#. i have all the other characters already i'll add them soon!

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (10)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,

notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3

series masterlist -> episode eleven

“It’s a little weird.”

What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming. 

She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be. 

Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now? 

If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place? 

She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you. 

But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life? 

Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all. 

Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that? 

“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”

“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”

The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”

I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?” 

“Was he like that with you before?” 

“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”

To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty. 

“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.” 

Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.

“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”

“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point. 

Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he’s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?” 

The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.” 

“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”

The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.” 

Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”

“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”

“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.” 

He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.” 

As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet. 

The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.  

Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”

Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”

“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused. 

To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?” 

Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons. 

Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare. 

— —

You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction. 

To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.

You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband? 

She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married. 

Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.

Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else. 

Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.

If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.

Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu. 

You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal. 

It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her. 

As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman. 

And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong. 

Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.

Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own. 

Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.

If only you could be like her. 

As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.

“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.” 

A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?

“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse. 

“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”

Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line. 

“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots. 

The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.” 

Oh… “He bought more than one?” 

Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony. 

“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”

Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.  

This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi. 

There was no you in that vision anymore. 

The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.

You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband? 

Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one. 

At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free. 

Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them. 

You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest. 

Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?

“Giddy up!” 

Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.

My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy. 

Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.  

“Ah!” 

Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part. 

“Willow!” 

You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.

“Nooo! Willow, no!”

Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.

You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell. 

“Willow!” 

Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness! 

You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all. 

That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon. 

— —

“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.

“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”

He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”

“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”

…

…

“Y/N?”

“Y/N!”

“Are you out of your mind?!” 

You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.

“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”

“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”

“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!” 

“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!” 

The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension. 

“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.” 

You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”

Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you. 

With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.” 

To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place. 

“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.” 

Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy. 

“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?” 

There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.

But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat. 

Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.

“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.” 

Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.” 

“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”

“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…” 

Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest. 

“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.” 

Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind. 

It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right? 

You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again. 

You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself. 

As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.” 

That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever? 

Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy. 

The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital. 

So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you? 

“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed. 

Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.” 

You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son. 

Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?

If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined. 

And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse. 

Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself? 

The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage. 

You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family. 

Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight. 

“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.” 

You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?” 

The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it. 

“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.” 

Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else. 

Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired. 

“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?” 

She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.” 

“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?” 

“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.” 

You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists. 

Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there. 

And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi. 

“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”

You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera? 

You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet. 

“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.” 

Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.” 

Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life. 

Both choices had no happy endings. 

— —

When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind. 

Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were? 

He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse. 

“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!” 

“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?” 

Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him? 

According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them. 

And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you. 

Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in. 

How sickeningly sweet. 

At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality. 

It was out of love that he let you go. 

You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too. 

Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife. 

You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore. 

So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses? 

She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you. 

He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off. 

And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries. 

This woman was all he needed. 

But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider. 

— —

The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important. 

Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it? 

You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman. 

Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you. 

How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it? 

Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar. 

How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life? 

Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate? 

God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third? 

You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing. 

“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions. 

It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him. 

“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”

Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you? 

“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.” 

Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.

“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”

You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget? 

As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?” 

“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart.  “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.” 

“Y/N.”

“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”

“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.” 

“But—”

“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”

— —

It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore. 

Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now. 

He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway. 

As for you, well… 

“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?” 

He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”

Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire. 

These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor. 

A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon? 

Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news. 

“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.” 

Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?” 

By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy. 

“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son. 

“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.” 

Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?” 

Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.” 

Monaco? Why would you be there?

Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?” 

“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”

No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself? 

Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here. 

Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth. 

“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?

“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”

How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over? 

“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”

Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now? 

Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces? 

Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ‘Kemi help me out.” 

He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.

Yet none of it was given. 

And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi? 

[temis-de-leon]

Shy gn!reader who has never dated anyone before the Dateables

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

Romance Anon: You're welcome! I missed you too 🩷 I'm glad you enjoyed writing it because I enjoyed reading it 🤭Did you get a request? It's headcanons for Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon react to shy gn s/o telling him how they never dated anyone before him. Thanks!

A/N: I'm not entirely convinced with Simeon's part, so perhaps I'll edit it in the future

.

Diavolo

Since trust is a steady pillar in every healthy relationship, what truly cements the fact that you two belong together is, for him, that no one else in all the realms knows you better than he does. Add that to how fascinating he finds you and you will soon see yourself uncovering more layers than you thought you had.

However, he isn’t exactly sure if the subject of exes is one he enjoys to the fullest.

It was well after classes had ended that the conversation took place, nearly the end of the year and both enjoying each other’s company in the empty council’s room, and you were discussing how different it would be to experience RAD’s holiday festivities as a couple, having gone from strangers to friends to lovers. The topic of expectations was unavoidable.

Diavolo, who was raised sheltered, has minimal experience and believes that experimenting and deciding what you both like together is the best course to follow.

Would PDA be okay when you're surrounded by all the other students? If so, at what levels? Would you rather stay with him from the beginning or would it be better to spend time with the brothers and the rest of your friends to enjoy the celebrations before leaving the group for some quality time together?

Of course, the idea of you having expertise on the matter with a potential ex-lover doesn’t exactly bother him; you are desirable and attractive, so it would’ve been completely normal.

As long as you’re happy with him, he will thank whatever came before for putting you in his path.

But… what? Did he hear correctly?

You’ve never had a partner before him?

Diavolo was obviously surprised at the confession and, almost immediately after, also honoured and flattered. How could he not, when his beloved chose him above everyone they had ever met before?

This doesn’t change his perspective on you or your relationship, though.

Since he was already planning on being your last partner, being your first as well doesn’t make that much of a difference.

Barbatos

There’s a lot to unpack with this demon. From his past to his private life and his truest, sincerest feelings about life around him, everything is covered with calculated precision.

Since he is not in complete control of his life (not that he resents serving Diavolo; on the contrary), keeping so much of himself hidden helps him feel at ease. More secure about his moves and at a higher position.

You may ask to satisfy your curiosity, of course. You’re his beloved partner, someone who he wouldn’t date if he didn’t trust; but that doesn’t mean he’ll tell you the whole reality at once. He likes giving you breadcrumbs for you to create theories and, if you amuse him enough with them, he’ll also grant you little head nods and shakes that could help you put together the truth.

Having your whole attention and obvious excitement focused on him makes his heart beat a tad faster.

On the other hand, you are as open as a book. Blame it on your shyness and the stuttering that betrays you when you try to be all mysterious and suave.

And also, Barbatos is highly perceptive.

He already suspected from the early stages of your relationship that he is the first romantic partner you’ve ever had, so your eventual confession on the matter doesn’t change anything; neither your relationship nor his opinion of your persona. 

It doesn’t matter that the sole reason he’s the best… man you’ve dated in your life is because he is the only one.

What’s most important is that he sets the bar so high that you don’t even think about the possibility of ever being someone else; not before him and certainly never after him.

Solomon

Discussing this topic with him might get a bit intimidating. Not because of how he could react, but rather… You know… seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines? Sure, most of them were probably purely political arrangements, but it was still quite the harem.

He calls himself ridiculous on the matter just to make you feel better.

And also because it is ridiculous, but that’s beside the point.

He is immortal, famous for his search for knowledge, his consequential wisdom and his overall vast experience. Thinking he’s had partners before you (some of them not necessarily human) is the logical thing to do. You’re not even his first apprentice either!

However, receiving your affection might’ve been the best thing that has happened to him in the last couple of centuries, something he makes you aware of quite often, so worrying about his romantic history is pointless; there’s no need.

He loves you now and will do forever, even if things go wrong and you don’t let him anymore.

By the time you’re comfortable enough to tell him your harmless secret, not only does he see right through you, but he will also act like he doesn’t.

He’s sitting by his desk in his laboratory and you’re standing right behind him, arms around his neck while your hands mindlessly play with the golden tassels of his cape. You try to act nonchalant when you force the words out.

“Did you know you’re my first boyfriend? I mean, not boyfriend, just my first- you know, my first. Partner. Ever”

“You don’t say? I would’ve never guessed, MC”

You let out an offended gasp, but he can only laugh at it.

Your embarrassment is cute and he wants to see more of it. After all, it wouldn’t be your relationship without a bit of teasing.

Simeon

The way he loves you is so natural and genuine that it makes you feel like you've been together since the beginning of time. You kind of forget this is your first relationship and thinking about your lack of experience simply does not happen anymore; it's a potential insecurity that eradicates itself rather quickly.

.

Of course, the fact that this is also his first relationship helps a ton.

Despite being one of the oldest amongst all your friends, he's the one with least experience. It isn't something he has actively searched for, Simeon is not opposed to romance and love, but family has been (and continues to be) a major plot point in his life.

He has raised and trained other angels, fought and lost his own brothers and poured his heart and soul in a series of books that gained more fame and recognition than one could possibly believe.

While a potential partner was always something he could've had, his interest on the matter was never there.

However, Simeon has never known anyone like you before and probably never will ever again. Meeting you felt like fate and, when the time came, giving your relationship a shot was the natural step to follow.

You're an old married couple, except there's no bickering.

Whether you are someone with more or less experience than him regarding romance is not something he thinks about too much. Each relationship is different and he is more than thrilled to experience and discover what works for you both.

Simeon loves and prioritizes you just as much; being your first isn't something extremely meaningful, just a reminder that your story together starts at the same point.

And that's exactly what he tells you the moment you comment on the topic.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[michelle-is-writing]

Interview, Matthew Gray Gubler

He's so goofy, I love him

Word Count: 2.1k~

(C/n) : Character name for the show

I think even after all the years of doing acting, I will never be able to feel completely comfortable in an interview. Over time, it's gotten easier, but the lingering feeling of nervousness still creeps up into me. I always worry I'll say something that can be taken out of context, or I'll blurt out something I wasn't supposed to reveal just yet. However, if I'm with friends or co-workers during an interview, the anxiety isn't so prevalent.

Thankfully, right now, I'm in one of the rooms on set with four of my closest friends as a reporter from a nearby magazine publishing company interviews us. Kirsten, A.J., and Shamar sit along the largest sofa while Matthew and I share the loveseat in the room. It's fitting, actually.

Over time, Matthew and I have formed a relationship with each other outside of filming Criminal Minds. It wasn't planned, of course. We met on set knowing our characters would soon be forming a romantic relationship, and so, we started a friendship to better portray the chemistry on set. However, that chemistry went farther than I could've expected in such a short time, and now we sit as two lovers who can't reveal themselves to the world just yet.

In the show, my character, (C/n), and Spencer still haven't gotten together. They're perfect for each other, my character having been written specifically for Spencer's character, but they have issues like any other two people trying to get together. It's lead to a lot of ups and downs with many fans going online to tell us to just kiss already. Luckily for them, the next episode that's next to come finally breaks through that relationship barrier and our characters get together. Because of this, the producer has told us that it was alright Matthew and I could be together off-screen - however, we must keep our relationship secret and hidden away from the public to avoid any spoilers about the episode being released.

Due to the pressure of trying not to do any of the things I would usually do with Matthew, I'm a bit scared of this interview. I know the interviewer is going to ask us questions about our ever growing on-show relationship - that's a definite. With the increasing romantic tension between our two characters, I don't even think she has to ask any questions to get the answer she wants. It's happening, and it's obvious.

Once the interviewer enters the room, she introduces herself as Lacey and greets us all with a welcoming smile. Sitting down in the only arm chair in the room, she starts off by talking about the recent season to the camera while other cameras pan around to catch video of us all. With all of us being watched and recorded, Matthew waits until the cameras are pointing away from us before sliding his hand discreetly over to mine and linking our pinkies together. The simple action, makes me a bit calmer as a smile soon makes its way to my lips.

"So, JJ And Will," The interviewer starts, facing A.J. with the same smile as before, her arm draped against the arm rest while her leg is crossed over the other. "Are they thinking about having any more kids after this recent one? Maybe another boy, or a girl for change?"

At the question, A.J. smiles with a small laugh. "I think for now, Henry and Michael are enough for Jennifer," She explains, folding her hands together and placing them in her lap. "Plus, I think Mekhai and Phoenix are enough for me at the moment too," A.J. adds, causing all to laugh with her. The boys are wonderful, but with Phoenix barely six months old at the moment, I can understand why she would be apprehensive over thinking about another baby so soon.

"They are adorable kids, A.J.," Lacy tells her, earning a warm 'thank you' back. Turning toward Kirsten and Shemar, Lacey asks them her next question. "What about your characters?" She asks, "Are there anymore developing things to soon come along?"

"Just the same ol' incessant flirting from this old woman," Shemar jokes, earning a slap to his arm from Kirsten much to our amusement. However, Shemar quickly earns his friendship back from Kirsten with a hug as she struggles to keep her angry face. "But it's the flirting that I love! I love it! I'm glad it's incessant!" He further clarifies, taking Kirsten in his arms and swaying her as she laughs at him.

With that, our laughter grows until finally quieting down as Kirsten is back to wrapping her arms around Shemar's neck in a non-threatening gesture. This time, the interviewer turns toward Matthew and me with a smirk on her lips, his hand having already left mine moments ago as we felt the questions coming.

"Now," Lacey begins, her voice slow and calculated. I can't help but feel a bit anxious under her unmoving stare. "We have seen the relationship between (C/n) and Spencer grow and have breakthroughs on-screen, but, my question is..." She then pauses, her smirk turning into a grin. "What all do you have to say about yours and Matthew's relationship off-screen?"

Her question takes me by surprise. All of the questions we've been asked before were centered around the relationship between mine and Matthew's characters - never are they about me and Matthew in real life. We always chalked it up to the fact that we make sure we're careful in not revealing that we do have a relationship, but maybe Lacey just kind of sensed it. Although, how could she not?

"Oh, well," I start, looking over at Matthew as he smiles at me. To the others, it's just a plain, nonchalant smile, but to me, I can see the corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. "Our relationship is nothing more than friends," I lie, my voice calm as I continue lightly grinning. "We play around and joke around with each other constantly. We're very close," I add, being truthful for once. I know that Matthew desperately wants to stop hiding our relationship from the public, as do I, but we can't. At least, not for another week.

Lacey hums a response with the smirk back on her lips. "So, Matthew's arm around your shoulder was just a friend thing?" She can't help but ask.

"Okay, so, we're best friends!" I exclaim, rolling my eyes before letting out a small laugh. "Two friends can put their arms around each other without it meaning anything else. Right, Shemar?" I add, hearing the man in question agree with a 'I know that's right'. Meanwhile, Matthew has his own way of dealing with the unwanted questions.

"Whoah!" Matthew states, leaning back with a blank look, his hands help up in surprise. "Did you just friendzone me, babe?" He asks in a ridiculous voice, making me stifle a laugh. He's so goofy, but I guess he's trying to help me play it off all the while calming me down too. Like anything else he does for me, he's doing it successfully.

"You're lucky I even said 'best friend,' buddy," I add, crossing my arms with a smirk as I lean back against the couch rather than Matthew's arm like before. Meanwhile, Matthew just stares at me with his mouth agape, trying not to laugh at my words.

