#after school love affairs

[problematic-yuri-poll]

Problematic Yuri Tournament Season 2 - Round 1

Malcatras' Maiden vs. After School Love Affairs

Malcatras' Maiden (visual novel by Nadia Nova)

Sexual Content: HIGH; Gore: MODERATE; Violence: HIGH // Note: contents in question are mainly described in text.

Mod submission.

Mod-submitted problematic elements:

A doggirl maid is in love with her master and adoptive mother, and overall navigates complicated and toxic relationships with her family.

Official content warnings:

Malcatras' Maiden is a game for adult audiences only. This work contains intense themes of toxic relationships, manipulation, child abuse, regular abuse, dubiously consensual sexual acts, incestuous themes and explicit bloody acts of heavy violence, including death and murder.

Mod-submitted propaganda:

Battle maid visual novel with cool powers... We love messy relationships and toxic incest yuri and messed up broken maid girls... we love Liliana.... trans puppygirl maid who just wants a place to belong..

After School Love Affairs (manga by Medamayaki)

Sexual Content: LOW; Gore: NONE; Violence: NONE

Submitted problematic elements:

Dubcon, probably abusive relationships, background age-gap relationships

Submitter did not provide content warnings.

Submitted propaganda:

A girl who understands relationships as exclusively something that barely exists or a lifelong commitment dates her childhood friend who she was emotionally dependent on in order to stop said childhood friend from sleeping around while both fundamentally misunderstand what the other wants in a relationship

[nadianova]

studying my enemy "After School Love Affairs" for the upcoming problematic yuri poll tournament arc

it was a pretty cute manga i cant slander it too much i recommend reading it and seeing how you feel about it. but when it comes to the problematic scale...............yea right. im ALREAYD STARTING HTE PROPAGANDA. THIS IS JUST TWO LESBIANS BEING INDECISIVE. WHICH IS THE AVERAGE LESBIAN RELATIONSHIP.

meanwhile, malcatras' maiden be like

[yuri-ray]

No-Spoilers Review #3: After School Love Affairs (Uso to Kiss wa Houkago ni)

Content Warnings: sexual content, one scene has VERY DUBIOUS CONSENT but is interrupted before anything happens

Another huge favorite! After School Love Affairs by Medamayaki is a 2-volume romance manga. It's about two girls who were close when they were younger, but grew apart. Disgusted by seeing the other girl date a revolving door of random guys (due to her own mother cheating and walking out on her family), the main character agrees to date her instead.

Is it good? Yes! It's DEFINITELY toxic though, so it's not going to agree with everybody's tastes. It's toxic yuri.

The main lead is Rin Yumeno (brown hair) and the other lead is Momoka Midorisawa (black hair). After Rin's mother walked out on their family with another man when Rin was in middle school, Rin and her devastated father were helped and taken care of by Momoka's family, where the two girls became close. However, they grew apart and Momoka dating random guys disgusts Rin.

She accepts Momoka's offer to date her instead, but Rin's heart isn't really in it. To avoid giving away too much, Rin doesn't really respect what Momoka wants, while Momoka isn't afraid to purposely intimidate Rin's friends... It's wildly dysfunctional in an extremely interesting and emotional way. Neither Rin nor Momoka are really good people at all. Their motivations and attitudes towards each other and others is really a sight to see.

Also the art is absolutely amazing. It's one of my favorite art styles I've seen in any manga, and just for brevity's sake I'm not listing more pages.

As a fair warning, there's quite a bit of sexual themes in here, including one mostly on-screen scene. They're all quite short and they are actually relevant to the plot, but it's definitely something to keep in mind if you don't really like reading that stuff.

Final Thoughts:

Because it's short I can't say too much about it without giving away just about every twist and turn, but it's really emotionally driven and visceral in a way that basically no other series I've read have actually achieved. I love the drama. Toxic yuri is my favorite, so if that interests you, absolutely look into this. That said, I don't believe there's an official english translation...

[fallinglikestarrs]

Me: I am calm. I am relaxed. I am a happy tree. *MC does something really fucking stupid/shitty mistake* Me: YOU ARE MAKING IT VERY HARD TO BE A HAPPY TREE!

[kamyru]

I like a bunch of Voltage Inc guys. They are fantastic men, and their biggest flaw is that they are fictional.

