#all of that they just take away the moment the series starts

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 35 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're conflicted by your own words, unsure if you can stay away from your husband. There's only one person who can tell you the truth about Bradley, but she's the same one who seems to be on a quest to ruin your life.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, mentions of cheating

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Tramp whimpered at your feet. The muffled sound of the Bronco's door closing sent you to the front window to look out onto the driveway. It was dark, but you could see Bradley's tear-streaked face lit up by the dome light as you choked on a sob. It took everything you had to stand there instead of running to him. 

He was gripping the steering wheel of the blue Bronco, and you waited silently for the engine to start. But it didn't. He barely moved. And you barely moved. But you couldn't step away from the window even as the light inside the Bronco faded into the night. Everything was silent. Your pounding heartbeat was all you could hear as the baby squirmed around in your belly like she knew her father was too far away from her now. Minutes passed, and you sank down onto the couch, but Bradley never started the engine.

You wanted him to come back inside, but you just told him you wouldn't hesitate to take the kids and move back to Maryland with your parents. "What did you do?" you gasped as fresh tears filled your eyes. You couldn't tell if you were being strong or stupid or some combination of the two, but the longer you stared out the window, the more you realized Bradley wasn't leaving you even though you told him to.

Relief washed over you knowing he wasn't running off to Indigo. Maybe there was a way to salvage things. You couldn't take back what you said, and he couldn't take back anything he'd already done with her, but you didn't think you could stop loving him. You didn't think you could separate him from his daughters.

Your emotions were a mess as you eventually left the couch to get ready for bed. After you checked on Rose, finding her sound asleep in her crib without a care in the world, you peeked outside one more time. Bradley was still in the driveway, watching over the Craftsman and everything inside.

You took your broken heart to bed, trying your best to fall asleep through your tears.

-------------------------------

It was cold outside this late in October, but Bradley sucked it up. He was certain you knew he was still sitting in the driveway, and he didn't want to start the engine at three in the morning and startle you. Or make you think he was leaving. He wasn't going anywhere. So he let the cold surround him. 

Maybe you didn't want him in the house with you and Rose at the moment, but it was his responsibility to protect his family. And he wanted to be as close as you'd let him. Between small spurts of sleep, his mind drifted to the idea of you and Rose packing up everything in the house and moving across the country to live with your parents. It left him on the verge of panic each time. He bought the house for you. He had a family because of you. He was living beyond his wildest dreams married to you.

There was no way to convince you he wasn't lying. There was nothing he could say at this point that wouldn't sound like he was trying to cover his own ass. You could talk to Mav or Nat or Jake until they were blue in the face, but if you didn't trust him, it would sound like everyone was covering for him. Because truthfully, only he and Lieutenant Jeffries knew for sure that Bradley had never touched her.

Everything with the Navy took time. Mav was a big help, but a report would need to be written up for formal action. And now Bradley would need to notify someone about the new message Indigo sent with the world's worst timing, but meanwhile he was supposed to carry on like everything was completely normal.

As soon as daylight broke, he rubbed his exhaustion away from his eyes. He wanted to get to base to shower and change into the clean flight suit he kept in his locker, but he had to make sure you knew he spent the whole night in the Bronco first. So Bradley waited until he saw movement inside. Just a quick flick of the living room curtain, but he was sure you saw him. Nevertheless, he sent a text.

I'm leaving for work. If you want to talk, come find me, and I'll clear my schedule. We'll figure this out. We have to, because I can't live without you. I love you.

He didn't expect you to respond right away. He stretched, his body positively aching from sitting in one spot for so long before he started the engine. His stomach growled as he drove, reminding him he didn't get to enjoy what you cooked for dinner last night. He'd been missing dinner too often. It was almost Halloween, and the two of you should have been planning a costume for Rose to wear. He should have been working on an anniversary getaway for November. He'd been fucking up a lot for someone who wasn't aware he was doing it, but he certainly wasn't an adulterer. 

The locker room was empty as he changed out of his wrinkly uniform and slipped under the hot shower stream. Nothing was going to make him feel better if you didn't trust him. Once again, he thought about you throwing all your fancy kitchen gadgets in a box and leaving without a backward glance in his direction. Bradley's hands shook, and he didn't know how he'd make it through the day at this rate.

As he pulled on his flight suit, he thought about going up to your office to wait for you to arrive. But he'd end up on his knees again, begging you to stay with him, and that wasn't what you needed to hear right now. He was exhausted, but he tried to clear his mind and think of some way to convince you he would never do anything to hurt you. But if Indigo already made comments directly to you, it felt like all hope was lost.

The walk to his office was long, but not long enough for inspiration to strike. Maybe Nat could give him some advice. She'd been harping on about girl code the other day. As much as he hated to admit it, Jake might be a helpful ally right now. He was a big fan of yours, and always quick to remind Bradley he'd married way out of his league.

He settled in behind his desk, unable to look away from the wedding photo for a few minutes. You looked perfect that day. You were perfect every day. There was no doubt you'd be perfect without him, but he didn't want you going anywhere unless you took him, too.

"Fuck," Bradley gasped, lungs burning with the effort to hold back his tears. His students would be sitting down to take a practicum exam shortly. He didn't necessarily need to be there, but it would look good if he was. But he'd also have to face Indigo in the classroom. Maverick was still up in Lemoore, and he was the only one who knew Bradley filed a formal complaint.

This was all exhausting. Nausea and fatigue waged war in his body as Bradley stumbled to his feet once again. He needed something to drink. Some cold water. He threw his office door open wide and walked back up the hallway to the small lounge where he grabbed a water bottle and downed it in one go. Panting, he took a second one before slowly heading back the way he came.

He didn't even feel better as he started sweating profusely. He wanted you. He wanted you to let him hold you. He wanted to kiss Rose. 

His office door was just a few feet away when he heard her voice.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, fingers wrapping around the bottle so aggressively, he was afraid it would explode in his hand. He'd been told to keep his distance for now, but clearly Indigo was none the wiser as she followed him right inside his office.

"Sir," she said, voice bold and unbothered. "I thought we could walk to the classroom together."

Bradley spun and looked at her. He really shouldn't be surprised at this point. He also shouldn't be talking to her alone in his office, but she was standing there expectantly, blinking those eyes up at him.

"Unless you're not ready to head over yet...."

Her words trailed off as she casually reached for the door, fingers grazing the wood.

"Do not close that door," Bradley barked, surprising himself with his angry tone. Indigo's hand dropped to her side, eyes wide, but she took a step closer as he backed up until he hit his desk. He managed to set the water bottle down, chest rising and falling rapidly. He shouldn't be talking to her, but he couldn't help himself as he shook his head. "What is your problem?"

She cocked her head slightly, a hesitant smile on her lips. "Sir?"

Bradley skirted along past his desk as she tracked him. "I don't understand why you're trying to ruin my life," he hissed.

Indigo froze before bursting into delighted laughter that set his teeth on edge. "Ruin your life? I can assure you, Sir, I would like nothing more than to have a very good time with you."

Any warmth remaining in Bradley's body vanished, leaving him sweaty and shivering. "That's not appropriate," he gasped. "You're reporting to me through Top Gun, and I'm married."

She rolled her eyes and muttered, "This was a lot easier last time."

"You've done this before?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to the door and empty hallway beyond, wishing he'd just gone to your office instead. 

"I like older men," Indigo replied sweetly. "Ones with lots of pins on their uniforms. And they've always been agreeable before."

"Unbelievable," Bradley groaned, ready to throw away all of his insignia pins and run away. "Lieutenant Jeffries, I have never laid a finger on you. We've never been alone in here with the door closed, ever."

"But you wanted to. You can admit it," she whispered, reaching once more for the door.

"Are you out of your mind?" Bradley's voice shook, but it was loud enough that she froze again. "You think I would jeopardize my marriage for you? My family? The thought never crossed my mind!"

Indigo licked her lips. "I've seen your wife. She's pregnant again. And she's -"

"She's perfect," Bradley barked, eyes blazing as he glanced at the wedding photo. "Do not talk about her. Ever." He squeezed his eyes closed and squared his shoulders before glaring at Indigo. "Get the fuck out of my office."

He was afraid she wasn't going to listen, the way she stood there and stared at him in surprise. But Bradley had nothing left. His fingers were shaking, and he was sure he was going to vomit. She finally turned and marched from the room with her chin in the air, and Bradley turned to face his desk.

Panic like he never felt before filled his veins. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now as he gripped the edge of his desk and stared down at his boots. His body shook with silent sobs as he tried to catch his breath, but his brain couldn't seem to get past the fact that his life was in absolute ruins.

"Oh, God," he gasped, lifting his head in time to see his office door move a few inches. Before he could fully register what was happening, you popped out from behind it and carefully pushed it closed.

"Sweetheart?" he croaked, examining your tear-streaked cheeks before you stumbled closer to him.

Why were you in his office? You were crying, working your hands in front of your pregnant belly as you whispered, "I'm sorry, Bradley!"

When he held his arms open, you rushed into them, burying your face in his chest as you wailed. He had no idea why you were in his office, but if the end result was getting to hold you tight, he didn't need a reason. As soon as you touched him, he immediately felt better. 

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," you sobbed over and over, body shaking against him. "I was so scared, and I look so awful right now. And I'm just so sorry!"

"Shhh," he coaxed softly, kissing the top of your head before letting his chin rest there. "It's okay."

"No. It's not okay," came your immediate, muffled response, arms tightening around him. "I made you sleep outside. I told you I'd leave with the girls." You looked up at him, tears brimming from your eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

Bradley shook his head, bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek. "I'm sorry I put you through this shit. This is so fucked up."

He let you cry, wiping your tears with his thumb as they fell for the longest time. He already felt like he could figure out a way to fix everything as long as you still wanted him. 

Bradley kissed your quivering lips as you started to calm down. "Please never leave me. I'm not going to stop being in love with you. Okay? I just want my girls." With one more kiss, he whispered, "And there's nothing wrong with the way you look. You're perfect."

The smallest smile found your lips. "That's what you told Indigo."

"Baby Girl, that's what I tell everybody," he promised, relieved beyond belief that you witness that miserable exchange. "What are you doing here anyway?" he whispered, keeping you snug against him as you looked up at his face. "Not that I'm complaining, but I wasn't expecting you to want to see me."

"I came to talk to you as soon as I dropped Rose off." You wiped your tears on his flight suit as you added, "When I got here, the door was wide open, so I came inside. Then I heard her voice in the hallway. I panicked and hid behind the door."

"And I couldn't be happier that you did," he whispered.

"She really wanted to close the door."

"She really did."

"I hate her."

"Me, too," he sighed, exhausted from thinking about Indigo. He let his breathing match yours, falling into a comfortable rhythm that he didn't want to let go of yet. "I have an idea. Let's go home."

"Home?"

"Yeah. Let's go get Rose from the nursery and ditch the rest of the day. I just want to go home."

Now you were the one running your hand along his scarred cheek. "You must be exhausted." When he nodded, you said, "Okay. Let's go home, and I'll take care of you."

When you tried to pull away, Bradley kept you close. "No. I'm going to take care of you. I clearly haven't been doing enough of that since I started this position. So that's going to change immediately."

"We can take care of each other," you replied easily, but you were smiling. "I just need to talk to Cat first."

Bradley groaned softly. He was already imagining the three of you at home. He would make lunch while you fed Rose, and then everyone could take a long nap. He just wanted everything to feel normal again. 

"Why do you need Cat first?"

You laced your fingers with his and started to tug him toward the door. "To get the ball rolling on Indigo's spectacular downfall."

"What?" Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "I just inadvertently managed to clear my name, and you already formulated a plan?"

You waved your free hand in the air. "It's like half a plan at best, but it's coming together." You paused. "You know what? I'll just call Cat when we get home. I'm sure we can handle it from there. I really want to snuggle with you, and I'm starving."

Bradley made sure the door locked behind him. "I am in awe of you," he murmured, letting you lead him down the hallway.

"Nobody messes with my husband."

--------------------------------

You felt alive again for the first time in weeks. You were thriving. Bradley never let you out of his sight as he made lunch and burped Rose. He put her down in her crib, wrapped you in his arms, and led you toward the promise of an afternoon nap.

"Wait, Cat's calling me back," you whispered, watching his face fall as he tried to get you to the bedroom. "It'll just take a minute."

"I can barely keep my eyes open," he murmured, kissing your cheek before you backed away. "Just come in when you're done."

You watched him turn to the bedroom, pulling his undershirt over his head as he went. The temptation of his warm body wrapped around yours was almost too much to fight, but when you thought about Indigo, you wanted to punch a hole in the wall. Or her face.

"Hi."

"Where are you?" Cat asked. "I thought I saw you in the parking lot this morning, and now you're magically nowhere to be found."

"I'm at home," you told her quickly. "Hey, how close are you to finishing the new code for the Super Hornet updates?"

There was a beat of silence. "Not that close. We aren't rolling out the updates until the end of the year. It'll ground some of the pilots."

You smiled to yourself. "I want to start doing it sooner."

"Sooner?" she asked, confused. "How much sooner?"

"Tomorrow."

---------------------------------

Hearing that straight from Indigo had to make BG feel so much better! Is this me being nicer? Beginning to mend things? Stay tuned.

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[lvnleah]

Would u write some sort of like teen angsty pregnancy fic? Maybe awfc x teen reader has a pregnancy scare and is scared and embarrassed about talking about it but the team, maybe Steph and Leah and some others notice she’s not been herself for a few weeks and finally after a meltdown get her to share what’s happening and they help her through it and talk to the team doctor and realise it’s all just a false alarm and then go all big sister on her about being careful etc etc

no more secrets | awfc x teen!reader.

thank you for this request! :)

considering making this a series, you guys can vote here!

The morning started like any other day. You’d dragged yourself out of bed, already feeling the nerves and excitement that always came before training in the mornings. But this time, something was off and it had been for weeks. Your stomach churned the moment you stood up, and before you knew it, you were bolting for the bathroom.

Leaning over the toilet, you tried to keep quiet, praying no one in the house had heard. You flushed quickly, wiped your face, and splashed cold water on your cheeks. The last thing you needed was Beth or Steph fussing over you. They’d been on your case enough lately about how tired and off you’d seemed.

You’d been like this for weeks now. You’d missed your period too and had convinced yourself you were pregnant. 

The small bouts of nausea, the constant gnawing anxiety in your chest, and the paranoia that followed you around like a storm cloud had put you off taking a test. If it came back positive, your life and career were over. But living with Beth and Steph meant there was no hiding when something was wrong.

It wasn’t like you had anyone else to turn to. Your relationship with your parents had always been strained, the kind of distance that wasn’t just physical. Beth and Viv had taken you in after things got tough at home, and they’d become like family. Now you were living with Beth and Steph but even with them, you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about what was happening.

The breakup with your boyfriend a few weeks ago had been messy, leaving you feeling raw and exposed. And now, the terrifying thought that you might be pregnant was too much to bear. Every time someone on the team asked if you were okay, you’d plaster on a fake smile and mumble something about being tired. But you weren’t fooling anyone.

