#back to wonder / not love or happiness just something to talk about /

[kxsagi]

Welcome back kxsagi. In lights to the latest Blue Lock chapter, I'm here with an angst Reo request. May I request: Reader breaks off her arranged marriage with Reo because of his ambiguous relationship with Nagi and it didn't take long for her to accept the overseas scholarship to the US. After Nagi gets eliminated from Blue Lock, Reo begins to wonder if wooing Reader back is worth it.

“𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟”

a/n: who hurt you 💔

ngl i liked writing this one tho, i love a reader who knows her worth (title inspired by greedy by queen tate mcrae)

you don’t cry when you break off the engagement. maybe you should’ve. it would’ve felt more cinematic, more like a love story falling apart. but you don’t even raise your voice. you sit across from reo in his sleek black dining room, stare at him through the steam of untouched tea, and ask him plainly, “do you love me?” 

he doesn’t answer. not in the way that matters. instead, he says, “nagi’s important to me.” 

and that’s all you need. 

you don’t ask how important. you’ve heard it in his voice when he talks about nagi, seen it in the way his eyes trail after him, like he’s gravity. like everything in reo’s world orbits him. and you? you were the well-packaged life plan. the trophy girl he could fall in love with eventually. 

but love shouldn't feel like a delayed payment. 

you slip the ring off your finger and set it on the marble counter. you don’t look back when you walk out of the house, or when his mother calls the next day in a panic. you’ve already accepted the overseas scholarship by then – full ride, prestigious university in the U.S., a future that has nothing to do with boardrooms or arranged marriage portfolios. 

it surprises you how easy it is. you thought it would hurt more. but it’s like slipping out of a coat that never quite fit right. you feel lighter. untethered. 

reo doesn’t try to stop you. 

and that, in its own way, is the loudest answer of all. 

weeks pass. months. blue lock rages on like a firestorm back home, and you don’t keep up with it, at least not publicly. you pretend you’re too busy with midterms, frat parties, finding new favorite coffee shops and running late to everything. but in the quiet hours of the night, you still check the scores. you read the headlines. you don’t search for reo’s name. you search for nagi’s. because you want to know when it happens. 

and it does. 

eliminated. early. 

no fanfare. no post-match interviews. just a name in the footnotes of a sports article you have no business reading. and the moment you see it, you know – reo must’ve watched that game. must’ve felt something twist in his chest when the person he built his whole life around walked off the field, not with a bang, but a shrug. 

maybe reo expected to be there, waiting for him. maybe he thought nagi would find him again. 

but he never does. 

and reo… reo’s left standing in a stadium that suddenly feels too big, surrounded by ghosts. 

he starts seeing you in strange places. not really, you’re thousands of miles away, but in flickers. the way a girl holds her coffee, the exact pitch of laughter from behind a bookshop door, the scent of that perfume you wore only on weekends. he doesn’t realize it at first, but you start haunting him. 

he opens your old texts. never responds. scrolls through the pictures he never deleted. you smiling up at the camera, hair a mess, lips stained with strawberry gloss. you holding up a peace sign in front of the mikage family summer house, eyes crinkled, wearing his hoodie. 

he wonders what he’s supposed to do with all this regret. 

sometimes he thinks about messaging you. once, he even types it out. hey. are you happy there? he stares at it for a long time, thumb hovering over send, before deleting it and tossing the phone across the couch. 

because what would it change? 

he made his choice. chose something undefined over someone real. and now nagi’s gone, and so are you, and all that’s left is the echo of what could’ve been. 

he goes to your favorite bakery one morning without thinking. the owner recognizes him but says nothing. he buys the cinnamon bun you used to love and eats it alone in his car. it doesn’t taste the same. 

he wonders if he should try to win you back. wonders if the fantasy of redemption is better than the reality of rejection. 

across the ocean, you’re thriving. not because you’re trying to prove anything, but because you finally feel like yourself. no one’s fiancée. no one’s backup plan. just a girl who learned how to leave before someone forgot to ask her to stay. 

you think about reo sometimes. in the quietest moments. in that gentle, faraway way you think about a chapter that ended too early. 

if he ever reaches out, you don’t know what you’ll say. 

but you do know this: you won’t wait in the stands. not for him. not for anyone. 

you’ve got a new game to play. 

and this time, it’s yours alone. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[unabashegirl]

Love Island — part 6

Author's note: Hey lovies ❤️ I hope you're all getting some rest and taking care of yourselves. If you had a great week, I’m so happy for you—and if it was a tough one, I’m really sorry. But hey, you made it through, and that counts for something. 💛

Please, please don’t hesitate to send in your requests — whether it’s blurbs, one-shots, or even just a fun idea you want to see come to life. If you're feeling a little shy, no worries at all — you can always send them in anonymously through Tumblr! I’d love to hear from you and create more content you’ll enjoy 🌞💌

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The beauty room was quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound accompanying Y/N as she wiped away the remnants of her make-up. The day had been long and emotionally draining, her mind replaying every interaction, every glance, every word. Harry’s behaviour, or rather lack thereof, gnawed at her. She’d seen him laughing with Sophia earlier, their heads bent close as if sharing a secret, and the sight had felt like a knife twisting in her chest.

The door creaked open, and Y/N’s eyes flicked up to the mirror. Harry stood there, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts, his usual confident demeanour replaced by something hesitant. She turned back to the mirror, focusing on her reflection as she continued wiping off her make-up.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice soft but steady. “Can we talk?”

Ah, Harry. The king of timing. Nothing like waiting until the absolute worst moment to finally address the elephant in the villa

She didn’t respond immediately, finishing with her make-up wipe before tossing it into the bin. Finally, she turned to face him, arms crossed. “Talk about what, Harry?”

He took a tentative step forward. “About today. About… everything.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression guarded. “Now you want to talk? After ignoring me all day?”

Harry winced, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I just… I didn’t know how to approach you.”

“Approach me?” she repeated, her tone sharp. “Harry, you’re my partner. We’re supposed to be in this together. And yet, you’re off entertaining Sophia while I’m left wondering where we stand.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he said quickly, his voice rising slightly. “She asked me to go on the date. I didn’t have a choice.”

“And after the date?” Y/N shot back. “Did you have a choice then? Because you chose not to come talk to me. You chose to avoid me, Harry.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “You’re right. I should’ve come to you. I should’ve explained everything, but I was… scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of making things worse,” he admitted. “I knew you were upset, and I thought if I gave you space, it might help. Clearly, I was wrong.”

Y/N’s gaze softened slightly, though her stance remained firm. “You can’t just shut me out, Harry. That’s not how this works. If we’re going to survive in here, we need to communicate. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

He nodded, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. “You’re right. I messed up, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored or unimportant because you’re not. You’re the only one I care about in here, Y/N.”

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of insincerity but finding none. Slowly, her arms uncrossed, and she let out a sigh. “Do you like her, Harry?” she asked suddenly, her tone firm. “And I mean be straight with me. No bullshit.”

Harry froze, his eyes darting away as he hesitated. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “I like spending time with you, Y/N. But I… I guess I just want to keep my options open for now.”

“Ah, the classic ‘keep my options open.’ Translation: I like you but not enough to close the shop.”

Her expression faltered for a moment, the bluntness of his words cutting deeper than she expected. She straightened, her walls going up again. “Right. Well, thanks for being honest, I suppose,” she said, her voice quieter but edged with hurt. “But don’t expect me to wait around while you figure out your options, Harry. I’m not a backup plan.”

“Backup plan? Y/N isn’t even the plan—she’s the main event, Harry!”

Harry’s face fell. “Y/N, it’s not like that—”

“Then what is it like?” she interrupted, meeting his gaze with a steely resolve. “Because right now, it feels like I’m the one doing all the work to keep this going. And if you’re not all in, maybe we’re wasting our time.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond but faltered, unable to find the right words. Y/N shook her head, turning back to the mirror. “You know where I stand. Prove to me that I’m wrong about you, Harry. Otherwise, don’t bother.”

For the first time that day, Harry didn’t know what to say.

The next morning, Y/N and Chloe were sprawled out on yoga mats on the villa terrace, catching their breath after finishing a Pilates YouTube video. The sun bathed the terrace in a warm glow, and the faint sound of birds chirping added to the calmness of the scene. Y/N wiped her forehead with a towel, her expression distant.

“Nothing like a bit of Pilates to stretch the legs and spill the tea.”

Chloe noticed immediately. “Alright, spill. You’ve been quiet all morning. What’s going on?”

Y/N sighed, sitting up and crossing her legs. “It’s Harry,” she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. “Last night, we had a chat. I asked him straight up if he liked Sophia, and do you know what he said?”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“He said he wants to keep his options open,” Y/N said, her voice cracking slightly. “I mean, what am I supposed to do with that? I feel like an idiot for even caring at this point.”

Chloe sat up, her face serious. “Y/N, listen to me. You cannot let him see you sweat. If he wants to keep his options open, fine. Let him. But you need to act like you couldn’t care less about him or Sophia.”

Y/N frowned. “Easier said than done. I don’t know if I can just switch off how I feel.”

“You don’t have to switch it off,” Chloe said, her tone firm but encouraging. “You just have to fake it for now. Trust me, guys like Harry hate feeling like they don’t have control. If you act unbothered, it’ll throw him off completely. And in the meantime, you’ll give yourself space to figure out what you actually want.”

“Chloe, handing out advice like smoothies. And she’s not wrong. Nothing shakes a lad like a girl who’s unbothered.”

Y/N bit her lip, considering Chloe’s words. “So, what? Just pretend like I don’t care?”

Chloe nodded. “Exactly. Smile, laugh, chat with everyone else, and don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset. Time will do the rest.”

A small smile broke through Y/N’s conflicted expression. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” Chloe admitted with a grin. “You’ve got this.”

Y/N took a deep breath, the weight on her chest feeling slightly lighter. “Alright. Let’s see how unbothered I can be.”

Chloe laughed, nudging her playfully. “That’s the spirit. Now, how about we reward ourselves with a smoothie?”

Harry stood at the kitchen counter, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. The morning sun streamed through the villa’s glass doors, casting a warm glow over the open-plan space. Lucas joined him, rubbing sleep from his eyes and grabbing a mug from the cupboard.

“Nothing like a cuppa first thing,” Lucas muttered, pouring hot water into his mug. He turned, leaning against the counter, and nodded toward the terrace where Y/N and Chloe were mid-stretch, their workout mats rolled out on the tiled floor. “Well, they’re looking pretty good this morning, aren’t they?”

Harry chuckled, taking a sip of his tea. “Yeah, they’re putting in the work, that’s for sure.”