"Bu-buddy?!" He questions, purposely stuttering the word for a dramatic effect. "My heart!" He shouts, slapping a hand to his chest. This time, everyone begins laughing at our exchange as we smile at each other and slowly settle back down.

Thankfully, realizing that she won't get the answer she was wanting, Lacey doesn't question mine and Matthew's relationship again, nor does she ask anything more about Spencer and (C/n)'s growing relationship either. In fact, her attention is so far away from me and Matthew at this point that she doesn't even notice our new position with my back against Matthew's chest and his arm lazily strewn across my lap. Any other time, this wouldn't be happening, but with us establishing that we're just "friends" like Shemar and Kristen (funny enough, the only two that actually do know about our relationship), I feel as if we're in the clear.

After the interview is over and we're all released to head back to our dressing rooms, I make my way to mine with the intention of taking my makeup off before heading home and taking a nap. Of course, when I say 'home,' I mean mine and Matthew's apartment. Unfortunately, it's yet another thing we have to hide from everyone else.

Just as I toss my used makeup wipe into the trash bin, I hear my dressing room door open behind me before shortly closing afterward with a click. Turning around to see who walked in, I'm greeted by the person whom I want to see the most, and we can't help but smile at each other as soon as our eyes meet. Barely a few seconds pass before Matthew's arms are around me and my lips are on top of his.

Despite our touches being soft and sweet, they soon turn into something more as I find myself pressed against my dressing room counter with Matthew in between my legs and his hands planted firmly on my waist. "Matthew," I murmur in between kisses as his lips move down to my jaw. I know that if we don't stop now, there will be no stopping at all.

"Matthew, we can't," I whisper, pulling myself back to look at him. Staring back at me with lust blown eyes, I watch as he tries to catch his breath while I do the same. Having to hide our relationship everywhere we go builds up a certain passion that sometimes comes out in situations like now. Although, it's usually at home and not where practically anyone can catch us. "Not here."

"Why? No one's going to hear us," He quickly points out, shrugging as if it were nothing. Diving back into my neck, Matthew presses his lips onto the skin of my collarbone, prompting me to move a hand to his head and tug his hair back. Thankfully, this brings a halt to his actions, and instead of crying out in pain, Matthew jerks his head back into my hand and sighs through his nose, smirking. "Unless you keep that up."

Resisting the urge to laugh, I shake my head at him. "That's what I'm saying!" I almost exclaim, moving my hands to the sides of his smiling face. "Besides, we haven't come out as official yet. We were told to wait until next week's episode that way we don't give away our character's relationship at the same time," I remind him, feeling my heart slowly break as his smile falters.

Knowing that I'm right, Matthew sighs before laying his head against my chest in defeat. "I know, but I'm tired of waiting," He murmurs, his voice gentle and almost in-audible. Out of the two of us, I think Matthew's the one that this affects the most.

"Me too," I agree, my hand that had previously pulled at his hair now soothingly combing through the longer locks. "But, it's just another week, just one more," I point out, reminding us both that we don't have to wait that long anymore. "And then we can finally kiss and hold hands and hug without having a finger waved at us."

Nodding with a chuckle, Matthew continues resting against my chest as I massage his scalp. Although, a flip is switched within a matter of seconds and he's back to smirking. "You know, we could always just give them a sneak peek, nothing more," He suggests, turning his head to nuzzle further into the exposed skin from my v-neck blouse.

"Matthew, you are an animal!" I quietly exclaim, laughing as I have to once again push him away. With him grinning playfully, I move to stand back up in front of him, a similar grin making its way onto my face before I lean up and press my lips to his in a soft, but quick kiss. "I do love you though."

Smiling at my comment, Matthew tightens his arms around me and holds me close, my face now pressed into his chest for a change. "I love you too, (Y/n)," He murmurs, lowering his head as I feel him press a kiss to my hair. One more week is all we have to wait before revealing anything, and honestly, I don't know if this man is going to last that long.

And to be honest, I can't blame him.

[sabrecrane]

Battling Writer's Block

Believe it or not there are people out there who believe that writer's block isn't a thing. Nope, I'm not kidding, that is what my lecturer said last year and I just want to assure anyone that may believe it doesn't exist/ or are thinking of giving up on their work, don't. It is a very real thing and is very common to experience especially if you've written so much that you've managed to burn yourself out. Also, nobody in my class liked that lecturer for the rest of the year after making that comment so if you don't believe it's real...I wish you luck is all I'm gonna say lol.

So how do you prevent this?

Well first of all, you can't, but you can decrease how likely it is to happen.

Organisation

First thing is first, get your notes and your characters down somewhere you can look at them. Organisation will help a ton. Personally I have notes scattered all over the place both physical and on a folder on my laptop. Ideas come at random so I jot them down and then always forgot to put the physical notes somewhere. This meant I got stressed because I knew I had a good idea but couldn't remember exactly what it was. I did end up finding the notes and have now bought a folder to store my papers in. But this disorganisation meant I spent a lot of time overthinking my skills as a writer which then affected my confidence and ultimately resulted in writer's block.

Create

The next thing you can do is relax and create. Plots will come in time, focus on creating -- that's the fun bit especially if you're working in the fantasy or sci-fi genre! Don't create your plots first because as soon as you create your characters you might realise those plots won't work with those characters anymore. While this may not directly contribute to writer's block it definitely could affect your confidence so if you already have a good plot idea but find your characters don't fit then store away the idea for later to use with characters that will work for it.

Also I know I only focused on the writing aspect of creation but if you want to create other things then do that, too! Draw, make models, maybe a small mistake you make might give you inspiration!

Take a walk

This is common advice I see and that is taking a walk. If you can't find the inspiration to work on your current project but want to write something, grab your laptop or notebook and just wander around in a park and focus on your senses. What can you hear? What are the conversations people are having? What can you see? Try and show it instead of telling. Is there wind, can you feel it?

Create Your Own Definition For Your Favourite Words

If you don't want to write something too complicated and can feel your motivation disappearing but want to try and regain it, search for words and show your meanings for it instead of what the official definition is. For example the word 'love', the official definition is generalised and always straight to the point but the word means different things for different people. So what is love to you?

Poetry

Adding onto the previous paragraph, maybe try poetry! Last year I was dreading my poetry module but I have actually enjoyed it so far. I never thought I would but at 3am I find myself drafting up a poem to work on the next day. I do have old notes somewhere so when I find them I'll post them here so you have a sort of visual for how some poetry forms work. My favourite type of poetry is freeverse so if you're wanting to create a story without necessarily rhyming but keeping within the poetry theme, that would be a great way to start!

Relax

Finally, read. Sit down somewhere with a cup of hot chocolate or your favourite drink and read. Take some time for yourself, your writing isn't going anywhere and either way it takes time. Writing is a skill to develop not something to rush. Rushing will result in confusion and you may miss out some minor plot points you wanted to add. Reading helps you learn so pick out pieces that you enjoy from the book and see if you can incorporate it into your own work somehow.

To all my fellow writers out there, take a breath. Everything will come to you in time.

[gleefullypolin]

The hypocrisy on fandom's reaction of "fell too soon" for friends to lovers

I find it very RICH on the fandoms reaction to S3 and the he "fell too soon" for Penelope. I mean honestly it is a bit spit in your face fantastic the way certain parts of the fandom are wretching on themselves to make that point.

"He didn't like her in season 1." I'm sorry, Can't hear you over "I'm to escort Miss Featherington to the floor" in EPISODE 1. That's what a friend does when a bitch spills her drink on a girl you were having a polite conversation with. Or how about hanging out with her laughing and gossiping like silly goofballs on the side of the dance floor, didn't see him doing that with other people either. Because they were FRIENDS.

"There was no build up previously to show there was a level of friendship there where he saw her any differently than a sister." Ok children...lets move to Season 2. We can talk about the race track and how they spoke about his travels which was very comfortable and very much NOT like a sister. They had an ease, like people who, oh I don't know, had been communicating personally all summer long via letters. And then lets go to Edwina's night where he shares with her that her letters allowed him to get in touch more with HIMSELF. something also so very personal he would not just share that with anyone. (I'll get to this in another point)

"He just suddenly likes her after he kisses her." Big ball of monkey shit here. Colin Sensitive Bridgerton was getting to know himself back in Season 2. He told Pen as much when he gave her the "You are Pen" line. And yes we all gasped and grabbed our pearls at the You are not a woman line, but it was not meant as an insult. Colin inserts his foot so many times throughout the seasons, you would think he could run a mile with his head. He simply means that she is such a dear friend to him he could not forswear her from his life. He has put her in a different category all together in his life. He makes this point when talking to her about Cousin Jack. He calls her constant and loyal and makes mention that their relationship has been so natural to him. He also just soooooo easily makes mention to HER MOTHER that he's been talking to her about things that would make other women blush. Like he doesn't even see it himself that she's just a totally different place for him. He didn't have to kiss her to like her. He already did.

"It all just felt too rushed." I could go on about how they had conversations about their purpose or lack there of, in season 2, more than once might I add, conversations that you would not normally have with members of the opposite sex. The fact that he has told her and proved that he would look after her, he has called her special to him. He has had feelings for her for seasons. Don't get started about the longing stares, they have been there since season 1. You have to actually open your eyes and look at them. Yes there was the whole infatuation of the Marina thing. Of course there was. But if you look at his mannerisms during the entire thing, it screams at you the difference.

But dare I say the biggest and most annoying hypocrisy of them all is that this build up of 2 seasons of them growing friendship, talking and learning about each other, developing feelings for each other regardless if they know what they mean... suddenly is rushed. BUT when compared to other seasons where a brand new face appears and we are to believe that in a weeks time our beloved character is now madly, deeply in love with this person and YOU BUY THAT WITH ALL THE SUGAR IT COMES WITH! Burning for you and Bane of my existence and all????

At the end of the day...live in your trope. I sat through those seasons. I cried through their HEA, I was happy for them. You can dislike the characters for other reasons. Dislike how they wrote parts of the season, don't like the plot points but don't make the excuses above that don't add up.

If you don't enjoy my trope, fine. But please, in the nicest possible way, shut the fuck up.

[mortish-writes]

Weekly Progress Report - February 3rd - 9th

I rather naively planned on spending a single day writing the NSFW scene for the Heretic route. Then it went from being 2,500 words to 7,000 because of all the pedantry. I love how it played out and I'm really satisfied with the scene. It was pretty painful to provide an alternate route without it, both because it was so solid and because it was kinda sad going back to the regular character dynamic after writing these raw moments of carnal understanding between the characters. As I mentioned previously, if you do go the NSFW route on Night IV, your night will go down a different branch with completely different scenes. The full route is around 13,000 words, so it makes for a very meaty episode.

The Zealot night and the non-NSFW Heretic night will be around 8,000 words each. I'm going to have the alternate Heretic night tied up tonight, then I'll be editing it. It will definitely be ready and uploaded on the 14th (possibly even the 13th), but the Zealot route may take another day or two depending on how long I spend on editing. I'm going to have to really pore over the Heretic route, as there's nothing quite so awful as being deeply immersed in an intimate scene only to stumble across a typo or an error. I'll keep you posted.

I'm almost ready to launch the Patreon. Rather than putting the NSFW content (Bound/Unbound modes) on Patreon I've decided to make a version with additional tendencies that offer unique romance/intimacy options, as well as early access to new nights. This will allow patrons to tailor a story and MC that's more to their liking, without taking content away from free readers. The first of the new tendencies are already established in the Night IV supporter edition. They're "coy" and "assertive" and you'll be able to flex them within NSFW scenes and romantic dialogue. This month, patrons will be able to vote on a new tendency for Night V, as well as which existing tendencies they'd like to see more of. Once we hit the Week One mark, I will be revising the entire week to add in the tendencies patrons have voted on, giving you new options from the prologue onward.

I'll be launching the Patreon this weekend once the Zealot route is finalized and uploaded to Itch. As soon as it's ready, I'll be sending out gifted months to everyone who has supported on Ko-Fi. Special thanks to UnknownOblivion for last week's ko-fi! I'm grateful to everyone who's supported the story, be it on Ko-fi or just leaving feedback as I get the hang of adapting my story and characters into an interactive format. It's been such a freaking joy to share them with other humans. I'll be checking in daily this week to let you know how Night IV is progressing. It's my favorite night yet. Granted, that's probably because I've been dying to get to the NSFW, idk. I just think all RO's are better once they've gotten a taste of the MC.

[[Play Bride of Shadows]] [[Ko-Fi]]

[ggidolsmuts]

Bases Loaded, Holes Filled - Kep1er Yujin, Xiaoting, Mashiro

"Hmm? Hey Yujin!"

"Oppa, you can go 3 rounds right?"

"Yeah, I do 3 sets for my exercises, why?"

"Cool thanks, I'll see you soon!"

What was that about? You wonder. Probably nothing, just Yujin being random again. She did say she was going to the gym more, maybe she wanted you to be her gym partner? You don't think too much about it. You get a message from Yujin later that week to hang out, and you happily agree.

"Hi oppa!"

"Oh hey Yujin." She pecks you on the cheek, grabbing your arm and leading you in. "Oh hi Xiaoting, Mashiro!" You wave at them happily—they were probably heading out soon right? Yujin rarely calls you over with others around.

"We're playing Switch baseball, come join us!" They certainly looked the part, all dressed in the same baseball outfit you saw them perform in a while back. You shrug and join them, watching them play and taking a few swings yourself as well. The game was fun enough, you suppose, but it felt… boring? Like they were just whiling time away. You'd much rather go on a date with Yujin, if you were honest.

"Aish this is boring!" Xiaoting shouts, loudly and unnaturally.

"Oh, should we play something else?" you ask hopefully.

"No no, we just need to spice it up!" Mashiro chimes in on cue.

"Oh, how should we do it? Loser has to buy ice cream?"

"That's too tame oppa! We can have some fun you know." You recognize Yujin's playful tone—it's one she usually reserves for the bedroom. Wth some shock, you're suddenly aware that only the four of you are here. This was planned, a set-up.

"Yujin?"

"What? We can play with Ting and Shiro too, right?"

"Can we?" you ask yourself and them rhetorically.

"Yes, we're just playing." Xiaoting answers, pouting cutely, the same way Yujin would pout.

"Mmhmm, let's just have fun together." Mashiro scoots closer to you, mimicking Yujin's playful tone the best she can. "We trust you," she adds quietly and nervously.

"I… okay then." Is this really happening?

"Great! Oppa, you should play then." Yujin hands you the controller. "How much fun we have depends on how well you do." She runs her hands down your chest, rubbing circles over them in an open display of affection, even kissing your neck, sending a shudder down your spine—yes, this is really happening.

"I-I'll do my best."

You step up to the plate, and with the controller in hand you take a wild swing. It connects poorly with the ball, but you watch your in-game character run and make it to first base.

"Ooh ok, that's a good start!"

"Is it? I didn't score though."