When you made it downstairs, Steph was already in the kitchen, pouring herself a coffee. She glanced up, her brow furrowing as she took in your pale face and the way you were avoiding eye contact.

“Morning,” you mumbled, grabbing a banana to avoid her scrutiny.

“Morning,” Steph replied slowly, her eyes narrowing. “You alright? You look a little…pale.”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, taking a bite of the banana to prove your point. “Just a bit of match-day nerves.”

Beth wandered in, still in her pyjamas, and immediately zeroed in on you. “You sure you’re okay, Y/N? You’ve been acting weird for weeks now.”

“I’m fine!” you snapped, a little too harshly. Both of them exchanged a look, but thankfully, they didn’t push it.

At the stadium, you thought you’d gotten away with it. Warm-ups were rough, you couldn’t focus. Your legs felt heavy, and the nausea lingered but you powered through. Until it all became too much.

During a passing drill, you doubled over, hands on your knees, trying to steady your breathing. Leah jogged over, her face a mixture of concern and confusion.

“Y/N, what’s going on? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, straightening up too quickly and swaying on your feet. Leah caught your arm, steadying you as she called over Kim.

She crouched in front of you, “Y/N, talk to me. What’s going on? Are you sick because if you are, it's okay to sit the game out you know?”

You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. “I… I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Bullshit,” Katie said bluntly, from beside Kim. “You’ve been off for weeks, and now you’re about to keel over in training. What’s really going on?”

The pressure was too much. Before you could stop yourself, the tears started falling. Kim guided you off the pitch and into the locker room, Steph, Beth and Leah following close behind. The rest of the team stayed back, their worried whispers fading as the door closed behind you.

In the quiet of the locker room, Steph sat beside you, her hand on your back. “Y/N, you don’t have to go through whatever this is alone. Just tell us what’s going on.”

You hesitated, your chest tight with fear and shame. But the concern in their eyes finally broke down the walls you’d built.

Through gasping sobs, you told them everything. The breakup with your boyfriend, the fear that you might be pregnant, and the weeks of sleepless nights wondering what you’d do if the test came back positive.

“I-I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared. And embarrassed. What if I am pregnant?”

Kim knelt in front of you, her hands on your knees as she looked up at you. “Y/N, first of all, you’re not alone in this. We’ve got you, okay? Second, we’re going to figure this out. One step at a time.”

Leah nodded. “We’ll go to the team doctor. She’s discreet, you know she is, and she’ll help you figure out what’s going on. No judgment, no pressure.”

You nodded hesitantly, wiping at your face with trembling hands. “I-I just… I don’t know how I let this happen,” you whispered, your voice breaking again. “I’m so stupid, I should’ve been more careful and—”

Beth crouched in front of you before cutting you off, “Hey, none of that. You made a mistake and guess what? You’re human. But now you’ve got us, and we’re going to deal with this together.”

Steph pulled you into a hug and squeezed you. “And if it’s negative, we’ll have a little chat about being safe in the future. But no lectures until we know, yeah?”

A small, shaky laugh escaped your lips, and Leah gave you an encouraging smile. “There we go, there’s that smile,” she said. “Now come on. Let’s get this sorted. And after, we’ll eat some ice cream and watch those awful MTV shows you like. Sounds like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you murmured, feeling the first bit of relief you’d had in weeks.

The trip to the doctor felt like a blur, Beth, Steph and Leah stayed by your side. The test itself was quick, though waiting for the results was agonizing. Steph kept a steadying hand on your knee, while Beth cracked silly jokes to keep your mind occupied. Leah was just as nervous as you. 

Finally, the doctor returned, her expression calm and professional. “It’s negative,” she said simply, “I think you might’ve pushed yourself a little too hard lately and that’s why you’ve missed a few periods. A bit of stress.” 

Tears spilt over again, this time from a mixture of relief and overwhelming gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking at the girls who had been with you every step of the way.

Back at the house, Leah did exactly what she promised. Ice cream in hand, terrible reality TV playing in the background. But later, when you were curled up under a blanket, Steph gently brought up the conversation.

“Alright,” she said softly, sitting down beside you. “Now that the panic is over, we’re going to talk about being safe, yeah? We’re not judging you, Y/N, but you need to look after yourself. You’re young and talented, and you’ve got your whole career ahead of you. This kind of scare? Let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again, yeah?” She said gently. 

Beth chimed in from the kitchen. “And if you ever feel like you’re drowning like that again, you come to us. No matter what. We’re here, Y/N. We’ve got you.”

You nodded, feeling more secure than you had in months. “I promise,” you said, meaning it this time. 

“No more sleeping with stupid boys, yeah?” Leah added, “Never liked him anyways, you having to have him in your life forever would be hell.”

“The sex wasn't even that good,” you laughed, “faked the orgasm and everything.”

The room erupted into laughter, the tension breaking completely. Leah nearly choked on her ice cream, Beth leaned against the counter, shaking her head with a grin, and Steph fell back against the couch.

“Wait, wait,” Beth managed between laughs. “You faked it and still thought he might’ve gotten you pregnant?”

“I know, I know,” you groaned, covering your face with a pillow. “Don’t rub it in.”

“Oh, we’re absolutely rubbing it in,” Leah teased, her smirk widening. “If you’re gonna put yourself in this kind of drama, at least make sure it’s with someone who knows what they’re doing!”

Steph, recovering, wiped her eyes and patted your leg. “Alright, lesson learned, huh? ”

You laughed, finally feeling light again. “Maybe you need to interview them for me next time.”

Beth grinned. “Oh, don’t worry, we will. Applications will be reviewed by the whole team. If they survive Katie grilling them, then maybe, maybe, they’ll get past us.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you said, still smiling. “No more bad decisions, I promise.”

Leah leaned back against the couch, a smug expression on her face. “Good. Because we’ve got your back, Y/N. No matter what. But also, no more fake orgasms, yeah? Let’s set the bar higher.”

You threw a pillow at her, laughter filling the room again. For the first time in weeks, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosened. You knew things wouldn’t always be easy, but you now knew you always had Steph, Beth and Leah in your corner. 

[turtle-paced]

Have you ever felt like Martin doesn't like Cersei? The way he writes about her made me question? I mean she is both evil and stupid and it seems like we are supposed to laugh at her.

Cersei is pretty evil, and while I don't believe she's stupid, it's hard not to laugh (incredulously or otherwise) at her many, many bad ideas over the course of the series. Especially in AFFC.

But it's also clear to me that GRRM has compassion for this villain he's created - and that he has right from the start.

Let's put this under a cut for domestic violence and sheer length.

Ned touched her cheek gently. "Has he done this before?" "Once or twice." She shied away from his hand. "Never on the face before. Jaime would have killed him, even if it meant his own life." Cersei looked at him defiantly. "My brother is worth a hundred of your friend." Eddard XII, AGoT

GRRM chooses to frame the pivotal confrontation between Ned and Cersei with the reality of the domestic violence Cersei has experienced. Whatever else happens in that scene, whatever else she's done that might or might not be justified, the author makes sure the reader knows, Ned knows, that Cersei has good reason to hate Robert.

When she hesitated, then sat, Tyrion knew she was lost, despite her loud declaration of, "I will not marry again!" "You will marry and you will breed. Every child you birth makes Stannis more a liar." Their father's eyes seemed to pin her to her chair. Tyrion III, ASoS

This is re-emphasised as Tyrion witnesses Tywin's abuse of Cersei. Even Tyrion, who also has good reason to hate Cersei, cannot help but see how their father completely ignores Cersei's desires, reduces her autonomy to rubble, and above all makes her feel small. This is quite deliberately in Tyrion's PoV to make that dissonance stronger. Cersei is awful, but Tyrion can take no satisfaction in Tywin mistreating her.

Similarly,

His sister sat in a puddle of wine, cradling her son's body. Her gown was torn and stained, her face white as chalk. A thin black dog crept up beside her, sniffing at Joffrey's corpse. "The boy is gone, Cersei," Lord Tywin said. He put his gloved hand on his daughter's shoulder as one of his guardsmen shooed away the dog. "Unhand him now. Let him go." She did not hear. It took two Kingsguard to pry loose her fingers, so the body of King Joffrey Baratheon could slide limp and lifeless to the floor. Tyrion VIII, ASoS

Cersei's grief over watching her son murdered in front of her is a key character moment for her. Is Joffrey a good person? No. Is Cersei's immediate response of demanding Tyrion's arrest a good and just idea? No. Is that grief still real? Absolutely.

It was more than Cersei could stand. I cannot let them see me cry, she thought, when she felt the tears welling in her eyes. She walked past Ser Meryn Trant and out into the back passage. Alone beneath a tallow candle, she allowed herself a shuddering sob, then another. A woman may weep, but not a queen. Cersei III, AFFC

That lasts. It's not healthy but it is genuine. The author isn't putting this in here so we laugh at her. The author is putting this here to help us remember throughout the parade of evil and stupid crap Cersei's about to do that Cersei is a human with human emotions.

And when all that crap has backfired on Cersei, the author makes sure we know that the punishment inflicted on her is not for her sins but instead for her biological sex. He shows her break from that treatment.

Words are wind, she thought, words cannot hurt me. I am beautiful, the most beautiful woman in all Westeros, Jaime says so, Jaime would never lie to me. Even Robert, Robert never loved me, but he saw that I was beautiful, he wanted me. She did not feel beautiful, though. She felt old, used, filthy, ugly. Cersei II, ADWD

The walk of shame is just misogyny, pure and simple, nothing to do with what Cersei's actually done wrong. It is deliberately not karma out to get Cersei. It is deliberately not comeuppance. It is a reminder that Cersei has a point all those times when she points out she's been treated differently because of her sex - even if it's not the whole of the reason people don't respect her.

Even if a reader doesn't think Cersei deserves mercy, even if a reader finds her political bumbling funny, there's a lot around her that shows us that the reader wants us to think carefully about what made Cersei both a horrible person and a horrible politician. She is most definitely not there just to be the butt of the author's joke. That's Victarion.

[accio-victuuri]

January 2025 CPNs round-up 🚥

The first month of the year went by just like that?! but we are so lucky cause in 1 month we got 2 LRLG submissions and 2 events that they both attended. What a great way to start 2025!

• starting off the year strong with CCTV series new year greetings from our dear actors

• guo jing x xie yun new cp

• i am not here nye performance candies

• coco crush ring importance for bobo’s performance during nye 💍

• 010225 lrlg submission translation and the cpns involved

• amiri logo x wo men writing

• paparazzi that the last time he saw xz chatting so much was in 2018 with wyb

• the 2018 dinner with cql crew video released 🥹🙏��� - there is some side cpn to this cause it was released not even 30 minutes after ybo refuted a rather absurd dating rumor. Liu dachui is the pap that released it and he is a v popular blogger. DH also guested on his channel before so you can say they have some friendly connection. i know bloggers like LDC are a pain in the ass for companies but you gotta keep your enemies close am i right? so some cpfs are thinking that the timing of release was to take some attention away from the hs. which didn’t actually cause the HS was up for a long time. take this with a grain of salt. 🍉

• wyb’s main accessory for his NYE performance was a hat brooch. this reminds us of the whole hat cpn😂

• same light leak editing design for these two videos between ybo and xzs. it’s not a secret that we think they sometimes share staff when it comes to editing. and it’s a rainbow? 🌈

of course other artists has access to this video editor design or whatever. anyone could make it logically. but why are the similarities always between them?

• coincidental matching years later

• speculations from xz’s portrait magazine interview

• weibo night candies part one / part two

there is also this that i wasn’t able to add, how they have the same staff assisting them. idk if this person also assisted other artists but it’s interesting how she was assigned to both xz and wyb.

there’s also some unsavory twisting the narrative thing that solos are doing regarding the seats. bec they are so obssessed with us and our candies lol.

• cpns from xz’s portrait magazine feature

• ybo has a movie ticket theme

• why do they twist their feet like that 🙃🙃🙃

• minor cpns from china internet and audiovisual festival

• 1/28/25 lrlg 🎉🧧🧧🧧 - this one is mostly incoherent because of the very random convos with no context. which is the norm for lrlg. but there are sweet moments too! they care for each other so much 🥹🥹🥹🥹

• 1/29, jam hsiao reposted his collab stage with yibo and bobo commented with this:

mr xiao! hahahahahaha! what a coincidence. of course we are just clowning!

-END.

See you all next month! 👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 64

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,775ish

Summary: Laura plans a movie night, hoping it forces you and Logan to start making moves.

Notes: It's definitely a shorter chapter, but I hope it's still good! I'm so excited to show you the rest of the series. Ending 2 will have two chapter 71's (the final chapter(s)). One will be an angsty ending and one will be a fluffy one.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Laura was watching you work in the kitchen the following morning.

“So…” She dragged out, “You’re calling him Lo now…”

“It’s just a nickname, Laura,” you brushed off. “Like how I call you kiddo and Wade calls me Buttercup.”

“But it’s not, mom. I see the way you look and act around him. It’s becoming more than a friendship for you.”

You shook your head. “You’re just seeing things.”

“May I remind you that I was there when you and dad got married. I think I know what you look like when you’re in love and when a Logan is in love with you.”

“I’m not in love with him.”

“Yet.”

“Laura,” you sighed.

“I’ll drop it. Well, until tonight.”

“Tonight? What’s happening tonight?”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

~~~

Laura was coming home from work when she gave Logan a call.

“Laura?” He immediately picked up, sounding concerned. “What’s going on? Is something wrong? Is it your mom?”

She forced herself to not laugh at his rapid fire questions. “Mom’s fine,” she replied. “I’m fine. Just calling to make sure you’re coming for movie night tonight.”

“Didn’t think we were doing it without Wade.”

“I don’t see why not. Unless you don’t want to spend time with my mom and I?”

“No! Uh, I mean, of course I want to spend time with your mom… and you!”

Laura bit back a laugh once again. “Okay. So we’ll see you after work?”

“Yeah, of course. See you then, kid.”

Laura ended the call, finally laughing to herself as she thought about how fun this was going to be.

~~~

“Hey, mom,” Laura greeted as she entered the apartment.

“Hey, kiddo,” you replied. “How was your day?”

“It was good. I’m tired and ready for movie night.”

“Movie night? Are we still doing it? I don’t think Wade would be too happy about that.”

“Oh, come on, mom. It’s my turn to pick the movie and, besides, Logan already said he was coming.”

“Oh?”

Laura smirked. “Yeah, Lo’s coming over.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way she teased you. “What movie are you picking tonight?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m not giving anything away until Logan’s over.”

“I swear, if you choose a horror movie,” you shake your head. “You know how I feel about those. We’ve seen too many horrors in our own lives to watch those. Plus, they are actually scary.”

“I told you, mom, you’re just going to have to wait.”

~~~

Logan stepped into your apartment, relishing in how fast the tension seemed to leave him. He was spending more time at your apartment than his, but he wasn’t complaining and, as of now, neither were you and Laura.

“Hey, doll,” he said as he came over to where you were in the kitchen. “Need any help?”

“Lo,” you smiled. “Thank you for the offer, but dinner’s all done. The homemade pizza is just keeping warm in the oven. How was work?”

“Fine. Just work. How was your day, darlin’?”

“It was good. Stuck around home today.”

“Good. You need days were you take it easy.”

The genuine concern shining in Logan’s eyes had you catching your breath. You could tell that he seriously wanted you to take it easier and rest more. You knew that he was constantly worried about you, but you didn’t know to what extent.

“Good! Logan’s here!” Laura broke the quiet moment that had fell between you and Logan in the kitchen. “Let’s get eating and then it’s movie night!”

“Gonna tell us what we’re watching, kid?”

“After dinner!”