Lucas tilted his head, watching Chloe as she effortlessly moved through a set of lunges. “Chloe’s got some legs on her, mate. Proper strong. Bet she could kick a ball further than me.”

Harry snorted. “Wouldn’t be hard. Your kick’s shocking.”

Lucas smirked but didn’t argue, his eyes still on Chloe. “Fair play, though. She’s got this, like, natural confidence about her. Proper attractive, you know?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, hiding a grin behind his mug. “You’ve got it bad, haven’t you?”

“What can I say?” Lucas replied with a shrug, setting his mug down. “Anyway, enough about me. Did you sort things out with Y/N last night?”

Harry’s smile faltered, and he stared into his tea as if the answers might be swirling in the cup. “We talked,” he said slowly.

Lucas’s eyebrows shot up. “And? What happened?”

“She’s not happy, mate,” Harry admitted, leaning against the counter. “Asked me straight up if I liked Sophia. Told her I wanted to keep my options open.”

Lucas groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, Harry. Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” Harry said defensively. “I don’t want to lead her on if I’m not sure.”

“Right, but you’re not exactly making it easy for yourself, are you?” Lucas countered. “Y/N’s not the type to just sit around and wait for you to make up your mind. If anything, she’ll use this as fuel to move on.”

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. Chloe’s probably in her ear right now, telling her to forget about me.”

Lucas glanced back at the terrace, where Chloe and Y/N were laughing between stretches. “If she’s smart, she’ll listen. Chloe doesn’t mess about.”

Harry’s jaw tightened as he looked out at Y/N. She was glowing in the morning light, her hair pulled back and her smile wide as she joked with Chloe. “I just… I don’t know what to do, mate. I like her, but Sophia… she’s got this vibe, you know? Makes me wonder what else is out there.”

Lucas shook his head. “You’re playing with fire. If you’re not careful, you’re going to lose Y/N and not even get a chance with Sophia. Girls talk, mate. And no one likes a bloke who can’t make up his mind.”

Harry didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on Y/N as she stretched her arms above her head. The thought of her pulling away, of her laughter directed at someone else, left a sour taste in his mouth. He took another sip of tea, trying to shake the feeling.

“You’ve got to figure it out, Harry,” Lucas said, his tone serious. “Because right now, you’re playing a game you might not win.”

The sun blazed down on the villa as the Islanders gathered on the lawn, coffee cups in hand and nerves bubbling under the surface. In the center of the garden stood a brightly colored spinning wheel, its glossy paint glinting in the sunlight like a harbinger of chaos. The air hummed with a mix of anticipation and dread.

Y/N adjusted her sunglasses, leaning back lazily as Chloe leaned closer.

“I’m telling you now, this game is going to start World War Three,” Chloe muttered, her tone low but laced with amusement.

Y/N let out a small laugh, though her stomach was already knotting. Across the lawn, Harry was lounging on the beanbags, his body sprawled out casually as Sophia leaned in close, whispering something in his ear that made him grin.

“It’s 10 a.m., and the Islanders are already sweating. Not from the heat, though—oh no. This morning, we’ve gifted them a little something we like to call Lips Don’t Lie. Because nothing says ‘good morning’ like breaking hearts before brunch!”

“Here’s the deal: spin the wheel, land on ‘Snog,’ ‘Spill,’ or ‘Steal.’ Kiss someone, confess your darkest secret, or swipe a kiss from another Islander’s partner. Oh, and there’s a lovely stack of truths in those envelopes, just in case things weren’t messy enough.”

“Alright, Y/N,” Lucas called out with a cheeky grin. “You’re up first!”

The group erupted into chants, and Y/N stood, her shoulders squared as she approached the wheel. The handle felt cold under her fingertips as she spun it sharply, the clattering sound making her heart race.

It landed on ‘Spill.’

“Easy one to start with,” Chloe teased.

Lucas, practically vibrating with excitement, grabbed an envelope. “Alright, Y/N,” he said, his grin devilish. “If you had to recouple with someone other than Harry, who would it be?”

The crowd fell silent, all eyes on Y/N. She felt Harry’s gaze burning into her, but she kept her expression cool.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, dragging it out. “Hmm… Lucas,” she said finally, turning to him with a sly smile. “You always know how to make me laugh.”

Laughter rippled through the group as Lucas dramatically clutched his chest. “My dream finally comes true.”

“Y/N keeping it light and breezy. But don’t worry, Harry—Lucas is just here for the bants. Or is he?”

Harry’s jaw clenched, his mug of tea now forgotten on the table beside him.

“Your turn, mate!” Callum called, his grin wide.

Harry stood, brushing off invisible lint from his shorts before giving the wheel a forceful spin. When it landed on ‘Snog,’ the group erupted with cheers and whistles.

Sophia’s eyes lit up before Harry even moved. Without a moment’s hesitation, he crossed the garden and kissed her, slow enough to make the others holler in delight.

Y/N felt Chloe nudge her hard. “Don’t react,” Chloe hissed. “He’s doing it to get a rise out of you.”

Y/N tilted her head, feigning indifference. “Couldn’t care less,” she said smoothly, though her nails dug into her palms.

“Oh, Harry. If this were chess, you’d be playing checkers. Y/N? Ice cold.”

Sophia’s turn was next, and the wheel landed on ‘Spill.’ She sauntered over to the stack of envelopes, picking one like it held her winning lottery numbers.

Tom read aloud, “Sophia, who do you think is your biggest competition in the villa?”

Sophia smirked, her gaze drifting lazily over the girls before landing squarely on Y/N.

“Y/N,” she said confidently. “She’s stunning, and, let’s face it, everyone seems to fancy her.”

The group erupted with laughter and gasps, while Y/N shot Sophia a sweet, unfazed smile. “Aw, thanks, babe,” she said lightly.

“Sophia, dishing out backhanded compliments like cocktails. But let’s be honest, she’s right. Y/N’s still the main event.”

Max spun the wheel next, landing on ‘Snog.’ Without missing a beat, he turned to Y/N. “Sorry, Harry,” he said with a mischievous grin before kissing her, lingering just long enough to turn the group rowdy.

When Y/N sat back down, Chloe clapped her on the back. “Legend.”

Harry’s expression didn’t flinch, but his eyes burned into Y/N’s as she casually sipped her water.

Finally, Tom pulled an envelope from the truth pile, holding it up dramatically. “Time for a big one!” he announced.

The group quieted as Tom read aloud, “One Islander confessed: ‘I still think about kissing Y/N.’”

The garden froze.

Amber’s mouth dropped. “Who said that?!”

The boys erupted into teasing accusations, whistles flying as Lucas turned to Harry with a smirk. “C’mon, mate. You’ve got guilty written all over your face.”

Harry’s jaw tightened as he glared at Lucas. “Didn’t hear my name, did you?”

“Oh, Harry. Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, and your face says it all.”

Chloe leaned into Y/N’s ear, whispering, “You’ve got him rattled.”

Y/N shrugged, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Not my problem.”

“Whew, what a morning! Secrets revealed, kisses stolen, and Harry’s mood hitting boiling point. And we haven’t even had lunch yet. Buckle up, folks—this villa’s about to erupt.”

The villa was quiet after the chaos of the game, with most of the Islanders scattered in their own corners, trying to digest the truths and dares that had been laid bare. Y/N was perched on the edge of the terrace, her foot tapping against the ground as her mind replayed every moment of the game—Harry’s snog with Sophia, the truth bomb about someone still thinking of kissing her, and the way Harry’s eyes had burned into her the entire time.

She heard footsteps approaching and sighed. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Not now, Harry,” she muttered, her tone tired but edged with annoyance.

“Yeah, well, I think now’s the perfect time,” Harry said, his voice low but charged. He moved closer, stopping just a step behind her.

Y/N whipped around, her frustration spilling over. “What do you want, Harry? Haven’t you had enough fun for one day?”

His jaw tensed. “I came to talk because clearly, we need to. But if you’re going to start throwing digs, I can walk right back out.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” she shot back, crossing her arms. “Do you want a medal for gracing me with your presence after ignoring me all day? Or is this just damage control because you know how bad you looked out there?”

Harry’s brows knitted together, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re acting like I’m the only one who played the game! What about you? Max kissed you, and you didn’t seem too bothered about that.”

“Don’t you dare,” Y/N said, stepping closer as her voice dropped dangerously. “Max kissed me because you made it very clear where you stand today. I didn’t ask for it, but I wasn’t about to stop him just to protect your fragile ego.”

“Fragile ego?” Harry repeated, his voice rising. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re the one who’s been sulking and throwing me daggers all day, acting like I’ve done something unforgivable when all I did was follow the rules of a stupid game!”

“Stupid game?” she fired back, her tone cutting. “So kissing Sophia—grabbing her like you couldn’t wait to get your hands on her—that was just for the rules? Funny how you didn’t hesitate even for a second.”

Harry took a step closer, their faces now inches apart. “And what about you, huh? Smiling and laughing with Max like you were enjoying every second of it? Don’t act like you’re above playing games, Y/N.”

Her heart was pounding, her anger mixing with something else entirely—something she didn’t want to name. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t want to play any games. I just wanted to feel like you cared. Like I wasn’t just… replaceable.”

Harry’s expression softened for a moment, but the tension between them was still thick. “You’re not replaceable,” he said, his voice quieter but no less intense. “You think I don’t care about you? I can’t even look at you without losing my head, Y/N. And yeah, I messed up today, but don’t for a second think that means I don’t want you.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “Then why—”

Before she could finish, Harry reached out, cupping her face in his hands and pulling her into a kiss. It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was full of all the anger, frustration, and desire that had been constructing between them.

For a second, she resisted, her hands pushing lightly against his chest, but then she gave in, gripping his shirt as she kissed him back with equal intensity.

The world seemed to blur around them, the only sounds their ragged breaths and the faint hum of the villa in the distance. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard, their foreheads resting against each other.

“That’s why,” Harry said, his voice rough.

Y/N swallowed, her emotions a whirlwind. “This doesn’t fix anything,” she whispered, though her hands were still clutching his shirt.

“I know,” he replied, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “But it’s the truth.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his. “Then prove it, Harry. Because I’m not doing this halfway.”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “I will.”

As the distant chatter of the other Islanders drifted toward them, Y/N stepped back, her walls slowly rebuilding. “Good,” she said quietly before turning and walking back inside, leaving Harry standing there, watching her go.

“Well, if we were playing ‘Lips Don’t Lie,’ those two just failed spectacularly. But will Harry make good on his promise, or is Y/N setting herself up for more heartbreak? Stay tuned, folks. It’s about to get messy.”

