#but then last night i started to calm down abt it and the situation was settled a bit more

[caruliaa]

in my hits different eraaa

[s4wdvator]

hiiii lovely!!! <3 formal request for a hurt/comfort sam fic where either he or reader has a nightmare, whatever direction you wanna take it :) sending love!!

nightmare

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x fem!reader

SUMARRY: you had a nightmare and sam comforts you <33

WORDS COUNT: 1.1k

WARNINGS: fluff, nightmare mention, no "y/n" use, mention of Sam and Reader die, hurt, comforting, kisses and sweet words.

a/n: I swear I tried my best for this, lol. I wrote this at 5AM, because I felt a random urge. I know it wasn't as good as it could have been, It's cute I have to admit , I hope you like it hehehe <33

sam winchester masterlist | masterlist | abt me

English is not my first language! Forgive me if there are mistakes!!

Sam knew she wasn't getting a healthy sleep routine. Since the last vampire hunt, her sleep routine has become increasingly erratic and disturbed.

This situation worried Sam deeply. He started paying more attention to her, watching for any signs of discomfort or disturbance.

That night, they lay together, with her back resting against his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist. The blanket covered them, providing a feeling of warmth and security.

As she slept, she began to make small sounds, which kept Sam awake and alert. To try and calm her down, he began to lightly stroke her stomach, hoping that this would help her have more peaceful dreams. It seemed to be working, until she gave a scream that woke Sam from his light rest.

"Hey, princess. What happened?" He asked, worried.

She looked at him with fear in her eyes, breathing heavily as she tried to catch her breath. Little by little, her breathing calmed down and she was finally able to speak.

"It was just a nightmare," she said, trying to downplay the situation.

"Again?" He questioned with slight sarcasm, remembering that she had been having recurring nightmares for the past week. Every time, she said it was nothing – just like now.

"Yes, but it's nothing," she replied in a weak, sleepy voice, which only increased Sam's worry. He knew something was wrong and that she was trying to hide it so as not to worry him.

"Don't tell me that story again, babe," he murmured, not believing what she said, seeing her look away.

"It was just a silly nightmare, Sam," she insisted in a low voice. He hated the fact that she always tried to hide her problems so as not to worry him.

Sam sighed, looking at her seriously. "Babe, be honest with me, please," he asked, gently stroking her hand, feeling the warm, delicate skin beneath his fingers. He wanted her to know that he was there to support her no matter what she was going through. "You know I won't judge you or make fun of you" Sam said, placing light kisses on her neck, trying to comfort her so she would feel open and tell him.

She just nodded, wondering if she would really make the decision to tell him what was going on in her mind and dreams.

"It's just silly..." She muttered again, trying not to make the situation bigger .

"If it's silly, you wouldn't hesitate to tell me. Tell me what's going on babe" He asked again as his hands now started to caress her back under the fabric of his t-shirt that she's wearing.

"I've just been constantly dreaming about us...dying by vampires, y'know?" She said softly, still with a slight hesitation from telling him. His suspicions were confirmed, she really was like this because of that vampire hunt.

He let out a sigh and a slight weak smile, knowing that just as he is afraid of losing her, she is also afraid of losing him. He slowly sat on the bed, removing the cover from his body and lightly patting his own thigh, indicating for her to come closer and sit there. So she did.

She crawled onto the bed and sat on his lap, her back pressing against his chest as he covered her and him with the right blanket. He distributed kisses on her face, several on her lips and neck. She managed a slight smile at his effort to cheer her up and take the nightmares out of her mind.

"You know I wouldn't let anything happen to us, right?" He whispered in her ear in a lovingly way as he hugged her from behind, placing his chin on her shoulder and she just nodded, murmuring: I know.

"So, babe, I want you to stop worrying so much about the idea of something happening" he told her, she looked at him with a smile and nodded slightly, he knew it wouldn't be easy to get the idea out of her mind, however he would make the effort.

Lightly, his hands caressed her waist and then sweet words began to fall from his lips. "I love you..." He said first.

"I love you too, Sammy" She whispered smiling more truly this time.

Then, compliments began to be said by him, wanting to make her happy and better, not scared and full of hesitation.

"You smell good" He said burying his face in her neck and feeling her essence, making her laugh by the tickle of his breath "And extremely beautiful in my shirt" he gave her hip a light squeeze, making her laugh weakly.

"Your giant clothes are comfortable" She admitted smiling as she adjusted herself on his lap so that she was hugging him.

He laughed at what she said and returned the hug, letting her snuggle into his chest, while he let out a light sigh, feeling that little by little he was making her feel better and safe.

"Hunting is doing you good" she said softly out of nowhere.

"Why you say that?" Sam said with a confused laugh as to why she would be talking about this out of the blue and without explaining herself.

"You're gaining muscle" She said laughing weakly and adjusting herself to him. The best feeling for her was lying on Sam's chest, it's nice and cozy.

Sam slightly laughed at the sentence his girlfriend had just said, finding her point of view funny and cute.

"Well, I guess I'm going then" Sam said jokingly as he continued to caress her waist gently. Her skin was warm, and now that she was more relieved, I could better enjoy the idea of caressing her waist.

She couldn't hold back the smile when she felt his hand giving affection on her waist, and there, she knew that she was truly safe, and that Sam would fulfill the promise he made, he would protect her. And then, little by little, she fell asleep. It may have been because of the affection Sam gave her, or because she was now feeling comfortable and safe in his arms. However, the main reason, she trusted him, she knew that as long as she was with him, nothing bad would happen, and the feeling of being protected brought her peace, to the point that she was finally able to find a good, relaxing sleep.

Sam smiled genuinely when he saw that his girlfriend had finally slept, he could notice the difference now, she had a calm face and was probably dreaming good things. No vampires or death. And then, when Sam saw it, he fell asleep too.

[movedacc99]

"The Crazy Uncle."

