#i hope he had dreams where he and shadow got to be besties. and by Him And Shadow i mean he dreams himself as sonic

[todayisafridaynight]

so magical that yakuza 1 and shadow the hedgehog came out the same year........ 2005 the best year for sega honestly.....

[blessedbucky]

we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 4.1)

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 15.5k (IT JUST KEEPS GETTING LONGER WHY)

summary: that second year of high school has a clear division within your mind—before summer and after. this is the before.

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, bisexual!reader, bisexual!suguru, awkward teenage sexual awakenings, denying that you're thirsting on your bffs and you're plunging in DENIAL river at the thought of CRUSHING on your bffs, masturbation, wet dreams (ish?), the existential crisis of realizing a bunch of old dudes poorly control the future of your teenage life, and good ole fashioned meltdowns

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @honeydew-cheesecake

author note: (ಠ_ಠ) no seriously dude stories really do have a mind of their own because HERE WE ARE. 15.5 THOUSAND WORDS. and that was BEFORE hidden inventory. i've still got so many brain worms for post-hidden inventory that i said "my god the tumblr post will be so fucking long let me just cut this in half and give the besties an update while i'm at it"

chapter links: ONE, TWO, THREE, AO3

[YEAR TWO.]

[PART I]

You know that they’re there. You’re not sure exactly where, but you can feel their eyes on you—sharp and predatory. You know that you may not be the best sorcerer around, but you think that this is a mission only you can do. You can’t let yourself waver here! There are people who depend on you now!

“We truly appreciate this, Senpai.”

They’re close, you can feel it. You’ll have to make your final stand here. Maybe you can trick them, so they don’t come at you with their all. Yes, you’ll talk and make it look like you’ve let your guard down.

You slow to a stop and turn around to face the two boys behind you with a smile. Haibara Yu and Nanami Kento—the only two to be enrolled this year. Both of them come from non-sorcerer families, so like you and Suguru last year, they’re here a week early to have a crash course on the jujutsu world. Hmm, now that you think about it, that could be why you’re so protective of them. You remember how overwhelmed you were by all that information thrown at you.

Nanami was dead serious with his thanks, as he is in general. Paired with Haibara, who is open and warm, you hope that his sharp edges will soften. Just as you hope that Nanami will teach Haibara to learn how to focus. He’s very laidback. You’re not sure that he realizes how dangerous sorcery can be.

“I hope this doesn’t offend you,” Haibara starts nervously, “but isn’t this…excessive?”

Oh, poor, sweet, naïve Haibara. There are still stars in his eyes. It blinds him to the truth that you have to do this because no one else can. Only you can stand up to those saccharine smiles and escort your precious juniors to class. Without you, either they’d be kidnapped or Nanami would break and be expelled because he hasn’t built up an immunity yet.

Out of the corner of your eye, shadows move.

However, you were prepared for this!

You’ve learned from experience, so you know that one will try to sneak up behind you and snatch you up. With a mighty cry, you brandish the bottle that you had hidden in the front pocket of your uniform. Giving your back to your juniors, you spray Suguru right in the face with water.

“Gah!”

You spin on your heel and push between Nanami and Haibara to reach Satoru who stands behind them with a sadistic grin. His hands were going for their collars, but he’s lost when you spray him in the face, too. It doesn’t matter that the water is stalled by Infinity. They’ve lost the game today.

“No!” You hold the spray bottle up threateningly. Satoru accepts his defeat by dropping down to sit on the ground and cross his arms over his chest. “Let them get to class! There’s not gonna be any weird hazing rituals on my watch!”

“When did you become a member of the Disciplinary Committee?” Suguru teases while he slides in beside you to lean an elbow on your shoulder. You brandish the bottle, but he takes a step back with his hands raised in defeat. “You win this round, Squid. I won’t bother you or your ducklings for the rest of the day.”

Did you hear Nanami breathe a sigh of relief? You’re not sure. But you definitely hear Haibara squawk loudly. You look over your shoulder, watching as Nanami takes the chance to escape and books it away from the scene, practically dragging his classmate along with him. You can’t say that you blame Nanami. You know other people tend to think that Satoru is a lot to deal with and now that he and Suguru are so close…at times, they’re downright unbearable.

With an irritated sigh, you ask them, “Can you stop with the duckling thing?”

“Why? Worried you’ll get another nickname, Mama Duck?” Satoru taunts.

You won’t tell him that he’s right.

“The real question,” Suguru interrupts as he gently tugs at the strap of your backpack, “is where are you going?”

“A date,” you answer bluntly.

“What?!” Satoru yelps.

Suguru quickly follows up with, “With who?!”

“Talk about Mama Duck,” you mutter.

“Papa!” Satoru whines. Because he’s still on the ground, he starts tugging at Suguru’s pants—more like a child than the mother he pretends to be. “Sketch is in her rebellious phase!”

“You’re not reading any of my Ouran manga anymore.” In preparation for the anime adaptation that’s about to premiere, you’ve been burning through the manga. And Satoru once declared that he wanted to read what you did because he wants to know what kind of things you like, so he’s been reading it along with you. “I’m meeting up with Shoko. We’re getting our nails done and grabbing food.”

“Boo.” Satoru leans back on his hands with a huff. “Suguru, let’s go on our own date to make them jealous!”

“You guys are extra childish today.” You put a hand on your hip. “If I stop at the konbini on my way back, will you cut it out with the temper tantrums?”

“Rude.” You wait. Suguru and you stare at each other. He’s the one to crack first. “Some unadon, please.”

“Parfait!” Satoru chirps.

“Actual food, Satoru,” you and Suguru intone at the exact same time.

“Ugh. Fine. A katsu sandwich and the parfait.”

“Good boy.” Satoru has an interesting reaction to your praise. His face turns bright red, probably out of chagrin. He jerks away from your hand that’s reaching out to ruffle his hair and yanks his legs up against his chest. You hold your hands up like Suguru had done not long ago. “Sorry,” you quickly apologize. “I should’ve asked before I tried to touch.”

“It’s not that!” Satoru snaps his head to the side, looking away, scowling at nothing. “You know that you and Suguru are allowed to touch me whenever! But don’t talk to me like I’m a dog! Jeez!”

You cock your head to the side. “Is that how it came off? I was being genuine. You usually put up more of a fuss when we try to get you to eat regular food.”

“Squid.” You turn to look up at Suguru. There’s this weird smile on his face as he watches Satoru. Forced, maybe? But then he turns his attention back to you. “What time are you meeting Shoko? Shouldn’t you get going? I don’t want you to freak out over being late because we held you up.”

Your eye twitches. “But you’ll hold up our juniors from going to class?”

The tension in his smile melts away for something coyer. “We want to welcome them. Get to know them better since they’re in the dorms with us now. Isn’t that the responsible thing to do as their upperclassmen?”

“I can’t believe you preached to them about how important our roles are, but you want to interrupt their studies.”

“It’s nothing official,” he tries to dismiss. “Sensei won’t throw them to the wolves on their first day. They could catch up once the term starts.” He raises a brow. “I can’t believe you preached to them about having fun when they can, but you want to keep them tucked away under your wing,” he throws back at you tauntingly.

You roll your eyes. “Go jerk each other off or something and leave the rest of us out of it.”

They’re both still sputtering when you walk away with a smug smirk.

Oh.

No wonder Satoru and Suguru had been so upset about the idea of you on a date. You’d completely forgotten that it’s cherry blossom season. There are definitely no open benches. Thankfully, you’re prepared! You brought a blanket in case the benches were still wet from the morning dew. You’re happy that you’re still early despite Satoru and Suguru’s distraction because you have time to hunt down a spot that’s as far away as it can be from other people on the open lawn.

You spot Shoko before she sees you. You stand up and wave a hand in the air to catch her attention. Around the stick in her mouth, she’s grinning as she approaches. Then, because you’re weirdly attracted to having assholes for friends, she asks loud enough for other people to hear, “Are we on an actual date, pretty girl?”

And, normally, you’d be embarrassed by that. Right now, though, when she’s close enough, you’re smacked in the face with the bitter smell of smoke. The end of what you thought was a candy stick is bright orange. “Shoko!” You flap a hand nervously in her direction, motioning toward that thing in her mouth. “You leave us for a month and you’re smoking now?!”

“Aw, man. I’d hoped getting you all flustered would’ve helped you ignore that.” She laughs easily. “Here.” She plops the plastic bag in hand on the blanket. “I wanted to drop this off before I go put out this cigarette. I don’t want us getting kicked out for me not being in the designated smoking area.” She waves a hand. “Be right back.”

You’re still in a tizzy when she gets back. “This is bribery,” you accuse when she’s close enough. When she’d proposed this, you suggested the both of you buying your own meals, but she insisted on paying. Now, you know why, and you also know why she got a bunch of your favorite foods and drinks. “I can’t believe you,” you continue to complain. “You’re going to be a doctor. You have surgeons as parents. What do they think about this?”

“They’re smokers, too.”

You huff in disbelief. “That seems…irresponsible.”

“They do have a kid that could heal any complications that come from it. That’s why I do it. I get the chemical rush and none of the damage. Seems like a win-win to me.” She plops down on the blanket next to you. “You’re not helping the Mama Duck allegations, y’know.”

Ugh. Having more than one friend sucks sometimes. If only they could move those online chatrooms to cell phones. You could scold them all at once about this weird obsession they have with giving you embarrassing nicknames. “It’s not bad to care about people!”

“You’re too sweet for jerks like us, pretty girl,” Shoko says with a laugh as she holds out okonomiyaki as an offering.

You eye the plastic container before you snatch it from her hands. “No octopus, right?”

“Vegetarian,” she replies. You smile brightly and flip the container open. Between the both of you chowing down, she asks, “Did you work on your technique over the break? Gotten anywhere else with it?”

“Ugh, yeah, and it’s gotten me in a weird place.” She raises a brow at your answer. You absentmindedly chew on the end of your straw. “I still can’t control them. It’s like I’m giving them a suggestion and the weaker they are, the more likely they are to listen to what I have to say.” You frown. “I was on an assignment with Suguru and another sorcerer last week, y’know. They used a shikigami.” You fidget nervously. “I pacified the shikigami and Suguru’s cursed spirit.”

Shoko nearly drops her drink from the shock. “Seriously?”

You nod. “We don’t know what to make of it. I could maybe understand Suguru since the cursed spirits are technically their own separate thing. It’s like an extreme master-servant deal. But with a shikigami…that’s just a physical form of a sorcerer’s cursed energy.”

“How easy was it?”

“Not at all. I passed out,” you admit sheepishly. “I thought I was pacifying the cursed spirit we were after, but…uh…I guess the other two were caught in the range. The shikigami was a lot easier, actually. It might have to do with the amount of cursed energy. When this was all happening, it felt like an uphill battle. Suguru has more cursed energy than me and it’s like I’m muting his connection, so I guess I’d need to overcome his. If he wasn’t so tired, I don’t think I would’ve won.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Maybe it all boils down to cursed energy.” You tilt your head in question. “Like…you’re suppressing cursed energy itself. Not only cursed spirits. What are cursed spirits if not a massive amount of negative cursed energy? If you look at it with that perspective, it only makes sense that you can pacify shikigami.”

“I want to say that it feels like you’re reaching, but…” Well. That’s the only logical outcome when you add up the pieces. It’s started now because you’re getting stronger, refining control over your own cursed energy. “I don’t like this,” you whisper when you start thinking too much. “Wouldn’t the next step be pacifying the sorcerer? I…I don’t want to control people.” You shake your head furiously. “No. I could never be that strong.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself there, pretty girl. If it boils down to a cursed energy match, you have a lot.” You try to wave the comment off. Sensei has mentioned something along those lines, too. “I’m serious. You can’t compare yourself to Gojo and Geto since they’re freaks of nature. You’ve got such an insane amount that you’re getting close to freak yourself. If you had a more threatening ability, you might be considered Special Grade.”

“Can we not talk about me anymore, please?”

“Alright, alright. Let me tell you about the fun I had over the break. They gave me access to the morgue.”

***

You’re…distracted…

It’s hard not to stare.

It was only a moment, but you still watch him intently. You’re reminded of those pictures that are drawn in such a way that you can see multiple interpretations and when someone points out their own perspective, you can never not see it anymore. This is like that. It doesn’t matter if you demand that he tuck his shirt in like some scandalized lady of the house from the Heian period because it’s burned in your brain now.

Such a small, simple thing. A flutter of his shirt when he leaped in the air to shoot the basketball, and you saw beneath the figurative curtain. And somewhere in the back of your brain, you knew that a simple belt wouldn’t be enough to hold up Suguru’s heavy, baggy pants, but it never clicked. Not until now. Not until you saw a flash of the high waist of his pants.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Why does it feel like your brain would be playing the old internet dial-up sound on a loop if someone could read your mind right now?

It was a waist! You didn’t even see skin! If you’re going to drool over something, it should be his arms. With his sleeves rolled up like that, you can see the few veins that run along his upper arms. With him holding a basketball like that, the size of his hands become more apparent. Suguru…really took that punch at last year’s Goodwill Event personally and he’s started to work out a lot more. You can tell. Not that he wasn’t fit before with all the farm work he did in the village, but…

Holy shit, what are you going to do in summer? You think you heard Satoru mention that they had more people to play basketball with now, so they could do teams, and…and don’t guys do the whole shirts versus skins thing? They wouldn’t with only two to a team, would they? What are you going to do? Suguru is more massive than ever now. More muscled than ever.

Is the heat still on? You’re so hot right now. And more than that…

“Yo! Sketch! Hey, look out—”

Something heavy thumps against the top of your head. You clutch at your head, watching the basketball bounce away, more flustered than hurt that you were…were…in a daze. Because you saw your best friend’s waist. When did Suguru get curves? Oh, no. Does this make you a pervert? You might be a pervert!

“Squid?”

The stupidly curvaceous man of the hour squats down in front of you. Hair has fallen out of his tight bun, bangs now framing both sides of his face. You duck your head, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with him. You watch his fingers twitch, but he puts his hands firmly on his big thighs.

“You lookin’ to get a new nickname, Sketch?” Satoru calls out as he approaches you and Suguru. “You’ll get one if you don’t stop being such a space cadet.”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “You’re so caring, Satoru. Really, you’re dripping with compassion.” He shakes his head before moving his attention back to you, expression softening. “Are you okay? Is it a bad day?”

“Is it a crime to daydream?” You scramble for something to explain your behavior. “I don’t know. I…I was trying to remember what that cursed spirit looked like.” You shake your sketchbook. His brows furrow in confusion when he looks at it because it’s almost done. You panic. “Uh…like…did it have fur or not? I can’t remember!”

“It was scales…” Suguru informs you slowly. “Are you okay? Really? Not feeling sick or anything? You don’t usually forget big things like that when it comes to cursed spirits.”

The gym door slams open, the sound echoing, and making you yelp.

Sensei shouts all your names as if you’re in trouble…which, to be fair, you probably are since you were supposed to be spending this time studying in the library. Technically, you could spin the sketch as work since you are supposed to record curses that you encounter, but you don’t even want to defend yourself. You’ve never been more thankful to be in trouble in your life. Sensei has learned that the best punishment is to separate you all from each other. You need some room to breathe.

“Since you have so much energy to burn,” Sensei starts heatedly, “you can come help with the first years.”

“Ugh,” Satoru and Suguru groan in unison.

You smartly slide off to the side to make way for Sensei. He rushes forward to knock them both over the head as a reprimand for the rude response. The hit makes them drop to their knees and they accept that they’re in for a lecture. Sensei doesn’t demand the same gesture from you because he knows that you’ll stay where you are. You do tune him out partway through, though. This is definitely a lecture more targeted toward Satoru and Suguru because you’re more than happy to help with whatever the first years need.

When Sensei calls out your name, you snap back to attention. “You’ll spar with Satoru today,” he declares. It’s hard to retain your politeness. Turns out that you’re not exactly escaping, after all. It could be worse. He could make you run the track again which you hate because you don’t have anyone to keep you company, so you get bored just running in circles.

Then, you process his words fully. “Satoru?”

“Suguru is going to work with Nanami and Haibara today,” Sensei explains. “Satoru still needs a lot of work on his hand-to-hand combat.” Suguru snickers quietly while Satoru sputters at the, frankly, correct assessment. “You’re next best after Suguru. He’ll benefit from sparring with you. It might also help him with having some restraint.”

“What the hell, old man?!” Satoru shouts. “Suguru, shut up!” Clearly, Satoru isn’t that preoccupied with getting an answer. He just stomps out of the gym with a red face while Suguru quickly follows after him to pile on the teasing.

Both you and Sensei sigh when they’re out of sight—for different reasons, of course. Sensei goes on to scrub a hand across his face. You don’t doubt that he’s questioning his life choices right now. Kusakabe, when he visits Sensei and you escort him to where your teacher is, has told you that Sensei complains about how Satoru and Suguru are some of the most promising yet most frustrating students that he’s ever had.

“Sorry, Sensei.” You feel the need to apologize on their behalf. Sensei shoots you an irritable look now. One of your biggest lectures is to stop doting on Satoru and Suguru. “Sorry,” you mumble again with a wince. He stares at you a few seconds more before he heads out of the gym. You quickly follow after and step in line beside him. “Um…you said that we needed to get used to helping Nanami and Haibara more. Something about escorting them on missions?” That had caught your attention during the lecture. “When does that start?”

“I’m not sure,” Sensei answers honestly. “It depends on how today goes. Haibara’s family owns a dojo. Nanami has taken kendo classes since he was a child. I want to see how well they incorporate cursed energy into their techniques.”

Your brows furrow. “It’s been a month…” He hums in agreement. “We were going on our first assignments within a month.”

“Your class is a special case. You’re all extremely talented. Satoru and Suguru are in the process of being assigned Special Grade status. I’ve also been speaking with Kusakabe about putting your name forward for Grade 1 in the future.” Your eyes widen and your head snaps up to stare at him in shock. “Though, I’m not sure that you need the recommendation. Those at headquarters are very interested in your abilities. They’ll be speaking with you soon.”

“I…I don’t understand.” Your mind is spinning right now. “Why? What more can I tell them?”

Sensei stops and turns to stare at you like you’ve grown another head. “You discovered that the Red Room Curse exists as an extension of a cursed spirit’s technique. You used the break to research, something you didn’t have to do. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have known that it had created a cursed tool in the Taisho period. It was found yesterday, if you were curious. It’s been sealed away.”

You frown. “Doesn’t that just mean they should do more research themselves?”

“They should,” he agrees. But they won’t and now you’re here, he doesn’t say. You can do it for them. “Like any high schooler, you should start thinking about what you want to do after graduation. You and Shoko have more options open to you than the rest of your peers. As your name spreads at headquarters, it trickles down to the clans, so they may offer you positions, too.”

And you can’t help but blurt, “Couldn’t you have sprung this on me after sparring?”

Sensei chuckles softly. “It wasn’t meant to cause you stress. What you do or don’t do with your technique is up to you. This was to help you see your worth, more than anything.”

You blink at his honesty. “Y’know…you’re actually a good guy, Sensei.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he grouses.

“Ah, but it was?”

Sensei sighs. “I know.”

“This is stupid,” Satoru complains as the two of you stand off to the side and watch Nanami and Haibara throw themselves at Suguru. They try to clumsily infuse their moves with cursed energy which Suguru is quick to point out and guide them on how to better let their cursed energy flow. “Why not let the guy with a shield handle this?”

“The inconsistent shield?”

Ah, maybe that was a little too mean. Satoru is in a weird place. The last few months, he’s felt like he’s started to slide backward in terms of progress. He still can’t fire off his technique, Red, consistently. Whenever he does try, it leaves him exhausted. Not to mention that, suddenly, his Infinity has started to lower at the most random of times. Satoru has no reason why. Thankfully, it’s not a lot. Sensei and Shoko were honestly shocked because it’s never dropped around them. It’s only you and Suguru that have seen Infinity act up and Satoru wants to keep it that way.

Satoru doesn’t dwell on your words. “Not you too, Sketch! What’s with everyone bashing me today, huh?”

“Anyway.” You roll your eyes. “Getting hit is the point here. Suguru can feel their output better that way and correct them. And it’s not enough for them to hurt him.”

“I’m good at controlling and channeling my cursed energy, too!”

“Yeah, but you can’t explain it well.” Before he can loudly whine again, you interrupt. “For you, it’s so easy that you don’t think about it. It would be like explaining how to breathe.” You pause. “Also, you’re way too rude. You need to be delicate with these things and that’s impossible for you.”

“Is not!”

You turn to stare at him while you dryly ask, “Are you done stalling now?”

His cheeks are flushed with chagrin. “I’m not stalling!”

“Let’s get started, then. I want today to be over. I’m exhausted.” You are tired, true, but you mainly want to run and hide away in your room. Those…thoughts…about Suguru…they still linger in the back of your mind. You’re pointedly not trying to look at him specifically, instead focusing on Nanami or Haibara.

“Fine.”

Satoru makes a show of stomping away. You follow after him with a shake of the head and quiet chuckle. Just a little pushback from people for once and he can’t take it? Suguru will definitely give him more shit later. You wonder if Suguru will lecture him in the showers—

Stop! Stop! Stop!

Where the fuck did that come from? You’re so struck by your own brain’s train of thought that you almost trip over your feet. As you meet Satoru on the other side of the field, you purposely put your back to the first years. You pray that you won’t bump into them. You don’t know that you can stand to face Suguru right now. You’re done. This day has been weird and hellish. You’ll just have to apologize to Satoru later for your impending brutality. You can’t take it easy on him today if you want to be dismissed by Sensei as soon as possible.

“Start already!” Sensei shouts from the other side of the field.

You’re not sure whether Utahime would consider you a friend yet, but since Shoko has the hugest crush on her but is too scared to ask her on an actual date, you’ve spent a lot of time with the two of them. A favorite activity of hers is dancing. It makes sense because it’s an integral part of her technique. More often than not, when you and Shoko visit Utahime in Kyoto, you three end up dancing the night away in her apartment.

And you, practical person that you are, have started to infuse what you’ve learned into your attack style. It’s useful against people like Suguru and Satoru who are so much taller and physically stronger than you. Because, like all things, there are disadvantages to their size. You’re more nimble, more flexible. They naturally swing high which has you mostly going low—sometimes, even dropping to do the splits. When they try to kick, you can dance away or, if you react fast enough, you can catch their leg to sweep them off their feet.

It's been some time since you’ve sparred with Satoru, but that doesn’t mean you’re still not watching. You know how he fights, but today…it’s different. He’s as dodgy as you are. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that he’s pulling his punches. Never let it be said that he’s not a fast learner, so maybe he’s adjusting to match your fight style. He’s like a snake, trying to lash out to get his fangs in you, trying to wrap around you. You narrowly miss getting locked down when he snatches your sweatshirt by pulling yourself out of it.

Just when you think you have his moves down, it only gets weirder. His cheeks are pink. You didn’t think you were going hard enough at him to make him sweat, but maybe you’re wrong. Now, he’s purely on the defensive…or so you think. You should’ve known better. You make the mistake of trying to throw yourself fully on the offense. So, when you aim a high kick at him, he snatches your ankle and roughly yanks you.

It happens fast. You try to catch yourself with your hands, twisting your torso to try to get them on the ground. It doesn’t work in that respect, but it does hook your ankle around Satoru’s neck enough to tip him forward. The back of your head smacks against the ground painfully. The breath is knocked out of you when Satoru’s heavier body lands right on top of you.

“Ow, ow, ow, Sketch. You kicked my head!”

Words are stuck in your throat.

Because, suddenly, you have become hyperaware of your own body. And it’s not exactly like that’s…abnormal…but this…isn’t overstimulation. Or…maybe it is? A shiver runs down your spine. The points of contact where Satoru’s bare skin touches yours are like live wires—heated and sparking.

With the first few buttons of his shirt popped open, your cheek is smashed against his bare skin. Since you’re in a short-sleeve shirt, one of his stupidly huge hands are wrapped around your arm. And…and when he tries to lift away from you, his…his knee slips up and…accidentally nudges up between your thighs…

You bite down on your bottom lip and squeeze your eyes shut, but it’s not enough to hold back the tiny whimper in response to the rush of heat that zips up your spine.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Above you, Satoru goes rigid. You’re mortified. He heard. “Ow!” It’s all you can think to do. You hope that he falls for your desperate attempt to make that sound like a pained whimper. You need out of here. Fuck the consequences. You squeak out, “I yield!”

“Cool!” Satoru sounds as equally panicked as you do. “My prize is your sweatshirt!”

“Whatever! Can you m—”

There’s a burst of cursed energy. Then, you two become a dizzyingly mess of limbs. You yelp and instinctively grip at Satoru, but because he lifted his arm, his shirt rode up, so you’re grabbing at his bare waist and digging your nails in. He squawks at the rough treatment, trying to lean away, and his hand ends up groping one of your tits when he tries to get his bearings.

As soon as your sweatshirt that he pulled toward him with Blue is finally in his hand, Satoru moves away from you. He chokes when he’s yanked back viciously by the back of his collar. Suguru uses so much force that it briefly lifts Satoru’s knees off the ground. Satoru, weirdly, is protective of his prize because he only reaches back to swat at Suguru with one hand while the other keeps your sweatshirt pressed against his body.

“Satoru!” Suguru shouts. “What the hell? We don’t use cursed techniques in sparring—”

“I’m okay!” You scramble to lift yourself up from the ground. “I am okay!” You don’t know who you’re trying to convince, but Suguru isn’t buying it. You can’t blame him. There’s a tremble in your voice, sweat lining your skin, and your heart is pounding away in your chest. “I hope that everyone has a good sparring session! I’m done!”

Sensei and Suguru both call out your name, but you’re already power walking away from the field.

Despite what some people may think, you’re not stupid or naïve.

But…with how much time it took you to figure out what it was that you were feeling today since that time in the gym…you might be in denial.

In the communal showers, under the lukewarm spray of water, you have your hands pressed to your scalding hot cheeks. You continue to take deep breaths. None of this helps. There’s a very real urge to clench your thighs together. Because there’s a very real ache between them. Because your mind is an endless loop—sweat-slick skin and the hair stuck to it, flashes of skin from shirts ridden up, the outline of defined muscles hidden under white shirts, massive hands…

You slap your hands over your face which…doesn’t help. Since you’re alone, you crouch down without the fear of judgement. If you weren’t alone, you think you still wouldn’t care. You’re in the middle of a crisis. Is this a moral crisis? No. Wait. Oh, no. Is this what they call a sexual awakening?

No. That’s stupid. You’ve obviously felt desire before. Kind of. It was about as lukewarm an experience as the water that pounds against your back right now. Your thoughts had been scattered, nowhere in particular, so maybe that’s why it’d been dry—both literally and metaphorically.