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[holylulusworld]

A shattered Dream

Summary: It was all fake.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Wife!Reader

Characters: Nick Fowler

Warnings: angst, betrayal, lies, deceit

Everything was perfect. You had a fulfilling job, a beautiful home, and were married to the love of your life. Until. One day. You found out the truth, shattering your dream.

It was a coincidence. Nothing else.

If you had stayed at the conference and hadn’t booked an earlier flight, you’d never know the origin of your relationship with Ransom.

One moment you sneaked into your house to surprise your husband, and the next, your heart shattered, and you looked at the broken shards lying on the ground.

It was another busy day. You just came back from a conference; you're happy that you made it back home a day earlier. Ecstatic to tell your husband about the conference and the surprise you have for him, you smiled the whole drive to your home.

When the house you and Ransom call home finally comes into sight, you sigh. It’s been a long week filled with workload, meetings, and too much socializing. Your social battery is empty, and you want to recharge in your husband’s arms.

“Home, sweet home,” you murmur, rubbing your tired eyes after you killed the engine. You’d call Ransom to ask him to help you with your luggage, but you want to surprise your husband.

Instead of calling him or honking, you get out of the car, silently unlock the front door, and sneak into your house. You can hear Ransom talk to someone, recognizing his best friend’s voice.

Grinning, you sneak upstairs to scare the shit out of both of them. Nick, Ransom’s best friend, likes to prank people, and tonight, you’ll pay back the favor.

You’re about to burst into the room when you hear your name. Your hand is already on the doorknob, but you want to hear what your husband has to say about you while you’re away.

They laugh about something, and then you can hear Nick’s voice.

“I’m telling you; all this dating crap is exhausting. I want what you and Y/N have. Everything looks so easy. How do you do it? Your wife is perfect.”

You press one hand to your heart. You never thought Nick Fowler, the eternal womanizer, would wish to have a relationship and that he believes you’re perfect. He never so much as recognized your very existence.

Waiting for Ransom’s reply, you press your ear to the door. He scoffs and says, “My marriage is not as perfect as it seems.”

He’s not wrong. Once in a while, you fight or struggle with Ransom’s flaws. Still, it hurts hearing him talk like that about you.

“You’ve got no clue how it feels to be in a relationship you don’t want. I’m trapped with a woman I don’t love. She doesn’t even turn me on. It’s for the future children, nothing else. A fake.”

It feels like someone pulled the rug from under your feet. You gasp and wrap your arms around your middle. All the sweet memories from your relationship with Ransom flash up in your mind, playing on repeat like a bad rom-com. Now they leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

“What are you talking about, Ran?” Nick sounds as shocked as you are. “She’s a wonderful woman, and you look so happy. Don’t give me that crap to mess with me. I’m trapped in my single life.”

“I know exactly how it feels to be trapped. I’m stuck in an arranged marriage,” Ransom huffs and drops his eyes to his hand and the wedding band around his finger. “My grandfather forced me to marry and settle down. I did it for my inheritance and to get the company one day.”

“Whoa, whoa… Slow down, Ran,” Nick gasps audibly. Until now, he believed you and Ransom had the perfect marriage and loved each other. ”What do you mean? Ransom, don’t fuck with me.”

Ransom sighs deeply. He pours himself another drink and takes a large sip.

“None of the girls I dated appeased my grandfather. He wanted someone more…classy…and smart. I told him that, if he doesn’t want me to date a greedy and brainless gold-digger, he must find me something fulfilling his high standards.”

Your eyes widen hearing Ransom tell his friend that your first meeting with him years back was no coincidence. Back then, you were an intern at Harlan’s company, and you accidentally ran into Ransom—or rather, he bumped into you and spilled his coffee all over your blouse.

“Ran, do not tell me you spent the last three years married to a woman you don’t love!” Nick’s outburst surprises you. “How could you? Does she know about all this?”

“No.” Ransom has the decency to sound apologetic. “She has no clue. I wanted to tell her, but…” He sighs and takes another sip from his drink. “It was never the right time.”

“You have been married to Y/N for three years, and it never occurred to you that you should tell her the truth! You wasted three years of her life because of a fucking inheritance?”

You have heard enough. There’s no coming back from hearing the truth about what you believed was a life-changing moment. Ransom staged your meet-cute and lied to you for as long as you've known him. Whatever reason he had to get with you, it doesn’t excuse that he’s a lying piece of shit.

Stepping away from the door, you slowly slide your rings down your finger, carelessly dropping them to the ground. You turn around, walking away with your head held high.

Ransom will find your rings on the ground hours later. He knows that he fucked up everything good in his life when only three days later the divorce papers get delivered to his house…

[errorcode-33]

'only friends'

Yuuji x reader

NSFW fem!reader // friend!Yuuji

warnings; a lot of making out, kinda slow-ish, reader is a bit of a hoe and is kinda toxic? (not towards Yuuji), a bit ooc maybe? reader and Yuuji's relationship is complicated (more than friends but not dating kinda situation), kinda romantic surprisingly?, pre-JJT Yuuji, not a lot of dialogue, smut obviously, I think that's all?

Note; I love this trope.

Enjoy~

You were close with Yuuji, very close, friends since middle school who went to the same high school and remained friends even then. You knew practically everything about each other, favourite things, places, hopes, dreams, he knew all your (ex)boyfriends, their favourite things, the shit you did and why things ended. He knew almost everything about you, and you knew almost everything about him.

He was there when you broke up with them, listening to your complaints about how 'none of them were all that anyway' as you'd paint your nails on his bed, hair up messily in a claw clip wearing an oversized shirt you racked from your ex before you left, which he knows was his coz he's seen him wear it before, and that didn't bother him. Afterall, it fit you better anyway, so who cares? Might as well take something out of those train wreck relationships of yours.

He was never really bothered by the way you never seemed to care about your breakups. If it didn't bother you then why should it bother him? If anything he's happy you're not upset! He'd hate to know that some guy upset you, so he was only happy to sit and listen about you casually gossip with him and trash on your exes. Not that it was anything new, since you were best friends it's only natural you'd tell him all the drama live right? So most things weren't new to him.

So as you'd sit and paint weird new patterns on your nails and discuss (read; shit talk) you're previous men to him he'd find it hard to not think about how pretty you looked even when you didn't try to, wondering if any of you asshole exes ever got to see this side of you. And to him you were just so... great. Even when you'd tell him how gaslit your ex into thinking he was overreacting when you'd come home wasted after a party that you lied to him about not attending, and he'd defend you till the day he dies. Afterall, you did nothing wrong, it's not like you were out doing anything at the party, he was there he'd know!

In his eyes you could do no wrong.

When he finally breaks out of his trance, it's from the way you fall back on the bed with a sigh, patting the spot next to you which he promptly takes. You turn to your side, facing him as your eyes flick over his face, barely inches away from his and he calls you pretty, to which you let out a small laugh, shooting him a soft smile.

"Oh Yuuji~ such a flatterer you are"

But he means it, and he means it even more when he sees the way your eyes look through your lashes when your hand comes up to gently hold his jaw and they briefly flick down to his lips before meeting his again, that killer smile of yours never leaving.

He feels the way his heart skips a beat, but thinks nothing of it. It's always been that way, every time you stayed the night eventually the night would come to a peaceful close, a kind of serenity that envelopes the world when the has set long enough ago.

It doesn't bother him at all when after a moment you lean in, softly pressing your lips to his, arm almost instinctively wrapping around your waist to slightly pull you in. He's no stranger to the feeling of your lips against his, the slow, gentle motions coming with a practiced ease that's become second nature to him.

Your hand slides down to his shoulder, fingers gliding over his shirt as your lips continue their soft movements. There is not rush behind your actions, as if you've got all the time in the world for this, and perhaps in a way you do. It's not like there's anyone to stop you.

Your tongue slips along his bottom lip and he meets it with his own, hand moving up to cup the side of his face as he leans over you slightly, not yet quite on top of you. Yours slide down his upper arms and down his torso to slip slightly under his shirt, gliding over his sides.

He takes it as a sign to toss it completely, lifting off of you only long enough to leave him shirtless before his lips are right back on yours and his hands are at your hips, shifting you slightly so you're finally under him and he's slightly pressed onto you, enough for you to feel the bulge in his sweatpants press against you.

He groans softly against your lips when your hands feel him up, fingers moving up his stomach to his chest, to then find their way on the back of his neck, earning you a small shudder, which goes completely unnoticed by Yuuji as his hands shift your thighs slightly more apart to move closer to you, not just because of the growing tension in his pants, but because he wants to be closer to you.

His hands move smoothly up your thighs to grab your ass and you don't even think to stop him, you've known him long enough to know what he's into, and though he'd probably never objectify you so much as to bring you down to just a nice ass to grope, you know he enjoys it by the way he subconsciously shifts against you.

Your hands move down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and discarding it to reveal your upper body and he wastes no time to lean into your neck, lips making sloppy movements against your skin. You hum, hands tangling in his hair and he groans again, this time slightly louder.

"f-fuck..."

And he's right back at it, lips pressed back to your collarbone as one of his hands moves to slip into your shorts, fingers finding your clit and you sigh. He's always been good at this, not because he's naturally great or whatever the guys you've dated seemed to think, but because he listens.

You groan when his fingers enter you, hands tightening in his hair slightly and he moans, breaths turning heavier at the feeling of your wetness.

It doesn't take long until you're slipping off your panties and he's fumbling with the waistband of his pants and boxers, cheeks flushing slightly as he pushes the fabric down and off his thighs.

"god- you're so pretty"

And all you can really do is giggle at how cute he is, even now as his tip brushes your entrance all he can think about is just how amazing you are.

"am I?"

Your purr sends a shiver down his spine, and the way your arms wrap around his neck and you gaze up at him with your lips curved up and a slight smile makes him twitch against you.

"so pretty- fuck- and smart, and talented, and you're nice and-"

He's babbling and it's cute, though some things may not be exactly accurate you let it slide coz it's him and you could never be mad for long.

His tip pushes past your entrance as his hands move to hold onto your waist, fingers gripping it slightly as his composure falters. You let out a hum, pressing your lips to his briefly and he lets out a sigh, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as he returns the gesture, hand coming up to hold the side of your face as he pushes into you.

It's slow, he knows he's not small so he's always extra careful even if you literally tell him it's fine, he'll still be cautious. You like that about him.

You pull away from his lips to look up at him, eyes flicking over his flushed face as he catches his breath, chest heaving and you catch the way his eyes close and his head falls to your shoulder when he bottoms out.