(written by @karter.marker on tiktok)

(TW: descriptive death)

now that you may have seen my angst in 19 pictures filled with text, i decided to type it all down in pure words!! + its fully edited and proofread so you can basically count this as a revamp

also yes this is inspired by chr0macide's nonverbal pete hc in both of the break in 1 and break in 2 fanfics so props to that!!

listen to "dark is the night" (Tjomnaja noch') by mark bernes for a really cool experience while reading this (same audio i used for my tiktok slideshow abt the fic)

theres also facts about the angst in the end incase you missed small details ;D

[START OF DIALOGUE]

9/9/2019.

Growing up, Peter seemed to be like a sore thumb sticking out of all of his siblings. However, Mintie, his sister, found Peter to be a unique person.

Peter wasn't very verbal, especially when he thought so differently in his perspective in comparison to his siblings.

Due to this, everyone called him "Crazy Pete", and so did his brother who had the audacity to become a Protector even though he made fun of Peter. But Mintie didn't allow this and stood up for Peter herself.

Mintie would always spoil Peter in many ways. Mintie had always baked him pie and helped him when he was in the tightest of situations when he didn't understand. As the siblings grew up, Peter was greatly inspired and motivated by Mintie. He even brought a house for himself and Mintie in the town of Robloxia.

As for the brother, he got married to a skilled Medic and had 4 children that made both Peter and Mintie the uncle and aunt's of his family. One child is skillful in stealth, one child is a glutton, one child seems to be very energetic, and one seems to be athletic.

Peter felt somewhat proud for himself becoming an uncle, even his nephews and nieces called him "Uncle Pete". He himself even became the favorite family member out of the Protector's family.

Everything went well for Pete and Mintie until it was 2018.

They had announced yet again that a purge happened, Pete and Mintie knew what they had to do in order to stay safe. But while Mintie was out getting food, Pete had heard Minties' frightened scream. As Pete rushed in to help Mintie, it seemed that he was far too late.

The air was thick, it smelled like iron. Pete's eyes widened in shock as the blood of his sister seeped through his blue socks. He inspected the scene as the window near the kitchen sink was broken, shattered glass shards scattered all over, the canned food was already taken away by what he assumed to be one of the henchman who murdered Mintie in cold blood. Pete approached Mintie as he got on his knees, Pete held Mintie close as he mourned.

Mintie was taking her last breaths as her whole rib-cage was fractured by the crowbar sticking out of her chest, her internal organs were damaged, drying up. Minty spoke to Pete as she tried to calm him down, putting her hand on Pete's cheek.

"This... This isn't your fault, Peter." Mintie said her last words as she kept on hyperventilating, she smiled as she caressed his brother's cheek.

"Take care of your brother for me, won't you?"

Those words were the last words Pete ever heard of Mintie. He sobbed quietly as he broke down in tears, clutching Minty close once she went limp and lifeless. Her blood was everywhere on Pete, he didn't want to let go.

Second thoughts twirled around his head; "Why didn't I come with her?" "Why is this happening to me?" "This isn't real."

He wished that it wasn't real, Pete didn't expect Mintie to die in such a cruel way. He started to think that it was his own fault instead.

A few days after what seemed like hell for Pete, the Protector thought it was Pete's fault too. Everyone in his family called him "Crazy Uncle Pete". He seemed to be deeply hurt, especially when Mintie wasn't there to comfort him in any sort of way. So he had to mask his depression so that he couldn't make anyone concerned for him. He had to comfort his self. It was quite hard for Pete since he lived alone except for his pet mouse, Louie. He at least felt comfort every time he saw his pet. He had also given away the pie recipe to his brother since he knew that he missed her company too.

However one year later, the Protector, his younger brother, had to move into Pete's town due to how tired they got of their previous neighborhood. His family couldn't find better neighbors to reside with. It was awkward for both of them as the Protector found Pete to be annoying. Pete tried to warn him about the purge days, the Protector didn't believe him. Once they moved in, he felt happy yet worried for his family.

Pete knew he cared for the Protector and his family, yet they didn't stop calling him The Crazy Uncle.

[END OF DIALOGUE]

references!!

Mintie is an actual character not an oc, her name is actually ONLY mentioned in the pie recipe sheet pinned to the fridge.

The colored and bolded words reference the f2p roles the players pick (blue= the protector, orange= the medic normal color/bolded= the stealthy, yellow= the hungry, pink= the hyper, and red= the sporty)

if you didnt notice, the date (november 9, 2019) was the day that break in was released

bradley would be the narrator in this story!!

if your concerned about what happened after the end, the protector would feel sorry for pete after not listening, pete forgives him and they all stop calling him crazy (as proven in break in 2)

[cheemken]

HOLY FUCK CNXMCNZK

I knew that the Champions would be disappointed with Iris almost losing, that they’d definitely berate her for not being strong enough

BUT THEYRE LAYING THEIR HANDS ON MY GIRL IRIS. THEYRE LEGIT BEATING HER UP FOR ALMOST LOSING HER TITLE

Diantha really just told Cynthia to put Iris in Hell for timeout. But god even without Giratina in the distortion world it’s still pretty scary looking. Can’t imagine being stuck there for an hour and thinking you’ve been abandoned or something

But ough, this time the punishment will be even worse. Because Iris wasn’t just down to her last Pokémon, she was down to her last move. If she made the wrong call then she’d no longer be champion, but luckily (or unluckily) for her she won that battle

But yeah the Unova kids

With the next champion meet up in Unova and them spying on the meeting, it’s only a matter of time for one of the champions to ask Iris about the challengers she’s faced in the past while. And she answer truthfully for all except one, but Diantha had eyes watching Iris that report back to her. So the color drains from her face when Diantha asks about her last challenger, Hilbert. And the way Diantha is looking at her tells Iris that she knows. And there’s nothing she can do to get out of this

God all five of them watching in horror as Iris tries to get away from the champions and explain that she still had her title, she never lost. That she’ll train even more then she already is. But it gets even worse when a portal opens up and Iris starts panicking even more then she already is

They’re all smart enough to know that they could never take down 8 champions so they just have to watch Iris getting tormented by them. But Hilbert definitely feels like shit because this is all happening to her because of him. If he gave up sooner then Iris wouldn’t be in this situation

Im fucking vibing man bc this post is gon be on top of my post abt the Unova kids being wholesome like😭😭🤣

But yeah, things are heating up in the au huh ouo

But holy shit imagine tho, Cynthia already in the Distortion World, Gira's tendrils coming out from the portal, grabbing Iris' limbs, slowly pulling her down with them, and Iris is there, fighting back, trying to not be pulled down in Hell w Cynthia (bc Cynthia was terrifying and Cynthia was merciless and Cynthia wants her to scream until she loses her voice, Cynthia wraps those tendrils around her neck until she sees black, and Cynthia would just laugh at her and sneer and jeer and tell her how useless their training was if she's still this weak), begging Diantha to forgive her, that she'll be better, I promise! Diantha, please! I promise I'll be better! But Diantha just looked at her, glaring at her, disappointed, and with a snap of her fingers, Cynthia finally dragged Iris down to the Distortion World with her, her sinister laugh echoed within the room, and it sent a shiver down the Unova kids' spines.