"You got on first base, that's good enough. First base is Shiro!" Yujin takes the controller from you, and it is quickly replaced with Mashiro's hand as she leads you to the couch. You are hesistant as Yujin and Xiaoting sit down on the floor opposite the two of you, openly watching in anticipation.

"Pretend we're not here." Yujin waves your gaze away before leaning into Xiaoting and whispering in her ear. You wonder what she could be saying in such a situation, but you are quickly distracted by Mashiro grabbing your arms and pulling you into a kiss.

"Mmph, mmph!" You're falling on to the couch, Mashiro cushioning your descent as she pulls you on top of her. You much more vividly feel her cushions as she wraps her arms around your neck, making sure you can't not feel them. You bring a hand to her waist, still over her baseball jersey, and Mashiro moans loudly, clearly already forgetting about Yujin and Xiaoting.

"Mashiro?" Her eyes are round and shiny with desire, and she nods.

"Yes, please." She emphasizes it by bringing your other hand to her chest, begging you to squeeze. That's the sign you needed. You get to first base with Mashiro, enjoying her moans as you squeeze her breast. Your other hand slips beneath her jersey, gliding over her smooth skin. Expertly you feel for her bra, unclasping it from behind.

"Y-You're good," Mashiro comments, and she turns a deeper shade of red when you slide the straps off her arms. Neither of you hear the squeal from Xiaoting as you pull the bra off and toss it to the side—you're already busy feeling Mashiro up, fingers playing with her stiff nubs and making her squirm on the sofa.

Yujin's squirming along with Mashiro, knowing how it feels all too well. She watches you slip your hand down Mashiro's shorts, and her own hand drifts down her body, only to be stopped.

"Unnie!" Xiaoting is flushed red too, but she bites her lip and shakes her head—the three of them had so much planned, it'd be a waste to get themselves off now! They settle for holding each other's hands, squeezing and squirming in place as they each imagine themselves in Mashiro's position.

Mashiro does not have the luxury of imagination though, your two fingers slipping inside her very tangible and pleasurable. Your lips are on hers, and when she feels your tongue licking her lips she lets you in, allowing you to plunder her from both ends. Mashiro's soft everywhere, even on the inside, but her teeth clatters against yours when you find her sweet spot, her head jerking forward in response to your delightful rub.

"Nngh! Uhh, uhh, ahh, ahh!" Short husky breaths escape Mashiro, her cheeks puffing out as she purses her lips, trying to swallow the moan that is eager to break out. She gets louder in more ways than one as her wetness does the talking for her. Yujin and Xiaoting watch entranced, soaking themselves as they watch their cute racoon fall into rapture, a leg dangling lewdly off the sofa, showing off your movements through the stretching of her shorts. She manages to clutch at your arm, large round eyes looking at you unfocused.

"Do it," you whisper, and they roll into her head, a strained moan announcing Mashiro's climax. She shudders on the sofa, thighs taut and trapping your hand, making sure you feel her wave of juice over your fingers. You extract yourself when she relaxes, but you also let out your own moan when Mashiro reaches for you, grabbing you over your shorts.

"S-Shiro!" This time it is Yujin shouting. "Not yet!"

"Ah? Ahh, right, sorry." Sheepishly she withdraws her hand, pushing you off lightly. "Thanks oppa."

"What's going on?"

"T-That's just first base, we should keep going." Mashiro hands you a tissue shyly, and you cough and wipe your fingers with them.

"Okay, what's next?"

"We keep going." You stand up awkwardly—you are wielding two bats as you get in the stance, but clearly no one minded. You swing, and a strike, another swing, and another strike, you make a third swing and whiff also, and with that you have your first out.

"Looks like oppa needs some motivation." Xiaoting grabs her jersey and pulls up, but instead of taking it off, she merely ties it off into a haltertop, exposing her midriff for you. "Try again." Another three whiffs and you have a second out.

"Oppa, your stance is wrong, here, let me help you." She holds you from behind, pressing herself against your body—you notice immediately her lack of a bra, and her hand slips inside your pocket, grabbing your erection as she pretends to tweak your stance with the other hand. "Like this, got it?" She gives you a firm stroke, and your legs nearly buckle from her touch.

"Nngh, right, thanks."

"Good luck."

Strike one, strike two, ball, ball, ball. You take one last swing, praying it connects. It does, and you see the ball fly further out, but it is not a home run, instead leading to a double.

"Third base, good job, Yujin can you grab the things?"

Before you can ask what said "things" are, Xiaoting has dragged you backwards on to the couch, and you're making out with her like you did with Mashiro earlier.

"I prepared a lot for you," Xiaoting whispers, inviting your hand beneath her shorts, leading you to two discoveries—not only is she not wearing a bra, she is also not wearing panties; additionally, all you feel is bare skin around her warm entrance.

"T-Thanks— Ah!" You find yourself kissing Yujin all of a sudden, her hands aggressively tugging your shorts down. With quick strokes she gets you to full hardness, and with a groan you allow yourself to get wrapped up, a condom stretched over your shaft.

"There, done, go get her. Save some for me later." Yujin pulls away, joining a red-faced Mashiro who is not staring at you, but rather right in front of you. On the ground bent over is Xiaoting, naked from the waist down. You notice the bottle in your hand, and it leads you to a third discovery.

"Fuck me from behind, fuck me… there." There is no room for misinterpretation as Xiaoting pulls on one of her cheeks. You grab the bottle of lube and slather it on your shaft, spreading some around her puckered hole for good measure.

"Have you done this before?" you had to ask, both out of concern and curiosity.

"Just toys, nothing that big, go slow." You nod and press your tip against her rear entrance, applying a little pressure. "Harder." Your head presses more firmly against her ass, and you wriggle a little to open her up. "Fuck!" Xiaoting curses as your head slips in quickly.

"Sorry, sorry!"

"No no, give me time, fuck Yujin he's big."

"Y-Yeah, are you okay?" Ever the leader, Yujin's concerned about Xiaoting even as she's turned on, watching you disappear into her ass.

"Yeah, it's… filling!" Xiaoting nods back at you, and you begin to push in bit by bit, opening her up more than any toy could. You keep a firm grip on her hips, feeling for her reactions, listening for any moan or gasp of pain, slowly drawing her on to your cock. You stop when her toned ass finally touches you, and you take the opportunity to squeeze her butt—you're fully buried inside Xiaoting now.

"Fuck you're tight…" you groan, the pressure of Xiaoting clenching around you near overwhelming.

"Yeah? Better open me up then." You make sure to rise to her challenge, pulling out before pushing back in faster than before. "Oooh fuck, yeah just like that!" You settle into a rhythm, slowly pumping into Xiaoting, but each thrust is harder than the previous one. The clash of flesh is louder each time, as is Xiaoting's cry of pleasure. Forgotten in the background Yujin and Mashiro watch the two of you go at it, rubbing themselves—without Xiaoting to keep her in check the wet spot between Yujin's legs grow darker and larger, almost matching the one on Mashiro's shorts. You had never done anal with Yujin, but watching the forbidden act unfold in front of her sends her heartrate racing—she wonders just how full Xiaoting is feeling.

"Oh my god!" Xiaoting yelps in answer as you reach around her waist, sliding a hand across her shaven mound to find her clit. She immediately begins to fall apart—pleasure rockets through her body with every thrust into her ass, and that is now supplemented by your rubbing of her sensitive nub, a constant wave of ecstasy growing in the background. What was a pulsing, slowly growing ball of joy in her core is now burgeoning rapidly, persistently pushing its way through her thoughts, much like the way you are in her ass.

Mashiro watches you bent over Xiaoting, humping her, your hand hidden between her thighs, but it doesn't take much to figure out what you're doing to her. Xiaoting's arms weaken, and only her ass remains in the air. Mashiro spies her group mate's glazed over expression, and Xiaoting has never had a lewder look on her face. Her eyes widen suddenly, staring straight through Shiro, and her arm shoots backwards, trying to grab you.

"Ah! No— Yessss!" It's too late, with a wet gush Xiaoting splatters the floor loudly, her juice covering your thighs. She wails as you continue to rub her clit, extending her orgasm with violent quivers. Her slick continues to leak and trickle along her thighs, not nearly as explosive but just as hot.

"Fuck, gonna cum!" You groan, the pressure of Xiaoting around you too much after her orgasm.

"Do it, cum in my ass, want, you, to— Ah! cum!" Xiaoting manages to gasp between your plowing thrusts, eager for you to reach your own peak—with a grunt and a growl you press your hips to hers and unload into the condom. It doesn't prevent Xiaoting from feeling you throb in her ass, and Xiaoting moans with relish at the sensation.

"Haah, hah, ha, mmm…" You find yourself kissing Xiaoting mindlessly, stifling her last few moans. When you finally slip out of her, she takes the condom off you. She brings a finger to where you were earlier, gasping in surprise—you didn't just stretch her, you gaped her open, and there is a satisfying soreness to that, one that made her— Oh my! Blushing at the mess she made Xiaoting hurries to the bathroom without another word.

"Xiaoting? Are you okay?" You call out to her retreating form, but she the door closes without an answer. Yujin follows her quickly in.

"She'll be okay oppa, I think she's just overwhelmed, she normally doesn't squirt like that, or at all." Ever thoughtful Mashiro brings some tissues and wipes to clean up.

"Thanks— Mmph!" Mashiro jumps into your lap, juicy thighs straddling you. Through her shorts that she has somehow managed to keep on, you groan at just how soaked she is.

"Get hard quickly, we can do it before— Ah!" Yujin firmly tugs Mashiro off you, tutting at her.

"Later, it's not fair if you get two rounds before I even get one in Shiro!" The younger girl merely whines, but she nods in apology to her leader.

"Is Xiaoting okay?"

"Oh yes, she was just embarrassed, she's never done that before, but she said she wanted to do it again sometime." You gulp and get hard at the prospect of that. "And now you're hard enough, good, keep playing!"

"Are we really still keeping this up?"

"Yes! Otherwise Ting and Shiro won't be happy!" Mashiro nods seriously to reinforce the point.

"Okay okay!" You take a few wild swings, figuring you'll just luck into a hit and score. But no, maybe you were too horny to do it properly—it certainly doesn't help when Yujin begins stripping, supposedly for "incentive". All it does is distract you, and you strike out multiple times through multiple innings, until you're on your last swing. Xiaoting has returned, blushing but satisfied, and Mashiro and Yujin are growing agitated and annoyed.

"Aish, do guys lose all hand-eye coordination when they're horny?!" Yujin snatches the remote from you, and skillfully smashes it out of the park, home run! Immediately she jumps on you, tossing the remote to the side as she latches her lips to your neck, leaving a dark bruise. "It's a good thing I'm so wet, I got so bored and dry watching you whiff."

"Sorry!" With a moan Yujin eases herself on to your cock, and you see Mashiro and Xiaoting on the couch, enjoying the show and slowly pleasuring themselves too.

It is a different kind of tightness compared to Xiaoting's ass, but you enjoy Yujin's snug warmth all the same. Pinning you to the floor she starts humping you, midriff moving back and forth, throwing her hips up and down on you, making sure your length slides in and out of her fully each time. Sweat and scent soak through her jersey when she ups the pace, choosing to gyrate her hips instead, grinding her own clit against you. It's almost demanding the way she rides you, as if she's putting on a show for her groupmates.

"Are you gonna cum for me oppa? Gonna cum for Yujinie?"

"Yes, fuck Yujin I'm so close!"

"Good, cum in my mou—" Yujin makes to get off, but two pairs of hands stop her, holding her down on your shaft. "What are you doing!"

"Come on unnie, when are you going to tell oppa?"

"Nngh, what are you talking about?" you manage through gritted teeth, feeling Yujin clench around you—she's equally close.

"We found Yujin unnie's browser history, do you want to know what we saw?" Mashiro teases.

"No, don't!" Xiaoting keeps her leader down, firmly keeping your bodies flush together. You're even deeper inside Yujin now.

"Shush unnie. Oppa, the term she searches for the most is breeding, all her favorite videos end in a huge creampie, or even multiple."

"Fuck…" you moan at that thought, and because Yujin gets even tighter around you.

"Yet here she wants to get off you to suck you dry, what a coward, tell him what you really want unnie." Mashiro encourages.

"Yes tell him!" Xiaoting eggs her on."Don't you want to see oppa's thick load leaking out of you when you get off him, it's going to leak everywhere. Maybe we can record it too? We won't let you move until you tell him."

"Fuck!" Yujin cries out at the thought. Xiaoting helps both of you along, making Yujin move her hips on top of you, eking out just that little bit more pleasure and getting you just a little deeper inside her.

"中に出して! I don't need to translate that for you do I unnie?" Mashiro joins in on the filthy teasing.

"N-No, nngh!"

"Yujin I can't hold on much longer!" you grunt, Yujin's dirty thoughts and newfound desires gripping you just as hard as her pussy is right now.

"Okay, okay!" With a gentle push from Xiaoting she falls on top of you, whispering directly in your ear. "I want to be bred, cum in me! Breed me, please breed me oppa, I don't care, just cum in me." Yujin's begging whimpers become sobs of pleasure as you grab her ass and take over, bringing her down on you in time with your upward thrusts.

"Oh, oh fuck, that's so deep! Ah ah ah… yes yes yes!" There's no going back, and with a few furious thrusts upwards Yujin orgasms powerfully with you, clenching around your tip blasting seed into her womb. "I-I can feel it, it's so much, mmm…" She hugs you tightly, clinging to you for all she's worth and letting out small whispers of joy. For a while all that's heard is you and Yujin's laboured moans plus Mashiro's and Xiaoting's heavy breathing. When Yujin goes limp she sags on you completely, utterly wasted by the experience—you've never seen her like this.

"Wow… Look." Xiaoting helps pull Yujin up and back slowly. Your cock slips out of her, and immediately a thick stream of white oozes out of her. "Isn't that what you wanted unnie?"

"I guess, I— Shiro!" You back up as Mashiro straddles you, bending over to lick your load oozing out of her leader. She wiggles her ass as she does so, a clear invitation to get hard again quickly. You watch in dumbfounded surprise as the quiet girl continues licking Yujin, and it is only when her hands go to her shorts you realize what she is offering. You help Mashiro out, pulling down her shorts, just enough to expose her glistening pussy for the first time.

Mashiro's first attempt earlier was stopped by Yujin, but this time, having sufficiently distracted her leader with her tongue, the co-leader grabs your hard again shaft and lines herself up with it. Her moan is muffled by Yujin's muff, but there is no hiding your groan when Mashiro takes your stiff bat up her pussy. That is something for Xiaoting to stifle as she stands over you and grabs your hair. You take a moment to admire Mashiro's ass and thighs jiggling while she bounces on you, but soon your tilt your head back, allowing Xiaoting to push herself on your face. You eat her out from below, her juices no longer squirting out, but leaking constantly down your chin instead.