He lets a groan slip, and you can feel him throb inside you as your hand moves over his bare shoulder. He doesn't stay still for long, hips drawing away slightly before pressing back in, revelling in the way your warmth and wetness coats and envelopes him.

You drag your hands down his back and he shudders, letting out a small moan of your name as he feels you tighten slightly around him. You let your head fall back against the pillow with a sigh, closing your eyes at the feeling of him moving inside you.

It's good, really good, and it only gets better when his hand snakes between your bodies and his thumb moves to circle your clit, lips pressing to the side of your jaw.

He hets out a moan when he feels you tighten around him, breath becoming more ragged and movements less precise as he tries to keep it in, but the way your hands grip his hair doesn't make it easy.

"fuck-"

You groan, and that does it for him, he pulls out, dick twitching as ropes of white spill against the skin of your lower stomach. He shifts his gaze away from it with a slight blush, but you don't give him much time to be bashful as you cup his face and press his lips to yours.

He sighs against your mouth and matches your movements, before mumbling a soft promise that he'll make it up to you.

And you smile, knowing that he will.

Masterlist.

Requests are open!

[skay-ali]

The sacrifice of a poor soul

Well, maybe the whole family won't appear yet, but I want to give the reader a little development in this chapter. I think their entire dynamic is explained in this one. So, in the following ones, there will be more interaction and more story related to the comics and movies.

0 1

Oh innocent soul

Oh withered flower

While you continue to wait with hope

Your loved ones sharpen their spears to stab you

And watch you bleed to death

Ever since you became self-aware, you knew one thing very well.

You were in a big world and you were just a little girl, but that wasn't the problem, well, not the one affecting you this time...

You hated yourself.

You didn't feel much love for who you were, your life, your appearance.

You thought that at some point there would be something better, and you waited for it with open arms.

You were on autopilot, oblivious to the time you wasted being capricious, hating yourself with every fiber of your being.

You didn't think of yourself as pretty or nice; you only saw a reflection in the mirror, a horrible one, one that reflected an insect, a freak.

Then you met him, the most handsome boy, an ethereal beauty, who was very kind, funny, and nice to you. It was like a dream. He was an angel, somewhat ironic because the day you met, when your eyes met for the first time, that boy was dressed like an angel: a baggy shirt with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing his abdomen, also white pants, and wings with thin, fluffy feathers sticking out of his back.

He smiled at you, leaving a conversation with his friends who couldn't stop talking among themselves, pushing each other, and laughing.

But it only took a few minutes for you to reconsider. He was a radiant star in a sea of ​​​​little lights and dull stones, where you belonged. Ha, why would he smile at you?

You smiled, but not in response to the boy. No, tonight was your night. You wore a lot of makeup and a good costume. You were a total loser at this point, so you'd let go of your fears and enjoy the party, or try to, before running home scared.

And minutes later, fate believed it was time for your canonical event.

You met that boy dressed as an angel. What you thought was a one-night stand and flirtation turned into a friendship at school, and later into a relationship.

You were truly happy. You no longer looked in the mirror and saw every little imperfection.

You were no longer unhappy at home, no longer so alone. You had someone who truly cared about you.

For a socially marginalized girl, in her daily life and at home, reserved, introverted, difficult to understand. It was a dream, something wonderful.

A dream that later turned into a nightmare, and then you wished you'd never met this boy... he wasn't an angel, he was just a disguise.

"They say they cut out his heart while he was still breathing."

"Only a deranged mind could have done it."

It was the talk of the school; his death was shocking.

"I think he deserved it."

"Did you know the kind of person he really was? He deserves it."

You sighed, locked in the large closet in your room.

What did you do?

What a monster you've become!

"Get up, subject, we have a plan to put into action."

You turned a deaf ear to his words.

Your body didn't want to move, to leave your comfortable, warm state inside the darkness of your closet.

Curled into a ball, tormented by all your actions.

"How many people now? Ten people," you said in a weak, soft voice.

"Fuck, I ate my ex, his heart, and... I ended him." Your voice cracked.

"I truly loved him."

"And... and he gave me love, he gave me attention, happiness."

"Is that so? Don't forget what he did to you."

You froze.

Your sadness wavered.

"I'll break up with you at the concert and leave you alone at the concert."

His voice was mesmerizing; you couldn't turn a deaf ear, ignore it, or refuse to believe it.

His words were true, undeniable.

"He was the one who left you vulnerable to being kidnapped."

"He left you just like your family."

"Oh, come on. Now they're going to be mentioned too."

You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, comforting yourself.

"Don't you see how devastated I am... why do you insist on making me suffer?" you sobbed sadly.

"I, I make you suffer, react, silly human."

His voice was now cynical, no longer holding any playfulness.

"None of them care about you, not your dear deceased love, not your family, not your friends, no one."

"Your true love, as you always mention in your head, made you suffer until the very end, even if you try to justify it."

"Your family, you were always the last person on their list. Not even they, with their great role as heroes, saved you."

"No one protected you from me, a demon, or from being sacrificed."

"I am all you have, the one who gave you another chance."

"Stop feeling sorry for them and think more about yourself."

"My first subject, one of the few survivors of my new world."

Harsh, cold words.

You stared at your food, with no appetite for the contents of the plate.

It was too sweet for you, but not in the way that it was something super delicious and after a few bites you couldn't eat anything else.

It was more like something unappetizing, a sour taste running down your throat every time you looked at the contents.

You felt full just looking at it, as if you'd just tasted something more delicious.

You played with your food, your fork moving from one side to the other, scattering food across the plate.

You felt lost, so out of yourself.

You were no longer able to recognize why you kept moving.

Why were you still alive?

It was silly to say, but the only person who had ever understood you, made you happy, the only one who stayed, made you feel loved... was gone.

You didn't have friends to keep you company in your free time or to be there for you in insignificant moments, people to talk to, laugh with, share profound things with, and have fun doing fun things with. You were alone, with no one to talk to.

You didn't have any family, it was cruel to say, difficult to acknowledge after so much time.

But you never had any family after your grandmother died.

Your mother was long gone, and some time later, your last caregiver, whom you loved so much, left... You were surrounded by serious, cold, emotionless faces.

Strangers who didn't see you as anything more than a passing presence.

"So I decided to skip school."

"I had a great role in the new play."

"I was lucky enough to buy one of the new unlimited series that were released."

"It was a difficult case, one that kept the whole department busy, but I managed to solve it."

"I got the perfect movie for our next movie day."

You didn't pay attention to the distant voices; it was probably a small meeting before dinner.

The loud thoughts screaming in your head were too powerful for you to focus on anything else.

The butler was still in the room, watching you eat.

Waiting for you to devour your plate, thank him, exchange a few words, and finally, disappear until the next meal.

That reminded you of when you were still a child, your grandmother watching you, convincing you to eat, always with a smile and a kind voice.

How she would give you a sweet after you finished your plate, how you would devour it on the house's old wooden porch, where you would watch the birds, the cars, and the people passing by.

You no longer had that happy moment where she would tell you little stories, stories that bore no resemblance to the ones you knew, but which you loved to hear, leaning on her lap, feeling the fabric of her skirt on your head.

She combed your hair, carefully, causing you to tingle and feel relaxed and calm.

You missed your mother's warmth, her smile, her warm touch, the time you spent together, the jokes you told, the silly things you shared every time she drove, her concern every time something changed in you.

She knew it instantly and was there with open arms, ready to wait for you.

You missed your home and the thousands of memories you had.

You missed the food cooked by the two women you loved most in your life.

Even... with their presence... with their cooking... you wouldn't have eaten it.

No, you couldn't, because now you were a monster... you were a horrible being, at the mercy of others just to keep breathing.

You pushed the plate away from your sight with trembling hands.

You looked down at the table.

How you wished it was all a dream and that you could wake up on your grandmother's lap, her waiting for you to get up to make dinner until your mother returned from shopping.

Please...

Please...

I don't want this nightmare...

You didn't stop begging.

But everything remained the same: the dining room, the dinner plate, the empty room, cold, devoid of familiarity and feelings.

You watched reluctantly.

Your gaze met the demon that was possessing you and slowly destroying you.

He only smiled, a sinister smile, full of hidden intentions.

He had the power, even though he was a small creature, a rare kind of black cat, with fangs, an arrow-tipped tail, and horns instead of ears.

Tim was exhausted.

He'd spent many days investigating his last case, adding his missions with his team and his work as a civilian at Wayne Company.

It had been an exhausting week.

Now all he needed was a little rest and a good meal for dinner.

The house had been empty since his brothers and their father had left a few hours earlier.

Alfred was in the laundry room, he deduced as much when he remembered the man carrying a basket of dirty clothes.

Then what he saw as he passed by the living room surprised him.

It was you, his sister, the one who didn't fight or take justice seriously, the quiet and strange girl in the family.

But it wasn't your presence that surprised him; it was the state you were in.

As if it were a horror movie.

You were hunched over the table, staring into space, concentrating your gaze on a single point, your long hair covering almost a large part of your face.

A gloomy air seemed to surround you; worse, you were alone, and you showed no signs of moving...

how long had you been in that state?

Before he knew it, you were already standing up, still hunched over, at a slow pace.

He watched as you left the dining room, appearing mesmerized as you continued on your way.

Curiosity was piqued.

Now what the hell was happening to you?

What are you up to?

Then he heard the front door open, slow footsteps, and the sound of the large door closing.

Now he didn't know if he should worry...

You had lost your boyfriend; that must have affected you, even if it wasn't a big enough deal to drive you crazy...

A little drama of yours, maybe...

Oh, actually, you were in trouble...

"Where are we going?" you asked with curiosity and fear.

"Ahgg, you're becoming more and more disappointing and pathetic."

"I can't let this continue."

Nervous was too small a word to describe what you felt.

You were walking down an unknown, dark path, full of danger, without a weapon or anyone to protect you, blindly following a demon.

A long walk led you to an abandoned building. Where many dangerous-looking men crowded the area.

Their gazes fixed on you, burning your body, displaying malicious smiles, swearing as compliments, and warnings about what they were planning to do to you.

You swallowed in fear.

"No... I don't think we should be in this place."

"Damn, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you."

The little demon continued walking through the halls of the building, already annoyed by your cowardly and soft behavior. He didn't think that this behavior of yours would be a great impediment to his plans.

Because you can't be the same as the wild, sadistic, revenge-seeking girl you were the last two times.

That's why he brought you to this place.

The small pit of sin created by one of his former acquaintances who managed to get out of hell before him.

"Oh, it's you. I'm surprised to see you, especially with that appearance."

"Yes, yes, yes, save your words," he said reluctantly.

