#also I would recommend reading Cost

[sadiecoocoo]

Does anyone have any good fic recs for echo and Crosshair whump? Preferably pre-the bad batch series fics. I love their dynamic so much if fighting but also caring about each other even though Crosshair is a bitch

[mysteriousboo]

Boop of the day!

Do you have a favorite manga?

Personally it's Bungo Stray Dogs. It's kind of a fanfiction based on real author and their work like Fyodor Dostoevsky got the ability Crime and Punishment. They have power based on one of their work. We mainly follow the Armed Detective Agency in Yokohoma. My fav character here is Fyodor ! (I also love Dazai)

Boop back!!

I have seen some of the bungou stray dogs the anime!! It's good!! My favorite manga is prolly hunter x hunter, which sounds like a basic ass answer but hunter x hunter is just *chef's kiss*!!!

Another manga that i enjoyed reading is Kanojo ni Naritai Kimi to Boku!! It was recommended to me by a friend and it's so good!! It's like heartstopper, but WAY better because the creator isn't xenophobic!! plus, the creator also didn't grow up in queer friendly spaces, unlike Alice oseman(*eye roll*), so it's a lot better to read!! because the majority of the population also grows up in a more of a non-queer friendly environment!! It's hits harder to me on an emotional level, unlike heartstopper!!

[faeriekit]

...I had a guy come in today asking about how to get his kids library cards. I told him. He asked me how hard it would be for them to get them, and I said that all it took was their presence and his government ID.

He told me about how nice the system was here, where it was so easy to get a card; he said that there was a beautiful public library in Beijing that was top of the line and everything, but that the only way to access it was if you were a high ranking government official or a top professor or something. Instead, our library "serves the reader." His kids will be able to take chapter books home at no cost. He'll even be able to get books in Chinese here so that his native language skills don't atrophy.

I didn't even really know what to say, so I told him how to ask us to buy books for him that we don't already have so that he can still read them at no extra cost. I don't know how to shore up what it must feel like to know that there are books out there you can't read; I've always grown up with a good library nearby. It reminded me of working in my old library, though, where families who spoke Spanish were startled to find out we took any government ID with a formal address in town— even foreign IDs— so that their kids could get access to all of our titles in all the languages we offered.

Ah. Anyway, I hope you check out a library book with this thought in mind. I checked out the first volume of YJ98 today with that thought in mind. I didn't have to pay anything. I put it on hold, and there it was.

Edit: for those who struggle with reading comprehension; no, this patron interaction is not meant to represent the status of the Chinese public library system at large nor the country of China itself; this was my response to a random Chinese immigrant dad's anecdotal concerns as he expressed them to me, because the whole breadth of concern I'm responsible for while on desk starts and ends at recommending which library services would fulfill his needs. If you think he misunderstood or was lying about the status of public libraries in China, that isn't something I'm charged to verify before writing my thoughts and feelings about the patron interactions I was exposed through throughout my day. Expecting anything else is absurd.

Edit edit: Also, your library may not actually use Libby as the distribution method for their ebook collection. The best way to find out about how to access your library's ebook collection is to call them directly.

[irawhiti]

while everyone's rightfully talking about oppenheimer and its flaws regarding the erasure of japanese and native american voices regarding nuclear testing and detonations, i'd like to bring up the fact that pacific islanders have also been severely impacted by nuclear testing under the pacific proving grounds, a name given by the US to a number of sites in the pacific that were designated for testing nuclear weapons after the second world war, at least 318 of which were dropped on our ancestral homes and people. i would like if more people talked about this.

important sections are bolded for ease of reading. i would appreciate this being reblogged since it's a bit alarming how few people know about this.

--

in 1946, the indigenous peoples of pikinni (the bikini atoll) were forcibly relocated off of their islands so that nuclear tests could be run on the atoll. at least 23 nuclear bombs were detonated on this inhabited island chain, including 20 hydrogen bombs. many pasifika were irreversibly irradiated, all of them were starved during multiple forced relocations, and the island chain is still unsafe to live on despite multiple cleanup attempts. there are several craters visible from space that were left on the atoll from nuclear testing.

the forced relocation was to several different small and previously uninhabited islands over several decades, none of which were able to sustain traditional lifestyles which directly lead to further starvation and loss of culture and identity. there is a reason that pacific islanders choose specific islands to inhabit including access to fresh water, food, shelter, cloth and fibre, climate, etc. and obviously none of these reasons were taken into account during the displacements.

200 pikinni were eventually moved back to the atoll in the 1970s but dangerous levels of strontium-90 were found in drinking water in 1978 and the inhabitants were found to have abnormally high levels of caesium-137 in their bodies.

--

i'm going to put the rest of this post under a readmore to improve the chances of this being reblogged by the general public. i would recommend you read the entirety of the post since it really isn't long and goes into detail about, say, entire islands being fully, utterly destroyed. like, wiped off of the map. without exaggeration, entire islands were disintegrated.

--

as i just mentioned, ānewetak (the eniwetok atoll) was bombed so violently that an entire island, āllokļap, was permanently and completely destroyed. an entire island. it's just GONE. the world's first hydrogen bomb was tested on this island. the crater is visibly larger than any of the islands next to it, more than a mile in diameter and roughly fifteen storeys deep. the hydrogen bomb released roughly 700 times the energy released during the bombing of hiroshima. this would, of course, be later outdone by other hydrogen bombs dropped on the pacific, reaching over 1000 times the energy released.

one attempt to clean up the waste on ānewetak was the construction of a large ~380ft dome, colloquially known as the tomb, on runit island. the island has been essentially turned into a nuclear waste dump where several other islands of ānewetak have moved irradiated soil to and, due to climate change, rising seawater is beginning to seep into the dome, causing nuclear waste to leak out. along with this, if a large typhoon were to hit the dome, there would be a catastrophic failure followed by a leak of nuclear waste into the surrounding land, drinking water, and ocean. the tomb was built haphazardly and quickly to cut costs.

hey, though, there's a plus side! the water in the lagoon and the soil surrounding the tomb is far more radioactive than the currently contained radioactive waste. a typhoon wouldn't cause (much) worse irradiation than the locals and ocean already currently experience, anyway! it's already gone to shit! and who cares, right, the only ""concern"" is that it will just further poison the drinking water of the locals with radioactive materials. this can just be handwaved off as a nonissue, i guess. /s

--

at least 36 bombs were detonated in the general vicinity of kiritimati (christmas island) and johnson atoll. while johnson atoll has seemingly never been inhabited by polynesians, kiritimati was used intermittently by polynesians (and later on, micronesians) for several hundred years. many islands in the pacific were inhabited seasonally and likewise many pacific islanders should be classified as nomadic but it has always been convenient for the goal of white supremacy and imperalism to claim that semi-inhabited areas are completely uninhabited, claimable pieces of terra nullius.

regardless of the current lack of inhabitants on these islands, the nuclear detonations have caused widespread ecological damage to otherwise delicate island ecosystems and have further spread nuclear fallout across the entirety of the pacific ocean.

--

while the marshall islands, micronesia, and the surrounding areas of melanesia and polynesia were (and still are) by far the worst affected by these atrocities, the entirety of the pacific has been irradiated to some extent due to ocean/wind currents freely spreading nuclear fallout through the water and air. all in all, at least 318 nuclear bombs were detonated across the pacific. i say "at least" because these are just the events that have been declassified and frankly? i wouldn't be shocked to find out they didn't stop there.

please don't leave the atomic destruction of the pacific out of this conversation. we've been displaced, irradiated, murdered, poisoned, and otherwise mass exterminated by nuclear testing on purpose and we are still suffering because of it. many of us have radiation poisoning, many of us have no safe ancestral home anymore. i cannot fucking state this enough, ISLANDS WERE DISINTEGRATED INTO NONEXISTENCE.

look, this isn't blaming people for not talking about us or knowing the extent of these issues, but it's... insidiously ironic that i haven't seen a single post that even mentions pacific islanders in a conversation about indigenous voices/voices of colour being ignored when it comes to nuclear tests and the devastation they've caused.

[darkmatilda]

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after a terrible day at work, you find an unexpected dose of comfort in an absurd late-night conversation with your coworker.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x newbaumember!femalereader, you make a huge mistake at work (unspecified) for which you get seriously chewed out by hotch, too many beds trope, ridiculously long considering the entire plot revolves around a single conversation, gets kinda wild at the end, spencer hits his head, but it’s nothing serious

𝐚/𝐧: the ending inspired by a situation from my life, but don’t worry, my head is fine now (in the general sense of the word) (no one kissed my forehead...) i recommend reading it in bed before sleep <33

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5.7 k

"Hotch, but I thought—"

"It doesn't matter what you thought," your boss replied in his typical, emotionless tone, which in this particular situation sent a distinct chill down your spine. Every word he uttered felt like a frozen dagger, driven straight between your ribs and left there, while the coldness spread across your skin in the form of goosebumps. "What you did was not only reckless but also undermined all of today’s hard work by the entire team. They put tremendous effort into locating the unsub and cornering him at that specific location, and because of your decision, he managed to escape. Every additional day this man remains free could cost someone their life—an innocent person."

You stood before him in an empty parking lot across from the hotel where your entire team was staying. It wasn’t exactly the typical setting for delivering a reprimand, but since you were far from the office, there wasn’t a better option at hand. And while you were teetering on the edge of tears—tears you were desperately holding back to avoid appearing like a weak little girl in his eyes—you were grateful for one thing. Grateful that he had chosen to chastise you in private. One-on-one. Away from everyone else.

A moment of silence fell between you, and you tried not to lower your head like a chastised child—but that’s exactly how you felt. Not just ashamed, but overwhelmingly guilty. As someone who had only recently joined the BAU, you’d never made such an egregious mistake before. A mistake that could cost someone their life. Deep down, you had clung to the naive hope that this moment would never come. That if you followed the instructions of those more experienced than you with feigned confidence, something like this could be avoided.

But reality had placed you in a completely different position—one where, for a brief moment, the weight of everything rested squarely on your shoulders. You failed, and the unsub escaped.

The wind around you blew with a certain bitterness, tugging at your hair. It drowned out the sound of your heavy breathing, your racing heartbeat, and the loud gulp as you swallowed. Hotch, saying nothing, studied you with a measured gaze. You couldn’t help but wonder if he regretted allowing you into this job.

“I wanted you to be aware of that,” he said, his tone less harsh now but tinged with a certain disappointment that only deepened the guilt gnawing at you. He nodded, signaling you were free to go. “That’s all I had to say.”

He walked away, and watching his figure dissolve into the darkness in such a dramatic manner, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The laugh immediately turned into the beginning of a sob, which you quickly stifled, waving your hand in front of your face. You stood there for a moment, your feet seemingly rooted to the parking lot, as though the concrete were still fresh, hardening around your shoes.

In your experience, failure almost always came hand in hand with a sense of vulnerability, transporting you into a completely different, weaker body, one without any shields. All the achievements of the past few years, including making it into the BAU at such a young age, seemed to melt away, and once again, you were nothing.

You knew you couldn’t stand there all night, but in a way, it felt safer. In the motel, you might run into someone from the team. You might accidentally meet their gaze, and you’d see the disappointment in their eyes. After all those weeks of trying to prove your worth to them, of showing that you even belonged in this job, the last thing you wanted was to face that look.

To muster some courage, you took a deep, slow breath. You needed to slip into your room unnoticed, lie down in bed, hoping that the night would at least slightly cleanse you of your guilt. Hotch was absolutely right. Not only had you wasted an entire day of hard work, but you’d also put civilians from that area in danger. What if tomorrow another person became a victim?

The thought tormented you so much that by the time you reached your door, you were massaging your temples. You inserted the key you had picked up from the front desk into the lock, turned it, and was about to pull the handle… but it was locked. Frustrated, you figured the universe had simply decided to unite all of its forces against you as some kind of punishment. Before you could resort to a tired kick at the door and curl up in a ball in the hallway, you tried again. This time, the door opened without issue.

So absorbed in yourself, your situation, and your grievances, you didn’t even notice that inside, not only was the light on, but there were someone’s belongings—and, most importantly, someone else. It wasn’t until you took off your coat and stepped further into the room (if you could even call it that, it was an exceptionally small space) and came face to face with Spencer Reid that you realized you weren’t alone.

You stopped mid-step, stunned as if the least expected thing at that moment had just appeared before you—a turtle on stilts wearing a cowboy hat, or some other kind of religious prophet.

Quick note—this wasn't the first time you and Reid had shared a room during cases. Specifically, the bed. It all started when you found out he struggled with a fear of the dark, and someone’s presence really helped him feel better. In fact, at first, he insisted on sleeping on the floor, but you couldn't just watch him suffer on that uncomfortable surface every night. And, you had to admit, sometimes after an especially harrowing day in your, let’s be honest, stressful job, it felt nice to fall asleep next to someone.

As usual, it was him who came to you. Late at night, to your room, when he felt like sleeping would be particularly difficult. He was never there from the start…

"It turns out all the rooms here are double," he blurted out hastily upon seeing you, his tone overly explanatory.

When you walked in, he was in the middle of pulling something out of his suitcase. He straightened up, and you noticed he was wearing a loose T-shirt, his hair damp from a shower, and in his hand, he held that familiar white sweater you often teased him about, the one with an embroidered bear wearing glasses.

"I mean, the rest of the team got roomed together too, so we’re not some weird exception. I hope this doesn’t bother you. If it does, well, maybe we can switch somehow… I know Elle and JJ are together, and I think they only have two beds in their room, but maybe... or I could go with Derek…”

"Oh, come on," you waved dismissively, your tone sounding a bit irritated, like you were shooing away an annoying fly. The truth was, you were exhausted from the day and didn’t want to worry about the accommodation on top of everything else.

Reid stopped mid-sentence, his lips slightly parted. You felt guilty again as you had no reason to speak to him like that. He hadn’t done anything to deserve your frustration.

"I'm sorry," you sighed, your tense posture easing a little as you realized you were no longer outside, under the sharp, yet truthful words of your boss. "Really... I'm sorry, Reid. It doesn't bother me at all. Not one bit," you reassured him, sincerely.

He studied you in silence for a moment, his face showing a concerned, analytical expression.

"Actually, we’ve shared a room before," you added almost immediately, forcing a little chuckle. "And not just once. Well, at least now we have two beds…"

"Did you... did you talk to Hotch?"

The question was asked with hesitation, on a breath. Well, it finally meant confronting everything that had happened that day. You looked him straight in the eyes, searching for judgment or any hint of dislike toward you. But there was none. Instead, you found concern and discomfort at the fact that he had even brought up the subject.

"It’s... it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it," he quickly corrected himself, giving a slight nod. "You... you have every right, I don’t expect you to explain anything to me, your conversation with the boss is your private matter... oh God, I feel like with every word I say, my statement is losing more and more sense, and I’m getting more and more tangled in it, isn’t that right?"

He stared at you with furrowed brows, waiting for your reaction. It turned out to be... a burst of laughter. You honestly couldn’t help yourself.

“I hate to admit it, but yeah, you’re right. You completely lost your train of thought. Maybe we should just pretend I’ve only just walked through that door, huh?”

“That’s... that’s actually a very good suggestion. So... so, uh, hi?”

Your lips curved into a smile, this time genuine.

“Hi, Reid.”

He managed to improve your mood in less than five minutes after you’d received a serious reprimand. You were immensely glad to have ended up with him in the room lottery. Shaking your head in disbelief, you began getting ready for bed without a word. He didn’t say anything either, sensing you needed a bit of space after everything that had happened. Speaking of space...

“This room is alarmingly small, don’t you think?” you said, returning from the shower and slowly sliding under your blanket. Fifteen minutes under scalding hot water had helped your body relax, and you no longer felt like you might throw up on your own feet at any moment. “It’s like some sort of exclusive cupboard under the stairs. Still a cupboard, though. Look, I can practically touch you.”

You stretched out your arm to demonstrate. Sure enough, even though you were sitting on neighboring beds, your fingertips almost brushed the fabric of his shirt. Between you was a massive nightstand made of dark wood, the same as the windowsill and the floor. On it sat a slightly old-fashioned bedside lamp with a glass base and a slightly yellowed lampshade. Other than that, there wasn’t much furniture. Not that there would’ve been room for any.

“Do you hear that?” Reid asked enigmatically, sitting up straighter on his bed.

You looked at him, intrigued.

“Listen closely…is that…paper rustling? Morgan drafting his resignation?”

You chuckled. Your coworker had a particular sensitivity to the motels you stayed in and their condition. He firmly believed that since you risked your lives almost daily during dangerous cases and investigations, you deserved accommodations that were at least decent. And that wasn’t always what you got.

“Don’t worry, as long as the shower has hot water, we don’t have to fear him leaving,” you said. “Though now that I think about it, I can’t blame Harry.”

“Harry?”

“Potter. If I lived in such a claustrophobic little room, I’d convince myself I was a wizard too. Can I turn off the lamp?"

You politely asked, as usual, leaving plenty of room for potential conversation. Aware of his fear, you always ensured he felt comfortable with the encroaching darkness. Reid looked at you with a hint of hesitation.

"Maybe... maybe it could stay on for a bit longer? If that's..."

"That’s okay," you finished for him, knowing what he intended to say.

A fleeting, grateful expression crossed his face. Seeing it, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You were glad he no longer felt as ashamed of his unease with the dark. Besides, you preferred the light to stay on too. You were afraid of what the darkness might conceal—the worries and anxieties it could bring… already was bringing.

Mainly, it was the looping words of your boss, the thought of how you'd messed up, and the rest of the team. Well, there was one thing that eased your mind in that regard: knowing that Reid was lying in the bed next to yours and recalling the look on his face when he saw you. He wasn’t angry that you’d let the unsub get away. Maybe the others weren’t as furious with you as you’d imagined.

Or maybe it was the opposite?

Maybe he, as the second-youngest member of the team after you, was the only one showing you any understanding. And the others, perhaps, harbored nothing but disdain, their resentment growing stronger at the mere thought of you…

"You're shivering."

Reid's observation reached your ears as you lay on your side, facing away from him. His voice was gentle, blending seamlessly with the quiet that had previously enveloped the room, not cutting through the sound of your sleepy breaths but accompanying it. Not knowing how to respond, you gave a small shrug. He probably saw it—you could feel his gaze on you. It wasn't intrusive, just a worried glance from the corner of his eye.

"I could turn up the temperature if you're cold. Do you want me to?"

Your trembling had nothing to do with the cold, but admitting that felt like too much. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, trying to steady your restless body.

"Yeah, if you don’t mind," you murmured in response.

It was easier to blame it on the chill. Still, hearing him get up and move toward the thermostat, you felt a pang of guilt for pulling him out of bed. He should already be asleep. There was so much work waiting for you both tomorrow. Another day of the investigation—a case that could have been solved already if not for you…

"I'm afraid…it doesn’t seem to work," Reid said thoughtfully. He fiddled with it for a moment longer before letting out a sigh and returning to his bed, though he didn’t lie down right away. He paused in the narrow space between your beds, and you felt his gaze again, wondering what it meant this time.

"Maybe… I don’t know, would you want my sweater? You know which one. It's…too warm for me, but since you're freezing…”

Reid’s voice was soft, tinged with an almost shy kindness that made your chest tighten. You didn’t need to turn around to picture the small, uncertain smile that likely accompanied his offer. Of course, you knew exactly which one he meant. He had received it as a Christmas gift from Penelope, and it was quite light and breathable. But what truly made it a staple in his pajamas was the adorable bear wearing glasses that appeared on the front. Sometimes, when you slept in the same bed, you could feel the softness of its fabric.

You had just turned toward him, a hint of hesitation in your eyes. You weren’t actually cold—you had been lying about that all along—but still... the offer lingered in your mind. His kindness, followed by the concern. You felt that taking his specific sweater, which was not only comfortable but also... well, his, could effectively calm your trembling limbs and ease your anxiety.

"Would you like to give it to me?" you asked, making sure. "You don't have to."

He shrugged slightly and immediately bent down to grab the suitcase tucked under the bed. The sweater in question was right on top, so he could reach for it at any moment when he felt the need for an extra layer.

"I know I don't have to," he replied, pausing for a moment with the sweater in hand. "But, you know, I want to. It's just a sweater."

"Won't Penelope be mad if you're giving it away like that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She’d be furious…" he started, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the edge of your bed, his forehead lightly furrowed. After a serious moment of hesitation, he sat on the bed, as gently as if he feared it would burn him. He stretched the sweater out towards you. "…if I gave it to anyone else. But in this case, she'd probably scold me if I didn’t give it to you."

You took it from him. Though it wasn’t one of those thick, bulky sweaters, it felt surprisingly heavy in your hands.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," you replied after a moment of hesitation, letting out a sigh. "After today."

Reid looked at your face in silence. Suddenly, you started regretting not turning off the lamp after all. His gaze seemed piercing, too piercing. It surely noted every shadow of doubt and shame cast by the subtle changes in your expression.

“That’s what’s worrying you, isn’t it?”

For a moment, you both stared at each other in silence. You sighed, shifting slightly to the side, making room beside you.

“Come on. It’s easier for me to talk when I don’t have someone directly in front of me.”

Surprised, he stared at the small space next to you, shaking his head slightly.

“But… this bed is kind of ridiculously small, don’t you think?”

“I’m not that wide, Reid. If that’s what you’re suggesting…”

“That’s absolutely not what I meant, and I definitely wasn’t suggesting anything,” he quickly explained. “Well, maybe apart from the fact that every tiny movement will risk us both falling off…” He looked at you with an unchanged expression, patiently pointing to the spot next to you and sighed in defeat. “Okay, I feel like I’m not winning this one…”

Well, he had a point. After a while of shifting around, trying to find a position where you wouldn’t keep elbowing each other in the ribs, and after countless accidental jabs and whispered apologies, it ended with him half-lying, half-sitting, leaning against the headboard of the narrow bed, while you lay flat on your back, your head resting on the pillow. His figure cast a gentle shadow over you, making the room feel darker than it really was. It had a calming effect. Or maybe it was just the presence of someone so close by. Or perhaps it was the touch of the soft sweater, the fabric resting between your fingers, in the way one holds a rosary. Maybe it was a little bit of all those things.

"I screwed up today," you said. Though your voice was soft, there was no trace of gentleness in your tone. From the way you were lying, you could see his face, and you noticed his lips part slightly, as if to deny it. "And don't try to convince me otherwise, Reid. I knew that even before Hotch said it to my face."

You heard him sigh softly.

"I guess it wasn't a pleasant conversation."

"Oh, Reid, it was like a horror movie. But I don't blame him for anything he said. I deserved to hear it all from someone else's mouth, not just from my own head." Restlessly, you began to fiddle with the sweater like a stress toy. He watched the movement of your hands, alternating between that and the slight trembling of your chin. "At least the talk with him is over. Now I'm scared... scared of what’s with the rest of the team."

You voiced your biggest worry out loud, and there was a silence as he pondered it.

“I think… I think we’ve talked about this before,” he replied finally, clearing his throat. “About how you’re afraid of what others will think of you. And I don’t want to repeat myself, but... you need to look at it a bit differently. We all started somewhere, we were all rookies. If we got mad at each other every time someone messed up, well, there wouldn’t be a team. Of course, we keep in mind all the mistakes we've made in the past..."

“You're good at comforting...” you muttered bitterly.

"...But we don’t dwell on them unnecessarily," he finished. "We're only human, you know. It’s estimated that each person makes about five to seven mistakes a day. If we assume you live to be about eighty... though of course, I wish you much more than that, that would be between 150,000 and 200,000."

You snorted, listening to those statistics.

“I feel like I’ve already used up half of my lifetime quota today,” you confessed, while also reflecting on the first part of his statement. About the team, who, according to him, wasn’t going to hold a grudge against you…

Reid paused for a moment, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s not the end of the world,” he said after a while. “Just make sure you’re really careful when you’re old. You won’t forget when your grandkids have birthdays.”

“Damn, I think that’s the problem. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish. I’ll probably mix up their names. Or call them all by the same one. The prettiest one, of course. The least common one.”

“Just make sure you get a good calendar,” he suggested. “One that’ll remember everything for you. Dates, names.”

“And the number for the rheumatologist.”

“And the number for the rheumatologist,” he agreed.

You spent a long moment without bringing up any new topics, but laughing quietly about the course of the conversation. If you looked at it that way, this was probably the only time in your life you talked to someone about being an old lady with a questionable memory and joint problems with amusement rather than sheer terror. Although the bed was seriously small, you felt more comfortable than ever before. You were sinking deeper into the mattress, into his side, into relaxation. You wondered if and when, or even if, he planned to go back to his own bed. There was really no reason for him to stay...but was there any reason for him to leave?

“And you?” you spoke again after a long moment. You felt like the only way to keep him around was by saying something. Not that you were desperate to have him stay… “Have you ever messed up on a case? Like, seriously messed up?”

"I could lie and say I haven't," he noticed.

He shifted slightly, likely due to exhaustion, as his back had been slowly sliding down the headboard for a while, until it finally sank into the mattress. His head rested on the pillow right next to yours, closer than ever before. Well, you could only blame the narrow bed for that. Because of the tight space, you had to lie on your side, which meant your breath brushed against his cheek.

"You could. But then I'd ask Elle for the truth, and you'd only end up compromising yourself."

"That's true. That's why I'm telling you. Just promise you won't laugh."

"This sounds serious. Come on, what did you do?" you asked, genuinely curious, a smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, or let me guess."

He lay on his back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. However, when you suggested it, he slowly and hesitantly turned onto his side as well, so that you were face to face. He probably wanted to see your reaction, the laughter you'd burst into once he told you, whatever it was.

"You have three guesses," he announced. He tried to gesture to you encouragingly with his head, but then, for a split second, his chin brushed against yours. Slightly flustered, he quickly froze again.

For a moment, something changed in your breath. You bit your lip, thinking. His gaze briefly dropped to it.

"Okay, so that’s the first one," you said, taking in more air than you probably needed. You didn’t really understand what was happening, but it seemed like you were running out of oxygen faster than you should have been. "Did you confuse your weapon with a taser?"

"Really, that was the first thing that came to your mind when you thought about a mistake I might have made?" he scoffed. His breath warmed your face in a pleasant way.

"Oh, sorry, but it’s really hard for me to come up with anything when it comes to a genius with eidetic memory," you replied, rolling your eyes. "I don’t know, did you lose some evidence? Something really important?" you suggested, trying to read confirmation from his brown, unusually gentle eyes at that moment. He gently shook his head.

"Now, I honestly don’t know. Okay, this might sound like some soap opera plot, but here goes. Were you supposed to keep an eye on a potential victim and ended up having a passionate affair with them?"

You lowered your voice to a flirtatious whisper as you said the last words.

For a moment, he held your gaze. He met it like an opponent, sending an exciting shiver down your spine. And it wasn’t because of the cold. But then, he submissively lowered his eyes. You let out such a strong burst of laughter that you started to worry if you had accidentally spat on him.

"Spencer Reid, you’re joking with me, right?"

He turned back onto his back again, avoiding looking at your wide-open mouth and amused eyes. You propped yourself up on your elbow, gently nudging his shoulder.

"What kind of... seductress beast are you? Because I don't know how else to call it," you muttered, still shaking your head from side to side. "Wow, I didn’t know this side of you."

"There’s no side like that," he replied defensively, closing his eyes with some embarrassment. "It was... she was an actress who had a stalker..."

"An actress?"

"...and it just happened that way! But it was definitely a mistake. And it wasn’t any... passionate affair, as you called it. I put her in unnecessary danger when we kissed in the pool..."

"In the pool?"

"Oh, why do I even keep talking?" he groaned, pressing one hand to his tightly closed eyes. He suddenly snorted. "Sure, laugh even louder. Gideon and Derek in the next room won't mind if you wake them up."

"Oh, don't change the subject now. You seduced an actress. Was she famous?"

"I didn’t seduce her..."

"So, she seduced you?"

Reid sighed, resigned.

"Well, I’d put it that way," he admitted finally, quietly, with a certain childish indignation, as if he had simply decided to surrender to the onslaught of your questions. He didn’t reveal much, but after a moment, you learned a few important details about the case, and with some... relief, you realized you didn’t recognize the actress’s name. But why relief?

Suddenly, however, the hysterical amusement faded, leaving you with a genuine dilemma. Reid was still lying on his back, avoiding your mocking gaze and comments. Before you could stop yourself, you lightly touched his arm to get his attention. He nodded questioningly.

"I know this might be a very strange and, above all, an extremely personal question, but what does it take to seduce you?" you asked.

Reid froze, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I just realized that I’ve probably never seen you actively filter anyone. Consciously, that is. Because sometimes it happens, and you don’t even notice it," he opened his mouth to protest, but you quickly covered it with your hand. Confused, he looked down at it. "Don’t even try to deny it, everyone would confirm it. But I’m trying to imagine the kind of person you would lose your head for, and I’ve got a few conflicting ideas. So, I’ll repeat the question. What does it take to seduce you? Asking for a friend, of course."

Reid flinched as if alarmed.

"What friend?"

"My God, it’s just a figure of speech."

He sighed, and the way he shook his head showed a certain disbelief.

"You’re surprisingly hyperactive, considering the time. Maybe we should go to bed?"

"No, I asked you a question," you protested. "Does she have to be pretty? Smart? Probably both, right?"

He looked at you with the same expression—simultaneously embarrassed, disbelieving, shocked, amused, offended, and above all, thoroughly confused.

"I feel like this question is going to keep you up tonight. So, for the sake of your own sleep, I’ll answer briefly. And I don’t care if my answer satisfies you or not." Reid paused, and you waved your hand, urging him to continue. He sighed. "She just... has to seem... interesting."