God imagine how much that'd fuck then up, finding out whats happening behind closed doors, that they start to panic too, every bone in their body telling them to run, and it only took Bianca tugging on Hilda's shirt for them to run.

Imagine them trying to get away from the champions as quickly and quietly as they could. And god Hilbert was so fucking guilty, he was honestly crying as they ran, blaming himself that Iris had to go through that, and he just fucking hates himself god he hates himself so fucking much so so fucking much his friend is hurt because of him

The others try to calm him down before he spiralled even more to the point Cheren and N had to carry him out, as he actually passed out

And yo all five of them staying w each other that night, terrified that the champions might find them, that one or two of em has to stay up to be on guard, Reshiram and Zekrom's pokeballs at the ready, hoping that the champions also don't have another legendary Pokémon w them

The next day, they see Iris again, and she acted like nothing happened, she was still her usual (well, the usual now) self, and she's there w the champions as if they didn't just drag her to hell and back the day before

[pepprs]

today and tomorrow are gonna be the purest hell like genuinely and idk how im gonna survive them but i have to

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (7)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

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

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

tags/warnings. mentions of the following (abortion, cheating, suicide, depression, illness, physical abuse, death), smoking, alcohol/intoxication, suggestive smut

notes. 20.3k words hello ?? and it’s a bit angsty maybe. i hope u enjoy and tysm if you’re still here despite my slow updates :’( likes and reblogs will be appreciated! also lmk how u guys feel abt this episode ;)

series masterlist -> episode eight

2 DAYS AGO

Sleep just didn’t exist in Satoru’s vocabulary anymore and it came to a point where none of the sleeping pills still worked as they should. He could barely remember the last time he had been able to rest comfortably, falling into a deep, peaceful slumber without being cannonaded by recurring nightmares that triggered most, if not all, of his traumatic childhood experiences. And since there was an enormous disparity between dreams and reality, Gojou believed that the reason he was losing his mind at the flashback of his memories was because he knew, deep inside him, that he wanted some of it to remain just as a figment of his imagination. Not an actual memory from an unbearable past, but a mere phantasm that held no long term effect on his current relationships. Why, if it would only ruin his life, should he accept the truth behind his sudden flood of memories?

According to Sigmund Freud’s theory on defense mechanisms, a person tends to unconsciously cling to psychological strategies so that they could protect themselves from having unacceptable thoughts or feelings. After a really traumatizing experience, our instinct is to put up a wall and keep ourselves isolated from the external force behind that barrier, which will then allow us to cope with the situation better even if it means distorting our realities to fit what is satisfactory to the human mind.

To make it simple: Gojou’s defense to his depressive flashbacks was to dissociate from the world by sugarcoating the graveness of the matter.

At first, when Satoru recalled the melancholic truth about his life for the past three years, he almost thought that he could actually go insane. Nanami and Miwa took him home that day, and required the presence of his mother to help calm him down while he was on the cusp of self-destruction. He had a breakdown as he screamed and cried about how he was made to believe that his son died, how he was forced to accept that his wife never carried their only child, and how the aforementioned reasons led him to his multiple attempts at committing suicide. It was cruel. He wanted to understand why you did that. He wanted to run to your house and demand an answer as to why you would lie to him like that. He wanted you to go on your knees and beg for his forgiveness. He wanted to destroy you for depriving him of a chance to be there to hear his son’s first word or guide him in his first steps. He wanted to know why you would take all that away from him.

And then he remembered who he was as a person before you made all those ‘selfish’ decisions.

If not for his mother, Nanami, and even Akemi who were with him all night trying to soothe him from the distress that he was going through, he wasn’t sure what he would have said and done if he did face you that night while he was still apoplectic about the return of his most devastating memories.

You see, there is a type of defense mechanism proposed by Sandor Ferenczi that is referred to as the ‘identification with the aggressor’ which—to put it simply—is the act of adopting the behavior of the person who abused them. When Satoru finally cooled off two days after his explosive episode as a volcano, the first thing he did was to visit ‘the aggressor’ that started all of this chaos in his life. The very father who lay still on his bed, forever dormant, living a monotonous and passive existence as though he was only waiting for death.

“Why are you still alive, Dad?” Greeting his father that way after not seeing him for three years should speak a lot about the kind of family dynamics they had. But Satoru was the calmest he had been for the past 48 hours, so the old man was still lucky that he wasn’t on the receiving end of his unfiltered rage. “You must be happy right now, huh? Your fucked up son has a broken family. You probably don’t even know that you have a grandson.”

As he stood next to his father’s bed, he eyed how the only things that were supporting his life were a tank of oxygen and a nasogastric tube. Ironic, wasn’t it? While granted that he had everything, he still couldn’t do anything but just die peacefully. The old man had all the money, status, and power in life, yet none of those were of much help when karma finally arrived to make him pay his dues. The man beat up his wife so much to the point of driving her away, forcing her to abandon a son who was left at the hands of an abusive father. The asshole didn’t just stop there. He also manipulated his son into thinking that he would never be acknowledged as the rightful heir of the Gojou Group if he didn’t fool and marry an innocent woman for the sake of acquiring their company. Satoru had choices in life and he shouldn’t blame his choices on another person when he himself decided on them. However, given that his father was a ruthless, selfish man, there wouldn’t have been an arranged marriage to begin with. There wouldn’t have been a spiteful son whose only way of coping from trauma was by being cold and heartless to the people he identified as the perpetrator of his suffering. If only his father truly loved his family in the beginning, none of this would have happened.