~~~

“Okay, I picked a horror movie for tonight,” Laura stated as she and Logan finished up cleaning the dishes.

“What?” You questioned. “You know that I’m not a fan of those films.”

“Why not, doll?” Logan questioned.

“It’s just… I… Well…” you sighed. “I’ve seen enough horrors in my life. Yes, I know that it’s not exactly the same but it’s enough. I’m not a fan.”

“Don’t worry, mom,” Laura smirked. “Logan and I will protect you. Right, Logan?”

“Uh, yeah,” Logan nervously coughed, “of course.”

“It’s settled then! Horror movie it is! I’ll take the chair, you two can have the couch.”

Laura plopped down in the chair and pulled a blanket over her lap. You bit your lip as you slowly sat down on one end of the couch. Logan glanced at the spot immediately next to you, silently debating on if he should sit there. He decided to let you have some space, not wanting to force proximity upon you. Logan sat down on the opposite end of the couch. You were surprised at how disappointed you felt when he didn’t choose to sit right beside you. Laura leaned over and flipped off the lights after starting the movie.

Logan’s focus wasn’t on the movie, but on you. His hands were grasping at his jeans as he tried to prevent himself from reaching out and pulling you into his lap at every wince and whimper that came from you. He hated that Laura put this on, knowing that you didn’t enjoy these types of movies.

Suddenly, there was a big jump scare that practically had you jumping across the couch. You reached out and your hand gripped onto Logan’s bicep in a death grip. Even through his shirt, he could feel your skin heating up. Or was it his because you were touching him? Before his brain could fully short-circuit, Logan moved closer.

“Sorry,” you whispered, yanking your hand away.

He shook his head. “No need, doll,” he quietly responded. 

You kept your hands tucked between your thighs, feeling embarrassed for gripping his arm like that. But, all too soon, your were jumping again, scared of what was playing on the screen. Your arm seemed to have a mind of its own as it slipped through Logan’s. Your head buried into his bicep. Logan tensed, though you didn’t notice. You were using him to feel safe, right? That meant you felt safe with him. Logan kept still, not wanting you to pull away from him. 

“It’s… uh, over now,” Logan told you. “You can look.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, pulling away and leaving Logan longing for your touch.

The two of you were sitting much closer than you were before, sides pressed together. Logan clenched and unclenched his fists as he tried to not overthinking it all. You were taking measured breaths, now thinking more about how close you were to Logan than the movie. Another scary moment had you jumping again and practically shoving yourself into Logan. His arm wrapped around you quickly as your face pressed into his shoulder.

“I got you, darlin’,” he whispered, absentmindedly pressing comforting a kiss to your head. “I’ll protect you.” You nodded as he pulled you closer.

For the next few scenes, Logan told you when to look and when to look away. Laura watched it all with a smirk on her face. Suddenly, she decided that her job was done and she stood up, faking a big stretch and yawn.

“I’m tired,” she announced. “I’m going to bed.

“What?” You questioned. “You chose this awful movie and now you’re just going to leave?”

“Logan’s here. You’ll survive. Night.” Then she quickly disappeared down the hall before anything else could be said.

“We could… uh,” Logan cleared his throat, “we could change the movie. If you want.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” You questioned. “I really don’t think I can sleep after that.”

“Of course.”

You leaned over and took the remote from Laura’s chair before leaning back into Logan, not even thinking twice. “You care what I put on?”

“Not at all.”

You nodded and quickly turned on your favorite Disney animated movie. Logan reached over to the basket of blankets on the side and threw it over the two of you. You tossed him a thankful smile before leaning further into him and focusing on the screen. As the movie played, Logan could feel you relax more and more until he heard the sound of soft snores coming from you. He looked down and you were sound asleep. You looked so peaceful. The lines on your face were relaxed. Your mouth was slightly open. Logan didn’t realize how in pain you always looked until this moment and it broke his heart. He figured you probably didn’t realize how much pain you were in all the time, growing used to it.