"Was there any more evasive answer?" you snorted, disappointed.

"Did you expect an entire essay?"

 "Well, honestly, yes. Last time you talked to me for over thirty minutes about bioluminescence and what causes it. You were able to go on and on about that, but not this time?"

You knew by now you were just teasing him, playing with his nerves as if it were an instrument you'd been mastering since early childhood, attending lessons three times a week and slowly climbing the ranks of your musical career. 

Your conversations often felt like a game of ping-pong, with each of you exchanging comments, remarks, observations, and verbal jabs at a pace that was downright wild. Time completely vanished for you then, feeling as though you could carry on such a dialogue forever.

 "Goodnight," he finally said, without much firmness in his voice. Well, that was probably more out of practicality than a strong desire to end the chat. It was indeed late. "I hope I don't bump into you too many times during the night. Or you into me."

 "So, you're already tired of talking to me?" you asked, feigning hurt. You even tilted your head dramatically.

For a moment, he hesitated to reply, his brown eyes nervously scanning your face, a barely noticeable smile tugging at his lips.

 "Quite the opposite," he finally responded. You raised your eyebrows, not allowing yourself to feel satisfied with his words in case they turned out to be pure sarcasm. "So…goodnight."

As a result of some sort of scuffle, you found yourselves in a rather chaotic position. Well, you were definitely taking up most of the bed, comfortably sprawled in the center. He lay more on the edge, somewhere between lying on his back and on his side. Looking at him and his slightly flushed cheeks, which were quite an endearing sight, you suddenly realized the meaning of his earlier words. I hope I don't bump into you too many times during the night. So he did intend to sleep with you on this narrow bed, when there was a perfectly empty one, entirely at his disposal, just beside you? An unexpected choice, but… you weren’t complaining. In fact, you were kind of okay with it. With a slightly enigmatic expression, you leaned closer to him, intending to say something softly.

 Reid perked up, as although he had officially ended the conversation, he was still curious about what you were about to say.

 "Goodnight," you said slowly, inhaling the scent of his freshly washed hair. You should have moved away, giving him space to settle more comfortably, but you wouldn't be yourself if you didn't add, “Seductive beast."

“God, nothing in life will ever make me regret more than telling you about this,” he sighed, genuinely concerned about that prospect.

You let out a snort and were about to mumble something else when he, with resignation, turned fully onto his back. Well... at least he tried. He was so close to the edge of the mattress that it simply ended beneath him.

You shot up into a sitting position, startled by the sudden noise and the chaos that filled the room.

“Spencer,” you managed to gasp, jumping off the bed to check on him.

It wasn't an easy task; everything was submerged in darkness. If falling off the bed itself didn't sound like one of the most humiliating accidents a person could have, adding to it the fact that he had hit his head on the wide dresser next to the bed made it worse. And, as a result, the nightlight had been knocked over and shattered...

Fumbling, you reached for the light switch, and when the room was lit again, you moved to him. Kneeling beside Reid, who was slowly propping himself up, you gently held his shoulders.

"Careful, Jesus, you hit your head so hard..."

He squinted and furrowed most of his face, letting out a sharp breath.

 "Does it hurt a lot?" you asked, carefully inspecting his head and looking for any serious injuries, maybe some blood... but you saw nothing

Spencer looked at you with a sort of seriousness, as if the pain had suddenly faded.

"What else is it supposed to do, tickle?"

For a moment, the room fell quieter, but it was impossible to ignore the mutual sense of relief that things hadn’t turned out worse. His words threw you off a bit; at first, you didn’t fully grasp their meaning. Instead, you focused entirely on analyzing his face, his body language, his behavior. You were afraid he might have a concussion.

"I have absolutely no medical training, but..." you paused, casting another worried glance his way. Reid was slowly starting to shake off the shock and disorientation. "But judging by how quickly your sarcasm came back, I’d say you’re going to be fine."

He let out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a groan.

"Doctor of the year, right here…"

Just then, a loud knock echoed on the door. The door to your room

 “Is someone murdering you guys in there or what?” Morgan’s concerned voice called out.

You exchanged glances—both equally confused and, in a way, slightly terrified. Clearing your throat, you spoke up.

“Well, since I’m the reason this whole situation happened, I guess it’s on me to explain to him how it even got to this point,” you sighed. When he didn’t react, you raised your eyebrows. “No objections? No heroic offers to take this off my hands?”

“Not a chance,” he replied curtly, shaking his head before wincing briefly as another wave of pain clearly shot through it.

You told him, worried, to stay down for a little while longer for his own good.

 “And as my mom used to say,” you added, slowly starting to stand, glancing briefly toward the door. Morgan knocked again—or rather, pounded on it hard enough to nearly take it off its hinges.

Taking your time, you rested both hands on Reid’s shoulders in an almost protective gesture. Completely ignoring the surprised look on his face, you brushed your lips against his forehead.

 “A kiss will make it better.”

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @kakamixo @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @aristeia29 @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella

[noira-l]

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You were a prodigy, destined for greatness, until one mistake cost you everything- your powers, your legacy, and your father’s pride. Now, powerless and adrift, you wait for your father's decision on your fate, unsure if you’ll face exile, servitude, or something worse. A shadow of who you once were, you push everyone away, drowning in the weight of your own failure. Then there’s Gojo Satoru. Your rival, your tormentor, and the last person you expect to care about your fall. But instead of mockery, his gaze carries something else - something you can’t bring yourself to believe.

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 — teen!gojo satoru x f!reader

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 — heavy angst

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 — mdni, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, prodigy!reader, reader is from clan, rivals with benefits, mention of sexual intercourse, hate sex, depiction of complicated relationship, loss of technique, hurt, mourning (pain, grief, regret), depression, self-doubt, changing body, depiction of loneliness, reader pushes everyone away, jjk clans are shit, family abuse, long term manipulation, smoking, drowning, failed attempt of self-destruction (gojo saves reader), reader goes no contact, reader becomes maiko/geiko later on.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 — 11 k

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 — this is the longest list of warnings I have ever written, congrats to me (kidding). I don't know if anyone will like it. I know it's dark, very unhealthy and absolutely depressing. It's not good, and I don't recommend anyone to act in the way depicted in this fic. It is possible that I will remove it in the future. If you are struggling with such issues, I would highly encourage you to talk to someone you trust about it. However, I want to thank everyone who chooses to read this.

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

It really wasn't difficult to avoid.

You could've waited literally two seconds.

You could've let the assistant check the area as he should after the mission.

You could've not searched the area yourself.

You could've notified the assistant that you had found a cursed object, in the shrine debris.

You could've waited for the assistant to come up to check with you.

You could've not approached the cursed object.

You could've not picked it up. You could've been smarter.

Maybe if you were - you would still have your powers.

Your technique had been everything they claimed it to be. Rare, devastating, invaluable. It wasn’t just a skill - it was a mark of distinction, the proof of your place in a centuries-old legacy. The elders whispered of its rarity, marveling at the precision and control with which you teach yourself to wielded it.

They called you a prodigy, the one destined to elevate the clan to greater heights.

The weight of those expectations had always been crushing, but you bore it with a silent, unyielding resolve. You had to. You had no choice.

But there was another side to this. You wanted to bore it. You wanted to shush all the gossip, all the rumours that might suggest that you can't do something. Besides you found yourself enjoying this kind of powers

The whispers about your gender - about how being a woman might complicate your ability to lead, to fulfill the role they expected of you - only hardened your resolve.

You would prove them wrong, all of them, you told yourself.

But you also wanted your father's approval.

Your father was the only thing close to you. Your mother died in childbirth or left with a lover, you never knew which version was the truth. As a child, you never thought about it, the truth is, everyone around you only mentioned your father, how you should be his pride, his tribute and how you should do everything to make him feel content about you.

This propaganda worked.

And this mindset became an integral part of you.

His approval wasn’t just your goal - it was your oxygen, your sustenance. His rare moments of pride were your reward, and his disappointment - your greatest fear.

You could hear his voice in your mind, the way it would brighten ever so slightly when you succeeded "Good. This is good. Keep this up." those words had kept you going through grueling hours of training, through sleepless nights spent honing your skills to perfection. The bruises, the pain, the exhaustion - they were nothing compared to the glow of his approval, the fleeting light that told you you were enough, if only for a moment.

But his eyes also dulled with such terrifying speed when you stumbled, even slightly. A poorly executed maneuver, a delay in judgment during a sparring session, a lapse in control, all of it was met with silence, with the cold weight of his disappointment pressing down on you like a vice. It was in those moments that you became acutely aware of your imperfection, of how fragile his pride in you truly was.

This however had shaped you into a perfectionist, a creature of cold calculation.

Training became part of your life, your identity. You lived for the applause of the elders, for the murmured praise of the clan, but above all, for the fleeting flicker of pride in your father’s eyes.

He had once told you, long ago, when you were too young to fully understand his words, that you were his gift "Special, rare." he had said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it since "A gift I received at your birth."

You had clung to those words, replaying them in your mind whenever the pressure became unbearable. They were your anchor, your proof that you mattered, that you were loved - not as a daughter, perhaps, but as something far more valuable, something exceptional.

But in a perspective - you weren't the only exceptional thing in this world.

Even before you understood what rivalry meant, you had been told, over and over, how your birth ranked second in significance.

The second most talked thing.

The first? Him.

You had grown up under the long shadow of a name: Gojo Satoru.

A boy born with unparalleled power, eyes as vivid as the summer sky, whos very existence shaked the foundations of the jujutsu world. While your family whispered of your technique with cautious pride, his family declared him the strongest before he could even speak.

Comparison was inevitable. You were prodigies, both of you, but where your brilliance was honed through discipline, his was uncontainable, raw, and overwhelming. You were rare - he was the one.

You still remembered the first time you saw him. You couldn’t have been more than six, dressed in formal robes too heavy for your small frame, the silk scratchy against soft skin. The clan meeting was dull, filled with stiff adults exchanging words that meant nothing to you. But then, in the corner of the room, you felt a presence - bright, piercing, impossible to ignore.

When you turned, his eyes met yours.

Wide, unblinking, and startlingly blue, they stared at you like they could see through your skin, through your bones, through everything that made you, you. He didn’t say anything, didn’t smile or nod - just stared, like he was trying to decide if you were worth noticing at all.

Even then, something about him annoyed you.

As you grew older, the comparisons became sharper, louder. Clan sparring matches became a regular event, a spectacle for the elders to evaluate their bloodlines. You, Gojo, Kamo, that Zen’in heir, and a handful of others were pitted against one another under the guise of "training." But you all knew the truth. It was a game of dominance, of proving which clan held the strongest future.

Gojo made it a point to be insufferable.

"Chicken fights." he had once sneered, grinning as he sat perched on a rock like a king addressing his subjects. You had just beaten one of the Zen’in cousins, a victory that had left your father smiling faintly in the audience. But Gojo’s voice cut through the cheers "That’s all this is. You flap your wings, you strut around, but it doesn’t matter. None of you will ever beat me."

The others ignored him, too smart - or too scared - to engage. But not you.

"I’d rather be a chicken than a brat with a big mouth." you’d shot back, your voice steady despite the fire burning in your chest.

His grin widened, and for a moment, you thought he might actually take you seriously. But then he laughed - a loud, obnoxious sound that echoed through the sparring grounds "Cute." he said, hopping off his perch and walking past you like you weren’t even worth his time "Let me know when you’re ready to play with the big kids."

Now, years later, the rivalry had followed you into Jujutsu High, where it seemed impossible to escape him. The same classes, the same missions, the same suffocating aura of superiority that surrounded him wherever he went.

He was a little different. Not in the way you’d imagined someone "different" might be - quiet, mysterious, unassuming. No, he was loud, arrogant, and so assured in his strength that it bordered on unbearable.

The fire you’d felt as a child, that relentless desire to outdo him, to prove yourself, had cooled over the years. But it hadn’t gone out. Instead, it had transformed into something sharper, something a little colder - a blade honed not just to cut him down but to carve out your own space in a world that refused to see you as anything more than a shadow cast by his brilliance. It wasn’t just about beating him anymore. It was about standing on equal ground, forcing him - and everyone else - to recognize you as something other than second best.

You tried to take it slow, to ingore him.

Gojo didn’t make it easy.

He had a way of getting under your skin that no one else could. Just a glance from him could set your teeth on edge, that wide, knowing smirk playing on his lips like he was already ten steps ahead of you. He mocked you constantly, his words sharp and teasing, always laced with that infuriating arrogance that only he could pull off.

Every encounter was a contest, every conversation a challenge, every moment spent in his presence a battle for dominance.

You danced around each other endlessly, an intricate, unspoken rhythm that neither of you could break. One moment, he’d set the direction, leading with a cocky ease that seemed unshakable - the next, you’d outpace him, forcing him to catch up, to adjust to your steps.

The dance extended into every aspect of your lives. Missions became opportunities to one-up each other, to prove who was faster, sharper, more capable. Training sessions were wars of endurance, each of you pushing harder, refusing to yield until exhaustion forced a truce. Even on days off, when most people would relax or recover, you found ways to compete - whether it was sparring, aruging or something as mundane as seeing who could stack the most chairs before they toppled over.

His attention was relentless, his focus always sharp and unyielding. He discounted you with every other word, mocking your efforts, analyzing your achievements as if he were the ultimate judge of your worth. His words - arrogant and biting - were no better.

"Trying to catch up to me again? Good luck with that, shortcake."

"Don’t trip over your own shadow while you’re chasing me."

"Nice job today, small fry. Almost makes me feel like you’re worth competing with."

Each message was a spark, igniting the fire that drove you to prove him wrong, to show him - and yourself - that you were more than capable of matching him. To the point of beating him.

Neither of you ever held the upper hand for long - one day his victory, the next yours. The score didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that the fire between you never burned out, keeping you locked in this endless, maddening dance.

And maddening was pace of his hips that were thrusting into you every other day. The old floor, even with a layer of training mat, would creak under his powerful movements.

Both of you decided after some time that your dispute had to be settled by other means, so you challenged each other to a duel where there were no rules and all moves were allowed. It usually ended with the two of you meeting in the old training room after class, to resolve a conflict you were currently having. The winner was the one who first knocked his opponent finally to the ground.

Differently these encounters ended, sometimes he was the unbeatable winner, pounding you into the floor, bending you at every possible angle, whispering sweet nothingess and words of mocking encouragement to your ear, making tears drip down your flushed cheeks. Sometimes it was you who won, pinning him to the floor, bouncing off his hips in a frenzy, one in which you commented on how loud he was, how crying and pathetic he looked - words that were meant to degrade him, were just making his glimmering eyes roll back. Eyebrows raised and stupid handsome face twisted in a sigh so beautful that you would end up with the lost of insults after a while.

He won last week. Your asscheeks painfully pounded into the mat material, as your hands clasped tightly on his shoulders, creating scars that were meant to affect him, but only seemed to make him whine even more. Laughing breathlessly at your attempts to hurt him, as if he wasn't the one leaving rudely visible red marks on your neck that poke through uniform.

He'll probably laugh about winning his final match, too.

Because there will never be any again.

Everyone tried everything to undo the effects of what had happened - to remove the curse. When this proved impossible by the specifications of the object you touched, which could be called a trap, they at least tried to restore the flow of your cursed energy. This, too, proved to be a failure.

You’d told yourself, at first, that it must be temporary. That the connection to your technique would return, that this was just a setback. It had to be. Something so integral to your being couldn’t just vanish - it was part of you, wasn’t it?

That was you, right?

But each attempt proved fruitless. Every meditation session, every exercise, every attempt to summon even the faintest flicker of cursed energy - it all ended the same way: in silence, in emptiness.

The denial fueled your determination, pushing you into training sessions that bordered on self-destruction. You traded your technique for raw physicality, throwing punches at the training dummy until your fists bled, the skin splitting open as you struck again and again. And again. Sweat soaked through your clothes, mingling with tears you refused to acknowledge as they streamed down your face.

You screamed, raw and guttural, into the empty training field, but the sound brought no release, only exhaustion. You never shouted like that, never cried like when you fell on the ground and realised it was all pointless.

One conclusion came from your attempts.

You had been crippled.

"Maybe if I had a son, he wouldn't have made such a foolish mistake." the words clung to you, searing through the phone’s receiver like acid. Your father’s voice, sharp and cold, cut through the fragile thread of composure you had been holding onto. The regret, the disappointment, and - worst of all - the indifference. He didn’t even sound angry, just tired. Tired of you.

Your throat burned.

"Father, please..." but you didn’t know what you were asking for -mercy, understanding, or perhaps the impossible: forgiveness.

"You've squandered everything." his voice was steady, unaffected "Centuries of legacy, your birthright, your technique - gone. Do you understand the magnitude of what you’ve done?"

Do you? You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak. Your thoughts swirled into a vortex of self-loathing, replaying the moment over and over again.

"We'll talk later when I decide what to do with you." and just like that he hung up.

That was it. No comfort. No acknowledgment of the years you’d given, the sacrifices you’d made, or the countless moments you’d bled and bruised yourself into perfection. The line had gone dead with a finality that echoed through your chest like a hammer strike. His voice - so cold, so detached - ingered in your mind, cutting deeper than any curse could.

You set the phone down on the desk, your hand trembling slightly as you withdrew from it, as though it might burn you if you held on any longer. The chair creaked faintly beneath you as you sat motionless, staring at the wall opposite you.

You wanted to apologise to him, to beg his forgiveness for your mistake, for your stupidity, you wanted to cry on his shoulder, to apologise - again - that you had let him down. But he just wasn't interested. He was no longer interested in your perspective.

You, simply didn't interest him.

That room was dim, the shadows thick and suffocating, broken only by the faint glow of a single overhead light. It wasn’t enough to fully illuminate the faces of the elders who stood before you, their disapproval palpable, their voices sharp and cutting as they dissected your situation. Each word they spoke dug into your chest, stripping away what little pride you had left.

You were stripped off the title of a prodigy.

They called you a dissapointment now.

You became an example.

A cautionary tale.

The damage has already been done.

People tried to reach you. Geto, Shoko, Nanami - even Yaga made an effort to draw you out of your spiral. But their words felt hollow, meaningless. What could they possibly say that would fix what had been broken? They didn’t understand. How could they? They still had their power, their purpose, their place in this world. You didn’t.

He was on mission overseas, so maybe the information about your state didn't quite reach him yet. Not that you cared if he made contact.

He would probably just laugh at you anyway.

Of all these people Geto, had tried the hardest, his presence quiet but persistent. He tried to be there for you. But there was no you inside.

He’d sat beside one day, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. His touch, once an unremarkable soft gesture, now felt heavy - too heavy. You realized then just how much strength he had, how much stronger he’d become while you had only weakened. His grip, once equal to yours, now dwarfed it.

"You’re still here." he’d said softly, his voice careful, measured "That matters the most."

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. The weight of his words pressed against your chest, but they couldn’t penetrate the hollow void inside you. Instead, you’d turned away, muttering some excuse to just leave.

You didn’t want his pity. You didn’t want anyone’s.

You didn't believe that anything else mattered to anyone except your gift. Not after everything that happends.

So you let yourself sink in that conviction.

Your own reflection became that a stranger. Each glance in the mirror revealed another part of yourself fading away. Your muscles, once taut and defined from years of rigorous training, softened, weakened. Your face, once bright with determination and pride, dulled, the light in your eyes all but extinguished. Even your posture changed, slouching under the weight of your defeat.

You avoided mirrors after that. It was easier not to look at yourself, not to see the person you’d become.

The thought of him haunted you. He was the only person who had not yet spoken about your situation. You could almost hear the laughter that would spill from his lips when he found out.

He’d won, hadn’t he? He will be happy that you lost.

Not through a sparring match or a test of strength, but through your own stupidity. He wouldn’t even need to lift a finger - your downfall was self-inflicted. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

He’d probably make a joke of it, something biting and sharp, something that would leave you hollowed out even further. The idea of facing him, of hearing his voice, made your stomach twist - but you kinda wanted him to say somthing to you.

Although you were sure what his reaction would be.

By early autumn you became a ghost of the person you’d once been, a shell going through the motions. The world felt distant, muted, as though you were walking through a haze. The wind carried the crisp scent of leaves, the air beacme sharp enough to sting your lungs as you exhaled. Your student status was taken away by higher-ups, they decided that sending you on a mission was pointless. Just like you. The peak of your skill now was ability to see a curse, not to fight one.

You could do whatever you wanted, so you went to all sorts of faraway places.

You’d grown used to the isolation. It was easier not to see anyone, not to hear the pity in their voices or feel their lingering stares. Geto had tried, tried and tried. Staying with you whenever he could, but even his presence, as steady and grounding as it was, felt too heavy. He tried talking to you, but your mind seemed closed to his willingness to help and his affectionate tone. You weren't a person who knew how to accept help from others, no one ever taught you that. Even if you appreciated it, you didn't know how to show it. And the truth was - you couldn’t bear the weight of his concern, couldn’t summon the energy to reassure anyone that you were fine.

Because you weren’t fine. You were no longer yourself.

That was the only thing that had mattered.

You wanted to disappear into the nothingness that seemed to have taken root inside you. You wanted to stop existing in a world where you no longer had a place, where the purpose that had defined you all your life was gone.

But instead, you thought. And thought. Alone, in the dark, your mind was a relentless spiral, turning over every moment, every decision that had brought you to this point.

You never really faced your fears before, you realized.

This and many other thoughts stirred in your head like a swirl, twisting your perception of reality.

You were walking through the school gates, the crisp golden leaves crunching under your boots. The sun hung low in the sky, its light casting long shadows across the pavement.

You really didn’t expect to see him.

He was back.

Snow-white hair catching the sunlight, posture impossibly relaxed, as if the weight of the world didn’t touch him. He walked with that characteristic ease, the kind that could embarrass a hundred men without effort. His phone was pressed to his ear, and you could hear his laughter even from a distance - light, careless, the kind of laugh that had always annoyed you.

For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t notice you. Of course - why would he? You didn’t even have the faintest trace of cursed energy anymore. You were just a random person, a shadow of who you’d once been, just a presence walking aimlessly on a pleasant autumn afternoon.

You kept your hands buried in your pockets, eyes fixed on the path ahead, determined to pass him without incident. Without one stupid comment. Without one look into that judging eyes.

You realized you weren't ready to face him. A whole range of emotions came up in you: anger, anticipation, sadness, wanting, resignation, longing, but most of all - shame.

But then his gaze fell on you.

You could feel it before you even looked up, the weight of his attention, sharp and unmissable. His eyes flicked over you once, casual and dismissive, but then he froze. Head snapped back in your direction, and the expression on his face shifted so quickly it almost startled you. Satisfaction melted into pure, unfiltered shock.

You didn’t stop.

You didn’t have the strength to deal with him, with his taunts, his smirks, his cutting words, his blue eyes. Not now. Not ever. You moved past him without a word, steps steady and deliberate, though your heart pounded in your chest so much.

You will let him enjoy his win in your silence.

"Oi!" his voice cut through the air, sharp, insistent "Stop you - Wait!"

You didn’t turn around. In fact you didn’t even flinch. Instead, you reached into pocket, pulling out the battered pack of cigarettes Shoko had handed you weeks ago. You lit one with a shaky hand, the ember flaring briefly before the smoke curled into the air. You inhaled deeply, the bitter taste grounding you as you kept walking.

Gojo stood frozen, watching you disappear down the path. He tried calling after you couple of times, louder each time. But he didn't run after you. Six Eyes scanned your silhouette with dangerous precision, noticing every small detail that had changed. The slump in your shoulders, the sharpness of your cheekbones, the dullness in your eyes. The lack of a slightest trace of cursed energy.

What the hell happend to you?

He hadn’t seen you in weeks, but the person walking away from him now was unrecognizable.

You weren’t just tired. You weren't yourself.

You came back hours later to pack your belongings.

The weight of tomorrow hung heavy in your chest, suffocating and inescapable. Your father’s decision loomed over you, its implications gnawing at your already fragile sense of self.

You decided to take a walk, one last time over the terrain you knew and loved so well.

You didn’t want to think about what he might have planned for you. You didn’t want to imagine the hollow life that awaited you, stripped of your identity and power. But the thoughts were relentless, swirling in your mind as you walked, each step taking you farther from the dormitory and deeper into the forest.

Would he make you a servant? Marry you off to someone important, someone who could salvage what little value you had left? Would he exile you to the far corners of the clan, where you would live out your days in quiet obscurity?

The possibilities churned in your mind, each one heavier than the last.

For weeks, you’d been coming here, searching for something in that reflection. Searching for the person you used to be, the prodigy who had stood tall and proud, who had been her father’s pride and her clan’s future. But all you found was a ghost, a shadow of what you once were.

The night was quiet, perfect for the last one here, the air heavy with the crisp scent of fallen leaves and damp earth. A pale moon hung in the sky, its light casting silvery ripples over the world, softening the edges of reality.

You crouched down, as you approached the edge of the water. Your hands brushing against the damp grass, and stared into the lake’s surface. For a moment, the sight of your reflection startled you, as it always did now.

You closed your eyes, for a brief moment, the quiet of the forest enveloping you. A faint rustle of leaves, the distant call of nightlife and the soft lapping of water against the shore - it was all so achingly peaceful. And yet, it offered no comfort.

The lake held no answers, no revelations. Just the same distorted reflection, the same fractured image of yourself.

The reflection there was faint, distorted, but still recognizable. You could make out the curve of your jaw, the hollowness of your cheeks, the dim light in your eyes that once burned so brightly. You stared at yourself, unblinking, searching for the person you had been.

But you were gone.

...

What is the point of all this?

The question came unbidden, as it had so many times before. It's not like you're usefull to anyone. Your whole life has been based on being a sorcerer, the next clan head also, but not being just a human. You don't know how to live a normal life - you don't know if you even want to live one.

You thought about the weight of your father’s expectations, the years you had spent chasing his approval. You thought about the countless hours of training, the bruises, the exhaustion, the fleeting moments of pride that had kept you going. And you thought about the emptiness you felt now, the void left behind by the loss of your technique.

It's all been bringing you to one conclusion for some time: you are nothing without your technique.

This is a painful truth that you had to accept some time ago.

You had the feeling that the water was looking at you - offering a hideout.

You moved, taking one hesitant step forward.

It won't be that bad, right? Everything is better than facing the consequences of your own stupidity.

Another step joined the previous one, your feet touching the cold surface. The smell of wet grass and vegetation wafted through the air.

You’d left everything behind on the shore. Your jacket, hoodie, and shoes - they lay in a silent heap, abandoned like everything else in your life. You won't need them anymore.

The water was cold. Icy. It cut through your skin like shards of glass, wrapping around you with an unforgiving grip as you plunged deeper and deeper into the darkness. The shock of it made your muscles tighten, but you didn’t fight it - not at first. You let the weight of the water pull you down, let the emptiness consume you.

Everything was dark, impossibly so, swallowing everything in its depths. You couldn’t see, couldn’t feel anything but the cold pressure against your skin and the burning in your chest as your lungs screamed for air. You let yourself sink further, closing your eyes against the suffocating blackness.

And yet, your mind wouldn’t still.

Thoughts came rushing in, unbidden, like a flood breaking through a dam. Every memory, every failure, every moment of doubt and despair surged to the forefront. The weight of it all pressed down on you, heavier than the water, dragging you deeper into the abyss.

You had thought this might be the solution. The way out. An escape from the suffocating spiral of your existence. But as the air in your lungs ran out and your body began to betray you, survival instinct kicking in, you realized there was no escape. Not from the memories, not from the pain, not from yourself.

Your limbs flailed, your arms slicing through the water as you tried to fight against the primal urge to breathe. Your body betrayed you, forcing you to the surface even as your mind screamed to let go, to give in.

Just a little bit.

But it was too late. The water felt thick, heavy, an impossible barrier keeping you from the surface. Your lungs heaved, desperate for air, but all they found was water. Cold, bitter, unrelenting water that filled your chest and drowned your last desperate gasp for life.

The memories came in flashes, fragments of a life that now seemed so far away. The pride in your father’s eyes the first time you mastered your technique. The sound ofm Geto’s gentle laugh on a quiet afternoon. Shoko’s quiet. The way Gojo’s voice had always irritated you, his smirk a constant thorn in your side.

They all felt so distant now, like they belonged to someone else. Someone who wasn’t a failure. Someone who still mattered.

And then there was the weight of the other memories - the shame, the disappointment, the voices of the elders as they condemned you. The coldness in your father’s tone when he told you he’d decide what to do with you. The emptiness that had consumed you in the weeks since.

You felt your body shutting down, your vision darkening as the water enveloped you. Your limbs grew heavy, your mind hazy. The struggle became a distant thing, like a flickering light fading out.

And yet, in those final moments, as the water pulled you under completely, one thought rose above all the others, sharp and unrelenting:

You are a failure.

Gasp.

The world returned to you in gasps and violent coughs, water pouring from your lungs as your chest heaved painfully. Your body felt like it had been ripped apart, the freezing cold of the lake still clinging to your skin, but the sharp sensation of something - someone - holding you brought clarity in a rush.

You blinked against the blurriness in your vision, barely able to make out the figure above you. His white hair was plastered to his forehead, the sharp strands dulled and dripping, and his electric blue eyes were wide, filled with a mix of fury, fear, and something raw. His hands trembled as they held you, but his grip was firm, refusing to let go.

Him.

You coughed again, turning your head as water spilled out of your mouth, your chest burning with each labored breath. Reality slammed into you like a punch: you were on the shore, cold earth pressing against your back, and he was the reason you were still here.