“How do you live each day knowing that your son hates you, Dad?” he asked the quadriplegic man, glaring down at him despite the tears that streamed down on the corner of his father’s eyes. He may not be able to move his limbs or open his mouth, but his eye movements were clear to Satoru that the man was tearful at the sight of his only son. “How do you live without guilt knowing that you physically abused both my mom and I?”

The said mother was on his side, caressing Satoru’s back in a motherly comfort. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Clenching his hands into fists, he wanted to return the violent strikes that his father used to inflict on him. Satoru wanted to leave bruises on his father’s vegetative body to feel that sense of retribution by making him feel the same type of physical, mental, and emotional distress that he had to go through because of him. After all, why should he feel sorry? He had all the right to go ballistic on him. Because of the kind of environment that he grew up in, Satoru himself adopted his father’s behavior and ended up abusing the woman he loved, although not physically, but emotionally.

It was about time that Satoru recognized his own shortcomings. He needed to acknowledge that the things he had done to you couldn’t be easily forgotten. Abuse didn’t just come in a physical form, but also emotionally and psychologically. The scar on his forearm was the perfect exemplification of the effect his actions had on you—of how he lacerated his arm and left a gash on his flesh, but despite the antiseptic gauze that temporarily covered his wounds, the scar would remain with him forever. Although in your case, that same scar was deep in your heart.

But… but… why put Sachiro in the middle of all of this?

You never truly ended up forgiving your husband. That, he could understand. But why did you have to let his son be fatherless for three years? You knew how much Satoru loved your baby when he was still in your womb. You knew how much he would offer his whole life just to nurture you and dote on you. Even if you were angry at him, you didn’t have to stage the termination of your pregnancy.

So… why?

“Satoru,” his mother called for his attention and tried to unclench his balled fist, patting his back and leading him to sit on a nearby couch, “Even if you wanna hit your father, it’s useless. Look at how he’s being punished for his sins. He’s forever paralyzed and unable to do anything but listen to you.”

Looking at his limp father whose eyes still continued to release faint tears, Satoru eventually had to let his anger cease for a moment. His mom was right on that one. What she wasn’t right about was her participation in lying to him about the divorce and the abortion. “You.” He looked up at his mother as those questions dominated his mind. “Why did you make her lie to me about the divorce?”

The woman drew in a deep breath and stood defensively. “We didn’t have much choice. Your doctor said that we should avoid triggering certain memories that could be detrimental to your state of mind,” she tried her best to explain, “We only did it for your sake, my son. You woke up remembering Y/N as your wife, so we couldn’t just tell it straight that you weren’t together anymore. You were very fragile.”

But still… “What about the abortion?” he questioned, finding it hard to swallow the sickening thought. “I nearly killed myself thinking that I lost my child, yet you knew that she kept him? You were aware that she’s been hiding him away from me—”

“No, darling, no. Mom only found out about it on the day of your accident. That’s the reason why you crashed your car because you called me after you knew about it.” His mother approached him in a restless stance, seemingly wanting to clear her name. “My son, listen carefully to me. None of us knew about it except her, her family, and your so-called friend, Ieiri. They all hid it from you. They made us believe that Sachiro never even existed.”

“But why?” Satoru could feel himself being pulled down by the gravitational force of his pain. “I understand that she wanted to run away from me, but why did she have to fake my child’s death? Sachiro’s just a baby. She didn’t have to do that, Mom. I’m never gonna hurt my son.”

They said nothing was more comforting than being in the arms of your mother. Satoru realized how true that statement was when his mom embraced him and tried to pacify his growing ire. “I know. I know you wouldn’t do that,” she reassured, “I know how much you love your son. This is why you shouldn’t let this slide, Satoru. Let Y/N know that she’s not the only victim here.”

Her words made him pull away in discombobulation. “What do you mean?”

“She took your son away from you,” she pointed out as if Satoru should have already known what she meant by it, “She manipulated you into thinking that she had an abortion so you wouldn’t keep holding onto her. She did it out of spite even if she says otherwise. She’s selfish. Do you know how much it devastated me to see you hurting yourself over and over because you were made to believe her lies? I’ve had to wake up each day with this fear in my mind wondering what would happen if I leave you alone by yourself. I’ve even had to isolate you from everyone just to make sure that you can focus on healing on your own!”

Satoru was silenced on his seat, about six feet apart from his father’s bed. Surely, the old man could hear everything and he was even closing his eyes as though his son’s life was too pitiful for him. “I didn’t think Y/N would do something like this…” said your ex-husband, meeting his mom’s eyes once more. “I just don’t think she’d do this. Even if I gave her enough reason, she’s not the type of person who—”

“You underestimated her,” she countered, “Satoru, you have to accept the sad truth. Y/N isn’t as perfect as you think she is. She’s just as flawed as you. She took three years of your son’s life away from you. Do you understand that? You can’t let this one go. Don’t try to palliate her actions by saying you did worse.”

Then, what should he do? He was barely even processing the miscellany of his tragic fate. His mind was in turmoil. His heart was torn in shreds. A heavy sigh was expected to escape out of his lips as he thought the situation through. “How do I deal with this, Mom?”

Unlike him, she was resolute in her decision as though she had been waiting for this day. “File for a custody case.” The advice came from the same mother who once abandoned him. “Japan only grants full custody, so you have all the right to take Sachiro away from her, too.”

The moment you had been dreading for was here.

With only a single paper and a few words, Satoru Gojou had yet again managed to annihilate your whole world.

You told yourself that you were ready for this. That you were prepared for the day when his memories would come back. That you wouldn’t be shaken once he brings up the fact that you kept Sachiro’s existence from him all this time. You already visualized those scenes in your mind and calculated what things you were going to say or what actions you were going to take—everything was thoroughly considered for your advantage because you were aware that the return of his memories would have a massive blow on your situation as a divorced couple with an only child.