The sinful scene silently simmers, each of you quieting your pleasure through a pussy in the face or a hand on the mouth. Yujin's legs tremble, Mashiro's thighs bounce and jiggle, Xiaoting's pussy quivers and leaks, but it is all whispered names and whimpered "yes" until you grope Xiaoting's ass, spreading her cheeks while eating her out. A finger into her newly un-gaped ass forces her to break the silence, crying out a ecstatic apology as she floods your mouth with more nectar.

It triggers a chain reaction—Yujin watches Xiaoting's juice splash and trickle down your chin, and it triggers her own orgasm, her hands going to her co-leader's head, forcing Mashiro's tongue deeper into her cum-filled heat. Hearing the other two members cry out, Mashiro slams herself hard on your shaft and combusts with them, clenching around you and coating your shaft with her own slick.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum!" you shout, managing to disengage from Xiaoting's pussy to warn Mashiro.

"No, wait!" She shudders and forces herself to lift off you. Turning around, she tears her jersey off and makes you feel her bustiness, trapping your slick covered shaft between her breasts. "Do it oppa, go ahead." Watching the "innocent" racoon of the group push your cock through her cleavage and feeling her soft tits squishing around you proves too much, and with a jerk of your hips you splatter her face. Your own vision goes black, and you feel hands all over your shaft as you thrust blindly upwards through their strokes, shooting shot after shot until you are fully drained, and not even the hand on your balls can coax more out of you.

"Mmmmmph…" The sudden warm mouth on your cock does though, and you whimper and squeeze off a parting shot into it. You finally manage to open your eyes, just in time to see Mashiro releasing your shaft, licking your sensitive tip for good measure. Your eyes widen at her cum-covered face, a good amount on her neck and chest too; your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you see Yujin and Xiaoting next to her, faces also covered with white splatters and streaks.

"Home run," Yujin whispers, and the three of them look at each other and giggle. "Come on, let's clean up." They head for the bathroom, leaving you to wonder what the fuck just happened. Groaning in exertion you reach for some wipes, cleaning their juices left all over you and the floor. Sore but satisfied, you pull on your clothes and sag into the clean end of the couch, and it feels like you've taken a short nap until you notice Yujin's weight in your lap.

"Oppa." She hugs you and nuzzles your neck.

"Hey, hmm I guess that's what you meant by 3 rounds, and here I thought you were talking about exercises."

"Oops, sorry. I mean, technically it's exercise."

"I guess, I'm pretty sore." Yujin joins you in your chuckle. "Are Mashiro and Xiaoting okay?"

"Yeah, they're both a little sore."

"Mmhmm, we normally don't have something that big to work with." The two of you are distracted by Xiaoting and Mashiro joining you. Xiaoting winces a little as she adjusts her stance slightly. "Definitely a little sore."

"It's a good sore though." Mashiro assures you. "Thanks for the fun time oppa."

"Sure, it was fun for me too." Xiaoting's glance flitters from you to Yujin, and a glance from her leader makes Xiaoting's eyes widen slightly in acknowledgement.

"We umm, we're going out to get coffee!"

"We are?" Mashiro asks. "We have a coffee machine at home though!"

"It tastes better from a cafe! Let's go. Unnie make sure you take your 'medicine'."

"Medicine? Yujin are you sick?"

"Aish, for a co-leader you are slow on the uptake sometimes!" Xiaoting grabs Mashiro by the arm and leads her away firmly. "Bye!"

"Get me something too Ting!"

"Yes unnie!" With that, you and Yujin are alone once more.

"So, about that medicine, or rather, why you would need to take something…" You trail off, allowing Yujin to pick up the thread as you watch her get off you and go take a pill, her face blushing when she settles back in your lap.

"I—I know we've been careful, but I've just been watching more umm, videos, and it's really hot. I didn't think they would find that, I wasn't planning on bringing it up with you until much later."

"Why not?" you ask, bring a hand to her cheek and finding it very warm.

"We've never discussed anything about that, I didn't want to scare you away or anything."

"Look, it's just a kink, we know what each other likes, I don't think hiding a new kink helps, I want you to feel good too when we do it." You kiss and hug her, murmuring in her ear. "We can discuss our future together and what that looks like next time, not right after you pulled me in for a foursome."

"That's fair, sorry." You peck her lips in acceptance of her apology.

"If that's a kink you have, I'm more than happy to do it. I can trust you to keep us safe right?"

"Yes, I'll make sure I stick to the schedule and remember to take it on time."

"Good, then next time I'll be sure to go three rounds again, and it'll all go into you, fill you up fully."

"Yah… you make me want to do it right now," Yujin hits you cutely on the chest and pouts, and it turns into a smirk as she slips her top slightly and reveals a shoulder.

"Hah no more today please! Besides, aren't they coming back with coffee soon?"

"Hmph fine!" You cuddle Yujin to appease her need for skinship, and it was lucky you two didn't go any further, as a few minutes later Xiaoting and Mashiro return with ice-cold drinks.

"Oppa we got something for you too!"

"Thanks a lot!" The four of you switch to playing some actual games until Yujin checks her phone.

"The members will be coming back soon, you should probably go."

"Yeah, I'll head out, thanks for having me over." It sounded insane, like you were thanking them for a quiet night in rather than a wild fuckfest. You hug Xiaoting and Mashiro goodbye, and they press themselves against you fully.

"Thanks oppa." Mashiro's cheeks are a tint of pink, to think she was writhing beneath you on the sofa earlier, and then bouncing on you later!

"Thanks oppa! Let's have more fun next time." Xiaoting waves as Yujin walks you to the door, and you kiss and hold her close.

"See you soon, remember to take your 'medicine'."

"I will I will, thanks for playing along with everything."

"As long as it doesn't become a regular thing, the three of you are a lot for me you know? I can barely keep just you satisfied."

"Oh I was definitely satisfied, and I'm sure Ting and Shiro are too. Maybe I'll listen to Ting and actually record it next time."

"From one risk to another huh?" Yujin pecks you good bye and pushes you out the door.

Weeks later you get a message from Yujin.

We're doing another baseball thing soon, you know what that means~

You start practicing the baseball game—you can't leave them waiting too long the next time after all.

A/N: Just a crazy idea I had, ever since they did the baseball thing I thought about the foursome. Finally got around to it. Little bit all over the place, thanks for reading!

[mywritingonlyfans]

Teacher's pet. // Prof! Alex Turner X Stud! Reader (Smut) Part 2 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9K.

a/n: I'll need to add one more part, I hope you still feel like reading them! Thank you for waiting all this time! (I'll try my best to finish the last part soon)

HERE'S PART1

Alex promptly notified campus authorities about the boys. Although he didn't know their names, his detailed description enabled other professors to identify them. He ultimately concluded that they weren't a real threat, just a bunch of troublemakers. Nevertheless, he did his part, unwilling to let the situation slide and subject himself to any torment for having overlooked their inappropriate behavior. In the same way, he'd be watching you just as closely, not only because he wanted you to be okay but also because of the intensity that had built up inside him (thoughts and a tiny bit of obsession) after the last time he saw you.

…

His messy and crooked handwriting on the napkin somehow lingered in your mind. Not as much as the possibility of him being someone other than yours, but it persistently surrounded your aura. Your idealization of Professor Turner did not fit with him being a traitor, so yes, the way you portrayed him in your mind did not allow for such a possibility unless he proved otherwise. And that hurts, from deep within your core to the bitterness in your mouth and the burning in your throat. It was frustrating, yet you still wanted him around. What continued to motivate you to read the book he had given you and delve into his notes was the feeling of having him by your side, reading every word with you. Sometimes you were certain that if you closed your eyes, you could hear his rough, accentuated voice blending with the characters.

Perhaps, if you were his age and already held a degree, maybe even a professor specializing in romantic literature, there might have been something between you two. Picture it: a rainy afternoon, your head resting on his chest, his warm lips near your ear as he read to you. You hadn't openly acknowledged it yet, but you felt a certain compatibility despite the numbers of years difference. It took you a while to realize, but his demeanor softened whenever he saw you, his gaze growing more serene, and even the beloved wrinkle between his eyebrows had time to relax. His voice became gentler. You weren't completely oblivious to these cues, though you did have your doubts.

It all traced back to that one night when he had come to your aid, opening your eyes to the possibility that he could belong to someone. The faint, woody scent of his blazer had found its way to your home. He had even apologized for pulling back from a kiss, not wanting to be rude, and left his phone number in your belongings with a simple message: "Call me if you need me, lil’ one." He left no room for doubt; your mind still spun, and you felt helpless, uncertain about what steps to take. But your desire to do something about it burned brightly.

"I can hear your breathing," his tone was relaxed. Just as you hoped it would be with you, and then you wondered if he could recognize you by your breathing alone.

You remained silent, there was no plausible reason or emergency that had made you call. It wasn't strange, just unusual. He laughed, which made you imagine him with a cigarette between his fingers, taking a breath on the balcony with his mouth slightly open to blow out the smoke. Maybe he just smoked too much, and you weren't obsessed.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence." He laughed, in a way that filled your lungs, and the little wrinkles around his eyes appeared for contemplation. At least in your mind, just for you.

You exhaled, your eyes filling with tears. It wasn't exactly a desire to cry, but you felt genuinely sad knowing that you weren't and wouldn't be his.

"How do you know it's me, Mr. Turner?" You wanted to sound playful, but your voice came out so shaky that it made calling him that seem inappropriate.

"It was a guess. Besides, I can't think of anyone who would call me at this hour and stay in deep silence. And, well," there was a pause, his guttural and muffled breathing making you take a deep breath. Enough time for a drag, you thought. "You know, I was ‘oping you’d call." He was sincere, typical of him. He always seemed too clear when he wanted to be. Everyone said he was strict, but you couldn't think of a time when he had made his students confused or uncertain about something he demanded. Demanded, that was a word that suited him in the classroom.

"Waited?" And you saw him nod with a sweet look for you, as if he were by your side. In fact, he just mumbled. "Expected me to be in trouble?" You tried to sound more cheerful.

There was a pause; you lay down, staring at the walls until you buried your nose in the pillow in a hug. He was close to his phone; you could hear him wet his lips and breathe lightly. You wanted to run your fingers over his face and hair again, but you couldn't deny that this was as magnificent as it got.

"Not at all, but I wouldn't hesitate to save you." His eyes closed tightly. The silence grew deeper, still comfortable, it was cute. If you had the chance, you would kiss him before that, before it got too cute. "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding regretful, just reluctant due to your brief absence.

You laughed, not saying anything, but it was enough for him to understand that everything was okay.

"Are you sad?"

Then you felt the pillow get a little damp.

"Am I really that transparent?"

He let out a breath through his nose, his lips curving. If he closed his eyes just right, just like you did, he would also be able to feel your fingers dancing around him.

"Only when you write, but I blame myself for watchin’ you too much during this time." You sounded the same way as when he pushed you a little too hard with his pragmatic comments, and although he found it adorable, over the phone, without being able to do anything about it, it made him a little uncomfortable. His words took brief seconds to be spoken; he wondered if you noticed how nervous he was that he needed to formulate sentences before speaking. And even then, he regretted some of them, not that they were bad, but he didn't want to hurt you.

"I guess I am,"

"Guess?" The air caught in your throat, the back of your nose starting to burn, and you feared it would be difficult to keep tears from flowing.

You didn't want to comment on the woman in the photo, at least not at that moment; you wanted to enjoy being with him as much as possible. Taking a deep breath, you decided to omit the reason but still let him know that you were genuinely upset. Maybe it was because he had helped you; you didn't know why, but you trusted him to a moderate extent that included your feelings. You believed and knew that talking to him would make you feel better.

"I think I'm just stressed," it wasn't a lie. His body shivered, unable to hold you close to comfort you. You felt a little pathetic making such a confession to a 37-year-old man who didn't have the same problems as you.

"I feel like I'm trying so hard for nothing, the days of writing have been a burden, and everything I write is so thought out and time-consuming that I feel like no one would want to read it, I'm almost certain I'm a fraud. I'm just waiting for the day they'll realize." Your throat was already scratchy enough to be closed from the middle to the end; your face was wet, and your head pounded in pulses. This was a recurring thought of yours; you had never verbalized it to anyone.

He listened, his steady breathing becoming slightly faster, and in a way, it calmed you over the phone. The whimsical feeling that he was there for you, even if it was a situation made up in your head, put you at ease.

Alex had noticed that you were insecure about your writing; it was clear how you reacted to his notes and negative feedback. But that was one of the things that made you good, the persistence in wanting to recognize your mistakes, listen, and do things differently. He wished all his students were like that. Although you had a special place in his mind and heart. Alex found you talented and determined; weakness didn't align with your gentle and loving personality. He wanted to make you see yourself through his eyes and free you from that feeling.

"I don't think you are, lil’ one; I know you're not," the pet name brought a smile to your face, and Alex noticed, his chest warming with the satisfaction of successfully soothing your worries. "You'll reach your goals. You write well, pay great attention to detail, and I love every touch of romance in your writing. I mean it now, and I'll mean it even more in the near future. You’re quite meant for this." He settled into his bed, clearing his mind as he imagined you lying beside him. Alex could almost see your gaze darting away from his, just as you often did during his lectures, as if you hoped he wouldn't notice.

You wouldn't admit it, and he wouldn't discover it, but you felt more confident and better in this emotional aspect after his classes. You recognized that you felt even worse about this in the months before you even knew Alex. Now it was different, and you liked that.

"Do you really think so?" It didn't sound like you wanted to hear him repeat the same words. It was more like you still had traces of doubt. He could even see your nose wrinkling, a habit of yours when you were uncertain, which he found endearing. Just like hearing your weak voice like that, no matter how wrong it may be.

"Sometimes I'm certain that I'm not worth the opportunity that someone needs to give me so I can succeed in something, something that hasn't even happened yet and might never," Alex didn't let you linger on that and hushed you until your voice diminished. If he found it painful to hear you talk about yourself this way, he couldn't imagine how you were dealing with it inside your head. "I don't want you to talk ‘bout yourself like that." His voice was firmer, and you shrunk back; it was good to hear above all. "You'll make it. You're worried ‘bout a future you can't control. You're still young, and you haven't even finished your degree. Give things time. Like I said, you're talented, and you'll have good opportunities. And I'd help you in any way possible." Inside his head, he concluded, and in the impossible too. He wished he could hug you, have your body close, and be sure that you were comforted and that your voice was no longer filled with tears, but all he had were words.

Even without a turn of phrase, he noticed you calming down, and he could feel your exaggerated heartbeat through the call. Or maybe that was just his worries. You were a mess. And even though you were frustrated, he didn't want to be anywhere else that night but on the phone with you (even though he preferred you in person next to him).

"Do you think it gets better with time, Mr. Turner?" You smiled; it was forced, he knew that, but he was relieved that you were trying. Then he scratched his nose with a funny look, the way you called him still sending shivers through his body, but he also found it cute how the sound came from your lips.