Logan thought about carrying you to your bed and tucking you in, but he didn’t want to break this moment just yet. He was enjoying having you in his arms, relaxed, and where he could protect you. It would put you to bed once the movie was done. At least that’s what he told himself. As the movie continued, Logan’s eyes grew heavier until he couldn’t fight it anymore. His head fell back and he was asleep.

~~~

Laura woke up in the morning to find the tv still on and you and Logan cuddled together, asleep on the couch. She smiled, happy to see her mom so relaxed. She took out her phone and quickly snapped  Deciding to go grab some breakfast for everyone, Laura slipped her jacket and shoes on. Before she could open the door, it swung open, barely missing her.

“Your Savior has arri—“ Before Wade could finish, Laura kicked him out into the hallway and carefully shut the door behind him. “Hey, Little Wolf, that wasn’t a very nice welcome! Especially after putting all that work in to find a cure for our Little Flame.”

“Don’t care,” she responded. “I can’t have you waking them.”

“Them? What are you talking about?”

She motioned towards the door with her head. “See for yourself.”

Wade went over to the door and opened it enough to peek his head in. “Oh, shit!” His eyes widened as he saw you and Logan asleep on couch. “Are they— Did they— when?”

Laura pulled him away from the door and shut it again. “Nothing’s happened. They’re still just friends. We had a movie night last night and they fell asleep, that’s all.”

“Glad I didn’t miss all the good stuff then.”

“There’s still plenty of time for you to help with the matchmaking.”

“Oh, I plan on it.”

“So, did you do it? Did you find a cure for my mom?”

“I think so, Little Wolf.�� He slipped a vial of red liquid out of his Deadpool suit. “If this works, she’ll have her full powers again and we will get our Little Flame for a long time.”

“I hope it works.”

“Me, too, Little Wolf. Me, too.”

next chapter >

[bugisastranger]

a/n: prompt once again from @scealaiscoite | i haven't written for steve rogers (or watched any of his movies) since like 2021 so this is all off memory. third installment of my valentine's day series <3

"you're telling me you really have nowhere better to be than here today?"

steve says as the elevator doors open, taking a few steps forward. he turns, about to reach for the button, when he realizes you're going to the same floor.

"you're here, too. i don't wanna hear it."

"yeah, well.. i'm still figuring all this out," steve says, his smirk barely noticeable. he leans against the wall of the elevator, which suddenly feels smaller than you'd remembered.

"is that what you've been doing?" you couldn't remember the last time steve mentioned seeing someone, if he ever had.

"yes."

you hum in response, letting his answer settle into the silence. and then you think... "i could teach you." that's not the right thing to say, is it? "sorry, i meant—i meant that i could be like a consultant. help you out. plenty of girls must be fawning over captain america."

steve scoffs. "that's the problem, though. isn't it? i'm just a guy." the elevator doors open with a ding and he waits for you to exit first. "i appreciate the offer."

he walks down the hallway beside you, and you start to realize this is the most you've ever really talked to steve about himself. "i'm sure someone can look past the red, white, and blue."

"can you?" he counters, holding open the glass door for you. it's a serious question, but he asks it like he already knows the answer—that you can't.

"sure, i can."

steve stops, grabbing your arm lightly to make you look up at him. "okay. what do you see?" you see that his hair is blonder than you remember. you see all the details in his eyes, the different shades of blue.

"i see a guy," you say. he drops his hand from your arm, smiling and looking to the side.

"touché."

you remember what you're here for, to work. but steve seems stuck in this conversation, so you are too. it's not unfamiliar that you're so drawn to him, but there's something more today, like he's magnetic. "what do you see in me?"

there's an almost awkward silence as he looks at you, almost studying your features. it's clear that he's thinking something, that he has a real answer, but he says, "a romance consultant."

"wow. that's all?" you chuckle, leaning against the wall.

"no, i..." he starts. his hands move from his pockets up to his hips, and it seems like he's trying to decide whether or not to continue. then, he catches your eyes, and that seems to make the decision for him. "i see someone too good to be spending valentine's day alone."

"well, you're here. i'm not exactly alone."

"you know that's not what i meant."

"i know. i'm just saying, i don't have to be. alone, i mean."

"i don't have flowers or anything." it almost sounds like an apology, like he should've foreseen this, even if there was no way to.

"that's okay. your company is enough."

"you should be getting flowers." he takes a step closer. "and chocolate." and he takes another step. "and... i don't know, what do people do on valentine's day? go to dinner? get jewelry?"

"they kiss."

"is that what you want?"

you nod, and steve throws caution to the wind. before you can blink, one of his hands is on your waist, the other holding the side of your head. he doesn't give you an opportunity to reconsider, his lips are pressed against yours like he's been waiting a lifetime for this moment. when he pulls away, it feels like you'd been kissing for ages, but then it feels like you'd only been kissing for seconds. his breathing is labored, and you can see red in his cheeks.

"was that your first kiss since 1945?"

"i'm not answering that."

"oh, come on," you pester, bringing your hand up to the side of his face, which seems to do the trick.

"yes."

"really?"

"yes, really."

"it didn't seem like it."

"well, i guess if you put enough heart into something you can fool anyone." his words make your heart practically soar out of your chest. 'if you put enough heart into something'. you wonder if he planned for that to sound the way it did. you could feel his passion in the kiss, but to hear him imply that it actually means something to him is something else entirely.

"although, now that you mention it... maybe i could tell. kiss me again?"

"i will, but that is so corny."

[someonegoood]

THE CORPORATE EQUATION chapter 4 ✫ jeon jungkook

in the aftermath of the crisis, Jungkook becomes more receptive to your ideas, but his growing feelings leave him frustrated and defensive.

CONTAINS: corporate!au, ceo!jk, headofhr!reader, grumpy x sunshine, slow burn, accidental vulnerability, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable jk, bickering turned bonding, fluff & angst :)

NOTE: this will be a mini series. thanks so much for reading!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

miiini taglist @haru-jiminn @parapiop7 @radcustoms @minniejim @jeonzll @vantelover1306 @bgfdcvbnjk @mar-lo-pap @lmaothv @jksusawife @thatgirliehan <3

my main masterlist! ❀ the corporate equation masterlist!

❀ chapter four: under pressure

The morning air was crisp as you stepped out of your apartment. You clutched your beige coat tighter around you, the lingering fatigue from the past few days still weighing on your body. The system crash had turned the office into a war zone, and despite the crisis being under control, the tension hadn’t fully dissipated.

As you walked your usual route, your feet automatically led you past the small café where you and Jungkook had casually met. You slowed your pace, stealing a glance inside. The place was the same—warm lights, the scent of fresh coffee, and the soft chatter of regulars. But something about it felt different now, as if it carried the weight of unspoken words and moments that you hadn’t fully processed yet.

Shaking the thoughts away, you exhaled and continued towards the office. There was no time for distractions, not with what was waiting for you at work.

You slid into your chair next to Minji, who wordlessly pushed a Caramel Macchiato toward you. The comforting scent of espresso and caramel wrapped around you like a much-needed embrace. You shot her a grateful smile, but before you could take a sip, Jungkook’s voice cut through the room, sharp and commanding.

"Let’s get started."

Mr. Jeon stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. His tie was knotted just a little too tightly, and his usual effortless confidence was replaced with something colder, more restrained. His gaze briefly flickered toward you before snapping away.

“We need to focus on restructuring the damage control protocols,” Joohyun was saying. “This incident exposed major inefficiencies, and frankly, it was a wake-up call. HR shouldn’t be interfering in IT matters.”

The room stiffened. You exchanged a glance with Soojin, who raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was going.

You clenched your jaw but kept your tone even. “HR wasn’t interfering. We were making sure employees weren’t burning out under pressure. If people collapse from exhaustion, who’s going to fix the crisis then?”

Joohyun waved a dismissive hand. “That’s not enough. This wasn’t just an IT failure. It was a failure of oversight.” His gaze flickered toward you and your team. “HR has been too involved in matters beyond their scope.”

Your stomach twisted, but you forced your posture to remain steady. Jungkook’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t stopping this.

Jungkook’s gaze flickered toward you, something unreadable in his expression. But instead of backing you up, he exhaled sharply and said, “HR needs to stay in its lane. We had it under control.”

The words stung more than they should have, but you refused to let it show. “Caring about people isn’t overstepping—it’s our job,” you shot back.

Joohyun scoffed. “Then maybe you should do your job better.”

Minji’s knee knocked against yours under the table in silent support. Silence blanketed the room. Your throat tightened, but you refused to break in front of them. The exhaustion, the sleepless nights, the endless hours spent making sure the company didn’t fall apart—it all simmered beneath the surface, dangerously close to spilling over.

Beside you Dohyun squared his shoulders before speaking, his voice sharp with frustration. “Mr. Jeon, isn’t this enough? She has worked harder than anyone in this room.”

His expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on the table. Jungkook didn’t say a word. His jaw tensed, and without another glance in your direction, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving it in stunned silence.

You let out a shaky breath. The sting of betrayal clung to your skin, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to focus.

Joohyun smirked like he had won something, and that’s when the sting in your eyes became unbearable. You blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in your throat as the meeting carried on.

Minji leaned in, whispering, “Breathe. Don’t let him get to you.”

But it wasn’t just Joohyun.

It was Jungkook too.

Jungkook barely registered the hushed murmurs following him as he strode out of the conference room, his jaw tight, his grip on the office door handle unyielding. The moment he stepped inside, he shut the door with more force than necessary, the tension from the meeting still clawing at his chest.

A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Rough morning?” his father asked, sipping his tea.

Jungkook turned to see his father, standing near the bookshelves. He carried himself with the same air of authority he always had—effortless, refined, and utterly unshakable. He had the kind of presence that made men twice his size nervous, and even now, with retirement behind him, that presence remained.

Jungkook sighed, loosening his tie as he collapsed into his chair. “Something like that... What are you doing here?””

His father hummed, setting his cup down. “Can’t a father check in on his successor?” His sharp eyes scanned Jungkook’s face before he sighed. “Though, I suppose I already know what I’ll find. You’re overworking yourself.”

Jungkook scoffed, sinking into his chair. “If that’s all you came here to say, I have a lot of work to do.”

The older man ignored the dismissiveness in his tone and settled into one of the armchairs across from him. “Actually, I came to inform you that the company will be hosting its annual benefit gala next weekend.”

Jungkook exhaled through his nose. “Right. The usual overpriced charity event to appease investors and stroke the egos of the elite.”

His father smirked. “You say that like you aren’t part of that elite.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. He hated these events—forced smiles, empty conversations, and expectations that weighed on him like chains. He didn’t have the patience for it.

“The board expects your presence,” his father continued, his tone shifting to something more pointed. “You need to show confidence, charisma. That you are fully settled into your role as CEO.” He leaned forward slightly. “And for that, you can’t attend alone.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

Sanghyuk raised a brow, as if his son’s confusion was amusing. “Your image is important, Jungkook. You’re already known for being ruthless in the boardroom, and some people find you… unapproachable.”

Jungkook’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s not my problem.”

“Actually, it is,” his father countered smoothly. “The right alliances are just as crucial as the right business decisions. You need to bring company—someone who softens your image, makes you look less…” He gestured vaguely. “Cold.”

Jungkook ran a hand over his face, already dreading where this conversation was going. “I’m not parading around with a meaningless date for optics.”

His father tilted his head. “Who said it has to be meaningless?”

Jungkook stilled, his mind instantly flashing to her. The way she had stood her ground in that meeting, the fire in her eyes, the way his chest clenched when she looked at him like he had let her down.

His silence didn’t go unnoticed.

Sanghyuk smirked knowingly. “Ah. So there is someone.”

Jungkook scoffed, masking the sudden tightness in his chest. “You’re imagining things.”

His father leaned back with a chuckle. “Perhaps. But if I were you, I’d think carefully about who you bring. The right person could change everything for you.”

Jungkook stayed in silence and his father proceeded to talk. "I heard form the board that the HR team has managed pretty well with the system crash... Is that true?"

Jungkook said nothing, his fingers tapping against his desk “They are. The head of HR is managing well."

His father’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he said, “You know, I always had a soft spot for that girl. She reminds me of your mother—fierce, loyal, and endlessly patient.”

Jungkook looked away. “She’s frustrating.”

His father chuckled. “She’s frustrating because she challenges you.” He leaned forward, his expression turning serious. “You have a good team, Jungkook. Don’t push away the ones who actually care.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure he had an answer.

Later that evening, your parents arrived back from their trip, and despite the exhaustion, you went to pick them up. The last thing you expected was Jungkook showing up, offering you a ride.

Jungkook didn’t offer you a ride so much as he stated it, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. He was entering his office when he heard you talking about your parents coming back.

“I’ll take you to the airport.”

You had been gathering your things, still fuming from the earlier meeting, your fingers curling around the strap of your bag. “That’s not necessary. I can—”

“Let me take you.” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t gentle either. It was that controlled, restrained voice he used when he didn’t want to fight but was too damn stubborn to back down.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose before finally giving in. Arguing with Jungkook when he was in this mood was pointless.

The drive was steeped in silence, thick and suffocating. The morning meeting from earlier lingered between you like an open wound, neither of you willing to be the first to press on it. You stared out the window, the city lights blurring into streaks as Jungkook drove. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw locked, and you could feel his frustration pulsing in waves.

It wasn’t just the meeting. It was everything. The late nights. The exhaustion. The unspoken words.

At one point, Jungkook exhaled sharply, his fingers flexing against the leather steering wheel. “I wasn’t trying to undermine you,” he muttered, breaking the silence.

You turned to him, arms crossed. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable, then turned his eyes back to the road. “It’s not easy for me.”

You frowned. “What’s not easy?”

“Letting go,” he admitted, voice quieter this time. “Trusting that someone else has it handled.”

Something in your chest clenched, but before you could respond, he pulled into the airport’s drop-off area.

The moment you stepped out of the car, you spotted them—your mother waving enthusiastically, your father standing beside her with his usual composed presence, and Minho, your older brother, watching with narrowed eyes.

“Oh my,” your mother gasped, eyes immediately landing on Jungkook as he stepped out of the driver’s seat. “Who is this?”

You internally groaned. “Mom. He's my boss.”

She ignored you completely, a delighted smile spreading across her face as she approached Jungkook. “Aren’t you just handsome?” She turned to you with a smirk. “You never mentioned you had such a charming boss.”

Jungkook, to his credit, only blinked before bowing slightly in greeting. “It’s nice to meet yoU.” His voice was polite, but you could see the stiffness in his posture—the way he suddenly looked out of his element.

Your father was silent, his calculating gaze sweeping over Jungkook like he was evaluating him for something you weren’t privy to. Then, after a moment, he nodded. “Jeon, isn’t it?”

Jungkook nodded in return. “Yes, sir.”

A beat of silence stretched between them, and you almost felt bad for Jungkook. Almost.

Minho, however, was the one who cut in next, stepping beside you with a smirk eerily similar to your mother’s. “So this is the guy you’ve been talking about?”

Your eyes widened in horror. “Minho—”

Jungkook turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing just the smallest fraction. “She talks about me?”

Minho shrugged, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Oh, you know. She mentions you occasionally.”

You wanted to die. Meanwhile, your boss was looking at you with something unreadable in his gaze. There was amusement, sure, but also something deeper. Something that made your stomach twist.

Your mother, ever the observant one, clasped her hands together. “Well, we should get going. It was lovely meeting you, Jungkook.”

Your father gave a curt nod before following her toward the check-in counter, but Minho lingered just a moment longer, leaning in slightly. “She deserves someone who sees her,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Jungkook’s fingers twitched at his sides.

Then, with one last knowing smirk, Minho turned and walked off, leaving Jungkook standing there, still watching you. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and turned back toward the car, but before you could slip inside, Jungkook’s voice stopped you.

“I—” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Drive safe.”

You glanced up at him, and for the first time all night, the tension between you felt different.

You nodded. “You too, Jungkook.”

After the airport encounter, you and Jungkook barely spoke. Not out of avoidance—at least, not consciously—but because work consumed you both. The crisis had left a mess in its wake, and between back-to-back meetings, damage control, and finalizing reports, you hadn’t had a moment to breathe.

You told yourself that "your boss situtaiton" didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if anything had changed. He was still Jungkook... Mr. Jeon—sharp, guarded, and emotionally unavailable. And you were still you, someone who had no business lingering on a moment that had ended as soon as it began.

It wasn’t until nearly a week later, as you packed up to leave for the night, that something new disrupted the routine.

Soojin sighed dramatically, stretching her arms before leaning against your desk. “Did you see the email from the board?”

You looked up, confused. “What email?”

She waved her phone at you. “The invitation to the Beneficial Gala? It’s a company event, but all the wealthy investors and executives will be there. Black-tie, fancy venue, the whole nine yards.” She raised an eyebrow. “We’re expected to attend.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Because of course we are.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Soojin teased. “Free food, open bar, and the chance to see which department head drinks too much champagne and makes a fool of themselves.”

You snorted, shaking your head. But before you could respond, your gaze drifted toward Jungkook’s office. The blinds were partially open, and inside, you could see him sitting at his desk, one hand running through his hair while the other gripped a pen so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

He looked exhausted.

Soojin followed your line of sight and sighed. “He’s been like that all day.”

You frowned. He had been distant—not just from you, but from everyone. Sure, Jungkook always carried himself with a certain level of intensity, but lately, it had been worse.