"ahaha you never change no"

Ignoring his words, he decided to continue with his plan. "Look, I didn't come here for a good meeting. Right now, I need this follower excuse to become stronger and less whiny."

"Oh, so you got a human?"

"Is there anything wrong with that?" he asked, no longer willing to put up with the annoying guy.

"Hey, calm down. I just think it's funny. You're a high-level demon, one of the favorites with a human."

"Haha, I think it's really funny. I even think it confirms the rumors."

The commotion stopped when a scream of intense pain was heard.

The demon only angrily moved his elongated tail away from the human-like demon's chest, who fell to the ground and tried to stay steady.

"Do you still believe those rumors?" he asked reluctantly.

Receiving nothing but a scared look, he walked away and returned to his human, who was distractedly staring at the large ring where two men were fighting.

"If you don't mind, I'll borrow your fighting space."

A massive punch came at your face. You luckily dodged it, but immediately another punch came at your body. You couldn't dodge it, and it hit you with great force.

A sharp pain ran through your body. A clean blow to your stomach knocked the wind out of you, leaving you sprawled on the floor, writhing.

"Get up and continue," the demon ordered.

You didn't; you tried to recover from the pain, but a kick landed directly in your stomach, knocking you a few feet from where you were lying.

The pain intensified.

With little strength, you tried to get up.

Muscular arms lifted you up and threw you to the other side of the ring.

You collided with a post, a very hard object that impacted your back, leaving your bones in severe pain.

You held onto the ropes that extended from the post to those next to you.

You needed to get out; you couldn't shovel.

"No... I can't," you cried, scared. Those blows were horrible.You didn't want to continue this crazy excursion.

"Get me out," you cried desperately.

"keep fighting ____"

Seeing the demon's refusal and no one from the cheering, screaming crowd tried to save you.

You pulled up the laces holding you up to throw you to the floor.

They grabbed your feet, a great force knocking you to the ground.

Your chest hit the floor hard, and your knees also took a heavy hit.

You tried to crawl, but the hands from before held you tight.

"Please stop... I give up," you begged again and again. It was your last way out. You received no response; the blows continued.

You ended up on the floor, trying to regain consciousness. Despite the pain, you tried to move.

This was a nightmare. You were feeling intense pain, just like that day...

That day, where everything changed, that day where thousands of stab wounds pierced your skin.

You looked at your skin, at your arms that must have had scars. There was nothing, it was smooth skin without imperfections. You were painfully aware that this torture wouldn't end quickly. Your body was healed despite the pain. You were sure that when you recovered, the blows would return.

You cried in helplessness, knowing what was next.

"Stop crying, that's why you're on stage."

"You were a coward, and I don't need a coward."

"I can't," you cried, frustrated.

"I can't do it, you should have thought of that."

"Ahhhhh," you were so angry.

Everyone wanted to see you in distress. The voices cheered and filled with joy.

No one ran to your aid, didn't they care? They only enjoyed your sacrifice.

They only used you.

They were destroying you.

Suddenly, something clicked.

You saw the blood on the floor, your blood coming out of your mouth and nose.

You were filled with rage.

At first, this demon forced you to do terrible things.

They wouldn't let you be miserable.

Your family is still the same shit as always.

Your damn friends are still top-notch hypocrites.

Everyone wants you dead.

They're thinking of sacrificing yourself again...

They want to kill you again...

You slammed your fists hard on the floor.

They turned red, and the pain made you stand up.

Carefully, still in pain, but with great anger and determination, you stood up.

You walked carefully toward where the woman you'd fought was strutting.

You grabbed one of her shoulders. With a strength you didn't know you possessed, you threw her across the room.

When the woman reacted, you prepared your fist and slammed it hard into her stomach, causing her to spit and gasp for air.

The screams peaked again. The smell of blood and sweat grew stronger, as did the alcohol.

The woman recovered again, but you were already ready, waiting for her attack.

You wouldn't dodge it; you would receive it and take advantage of it to take the woman with you.

You tasted the blood in your mouth with every blow.

There were blows, punches, kicks, intense lights on the stage, fierce screams, splattered blood.

"Haha, that's what I'm talking about, girl."

"Sniff... I'm so proud."

You regained control and threw the woman to the floor.

And with a great surge, your hand flew to her face before she could get up.

This left the woman lying on the floor.

A few minutes passed, and she didn't move.

Then everyone celebrated.

You had won.

It was a shame you couldn't end your feast another way.

"Wow, looks like we have a new threat in Gotham."

"Oh, a new partner."

"I don't think it's just Gotham that needs to be careful."

"Did you record it?"

"Yeah, dude, I did it. This will make us a lot of money," he smiled.

"Oh, wait until we make it public, it'll explode." He was very excited about his new content.

"Hey, kids, I told you, get out of this place."

The two teenagers ran away when the guards recognized them.

Wow, I just got back to my apartment, back to college, in a city a few hours away from home... and I feel like shit. Not even my adorable little four-legged companion helps me stop and forget about feeling miserable... damn, I miss my home and my family... It's even more damn now I think about all the bad things that can happen to my little company while I'm gone... I'm in a spiral...

[eveningspirit]

If Trinity and Frank are indeed the same, why did I connect with Frank so hard, while Trinity is only the character I appreciate? I've been wondering about it from the beginning of the show, because Trinity definitely has some of the characteristics that make me go *.*

And yet..

It's not a gender thing, I analyzed it back and forth, left and right and in all other directions for a long time. I freely admit, that I haven't yet come across a female character that I would feel as strongly as I do about many male characters (the closest comes La'An Noonien-Singh from Star Trek: SNW). However, I chalk it mostly to the fact that well-writtem female characters are a relatively new concept.

BTW, it has to be said that The Pitt has so many fantastic and multidimentional female characters.

About Trinity, though. And Frank

--and why he has my whole heart mind, while she doesn't.

I think it's a matter of masking. They are the same at the core, yes. Both ambitious, both proud and both seeking connection and approval. And both deeply hurt, to the point where they have to hide parts of themselves behind A Mask.

They go about it in very different ways, I think.

Frank tricked everyone (including me) with how competent and strong and yappy--and happy--he is. It's the surface, the projection.

Trinity, meanwhile, is abbrasive, she doesn't try to make people like her, quite on the contrary. Oh, she wants to be liked, just as Frank does. She soaks up Garcia's niceness like a flower in the drought. But she's not going to try extra hard. She doesn't trust people and she doesn't want to trust people, she can saunter through life all on her own, thank you very much (this is a lie).

Whereas Frank... Frank asks Robby, "Are we still friends?" Frank clocks a *sunshine* newcommer and (it's important) a resident, who will most likely stay in this ED. He gets out of his way to befriend her. He tries to impress an MS4, who may potentially end up in this ED, but then, he may not, so he doesn't put in much effort. And he is professional, but nothing beyond that, toward an MS3, who, most likely, he won't meet again after her rotation here is over in three-to-four weeks (or a couple months? I'm not sure how long student rotation is.).

Frank needs to have people around him, people who would give him the sense of belonging (all that praise kink talk is a lil' too much for me, but that's just me. you do you). Having a wife, kids, now also a dog is a part of it too. It's the "white picket fence life" that's supposed to be so... normal. Oh, make no mistake, he loves Abby and he definitely loves his kids. But the goal of the family is normalcy.

He doesn't want to be different than the rest of the world. Bigger, better, more shiny. Except maybe in medicine, but that's probably the only authentic thing in his life. His love for medicine. It's not means to an end. Besides, he likes Robby's approach, that this is a teamwork. Frank is a part of the team--again, belonging.

Trinity wants to shine. She has The Ego, and the means to show it. On the surface she doesn't care about belonging anywhere. She cares, she really, really does, about other people, but, oooh, allowing someone to see that? It's something she will fight to the bitter end. I'd say she was truly exhausted after this shift, when she let that fasade slip for a blink of an eye, and offered Whitaker a place to live. She imediately put it back up with that deflection about Krav Maga.

She's wonderfully complicated, that woman.

So, to sum it up. Yes, they are the same underneath. And they both project something that is not entirely true about themselves on the outside. But their masks are vastly different.

Oh, one more thing. The jokes, the jabs at other people. They both use sarcasm, but Frank aims it at his peers (Collins, Garcia, Princess is maybe not a peer, but she can hold her own) and only "belittles" Garcia, who gives as good as she gets, if not better. Trinity starts with jabs at those who are inferior to her (Victoria, Denis and Mel, who is not inferior--in fact she's superior as an R2--but her social skills are lacking and Trinity sees that), and those jabs hit the sore points of those people.

So, Frank's teasing is used as a bridge toward other people, without showing that he wants to build that bridge. While Trinity's teasing is a shield meant to keep people at a distance, so they don't see her vulnerability.

Yeah. Second attempt at a summary. ;) I want to say that them masking in different ways is most likely the reason I identify with Frank and only appreciate Trinity. Not that it's important, but my overthinking this bias led to the above analysis of their characters, so.. There you go.

Thank you for reading. :)

[alwayssmilingvenison]

Charlie beamed and giggled, fawning lightly over the confession. She’d heard for years how much her papa loved her daddy, she was so excited to finally hear how much her daddy loved papa!

She’d always known her daddy loved Alastor, Ozzie and Bee made sure she knew that, both Sins seeing it as important for her to know the love was two sided. Especially when she got older and confessed to having peeked into their room one anniversary. She had wanted Alastor to play with her and it broke her little heart to see him curled up in bed crying. She wondered often what her papa got in return for his devotion. While Lucifer wasn’t doing any over-the-top gestures, the fact her papa and he fell in love again even with him having no memories was the most romantic thing she’s ever heard and now seen!

She supposed she could allow them more time together...later. Right now another odd man was here anyways and she wanted to get to know her daddy—Well, new daddy…?

This was confusing.

“I’m happy you do!” She beamed.

“That he what?” Alastor asked, coming out and serving their food, putting sparkling cider in Charlie’s cup so she didn’t feel singled out as they drank alcohol.

“That he loves you, papa.” Charlie answered, looking up to him with sparkling eyes.

Alastor paused before smiling and chuckling lightly, setting her food down and then kissing her forehead. “Stop interrogating people~” He teased and she giggled.

“Okay papa.” She agreed and started eating happily, but then asked a hundred questions as they ate. From asking favorite colors to favorite memories. She asked mainly Lucifer, but also Michael and sometimes urged Alastor to share a story, usually whenever she got a...yucky feeling from Michael. She didn’t know why...but something told her he was a bad man. Though she ignored it because he made daddy happy and papa invited him.