And yet, after reading the entire document of his plea for full custody, you didn’t think that Satoru could still pulverize every inch of you into minuscule fragments. Aside from filing a criminal complaint against you for lying about the abortion, he had also requested for your complete exclusion in receiving any inherent rights towards your son. Your son. Your only son. The son you carried for nine months while you were on the median between life and death. The son you raised alone in a foreign city while juggling between your career and maternal responsibilities. The son who—despite not having seen his father since the day he was born—was still very welcoming of him because you never truly excluded Satoru from the picture.

You did believe in karma, but how come you were always receiving the bad and never the good?

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay,” Ian reassured after having read the full document. Your hands were shaking, fingers twitching spastically as they sought out anything that they could hold onto. The pain in your chest was so excruciating that you wanted to just faint in order to stop the unwanted sensation. However, for your brother-in-law who was clearly concerned about your growing anxiety, he was doing his best to appease your sensitive emotions. “It’s okay. I’m gonna investigate this document and I’ll get you the best lawyers from the firm. You’re still at an advantage, Y/N.”

“That’s not the point!” you cried, chest heaving from your oncoming surge of tears. The point was, you fooled yourself into thinking that maybe Satoru would understand. You deluded yourself into believing that Satoru’s unfeigned love for you was enough that he would rather talk it out first instead of slapping a custody paper on your face. How wrong could you be? “I gotta go talk to him. H-He can’t do this to me… He can’t destroy me like this all over again…”

“Y/N, that’s not a good idea—”

Your mind was running just as fast as your legs were. Despite your unstable breathing and arrhythmic heartbeat, you ignored every other feeling except for the strong impulse to confront the spiteful father of your child about the war he was declaring between you both. It didn’t matter how distraught you looked nor how scandalous it would be for you to even have the guts to face him. It didn’t matter if tears were filling your eyes nor if your lips had become the same color as your skin. You looked desperate, but for your son, you would do anything.

Sachiro was all on your mind when you drove through the freeway at 100 mph. His innocent smile was all on your mind when you swerved through the lane and overtook cars on a busy road. Your baby’s cheerful blue eyes were all on your mind when you finally arrived at the central business district after receiving confirmation from Miwa that her boss was in his office today.

Among the curious gazes of his employees when you entered the lobby, it was mostly the receptionists who were particularly taken aback by your sudden appearance, going as far as ordering the security team to stop you from dashing towards the express elevator at your freewill. “Miss, I’m sorry but Mr. Gojou doesn’t accept visitors at the moment,” one of them said, shoving your lack of privilege in their boss’ company building now, “He’s pretty strict about this. You have to set a schedule with him first.”

“Don’t you know who I am?” you asked through gritted teeth, “If you do, then I suggest you back off or else you and I are gonna have a problem.”

“But Ms. L/N, wait!”

You weren’t intending to cause a scene, but there was barely enough room in your system to store all of your remaining patience while you were potentially about to lose your rights over your son. They could call you crazy however they want. They could label you dramatic for your desperation to speak to your ex-husband. They could gossip about how you had the audacity to barge into their chairman’s office during business hours without prior notice. They could even claim that you were using your name and status to bypass their security measures. The fact here was; none of them truly knew the real reason why you were in the c-suite floor of the Gojou Group, stomping through the corridors and ignoring all the staff who tried to call for your name. You were far too fixated on your purpose that everyone else was blurred out in the background—everyone except the man you once exchanged vows with.

And there he was, moving away from his desk as soon as you stepped a foot into his office. There he was—the contemptuous ex-husband who could destroy your entire life even if he had to exhaust all of his resources—ridding himself of his paperworks and standing a few meters away while his electric blue eyes studied the animosity in your countenance. He had his hands inside his pockets, keeping an austere mien with the backdrop of slate gray skies behind him. Wasn’t it funny? This office was where it both started and would probably end; where you two created Sachiro and where you two would fight over the sole custody of him.

“Close the door and leave us be,” was the solemn order he said to Miwa so that no prying ears would be able to hear what words would soon be exchanged between Japan’s most controversial divorcé and divorcée. “What are you doing here?”

As soon as his secretary shut the door, you dropped your poise and truly lost it. You were losing it. All of your trauma, your fears, your repressed feelings, and your vulnerabilities were all coming out as if you were vomiting words and emotions along with your tears. They were pouring out of you like water would on a shattered glass bottle. It was your fear of losing your son that made you reach your breaking point, tearing you asunder as you imagined what your life would become if he did take your son away. Perhaps this was the very reaction he wanted out of you.

“How could you do this to me?!” Maybe it was because you were overwhelmed by the tide of negative emotions, but you were already hysterical by the time you slammed your feeble limbs on his chest, completely in despair as he looked at you in agonizing silence. “H-How can you do this, Satoru? I’d rather y-you hate me, hurt me, or yell at me like you always did, but this…” Your voice weakened just as your body did. “Why are you doing this?”

He responded to your breakdown by presenting a businesslike mien. “What are you crying about?”

“Don’t be cruel!” you raised your voice and pushed him off. Your body grew so tense to the point of shaking—your breathing became ragged, your movements were frenzied. As for him, all he did was stare at your glistening eyes in confusion. “You have no right to do this to me! You m-made me suffer enough while we were married, and now you… you… I hate you!”

“Y/N—”

“You’re so heartless, Satoru. Y-You’re so damn heartless!”

“Y/N, listen—”

“Just hate me all you want, b-but don’t take my son away from me!” you wailed; your vision blurring due to the accumulation of tears in your eyes, “Do you want me to beg on my knees like you did? I-Is that it? I’ll do it for my son, just please… I’m sorry for hiding him. I’m sorry for lying about the abortion. I’m sorry I-I didn’t give you a chance to be a father. If you’re mad at me, just focus on me! Don’t take my son away, Satoru. I… I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

You couldn’t understand why the father of your child was looking at you like he was the one hurting inside. You could see him softening his gaze as he placed his hands on both sides of your shoulders, keeping you steady while he attempted to lock eyes with you. “Calm down first,” he advised, measuring the despondency on your visage, “Make me understand what you mean.”

“What do you…?” How ridiculous! After taking a deep inhale to gather your last string of patience together, you wiped your dampened cheeks and shoved the document to his chest. “You sent me this! Stop fooling around!”