"The insecurity you're feeling?" You nodded in a mumble. "It doesn't get better, but we learn to deal with it better, I think." You laughed again, with more enthusiasm, and Alex felt accomplished, feeling his own cheeks blush.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner." You said softly, closing your eyes, the phone pressed against your cheek, still hugging your pillow even tighter. His breath truly acted as a calming agent on you.

"Little one?" He noticed you were tired. "You can call me Alex if you want; there's no reason to be so formal." He felt awkward asking for that, even though the whole situation was awkward.

"Okay," you said softly, not quite able to bring yourself to say his name. The way you sounded thoughtful even with such a small word made Alex chuckle quietly in a discreet way. You were so adorable in his eyes.

Silence took over, in the same warm and familiar tone as throughout the call. You began to smell his scent on your sheets and remembered lying there with his blazer before, although for now, it was likely just a figment of your imagination. But it felt so real; you were really drowsy from sleep.

"Turner?" He murmured to let you know he was still there, finding the evolution of you avoiding "mister" quite sweet, as it made him feel less old compared to you than he actually was.

"I've been writing different works; I'd like you to take a look. I like it when you assist me without taking away my freedom." He ran his hand over his abdomen, his body warm, and he felt guilty once again for pulling you into this with him, even if that was your will too.

"I'd love to. I'm free tomorrow if you want to come over." It sounded subtle and right. Neither of you could tell if it was the effect of sleep, but he liked the idea of having you at his house again and being able to talk to you outside the academic environment. You took a while to respond, and he almost took back his earlier words.

"Is it not a problem?" Your mind went back to how he could have someone who was his person.

"No," he said, not sounding pensive, but he was wondering if someone important at the university found out it could give you problems. He knew it wasn't right for him, but he didn't care as much about what could happen to him; you had more to lose than he did, you were at the beginning of your academic career, and he wouldn't do that to you. "Do you think it could be a problem for you?"

You denied it, realizing you needed to speak for him to know the answer. "No, I think it's a good idea," you concluded, deciding that you would make the most of it, whatever it was. It was the first time you felt attracted - you liked him, you were a bit obsessed, you were afraid - and you were almost certain he felt the same way, and you didn't want to waste it.

After a few short minutes, you continued, "I love the way you write about being in love, as if there's only room for that one person in your head, and nothing else matters. I hope that if someone ever falls in love with me, it's at least 10% of how you describe that feeling." He knew you read his publications, yet he felt a delightful warmth, like receiving a handwritten note from your middle school crush confessing the same feelings. He appreciated your work, and your appreciation of his made him feel great. "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new? I won't settle for anything less." Although Alex had written this a while ago, he found himself contemplating how well it matched what he felt for you.

You couldn't find more words, but both of you could sense each other's presence, the subtle laughter, and the soft breaths. Words weren't the sole means of communication; you both comprehended the situation and willingly let things progress at their own tempo. With this feeling of ease, you slipped into a peaceful and rejuvenating slumber, so unaware of it.

A few before this, he commented about needing to dispose of the ashes and the ashtray, and your face brightened in the darkness upon realizing you were right. He was smoking this whole time. Once you drifted off to sleep, Alex allowed himself to do the same, filled with the assurance that you were safe.

…

Your gaze appeared distant, and your fingers, on the verge of digging into your arm's skin due to impatience, twitched nervously. You leaned against the wall, seeking to evade the curious glances of passersby, well aware that your tension was conspicuously written across your features.

"Hey, what happened?" His voice carried deep concern, and as his gaze met yours, you couldn't help but fear that someone had issued a threat you were blissfully unaware of. He didn't hesitate, closing the gap between you, his proximity sending shivers down your spine. He was clearly worried.

It took a moment for you to find yourself as you briskly navigated the corridor leading to the reception desk, anxiety clutching at your chest.

"They're having issues with my documents, for dear God. I need them to apply to some campus. I did everything correctly, notified them of my need for these documents, and I'm still well within the deadline…" Your voice trailed off, caught in the charged atmosphere, your mind aflame.

His gaze remained steady upon you, his countenance markedly soothed now that your anxiety had heightened the stakes of the situation. He adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and extended a reassuring touch, his fingertips coming to rest gently upon your hand.

Moistening his lips and making that soft, almost playful sound one uses to capture a cat's attention, you couldn't help but release a small, albeit apprehensive chuckle, providing relief to both you and Mr Turner; he was doing well.

His presence, grounding and reassuring, helped to temper your nerves. He remained with you until your breathing found its way back to the present.

Glancing around, his eyes found no one in close proximity. He dipped his head slightly to align himself with your level, a tremor of emotion causing your cheeks to twitch. His face and the tip of his nose were red.

Running his fingers softly across your cheek, he offered you a warm smile despite your obvious reluctance stemming from the absence of his hand in yours.

"It's alright. Everything's going to be just fine, little one." His voice gradually dissolved your anxiety and the gripping sensation in your chest. He brought his fingers to his lips, tenderly kissing them before tracing their path back to your face.

First, he lightly pressed against your forehead, then your nose, and finally your cheek before his hands slid back into his pockets.

Unbidden, the thought crossed your mind that he would've kissed your tears away, a gesture of comfort he was undoubtedly willing to extend, if only the circumstances allowed. And then your mind ached at the brief reminder that you had woken up in the double bed in his room that night.

His laughter filled the space, eyes glistening with warmth, and the wrinkles around them adding to his features. In that moment, you fervently wished he could be yours, even as your self-awareness acknowledged the depth of your feelings.

"Where do you intend to apply?" Your gaze descended to his chest, buttons undone, and a gleaming chain vying for your touch.

"Huh, I... I plan to apply to a university in California. That's the crucial one, although I'll be submitting applications to others as well. Missing this deadline is simply not an option."

He nodded in understanding, skillfully alleviating the awkwardness you felt over your hesitant words. You remained unaccustomed to the unwavering attention he directed your way, where your words and actions seemed to bear a significant weight. He made you feel noticed and appreciated, you liked that.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be right back."

That said, he didn't take long to re-enter the room you had left about 40 minutes earlier and resolve your issue. He emerged with a furrowed brow, the self-assured smile gradually returning to his lips as he made his way back to you. It almost felt unfair how swiftly he had solved the problem, but then you remembered that he wasn't known for his friendliness to everyone. You imagined the firmness in his voice and expression as he demanded to know the whereabouts of your documents from whomever happened to be present. A sense of relief washed over you as he asked if this was what you needed and handed you the envelope. With a quick glance inside, you confirmed that your documents were indeed there.

He seemed genuinely pleased to have been able to help, but you didn't quite notice. Your reaction was instinctual as you rose on your tiptoes and let your body collapse onto his, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close. He took a deep breath, unprepared for this, but he managed to keep his bag from slipping off his shoulder and circled his arm securely around you. His nose brushed against your hair, and he hoped your scent would linger on his clothes for at least a few more minutes.

It was brief, both aware of the potential consequences of this closeness. You apologized, although a smile remained on your face. He could have frozen that moment in reality, gazing at you for hours, your short shirt rumpled from your previous touch, knee socks slightly disheveled inside your tall boots, while you clung to the documents he had just retrieved. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was evident how you found comfort in each other's presence. And he easily concluded that you suited California.

"I need to go," he said, his thoughts consumed with the image of you sitting in his classroom in a few hours and potentially at his home later if you hadn't changed your mind. He didn't want to bring it up, wanting the decision to be entirely yours. If you decided not to show up, he'd understand, and you knew that. You appreciated the pressure he removed from you. His desires were quite evident, and even though you still needed to address the matter of the photo in his room, his intentions were anything but unclear.

…

On that day, you sat a few desks behind due to the front-row seat's creaking issue. Every time he entered the room, your attention soared. You enjoyed admiring how he placed his brown bag on the desk, neatly rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, and adjusted his blazer before starting the class. However, you noticed how his eyes searched for you before initiating this ritual, his face stern and composed, his hand tracing his jaw until he reached the spot where he found you, a few desks back. Your radiant smile met his timid one, and your hands fidgeted with your skirt. At that moment, you both knew that neither of you concealed your feelings well. It was evident in the softening of his expression upon finding you and the shy smile that curved his lips; with crooked lower teeth and cute prominent lines. It warmed your heart.

The following minutes went as expected, with your heart racing when he addressed you, and he posed questions that he was confident you could answer or raise thought-provoking ones. You remained addicted to gaining his favor, even though you no longer needed it. There was no doubt you were his favorite one.

"I think that's enough for today," he murmured, dismissing the others, which included you. Yet, you hesitated to pack your things and leave. You wanted to show him that you still intended to meet him later, fearful that he might think otherwise.

Initiating the conversation didn't come naturally. You leaned against the closed door, observing him tidy up the last of his belongings. You felt uneasy, and he sported a self-assured smile. He was yours, soon you'd gradually become aware of it.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence," he offered, approaching you. Your nervousness was palpable, and you couldn't even contemplate forming words. "There's no one on the other side of the door," he reassured, peering through the small glass window. "I wouldn't force or manipulate you into anything you don't want to do." He was cautious, but the idea that he thought you might think of him like that made you shake your head vigorously.

"I know you wouldn't, Professor Turner." His nose wrinkled slightly as you insisted on calling him that. His cheeks gained color, and you loved that.

You pushed your hair back, trying to clear your head. "I just wanted to confirm that you still want to see me tonight, and also to say thank you for helping me after the bar incident. I don't want you to think badly of me. I—" You paused, swallowing hard. Dry throat, just like your eyes, which couldn't stop blinking. His attention was fully on you, and it didn't help. Seeing your struggle, he moved closer, gently removing your hand from your hair. He whispered while still close, "I don't think anything bad 'bout you, and I'll still be waiting for you if you want to be there."

You nodded, your eyes lost in his, feeling as if you could almost touch his skin without making physical contact. Your hand involuntarily touched the collar of his shirt, your palm pressing awkwardly against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the coolness of his necklace. His fingers followed yours, resting on top of your hand with a pleasant size contrast. Your touch affected his body in ways you couldn't fully fathom, but he was better at concealing it. Your mind briefly entertained the idea of his lips brushing against yours, but this thought was soon supplanted by a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your chest met his as in an embrace, and it lasted long enough for you to feel his fingers below your knee, lifting your high socks until they were even with the other. It sent a great burn through your thigh and made you want to keep him close, but then he was stepping away. "I just want you to feel comfortable with me, pet." Your words once again choked in your throat. You wanted to hear him say he wanted you, but you refrained from vocalizing it, and you understood, but you still longed to hear it from him. Just as you wanted to shout that you felt good with him, despite being a novice in matters of the heart.

…

In your imagination, Professor Turner was someone who didn't shy away from the daylight, and you believed he was just that, even though it was amusing to picture a darker side to him that other students described. When you told your roommate that you wouldn't be back that day, and she suspected it might be related to him, you received a playful, "Take care, don't let him pull you to the dark side." It made you laugh and think about how some of your classmates had asked you to talk to Alex about his grading approach because they had noticed his fondness for you and were in desperate need of a miracle. You didn't think your intervention would change anything, but your curiosity would lead you to take the risk.

The air felt trapped in your lungs, and there was still an alert in your mind that being there was wrong. Students were gossips (your friend even more so), if he had someone, you would know, right?

"I thought you might be hungry," he gestured for you to enter. The same calm and gentleness that always characterized his demeanor toward you, as your roommate had reminded you over the phone just minutes ago. Your mouth quivered, and your hands turned cold as he looked at you. His expression was meticulous, as if trying to read every one of your signals. The sensation within you intensified as you adjusted your knee socks, and his attention followed you until he realized how his hands clenched around nothing. This time, it was you who laughed.

"I wish I could say you don't have to pay for things for me, but honestly, I wouldn't have had the money to come here," you explained, with more than a hint that you might be less financially stable than him. The age difference still nagged at your mind, but you had promised yourself to make the most of this situation. He had covered the Uber ride, just like last time, and now you felt guilty about him spending money on your meal, even though you found it adorable.

He was flushed, certainly not from embarrassment. "It's okay, I don't mind. I want you 'ere." It sounded so formal and yet so natural of him, it made you wonder if he did this often; seduce their own students. It was quite a torment for you to add to your worries, had he ever done that before? And why were you bothered by that? Why did you want to be the only one who had ever gone through this with him?

You only realized that you were standing there staring at him when you felt his hand lightly press your back and guide you to the living room. There were sheets and pillows on the wooden floor rug and the light was dim. He had thought about that and it made your cheeks hot, you were unable to contain a smile. Before sitting down, he took your bag off your shoulders and murmured, "Your thoughts are quite noisy, little one."

He sat next to you, his shoulders pressed against yours. Your legs stretched out and your uncontrollable fingers played with the hem of your socks. You kept your eyes on the orange colored juice and some bread, your belly emptying and your head becoming fuller. “I just,” you looked at him, his messy hair and tired look but still giving you all the appreciation. "I'm not used to it, I guess."

"I'm not sure if it helps you either, but, I'm not, I'm not in the habit of bringing students to my house. You're the first one." You smiled, the weight of your body joining him. Alex noticed you becoming more comfortable and brought his hand closer to yours, then you rested your palm in his; bringing your fingers over the veins and calluses on his fingertips. You bit your lip at the thought of him actually playing the guitars in his room. And then you felt heavy once again at the thought that you wouldn't be able to be present in the moment with him if you didn't know if he had someone else.

You were careful to pull your hands away from his, stealing a piece of bread and pouring yourself some juice. His gaze on you was unmistakable, hard to ignore. Even though you enjoyed it, you felt like you were caught doing something bad.

"You can talk to me," he said, nothing but reassuring. "The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable." And he didn't, it was in your head, and deep down you knew it.

As the orange, viscous liquid touched your lips, you noticed his flushed cheeks going harder, even though he remained confident. It was the same Mango and Passion Fruit blend you had at the campus bar. Your face lit up with a smile, and he wished it could always be like this. "This is almost an obsession." He laughed too, relieved that you didn't think he was crazy for it.

He had indeed asked in the following days what that drink was, and he had learned that you always ordered that, he was just trying to make you comfortable around him. Little did he know that it didn't take much. "I swear my intentions were for the best," he concluded to have succeeded as he held your gaze for a little longer, and then your head rested on his shoulder. Your arm was lazy at first but within minutes, it was around his waist, brushing the top of his pants and then pulling your body closer. You felt the scents mingling, and your head grew lighter. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling. Silence was indeed a great friend of yours, something you both cherished.

"Do you have someone?" You weren't as confident as you'd like to be, though you thought the answer was no, you still feared the response. He held your chin close to his, so near that you could see the scar near his eye and the more expressive fine lines. A tear threatened to escape as he appeared puzzled. You didn't like letting him think that you thought ill of him, but you couldn't move forward without answers. "Please, say you don't." Your voice faltered.

He ran his fingers over your face, letting his forehead rest against yours. He definitely didn't like seeing you upset. "I don't have anyone romantically," he chuckled softly, finding it attractive how you nestled into his touch. Even though you were uncertain, you wanted to hear it from him first, and he found that so mature of you. He felt guilty for thinking of it that way, as a warning that this wasn't entirely right.