"No." you croaked, the word scraping against your throat like sandpaper. Panic surged through you, body reacting before mind could catch up. You twisted violently, shoving against him with what little strength you had left, trying to escape the strong grasp. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be saved.

He didn’t let go.

"Stop." he growled, his voice low and strained. It wasn’t the teasing, mocking tone you were used to. This was different. Commanding, almost desperate.

"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice cracking as you thrashed against him, the fight in you born not of strength but of pure, unrelenting despair "Let me go, Gojo!"

"No." his grip tightened, his hands locking around your wrists as you tried to claw at him. You jerked and struggled, but it was no use. He was stronger, and even without your powers, you were nothing compared to him. The realization hit you like a dagger to the chest, sharp and agonizing. You couldn’t even free yourself. You couldn’t do anything.

"Stop it" he snapped, voice cutting through the chaos as he pinned your wrists to the ground, forcing you still. His weight loomed over you, his breath ragged and uneven as he glared down at you, his eyes burning with an intensity you couldn’t meet.

You froze, your body trembling beneath him, the fight draining out of you as the cold seeped deeper into your bones. The only sounds were the quiet lapping of the lake’s waves and the harsh breaths between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. His chest rose and fell rapidly, droplets of water sliding down his face, hair wet. His grip on your wrists loosened slightly, though he didn’t let go.

"What are you doing? What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded, his voice rough and low, each word laced with something you couldn’t quite place. Anger? Fear? Pain?

You turned your head away, refusing to meet his gaze "You shouldn’t have stopped me."

His grip tightened again, his fingers trembling as they pressed against your skin "Stop you -" he cut himself off, his jaw clenching tightly as he took a shuddering breath "You’re such an idiot."

You wanted to scream at him, to shove him away, to make him understand that there was nothing left of you worth saving. To let you go and withered. But the words caught in your throat, tangled with the grief, anger and despair that had been building inside you for so long.

"What are you doing here? You've been following me?" your voice sharp despite the hoarseness from the water you’d just coughed up. You glared at him, still pinned beneath his weight, wrists trapped in his hands.

Gojo’s expression flickered between irritation and something you couldn’t quite place - concern? No, that wasn’t possible. He raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with his usual brand of mockery "No. Better -what were you doing here?"

You turned your face away, refusing to answer. The moonlight glinted off the water, its calm surface a contrast to the chaos swirling inside you. You could feel his eyes boring into you, Six Eyes missing nothing.

It didn’t take long for him to piece it together.

His grip on your wrists tightened, just slightly "You should have known better." he said, his tone shifting, lower now, more serious "With all that negative energy bottled up, you could’ve attracted a curse."

You snorted bitterly, the sound harsh and raw "As if I’m not already a curse."

His lips turned into a thin line, glimmering eyes narrowing as he leaned closer "Don’t say stupid things." what you said wasn't stupid, he was stupid for coming here and saving you.

"You are stupid for saving me." the words burst out of you, cracking, unrestrained.

The admission hung in the air, raw and cutting, and you hated how much it revealed. You hated how much he could see now. You felt as if he had caught you on something. Not only at this desperate attempt to avoid your fate, but also at being vulnerable. His face was so close now that you could see every drop of water clinging to his white long lashes, you could also feel the intensity radiating from him like a physical force.

"I told you not to say stupid stuff." he said, his voice low and biting, each word hitting like a hammer "You’re dumb enough as it is."

You wanted him to leave you alone.

You growled in frustration, your movements wild and erratic as you struggled against his grip, you tried to kick him, but to no avail "Let go of me, you asshole!"

"No." his response was immediate, tone resolute.

Can he listen to you for once?

"Fuck you!" you hissed.

"You already did!" he barked, his voice cracking through the tension like lightning.

You froze, the retort you’d been about to throw back dying on your tongue. That was an answer you didn't expected. It made you pause. Well...

Gojo sighed, a sound of exasperation tinged with something softer, something almost like… care "You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?" he muttered "But I’d rather deal with that than lose you."

What?

No, you must have overheard, he would never say such a thing to you.

You would almost believe those softly sparkling eyes, that looked at you in a way that it felt anxious. Well, almost, because you knew exactly who was saying those words to you. You scolded yourself for this in your head.

"Why the hell are you here?" you demanded an answer on dodged question, voice shaking with both anger and something dangerously close to despair "Did you save me because you were afraid you’d lose your favorite object of derision? To mock me? To laugh at how pathetic I’ve become?"

His eyes widened briefly, the accusation catching him off guard, before narrowing again in frustration "Do you seriously think I’d waste my time saving your sorry ass just to mock you?" he shots back "God, you’re so full of yourself sometimes."

"Then why?" you spat "Why did you saved me?"

He didn’t answer, his gaze shifting to the side, avoiding yours entirely. You could see the tension in his jaw. But he still said nothing. As the answer was too much for him to bear. He was about to speak, but he noticed the way you shivered violently, the cold catching you again. The soaked fabric of your clothes still clung to you, and the sharp autumn air made it impossible to stop trembling. Gojo changed his mind.

"I’ll let you go now." his voice lower, less biting "Get dressed - but no stupid actions."

His grip on you eased, and he moved back just enough to give you space, though not far enough to let you out of his reach. He stayed seated on the damp ground, watching your every move with an intensity that made your skin crawl. He didn’t trust you. Not yet.

You listened, you didn't have a choice now.

You crawled toward the pile of clothes, hands shaking so badly that it was difficult to grab anything properly. You stripped off your soaked shirt and pulled on your hoodie in a hurry, not caring whether he saw or not. You were too cold to care about modesty, too angry to care about anything else.

He also got dressed, buttoning up his sweats and putting on his jacket. The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, until his voice broke through.

"Why do you act like a moron?" his words were sharp, almost accusing, but there was something beneath them - a tremor of genuine frustration. Not a trace of his previous gentleness.

You didn’t answer, keeping your focus on zipping up your jacket, your movements jerky and uneven.

He grabbed your arm suddenly, firm but not painful "Oi, answer me!" his voice rose, the intensity of it cutting through the cold air.

You snapped your head up, your eyes blazing as you glared at him "The hell do you want?"

All you wanted now was to escape to a warm room and cry.

His grip on your arm tightened for a moment before loosening slightly, but still there, his expression flickering from serious to worried to confused "Why... why did you want- " he struggled for the words, frowning "Why did you want to end it all? It’s stupid, this logic is idiotic even for you."

You growled.

"What’s dumb is that you don’t understand it." you shot back, your voice sharp, almost venomous. The anger bubbling inside you was the only thing keeping the cold at bay. You wanted to get up, but his grip kept you down.

"The stupid thing is what you’re doing." he countered, his voice rising again "Do you think your death will change anything?"

That was enough for you.

"Great!" you shouted, pulling your arm free of his grip and stepping back, your chest heaving as emotions boiled over "If I’m so fucking worthless, then let me die, for fuck’s sake!"

Shock.

Pure, undeniable shock.

Those vivid blue eyes of his, so infuriatingly piercing, widened. Eyebrows raised, lips parted slightly, as if he were about to speak, but no words came out. It's as if he doesn't believe you just said that. As if he just realised the seriousness of the situation. You saw his chest start to rise faster, not sure if from the cold…. or from panic.

"I don’t want you to -" he started, his voice breaking slightly, even softer than before.

But you crossed your limits.

"You won, okay!?" you cut him off, voice sharp, loud and trembling. The words spilled out of you like a flood, raw, unrestrained "You can rub my face in your victory now! I don’t care anymore! Torment me, mock me, laugh at me - now’s your time!"

His eyes narrowed, confusion clear as his brow furrowed "What?"

"Do it! Now’s the time where you can laugh all you want, insult me all you want - because now, at least, you have a reason!"

"I- " he tried to speak, but you wouldn’t let him.

"Tell me what a failure I am!" you suddenly cried "Tell me how I mean nothing, how all my efforts have gone to waste, how I’m worthless! Because now, at least, I’ll admit you’re right!"

"Stop-" he started, but his words fell flat against the force of your pain.

"Tell me how all your life you knew you were better!" you shouted, hands shaking as you gripped the sleeves of your jakcet "Tell me I’m an idiot, that I’ve always been dumb! Laugh in my face, mock me, just finish me! Say all the things you’ve been thinking, all the things you’ve wanted to say - just say it!"

Your voice broke completely, the words tumbling into a sob "You can finish me..." you choked "Come on. Just… just do it!"

This was to much, you felt so so much.

He was so disoriented. You could see this by his reaction.

"Because I'd believe you'd laugh than suddenly care what happens to me." you chocked.

Silence.

Tears blurred your vision. You were done pretending to have any pride left. You've had enough of everything. You didn't understand his reaction, his sudden tenderness confused you, everything was so wrong. You just wanted to get back to normal, when you - and everything had it's place.

But no, suddenly the world has turned - you don't have your technique, your father will probably disown you, and your rival and bully is suddenly trying to be nice. You don't want to be here anymore. You don't know how to find yourself in this world and you don't know how to talk about it.

It's humiliating to cry in front of him, you know it, but you don't care. You let it all out, just like the water from before.

He just stared at you, eyes wide, jaw tight. You could barely see through the fact that you sobbing next to him, hiding your face and bringing your legs to your chest.

"No." he whispered.

You blinked at him, raising your head, confused "What?"

"No." he repeated, louder this time, his voice firm but trembling "I’m not going to mock you."

You let out a loud bitter laugh, shaking your head "Of course not. Because you don’t even have to, do you? I’ve already done it for you."

"That’s not-" he cut himself off, shortening the distance between you "You’re wrong."

"About what?" your voice breaking again "About being a failure? About being nothing? Tell me what part of that is wrong?"

"All of it." he confirmed, voice steady now, glowing eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart clenched "Every single word. You’re not nothing. You’re not a failure. And I swear to God, if you say that again, I’m going to-"

"To what?" you challenged "Save me again? Drag me out of the lake and lecture me about how I should see the bright side of losing everything? Spare me the pity, Gojo. I don’t need it."

"It’s not pity!" his voice ringing loud, showing that emotions were also building up inside him. Unexpectedly, two large hands moved to cup your face, forcing you to look at him, to stare at two glowing blue dots "I’m not here because I pity you. I’m here because-" he faltered, voice catching as his breath hitched, his thumbs brushing against your cold, damp skin "Because I care."

The silence that followed was deafening. You froze, your face dropping as the weight of confession hit you like a tidal wave. He wonders if you know how much it cost him to tell you this directly. You, you wonder if what he says is a joke.

He... what?

His hands stayed on your face, steady despite the way they trembled slightly "I wanted to talk to you." the voice that came out of him was so quiet, so full of affection, that it was almost nothing like his "I started looking for you as soon as I got back from the mission. I wanted to... I don’t know, do something. Anything."

You burst out laughing bitterly, the sound sharp and raw in the stillness. It felt absurd, impossible. Gojo Satoru, your rival, the person you’d been compared to all your entire life, the one who mocked you, humiliated you endlessly, competed with you relentlessly - suddenly was caring about you?

You don’t believe him - because how could you?

For so many years, he had been the same infuriating presence in your life, treating you with an air of superiority and, at times, outright disdain. His words had cut shar, leaving wounds you’d carried silently for years.

There wasn’t a single thing he hadn’t laughed at. Your hair, he’d compared it to the end of a broomstick. Your smile? He’d once called it a donkey’s grin - or whatever the Japanese equivalent it was, delivered with his trademark smirk that made you want to slap it off his face. Your taste in music? "Cheesy pop thrash" And your clothes? Oh, that was his favorite target "Are you dressing ironically?" he’d asked once, tilting his head with mock curiosity "Or is this a social experiment I missed?" It didn’t stop there. He even mocked the way you walked once, calling it "Too stiff, like you’re auditioning for a role as a wooden puppet"., the way you ate "You attack food like it owes you money." and even the way you carried your books "Why are you holding them like that?" he’d said, mimicking your grip dramatically "You're so weak that you can't hold them properly?"

So yeah, it was laughable.

He may have saved you and you may want to believe in what he says, but you are just not able to.

Can you really blame yourself?

Well, kinda, because you were the one making out with him every other day. You might have believed that he liked your attention, that he might have wanted you - but you wouldn't believe that he wanted to care about you.

You reached up and pulled his hands off your face, your cold fingers brushing against his quite warm ones "Don't give me that. What could you supposedly do?" you asked, voice dripping with disbelief and mockery. The cold seeping back into your body now that his touch was gone

"Anything." he said, his words still tumbling out, almost frantic "Talk, sit with you, I don’t know - something. I- " he stopped, his own frustration bleeding into his voice "I don’t know." his eyes were so pleading.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to stop the tremors as you looked away "Don't bother." voice low, void of fight "Doesn't matter now. My father is picking me up tomorrow."

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

"I have heard too many versions, all from different people, of what my father supposedly planned that - that I don't know..." you paused, the lump in your throat growing unbearable as you forced yourself to say these words.

You wanted to say that you were afraid, that you didn't know what to do, that you felt you had let everyone down, that nothing made sense to you now.

That it was too much.

That you didn't allowed yourself any form of comfort.

"I know one thing, though." you hesitated, the weight of your next words heavy, but you looked up, meeting his gaze with trembling resolve "I’d rather die now, than live my life as a clan failure."

He growled, frustrated, as if nothing is working on his favour. As if he was breaking.

"Who cares what the clan thinks? Who cares about anything they say?" Gojo’s voice rising, desperate and insistent, his words coming faster now, blabbering "They’re a bunch of old fools who don’t know what they’re talking about! You are more than their expectations. You are more than your technique. You are - "

Maybe he wanted to comfort you that way or maybe he wanted you to believe his tale of him 'caring about you'.

But you had already made up your mind.

Gojo knew that you might not believe him in what he was saying now, he knew, that you would be angry with him for all that he has done- you were right - you should be. What he didn't predict, however, was that you would know him well enough to know this one hidden truth about him.

What you say now will leave a mark on him for years. You frowned, voice totaly sure of the words you're saying.

"Don’t preach to me about things you don’t even believe yourself."

You hadn’t spoken since that night by the lake.

Not when you were picked up, your father’s silence mirroring your own as you sat stiffly beside him, staring out the car's window. Not when he informed you of your new path with the cold efficiency of a man making a business transaction.

Your age wasn't very favourable for this, admittedly - you should have started your training as a maiko a long time ago, wanting to become a geiko. However, your father, using his connections, found a place that will accept you for training. He found an okiya in Kanazawa that from now on - will be your temporary home.

You didn’t fight him. You didn’t speak at all. You have done enough.

The years that followed were grueling in their own way, though nothing compared to what you’d endured before.

Training as a maiko demanded a different kind of perfection, a complete transformation of body and mind. The disciplined, precise movements of martial arts you had once mastered - were now replaced by the elegant, deliberate grace of traditional dance. Every step, every turn, every motion had to flow with effortless beauty, concealing the pain and time it took to perfect them.

You hated every second of it.

Your figure changed over time, slimming down in ways you hadn’t anticipated and curving in a few other places. You "got smaller", your once powerful frame softening into something more delicate, more feminine. Your reflection in the mirror became even stranger - a porcelain doll painted and adorned to please others. Gone were the rugged hands that once wielded cursed tools, now they held fans, makeup brushes, creating beauty where you once brought destruction.

The contrast was unbearable.

You missed the fight, the passion, the adrenaline, the raw exhilaration of your old life. Sometimes, as you trained with the fan, your body betrayed your mind, instinctively slipping into the stances meant for a sword. For your lost technique.

Every day felt like a reminder, a performance, not just for others but for yourself, as if pretending long enough might make you forget what you had lost.

But it didn't.

You never completely left your old self behind; the memory of that person remained vivid, etched into your mind. Recalling the past -missions, getaways, trainings, fleeting moments of triumph and connection - became a daily ritual. Nostalgia and grief intertwined, two of many companions that you had learned to live with, their weight both comforting and unbearable.

Despite it all, he kept reaching out to you.

Gojo’s messages came daily at first, long, rambling texts filled with details of his day - missions, strange encounters, little jokes he’d picked up along the way. He sent pictures of things he thought might make you laugh: a badly drawn doodle of you scowling, a ridiculous meme, a cursed object that looked suspiciously like a poorly designed toy. Each message carried a tone of casual insistence, as though he were trying to prove his point - that he cared. Or perhaps he was trying to reshape your relationship, to turn you from the rival he mocked constantly into something else, maybe - a friend.

Eventually, the messages slowed. Whether it was his own frustration, the demands of his life, or something else entirely, you didn’t know. You didn’t care to know. Cutting yourself off from him, from everyone, was the only way you knew how to endure.

At some point, you stopped reading them altogether. The weight of shame pressed down on your chest, suffocating any inclination to respond. You couldn’t face him - or anyone from your past. The person they knew was gone, and what remained of you was too broken, too hollow, to withstand their judgment or pity.

Your thoughts spiraled endlessly, dragging you deeper into a pit of self-doubt. You convinced yourself that no one could possibly care for who you were now - powerless, dull, and unremarkable. What was left of you wasn’t worth saving, and surely, he had to see that too. Eventually, you were certain, he would stop trying. And that thought, as much as it pained you, felt like the only mercy left.

Sometimes, you’d catch yourself hovering over his messages, tempted to open them. The thought of catching a glimpse of the snippets of his life - once so intertwined with yours - felt like a small, guilty comfort.

But no, you didn't do it.

Years just passed, and the day of your Kurokami, the ceremonial debut marking your transition to full-fledged geiko, arrived. Your father had spared no effort, inviting everyone of importance - every known clan in the jujutsu world, their representatives gathered on the sprawling estate for a grand celebration steeped in tradition and political maneuvering.

It wasn’t about you. It was never about you.

This was a spectacle, a carefully orchestrated display of your father’s influence and connections. Each guest, each detail, was part of a greater plan to cement alliances and further his ambitions. You were just another piece of that plan, an accessory to his power.

The highlight of the evening was the final dance of a maiko, the moment of transition - a symbol of beauty and accomplishment in its purest form. But it wasn’t your dance. It wasn’t you, his daughter, he didn't even introduce you.

No, you were just a dancer now.

You entered the stage in silence, your heart slowing as the soft glow of the spotlight bathed you in its warmth. The muted chatter of the crowd faded into an expectant hush, the weight of hundreds of gazes pressing down on you. The air felt thick, heavy with the unspoken demands of the evening. The elaborate kimono you wore seemed to amplify that weight, its intricate embroidery shimmering under the light. Each layer of fabric, from the trailing hikizuri hem to the opulent obi tied with meticulous care, felt like a chain binding you to the role you were expected to fulfill.

The role that you didn't like.

The adornments on your hair - a delicate array of golden combs and jade pins - added to the strain, each piece glinting like a reminder of the perfection demanded of you. Even the subtle fragrance of incense clinging to your garments seemed to emphasize your place in this performance: a symbol, a display, but never a person.

Your movements, however, betrayed none of your inner turmoil. You moved with the fluidity that had been drilled into you for years, every step and turn perfectly calculated. The soft clack of your lacquered sandals against the polished wood echoed through the room, a rhythm as precise as the dance itself. Each motion was a testament to your training, your arms flowing gracefully as though carried by the air.

And then you saw him.

He’d changed. A lot. The years had shaped him into someone sharper, more refined, though the essence of him - remained unmistakable. His snow-white hair was still its signature mess, but it seemed more intentional now, as though he’d taken the time to style it. The glasses he wore were different, darker and sleeker, framing his face in a way that gave him an air of maturity you weren’t prepared for. Somehow, impossibly, he seemed even taller.

Even more handsome.

You couldn’t remember every detail of his face - time had eroded those memories - but some things stayed vivid. You remembered his hands cupping your face that night by the lake, trembling and warm despite the chill. You remembered the look in his eyes, desperate, as if trying to hold onto something slipping through his grasp. Those moments had etched themselves into your mind in ways you hadn’t dared to revisit.

Is it bad that you missed seeing him?

At first, his expression was unreadable, his lips slightly parted as though he’d been caught mid-thought. His usual cocky smirk, the one you had come to know and despise - was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a stunned stillness to him, an uncharacteristic vulnerability that made your chest tighten. Those piercing blue eyes, always so vivid, widened as they traced your figure.

You could see the faint flicker of recognition in them, the way his gaze darted across you as if trying to reconcile the person before him with the one he had known.

You couldn’t glance at him as much as you wanted to, though the urge tugged at you with every turn, every delicate gesture. The temptation was a steady hum beneath your practiced composure, but you ignored it.

Whatever he felt, whatever you felt, didn’t matter. Not here. Not now.

It was the longest performance you've ever done.

When your it ended, the room erupted into applause, a symphony of polite enthusiasm filling the grand space. Guests turned to your father, their compliments flowing freely, every word dripping with veiled flattery.

"What a remarkable performance, truly exquisite." one elder said, nodding with approval. He said this loud enough that you could hear him.

"Master, your planning is unmatched." said another, their tone measured and calculated "A brilliant highlight for the evening."

But not him.

He didn’t join the chorus of praise. He didn’t clap. He didn’t say a word. He just sat there, silent, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that felt like it might swallow you whole. The weight of his gaze burned hotter than any ovation, lingering on you as though he were trying to reach across the distance, trying to say something without words. Maybe something like - look at me again.

You didn’t dare to do this again, too afraid to face him, to face the reality of all you’d ignored: the messages you’d left unread, his attempts to connect with you, his clumsy, awkward texts filled with jokes and small glimpses of his life. You couldn’t bear the thought of the weight in his gaze reflecting those unanswered words, those years of silence between you.

Instead, you kept your head high, your back straight, your movements precise as you exited the stage. You didn’t need to see his face to feel his disappointment - or his persistence. It lingered in the air, following you even as you stepped out of the light.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Maybe one with bunny!hyrbid!reader and Natasha “adopts” her and just fucks the shit out of her with her strap (or her real cock if you prefer to write that)

Run Rabbit Run

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!bunny!hybrid!reader x owner!Nat

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Natasha can’t help but grant her bunny all her little wishes

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, dom!Nat, sub!reader, age gap (legal), ownership, size kink, strap on, artificial cum, slight breeding kink, pillow humping, slight somno, masturbation, crying during it,

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

What to do with all the money you make as an Avenger? That was a question Natasha had ask herself more times than she could count. Sure currently was her monthly pay check and all the money she made from interviews and social media was rotting away in her bank account, because she was never a fan of making herself gifts nor did she have time for it. But now with Easter just around the corner the Russian decided to not only do something against her overload on money but also against her loneliness.

She wanted a hybrid, not just some brainless pet but something that could actually understand her. The concept of owing a hybrid wasn't new of course it had been around for years, back in the days they actually hunted them from nature but nowadays there was no need after they got a hang of how to domesticate such a creature.

Natasha stepped foot in one of the only places in the whole of New York who sold these rare creatures- Tony had recommended it to her after once more bragging about his large collection. The over friendly employee showed her the different enclosures all while the employee tried to keep it together- after all you didn't see an Avenger daily not even when working for a prestigious company like she did.

Natasha first visited the cat hybrids, cute but too stubborn, then the dogs, too dependent, foxes were too clever for her taste though especially the polar foxes caught her eyes. Bears and any other large animals would be too much work and needed too much space. The right pick was right on her nose she wanted to get herself a bunny.

Standing in front of the enclosure which held you and a few of your companions Natasha and the employee stood, her gaze never leaving your body. You didn't alter much from a normal human, except for the fluffy bunny ears, little tail and over all smaller build you looked like any other girl. You were going to cost her a hefty amount of hard earned money but for your rare breed, Natasha couldn't care less about that in the moment. The way you stat there so carelessly reading some book which laid in her lap, made you different in her eyes more intelligent maybe? She wanted connection and not some braindead doll after all.

"The one in the pink collar… is she still to have?" Natasha asked the employee you gave her a quick nod. "Yes, she hasn't been here for long though the ones like her normally get adopted quite quickly." Nat only hummed in approval she couldn't wait to have you in her home. "I'll have her in a private kennel"

Meeting a potential owner made you nervous of course you had been trained to and prepared on how to act in such a situation, how to appeal to any potential owner - though you secretly hoped for a female buyer. You tried your best to hide your shy nature from the older woman who awaited you but Natasha found it charming how your, compared to your body, large floppy bunny ears hang low but twitched up when she spoke to you in a gentle manner.

Natasha approached the situation with a calm demeanour- she knew about the shy nature of a bunny like you. As soon as you were comfortable enough to approach her she started to pet over your smaller head with careful hands- and you loved it. By the end of your get to know each other you sat on the redhead's lap clinging on to her. But you weren't parted for long Natasha signed all the paperwork the same day and at the start of the next week you were able to move in with her.

She had given you a nice room, with many books, TV and games to entrain yourself with while she would be working. You came with the clothes from the centre, a basic white bluse, white skirt everything in white , like any other hybrid except for your coloured coded collar which adored your neck so the employees had an easier time keeping hybrids a part. Natasha started to take great joy in precisely choosing each outfit for you. Price didn't matter to Natasha, if she found something to be cute she bought it for you and Nat was known for expensive taste. Sooner or later your closet was fuller than hers, filled to the brim with shorts, blouses, floral summer dresses anything which had a playful feel to it.

Natasha was a busy woman though, often being away for days at a time, she normally made up with expensive gifts and extensive cuddling for her little bunny girl. But that hardly was enough to satisfy your need to be close to the older woman, not to mention that you were worried sick about your owner once you had found out that she wasn't a simple business woman but an avenger.

Natasha came home at around 3 AM after a long mission in Europe the jet lag and sleep deprive was killing her, and since she thought you'd already be asleep at such a late hour- and way past your agreed on bed time, she'd just go to sleep already. As soon as she had stripped to her underwear and her face had it the pillows she was dead asleep, little did she know that you weren't.

Next door you were awake, not only that but you were desperate. This had never happened before yet you immediately knew what it was. You had your first heat, and nothing helped, no toy's from the centre, no playing with yourself, no nothing. You had a pillow under your hips probed up at the seams you humped the pillow like your life depended on it.

You mewled as your already sensitive cunt graced over the edge of the pillow. You were close to cuming but you couldn't bring yourself over the edge. That's when you heard Natasha rummaging through the house you're floppy bunny ears twitching up to detect the source of the noise. You waited patiently in your room trying to find some sleep, maybe Natasha could help you out in the morning. But you could feels your juices sticking to the inside of your thighs.

With small steps you made it into Natasha's bed room tears of frustration already building in your eyes threatening to spill over your blushing cheeks. Carefully you climbed into her bed to find her in a deep slumber laying on her back. You sat down on her on her thigh your pussy making contact with her soft skin.

Slowly you started to rhythmically move it against the limp muscles of her thigh small whimpers falling from your throat in between the sobs of frustration paired with the cries of her name and the tears rolling down your cheek it made a whole picture.

Natasha peaceful face scrunched up in confusion of the sensation when she slowly woke from her slumber she was utterly distraught. Her sweet little bunny humping her thigh like a bitch in heat. With careful hands she stopped your hips and you immediately broke out into a new round of sobs and cries.

"Sheesh" she hushed you petting over over your low hanging ears "You're just in heat bunny, it'll be over soon" She assured you when you pressed your face into her neck. "I want it over now!" You cried out "what about the advice the centre gave you?" She tried but feeling you so desperate and need had an affect on her too.

"Doesn't work" You huffed out "I want you to play with me" Nat was startled by the request, was it morally right for her to sleep with you? It was the main point of criticism surrounding owing a hybrid, but what if not the owner but the hybrid wanted it. "Please" you whined and the assassin's strong will broke right there. "Wait here bunny I'll go get something" You nodded and released Natasha from your grace watching her go.

She came back with a noticeable bulge in her sleep shorts, which upon seeing made your thighs clench together. "It's not going to hurt bunny" She assured and got behind you pulling her shorts down to reveal her, to your body size massive, strap on. She pressed the fat tip against your entrance and your hooded eyes flew open in surprise at the shear size of the toy.

"Natty, it's to big" You mewled out your cotton tail twitching "It's not gonna fit" Natasha scoffed shaking her head as if you had just made an outrageous statement. "I'm gonna make it fit bunny" She pushed forward and your bunny hears flew up in surprise of the stretch. You hands dug into the soft pillow underneath your head as you whimpered in a mic of pain and pleasure.

"Natasha!" You cried as she bottomed you out the stretch being much greater than you could've accomplished with your little fingers. "I'm gonna move now bunny" You nodded and felt her starting with a comfortable rhythm which made the pain turn into pleasure.

By your sweet moans she could tell how much you liked it and fastened her pace to finally give you what you wanted. With deep thrusts she stroked your G spot making you see stars as she too enjoyed the feeling of the strap running against her clit. You mewled out some words she couldn’t make out but took at as a sign of approval for her to keep going.

With both of her hands on your hips she forcefully slammed into your tight heat making sure to not actually hurt you. You arched your back one hand sneaking to your neglected bundle of nerves rubbing it in tight circles. “Fuck are you close?” Natasha asked there was a certain tiredness in her voice still. She clenched down harder on the silicone and mewled out “Yes, please”

“Fuck cum with me” with a few more fast thrusts you came first you’re juicing coating the lower stomach of the black widow. She had a surprise for you when you noticed a thick liquid gushing from the strap into your womb as she came. After having cum herself she pulled out to watch in an awe how the white cum was dripping from your stretched out hole.

After having cleaned you up Natasha could finally rest but not without you resigning on her chest of course. Call it what you wanted for Natasha those feelings of affection were real and of no ill intent she just did whatever you wanted to ensure happiness. With that thought and still cum dripping from your hole both you and Natasha fell asleep.