However, every time they say that MC has a part of the guilt when being harassed by other men, it ticks me off. And nearly all of them have scenes like this.

Was it my fault that my ex who was twice my size and older couldn't take no as an answer and respect my boundaries and this caused my hatred towards being touched and sex?

Was is my fault for being harassed as a kid in the public transportation? Or for being spied on in the bathroom of a hospital? Or for being told by a random man in the night train that my place is in his home?

What have girls who were sexually assaulted and raped done wrong?

I do want a man in real life to protect me, be bigger than me, and give the best hugs. Not because I can't take care of myself. But because men take seriously only other men. And I lived for long enough to be afraid of them.

I refuse to think that Voltage Inc men who tell MC that she has to be more aware of her surroundings instead of asking her if she is okay are canon. And I intend to rewrite the scenes where something like this happens. Because it's not MC fault, like it's not mine, or any other victim's.

[8fire-hazard8]

Hey you🫵

One thing to know about me is that I’m a huge hopeless romantic, mildly depressed and I've also been single for the last 18years. In order to fill that void I turned to 💫fiction💫 a.k.a Webtoons. I can't read romance manga, I only read romance when there's color for some reason.

So I've decided ( my therapist advised me to) dedicate this blog to the things I read or listen to. I don't only read webtoons though. My first love is manga and my master ate his girlfriend's dead pet fish 🙏

List of manga I'm currently reading

📖Chainsaw man

📖Jujutsu Kaisen

📖Blue period

📖Spy X Family

📖Dandadan

📖Noragami

📖Gachi Akuta

📖Monster

📖The summer Hikaru died

📖Osho no ko

📖Super no ura de yani suu Hanashi

List of webtoons :

Too much but mainly

📖Afterschool lessons for an unripe apple

📖Everything is fine

📖A whirlwind campus affair

📖Get schooled

📖Daytime star

📖Maybe meant to be

📖Operation true love

📖Can I take it back

So if you're 🫵 interested why not stick around cutie hihi

Let's be silly together 💖

[kahixxi]

My fav school / campus romance manhwa / manhua:

A Whirlwind Campus Affair (Uiyoung)

Secret Love (Ji Chuan Liu)

She's My Type (Roseong)

Another Year Together with the Cherry Blossoms (Park Subong)

Two Steps Away (Lee Eun Jung, Kim Byung Gwan)

Wedding Delusion (Munju)

After School Lessons for Unripe Apples (Soonkki)

He Can’t Be This Dumb! (Navi, Pop)

Yeonwoo’s Innocence (Esol)

[nagisa2345-blog]

💓女孩一觉醒来竟穿越了！古代美男主动要和她亲亲！丨萌宠狐狸翻身记

I so really really really really love this whole entire video, etc On The Whole Entire YouTube App, etc!!!!!!

And Also I so really really really really love this whole entire anime/manga, etc as well too❤❤❤❤❤❤❤😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉😅😅😅😅😅😅😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

[annicaax]

Sei... awww I was so fixated on Chiharu ofc, as always. when I first read this story, I was swooning at Chiharu, but also falling for Sei. I felt so bad for him in the end. Really sad he never had a route. But M really glad Chiharu had a route,...💖 and ASA exists. Man i dunno it just climbed to... like my top fave titles in the app now (especially amongst older ones) I dunno why they abandoned ASA. It was such a great title with so much potential. They made Sei so much into the perfect LI, even OTP like, with him being her childhood friend and all that. It's like his route is canon... like he's the trump card, the special character they were saving for the last... and then they abandoned it all. maybe they decided they'd abandon all titles that existed prior to love 365 launch in 2017. but then thats not correct... anyway, I just love this man n the title. I hope one day they randomly pick this title like they picked scandal in spotlight and update the rest of the Seasons... idk just hoping

This is similar to how they ended ARR without bringing us aizen.. and all those liar routes that existed in the Japanese app. I didn't confirm but I always had the feeling that this was not the case with asa. They wrote off the endings the same way in the Japanese app as well

That said ASA ended at a point where they could pick up and continue at any time and also bring new routes n seasons... so let's see... ( low chance but I am keeping my fingers crossed for this one and all the other titles that lie abandoned)

[voltageapps]

October 12 is the birthday of Shinichi Kagari from After School Affairs 👩‍🏫

Happy belated birthday Shinichi!