You nodded, your heavy gaze fixed on him, and yet he stayed with you. "But what 'bout the girl in the photo in your room and the double bed..." Your body tensed, your face pliable in his hands.

Alex felt the weight of it and wanted the words to sound painless for you. It wasn't your fault, and there was an easy explanation; it was a concrete and unchangeable situation, only painful. He held you close when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, with just the right amount of strength, and his chest ached as his own vision welled up. "I don't have her anymore, not anymore," and with that, you understood. His gaze and his voice, the tone of affection, you didn't feel jealous, and in a way, you understood.

Your response was to cradle his cheeks and kiss his face, not liking to see him sad gave you the courage you'd been seeking all along. His arms enveloped you, a subtle embrace, his nose brushing against your thin top, your bodies aligning inch by inch. It felt right, and it didn't seem so wrong anymore.

He chuckled against your neck, lacking much humor. "It's been a while, I'm not trying to replace her or anything." His hand traced his eyes, and you nodded in understanding. You didn't sense that from him. "It's okay, I just didn't expect that and got scared." You whispered, letting your nose touch his while his forehead sweet bangs tickled you. Soon, your fingers were lightly tugging at the nape of his neck, and he didn't avoid your gaze; he only seemed upset about worrying you. Your lips brushed his eyes, tasting the saltiness, making you feel compassionate.

Nevertheless, you let your lips touch his, soft and warm, drawing out a lingering sigh. His grip tightened around you, and with that, your hands went from entwining his collar to pulling him closer, as if you could make it better; you wanted to make him feel great.

He solemnly withdrew from you, keeping you close while planting kisses on your face as he did so. As he pulled back, you realized that your senses were more attuned to him than to yourself. You couldn't pinpoint at what moment during all this you ended up in his lap. You didn't feel bad about it, but you still felt like you should.

"I'm sorry," you began, but he didn't let you pull away from him. He didn't need to explain, but he did it anyway. "I stay 'ere to teach, not because of her. I loved her, and I probably still would, but I'm not bound to her in any way, or sustained by being in love with someone I won't see anymore. I just don't see myself forgetting her entirely after years as if nothing had happened, just as I don't want to make you think this distances me from you or makes you believe I'm trying to replace her with someone else." He was precise, his voice trembling like never before. The coherence as something he had planned to say before hurt you; he wanted to say it but avoided it, and you didn't blame him. "I just want you to know these things." Your response was to hug him, craving the ability to merge with his body. It was dramatic, but you wanted to take some of that weight off him. His broader back, along with the embrace, covered you entirely, and you could feel his breathing calming as your thighs and arms clung to him.

With your head feeling lighter, your face nestled deeper into his chest. Your nose brushed against his neck, his warmth matching yours. The roughness of his baby beard made you smile into nothing. You could swear you felt him shiver. He kissed your face, his lips finding every space from your mouth to your neck, and your jolly reaction was to pull him closer by his t-shirt's collar. Your body burned, in a comforting way, and before falling asleep with him enveloped in you, you thought about how you should have done more or even asked for more. You no longer felt hesitant towards him.

…

Your eyes slowly opened, the lighting still cozy, just like the feeling of his chest. He held you tightly, his chin nestled on the top of your head, making you feel whole as one. As you shifted in his lap, you wanted to squeeze him, feel the flesh of his waist, and unbutton more of his shirt to accommodate your hand. You needed to take a deep breath, unable to avoid the initial sweat on your forehead. He let out a sigh, his fingers tracing your back and holding you as you bit your lip to hide a smile. His dark circles were more pronounced, his skin softer, although his eyes slightly puffy. You snuggled back into him, and he accommodated you, sealing the moment with more kisses.

"I'm sorry, Turner," the muffled laughter left you happy too, not that you weren't already. You ran your wrist over his mouth, he was still fixated on every part of you. In truth, you might not have known what you were doing, or you were just nervous. You didn't want to disappoint him.

"It's okay," he ran his fingers in circles on your waist. Your skirt crept up, and the position improved as he leaned against the wall. You could feel him better, every inch of him, and the thought that you were arousing him made you tense up a bit, even though it was good. He noticed and held your face, his lips touching where you had just tried to dry because you forgot you needed to breathe through your nose when kissing someone, "Hey, it's okay, lil' one. We don't have to do anything you don't want. I like you being with you."

You took his neck, your lips soft and moist, albeit timid against his skin, making him release adorable sounds that made you want more. This caused you to grip onto him, your hips moving closer to his, and you wished he would touch you, even if just for the mere thrill of feeling him.

"Please," you sighed, his face pressed against yours. Your fingers toyed with the closed buttons of his t-shirt as you shifted your gaze to your hands. Alex understood that you weren't entirely sure about what you were asking for, and this sweetly confirmed how much he considered you nothing but a good girl. It was evident that you wanted to be wonderful for him, and it was adorable to see in your eyes how you were eagerly waiting for him to lead the way in this dance of desire.

"I'm all yours, princess." He concluded with a mixture of pet names that both disconcerted and melted you into him. You took a deep breath as the pressure of his large hands adjusted your hips, your knees slightly burning, but you couldn't help but create the necessary friction to feel him better. You could indeed feel all of him, from the light fabric of his dress pants to the zipper, hitting you perfectly. "I know, little one, you're doing so great," he praised, mesmerized by how you lightly closed your eyes and then opened them to him, and he nodded in agreement, acknowledging your success. It was attractive to see you feeling secure and knowing how to make yourself feel good. With your hands still held against him, he intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing the remaining buttons to be undone, and then your palm found its place into his flesh.

He held you tighter, your body against his. "Don't move both together, use your legs or just grind against me, or you'll get tired quickly," he sounded precise, his deep and raspy voice filling you up. You obeyed. "That's my good girl," he said in a husky growl. This effectively worked to keep you going with him. His fingers gripped your nape, pulling your head to look at him, gazing down at your sleepy and pleading look. He clenched his jaw, sure that he could surrender for so little. His lips landed on your neck, his nose burying into your skin, so soon his teeth were pulling you into a light and pleasurable bite.

And then you were his, his hands working on you better than your legs were trying but failing to reach that level. Soon, he removed your top with the same gentleness and urgency with which he pulled you to him just to devour your breasts. His grip traveled to your waist, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin, encircling how hard they were and sucking them into his mouth as if it was genuinely pleasurable for him. The tip of his nose brushed against your skin, and he caused pain by nibbling on the flesh ready for him to take. You found yourself liking how every sound you made was heard by him, and he understood every nuance to repeat or intensify whatever he was doing to you.

You fit him well; being with him and having him wrapped around you made you feel confident. You had been embarrassed to be so spontaneous with someone before, but with him, it was different. His calm presence over you, the tranquility and affection, as well as the satisfaction in his eyes and touch when he saw you well, made you want more and more of him and to surrender yourself to him even more.

"You're so delicious," and he meant it. He squeezed you tightly, and you were worried you might have marks afterward. In a way, you liked it; you wanted to see him sprawled over you when it was all over.

And at all times he paid attention to your high socks, fixing them in the right place and smoothing them so they wouldn't move from where they were; keeping them pretty on yourself.

To soothe your whimper, he nestled his thumb against your clit, adjusting his movements until it felt like it was working for you. Alex was flushed, and you wanted to capture the look he was giving you. He didn't feel entirely guilty, but something weighed on him, as if he were corrupting you; the sensation wasn't bad at all. He pulled the flimsy fabric upwards, giving you more traction, lightly laughing at the pastel color and the central bow, knowing that it would haunt his mind for many days to come when he was feeling drowsy. It was magnificent, every detail of you, and he marveled at having your tired and prolonged sighs and teary eyes, just as he always thought they would be when your weak body collapsed onto his in such adorable spasms.

…

Your body ached, but the electricity in you felt good. Your hands ran clumsily through the pleasurable haze. He placed his lips on your forehead, lingering there until your body melded to his like a magnet. "I need to go, but I don't mind if you stay 'ere, lil' one," he sounded even better after waking up, husky and lazy, yet strong. Gradually, you became aware of the fact that you were in his bed, wearing the button-up shirt that you admired on his body. You smelled like him. You remembered him covering you with it, draping your figure while he kissed your collarbone gently. You were so drowsy that you were so certain it had been a dream.

"Go where?" You asked absently, looking around. He pulled up your socks, your legs entwining with his beneath the sheets. He loved this, wanted to have you there forever. You slept so serenely, comforted by his touch, and he thought about leaving you there. But he remembered how scared you had been at the idea of him leaving without notice the night he took you from the bar. He didn't want to cause that in you again, especially knowing he wouldn't be there when you woke up. "I have to teach in the morning, but I'll be back in the afternoon. I don't mind if you stay 'ere if you want."

"And do you want me to stay?" Your lips quivered; you understood his careful approach to your desires, but you wanted to hear it from him without reservations.

"I want you to stay, very much. I still need to read your new work, and I want to hear more from you." Your smile widened, and your face met his neck. He stroked your hair, keeping you close. You had almost forgotten that you had tucked prints of your writings into your bag to leave with him, or to have him read while you waited for his shrewd criticisms. You didn't care as much anymore; you wanted to hear him. You wanted to hear everything he had to say about you, whatever it may be. This thought, combined with the reminder that he preferred printed works over email submissions, made you beam more against him. He pulled you close, looking at you curiously.

"Okay, I can stay here, old man. It's good that I can finish reading the book you gave me." His cheeks flushed, and he got up, making you laugh more and grumble in disapproval. Alex didn't make a fuss and went to the wardrobe, putting on a clean t-shirt and taking off the pants he had worn earlier. He was serene, and he didn't mind you watching, your calm eyes on him, unraveling with each visible patch of skin. You wanted to scream about how everything in you wished this could be your routine. When you looked around, the photo was no longer there, and it didn't seem strange. In fact, you didn't feel jealous of it. However, knowing that he had put it away in another place made you feel good. You thought you might ask him more about it soon; she was important to Alex, and you understood and respected that. You thought it was only fair for him to know you didn't think badly of it.

"Promise you won't be too harsh when reading my stuff?" The buttons were still opened when he turned to you, his eyebrow arched, and his chocolate-colored eyes sparkling.

"I'm not cruel," you huffed, making him suppress a sly smile. "At least not with you." Your cheeks burned. He went into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he grabbed his toothbrush. You followed, sitting beside him on the large sink, attentive to him.

"You know, they told me to ask you to go easier on the students, at least in my class. They all seem to think you're pretty tough," you mentioned.

He chuckled. You liked this, it was intimate and comfortable. His hair was messy, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled; he was perfect. He wiped his mouth and kept his brows tense, "I'm not; the world is just not as perfect as most of you believe, and not everyone is as good as you." He was such a cute old bastard. You arched your brows, mimicking the expression he often made, and he laughed, softening for you. "I won't harm anyone; I just think lower grades make you all work harder." He clarified, placing himself between your legs, and you soon enclosed him in your embrace.

"That's cruel and unfair, Professor Turner." He kissed your face, seeing that it bothered you more than you pretended it did. "You don't have to agree with me, pet."

"And I don't." You sounded more irritated, and he liked that. "It's not very fair."

He laughed, nodding. "Well, know that I'm not going to change." You shook your head but stayed there. You pulled him closer, buttoning up the shirt just as he did, and then folding the cuffs as you had noticed he liked to leave them. He enjoyed that with a great goofy smile.

Briefly, his mind wandered to how he didn't have another place besides there. He might have already renewed the campus contract and then planned for another season in Europe. But for the first time in a long time, he found himself questioning that decision. He could go to other places if he wanted; his qualifications allowed him to move beyond where he was. Basically, all it took was his own mind. So he thought about postponing the decision of whether to renew or not. Things might change.

"Turner, aren't you going to be late?" He snapped back to reality, kissing your lips before he actually heard everything you said. His fingers played with the elastic of your knee socks, tugging gently and then letting go, causing you to gasp in pain against his mouth. "It's funny how you want to punish your students but don't even care about arriving on time." You narrowed your eyes, trying to sound intimidating, but your breath gave you away quite well. "You look beautiful like this." He ignored the irony and felt your legs tighten around him. "In my shirt, princess," he whispered between lip nibbles, amused at how easy it was to leave you speechless. He lifted your hips from the sink, aligning your body better with his.

"I want to feel you, taste you on tongue, princess, is that okay?" His nose brushed your face, trying to soothe you as his hands roamed around you, feeling you tense with nervousness. He loved that. Your lips touched his, with wetter and more intense kisses, and you felt silly when you realized from the way he was smiling that he wasn't talking about that. You swallowed hard and nodded. "I just won't know what to do," you said, feeling dizzy as you held your breath. "Don't do anything," his hands comforted your body, and you leaned in so that he could remove the damp fabric from under his (yours) shirt. "Just relax, don't think 'bout it for now." You agreed, eagerly watching him kneel in front of you.

You did as he said, settling in more comfortably and following his eyes as he spread your legs, playing slowly with your socks before slipping your legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his nose diving into the area, and then his teeth nibbled the skin as you gasped. He chuckled with delight. "Are you going to teach me how to make you feel good too, Mr. Turner?" He couldn't resist your sweet voice. He nodded, giving a kiss to your center, your flesh glistening in anticipation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, princess." And then that new, wet, and firm sensation invaded you, your eyes closed, your lips parted in a brief, silent sigh. Your breasts were highlighted in the white t-shirt, so hard that they were attractive to Alex's gaze from time to time.

Your fingers clutched his dark hair, while his eyes remained closed right after taking a great look at you, and he released such a beautiful prolonged, satisfied groan. The taste made him a little dizzy, but he loved every second of it. "You're divine, did you know that?" You couldn't respond anymore; his nose caressed you, and his fingertips marked your delicate skin. He liked the time he was taking; it was nothing more than his tongue, and he relished the sensation of exploring you slowly. You also liked it, and that was enough for him. He could feel his chin wet and his breath falter, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. "Don't stop, please." And all you heard was the hum of his confident laughter against you, along with the recent texture of the beard growing, while you only thought about making it easier for him as you spread yourself further and fully surrendered to him. You just knew you would feel the same way tasting him on your lips and tongue.

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods

tagged only for teacher's pet (the one who asked for and people who asked for the part2) : @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @missbabyjay @kayla1717 @ladydraculasthings @tyatthiapoewy @depthhell @hvncae @raven-ql @kittyrob0t @jakethsims @mayaawesome10 @michelleisheres-blog @love-me-until-ilove-myself @est3va @viviannagiorgini

google forms!¡ (taglist)

Let me know if something is wrong or if you're not comfortable!

Also, I'm taking thoughts/ideas for part3 (it'll be the last one, I promise!)