Before you could stop yourself, you were already moving.

“Good luck,” Soojin whispered behind you.

You hesitated in front of Jungkook’s office door, hand hovering over the wood before finally knocking. A beat of silence. Then—

“Come in.”

You pushed open the door, stepping inside to find him slumped over his desk. Papers were spread out in front of him, his laptop screen glowing with half-written emails, and a barely touched cup of coffee sat beside him, long since gone cold.

Jungkook barely glanced up, his usually sharp eyes dull with fatigue. “What is it?” His voice was lower than usual, rough at the edges.

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. “I just…” You exhaled. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

He let out a short, humorless chuckle. “Feels like it.”

You closed the door behind you, stepping closer. “Have you eaten?”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

You sighed, placing your hands on your hips. “That’s what I thought.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of his computer and the distant sounds of the office outside.

Then, tentatively, you said, “There’s a gala.”

That got his attention. He glanced up. “I know.” Of course he did. He was the CEO.

“The board expects everyone to go,” you continued. “Including you.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. “I don’t have time for a social event right now.”

You crossed your arms, watching him. “You do realize you’re allowed to enjoy yourself for one night, right? It wouldn’t kill you.”

He shot you a dry look. “Debatable.”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, I get it. You have a million things on your plate. But you’re running yourself into the ground, Jungkook.”

He went silent at that. For a second, you thought he would argue, but instead, he just stared at you—something unreadable flickering in his gaze.

Then, almost reluctantly, he sighed. “Fine. One night.”

You blinked, surprised he agreed so quickly. “Really?”

Jungkook arched an eyebrow. “Don’t push it.”

You smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But now... come have dinner with us. You need a break.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Why do you care?”

You hesitated, then said, “Because someone has to.”

For the first time that day, Jungkook didn’t have a sharp retort. Instead, he stood up, grabbing his coat. “Fine. But if your brother interrogates me, I’m blaming you.”

You smiled. “Deal.”

As the two of you walked out together, something in the air felt lighter—tentative, but not as hostile. Maybe, just maybe, the distance between you wasn’t as vast as you thought.

previous / next

[myarmsaretoolong]

january recs

gunna try to do one of these each month with good stuff ive read recently! this month'll be more than just january as its the first =D (below the cut cos its really quite long)

Just this once by Beleriandings

(Everybody lives.) (Or: when a certain Doctor arrives to save Owen Harper from a stricken nuclear power station, it begins a chain of events that will lead Torchwood Three down a very different path. From time locks and telepathy to tea and coffee, high-speed chases to unresolved sibling issues, their new lives (and new and old loves) may be different, but their bonds of friendship and family grow stronger every day. But when every child on earth starts speaking with one voice, the team are torn apart again as they’re forced to fight for their lives, and to confront monsters they’d thought they’d left behind in the past. But with all of them working together – along with some allies they’ve made along the way – Torchwood Three will stop at nothing to save their friends and set the world to rights. The consequences will ripple out across the universe and into the distant future. But they have to start somewhere, and the present is as good a place as any.)

this fic is pure brilliance!! i was screaming in the comments on multiple occasions. the characterisations are so fun and fit right along the series. overall just great!

you'll fit so nicely, you'll keep me intact by thirteeninafez

The woman walked away with one last brilliant, world-stopping smile, and Tosh let out a long sigh. She looked down at the name and number scribbled onto the paper. The thing was, in that one moment, Tosh could see herself falling entirely in love with the glowing, wonderful Lois. Or, the one where Tosh not only lives past Exit Wounds, but flourishes.

i loooved this one! tosh is still alive by the time children of earth rolls around and she and lois fall in love in the sweetest way <3

here is the deepest secret nobody knows by blackkat

Ianto closes his eyes in Thames House, lungs full of choking alien gas, and opens them in his sister's house in Cardiff.

we all need a good bit of fix it in this fandom, and this is a great one

The Zagrith's Claw by AVAAntares

Changing fate always demands a price -- and sometimes, the cure can be worse than the disease.

good bit of a case fic here, nice characterisations going on

Aftershocks by SqutternutBosh

The first episode of yet another alternate season 3! Follows on from Exit Wounds but imagines Tosh and Owen narrowly escaped their fates. Torchwood are picking up the pieces and dealing with the consequences of Gray's attack on the city when a series of time slips start to appear across Cardiff...

the brilliant first part in a brilliant series that rewrites series three in the style of the first two with the whole torchcrew along for the ride. (im not gunna put each individual fic here for the sake of brevity but take this a rec for them all, serious they're fantastic!)

it's all been done before by girlsaturday

- @girlsaturday

Tosh gets trapped in a time loop. It just might end up being a good thing.

beloved time loop fic <3 great read!

Bad In Your Blood by CaptainFairyGodmother

- @captainfairygodmother

There were only two constants in life at Torchwood; one, that it was almost a certainty that you would not make it to see your first pension payment; and two, that Ianto Jones and Owen Harper would be arguing. At least one of the constants was preventable- and it certainly was not the arguing. OR; Ianto and Owen are brothers AU, in which Owen's refusal to acknowledge Ianto as his brother- let alone form a familial relationship with him- may just lead to the death of the whole team.

amazing concept with amazing execution

The Many Returns of Ianto Jones by bluetrees

@b1uetrees

The first time can be discounted as a fluke, a wonder of genetics. The second as plausible deniability. The third as a pattern, and a problem. Every other time, as a curse. Ianto Jones died a long time ago. So why did Jack keep running into him?

fair to call this a masterpiece

Because It's All About Him by nigohyu

Jack Harkness and Martha Jones meet sporadically over the years. Exhausted, they try not to talk about the Doctor, but the scars are always there. "He’s a drug, a damn addictive drug."

a bittersweet and much needed conversation

To The Sticking Place by zephyras13

The end justifies the means. Failure is not an option. There is always a choice, except when there isn't. These are the phrases Ianto Jones lives by and he refuses to allow anyone, even Captain Jack Harkness, to change that. Jack/Ianto, AU, Torchwood One Agent!Ianto.

a very different take on ianto and so so fun to read!

cravings by leere

(or, how to have a love life when you're a zombie)

owandy <3 enough said <3

and of course go and check out the pinned masterlist on @torchwoodfanweek for loads more fantastic stuff to read!

[shadowsndaisies]

I was re-reading the series bcs duh, why not? And I love that NG has so different dynamics with each member of the Team and I love that with Roy is just younger-sister-sassy.lvl_3000

LIKE- she turn even more cheeky and stubborn with him, annoying him on purpose and getting in his nerves LMAO THAT'S EXATCLY LIKE SIBLINGS ARE

here a dialogue that I had with my siblings that remembered me of Roy and NG

Roy: get out of my room (lying down on his bed scrolling through his phone)

NG: (stading right there on his room door) I'm not on your room

Roy: yes you are, get out!

NG: I'm not!! I'm not stepping inside of your room! (points down where her feet's are behind the line of Roy's door line)

Roy: Get out!! OR I'MMA THROW OUT YOU JACKET (gets up)

NG: YOU WOULDN'T-

Roy: (bolt out of his bed)

NG: (running down the hallway)

so ive been sitting on this one bc it inspired a lil blurb. enjoy some sibling roy and birdy content after their angst from the season finale!!

synopsis: sibling bonding time!! aka the holidays right after ollie takes in roy...

wc: 1.2k

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You were bored.

It’s winter break, 2004. Christmas is days away but you were so incredibly bored.

This year you were celebrating in a cozy little cottage some ways outside the city that Oliver’s family owned. Ollie himself had been pulled away for some sort of League thing, and so at the moment it was just you, Dinah, and Roy. Dinah had been on some call for the last hour and a half in a little home office. So really, it was just you and Roy.

You like Roy. Everyday he's becoming more and more like the older brother you never had. Dinah seems to really like him too, so it bodes well for your little family. Ollie had only taken him in about six months ago, and there was still some space for adjustment as you settled into being a newly minted family of four. Not that Roy seemed to realize that this was a family… he’d catch on soon enough.

But that's okay. It took you a while to put it together, you could give him some grace to do the same, even though he's older than you were then, and older than you in general.

Nonetheless, be it the boredom, or because Roy was still this new thing, you found yourself in his doorway.

He was just laying there, book in hand. Maybe he's bored too? you consider as you stare. If he's reading the tactic books that Ollie had given him, he had to be, right?

“What do you want (y/n)?” he sighs out, without looking when you stood in silence too long.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Stuff,” is his one word answer and you crinkle your nose in response.

“Come play with me,” you offer instead.

“Nope, doing stuff,” he repeats.

This time your brows shift down, and you step closer.

“Stop,” he groans, finally turning to look at you. “I'm not interested, and I’m doing stuff, so just.. I don't know? Go away?”

You're fully frowning now.

Teenagers suck, you decide.

And then your face relaxes. If Roy wanted to be a sucky teenager meanie pants, then he would be treated like a sucky teenager meanie pants.

“No.”

Roy stops mid page turn and slowly turns his head to look at you. Blue eyes narrowing slightly. “No?”

“No,” you cross your arms and confirm.

“(y/n), get out of my room!” he huffs.

You know he's starting to loose his patience with you. He's already tossed his book to the side to glare at you with full focus, he didn’t even mark his page, you note, scrunching your nose.

Your brows furrow in response before you glance down at your feet. You can see the thin little line that marks the threshold of the room and hallway.

smirking you look back at roy and state, “im not in your room,” as matter of factly as you can manage.

You don't laugh when his eye twitches, but you do take great smug solace in it.

“Yes, you are! Get out!” he shouts again.

“No, I’m not,” you repeat with the same tone. “I haven't stepped into your room at all… yet,” you challenge, pointing to the threshold of the door, and how your feet were planted firmly in the hall still.

“Get out, or I'm donating your leather jacket to a Goodwill,” he challenges, standing up.

That gives you pause, because no fair, you loved your jacket. Dinah and Ollie got it for you.

You hesitate in the door, and he steps forward.

“You wouldn't,” you counter, brows knitted as you study his body language.

Honestly that’s probably the only reason you managed to move as quick as you did.

Studying him for a lie meant you saw how he tensed up, pushing his weight to his back leg before he pounced, arms open and trying to grab you.

Well, and Dinah, consider she's the one who taught you how to read people.

You did notice though and were already booking it back down the hallway before he’d even caught his footing.

“BIRDY!” he shouts, and you can hear him running after you.

You're about to turn to your room, ready to shut the door and throw the lock when you realize your jacket is hanging over the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen. You turn quickly, sprinting through the home.

When you risk a glance back to see Roy gaining, stupid longer legs you think menacingly to yourself.

“DINAH!” you shout, hoping she might hear you.

“NO DINAH!” Roy counters.

You plant one leg on the couch vaulting yourself over before skidding to a stop next to your jacket.

Roy stands across from you. The two of you separated by a couch.

“You shoulda just left me alone Birdy!” he spits out, but you're both panting hard.

“I was bored!”

“How about now?” he challenges. “Still bored?”

You're hugging your jacket to you as you frown, but are saved from retorting when the door swings open, revealing Oliver. He's a bit bruised and battered, and he's got his bag with all his GA gear slung over a shoulder, but he's back.

Neither you nor Roy moves, and it takes less than two seconds for Oliver to read you both and let out a sigh.

“What was it this time?”

“She’s annoying!” Roy starts and you stick your tongue out at him.

“At least I'm not a sucky teenager meanie pants,” you counter, and Ollie’s eyes blow wide.

“Wow, breaking out not only sucky but also a meanie pants, gosh squirt what’d he do?”

“He was mean! for no reason!”

“No reason? She’s literally annoying me for no reason!” Roy counters.

“We're really feeling that holiday spirit huh?” ollie offers in response, finally walking all the way in, and shutting the door behind him.

“So funny,” you scoff.

“Yeah, what a crack up,” Roy snarks.

Ollie takes the opportunity to beam with a little too much pride at you both.

“See, you guys do agree on stuff,” he decides. “I’m great at this conflict management stuff,” he smirks, “I honestly don't understand what Dinah was going on and on about,” he adds, though his tone drops a bit quieter as he says the last sentence.

You make eye contact with Roy behind Ollie’s head and you see as he rolls his eyes and the expression he shoots at you clearly asks, *can you believe this guy?*

You hold back a snort as you quirk a brow in response. Roy seems to pick up on what you were trying to share because slowly you place your jacket back on the chair and then in the next second you both are lunging at Oliver. Ollie, despite how well trained he is was unprepared and lopped over the back off the couch, practically somersaulting over the sofa until he was on the ground. It's quiet for a second and then both you and Roy are laughing. He's holding the edge of the couch and there are tears in your eyes.

“Yes,” he states dryly, slowly pushing himself back to his feet, “bond by bullying your injured mentor…”

The look on his face simply had you both laughing harder.

...

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

dc taglist: @batarella @loninctzencarat @escapenightmare @uh-oh-howd-i-get-here

cnng taglist: @babymango-writes @smile-more19 @bruiscdlikeviolets @truly-dionysus @farfromjustordinary @sometimeseverythingsucks @dweeb-central @lucy-roo @casedoina @cipheress-to-k-pop @anonomano @seninjakitey @whelmedparker @officiallydarkgeek @midnxghtblue @unini @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient @dontmesswithbeebo @raggedyoldwitch @bouqet-of-gay @duckmylife18 @kendallambrosio @notslaybabes @torchbearerkyle @cynthiarose07 @mono--moonchild @emo-space-tea @notsostraightweeb @sassyspanishartist @ahyeonah @acceber1313 @onepieceformeplease @whatislifeandhowdoidoit @luvelyxp @lovelyartemisa @evermoore580 @mischiefmanaged71 @cryingnotcrying @aces-tattooartist @we-flower-fan @awkward-youtube-trash @laurcad123 @sanovr @feverish-dove @lolsnacks

[carlarosenakilah]

I'm taking a break from The Osix Family and Wilted Ivory

Hi, you've read that right. I'll proceed to go into detail undercut

Warning that the following will be containing very sensitive topics such as su***idal thoughts, mental health issues, and whatever the fuck I went through to get me here and I don't know how to describe nor name them but overall its not pretty.

Getting straight to the point- im drained. I'm in a horrible place right now and I need to take a step back before it might escalate into something worse.

The Osix Family is always something that I will forever dedicate to. It has comforted me, carried me, and saved me from killing myself three years ago.

I asked myself, "If I'm not here, who will tell the story of The Osix Family?"

That made me stay alive, and im greatful for that because if not, I wouldn't have been where I am today standing with the coolest people I have ever met and my amazing partner in crime @alexusespido-dod.

I love Wilted Ivory too, and that's where it gets tricky.

My only plan for Wilted Ivory is to simply tell a story about growth expressed as a musical au. Hence why the art is so simple– not just to match the original Casino Cups style, but just to tell a story that I hope would inspire and comfort others. Of course, I'm happy it gained lota of love.

The Osix Family though is a different story.

Like I said, it means a lot to me, so I put so much time and energy into this series. I sacrifice time that could've been used to study for the next exam, but instead im working on the next few panels or planning the music and etc. Blood sweat and tears (literally) into making sure the art looks good, story is properly conveyed, scenes carefully picked. Even if it gained me bad scores in my exams that made me stress over about, in the end it was worth it to me. I didn't care if I'd be sick an unable to move, as long as I could at least think about it, then I would be happy.

Episode 3 was my worst.

I overworked myself for that episode. I was always in front of my tablet, I never moved out of my seat, I was just there, working on it even if it was 1 in the morning and that I should be sleeping. I told myself: "Everything will pay off! Sure you're in so much pain right now, but eventually it will all pay off! Episode 3 is looking good and interesting! This will FINALLY gain the audience and love the story deserves!"

I was proud.

Until I wasn't.

Reality hit me like a saw. The moment the episode was released I was hopeful. But nothing happened. It was all the same.

And it just hurt how something as simple as Wilted Ivory can easily gain attention and love because it was Cuphead related something well known. Meanwhile, The Osix Family–despite everything–is just barely seen.

I started to doubt myself. To question myself. Was I not doing enough. What more can I do. What should I do. Am I not good enough?

Is the story just not good enough?

That broke me. I began to have thoughts I shouldn't have. I wanted to end it all. I wanted to quit and disappear from the world. Because what was the point in pouring so much love into something only for it to dismissed.

Its not like I simply began having these thoughts.

I've had them over and over again.

As much as I hated involving him, my partner, Alex, had to deal with the many times I nearly ended it. To the point where even if he was in school, he'd go out of his way to stop me, I still feel guilty, even if he said it was fine.

I don't understand myself anymore.

Why do I even have such an attachment to this series? Its just a stupid silly series for funsies isn't it? Why does my life to depend on it?

Unfortunately, it just does.

It sucks. Pushing away my needs for the sake of this passion, only for it to just not go as I hoped it would go. Did I mention I'm also losing followers on the osix family blog? Thats so silly and coquette.

I'm so sorry if im coming off as guilt-trippy, please I don't want it to sound that way, I just want to express how deeply troubled I am because to me it actually DOES HURT.

I envy people who couldn't give a flying fuck about whether or not their stuff goes famous or gets love, I don't even understand why I am so dependent or hungry on whatever attention it gets. I hate that im like this. I want to be free from it but I just crave it.

So, for the sake of my mental health and whatever is left of my sanity, im taking a break, for good.

I will not be updating The Osix Family or Wilted Ivory at this very moment. For how long? It depends on how fucked up I have actually turned out to be today.

I might still post, keyword: MIGHT, its not any update but to just simply draw for myself, but the chances of me posting anything is horribly low.

I'm going to focus on myself, my needs, and whatever makes me happy or have fun with.

To those who supported The Osix Family or even bothered to check it out: Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

It means a lot to me, you have NO idea. Every single like, reblog, comment, hype or even the silliest amounts of theories or thoughts, they make me so happy, it actually heals me.

I can't remember names im sorry, but there was a time someone expressed how they were invested in the lore and loved the world building, it really made my day. Or when someone pointed out some small details on my waiting in a miracle animatic, it warmed my heart.

I have troubles expressing it, but im so, SO greatful.

Especially when some of my mutuals started making OCS FOR THE SERIES?? Like– it felt like a HUGE compliment.

I cant believe im tearing up as im typing this haha im so stupid lmao, but