This…this is so different from back then. This is warm. It’s heat. You’re throbbing. You didn’t think that you could ever feel this way. You’ve never wanted to touch yourself so badly. And that in itself isn’t a bad thing. You’ve never understood the point in shame over a natural bodily reaction and doing something to satisfy it. It never flustered you as much as your fellow classmates to hear the boys make sexual innuendos.

No, this shame comes from who you want to think about as you touch yourself. Even now, past your distress, you want to drop to your knees, slip your hand down between your thighs, and know what it’s supposed to truly feel like. But you know…you know that if you do that, their faces will be at the forefront of your mind.

You’re not supposed to think about Satoru and Suguru like this!

They are your best friends!

How the hell are you supposed to ignore this? You finally understand what some people mean when they say they feel like a cat in heat. It’s fine. You’ll just…get your mind off it. Ugh. So, going back to your room is a bad idea. If you’re left alone with your thoughts, you’ll never stop thinking about it. What can you do, though? Why is your go-to always hanging out with friends? You don’t want to be around people anymore. You’re so mentally exhausted now.

Right, okay, you’ll drop to your other default.

There was a bird nest in the big tree outside the classroom window. If you’re lucky, the mama bird will stay still long enough for you to draw her.

As always, drawing manages to knock you out of your head.

It calms you down to the point that between one blink and the next, you’re asleep. Not that you realize that until the ground falls out from underneath you and you jerk awake. There’s a part of you that knows whose arms you’re in, though, so your brain is still calm enough to try and drag you back to sleep.

With a sigh, you slip your arms around his neck and shove your face in the crook of his neck. “Sketchbook,” you mumble as almost an afterthought.

“I’ll come back for it later,” Suguru whispers. “You have to stop sketching outdoors when you’re so tired, Squid. You’ll catch cold.”

“Okay,” you agree sleepily.

Suguru chuckles quietly. “Forget it. I’ll lecture you tomorrow.”

***

“This one?”

You take a step to the side, almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Shoko. You hunch over to examine where she points at on the display case. It’s a cute tongue ring with a charm in the shape of a heart. “Pretty, but too flat.” She raises a brow in question. “I like it when they have the little ball on the end. See?” You open your mouth to physically show her the piercing and how you roll it against your teeth. “It’s really satisfying to play with.”

On the other side of the display case, Utahime clicks her tongue. “That could easily turn into a dangerous distraction.”

You tilt your body to stare at her through the crack of display cases. Deadpan, you ask, “You have a problem with my tongue piercing but not with Shoko’s smoking?”

“I’m trying to save you from her bad influence,” Utahime shoots back.

“Hey,” Shoko complains.

Then, hypocritically, Utahime points at her side of the case. “What about one of these?” Clearly, if she’s making suggestions then she doesn’t care all that much about your piercing…ah. Wait. She was joking. Maybe a little. You’re still trying to get a read on how Utahime communicates.

You step over to her side of the case. You can’t catch yourself before you let out a shudder and scrunch your nose in disgust. It’s a bead, sure, but it’s those rubbery ones with equally rubbery spikes. Just the thought of that touching the inside of your mouth is nauseating. “Um…thank you for the suggestion, but…no.” You try to keep it polite as to not offend her.

Utahime snorts. “Okay. Stick to metal.” She blinks. “Oh. What about this one?”

The price tag makes you internally cringe, but then you actually look at it, and you immediately know you want it. You have the money saved up for it, anyway. It’s probably plastic, but it’s shaped and shiny enough to look like it’s made of diamond. At that price, it might be made of that off-brand diamond. The charm on the end is in the shape of a dragon’s head.

Excitement surges through you. You practically bounce over to a store worker to have them unlock the case and take the tongue ring to the register. As soon as it’s paid for, you skip out of the store and make a break for the nearest restroom. Just as you have it torn open and are washing it with hand soap, Shoko and Utahime burst into the restroom behind you.

“You’re really excited about this,” Utahime remarks.

“Ahh.” Shoko finally gets a good look at the tongue ring when you hold it up in the light. “No wonder you’re so excited. It’s like a little rainbow dragon.”

The tongue ring almost goes down the drain when you nearly drop it. Looking over your shoulder, you glare at her. “That’s not it at all!” The defensiveness isn’t helping your case, you realize, so you turn back to the mirror. “Jeez, Shoko, not everything I do is about Suguru or Satoru! Can I not get something because it looks cool?”

In the reflection, you watch Shoko put her hands up in surrender. “Whoa, okay, I didn’t mean to offend you, your highness.”

“Inside voice, please,” Utahime reminds you. Then, to Shoko, she says, “She’s right, y’know. Not everything has to revolve around those two. A woman can dress up solely for herself. We know Duck isn’t the type to make herself uncomfortable for someone else.”

Slowly, you move to face Utahime, expression blank. “What did you just call me?”

Shoko, smartly, uses Utahime’s embarrassed stream of apologies as a chance to escape.

You need new fucking friends.

As you and Shoko meander your way up the main staircase that leads back to campus, she casually asks, “So, what’s going on with you and Gojo?”

Ha. As if you’d admit the truth. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, pretty girl. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed how quiet Gojo’s been.” For a moment, you stupidly think that she’ll keep the focus on Satoru, but you’re not so lucky. “As for you…it’s hard to explain because quiet is your default, but you’ve been really…dodgy. Acting like a nervous wild animal that runs whenever someone gets close.” Oh, you are praying that she doesn’t connect the dots. No dice. “That someone is Gojo and Geto.”

“You know how they are, Shoko. They’re always so touchy. I haven’t been in the mood to deal with that,” you lie. Well. It’s part lie. What you can and can’t handle always goes day by day.

“No, see, I know that’s a lie. Like Utahime said, you never hesitate to tell us when you’re uncomfortable. If you’re having a bad day, you let us know about it.” Shit. “Geto and I are just trying to figure it out. This started after you and Gojo sparred. I thought maybe you’re scared of Gojo and Gojo is scared that you’re scared of him, but you two are acting weird around Geto, too. So, it can’t be that—”

You try to interrupt in as less a panicky way as possible. “It really isn’t that deep—”

“I thought it had to do with the giant crush that Gojo has on you, but like I said, he’s acting like a flustered virgin around you and Geto—”

“Crush?” Shoko holds out an arm to catch you when your foot catches a step the wrong way and you stumble forward. You jerk to face her, eyes wide with shock. “What are you talking about?! Are those cigarettes laced with something, Shoko? Do you need glasses or something?”

Shoko laughs. “Sure, the person that struggles with social cues is going to lecture me.”

“I’m not dumb.”

“When did I say you were?”

“What I mean is that I could tell if he has a crush on me. He’d act different around me, right? Satoru doesn’t know how to be subtle. Since he acts no different around me than he does anyone else, the only logical conclusion is he doesn’t feel any different for me, either.”

“I can’t believe you’re coming at this like a math problem. No. Actually, I can believe that.” She rolls her eyes. “First of all, emotions aren’t logical. Second, and more importantly, he absolutely acts different around you and Geto.”

You huff. “You just proved your point wrong. If he has a crush on me, he wouldn’t treat Suguru the same, would he?”

“Ah. Wait. You’re right. Unless…ooh.” She knocks one fist against her open palm as if she’s had an epiphany. You’re terrified to hear what she’s come up with. “Unless he’s got a crush on both of you. That’s what it is. It makes so much sense. Oh, man. I’ve got to talk to Nanami and Haibara now.”

Your head is spinning. “No, you’re not talking to them about this! I don’t even think there’s a word to describe how far you’re reaching right now, Shoko!” You shake your hands, desperately trying to get out your nervous energy. “Look, I’d understand if he has a crush on Suguru. They’d be a hot couple, okay? But don’t…don’t bring me into this! That’s…anyway, isn’t that cheating?” Your voice quiets. “Isn’t that…wrong?”

“It’s not like any of you are in a relationship. So, no, I don’t think it’s cheating. I still wouldn’t. Cheating is if the other person doesn’t know you’re involved with someone else.” She shrugs. “I might be a biased opinion. There are a lot of people who say that me liking girls is wrong. So, if everyone cares about everyone else involved, then what’s wrong with more than two people in a relationship?”

Oh.

Well, that’s…

You don’t know what to do with all this.

“Okay, that’s…that’s true. I can understand that. It’s like another one of those things that people worry about when there’s no reason.” She nods in agreement. “You’re still wrong about the crush thing, though. Why would someone have a crush on me? No one ever has. Why would they start now?”

“No one has had a crush on you that you know of,” Shoko corrects cryptically. “Are we going to ignore you called them hot?”

“Are you blind?”

“No. I’m gay.”

“Shoko, I like girls, too. It doesn’t make you less of a lesbian if you admit they’re aesthetically pleasing.”

“Sure, but their personalities are so awful that it just ruins everything else.”

“Are you sure that this isn’t just you being uncomfortable that it’s like looking in a mirror when you see them? You all have the exact same sense of humor. You’re definitely as much of an asshole as them.” She bursts out in a fit of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, keep laughing. You know it’s true.”

Shoko wipes at her tears of laughter. As she starts to walk forward again, she remarks, “You talk big, pretty girl, but you can be an asshole yourself.”

***

If there was one thing that Shoko was right about, it’s that you’ve been obviously skirting around Satoru and Suguru. For three nights straight, both your mind and body toss and turn as you try to figure out where this sudden awareness of their bodies is coming from.

Technically, you’ve been through this before with Suguru, but…was it to this degree?

It’d been one of those rare days that you were allowed to work out in the fields with your parents. When you’d hunted Suguru down to not be so bored as you pulled crops, he’d been hunched over with no shirt on. It wasn’t the first time that you’d seen him without a shirt, per se. You’d both gone swimming before…

You’re not sure what it was. Maybe it was like how your grandparents, who lived in a different village, would remark on how much you’d grown between monthly visits. You would look in the mirror every day, so the changes in yourself were infinitesimal compared to someone that only saw you once a month. It could’ve been that, on that day, your brain had finally caught up on all the ways that Suguru had grown.

That skinny boy with his bony elbows and knobby knees and short, wild hair had grown. He’d finally hit a growth spurt the year before and was taller than everyone else in the village now. He towered over you, skin golden and dripping with sweat. He’d started to slowly grow his hair out and it was long enough to be pulled back in a stubby ponytail. He hadn’t been as toned as he is now, but it was still enough for your eyes to follow along the subtle swell of his biceps.

Jeez, that had been the last year of middle school, you think. Are you having another one of those moments? Did Satoru get caught in the crossfire?

The real question is…why aren’t you as aware of everyone else at school as you are of them? Like you told Shoko, anyone with a pair of eyes can see that they’re aesthetically pleasing. You’ve known that Suguru is a heartthrob since middle school. But…so is everyone else at school.

Shoko is a bombshell. That beauty mark? That poster that had made you blurt out your attraction and caused your mother to smack you, you’re pretty sure the model had a beauty mark, too. Shoko has the whole femme fatale thing going on now that she’s smoking. It’s not like you can blame it on height thing, either. Nanami is as tall as Suguru, the both of them just barely under Satoru. Even with the…stoic loner vibe and haircut…he’s also very handsome. Ruggedly so. Haibara is boyishly handsome, too, and very fit since his family runs a dojo.

So, why?

Why is your body reacting like this to only them?

It’s fine, you tell yourself. You can acknowledge that they’re pretty. There’s nothing wrong with that. You are, as many adults have complained about before, a hormonal teenager. It’s a little embarrassing, your body fixating on them, but you need some good old fashioned exposure therapy. You miss the normalcy that comes with them. You’re bored without them around. Your brain will whip your hormonal body into shape.

The morning after you’ve made your decision, you, admittedly, might…go from zero to a hundred. Despite your exhaustion from the lack of sleep, you think this will be a good day for your senses. Knowing that Satoru and Shoko are the type to show up at the last minute, you rush to meet Suguru on his way to class.

When you see him, back turned, head ducked as he looks at his phone, bag over his shoulder, your feet speed up. And then you throw yourself at his back, locking your arms around his waist, squeezing him tight. Suguru is so surprised that his phone clatters to the ground, yanking out his earbuds.

Suguru lifts his arm up, looking under it, and you poke your head out further to show him it’s you. “Sorry,” you apologize meekly in regard to the fright. You crouch down to pick his phone and earbuds up.

“It’s fine,” he breathes out. “Someone is in a good mood this morning.”

“Sorry,” you repeat. “I feel bad now. You ask me if I want to be touched. I really should’ve done the same.”

“Should I renew my blanket permission? You don’t have to ask me.”

“Permission renewed.”

Suguru chuckles lowly as he tries to turn around in your arms. You take a step back, letting him have room, but you don’t make it very far. He snatches your wrist and yanks you back toward him, making you squeak in surprise. He wraps you up tight in his arms. Your body is tense, you know, only made worse by the rapid beat of your heart and heat prickling across your skin, but you’re trying not to act weird.

“Sorry for being…” You don’t know how to describe it without being incriminating. “My head has been in weird places.”

“Why haven’t you talked to me about it?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you mumble before pressing your face against his chest.

“Since when did you start to feel shame?” Suguru teases. You dig your fingers into his side meanly, knowing it’s a spot that gets him squirming. Sure enough, he tries to wiggle away from you. “Cut it out,” he demands with a laugh. You do as he asks. “Let me be serious, Squid. I want you to talk to me, okay? Have I ever made you feel like you couldn’t be yourself or say what you want around me?”

“…no,” you admit after a pause.

“Why start now, then?” His grip around you goes unbearably tight. He buries his face in your hair and confesses, “I was worried that I scared you with how rough I got with Satoru.”

“Suguru!” You fist your hands in the front of his blazer and shove him away enough to make him look at your face. “That might be the most offensive thing you’ve ever said to me!” His brows furrow in confusion. You nearly shake him. “I will never ever be scared of you, okay? I think it’s physically impossible for my body to think of you as a threat.”

Suguru raises his arms in defeat. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry, Squid. I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.”

“You’re the most important person to me. Why wouldn’t I take that personally?” You step back and cross your arms over your chest. “How would you feel if I asked if you were scared of me?”

“It might actually be physically impossible for you to look scary.”

“Never mind. I’m not talking to you anymore,” you declare with a huff before you start stomping away.

Suguru chases after you with a laugh.

The next day, in the late afternoon, you’re on your way to the bus stop, planning to head into the city for something to eat. You like this bus. Since the school’s campus is so far out, the bus is smaller, and there’s only one seat per aisle. No one will sit next to you. You don’t have to make small talk, either. You finally dropped money for a MP3 player, so when you have earbuds, you’re simply written off as a rude teenager and usually aren’t bothered.

At the torii gate, though, your dinner plans change because Satoru is waiting for you with your sweatshirt over one arm and a bag of takeout dangling from his other hand.

The two of you sneak inside an empty classroom, glowing orange with the afternoon sun. He shoves a desk in front of the one you sit at, giving you both room to eat the ramen he bought. Wordlessly, he passes you the sweatshirt. At first, you were confused over how he even got it, but you realize it’s the one from when you two sparred. It’s still warm, you think, and smells like the really expensive laundry detergent.

Unthinkingly, you shove your face against the fabric, taking a lungful and soaking in the soft warmth. You rub your face against it. Satoru snorts before he speaks directly to you for the first time in…a few days, probably. “It’s like looking at a kitten.”

“That’s rich when you’re cuddling with those soft Digimon plushies,” you grumble. You carefully fold it up and shove it down in your bag. “You didn’t have to wash it, y’know. What? Did you spill something on it or stain it or something?”

Satoru shouts, “No!” His face is bright red, though. The reddest that you’ve ever seen it. It’s answer enough.

“Don’t be so defensive. It’s okay if you did.” Your leg is bouncing from nervousness. This is so bad. You shouldn’t be nervous around best friends. “Are we done being weird around each other?”

He is pointedly not looking at you as he divvies out the plastic containers. “I’m…um…I guess I should apologize first. I didn’t scare you or anything, did I?”

You blink, honestly confused and trying to figure out why you’d be scared. “It was just Blue?”

“Yeah, but still…”

“I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.” You break your chopsticks apart but pause. “I’m more disappointed than anything. Using your technique because you’re too lazy to walk and get my sweatshirt? What if the school was suddenly attacked and you didn’t have any cursed energy left because you’ve been flinging it around everywhere?”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Do you even know how much cursed energy I have? Using it here and there isn’t going to kill me. And what kind of hypothetical is that, anyway? This is the safest place in the jujutsu world.”

“The Special Assault Team could storm campus with machine guns or something.”

“Okay, then I’d have Suguru use Hong to deflect the bullets while something else in his arsenal eats them.”

You shake your head. “And he’d do it, too. For all the lectures he gives you about being spoiled, he’s the worst.”

“Heh! So do you,” he sings.

The worst part is that he’s right. Still, you feel the need to defend your honor. “Who can say no to the jujutsu world’s prettiest princess? Lord Gojo is such a demanding little thing. No one wants to deal with one of his tantrums.”

“I know you’re trying to be an asshole, but I am the prettiest princess in all the land.”

The two of you continue to make innocent jabs at each other while you eat. In the middle of dinner, Suguru texts, asking where you are and what you’re doing. You tell him, knowing that he’ll be here sooner rather than later. Sure enough, not even ten minutes later, he’s at the doorway in baggy sweats and a big white shirt. His long hair is down, still dripping. Did he seriously come here from the showers?

You swallow, a lump in your throat. It’s fine. This is fine. His nipples are hard and poking against his shirt, but that’s a natural bodily response. Just like how you squeeze your thighs together.

Fuck. You need to run your mouth before this gets weird. “You need to blow-dry your hair. You’ll get sick, walking around with wet hair.”

Suguru’s eyes narrow. “Are you lecturing me? Miss Barefoot-in-Snow?”

“I like to see my footprint in the snow and the crunch is nice.”

“Wear socks, at least.”

In unison, you and Satoru give a scandalized, “And have wet socks?!” You’re too busy shuddering at the thought, so Satoru continues on your behalf. “It’s like you want her to die!”

“Remind me to put my blazer over any puddles that you might have to step in, Lord Satoru,” Suguru says dryly.

“More proof to the princess allegations,” you mutter.

Satoru harrumphs. “I never denied being a princess.”

Suguru fully steps inside the classroom, approaching you both, grabbing a chair along the way. “I don’t even want to know.”

***

A month of normalcy passes, and you naively think that all is right in the world once again.

It’s been an exhausting day.

As it happens when the weather starts to warm up, cursed spirit activity is on the rise again.

For Nanami and Haibara’s first mission, you are the one tasked with their supervision. You weren’t anyone’s first pick, but there was no other choice. The more experienced sorcerer assigned was called away last minute to handle a higher grade. There’s a situation somewhere in Hokkaido, potentially Special Grade. A lot of sorcerers have been seriously hurt, so Shoko went with Satoru and Suguru.

You were given one hell of a lecture when you argued with Sensei about him going with the first years instead. A chance to study a Special Grade? You didn’t want to pass that up! Then, maybe you hadmade a bitchy remark about how a potential promotion to principal is getting to his head.

Anyway, the assignment with the first years went fine.

You were lectured yet again, this time by Haibara of all people. There’s a possibility that you…sort of pacified everything in the area. In your defense, the briefing said there would only be a pack of low-level spirits. A separate, higher graded spirit must’ve been close by, heard the violence, and slipped past the veil to get in on the action. When Nanami was smacked away with enough force that he cracked the wall he landed against, you panicked.

Ugh. You’re definitely not beating those Mama Duck accusations anymore.

You force yourself through dinner with them because you wanted to be polite and felt like you owed them since you cut the mission short. It’s dusk, almost night, but the lights of the city and restaurant are still too bright. They decide on a place that’s packed and so loud. By the time you three step outside, you have a pounding headache and nearly fall asleep against Nanami’s shoulder because you’re drained.

After you’re showered and dressed for bed, you flop back on your mattress with a weary sigh. On instinct, you reach for your cell phone, checking for any new messages like you have been the last three days. It’s late. You don’t expect much from them. Satoru used Blue at maximum output three times, Shoko reported. Suguru swallowed the curse when it was weak enough. Satoru will be wiped out and Suguru will be in bed immediately to digest the curse.

Everyone has been sending you pictures. The most recent and most likely last batch of the night are from Shoko. One that shows three bottles of nail polish, one that shows Suguru and Satoru hunched over as they paint their nails, a zoom-in of Satoru with his tongue poking out in concentration, and the last a shot of everyone’s finished nails. Satoru chose an electric blue, Suguru went with black, and Shoko has a baby pink color.

You spend way too long staring at that picture. There’s something in the pit of your stomach, seeing Shoko’s hand so close to theirs. It’s small compared to theirs. You wish that it could be your hand there. You want to run the tip of your finger along the line of their prominent veins. You’d hold both your hands up so they could press one of theirs against it, just to see how much they dwarf your own. What would the fit be like if you laced your fingers through theirs?

Your phone chimes with a text from Suguru. Face hot, you quickly back out of the conversation with Shoko, feeling guilty for a reason you can’t pinpoint. As soon as Shoko told you that Suguru swallowed the curse, you immediately texted Suguru, wanting to check in and remind him to remember to grab some instant rice for the morning. It’ll be easy on his stomach. You made him send a picture as proof. After he did, he wanted to know if you’d eaten yourself. You sent a picture of your meal. Suguru hadn’t responded to that text until now.

I’m proud of you for going out. I always worry about you being lonely, his text says. You’re about to roll your eyes at his mother hen tendencies, but then his next message rolls in. Be a good girl for me until I get back. Night, Squid.

The phone slips out of your hand, the edge of it landing painfully on the bridge of your nose. You jerk up from the mattress, clutching at your nose. Why is your face on fire? He…he was teasing, right? Be a good girl for me. They…they were just some words. You shake your hands, trying to dispel the sudden surge of panicked energy. Be a good girl for me. Great. That’s stuck in your head now. Shit.

Goodnight, Suguru, you reply back with slightly sweaty fingers. Sweet dreams.

Eh. They’re never that sweet without you around.

Is…is this…no. No. This isn’t flirting. It’s just…being a friend. That’s something friends would say, right? Yeah. This is just another roundabout way of saying that he misses you. Yeah, yeah. I miss you, too, you send back. Maybe some of Satoru’s sweetness can rub off on your dreams.

Fingers crossed. See? Friendly banter. If he was flirting, he wouldn’t pull Satoru into the conversation, right? I’ll text you in the morning when we’re leaving.

Rolling over on your side, you curl up into as much of a ball as you can and shove your face against your pillow. You have to stop yourself when you realize you’re rubbing your feet together again because you can’t fall asleep like that. Just go to sleep, you tell yourself.

Closing your eyes, you breathe in and out.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Over and over and…

…the mattress dips down. One side and then the other. You’re on your belly, arm shoved under the pillow that your face is still shoved into. You tilt your head to the side, eyes still closed, too exhausted to open them. You know these bodies that press up against each side of your own.

Someone’s hand presses against the small of your back and it’s almost like lightning shoots up your spine. In nothing but your sports bra, it’s bare skin against bare skin. But that’s nothing compared to the rush that comes when he leans down to press a kiss to where his hand previously was, so close to your ass, to your…

“Be a good girl,” Satoru quietly sings as the tips of his fingers land on the back of your calf. Your fingers are clenching the sheets. You gasp as his fingers teasingly begin to meander up your legs. Dancing around your inner thighs. “Mm, you’re the prettiest princess in all the land.” Oh. Oh. He’s so close. He’s going to feel how wet you are. “Heh, hell yeah, I am. Are you as pretty down here as you are everywhere else?”

“Satoru,” you gasp before you shove your face back against the pillow.

Another hand splays around the back of your neck, slipping up and around, cupping the side of your face. When he guides you to turn your face back toward him. A thumb runs along your bottom lip, dipping inside your mouth. Just a tease, though. You’re the one that sucks it back into your mouth.

“Such a good girl,” Suguru whispers against your ear. “Sweet girl.” He pulls his hand away, fingers teasingly running along the band of your sports bra.

“Suguru.”

“Let us handle it.”

And your eyes open before they’re closing again. You’re rolling your face against the pillow. As you’re clinging to the last vestiges of your dream, you don’t quite yet comprehend that it’s your hand shoved down your shorts. The line between dream and reality is a blur.

Sheets tangled around your legs are what you imagine what it would feel like to have theirs around yours instead. Your warm breath that fans out across your face as you’re panting against your pillow could be mistaken as theirs while they’re whispering into your ears. The heat inside you is almost unbearable, pitching up into a fervor, only spurred on by the desperate rolling of your hips. It’s like liquid fire rushing through your veins, burning and burning as you hump your hand.

Finally, blissfully, you are overwhelmed by pleasure.

It all crests. Your entire body locks up and trembles. In an attempt to chase after the addictive yet fading sparks, you try to jerk your legs up to get up on your knees, but it’s too soon after your limbs were locked up. Your leg painfully cramps and throbs and you’re fully thrown out of the dream’s clutches.

Clutching at your throbbing leg, you roll over on your back and stare up at the ceiling while you suck in shaky breaths.

What did you do?

What did you just do?

All you can really think to do is shout, “Fuck!”

You’re not there when they return the next day. Just before six in the morning, Sensei called you and said that you needed to report to Kyoto as soon as possible. If you’re honest with yourself, you’re thankful that you don’t have to see them today which only adds to the guilt that’s set in the pit of your stomach like a stone. Why couldn’t this be like a normal dream that fades away before you’re out of bed?

A better question—why did you have a dream like this to begin with?

There’s a Kyoto manager waiting to pick you up from the train station. Before you slip in the car, they hold out a hand. “I’ll need your phone.”

“Excuse me?”

Their eyes seem cold, but you try to convince yourself that’s not the case. You don’t do well with catching on to how other people feel and often mistake cold with cordial. “You’ll be meeting with a few of the higher-ups.” Your eyes widen. And you have nothing to be in trouble for, but your heart rate picks up regardless. “These meetings are expected to be kept private, but your phone is confiscated as a precaution.”

“The higher-ups?” The manager nods wordlessly. “Why?”

“I wasn’t trusted with that information.” The manager steps aside and motions toward the open door. “I’m your escort. Have you had breakfast? They’ve permitted us to stop for something if you need it.”

You don’t take the manager up on the offer.

The higher-ups are already waiting for you when you make it to campus. There are only three in the room, none of them speaking, only sipping at some tea. You recognize Principal Gakuganji, but that’s it. Even worse, they’re seated around a chabudai. They’re not close enough to touch, but it’s still a much more intimate setting than if they were all behind a desk with you in a chair across the room.

Gakuganji states your name and then motions to the empty spot at the chabudai. “Sit.”

The three men introduce themselves—Gakuganji, of course, and the other two are elders of the Zen’in and Kamo clans. You don’t bother to remember their given names. You doubt that you’d ever be in the realm of familiarity with these people and, yeah, maybe you can’t read the room well, but you know they look down on you. Satoru has warned you about elders in clans and those high up on the food chain.