She was expressive and energetic until the end, where she started getting sleepy. Michael almost thanked his father as she started trailing off, his head was pounding, that was just too much...everything. He honestly couldn’t stand most children, especially not ones ruining his plans and making him have to second guess his story for answers. Lucifer didn’t often bring up the “past”, so he hadn’t refreshed in a while.

Charlie started swaying in her chair, her eyes fighting to stay awake. “What...about...imaginary friends?… I miss Dazzle… Who…?” She trailed off as her eyes grew too heavy and so did her head. She almost smacked head first into her dessert, but Alastor caught her in time.

He smiled fondly and calmly picked her up and sat her in his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “Excuse me. Seems she won’t make it to bed time, she was so excited. Let me go lay her down and I’ll be right back.” He promised before getting up and carrying her out, humming gently to her when she whined before she curled up to him.

“… I didn’t know a child could talk so much…” Michael mumbled, face lightly flushed from alcohol, pouring another glass despite that. How did this dinner go by so well?! Was he just destined to have bad luck?!

Michael raised an eyebrow at Lucifer’s words. No, it really wasn’t beneath him. Not in this situation. Especially not when he noticed how comfortable Lucifer was with this. He was starting to contemplate if anything was beneath him. He’d do anything to have his brother back in Heaven with him. This was his second chance. He felt sick at the thought of wasting it. He felt more sick as the thought entered his head to just kill Lucifer. He was certain the scales were still tipped in his favor, being judgment allowed him that luxury. He could kill Lucifer and force him into Heaven...but he loved his brother and the thought of being the one to end him…

He couldn’t kill him when they went to war, he sure as hell couldn’t do it now that the other looked like his normal self again with his blue eyes and loving personality.

“Just find it humorous. You must admit the idea of her outsmarting someone like him is funny.” Michael whispered back in excuse.

“Thank you, and that’s not a worry, we can save it for later.” Alastor thanked, taking the bottle, but letting his hand graze Lucifer’s, leaning over to kiss his cheek and whisper. “I’m sorry.” He pulled back and gave him a gentle smile before taking them to the table to eat, pulling out and pushing in both Lucifer and Charlie’s chairs, quickly going to the kitchen to “find” a toddler-safe plate and cup before coming back out.

Charlie smiled to Lucifer while Alastor was gone. “Papa talks a lot about you.” She informed with a smile, innocently kicking her feet like she was just telling him her favorite color. “He loves you lots.”

Michael’s eye twitched and before Alastor got back, he helped himself to a glass of wine. Oh this was true hell, not the circus his brother made.

[cap-trio]

promised to another | part four

chapter summary: An awkward moment with Bucky and a lackluster reunion with Steve leave you in a sticky situation.

word count: 1.8k

note: here comes the angst y'all...

series masterlist / read on ao3

Everything is a warm, fuzzy daze when you wake up. Two arms are wrapped around your stomach, holding you against a hard chest. Without thinking, you snuggle into the person, assuming it’s Steve.

“Good morning,” a sleepy voice murmurs from behind you. A voice that does not belong to Steve.

Your eyes shoot open as you pry yourself away from Bucky. The movement jolts him awake and he retreats to the far side of the bed, centimeters away from falling off.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stammers.

“Don’t be. It was an accident.”

“Fuck, I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” He’s spiraling fast.

“Buck, I’m fine. I was…the opposite of uncomfortable. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

He nods. It’s more than you should’ve shared, but you need him to know he didn’t cross any lines. You’ve cuddled with friends before, and this was no different. That’s what you tell yourself, anyway. 

“I’ll go make us some coffee.”

Bucky needs any reason to leave the room and give himself a second to breathe. It doesn’t matter how many times he reassures himself it’s not a big deal. Because it is, to him at least. He hasn’t held someone like that in years, and he never enjoyed it as much as he did with you. Memories from college fill his mind - getting drunk and passing out on the couch, waking up tangled in each other. Lazy Sunday mornings spent cuddled together. When he realized he loved you the first night he held you like that. Hearing you admit you liked it, or at least he’s assuming that’s what the opposite of uncomfortable means, has him wondering if you’re reliving these memories, too.

You come join him at his kitchen counter. He’s relieved you’ve changed back into your own clothes; he can’t handle seeing you in his right now. Not when he’s teetering on the edge of falling for you. And he’s dangerously close to that edge. 

Last night comes back to you in bits and pieces. Wiping the foam away from Bucky’s mouth. Changing into his clothes, overwhelmed by the scent of him. Him taking care of you, not wanting you to go home alone.  

Confessing that you’re unhappy with Steve. 

It makes your stomach turn, the alcohol threatening to come back up. You had thought in your drunken state that it would make you feel better to get it off your chest, but now you feel worse. Guilty. Embarrassed. How could you dump that on him? How could you talk to him about it before you talked to Steve, your husband?

“You’re unusually quiet,” Bucky comments, sliding you a much needed cup of coffee.

“I’m sorry. I’m just thinking about last night, and I feel awful. I never should’ve unloaded all of my problems on you like that.”

“Please don’t apologize. You were drunk, and I like knowing you feel safe enough around me to talk about things like that.” He pauses, wondering if he should continue. He was up most of the night thinking about what you said, how hurt you sounded, how he could punch Steve right in the face for making you feel this way. Steve doesn’t know how good he has it. 

You deserve so much better, and Bucky wanted to tell you that last night before you ended the conversation. He wants to say you should leave Steve. Not even for Bucky, not for anyone but yourself. It’s clear this has been dragging you down. But is it his place to say that? As a friend, yes. But as an ex-turned-recent-friend? That complicates things. But if you can take a risk, so can he.

“I actually wanted to say something last night. To me, it sounds like you should leave him. He’s hurting you, and you don’t deserve to be treated like this. Forgive me if I’m crossing a line, but this is clearly weighing on you and I think it might be for the best. You said it yourself, you’re not happy.”

“Excuse me?” You spit out, anger coursing through you like a raw, ugly thing. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember asking you what I think I should do with my relationship. You think I should leave him, and what? Be with you? Because that’s not what’s happening here. I shut down the conversation for a reason last night. If I wanted to know your opinion, I would’ve asked.”

Bucky flinches like he's been hit. He has, in a way - your words feel like bullets. That’s not what’s happening here. He knows that. He’s about to say as much before you continue on.

“Steve is a great guy. He’s sweet, and caring, and he takes care of me. He loves me.” You emphasize the word like you’re trying to convince yourself you still believe that. “I’m not going to give up on him because of a silly little break, okay? This will all be over soon, he just needed some space. It’s perfectly normal.”

You hear how defensive you sound. Like you have something to prove. Something you find yourself believing less and less in. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky sighs. “Of course I know that’s not what’s happening with us. I didn’t mean to overstep. And you’re right, you didn’t ask for my input so I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have.” You stand and start collecting your things left scattered across his living room. “I should go.”

“Wait, please stay. I don’t want to leave things like this,” he pleads. “Let’s just talk it out, okay?”

“I need to be alone while I figure some things out. I’ll see you around, Buck.”

His heart shatters like glass falling onto a hardwood floor. “Okay. Yeah, whatever you need. I’ll uh, see you around.”

See you around. It’s enough to leave him hopeful as he watches you walk out the door. You don’t let yourself think about how he put up more of a fight to work things out than Steve did. How he gave you the choice to walk away, unlike how Steve chose to leave without giving you a chance to talk about it first. 

But they say drunk words are sober thoughts, right? And clearly what Bucky said struck a nerve, so maybe you should let yourself think about what all of that means. Your head is a jumbled mess, and it’s not just because you’re hungover. You’ve let these emotions fill up for too long, and now they’re ready to spill out. For the first time since Steve left, you’re grateful to be going home to an empty apartment so you have the space to think.

You unlock the door to your apartment, wanting nothing more than to take a nice long, hot shower, but you jump when a figure appears from the kitchen. You scream and reach for anything that resembles a weapon before you recognize who it is.

Steve.

“Surprise!” He says, smiling wide like he didn’t just nearly give you a heart attack. 

“W-what are you doing here?”

His smile falls. “I’m home,” he pauses when you don’t react, then clairifies, “for good.”

“A little heads up would’ve been nice,” you joke, but it doesn’t land. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise…are you not happy?”

“Of course I am! I just had a rough morning and you scared me, that’s all.” You plaster on your most convincing fake smile. Steve notices but chooses not to comment on it. The last thing he wants is to start a fight when he just got back.

“I’m glad to be home,” he says before pulling you in for a kiss. There should be sparks, fireworks, butterflies, something. But you feel nothing. All of the passion from before followed Steve out the door. 

“I’m glad you’re home, too.”

No one says I missed you. No one says I love you. No one mentions the lack of enthusiastic reunion. It’s definitely not the rom-com moment you’ve been building up in your head. 

Saying anything will only cause a fight; pointing fingers and blaming each other would just send Steve away again. You’ve been pretending that everything is okay since he left, so how hard can it be to do it now that he's back? You just need time to readjust, at least that's what you tell yourself. 

But then Bucky’s words replay in your head: This is clearly weighing on you. You said it yourself, you’re not happy. You don’t deserve to be treated like this. You excuse yourself to the shower, denying Steve’s request to join you. Panic rises through you, manifesting in shaking hands and labored breath. You turn the water on, sit on the shower floor, and let out a sob. 

You’ve been trying to downplay the situation, lying to yourself that Steve will come to his senses and ignore that sinking feeling in your chest that you know things will never be the same.

All of the lying to yourself and pretending that everything would be okay once Steve comes home, that things would go back to the way they were, has finally caught up to you. Not to mention the guilt from the growing, unstoppable feelings towards Bucky and not being over the moon at seeing Steve again. Now that you’re finally letting yourself truly think things through, you know you’re like a mouse caught in a trap, not sure how or if you’ll get out. 

It’s Steve, your husband, how could you be with anyone else? But if you still truly love Steve, how can you justify how you feel about Bucky? It’s like you’re being sucked into his magnetic force field yet again. Bucky still has that same hold on you and it scares the shit out of you. Now that he’s back in your life, you can’t let him go again, but you can’t - you don’t want to- just be friends. Things with Bucky have never just been friendly, like it’s been written in the stars that you two were meant to be. That now is your second chance with him. 

Another voice screams that maybe it isn’t meant to be though. Because it’s the same situation; right person, wrong time. Could you really divorce Steve to be with someone you’ve only recently connected with, despite the years of history? The choice is overwhelming, drowning you in what-if’s and buts and maybes. And then it dawns on you that if Bucky never would’ve gotten injured and dropped out of school to move back home, you would’ve married him.