Thank you. A lot.

And to those who weren't really into The Osix Family, its okay, don't feel bad, sometimes things are just not our cup of tea, I just needed to express my grief, cause honestly bottling it up isn't going to end well for me (and it really didn't multiple times).

I apologize for any false hope or let down your hype as Wilted Ivory was just starting and The Osix Family was finally coming back– but this treatment is overwhelming me that I need to take a step back.

That's all for now.

Thank you for... actually reading, you listening means a lot to me too.

Goodbye.

[academyofbrokenhearts]

I have finally finished reading Blossom. Happy ending in the novel too, although a lot of things were vastly different; the main couple, of course, remained superior until the end.

Things we got in the novel that I am glad didn't make it into the series:

Dou Zhao, an adult woman, scheming and navigating complex familial relationships while in a two year old, then a five year old body. I get how it might be interesting for some, but it was incredibly boring for me, and since she managed to neutralise her stepmother quite early on, I saw no need to spend so much time watching her building up and managing relationships with everyone in the Dou family. Moreover, I am glad that the size of the family was trimmed down (I still can't make sense of all the relationships presented in the novel) and some characters were changed compared to how they were in the novel; it was amazing to see Grandma, who had been only a concubine in the book (and therefore couldn't even be called Grandma by Dou Zhao according to customs, let alone have any kind of power), turning into a formidable matriarch, and it was also cool to see Zhao Zhangru as the constant sidekick;

no Song Mo until 114 chapters in. I must confess that my main fascination in both the series and the novel was the relationship between the mains, and the fact that he is only mentioned once or twice before his first dramatic appearance was definitely not enough for me;

way too much time spent on side characters; like I said in a previous post, did I really need to know in detail how Suxin and Sulan ended up serving Dou Zhao? And it felt even more useless since in the novel they end up getting married and leaving the Song Manor, and only getting mentioned in passing from that moment on;

Things I wish would have made it into the series, but did not (and some of them could have never made it, unless the entire censorship board would have been in a coma):

all the sexual encounters between Song Mo and Dou Zhao. Like in the series, the start of their physical intimacy is quite slow, they don't consummate during their wedding night (but unlike in the series, it's not because she prepares a period PowerPoint presentation, it's simply because he knows the next days as newlyweds will be tiring, and just wants to allow them to rest). Unlike in the series, no one is cockblocking Song Mo (in fact, their subordinates are even alarmed at the lack of consummation), and when he decides to make a move on Dou Zhao, he does it, and no one dares to interrupt. They make love quite regularly from that moment on, and I like how Dou Zhao's reluctance is gradually melting away, and how the novel is clearly stating that she enjoys the encounters just as much as he does, and even becomes bold enough to initiate later on;

them being parents. I know we get that one cute scene with their daughter at the end of the series, but Song Mo is such a good dad and husband in the novel, constantly prioritising Dou Zhao's comfort and being just as involved in the child's rearing as she is (to the point that their son learns to say Papa before Mama). I surely wish we would have seen more of that in the series.

Song Yichun does not die in the novel. He is, in a delightful twist of fate, forced to expel Song Han from the family, a treatment he had hoped to apply to Song Mo, and is left disabled after Song Han attacks him. Moreover, the daughter he had switched at birth with Song Han is discovered alive, Song Mo takes her under his protection, and she gets married and lives happily. I surely wish karma would have hit the old man in the face like this in the series as well.

Other things that got changed which I am fairly neutral about:

Song Mo and Dou Zhao's backgrounds in life 1. I have to say I loved how the series made it crystal clear that life 1 was an utterly doomed timeline, with both of them being betrayed and ultimately killed, while the entire country was burning. Life 1 in the novel was bleak in a different, more subtle, way. Dou Zhao dies after a long illness, almost completely devoid of any human warmth - the novel tells us that both her sons with Wei Tingyu are distant, as a result of her being too busy with household matters to be able to form a bond with them, and the only warmth she gets is from her daughter, a child she had after forcing herself to have sex with her husband once more (she had trauma from miscarriage), hoping she could get pregnant again and alleviate her loneliness somewhat. And Song Mo, unlike in the series, is a very powerful figure after the coup, but is perceived as merciless (having slaughtered both his father and brother), cynical (he never finds out the truth about his uncle's death, and never bothers to) and, in the end, utterly, utterly alone;

the dynamic between them after the rebirth. Unlike in the series, where they forged a bond in life 1 which was the basis for their relationship as adults in life 2, in the novel they meet as teenagers (when he is 13 and she is 14), and he is more or less smitten from the beginning, whereas she fears and despises him at first, gradually starting to understand him the more their paths cross. While in the series, they are already both in love by the time she accepts his proposal (having gone through a lot of adventures together that strengthened their bond), in the novel, he is the one with the huge crush, while she accepts his proposal for more pragmatic reasons, trusting that he is capable and will support her in the way Wei Tingyu was unable to. But the attraction between them is mutual, and I really liked watching her slowly but surely falling in love with him due to his constant care and attention towards her;

Song Mo is way more calculated in the novel than in the series, where he's simply feral and would wreak havoc at any given moment were it not for Dou Zhao and her more sensible approaches. It makes for an interesting dynamic in the series, where they pretty much compliment each other, but I must confess I loved his scheming and 5D chess playing in the novel;

Dou Ming's entire character. Unlike in the series, which presented a nature versus nurture situation, with Dou Ming being shrewd in life 1 after being raised by her mother, and a sweet, innocent girl in life 2, as a result of not being raised by her mother, in the novel, Dou Ming exhibits jealousy from an early age, and constantly feels inferior, which ultimately results in her taking Dou Zhao's place as Wei Tingyu's wife. Their marriage is unhappy, as, just like in the series, he is not very smart and doesn't like facing difficulties. Unlike in the series, she doesn't die (she's too petty to die), but it's clear by the time she makes her last appearance in the novel that her life is miserable, and there is no chance of improvement;

Wang Yingxue is not even half as cunning and manipulative as her series counterpart; she fails to charm Dou Shiying in any meaningful way (he is never in love with her and only wants to take her as a concubine because they had a sexual encounter while he was drunk, and he wants to save face) and ultimately she pushes him away, becomes a pariah in the family and is sent to a country estate to die forgotten by everyone, including her daughter;

Miao Ansu has a completely different familial background and no connection to Dou Zhao prior to her marriage with Song Han. She's also far from being the timid forest creature the series portrays her as;

Song Han manages to be somehow even more awful than his series counterpart. Not only is he not in love with Miao Ansu, he also lacks any kind of respect for her, which ultimately pushes her to align with Dou Zhao and Song Mo, and initiate his downfall. His death is not described in the novel, but it is heavily implied.

Overall, while there were a lot of things I liked about the book, I think I prefer the pacing of the series way more. Also, the series got a "will they get their happily ever after, won't they?" feeling with the poison subplot that the novel lacked until very close to the end (when Dou Zhao is almost taken hostage during the palace coup). The royals are awful as hell in both iterations, the injustice never really gets solved (in my opinion, the Emperor was also very much to blame for Jiang Meisun's death, not only the scheming Empress), but at least the lovely main couple lives happily ever after.

Would I rather recommend the book or the series? Honestly, probably the series, but the Song Mo/Dou Zhao dynamic is lovely in the novel as well, and, if nothing else, those passages about their relationship are definitely worth reading.

[unityrain24]

"oh the loki in the series isn't the same as the one in infinity war because he got several movies-worth of character development scrapped. the tva version is all the way back from avengers 1, that's why."

ok but have you considered that maybe that doesn't even make sense for avengers 1 loki.?

[seventhdoctor]

Graduation photos, episodes 161 and 167

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the Wife at First Sight series)

In Ghost’s eyes, the first time you smiled up at him was the moment you became his and his alone.

So what if everyone apart from you knew it?

Didn’t make it any less of a fact, as far as he was concerned.

Still though, he wanted to learn more about just who his pretty little wife was, including anything that might make letting you know about your marriage a little easier. And so like the good soldier he is, he goes about it as though it were a reconnaissance mission.

He asks you how you take your coffees and teas, holding his breath as he watches you take the first sip of whichever drink he’s made you that day, pride swelling in his chest when you tell him it’s perfect, even better than when you make it.

The first time he’d done so, your eyes widened in surprise when he put his large, gloved hands over yours where they were wrapped around the mug, leaning forward and bringing the rim to his lips where he took a sip for himself, eyes locked with yours. You were unsure of what to think or say, but he apparently decided for you that this was okay, returning the warm drink to your mouth where he encouraged you to take another sip.

You figured that it was alright, he did make the tea for you after all, right?

You even laughed when he started only serving you in a mug with ‘Mrs.’ printed across the side, certain that it hadn’t been in any of the common room’s cupboards before.

He eyes the book peeking out of your bag one morning as you tuck it away, purchasing his own copy the very same day, curious to know what you like reading. You’re pleasantly surprised, if not a tad confused, when you find the next two books in the trilogy sat atop your desk soon after, a small note written in chicken scratch lain on top reads ‘To : Wife’. He’ll make a point of commenting on the novel if he sees you holding it, slipping in tid bits of information to impress you show he’s read it as well, likes the same things you like.

He’ll joke about how the food on the dining hall is always subpar, trying to casually find out what you like eating, subtly pulling out his phone and typing anything new into his notes app where he’s been keeping track of all your likes and dislikes. He just wants to get things right with you, be good for you, prove he can be the husband you need. You’re already perfect in his eyes, his sweet little soulmate who just doesn’t know it yet.

Though this was the first military base you’d ever worked on, you couldn’t recall anyone having ever warned you about the way Lieutenants apparently like to haze the new hires, never mind the fact that everyone else was apparently in on it.

No one bats an eye when you go to take the empty seat next to him in a briefing, and he wraps his strong arms around you to instead plop you down onto his muscular thighs, carrying on with the task at hand as though this is perfectly normal and professional. Even the Captain hardly glances at the interaction, so you figure it’s okay, some strange form of team bonding?

Not a soul comments on the way the Lieutenant insists on being the one to cut up your food and feed you bites during meals in the dining hall, pretending as though they don’t hear him telling you about how “my wife works hard enough, don’t need to be liftin’ a finger wit’ me around, love.”

They know to move out of the way if you’re approaching a closed door, knowing if the Lieutenant is anywhere near, he’ll be rushing to open the door for you before you can even attempt to do it yourself.

Even Soap has stopped complaining aloud and only rolls his eyes when Ghost drops anything and everything he’s doing- whether it’s spotting the Sergeant in the gym, being out on a morning run, hell even being in the middle of a shower- to send you a good morning text at six o clock on the dot. Every. Single. Morning.

No, you never exactly anticipated this sort of a running gag from a hardened military base, but you’re not exactly complaining either.

Not when you find your heart fluttering every time your fake work husband dotes on you like he really would marry you at the drop of a hat.

Besides, it’s all just playful, innocent fun, right?

Especially when everyone begins to apparently forget your name and instead refers to you only as Mrs Riley.

And when the Captain tells you that your requested time off for a honeymoon has been approved, something which you definitely don’t remember requesting, well that’s all just fun too, right?

[flwttr]

⋆⑅‧⋆sleepy girl

warnings: somnophilia, cunnilingus, breeding kink (if u squint), rafe being a pussy drunk sweetheart

rafe stumbled through the front door at around midnight. even though he was a bit drunk he tried his hardest not to make too much noise. he shook off his jacket and kicked off his shoes, tossing them both onto the bench by the door.

he had been at a house party one of the guys was hosting. after a few beers he started thinking about you. you were probably wearing one of your tank tops and a pair of tight fitting shorts (little did he know the surprise waiting for him). just the thought of you made his cock throb, he was craving you; and that was enough for him to make up an excuse to head home.

he quietly made his way through the house, stopping in the doorway of your shared bedroom. rafe felt his cock throb when he saw your half naked body, arm draped over one of the large pillows while you were curled up in a fetal position.

he walked closer to you, pulling off his black shirt and unbuckling his belt. his large hands spread your legs apart, a shiver going down his spine when he saw your glistening heat. he laid down next you and finally released his pulsating dick from the tight confines of his boxers. he traced his fingers up and down your torso. you shifted in your sleep, pressing yourself against him. rafe let out a deep groan; he couldn't take it anymore.

rafe lined himself up with you and ran his cock through your folds, shivering at the feeling of your juices. he slowly pushed his cock into your tight cunt, letting out a string of quiet groans as he bottomed out. you shifted again, unintentionally rolling your hips into his. he gave up on trying to keep quiet. he let out a loud moan while slipping his cock in and out of your sweet slick. his fingernails dug into the skin on your hips, desperately chasing his orgasm.

you whimpered quietly, waking up just moments before.

"rafe..!" you whined, pushing yourself up against him.

"shh, i'll take care of you, hon" he whispered.

he pulled out and flipped you over so he was hovering above you. he lightly pecked your lips before slowly pushing himself back into your tight pussy.

"missed you all night sweetheart...had to leave early cause' of you" he rambled while pumping in and out of you. his fingers dug into your hips, making you whimper in both pleasure and pain. he threw both of your legs up on his shoulders, trying to get as deep inside you as he could.

your silky walls clenched around rafes thick cock and your moans gradually got louder. you felt a fiery sensation in your lower abdomen; you were about to cum, and he already knew.

"want me to cum inside you, baby, hm?" he moaned, reaching down to rub your clit in sloppy circles. "cum for me, angel, let it all go."

"f-f-fuck.." was the only coherent word you said, followed by a string of loud moans, whimpers, and squeals. your vision turned white and your back arched off of the mattress, your cum gushing down your lower thighs and onto the sheets.

rafe let out a string whimpers and moans, pushing himself deeper into your cunt than he has before. his head rested on your shoulder as he let out another series of moans, finally surrendering to the pleasure and shooting his white sticky seed into your womb.

he slowly pulled himself out of your throbbing pussy, your lip quivering at the lack of contact. he slowly kissed down your neck and chest, taking his time as he got closer to your glistening cunt. once he was face to face with your heat, he pressed a gentle kiss to your clit, making you flinch.

he licked up the mixture of the both of yours cum dripping down your thighs, pushing the rest back into your throbbing hole. your eyes widened as he pulled his phone out. he took three pictures of your sex and saved them to his private folder full of pictures of you. 

he went back down to face your pussy again, kissing your clit and gently suckling on it.

" 'ts t-too much.." you cried. he instantly pulled away and sat up to kiss you. "i know baby im sorry, we're done now okay? did so good f' me, just like always" he whispered, caressing your face softly and laying down before he pulled you to lay on his chest.

"i love you, my good girl." he whispered softly. he looked down and smiled when he saw you sound asleep, completely tuckered out.

[cumironi]

ALWAYS : GOJO SATORU

gojo is an actor, a famous one, but he’s also been your boyfriend for a few years. you have an argument with him when he agrees to have a fake relationship with his costar without even telling you.

warning. established relationship! gojo, non-sorcerer! gojo, angst to comfort, reader thinking about leaving him.

gojo satoru, the name on everyone's lips, the face lighting up screens and hearts alike. after his series, jujutsu kaisen, hit the airwaves, his fame exploded. people couldn’t get enough of him—the magnetic charm, that boyish yet strikingly handsome face, his tall frame that seemed to demand attention, and that playful personality that left fans swooning. soon, he was everywhere, his every move followed, every glance analyzed. the media loved him, and so did the world. and it wasn’t long before rumors began to stir, fans shipping him with his co-star, utahime, the chemistry they shared on screen now fueling wild speculations.

but you— you loved him before all of that. before the fame, before the cameras, before the world started calling his name. you'd been his since high school, standing by his side through the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, when the world was smaller, and it felt like nothing could touch what you had. in all those years together, not once did you doubt him. not once did you question his love or his loyalty. satoru was yours, and you were his, in a way that felt unshakable, unbreakable.

until tonight.

you’re sitting on the couch, in the living room of your shared apartment, the place that always felt like home when he was around. the soft glow of the television flickers across your face, but the news it brings feels like a punch to the gut. there, on the screen, are headlines you never thought you'd see—rumors swirling about satoru dating utahime. the photos, the whispers, they feel like shards of glass cutting into you. your heart sinks, heavy and cold, and the world around you seems to crumble, falling to pieces at your feet. the trust you once held so tightly begins to tremble, slipping through your fingers like sand.

your chest tightens, breath shallow, as tears threaten to spill. it’s a slow ache, this feeling of betrayal—an unraveling of everything you thought you knew. but even with the panic swirling inside, even as the overthinking begins its cruel work, you hold onto a fragile hope. this has to be a misunderstanding, a twisted story spun by the media. you tell yourself to wait, to breathe, to stay strong until he comes home, until he can explain it all away.

hours tick by, and the apartment feels too quiet, too still. the silence presses in, and every minute that passes drags you deeper into doubt. finally, the door clicks open. it’s late—almost one in the morning. you watch as satoru steps through the threshold, his movements slow, his eyes glazed, the unmistakable scent of alcohol hanging heavy in the air between you.

satoru’s familiar smile lights up his face the moment his eyes land on you, that same warm, loving expression you’ve seen countless times. even through the haze of alcohol, there’s a softness in his gaze, a look of pure adoration as he leans against the doorframe for a moment, taking you in. despite the lateness of the hour, despite the swirling rumors, his eyes still hold that undeniable love, as if nothing in the world could change what he feels for you.