[athenaseden]

teya said work wives being together is our one constant and i just think im going to go sob now.

[problematic-yuri-poll]

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

➸ masterlist

“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it. 

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?�� he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket. 

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.” 

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible. 

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you. 

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks. 

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age. 

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.” 

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him. 

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you. 

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation. 

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time. 

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes. 

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–” 

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.” 

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–” 

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you. 

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden. 

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut. 

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.” 

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating. 

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw. 

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes. 

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie. 

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape. 

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you. 

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist. 

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you. 

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now. 

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives. 

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains. 

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

.

.

.

[the end] 

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

��� masterlist

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 02:33 P.M 」

based on this video. this idea has been rotting in my brain for some while :') dad gojo will always have a soft spot in my heart <3

a part of gojo's love entries

your baby’s first trip to aquarium was such a cute affair you were sure you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“waaa~” your baby’s eyes were gleaming with wonder as he gazed at the diverse array of colorful fishes above him, completely captivated by the view.

and your husband...

“aren’t they pretty, hmm?” satoru asked his adorable son with a grin, pecking his cheek and holding him snugly in the baby carrier against his chest, with a backpack of baby essentials strapped on his back.

he was the very vision of a domestic dad, and along with your son, who was dressed in a bear onesie, complete with two little ears, they made a really irresistible pair. even you couldn’t fault the crowd for staring at them.

“fwaa! waa~” your munchkin was squirming with joy, his tiny fingers stretching out towards the sight before him. satoru giggled, moving closer to the glass to give his baby a better view.

“look! that’s clownfish! and those wiggly flowers are anemone! and that is—”

he faltered at a fish passing in his view before deciding, “this— i don’t know, but it’s the clownfish’s friend!”

they are basically the same. your little boy and your husband, both of them clearly shared a brain cell as they happily pointed out different fishes.

“meh! hehe!” your baby babbled away, excited and incredibly happy in his father’s hold, and satoru too seemed to feel the same, as his eyes beyond that sunglasses crinkled.

“damn, my kid is so cute.”

suddenly he dived down and pretended to chew his pumpkin’s chubby cheeks, effectively making him squeal in glee.

and oh lord, the way your heart skipped a beat seeing that. it was so clear how much satoru adored your baby, and it made overwhelming warmth rush to your chest.

“he’s a good man,” an elderly lady beside you suddenly remarked, making you turn to her. “not many men do that for their kids.”

“he is…” you agreed with a shy smile.

“it’s a shame that you only have one baby,” the elderly man beside her—possibly her husband—added. “you’re still young and he is so good with them too.”

your heart swelled and would’ve already burst if it was possible. bashfully, you thanked the elderly pair as they went on their way.

and along the way, you received similar hushed comments and adoring looks—

“oh my! their baby is so cute!”

“how can such family exists?! the dad, mom, baby… all three of them are so good-looking!”

“such a hot dilf! can’t he divorce his wife and marry me instead? i’ll be his kid’s stepmother gladly!”

satoru pretended not to hear, but he clearly held back his laugh. you threw the school girl who carelessly blurted that a pointed look, making her scurry away.

and after the three of you were done walking around the aquarium, you stopped by the gift shop to get your baby his first fish pet.

your son suddenly became fussy, and satoru unclasped him from the carrier. “hmm? do you want mama?” he handed him over to you. “here, here~ mama wants to hold you too~”

as soon as your son was settled in your embrace, he giggled, and you couldn’t help but bounce him and coo. “do you have fun? you do, don’t you?”

it might not visible to others, but now satoru was staring at both of his reasons of being with literal stars in his eyes.

several years ago, he thought his life had stopped when his best friend negated his beliefs entirely, but you were there, holding his hand throughout it all. and then you married him— and then, you gave him a son to dote on.

you keep giving his life a new meaning. and he was thankful for that.

. . . meanwhile, you kept hearing whispers from a gaggle of girls in the next aisle, about how much of a dreamboat your husband in his blue shirt was and it was grating at your nerves so much that you pursed your lips into a total pout.

satoru thought you were the cutest, not even second to his baby, and he decided he wasn’t known for public decency anyway so he dived in and pecked your lips—dispelling any stray thoughts and making you flush in an instant.

“sato—!”

and before you could rebuke him, he whispered in your ear:

“so... baby number two, when?”