Satoru didn’t waste a second before he opened the document and scanned the noxious words written on the paper. You, too, were just as confused when you watched the way his eyes read through the file, how his lips were curling into a frown, and how his eyebrows were furrowed in complete bewilderment. “How’d you get a copy of this?”

Was he acting?

“You sent it.” You shot him a glare—the heavy rise and fall of your chest finally steadying. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck.” He crumpled the paper in his hands and consequently closed his eyes in frustration. “It was my mom.”

Uncertainty bathed your face, but you had to hold your breath and retain your composure. “You wrote it.”

“I did,” he admitted straightforwardly, walking to the bin and tossing the paper into it. By the time he turned around and leaned against his desk, his face was clouded with regret. “My mom was insisting on the custody claim while I was at the height of my anger, so I drafted that to release my rage, but I was never going to send it to the court.” He stopped for a moment only to let out an exasperated sigh, simultaneous to how he also massaged the frown lines on his glabella. “I told her I wasn’t gonna push through with it. She might’ve sent that to you out of spite.”

“Satoru Gojou.” You scoffed in utter disbelief. “You really expect me to believe that? After you recovered your memories of me—of us, you expect me to believe that you were rational enough not to send it? Do you also remember how many times you hurt me while you were blinded by rage?”

Your ex-husband avoided your eyes. “You don’t have to believe me,” claimed he, “But if I was truly going to file a claim, I wouldn’t have the time to explain all this to you.”

Regardless of the point he had raised, you didn’t let your guard down. “You could be lying. You could be manipulating me right now. I know you wanna destroy me. That’s what you’re good at—”

“Y/N, I know what it’s like to grow up without a mother!” Gojou took slow, but measured strides towards you. His stance wasn't threatening nor defensive, but more so a plea to understand his side of the story. “I was disgusted at myself that I even considered writing that custody letter, because how could I? No matter how angry I am with you, I still can’t stomach the thought of letting Sachiro live without his mother.” He must have noticed how the hostility in your eyes was replaced by the slightest hint of sympathy, especially the moment he mentioned his long standing issue about his mother’s absence. You hated to admit that what Satoru was saying did make sense and he was more likely not to let Sachiro be traumatized the same way he was, but part of you just couldn’t trust him anymore. Part of you was doubting his sincerity and all of the possible lies between his words as you listened to his explanations. “Y/N, I’m still so angry with you for hiding Sachiro, but how exactly could filing a custody case help me? I lost my memories and my doctor says I should still be recuperating, so why would the court grant me full parental responsibility when I’m clearly unfit to care for my child?”

You silently inhaled and took in enough air to fill your lungs. “I just don’t believe you’d have all the time to consider this and think it through. You used to always tell me that I’ll pay for the repercussions.”

“I used to,” he agreed, “But I learned how fucking cruel I was. I learned it the hard way after I lost you.”

Before the topic could touch another painful subject, you decided to present a rigid façade and redirected the conversation back to your son. “So, what do you plan to do?”

Satoru made way towards the ceiling-to-floor window and let his unhappy eyes stare at the Tokyo cityscape. For a moment, there was silence. It wasn’t antagonistic nor was it filled with an air of estrangement. It was more of a silence full of heartaches and internal battles until he eventually gathered his emotions back together. “First, I wanna know why you lied about the abortion,” his voice broke in the middle of the sentence, but he refused to let you see the heartbreak on his face as he recalled certain memories in his head, “I was screaming in that hospital, you know? I’m not sure if you heard it, but I felt like I was the one dying when they told me that you wanted to have our baby taken out. I felt like… I felt like I was being killed over and over again thinking about how I was the reason our baby wasn’t given the chance to live.”

You felt a deep ache in your bones because you did remember how he screamed outside of the door, crying and begging for you not to ‘kill his baby’. You remembered how you endured hearing his breakdown and how everyone was insensitively asking for him to leave and get over it. How it was his fault. Or how he should have seen it coming. The memory brought an awful clutch in your chest knowing that the time had finally come where you two were now unfolding the truth behind that cold December night. In your guilt, you explained your side as calmly and as apologetically as you could. “You wouldn’t let me leave if you knew that I kept our baby,” you began, “You would’ve wanted to stay by my side and be constantly next to me because the baby keeps us connected. At the time, I was desperate to just be away from you even for some time.” Knowing that your words might hurt him, you allowed him to digest the information before you continued to speak. “I wasn’t planning to drag that lie for three years. I wanted to tell you the truth after a year, at least until I’ve managed to get back on my own feet, but I didn’t know how to approach you. I was scared to meet you again.”

“Okay…” he easily accepted your reasoning while swallowing his weakness inside. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to say more, prove you wrong, and let you know that your decision was still not morally right despite all the factors that drove you to do it. However, it was also obvious that Satoru was protecting something—whether it was his heart or his sanity—he decided that it may be best to just accept your rationale. And by doing that, he had to forgive you. “That’s all I really wanted to understand.”

But could this be real? Could Satoru really have enough heart to forgive you easily like this? Because you were profoundly ridden by guilt, you tried to explain more. “I-I didn’t know that you’ve become suicidal after I left or that you’ve had to isolate and see a therapist because of all the trauma that you acquired. I really just… I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Gojou. I didn’t mean all of that, I just—”

“You just wanted to escape,” he finished the sentence for you and turned around with a small, but forlorn smile on his lips, “What I went through isn’t your fault. I don’t think I can blame that on you. I was the one who led you to that choice.”

You exhaled softly, feeling the extensive distance between you both despite standing only two feet apart. “In spite of that, I’ve let Sachiro know who you are. Even if I raised him alone in New York, I still made sure he knows who his father is and I gave an excuse as to why you aren’t with us at the time. I’ve always told Sachi how much you love him.”

Your ex-husband cleared his throat and restrained all other painful emotions from coming out. “Did you have a hard time giving birth to him?”

“Yes, but he was a healthy baby,” you answered, watching tears glossing over Satoru’s eyes, “He actually didn’t cry much when I first held him in my arms.”