:)

[mariana-oconnor]

Types of AO3 Summary

Option 1 - The Excerpt:

The quickest, the easiest! Find a section of your fic that contains the main premise of said fic and also showcases your writing. Copy paste that into the summary box. BOOM! Done.

Best used for any fic, unless it's so short the excerpt would be the whole fic.

Option 2 - The No Frills:

Just a description of the fic. No need for drama. No need to complicate matters. Keep it simple, keep it safe.

Example: "A short character exploration of Blorbo's thoughts after Daisy leaves."

Best used for short fics, poems and fics where the style/format is more important than the plot. Or fics that tie directly into a scene/episode from canon or another fanfic.

Option 3 - The Hook:

Draw the reader's interest by giving them a set up with no conclusion. Introduce the main character(s), introduce the status quo, describe an inciting incident, leave a question in the reader's mind.

Example: "Blorbo is a barista at a coffee shop, struggling to pay their bills, but after handsome rockstar Obrolb walks into their coffee shop they find that they have to decide whether a chance at love is worth the cost of fame."

Best used for mid to long fic where there's a strong premise and follow through. Especially good for AUs. Can be expanded for more complex plots or used multiple times in one summary for multiple characters or subplots.

Option 4 - The Sitcom One-Liner:

"The one in which [over simplified description of one of the main plotlines]" This is essentially 'boil your plot down to the very simplest statement you can, oversimplify if possible. The more bizarre or unhelpful the better.

Example: "The one in which Blorbo learns to like cake".

Best used for fics with at least a little humour in them.

Option 5 - The Rule of Three:

Three is a magic number. Find three key moments in your fic and just list them. That's it. Often ends with 'not necessarily in that order' if used for comic effect. If it's an AU, establish that quickly (i.e. 'Star NHL player Blorbo…').

Example: "Blorbo makes a friend, falls in love, and almost burns to death, not necessarily in that order."

Best used for anything, really. Three is a magic number. The human brain loves things that come in threes.

Option 6 - The Trope Lure:

Why bother describing the plot? We all know AO3 readers are here for the tropes. Similar to The Sitcom One-Liner just using tropes instead of plot. Often followed by the phrase 'that nobody asked for'.

Example: "The Space western / A/B/O / Mail Order Bride fic that nobody asked for."

Often tacked on to the end of The Hook or The Excerpt as a tl;dr.

Best used for fic that plays its tropes straight with no shame or second guessing.

Option 7 - The Pre-emptive Strike:

(Not recommended) You just wrote this fic, the self doubt is consuming you. You feel the need to apologise profusely for your existence for no apparently reason. You feel cringe, you think the fic is cringe, you want everyone to know that you think the fic is cringe in case they don't like it and judge you for it.

Example: "So I fell in love with this pairing and had to write this. It's weird and terrible. Lol! I suck at summaries! Sorry!"

Best used for no fics ever. I cannot stress this enough.

(Seriously, I am begging you, don't do this. If you're planning to use this option, rethink it and do one of the others. I guarantee you more people will want to read your fic.)

Sometimes added on to any other summary as a strange disclaimer. (srsly. don't.)

Option 8 - The Unapology:

Embrace the mayhem, embrace the deep dark depths of your soul. The opposite of The Pre-emptive Strike. A combination of The No Frills and The Trope Lure that truly gives no fucks.

You have committed crimes and you are proud of them. You know what your USP is and you're going to make sure your target market finds you. Look upon my works, ye readers, and despair!

Example: "There aren't enough tentacle fics in this pairing, so I had to write one myself!"

Best used for fics with controversial/polarising tropes with all relevant details already clearly stated in the tags.

Option 9 - The Interrogation:

What if you wrote a summary entirely in questions? What if your readers had to read the fic to discover the answers? Who knows what will happen if you do this?

Example: "What happens when Blorbo McBlorbo gets his wish and Daisy doesn't make it to the plane on time? What happens when Obrolb finds out? How will this change Daisy and Blorbo's friendship?"

Best used for... I honestly don't know. This style of summary does not vibe with me. Mystery fic maybe? Sorry guys.

Option 10 - The Multipack:

Got a bunch of shorter fics in one work? No way of summarising them all without a wall of text larger than the Great Wall of China? This one is similar to The No Frills in that you're not describing the plots themselves and similar to The Trope Lure in that often broader genres and tropes are mentioned. What links those fics? Are they all in the same fandom? The same pairing? The same challenge? Just slap that right in the summary. A chapter list with 1-2 word trope/pairing summaries can be included or not.

Example: "A collection of Blorbo/Daisy/Obrolb fics based on Tumblr prompts. Chapter 1: Regency AU Chapter 2: Werewolves vs vampires Chapter 3: Ghost!Daisy Chapter 4: Space pirates!"

Best used for (obviously) works that are compilations of fic.

Option ? - The Void:

I said The Excerpt was the quickest and easiest summary to do. I lied, well... I didn't exactly lie. What is quicker and easier than not having a summary at all? After all, that's what the tags are for.

Example:

Best used for... nothing? Write a summary, guys. Please?

[pomefioredove]

Hiii!! Could you possibly do headcanons of overblot boys + adeuce with a s/o who likes to collect figures or like manga or something along those lines? Also I love your writing you’re awesome sauce. feel free to delete or ignore if you don’t wanna do it!! I understand :3

<3<3 ofc

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ collector! reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

looking at... [vaguely gestures to Heartslabyul] all that, I can't imagine Riddle has any grounds to complain about knick-knacks or clutter. he literally lives in a minimalist's worst nightmare. he also gives the impression of a collector of odd trinkets. like stamps or antique tea cups. grandma vibes. probably gets you a nice display cabinet for your things

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace is a sixteen year old boy who balls and thinks of himself as a lady's man. and, I mean, he loves you, but you can tell what he's about to say before he even opens his mouth. weeeeeeb... then he saves up all year just to gift you that one ridiculously priced figure for your birthday. like I said, he loves you, he just has a very... defensive temperament

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I feel like Deuce is a really good listener (or, at least, he knows how to be quiet when you're talking, unlike a certain other Heartslabyul first year), even if he doesn't quite get it. besides maybe Jack, he's the most willing to watch your favorite shows with you, read your mangas together, hear about each individual trinket you own... even if he still doesn't understand. it makes you happy <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona is more of a meh guy. "what do you want, a cookie?" is probably in his top ten favorite expressions. things to say when he doesn't care about something. and. listen. he cares about you, he does, but he's not really the type to pretend. he'll let you talk about your collection, though. as long as you're happy with him, you won't seek out Idia and become completely intolerable (his words, not mine!)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul is having flashbacks to all the junk that Jade and Floyd hoard. but, hey: at least your collection isn't of broken toasters or wild mushrooms. he can respect the pride you take in your hobbies, and the care you... wait, how much does all this cost?

...yeah. okay, he understands. definitely not toasters or mushrooms. your room is practically a museum

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[Jamil voice] "once you're done playing with your toys will you come help me clean up the lounge"

no, he doesn't get it. you haven't said how much all of this costs because you think he might have a heart attack if he saw the numbers, and you keep your belongings tidy enough for him not to stress. so he doesn't complain

(and also because he knows they mean a great deal to you)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[Vil voice] "once you're done playing with your toys will you clean up the lounge" lol

he's not exactly jumping for joy when you spend all your allowance on plastic merchandise and picture books. I mean, he's already had to lend you his winter coat, and there was that week you had to stay at Pomefiore because the water at Ramshackle was out... but making purchases seems to make you happy, so he begrudgingly accepts it

there are worse hobbies to have, after all. [side-eyeing Rook]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I don't even want to write Idia's part. I'm afraid he'll materialize in my room and start fangirling over this (rip idia shroud you would have loved x readers)

but seriously, he's been recommending you his favorite mangas and animes and games. he probably buys you authentic figures that are thousands of thaumarks on a whim 'cause you kinda like the character. very sweet. very thoughtful. when should I book your wedding. etc

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you'd think that Malleus would be astonished? WRONG this guy lives with Lilia "hip with the kids" Vanrouge. who is not only a hoarder, but someone who most certainly has a shelf of manga and figures from his favorite games somewhere in the cavernous hole he calls a room. Malleus has probably gotten him one for his birthday (after the 5 hours it took for him to figure out how to buy things online). so like. it's no big deal to him. if you ever mention wanting new manga or figures or... anything... he will give you twice the amount of thaumarks necessary. he's like that

[alsofoundinpeas]

I Don't Need To Know

Summary: Spencer Reid has no choice but to watch the love of his life fall in love with another man. 

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Major character death. HEAVY angst. Bittersweet ending? Graphic depictions of violence (for maybe two lines). Fingering (f receiving). P in v sex/unprotected sex (in terms of a condom, birth control is mentioned). Loss of virginity (both m and f). Creampie (god I hate that word ugh!!). Slight age gap (roughly five years). Argument scene that may be triggering for readers that have experienced SA or manipulation from a partner (nothing of that nature actually happens, but just in case).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: This is inspired by Will He by Joji, so I highly recommend listening to it while reading. I cried several times while writing this, but I felt it needed to be done so here it is. :’) Please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :) (I also ask that my work not be uploaded to other platforms or translated without my explicit permission. Thank you!)

I got knots all up in my chest… Just know, I’m trying my best…

Spencer had always found the saying “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be” absurd. He couldn’t fathom willingly letting go of something he loved on the off chance that it would come back to him. Not after having everything he’d ever loved ripped from his clutches throughout his lifetime. To him, love wasn’t about releasing someone to see if they’d return. It was about holding on as though his very survival depended on it—like a feral cat finally finding food after days of hunger, sinking its teeth in and never letting go, no matter the cost. 

It wasn’t until today that Spencer finally understood the meaning of that stupid phrase. And he wished with every intricate thread of his being that he didn’t. 

Five years. Five long, agonizing years had passed. So why was he here now? Why, after what felt like an eternity of pleading for just one more moment with her, did the universe decide now was the time to give him what he wanted? 

Ironically, the timing only drove home another phrase he’d always hated: “Be careful what you wish for.” 

There she was, as beautiful as the day he’d met her, sitting in the corner of what had once been their favorite café. The sunlight streaming through the windows catches on her ring, the enticing glinting of the jewelry drawing his eyes away from her face momentarily. His heart is in his throat. She’s still wearing the wedding ring he’d given her, twisting it in the same nervous fashion she always used to. 

And there across from her is a man that isn’t him making her smile. 

‘Cause when you look… When you laugh… When you smile… I’ll bring you back…

Spencer Reid had never been a particularly angry man. He had his moments—who didn’t?—but he usually considered himself level-headed, patient. But now, watching Y/N hide a bashful smile behind the rim of her mug as she gazed at the man across from her, all Spencer could feel was rage. Raw, unbridled rage. It flared up inside him as her head tipped back, the sound of her laughter crashing over him like a tidal wave, stirring his veins with a violent rush. The same sound he’d yearned to hear again for five fucking years. And it was all because of him—Ben. 

That was his girl. His perfect, beautiful girl. The love of his life. His angel. 

All Spencer could do was stand there, feeling every broken shard of his non-existent heart pierce his chest. 

And now I’m sad… And I’m a mess… And now we high… That’s why I left… That’s why I left…

It wasn’t meant to be like this. Spencer had never wanted to leave her. But that choice wasn’t his to make. 

That cold, cruel September night six years ago had robbed Spencer of his very existence. 

Everything that could have gone wrong during that case did. The bullet wasn’t meant for him, but he took it anyway. He had traded his life in exchange for JJ’s. It wasn’t even meant to be heroic. It wasn’t done out of love. It was just instinct. It’s who he was as a person. 

Was. 

The word leaves a bitter taste in the back of his throat. Because that’s his reality now. He was a person; an agent, a professor, a son, a husband…

Now he’s… well, that he didn’t quite understand. As a man of science, Spencer was stumped by what he could even call his existence now. Calling himself a ghost felt silly—he felt as alive as the day he’d died. And yet, that was essentially what he was. A whisper of the person he’d once been. A soul caught between worlds. 

Spencer could still feel the exact moment his soul wrenched free from its physical tether to the world. Even recalling it sent a shiver down his spine. It hadn’t been peaceful, as so many people claimed in interviews. No… it had been agony in its purest form; white hot and searing as his very essence clawed its way out from his ribs. There was no light waiting for him to step into it and find peace.

Instead, he had watched helplessly as the team he called his family swarmed his dead body, uselessly screaming for a medic as the crimson puddle underneath him grew and smeared beneath their hands as they knelt beside him. He had watched Y/N swing open their door that fateful night, the excited grin on her face vanishing as she came face to face with a tearful Emily instead of the husband she’d been eagerly waiting for. And he had watched the guilt eat away at JJ as their eyes met at his funeral, the hatred on Y/N’s face so raw it made Spencer’s own stomach twist. 

Despite the Bureau's insistence, she took charge of every detail—planning his funeral in a way that honored everything Spencer would have wanted. Y/N held Diana as she wept over her baby boy's body. She delivered a eulogy that left even Spencer in shambles. She was the first person to arrive and the last to leave, waiting until everyone had left to sink to her knees beside his casket and howl her grievances. 

For that first year, Y/N was as strong as she could be during the day. She handled everything that needed to be done, as long as the sun was still up. But when night fell, and the suffocating silence of their empty home settled in… that’s when she’d finally let herself break. 

Spencer had never been a religious man, but the year after his death felt like an endless descent into his own personal hell. He would never escape the sound of those gut-wrenching screams. He cursed whatever force had condemned him to an eternity where he could do nothing but watch, powerless as Y/N crumpled to the floor night after night, her wails so desperate it seemed as though she thought breaking the sound barrier might somehow bring him back to life. 

All he could do was stay beside her, silently pleading for his touch to somehow reach her, his hands brushing over her again and again, unnoticed and unfelt. 

Time was no longer a concept to Spencer. 

The limits of his existence perplexed him. He couldn’t roam freely, couldn’t go where he pleased—he could only follow where Y/N went. It was as if his very soul was bound to hers, linked by some invisible string that kept him tied to her even in death. It brought him both joy and sorrow: joy in the fact that he could still watch her, still admire the way she carried on, and sorrow because she would never know he was there, silently urging her forward, so incredibly proud of her strength. 

The longer he lingered, the more control he gained over his abilities. It started with the smallest things—a strand of hair lifting with the brush of his fingers, a faint chill against her skin as he cradled her face while she slept. But soon, it became more. Doors creaked open as he stepped into rooms behind her, and objects shifted ever so slightly from their places when he pushed with just enough force. 

There were times when she seemed to sense him—moments Spencer cherished more than anything. In those fleeting instances, it felt as though she could see him, even though he knew she couldn’t. Every day, rain or shine, she visited his grave, and when she spoke to him, her gaze would drift forward, as if she were looking into the honey-colored eyes she once loved. Her hands would rest open in her lap, as though she knew he was holding them. When she was home, she’d speak aloud every thought that came to mind, as though she knew he could hear every word that fell from her perfect lips. And he always responded as if she could hear him in return. That was their new life for the first year after his death. 

After a year and one day, he was gone. 

That’s where his understanding of the phrase “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be” came from. It was because she had set him free. 

One whole year had passed. The hardest year of Y/N’s life. She had knelt by his grave, laying fresh flowers with trembling hands, her tears falling freely for hours. When she finally stood to leave, her legs unsteady beneath her, she pressed a soft kiss to his headstone. Through her tears, she whispered how much she missed him, how he never left her thoughts, and how she’d never stop loving him—but above all, she wished he could be at peace. And on the night following the anniversary of his passing, her wish was granted. He had faded into nothingness, existing only in her dreams and memories for five long years. 

But now, he was back. Because he had always been hers. 

Will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips? Will your shadow remember the swing of my hips? 

Spencer remembered their first time like it was yesterday, though he wasn’t sure if he could thank his eidetic memory or the fact that it was because of how remarkable it had been for the memory lingering so vividly...

“You’re lying! You’ve really never had sex before?” 

Y/N squawked the words incredulously as she sat atop Spencer’s lap, grinning down at the stammering mess of a man beneath her. Spencer’s hands flexed against her hips, unintentionally squeezing as he took a deep breath to calm himself. 

They were inside Spencer’s apartment, having enjoyed the museum and dinner but still craving each other’s company too badly to end the night there. What started as sweet, innocent pecks pressed up against the kitchen counter had quickly devolved into ravenous, passionate kisses that had them stumbling towards the couch. It was going so well… until Spencer panicked after Y/N had whispered into his ear asking how far he wanted things to go. 

That resulted in him spewing out the fact that he, at twenty-six years old, was a virgin.

“No, I haven’t! Why is that so hard to believe?” Spencer huffs, his small smile belying his annoyed tone. 

It was their sixth date total in a span of four months, but it was their first date as an actual couple. Spencer had reluctantly agreed to let Penelope set him up on a blind date after his failed attempt at taking JJ out had shattered any of the confidence he’d built up, leaving the man petrified of taking his chances romantically again. He suspected Penelope’s pity for him was why she was setting up said date to begin with, but he quickly found himself grateful that he went. 

Y/N had been friends with Penelope for years, having bonded online over some indie punk rock band that was no longer around and developing a close friendship from there despite their age difference. When Penelope found out Y/N had moved to Virginia and was single, she couldn’t resist setting the two up. 

It’s Y/N’s turn to stammer as she quickly thinks of a response. “I, uh… you’re just so handsome that I naturally assumed you’d had sex before.” 

Spencer blinks up at her skeptically, trying to detect even the faintest clue that the otherworldly woman in his lap was lying to him. All he found was nervous adoration as she stared back down at him, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink. It suited her. He wanted to cause it more often. 

“I had, um… I graduated super early from both high school and college, so I didn’t do much dating.” 

Instead of the judgment Spencer expected to see spread across her face, Y/N simply just hummed in understanding, her eyes curious as they watched him. He’d elaborate more on his unfortunate (for lack of a better term) adolescence later. For now, he just wanted to keep from scaring the poor girl off of his lap so he could taste her sweet chapstick again. 

“I see…” Y/N murmurs before continuing, shifting forward slightly with a smirk. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m also a virgin.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened almost comically as he gawked up at her. His heart stutters in his chest, his mouth going dry. His tongue pokes out in a meek attempt at wetting his lips, his voice cracking as he responds. 

“Et tu, Y/N?” 

Oh fuck. Spencer hadn’t meant to let the lame reference slip from his mouth. She just made him so nervous that he couldn’t think straight, and Rome had been heavily on his mind since she had perched herself in his lap. Specifically Roman goddesses, because she looked like she should be amongst them on their thrones. Surely she was going to leave now—-

Loud, genuine laughter bubbles from Y/N’s lips, the noise startling Spencer as she tips her head back and her hands grip his shoulders to stabilize herself. She thought it was funny. She thought he was funny. 

“That’s, like, the last thing I expected you to say,” Y/N managed once her laughter had simmered down into giggles. “But, to answer your question… I too have really never had sex before.” 

Spencer knew that it wasn’t due to a lack of suitors. The woman was sex personified; the archetype of beauty and seduction wrapped into one perfect being. The twitching in his pants brought his attention back to the situation at hand. He could ask her later why that was. For now, he brought his focus back to her. 

In an uncharacteristically bold move, Spencer tilted his head up to brush their noses together. “Would you… would you want to?” 

It didn’t take a profiler to notice the hitch in her breath or the almost imperceptible squeezing of her thighs around his hips. Her pupils were already blown, her lower lip trembling from what Spencer prayed was anticipation and not regret as his question settled over her. The silence stretched between them, the seconds feeling like hours in Spencer’s overly anxious mind. 

He’d done it now. He’d gone off and opened his stupid mouth and frightened the one woman he could actually see himself having a future with because the head straining against his zipper overruled the head housing his supposed genius level IQ. The apologies were already forming in the back of his throat, but they weren’t needed because she— she was kissing him? 

“God, yes. Please,” Y/N murmured eagerly against his lips, effectively clearing every cohesive thought from his brain. 

If Spencer thought her words were enough to bring upon his undoing, he was sorely mistaken. The grinding of her hips against his erection ignited something inside of him that he had no idea existed. It was feral, drowning out all of his other emotions and replacing them with one thing: primal, unfiltered desire. 

Spencer understood now why men used to start wars over women. 

With each gasp that fell upon his ears, Spencer pledged his allegiance to her. Every stuttered moan that came into existence from his hips rutting up into her clothed core fueled his devotion to her. It was animalistic, the way his hands gripped her ass and pulled her tighter against his body as his mouth devoured her now, every cell swimming through his veins screaming for more. More of her touch, more of her taste, more of her sounds... God, those heavenly sounds that had Spencer finally believing in salvation, if only in the form of her skin against his.  

Tongues danced together as layers were hastily stripped away. Layers of insecurity. Layers of self-doubt. Layers of uncertainty. Their clothes fell to the ground as though the fabric burned them, clumsy hands fidgeting with buttons and tugging at zippers with a vendetta. 

Those layers that had crumbled so easily were replaced instead with the firm knowledge that this was exactly where they were meant to be: in each other’s arms, trembling and panting as their world’s trajectory tilted so violently it uprooted them from their upright position, knocking them down against the leather cushions as their bodies attempted to mend their separated souls back into one. 

Spencer choked on the words he wanted to worship her with, so instead he used the most primitive sense he could to get his message across: touch. His lips sucked purpling reminders into the crook of her neck of what they both knew to be true now: He is hers just as much as she is his. Lithe fingers tugged the soaked fabric of her lace panties down until they landed in a heap with their other clothes. Those same fingers pause at the crest of her most intimate spot, his eyes meeting hers with a silent plea. 

Y/N found herself in the same position, her words failing her as they were strangled in her throat by the overwhelming adoration she felt for the man hovering above her. Instead of chanting her desire for Spencer to please touch her, she canted her hips up in approval. 

Her moans were swallowed by swollen lips that claimed the sound straight from her body as nimble fingers dug themselves into the deepest parts of her. Their rhythm was clumsy but steadfast, her hips bucking against his hand in jerky movements as the palm of his hand pressed against her clit. Spencer’s own hips ground against the bare skin of her thigh, shielded only by the immature fabric of his equation-covered boxers. 

Spencer hadn’t for a second thought the night was going to go like this. If he had known he’d have the definition of art itself clawing at his shoulders and panting into his mouth while he made her legs tremble beneath him, he wouldn’t have worn what he deemed his lucky boxers. At least they had done their job, he supposed. 

Their lips separated completely as a guttural moan wrenched its way from Y/N’s throat, her body beginning to thrash wildly underneath him as the tension in her lower belly coiled tighter. Spencer wouldn’t allow her first time to happen on his couch. She was much too precious for that. But he’d already made the decision to unravel her at least once while they were there, to bring her over the edge before taking her into his bedroom so that he could experience the glorious sight of her falling apart more than once tonight. 

Spencer was a virgin, not a prude. He’d seen porn before. He’d read erotic novels. Anything he could use to try to prepare himself for the real experience, he did. But nothing could have prepared him for the downright visceral reaction Y/N had as his fingers curled and brushed against the rough patch of skin inside of her that caused the tension building in her body to snap. Her cries of pleasure tore through him as her pussy clenched around his fingers, his free hand leaving its place beside her head to keep her thighs pried open. He quickly shifted up onto his knees to watch her taking his fingers as she came, taking the pleasure he inflicted upon her. 

He sang her praises while slowing his pace, cooing softly at her as he stroked her hair and worked her through the aftershocks of her orgasm. Only when she was squirming and whining beneath him did he finally remove his fingers, sucking them into his mouth greedily. Y/N’s mouth gaped open as her chest heaved, her eyes locked on Spencer as his tongue lapped over his fingers, enjoying her essence with a groan. Her body sagged into the couch, a delighted laugh spilling from her exhausted frame as she smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of his living room. 

“Do you still want to keep going?” Spencer breathed as he gazed down at her, his cheeks flushed and eyes full of something that made Y/N's heart flutter. “B-because we can stop there if you want. I just… I want to do what makes you happy.” 

Above her was the man she’d recognized, soft and timid, but now with a newfound air of confidence in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Above her was the man that she wanted more than anything. Above her was the man that she knew, without a shadow of doubt, would be her husband. 

“Spencer… if you don’t fuck me right now, then I’ll die a virgin, right here on your couch... and it will be all your fault.” 

Spencer’s hearty chuckles filled the room, his nose twitching as he grinned down at the dramatic woman. He simply couldn’t let that be her fate, could he? 

Shaking his head, he stooped down to press a gentle kiss to her nose before standing from the couch, offering her his (clean) hand. Y/N’s face twisted in confusion as she stared up at him, still reeling from the earth-shattering orgasm surprisingly given to her by the same man who’d eagerly rambled about the lore behind Doctor Who on their first date when she’d mentioned she hadn’t seen it. 

“Not here, silly girl. The bedroom,” He whispered. 

He guided her down the dark hallway as though he were escorting the most priceless treasure known to man to his bed, and in his eyes, he was. His hand stayed steady on her hip as she swayed lightly, her body pressed into his side as he opened the door with shaky hands. Any confidence Spencer had managed to muster throughout the night vanished as they crossed the threshold into his bedroom, his teeth gnawing at his lower lip gently as his courage began to crack. 

In an almost startling display of being seen, something Spencer had never experienced before, Y/N looped her arms around his neck and tugged him into a kiss that simultaneously stole the breath from his lungs and filled him with the air he needed to breathe again, effectively calming his nerves.

“It’s okay,” She reassured him against his lips. “It’s just me.” 

She walked them backward until the backs of her knees pressed into his cool comforter, taking over where Spencer so willingly handed her the reigns while he regained his momentum. She sat on the edge of his bed, her hands pressed into his hips to keep him from following after her. Her eyes met his, the moonlight streaming through his bedroom window illuminating her as though she were a vision, a figment of his imagination that he’d conjured up in the dead of night, ready to haunt his every waking moment once he inevitably woke up to an empty bed. She was too good to be true. 

Spencer’s hands fell to rest on her shoulders, just to give himself proof that Y/N was real and that he hadn’t dreamed her up or somehow followed in his mother’s footsteps and succumbed to early onset schizophrenia. 

She was real and she was here, eye level with the tent in his boxers and naked as the day she was born, her warm breath fanning across the smattering of hair trailing down from his belly button to below his underwear. His muscles tensed and twitched as she smirked up at him, pressing a tender kiss to the head of his cock through the thin fabric. His entire body flinched from that one touch, his brows furrowing together as he hissed quietly. 

“N-not that I wouldn’t love to feel your mouth on me—“ Spencer’s pitch raised as her hands found the elastic of his waistband, pulling his boxers down his legs. “But I… I won’t last if you do.” 

The fondness in her eyes quelled any humiliation he felt from having uttered those words. 

Placing a kiss to his hip, she nodded in understanding before shuffling backwards to lay in the middle of his bed, with him kneeling onto the mattress after her. The sight of her— stretched out and languid and looking at him as if she wanted to ravage him— had him sending up a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever in the universe had deemed him worthy enough of having this divine of a woman in his life. 

As Spencer reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom, Y/N stammers, grabbing his attention. He watches for a moment as she flounders over her words, his brow furrowing in concern at her sudden diffidence. 

“Are you sure you still want to do this?”

“I’m on birth control if you want to skip the condom!” 

Spencer inhales sharply at the same time she smiles sheepishly up at him, her blurted words almost making him finish before they’d even started. He holds her gaze, tracing her irises for any hint of hesitancy. When he finds none, he nods once, swallowing hard. 

“I— uh. Um...” 

It was rare that Spencer Reid was rendered speechless, but Y/N had managed to do it with just eleven words. He clears his throat, trying again. 

“Yes. Yes, I would like to skip the condom. Only if you’re absolutely sure that’s what you want.” 

“Yes. It is. I pinky promise.” 

Y/N holds up her pinky for him, the sight so endearing he can practically feel his heart melt away, dripping in a sticky mess inside him. He just grins, linking his pinky with hers before he moves to settle over her once more. 

Her fingers tangle themselves in his hair as his elbows dig into the mattress beside her ribs. The flushed head of his cock bumps against her clit as he reaches down to line himself up at her entrance, a small whine leaving her lips at the sensation. He repeats the action, dizzy from the sound of her soft noises. She was still soaked from their time on the couch, a small feeling of pride welling in Spencer’s chest at the knowledge that not only did he make her cum, but he’d kept her wet while they made it here. 

His lips meet hers in a searing kiss, the both of them quivering with anticipation at giving themselves so intimately to someone for the first time. He was happy it was her. And she was happy it was him. 

Spencer couldn’t remember a time where his mind had ever been quiet. All he knew was incessant thoughts and worries, unable to put a halt to the chaos jumbling around his brain. But as he pressed forward and sunk into Y/N for the first time, his entire mind went blank. White static crowded the spaces where various facts and tidbits of information had been stored, the only thing he was able to focus on now being the sheer ecstasy coursing through his body from being inside of her. 

His mouth hung open as his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips stilling as they pressed flush against hers. She mirrored his response, squeaking out an “oh!” as her walls fluttered around the intrusion instinctively. He throbbed in response, his head dropping to rest in the crook of her neck, unable to stop the pitiful whimper that escaped from behind clenched teeth. 

She was so tight. So wet. So warm. 

Sparks of pleasure zinged up and down his spine as he remained still, waiting patiently for Y/N to adjust to both his size and to the feeling of being filled for the first time in general. He’d wait as long as she needed him to. All he wanted was for her to feel good. To enjoy this as much as he was. 