he steps closer, his movements slow but deliberate, and before you can say a word, his long arms wrap around your smaller frame. the embrace is warm, familiar, his body pressing against yours with a kind of gentle urgency. satoru buries his head in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into your skin like he always does when he needs comfort or closeness. his hold tightens around you, as if anchoring himself to you, as if the weight of the world outside disappears when he’s in your arms.

“i missed you,” he mumbles against your neck, voice low and slightly slurred from the alcohol. his breath is warm, his touch soothing, and for a moment, despite everything, everything seems like it’s as it should be between the two of you.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, the smile on his face wider, his gaze a bit more unfocused. he cups your face, his thumb gently tracing the line of your cheekbone. “you’ve been waiting up for me, dollface?”

you meet his blue eyes, those familiar pools of endless blue now a bit dull, clouded by the alcohol and the late hour. they still carry warmth, but beneath it all, you can see the exhaustion and the weight of something unspoken. his thumb traces your cheek with such tenderness, and for a brief second, it almost feels like everything is normal, like the rumors you’d seen and the doubts gnawing at your chest were just figments of your imagination. but as you nod silently, unable to bring yourself to speak, the lump in your throat grows heavier.

you watch his face, his smile a little too wide, his gaze unfocused, and your heart tightens. you want to ask him, demand the truth, but the words stay trapped inside, tangled with fear and uncertainty. instead, you just nod again, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as you fight the urge to cry. the silence between you feels thick, and the world seems to hang in the balance, teetering between the love you’ve always known and the fear of what might come next.

satoru’s smile falters for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he can sense the tension in the air. he can see the way you cling to his shirt, the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, and there’s a brief flicker of guilt in his expression. but he masks it quickly with another, more forced, smile.

“hey,” he murmurs, his thumbs gently wiping away the tear that escapes down your cheek. “why the tears, dollface?”

he can senses your inner turmoil when you don’t answer, the tension in your body, the way you cling to the fabric of his shirt tighten like a lifeline. the haze of alcohol makes everything hazy, his thoughts muddled and his reactions slower, but he can feel the storm brewing inside you. he leans his forehead against yours, his warm breath ghosting against your skin.

“dollface,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a mix of gentleness and intoxication, “i can see that pretty little head of yours overthinking. talk to me.”

your breath catches in your throat as he leans his forehead against yours, his closeness making it harder to suppress the storm raging inside you. his warmth, the familiar scent of him mixed with alcohol, wraps around you like a blanket, but it does nothing to soothe the ache in your chest. his words, so gentle yet muddled by intoxication, only deepen the conflict inside you. his voice pulls you in, but it’s the nagging thought in the back of your mind, the one you’ve been trying to ignore, that finally breaks through.

with trembling hands, you pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your grip on his shirt tightening even further, knuckles white from the strain. the words hang in the air between you, unspoken but heavy. your heart pounds in your chest as you force yourself to ask the question you’ve been dreading.

“did you... did you cheat on me with utahime, ‘toru?”

your voice is barely above a whisper, shaking with fear and vulnerability. you can feel the weight of the question settle into the space between you, and for a moment, it feels like time stops. the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spill over, your chest tight with the possibility that everything you had believed in, everything you had built together, could shatter with his next words.

satoru's reaction is immediate, his eyes widening as the weight of your words sinks in. without hesitation, he quickly shakes his head, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly but gently, grounding you both. there's a slight frown on his face, the alcohol clouding his thoughts, making it harder for him to process what you're feeling, but his urgency to reassure you is clear.

“no, no, no,” he mutters, his voice firm despite the slur, “of course not. i’d never do that to you, never.” his words come out rushed, almost desperate, as if the mere idea of it hurts him. he leans in closer, his blue eyes more focused now, searching yours for understanding.

“i love you too much, dollface. you have to know that,” he continues, his voice softer but filled with sincerity. “there’s no one else, not utahime, not anyone. it’s just you.”

his thumbs brush against your shoulders, his frown deepening as he tries to break through the haze of alcohol. he pulls you into him again, hugging you tightly, as if holding you close would somehow prove his words, his body trembling slightly against yours with the weight of his emotion.

you swallow hard, forcing a tight smile as you look up at him, your voice barely steady. “then why did i see the news, satoru? about you dating utahime?”

the question slips from your lips, though the lump in your throat makes it harder to speak. you’re trying to keep yourself from breaking, to hold back the tears threatening to fall, but the ache in your chest won’t ease. every part of you feels fragile, like you’re on the edge of crumbling.

you watch his expression carefully, searching for something—an explanation, a sign that what you saw wasn’t real. but even as you hold onto the hope in his words, the hurt gnaws at you, and you wonder if your heart can handle the truth, whatever it may be. your grip on his shirt loosens slightly, but you can’t stop the tremble in your fingers as you push through the overwhelming emotion rising within you.

satoru's expression falters again, his grip on you tightening, the alcohol making it harder for him to control his feelings. there's a mix of guilt and frustration in his eyes, a conflict warring within him. “it’s not what you think…” he starts, his words slightly slurred, “it’s all just... it’s all for the press, you have to understand…”

he’s trying to make you understand, to make you see past the headlines and rumors, but the complexity of the situation and the amount of alcohol in his system makes it difficult. he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperate kind of possessiveness. “it’s all for publicity, doll,” he repeats, his voice a bit more pleading now. “they’re pushing a narrative, but you know me. you know what we have. i would never betray you… never.”

he leans his forehead against yours again, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you believe him. the scent of alcohol is strong, but beneath it, you can still smell the familiar scent of his cologne, the one that’s always so comfortingly ‘him’.

his words swirl around in your mind, a mix of desperation and pleading, but they don’t quite settle. the weight of his arms around you feels heavier now, almost suffocating, and as his forehead presses against yours again, you find yourself pulling away, pushing him back gently but firmly. your eyes narrow, the confusion and hurt bubbling up inside you, and before you can stop yourself, the question bursts out.

“what? so you and utahime are just pretending to date? for the media?”

your voice trembles with disbelief, the words sharp and cutting. the idea feels like a betrayal all on its own, the thought of him allowing the world to believe in something so intimate with someone else. you’re struggling to keep your emotions in check, trying to hold on to the last thread of composure you have left, but the pain in your chest only grows stronger.

your tears threaten to spill again, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. the ache in your throat tightens as you wait for his response, your heart pounding with a mixture of anger and desperation for the truth.

satoru’s eyes widen further, the flicker of surprise obvious in his expression. he almost looks taken aback by your bluntness, the alcohol impairing his ability to react in a more composed manner. he stares at you, the weight of your words and the look in your eyes making it clear that you’re not buying into his explanation.

he tries to step closer to you again, his hands reaching out to touch you, but you step back, maintaining the distance between you two. he’s not used to you being this confrontational, this insistent, and for a moment, he looks almost lost, the situation overwhelming him in his current state. he swallows hard, the guilt and confusion clear in his eyes, as he runs a hand through his hair.

“i... it’s not like that,” he finally manages to stutter out, the words coming out shaky. “it’s just for appearances, for the sake of our careers... it’s not real. i swear, dollface. you have to believe me...” his voice is pleading, desperate even, as he tries to make you understand. the sight of you pulling away is like a punch to his gut, the fear of losing you obvious in his expression.

your frown deepens as his shaky explanation sinks in, but it doesn’t soothe the ache in your chest. instead, his words make the hurt sharper, and your heart feels heavier with each passing second. you take a step back, creating more distance between you, and the pain you’ve been holding inside finally spills over into your voice.

“you didn’t even bother to talk to me about this, satoru,” you say, your voice low but thick with emotion. “i had to find out like everyone else… through the news.”

the weight of your words hangs between you, and the hurt is unmistakable in your tone. your fingers tremble at your sides as you fight back the tears you’ve been holding in. “do you know how that felt? seeing you… like that, with her, and not even having a clue?” you swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it harder to speak. you want to believe him, to hold onto the love you’ve always shared, but the betrayal of being left in the dark cuts deep.

satoru swallows hard, the impact of your words hitting him like a ton of bricks. the guilt on his face is almost tangible as he watches you step away, the hurt and disbelief in your eyes more apparent than ever before. his hands fall to his sides, the helplessness of the situation evident in his expression.

“i...” he starts, his voice trembling a bit, “i wanted to tell you... but i couldn’t...” the excuse sounds hollow even to his own ears, a weak attempt to justify something that shouldn’t have happened. he wants to reach out, to close the distance between you, but he knows that the hurt he’s caused won’t disappear with just a touch. his shoulders slump, his eyes dropping to the ground as he tries to find the right words, but nothing seems right.

“i swear, dollface...” he tries again, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s not real. she means nothing. you mean everything. you have to believe me... you have to...”

the vulnerability in his gaze is raw and desperate, the pain in his voice mirroring your own. despite the alcohol clouding his thoughts, the fear of losing you is clearer than ever. “i just didn’t want you to be upset.”

a bitter scoff escapes your lips before you can stop it, the sound cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. you cross your arms, the sarcasm lacing your words as you look at him with an almost mocking smile, your emotions spilling out in a rush.

“oh, well now that i know the truth, i’m just sooo happy, baby,” you say, your voice dripping with false enthusiasm. “euphoria, really. thank you for this… for such happiness.”

you let out a sharp laugh, rolling your eyes as your hand moves dramatically to your chest, as if to emphasize how ‘grateful’ you are. your expression is anything but happy, the hurt still etched into your features as you step closer to him, your fingers barely brushing his arm in a gesture that feels more like a mockery than comfort.

“thank you for letting me find out this way,” you continue, your voice faltering slightly beneath the sarcasm, the real pain slipping through your facade. “it’s exactly what i needed.” even as you stand so close, your words create a distance between you both that feels impossible to bridge.

your sarcasm hits him like a slap across the face, your words cutting deep. he flinches, the mixture of hurt and guilt in his eyes almost palpable. your expression is harsh, your smile laced with bitterness, and the false enthusiasm in your tone is a stark contrast to the pain evident in your gaze.

as your fingers brush against his arm, a slight shudder runs through him. he can sense your hurt, the anger behind your mocking expression, and the way you step closer, almost mockingly, only makes him feel worse. “stop…” he murmurs, his voice low and choked with emotion.

“stop it, dollface,” he tries again, his hands reaching out to grab your arms in a desperate attempt to keep you from further pulling away. “please, listen to me... it’s not what you think... i never meant to hurt you…” his voice trembles, the alcohol-fueled emotions leaving him more vulnerable than usual. he can’t stand the way you’re looking at him—with pain and disappointment in your gaze. he wants to fix this, to take it back, but the damage has already been done.

a breathy chuckle escapes you, but there's no warmth in it, only bitterness. you pull away slightly from his grip, your eyes hardening as you meet his pleading gaze. “of course you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you say, your voice low and sharp, “ou’re just a coward, satoru. a coward who only thought about himself.”

your words are harsh, but they flow out before you can stop them, your frustration and heartbreak spilling over. “you didn’t even consider how i’d feel, did you? seeing it in the news, instead of hearing it from you.”

you shake your head, taking a step back as the weight of it all crashes down on you. “you thought you could protect me by keeping me in the dark? you thought it would be easier for me to find out that way?” your voice cracks at the end, the anger you’ve been holding onto breaking under the pressure of your hurt.

you look at him, eyes burning with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall. “you always said i was the most important person in your life, but you couldn’t even give me the respect of telling me the truth.”

every word you throw at him feels like a dagger to the heart, each one sharper and more painful than the last. the alcohol has made him weaker, less in control, and your words cut through him, exposing all of his flaws and mistakes.

“i... i just wanted to protect you,” he stammers out, his grip on you loosening, his fingers trembling. “i didn’t want you to worry... i didn’t want to hurt you...” he knows his excuses sound hollow and weak, the guilt weighing heavily on him.

you take another step back, your eyes narrowing as his words hit you, hollow and weak. your heart aches, but anger swells inside you, pushing the sadness deeper. “protect me?” you repeat, your voice low and filled with disbelief. “protect me from what exactly, satoru?”

your gaze hardens as you stare at him, your lips trembling, trying to hold back the rising emotion. “from seeing you pretend to date someone else? from the truth? from feeling anything at all?”

your words cut through the air, and as you stand there, a mixture of hurt and frustration twisting inside you, you realize the weight of what he’s done. “how could you possibly think hiding this from me would make anything better?” your voice cracks slightly, but you swallow down the lump in your throat, refusing to break in front of him.

he winces at the sharpness of your tone, the pain in your voice making him ache. he knows how wrong he was, how stupid his reasoning sounds when confronted with the truth. he tries to find the right words to explain, to make you understand, but everything he thinks of sounds empty and weak.

“i… i thought if i didn’t tell you, you wouldn’t worry…” he answers, his voice low, almost a whisper. “i thought i could handle it… i thought i could keep you out of it…”

“i… i’m so sorry,” he falters, his eyes pleading with you, begging for your forgiveness. “i didn’t want to hurt you… i never wanted to hurt you. i just didn’t want you to worry. i wanted to keep you safe from the bullshit the media loves pushing, and i thought i could handle it on my own… but i was wrong, dollface. i was wrong about everything. please… please don’t hate me…”

your breath hitches, and despite trying to hold it back, the tears finally spill down your cheeks, hot and relentless. you stare at him, your voice trembling as you ask, “did you even think about me when you made that decision, satoru?”

each word carries the weight of your heartbreak, the betrayal sinking deep. your chest feels tight, your mind spinning as you search his face, his eyes—desperately looking for the love that was always there, the love that once felt so undeniable.

but now, standing before him, everything feels fragile, uncertain. “do you even love me?” you whisper, the question breaking you as it leaves your lips. the vulnerability in your voice is raw, and the silence that follows feels deafening.

you search his eyes for the truth, for something—anything—that can make this pain go away. but all you see is a man who hurt you, and you're not sure if he even knows how much.

the moment your question leaves your lips, you see the change in satoru's expression. it's as if the words struck him harder than any blow ever could. the haze of alcohol vanishes from his eyes, replaced by a raw, searing pain. for a split second, he looks shattered, but then, in an instant, his jaw tightens, and you can see anger flicker across his face.

“you are joking, right?” his voice is low, almost incredulous as he stares at you, his blue eyes sharper than before. “don’t you dare question my love for you.” his tone grows more intense, almost desperate, his hands reaching for you again. “i love you more than anything. more than anyone. everything i do, i do for you.”

his frustration simmers just below the surface, and you can feel it in his grip, his voice trembling not from the alcohol but from emotion. “how can you even ask me that after everything we’ve been through? i’ve given you everything i have—my heart, my life, my soul—and you think i don’t love you?”

he searches your eyes, his gaze pleading, desperate for you to understand, to believe him. but beneath that anger, you can still feel the weight of his guilt, the fear that you might not.

he takes another step towards you, closing the small gap between you. his hands tighten around your arms, his fingers digging into your skin as if he's afraid to let you go. “don’t you dare question my love for you,” he repeats, his voice low and intense. “i would never… i would never hurt you if i didn’t have to, dollface. you have to believe me.”

he looks at you, something between desperation and anger in his eyes, as if he’s begging you to see past the lie, to understand that he loves you more than anything in the world.

you've never seen him like this before—almost feral in his desperation to make you believe him. he's always been controlled, composed, but the thought of losing you has cracked that façade. he looks lost, raw, and desperate for you to see that he loves you, more than life itself.

your voice breaks as you softly ask, “then why are you doing this, satoru?” your words come out between the sobs, fragile and laced with the kind of pain that cuts deeper than any wound.

his grip tightens slightly, his fingers pressing into your skin, but you barely feel it, consumed by the flood of emotion. the tears continue streaming down your face, each one a reflection of the confusion, the heartbreak, the betrayal you feel.

“if you love me… why?” your voice is a whisper now, almost pleading, as if you're hoping for an answer that will make all of this hurt go away. you look up at him, searching for something, anything that will make sense of this, but all you see is the same mix of guilt and desperation in his eyes.

you want to believe him, to believe in the love you once thought was unshakable, but right now, all you can feel is the ache in your chest, the sharp sting of doubt that you never imagined you'd have to face.

“god damn it, dollface,” he mutters, his voice choked with emotion. “how can i make you believe me? how can i show you that i love you more than anything? i’d move mountains, i’d burn the world down…”

he leans forward, his forehead now touching yours, as he tries to get you to see the truth in his eyes. his voice is low and intense, his hands tighten around your arms, desperate to hold onto you, to make you understand how much he loves you.

the sight of your tears, the sound of your voice cracking with emotion, cuts through him like a knife. he reaches up to wipe away your tears, his touch gentle despite the intensity in his eyes. he can see the skepticism, the doubt in your eyes, and it only fuels his desperation.

“i would do anything for you, dollface,” he murmurs, his voice cracking. “anything. i’d give up everything, i’d burn the world down if it would make you believe me. just tell me what to do. tell me, and i’ll do it.”