But he did, and you met Steve and got swept up into a different kind of whirlwind romance. Maybe that’s still there, buried under a pile of rubble that you have to work to find. And if you can’t, even if the thought makes you sick to your stomach, you know what you’ll have to do.

tag list: @valyriantarg - @vicmc624 - @kittieboo

[orangesaek]

Hiii I hope you’re doing good. I love your writing and i was wondering if you could write something about jaemin picking his s.o from work after a tiring day and just have a chill evening like dinner and movies. Thank you so much <3

PLEASE IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TT^TT I hope you're still around, and thank you for requesting this :') <333

a/n: not proofread but will update if I find something off!

The office lights buzzed overhead as you gathered your things. Your limbs ached from a long day. You were mentally preparing to zombie your way home when your phone buzzed—it was a text from Jaemin.

'Outside. No arguments. Let me be your hero today UwU'

You blinked before your brows furrowed in confusion. ‘Hero???’

'Babe, I’m so tired rn my brain can’t even process your message,’ you replied. As you waited for the elevator, another text arrived.

'Cute. You’re being rescued, my princess.'

Your brows furrowed once more in confusion, and right when you were about to type in a response and ask him what he meant, the elevator arrived. You quickly put your phone back in your pocket, deciding to just respond to him once you’re home.

After what seemed like forever in the elevator, you finally got off and walked towards the exit when you noticed a familiar car outside. 

‘...Jaemin?’

A smile crept across your face when your suspicions were confirmed.

There he was, leaning casually against his car, dressed in comfy neutrals with that warm smile that never failed to melt your exhaustion away.

Jaemin opened the passenger door.

“Your special carriage awaits, my gorgeous queen.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his theatrics.

“You didn’t have to—”

Jaemin interrupts, placing an index finger on his lips.

“Shhh. We both had a long day, baby. Let’s be tired together but in comfort, okay?” he said, a gentle smile on his lips. You just nod quietly.

“Good girl. Now, get in,”

You weren’t sure where you were going. Apart from asking each other how your day went and the music playing softly in his car, the ride was pretty quiet. But it was the type of silence that was comforting. It never actually mattered where Jaemin took you because you knew that as long as you were with him, everything was going to be perfectly all right anyway.

As the car finally came to a stop, a grin spread across your face when you realized where Jaemin had taken you. He smiled softly at your reaction.

“You’re that happy?” he asked, although the answer was obvious already. You nodded enthusiastically.

Jaemin chuckled before mumbling ‘cute’ as he pinched your cheek affectionately.

“Come on, princess,” he softly called as he got out and helped you out of the car. You were standing outside your favorite restaurant, a small family restaurant outside the bustling city.

It had been a long while since the last time you both were there, so the familiar smell made everything feel like a warm hug to you.

The owner greeted the two of you warmly when you came in, happy to see you back again. When you were finally seated, Jaemin ordered your usual without asking because, of course, he remembers. As he jokingly called it, your ‘I’m-too-tired-to-function’ meal.

You both just sat there with his hand holding yours across the table.

“Thank you,” you smiled softly at him.

“I love you, too,” Jaemin responds, gently rubbing his thumb on your hand with a loving smile.

While waiting for the food to arrive, both of you listened intently to what the other was saying as you talked more about what happened at work. Your eyes widened in excitement when your food finally arrived, with Jaemin giggling at how cute you looked while clapping your hands in tiny.

“I swear I almost fell asleep in the elevator earlier,” you casually said before slurping on your noodles again.

Jaemin chuckled.

“If you fall asleep mid-slurping, I’ll carry you out like a princess. No shame.”

You laughed at this response while covering your mouth to keep the food from accidentally spilling out.

“Will you tuck me in with my chopsticks then?” you playfully asked.

“No, but I’ll wrap you in these napkins like a burrito.”

The two of you laughed and talked about whatever for the rest of your dinner.

“Ready to go home, gorgeous?” Jaemin asked as he opened the passenger door for you like it’s second nature. You nodded, getting inside with Jaemin quietly saying, ‘watch your head’.

You clung onto his arm and sighed in content with Jaemin expertly driving with one hand.

“There’s this movie Xiaojun said made him question his sanity because of how absurd it was.” Jaemin suddenly said. “Do you feel like watching a dumb movie with me tonight?”

You giggled at the thought and looked up at Jaemin.

“Of course, babe. Let’s,”

As soon as you arrived, you both kicked off your shoes in a hurry. Jaemin was already changing into one of your oversized hoodies that he somehow claims was ‘ours’ now. He set up a blanket fort on the couch while you grabbed some snacks.

“All set?” Jaemin asks, and you nod, opening one of his favorite snacks for him.

Movie night finally begins, but just barely 20 minutes in, you were already curled up with your head on his chest, half-watching, half-snoozing.

Jaemin runs his fingers through your hair affectionately, chuckling lightly at how hard you tried to keep your eyes open but failed anyway.

“This is my favorite kind of night. Just you, me…” he sighed, smiling to himself in content. “And a dumb movie.”

“What was that...?” You mumbled in your sleep.

“I said, ‘I love you’,”

And you swear, right before drifting off, you felt him kiss the top of your head and pull the blanket a little tighter around both of you.

[luvseraphh]

hiiihihi! i was wondering if you'd be okay w/ doing a bpd reader x mha boys ? that might be a big ask so i'm sorry if it is </3

if you do, could you possibly do shinsou, denki, and/or iida? thank you !!

borderline.

▹ synopsis: in which your sweet mha boyfriends help you through bpd <3

▹ content warnings: gn!reader, fluff, headcanons, reader has bpd!

▹ pairing: shinso x reader, denki x reader, iida x reader

▹ side note: Borderline Personality Disorder is a mental health condition characterized by difficulty regulating emotions, unstable relationships, and distorted self image. I did lots of research to try and get this as accurate as possible, let me know if anything is off or should be changed! <3

denki

encourages you when you're in one of your highs!

but he has his limits, he still makes sure you're being responsible

and whenever you're in one of your lows he's always there with cuddles and distractions

the way he talks about you genuinely does so much to help your self image

he helps you see yourself the way he sees you

whenever you make an impulsive decision or do something harmful to yourself he's always there to help you after the fact

he isn't happy about what you did but he'd rather you be safe than feel even more rejected and get lower mentally etcetc

how clingy he is is so helpful to your abandonment issues

like he is texting you 24/7 when he isn't with you

and he is with you most of the time

he loves being glued to your side

hitoshi

he is so calm and patient with everything

he's just quietly sitting with you while you're having mood swings

gently holds your hands while you're sobbing and smiling and he's just so cute I love him ☹️

always reassuring you

you're the only one he texts back quickly

like literally has his notifications off for everyone except you

and he has your notification sound different from the normal one so he doesn't mistake other people's notifications for you and vice versa

before you two do ANYTHING together he makes sure you're 100% sure and will not let you do anything without lots of consideration first

is with you during all your self journeys

tenya

another guy who's really patient when you're in your mood swings

very strict with you and doesn't support your impulsive behavior

does his best to help you prevent it because he doesn't want you to do something you'd regret

he's very big and muscular so you feel safer with him during your bouts of paranoia

very blunt with you when you tell him you don't feel attractive

he just thinks it's stupid for anyone to think of you as anything less than perfect?

including yourself

and he tells you that

which could be worded softer but the sentiment is sweet!

Taglist - @justmylvr @lwcedribbons @im0nsaturn @dvartefox @failurewater @f0reverfaded @t0asty1 @iv-vee @mp3nai @straows @grenadehearts @hecate-frenchfries @imagine-all-the-imagines

ⓒ luvseraph 5/11/25

[tonycries]

daddy toe knee..... i just finished reading clan head choso again 😭

anyway i miss my bbg so i'm gonna drop a couple little ideas in here. particularly clan head choso where you actually grew up with him. maybe you're a maid's daughter or a scullery maid or something, but you're one of the few other children in the kamo residence. choso is a lonely kid - he has his brothers, of course, but few other people his age, so when he sees you going about your business at the residence, he can't help wanting to be friends.

maybe you guys grow up together, friends despite the disapproval of the kamo clan elders. kid choso is so sweet... he just wants to be around you >w< you make him happy. he's quiet and doesn't talk all that much, but he's perfectly content listening to you talk.

then comes the day they inevitably try to arrange a marriage for him. it's a girl from a powerful clan, much more fitting for someone of his status.

you hear yelling, shouting. it's surprising - you've never known choso to raise his voice. then everything goes quiet. you don't even have time to wonder what happened before choso is throwing open the door, breath labored.

hours later, practically on the verge of passing out, you ask him how he convinced the elders to let him out of the marriage. all he says is 'i took care of it'.

anywayyyyys i was just a little down bad. a little thirsty.

-🦗

CHILDHOOD-FRIENDS-TO-LOVERS WITH CLAN HEAD!CHOSO OHHH YESYESYES YOUR MIND >> This just gave me THE cutest idea lovely hold on I might just bring him back 👀👀

[debilsposts]

I am currently busy hating my JayTim week fics, but it's time to take a small break and focus on something silly. You guessed right, it's time for another dumb long-ass hc, one that I might actually consider making a full fic out of, if you want:

Tim and Jason want to get married.

That's it, that's the hc, thank you for your time 🙏

Just kidding.

It's more like... Tim wants to get married. Jason is there for the ride, but he's also known for not half-assing anything. So he DOES IT RIGHT! Idiots in love, please, I need some idiots in love, right now 😭

Tim shows up to Jason’s place one afternoon and says, deadpan, “Will you marry me?”

Jason blinks. Then stares. Then, because it’s Tim, he checks the calendar, just in case it’s some kind of National Be a Dumbass holiday he forgot about. But no. It’s a regular Monday, and Tim is standing in his living room like he didn't just ask Jason to marry him.

“…What the fuck?” Jason says eventually.

Tim doesn’t miss a beat. “My income is too high. If I get married, I can file jointly and pay less in taxes. Bruce said I’m not allowed to commit any more fraud this fiscal year, so. You’re the next best option.”

Jason just stares at him. Tim continues.

“You’d get benefits too,” he adds. “I have a generous insurance plan. And you haven’t been to a dentist since you came back from the dead.”

Jason scowls. “That’s fucking rude, Tim.”

“I’m not finished.”

Jason shuts up, mostly out of morbid curiosity.

“The Gotham Gazette keeps calling me Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelor. Not Bruce. Not Dick. ME. And now that Dick’s in Blüd, and Bruce is like, too old, I’m apparently the new prize. And I’m tired of the questions. Also, Alfred’s been asking you when you’re going to settle down, so I know you’ve been suffering, too.”

There’s a long pause.