Superiority complex bigger than mine, Sketch, Satoru had said. And with nothing to back it up! They’re weak as hell! Even the geezers in my clan!

Gakuganji is the first to speak. “Yaga should have instructed you to bring your drawings and notes. Did you?”

“Oh. Um. Yes.” You reach inside your bag to pull out the sketchbook. It makes you twitchy when you place it on the table and Zen’in immediately reaches out to roughly grab it and slide it over in front of him. You try not to cringe when you see it slide through some tea that spilled over the rim of his cup.

You’re not allowed to watch Zen’in long. Gakuganji asks, “Is that all?”

“Pardon?”

“I was informed that you had multiple sketchbooks. You’ve kept them since before you entered Jujutsu High, correct?”

Zen’in grunts. “Is there any organization to this?” Your hands fist the hem of your skirt. The disgusted curl of his lip is downright offensive. You keep those pages clean. They’re not cluttered with doodles. You limit one curse to each page. You’ve always had neat handwriting. What more does he expect? “Tch. You’ll have to go through and identify which are with Geto Suguru.”

A cold chill runs down your spine.

“Have some patience, Zen’in,” Kamo snaps. “We’re here for more than that.” Kamo is the youngest which is to say that he’s probably barely hit the retirement age. He smiles at you. “I apologize on his behalf, young lady. Continue, please.” You suspect that he’s meant to be the one you warm up to.

Very suddenly, viscerally, you become keenly aware that you’ve stepped inside a room full of snakes. What’s worse is that a misstep isn’t going to poison you alone. Suguru’s shadow is in the room. You don’t quite understand why your instincts scream danger. Normally, you wouldn’t trust them. Something tells you that you need to right now.

“I threw those away,” you lie. You’re a good liar. With a naturally emotionless expression and flat tone, people have as hard a time reading you as you do with them. “I only had one with me before I became a sorcerer, but I threw it away. It was full and I didn’t see a need for it. It was too messy to be submitted.”

Kamo’s lips twitch. “It’s truly only that one?”

“There are six-hundred blank pages, so I planned for it to last a long time. I have another one that’s more personal. Just to work on my art.” You nearly breathe a sigh of relief. For once, your meticulous nature of keeping a hard line between what you use your sketchbooks for comes in handy. “Here.” You set your smaller, personal sketchbook on the table.” I apologize for not getting it out before. I thought you meant only what I’ve done with cursed spirits.”

Gakuganji takes your personal sketchbook, only briefly skimming through with pursed lips. “I’m sure you’ve been told, but you’re expected to turn in your work to headquarters when it’s full.” You nod slowly. “We’ve been getting feedback about you, not only from Yaga but from other sorcerers. You were the one that helped with the Red Room Curse, yes?”

“Yes.”

Zen’in snorts. “You’re telling me that old urban legend was real?”

“Walk us through your thought process,” Gakuganji requests without acknowledging Zen’in.

“The internet, in the scheme of things, is relatively new. In my studies, I’ve learned that cursed spirits tend to stay away from technology. They usually interact with it only to destroy it. So, the curse using the internet as a tool to curse and travel was a huge red flag to me,” you explain. “Legends and cursed spirits can go hand-in-hand. An existing spirit inspires a legendary monster or the negativity around a legend will create a spirit.”

“Imaginary vengeful cursed spirits,” Zen’in grunts. “We know.”

“Not always,” you correct curtly. His eyes narrow at you. “There’s that old saying…legends have a sprinkle of truth to them. It’s smart to look into these cursed spirits. An imaginary vengeful spirit could have actually started out as a regular vengeful spirit that’s connected to an area or bloodline which is what happened here. Someone cursed a relative in the Taisho era, the spirit bound itself to a red journal, and gained power until it found an easier, faster way to spread itself.”

Kamo hums thoughtfully. “There was another incident last week.” You already know the one that he’s talking about. “Has Yaga told you the outcome of the situation?” You shake your head. “Did the sorcerer on call with you explain what that cursed object was?” Another shake of the head from you. “That was one of the fingers of Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, and you were right about the seal being weak. The seal was reinforced.”

“I’m glad.”

“How did you know?”

“The activity of the cursed spirits in the area,” you lie again. Rather, it’s not the whole truth. But you’re worried that the truth could come off as a concern for them.

When you were in the range of that finger, something inside you just…knew. The cursed energy that radiated from it…there was a sense of anticipation. It’d been disorienting because the spirits in the area had the same feeling, too. It left you reeling and jittery from secondhand adrenaline.

These men don’t need to know that you’re feeling cursed spirits. No. Cursed energy. As the days tick by, you’re getting closer and closer to your dreadful theory being proven correct. You don’t want the higher-ups to come to that conclusion, too. You’re not sure what would happen if they thought you could influence anyone with a shred of cursed energy.

“We’d like to offer you an internship of sorts,” Gakuganji speaks up. “Each of the major clans have a storage of cursed objects, tools, and weapons. We do this so everything isn’t centralized to the school campuses, in case of a successful raid. Starting your third year, we’d like you to visit their main compounds and examine their collections.”

You catch yourself before you agree. “I would need cursed spirits to see how they act.”

“That’s not a problem for the Zen’in. We have a pit full of them.”

Again, you bite back the urge to ask this man why the fuck his clan has a pit of curses. “The pacification alters their behavior. It would only be effective if I hid myself from them, but that doesn’t protect anyone else in the compound. I don’t feel comfortable with that kind of risk.”

Kamo and Zen’in burst out in loud guffaws. The sudden noise makes you visibly wince. When they quiet, Kamo explains the hilarity by saying, “You’ll be in compounds with some of the strongest sorcerers in the world. We can handle some low grade cursed spirits.”

Your brows furrow. “Won’t there be children—”

Zen’in rolls his eyes and waves off your concern with a callous, “They need the practice.”

Is this seriously what it’s like to be born into one of these clans? These men are at the highest place in their clans, in jujutsu society. Better than anyone else, they should understand how rare sorcerers are. Why would they be so careless with the lives of their clansmen? You understand that this is ruthless work, and to coddle children can be a death sentence in itself, but this just seems cruel for the sake of cruelty.

Was Satoru’s world this cruel?

“I’d like a partner with me,” you force yourself to politely request. “Please.”

“One of the first years,” Kamo reluctantly agrees. Your mouth opens to protest, but he holds a hand up. “No Gojo will step foot on my clan’s compound. As for the Geto boy, it’s pointless. His control over cursed spirits is as manipulative as your pacification abilities, right?”

“Yaga says that Nanami Kento is showing promise,” Gakuganji adds.

“For once, I agree with Kamo. I’d burn my compound to the ground before I let a Gojo waltz in,” Zen’in spits on the ground, to which Kamo and Gakuganji make displeased noises. “And I’m not adding more fodder to the army of that brat with the Curse Manipulation.”

An offer, they say, but even you with your struggles to grasp social cues knows that this isn’t an option. No one in your position can say no to the higher-ups. With a smile that’s probably more of a grimace, you grit out, “Nanami will be fine.”

Sensei is in the longue outside the room where you met with the three elders. Said men who had been escorting you out, all rush on, leaving you in your teacher’s care. Not that you want to be around him right now. You might be more furious with him than the people you just met with. Sensei is next in line to be principal. He’s essentially a liaison with Lord Tengen. There’s no way he didn’t know what this conversation would be about. You wonder if he’s the one that suggested this.

Maybe you’re overreacting, but it feels like he’s stabbed you in the back.

There’s a lot that you want to say, but you won’t. There’s no point in it. It’ll only send you to your inevitable breakdown. You feel that rumble inside you. But…maybe you can get some answers out of Sensei before that happens. So, you demand to know, “Why are they like that with Suguru? He hasn’t done anything!”

Sensei drops down in a chair, sighing tiredly as he goes. “It’s…not only Suguru. This is a lack of trust in anyone that’s been marked as Special Grade.”

“Why? What did they do that was so wrong?”

“Do you know what it takes for someone to be considered Special Grade?”

“Anomalies in the system,” you recite. His own words, you might add.

“Yes, but there’s more to it than that. The truth is that Special Grade sorcerers are those who have potential to devastate. You’re a logical girl. You can understand that Suguru has access to an army. Satoru, when he’s at his full potential, will most likely be the strongest sorcerer of the modern era—”

“Fear,” you spit. “This is fear.”

“Yes,” Sensei confirms without a beat. “They’re afraid. There’s currently only one other Special Grade sorcerer. Before this generation, the rank Special Grade had only been reserved for cursed spirits. To suddenly have so many, and all at once, it’s only made the higher-ups more afraid.” He hunches over, putting his elbows on his knees. “It’s not fair, I know, but this is how it has to be. That much power comes with certain responsibilities.”

Your fists clench. “I understand that, Sensei, but where’s the trust? All our lives, we’ve been…no one has ever trusted us. We came here because we wanted to be around people like us. We wanted to be accepted. What’s different between our village and here? Nothing. Sometimes, I think it’s worse. We’re not weapons. We’re people.”

“They know that.”

At your breaking point, you shout, “Do they?!” There’s so much more you want to say. I’m not spying on Suguru. I’ll lie on every single one of those pages that I send to headquarters. Somehow, you have the wherewithal to realize that that’s not a smart idea. Sensei is on your side, but not as much as you thought before. He’s chained by the higher-ups. “I’ll make my own way back to Tokyo.”

And you make sure to slam the door on the way out.

As you’re storming out of the building, you throw your hood up and shove on your sunglasses. You’re storming through campus with a trembling bottom lip and tears slowly trickling down your cheeks. You had hoped that it would be dead, but you’re not that lucky. There are a few students, a few more mature sorcerers, and you keep your head ducked down. You’re biting your lip raw to hold back the sobs threatening to spill out.

You make it as far as the outside of Kyoto High’s barrier before you can’t take it anymore and duck off the path. You drop down on a small boulder and cry. Between gasping breaths and desperately trying to wipe away tears that won’t stop, you pull out your cell phone.

Because you can’t do it. You can’t be around strangers. A two-hour bullet train ride is too daunting. Thinking of the smells of meals that people eat to pass the time, of the noise from even whispered conversations that would be loud to your overworking mind, of only an armrest separating you from another person and how that would make your skin crawl. An even worse hell would be a grueling five-hour drive with a manager back to Tokyo.

Please come pick me up, you text with trembling fingers. Not even thirty seconds later, your phone is ringing, but you quickly deny the call. No, you rush to text. Can’t talk, you add before he gets the wrong idea. Crying too hard to talk, you admit. The confession only makes you sob harder, of course. You can put your fist through monsters, but you can’t talk on the phone with your best friend without bawling like a baby.

Okay, Suguru responds back. I’ll take Hong there.

Manta ray back? I don’t want to be around people.

Whatever you want.

Thank you, Suguru.

Through the canopy of the trees, you see the glitter of Hong’s rainbow scales. You’ve managed to stop crying. And you thought that you’d be okay, but seeing the concern on Suguru’s face when he finds where you’ve hidden yourself away just brings it all back.

At this point, it’s not even so much the meeting. This is pure frustration with yourself. It’s shame and embarrassment. Just a little stress and you buckle. You hate this body. You hate this brain. Why can’t you be stronger? Why can’t you push yourself through the pain? Why does there have to be pain at all?

Suguru doesn’t speak. He sits down in front of the boulder, leaning his back against it. You spread your legs, allowing his shoulders to fit between them. He knows your tights are a barrier from skin contact, so he can freely lean his head to the side, resting against the inside of your knee.

Then, Suguru waits in silence.

You need his rock-solid presence but can’t bear him watching you in this pathetic state. It only makes things worse. Normal people would want to be comforted, to be hugged, but that’s just more stress. You can’t talk like this, so you feel stupid. You feel eyes on you, so you cry harder because you’re ashamed that you got here in the first place. If you were back on your campus, you would hide yourself away in your room until you’re calm. That’s not an option here.

And…and Suguru knows this. He knows you. He won’t look at you, won’t acknowledge that you’re breaking down. Why are you so kind? You think of those three stupid, old men. How can you be afraid of someone so kind?

“Su—” you choke on his name. You can’t speak past the lump in your throat. Angry that you can’t even manage his name, you ball up your fist and start banging it against your thigh. Like that can make your body cooperate. Or…it’s punishment. It might be that.

“Squid,” Suguru whispers as he reaches out to gently take your wrist. “I know you’re mad at yourself, but don’t do that. Why don’t I tell you about the cursed spirit we saw? We can make a game of it. I try to describe it. You try to draw it.” You shake your head furiously. “You’re stuck in the loop, aren’t you? Don’t you want out?”

The loop, you call it. The way you’re stuck in an endless cycle of berating yourself for being like this. You’ll never stop unless you have a distraction and his presence isn’t enough.

When Suguru hands you your sketchbook and a pencil, you take it.

There are a lot of tear stains on the paper by the time you calm all the way down, but it does the trick.

“Eh? That doesn’t look like it at all,” Suguru mutters when you hand him the finished product. “I didn’t think I was this bad at descriptions,” he remarks with a chuckle. “Still cool, though.” Slowly, he gets to his feet, patting his pants down to get all the dirt off. He turns around and holds out a hand to you. “Ready to go?”

You take his hand as an answer.

You don’t let go.

Suguru’s eyes widen a little when you thread your fingers through his. The two of you stand there for a minute before he’s squeezing your hand and guiding you back out to the main path. A manta ray spirit is waiting there for you both, low enough that you can step on it. You’re forced to let go of his hand, but you don’t want to lose that point of contact. You’re seated behind him, cross legged. You slip your arms around his waist from behind and press your forehead against his back.

Suguru covers his hands with yours and never stops during the whole ride back.

***

You decided that you wouldn’t tell anyone about the details of that meeting until you absolutely had to. The parts of it that you had to agree to, anyway. You won’t talk about them wanting you to spy on Suguru and keep track of his spirits because you’re not doing that. It’s an invasion of privacy that you refuse to be part of. Unlike the higher-ups that see Suguru and Satoru as tools to be kept track of, they’re your best friends.

Eventually, they’ll notice that you’re not marking which spirits are his. You’ve already started to come up with excuse—you forgot, you’re too focused on capturing the spirit on the page, you had it in your mind when you were preparing them to be sent to headquarters but forgot it. They’ll catch on, probably. After that, you’ll just lie. And it kills you inside a little, but you’ll have to stop marking the date on them. It really will make it harder to remember which assignments were with Suguru and which weren’t.

Suguru knows not to ask you about what made you so upset. Maybe he’ll give a half-hearted try in a week or two, but it’s too fresh. You’ll only get upset when you remember all the negative emotions that came with a breakdown. The only smart thing those old bastards did was to have you meet with them on a Friday.

It’s Sunday now and you feel a little better. Your defiance has helped mute your anxiety a little, you guess. After going the rest of Friday and all of yesterday without speaking, you think you can manage it today. Words don’t feel as heavy. It’s not as much a daunting task as it was before. Just like going to spend time with Satoru and Suguru is a little less tiring. That’s the thing, you love to hang out with them, but it still drains your battery. It doesn’t drain as fast or as much as it would if you were around some random strangers, but down goes that metaphorical battery all the same.

Satoru is already at the meeting place—one of the many koi ponds sprinkled around campus. You don’t want to deal with grass against your skin today, so you spread out a spare blanket from your room. Satoru hums before he’s scooting over to sit down on the blanket next to you.

The two of you are side-by-side, watching the occasional koi break the surface with a splash. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Satoru rocks back and forth, fidgeting with the hem of his pant legs. You’re not surprised when he finally asks the question because you’ve been expecting it. “Are you okay?”

“Better,” you answer honestly.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Oh.” From the corner of your eye, you see him frown. “Is it…because it’s me? I know I’m not good with…feelings and stuff. I can just fuck off if you wanted to just spend time with Suguru and talk and stuff…”

You smile. It’s small but sincere. “It’s not that, Satoru. If I wanted to talk about it, I’d feel okay doing it with you, too. But I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to cry again.”

He cringes. “Yeah, I don’t want you to cry, either.” He’s at the edge of the blanket and starts picking at blades of grass. “Is there anything I can do so that doesn’t happen again?”

“No,” you answer honestly. You’re surprised to see him flinch, like you’re hurting his feelings. He usually has thick skin. Ah, but he’s also used to being the answer to everyone’s problems. You don’t think there’s much that he can’t do. “The breakdowns are a part of me. There’s always going to be a potential to have one.” You pause. You’d rather not have him stress over this. “I can try to ask for help before it gets to that point, though. I don’t know—can you extend Infinity to protect others?”

“Ha, no. Not yet.”

“Well…I could use your blackout glasses? Light makes me the most sensitive.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, same.”

“I won’t use them, then.”

“I can handle it for a little bit if it’ll make you feel better,” he mumbles. “I kinda get what you’re going through. I used to get super overwhelmed when I was a kid, before I could control Infinity. I would get really angry, though. There were a few times that I’d grit my teeth so hard that I’m shocked now that my teeth didn’t get chipped. I guess a part of me was scared to cry in front of tutors, so I’d be angry instead.”

You do the thing that Suguru stopped you from doing when you were in the midst of it—beating a fist against your thigh. “I get mad, too. Just at myself.” Your brows furrow. “Oh. I get angry before that point, I think. Sometimes, when I’ve been by myself, I’ve punched walls.”

Satoru’s shoulders slump. You think…is that a sigh of relief from him? “I don’t feel so bad now,” he admits embarrassedly. “The clan was kind of understanding how sensitive I am with lights because of the Six Eyes, but…they never really got how much everything else built up.” He’s fidgeting even more, uncharacteristically nervous. “I never wore tabi socks with my yukata when I went out, in case there was some water somewhere. I hate how clothes feel on my skin when they’re wet. It’s…clingy.”

It’s slowly dawning on you. Curious, you ask, “How do you feel about cotton balls?”

You watch a shudder roll down his spine. “After my first cavity, I made sure I’d never get another one. I almost sent the dentist across the room with Blue when he put those things in my mouth.”

“Eye contact?”

“Ugh, I hate that stupid shit. My old man meets with people from other countries, and they’re obsessed with it. I’m so lucky I’m in Japan.” He sticks his tongue out in disgust. “I wish I was around you when I was a kid. The sunglasses idea saved my life and my reputation. Now, people can’t figure out where I’m looking.”

“Reputation? You have one of those?”

“Rude,” Satoru complains and pokes you insistently. “People think you’re all sweet, Sketch. You’re as much of an asshole as I am, y’know. People just forgive you because you have that pretty face and cute smile. It’s the same with Suguru, too. You’re both the golden kids!”

Your heart skitters at hearing pretty face and cute smile, but he included Suguru. It’s just an observation. An exaggeration in your case, definitely, but whatever. “It’s not being an asshole. I’m just blunt.”

“So am I!”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, and I’ve also studied other people, so I know what’s too far.” You hesitate. “Usually.” Another pause from you before you finally settle on a reluctant, “Sometimes. But definitely more than you.”

He’s pouting at you. “You could be nice and teach me.”

“You don’t care enough to learn.”

“I care about people!”

“I know that.” Hmm, how do you explain it? “I’ve kinda learned from seeing you interact with Nanami and Haibara that you use that bluntness as a way to help. Put you and, say, Suguru together. You both see the same flaw and point it out. You’re not as nice as Suguru, but you don’t waste time with niceties. They’re there to learn and be critiqued. It’s not a good idea to inflate their egos. That gets people killed.”

Satoru nods enthusiastically. “See? See! You get it!”

You rush to add, “But…you should give them encouragement. It sucks to constantly be told how you’re not doing things right. I know that way too well. Just ask Suguru.”

“You’re way too soft for this line of work, Sketch.”

This day is important, though you won’t realize that until much, much later. But isn’t that how life is? Hindsight being twenty-twenty and all that.

Today is the last day that you will see Satoru and Suguru smile genuinely for a very, very long time.

[astraysimp]

Meant to Be-9mitm

♡ Hi everyone! I am back with, what is sadly, the last chapter of 9mitm. 🙁

This has been truly such a joy for me to write and I have thoroughly looked forward to each Friday to put these pieces out for you guys. I want to say thank you to everyone who has shown both @straykeedz and I love on this collaboration. It really does mean the world to both of us. HOWEVER, this DOES NOT mean that dad!skz is over. No no, there is so much more to come! I hope you guys will look forward to it! (also me and ms. straykeedz and one of our other dear friends may or may not be planning a collab that will be on my smut page @singsangseung– please look forward to it, IF YOU ARE OF AGE) 

I want to give my pookie bear bestie @straykeedz a MASSIVE MASSIVE shoutout though. So, Bee, my bestie, my pookie bear…thank you so so so so much for making this collaboration happen. I remember us initially planning and discussing this baby MONTHS ago and to have finally finished her has been such a dream come true. It has been such a dream and honor and pleasure to work with you on this, pookie. Not only in the writing and collab aspect, but thank you for being my best friend. I genuinely am so glad that we made this happen and have become such close friends, even if we live so far apart. Your writing is so beautiful and i can only hope to be as amazing as you are,  one day. You are such a lovely person, through and through.  You hold such a dear place in my heart, the binnie to my minnie forever. I love you so so so much, pooks. Hopefully maybe, we shall collab again in the future. But, big big bug hugs and lots of love from me to you, bee!( please don’t cry reading this…..or I’ll cry too….or maybe let’s cry together)

OKAY OKAY OKAY BACK TO THE WRITING,.......just had to simp for my pookie real quick ….DEUCES 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

♡Summary: you didn’t mean to fall in love with your childhood best friend…much less did you expect to have a baby with him

♡Warnings: childhood best friends to lovers! Jeongin, dad!innie, pet names, MARSHMALLOW FLUFF, kinda angst( if you count exes giving I.N and y/n ultimatums), fem!reader, mad I.N, cursing, italicized text refers to the past 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

There was never a point in your life where Jeongin wasn’t there. In fact, he had been in your life since the two of you were still in the womb. Your mothers were best friends, and had somehow gotten pregnant at the same time. That, obviously, meant that the babies(you and Jeongin) would be best friends, as well. Heck, your mothers had a shared baby shower, shared gender reveal party and had managed to give birth a day apart.

So, all in all, you and Jeongin have always been attached at the hip inseparable. (And, your mothers secretly hoped you two would date some day)

Growing up, you were each others’ first friends, other than your siblings. Of course you would be, you two were raised together, practically siblings at that point. It never bothered you, how close you two were. The two of you were two peas in a pod, the peanut butter to the other’s jelly. You were always playing together, laughing together, crying together, sticking up for one another.

The thing was, the older you grew, the more friendly affectionate you got– cuddling, hugs, hand holding, him defending you from bullies– but it was platonic.Or so it seemed at the time, which you wouldn’t realize until later on. You and Jeongin were always adamant on that. But, what you and him saw as platonic others saw as flirting. It being “too close to be just friendly.” 

When you and jeongin were in high school, you each had a couple of boyfriends or girlfriends. And, every time they had given you or him the ultimatum of me or them. And without a shadow of a doubt, every time, you had chosen one another. Claiming, “boyfriends and girlfriends come and go. But, we’re forever,” and forever, you were. 

One memory, however, was clear in your mind.  Jeongin had been dating his girlfriend, Hyerin, for about 2 months. She never liked you, but never up front would tell you why. You just felt it. In the way she looked at you, tried to separate you and Jeongin, excluded you from plans. It was clear as day. Jeongin hated the fact that his girlfriend didn’t like his best friend. The reasons she wouldn’t tell you, she did tell Jeongin, though. “You and y/n are way too close.” “She's so into you, and you don’t tell her to stop.” “You’re always with her, more than with me.” all of which, he argued back with, “we’ve literally grown up together, of course we’re close,” “I’m with you all the time, Hyerin,” “she’s not into me, we’re just friends. I’ve already told you that!” 

That one day, it was the end of school and you had been making your way to where Jeongin’s locker was located, excited to hang out and grab snacks at the local convenience store. But, as you were approaching, you could see Jeongin standing there, his back turned to you, while Hyerin stood opposite of him. They were arguing and luckily you had been out of eyesight.

“Jeong, she’s way too close to you for you to be just friends!” She had yelled, venom laced in her voice. You never thought you were ‘too’ close, you and Jeongin had been friends since in the womb.

“Hyerin! We are just friends! How many times do I have to go over this with you?! I am dating YOU!” Jeongin yelled back, frustratedly running a hand through his straight black hair. He sounded just as angry and heated as she did. “Does she think there’s something going on between us?” You thought to yourself.

“It doesn’t feel like it! Wherever you go, she goes with. A date for us turns into you two in the light and me being a third wheel on a date with my own boyfriend!” Hyerin complained, her fists balled up, at her sides. “Whenever I go to your house, she’s there and if you’re not home then you're at HER house!” her voice boomed. But it was true. You and Jeongin were always either at one another’s houses or out chilling somewhere. You just hadn’t known it was this problematic, because she never voiced these issues to you or pulled you aside for a conversation. You would’ve understood her frustrations.

Even just seeing how his shoulders were squared, and how tense his body seemed, you knew that he was pissed, more pissed than you’ve ever seen him before. “Well, what the fuck do you want me to do?! What is it that you want Hyerin?!” He barked, making overly obnoxious hand gestures at her.

Oh, she knew exactly what she wanted…

“Choose. Me or y/n, Jeong. “

..but she wasn’t expecting the answer she got

Jeongin always knew his answer would be you, and you would always choose him. That choice was as easy as breathing. So, with a light scoff, he gave her his answer

“Y/n”

Hyerin’s jaw positively dropped. She was gobsmacked. “Really?! Really?! Are you fucking serious, Jeongin?!” Dead serious, he was dead serious. So he laughed, “Of course I’m being serious. I’ll always choose y/n. Hyerin, we’re done.” He laughed out, venomously. 

Well damn, she was at a loss for words. Storming off, she spotted you and rolled her eyes. “There’s your precious y/n, Jeongin,” was all she got out before she turned the corner.

Timidly, you approached him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Innie, you okay?” You asked, running a hand through his soft hair. That alone, had managed to take his level of anger from a boil to a simmer. Sighing, he nodded and pulled you into his chest, asking with a quiet voice. “I’m okay. Are you okay? How much did you hear?”

Even through his bad moments, which you’ve seen a lot of , he was always concerned for you. Rubbing a hand up and down the expanse of his back, you sighed. “I should be the one asking if you’re okay. You and your girlfriend just broke up……because of me,” you whispered, tucking your face into his chest, inhaling his sweet woodsy scent. 

“Bun, I know. But, if she can’t accept our friendship, then it would have never worked out. I’m always always always going to choose you, bun.” He whispered, cupping your cheeks in his large hands, and swiping the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks, before he closed his fox-like eyes, before pressing his slightly chapped lips against your strawberry lip balm flavored ones.