He was a humble man, truly. But even he wasn’t too shy to admit he’d been gifted with a size that was bigger than average. Not necessarily just in length, falling just shy of seven inches, but in girth as well.  

Spencer peppered soft kisses up and down her flushed skin, feeling her rapid pulse beneath his lips. He was sure she could feel his own heartbeat pounding against his ribs from where their bare chests were pressed together. Her nipples were taut, pressing into his skin enticingly. He wanted to touch them. Taste them. But he’d wait until she was ready. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. 

At her gentle nod, Spencer lifted his head to press his forehead against hers, their lips brushing together as he pulls his hips back. The sensation of her grip tightening in his hair as he pushed forward does more to him than he’d care to admit, but he still lets her hear just how affected he is by her. With a shaky moan, Spencer repeats the motion, easing out of her before gently rocking back into her. He keeps this up for a few minutes, her sharp breaths dissolving into muted moans of her own. 

“You can— you can move faster if y-you want.” 

Spencer’s eyes flutter shut at her words, and he’s pressing a fervent kiss to her lips before he begins to really move. The sound of skin smacking together begins to fill the air as he ruts his hips into hers, his walls bearing witness to every pleasured noise that spills between them. His pace is frenzied, his rhythm stuttered, but it feels so good that neither of them really care. 

Y/N’s nails roamed his body now, alternating between dragging harsh lines into the planes of his back and burying into his shoulders to leave little tender half moons in their wake. Spencer yearned to pull every single noise that he could from her throat, planting his hands beside her head and hefting himself up for better leverage before his lips wrapped around her right nipple. He sucks harshly at the pert bud, reveling in the desperate whimper it causes. 

Spencer grunts when she clenches around him, letting his mouth glide over to her neglected breast, his hips hammering into hers now as she cries out his name over and over. He was close… so, so close. But he needed to make her cum one more time before he’d allow himself to. He needed to know what it felt like for her to fall apart around his cock. With every ounce of willpower he had, Spencer slows his hips to a stop inside of her. 

Y/N whined her discontent at his sudden pause, her eyes opening to blink hazily up at him. “Why’d you… why’d you stop?” She panted, her fingers finding and twisting her own nipples as if she couldn’t help but to touch herself. 

Spencer muffled a curse at the sight, sitting back on his haunches as he stared down at the woman beneath him with reverence. 

“Flip onto your stomach for me, angel.”

She does as instructed, wiggling her hips coyly as Spencer grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and stuffs it underneath her hips to prop her up better, ensuring she’d be comfortable. Once she’s settled on her front, Spencer wasted no time in pressing himself back into her, both of them releasing a moan so loud he’s surprised the walls don’t shake. Thank God he didn’t have neighbors right now. 

He eased himself down so his chest is pressed to her back, lavishing her neck and shoulder in open mouthed kisses while his hips drilled into her. This angle was deeper, allowing him to plow directly into her g-spot as she writhed and begged incoherently beneath him. He laced his left hand with hers, shoving them into his mattress. His other hand stuffed itself between the pillow and her wriggling body until the pads of his fingers found her clit, his breath coming out in sharp pants into her ear. 

Y/N felt delirious with pleasure, bucking her hips back in a feeble attempt to meet his. He began whispering into her ear about how good she felt around him, thanking her for allowing him to fuck her, praising her for taking him so well… 

His words paired with his fingers circling her clit have her second orgasm ripping through her body with so much ferocity that tears begin to fall down her cheeks, her eyes squeezing shut and her hand clutching his so tightly her knuckles whitened as she wailed into a pillow, gushing around him. 

Spencer let out his own guttural moan at the feeling, spilling into her with a shout as he planted his head between her shoulder blades, his hips weakly thrusting into her as they rode out their climaxes. 

He held her until her tremors stopped. He kissed her forehead before he darted off to the bathroom to get a warm rag to clean her with. He thanked her in soft whispers as her eyes began to drift shut before he’d even finished cleaning his mess between her thighs. 

And he knew, watching the gorgeous woman before him sleep so soundly in his bed after they’d just defiled each other’s innocence, that he was looking at his future wife. 

Will your lover caress you the way that I did? Will you notice my charm if he slips up one bit? 

The air was thick with tension as Y/N stared at Ben, her chest heaving and eyes watering at the hurt look on his face. Spencer watched from the corner, his concern for his wife outweighing the jealousy he had previously felt when he watched the couple slip into her— though he still selfishly thought of it as their— bed. Y/N had been dating Ben for three months now. That made for three months that Spencer ached so heavily he’d sometimes wish he could fade back into nothingness if it meant he didn’t have to watch the love of his life with another man. 

The furthest Ben and Y/N had gone physically was a few pecks here and there, with Y/N always being the one to draw away and cut the kisses short. Ben had played the nice guy act, reassuring her that he understood her hesitance and that he’d be okay doing whatever she was comfortable with. Spencer despised him. He could see right through Ben’s facade, and if he could do more than nudge a door open, he’d make that hatred known. But he couldn’t. 

Spencer watched on with furrowed brows as Y/N reached a shaky hand over and turned the lamp on her nightstand on, illuminating the dark room in a soft glow that contrasted with the dark energy that began to cloud the small space. Spencer could see it all on Ben’s face: hurt, betrayal, anger. He could see the fear, guilt, and shame on Y/N’s. 

This was the first night Y/N had tried to push past her discomfort so that she could offer Ben more than just false promises of physical intimacy. It started slow, with soft kisses that dissolved into hungrier ones as they laid together in the dark. But the second Ben went to roll on top of her, sliding a hand down her body to pull her hips against his, she panicked. Her body jolted, and her hands had shot out instinctively to shove him off of her, leaving them where they were now in some sort of silent standoff. 

Spencer knew as soon as it had happened just why it did. She had thought of him. His guilt overruled the smug pleasure he’d felt as he watched it unfold. As painful as it had been watching Y/N move on with her life, all he ultimately wanted was for her to be happy. Spencer had been barely thirty-five when he passed, and she had only been thirty. That left almost an entire lifetime ahead for her, and even though he so desperately wanted to have lived that lifetime with her, he had to accept that that wasn’t what fate had in store for them. 

“I-I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Spencer’s jaw tightened at the same time Y/N’s dropped. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N leveled Ben with a narrowed glare, rage flashing in her eyes in place of the shame that had just been there. 

“I get that you have a dead husband. I’ve tried to be patient with you. But fuck! It's been six years, Y/N. It’s time for you to move on,” Ben seethes, his face reddening with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “I can’t even touch you without you flinging me off of you!” 

It’s as though Y/N is the exact physical embodiment of Spencer’s own emotions, physically reacting in the way that he can’t. She was out of the bed before Spencer could even blink, marching over to the bedroom door and yanking it open. Ben watches in bewilderment, his mind clearly not catching up with what was happening. 

“Get out of my fucking house.” 

Y/N’s voice is cold as she stares menacingly at Ben. When he doesn’t move, she speaks again, her voice louder. “Get out of my fucking house, Ben!” 

Ben stammers, standing from the bed and attempting to plead his case. “Babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, I just-”

“I don’t care. Get out of my house,” Y/N repeats herself, cutting off his pathetic excuses. 

Spencer smirks proudly from beside her.

 That’s his girl. 

Ben sighs, hanging his head and scrubbing his hands frustratedly across his face. 

“If you kick me out over some guy that’s been dead for six years, then we’re over. For good.” 

Spencer cackles at Ben’s proposition, though it can’t be heard by either party in the room. That was his attempt at fixing things? Seriously? Good riddance. He’d drag the guy out of there himself if he could. 

“If I haven’t made myself clear, we’re already over. No one talks about my husband like that. Now get out before I call the police and have you escorted off of my property.” 

It doesn’t take long after that for Ben to tuck his tail and leave, slamming the front door on his way out. Y/N’s steam runs out the second his car pulls out of her driveway, tears streaming down her face as she curls up on her couch. 

Spencer’s own chest twinges uncomfortably as he sits beside her, stroking her hair despite her inability to actually receive the comfort. He didn’t know what hurt more; watching his beautiful, broken girl sob and not being able to stop her tears, or being the cause of the tears himself. He had to do something, anything to let her know he was still there and that he still loved her beyond death. 

The same time Spencer stands is the same time Y/N’s tears pause, a hiccup rocking her frame before she glances up. 

“Spence?” Y/N calls softly. Spencer’s heart would have stopped right there had he not already been dead.

Spencer turns slowly from his place at the end of the couch, his eyes wide and hopeful as he responds. “Yes, angel?” 

His hope fades as he realizes she isn’t looking at him, rather her eyes are just darting around the room. 

“Spencer I… I know it’s been awhile since I’ve talked to you. And for that, I’m so sorry,” Y/N starts, her voice cracking. “I don’t know if you can even hear me. Or if you ever could. But I miss you. I miss you in my bones. I just… you were— are my everything.” 

The lump in her throat grows as the tears begin to stream down her face again. Spencer’s own eyes sting with tears that she’ll never see drip down his face. He swallows hard, making his way over to their— yes, their— bookshelf. 

“I’d give anything to have you back in my arms… I should have begged you to leave the BAU and just teach full-time if it meant I could still have you here, safe and at home. It’s not even a home without you.” 

Y/N sobs freely now, tucking her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them before she buries her head into them. 

Every ounce of grief, guilt, sadness, and anger from what his death has done to his precious girl fuels Spencer to do something he deemed impossible: he yanks the leatherbound notebook holding their vows inside of it off of the bookshelf, sending it tumbling to the ground in a desperate attempt to show her that he’s still there and that he still loves her. 

The noise causes a yelp to slip from Y/N’s lips, her head jerking up as the book hits the hardwood floor with a loud thump. It had fallen open exactly to where Spencer wanted it to: the page starting his vows to her.  Y/N crawled from the couch to the book, her trembling hands lifting the journal so that she can read the words her husband wrote to her ten years ago. With a deep exhale, she sits cross-legged on the hardwood floor, reading Spencer’s chicken scratch he called handwriting with a heavy heart. And for the first time since his casket closed, she feels a sense of peace wash over her. She was going to be okay, despite it all, because he was hers just as much as she was his.

Continued A/N: Ahh!! Ghost!Spencer my beloved. :') JUST TO CLARIFY: I am not a JJ hater!! It just fit better for the story to have her be the one this all happened for. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this fic just as much as I enjoyed writing it. I look forward to sharing more in the future with you as my blog grows <3

K <3

[ms-demeanor]

So I have vision insurance again which means I was able to go to the optometrist and get glasses through insurance for the first time in 11 years (instead of paying out of pocket and getting glasses from zenni) and here are my notes:

It's *NOT GREAT* that Luxotica is mentioned by name on the insurance card printout

I know everything got more expensive in the last ten years, but frames also got a lot more expensive and for some reason there was a huge gap in prices - my insurance covered $130 for frames and the office had a bunch of frames for $70 and a bunch of frames for $150 but basically no frames between those two price points.

When you say "I can't afford to go over the allowance" on XYZ thing they are not even *considering* the cost of progressive bifocals. So I was like "no coating, cheap frames, no extras" and then they were like "okay so the progressive bifocal is going to be over a hundred dollars more" and I was like "how much is the bifocal with a line" and they were like "oh that's only $15 but we don't consider that appropriate for your age, we recommend this other kind of lens" and it doesn't matter what you consider age appropriate for me, I can't afford that so we're not doing that.

The seventy dollar frames are all kind of trash. Super thin, super bendy, and not in a good "flexible fit" way but more in a "if you fall asleep in these you will wake up with broken glasses" way.

They wrote down my reading prescription wrong? For the last ten years I've been slowly creeping up from +.25 to my current +2.50; they told me it had increased but the printout said +.75 so either my prescription has been wrong for a while or they missed the 2 at the front of that number and my glasses are going to show up with a low magnification. (I noticed after I'd left the office but before the glasses arrived).

Given all of that, with insurance: $25 for a pair of glasses, which included the office copay.

So then of course I went to zenni and ordered glasses anyway because I've been wearing the same frame design for seven years and want another pair that look exactly like that.

Progressive bifocals WERE the most expensive part of the order, and because my prescription is stronger they are getting progressively more expensive - initially the upgrade to bifocal cost something like $30 for a lower magnification, now they're $85 for the stronger prescription.

And that's it, that's the expensive part. Fifteen dollar frames, five dollar anti-reflective coating, total for bifocals was around a hundred dollars; I got a pair of single-vision sunglasses for under $20.

Part of the reason I decided to spend more at zenni than at my optometrist's office was because I was able to get good, sturdy frames that I know fit my face and will survive mosh pits and me falling asleep on them without cracking. In order to get the same thing at the optometrist's office I would have had to pay thirty dollars more for lenses as well as forty more for frames so I would have walked out of there paying more for a pair of glasses with frames that I wasn't super excited about (there was a pair that was *okay* but not great that were similar in construction to my current frames but more bulky and square) than I did for glasses that I know I like and a pair of sunglasses.

I did end up paying less out of pocket for the visit than I would have without the insurance, and $15 for a pair of back-up glasses isn't bad. But it was all-in-all a frustrating experience.

However: I've been wearing the same pair of glasses for three years and the anti-reflective coating is worn away in some places and they're so scratched that they're impossible to actually clean in some places and large bastard looked through them last week and was like "OH! No wonder you can't tell when you need to clean your windshield! You don't get to drive at night until those are replaced" so no matter what glasses I'm wearing next week they're going to be an improvement.

[unlimitedlust]

Chokehold - Noah Sebastian x Reader (+18)

Author's Note:

Heyy, I've had this idea in my head for a while now and it took me some time to finally write it so I hope y'all like it!!

I'm new to this fandom and this is my very first Noah Sebastian fanfiction, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Disclaimers: as any other content in this blog, this is a highly NSFW smutty story so if you're not into this kind of explicit content I advise you not to read it. Here you'll have a bit of plot and lots of porn, unprotected p in v (be safe out there), oral (f receiving), Noah being a giver, alcohol and lots of explicit descriptions.

English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes I eventually skipped while proof-reading it.

I wrote it to Sleep Token's "Chokehold", "Take Me Back To Eden" and "The Summoning", and also to Bad Omens' "The Death Of Piece Of Mind" and "What It Cost", so if you're into listening to something while reading, I recommend you these songs.

WC: 4.7K

Enjoy your time here and if you enjoy it, feel free to leave it a like and/or to reblog the story, your feedback is what keeps me writing!!

End of Author's Note

-0-

You were Bad Omens’ photographer for the tour, the one responsible for taking all the pictures the fans would go feral online, especially Noah’s, and you couldn’t help but to keep giving them more material, because even though you’d never admit it, you’d also secretly had a deep crush on him. 

The guys from the band and the crew would often joke about how Noah’s pictures were the best ones and how you privileged him over the rest of the band, but you always dismissed the subject by saying that it wasn’t your fault he had the better angle since he was the lead singer. It was true in some aspects, yes, but your skills for taking fantastic pictures no matter how challenging the circumstance was were undeniable, so in the end of the day, it wasn’t hard to reach the conclusion that Noah was your favorite.

You often caught yourself admiring the pictures you took of him, his perfect angelical features in contrast with his tattoo covered skin, the way his eyes would catch the lens like he was staring right into your soul through the camera separating you.

But that was all coming to an end tonight.

They’d just played their last concert of the tour and you’d all agreed to make a small (kind of) party to celebrate it at the boys’ place.

You felt bittersweet towards the event. You were happy to be partying with them and being able to enjoy the moment without the concern of taking the perfect pictures. But on the other hand, you were sad you wouldn’t be seeing the band daily anymore and you’d miss them because you’d gotten attached to them and to their jokes, and also (and obviously) because you wouldn’t be seeing Noah anymore.

Your flight home for the morning after the party was already booked and you’d already checked in to save you some time.

So you sighed when you walked inside the big house in front of you. You, like always, held your confident and unwavering poise before everyone, but deep down you were uneasy. Was this the last time you’d be seeing him? In how long? Or ever?

You couldn’t hear the sounds of your heels clicking on the wooden floor because at each step you got closer to the party where loud music was blasting and you soon found the small crowd of people in the main living room already having their own fun.

You felt an arm hooking on yours and suddenly Folio was pulling you through the people towards the rest of the band and you couldn’t help but to smile at the unexpected gesture.

Your heart raced and your cheeks burned as you got closer to Noah, who’d been watching you from the moment you arrived, but you played it cool like always as you got to them and Ruffilo immediately put a bottle of beer in your hand.

Noah couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

You didn’t know that, but he also had a strong crush on you and all of the band knew it. He always told them it was just a small crush and they should ignore it just as he did (or tried), because he wanted to keep it professional between you two.

But when you got to his sight and he saw you wearing that black leather crop top, with thin straps on your shoulders, just a zipper on the front imprisoning your breasts and highlighting your cleavage, along with a high-waisted skinny black skirt molding your curves and, mainly, your ass, bare toned legs on display and black boots on your feet, he was done.

You’d spent the last months practically living together in tour buses and stuff, but you always wore larger, baggy dark clothes that’d cover your body and blend you with the rest of the crew, so how well you looked caught not only Noah’s attention, but everyone else’s, the difference tonight was the fact that Noah just wouldn’t stop staring.

You felt confident, you knew you looked hot and secretly you’d chosen your clothes just for him, to impress him, to catch his attention. And your mission was successfully accomplished.

“Hey pretty” Noah reached his right arm out and pulled you to him in a side hug before kissing the top of your head.

“Hey handsome”

That exchange wasn’t new for you, it was like that every time you met, but this time, the way his lips lingered longer in your forehead as you inhaled his scent deeply got you very aware that something was different tonight. Was it because you were parting ways?

When he let you go he searched for the flustered expression you always had in your face when he did that, but sensed some apprehension instead, despite the grin forming on your lips.

Another thing you didn’t know is that Noah learned over time how to read you and he loved how cute you looked every time he got a shy smile out of your lips.

He loved how flustered you got when he gave the camera the looks he knew got you weak on your knees, because every time he did that, he saw how you unwittingly licked your lips as you checked out the pictures you’d just taken. And no, you didn’t have that same reaction over the pictures you took from the rest of the band, no matter how incredible they were.

“Gonna miss me now that the tour is over?” You teased him, taking a sip from your beer.

“Miss you? Why? We’re not going anywhere” Confusion splattered across Noah’s face as he had his full attention on you.

“You remember I live on the other side of the world right?”

His jaw visibly tensed when he finally processed the information you just brought him.

“Fuck…” Noah was frustrated “But you’re still coming for the barbecue tomorrow, right?” 

“Uh… Nope… My flight leaves early in the morning actually…” You felt guilty as the words came from your lips, the intensity of his glare over you stealing your breath as Noah looked like he’d just been stabbed.

“No, you can’t do that… Are you saying this is our last night with you until God knows when?”

He took a big gulp of his own beer, his knuckles white due to the hard grip on the bottle and on the counter behind him, until he sighed in defeat.

“Come on, it’s not like we’re never seeing each other again” You nudged him trying to cheer him up “All you gotta do is hire me as your photographer again” You winked at him and took another swing of your beer, but you didn’t miss the way he watched your lips wrapping around the bottle.

“You say it like we’ve fired you, but you forget you won’t get rid of us, and especially me that easy”

“Like I’d want to get rid of you” You rolled your eyes.

“You could’ve waited a little longer to go home though, are you that tired of looking at my face?” He teased, the smirk on his lips making you weak on your knees.

“Tired of looking at a catch like that? Never”

“You think I’m a catch? Good to know” The way his eyes burned as he looked at you up and down again raised goosebumps on your skin.

“You’re insufferable” 

“And you’re a terrible liar” He grabbed your hand “Now come on let’s have some fun”

The rest of the band along with other guests had gathered around the sofas in the middle of the room, all of them paying attention to Jolly, who was explaining the rules of the drinking game he’d just invented.

After a few drinks, beers and shots in, you along with anyone else got loose and the games that were tame at first got wilder as the night went on.

“Truth or dare, come on, never gets old and I’m dying for some revelations tonight” Folio spun an empty bottle in the center of the coffee table in front of them “bottom asks, top answers”

The bottle finally stopped spinning and you had the first round: Rufillo to Jolly.

Jolly chose dare and Rufillo made him drink 5 seconds of tequila.

Another spin. Folio to you.

“Come on honey, truth or dare?” He made the question with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Truth”

“Let’s heat things up a bit then: of the people in this room, who would you make out with?”

Your cheeks burned red with his question as all eyes were on you and the room went silent waiting for your answer. Yet you weren’t shy, the alcohol in your system had you bold at that point.

“Noah” 

“Yet you always deny he’s your favorite” Folio pretended to be offended.

You winked at Noah, who was sitting by your side, eyes narrowed in you as he raked them over you, visibly satisfied by your answer.

A few more rounds went by until the bottle landed on Noah.

“Truth or dare, buddy?” Folio had evil intentions in his eyes again and of course Noah wasn’t going to be spared.

“Dare”

“I dare you to take a body shot on the person you find the hottest in this room”

Noah left his place by your side as the boys brought him salt, a piece of lime and a shot of tequila. When he got up you felt your heart sinking in your chest with the realization he might choose another girl, but when he knelt in front of you, you lost your breath.

Noah rested his tattooed hands on your knees, uncrossed your legs and pulled you towards him, to the edge of the couch, the way he manhandled you catching you off guard as he was now between your legs and your skirt rose higher, getting dangerously shorter.

Heat pooled in your panties as you watched him lean you backwards and prepare you for the body shot. He placed the small glass of tequila in your cleavage, poured salt on your neck and the piece of lime between your lips.

“May I?” He splayed his hands on your thighs as the smug on his lips grew wider.

Since your lips were occupied by the piece of lime, you only nodded, watching him lick his lips as he leaned closer towards your neck. 

Noah took his time on licking the salt off your neck, swirling his tongue and kissing your skin in the process, then made his way down to your chest where his nose brushed against the valley of your breasts as he wrapped his lips around the shot glass to down it, and for last came up for the lime on your lips, his own ghosting over yours as he took it with his teeth, eyes locked on yours as he teased you in front of everyone, fingers sinking on your thighs as he seemed to be holding himself back.

Rufillo cleared his throat loudly and Noah quickly stood on his feet.

“Fuck I’m dizzy” Was all you could muster as you got up as well all flustered, pulling your skirt down as you headed for the kitchen for some water.

You were so aroused you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your core ached between your legs as you pressed them together hoping for some friction. You chugged down a glass of cold water in a vain attempt to ease your nerves, but it wasn’t water you were thirsty for.

The feel of his tongue and lips on your neck still lingered, tingling, and you wondered what he would do to you if you weren’t surrounded by people.

“Thirsty?” Noah materialized behind you, practically caging you, but also keeping some distance.

His eyes were darker than usual, burning holes in yours as he waited for your answer, and you both knew very well that “water” wasn’t the subject, and since this was your last night with them, with him, you weren’t running away anymore.

“Been the whole tour” You fired back at him and he took a step closer.

“Same on my part” He cupped your cheek with one of his hands, his fingers entangling with the hair on your nape while his thumb traced your lips “It’s a shame we waited this long… If you only knew all the ways I’ve had you in my mind…”

His husky voice sent your shivers straight to your pussy at his confession, and you wanted nothing but to have at least a sneak peak of what he’d had in his head. If only he could know what’s been to yours as well.

“Well now I can’t seem to understand why are you taking so long to show me?”

“Is there someone in a hurry?”

“Since I have a flight in the morning…” His hand slid down to your neck, choking you.

“And who says you’re getting into that plane tomorrow?” You couldn’t help but to moan when he tightened his hand around your neck just enough to make you melt into his grip “Let’s get out of here”

He let go of your neck and grabbed your hand, guiding you upstairs towards his bedroom. You stood in the middle of his room waiting for his next step as he locked the door behind him, the predatory gaze sending shivers down your spine as he checked you out once again.

“You are so fucking beautiful”

You couldn’t help but to blush at his confession as he stood in front of you, both hands cupping your face, admiring your delicate features.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since the first day I laid my eyes on you” He licked his lips, his eyes shifting from your lips to your eyes.

“Fucking kiss me, Noah”

“Thought you’d never ask”

He crashed his lips against yours and you felt your body going limp in his arms as he deepened the kiss. You let your fingers trail their way through his dark soft hair as his tongue explored yours, devouring you. He kissed you passionately and his hands roamed free over your body, you nibbled his lower lip and he pulled your hips closer, making sure you’d feel how hard he already was, pressing against your belly.

“If you don’t tell me to stop now, I won’t” He gasped, his restraint holding on by a thread.

“Who says I want you to stop?” Your hands slid down his chest to the hem of his shirt “I want your everything” You pulled his shirt upwards and he took the cue to help you take it off.

Your fingertips traced the tattoos on his body in admiration, every inch of him pure perfection in your eyes.

He kissed you again and guided you backwards to his bed, making your body collapse on it just as you felt your calves hitting its edge. Noah hovered over you, the thin chain around his neck dangling over you, almost touching your face as his hand ran up the side of your body from your outer thigh.

When he reached your ribcage, his fingers changed their path to the middle of your chest, to the zipper of your crop top, and you held your breath as he opened it slowly, eyes trained on you as the leather piece slowly slid off your breasts revealing them to him, nipples hard and sensitive on his full disposal.

“Fucking amazing”

Your lips met once more as he splayed one of his hands on one of your boobs, fondling it and pitching your nipple between his tattooed fingers. His body stood between your legs and you whimpered when he rubbed his clothed manhood against your aching center, covered only by helplessly damp lace panties.

His lips trailed kisses down your jaw towards your neck, where he now, very aware of your sensitivity in that area, covered your skin in with kisses and angry love-bites, clearly intending on marking you as his.

Your manicured nails ran up his back as his lips now peppered kisses down your clavicles to your chest, his mouth immediately latching on one of your breasts, suckling and nibbling your nipple, to then soothe the small sting with the softness of his tongue before switching his attention to the other.

You arched your back, legs spreading wider apart as you surrender yourself completely to his mercy, small cries of pleasure escaping your lips as you watched him, mouth and hands full of your boobs, the ache between your legs almost unbearable as you desperately needed him there, filling you.

“Noah please…” You pleaded as your legs tried to pull his hips to grind against you with no avail.

His voice was raw, deep and filled with lust: “Please what?” 

He teased, lips now traveling lower on your body, stopping only to give him enough room to take both your skirt and panties at once, throwing it randomly in his room.

“I need you to tell me what you want babe” He nibbled the skin right below your navel, and the realization of how close he was to your intimacy sent stronger shivers over your body as he kissed your inner thighs “Fuck you’re dripping”

“I need you inside me, please” You whined as his lips got closer to your hot center, his eyes admiring how glistening wet you already were for him before he blew his breath on you, making you quiver at the sensitivity.

“I will princess, but I need to taste you first”

Noah spread your legs wider apart and his tongue ran flat over your pussy, collecting and tasting all the arousal he could get, moaning against you as he finally got to taste you. His skilled tongue on your clit got you seeing stars in seconds as he worked on building your orgasm, and you prayed the music downstairs was loud enough to keep the rest of the party from hearing you, because you just couldn’t hold yourself back.

“You taste so fucking good”

Noah ate you like a starved man, feasting on you, taking pleasure in watching the sexed expressions on your face and how you helplessly writhed below him. He added a finger inside you as he kept working on you with his mouth, his long finger immediately finding the magic spongy spot inside you that made your legs shake around his neck as the pleasure knot forming on your lower belly threatened to explode violently at any second.

You tried to hold it back for as long as you could, but when he combined the work on your clit with his tongue along with a precise flick of his wrist, he forced the orgasm out of you in strong white hot waves of ecstasy, making you lose your senses for a few seconds as he rode your high.

Yet Noah didn’t stop.

Still eating you, he held you firmly and flipped you both on the bed, making you sit on his face. Your faltering legs threatened your balance, but his firm grip kept you up straight. 

You looked below you and the scene alone almost made you cum again. The pussy-drunk look on his face, the disheveled hair, the way half of his face was covered in your slick, dark eyes glossy as he looked up meeting yours as he kept lapping, sucking, overstimulating you on purpose.

“Oh my fuck N-Noah…” 

“Fuck my face babe” 

He growled against you, fingers sinking on your ass cheeks as you, still shaky, followed his command and started to roll your hips back and forth, allowing you to control the pace, the pressure, and to use his face on your own will.

You felt your climax blossoming inside you again as he kept devouring you, drinking in every drop he could take from you, his nose rubbing against your clit while he fucked you with his tongue. 

“Oh fuck… Noah…” Your orgasm bubbled up inside you again, but you were not ready for it yet, you were sure you’d collapse on top of him if he gave you another one in such a short time.

As if reading your thoughts Noah stopped, keeping you from falling apart so soon, but on the other hand edging you as you were so close to jumping off that cliff again.

You got off of his face and moved down his body to remove his pants and underwear, hurried, dying to feel him. He propped himself on his elbows and watched you undress him with shaky hands, the fucked out expression on your face making him want more of you.

Your jaw dropped when his cock sprung free, rock hard against his belly, head glistening with precum, the size and thickness doing justice to his height, and your throat went dry to the thinking of how he would feel inside you, stretching you.

“It’s all yours” He grinned, watching you admire him.

You straddled and pulled him up to kiss you and your taste still lingered on his tongue. His arms wrapped around your back and waist bringing you closer, and you took the cue to rock yourself against his shaft, coating it with your arousal, mixing it with his precum, the friction making him groan against your lips.

You pulled his hair, tilting his head back exposing his neck, and attacked it with your lips and tongue, all while you now teased the head of his cock with your opening, pretending you’d finally let him in, threatening to finally join your bodies, but skipping it every time, his digits digging on your flesh with his impatiency.