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Astro Notes : Short N Sweet - The power lilith holds <3

Lilith in the 1st - Very strong personalities. Gifted in using the eyes to seduce others. Magnetic. Can fight the demons off of you so please be weary of getting to close if you don't want them to see what hides beneath the surface. There angelic, believe it or not. They're not here to see the world as you see it, they have a taboo personality, yes, but its also because they must learn how to live for themselves and not for anyone else.

Lilith in the 2nd - Cash cow. Can basically get any man to give them what they want. They have to be comfortable in getting under peoples skin, because they can trigger people with how they talk. Insensitive? Not exactly. Just doesn't budge and cares to be 'nice'.

Lilith in the 3rd - Creative freaks. Can use the mind in a million ways, but they still seek out one thing that works for them as they are very passionate people and whatever keeps their attention the most they'll go at it forever. They are use to the attention from people since primary school. So they like to hide a lot. They have a weird mind and they don't care to share it with too many people. If they ever considered writing, they could make some pretty interesting stuff. Sibling rivalries are a thing here.

Lilith in the 4th - Tumulous relationships with family & friends. It's because they're the outcast of the group. I mean, they know a lot and they can't stand for nothing but the truth. But sometimes the truth kills, even when they don't mean for it to be. Can be a hard knock life but they make it worth something. They're no angel, just the universe in the flesh. <3

Lilith in the 5th - Captivating presence. Lovely auras, and amazing bodies. Could be good at dancing. Could be a lil promiscuous. Could be a little dangerous. You never know. Secretive/private about their affairs.. But the stories they have I promise you its like reading a novel. Naturally sensual & can't get enough of them, even if you tried ;)

Lilith in the 6th - Goes hard for groups that aren't seen enough. Can have jealous coworkers or people who want to annoy them and get them out of character. Could also have sensual experiences with co workers. Demands compensation. Could be extremely well liked or hated no in between.

Lilith in the 7th - Spicy individuals. People love to hate them. Could have bisexual allegations from time to time. Most people like to be around them but despise them after a while. Sweet as a pie though, most people allow the rumors to get to them but usually these people are naturally sweet and empathetic. Popular loners.

Lilith in the 8th - Strong personalities. Capable of seeing beyond the veil. Has issues with society due to their daring nature but they do come out ready and swinging. Hypnotic presence. Can heal as much as they can poison, so be careful wit em ;)

Lilith in the 9th - Very beautiful spirits who are the epitome of being carefree. The universe takes them wherever their hearts want to go, and the journey is always something that last a life time. Being connected to someone with this placement could give you the feelings of something amazing. Always hold their hand tight because once their gone its over.

Lilith in the 10th - Dreamy auras. Have a knack for the public and the audience can feel their raw energy. Have haters from all area codes, this just makes them more confident. They know how to appease society well, and they can take on roles that others are too afraid to. This is great placement for lilith to be in.

Lilith in the 11th - Could had to fight to keep their self esteem in check. Due to being outcasted alot, they could of been the scapegoat for a lot of reasons that didn't pertain to them much. With time, they learn to accept that their energy isn't for anyone, and that their value is more than what you can define it. Helpful sweethearts who just wants to be around community that gets them.

Lilith in the 12th - The dream world is a nightmare. My apologies to y'all cause I'm suppose to start it off a little sweet. But this is placement of a witch/warlock. You guys have many gifts that go past the ordinary. And you more than likely come up with some ish down the line. There is a time where you will undergo a lot of spiritual refinement to keep your head going. Don't be afraid of what shows up, it might teach you something!

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; pwp, fem + afab!reader, dubcon (reader is drunk af), dirty talk, rough-ish sex, the liiiightest yan undertone. 18+

✮ a/n ; im not a kiri fucker but i . had a thought in the shower

Kirishima fucks like he has something to prove.

That part of him hasn't changed, you think. It's a bad time to be reminiscing about such a thing, especially since your brain can't think of anything other than how good it feels to have such a thick cock buried in your sore, weeping cunt.

Kirishima has stopped briefly, just to bottom out and press his navel to your sex - so your brain has a little space to think. You don't know exactly how you've ended up here after thinking about it for a long time. The alcohol is making your head feel fuzzy and your lower half is weak, might melt into Kirishima's nice king size bed if you're not careful.