That was how your relationship started, a whopping year and a half ago. . You didn’t plan on falling in love with your best friend. Honestly, you had never expected to, and neither did he. But, of course neither of you regretted it and the more you thought about it……maybe you and Jeongin had always had those romantic feelings all along and were too afraid to take the plunge, afraid that it could ruin the friendship you sustained. 

When you think about it, the hand holding, cuddling, protectiveness, longing to constantly be near one another, ‘platonic’ kisses did seem a little more romantic and a little less platonic.Your moms always wanted you two to end up dating. Saying that “it  would be perfect, we’re best friends, and you’re best friends so it makes sense. You two know each other so well already!” But, you had always brushed it aside, telling them “we’re just friends, mom.Nothing more, just two best friends. Maybe, they knew all along that you two would end up together. Call it mother’s intuition.

As you and Jeongin grew up and your bond only grew, you were even confused as a couple on numerous occasions. One of your favorite memories being  when you two went to Lotte land together. You wore a coordinating outfit. His was a pair of cream colored  pants, a white tee shirt with a short sleeved soft blue plaid overshirt, finished with a pair of sneakers. You wore a dress in the same color and pattern as his overshirt, with a white tee-shirt underneath with a matching pair of sneakers. Large happy smiles on your faces, as you walked the park,hand in hand.

“Ah, what a lovely couple you make,” an older lady complimented the pair of you. This was a normal thing for you, so neither of you minded it–maybe even liked it. Being mistaken as a couple had happened to you and Jeongin so many times that you both had just started accepting the compliment and not even trying to rebuttal with, “oh. We’re just friends.” Maybe you two liked being mistaken for a couple, so happily in love. Politely, you both nodded and bowed at the older woman. “Thank you,” you replied, a soft blush tinting your cheeks. With that, Jeongin squeezed your hand, a soft giggle escaping his lips. “ We do make a pretty cute couple don’t we, bun?”

But getting to love your best friend was as easy as breathing. You knew everything there was to know about each other. You knew how he liked his eggs–scrambled with bell peppers,cheese, with salt and pepper to taste. Jeongin knew how you liked your iced coffee– light ice, chocolate caramel flavoring, extra syrup and extra creamer (because you don’t like the taste of coffee). You knew how he used to eat sand, or that he tried to run away from home when he was 7.Jeongin knew that you hated brussel sprouts and broccoli, so whenever you had them on your plate he would eat them for you. Conversely, you knew that he loved  tteokbokki, cheese tteokbokki specifically. So, as a true best friend would, you learned how  to make it or would always stop at a local food stand to pick him up a fresh order.  He knew that you were scared of the dark until you were 11. that you had a massive fear of heights and spiders–or just bugs in general, but you liked fireflies because their butts glowed and it reminded you of the movie Princess and the Frog, even though your favorite movie was Tangled. 

When he got braces? You were there. In fact, you were the first person to see him with them, outside of his family. “I hate them, bun. They hurt and look stupid,” he whined, trying to conceal his new smile. “Aish, Innie. You’ll be okay and in fact…I think they look nice.” You consoled him, pulling his hands away from his mouth so you could rub wax over the metal wires that would straighten his teeth out. 

Two years later, when he got his braces off, you accompanied him to the appointment. Hand in hand, you watched as his orthodontist clipped the brackets, pulled out the wire, and smoothed his newly straightened teeth. “Wah, my innie-ah! You look so good! Smile, smile, smile!” You cheered, gently pulling him to sit up in his chair. “Aigo, don’t embarrass me, we’re in public, bun.” He blushed, nonetheless flashing you a bright smile, that you had captured through a picture. “I don’t care! You look so nice, Jeongie!’ The compliment fell from your lips and through his ears, only further reddening his cheeks and causing him to grab your hand to pull you from the orthodontists office. He apologized for making a fuss. But, how could you not? He was too cute and handsome.

Nothing was a secret when it came to you and Jeongin. It was kind of impossible, when you were friends since you were in the womb. For every step, story and milestone you reached; you were there witnessing it all or would tell each other about it. You also knew that the both of you wanted to have kids, one day. He wanted a boy and a girl and you wanted the same.

Baby names were a conversation you’d had many times. It always came up in conversation, at least, once a week. It started when you were younger, playing house with your baby dolls. They had to have names.

“Jeongieeeeeee, we have to name our baby.” you whined, holding the baby doll in your hands. “Whyyyyy?” A then 10 year old, Jeongin complained, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. Baffled, you drew your eyebrows up. “Why? What do you mean why? We can;’t just call our baby bean, or baby or peanut! The baby needs a name, you pabo!” the words drawled from your lips as you pouted. “Yes we can! I never call you by your name, just by a nickname. We can do the same for our baby.” He complained, his fox eyes turning into small slivers as he sighed. All the while, your eyes were turning into big brown puppy ones. “Nooooooo, innieeeeee! We have to name the babbbbyyyyy. I didn’t carry and birth our baby for him to not have a nameeeeeee,” you dragged on, even going as far as to stomp your feet. “Fine fine fine, aigoo, bun.” He sighed, patting you on the head. “How about Mi-rae?” the name fell from his lips, so easily. “I like it, baby Yang Mi-rae.” 

Mi-rae…it meant future. Funnily enough, a real baby was in your future. And yes….. You took playing house very seriously. 

Little did you know, you would go from playing house to living together in a house, with your baby.

But, you never would have expected to have a baby together. Playing house and raising a baby doll was a very stark contrast to raising a real living, breathing, crying, eating, sleeping, peeing, pooping baby.  Finding out that you were expecting, was quite the surprise for you and jeongin. On the other hand, your moms were ecstatic, over the moon, excited, jumping for joy.

“I knew this would happen. It’s about time! Our babies are having a baby!” Your mom had squealed, when you told her the news. “I know! Oh my gosh! Ah!” his mom had smiled in return. While they were celebrating, you and Jeongin stood looking at each other with a puzzled and befuddled look on your faces. “ What do you mean about time? You knew this would happen?” you blinked blankly at your mother’s. 

Had it not clicked to you before? Turning to you, Jeongin’s mom, softly, placed her hands on your cheeks. “Oh my dear. You two have been closer than atoms and completely inseparable since you have been in the womb. It was only a matter of time before you and Jeongin got together and gave us a baby.” She cooed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of joy. Similarly, your own mother had pulled you into a warm comforting embrace. “Pumpkin, it’s true. Yes, you and Innie may have denied the feelings when you were younger, but you always choose each other, you two are attached at the hip, act like a couple. We’re so so happy for you two.”

As you named your play baby when you were ten years old, your son was named Mi-rae. He was your pride and joy and a complete carbon copy of his dad, at least in looks. As a baby, Jeongin was naughty, mischievous, always keeping your parents on edge– thankfully, he mellowed out throughout the years. Jeongin always valued his personal space, not being one to enjoy in skinship– unless it was with you. Mi-rae on the other hand was calm, peaceful, and the cuddliest little bun.

He may have looked like Jeongin– sleek ebony hair, dark brown fox like eyes, deep dimples– but his personality mimicked yours. Cuddly, loves skinship, always tired, loving. Interestingly enough, Mi-rae only accepted cuddles from you or Jeongin. Much like how Jeongin only took cuddles from you, even if he acted annoyed at the times you plopped your body on him. 

At the moment, Mi-rae is 9 months old and it is currently 7:30 pm. Which is his bedtime,  since you and Jeongin wanted him to be on a steady and consistent sleep schedule. Thankfully, he was also a heavy sleeper ( like his dad) and had no issues sleeping throughout the night. You were holding him in your arms,gently rocking him. Something that helped  put him at ease and signaled his body that it was time to sleep. “My little love, it’s bedtime. Is mommy’s angel boy ready to sleep?” You cooed, looking down at him with the purest love in your eyes. 

With a pacifier tucked in his mouth, he looked up at you, slow blinks fluttering his eyes. Quietly, Jeongin walked up behind you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Hi, honey love. Is angel boy asleep,yet?” His voice resonated, his timbre soft and gentle. Shaking your head, you carefully ran the back of your knuckle along the soft plump expanse of Mi-rae’s cheek. “Not yet, Innie. Think he’s getting there, though.” You whispered, seeing Mi-rae’s eyes flutter once more, as the grip he had on your shirt loosened slightly. “Sleepy boy, our sleepy boy.” Jeongin mumbled, leaning to press a kiss to the babe’s forehead. “Our sleepy boy,” you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Jeongin’s lips. 

Blinking his eyes, Mi-rae fell asleep, his breathing becoming steady and slow. “There he goes. Sleep tight, angel.” Jeongin chuckled, watching the steady rise and fall of Mi-rae’s chest. Although you knew that co-sleeping wasn’t the best, you really truly couldn’t help it. What do you mean put Mi-rae in his crib when he was so peacefully captured by dreamland? No, no, no. Risking him waking up when you put him in his crib? Again,no.

Admittedly, you and Jeongin used to be pretty bad with your co-sleeping habits. But, neither you nor Jeongin wanted to be away from Mi-rae, always making sure he was safe, at peace and surrounded by love. It was hard to let him sleep in his bassinet; the same bassinet that was right next to your bed. For the first 5 months of Mi-rae’s life, he slept in that bassinet. Even harder was when you moved Mi-rae on from his bassinet to his crib. His crib was in a completely separate room–separated by its own walls and a door. For you and Jeongin, that was a big jump. It seemed so far(it was literally 10 feet away). 

Mi-rae’s nursery–warm, simple, soothing, calm. The small home you and jeongin shared was modern yet cozy. New yet familiar. So, similarly you wanted Mi-rae’s nursery to have the same feeling and aura. That took bright colors out of the equation. Dark colors? A no– Mi-rae was a happy baby and so were you and Jeongin. No bright colors and no dark colors. Neutrals, and warmth.  Off whites, creams, soft tinged colors. But, not pastel, just muted. 

Three of the walls of the nursery were an eggshell ivory color. A muted sage green accent wall, framing the soft ash colored crib. On the accent wall were bold cut out letters of his name, painted in an antique gold color- so it stood out, but not too much. 

The crib was slightly warm in tone, the color of its grain matching the color of the three remaining walls. Wanting to keep the tones and vibes as similar and cohesive as possible, the mattress was dressed in an off white bedsheet, a handmade sage green blanket thrown over its rail and a simple cloud mobile hanging over the top. Seeing as you spent a lot of time in the nursery: it was a wise decision to have a reclining chair in the corner, with a lamp nestled in the corner and a sage blanket, for cold nights and napping.

Simplistic, so there were a few toys lingering, but not too many.  Sure, Mi-rae had a lot of toys, but you and jeongin didn’t like clutter. He was also mostly in the warm loving embrace of his mother or father most of the time, anyways. So, wisely a majority of the toys were stored in a toy box, being kept on a rotation on a regular basis. There was a bookshelf against the wall, next to it a changing table with a small garbage can. Only keeping the essentials out, and leaving the room to feel open.

As good as you and Jeongin have been co-sleeping, in the past, one night wouldn’t hurt. Peering up at jeongin, your eyes locking with his fox-like ones, there was a silent agreement made. Just tonight, then in the crib tomorrow. That look was all the two of you needed, as you made your way to your shared bedroom; which was, funnily enough, decorated in the same color scheme as Mi-rae’s nursery. That wasn’t even planned, just sheer coincidence. 

By that time of night, the pair of you had already exchanged your day clothes for warm loungewear, sweats or pajamas. Today hadn’t been necessarily tiring or strenuous or stressful. It’s just that raising a baby took a lot out of you both, so you were ready to climb into bed earlier than most people did. Exchanging all nighters and energy drinks for early nights in and dirty diapers was your new routine, new life, new normal and you loved it. It was calm, peaceful, full of love and filled your heart with warmth.

“Ready for bed, bun?” Jeongin’s voice resonated, from his spot on his designated side of the bed– it was closer to the door and it made him feel as though he was protecting you. Nodding your head softly, you adjusted your hold on a sleeping Mi-rae as you managed to climb your way on your bed.

Bun, your favorite nickname from Jeongin. The main reason he called you bun was because you loved to eat sugar coated bread rolls. They were your favorite snack, leaving a coat of white sugar crystals on your fingertips. “Jeongie, they’re so good!” You always exclaimed, trying to get him to try one. Even with his lack of a sweet tooth, he would admit they were good. So, he just started to call you bun and from that day it stuck. Yeah, he had other nicknames for you– y/nnie, tiny, mini– but bun was the one he used most predominantly. You were his bun and he was your Jeongie, your innie. You were his and he was yours.

 “I am, honey love.” The soft honey-esque sound of your melodious cadence replied to him. A smile tugged on the corners of his lips, turning them into a soft grin, he held his arms open for you waiting for you to be in his safe, secure and loving hold. “Come here, then. I know you’re tired.” A tired titter left him, his chest slightly vibrating as he saw you scooch closer to him. Once in reach of his arms, you were pulled tightly to his chest. A soft sage green duvet being cast over your bodies, as a kiss as soft as a butterfly’s wing was placed to your temple. “Can you believe it? Who knew that we’d be here?” Another soft chortle escaped his pink lips as he looked down at the babe in your arms. “ I know. It’s pretty crazy. But do you ever think our moms were right? That,maybe, we did have feelings for one another all along but we just couldn’t recognise it?” You pondered, relaxing your body and melting to fit the shape of his. 

“It makes sense, bun. We’ve always been close. We always have chosen each other.” Jeongin whispered back, his voice laced with the want to sleep, and a yawn spilling from his lips. As yawns do, his yawn triggered one to be pulled from your own body. “Mmmm. I mean, that’s true,” you echoed back, your ear pressed to his chest to hear his heartbeat. “I’m glad they were though….I think we would’ve ended up together eventually one day,bun.” He cooed, gently caressing your cheek with the knuckle of his middle finger. “I think so too. We’re just meant to be, in all ways, shapes, forms, and universes. We’ve always been tied together…cut from the same cloth.” You sleepily acknowledged, voice starting to become slurred with sleep as your words started to drift away to your own dreamland. Kissing your forehead, Jeongin flicked the light on your nightstand off so he too could fall into dreamland. “You’re my future. You have always been my future. I love you, my bun,” he tenderly expressed, his own eyes finally falling shut.His mind calmed and he was welcomed to his world of dreams, filled with you and Mi-rae, but he could still hear you let out the faintest whisper. 

“I love you too, my forever.”

♡Please don’t steal,repost on any website, paraphrase, or in anyway claim my works as yours♡ ©AStraySimp2023 ♡ 

🏷️ @mellhwang ; @autumn583 ; @hyunsvngs ; @hotchnrz ; @galamxy ; @ebbaskz ; @turtledove824 ; @galaxycatdrawz ; @fawnpeaks ; @bigsobs4skz ; @143lix ; @bangchans-babygirlgirl ; @aaasia111 ; @reid-deiri ; @tenshimara ; @dancerachaslut ; @peachygirlsthings ; @saturnandgold ; @justscrollinthrough ; @jesuisstay ; @shinywolfbears ; @lewoh-ot8-wh0re ; @alnex05 ; @mixtape-racha ; @shujohajohaminnie ; @heartheartisa ; @skzstaykatsy ; @manuosorioh ; @whosanaanyway ; @cvntywonyo ; @notastraykid ; @jinnie-ret♡

[sorceresssundries]

Giveaway Piece <3

So, to celebrate 500 followers I did a little giveaway, which @littlelostmabari won!

I offered to write whatever she liked (within reason) and she had the lovely idea of snippets of her and her bestie's Tavs post-game, after completing their co-op play through together. So, this is the little tale of Enlee and Felendaera, and their ever-enduring friendship

It is early morning in Waterdeep, and Gale and Enlee are entwined together in that last precious hour of sleep. Their heads are full of waking birdsong and the wisps of soon-to-be-forgotten dreams. No tadpole. No quests. Just them, in their tower, with Tara purring contentedly and stretching out her paws at the foot of their bed.

Their home, the centre of their universe, is lighter now they live there together; more windows have been added, and sunbeams flood in to wash away the settled shadows of long-lost loneliness. Stacks of books now have plants balancing atop them, their tendrils coiling down to brush against well-loved pages. The scent of blooming flowers mingles with the faint aroma of parchment and ink.

In one corner of the room, a desk stands by a large window that overlooks the bustling city below. The desk is cluttered with arcane scrolls, ink pots, and worn quills. Amidst the organised chaos lies an opened letter, its parchment glowing softly in the morning light. 

Dearest Enlee,

Your letters bring me comfort and warmth in places where light doesn’t always reach. Astarion and I have been busy, leading the freed spawn through the Underdark and stomping out all kinds of vicious creatures. We came across an unusually large group of nothics at one point which almost got the better of us; luckily, they were no match for the paladin and her vampire. We may have gotten lost several times, a few times, once or twice, but that’s all part of the adventure!

We have been following the legends of artefacts, potions, or even spells that will once again grant Astarion the ability to walk in sunlight. He says if he can also find one that grants me eternal life, that would be a wonderful bonus…  we’re working on it.

After finding a (very boring) book on vampiric history, we learned of a rumoured cure for sunlight sensitivity. We managed to track down the author, a 600-year-old monster hunter who had dedicated his life to learning the intricate details of vampirism. Unfortunately, he turned out to be kind of a dick and attempted to attack Astarion, so I DID end up killing him. Understandable, I'm sure you’ll agree. Astarion was furious; and called me a ‘sexy, head-bashing lunatic’. I stand by my decision.

Anyway, Astarion wasn’t too mad to loot his corpse and found a few interesting clues as to where we should continue our adventure. We found a map, old and tattered, but still legible, pointing to a forgotten temple deep within the Underdark. According to the notes we deciphered, the temple is said to house a relic known as the Sunstone, a gem that holds the power of daylight. If the legends are true, it could be the key to Astarion’s freedom from the shadows.

The journey ahead promises to be perilous. The path to the temple is fraught with ancient traps and guarded by creatures of darkness. Yet, the prospect of giving Astarion the gift of sunlight fills me with a purpose I have not felt in a long time. I fight for him now, and for our long and happy future. I would fight the will of the sun itself if it meant granting him the life he deserves. 

The two of us are growing stronger together with each challenge we face, and every quiet moment in between. We’ve learned to rely on each other in ways neither of us expected.

We will press on, guided by the hope that someday, we will stand together with you again in the light of day, and my cheeks will be warmed by sunshine and the laughter you always gifted me. I’ll write to you again soon, my dear friend. Until then, know that your words keep me going in the darkest of times.

Love always, 

Felendaera

In a distant, glowing corner of the Underdark, Astarion and Felendaera are indulging in a sliver of welcome rest before their adventures continue. The pale elf carefully stitches together some of his beloved’s clothing, which has been ripped by one monstrous creature or another, whilst Felendaera rests with her head on his lap, reading a map of where they have been so far, and where their journey has yet to take them.

Mushrooms of varying colours and sizes cling to the face of a towering rock face above them, so high it is impossible to see the top. The pale blue light from the closest mushroom gleams against Astarion’s ashen skin, making him look even more corpse-like than usual. Felendaera longs for him to be bathed in light that warms him, and often thinks back to their days under the summer sun. She remembers how he’d turn his face to the sunlight like a flower drinking in sustenance or how, when they stopped to rest a while, he would always manage to find a spot in the brightest light, like a cat following a patch of sunshine that moves with the hours.

Their camp is a small glimmer amidst the vast darkness. A soft, worn blanket is spread beneath them, and their tent, pitched nearby, is barely a refuge from the dangers of the Underdark. Inside the tent, the remnants of their last looting frenzy are neatly packed away, and a lantern with a faint, magical glow casts gentle shadows on the canvas walls.

In the corner of the tent, a letter lies open atop a neatly folded cloak. Its edges are slightly worn, suggesting it has been read many times. The parchment is adorned with the familiar, flowing script of an old friend…

Dear Felendaera,

I hope you are keeping safe on your adventures. I think of you often and miss you always. Life has been a lot quieter since we last saw each other, but I am settling into life with Gale and finding joy in the quiet heartbeat of a well-loved home—a new concept for me.

The tower has been in a bit of disarray since I moved in. Gale continues to be very patient with my… intuitive… wildshape transformations. Recently, I thought there was an intruder and, as a completely understandable reaction, turned into an owlbear—a protective reflex, I guess. Anyway, I broke the bed. And some shelves… and the floor. It turned out it was just Gale’s mirror image doing the washing up. Luckily, he found it quite funny; Tara did not.

Tara has warmed up to me, although she still does not have much patience for my cat form. She thinks I am being ‘contemptuous’ when I meow at her during her complaints about me to Gale.

“Mr. Dekarios! Your partner is leaving hairs all over MY favourite sunspot again!”

“MR. DEKARIOS, Your live-in love interest has eaten MY fresh salmon! Please keep her meals separate from mine. I am not used to sharing, and my tolerance levels are diminishing at an ever-increasing rate. If she scares away the pigeons I have been patiently lulling into a false sense of security, I will be forced to serve her a notice of eviction.”

I think she likes me.

It was a struggle at first to adapt to city life. The scents and sounds are strange, and the people are often dishonest and rude, but together we’ve figured out a way to bring nature to the tower. 

Vines now wrap round its bricks and bloom flowers in all shades of blues and purples, birds nest in the rafters and sing their morning songs out to the sea. There is a garden, where plants grow fruits and vegetables for Gale to cook in our blissful evenings. He has introduced me to other druids within the city, and we often travel to the Ardeep Forest and meditate at the Green Glade and camp under the stars at the Dancing Dell. Here, I am free to run, swim and fly in whatever shape my soul shifts into, but I always fly back to Gale. Back to my home. 

Gale is a born teacher. He often tests his lessons out on me, and my magic usage has become much more refined. I can’t really sit still long enough to focus on a book, and all the long words are very boring. But sometimes, after listening to Gale, when the weave feels bright and familiar, I can smell the rosewater and taste its sweetness on the tip of my tongue. It moves through me as though it’s a strong autumn breeze, and I am made of leaves.

I can wield sharp purple magic I never accessed before, only for a few moments, when the weave sparks across my fingertips - and I have never felt stronger. 

One day i’ll be powerful enough to craft illusions and mirror images the way Gale does, and then i’ll meet you in all our favourite places. I’ll create stained-glass monasteries, and summer warmed campsites, and even the highest points of the city where we can sit on rooftops with our legs swinging and watch the world go by. 

I hope you are happy. I hope you are loved. I know you are the sunshine that Astarion has been missing and that you warm his days, just as you warmed mine. 

I miss you my friend, and will write again soon. 

Ruffle Astarion’s hair for me. He’ll hate it.  

Love always, 

Enlee 

In both of these places, - one high above and the other down below, another letter sits curled and opened. Two twins, identical in every way.

The frail script, although recently written, feels ancient and hallowed.

Esteemed Guests,

It is with great reverence and peculiar delight that I extend this invitation to a gathering most deserved.

In a tenday’s time, there shall be tales of valour shared and goblets raised to fallen allies. We shall convene at the place where camp was first found, where strangers became comrades.

Come as ye are, and know that the bounds of the living and the departed shall blur, and all shall find solace and camaraderie within these sacred celebrations.

May this be a night to seal the bonds forged in battle, to cherish the echoes of past deeds, and to cast an eye towards adventures which may yet call for your valour...

Thy journey doth continue, the dice must roll again. 

With regards and curiosity,

Your loyal scribe. 

[imagine-knb]

idk if you've watched it, but I'm really into the one piece live action right now. So if they were on a pirate crew, what do u think the gom+uk+kagami would be?

anon, I have some bad news: none of the admins have watched One Piece... But my bestie is obsessed with that show, so I asked her a looooot of questions for research purposes! And also used this site here when her advice still made no sense to me... Here's my best shot! Admin Neon

Kuroko — the boatswain

as the boatswain, Kuroko often reports to his captain about the progress of certain projects around the ship

his job is made a lot easier because of his naturally low presence; he's able to sneak around the ship without a lot of notice

this has people willing to get on his good side no matter the cost, because if he's easily able to report the great job you're doing, he's also able to report when people are slacking

Kagami — the (unwilling) cook

when he ran away from home to become a pirate, Kagami had big dreams of grand adventure and a lot of fighting

unfortunately, he's the best cook on the damn boat, so he got roped into being the chef for every meal instead

that doesn't stop him from joining in on a fight when there's a scuffle aboard his ship (the captain would never let him leave to board another ship)

Kiyoshi — the cooper

being a big and strong guy makes him the perfect candidate to be stowing and moving the barrels on board

this also means he is in charge of organizing all the items, which might not have been the best decision; only Kiyoshi knows how he organized the barrels and none of it makes sense to anyone else

he may or may not have done this on purpose to make himself invaluable to the captain

Kise — the navigator

not much of a fighter, but having gained an education due to his upbringing, Kise becomes the navigator for the crew

he's not very good at first and, in his earlier years pirating, often leads his crew right into the thick of danger

thankfully the devil's fruit he consumed gives him the power to temporarily copy the skillset of people nearby, so in a pinch he can fight just as well as his strongest ally

Aomine — the (unwilling) carpenter

much like his red haired rival, Aomine also joined a pirate crew with the thought that he would be seeing a lot of action

he was forced to pick up a job on board during the times where fights weren't happening, so he started apprenticing after the ship's old carpenter

more than once he's had to repair a breach underwater and he always swears he sees mermaids

Midorima — the medic

being the medic of the crew often meant that Midorima was dealing with more than just the sick; he was also dealing with the dead

he's one of the cleanest people on board the ship due to the nature of his work

often, he is escorted away from scuffles that break out on board; the captain will do anything to ensure the only medic is safe

Murasakibara — the sailmaker

being one of the taller members of his crew, it only made sense to make Murasakibara the sailmaker after he'd been asked to re-tie down some sails for the umpteenth time

the power he gained from his devil fruit has made the job of patching those high up holes much easier, as it allows him to grow at will to unsurpassable heights without changing his mass

unfortunately it also makes him an easier target when he's playing lookout for enemy ships

Akashi — the captain

having run away from home, Akashi starts his own pirate crew in the hopes that he can make a name for himself, whether he be famous or infamous

often rivaling pirates will not realize he's the captain at first since he isn't the largest and most ruthless looking of the group

what they fail to notice is that Akashi has certain pull from the shadows that makes him more terrifying than a traditional captain

Mibuchi — the quartermaster

as the captain's number one right hand man, Mibuchi knows the ins and outs on how to run a successful pirate crew

it's common that quartermasters become the next captain when new ships are taken over, but to Mibuchi, this would be a nightmare

often, instead of taking over new ships himself, he will assign another high ranked crew member to do it for him; he just can't leave his captain's side

Nebuya — the gunner

as the person in charge of the arsenals, Nebuya is also in charge of the main fleet that performs attacks on other ships

he runs a tightly knit, no nonsense fleet that is famed for their ruthlessness out on the open waters

he works closely with the captain and seems to be loyal, but there have been rumors lately that he's been eyeing out becoming a captain himself

Hayama — the cannon operator

the devil fruit he consumed makes him just as fast as lightning, so it's only natural that Hayama is in charge of reloading the canons

he works extremely well with whatever gunner is in charge, being able to pick up on their verbal cues just as quickly as they say them

whichever crew happens to have him on their ship is practically ensured easy victories, as he's become a master at knowing exactly which canons to fire and where at a moment's notice

Hanamiya — the stowaway

he'd hidden himself amongst some empty barrels when he first joined the pirate crew on their journey, but was soon discovered by the pesky cooper

once discovered, Hanamiya spent a lot of time in the brig while the captain debated with his crew on what to do with their stowaway

he garners some trust from them (a foolish mistake) and ends up doing small jobs around the ship to help; eventually he becomes known for ruthlessly executing whoever dares try sink the ship he's on

[eldweena]

Recently finished reading City of Nightmares by Rebecca Schaeffer, and I loved it!