“You’re gonna make me beg for it now?” He peppered kisses on your chest and collarbone.

“You tell me… You want it that bad?” You whispered in his ear and nibbled on his earlobe.

That’s until he took control over you again and held your hips in place, lining himself with your entrance, all while he pulled you by your hair with his free hand, pulling you away from his neck, making you look at him, eyes so dark with lust and oozing such a primal desire you felt like prey.

“I do” 

He caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“Now eyes on me” 

He instructed and you immediately obeyed. With one of his hands still on the back of your head and the other on your hip, the tip of his cock met your pussy and Noah pressed you down on him, merging your bodies slowly. His name came out of your lips in such a sinful pitch that made him throb inside you, the vision and the feeling of you, flesh and bone, being endlessly better than he could’ve ever imagined.

Your arms snaked around his neck as he bottomed you out, you felt so full and stretched, your whole body was on fire, ignited with desire, and when you got used to his size you started to move on top of him, slowly increasing your pace as you rode him, stealing grunts of pleasure out of him every time you intentionally clenched around him and fucked him harder, your skin slapping against his as his fingers dug into your thighs.

He was so lost in his own moment he didn’t know if he should look at where your bodies merged, at your boobs bouncing in front of his face or at your sex glazed eyes. His lips captured yours once again as you rocked your hips back and forth, that very specific motion almost making you both snap.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum” 

He whined and rolled you both, laying you on the bed as he got on top of you, switching positions so he could last longer, to feel you longer, to fuck you longer. He pushed himself inside of you again and all at once, at the new depth he reached with that position turned you into a moaning mess as he now set his own pace, but making sure that with every thrust he stimulated that very spot he found earlier inside you.

“Noah oh my…” 

You couldn’t finish your sentence as that postponed orgasm emerged again like a tsunami, washing away all of your senses as it bursted from inside out, hard, making your pussy clench desperately around him as he rode your high, taking every bit of his restraint to ride you through it without unloading inside you, cock throbbing in need, and just as he felt your body becoming jelly under his he pulled out of you, cumming on your belly in long hot spurts as he stilled over you, cheeks red and eyes rolled back.

He glued his forehead on yours, breathing still heavy as he came back from his own high, admiring how impossibly beautiful you looked at that very moment.

“There’s no fucking way I’m letting you into that plane tomorrow”

[operationladybug]

What were your favorite wintertime activities as a child? What upcoming holidays do you celebrate? How do you celebrate? ❄️ Reblog and share in the tags.

“Hi. Please take a moment to read this. I am writing a post on behalf of @suad-khaled whose fundraiser has been stagnating and has only reached 50% despite her fundraising for several months. Suad has been verified by @/nabulsi and also by @northgazaupdates, you can read more about her and her struggles in the tag here.

Suad is an engineer who after graduating with top marks was also working as a university lecturer in her university. Just before the October 7th's accelerated genocide, she also found she was pregnant and was ready to also start this new chapter of her life.

Since the genocide, she and her husband have been displaced multiple times, escaping bombing narrowly in the process. In June she gave birth to baby Khaled and then immediately had to move to a tent with him. Suad and her baby both have been sick this year and her infant has suffered from malnutrition and chest infections in the first year of his life. The doctor recommended nebulising sessions for baby Khaled because of his chest infection and allergies which also ate into the family's limited funds.

Right now, despite facing constant hunger Suad is deeply worried about being able to afford diapers and formula for Khaled. Prices have quadrupled; a pack of 36 diapers now costs $50, and a can of formula is $13. Buying cheaper formula caused baby Khaled's health to worsen. This is also baby Khaled's first winter and he needs winter clothes.

Please, please support Suad and baby Khaled and help their fundraiser reach completion so that they are able to survive and evacuate from Gaza.”

(Thank you for the help with creating this post! I did not have the brain energy to come up with the right words, so this was written by a friend of a friend.)

💙 Reblog, Queue, Share 💙

Tagging for reach under the cut:

@sliceofdyke @littlegermanboy @g00ngala @grillwizard @graciouswings @sillymeter @palestine-donation-links @palestinegenocide @palestine-info-uncensored @gazavetters @gaza-evacuation-funds @zhuiren @weltenwellen @xinakwans @egberts @kropotkindersurprise @niqabisinparis @pukicho @paper-mario-wiki @queenie-says-free-palestine @tamamita @ultimatedirk @astrolavas @atalienart @bob-belcher @beebeedibapbeediboop @botan @buggachat @bi-trans-alliance @cassandrajean @creativepromptsforwriting @crimson-chains @colormush @drawingden @daily-prompts @design-art-architecture @develop-your-oc @discount-supervillain @evermore-fashion @enenkaydoodles @eliotbaum @elasticitymudflap @fyblackwomenart @fannyrosie @fuckyeahgravityfalls @filmgifs @greelin @gawki @ghiblisdaily • Sorry to be a bother!

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[anesidore]

UPDATE 12/04: thank you so much for the support! i'll be closing donation channels now, as we have reached our goal. i really do appreciate the support!

i will be keeping the original post through a read more below for posterity.

hi everyone! i know i have a relatively small following but i wanted to take a chance to ask for help anyway.

my beloved cat alphinaud (alphy for short, alby if you're being cute) was a naughty boy and decided to go outside a few days ago (he's been an indoor cat all his life) and got into a fight with a stray, which led to a wound with an abscess above his right eye. on top of this, he has been struggling with urinary tract infection for the last year and the crystals in his bladder unfortunately flared up once more, so the vet recommended him to be confined at the clinic for the next few days as he undergoes testing.

so far our expenses has been PHP 23,600 (around USD 400) for all the tests he went through as well as the confinement fee, and i expect it to cost more as he stays in the vet for confinement. luckily i cobbled together enough money to pay for the 11.8k PHP downpayment for today, but i don't have any money left after that expense. i will be adding the receipt from the 50% downpayment under the read more below as proof of these expenses.

i hate to ask for help from strangers again, as i have already done so last year when his uti was first diagnosed. unfortunately i'm quite literally at the end of my rope here. i've recently lost my dad last month, which took quite a toll on me financially (and of course, emotionally) because of funeral expenses and the medical bill that we're still paying off.

my friends can attest that i don't really make a habit of asking for help even when i desperately need it, but i really can't lose another member of our family so soon after we lost my dad who i loved with all my heart. i hope whoever reads this finds it in their heart to understand where i'm coming from here, but thank you for reading up to this point despite how long it has gotten.

if you're willing to help, you can send donations at paypal.me/amunetis or if you are from the philippines like i am, you may send your donation through my gcash at 09175252352.

i will also be prepping a commissions post soon in case anyone is interested, if you need examples you can find it here in this link. i'll be updating this post when i'm done with preparations.

again, thank you so much for reading through this all. if you are unable to help financially, i would greatly appreciate sharing/spreading the word through reblogs or maybe even sharing this post through other sns like twitter or bsky.

^ 50% downpayment receipt that i paid today. i can also provide pictures of his test results and other things if needed as proof.

have another pic of alby as thanks for checking!

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Something you’ll never know

synopsis: you and aeri were inseparable while you were growing up. Is that connection still there?

word count: 15k (jeeez) (it could've been 3 parts but I love you all so much so here you are)

cw: angst, cussing, drinking, f reader, childhood best friends to...(?) idk if there's any i missed please lmk!

notes! So sorry if its a confusing read with the timelines and such. the italic paragraphs are flashbacks/memories! for clarification Aeri and reader are ages 12, 22, and then 30 in this. It's inspired by the movie Past Lives (one of my fav movies, I recommend it!) barely proofread again, I also tried to add extra space in between different scenes, I hope it flows okay!

This is my first angsty fic ever but I had a lot of fun writing it! I really hope you enjoy it and if you'd like to, lmk your thoughts!!

as always dms and asks are always open!

xoxo love youuu (: <3

20 years ago in Southern California,  SM Elementary School

Ever since you can remember, Aeri Uchinaga has been a constant presence in your life. You first met in preschool, where she quickly took a liking to you for reasons you couldn't quite understand. As a ‘slow-to-warm-up’ child, you were perfectly fine with doing quiet activities on your own while your classmates ran around, chatting amongst themselves. But Aeri must have seen you as a challenge or a game, maybe? She was determined to crack the ice and see what lay beneath your quiet exterior. She would always join you at the drawing table and start rambling about a variety of things that crossed her mind or even go as far as sharing her stuffed animals with you when she saw you playing ‘family’ alone with your own.

And before you knew it, she had you hooked. Aeri was more outspoken than you at the time, and she often took the reins in your friendship, but you were (more than) happy to follow her lead. You quickly learned that she had a habit of charging in head first, and it became your unspoken mission to keep her from getting into too much trouble.

You promised yourself that you'd always be there supporting her from behind.

You dribbled the soccer ball skillfully toward the goal, weaving through defenders with ease. Just as you were about to score, a loud yelp from the basketball court made you stop dead in your tracks. Your hesitation cost you as a player from the opposing team slid in, tackling you. Pain shot through your leg as your planted foot twisted in a way that it should NOT twist.

You got up from the ground and ignored the pain as you waved to a classmate on the sideline to take your place on the field. You limped as quickly as you could toward the court from the field, fighting back tears. The adrenaline kept you moving.

Eventually you made it to the basketball court where Aeri was.

“Are you okay?” you asked as you reached a hurt Aeri, who was hissing slightly at the sight of her skinned knee. Almost every ounce of pain washed away when you saw her.

She looked up, surprised, as your shadow blocked the sun. To her, you probably looked like an angel.

“Y/n,” she sniffled, “Where did you come from?”

“I was just playing soccer,” you replied, kneeling in front of her and offering your back. “Here, hop on. Let’s get you to the nurse.”

“Mm~ okay,” Aeri shyly mumbled as she climbed onto your back, resting her chin in the crook of your neck as you hobbled toward the infirmary.

“How did you know I was hurt?” she inquired softly.

“I dunno, my Aeri instincts must've kicked in... But you do have a pretty distinctive scream that I could hear all the way from the soccer field” You chuckled

“Ah~! What!? That’s so embarrassing!” She buried her face into your neck. “Why did you come over? You said you were playing soccer?”

“Well yeah I was, but remember when we were five and had our first sleepover?” you asked, chuckling. “Ya know, the one where you couldn’t stop crying because you missed your parents, especially your mom.”

“Hey! Why bring that up now?” she groaned, playfully hitting your back with her fists. “It wasn’t my choice! My parents were busy with work, okay!”

“Nono~ we made a pinky promise, remember? I told you, ‘I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.’ And I vaguely remember claiming I’d be your prince or somethin' like that.. I’m just keeping my word.” You smiled at the memory.

“That was like seven years ago…I can't believe you even remember that” she sighed contentedly. “Well, thank you, my prince.” she let out a teasing chuckle

“Of course, Lady Aeri,” you replied in a playful, formal tone, adjusting her higher on your back with a little hop.

There was a small break of silence before Aeri took notice of the cadence of your steps.

“...Wait, are you limping?” Her tone suddenly turned serious, like a mother about to scold her child.

“Uh…” You hesitated, “No…?” you chuckled nervously hoping she'd drop the topic (she didn't).

She peeked over your shoulder and saw your left ankle, red and beginning to swell.

“Ah~! What happened!? Let me down, I can walk! You idiot!” she exclaimed, trying to wriggle off your back.

“No way! We’re almost there anyways, and all this wiggling isn’t helping the pain either!” you bickered with the girl on your back before finally reaching the school entrance.

After school, your mom tended to your hurt ankle. It wasn’t anything serious, just a mild sprain. You worked silently on your assignment before she spoke up.

“Y/n, honey~” your mom cooed before sitting down next to you at the kitchen table while you were doing homework. “What do you think about Aeri? Do you like her?”

“Hmm,” You hummed while  placing your pencil down as memories of her flooded your mind.

One specific memory came to the forefront of your mind,

You and Aeri were laying in the lush grass together with your heads touching and holding hands.

“Aeri, look!” You pointed to the sky “I see a shark.. Or maybe a really  big tuna?” a playful giggle escaped your lips 

“Mhm~!” she agreed, “Look over there! Doesn’t that look like Haku from Spirited Away?” Aeri’s eyes widened in excitement as her favorite character appeared in the sky, her finger excitedly pointing 

“Yeah! I think it does!” You stole a glance of her. 

Her eyes were glued to the blue sky adorned with fluffy white clouds that looked like they felt like cotton candy. The sun reflected against her dark brown hair and made it look like a beautiful dark ocean rippling in the wind

It was a cool summer day. A gentle breeze wafted her scent of strawberry shampoo and a light rose scent from her deodorant. The sky stretched over both of you like a blue canvas with puffy cotton balls. The warmth of the sunshine wrapped the two of you into an embrace only you both could feel.

 You stared at her with so much… happiness? While she pointed out various shapes, her face lit up more and more each time she spotted one

“What is this feeling?” You thought “It feels like i’m going down a steep slope of a rollercoaster when I’m around her”

“Hm~ Y/n? Is there something on my face? Did you hear me?” She briefly stopped her tangent when she felt a soft gaze.

“Oh~! No sorry,” You giggled

“I- just” you began barely above a whisper

“Wow, look!” Aeri unknowingly cut you off “Those ones look like two hearts about to mash together” she exclaimed giddily

Your gaze went back to the clouds and you paused  for a few seconds causing Aeri to look at you

“Were you gonna say something?” She mumbled and you met her eyes

“I’m just.. Really happy right now!” you said, unable to verbalize the feelings you were having.

“I like her” you replied to your mom

“Ohh~”She nodded in response before genuinely inquiring “Why?” 

“Well… She said I’m like her prince” she responded to her mother so nonchalantly and innocently

“Her prince?”

“Mhm, I think i’ll marry her one day” You smiled before picking up your pencil again-- completely unphased.

“Mm~ I see, I see. Well Y/n, does she want to marry you, too?” 

“I don't know if she likes me too, but if she does I know she'll say when we’re ready!” She smiled brightly at her mom 

“Ah okay~ When did you grow up my sweet daughter?” Your mom lightly pinched your cheek which caused you to giggle. “Well, I was on the phone with her mom earlier... Do you want to go on a date with her?"

Of course you excitedly nodded your head in agreement

You and Aeri stepped into the park, nature wrapped around you two like a comforting hug. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves left a playful pattern of light and shadows on the ground below. While birds chirped happily overhead, their songs blending with the soft rustle of leaves, creating a soothing melody that seemed to dance through the air. Both of your mom’s made their way to a nearby spot to watch you both 

“Aeri! Let’s go” You said as you grabbed her free hand 

“Oh~ Ma, can you hold these?” Aeri swiftly passed the small bouquet of flowers you had bought her to her mother before being whisked away by your eager pull

“Oh!”  was all Mrs.Uchinaga could get out before the two of you ran off exploring the park. She couldn’t contain her laughter and began to take a digital camera out of her purse.

“They look good together, so happy huh?” Your mom glanced at Mrs.Uchinaga as she was snapping a picture of the two of you running hand in hand in the luscious green field. 

“Yeah~ Aeri talks about Y/n a lot. She says she wants to marry her one day” Her mom let out an astonished laugh “When did our girls grow up?

“That’s exactly what Y/n said! “ She laughed, “We can’t be too surprised right?

"Ah~ I guess not." Aeri's mom began, "Remember that time we kept Y/n overnight once and Aeri was crying uncontrollably and then suddenly stopped? My god, it was so scary! I thought something had happened to her but when I checked the baby monitor, Y/n snuck out of her own crib and into Aeri’s! And then they fell asleep like that!” She laughed with a tinge of nostalgic sadness 

“Ahh~ They were about two and a half years old huh? Oh~! Remember that time I told you when I put them in charge of her brother while I was making them lunch and when I walked back into the living room and found all of them asleep on the couch with Kosei in between them! It was so cute~!” Your mom smiled brightly “I have the photo somewhere still!” 

Both you parents sighed contentedly, reminiscing on you two. After a bit of comfortable silence, you mom spoke up

“My Y/n cares about Aeri a lot. I can see she does too, it puts my heart at ease to know my daughter has someone who cares so deeply about her.” Your mom’s eyes began to get a bit watery

Mrs. Uchinaga placed her hand reassuringly over hers, a warm smile gracing her lips. "She's a smart girl—you shouldn’t worry too much. I'm forever grateful she's been in my Aeri's life. Look at them," she pointed affectionately at the two of you, nestled under the low-hanging branches of the weeping willow tree.

"Aeri! This is where we can take our shoes off," you exclaimed, gently parting the "curtain" of leaves as if entering a secret world.

Your imagination ran wild, the simple weeping willow tree transformed into a spacious apartment in a bustling city.

"And here is where our dining room is," Aeri chimed in, moving to the large stones and pretending they were seats. "Here, sit. Let me get you a coffee, honey," she playfully immersed herself in the game of house.

Aeri returned with a hollowed out rock with a stick in it, “Here’s your coffee!”

You pretend slurped through the stick straw, “This is soo~ delicious” and you fake slurped more causing both of you to giggle

“Hey, Aeri” you placed the rock coffee cup down and Aeri joined you at the “dining table”

“Where do you wanna live when you grow up?” you met her gaze

“Mmm, definitely a city. I want my fashion business to be very popular!” She flashed a cheerful thumbs up “What about you?”

“Mm..” You looked down, shyly contemplating

“Are you getting shy?!” She gently nudged your shoulder teasing you

“Nono~!” You waved your hands in defense while a smile appeared on your face “Hm.. I guess wherever you go?”

While you and Aeri played house, imagining your future together, your parents sat nearby on the park bench in comfortable silence, smiling as they watched the two of you. A gentle breeze drifted through, rustling the leaves and carrying the scent of blooming flowers through the air, adding to the peaceful moment.

“We’re moving soon,” Aeri’s mom finally said, breaking the quiet. Which explained why she asked to take them on a 'date'

Your mom didn’t respond right away, her gaze still on you and Aeri. After a few more beats, she spoke, doing her best to mask her emotions. “Oh… where?”

“South Korea,” Aeri’s mom replied softly.

Your mom paused, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. “Why leave everything behind?”

“There are better opportunities ahead than the ones we’ll leave behind,” Aeri’s mom answered with a quiet sigh, as if trying to convince herself as much as anyone else.

Later, on the car ride home, you and Aeri had both fallen asleep in the backseat, your hands still clasped together, oblivious to the change that was coming. Your mom glanced back at the two of you and with a bittersweet smile, she snapped a quick photo.

Neither of you knew how much your lives would change in the next few weeks.

You sat at your desk, your gaze unfocused as you stared blankly ahead, lost in a haze of thoughts that swirled around you like fog. Aeri’s voice cut through the noise, her laughter ringing out as she animatedly chatted with her friends nearby. Her vibrant energy filled the room, lighting up the space, yet somehow, it made the gap between you two feel even wider. You were in the same room, but it felt like you were worlds apart—both of you in your own little world.

"You're leaving?" one of her friends exclaimed, disbelief in her voice.

"Yeah!" Aeri replied, her excitement unmistakable.

"Never coming back?" another girl pressed, curiosity laced her voice.

"I don’t think so!" Aeri laughed, her tone light, almost carefree.

"What?! Why not!?" the girl pushed further, as if she couldn’t fathom the idea.

"Well.. I could never become a fashion designer here!" Aeri giggled, like her answer was obvious… like she wasn’t about to leave behind everything you had known together.

After school, you found yourself walking past Aeri as she waved her friends goodbye. Her cheerful farewell echoed behind you as you caught a glimpse of her. Her smile was as bright as ever, but for the first time, it felt distant—like it no longer belonged to you.

"Oh, bye!" she called out to her friends, her voice cheerful before turning her attention to you. 

"Wait up!" she hurried to catch up with your steps.

You slowed down slightly, but something in you hesitated.

"Oh, sorry," you murmured.

She quickly caught up and the two of you began the familiar walk home, the silence between you felt heavier than ever. Aeri seemed comfortable, at ease with the quiet, but for you, the weight in your chest grew with every step. Even though she was right beside you, it felt like she was already slipping away—like an invisible wall was growing between you, expanding with each moment.

It was disorienting, jarring even, to think that after today, she wouldn’t be walking next to you every day like she had since kindergarten. Each footstep echoed what was coming, and despite the comfort of routine, the reality of her departure pressed down on you, suffocating the words you wanted to say but couldn’t find.

The world around continued its hustle and bustle, completely indifferent to the storm brewing in your heart. Cars rushed by, bikes whizzed past, and people hurried along the sidewalk, insensitive to the internal chaos you were grappling with.

Every emotion flooded through you, leaving you drowning in a mix of sadness and anger. Each step felt trudging through quicksand as if your feet had been stuck in concrete. Your body was subconsciously pulling you away from your house to prolong your inevitable separation– like a dog who doesn’t want their walk to be over yet.

As you reached the fork in the road that diverged toward your respective houses, a heavy cloud hung above your head, thick with everything you wanted to say.

"Bye, n/n," Aeri's voice carried a tinge of melancholy as she began to walk away, her figure receding into the distance.

You paused, unable to tear your gaze away from her retreating form.

Every memory you’ve shared with her played in your head like a movie montage.

“C’mon Aeri, don’t be scared! I’m right here with you!” You aggressively whispered while carrying a bag of snacks and a blanket, trying to convince Aeri onto the roof of your house

“What if we get in trouble? What if we get locked out and we’re stuck here forever!” Aeri said to you from inside through the opened window 

“My parents know I do this, it’s a flat surface so you have to be a real dummy to slip off! And don’t worry, it only locks from the inside and if you’re scared you can just hold onto me!” You reached out your hand to Aeri

She couldn't help but smile, your own reassuring grin reflecting back at her. She warmly accepted your hand, her breath hitched when your hands made contact.

“O-oh thanks, let’s place the blanket down!” Aeri was glad it was dark because she was sure her face was the same shade as a tomato!

"Not too shabby, huh?" You chuckled lightly, settling onto the soft surface and patting the spot beside you, inviting her to join you.

It was a warm summer night. A gentle breeze wafted your scent of shampoo and a cologne-y scent from your deodorant. The sky stretched over both of you like a dark blue canvas with twinkling stars. The warmth of the evening wrapped the two of you into an embrace only you both could feel.

You felt her staring at you while you pointed out various constellations, your face lit up more and more each time you spotted one

“Hm, Aeri? Did you hear me?” You briefly stopped your tangent when you felt a soft gaze on you

“Oh~! No sorry,” Aeri giggled “What did you say?”

You scooted closer so your head was touching hers, “See those stars over there? It’s kinda like a weird looking 7?” You extended your arm while pointing, trying your best to point out three out of the millions of stars in the sky

“Hm.. oh! Yes!”

“That’s me! And your birthday is October 30 making you a Scorpio! and hmm” You began to move your pointer finger to search in the sky

“Ah! There! You see that pattern that kind of looks like a snake with claws?”

“Yeah~ I actually do!” Aeri giggled as her imagination took over

“Well, Aeri if you ever feel sad or something and I’m not with you for some reason ” You chuckled sweetly. “I just want you to know that we’re always together in the sky!” You both turned to meet each other’s gaze at the same time 

“Well I don’t think we’ll ever get separated, I want to be with you forever!” She innocently beamed which caused you both to giggle 

“Me too Aeri!”

After a few hesitant moments, you found your voice, though it felt as if your heart might stop with the effort.

“Aeri,” you called out softly, the word heavy with all the feelings you had kept buried for so long.

“Mm?” She turned to face you, her expression softening when her eyes met yours, and the cheerful energy from earlier was nowhere to be found.

“I.. I like you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly, but you held her gaze, resisting the urge to look away. You felt as though you might crumble, but you forced yourself to keep going. “I’m glad we spent our childhood.. together.”

Her smile faltered, shifting into something sadder, something that you couldn't understand. She didn’t respond immediately, as if the words you’d just said had stolen her breath, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. She was at a loss for words and the silence stretched endlessly between you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately to maintain your composure. “Bye… Aeri,” you added softly, your voice cracking ever so slightly as you turned away towards your house, trying to put on a brave face.

You couldn’t bear to see the sadness in her eyes any longer. Tears threatened to spill, but you fought them back, willing yourself to hold on just a little longer.

“Bye..” she faintly whispered out

The moment you started walking toward your house, your chest tightened. Tears streamed down your face as the weight of the world as you knew it came crashing down.

What you'll never know and what you couldn’t see, was that Aeri began crying too.

About 10 years later, you sat at your desk in your cozy apartment room at UCLA, the late afternoon sun casting soft rays across the scattered textbooks and notes. With a sigh, you pushed some papers aside to rest your elbow on the desk, propping your chin on your hand.

“How the actual fuck do I even solve this?” you muttered to yourself, staring at the confusing statistics problem on your laptop. After a moment of frustration, you searched for a tutorial on YouTube, hoping for a miracle.

As you scrolled through the list of videos, you could hear your roommate Yunjin bustling around in the kitchen.

“Jennie-poo~!” you called out, leaning back in your chair. “Can you come here?”

A few seconds later, you heard your door creak open. "Huh?" came Yunjin's voice, her (dyed) red hair poking around the doorframe as she stepped inside.

“Do you have any idea how to solve this?” you asked, switching your browser back to the page filled with complex formulas. You pointed at the screen. “I seriously have no clue what they’re even fucking asking”

Yunjin leaned down, squinting at the problem for a moment before laughing. “Yeah, I’m gonna be honest with you—zero clue. You’re so fucked,” she said, still giggling.

Yunjin, aka Jennifer, was from upstate New York, and the two of you had been roommates for four years. It felt like fate sometimes—being assigned to live together your freshman year was totally random, but she was practically you in a different form.

“You’re absolutely no help,” you groaned, laughing a little despite yourself as you buried your face in your hands.

“You’re so welcome,” she said, patting your head playfully. “I’m gonna make some jjajangmyeon, do you want any?”

“Not right now. Maybe save some for me later? I gotta finish this shit” you replied, sitting back up and stretching.

“Yeah, of course. Good luck!” Yunjin said with a wink as she left your room.

You sighed deeply as you turned back to your YouTube tab, clicking on a video tutorial. As fucking expected, an ad began to play—one of those painfully long ones you couldn’t skip.

“Do you want to be a model? Do you think you have what it takes?”

The words faded into the background as your mind started to wander, pulled back by an unexpected memory.

Aeri.

It had been so long since you’d allowed yourself to think about her. Years, even. But something about the mention of fashion, pulled you back into the past. The past where she lived, where her dreams had once shone so brightly.

Aeri had always talked about becoming a fashion designer—about where she'd live and make a name for herself. You could still picture her so clearly, sitting beside you, messily sketching her ideas in her notebooks. Dresses, bags, runway looks… She used to tell you all about it, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“I could never become a designer here,” she’d said once, laughing. She was always so sure of her path. Always ready to go after her dreams, no matter the cost.

She may have been right

Suddenly, the thought of her became overwhelming. You couldn’t help but wonder what had become of that dream. Did she make it? Was she in South Korea, living the life she’d always wanted? Or had things turned out differently?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as your mind drifted back to the memory of her laughter and the way she’d talked about her plans with ABSOLUTE certainty.

Without thinking, you opened a new tab. You hesitated for a moment, a tightness in your chest returning. 

A memory flashed into your mind to when you were having a sleepover with her

“Y/n…” Aeri’s voice came softly from the left side of your bed, sadness creeping into her usual playful tone.

“Mm? What’s wrong?” you asked, glancing over at her.

“I wish you wanted to be a model,” she pouted. “Then you could try on the clothes I design.”

You laughed softly. “I mean, I still could... Why are you thinking about that now?”

“Well, obviously I want to be a designer! SO of course I want you to be the first person to wear the clothes I make,” she beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

The video kept playing and the math tutorial began playing. 

Why the hell am I thinking about that now? It’s been like 10 years?

 Aeri Uchinaga…

You leaned back in your chair and positioned your head towards the ceiling

What are you up to…

With a sigh, you slingshotted forward and opened Facebook and began to search.

After an hour of searching, you finally found a lead—her father’s company page. It was a bit tedious to find her or her family, considering they lived in a completely different country.

“Hi, I’m looking for my childhood best friend, Aeri Uchinaga . Please let me know how I can contact her.”

And with that, you posted the message and, for the first time in hours, tried to return to your homework.

A few weeks later, on the complete opposite side of the world at 5:30 PM in Seoul...

Aeri sat in her dorm, the warm afternoon sunlight streaming through the window as she lounged on her bed, phone pressed to her ear, laptop resting in her lap.

“Ne~ umma, remember Xinyi? She plays basketball in college now!” Aeri said with a smile, scrolling through Facebook while chatting with her mother.

“Wow~! I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Uchinaga replied with a chuckle on the other end. “She was always knocking on our door, asking you to play.”

Aeri laughed lightly. “Yeah, even though I was pretty bad. She tried so hard to teach me, but I was just ass”

“It’s okay, darling. Sports weren’t really your thing,” her mother comforted warmly.

Aeri absentmindedly scrolled through her feed, clicking on old profiles and updates from people she hadn’t thought about in years.

“Who else should we look up?” She asked her mom.

Aeri paused, a small smile creeping onto her lips. “Who’s the one I had a huge crush on?”

“Y/n L/n” they both said at the same time, sharing a laugh.

Aeri’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, and she began typing your name, curiosity piqued as she searched for her old crush. As she clicked through posts, she suddenly froze.

“Umma! This is crazy!” Aeri exclaimed, her voice full of shock. “She posted on dad’s Facebook page a few weeks ago looking for me!”