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being Married To Old Man Ray Stantz

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): old man!Ray Stantz x gn!also old!reader (romantic)

Warnings: Possibly inaccurate science words, because I'm a simpleton. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: Here's my first Ghostbusters thing! I've got a few other Ghostbusters fics in the works, mostly Ray-based reader-inserts because I'm in love with him, but I've also got a Phoebe-centric character study in the works that's based on part of her storyline in Frozen Empire. By the way, I loved Frozen Empire! I've already seen it three times, and it's such a joy. I'll try to catch it a couple more times at least before it leaves cinemas. Anyway, I haven't included any explicit spoilers for Frozen Empire in this, so you're safe to read this if you haven't seen it yet. I'd love to write more old man Ray Stantz fics, especially something involving Phoebe. I'm really excited to write for Ghostbusters, so feel free to send in requests! I've only seen the movies, but I plan on watching the Real Ghostbusters at some point soon. Also, even though I took my mum to see Frozen Empire the other day, I still don't have anyone to talk to about this movie, so please feel free to talk to me about it!)

It’s evident that, even after all of these years, Ray is still madly in love with you.

The adoration with which he looks at you is clear as day.

Venkman has always loved to tease you both about how sickly sweet your relationship is.

He will make fake gagging when either of you are affectionate to one another when he’s around.

(He won’t admit it, but he actually finds your relationship to be kind of cute)

It’s not like either of you are overly lovey-dovey, especially now.

Ray’s naturally a very passionate and expressive guy, but he’s rarely mushy.

Still, you show one another how much you care.

I have this idea that your silent way of saying ‘I love you’ to each other is holding the other’s hand, stroking their knuckles with your thumb and smiling at them.

It just seems so cute to have this thing that you’ve been doing for your whole relationship.

Ray knows you like the back of his hand, and you know him just the same.

It’s almost scary how well you know one another.

I can imagine that there’s been a time that someone’s asked one of you a question, and the other has been able to answer it with ease.

I love the idea of Ray being with someone who’s not a scientific mind like himself.

So, if you’re not as knowledgeable about the supernatural as Ray, you’ll still have picked up on plenty of information against your will, and Ray will always be impressed with and proud of you when you manage to regurgitate or understand his ‘science-y word salad’ (as you have referred to it).

He will also find it very attractive when you talk supernatural or science to him, but he tries not to make it obvious.

His eyes still light up like he’s a kid on Christmas when he explains supernatural stuff to you or tells you about a new psychically charged item he’s bought, and you find it so endearing.

Also, I can imagine him practically forcing you to listen to Podcast’s podcast when he discovers it, and you both end up getting really into it.

As devoted as he still is to his work and his supernatural endeavours, spending time with you is his greatest priority.

He might miss being an active Ghostbuster, but the silver lining of it is that he gets more time with you than he ever used to.

Even if you both used to be Ghostbusters, it’s nice to spend time together that doesn’t involve being covered in ghost slime and shouting over nuclear accelerators.

If you’ve not got anything else to do, I think it’d be sweet if you kept him company in his store.

Phoebe and Trevor are your honorary grandkids and you and Ray are beyond proud of them, especially Phoebe, who you’re closest to of the two of them.

Phoebe will always remind the both of you of Egon, so whenever she does something particularly Egon-like, you will exchange a knowing glance, and when she’s gone you’ll end up reminiscing about your old friend.

If Phoebe or the other Spenglers ever want to hear about Egon, you’re both more than happy to talk to them about him.

Even in his golden years, Ray is still the same sweet, passionate, excitable man you married all those years ago.

Sure, the regular excitement that came with Ghostbusting is long behind you both, but you both cherish this quieter time together just as much.

[terapsina]

Ask Game: Agatha All Along:

Fandom: 1, 17

Ship: Agatha/Rio (Vidarkness): 7, 10

Character: Agatha OR Rio: 6, 7, or 8

(from this ask game)

Fandom:

1. ...the moment in the story that I started shipping my OTP from this world.

That whole scene where Rio blows in the door at just the most dramatic moment and the following throwdown fight made me pay attention. But this sentence? This sentence was a direct hit to alllllll my weaknesses.

It immediately gave me so much delicious information. Like, despite all that 'I want to see you burn... or hang... or drown' aggression? that this woman clearly was utterly gone for Agatha.

*be still, my beating heart 😍*

17. ...the world-building aspect of the story I have the greatest admiration for.

That SONG. I adore the way they used The Ballad of the Witches' Road in this show in so many ways. The way we kept getting different versions and the way they were so slightly and significantly different based on the purpose behind that particular version.

Like how the Sacred Chant version was all about the community of witches (and the way that hid the trap Agatha had used for centuries).

The way Lorna's version was full of a mother's unconditional love for her daughter and the lengths she'd go to for that love.

The way Nicky and Agatha's version was about their coven of two (and how even while Nicky was alive, the way Agatha had already kinda corrupted it even as her love for her son remained the one true thing about her).

Just. The way the song informed every aspect of the story... it's frankly incredibly impressive.

Ship:

7. ...the scene that I like to point to as proof that they're perfect for each other.

I could probably choose literally ANY of their scenes to make that particular point but I really like this one.

Like. Agatha has been angry and avoiding Rio for centuries. Rio has recently made it clear she wants Agatha dead (though admittedly knowing her nature this is basically at least 70% her wanting Agatha back).

But despite that, as soon as they know they have to do this particular ritual both of them know THEY are going to be the ones exchanging the brooms. They don't need to talk about it, or discuss it, or consider it, it's just... instinctual.

They are just always on the same wavelengths and it's both beautiful and really tragic.

10. ...rate the level of stupid they reach in their pining.

I mean... *murder threats* followed by...

*Agatha trying to claw Rio's face off* followed by...

*Rio painfully reminded Agatha she's never going to get her son back, a day ago* followed by...

*Rio saying she HATES ghosts* followed by...

(obviously not... no, she took a calculated risk on being able to continue irritating Rio for the next eternity).

Also just... we have one case of a dum-dum who fell in love with the literal embodiment of death. And another case of a literal embodiment of death who turned full dum-dum because she met a very pretty witch.

They're SUCH dumb. I love these pining idiots SO MUCH.

Character:

6. ...the scene that I think shows just how awesome they really are.

(I'll answer this one for Rio)

This is really boring of me maybe, but like.... how do you top a badass show-stopping moment like THAT?

Rio Vidal. Full Lady Death, everyone! *cheers and applause* *CHEERS AND APPLAUSE*

7. ...the scene that I think adds depth to their character or the relationship this character has with someone.

(...and this one for Agatha)

This scene just... shows that Billy doesn't just remind Agatha of her son... he reminds her of herself.

At the end of the day Agatha is a survivor, and so is Billy. And that both connects and differentiate them. And I just find that very interesting.

8. ...a headcanon I have about this character.

(...and Rio again)

Rio absolutely lied about being pulled onto the Road by their summoning spell. She's Death, she could have shaken that thing off with the flick of a pinky but was she really going to waste an opportunity that good?

[rainynightmoonlight]

Omg a event that has song reqs?!!🤯🤯 I HAVE THE PERFECT SONG THAT HAS BOTH ANGST AND FLUFF POTENTIAL!!

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Characters: Silver Kalim Rook

Type: Normal, Romantic fluff. Not established relationship? Yeah idk about that.

Song: Da Capo from Honkai impact 3rd. Its a game.

I may send in another req with the same song for angst. Cause the potential i tell you.

.·:🎼¨༺ Songs from the heart ༻¨🎼:·. | Da Capo

Characters: Kalim, Rook, Silver

Song: Da Capo from Honkai Impact 3rd

Warnings: None

A/U: Self aware Twisted Wonderland Au

KALIM AL ASIM

Kalim was excited while you were using him to finish up the exams for your weekly missions. He was one of your mains, and it brought so much joy to his already joyful heart. This time however, you were choosing the moves and not autoing the battles. Your attention on him made him so happy. While doing the daily exams, Kalims's ears picked up such a beautiful song playing in the background.

“When good old friends are going away, Will you wish them to remember your name?”

You seemed so somber when listening to the song. As if your heart weighed heavy with something but you still chose to smile. Kalim liked it when you smiled, especially when he was the cause of it. There was something off about that one lyric. There was a certain sadness in your eyes.

Did people forget you? His heart swelled with empathy at the notion that you were forgotten amongst peers within your world. How badly Kalim wished to whisk you away and into Scarabia. All of his dorm mates would treat you with such adoration and not a single soul would go on without remembering your name. You were the creator after all.

Kalim made sure that when the last exam ended, he was the one on the victory screen. He said his coded line but when he asked if the opponent was okay, it was more directed towards you. Your gaze lingered on the victory screen. Kalim urgently answered your question. His words didn't reach you but the sentiment was still there.

“Of course I would! And I'll remember yours too, creator!”

ROOK HUNT

Rook had his usual smile on his face, one that never revealed his true inner feelings. He was the only one in the guest room wandering around. You watched with entertainment while trying to decide what item to craft and add to the concoction of furniture within the room. Rook sat down in one of the plush chairs provided in the guest room humming the tune playing in the background. One lyric caught the hunter's attention, however.

“May you, the beauty of this world always shine.”

Rook's eyes widened at the sudden lyric. Shock flooded through his system but it wasn't evident over the screen. His chibi in the guest room froze on the chair it was sitting on. You recognized his beauty. Shock soon turned into amazement at the notion of what you said.

Rook was often used to being the pervaior of beauty, but having you call out his beauty made him so happy. His lips spread across his face. A smile from cheek to cheek was evident. He hummed in amusement, leaning back in the excellently crafted chair. He wanted to pay you back for the excellent song.

His beauty was mostly for you. He dedicated so much to represent himself the best he could. Even before his transition into Pomefiore. Rook looked at you from the other side with such adoration. His beauty didn't rival yours.

“You're the reason I always shine, creator.”

SILVER

Silver was dozing off, much to his dismay, while you looked at one of his cards. His chibi form was on display while you were looking at one of his cards' stats. He was very grateful that you were paying so much attention to him. Music played in the background as you decided what to level up on the card. It was calming enough to put Silver right to sleep.

“When good old days are passing away Will you promise your heart remains the same?”

Silver immediately awoke with his drowsiness now gone. He looked at your calming features. That one lyric replayed in his mind as if it were meant for him. The song continued to play, but that one lyric swarmed his thoughts. Does he dare answer you?

He so badly wanted to. Even if the question was just a song. Even if he was reading too much into it. Silver could have been dreaming it for all he knew. He didn't care; he wanted to express that he wouldn't ever change. 

At least he wouldn't change much. Silver was overwhelmed with happiness that you liked him so much that you didn't want him to change. He was sure you still would even if he did. After some thinking, Silver made his mind up. His little chibi made eye contact with you once more.

“With you watching over me, I can promise I won't ever change.”

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[lady-embers]

SJM Interview and My Thoughts

Court of Maas has a transcript up of one of Sarah J Maas's interviews. There was some things I found very interesting from it.

Let's start with this one:

The "meeting a character and just knowing that they're the next story" screams Gwyn to me. Why? Because she was a new character that was introduced and Sarah had to meet. And Gwyn herself has lines in ACOSF that hint at more to come with her story (and Emeries)

“You had this much to say about us?” Emerie said, choking on a laugh. Gwyn rubbed her hands together. “With more to come.”

The back of her throat ached; her eyes stung. “We’re in a book.” Gwyn’s fingers slid into hers, squeezing tight. Nesta looked up to find her holding Emerie’s free hand as well. Gwyn smiled again, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.”

Also, Sarah's answer on the question if we'll get an Elain POV in the next book was met with "we'll see Elain in some form" which to me implies she's more than likely not the main character & that just adds to my previous statement.

Next we have this:

"She realized she wanted to write men who will do everything together with their partner and not insist on being 'the hero' themselves"

That screams like Azriel and Elain are a no go since we know Azriel likes being the hero when it comes to her. Just look at him going to Hybern Camp with Feyre to try to play hero... or what about in ACOSF when Cassian talks about Elain being captured and this is what was said by Azriel:

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all."

Azriel is "the hero" and will always insist that way with Elain. He's not the one for Elain.

But you know the pairings where the men will do everything together with their partner and not insist on being the hero for their partners? Gwynriel and Elucien.

We already see this with Azriel and Gwyn. He couldn't be the hero for Gwyn when she went into the Blood Rite because of the laws even Rhysand couldn't break. He even tells Cassian they trained them well and to trust in that training.

“There are plenty of other unspeakable things that could be happening to her,” Cassian said, voice thickening. “To Emerie and Gwyn.”

The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. “You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do.”

Also, here are even some ideas of them doing things together that fit with their pairings:

Elucien

Traveling to different courts & explore the world together. Hosting parties and being politically savvy.

Gardening - I actually have a commission of this I'll post soon 🤭

Cooking/Baking - Lucien will want to help Elain and it's something I can see then enjoying doing together given their personalities.

Gwynriel

Spy missions. Training. Singing.

Research in the library for universe theories or general reading & just imagine them sitting up in bed together reading passages to one another, analyzing them, theorizing. Thank you @alex-catlady for this one!

Flying - Gwyn on a Pegasus and Azriel flying beside her. Maybe even making into a race for a little competition? Azriel flying with Gwyn in his arms.

[greenplumbboblover]

Lyra's Yearly Recap - 2024/2025

I actually forgot I did this quite a few times the last few years, but this year I wanted to look back of what I accomplished from my resolution list.

And then see if In can make some of that true this year! (and what else to add!)

2023/2024 Resolutions:

(See: https://greenplumbboblover.tumblr.com/post/738067930777059328/accomplishments-of-2023)

I'm not answering all of them, but I do want to set some record straight!

Finishing LISISV

Haha... yeah I misjudged that completely lol. I got to a point where I lost complete motivation on... well, everything. I had no motivation for personal projects, CC making (one of the reasons why some of my mods in this year were so riddled with bugs), playing games... hell, even interacting with others. Now you could call that depression, but I wasn't showing those symptoms properly either. I found myself in a weird place where, on the one hand, I felt guilty of that I just couldn't do those stuff that I wanted to do, and that then causing me to feel super overwhelmed... yet telling myself constantly that "adults don't feel overwhelmed on those tiny silly things!". I was pretty mean to myself this year, honestly... But all that sad stuff aside! I have made some personal changes in December that are helping me a lot already, before getting also some mental help for other things. But I'll save you from those details. 😉 --------------- The second thing that didn't help was that I would at some point feel a HUGE disconnect with the characters I had in my head and my actual writing. I would make impulsive thoughts, without realistically navigating how it would work out in the future. I would introduce characters, without really giving it a thought on how I wanted them to come across... how to fully tackle certain cases. So! I spent a majority of that time researching a lot of the ways writers actually attempt those issues and solving those. I was hoping to make a post to help others with that soon, since It's really awesome insight at times! And... then there was the whole posing. But I resolved that with the Pose Add-on IMO already! Chapter 10 however, is actually taking a long time because I do struggle a lot with the fact that I consider it my "old" way of writing, and I REALLY want to move on to my 'new' ideas and style. So the willpower is simply not always there.