*Review based on an ARC from NetGalley*

Oh. My. Gosh. I had so much fun with this book! There were so many things I loved. This book became an instant favorite for me and I loved it from start to finish.

The protagonist is a self-admitted coward and I loved that about her. She's not brave or magical or powerful or special at all. Her parents and sister are dead; she's broke and homeless; she's basically afraid of her own shadow. She lives with and works for a DEFINITELY-NOT-A-CULT, where she sleeps in a closet. And she's okay with that, as long as she has a place to hide. She's got exactly one friend and no hope for any kind of future. She was just so common and relatable. I mean, if I lived in her world, where anyone who dreams about a monster can turn into one, I would also join a...group...for sketchy (but free!) room and board. I could easily sympathize with her and I loved her whole personality. She felt quirky and interesting without being given any special powers or being the most beautiful girl on the block or destined for greatness. She was an actual Plain Jane and it was so cool! Such a rare type of heroine.

The secondary main character is a vampire. And you want to like him. He seems nice. He never does anything to make you suspicious. And yet... He IS a vampire. So you keep wondering if he's really as trustworthy as he seems.

The other characters were great too, whether they were friends or foes. The MC's bestie was kick-ass and I loved her. I hope there's lots more of her to come. She doesn't mind her best friend being a coward; she loves fighting bad guys and protecting her friend. There's a blood doll who helps the vampire survive without having to hurt innocent people. There are suspicious, shady characters galore. And a champion that may not be the hero everyone thinks. Oh, yeah - and the jealous girlfriend. That whole subplot was a riot and yet touching. I'm not used to seeing the type of relationship where a girl doesn't want her boyfriend to even have a male friend, she's so possessive. That was interesting.

There were a lot of side plots and I loved how they were all interconnected by the end of the book. I had no idea how things were going to turn out and kept turning pages, wondering what was going to happen next. This book had so much going on. We had a NOT-A-CULT, a special-ops kind of unit, monsters running amok, people shapeshifting before our eyes, explosions, assassins...even fraud. lol I mean, it was just such a fun romp and I can't wait for more. I will definitely be reading the second book and I cannot wait for it!

[lsd-astronaut]

write a fic sydger, please 😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏 I beg you, I implore you. I love your writings and i would like you to write sydger please ^_^

you shall get sydger bestie, tysm for liking my writings🥰🥰🥰

it’s the first time i write sydger🥺🥺🥺hope you like it

i also received your most recent ask and like idk if you want ANOTHER sydger fanfic but anyways i’ve already started this so yeah get two fanfics lmfao

Marriage Life

Pairing: Syd Barrett x Roger Waters

Disclaimer: let’s assume gay marriage and being gay overall wasn’t illegal in the 60s okay? okay.

The clock alarm went off, waking a disgruntled Roger up, who sleepily reached for the button that would make the blaring noise stop once and for all. Once silence filled the room again, Roger yawned and looked to the other side of his bed, not being surprised as he saw Syd holding on his waist for dear life. The younger man could sleep through a bomb exploding right besides him without even stirring.

Roger sighed and shook Syd a bit so he let go of him. The guitarist hummed in refusal and held on Roger even tighter. Now, he couldn’t have that. He really needed to go to the bathroom.

Shaking Syd a bit harder caused him to roll over and grab the blankets and cover himself with them, his mop of curls the only thing visible. All while asleep. Roger lifted his eyebrows in silent amazement but soon got up, put on his slippers and walked to the bathroom right at the end of the hallway.

After doing his business, Roger looked at himself in the mirror. He immediately brushed his neck with his fingertips, frowning at the purple marks littered all over it. Syd had gotten carried away again.

A noise behind him surprised him and he turned around. He looked at his husband stumbling in the bathroom, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The shorter man was too exhausted to notice Roger was right in front of him, bumping straight on his chest. The bassist chuckled as he saw the height gap between the two of them. It would never fail to surprise him just how short Syd truly was. Or maybe he was too tall.

Syd gave Roger a tired smile and went to hug him, his arms around Roger’s waist. The latter reciprocated, of course. He would never reject Syd’s affection; not even in his wildest dreams.

Right then, Syd moved his head up and pressed a kiss on Roger’s neck. Roger, however, pulled away a bit.

“Didn’t you have enough last night?”, he said with amusement in his voice.

Syd pouted and let go of him. “I thought you liked it when I bite you there,” he mumbled as he went to wash his face in the sink.

“Yeah, I love it, but not when we have to go to a studio session tomorrow. Look at this one! It looks like you punched me.”

“It will fade with time, Rog. Don’t fret too much about it.”

“Knowing you, you’ll just give me more tonight.”

At that moment, Syd looked up at the mirror. Roger noticed he his eyebrows were furrowed. Concerned, he touched his shoulder so he would turn around. When Syd’s eyes linked with his, he noticed the purple shadows under his brown eyes. Roger reached to touch Syd’s cheeks and rubbed them with his thumbs. The younger man closed his eyes and seemed to melt against his husband’s touch.

“Is it a bad day?”, Roger whispered.

At Syd’s nod, Roger frowned and pulled him into a hug. The younger man just let himself be hugged but didn’t hug back. He didn’t have the energy for that.

Roger helped Syd walk out the bathroom and go to the little living room where he sat in the couch.

“First of all, your antidepressants, Syd.” Roger took a pill out of the bottle and gave it to Syd before putting the bottle in a cabinet and locking it. They’d already had an incident where Syd’s depression got too much and he had overdosed on it. Thankfully, he had screamed for Roger who had come as fast as he could and called the ambulance immediately. That had been some years ago. The overwhelming pressure still weighed on Roger’s consciousness. What would have happened if he hadn’t been home? Would he have found his body unmoving on the floor?

Roger gulped and slammed the cabinet shut. Behind him, Syd swallowed the pill with the help of a glass of water. They both stayed in silence for what seemed eternity. The early morning rays of sun coming through the window and casting a cozy and warm light all over the living room snapped Roger back into reality.

“How about I make breakfast?”, Roger proposed.

Syd only nodded before standing up from the couch. Roger knew that was the last thing he wanted to do at that moment, but Syd’s depression had been way more manageable lately. At least, he acknowledged he couldn’t stay in bed all day, and just ignore his body needs like eating or drinking water.

As he watched Syd munch on the corner of one of his toasts with not much enthusiasm, Roger cleared his throat. When the younger man looked at him expectantly, Roger gave him a little smile.

“Did you know today is when we’ll get Frisky back from Rick’s house?”

Those words made their desired effect on Syd, as his eyes widened and visibly brightened. Roger really knew the best ways to cheer him up.

“But, first eat that. Then we can go.”

He had never seen Syd so happy as he rushed to finish his breakfast and rushed to get dressed.

Half an hour later, the two of them were sitting in Syd’s car. Roger was the one who drove it though. Syd didn’t even have a driving license. When Roger inquired him about the car, the guitarist just said it had been a purchase out of impulse.

Syd put on the radio and started tapping his hands on his legs like an excited kid. Roger was amazed at how much Syd loved his cat, Frisky. To be honest, that damn cat deserved a prize for making both of their lives easier by basically being Syd’s unofficial therapy animal.

When they reached Rick’s front door, Roger reached to touch the doorbell but was interrupted by Syd banging on the door.

“Rick, I want Frisky back!”, Syd shouted.

Roger went to stop Syd but the front door flew open, showing a Rick with disheveled hair.

“Can you two not make the neighbours think we’re bloody crazy?!”, the pianist said with a frantic voice. “Besides, isn’t it super early?”

“9am is not early-” Roger interrupted himself as he saw Syd trying to force his way into the appartment. “Syd, for the love of God, can’t you wait a second?”

“I want to see Frisky!”

Rick sighed and made space for Syd to come in. Roger came behind him and walked to the living room, accompanied by Rick. The two of them stopped in their tracks as they saw Syd sitting on the floor with Frisky on his lap. Syd was laughing as the cat rubbed his head on Syd’s chin. The older men smiled at the adorable scene, and let him be by himself for some minutes.

After saying goodbye to Rick, the couple went to the car again. Syd kept humming a little tune all the way home as he stroked Frisky’s head who happily purred as he nuzzled in Syd’s lap.

As Roger saw the glint of Syd’s wedding band on his right hand and his smile as he played with his, their, cat, he silently chuckled and looked forward again. They were going to be okay.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties - here is part 6! We are officially halfway through this fic! Part 6 sees friendships blossom, situationships struggle, and cheeky intercontinental facetime chats! I hope you all are enjoying it as much as i am! I love hearing from you after you've read it! Love always, Steph xx

Part 6 | parte sesta

warnings; a couple of tugs on the heartstrings (in both the best and worst ways)

word count; 2301

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 06/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Amelia had been back in Turin for a week or so, settling back into her city apartment had been more difficult than she anticipated as she was now alone for the first time in more than 2.5 months. It wasn’t very often, but sometimes she did miss the companionship of having a boyfriend. She missed someone to have breakfast with, to watch movies under the covers, to bring to official events. She still did all of these things, with a date, that was a friend, that sometimes maybe crept beyond the friendship zone and into the we shouldn’t be doing this but it feels so good zone.

Fede was someone that hung around Amelia like a fly to sugar. She enjoyed the attention most of the time. She appreciated his friendship, wisdom, talent and intellect. He could hold a conversation, talk to her about the arts, sell her the dream. She even didn’t mind it when they did cross that line a few times. Long afternoons and even longer nights spent wrapped up together in his bed sheets, her bathtub, his kitchen, her lounge room...you get the point. It was almost as though the two were in a committed relationship - committed being the operable word.

Fede wanted Amelia all to himself, and she was just that - available to him and for him whenever he wished, which was often. That’s what confused Amelia most, he didn’t want to label their situationship. He was happy to be ‘friends’ outside the four walls of their respective homes, but lovers when the curtains were drawn. She would maybe understand if he was elusive, always going out and on his phone but he wasn’t. He spent all of his time with her, there wouldn't have been enough hours left in the day if he separated those he spent with her from those he spent alone.

The Juventus players noticed this behaviour early on, seeing a noticeable difference in the way their number 33 paid attention to their tactical sessions. How he was turning up to the training centre early, with an extra piccolo for the english member of their coaching staff. Federico claimed he was helping Amelia brush up on her Italian, but having an Italian-born mother who insisted on sharing her culture with her kids, meant she was pretty much fluent in the language before arriving in Turin. His teammates weren’t stupid and neither was she.

This was the one area of her life where Amelia felt comfortable to go with the flow, she didn’t need to prepare or overthink anything to do with the charming Italian boy from Firenze. She let him take it at his own pace, she was in no need to rush. She let him take her home to meet his Nonna, she spent quality alone time with his dogs when he’s running late from training, and that’s a rare occasion being that it’s normally her there after him and he hangs back to drive them both home.

Everything was progressing at his pace, and the moment Amelia just asks for some clarification on the situation, he would get visibly stressed. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. And for a long time he could, he had Amelia's attention and affection at Juve, he even had it during their european campaign. At the end of the tournament, when they all broke up for their summer breaks, Fede conveniently waited until their final round in the shower, if you know what i mean, before pulling her into bed and having a heart to heart with her.

Amelia thought that she was finally getting the clarification that she was after, which in a way she did. Fede spoke whimsical words about how she makes him feel wanted and understood, and in turn he told her about the affects he knew he had on her. It was a conversation that would turn Shakespeare to a pile of rose petals. In the end, he told her that he wanted to continue what they had just how they had been doing it. And so, that's exactly how they left it. No labels. Friends outside of the four walls of their apartments. That was all Amelia needed to be able to enjoy her family holiday in Mykonos, guilt free, not missing the man that became the equivalent of her shadow.

The constant company she had in Mykonos compared to what she was experiencing in Turin made her more eager to return to work than she had previously. Of course, there are group chats and facetimes and phone calls throughout the days that kept her occupied, but she was missing the boys and her brother. Her friendship with Kyle was back to its old ways, memes being shared across the european continent, long phone calls to talk about their problems. Kyle knew all about the Fede x Amelia situation, Amelia having given him the sparknotes version over a wine filled zoom session one evening that same week. Their pre-seasons hadn’t gone back yet so they were able to indulge in a bit of vino, guilt free.

She was surprised about the constant contact, or lack thereof, that some of the boys had maintained with her. Ben Chilwell hadn’t once messaged or instagrammed the girl, despite being active in their group chats and liking her holiday pictures on instagram. He even made the rookie error of liking a picture so far down on her instagram, there was no way to explain his need for being there. She messaged him a couple times, assuming he just got busy with whatever he was doing, but there was radio silence on the other end.

A friendship she was surprised had blossomed so well, considering their flirtatious start to life, was with that of Jack Grealish and Tyrone Mings. There had been more facetimes than she could count between herself and the two villa boys. Whether it was Tyrone telling her about a book he had finished that he thought she would enjoy, or Jack asking her how to cook dinner, maybe even them both cooking dinner together - of course she had to have a later dinner to be able to do so, with the time difference and all...and there was no way Jack was going to be having dinner an hour early “athlete’s schedule an all tha ya’know” he would smirk down the camera, brummie accent on full display.

She met Tyrone through Jack, he facetimed the girl for outfit advice one night before going out with the tall defender and the pair hit it off. Both giving Jack the fashion advice he needed but didn’t want to hear (a Gucci two piece tracksuit set is never the answer). Tyrone immediately noticed a certain attention to detail being applied by his fellow number 10, to the tactics that were being put forward by the girl that was far too good at her job. His training was improving, his set pieces having a certain amount of flare. There was also a lack of attention being paid from Jack to other girls. Instead, much preferring to spend the evening at home watching the same netflix series as Amelia so that he could discuss it with her the next day, or better yet, at the same time.

As pre-season had commenced, Amelia had been applying the same tactics that she developed (and that obviously worked) throughout the European campaign to her Juventus club level. Having faith in the four men that were with her and the Azzurri to ensure that their other teammates were completing them accurately. It appears that her skill was widely recognised, having a few missed calls and voice messages left from English telephone numbers that she was yet to listen to. In all seriousness, she was nervous to listen to them. Worried that they would make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. A wise person once told her that you shouldn’t make any decisions whilst you're at the top of your happy, or the bottom of your sad. You should make important decisions when your life is at its constant. It's very easy to accept things that you wouldn’t normally when you're at the peak of your mood, just as easy as it is to forget the bigger picture when you're down. Who knew Kyle Walker was so wise.

“So, i’ve got a bit of a dilemma” She spoke down to her facetime camera one evening in early August.

“Hit me with it darlin’” Jack spoke back to her, getting his dinner utensils out so that they could cook together again. He didn’t like not being prepared for her tutorial, he got stressed if she added pepper and his pepper was still in his pantry. Each afternoon, when it was agreed upon what they would be cooking together that evening, she sent him a list of what he would need out on his bench to complete the meal.

“I’ve missed a few calls from English teleco numbers this last week or so”

“Ok? Do you think they’re scams? You’re beautiful Amelia but I don't think it's actually an Egyptian prince on the other end that wants to offer you 250k in exchange for your paypal info…”

“Ha ha very funny - that was one time ok and he wasn’t a Prince, he was claiming to be an investment banker and wanted to help me start up my portfolio-ANYWAY JACK I WAS 16! God just forget I even told you that story” Amelia barked down facetime, now pausing what she was doing to point at the British boy with her wooden spoon, the same way her mother would to her when she was being cheeky. All she was met with was boisterous laughter.

“Nah i’m only joking, continue with your story.”

“I began to listen to the start of one and it was a talent acquisition manager for one of the premier league clubs, offering me a job” Amelia said as she continued to stir her pasta. Tonight they were making penne arrabiata. She received no reply from the boy. Looking down to her camera to check the call was still active, she saw him looking at the camera with a serious expression.

“Are you going to tell me what the problem is before I start to get excited that you’re going to be living within driving distance from me? Oh god i’ve just realised - was it from Villa? You could be even closer than I imagined” Jack started to ramble, getting over excited with the prospect of being so close to the girl that he could physically hang out with her, instead of virtually.

“Jack calm down, I didn't listen long enough to find out what club he was from. I have 5 more just like it waiting in my inbox.”

“What's the problem then Mils?” Jack could see the girl had apprehension written all over her face.

“I’m just nervous that they're going to tell me everything I've always wanted to hear. That they’re going to make me an offer I can't refuse and I have to leave my life here.” Their pasta was ready to be dished up now, so the girl poured herself a glass of red wine and got herself comfy on her couch.

“Come on, play the messages and i’ll listen to them with you, be your voice of reason,” Jack offered the girl.

“I should probably call Tyrone, you’re just going to reject every club that isn’t Villa.” she laughed before switching facetime to her laptop, moving to the floor of her lounge room and resting her elbows on her coffee table. With the phone near the screen of her mac, she began to play the messages.

_____________________________________________________________

“Hi Amelia, Shaun here from Newcastle United-” “As if you’d waste your talents at Newcastle”

“Jack! That's horrible! At least i know i already look good in the black and white striped kit”

“No, not happening. Next”

“Amelia, Hope you don’t mind but I got your number off of one of my players who knows you. Long story short, we have a position here are Arsenal” “Bloody Bukayo, needs to keep his silky mitts off ya”

“Jack, give it a rest or i’m calling Tyrone”

“Amelia White, Greg here from Aston Villa Football Club” “Get in Greggles!! That's it, stop listening, you’re taking this one”

“I need to listen to them all Jack”

“So, you’ll consider Villa?”

“I’ll consider all of them”

“You’d really go to Arsenal? Aren’t you a Spurs supporter? Shocking stuff”

“Ok maybe not all of them”

“Ciao Amelia, Mario here from Chelsea Football Club - I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. We could really use you here at Chelsea next season. Give me a call when you get a spare moment to discuss the opportunity”

“What? Nothing to say to this one, Jack?”

“Nah, sounds ok. You deserve to showcase your skills at a big club like Chelsea. And besides, you’ll have Jorginho there to look after you. Come on, next one”

“It’s the last one actually”

“Amelia, we’ve got a fantastic opportunity here at Manchester City for someone with your skill set. It would be a massive advantage to have your tactical insight to the game coupled alongside the fantastic leadership we’ve already got at the club”. “Holy shit, Pep called you himself? Kyle Walker really knows how to pull strings when he wants something”

“I am overwhelmed”

“Hey, you don’t need to make any decisions right now. Sleep on it, talk it over with your family. Speak to Jorgi, I know you’re close with him. And just let me know when you decide to pick Villa so i can start house huntin’ for ya”

“Night Jack, speak soon”

“Sleep tight darlin’, speak to ya tomorrow”

Part 7. | settima parte

[animebookworm16]

Who Are You? - Angst

For @j3ssisam3ss

This is my angst piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25 Childhood Friends

It was the middle of winter in Gotham when she showed up. A tiny girl everyone guessed to be about three. She never spoke or made a sound, but she often smiled, even on the coldest nights. The little girl would just curl up to whoever had taken her that day and smile. At first the other homeless believed she'd never make it to spring. But the little girl was full of surprises. Not only did she survive the worst of the winter, she thrived once spring arrived.

Everyone knew she had a name, no one knew what it was, but they knew she had one. They also knew she was old enough to know it. Surprisingly, no one ever tried to give her a new name. Sure she got nicknames. More nicknames than a toddler could ever hope to keep track of, but somehow she did.

The little girl grew. As all children must. And the older children and adults always made sure to enunciate whenever she was in the area, hoping to teach her how to speak. They all banded together, like they always do for the especially young kids, and kept her away from the worst of the drugs, gangs, rogues, and the overall darkest parts of Gotham.  She grew, and most people started calling her Pixie. Their little fairy caused laughter and mischief wherever she went. Even still she rarely spoke, her words as few and far between as they were, were always impactful to whoever she spoke to.

When Jason Todd started living on the street, everything changed. Pixie stuck to his side like glue. She laughed, she started talking, Pixie acted like the entire five years she had been living around Gotham she had been solely waiting for Jason to show up. The ones who raised her would have felt jilted if it hadn't been for how happy the little girl looked. Two years passed and the two ten-year-olds rarely left each other's sides.

Then Jason stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile and Pixie was finally picked up by CPS.

Pixie had to be strapped down by CPS so that she wouldn't hurt anyone. Luckily for her, a young French couple had been passing by when they saw what they were doing, and demanded to adopt the young girl. CPS didn't want to deal with the girl for much longer and agreed. When Tom and Sabine found out she didn't have a name, they quickly named her Marinette Dupain-Cheng and decided her birthday would be the same day they adopted her. 

The newly named Marinette was quickly taken out of Gotham and out of the country as the couple returned to Paris.

She never knew that Jason had been adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Jason was picked up by Batman and quickly adopted by Bruce Wayne. Before long he had taken up the mantle of Robin and was fighting crime.  He looked everywhere for his friend but no matter who or where he asked, no one had any idea. As the months passed, Jason lost hope for ever finding Pixie again.

He would never know that she had been picked up by CPS and adopted by a Parisian couple and taken back to Paris.

In Paris, Marinette always appeared happy, and her new parents were always busy but tried to make time for her. Marinette had taken to wandering Paris. She wanted to be familiar with her new city, even if Tom and Sabine didn't always agree with her new habit.

When she started school, Marinette stayed quiet. Friendly, but quiet. This made her a prime target for the mayor's spoiled daughter Chloe. Marinette allowed it to happen and did nothing to change the status quo. three years passed in this way until suddenly Marinette was seated next to an extremely outspoken girl named Alya, who would absolutely not stand for the status quo, so Marinette filled that space, doing what she'd always done since she'd come to Paris molded herself into what everyone around her wanted. The same day she met her new deskmate, and self-proclaimed bestie, Marinette also became one of the two heroes of Paris, fighting an emotional terrorist who thrived on negative emotions (and just being from Gotham made her a prime target). Marinette became Dame Nuit, with her partner Mister Bug.

She listened to everything Plagg told her, especially the warnings and consequences of using the Black Cat Miraculous.

For the next four years, Marinette would fill every mold she was placed in. The hero, the Guardian, the class president, the perfect baker's daughter, everything. 

Then the consequences started showing up. Marinette knew she had to wrap up Hawk Moth and Mayura quickly. She started pushing it so much that Mister Bug called her out one night and in a single moment of weakness she told him what was happening. What her Miraculous was doing to her.

Mister Bug immediately wanted her to stop and let him give the Miraculous to someone else, but Dame Nuit shut it down saying that even if she stopped now, the damage was done and nothing would change that. In fact, using the Miraculous, while it had started the process, was actually slowing it down. Mister Bug cried when she told him that.

Together they redoubled their efforts to bring Hawk Moth and Mayura down. Of course, Mister Bug insisted on bringing in more permanent heroes, under the guise of keeping one of the two things Hawk Moth was after out of the fight. Dame Nuit then argued that it should be the Ladybug because it's the one that can fix everything which just left them going in circles. But even still she conceded to his request for more backup.

Within six months, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur had been stripped of their Miraculous and Paris was free to feel their emotions once more. All the Miraculous were returned and Marinette and Adrien revealed their identities to each other.

Adrien stuck to Marinette's side and became an unofficial brother. He helped her as the build-up of chaos in her soul took a physical manifestation, and began to destroy her 

A year after Hawk Moth's defeat Marinette's entire class was granted a trip to Gotham City.

Marinette would have laughed at the irony if she didn't know it would probably be the last place she saw. It was strangely comforting to know that the city that held her most precious memories would also be the place that would hold her last.

In Gotham, Jason grew into a young man. He discovered the woman he thought was his mother wasn't. He tracked down his real mother, then got beaten half to death by the Joker only to be blown up by one of Joker's bombs.

Jason died.

Then Jason was revived by the Lazarus Pits and trained by the League of Shadows. He grew to hate Batman and wanted nothing more than to see the end of the Joker. 

Years later, Jason would return to Gotham only to find he had been replaced and that the Joker was still running free, and alive. Jason tried to kill the new Robin, a kid named Tim Drake, Batman, and the Joker. He managed to end none of them.

Bruce convinced Jason to stick around and one thing led to another and Redhood became part of the Batfamily patrol rotation. He doesn't stay in the manor but he does drop in at least once a month for family dinners at Alfred's request. On the weekends, Jason would take Tim out and teach him how to spot a sniper, an assassin, what different guns look like when someone is trying to hide them, and most importantly, how to defuse a bomb. It becomes a bonding time for the two, but Jason still calls Tim 'Replacement' but now as a term of endearment.

He never forgets Pixie and she is one of the few things that kept him sane during the worst of the Pit Madness.

Then Damian shows up and Jason has no idea how to deal with the tiny Demon Spawn. It's rough going for a while but they all found their ways of bonding and before long they are one large dysfunctional family. 

When Jason turned eighteen, he, Dick, Tim, and Damian welcomed a French class to Wayne Industries for a week-long tour. And that is where he thought he saw someone he would never see again.

Without his permission, Jason called out to her, "Pixie?" It was barely a whisper, but she heard it.

Her head whipped around and she stared at him, "Jason?"

He wanted to say it was a happy reunion. And it kind of was. They hugged. Her class and his brothers stared. Then the tears started. Pixie was smiling but tears were streaming down her face.

One of the other students came over and asked her in French if she was okay. Pixie shook her head and the blond boy asked if there was somewhere she could rest. Jason offered to show them a room. The three of them sat in a quiet room as Pixie cried. She kept leaning into Jason and he wasn't about to stop her. After who knows how long, Pixie dried her eyes and haltingly told Jason what was going on. She told him, how she'd been adopted and went by Marinette now. How she was dying and no one besides Adrien, the blond, knew. How she probably wouldn't make it out of Gotham.

Jason's first reaction was to want to hurt something. His second was to hold Pixie as close as he could and never let her go. Jason cried. 