An hour ago, you had come off of work and joined some friends in an izakaya. Kirishima was there too, seemingly with his own friends. You hadn't seen him since middle school, when he shorter and more negative. You had a crush on him then, back before all the hero stuff.

It was refreshing to see a boy your age obsesses over something like being a perfectly chivalrous man. You were friend though not closely, and had a dopey school girl love affair that never came of fruition. You didn't speak to him after that, weren't close enough to ask - and watched him grow into a hero through televised events and news.

He's a pro now. He was much bigger than you thought he'd be. You didn't think men could get that big, unless they played basketball or something. He was shorter than you in middle school but when you saw him again in person, he was double your height. You had to crane your neck up just to get a good look at his face. Defined jaw and rugged, boyish charm that made your cheeks warm like you hadn't grown out of being a girl.

You thought he wouldn't recognize you since he's basically famous now, but he did. Flagged you down and whisked you away for drinks and catch up time. Your friends pushed you to go, so you did. You drank and spoke about nothing in particular and Kirishima seemed so enraptured with you - you thought the alcohol had fried your brain. Thoroughly tipsy and giggly, you admitted to having a crush on him in long and unnecessary detail. That you liked him, and seem to still if this feeling is anything to go by.

You hadn't expected anything of it. But he kissed you in the corner of the bar and asked if you had anywhere to be, hauled you into a taxi when you said no and made out with you on the way home. Put his hand underneath you shirt and squeezed your waist, said something about how cute you are. Always have been.

No one seemed to think anything of it when you left. Pro-Hero's escort drunk girls all the time, but you wonder if it's normal to fuck them? You wonder if Kirishima has practice in bring home drunk girls who are too big for their boots and too needy to be anything but sincere.

He's so good at fucking you, you aren't sure you'd mind that being true. Not like this.

He didn't give you any time to adjust to what was going on, every breath had him chasing more of you like he'd run out of time if he didn't rush. He carried you inside, licked your pussy while you laid against his kitchen counter and finger fucked you until you could take all eight inches of him. Was he always this relentless? You know he was never kind, no matter how much he seems it. He was always critical and cunning, but you didn't expect him to be so ruthless.

He doesn't let you off of his cock after he gets you on it. Makes you wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you barely can because he's so big. Makes you wrap your legs around his waist and tells you to hold tight as he walks you up the stairs with his cock still twitching. The whole thing makes your eyelids burn with pleasure, your body yearning to keep him inside of you for as long as you can stay conscious which is barely when you're this wasted.

He dropped you in his bed and fucked you in missionary. You think in the span of a few hours, you've spent more of it feeling his cock throb inside of you longer than you've spent without. He's too big, and fucks mean. There's no chivalry in it, just pure primal desire behind weight and heavy thrusts that make you gasp involuntarily.

You haven't stopped cumming. You've never done that so much in a row. Your body feels nearly numb as you think on it. He's been keep you like this for so long and the alcohol is making you lightheaded. You can barely understand what he's saying except that he's loved you for so long. You wonder if that's true. Your pussy likes it though, clenches every time he groans into your neck after the headboard hits the wall with his thrusts.

He fucks you like he wants to prove something to you. You don't know what exactly. You're drunk and floaty and you can't stop cumming and you can't think of anything other than how much you want him to fuck your brains out. How much you want him to cum, so deep in your pussy you'd have to push it out to get rid of it. How much you want to cum around his cock until you get so fuckdrunk you pass out on it.

A little pleasant catching up and now you can't unfurl your spine from the way it's raised, and your toes hurt from how tight they've curled. You feel ditzy with it. Didn't know cock could make you cum so much you turn stupid and babbling. It's all you've been doing and Kirishima doesn't seem to mind it all. Just laughs at your nonsense words and kisses you with sharp teeth and fucks you.

And fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, with your knees to your ears and your eyes blurry and hazed.

"Kirisihima-kun," You gasp at him, breathless and hot.

"Eijirou," He corrects with a nip to your mouth. "We won't leave each other now. Not anymore."

He punctuates with the promise with a thrust so deep you can't do anything but agree. You wonder if all this is trying to prove his love for you, but how you could that be true? It's been years.

Another thrust makes your lower belly clench, and something squirts out of you mid thrust. You're too hazy to feel self-conscious of it and Kirishima only laughs.

You close your eyes and let him have you. Again and again and again.