His crestfallen face was screaming ‘I could have been there’ and ‘I could have held him’, but he was more focused on keeping himself collected in front of you. What a true businessman he was; despite identifying a capital loss right before his eyes, he was still keeping it all together in order to delegate an action plan. It no longer surprised you that your ex-husband was applying the same logic to his personal relationships. “Let’s settle on a schedule,” he offered, “How do you feel about co-parenting?”

What was unbelievable about this was the fact that he was the first one to offer it. Or actually, it was more unbelievable that your conversation didn’t lead to a custody case like you initially expected. “More than happy,” was your immediate response, “Like I said, I wanna be fair to you. You can see him anytime. Just let me know.”

“I’ll have Miwa check my schedule and see if that’s okay with you.” You could sense that Satoru was putting enough effort to conceal the pain in his voice. “And I’m sorry about my mom. Just ignore the document you received today. I’ll have a talk with her about it.”

“Okay…”

“Then…”

“If we’re done here,” you insisted, preparing to leave, “I’ll go. I appreciate that you’ve been cooperative.”

So, that was it? Your efforts in coming here were worth it after all. The misunderstanding behind the custody case was all cleared out. The explanations regarding your decision to hide Sachiro were finally out in the open. The resolution to co-parent healthily was now settled. But why did it feel like there was a catch in all of this? Why did your heart feel empty as did his?

“Y/N, wait…”

There, there was definitely a catch. However, you were still walking away when he called for your name, daring not to look back as you grabbed the door handle. You didn’t want to hear him take his words back. You refused to hear him say that he was just testing you and that he was still hellbent on claiming sole custody of Sachiro. Yet just before you could twist the knob, a prickling sensation shot up your spine when you heard the next words coming out of your ex-husband’s mouth. Contrary to your assumptions, it wasn’t about Sachiro nor was it about anything concerning his parental rights. It was about you.

“I love you.”

Your stomach contracted into a tight ball. “...Satoru.”

And as you turned around to look at him, he was already heading towards you with the most heartrending expression you had ever seen on his face. It exceeded the miserable state he was in when you first announced the divorce on the Gojou Group’s anniversary. It surpassed the despair in his eyes when you met him on the day of your wedding with Toji. His visage was a mixture of yearning, regret, and dejection—something that was expected of an ex-husband whose memories of the divorce were still fresh on his mind.

But what was more pitiful now was how he swallowed his pride to beg for something that he shouldn’t. “Please take me back.”

“Satoru,” you mumbled inaudibly as he had his arms wrapped around you, embracing your frame with no willingness to let go, “Satoru, stop. We’re divorced.”

You felt his tears dampening your blouse after he buried his face into your shoulder. “Please forgive me, Y/N.” The desperation in his voice made you crumble inside. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you when we were married. For lying, for cheating on you, for spouting hurtful words that you didn’t deserve, for putting you through so much pain to the point where you had no other choice but escape. There’s nothing I can do to erase the things I did to you and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” He tightened his hug around your body and pressed his forehead against yours. Only then did you see the loneliest blues that made up his eyes. “It d-doesn’t matter to me now that you lied about the abortion and that you hid my son for three years. I-I’ll turn a blind eye on all of it, just please… Please come back to me. Our home feels so empty without you.”

Seeing how Gojou was a complete emotional mess to you right now, you suddenly forgot what your expectations were when you decided to barge in his office and confront him about his appeal for custody. Frankly, you thought that the conversation would end up becoming so intense that you would have an explosive exchange of words, yelling at each other about who was hurting more than who, and slamming whatever breakable things could help release the rage you had for one another. You expected that he would even ask his bodyguards to drag you away, telling you that you were trespassing his property since you were no longer his wife. The old Satoru you knew would have spitefully and unforgivably demonized you for your mistakes, inflicted pain on you with his piercing words, and have you drown yourself in anguish as you deserved.

You didn’t expect that the conversation would turn out like this at all—where he was crying in front of you instead of yelling, where he was begging for you to take him back instead of calling you out for leaving him without a word. No, this was not what you expected and you were practically speechless as you pulled yourself away from him.

“We can’t,” you reiterated earnestly, “I’m with Toji now.”

Gojou swallowed his pride and wiped his eyes. “I know. You don’t have to break up with him,” he insisted, “You can keep seeing him behind my back and I won’t get mad at you for it. Hurt me like I hurt you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“As long as our family can be together again, that’s enough for me. Please.”

Instead of giving in, all that you could give was a sigh. It was absurd, if you were being real. The man who broke you was right here offering himself to be broken the same you did. He was here giving you a go signal to cheat on him so long as you would accept him back into your life. He was here doing everything he could to bring his family back together. If you were still ‘you’ back when you were his altruistic, submissive wife, you would have said yes. You would have hugged him and told him that you would let him in your heart again.

But things had changed just as you did, too.

And while you kept that in mind, you also recalled the recent things Gen had told you.

‘This is exactly why you can’t live with Satoru! You’re so fucking spineless! You have no backbone when it comes to him!’

‘You need to stand up for yourself instead of letting Gojou have this much influence on your life!’

Wrong. She was wrong, because as you stood in front of Satoru who was offering his whole world just to make you a part of his again, your choice was the opposite of what they all thought about you.

“I’m sorry,” you said to your ex-husband, gripping his wrists and pulling them away from your body. “We already agreed to co-parent, Satoru. Let’s just stick with that. You and I, we need to start living separate lives.”

Nothing but pain masked his face. “It’s because of Toji, huh? Is it because you love him?”

You looked away. “I do. I love him,” you professed, being reminded of the argument you had with Toji a few nights ago. This was the perfect opportunity to establish your past and present, with Toji being the present and Satoru being the past. You only had one choice among the two.. “He’s everything to me and I want my future to be with him.”

The reason why you couldn’t even have the courage to peek at Satoru’s face was because you knew, just by his voice alone, that he was falling apart. “Are you happy?”

I’m sorry, Satoru. “Without you, I will be.”

Gojou had to place a hand against the wall to support the surge of pain that was eating him away. He was holding onto that concrete wall as if it would collapse because you bulldozed his heart without so much of a warning. Did he expect that you would say otherwise? After everything, maybe he did have hope that you could still be together in the end. He may still be hoping that the two of you could love again. He was still holding onto you because he had no one else to hold onto. The only possible way for him to accept reality was for you to let him go.