For the rest of the week everywhere that Pixie went, Jason was close behind. The other Waynes noticed and on the fourth day of their stay, invited Pixie and Adrien to join them for dinner.

There, a not-so-subtle interrogation went down, asking Pixie how she knew Jason. At which point, even Pixie's failing health allowed her to spill so many childhood stories about Jason that even they couldn't resist her knowledge. In return, Jason told Adrien stories he had collected about her as a toddler and little kid. It was the brightest smile Adrien had ever seen on Marinette, and the first real smile Pixie had given Jason all week. He could almost pretend that she wasn't dying.

After dinner Pixie said, "Jason, did I ever tell you about the dream I've had ever since I was a little girl?"

"What dream Pix?"

"I've always wanted to stand at the very top of the Wayne Industries building at dawn, and feel the wind at the top of the world."

"Really?"

Pixie smiled a soft sad smile, "Yeah. Do you think we could do that tomorrow?"

Jason suddenly realized what Pixie was talking about, and had to fight a lump in his throat to answer, "Yeah. Pix. Yeah, we can do that."

Adrien and Pixie stayed the night that night. That morning at about three, Jason woke them up and took them to the top of Wayne Industries. Pixie stood as high up as she possibly could. Adrien and Jason watched her with tears in their eyes. Before long, they were joined by Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin, who all wanted to make sure she wouldn't fall. Jason didn't have the heart to tell them they couldn't stop what was about to happen.

As dawn started to creep up on them, Adrien broke down sobbing, begging Marinette to fight a little longer. When the light hit her head, Marinette closed her eyes and smiled. They all saw her start to fade.

Her hands went first. Like dust. As the light increased so did her fading. Before she faded completely, Pixie walked towards them a peaceful smile on her face. Jason was crying now too. His Pixie looked like a ghost.

And as she faded completely, everyone on that roof heard her say, "My name is Jeanette. It's so nice to meet you!"

[khaleesiofalicante]

Ok imma be honest, this chapter moved me to tears and not the sad sobbing but the more inspiring kind. This chapter means the world.

She had told them her dreams were about ducks – since there were the only equally horrible thing she could think of.

Uncle Magnus had given her an odd look then, as if he knew she was bullshitting them. But he hadn’t said anything.

DUCKS AREN'T THAT BAD! HAVE Y'ALL EVER BEEN CHASED BY A GOAT?? I WAS CONVINCED I WAS GONNA DIE

Lexi would be royally pissed if this turned out to be some stupid pointless dream.

YUP

Even though she was only 7 minutes older than Lexi, Selena always acted like she was 7 years older.

That's so cute though

People looked at her pastel-coloured aesthetic immediately assumed she was the soft and sweet Fairchild twin. People saw Selena in her red leather jacket and thigh high boots and assumed she was in the infamous troublesome Herondale twin.

SMH THE DAMN STEREOTYPES

Why Selena hadn’t killed her in her sleep yet, Lexi doesn’t know.

BYE THAT'S EVERY SIBLING RELATIONSHIP EVER

The meals at the Academy were to die for – quite literally. Last week two students from the warlock fraction had almost killed each other over a blueberry muffin.

Oh how times change...they will never know the dreaded soup

NO ANJALI HAS BEEN GONE FOR OVER A YEAR???

IS JAIME OK?? PLEASE BE OK! HE CAN LIVE WITH TREATMENT SO I REALLY HOPE HE'S OK

Selena’s was Idris of course. She was kind of obsessed with it.

Max loved the shadow markets. Lexi thought they were very cool too.

Rafael loved his father’s office – which was weird. There was nothing to do in that room other than ponder about shadow world problems. Besides, the place still weirdly smelled like the tangerine perfume Anjali wore, even though the girl had left New York almost a year ago.

David loved the New York Institute – especially the library.

Gigi of course loved the dining halls.

Dining halls, kitchens, food trucks, vending machines - if a place had food with it, Gigi loved it.

It's so amazing how they all have their favorite places...(same David same)

“You’re supposed to pour the syrup on the pancakes not into your mouth,” Lexi chuckled as she sat down next to her.

“It ends up in my mouth anyway,” Gigi shrugged.

True enough.

AWW ROMAN MAKING GIGI PLAYLISTS!!

Someone make me a playlist.

“His parents fell in love in Rome when they were in Rome,” Gigi pointed out even though Lexi already knew. “I think it’s actually romantic.”

I had forgotten that-

Roman was nice. But not nice enough for Georgia. Lexi didn’t think there was anyone good enough for her parabatai – who was the most perfect person in the world.

Me @ anyone who tries to make a move at my best friend.

AWW GEORGIA LIKES HIM TOO!!

When's the wedding?

(you're telling me you didn't believe you were gonna marry your childhood crush? Liar)

“I like being his friend,” Georgia said. “I like spending time with him and all of that. But I don’t know if I like him…in that way. I feel like I need more time.”

Demiromantic??? YES GIVE US THE REP

Lexi sometimes thought life would be so much simpler if the world was full of women and everyone was a lesbian.

Ikr?? Life would be so much easier.

Lexi says Roman is too-nice-sus

Well well well

The kind of love that cheated death.

The kind of love that sustained memory spells put by princes of hell.

The kind of love that changed the world.

Trust me all of our standards are very high

Lexi successfully survived the class without falling asleep.

Me during English.

Ok who's the blond?

Lexi I thought we weren't gonna fall this soon-

Oh the girl's straight...sigh we've all been there.

which meant they had to hold hands. Kinda.

Lexi was a little scared of that.

Me.

Goddamnit, Alexandra. Get your gay together!

THAT'S SO RELATABLE LIKE?? YES

OH MY GOD IT'S EMMA AND JULIAN'S DAUGHTER GEIDIDHDOHDJSKSJSKGXJDHSODHKDGDDGDJHDJDGDJDGJDHD

Lexi knew Olivia liked boys. She hadn’t dated anyone officially of course. All the boys were kind of terrified of her father.

She could be bi or pan or omni. WE GOTTA HAVE HOPE

vegetable loaf... David I'm so sorry you had to go through this.

Lexi then decided not to do any of her homework over the weekend because she was not coming back to the academy. She was not going to survive the sleepover and whatever else Olivia had in mind.

Bestie...why is this me when I make eye contact with my crush.

“Good stuff?” Max snorted. “Rafe literally ran away from home cause shit got too intense.”

“I didn’t run away!” Rafael rolled his eyes. “Stop telling people that!”

“But you have rumours and shadowhunters getting thrown into silent city and cohort drama and all that exciting stuff!” Liv pointed out.

I-

Liv-

True though.

“Wasn’t there a serial killer when your parents were young?” David asked.

“And didn’t your uncle do necromancy?” Max said biting into a chicken wing.

True and true

“Sorry, Chouchou!” Lexi winced. “I, uh, sensed a mosquitoe on your leg.”

“Girl, your angel powers are weird as fuck,” Max laughed.

MAX LANGUAGE

“I don’t know,” the girl shrugged and threw her a wink. “I wouldn’t put anything past Lexi.”

Lexi looked at Gigi. She was one more compliment away from screaming.

But Gigi of course knew her struggle and therefore quickly stuffed a bread roll into Lexi’s mouth.

I need someone to stuff bread into my mouth when things get like this

There were rumours about David – and how Daddy had an affair. Lexi was yet to find those asshats and shove a witch light down their throats.

When you find them lemme know too.

“Or maybe it’s because you don’t need rumours be interesting,” David pointed out.

Max turned around, looking surprised at that. His cheeks turned purple. Lexi didn’t know why he was surprised. David only ever spoke fondly of Max.

JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY OH MY GOD

“Oh. Oh! I did hear something a long time ago!” Gigi said suddenly. “Olly, is it true you were conceived at the beach?”

“Georgia, you can’t just ask people where they were conceived!” David sounded horrified.

That is very much possible.

“I heard you were conceived in hell?”

“Oh my god,” Selena looked horrified. “That’s not true! It must have been about Max!”

“Y’all I am adopted!” Max was shaking with laughter and then stopped. “Although our dads could have definitely had sex in hell. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Oh yes. Both clace and malec.

Then they had of course continued to discuss that cursed topic until Rafael had threatened to tell the Consul about it.

LMAO

Lexi turned around and saw Liv waiting for her. Nope. She wasn’t going to talk a walk – a fucking stroll! – with Olivia all on her own.

“You are coming back to the institute with me or I will un-parabatai you.”

You know there being an un-parabatai ceremony would solve a lot of shit

What if their hands accidentally grazed or something? That shit was lethal.

RIGHT????

She is just trying to be nice. That’s what friends do. They are nice. And they give each other pretty dresses and say they would like to see them in it.

Honey that's gay.

EVERYONE ASKING HER OUT IM DEAD

Selena: Ugh boys

Selena: When I win back Idris, we are leaving all the men behind.

Lexi: Except Magnus? Lol.

Selena: Obviously.

Is that even a question Lexi? Duh.

ALEC LIGHTWOOD THOUGHT SHE WAS STRAIGHT? THE SHAME!

OH MY GOD IM CACKLING

Not everyone can kiss their partner in the Accords Hall. Some people didn’t have access to the Accords Hall.

And most important, some people didn’t have partners!

We're getting a lexi and Alec talk someone hold me

“I’m going to tell you something,” Uncle Alec said. “It might sound simple. It might sound ridiculous. But it’s the truth. So, you must believe me. Can you do that?”

Lexi gave him a small nod.

“It doesn’t matter what other people think,” Uncle Alec said. “Not when it comes to your future. Not when it comes to your identity. They don’t get to have a say in who you are and why you are the way you are.”

Lexi bit her lip.

“Alexandra, people will always tell what to do. But you shouldn’t let them. Never let anyone tell you what to do with your heart or your body. Neither belongs them. It only belongs to you.”

THIS RIGHT HERE MADE ME START CRYING BECAUSE DAMN YES!

“Yep,” she groaned and then hesitated for a moment. “Uncle Alec…Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Can I say no?”

“No.”

“Then go ahead.”

I love her so much

“I feel…I feel it’s something we have to bear, Alexandra. The fear of rejection. It’s something we have to accept as an inevitable part of our lives. Because no matter how much love we have around us, we will always be afraid of people not loving us – simply because of who we are.”

Yeah...

“Besides, they named you after me,” he pointed out. “I don’t know what else they expected.”

EXACTLY! Did they really expect a straight child after naming them after Alec?

“I do like shouting,” Lexi wondered out loud. “That’s good advice.”

“I didn’t mean it literally!” Uncle Alec looked alarmed.

“No, it makes total sense!” Lexi grinned. “Some of these people can be tone deaf. Gotta shout it out. Loud and clear. Awesome advice! Thanks, Uncle Alec!”

DO IT

“Hey, Lexi. I was wonderin-”

“MOVE, I’M GAY!” she yelled as she shoved him aside and kept on running.

ABSOLUTELY ICONIC

“I prefer she/her,” Lexi answered. "But sometimes I prefer she/they. But you can use she/her because some of y'all already shit at grammar."

That's exactly what I tell people when they ask for my pronouns. Istg people are shit at grammar.

alright girl im here to give you a lecture on how someone's dressing doesn't describe their sexuality

OH MY MY GOD THERE WAS A GENDER AND SEXUALITY CLASS IN THE ACADEMY ARE THEY RECRUITING???

One of the boys who had complimented cleared his throat. “So, uh, you don’t like boys?”

“That’s literally what I said,” Lexi rolled her eyes. “I’m gay. I’m very gay. I’m gayer than the Consul. Okay fine, that’s not true. No one gayer than the Consul. But I’m still pretty gay.”

Does the boy have hearing problems?

ALSO YES NO ONE'S GAYER THAN THE CONSUL

“Sexual orientation and gender expression are two different things,” she explained now, remember what Uncle Magnus had taught them. “Sexual orientation refers to who I am sexually and romantically attracted to. Gender expression is how I want to express my gender identity. Those two are not connected. Just because a woman wears feminine clothes it doesn’t mean she is straight. Just because a man embraces femininity, it doesn’t make him gay either. Does that make sense?”

“Ohhh,” the girl nodded. “Yes, it does. Thank you!”

“What I wear does not reflect who I like. It reflects who I am and what I like to wear,” Lexi explained. “And regardless of my sexuality, I like pretty things.”

Exactly.

“This doesn’t change anything. I hope you know that,” he told her. “I mean I have to change the pronouns in my shovel talk. But that’s not a big deal.”

Awwww

Also – my good friend Raziel told me that homophobia is a sin.”

“You mean homosexuality is a sin?” an older man asked.

“No, homophobia is a sin,” Lexi repeated. “That’s what Raziel said.”

“But that’s not-”

Someone cleared their throat. When he spoke, it was in the Consul Voice.

“Are you saying know better than Raziel?” the Consul asked.

Listen to Raziel you dumb shit

“Sure. Let me just call the Lesbian Alliance,” Lexi rolled her eyes.

Ugh I wish

OH NO NO NO NOT THE FAKE DATING. JUST CONFESS AND DATE FOR REAL

“Alexandra, I have a fucking undercut and I have pink highlights and I cuff my jeans and I literally walk around with a sword and I can quote Lady Gaga to perfection! Why would you ever think I was straight??”

Lexi your gaydar is broken bestie.

Don't do this omg this is gonna be a mess

Gigi: THIS IS A BAD IDEA. ABORT! ABORT!

Lexi: Relaaaax. It’s going to be fine!

Gigi: I’ve read enough fanfiction to know the fake dating trope never ends well!

Lexi: I’ve told you to include the ‘angst with happy ending’ tag!

LMAO

Also Gigi which fanfiction do you read?

Jace omg...

That's so him though.

“How about my peeps? It sounds very hip.”

“It does not,” Lexi replied. “Please don’t refer to us as your peeps under any circumstance."

IM SCREAMING ASHSKHSIDBSHSHDH

Her father chuckled at that. “Sweetheart, you’re a Herondale. Being problematic is what we do.”

EXACTLY

Daddy opened the notebook again. “I need names.”

Grabs flamethrower names

“Besides, the Lightwoods and Blackthorns have been hogging the gay genes for too long. Now it’s our turn. I say you gay it up.”

“Gay it up?” Lexi laughed.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Go for the highest possible level of gay.”

DO IT

He blinked for a second and then it hit him. “OH MY GOD YES! DOES EMMA KNOW??”

Lexi laughed. Yeah, he can never find out it was a fake dating situation.

Hopefully he won't have to because it won't be fake :D

“To love is a privilege and to be loved is a blessing.”

THE GROWTH OH MY GOD

This chapter literally means so much to me. I don't even know what to say. I hope I too can one day have the courage to shout it in front of everyone and not be scared. See ya on Tuesday!

It means so much to me that this chapter meant a lot to you. I hope you find all the courage, strength and support you need. You are amazing.

And here. I made you a playlist.

You can find it here on YouTube. I hope you like it :)

[sapphicdt]

Just Like You Used To

hihi i usually hate sad fics because i personally read fics for comfort but i wrote this out of impulse and because i needed  a good cliche Snape x Reader thingy to cry to so i apologize if this comes out as too cringey and wattpad-y. this was quite poorly written but i still hope you like it.

(italics for the flashbacks :) )

warnings: angst, minor typos

word count: 1.8k

The musky earth smell of the dungeons hit your nose like the perfume of an older lady when she went in to hug you.

You had not been here since the end of the war, and neither did anyone else. Minerva had not gone down there either. You had seen how the usually composed professor’s demeanor would shift behind her eyes into a raging sea, whenever she would be indirectly reminded of him. 

It was funny how life worked; one moment, you were helping him clean the cauldrons in his classroom, and the next you were to sweep off the dust from his abandoned office.

“Miss L/N, you are going to freeze your ears off if you do not get back in here” he said to you as you were walking around in the snow without your coat, prancing about in the cold like a child on Christmas morning. “Sorry, professor. It was too beautiful out to miss.” you responded meekly. He rolled his eyes. “Silly girl” he said, and ushered you back in.

As the both of you walked side by side, the silence was broken when he asked “How was your day?’. He said it very quietly, like asking such a question was humiliating, and that it would destroy his usually stoic bearing. You sighed and said “It was alright. But it did snow so it got better. What about you, professor?”. He stayed quiet for a while before responding with a little grunt of an “It was okay”. You giggled in response.

He walked you back to your dorm, not saying anything else.

Time flew and you had started spending more time with the professor. According to you, it was because “He was your new bestie”. He would roll his eyes whenever you would jokingly refer to him as that whenever your friends would ask why you hung around him so much.

It was true; you did see him as a friend, and although you wished to yell out to the world how much you would do for this man, you did not want to get slapped in the face by rejection and humiliation. After all, his doors were closed, and heart belonged to the late mother of The Boy Who Lived. Everyone knew this.

On one of your visits to his office, you were both sitting in silence, doing your own things, before you said “Professor, If I’m going to be honest, I would just like to say that I am going to miss you.”. “What do you mean, Miss L/N?” he responded. “I am graduating soon, and I’m just going to miss going to your office, studying here with you in arms reach, having class with you, having you as my teacher, and just-” somehow, the oxygen in the room has disappeared, and you found it hard to usher out what you were going to say next. “Seeing you everyday” you finally breathed out. You expected a him to throw a fit, to slap you, yell at you about how this was highly inappropriate and that he did not want to see you ever again, for him to spit at you for how stupid you were. But none of that came; everything but all of that. He was quiet for a moment, as he was every time you said something inherently nice. But then he said “I’m afraid I will miss your company too, Y/N”. You had the smile of an idiot plastered on your face for the rest of the afternoon.

Months flew by, and it was April, you had seen him again on his way back from his meetings, and wanted to tell him something for you had not been able to talk to him at all ever since the war started. He seemed so tired and somehow even more irritable and angrier than he had been before, so you left him alone. But today, you decided that it would be worth a shot to try and reconnect, so you walked up to him and said “Hello, professor.”. He looked at you and if you looked with a telescope, you could see his gaze softened, but only behind his eyes. Because that made fucking sense. “Good afternoon, Miss L/N. Is there anything I can help you with?” he responded. “No, professor. I just wanted to see how you were doing. After all, we haven’t talked in a long while.” you replied, a bit more blunt than you had intended, and you feared he was going to do something that would make you regret it after. But he did not. “Would you like to come to my office, just like before? We can talk there.” he said. You smiled sadly, and walked with him to his office.

He sat you down, and gave you a cup of tea, and made sure you were comfortable. Like he used to. “Now, how are you, Y/N?”. You had not known how much this man meant to you until this very moment. You could not hold anything back anymore. You burst into a sobbing mess, hiccuping trying to drink the tea. You could not pinpoint exactly why you were crying so much, but you just were. 

He was taken aback for a moment. He had seen many students cry at Hogwarts, especially after having been scolded by him, but this was different; you were in his office, and he just asked you a simple question. Not knowing what to do, he hesitantly patted your shoulder. He was not used to comforting people when they were sad. But although he had done it to you in many unconscious and indirect ways in the past when you were silently having a bad day, he just was not used to actively doing it. Your sobs ceased a bit and he asked you “Y/N, where is this coming from? What happened?”. You sniffed and hiccuped a bit before blatantly saying “I just miss you, professor, is all.”. He did not know what to say to say to this, and was still quite startled, then you cut his thoughts off when you said “I just wish all of this would end even just before I graduate so I could spend my last few afternoons in Hogwarts here in your office, like I had originally planned.”. “It will end soon, Y/N” he said and fiddled with his tea cup, and hesitantly pulled you into a hug. This somehow made you want to cry even more, and the next words that came out of your mouth were so unexpected, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “I think I love you, professor.”. He pulled away and lifted up your chin to look in your eyes. You felt him in your head, but you were too tired and sad to push him out, so you just let him search. After what seemed like an eternity, you felt your mind left alone again and he just moved his hands down your shoulder. With a sigh, he then said “I think you ought to be heading back to your dorm, Miss. I do have somewhere to go to.”. You stood up and wiped the snot off of your face, and headed out the door. Before you closed it, you said to him “I hope to come here again soon, professor.” and you left his office, and walked back to your dorm.

You stood in front of the wooden door of his office, tears now pouring freely down your cheeks. You knocked and you were wishing in the back of your head that you would hear him call you in, or see the shadow of his feet when he went to open the door, or see him  towering over you with his usual stoic demeanor, or with those beautiful onyx eyes you came to love, looking back at you. 

You felt silly, and touched the handle of the door, before pushing it open. You stepped in, and everything was left as it was the last time you came here; his half filled ink jar, half graded exams, half filled bottle of whiskey. But if there was anything about this man that was not halved, would be his passion. Oh Lord did this hurt.

It was like he knew his office would be returned to, just not by him.

You had been standing in the middle of the room for quite longer than you intended, so you snapped out of it and walked to his desk. You felt the wooden frame as you came across an unclosed envelope. “To whom this may concern” was all the back had read, You opened it and read through it. 

It was addressed to you. He was apologizing for not giving you a proper answer for what you said the last time you visited him. He was sorry for all the times he brushed you off before, during all the times you wanted to talk to him. All of that said, you were still able to use whatever was left of your composure. Then came the end of the letter

“......I am sorry it had to end this way. And I am so sorry for leaving you like this. Please don’t weep for me. I do not want to see you crying like that.

But although I am gone, I hope you think about me when you see a sparrow flying across the dusk of winter, when you smell the faint waft of parchment, or even hear the dripping down here in the dungeons. I too wish you could still sit with me here in my office while you read, just like you used to.

Nothing I say can satisfy you now, but what you said that April afternoon was not something I expected. I will admit that. But rest assured my dear, that I will not allow you to live the rest of your life not being reciprocated what you said.

So with the little time I have left of writing this, I hope you know that I love you very, very much.

Yours,

Professor Snape.”

Your chest was aching and your sobs were now very vocal. Through broken breaths and shaky legs, you stood up from the squatting position you were in and sat down on his chair. 

Time had passed, and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep in his office. You looked at the grandfather clock at the corner of the room and you had fallen asleep for quite a long time because what used to be noon, was now 3 in the afternoon.

You took the letter from his desk and walked out of his office, back to your dorm. 

You would rather anything else than to have lost him like this, or in any way at all. You wished everything was a dream and you could go back to the days where everything was happy. But this was the reality, he was dead and was never coming back.

It was now evening and dinner was over, but you did not go to eat. You stayed in your room and slept, too tired from crying, and from everything else in general. You reached to your nightstand and read the letter again, tracing over the print of the last sentence. And somehow, those words brought you great comfort, just like he used to.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 13 - Sketch/Ache

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, so close yet so far, 3k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

October already? Looking at the work schedule posted on the wall, Willie ran a hand through his hair. The time really was just passing him by, huh? Another day over, he grabbed his skateboard and strapped on his helmet.

“Hey, Willie?” His manager, Kyle, called after him before he got through the back door.

“Yeah, man?” Willie turned to answer him.

“This Saturday we need some extra hands while we’ve got a group performing. Could you be there?”

“Totally, man,” he said, smiling with assurance before heading out into the street. Los Angeles was fresher than Vegas, at least for him. He loved the breeze from the ocean that swept in every evening and being near the water in general. There was so much more to do, as well, and he didn’t think he’d ever exhaust that list. Just the number of places to skate was constantly growing, without mentioning the rest. Of course, he had been hoping to do some of them with Alex by now, but that was easier said than done. Sunset Curve didn’t seem to be doing too many shows at the moment, and that was all he really had to track him with.

Stopping at an antiquated apartment building, he headed down a stairway into the basement and burst through the door.

“Guess who’s home!” he cried. Sheldon came pattering over with his ever-cheerful prrrp and rubbed against his leg. Kneeling to pet him, Willie chuckled. “Aww, I’m happy to see you, too.”

He immediately went over to the cat’s bowl and poured some food in, listening to Sheldon purr loudly as he ate his dinner. Willie grabbed some food for himself to snack on as he sat at his desk and looked at the unfinished drawing that had been left there early that morning. He’d begun covering his walls in sketches again, and this time he didn’t have to be afraid of everything being torn away. In fact, Willie couldn’t even believe he had convinced himself that his life was fine when staying with Caleb.

Things had changed entirely. Since his brief adventure out in the desert, Willie was fully independent. He owed most of it to Bessie, still, and he thought of that woman every day. She hadn’t left him any way to contact her, otherwise he’d want to send her a thank you card at least once a week. It even overshadowed the fact that he’d actually ridden in a plane with Harrison Ford.

Willie remembered how incredibly short the flight had been in comparison to the rest of his journey. Bessie had donated an old cat carrier that they strapped into the cabin for Sheldon while Willie joined Harrison in the cockpit. It was nothing like watching the man fly the Millenium Falcon, except that it felt like they had gone into lightspeed and landed not too long after taking off. 

“You should be proud,” Harrison had told him. “You didn’t get sick.”

It had taken Willie until after they landed at the Santa Monica Airport to realize that he’d hardly spoken a word because he kept looking at him in pure shock at the reality of the man. His embarrassment must have appeared obvious, because Harrison Ford leaned down to look him in the eye.

“I’ve seen it a million times, don’t worry about it.” There was something sage about the resting expression on his face.

Chuckling in a flustered manner, Willie tried to think of the best way to thank him.

“Well, that was...that was really amazing, Mr., um...Mr. Ford. Thank you.”

The old actor smirked a little. Willie had seen a handful of actors come through the diner in Vegas before (at least, he’d been told they were famous, since he didn’t recognize most of them), and none of them were nearly as friendly.

“Willie, right?” Harrison had asked. It was enough to get him starstruck all over again, but he managed to nod. “Well, since I’ll never see you again, I’ll give you some advice.”

Willie listened intently.

“If you believe something is worth it, don’t quit. From what I already know about you, it doesn’t look like you do, so I have an extra piece of advice for you: planning and preparation is everything.”

Thinking back to when Bessie had scolded him about not riding the bus, Willie cowered inwardly. He couldn’t imagine how stupid he had sounded then.

“Do you know where you’re headed, kid? I can call a cab to take you anywhere you need.”

“How come you’re so nice?” Willie blurted. He hadn’t meant to.

Harrison Ford bowed his head, still smirking, and looked back up.

“I was twice your age before I really got anywhere. Now I’m just an old man who still does the job. Doesn’t mean I’m always nice, but sometimes….” He shrugged and gave him a wink.

Nodding, Willie had thanked him again. Harrison Ford held out a hand, which he shook with great enthusiasm before accepting the offer for the cab and saying goodbye. When he’d asked to go to the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the cab driver had looked at him in confusion.

“You do?” the guy asked. Seeing the definitive nod from Willie in the back seat, he just looked resigned. “Okay.”