LISIV PLANS:

Alright, now that we have all that out of the way, here are some of my plans for this year and the story: Splitting certain stories into sub-stories: My current personal problem I have with the story, is that there are some really cool characters, but with the current format, I can't explore their characters as intensely as I'd like to. I also know that I love to jump back and forth from one story to another.

How that would look like is:

Morgana will have her own "Sub-story"

I am pondering of doing the same for Dustin and Zelda.

We travel 5 years into the future, where I want to do more with Mortimer and Bella. But also the Landgraabs and the Alto's.

I am also thinking of making a separate (short) storyline for Gunther and Lolita. The moment I was making the flashbacks, I really have been wanting to write more about it.

Same as 4, but maybe for some other townies! They will be short, but I think it can be fun! :)

Figuring out what to do with Interests & Hobbies

The infamous mod of being delayed... again :p.

I guess you all are probably exhausted of me hearing "no wait! I will finish it!", and then another mod gets released, and another year passes... and personally I have that same thought.

So I am putting the mod entirely on ice. There might not be a chance that I even finish it ever.

However I do want to add something here:

I will be working much more with Stories be told

I am going to be making more hobby items in return! I have been craving that "small but cool" modding projects a lot the past few years. I just like to be ambitious and unrealistic I guess, lol

However, I will be modding WAY less this year due to other factors.

My 2024/2025 Resolutions:

I think I've mentioned this now a lot of times, but never properly done it...

Wanting to write more. Whether it's for the sims, or even personal!

Wanting to get more into 3D modeling. Mostly for myself, but here and there I could probably release some CC pieces! :)

Keep up with Simblr.cc of course!

Post more of my thoughts on LISISV and Character stuff (@nocturnalazure suggested this a while back, but the more I thought of it, the more fun it sounds!)

Doing more Sims photoshoots!

Either way! May this year be your year! Where issues get resolutions and love is all around you.💖

[mias-blogs]

Can I request a hades/poseidon x reader where it's reader's first time?

Thank you for the request Anon! and since you put “Hades/Poseidon” I'm guessing your refusing to one or the other so I chose Hades if that's okay! very sorry if I got it wrong and you wanted both characters, if you did I can fix it up and add 𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘯, (𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ(s): 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴, 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮 (𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘧 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺), 𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘏𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘯 (𝘭𝘰𝘭), 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘶𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦.

𝑯𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒔.

The gods body was hovering over your own, you feel embarrassed for some odd reason, being bare in front of him as his fingers inch closer to your wet heat while rubbing the inside of your thighs, as you felt two of his thick fingers against your dripping hole, making you gasp out a soft moan as he gently pushed them in, wetting his fingers tips and later in knuckles as he pushed them deeper, drawing out soft moans and whimpers.

“There we go, my love, your quite tight around my fingers.” he chuckled light heartily as he starts move his fingers in and out repeatedly in a medium pace, going at the pace you ordered him to go in, if his fingers felt so good, you wonder how his cock will be, you slowly feel your orgasm building up, it's slightly embarrassing how fast your cumming at just his fingers and nothing else.

“I'm— I'm clos-..” you get silenced with a soft yet passionate kiss to the lips, “I can tell love.” he smiles into the kiss as he speeds up ever so slightly, as you soon came down from your high on his fingers, he slightly moved his fingers in a scissor motion, stretching you out to get you ready for his cock, he pulled his fingers out and pressed them against his own lips as he gently licked your juices off of his fingers.

“You taste delicious, my dear. ” he mumbled as he soon grabbed both of your legs by under the knees and lifted them up, positioning his cock against your already dripping entrance, he let go of one of your legs to hold your hand as he pushed himself in gently

“Does this hurt darling? would you like me to go slower or more gently?” he asked as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb gently, you take a deep breath and sigh as you give him a nod, telling him to go on, as he wasn't even half way in, your walls clenched around him tightly, as your breathing got slightly heavy.

“Shh, it's alright love, relax and lossen up a bit for me dear.” he gently consoles you as he squeezed your hand and pressed his forehead against your own when he leaned down, “It's alright, I'll be gentle.” he reassured as he rubbed your knee with his thumb with the hand that was still on your leg and holding up gently, you sigh again as you try to relax, letting his cock slide into your dripping hole that was still wet from your last orgasm.

“Oh, you feel so good love..doing such a good job for me pretty girl.” he mutters as he's already close to being all the way in, your legs slightly twitch at the session of having something so big in you, when he's already all the way in, tears threaten to spill from your eyes, you feel so full with him in you, your walls desperately suck him in as they clench around his cock tightly, he stays in place as he lets you adjust to his size, not wanting to push your limit since it's your first time.

“ it's alright, take your time.” he mutters at your ear as he gently kisses your cheek, looking you in the eyes as he presses his forehead to yours, waiting for you to get more comfortable and ready to listen to your words, “C- could you please move..?” you ask sheepishly as you look up at him, oh, how he wishes he could ravage your insides and make you a crying mess, but no, it's your first, and he should be gentle, no matter how crazy you drive him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“ Of course.” he moves his hips at a gentle and steady pace, being careful not to hurt you, as moans slip past both of your and his lips, you feel so lewd, having a god take you for your first time, and Hades himself never the less, you try to cover your mouth with your hands but you quickly feel Hades stop, “ No, dear, none of that, I want to hear you and your pleasure.” he moves your hands away from your mouth, holding onto one of your hands with his as he gets back to thrusting into you, as you get tighter around him out of pure embarrassment, he moans as he looks down at you, he wants to put you in a mating press and take you roughly, but no, no, he can't, you won't be able to take it.

“ Dear.. lossen up.” he mutters against your ear as the grip he has on your waist gets tighter, you drive him crazy, you try to relax, sighing out a breath as you hold his hands tighter, allowing him to move inside you, in a slightly noticeable faster pace, “I'm very sorry dear.. but I don't believe I'm able to control myself..” he muttered as he grabs at your hips and starts going faster, being careful not to hurt you throughout it, you whimper desperately as you feel his tip brush up your cervix, bring tears of pleasure to your eyes, as Hades is quick to kiss your tears away and comfort you.

“ Shh, it's alright, it's alright, you can take it.” he holds your hand and kisses your tears away, as his cock keeps stretching your gummy walls out repeatedly, you feel so good, his cock feels so good in you, your hand that he isn't holding, grips the pillow tighter, moans and whimpers leaving your throat as you try to take it all in, your walls sucking him in, you feel yourself getting close again.

“ Hades—.. I- I'm close...” you quickly feel his lips on yours, kissing you deeply, “ me too, love, it's alright.” he mumbles in the kiss, as he immediately goes in again to kiss you deeper, your closer than he is, and he can tell, you glossy eyes look up at him as he pulls away from the kiss, and that definitely helps him at going slightly faster inside of you, your juices covering his cock as he gets closer to his high.

As hes about to pull out and spill on your stomach, you squeeze his hand and look up at him with a desperate gaze, “ can you please cum inside? Please..?” you ask as your lips press, he wanted to do nothing more, as he gets slightly faster, spilling his cum on in your wet pussy without hesitation, moaning as he takes his time to catch up on his breath, his cock still deep inside you, he gently pulls out , pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“ You were amazing, sweetie, you did so good, let's get you cleaned up and get you something to eat and drink, yes?” he looks down at you in a sweet haze, oh, how desperately he loves you.

[katsigian]

⁺⊹𑁍˚𖥸 𝙒𝙄𝙋 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𖥸˚𑁍⊹⁺────────

Hiiii everyone, we are so back.

First up, Valen baby. I recoloured his cyberware! All of that golden hardware he has - his forearms, his neural wiring on his face, his piercings, his wedding ring - finally match. I recoloured them to be the same gold as his eyes and he matches so nicely that I've ascended into heaven. I love matching and symmetry in OC designs 🫠

I also made Valen more freckle-y. I love freckles, so Valen's got even more on his shoulders and chest. Lastly, lore-accurate love marks; Valen's normally covered in both bitemarks and hickies. Why? Because Valen and his husband are (healthily) possessive of each other + leaving marks is a way for them to bond (they're also just extremely horny for each other). That bond with his husband is essential to his character, so I figured I'd add them in

More ongoing projects under here ♡

Second up, Vesper baby. Yes, my rarely seen second son is getting an awful lot of upgrades and will be reappearing soon because I missed him. He's back to being pink like his OG version! It'll be a little while yet before I've got him done, as I'm making him a new hair from almost scratch in Blender + giving him brand new tattoos. I'm very happy with how he's coming along so far, though.

Lastly, I'm recolouring cyberware for public release on Nexus! I really needed more variety when it comes to OC creation + I haven't seen recolours of these before. So I figured If Not Me, Then Who. There's two ready to go and I'll likely do more if everything goes well.

And that's everything for now!

Taglist ♡ if you'd like to opt in/opt out, please feel free! As always, there's no pressure to do these if you'd rather not. And if you've been tagged already/have done this already, then feel free to ignore! 🖤

@rindemption @noirapocalypto @westealtoys @quickhacked @cloudofbutterflies92 @opaleyedprince @mercymaker @nightbloodbix @sunites @vvanessaives @skelior @peaches-n-screem @spicyraeman @feykiller @florbelles @aceghosts @riikugan @devilbrakers @dani-the-goblin @elvenbeard @dickytwister @hibernationsuit @hiddenbeks @jerichoes @cybersteal @kharonion @aggravateddurian @hummingbirdsage @archonfurina @vanoefucks @seluned @gothimp @onehornedbeast @carlosoliveiraa @baldurians @thefrostyshepard @balverine2077 @magicmissiled @ancunine @ronqueesha @wormskul @vivanightcity @cyberholic77 @lilacmox @strafethesesinners @vincentmatthews @jaydenborn @sh00kspeared @crookedvultures @saintemarvel

[balioc]

Is this a concept-formulation that's already kicking around out there somewhere? It might well be. It feels like the sort of thing that someone would already have developed. But it's new to me, at least, so I'll muddle around with it as best as I can.

On one end of the spectrum, you've got the musical hook. A hook is maybe two seconds of music, if that. And when you hear it, if it's good, you get a concentrated spike of -- oh, yeah, that's the shit right there, this exact experience in this exact moment is fucking awesome. And then, as soon as it's come, it's gone. All you can do is wait for it to come back later in the track, or rewind a few seconds, or maybe just replay that tiny little scrap of music in your head.

The pleasure of a good hook is incredibly condensed. It doesn't even really extend into the rest of the song, let alone into the rest of your life. To experience it, you have to be listening to those exact few bars (if only in your mind). It has no penumbra, no shades-of-experience that color other aspects of your existence. On the other hand, well...when you're listening to those exact few bars, you know it, and it's great. If it's a good enough hook, you kinda just want to listen to it over and over again, like you're popping Pringles or something.

All the way on the other end of the spectrum, you've got something like a traditional-style TTRPG campaign.

Even when it's being run masterfully, a game like D&D has a very low proportion of that's the shit right there moments, and a very high proportion of tedious yak-shaving stuff. Every so often you get your critical success in a high-stakes moment, every so often you get your awesome monologue or your big-drama scene or whatever...but for every moment like that, there's a hundred moments or more of the other stuff. The commonplace D&D play experience is famous for its vast amounts of OOC joking-around, which is not how things look when people are deeply engaged with the art on a moment-by-moment basis. And, of course, not every campaign is run masterfully. Sometimes boredom, or eye-rolling, is what you get in almost every moment.

And yet people love their D&D campaigns, like really incredibly a lot, and are deeply affected by them, and not-uncommonly have their whole lives changed by them.

The correct model here, I think, is that the pleasure generated by that kind of TTRPG experience is super diffuse. It's almost all penumbra. The awesomeness doesn't inhere in any one moment, or even any one scene or any one story arc. It inheres in the broad strokes of the campaign, in the ongoing knowledge that YOU ARE YOUR COOL CHARACTER and you go on a million cool adventures, in the mythos and the running jokes that add up invisibly over time into magic. And it pervades the entirety of your existence. You can think about it when you're lying in your bed, you can chat about it with your friends over lunch, and the awesomeness is just as much there as it is when you're actually playing. Maybe more so.

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Once you start looking at art through this variable-diffusion-of-appreciation lens, you can see many different points on the spectrum.

It's obvious that a short story is more concentrated than a novel, which is more concentrated than a series; it's obvious that a movie is more concentrated than a TV show. But it's not just the choice of medium that pushes in one direction or the other. It's a million different choices concerning content and style. Lushly descriptive language, in prose fiction, serves to concentrate the reader's appreciation into the moment of reading -- it forces the expenditure of extra attention for the sake of creating a beautiful mental moment, which in the vast majority of cases will be gone and forgotten almost instantly. Abstracted and philosophical language does the exact opposite, pulling the reader out of the narrative for a little bit for the sake of giving him something to roll around in his head. Suspense, and surprising plot developments, are concentration techniques that can have their full effect only during the transition from unspoiled-to-spoiled (and they serve to emphasize and heighten the moments of that transition). Archetypical, iconic plots are diffusion techniques that trade predictability-in-the-now for satisfaction-in-contemplating-the-story-later.

Sitcoms strike me as being vehicles for diffuse appreciation, to a huge extent, even more than other TV shows of comparable length etc. Much of what makes them good is just the presence of the characters and their distinctive shticks in your mindscape, in a way that builds from episode to episode without any particular grounding in specifics. When I think about a sitcom that I like, I find myself concluding that I like the show overall more than I like any single given episode. Which is weird, right? You'd expect some sort of bell-curve thing where the best episodes, or even the best individual moments, rise up above the averaged-out mass of the whole. But no.

**********

Fannishness is, overall, a very diffuse form of appreciation. This is true in the very-obvious sense that you're enjoying the work during a time when you're not actually consuming the work, by dint of consuming/producing fanworks and talking with other fans etc. But it's also true in the somewhat-less-obvious sense that the enjoyment-of-the-thing usually ends up very unrooted in the specifics of the thing, the plot beats and characterization details and so forth. You have a big beloved vibe, with lots of bits and bobs attached, and you can take the bits and bobs you like best and rearrange them however you like best when you're engaging in fandom.

**********

I believe it is overall true that concentrated appreciation is much more legible than diffuse appreciation. More legible to artists and art theorists, more legible to marketers and consumers. When you talk about art being good or bad or successful or unsuccessful, it's very easy to think in terms of "what is it like to consume this moment-by-moment?", and much harder to think in terms of "how does each piece of the work pervade the whole of the work, and also the general thoughtscape of the consumer?" For this reason, concentration techniques are associated with prestige, and high-prestige analysis tends to focus on a work's ability to generate concentrated appreciation.

...I also believe that different people want to be appreciating art, in the ideal case, at different levels of diffusion. There are people for whom a good artistic experience means lots of crack-hit awesome moments, and others for whom a good artistic experience means getting to live in an infinite penumbra, and others who fall at every point in between.

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For reasons I may discuss later, I think this concept-suite is extremely valent to the construction of theater LARPs, and the tension between people who expect more-concentrated enjoyment and people who expect more-diffuse enjoyment is responsible for a lot of the Wars Over What's Good within that sphere.