Jason opens his mouth. Closes it. Considers. Because somehow, somehow, this all makes a weird kind of sense. Like, horrifying, deeply concerning sense, but still.

“We’re not even in a relationship,” he says finally.

Tim shrugs. “If we get married before Dick does, we have bragging rights for the next century.”

Jason honestly doesn’t know whether he wants to punch him or laugh at him. Instead, he ends up at the Manor later that night, standing outside Bruce’s study like he’s fourteen again and about to confess to crashing the Batmobile.

He doesn’t wait for Bruce to answer before letting himself in.

“I need to talk to you about something,” he says.

Bruce barely looks up from the mountain of tax paperwork he’s elbow-deep in. It’s only when Jason adds, “It’s important,” that he pauses.

Jason hesitates. “If someone proposed to you, what would you do?”

Bruce frowns. “Did someone propose to you?”

“No. I want to propose. To Tim.” He shifts, awkward. “And I want your blessing.”

There’s a silence. Then Bruce blinks. Slowly.

And then he starts smiling.

Not just smiling. Beaming. It's… strange seeing him in this state.

Jason takes a step back, automatically uneasy.

“Oh, Jason,” Bruce nearly sobs, already halfway out of his chair. “Of course. Of course. I never thought this day would come. You’re finally coming home-”

Bruce hugs him.

Jason goes rigid. “Please stop doing that.”

Bruce sounds like he’s about to cry. “This is a joyous moment. Tim is going to be so happy! Alfred is going to lose it! We’re family again-”

“So… you approve?”

“Of course! Jason, it would mean you're part of the family again! See how wonderful that is?”

“Do you think we should… go for it?”

“Are there any reasons not to?”

“Well… I don't want him to regret it.” Jason winces. “I mean, I don’t know if he’s going to be happy.”

Silence.

Bruce pulls back. The warmth evaporates from his face like a switch being flipped.

“Why would Tim ever regret it?”

“What if… What if he changes his mind? He's not in love with me, so when we marry… And he finds someone actually worth being with, what then?”

Bruce suddenly pulls back. His expression turns sour.

“He doesn't love you? Why would you want to propose, then?”

Jason shrugs. “He said it’s for the tax benefits. And maybe the dental.”

Bruce looks at him like he just admitted to committing treason. “You want to marry for tax benefits?”

Jason blinks. “He- he’s the one who-”

Bruce raises a hand. “No. I cannot allow this marriage, then.”

Jason stares. “Didn’t you just say-?”

“If there’s no love, there is no blessing.”

Jason, now very much regretting everything: “Are you even allowed to not give a blessing-”

Bruce has already turned back to his paperwork, muttering something about annulments and betrayal.

Jason… doesn't know what his next move should be.

He doesn’t want to be married. Not really.

But he wants this to work. Because, god help him, everything Tim said makes sense. It’s practical. It’s logical. It’s the least messy solution to both of their increasingly ridiculous problems. And maybe, just maybe, Jason is tired of being alone.

So the next day, he calls Tim. Flips open his notebook and starts doodling on the margins while the phone rings.

“Bruce doesn’t want to give us his blessing,” he explains.

On the other end, Tim just groans. “Who cares, Jason? I don’t need his approval. We’re adults.”

“Yeah, but-” Jason presses the phone between his cheek and shoulder, scribbling absently. “It’s important to me, okay? That’s how things are done. You get the blessing. Then you get married.”

“You get dental insurance,” Tim corrects.

Jason sighs. “It’s tradition.”

There’s a pause.

“…What if we asked Agent A instead?” Tim suggests, dry.

“I tried. Bruce already got to him. Said we’re not in love, so it’s fake or whatever.”

Another pause. Then, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world:

“What if we pretended to be in love? Do you even use your brain sometimes?”

Jason stops scribbling.

Because, yeah. Yeah. That actually could work. If they just pretend to be stupidly, disgustingly in love, just long enough to convince the Bat Council, it’ll all smooth out. He’ll get the insurance. Tim will get his tax break. And Alfred can stop asking him when he’s going to “settle down and find someone worthy of his best, most cherished boy.”

It’s brilliant.

“Okay,” Jason agrees slowly. “But how? What do we do to look in love?”

“I don’t know,” Tim says, clearly already pulling up a spreadsheet in his mind. “We’ll go to dinner at the Manor next Sunday. We’ll hold hands. Smile a lot. Say some disgustingly sweet things to each other. You’ll even make heart eyes at me. That should throw them off.”

Jason opens his mouth to argue and then pauses.

“…Can I still go to that dentist downtown? I really did crack my tooth the other day-”

“Focus, Jason.”

Right. Focus. Sunday dinner. Hand-holding. Acting.

Jason thinks about it long after they hang up. About how easy it is to imagine pretending.

Not that it matters.

It’s just a practical decision. A business arrangement.

For taxes.

And dental.

(And, you know. Maybe a little bit for love. Eventually. Should I write this?)

[luck-of-the-drawings]

POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.

[solar-nightengale]

@lizardthelizard | Fake/Real

[tohruies]

ha! 💌 ! except that i’m doing uno reverse and sending one to you! (and especially since you’ve already written it once for me and i even printed it out!!!)

dear coco, so i know how you always want to bring even the tiniest smile to people’s faces! you are the sunshine that peeks from behind the clouds during the cloudy days ⛅️ but i’m smacking you affectionately because oftentimes in your selfship dynamics you mention that your dear beloveds soothe your heart after you give it away to everyone around on an open palm — and you should listen to that inner voice! ✨ treat yourself first, be a little selfish, make sure to feel comfortable before you comfort others ❤️‍🩹 let me tell you again — i am shaking you and telling you this because a happy and healthy coco guarantees even more happy people around her! 🥺 i love your prose, love your poetry that you sneak so elegantly in between sentences and paragraphs — it’s been a while since i’ve read anything from you and i understand that there are things that you must focus on first, but no matter the passing time, yours will always be one of the styles that inspired me the most in my writing journey on here! 🥹 your presence here has been influencing my life in the most positive way ever since becoming mooties with you! you always put so much thought into remembering everyone’s personalities, lives, preferences and stories! 🌸 but i wanted to make sure that you know how it also feels to be on the receiving side of love (though i know i’m not the only one adoring you so much and certainly there are so many others who would stand right beside you if you only needed a shoulder to lean on) 🩷

༼ﾉ ´༎ຶ ﹏ ༎ຶ༽ ﾉ *: ·ﾟ💌 when manu wears the biggest ever size of meanie pants ever... /silly

(i will acknowledge & respond to your own 💌 to me in the tags, if that's okay!! 🥺 oh my goodness 🥺🥺)

3 days later and i think i have finally collected myself enough to respond to this WAH... I AM SO SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING MANU! 🥺 i am uno reversing your uno reverse >:3 hehe, i remember that i wrote you one of these last year, in april!!!! it's always been a difficult month for me, so it made me really happy + meant the whole world to be able to write something for you and have you receive it with all the love in your heart 🥺 so much so that you even printed it out (i cried tears of joy last year when you told me that AODKJFAJ i am so sorry 🙈). i hope you don't mind that i give last year's message a sibling LOL, with what i am about to say to you now!!!! (⁄ ⁄>⁄ω⁄<⁄ ⁄) 

dearest manu mousie, manu the great, my manumimii!

where do i even begin with youuuu ;w; /pos!!!!! maybe i can start with how much i love (and also fear /lh, because you are truly so... omniscient lol!) how perceptive you are... the way you make people feel seen (exhibit a, the contents of this ask asdfghjkl) and look so deep into their hearts... i think you are incredibly excellent at analysing people and charaters /POS and i feel like this is very evident in your fics and character studies!!!!! it is due in large part to your introspection which is another thing i love about you :D and why i think i find a great deal of comfort in you 🥺 because i am always especially drawn to these kinds of people!! people who you don't need to wear a mask around because they will be able to see through you anyway... it's very soothing in a sense to know that you are like this 🥺💗 and it only inspires me to be more perceptive too!! i hope i can be as caring and kind as manu is some day, heheh (๑•̀ᴗ•́๑)  💗

which brings me to my next point—i love all the ways in which you are quietly kind and looking out for your friends—again, as evidenced by this ask, wah... BUT ALSO!!! in how you do other things for them! 🥺 little blurbs in their mailbox (i revisit that xiangli one you wrote me not so long ago) or even drawings!!! perhaps i don't ship with haitham anymore, but the doodle you gifted me last year has always been a widget on my phone :3 and it will continue to be!!! that was the very first time anyone had ever drawn me something just out of the goodness of their heart, let alone gifted me anything of the sort!!!! 🥺🥺 so it is something i hold really really close. it makes me smile SO BIG!! and kick my feet all excitedly to see you do that for your other friends here too HEHE—when i look at femi's pfp... vana's pinned... i am reminded of just how big and bursting with love that your heart is 🥺💗

i love how much you have grown on here over the past year. ⭐️ in terms of your writing—which has been such a pleasure to witness over time how you've grown into a style that is so distinctly manu!! 🥺🥺 because like! 🥺 i remember so distinctly a certain post you made last year about wanting to improve your writing and your vocabulary and finding your 'own writing voice' 🥺 look at you now!!! with your lush descriptions and rich prose and dynamic characterisation, IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!!! AND PROUD!!! and i hope you too, are proud of yourself friend 🥹💖 even aside from your writing, i'm so glad that you have grown more comfortable here in sharing more personal posts about yourself hehe AND OF COURSE YOUR SELFSHIPS!!!!!!!!!! :3 i am also very glad about how you have lots and lots of friends on here now!!! that all love and cherish and uplift and reassure you in the way you deserve to be 🥺

i'm just really happy you are here with us, babie. i hope you won't take it the wrong way when i say this, but i really do believe that you are so much stronger, kinder, and easy to love than you think yourself to be! 🥺🥺 i hope that you can continue to work on being less hard on yourself, and i hope that all your friends here can help with that in any way you'll let us!! i hope you will continue to share more of your heart with us here and let us cradle it and soothe it when you need it. i hope your studies will treat you as kindly as they can, and that you will succeed in them :3 i hope you know that all you need to do is try your best!! you have a beautiful brain and a tender, loving heart—so i am sure in due time that all the good karma will be returned to you 🥺💗 making you a steaming cup of pink chai with a dollop of condensed milk in it, and gently rubbing your hands in mine to warm them up 🥰 we love you so much manu, not just for all that you do for us, but for just simply existing as you are, and letting us bask in the warm light you radiate 💖💖💖

[em-b-sides]

I think about that tiktok trend where you like paint your partners eye color on your nails or make a bracelet or something with the color a lot actually