Shortly after being dropped off, Willie had realized why the cab driver had responded that way. Standing before Grauman’s Chinese Theater, the street was just another place covered in gum, surrounded by people dressed as other celebrities. He saw other people taking pictures with them, and saw that the ones all dressed up were being paid. Some young woman dressed as Marilyn Monroe was doing her best to catch his interest with a flirty pose and a wink. Awkwardly smiling, Willie turned away and went to explore that area of the city. It was a good thing he hadn’t owned a camera then.

Now, he had decided to get a cheap one, just to capture anything he found interesting when he saw it. He’d accumulated a handful of things in the past few months: the basement apartment, a mattress, his writing desk and chair, and his job at the record-store-slash-cafe, among other things. The fridge had already been in the room, which was a nice perk. It was cool enough that the owner of the building had been willing to rent to him even though he was still underage. Working at the record store was much better than both the diner and the hotel, although his hopes of having Alex or his friends chance to stop in were dwindling some.

For now, it was much like before he’d left Vegas, only without Caleb’s dark shadow constantly looming over him and a few more memories restored. And, of course, he could keep Sheldon with him. It was strange how meeting Alex and being at the Pearl already felt like a dream. Willie often had the thought that maybe he should move on and start planning out whatever he wanted now. Maybe Alex had just been the catalyst to get him out of a bad position and help him move forward.

Staring down presently at the drawing on his desk, Willie sighed. Alex’s smiling face (what he could remember of it) beamed up from the page. Sure, he could tell himself to be over it, but was he really? Sheldon began running about the apartment like he was being chased by an invisible foe, creating a distraction from Willie’s thoughts. After a while, he went to bed and lay awake replaying in his mind the last few moments he’d actually seen Alex. It was still so vivid. If it was no longer important, why could he recall it so well?

He watched as Alex stood up and held out a hand toward him. Taking it, he was impressed by the strength with which he was lifted off the surface of the observation deck. His mind returned to earlier that day when the situation had been reversed, and he wondered if Alex had felt the same exhilaration from that moment of closeness. He already missed the feeling of Alex’s fingers through his hair. Gaining his balance, he let go of Alex’s hand and a nervous giggle escaped as a bout of giddiness came over him. 

“You alright there?” Alex teased, grinning.

Shaking his head, almost to clear it like an Etch-A-Sketch, Willie grinned back.

“I’m having a good time,” he told him.

The warm smile that spread across Alex’s face and the way his eyes lit up deserved to be captured forever. Willie was sure he could fill a thousand pages of sketches, even if they were all of that one expression.

“Me, too,” Alex said, eyes wandering all over Willie’s face.

Before Willie could blush too hard, he picked up his skateboard.

“I know some shortcuts that’ll get us back to the hotel pretty quickly,” he started, pressing the button for the elevator. He didn’t want to go back so fast, but he had to remember his early work day in the morning. Caleb always had some sort of laundry list on the days he didn’t immediately go in to work at the diner.

“You’ve been a good tour guide so far,” Alex said as they stepped into the elevator.

Casting a wistful look back at the splendid view of Las Vegas, Willie watched the doors shut. Once they got out to the street again, Willie looked up at the hat sitting on Alex’s head. Impulsively, he lifted it up and put it on backwards, grinning at Alex.

“How does it look?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Alex’s jaw hung open for a moment, his nervous smile betraying him.

“It looks good,” he said in a breathless manner. It was such a cute expression, Willie wished he could make it happen again.

Alex was wishing right then that he could keep a picture of Willie with the hat on. He usually didn’t let people just steal it off his head, but when the result was that handsome he wasn’t going to complain. He’d wait until they had reached the hotel to ask for it back.

“So,” Willie started saying. “Back to L.A. in the morning, huh?”

Ah yes, the feeling of being crushed by reality. Alex bowed his head. He wasn’t excited to address it.

“Uh, yeah,” he sighed. “You know, when I got here I was hoping to just get the gig over with and leave, but that...I kind of forgot about that.”

He glanced up at Willie, not sure how much he should go into detail about why he changed his tune.

“But then you met Sheldon and he was the coolest cat ever, right?” Willie teased.

A chuckle of genuine entertainment escaped his throat. Did Willie know how charming he was? Alex wished he knew how to tell him.

“Yep, it was definitely the cat,” he responded. “Although the owner isn’t too bad, either.”

He got a casual shrug in return.

“Well, I know I’m busy, but I could call you,” Willie offered.

Fear pinched everything in Alex’s chest. It almost made him stop in his tracks.

“God, I - ” he started awkwardly, forcing his body to keep moving. “I can’t. I seriously wish I could, but that’s just...not possible.”

He already hated the words the moment they’d been spoken. His parents suspected enough things about him and his activity with the guys in his band, but they would make his reality pure hell if they ever picked up the phone from a guy they’d never met who had shown as much interest in him as Willie. While he felt fine being open just about anywhere else, at home was where he remained most guarded.

Willie was looking at him with slight disappointment.

“That’s too bad, I guess,” he said. “At least I know I won’t be going anywhere for a while, so you know where to find me.”

It was the only consolation they could afford. Alex wanted to make plans right then and there.

“And what would we do if I did find you?” he asked, knowing he was prodding for signs that he wasn’t the only one with hopes. He tried to relax his stride to appear more casual.

“Lots of possibilities,” Willie told him. “I haven’t shown you my favorite museum, or seen you skate - ”

“Just putting it out there,” Alex interrupted, raising a hand. “I cannot skate.”

Willie blew a raspberry. “Maybe not now, man, but you will by the time I’m finished with you.”

The way he wiggled his eyebrows made Alex think of something much different than riding a skateboard. He cleared his throat nervously as he looked up at the street they were on. The hotel was already a block away.

“Whoa, how’d we get here so fast?” he wondered.

“I know my shortcuts,” Willie said proudly.

Unfortunately, he did. Alex wanted more time to figure out a way to see Willie in the future. There had to be a possibility in the future. His long legs could only go so slowly, however, and soon they were stopped outside the hotel doors.

“Are you gonna make it home okay?” Alex asked. “Wherever that is?”

“I’ll be fine,” Willie shrugged plainly. “It’s not too far.”

For a minute, they stood in awkward silence. Alex could feel his entire body burning to make some gesture that left Willie with the right impression. What would be too forward? A hug? A kiss on the cheek? He’d already checked off holding him and running his hand through Willie’s hair, so he wasn’t going to simply send him off with a hand wave or something.

“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow before you guys go?” Willie said, smirking optimistically.

“Yeah, maybe,” Alex said, trying to return a smile with the same optimism.

“Oh,” Willie sputtered. He took off the hat and tried to place it back onto Alex’s head properly. It didn’t work, but Alex simply adjusted it into its comfortable backward position. His fingers twitched under the temptation to touch Willie’s hair again.

“One of these days…” he muttered.

“Hm?” Willie perked up curiously.

Oh, no, he’d said it out loud. Damn. There was no way he couldn’t follow up.

“Uh...one of these days I’ll be around here again,” he said, nodding to reassure himself. “I’ll come looking for you.”

Willie could only look up at him and smile.

“I…” Alex began to scratch the back of his neck, but forced his hand down into his pocket. It had to be said. “I definitely like you.”

He watched Willie’s face morph from surprise into a smile, and finally his trademark eyebrow raise.

“So do I,” Willie said, biting his lip.

They both giggled, now that their feelings were out there in the open. It only made Alex ache more to stay. Willie placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You take care, Alex,” he told him.

He nodded. “And you be safe, Willie.”

He got one more glance into those gorgeous brown eyes, longing to toss in a line and anchor himself in them. The dim lights from the street played off of the natural glimmer that was always present.

Feeling Willie’s hand slide off his shoulder and down his arm, Alex could’ve sworn there was a tiny squeeze he received at the end of his fingers before Willie let go and got onto his skateboard. He watched him leave until eventually he was staring out into the darkness all alone. Reluctantly, he headed back up to the hotel room.

Alex was lying awake in his bed, silent tears falling down his cheeks at the bitter memory. His last words to Willie had been powerless to protect him. What sort of sick and twisted universe would let that happen? He knew he had no control over those circumstances, but he still felt that if anyone died in a fire, it should be him. Willie had been too wonderful to deserve it.

Turning to his side, he still hated the sobs that wracked through his whole body months later. Most people would deem it pathetic to hurt this much over someone he’d barely known. It was strange, but it felt almost undeserved, like mourning as he did wasn’t allowed. What about the people that Willie had spent time with every day? How could Alex begin to fathom their pain? To them, his sorrow would appear as empty as if he were crying over Freddie Mercury. This hurt far more than when he’d cried over Freddie.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t tell his family. The guys had been okay at letting Alex have his space, but his parents kept making comments about his sudden upset over everything. They would only see death as something bittersweet, a “better place” to go for people who were doing the right things. Of course he was terrified of death - he wasn’t exactly considered worthy of anything good, by their standards. That only made the loss of Willie that much worse. He hadn’t bothered to explain himself to Abbey. He couldn’t put that emotional burden on her.

Before he could let his mind wander further into the dark, Alex tried to find something else for his brain to put on cycle. Oddly enough, it went back to singing for Julie’s mom at the hospital. The words immediately began to repeat in his mind: we all live in a yellow submarine…. It wasn’t a song that he truly loved, but it was catchy. It was the one Willie had suggested they do. Alex remembered how he’d imagined everyone in that room in their own world together, safe and free from worldly cares. Somewhere full of color and warmth and people could be happy as they were.

That’s all he truly wanted. Maybe he would have that with the band, and maybe he’d get away from his parents and finally be free from all of their pressure, and maybe one day he’d recover and find a guy like Willie again. He wasn’t sure what he really believed just yet, but there had to be something good worth holding onto. If it was just some stupid world where he and his friends lived in a yellow submarine, so be it.

[invisibleinorange]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: None at this point. Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Marina Thompson/Phillip Crane, Eloise Bridgerton/Phillip Crane, Kate Sheffield/Anthony Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Hastings Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Phillip Crane, Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin

Summary: Colin Bridgerton is weary from travel and decides to spend the summer at the Aubrey Hall. While his initial plans were to avoid his perfect family, he ends up sharing the house with Eloise and Penelope. This is a Modern AU!

Penelope had always been a pretty girl but when she came down the stairwell with Eloise at her side prepared for their evening out, Colin’s jaw practically came unhinged. If she was looking to give him a heart attack, she was succeeding. His pupils widened and felt stomach clench in anxiety and desire.  

It probably had to do with the fact she was in a dress that contoured to her body, left little to the imagination and was dangerously short.  He wasn’t sure whether to jump her right there on against the stair railings or throw a coat on her.

“Get a grip on yourself,” Eloise murmured, rolling her eyes at him.

He took a moment pondering whether it would be appropriate to suggest that he wanted to get a grip on Penelope instead.  He opted for a different direction.  A joke about masturbation might earn less ire.

“I love to but we’d be late to meet up with Phillip,” he retorted before offering his arm to Penelope.  He waited for her to latch on before offering his other to his sister.

Penelope could overhear Eloise murmuring the word disgusting as she did latch on and they made their way outside to a waiting ride.  There was no sense in any of them driving if they were to drink and Colin hadn’t saw fit to force anyone into the Designated Driver role. It was far easier to all pile in and let someone else do the heavy lifting of getting them to the bar they’d agreed to meet up at.

Colin had made up his mind that he was going to get the seat in the back with Penelope.  There was absolutely no way he was sitting in the front with the driver.

“I’ll let you have the front,” he offered Eloise.  “You’ll have more room to spread out.”

She didn’t go for that though.

“I’d really rather sit in the back with Pen,” Eloise told him, sizing him up with her eyes.

“We could all sit in the back then,”  Colin said knowing there would be no convincing his sister otherwise.

“I can sit in the front if it’s a problem,” Penelope offered after a moment, not wanting to be in the middle of a sibling fight.

Colin and Eloise both let out a “no” at the same time. They’d at least found one thing to agree about.

Penelope let out a laugh at that.

“Okay then,” she told them letting them sort out who was going to sit where.  She had the whole night to hang out with Colin so she wasn’t terribly fussed about where. Eloise was the smallest of the group so it made sense if he took the middle seat.

She was surprised when somehow she ended up in the middle though. She felt a bit ridiculous squeezed into the space but as long as there wasn’t an argument about it and they reached their destination, she wasn’t going to complain.

She wasn’t completely sure the seat belt was going to even fasten. She couldn’t help but squirm when she felt Colin reaching under her try and find it, spending a little more time than necessary to try and help her get the job done.

“You really do look incredible,” he murmured quietly to her, hoping the vehicle’s music would keep the words beyond his sister’s ears. He didn’t need or want commentary.

Those five words were enough to make Penelope’s cheeks pink in the dark.  She had a feeling she’d stay a particularly rosy shade if the night continued on this path.

She might have been trapped between Colin and Eloise but Colin’s proximity was the only one that felt electric.  One glance at Colin and she could almost read his mind.

He was debating how many times his sister might bounce if he pushed her out of the car.

--

The ride itself to the city wasn’t long.  There was literally no person who wasn’t eager to get out of the car when they got there.  Colin easily spotted tall, unassuming Phillip standing against the brick façade waiting on them.

He offered a hand shake upon approach.

“I’m glad you could find a sitter,” he said with a smile before gesturing to Penelope.  “This is Penelope and …”  He then gestured to Eloise, “And this is my pain in the ass little sister.”

“I’m Phillip,” he said greeting both girls though Colin completely picked up on the fact his sister didn’t have a remark. He gave her a glance and immediately questioned whether using Phillip as a distraction was a good idea.  Eloise was practically melting into the sidewalk and he’d never seen her with that look on her face. Why was his sister looking at Phillip like that?

“I’m Eloise,” she said afraid, offering her arm. As Eloise started off inside with Phillip, Colin couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief.  He waited for a second before looking at Penelope who looked a bit stunned and amused herself.

“Don’t ask me. I’ve never seen her act like that around a guy before,” Penelope said as she latched onto Colin, her laughter filling the warm night as they followed behind him.

“Do I let it play out or do I immediately remind her that he’s grieving?”  Colin couldn’t help but ask.

“You let it play out,” Penelope told him. “Maybe if she’s distracted, I’ll be able to get a dance or two in with you without her trying to dance in-between us.”

“She never tried to dance in-between us at parties before,” Colin couldn’t help but say. He was amused to hear Penelope glad that Eloise was distracted though.

“The way people dance in front of their mothers is entirely different than the way they dance at a bar,” Penelope couldn’t help but muse.

Colin grinned wickedly at that. She did make a very valid point. He shot a glance toward his sister who had dragged Phillip toward a booth to get some drinks.  Phillip was well aware of the fact he was dying to get a little one on one time with Penelope so if they just happened to not go join them for the first round it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Shall we dance then, Pen?”

--

Eloise was the absolute last thing on Colin’s mind once he was on the dance floor with Penelope. She’d always been an exceptional dancer but there was actually a big difference between formalized dances at boring society events and this.

He loved the fact that she wasn’t shy about the way she leaned back into him, guided his arms around hers or the way they swayed to the music.  The warmth of her curves against his was enough to distract him from anything.

He’d planned to have a few drinks himself but he was stone cold sober and he was grateful for it, especially when he decided to spin her around to face him so he could bring her even closer.

His gaze fell on hers and he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Penelope more alive as she shifted, filled any space that might have dared exist between them. His hand went had respectfully stayed on the small of her back, couldn’t help but find its way to her ass.

“I need to confess something,” he told her, leaning his tall body down enough so that she might have a fighting chance of hearing him.

Her eyes met his and she seemed to be debating whether to tell him to go ahead or not but her face softened and she decided to cut him off at the pass.

“I’ve always wanted you,” she told him confessing the truth of the matter.

He’d planned to say something along the same lines or at least that he wanted her and that he’d probably always had and hadn’t quite realized just how much until recently but the words didn’t come out.

Instead he dipped his head down and pressed his mouth to hers, a free hand tangling in her red curls as he showed her just how much he wanted her too.

Penelope received the message loud and clear, her shorter body pushing against his until she had Colin against a hard wall in some dark corner. It was certainly far from private but the shadows were at least somewhat more private than the dance floor.

Never in his most erotic dreams had he imagined Penelope would be the aggressor in this situation and yet there they were and it was all he could do to keep it together as he tried to regain some control, spinning her around until she was the one against the wall. He was too much of a gentleman to take her there but he certainly wasn't going to miss the opportunity to make her beg for it.  Then again, he was probably the one who ought to be begging for it.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured against her lips. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[soft-glitch]

Through Thick And Thin

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog

Type: hurt/comfort, platonic fluff

Word count: about 2700 words

Author’s notes: this year was a mess. But I’m grateful for a few things that happened to me in 2020. One of these things is getting into the Sonic fandom, which helped me find joy in being creative again. Another is a budding friendship with someone really cool, that I can only hope will last for a long time.

This fic is kind of a gift to that person for New Year’s Day. To everyone, but especially to you O, I wish a happy new year and many good things to come.

- - - - -

It was not an easy morning.

Shadow had always been an early bird. He never needed much sleep compared to other mobians, thanks to his bio-engineered origins. This was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the days.

Being able to stay up most of the night during missions proved useful more than once. On the other hand, when ugly thoughts would assail him and sleeping them away was not an option, well… It was suddenly much less interesting.

On this last day of December, the hedgehog could not shake uneasy feelings. Between Eggman’s plotting and his own personal issues Shadow always had rough times, but this year had been… a lot.

Walking silently in the empty corridor, careful not to wake up anyone in the household, the dark mobian reached the kitchen and started preparing hot chocolate. Since most of his friends knew about his sweet tooth he didn’t bother hiding it anymore, and Rouge always made sure they were stocked up on cocoa.

While waiting for the milk to warm, he glanced at the clock on the wall. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The eerie calm of early hours often made Shadow slightly uncomfortable. Despite his introvert side enjoying the peaceful solitude, it was also a moment where his thoughts would simmer in his mind, either awoken by confuse dreams or simply emerging as the day started. He would often put some music or read a book to avoid thinking too hard about it.

Didn’t always work, though.

Taking a deep breath the hedgehog felt some relief at the sweet scent of chocolate. He took a small sip before moving to roll himself in blankets on the large couch. With a long and noisy yawn he reached for the remote and pointed it at the large TV screen in front of him. Maybe there was something nice to watch while waiting for his roommates to get up.

- - - - -

When Shadow opened his eyes again, sunlight was gently glowing through the translucent curtains of the living room. Which meant it was probably kind of late already. It seemed he fell back asleep at some point.

With a frown, he rubbed his dishevelled quills and took a look at his phone. Almost 11am, and no sign of Rouge or Omega... This was odd, especially since they planned on spending the New Year’s Eve together.

That’s when he noticed an envelope lying on the small coffee table, next to his now empty mug. It was plain kraft, with a small card inside that only offered an address and the words “At noon, don’t be late hun”.

Obviously from Rouge. She loved putting mystery and drama in everything she did. Shadow huffed and shook his head.

Irredeemable.

Did that mean his friends got up without waking him and prepared some kind of surprise? However silly it was, this simple envelope brought some warmth to the hedgehog’s heart. He got up to take a quick shower and prepare for the day, a small smile peeking at the corner of his lips.

- - - - -

The location was one Shadow didn’t particularly recognise, a small intersection in a popular part of the town. Since Team Dark lived in a suburban area and their job at G.U.N was usually all over the world, his knowledge of the city was lacklustre. Right as his phone displayed 12pm a text popped up on the screen.

Rouge Right behind the shoes store, a cafe.

The striped mobian rolled his eyes with a hint of amusement. Even for something as simple as a New Year between friends, the bat couldn’t help making some kind of fun game to play. Shadow would gladly proclaim it futile and childish, but he actually enjoyed these quirky adventures his best friend always peppered in his life.

What he saw next filled him with pure joy. Of course Rouge wouldn’t choose a random cafe to meet. She had to make it extra one way or another, and she just knew how to please him.

The Gentle Garden Chao Café & Flower Shop

Almost giddy at the idea of having some sweets surrounded by chao, the ultimate lifeform stepped into the small establishment. A quick glance around made him happy beyond words: soft muted lights and warm colours complemented vintage furniture, large potted plants adorned all sides of the place, and —most importantly— chao of every kind were all over the place, either walking, being cuddled by clients or sleeping on small pillows.

In the back of the room was a large counter, behind which a massive chalkboard displayed both the cafe menu and prices of various flower arrangements.

Before Shadow could go and talk to the barista, a familiar face caught his attention. Rouge was there, sitting nonchalantly and sipping some drink in the most ostentatious way possible.

The hedgehog smirked and sat in front of her.

“So...?” he started with a raised brow. “So what? Did you think I’d let you stay home for this special day?” Rouge huffed between two exaggerated sips. “It’s just New Year’s Eve, not an anniversary or something...” Shadow said, glancing at the table.

He realised an order of white chocolate cappuccino —his very favourite drink— and forêt noire —one of his favourite sweets— were set in front of him. For a second he felt something rise in his chest. A mix of gratitude and that odd yet pleasing vulnerability he could only feel with his closest friends.

“I know it’s just the new year.” the bat leaned on the table, her eyes both tender and serious. “I also know you haven’t been doing great lately. It’s been a difficult time, and of course it won’t magically be over as midnight comes, but...”

She looked in the distance, her eyes piercing through the windows and their cold winter lighting. Shadow could very clearly feel the bittersweet essence of her expression. This year had also been hard on her.

“We’re in this together, y’know.” she resumed, turning a gentle smile towards him. “And while I can’t resolve every problem we have, I can at least invite my emo bestie to enjoy some chao and indulge in sugary treats!”

The hedgehog chuckled at this, then raised his cappuccino mug. “Let’s have a good time, then. To us bitches.” he said with a knowing grin. “To us bitches!” she exclaimed happily. ”Now drink that ‘ccino, we have chao to cuddle.”

Some laughs and friendly banter later, two chao had found their way on Shadow. One was sleepily nested on his legs while the other was playing on his head, brushing his quills curiously.

“You really have your way with them, just like Omega...” Rouge remarked. She loved the little creatures very much, but she never seemed to attract them as easily as her two partners. No one really knew why and she honestly didn’t mind. It was fun enough to observe them from a distance: no risks of ruined haircut or having one mess with her wings.

“This is the best.” the hedgehog whispered, his voice full of emotion. His friend chuckled. Shadow was endearing in many ways, but his love for plants and creatures was unparalleled in an extremely wholesome way.

“Did you ever consider adopting one?” she asked before biting into her remaining pastry. Shadow’s expression became slightly somber as he looked at her. “I…” he sighed and scratched the sleeping one’s head. “I always wanted to, I guess. Even on the Ark, once we learned about them with Maria, we used to pretend having one. There was a plush, I don’t remember its name. We would play parents, bring it along for walks across the Ark, this kind of things.”

Rouge nodded sympathetically. Maria was less and less a sensitive subject as years went by, but Shadow was still defensive about these memories. Sharing them was one of the most intimate things he would do, and she felt honoured every time it happened.

“Maybe one day.” the hedgehog shrugged with a tired smile. ”Right now our lives are too dangerous. I can’t raise one properly as long as we keep fighting and going on missions Chaos knows where. – Let’s hope we get Eggman and his clique once and for all, then!” Rouge said with a grin. “Can’t wait to have you pester us with photos of your ugly little baby.”

The genuine laugh that followed made the bat beam with happiness.

- - - - -

The very specific atmosphere of New Year’s Eve was not lost to the two mobians as they strolled in the city. Streets were bustling with activity, but in a way that felt distinct from other winter holidays. The ambient anticipation was less frantic, almost… solemn. Instead of rushing for gifts and food, people seemed determined to enjoy the final hours of this year.

Shadow found it interesting, not without its charm. He was more used to strolls in mountains, lonely forests and small paths undulating through fields. The buzzing activity of the city was something else —very nice, though. Plus Rouge knew every neighbourhood surprisingly well, and offered him little fun facts and stories about all sorts of buildings and places.

“It’s a real shame we don’t get more free time between G.U.N and Eggman.” the bat lamented. “There are so many nice spots I’d love to visit with Omega and you. – We do have vacations once in a while.” Shadow replied. “Yeah, but they’re either ruined by some apocalyptic event or by an intense need for rest.” she sighed. “We can’t enjoy the Museum of Arts if we’re falling asleep every two paintings.”

The dark mobian nodded. Technically Omega and him didn’t need a lot of sleep, but being world-saving heroes brought its own kind of mental fatigue. Moments of calm and respite were too few and far between.

“Well. Next time we have some days off we’ll organise a Team Dark afternoon.” Shadow offered. “An exhibit or two, some games at the arcade. Maybe a small concert at a cafe. – Oh my. Hun, I’m impressed to see you take this kind of initiatives.” the bat replied.

The hedgehog gave her a friendly nudge. “Shut up, can’t let you make all the decisions. – I don’t see why not.” Rouge shrugged with a knowing smile.

They suddenly stopped. Without really realising it, the duo had reached the large avenue leading back to their house. As they exchanged a glance, Rouge winked. “Omega must be waiting for us. Let’s move!” she said cheerfully.

- - - - -

An immediate wave of relief filled Shadow as soon as they passed the front door. “Finally some warmth.” he sighed, removing his large coat and thick scarf. “I was expecting your lowered body temperatures.” Omega’s robotic voice answered from the kitchen. “Hot tea and biscuits are ready for immediate consumption. Made with love.”

Rouge snickered and Shadow repressed a chuckle.  Both knew Omega was absolutely unable to cook anything without setting fire to it, so the biscuits were probably store-bought. They still appreciated the gesture greatly.

Everyone gathered around the table, remembering stories about the now-ending year and its numerous developments. Adrenaline-filled fights, obscure investigations and exhausting assignments went alongside hilarious mistakes, glorious teamwork… and even celebratory moments with all the other heroes of Mobius.

“Okay, but the award for the best party of the year still goes to Knuckles’ surprise birthday.” Rouge said confidently while helping Omega put on a colourful crochet beanie. “Ughh please. Let’s not talk about it.” Shadow groaned, knowing exactly where this was going. “It was extremely fun. The fireworks accident made it over 200% better than any other celebration.” the robot insisted. “Oh right, I almost forgot about that!” the bat laughed. “Poor Knuckie, having to deal with a fire hazard on his cherished island…”

Memories of the furious echidna shouting frantically brought a grin to Shadow’s face. “But!” Rouge added, ”I mostly remember someone having a few drinks too much and— – NOPE!” the hedgehog exclaimed as he brandished his hands. “No talk of this specific event shall happen in this house. Ever.”

Omega tapped his fingers on the table as he eyed his smaller friend. “It is a shame I did not record it for ulterior viewing.” Shadow’s glare was so intense the former badnik recoiled slightly.

“Oh well, it’s all in the past now.” Rouge mused teasingly. ”Good times, good times...”

- - - - -

The closet was absurdly full of useless trinkets and Shadow was very, very close to “fix” it with a Chaos blast.