“Oh wow really? Well~ I’m not too surprised, Aeri. She really liked you!” her mom replied, her voice filled with warmth.

“I’m looking for my childhood best friend, Aeri Uchinaga ...” Aeri read aloud to her mom as her eyes scanned the message.

Aeri’s heart raced as she scrolled through your profile. Even though your hair was longer and your features were more defined, the essence of you—the same joyful glint in your eyes—hadn’t changed at all. It was as if time hadn’t erased any part of the person she remembered so vividly.

“Umma, I’ll call you back,” Aeri said quickly, cutting her mom off as she reassured her with a chuckle, “Yes! I promise I’m eating well!”

She ended the call with a smile, but her pulse quickened as she stared at the screen. Her eyes scanned the message again and again, as if reading your name over and over would somehow make this more real.

“Ahh~” Aeri inhaled deeply, her fingers trembling slightly as she sent you a friend request and began typing a message to you.

“Y/n! It’s Aeri, you remember me?”

It was 1:30 AM in your on-campus apartment in LA when your phone buzzed, receiving the new message.

“Fuck her! She doesn’t deserve you! You’re like… sooo out of her league,” Yuna mumbled to your other friend, Ryujin, as she poured another shot for her.

“Right?” Ryujin sighed before pausing to take the shot. “I just don’t know why I miss her… so much,” she grimaced as the alcohol hit the back of her throat.

“Ryu, you should have some water,” you slurred, hiccuping as you passed her your water bottle.

“Y/nn~ how about you drink some water,” your roommate Yunjin chimed in, giggling as she slumped over on the couch.

The four of you sat in the living room, post-gaming the bar, waiting for your DoorDash to arrive. Ryujin rested her head in your lap, and without thinking, you rubbed her back to comfort her.

You took a long gulp of water with a satisfied “Ah~” before reaching for your beer.

“Wellll~ Beer is basically water. You should have some too Jennie-poo! It isn’t a post-game if we don’t drink till we die,” you exclaimed, taking a sip from the can.

“UGH~” Ryujin groaned, deadpanning, “I want to die~”

“Girl, she literally cheated on you and then wanted to be exclusive while she was fucking someone else—like, what?” Yuna added, deadpan.

That comment made all of you burst out laughing(she was right), even as Ryujin lightly punched Yuna in the arm.

“Hey~! Be niceeee~ Show some compassion!” Yunjin scolded, trying and failing to stifle her laughter.

You were still chuckling when your phone buzzed again in your pocket. Grabbing it, you blinked a couple of times, trying to focus your eyes on the notification.

Giselle?

Your vision was still a little too blurry to make sense of it.

"Hey!" Yunjin faked being cold

“You have a secret girlfriend or somethin'?” Yunjin teased, sounding just like a jealous girlfriend.

“Huh?” you responded, still distracted.

“Who’s messaging you at 1:30 in the morning? You have a sneaky link you’re not telling us about?” Yunjin continued, laughing.

Meanwhile, Ryujin was still moping in your lap. “Hey! Sensitive subject!” she groaned dramatically.

“Fuck if I know, I honestly have zero clue,” you mumbled, your words slurring as you stared at your phone before turning it off.

The next morning, you woke up in your bed with a slight headache. You groaned, rolling over to reach for your water bottle and chugged it like it was the last water on Earth.

The cold water worked its magic, refreshing you enough to (barely) function. You grabbed your phone from the charger and started scrolling through your notifications, still half-asleep. But then, one notification made you freeze—last night’s Facebook message.

You clicked on it, your grogginess instantly fading as your eyes widened in surprise. It was from none other than the girl who made you experience your first instance of love—Aeri Uchinaga.

“Giselle Uchinaga?” you muttered to yourself, reading her profile in disbelief.

That’s why you couldn’t find her!  It made complete sense now. Her features were more mature, but that familiar smile—the one that had always warmed your heart—was still there, lighting up her face in every picture. You couldn’t stop smiling as you scrolled through her photos.

Just then, Yunjin’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to reality.

“Y/n! Are you awake? I made avocado toast and eggs!” she announced from the other side of your door.

“Ahh~ okay, yeah, lemme pee and I’ll be out!” you called back, your voice still raspy from sleep.

You quickly splashed some water on your face and pulled on a pair of sweats and a hoodie before stepping out of your room.

“Good morning!” you chirped, only to be met with a synchronized groan from Yuna and Ryujin.

“How the fuck do you have this much energy? What puts you in such a good mood?” Yuna asked, holding an ice pack on her forehead.

“Hm?” you replied, walking over to your coffee cup on the table that Yunjin had filled for you. “Thank Jennie-poo! And nothing, I just don’t have a massive hangover like you two idiots—should’ve drank beer instead of taking shots”

As you sipped your coffee, your mind of course, drifted back to last night. That damn text from Aeri.

The two of you exchanged a few quick messages, exchanging numbers, and catching up briefly before settling on a time that worked best for both of you to video call. It felt surreal, reading Aeri’s replies after all these years—like time had somehow folded in on itself, bringing the past back into the present.

You found yourself staring at your phone, the FaceTime app open and ready, but your heart pounding in your chest. What if things had changed too much? What if she wasn’t the Aeri you remembered? What if you weren’t the person she expected? Your thoughts spiraled as you adjusted your hair for what felt like the tenth time.

It’s just a call, you reminded yourself. It’s just Aeri. You’ve known her before.

But even though you’d told yourself that a hundred times, the butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t settle. The phone buzzed in your hand as the screen lit up. Incoming FaceTime: Aeri Uchinaga.

You took a deep breath, your thumb hovering over the screen for a moment longer than it should have. Then, finally, you swiped to answer.

Aeri’s face appeared, pixelated for just a second before the connection stabilized. There she was. Her familiar eyes, her smile—the same, but different? You stared at each other for a beat, neither of you quite sure how to start.

Aeri broke the silence with a nervous laugh. “Wow.. it’s been so long. I almost forgot what you looked like!”

You smiled, feeling the same rush of emotions you hadn’t felt in years. “I know right? I wasn’t sure what to expect either. You look… different. In a good way, of course.” nervousness still present in your voice

“Same to you,” Aeri said, her voice softening as she studied your face. “It’s like, you’ve changed, but... not really, you know?”

You laughed, the tension beginning to ease. “Except now you’re Giselle, huh?”

Aeri grinned, rolling her eyes playfully. “Yeah, that’s a long story. But trust me, it’s still me. Aeri Uchinaga at heart.”

You both chuckled, the ice slowly breaking as the conversation started to feel more familiar. It was strange, seeing her face again like this after so many years—older, more mature, but still with that same smile.

“Soo.. You’re really out there becoming a designer, huh?” you teased, shaking your head with an incredulous smile. “It’s kind of wild thinking about you... you know, living in Korea and actually doing all the things you told me you would like years ago”

Aeri laughed, her tone warm but modest. “Don’t let social media fool you. I’m not as glamorous as it seems. I’m still the same girl who couldn’t shoot a basketball to save her life.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Oh god yeah! I remember! You were sooo bad. I thought for sure you were going to quit after that first fall.”

“Whatever! I literally was just trying to impress you,” she joked, her laugh lighting up the screen.

With each passing minute, the conversation felt easier. The laughter flowed naturally, memories of your childhood together resurfacing as if no time had passed at all.

“So... how have you been, really?” Aeri asked after a while, her tone more serious now. “I feel like I missed so much. of your life"

You nodded, the weight of the years between you sinking in. “Yeah, it feels strange, I feel the same too. I’ve been good, I guess. But seeing you like this… I dunno.. It feels like yesterday, you were just that little girl on the other side of the road from me.”

Aeri smiled, her expression softening. “Right? I don’t know, life is so weird sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And now, you’re the girl on my screen.”

As the night went on, you both talked about everything—your lives, your dreams, the things you had wanted to say but never got the chance to. It was like reconnecting with a part of yourself you thought you’d lost. By the end of the call, there was an unspoken understanding between you both. This wasn’t just a one-off conversation.

“So, let’s not wait another decade to do this again?” you said with a grin.

Aeri laughed. “Deal. Next time, I’ll tell you the full story behind ‘Giselle.’”

“I’m holding you to that, Aeri” you replied, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

And that’s how it was. For a few months, you both shared everything—your days, your worries, even the smallest details. You started waiting for her calls, looking forward to the time you’d spend talking. She was always there, her laughter filling your nights(and early mornings!), making you feel closer to her despite the distance.

It was almost as if you were in a relationship. The way she looked at you through the screen, the way your conversations lingered on hopes and what-ifs. You could almost imagine what it would be like to be with her again, for real.

You routinely called Aeri during your day. 

Hey,” you greeted with a smile as the screen connected.

“Hey,” Aeri chuckled softly on the other end.

“Is it 7:00 in the morning there? I thought you said you never wake up before 10:00,” you teased, noting how early it was for her.

“I don’t,” Aeri replied, a smile tugging at her lips. “But this was the only time that worked for you, right?”

“Well yeah but don’t you have class today?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeahh~” she admitted, “but it’s later~” sleepiness still evident in her voice

You couldn’t help but tease her. “Ya know Aeri, your english is pretty rusty”

“Hey!” Aeri chuckled in return and her eyes opened slightly. “I only speak English with you and my mom!”

You both laughed yet some silence strung between the two of you

“So, you said you were leaving California to be the world’s greatest designer... You still want that?”

Aeri paused for a moment while shifting in her bed, then smiled. “Hmm... I think maybe I’ll have a business like.. My own line of clothes”

“Ahh wow~” You sighed, “ You’re the same Aeri I remember. Wanting to do everything, have everything and also still so sassy.” you teased again

She laughed, feigning shock. “Sassy? Wow, can’t believe you think of me like that”

Aeri’s grin widened before continuing,  “Actually... I got invited to Japan this summer to design for this brand for a whole month. My professor helped me get into the program!”

“Wait, so you’ll be in Japan for a month?” you asked, surprised. “That’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Aeri nodded, her excitement palpable. “It’s crazy. I can’t believe it’s happening.”

“So, how are your applications going?” she asked, her voice softening.

“Hmm, wellll~ they’re going,” you replied with a small smile. “I’m looking at Boston for grad school.”

Aeri sighed, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “Ah wow, look at us.. when did we grow up? It feels like we’re almost... truly adults.”

“Hmm, I know,” you agreed, a thoughtful pause hanging between you. “Too soon though.”

You hung up shortly after and went about your day. You studied with Yunjin, and later, the girls came over for dinner, followed by a late-night study session. By the time you showered and finally settled into bed, it was already 1 AM when your phone buzzed—Aeri was calling.

“Hello?” You mumbled out as you turned your lamp on

“Oh sorry, were you sleeping?” she asked, her face slightly blurry on the screen.

“Mm,” you sighed softly, rubbing your eyes. “No, I just got into bed, actually.”

“Long day?”

“Mhm, but that’s alright. What’s up?” you asked, shifting into a more comfortable position and reaching for your glasses.

“I’m just.. in Haebonchang right now,” she said, flipping the camera to show the view. “Look how beautiful the sunset is, Y/n.”

The sunset was breathtaking, shades of pink, orange, and purple blending into each other like a painting across the sky.

“Wow... it’s beautiful, Aeri,” you said in awe.

Aeri’s voice softened before she flipped the camera back to herself. “Yeah... I wish you were here,” she said quietly, her eyes flickering between the camera and the fading light.

There was a pause, her words lingering in the space between you.

“Maybe one day.. We could go there together,” you whispered, your voice tinged with sadness.

“Yeah.. I’d really like that,” Aeri responded, her tone gentle but carrying the weight of something more.

There was a brief second of silence. As if both of you were hesitating to speak up.

“I miss you,” you whispered, barely audible, your voice filled with longing. Time zones didn’t matter, distance didn’t matter. You really just longed for Aeri. 

Those three words heavily hung in the air between you two.

“I miss you too,” Aeri quietly admitted, her voice soft but sincere, resistance evident in her confession. 

The day after that interaction, things started to feel different. The FaceTime calls slowly became more sparse, and her texts were less frequent. You tried not to overthink it, giving her the space you thought she might need. But as the days passed, the silence began to weigh on you. Eventually, you double texted  her, unable to ignore any longer.

“Aeri, is everything okay?”

For the first time in days, her response came instantly.

“Yeah sorry, I’m okay. I just have something on my mind. Can we call later?”

Her words did nothing to ease your nerves.

“Of course,” you typed back, keeping it simple, though your heart raced.

 The uncertainty gnawed at you, the anxiety tightening in your chest as you stared at the screen.

Finally, what felt like days but in reality was just a few hours, Aeri called you.

You hesitantly answered “Hey Aeri, you okay?”

There was a pause, and that’s when you knew it didn’t seem promising.

“Y/n,” she began softly, her face on the screen appearing hesitant, almost conflicted.

“..Aeri?” you prompted gently, your voice unsure now.

She sighed deeply, her gaze dropping for a second before meeting yours again. “Y/n… I need to talk to you about something.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah I know, what’s going on? You okay?”

“When is it possible for you to visit me in Seoul?” she asked bluntly, though her tone remained soft.

You hesitated. “Well, maybe about a year or so? Just with grad schoo–”

She cut you off gently,  “I know.. You don’t have to explain yourself, I just– God,” She paused as if holding herself back from admitting something. “It’ll be over a year and a half until I can visit you”

Your eyes stayed glued to the screen, watching her struggle to compose herself. The pit in your stomach deepened

Aeri swallowed hard, clearly struggling with her next words. “I think we should stop talking for a while”

Your chest tightened.

 “Why?”

“I came here..” She began, “ No– I’ve had this goal since forever. I want to accomplish something here but.. I can’t stop myself from looking up flights to California every day. 

And I think… I think I need to focus on committing my life here”

You blinked, the realization slowly sinking in. She was leaving again.

“So you want.. to stop talking to me?” Your words trailed off, unsure of how to finish that thought or if there’s anything more you could possibly say.

“Just for now,” she said quietly, her eyes softening with what seemed like guilt. “And I really don’t want to lose you. But I know.. I have to give this my all.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep the lump in your throat from forming. “Aeri.. It took me 10 years to find you.” 

She looked down again, exhaling slowly trying to fight a sob from coming out. “I know Y/n, but I’ll be back before you know it.. It’s just a brief break”

Fuck

You nodded slowly, though your heart ached. “Alright then Aeri ”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper now. “I’m so sorry” She began to cry.

“No need to be sorry,” You said as you choked back your own tears, clearing your throat to cover it.  “We weren’t dating or anything so don’t worry about it. Really.”

There was a long pause, the silence between you filled with all the things neither of you were ready to say.

“Take care of yourself and good luck, okay?” Aeri said, her voice soft but final.

“You too,” you replied, your throat tight, the words barely escaping. “I’ll be right here.”

The call ended, and for the first time in months, the silence felt unbearable.

Aeri never knew that this was the hardest you cried in years.

Whoever said times heals everything, is a straight up liar. Time doesn’t heal, it just lets you get used to how things are now.

It had been about eight years since you had last spoken to her and honestly, you didn’t think much of Aeri anymore. Life had moved on, as it does. Although, there were days when you’d think back on everything but those thoughts were extremely rare now, fleeting, like a distant memory and it didn’t sting the way it used to. You’d convinced yourself that was just how things went. People come and go, and life moves forward whether you’re ready or not.

Once you graduated and started your new job in Boston not long after. You settled into a routine that felt strange at first but eventually became your new normal

Somehow, you managed to entice Yunjin to move to Boston. She had moved into a place not too far from yours with her (now!) fiance. Her sister also lives in Boston too so the transition wasn’t too hard. Yuna and Ryujin had ended up in New York, so weekends/every other weekend often meant catching a train to visit them or planning get-togethers whenever everyone’s schedules aligned.

Your 9-to-5 job wasn’t glamorous, but it was steady—something you could rely on. You fell into the rhythm of it quickly enough. The crowded subway rides during rush hour, the packed streets of Boston, the distant hum of the city became part of your daily routine. You’d slip into your office, get your work done, and slip out at the end of the day. It wasn’t what you imagined back when you were chasing dreams in California, picturing something a little more exciting, maybe a little more daring. But it wasn’t bad either—it was.. just comfortable.

After work, you'd sometimes grab a drink with coworkers or meet up with the woman you’d met shortly after getting into grad school. There was nothing too serious between the two of you, just the occasional dinners or casual hangouts. She was fun to be around—easygoing, good company, someone you could relax with. You’d meet up after work at a bar downtown, sharing a drink and small talk about your days. Or sometimes, you’d catch a movie or grab takeout, sitting side by side on the couch in her small apartment, talking about work or random things that made you laugh.

It wasn’t the life-altering-head-over-heels kind of thing, but it felt normal, almost comforting. There was no pressure to be anything more than it was or used to be, and that was fine with you both. Life had settled into place without much fanfare, a quiet routine that you didn’t mind..

It wasn’t until one quiet evening, after a long day at work, that something finally disrupted your routine. You were sitting on the couch, nursing a beer, and scrolling through your phone without much thought, letting the noise of the day slowly fade away.

That was until a notification lit up your screen. You glanced at it out of habit, not expecting anything important. But the name made you pause.

Aeri Yizhuo.

Who?

Aeri…?

Your heart skipped a beat as recognition clicked into place.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

For a second, your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the message, the familiar feeling creeping back into your chest, one you hadn’t felt in ages. You hadn’t thought of her in so long, and yet, there she was. After all this time.

And then, the truth hit you like a punch to the gut.

Aeri was married now.

You felt the sting of it, sharp and unexpected, cutting deeper than you would’ve liked to admit. It shouldn’t have hurt this much. You hadn’t thought about her in so long as you knew she’d been building a life in Korea. You had moved on! Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But here she was, after all these years she still had the ability to make you feel something. A feeling couldn’t quite put your finger on.

After all this time, part of you had still hoped for something. For something more than this.

About a month or two after your surprise catch-up with Aeri, you finally decided it was time to visit her. The timing was perfect—it was the end of the fiscal year, and you had some extra days off to use. You figured, why not? It would be a good vacation right? The thought of seeing her after all this time felt surreal, but exciting in a way you couldn’t quite describe. You’d booked your flight, set to leave next weekend so you and your friends decided to meet this weekend.

"So," Yunjin piped up, setting down her shot glass with a grin, "Why are you going to Korea?" You, Yunjin, Yuna, and Ryujin were all seated in Yunjin and Kazuha's shared apartment, a half-empty bottle of vodka in the middle of the table while your beer cans scattered around your side.

"She's going to see that girl, rememberrr?" Ryujin teased, her tone playful.

"Who?" you replied, pretending not to know who she was talking about.

Ryujin rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it. "Don't play dumb, idiot. You know exactly who I'm talking about—your first love, right? I thought she lives there, doesn't she?"

"Oh, I see how it is," Yuna chimed in with a smirk. "You just broke up with your girlfriend so you could go see her, huh? You dog"

"What! I’m going for vacation," you exclaimed, shaking your head. "And plus, you guys are crazy. She's married now."

"WHAT? Seriously?" Yunjin blurted out, her voice incredulous.

"Mhm," you nodded, your tone more casual now though it stung to admit it. "For like five or six years now"

You couldn’t even  bring yourself to feel bad about it. After all, from your previous conversation with Aeri, it was clear how happy she was. She’d met her wife, Ning Yizhou, during her design trip in Japan. Aeri had described Ning as an absolutely beautiful soul, someone kind and supportive. They both work together now, running Aeri’s business, Giselle.

From the way Aeri spoke about Ning, you could hear the genuine love and admiration in her voice. There was no bitterness in your heart—how could there be? You were happy for her, happy that she had found someone who brought light into her life, someone who shared in her dreams.

In fact, you were proud of her. She really did accomplish everything she had set out to do. It was bittersweet, of course, but you were genuinely happy for her. 

That’s all that mattered.

Right?

You stood just outside of Incheon International Airport, the thick scent of rain mingling with the smoke from your cigarette as you waited for your Uber. The weather had suddenly turned gray the second you had landed, casting a quiet gloom over the city, the kind that sinks into your bones(What a great sign, huh?). Raindrops softly patterned on the sidewalk while you took another slow drag, the smoke curling up into the damp air.

The second you crushed the cigarette beneath your shoe and bent over to pick it up, a car pulled up in front of you, headlights cutting through the misty rain. You quickly threw it in the appropriate spot in the trash can and opened the back door, climbing in with a sigh.

“Annyeonghaseyo~,” you greeted the driver in your best (broken) Korean, trying to remember the phrases you had studied years ago for Aeri.

The driver smiled politely in the rearview mirror, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Ah, I also speak English. Are you going to the hotel?”

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, nodding as you let out a small, relieved laugh, “Yes, please!” lowering your head in a polite bow.

The car slipped into the rainy Seoul night, the city lights blurring through the raindrops on the windows. The sound of rain hitting the roof of the car was soothing. Your eyes traced the streets as you drove deeper into the heart of the city. The roads were wet and glistening, the neon signs reflecting off the slick pavement, painting the night in hues of red, blue, and green.

The drive felt longer than it was, the beautiful city of Seoul was a lot to take in. Finally, you pulled up to the front of your hotel, the bright lights of the entrance cutting through the rain. The driver helped you with your bags, and you handed him some Won with a shy bow and a “gamsahamnida,” before heading inside.

Checking in was a blur of polite smiles and hurried conversations with the hotel staff. Before you knew it, you were standing in your empty room, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that made the space feel even bigger.

The rain had picked up, drumming harder against the window. You crossed the room slowly, setting your bag down by the bed before making your way to the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city. The lights of Seoul stretched out before you, and they were incredibly bright. 

A reflection of your younger self flickered in the glass, dim and blurred by the raindrops. It was as if your inner child was staring right back at you—smiling brightly in those stupid colorful shorts your Mom loved to dress you in with a big toothy grin stretching across your face. 

As quickly as she appeared, she vanished. Then reflected back was an almost unrecognizable adult. It was you. The light in your eyes was still prevalent, but it just wasn’t as bright as it used to be. Years must have dimmed that spark and softened the edges of the person you once were.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass, watching as your breath fogged up the window. The city below pulsed with life, its bright lights and movement carrying on unaware of your inner turmoil.

In that moment, surrounded by the bright lights of a city that was so beautiful and full of life.

You had never felt more alone.

Some bridges in Korean folklore represent reunion and enduring love, like the Magpie Bridge, where separated lovers meet once a year to reaffirm their bond. Others, however, represent a fleeting reconnection—brief moments that can’t last, like this one.

The next morning, you got ready and made your way to Seonyudo Park Bridge, a location Aeri had sent you earlier. The sky wasn’t rainy (luckily) and the soft hum of the city seemed distant as you stood at the edge of the bridge, anxiously watching pedestrians and tourists bustle around. Snippets of Korean and bits of broken English floated past you as you nervously fidgeted with the strap of your tote bag.

You shifted your weight, glancing around, when a voice called out, one you hadn’t heard in person in years.

“Y/n!”

Your head instinctively turned.

Suddenly, in front of you stood a child. She wore jean shorts, a Hello Kitty shirt, and had medium length black hair. Her smile was bright, lighting up her entire face, and her eyes sparkled with a familiar excitement.

It was a smile you could recognize anywhere.

For a moment, you were transported back in time. There she was—Aeri, as you remembered her as a child, standing on the other side of the bridge. You froze, staring in disbelief as the vision of her younger self ran toward you, wide-eyed and full of life. It felt so real—the way she moved, the way her smile hadn't changed.

But then you blinked, and the vision vanished and adult, present time Aeri was just walking toward you. She looked different—grown up. Her hair had grown longer, her figure more filled in, and her features had sharpened with time. But that damn smile, the way her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled, was exactly the same as you remembered it from 20 years ago.

Without thinking, your body moved on its own, a shy yet goofy smile creeping across your face as you walked toward her. Your strides were longer, more eager, and you met her about three-quarters of the way across the bridge. You met her where she was.

Now standing just a foot apart, neither of you spoke at first. You both stood there, taking each other in, as if afraid to break the fragile moment. Aeri was still shorter than you by a couple of inches, and she was dressed in a sleek black leather jacket with gray slacks that made her look effortlessly beautiful.

You looked down at her, your heart racing, and for a few seconds, the world around you seemed to fade away. The silence between you wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was the weight of everything left unsaid, everything that had built up over the years.

Finally, Aeri sighed softly, her eyes locked on yours, and a smile tugged at her lips. “Wow~,” she whispered, looking up at you with a mix of awe and warmth.

She surprisingly embraced you in an unexpected  hug. Your hands hovered, ghosting across her sides.

“I missed you” She muffled out on your shoulder

You didn’t respond.

You both pulled back from the hug, standing there, just staring at each other. There was something almost surreal about it—the way you both remembered each other so clearly, yet in this moment, you felt like strangers, familiar but somehow unrecognizable.

“You look amazing,” you croaked out, your voice betraying the flood of emotions. “You’ve changed but... you haven’t? If that makes sense.” A nervous laugh escaped your lips.

Aeri lowered her head, letting out a soft, breathy chuckle. “I could say the same to you... When did you get so tall?”

You shyly smirked “I think you’ve just always been short.”

“Ah~ so you haven’t changed at all. Still so~ annoying,” she teased, her laugh infectious.

The laughter faded, and a comfortable silence settled between you both as you took each other in again, the weight of time pressing gently on the moment.

“So...” Aeri smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You wanna go? I’ve got a few places planned for us.”

“Yeah, of course. Let’s go,” you replied, and without another word, you followed Aeri much like a dog

The Han River has long been a symbol of flow, change, and life in Korea. Flowing water symbolizes the constant change in ones life.. they’re moving in different directions, but still connected in some way.

The walk wasn’t far, but neither of you spoke at first. Aeri led the way and you followed, both of you too shy to break the silence. Finally, she guided you to a quiet spot near the bank of the Han River, the water glistening under the dim light of the overcast sky.

“How’s here?” Aeri finally spoke, settling down near the water’s edge.

“Mmm,” you murmured, nodding as you sat beside her. The lush grass below you.

You both sat quietly, watching the water, the silence growing heavier with unsaid words.

“Was the last time we talked really eight years ago?” Aeri sighed, breaking the silence again.

“I think so? We’re 30 now... So, yeah, I guess it was,” you said, turning your head slightly toward her. “Feels weird huh?” You gave her a little half smile.

“Wow...” she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of those lost years.

After a brief pause, she added, “You know.. before I got married, I went to New York with my wife.”

“I know.”

“I sent you a message on Facebook, I didn’t know if you had changed your number” she continued, smiling softly but with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “But you didn’t respond”

There was another pause. It felt like she had more to say, so you stayed quiet, waiting.

“I wanted to see you,” she admitted quietly. “I was disappointed.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your gaze fixed on the water, avoiding her eyes. There wasn’t much else you could say, something was hanging in the air between you.

Aeri shifted, her tone changing slightly. “Well, I also wanted to meet your girlfriend. How are you guys doing?”

“We’re not together right now,” you admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to— wait, did you break up?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Oh well no, I don't know, we’re just... in a weird spot right now. She wants to get married but...”

“But you don’t?” Aeri asked, cutting through your hesitation.

“Yeah it's just, I don’t know, it’s just... complicated,” you sighed, trying not to reveal too much, keeping your emotions in check.

“What’s complicated?” she pressed, her voice direct, almost matter-of-fact.

You chuckled lightly at her tone. “I’m still paying off my student loans. I just don’t want my wife to carry that burden, you know? Boston is expensive enough as it is...” It wasn’t entirely a lie. But deep down, you knew there was more to your hesitation than just the financial part.

“I just feel like she deserves someone better than me. We’ve been together but.. not really together for so long... She deserves someone who can give her what she wants. Someone... less ordinary and..”

“Ordinary?” Aeri interrupted softly, her voice filled with disbelief. “You’re far from ordinary, Y/n. You know you’re...” she trailed off, as if catching herself before saying too much.

You gave her a small smile, ignoring her hesitation. It was clear neither of you wanted to dig into old feelings, not yet, maybe even never. There was too much that both of you were avoiding.

“So, how’s work?” you asked, gently steering the conversation away from the tension that had built up. The question felt like a safe place to land, something casual and mundane.

Aeri smiled, seeming to relax a little. “Busy, as always. Giselle’s doing well, though. It’s everything I dreamed of... and more stressful than I imagined.”

“That sounds about right,” you chuckled, the heaviness between you starting to ease. “But, I knew you could do it. I’m really proud of you, Aeri.”

Slowly, the awkwardness began to dissipate. You found yourselves laughing about silly memories from when you were younger, filling in the gaps from the eight years you had missed.

Aeri told you about the ups and downs of her business, her wife, her travels, and the unexpected ways life had changed her. You shared stories of grad school, your friends, your job, and the quiet moments of your own life that had shaped you. It was easy to get lost in the rhythm of it, the back and forth, as though no time had passed at all.

Before you knew it, the sun had started to dip, casting soft shades of pink and orange across the sky. .

“Remember that one time when you fe–”

Your stomach grumbled loudly, cutting through Aeri’s story

“Oh my god, are you hungry?” Aeri’s eyes widened with concern. 

Oh, no I’m fine, really!” You tried to assuage but of course she did not relent

“No it’s okay, I could eat too. Let’s go get some food, there’s a great to-go spot nearby, and then I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

She was already on her feet, tugging at your sleeve before you could even think to protest. Not that you would, of course.

You chuckled softly, offering a simple, “Alright,” as a smile crept onto your face. It just felt so natural. Aeri was still the same, always charging ahead, her excitement infectious, leading you from behind as she had so many times before. 