you meet his gaze, searching his eyes for something—anything—that could make the pain go away. his words echo in your mind, the promise of doing anything for you, but it all feels so distant, unreachable. the hurt inside you runs too deep, and no matter how much you want to push it away, it keeps creeping in, clouding your thoughts.

your chest feels tight, and the silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. after a moment, your head falls against his chest, the steady beat of his heart only making the ache in yours worse. you stay like that, in the quiet, trying to think of what you want—what you need—but it’s too much. the hurt, the betrayal, it’s all too overwhelming.

with a shaky breath, you push him away gently, your hands trembling as you do. “i need some time,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, but firm. “i need to be alone for a while.”

his hands drop from your arms, his eyes widening slightly as you take a step back. you don’t meet his gaze again as you add, “i’ll sleep in the next room... for now.” and without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, the weight of your decision pressing down on you with every step you take.

as the door closes behind you, the silence in the room is deafening, leaving only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

satoru stares at the door, his hand still outstretched, his mind struggling to process what just happened. the room feels empty without you in it, the silence is deafening, and the weight of what he’s done crashes down on him. he sinks onto the couch, his head in his hands, the full impact of your request—your need to be alone—hitting him with a force he didn’t expect.

he’s never been without you before, not like this. the thought of you being alone in the next room, your hurt, your pain... it’s almost too much to bear.

he sits like that, motionless, for what feels like hours, his mind a maelstrom of emotions. regret, guilt, worry, desperation—it’s all there, swirling together in a toxic mix that feels like it’s tearing him apart.

he thinks about going to you, of trying to make you understand, to apologize, to do anything to make things right. but deep down, he knows that you need this, that he needs to give you this time, even if it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

the front door creaks open, and you hear it close with a soft thud, followed by the sound of a car pulling away. you sit on the edge of the bed, your heart heavy as silence envelops the room. tears stream down your face, each drop a reminder of the pain from the night before. despite the exhaustion weighing down on you, sleep eludes you as the memories replay in your mind, the hurtful words echoing like a haunting refrain.

eventually, the weight of your emotions takes its toll, and you succumb to sleep, your body finally giving in to the fatigue that has consumed you.

when you awaken, the sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the room. glancing at the clock, you realize it’s nearly noon. the realization hits you hard—satoru hasn’t returned. a pang of hurt slices through you as you consider that he left without even saying goodbye.

as you move to the kitchen, a swirl of worry settles in your chest. where did he go? did he sleep well? did he eat anything? the questions multiply, and the thought of him with someone else makes your stomach churn. you can’t shake the image of him with utahime, the fear gnawing at you like a relentless predator.

you pour yourself a cup of coffee, the familiar scent providing a momentary comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts. as you sip slowly, your mind races through countless scenarios—what if he’s out drinking again? what if he’s hurting? the worry overwhelms you, threatening to pull you under.

just as you’re lost in your thoughts, you hear the unmistakable sound of keys clattering onto the kitchen counter. your heart races as you blink, trying to process the moment. slowly, you turn your head, and there he is—satoru.

he stands in the doorway, his disheveled appearance a stark contrast to the confident man you know. his blue eyes, usually so vibrant, are ringed with redness and framed by dark circles, a testament to a sleepless night. his silver hair is tousled, sticking up in all directions as if he’s just rolled out of bed.

“satoru…” your voice comes out as a whisper, the mix of relief and apprehension washing over you. he shifts on his feet, looking vulnerable and exposed, the weight of unspoken apologies hanging heavily in the air.

“i… i’m back,” he says, his voice hoarse and shaky. he takes a hesitant step towards you, the air thick with tension as he searches your face for any sign of how you’re feeling.

you stand there, coffee cup cradled in your hands, unsure of how to react. the memories of the previous night flash through your mind—his hurtful act, your tears. despite the urge to run to him, to wrap your arms around him and forget everything, a part of you holds back.

satoru stands there, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as he watches the myriad of emotions play across your face. he looks weary, exhausted—physically, emotionally, mentally. the distance between you feels like an ocean, the air heavy with tension and unsaid apologies. he can see the war raging in your eyes, the hesitation—the doubt. and it hurts, more than he thought possible.

he takes another step forward, his hand reaching out slightly, hovering in the air as if he’s afraid to touch you, to cross that invisible line that’s been drawn between you.

he opens his mouth to speak, his mind racing through everything he could say—everything he wants to say. he wants to apologize, to explain, to make things right. he wants to hold you, to be held by you, to be close to you again. but the words seem to evaporate before they even reach his lips.

finally, he simply says your name. just your name. and the way it falls off his tongue is like a plea, a silent plea for you to understand, to forgive.

your heart races as you look up at him, his tired eyes filled with guilt and longing. the way he says your name—soft, almost reverent—feels like a plea for understanding, a desperate attempt to bridge the chasm that has formed between you. but despite the sincerity in his gaze, the memory of last night lingers, a painful reminder of betrayal.

when he takes your hand, the warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you. you want to feel comforted, to lean into him and forget the hurt, but the thought of him pretending to be with another girl cuts deep. the mere idea of it feels like a heavy weight pressing down on your chest, suffocating you.

“i… i don’t think i can stand it,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you struggle to keep your emotions in check. “seeing you with someone else in public... pretend to be all couple.”

satoru's heart clenches at your words, the pain in your voice slicing through him like a knife. he knew it was coming, knew you’d bring it up. it’s just one of the many things he’s been dreading this morning. but hearing it from you, seeing the look in your eyes, it makes everything so much more real, so much more painful.

he tightens his grip on your hand, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin, an attempt to soothe, to comfort. “i know,” he responds, his voice almost a whisper.

satoru's heart aches as he sees the hurt in your eyes, the pain mirrored in your expression. the weight of your words hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the chasm that has grown between you. he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, to gather his thoughts.

“that’s why,” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, “i spoke to the company earlier.” he pauses, searching your gaze for understanding. “they were furious.”

he cups your cheek gently with his free hand, the warmth of his palm a stark contrast to the cold reality of the situation. “i never wanted you to be caught in the crossfire of all this,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “the pressure… the expectations… i just thought it would be easier if we kept it private. but i see now how wrong that was.”

his thumb brushes softly against your skin, an attempt to convey the depth of his remorse. “i was so focused on protecting you that I forgot what you really needed—transparency, honesty. i wanted to shield you from the chaos, but instead, I just pushed you away.” satoru’s eyes search yours, filled with regret and determination. “i’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. i’ll fight for us, even if it means facing the wrath of the company. i want to be open about us, to show the world how much you mean to me.”

you blink in surprise, confusion flooding your mind as you process his words. “what do you mean you spoke to the company?” you ask, your voice wavering slightly. “wwhat did they say?”

but before he can respond, satoru turns on the tv, and your heart drops at the sight of him. he looks so different—disheveled, exhausted, eyes red-rimmed, as if he hasn’t slept in days. the conference is chaotic, the flashing lights of cameras blinding as reporters hurl questions at him, but he stands there, unwavering.

you stare at the screen, completely stunned. your eyes flicker from the television back to satoru, who stands quietly beside you. the image of him on the screen—a mess of disheveled hair, red eyes, and exhaustion—contrasts sharply with the composed, confident man you know. your heart pounds as you take in what’s unfolding before you: the rumors, the flashing cameras, his raw vulnerability on full display.

the conference is chaotic. journalists fire rapid questions at him, flashes of light bursting in quick succession, but satoru doesn’t waver. he remains steadfast, repeating only one thing—that the rumors aren’t true, that he’s had a girlfriend for years. you feel a lump in your throat, your chest tightening with emotion as the realization sets in. he did this… for you.

you turn to him, your voice shaky, barely above a whisper, “satoru… why you did all of this…?”

he doesn’t speak immediately, just watches you, his expression soft yet filled with a mixture of guilt and hope. slowly, he nods, his thumb still brushing gently over your hand. “i couldn’t let you think for one more second that i’d ever choose anyone else over you,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse from everything he’s been through. “i had to do something… anything to show you.”

your eyes well up with tears again, but this time it’s not from pain or anger. you’re overwhelmed, touched by how far he’s gone to try and fix this. “but you didn’t have to—” you start, but he cuts you off, shaking his head.

“yes, i did,” he insists. “i needed to prove it. not just with words, but with action. i’m not letting you walk away thinking i’d ever betray you like that.”

satoru's gaze is intense, his eyes fixed on you as he continues, “i couldn’t let you think for a second that i'd even entertain the thought of being with someone else. you mean everything to me, and i had to make a statement, a public one, because i can’t bear the thought of you doubting that. not for a second.”

“i know i messed up,” he continues, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and determination, “but i swear to you, i’ll never do anything to hurt you on purpose ever again.”

your heart races as you absorb his words, a whirlwind of emotions flooding your mind. the intensity of his gaze makes you feel both cherished and guilty. the weight of the situation settles heavily on your shoulders, and you can’t shake the feeling that you might be the cause of turmoil in his life.

you swallow hard, your throat dry as you find your voice. “but what about your series?” you ask, anxiety creeping into your tone. “what happens now? you just… put everything on the line for me?” the guilt gnaws at you, and you can't help but worry that your struggles might ruin his career. “satoru, i didn’t want this to affect you. i thought you’d want to keep things private to avoid backlash.”

the thought of him facing consequences for his public declaration sends a shiver down your spine. you look at him, your eyes wide with concern. “what did they say? are they going to fire you? or change the series because of this?” his silence hangs in the air, and you brace yourself for his answer, anxiety wrapping around your heart like a vise.

satoru’s eyes soften even further as he looks down at you, his hand still holding yours, but his grip has tightened slightly. he’s clearly nervous—nervous about what he has to say next, nervous about how you’ll react.

he takes a deep breath before responding, his voice measured and controlled. “i’m not getting fired, dollface.” his words, though relieving, don’t seem to quell the anxiety in your eyes. it’s clear that there’s more to the story, and he can see that you’re bracing for the worst.

satoru watches your expression shift from worry to confusion, then a flicker of understanding as he continues. “they just decided to kill me off in the middle of the second season,” he says, forcing a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He chuckles lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “the writer never really liked me anyway.”

he sees the way your brows furrow, and his heart aches for you. he wants to ease your concerns, to show you that his world isn’t crumbling because of this. “it’s all part of the plan,” he adds, his tone playful, even if the situation isn’t exactly ideal. “maybe i’ll get a dramatic comeback. who doesn’t love a good resurrection arc, right?”

he cups your nape gently, his thumb brushing along your skin as he leans down to place a tender kiss on your forehead. “i’d do it a million times over for you, you know? i’d take the hit if it means you feel secure in my love. No one else matters more than you.”

as he pulls back slightly, he searches your gaze, hoping to see a hint of reassurance that you understand his intentions. he wants you to feel loved and protected, no matter the chaos that surrounds them.

your heart feels heavy as you gaze up at satoru, the weight of your worry settling deep in your chest. “are you sure about this?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t want to be the person who ruins your career.”

the concern in your eyes reflects the turmoil inside you, the fear that your feelings and insecurities could jeopardize everything he’s worked so hard for. you search his face for any sign of doubt, but all you find is unwavering determination.

satoru’s expression shifts, and he gently squeezes your hand, trying to convey his certainty. “dollface, you could never ruin my career,” he reassures you, his voice steady and calm. “if anything, you’re the reason i want to fight for it. i don’t care what they think or what the company says. my love for you is worth any backlash i might face.”

he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours, grounding you both in the moment. “i’d rather give it all up than let you feel like you’re the problem. you are my priority, and nothing will ever change that.” his blue eyes search yours, pleading for you to believe him, to trust that he’s all in.

your heart pounds in your chest as satoru’s words sink in, the rawness of his vulnerability hitting you like a tidal wave. his career, his reputation, his future—he’s willing to risk all of it for you, and the weight of that sacrifice leaves you reeling.

you look at him, the love and determination evident in his eyes, and you struggle to find the words to express the mixture of gratitude and guilt churning inside you. you don’t want to be the one causing ripples in his world, but his steadfast resolve makes it impossible to deny the intensity of his feelings.

satoru notices the turmoil in your expression, the way your brow furrows with guilt as you process his words. it cuts through him like a knife, the thought that you might still feel responsible for any turmoil in his life. he can’t stand to see you in pain, especially not when it’s tied to his choices.

he takes a deep breath, trying to ease your mind. “hey,” he says gently, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his, “i’ve got a few offers for new series and movies lined up. i’m not in danger of losing everything, i promise. they’re just waiting for me to finish this one.”

a small, reassuring smile crosses his face, one that he hopes will lift some of the weight off your shoulders. “this is just a bump in the road, and i’m more than capable of handling it. what matters is you. i need you to know that I’ll always choose you, no matter what.”

he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with sincerity. “we’ll figure this out together, okay? you’re not a burden; you’re my motivation.”

your heart squeezes at satoru's words, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. the guilt, the worry, the love—it's all flooding through you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. but in that vulnerability, you also see the depth of his devotion, his unwavering commitment to you.

“but… i don’t want you to choose,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i don't want you to feel like you have to sacrifice your career... because of me.”

satoru hums softly at your words, the sound reverberating with warmth as he processes your concerns. with a gentle yet deliberate motion, he lifts you to sit on the counter, his hands steadying you as your thighs rest against the cool surface. he positions himself closer, his forehead resting against the counter beside your body, effectively caging you in.

“i can’t sacrifice you for my career either,” he says, his voice low and earnest, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours. “you’re the one thing i won’t compromise on. i’d give up everything for you, even if it meant starting over. no job, no series, nothing could ever mean more to me than you.”

his expression is fierce, a combination of determination and vulnerability that makes your heart race. “so please, don’t worry about me. we’re in this together. we’ll figure it out side by side, and i’ll make sure you never feel like you’re standing in the way of my dreams.”

as you look into his eyes, the depth of his words washes over you, and a warmth spreads through your chest. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing the reassurance of his presence. the feel of his warmth against you brings a sense of comfort, a connection that calms the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

“i just… i don’t want to be the reason for your struggles,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “i care about you so much, satoru. i want you to shine, to succeed, and to be happy.”

holding him tightly, you feel the tension in his body ease as he leans into you, his breath mingling with yours. “i know we’ll figure this out together,” you whisper, your heart swelling with love. “but promise me you won’t carry this weight alone. we’re a team, right?”

satoru’s eyes flutter shut as he absorbs your words, a mixture of gratitude and relief washing over him. your unwavering support and love are like a balm on his weary soul, and he melts into your embrace, his head resting on your shoulder.

“together,” he affirms, his voice a whisper against your skin. “you’re not just my partner; you’re my foundation. you give me the strength to face anything, good or bad. we’re in this together, and no one, not even the company, can come between us.”

he lifts his head, his eyes studying your face. “you’re not a burden or an inconvenience, dollface. you’re my priority, my everything. i may have an image to uphold, but nothing is worth more than your happiness, your comfort. i’d take on the world for you if i have to.”

a flicker of vulnerability passes across his face. “just promise me that you’ll keep communicating with me. if you ever feel like you’re in my way or like you’re causing me trouble, i need—no, i want you to tell me, okay?”

a warm smile spreads across your face at his words, the sincerity in his eyes soothing the lingering doubts in your mind. you nod, feeling a rush of affection for him. “okay,” you mumble softly, your voice filled with reassurance.

a wave of visible relief washes over satoru’s face as you agree to his request. the tension in his body eases visibly, and he reaches up to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.

“thank you,” he whispers, his hand resting on your cheek. “i just... i need to know that you’re okay, that we’re okay. that, even when things are messy, we’re still you and me. always.”

you nod, a soft smile still gracing your lips as you gently cup his cheeks in your hands. feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms, you lean in closer, your heart racing in anticipation.

satoru’s heart races at the touch of your hands against his cheeks, the warmth of your palms sending electric currents through his body. your lips meet his, a sense of peace washes over you, the world around you fading into the background. it’s a sweet, tender kiss, filled with unspoken promises and the depth of your feelings for him. as your lips meet his, he savors the taste of you, melting into the kiss like a man starved.

you pull back slightly, your foreheads resting against each other, and whisper, “always,” letting the word linger in the air between you, a vow that encapsulates everything you both cherish. it’s a simple word, but it carries the weight of your love, a reminder that no matter the chaos, you’ll always find your way back to each other.

satoru feels the weight of your promise like a gentle caress. a content smile spreads across his face as he brushes his nose against yours, a whisper of affectionate laughter escaping his lips.

“always,” he repeats quietly, his blue eyes sparkling with love. “me and you.”