Of course he wouldn’t, knowing how preciously Rouge kept all those odd items from her past. Jewels, foreign souvenirs, postcards, old plushies, photographs… All her memorabilia was kept there, in a mismatched mess mixed up with cleaning supplies, spare beddings and various tools.

“They should be somewhere near the bottom!” the bat shouted from across the flat. The hedgehog growled, his eyes desperately scanning the clutter in front of him. Finally he found what he came for.

Fairy lights. The essential accessory to any LRCS —Living Room Camping Session.

Shadow walked back to the main room, where a drying rack and several chairs formed a structure covered by sheets and blankets. Omega was evaluating whether the improvised tent was big enough for him. “It is perfect, Rouge. We will be able to fit within the designated comfy area.” he said before crawling underneath the colourful construction.

The hedgehog carefully hung the string of lights around and inside the tent before plugging it. Rouge grabbed some snacks and scuttled against the large robot, who fiddled with the remote until a title screen showed on the TV.

“Are we really watching this?” Shadow asked hesitantly. “Shadow. We all know your inclination for romance between organic beings. Please come cuddle so we can start the movie.” Omega said. “Don’t tell me you suddenly decided to hate cheesy fiction, sweetie.” Rouge added. “I would rather perish than lose your snarky remarks and teary-eyed spee— – Alright, I get it, I’m coming.” the hedgehog replied with a frown. “This better be good, though.”

It was everything but good. Outbursts of laughter and incredulous stares followed one another as the movie —a romantic parody of the famous blockbuster Attack On Mobius— kept getting more and more absurd. Omega threatened to turn himself off as he struggled to find any reasoning behind what was happening, and Rouge almost choked on her pop-corn near the end of the second part.

When the credits started rolling, the three buddies snuggled together. The winter night cold was no match for a group hug and thick quilts. Shadow eyed his phone and hummed.

“It’s almost midnight. – Does that mean we have to prepare a wish?” Rouge asked in a sleepy voice. “We don’t have to.” the hedgehog replied, glancing at his two friends.

Has to be an odd sight, he thought. A haphazard team with so many differences, united by pure luck in a challenging world. Chilling together in a makeshift tent in the middle of a flat like nothing else mattered. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the warm feelings. Being surrounded by such amazing souls for whom he really mattered. Knowing all the affection and dedication hidden behind that seemingly cold name, “Team Dark”.

“I wished for a pony.” Both Omega and Shadow looked at their bat friend with tilted heads. “What? They’re cute, I dunno.” she shrugged with a shit-eating grin. “What would you guys wish for? – Dual plasma swords.” the robot replied. “Maybe I should ask Miles when we cross paths again.”

Rouge rolled her eyes, then shouted curse words as she realised midnight was mere seconds away. Omega startled, making the whole tent fall on the team. The striped hedgehog quickly covered his muzzle with his hands, trying to suppress an irresistible laugh. No matter how hard life was, no matter the obstacles in his way, one thing was certain as the year came to an end.

Friendship was all he could wish for.

[saintandsinnerwrites]

Could I ask for 14 + X for rosenali with demon/devil rosé? I feel like that would be super fun

14. You’re the devil. You are the actual devil. X. Supernatural creatures + Rosénali

-

Okay y’all, here’s some monsterfucking for ya nerves~ It got long, so I’m putting it under a read more lmao.

Kinks include: 

Monsterfucking (obviously)

Inhuman anatomy (a tentacle dick, or as Sinner and I call it, a tentadick)

Rough Sex

Creampie

Light Erotic Asphyxia 

If you’re not into those things, this is your time to scroll on by. If you are into those things then I do hope you enjoy it!  -Saint

--

Denali had never been particularly religious, only really exposed to it through her overly-religious friends back in grade school who believed whole-heartedly that God had a plan for them and all that happy bullshit. Denali never bought into that, but just let them believe what they wanted as long as they weren’t hurting anybody. She sometimes questioned whether or not God was real, and if he (she? they?) were real, then was the Devil real? What were they like? That intrigued Denali more than anything about God or angels. 

She arrived home after her evening skate practice, took a warm shower, brushed her teeth, and dressed into her pajamas, nice and cozy. Maybe she should’ve eaten dinner, but she wasn’t really hungry, just ready to take a load off. She was going to hunker down in bed, watch some TV and just relax for a little bit before sleeping. Little did she know that her body was going to give out on her, and she drifted off into slumber shortly after getting into bed. Her dreams were strange and rather vivid, she kept seeing this vision of a bestial humanoid. She never got a good look at her face, but it felt so goddamn real. In her dream, when Denali went looking for the creature, she always got pulled back to her bed by some unseen force. Strange, but not overall concerning, not yet at least.

Denali was so curious though, she wanted to see the being that crept about in the darkness. This wasn’t the first time she dreamt of them, but this was by far the most memorable. It was difficult to discern the dream from reality, perhaps the two worlds were clashing somewhat this time. As if sensing Denali’s intense curiosity, the creature decided to come out of the shadows, their face mere inches from Denali’s immediately. Not much would scare her, but that gave her a little fright, but that fright morphed into something else too. Why was she feeling this way when some devilish creature had her in her clutches? 

Perhaps she was feeling that way because the creature had large breasts and curvy hips visible through her skintight attire. As if Denali could resist that. When she smiled all that could be seen were rows of sharp, dangerous teeth, and that danger just excited Denali more. Denali never cared for the more vanilla, mundane things in life, and this encounter was certainly anything but ordinary. 

“Who are you?” Denali finally found her voice.

“The devil,” came the reply that sounded like an amalgamation of various voices.

“You’re the devil? You are the actual devil?” 

“The one and only, lovely.”

Shit… “And, uh, what are you going to do to me?”

“Wake you up.”

“Huh?”

She didn’t reply, she just snapped her fingers and Denali was awake and looking about her bedroom. What the fuck, what the actual fuck??? It was all a dream? She rubbed at her eyes and looked around in the darkness of her room. Silence. Nothing. Damn, that was a disappointment.

“I didn’t go anywhere, baby,” came the voice made of a thousand voices.

Denali kept looking through the darkness, her eyes getting used to it, more shapes becoming visible. “Where are you?”

“Above you.”

Denali looked up to see her, the devil, hovering above her in the corner. “You’re cuter when you’re awake.”

“Why are you even here? What are you going to do to me now that I’m awake?”

“I think you’re quite aware why I’m here. Because your mind can’t stop thinking about me, and it has quite a few lecherous thoughts,” she said with a sinister chuckle.

Denali was normally feisty and full of attitude, but when face to face with the devil who was already aware of her wet dreams it made even the likes of her falter a little bit. “Are you going to act upon my thoughts?” She fucking hoped so, she could already feel herself growing wet in her panties thinking about just what an inhuman being like her could do to her. The wind was blowing outside, moving the tree branches about, and allowing more of the moonlight to shine through into the room. She got a better look at the devil above her, and saw as she crawled atop her. A clawed hand came to rest upon Denali’s cheek, a thumb brushing over her plush lips.

“You truly are gorgeous, Denali.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course I do.”

Of course she did. “Do you have a name? I mean do you go by Lucifer or something? You’re not exactly the devil most people describe.”

That got her to laugh, “I suppose not. But I’ve had people call me Lucifer, though I normally go by Rosé with those who know me best.”

“Like the wine?”

“Yes, it’s my favorite, and as a hedonist, I don’t hold back on it. The Queen Demon of Gluttony never leaves me without a good bottle or two at my disposal. I can handle my alcohol a lot better than humans, I don’t get sloppy drunk like you all. It just fuels me, especially my lusts.”

Denali bit at her bottom lip for a moment. Fuck, this really was happening.

“Show me.”

Rosé used her claws to tear her out of her shirt, grabbing her breasts and giving them a squeeze. Thank god Denali didn’t care about that shirt, but even if she did, she doesn’t think she’d care enough to protest. She was so sensitive already, that even that little bit of contact was driving her insane. Rosé’s hands slid to Denali’s hips and she pulled her panties off and tossed them to the floor. She spread her legs, nestling between them before leaning down to kiss the cute Latina beneath her.

Denali was trying to keep herself under control, but she was so hot, so fucking horny that it was becoming increasingly difficult. Without even realizing it she bucked her hips upwards wanting friction, any sort of friction, something to help relieve this ache. Rosé grabbed her hips in a hard grasp, stilling her. That got a little whine out of Denali, her arousal increasing tenfold.

“No foreplay then I take it?” she smirked.

“No, please, I just want you to fuck me. I know I’m sounding like a little slut, but I don’t even caaaare!” 

Rosé, that devilish creature, kissed up Denali’s neck and jaw before murmuring in her ear, “Just to let you know, I am not bound by human limitations of anatomy.”

Before Denali even had time to question that statement, Rosé had already unzipped her garment and let a tentacle-like appendage slither forth and press against Denali’s pussy. She gasped, not expecting that at all, but she was intrigued and excited. She knew damn well that it was going to feel amazing inside her, it could go as deep as she wanted.

“You like it, huh?”

“Yes… I can’t fucking wait for it to be inside me.”

Rosé chuckled under her breath, “Obviously. And I’m already slick so all I have to do is…” Her sentence trailed off as she started to push inside, slowly at first, working her open. Denali’s fingers slid into the sheets, grabbing them as the devil above her went even deeper. 

“Oh my god…” Denali sighed, her head lolling to one side. Her dark hair blossomed out beneath her head, her perfect pink lips parted as she continued to mewl softly. Rosé didn’t let go of Denali’s hips as she started to thrust inside her, still going slow despite the fact that she knew Denali wanted it hard and rough. She’d get to that. 

“You’re already so far gone, huh?”

“Please --please I want it, want you. I can take it, I need it.”

Well, Denali knew her body best and if she said she could take it, the devil would give it. After all, the devil isn’t about evil, the devil is all about giving in to all those earthly pleasures and delights that God deems sinful. Fuck that. What kind of life is it to go through it with no pleasure at all? Rosé moved her hips faster, finding that perfect pace that made Denali moan with her full voice. She fucked her hard, the grip on her hips not once lessening and Denali knew there would be some bruises tomorrow. Perfect.

“You like that, baby?” Rosé purred.

“Y-yes, it’s everything I’ve ever dreamt about~”

“You want it harder?”

“Fuck, you know I do.”

Rosé pulled out, flipped her over and slammed back inside, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking roughly. Denali’s upper body arched when Rosé pulled her hair, and she was in utter ecstasy. Her free hand let go of her hip for a moment to grab her breasts, teasing her nipples and tugging at them. Denali was losing her mind at this point, all that could be heard was the wet, obscene noises from their fucking, and her loud moans reverberating throughout the room. Rosé chuckled, her hand moving to the woman’s throat, squeezing just enough to make Denali’s eyelids flutter. She kept her grip on her throat and in her hair, using that to keep her in place as she destroyed that sweet pussy of hers.

“Can’t wait to fill you up to the fucking brim,” Rosé groaned. 

That made Denali shiver, she wanted it, she wanted everything the devil would give, including taking her demon seed. Her bestie Mik would often tease her about how much she loved a good creampie, calling her cum slut and the like. She couldn’t exactly protest though, because it was true. So much so that the thought of having the devil herself cum inside her made her incredibly excited. 

Rosé saw that Denali had propped herself up on her elbows, so she took her hand out of her hair and grabbed her hip again. She nuzzled into her thick hair, taking in its sweet scent. “God, you’re so gorgeous, I love how you moan for me, but I will make you fucking scream.”

She went harder, faster, her pace now brutal, which to Denali was everything, and it only brought her closer to her orgasm. It was going to be the best one she’s ever had, she could tell. Rosé was right, she did make her scream, made her scream her name, claw at the sheets, push back against her to get every single inch of that tentadick inside her. Close, so fucking close, it wasn’t going to be much longer. She was damn near desperate for that release and Rosé was right there with her. That sinister smirk disappearing off her face as she focused on bringing them both to their zenith.

“Touch yourself,” she demanded. 

Denali did as she was told, rubbing at her ultra sensitive clit in quick circles. Just a little more. So close. Just a little-- and that was it. She came hard, her eyes rolling back into her head, a loud scream ripping from her throat. Her hips twitched, her legs shook as her climax took hold of her completely. Rosé didn’t stop, she just kept fucking her roughly, but she knew that she wasn’t too far behind her. Denali’s noises were music to her ears, and her clenching around her made her cum just as hard, filling her up just as she promised. Denali whimpered feeling the devil’s seed inside her, it was everything she ever wanted and more. Rosé rode out her orgasm, slowing her thrusts as she started to come down from the intense moment. She didn’t pull out immediately though, taking the time to kiss down Denali’s neck and shoulder blades. 

“Did you like that?”

“Mhm~” Denali nodded, nuzzling against her pillows.

“Oh also, don’t worry, you’re not going to get pregnant, I made sure of that. Magick, and the like.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even think about that, I just wanted you to pump me full of demon cum.”

“So vulgar~ But I like that.” Rosé chuckled, pressing more kisses to her hot skin. Eventually she did pull out, watching as her cum leaked out of her, and she had a wonderfully devilish idea. She kept kissing her, kissing down her back, all the way down to kissing her beautifully ruined pussy. Denali gasped, her head popping off the pillow, looking over her shoulder at Rosé. 

“A-are you gonna--?”

She didn’t answer, she just gave her cunt a few sloppy kisses and slipped her tongue inside. Denali twisted the sheets in her fists, holy hell it was so goddamn good. Rosé grabbed her ass and went in, eating out that sweet pussy like it was the last thing she’d ever do. Denali knew she was ruined, no normal sex would ever top this. She would crave all of this over and over and over again. Rosé loved that she was driving her crazy, loved that she didn’t have to hold back with this fiery young woman. This would not be the last time she came to visit her, and that was a promise.

“Rosé! I-I’m going to fucking cum!”

Good. She kept at it, using her tongue to pleasure her for the second time of the night. Denali came again just moments later and Rosé continued until Denali was completely spent, panting heavily with lust-fogged eyes and a static-filled brain. Once they were completely done, Rosé moved to lay beside her, pulling her close, and pressing a kiss to her forehead. A little smile tugged at Denali’s lips, happy that the devil didn’t just leave her after all that. Rosé would never, she would kiss her and run her fingers through her hair and lull her back to sleep so that she could dream about this yet again.

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.7

Of Monsters and Men

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)      x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 2490

Summary: ‘Nat’ and the boys are still on the road and to kill the time more than anything, they talk monsters and most importantly, witches. 

You know what they say: speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Warnings: mentions of violence, monsters, supernatural elements, mentions of amnesia and interesting dreams and swearing (always)

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

“Hold onto me tight. Can’t have you falling off, doll…”

“You’re such a troublemaker-“

“I want to see you come undone first. Can I, doll?”

“Do I look unwilling, doll? I’m actually pretty eager to find out how long do you need to recover…”

“Eyes on me, darling-”

You jolted awake with a gasp for air, your eyes snapping open into sharp midday sun. It took you a second to realize where you were, what the low purr under your body meant, music on low volume and a male voice softly humming along.

You blinked, meeting Sam’s gaze as he turned his head to face you.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked, concern furrowing his features.

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the blood rushing to your cheeks at the memory of the dream. They were bits and pieces, sweet and hot, yet leaving dull ache in your chest in their wake. You were absolutely sure this was your consciousness recalling moments with your soulmate, but you were unable to make anything useful of them. It was like chasing ghosts – eh, actually, did ghosts exist? What was it like, chasing them? Never mind-

You were supposed to be a ghost, because apparently you had died.

Alright. Shake it. Snap out of those messy thoughts.

The more awake your body got, the more you realized your chest wasn’t the only thing that was tense and it wasn’t only your neck that nearly cramped.

“Yeah,” you muttered finally, while Sam’s eyes managed to get really worried, still on you. “Just… call of nature.”

In more than one ways. Your bladder might actually burst soon, but you couldn’t deny your arousal either. Gee. Why did it have to be that kind of dream you had? Why couldn’t you see your soulmate’s face clearly instead? Nope scratch that, his ID would be better, complete with his freaking address.

“Hold on for about half an hour, Nat. I’d like to stretch my legs anyway and Garth should be waiting for us.”

You smiled at Dean despite him being unable to see it, his eyes focused on the road. It was sweet of him. You might as well be sweet back.

“Thanks, Dean. And you can turn the volume up, if it was low just because of me,” you hummed, holding back a chuckle when his hand immediately moved to the radio.

“Thanks, Nat. Wanna tell us what that dream of yours was about? You seem a bit shaky,” he nudged, surprisingly gentle. You would expect such approach from Sam, but he only glanced at you, apparently wanting to know as well.

You sighed, wondering how to put it without sounding like a horny teenager.

“It’s… I think they’re like memories? But they don’t make any sense,” you said in the end, casting your glance down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, fingers interlacing and disjointing again. “It’s my soulmate, I know as much. Or, you know, I’m pretty sure. It’s nothing useful though.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam soothed, his voice genuinely regretful. You just shook your head, sending a sad smile his way.

“The only pattern is a… a pet-name, I guess.” Well, until now, it was just one. ‘Darling’ was new. “He keeps calling me ‘doll’.”

You didn’t know why you told them, you weren’t planning on it. Except they were so genuinely nice to you it hurt and you felt like honesty was the least you could give in return. Now, you could practically touch their surprise.

It was Dean who commented on it, but not in a malicious way, which you were eternally grateful for.  

“Doll, huh? Maybe he’s a mafioso. Sounds like something from an old movie. Heh, maybe you time-travelled too!” he speculated out loud and you only gulped, not as amused as you should be. Was that a thing? Time-travel?

“God, I hope not,” Sam whined, effectively startling you. So it was possible?

“Nah, I bet it’s just him being a gentleman, ya know, the old-fashioned kind of guy. After all, how could he not, having such a… swell dame for a soulmate?”

Both you and Sam eyes Dean with wary and confusion.

“Since when you’re an expert on war era slang?” Sam demanded, amused surprise lacing his voice.

“Simpler times, Sam. Simpler times. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Sam just chuckled, shaking his head. You laughed as well despite not quite understanding what it meant. You simply enjoyed the banter and teasing that was strengthening their brotherly love; you already caught up that much, that they loved each other greatly. How could they not? They were both absolutely amazing despite their differences.

People might find it strange for them to be so close at their age – not that you knew theirs precisely, or yours for that matter – but you thought it was endearing. If they killed monsters for living, their lives couldn’t be normal and conventional, could they? It spiked your interest once more.

“Alright. What can you tell me about what you do and how you get your money?”

“Not sure you wanna hear that, d-- now I have the nickname stuck in my head, dammit. It’s not a pretty chat, Nat. You sure?”

You nodded, but agreed out loud for the god measure. After all, Dean was still driving.

“Your choice. We hunt monsters. But let me tell you, humans are actually the worst… well, humans and witches…”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Dean and Sam hadn’t even told half about the monsters that lurked in the shadows and you already felt overwhelmed, grateful when you reached Bedford and the older brother called his ID maker.

Garth was a nice guy, if a little overexcited and goofy.

He called you a madam, gave Sam a newest book by George R. R. Martin (who?), which seemed to excite the hunter greatly and Dean received a piece of apple pie. You couldn’t remember your life, but if you had, you were sure it still would have been Dean’s smile that was the brightest you had ever seen. Note to yourself; when repaying Sam and Dean, a pie and a book were necessities.

Your trio didn’t stop to chat with the man for long though – you needed to be on your way. Garth was apparently in the business of hunting, because he made a face way too similar to Sam’s at a mention of witches. You weren’t sure if you looked forward hearing about those; you guessed they weren’t wearing pointy hats and befriending cats.

The remaining hours to your destination flied; the brothers continued to educate you in monster food chain (people were usually the food, which you did not enjoy learning), briefing you on existence of things you could barely imagine. Also, they weren’t only friends with an angel, apparently – they were also on rather good terms with king of Hell.

“King of Hell?” you parroted, bewildered. What the h— heaven?!

“Yeah. Dean used to be bestie with him, too,” Sam quipped, half delighted at his brother’s annoyed face when sharing this fact, half bitter for pretty obvious reasons.

“Dude.”

“You keep the weirdest company,” you stated, your head buzzing with all the info you got. You grimaced when you realized that the company included you.

“We know,” Sam sighed, turning his tablet on. “But it’s not all bad. I mean, Garth, the guy you just met… he’s a werewolf and-“

“He’s a WEREWOLF?!” you yelped, causing the brothers jump in their seats and Dean jerk the steering wheel aside, throwing you all of balance.

“Christ, woman! Keep the volume low!” the driver spitted out as he returned to the correct lane, ignoring the honks of other cars. “I know, I know, shut up, I’m not drunk…”

“Sorry,” you blurted out on autopilot, your mind pre-occupied with the fact that the sweet dorky guy you had just met was a fucking werewolf.

It was Sam’s turn to apologize or he thought so. “My bad. I shouldn’t have just dropped that on you.”

“But he was so nice!”

“If you say so,” Dean assented reluctantly, voice dripping with doubt. You weren’t trying to figure out why he questioned such an obvious thing. It wasn’t your place. Not to mention you were still too astonished by the announcement.

Sam cleared his throat. “Anyway. We have two victims so far. Both are young women, Alicia Peters, 16 years old and Helen Sanders, 16 as well. They were apparently classmates, rather good students, but not friends. One of them was found three days ago, the other yesterday. They both sneaked away in secret, some other classmates claimed to them being… eh, giggly. They thought they had new boyfriends,” Sam summed up, while Dean nodded every now and then. “Why do you think witches? Could be dragons… which would be probably even worse.”

“…dragons? You’re joking.”

Dragons were real now?!

Dean ignored your incredulous remark. “Virgins, right? That’s what I thought. But check this out – according to the coroner, they had a puncture wound over their heart like from some very thin needle – or, more likely, a very thin straw, because their hearts were completely drained of blood.”

Your head was definitely spinning now, your stomach flipping over. You had been getting hungry before, but not so much anymore. You wanted to tune the conversation out, but it was inevitable to hear it. Your ears wouldn’t listen; it was like watching a train-wreck happen and being unable to draw your gaze away. Morbid curiosity played a part too.

God, you really were weird company.

“That’s disgusting,” Sam stated, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

You only hummed in agreement, trying to get the visual from your brain. Soulmate. Think of your soulmate and his sultry voice calling you doll. You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, shocked that it actually worked. His voice washed over you, cocooning you in a soft blanket.

“Tell me about it,” Dean agreed darkly, but Sam held out his hand all of sudden, causing both you and Dean freeze.

“What?”

“They found two young men this morning. John Doe One and Two for now. They were…” Sam wavered, eyeing you in the rear-view mirror. Now he was checking with you? You guessed your face was pale as a sheet of paper, but hey, it wasn’t like you couldn’t just try and cover your ears. You nodded at him encouragingly and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “…found in one bed, stabbed in the heart and… ugh, with their… tools ripped off.”

Dean winced, while you just blinked. Did he mean like… wow. Oh, wow. You weren’t sure how to react to that.

“There was a note. We apologize for ruining such pure lives of the sweetest kind and as a prove of our remorse, we present their families with-“ Sam faltered in his speech, gagging. “Yeah, alright. Apparently, the missing part of their bodies was found with the… note. No need to go into details.”

“Yeah, Sammy, I’d be pretty grateful if we stopped talking about that. What now, though? Do we believe this crap?”

“You could have an ally,” you quipped shyly, receiving Sam’s sigh in reply.

“Brutal one, but yes. We need to at least check it out.”

“Yeah, but we get a lunch before that. I need something to comfort me. You traumatized my love muscle, Sam. Do you have any-“

“Yeah, alright, just… stop right there,” Sam stopped his brother, as if shielding himself from TMI by holding out his palm against Dean. “Got it. We need to stop for a bite.”

You giggled, the sound interrupted by your stomach growling. When had you got your appetite back?

“I guess lady in the back agrees,” Dean hummed, grinning in Sam’s direction. You laughed when you came to conclusion that he enjoyed making his younger brother uncomfortable, Sam making a face back at him as he realized the same.

They seemed like a greater pair of siblings the longer you spent with them.

It only took several minutes to get to the town and find a place to eat; Dean seemed to have a talent for finding food, which you appreciated immensely. You hadn’t been eating much, ashamed of using the brothers like that, so you were hungrier than you would be willing to admit. You had a sneaking suspicion that Sam was beginning to notice, because his eyes were narrowed as you picked the cheapest thing on the menu that appeared edible.

“You’re not eating,” he pointed out bluntly the moment the waitress left.

You just gaped at being caught and so shamelessly called out. Dean’s gaze shifted to you and now you had two men glaring at you keeping you company in the boot.

“I’m… not hungry.”

“Your stomach said differently,” Dean reminded you with his eyebrow arched in challenge. You opened your mouth uselessly, the protest dying in your throat at the intensity of his bright green eyes. “If this is about money, get your head out of your ass, Nat. You need to eat.”

“But-“

“But nothing. We’re having a desert,” he shut you up effectively, not permitting any objections.

You sighed, guiltily merging with your seat. A menu was placed in front of you, Dean’s fingers pointing at it.

“Actually, you’re picking one right now.”

You wordlessly obeyed, defeated. “I don’t mean to be difficult,” you whispered apologetically and Sam just shook his head with a smile.

“We know. And I get it, you don’t want to impose and use us, but… we chose to help you. Try to accept it, alright?”

You only nodded, determined to at least find the best dessert. The corners of your lips quirked when you found it.

“Looks like we’re in for an apple pie,” you decided, smirking in Dean’s direction. His eyes lit up and you couldn’t but feel the warmth around your heart at that. You actually did that, made him smile. Maybe you weren’t the worst company in the world after all. “Unless you’re sick of it after-“

Dean’s hand snatched the menu away, shutting it close. “Shut you piehole, Nat.”

Sam laughed as they brought your food.

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You were just finishing your infamous dessert, when the brothers stiffened at the voice coming from behind their back, the other side of the boot.

You frowned, not finding anything strange about the female voice with British accent.

“Thank you, darling. It will be all,” the woman said politely.

The moment the waitress left, Sam and Dean stumbled from their seats and towards the other boot. The tension in their shoulders only grew and they let out a ridiculously synched irritated sigh, multiple emotions playing on their face; you caught annoyance and a bit of anger for sure.

“Rowena,” Sam greeted her in pretended politeness and you couldn’t but check the situation out. They didn’t seem to be happy about running into their acquaintance.

You got a glimpse of a redhead sipping at her tea delicately, her pinkie raised as she held her cup.

“Hello, boys.”

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Part 8

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I adore that woman, I swear. She’s so classy and sassy. 

Also, for those who haven’t seen SPN, I extended the guide at the end of chapter one - you’ll find ‘Chuck’ and ‘Rowena’ there ;)

Thank you for reading!