Some things really never change.

Soon, you both arrived at a cozy 24-hour convenience store, the kind that makes it fresh right there. It was small and tucked away, but the smell of freshly made meals greeted you the moment you stepped inside. You ordered an onigiri, feeling like that’s all your stomach could handle after such a day like this. 

You unwrapped it and took a bite, savoring the simple comfort of the food, but before you could settle in, Aeri was pulling you along again, her food in hand, excitement bubbling in her voice.

“Let’s go, the bus comes in three minutes!” she said, glancing at her phone with a grin.

You both made it onto the bus(after scarfing down your rice ball) barely just in time. With no seats available, you were left standing together, holding the same pole.

Strangers pressed in around you, the sounds of conversation and the hum of the city filling the space. But in that moment, it felt like it was only the two of you in the world.

Your fingers brushed against each other, but neither of you moved. The silence stretched between you, not awkward, just heavy with all the years missed. 

You met Aeri’s gaze, and for a brief second, it felt like time slowed. 

The bus glided (not) smoothly through the city streets, and yet the tension between you was almost tangible. Your mind raced with everything you wanted to say, but none of the words seemed right.

"Ae—" you started to say, but before the words could form, Aeri cut you off softly.

“Oh, we’re here,” she said, her voice gently pulling you both back into the present moment.

The bus came to a stop, and you followed her out, stepping into the cool evening air. The two of you walked side by side, the quiet comfort between you settling in again as you made your way toward Namsan Tower, known for its Love Lock Bridge.

“Do you want a picture?” Aeri asked, breaking the silence. “It is your vacation, right? I feel like you haven’t taken many pictures while you’ve been here. Probably my fault,” she laughed lightly, her tone warm.

“Oh yeah, sure!” you said, handing her your phone.

You posed in front of a scenic spot along the path, flashing your signature bright smile.

“Ah~ so cute,” she teased, snapping a few photos before handing your phone back to you.

“Thanks,” you said, quickly glancing at the picture before slipping the phone into your pocket.

The two of you continued walking, your shoulders brushing against each other now and then as the foot traffic toward the bridge picked up. Just before you reached the bridge, Aeri stopped in her tracks, turning to you with a serious look.

“Y/n,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

“Hmm?” you looked at her curiously.

“Why did you... search for me?” she asked quietly, her gaze lingering on you.

“Eight years ago?” you finished for her.

“Mhm,” she nodded.

“Do you really want to know?” you asked, meeting her eyes. She gave a small nod in response, waiting.

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I wanted to see you again... I don’t know. You left so suddenly, and I guess I was a little pissed off, honestly.”

“I’m sorry,” Aeri said softly.

You let out a small huff of laughter. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I guess... you’re right. I don’t have anything to be sorry for,” she admitted, smiling faintly.

“You were just in my entire life, and then you left... and then, bam, I found you again,” you said, the words coming out more candidly than you expected.

“Why would you do that?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“I don’t know, honestly... You kept entering my mind when I was in college. I thought about you... a lot,” you admitted.

Aeri nodded, her expression softening. “I see.”

“We were babies back then, huh?” you chuckled, the tension easing. “And even eight years ago... we were still figuring things out.”

“Yeah,” Aeri smiled, a bittersweet glint in her eyes. “I can’t believe we’re not ‘babies’ anymore.”

You both finally arrived at the Love Lock Bridge, the sky now a deep shade of blue, illuminated by the city lights below. The bridge was alive with the soft hum of conversations you couldn’t quite understand  and the distant sounds of traffic, but you felt a quiet stillness between you and Aeri walked around.

“Ning  and I came here for our anniversary,” Aeri said, her voice almost wistful as she glanced around. “It was hard to find at first. We spent months looking for the perfect spot to place our lock.”

She started scanning the rows upon rows of locks, her fingers brushing over the cold metal as she looked for hers. But while she was focused on finding it, you couldn’t stop staring at her—the way her hair fell over her face as she leaned in, the subtle concentration etched on her features, the soft smile that tugged at her lips every now and then as she searched.

You knew you should probably  be at least trying to help her, but at this moment, it felt like she was a world away, even as she stood right next to you. She was talking about their anniversary, their love, and you couldn’t shake away the sinking feeling.

Then suddenly, She spotted it. A small, worn lock with their names etched in faded letters. Ning and Aeri. She pointed at it.

“There,” she said softly.

Your eyes followed your finger, and she smiled when she saw it.

“Wow... I didn’t think we’d be able to find it.”

You forced a smile, but the heaviness in your chest lingered. After a few moments of small talk about the lock, the conversation lulled, and Aeri checked the time. The soft glow of the city lights and the quiet hum of the evening reminded you both that this reunion, like everything, had to come to an end.

“I should probably head home,” Aeri said quietly, her voice carrying a hint of reluctance. She didn’t want to break the moment, but it was inevitable.

You nodded, your own smile fading. “Yeah, I should  get back too.”

Home. She was going home to someone—to a life that didn’t include you. And as much as you tried to push the thought aside, it stung.

She walked with you toward the bus stop, in silence. The conversation from earlier echoed in your mind—how you had found her again, only to realize that the distance between your lives was now undeniable.

When the bus pulled up, Aeri watched as you stepped inside. She gave you one last, soft smile, the kind that carried more meaning than any words could, just before the doors closed between you.

You said your quiet goodbye, instead of walking her home like you used to, you headed back to your own place. Alone.

The next day arrived with a clearer sky, though the weight of the previous night still lingered faintly in your chest. You weren’t sure how to feel, but Aeri’s early morning text had a way of pulling you out of your thoughts: “Let’s go to  Seoul Tower today! I feel like everyone who visits needs to see it.”

Of course you agreed, a few hours later when you had checked out of your hotel, you found yourself walking toward one of Seoul’s most famous places, N Seoul Tower, with Aeri by your side. The streets were alive with locals and tourists, bustling around market stalls and snapping photos.

There was a vibrant energy of the city surrounding you, but your focus was on Aeri, who was as animated as ever, pointing out landmarks and sharing random facts about the places you passed. It was cute.

“This place is sooo a must for anyone visiting Seoul,” Aeri said with a grin as you passed a shop offering hanbok rentals. “Wanna try one on?” She teased “Or are you more in the mood for food?”

You bantered back. “Let’s try food first. I don’t think I’m ready for a hanbok yet,” you playfully rolled your eyes

You stopped at a food stall, grabbing some hotteok, tteokbokki, and grilled meat skewers.

“You have to try this. It’s my favorite,” she said, handing you a cup of hotteok, her face lighting up as you took a bite of the warm treat “See?! I knew you’d like it.”

The day moved quickly as you wandered through the crowded streets, snapping photos, enjoying the ‘touristy’ vibe. It felt easier, lighter, as if you could both escape into the city, even if just for a while.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over the city, Aeri led you to the top of N Seoul Tower. From the observation deck, you could see all of Seoul stretched out before you. The view was breathtaking, the city bathed in the soft light of the sun.

“This city... it’s strange how much it’s become home,” Aeri said quietly, her voice softer now. She leaned against the railing, staring out at the skyline. “I never thought I’d feel that way when I first moved here.”

You stood beside her. “It’s beautiful,” you said, your own voice hushed, as if speaking too loudly might break the delicate moment. You stared at her as she gazed out over the city, your mind was elsewhere.

For a while, you both stood in silence, taking in the view. In that moment, it didn’t matter where you had come from or where you were going. 

For now, this was enough.

After spending the day embodying a tourist and such, the sun had long set, and the once-bustling streets now felt quieter as you followed Aeri back to her apartment.

You were nervous of course,

“She knows I’m coming. right?” you asked, pausing mid-step.

“Of course,” Aeri replied, leading you up the steps to her apartment—the place she now called home.

As you entered, Aeri's wife, Ning, was already by the door. You weren’t sure what you had expected, but seeing her in the flesh felt surreal, like a final confirmation of the life Aeri had built without you. It felt like the gap between your past with Aeri and her present had suddenly become tangible.

After a brief moment of silence, you gave Ning a polite bow, offering your best attempt at broken Korean. “Annyeonghaseyo,” you said, smiling awkwardly.

Ning returned the gesture with a polite bow of her own. “Hello,” she responded in careful English.

For a second, both of you stood there, staring at each other incredulously, trying to find the right words, the weight of the moment hanging between you.

You nodded, your heart racing slightly. “It’s nice to meet you,” you added, this time in your most broken Korean.

Ning smiled kindly, understanding the effort you were making. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she said

Ning chuckled softly, the slight language barrier immediately apparent but not uncomfortable. “Aeri told me… a lot about you.” she responded in English

“Likewise”

Aeri came to your side, sensing the mix of emotions swirling in the air. “Ning, should we grab something to eat? She’s leaving later tonight, so I think we should eat,” Aeri said in Korean, but you didn’t quite catch the words.

Ning nodded and turned to you, switching back to English. “What do you like to eat?”

You pondered for a moment, thinking of something simple but satisfying. “Hmm… samgyupsal?”

Ning’s face immediately lit up at the mention of her favorite food. “Let’s go get samgyupsal!” she said, her excitement evident.

You three ended up at a cozy late-night bar and restaurant, the soft hum of conversation and clinking of glasses filling the space. Dinner had gone smoothly, the samgyupsal hitting the spot, and now you were all nursing drinks, passing time until your Uber was set to arrive.

“So, have you traveled out of the United States before?” Ning asked in Korean, her expression curious. Of course, you didn’t understand, but Aeri leaned in, her voice low as she translated.

“She’s asking if you’ve been out of the country before,” Aeri said with a small smile, eyes flicking between you and her wife.

You shook your head with a soft laugh. “I’ve been to Japan and Spain before, but I think Korea has been my favorite so far.”

Aeri translated the words, and Ning nodded with a smile.

“She says Seoul is a good place to start when visiting Korea, but if you come back, you should visit Jeju Island. It’s beautiful there,” Aeri translated again, while Ning added in her own bit in Korean, her face lighting up.

“I’ve heard great things about Jeju,” you said, returning the smile. “Maybe next time.”

The small talk flowed easily enough, but as the night wore on, Aeri slowly stopped translating, and Ning sat quietly, sipping her drink. It created an odd dynamic—one where it felt like Aeri was caught between two worlds, and Ning, though polite, was drifting further into her own thoughts.

You couldn’t help it. With the drinks loosening your tongue and emotions swirling inside you, the words began to spill out. Leaning in slightly, you lowered your voice, careful to keep your tone steady. “Aeri… thanks for introducing me to your wife.”

Aeri blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “Mm,” she mumbled, her gaze flickering between you and her drink, unsure of where you were headed.

“I can tell she really loves you,” you added softly, the sincerity in your voice clear. "I didn't realize liking your wife would hurt this much."

Aeri’s eyes softened, her brow furrowing slightly. “Really?” she asked, her voice almost hesitant, as if she needed confirmation.

“Of course,” you replied, your words gentle, but heavy with the weight of what you weren’t saying.

A moment of silence passed, the sounds of the bar fading into the background as the two of you sat there, the space between you filled with things that had been left unsaid for too long.

You took a sip from your glass, gathering the courage to speak again. “… When we stopped talking back then… I really missed you. Did you miss me?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and raw, as if you’d been holding it in for years.

Aeri’s gaze dropped for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. When she finally looked up at you, her voice was softer, almost vulnerable. “Of course I did, Y/n.”

A dry laugh escaped your lips. “But you met your wife then.” There was an edge to your voice, a bitterness that surprised even you.

Aeri responded instantly, almost defensively. “And you had a girlfriend.”

You scoffed softly. “Right,” you murmured, shaking your head with a small smile. “Sorry.”

Aeri fidgeted with the rim of her glass. “It’s okay.”

After a few quiet moments, you exhaled, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. The words slipped out before you had the chance to stop them. “Seeing you again… it’s made me have some strange thoughts.”

Aeri lifted her eyes to yours, her gaze gentle but curious. “What kind of thoughts?” she asked softly.

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass as you searched for the right words. “I keep thinking… what if I had come here eight years ago? What if you never left California? If we’d just grown up together, stayed in each other’s lives…” 

You paused, the questions swirling in your mind before you continued, your voice growing softer. “Would I have still searched for you? Would we have dated? Broken up? Gotten married and had kids? Just.. you know, stuff like that.”

You glanced at Aeri, her expression unreadable as she absorbed everything you said.

“And what I’ve realized,” you continued, almost to yourself, “is that California… it was always too small for your ambition. You outgrew it before either of us realized. I’m happy you moved here, Aeri, I really am.

And the truth is, I liked you because you’re you. And who you are…” You trailed off for a moment, letting the words sink in before you finished quietly. “Who you are is someone who leaves.”

Aeri’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching. She looked away for a second, as if trying to gather her thoughts, before her voice came out in a whisper. “The Aeri Uchinaga you remember… she doesn’t exist anymore.”

Her words cracked slightly, as if admitting it to herself for the first time.

You felt a soft chuckle escape you, one tinged with understanding. “I know,” you replied. “I know.”

She nodded, but quickly added, “But… that doesn’t mean she never existed.” Her eyes met yours again, softer now. “I left that version of me behind 20 years ago. I left her with you.”

Her words, the honesty in them, tugged at something deep within you. “I know,” you repeated, meeting her gaze, a strange sense of peace settling over you. “I know we were only twelve… but I really did love her.”

Aeri’s lips curved into a small, sad smile, the kind that holds years of unspoken truths. “I know,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

You both let out a quiet laugh, the sound soft but comforting, a brief return to the simplicity of who you used to be.

“I think we must’ve been something together in our past lives,” she said after a while, her voice distant, thoughtful. “Otherwise, why would we be here together right now?”

You thought about her words, turning them over in your mind. “I agree,” you finally said. “But in this life… we obviously just aren’t those people to each other, are we? We’re finally in the same city for the first time in 20 years, and here we are, sitting together... with your wife.”

Your expression softened, as you quietly acknowledged the truth you both knew. “To Ning, you’re someone who stays,” you whispered.

A few moments of silence passed between you and Aeri.

“Who do you think we were to each other in our past lives?” Aeri asked suddenly, her voice soft, almost wistful.

You tilted your head, considering the question. “Hmm… I don’t know,” you said, your tone thoughtful. “Maybe we were forced into a political marriage to stop a war…Or maybe we were just two strangers on a bus who happened to sit next to each other. Or even.. maybe I was just a branch you decided to sit on as a bird on a cold morning.”

You and Aeri chuckled at that, though you could sense a sadness behind it.

You both sat in the quiet for a few more moments, the weight of those imagined lives lingering in the air, until Aeri excused herself to use the restroom, leaving you alone with Ning.

You turned toward her, feeling guilty for the past hour. “I’m sorry we spoke alone,” you said gently, your voice low. “It won’t happen again.”

Ning gave you a small, gentle smile, though there was something sad in her eyes. “Don’t worry,” she replied, her English hesitant but kind. “You two haven’t seen each other in a while. I’m glad I got to meet you Y/n.”

You nodded, her response easing some of the tension in your chest. “I’m glad too,” you said softly, offering her a smile in return

When Aeri returned, you paid the bill and the three of you made your way back to the apartment to grab your luggage. The atmosphere had shifted slightly—quiet, but not uncomfortable, just the natural stillness that follows the end of a long day.

“Hey, I’m gonna walk her to her Uber,” Aeri said to Ning, offering her a small, reassuring smile before turning toward you and the door.

You paused for a moment, glancing at Ning. Bowing slightly, you tried your best to piece together the Korean you’d practiced. “Nice to meet you. Come visit me in California.”

Ning’s eyes softened, and despite the awkwardness of the language barrier, her warmth was undeniable. She returned the bow, her own English just as halting but genuine. “Definitely,” she replied, her smile sincere. You offered her a small smile in return before following Aeri out the door.

As you and Aeri stepped out of the apartment, the cool night air hit you both. You walked side by side down the quiet street, neither of you saying much, both lost in your own thoughts.

The streets were dimly lit, the distant hum of the city lingering in the background. Every now and then, your shoulders brushed, but neither of you acknowledged it. 

As you neared the end of the street, where your Uber was set to pick you up, you both stopped, standing under a flickering streetlight. The quiet air felt thick, the weight of the goodbye neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

Aeri shifted slightly, glancing at you before looking away, her hands fidgeting in her jacket pockets. “Will it be here soon?” she asked, her voice soft, trying to smooth over the tension between you.

You glanced at your phone, the screen glowing back at you. “Two minutes,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silence.

Some more silence fell between you two as the night deepened, the distant sounds of the city humming softly around you. Neither of you made any effort to fill the quiet, as if both afraid that words would shatter whatever remained between you.

Finally, the low rumble of a car pulling up signaled that your time was almost up. You glanced at the Uber, then down at your bags. With a sigh, you began to pack them into the trunk, your movements slow, almost hesitant, as if trying to delay the inevitable.

Just as you were about to open the car door, something inside you stirred. You couldn’t let this moment end without saying it.

“Aeri,” you called out, your voice breaking the silence as you turned toward her, your hand resting on the handle of the door.

She looked up, her eyes lighting up just a little as she responded, “Mm?”

For a moment, you hesitated, unsure if you should say the words that had been circling in your mind. But the thought of leaving without voicing them felt unbearable. So you smiled, that bittersweet smile tugging at your lips as you spoke.

“What if this is a past life as well, and we are already something else to each other in our next life? Who do you think we are then?” You could feel a deep sadness in your voice as the words left your lips.

Aeri blinked, the question taking her by surprise. Her eyes searched for yours, as if trying to understand the depth of your meaning. She looked almost vulnerable at that moment, her lips parting slightly before she whispered, “I-I don’t know.” Careful with her words

There was something in the way she said it—like she wanted to know, like she wished she had an answer for you but couldn’t bring herself to find one. The distance between you two felt like more than just the physical space separating you—it was something neither of you could cross.

You had realized just then. At that moment. That she hasn’t been looking at you with any sort of love or longing. She’d just been looking at you with nostalgia. A life before the weight of the world crashed down on her.

You lowered your head with a sad laugh in response to her.

“Alright,” you began, “Goodbye, Aeri Uchinaga.. See you then.” you whispered finally parting ways with the girl you'd known 20 years ago.

A feeling of loss over you, almost suffocating. You still managed a genuine smile because you were happy Aeri was happy. 

Bittersweet. 

“See you.. then, Y/n L/n” she whispered. 

With that, you gave her a small nod, your heart heavy. The air between you felt thick with everything unsaid. Aeri looked back at you, her eyes holding a mix of emotions—nostalgia, sadness, maybe a little bit of both.

You opened the door and got into the backseat of the Uber. You glanced out the window one last time, catching a glimpse of Aeri standing there under the streetlight. She looked a little blurry in the dim light, but still the same Aeri you’ve always known.

For a second, your eyes met again. Neither of you waved, neither of you spoke. You both knew this was how it had to end.

You took a deep breath and nodded to the driver, and the car pulled away.

You silently stared out the window as the scenery of Seoul flashed by while tears streamed down your face. 

You’ll never know that she was crying too. Harder than she ever had before.

[galedekarios]

plagiarism in the bg3 fandom

disclaimer: this post should not be taken as a springboard to harrass anyone involved.

-

as i've stated previously, i didn't want to make this post because i have a lot going on in real life, but i have been watching this being done to others and myself for months now and i can't not speak about my experience anymore.

laiostoudenn (prev urls: lathanderr/spellbooking/wizardblood) is a plagiarist and he has a history of stealing from other creators like @minthara, @mercymaker, @onewingedangels and others.

in this post, i, finally and after much and long deliberation, want to add my voice to theirs.

i'll try to give a chronological overview of what happened as i have come to experience it, through others and myself, and as condensed as possible and to make it easier for myself to tell:

the story

i became aware of this new blog after he @ me and he messaged me. he's been following me. i was slow to engage because i have a lot of things going on in my real life that cost me a lot of energy during the day. i have also grown cautious of too quickly becoming close to strangers online. i became aware, however, that he had been doing this with multiple bigger creators in this space, like my friend @hawke, who is also a creator in the bg3 space, and who has experienced the same behaviour. they asked me if i knew him and i replied that i did not.

that was it for me at that point and i didn't engage much beyond that because i didn't know him and i thought nothing of it - until later.

during that time, whenever i saw his creations pop up increasingly, either in the tags or on my dash, i noticed more and more that they looked familiar to the works of others, from @minthara, to @mercymaker, to @onewingedangels and other creators, including myself.

it was then confirmed that i wasn't simply imagining things when, months ago, two creators were brave enough to speak up about the fact that he has been plagiarising gifsets and edits from them:

@minthara and @mercymaker:

@onewingedangels original set posted on 31st december 2023:

his set posted on 29th january 2024 (now deleted):

this was done without consent, and after he had already copied prior sets from @onewingedangels.

i would greatly recommend reading the posts shared above, and looking at the examples provided in it, so that you get a clear picture of what's happening here. it's not one isolated incident.

if you take a look at the notes in the post, you can also see other creators speaking about their experiences.

@minthara has recently also uploaded a google docs with the screenshots of the sets stolen from them because they either have been deleted, or lead to nothing due to now multiple url changes.

i was made aware today that he, following the first posts detailing @minthara and @mercymaker's experiences, apologised at first and admitted to what he's been doing on 31st march 2024:

but sadly, this wasn't to last, and the opportunity to learn and grow wasn't taken.

instead what happened was now painted as "bullying" from other creators, as "clique" behaviour and as "gatekeeping", despite many of us operating independently from each other. i, myself, have only started speaking to one other creator involved now that i have noticed the stealing and copying still ongoing.

i have in my time on this website never gatekept anything. i have shared metas, gifsets, creations, mods, art, tutorials, and many other things freely.

but back to the matter at hand: after he has been trying to ingratiate himself to me for some time now, following me, unfollowing me, and refollowing me again until i blocked him for my own mental health, i tried to remain civil before this point, engaging rarely if at all, hoping everything would go away on its own - which was a mistake in hindsight, i realise - i noticed that once again he's been lifting entire concepts and frame-by-frame gifs and sets from me.

things that he now claims - likely after he has been made aware of my prior personal posts and @minthara and @mercymaker's post circulating again by being reblogged by other people who have been affected) - were simply "remade" or "expanded" upon, that he may have been "subconsciously" influenced, while simultaneously claiming that he didn't know these sets existed in the first place, that he came up with the ideas independently, and that it's simply inevitable to use the same scenes because it's a limited game.

this doesn't hold up under scrutiny, however.

i want to make clear that i very much understand and that i am acutely aware that i do not own scenes and i do not own mods or outfits. however, what i do like to pride myself on is coming up with concepts and scene choices and captions accompanying these concepts that are unique, inspired by my metas, headcanons pertaining to gale and my own ocs altonaufein and karl, all of which i have seen copied by him several times now.

this is not as simple as simply gifing the same lines of dialogue from a scene as he and others supporting him are now postulating and i want to make that very, very clear.

another reason why this statement doesn't hold up under any scrutiny and, what ultimately confirmed my suspicion that he has been copying me, was when he - after the first post exposing his behaviour by @minthara and @mercymaker was made - reached out to me, asking if it it's ok to copy a gifset i made (note: again, this happened after he was called out for plagiarising the first time):

i didn't respond quickly enough, so he went ahead and posted it without waiting for my response (the response i gave him is pictured above and for transparancy, i responded about a day later bc of work and irl obligations).

below you can see the stolen post and what i managed to save from it:

the set was a 1:1 copy. he wanted a version for his oc so bad that he went ahead and stole my concept anyhow, without even waiting for the permission he asked for.

he went to take it down after my reply, made cautious most likely by his still fresh callout done in march 2024 by @minthara and @mercymaker, and i thought the issue was resolved and it wouldn't happen again, that he wouldn't take again without asking, despite having been told not only by myself, but by other creators as well, no. we are not comfortable.

but no. he "remade" the set, switching out gifs while complaining about how he "had to make it original":

my set in question was made on 1st february 2024, he reached out to me on 22nd april 2024 to "remake" the set. he is well aware of the existence of these ideas and concepts and sets he wants to copy, underlined by the need to ask for permission when it's simply too obvious to otherwise deny.

it's no coincidence.

like others have had the experience, i too noticed that he often would not engage with content he planned on stealing or did go through with stealing. he would sometimes present it as his own "remake" of a set he did, of another he was "inspired" or wanted to "expand upon", sometimes crediting, sometimes crediting someone largely unrelated, sometimes and, more often, not crediting.

as i mentioned above, this was not the first and not the only set/concept, which he copied from me - whether that was before asking or after asking, or not asking at all, if it was ok to copy.

i use this example mainly to show a clear pattern of behaviour that exists across the board: he takes concepts from other creators and inserts his own oc and/or favourite character into it because he wants a version of it so very badly. it does not matter if said creator might be hurt, if they told him no, or if they exposed his behaviour before. it doesn't matter how old the set is or how recent.

it is still going on today, the only difference is that he has stopped asking at all once again.

my story completely echoes that of @minthara and @mercymaker's.

concrete examples

i will now go into more detail about the concept sets he's been copying, include the caption or quote attached to it. i'm sorry that these will not be in chronological fashion. i will add at a later point, just like @minthara has done, a google document to better do side by side comparisons, highlight the similarities visually even more, and preserve some of the sets, which have now been deleted by him as recently as today:

the theme of hands in gale's romance

-> mine posted on 23rd september 2023

versus

-> his 1 posted on 24th february 2024

-> his 2 posted on 17th june 2024

i want to preface this by saying that the theme of hands was and still is incredibly important to story of my oc altonaufein and has concept of romance with gale. again, while i do not own these scenes, i wished to highlight a theme that i identified as poignant and profound within the relationship context. it's also why i added the poetry and quotes accompanying the set.

notice how even the caption format matches. the only thing lacking are my quotes / poems.

the format matches almost entirely: gifs from the same scenes (pulling gale out of the portal, the bench scene in an illusionary waterdeep, the astral sea scene, the boat scene, and more of the boat scene). the only thing that was added in this gifset are scenes that weren't available to me back then, namely the updated proposal scene, the kisses patches, and the epilogue as they came out well after i made my original gifset.

the second re-make even contains a gif that's not only the same minute detail of a larger scene - one that anyone who played gale's romance knows contains a multitude of other parts that could have been used - but also the same frames:

mine vs his:

i suppose adding that one to the original post with the same format i had chosen for mine would have made it too obvious, but that is only speculation.

gale + missing waterdeep/home

-> mine posted on 30th september 2023

versus

-> his (deleted on 18th july 2024) so i will have to include screenshots so you may compare:

same caption format, overlapping scenes chosen, only new additions are of content that wasn't available to me back when i first made my original set (the epilogue, kiss patches and proposal scene).

an attempt at "credit" even though he is only referencing my tags on an entirely separate set of a different creator, not the concept i came up with in my original set months prior.

and even though i have told him no before, just like others have told him no before.

i think it speaks volumes that this set is now, like some others, have been suddenly and coincidentally deleted.

gale of waterdeep vs gale dekarios

-> mine posted on 20th november 2023

versus

-> his posted on 13th may 2024

the concept is entirely the same, the scenes are largely overlapping, again, the caption format is almost entirely identical, with the sole difference of me including the full quote and devnotes as i'm wont to do.

gale + i love you

-> mine posted 16th september 2023

versus

-> his 2 (a "remake" of an "older" set of "his") posted on 13th may 2024

again, the concept is entirely the same, it's same caption format, the scenes largely overlap, some of the gifs added that were not available to me when i made my set (which, again, would include the epilogue, kisses patches, and the updated proposal scene).

mermay gale

-> mine posted on 13th may 2024

versus

-> his posted on 21st may 2024

it's the same concept again, the caption format is similar, it's the same setting (camp at baldur's gate), the same armour, the same armour tint, the same 3/4 pose except mirrored, and, this time, his tags were inspired too:

my tag: #i have the worst art block still and virtually no time but i still wanted to do smth for mermay so have this

his tag: #i can't do art so heres my mermay contribution i guess

copied oc post

-> mine posted on (likely) 30th september 2021

versus

-> his originally posted on may 7th 2024, which has also now been deleted on 18th july 2024:

the only thing different was the font. sadly, i deleted my oc post since i have redesigned some of them and wanted to make an updated version of it in the future.

thankfully i found the link on my friends blog, @ayrennaranaaldmeri.

as you can see, all of these happened after the first cases of plagiarism and after i personally told him that i'm not comfortable with him "remaking" my concept sets as his.

conclusion

there are many other sets that i suspect have been copied or plagiarised, i want to remain objective, however, and include the ones i feel are the most damning examples, supported by the fact that he has been deleting some of them today while again, trying to set up his narrative to his audience.

again, i want to highlight the pattern is here with him. my post is not the first, my suspicious are the first.

he knows what he is doing wrong, highlighted by the fact of trying to ask for permission, by deleting sets in question, by, at first, apologising, whilst now talking about "gatekeeping", "bullying", "inevitable repeats of scenes", "taking inspiration", "scrolling by", being "subconsciously" influenced, etc.

as a conclusion, i can say nothing more on this topic other than that i'm very sad. it doesn't give me joy. it stressed me immensely then and it still does now. i wish he'd have taken the already admitted wrong-doing to heart and grown from it, instead of attempting to change the narrative and doubling down on his past behaviour, not examining what he has done and is doing several times over by now.

i have blocked him now, as have done many others, and will not engage further with him. we have been through this before and at this point, i don't think he will change.

what i do very much hope, however, is that this is the last i hear of this happening.

edit:

updated the links to lead to his "archive" so you can access the stolen sets that he still hasn't deleted and seems to have no intentions of doing so.