“Satoru, let’s move on,” you said, voice quivering in the middle of your sentence, “I hope you’ll meet someone new. Someone you’ll love and respect. Someone you can protect and comfort. Someone you will cherish and value for the rest of your life.” You hid the drumbeat of pain inside your chest. “That person isn’t me anymore.”

This was the closure you both needed—something that you didn’t get to have three years ago.

And while it seemed that it took a few seconds, minutes, hours, days, and forever in his head to accept the outcome of your failed marriage, at the end of it all, he had to respect your decision.

“Okay,” he somberly answered, turning away and gesturing towards the door, “You can leave.”

After paying a quick visit to his mom in jail, Yuuta’s next destination was to the Gojou Group to let his stepbrother know that he would be flying back to America soon. It might take several months before he comes home again, so it was best for him to see everyone just before he would leave. He wasn’t sure if he could even return home during the holidays because he would be too busy in his last academic year in Harvard and he had to put 100% of his focus into his studies. As much as it was grueling to hear, all of his efforts were building up to a more rewarding future, and that was to run a multinational conglomerate alongside his stepbrother.

On the other hand, maybe he wasn’t really in luck today. He was curious to see why there was such a commotion in the lobby when he came to the office this morning, and just imagine his surprise when he saw you arguing with the employees and flouncing towards the elevator while telling the bodyguards that you had to speak with your ex-husband. The unusual pugnacity in your stance made Yuuta step back and decide that it might not be good for him to barge in and see the chairman. Whatever it was that you had to talk to Satoru about, it must be of serious concern because it wasn’t in your nature to show even the slightest bit of aggression in your mien.

So that was how he found himself heading straight to the airport with Miwa who was kind enough to see him off as she promised. Although she still had four hours left at work, Nanami allowed her to leave early since Satoru was still too preoccupied with his marital predicament, which means that the chairman would most likely spend the rest of the day focusing on how to resolve his issues with you.

“I can’t even say goodbye to nii-san,” said Yuuta, carrying a shearling jacket over his left arm while holding his passport and boarding ticket with his right hand. They were strolling through the waiting area as he and Miwa made their way to the first class lounge. “Please give me an update about him whenever you can.”

For some reason, his stepbrother’s secretary had been silent throughout the drive to the airport. He could even count the very limited number of eye-to-eye contacts that they have had. And even as she talked, she was doing her best to look away. “Don’t worry too much, Yuuta-kun. We’ll make sure to look after him.”

“I know you will.” He offered a smile and led her inside the lounge. “I just hope whatever it is that he’s going through with Y/N-san, they’ll still find a way to reconcile. If not for themselves, then at least for Sachiro.”

Miwa held back a sigh, but slumped her shoulders nonetheless. “Did you get to see Sachi yesterday?”

He responded by shaking his head. “No, sadly. I might piss off nee-chan’s family if I dared to visit their mansion. They consider me a Gojou, you know.”

“I guess that’s true. They also have a bad history with your mom.”

“Everyone hates my mom. That’s understandable.” Yuuta found his spot on one of the leather sofas inside the luxurious facility where the symphonious orchestrations of classical music was playing from a distance, providing a very upscale experience for its more-privileged passengers. Remembering Nanami’s words in mind, all he needed was a glass of Chardonnay to feel like a wealthy executive on a business trip. The thought of it made him laugh. “I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.”

The blue-haired girl sat quite a distance away from him as she replied. “For what?”

He moved his index finger in a circular motion, referring to the whole place itself. “This. The fancy lifestyle and all the exclusive perks that came with it. It still feels weird to me, surprisingly,” he opened up, leaning his nape on the headrest and tilting his face towards Miwa. “I wasn’t born from old money, so I experienced what it’s like to fly coach or to sleep on a gang chair waiting for my flight. But for affluent heirs and heiresses like Satoru Gojou or Y/N L/N, this kind of extravagant lifestyle is what's been ‘normal’ to them since they were children, you know? They even have the choice to fly on their own private jet. I think that’s what my mom tried so hard to achieve—erasing the part of her that identifies with the middle class and completely molding herself into this rich person who has never had a taste of hardship in life. She despises the fact that she wasn’t born into a powerful and wealthy family.”

“I’m more surprised that you didn’t acquire the kind of mindset that your mom has,” the girl admitted, almost sounding like she was amazed, “You kept yourself grounded even when you’ve been living rich since you’ve been with the Gojous.”

Yuuta smiled and observed how Miwa suddenly seemed drawn to the conversation. “Maybe because I’m not a materialistic person in general,” he supposed, “Mom thinks money can buy her happiness. I’ve always been distasteful of that logic.”

Miwa took her time to consider the thought before she gave her two cents in. “Well, your mom kinda has a point, too. Having enough money means you have more access to specific resources that not a lot of people can afford like education, healthcare, housing. If I had enough money, I probably wouldn't be dedicating twelve hours a day working for a busy person like Chairman, but I have to do it because my siblings depend on me.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I admire you for that,” he responded, sending the girl a tender gaze. “I told you this before, but I really, really do think that you’re one of the most hardworking people I’ve ever met, Miwa-chan.”

Whether she was shy or she was simply feeling awkward around him, Miwa still couldn’t let her eyes meet Yuuta’s. Instead, she was looking down at her lap while plastering a small smile. “I think Yuuta-kun is hardworking, too.”

In some days, he could say that he was. “It’s nice to talk to someone who also didn’t come from old money. It gets suffocating at some point, but I feel like I can breathe properly around you.”

His statement sparked the sudden curiosity on her face. “What about Maki-san? Does she not…”

In fact, Yuuta was just checking her phone to see if Maki had replied to his text message, only to be disappointed that his girlfriend hadn't even read the text. She must truly be busy with all of the obligatory family affairs that she had to attend to. “Maki is a Zen’in. I think her family name alone speaks for itself.” He chuckled lightly. “Of course, she’s not pressuring me or whatever, but their family pride makes me feel small sometimes. I always wonder if they’ll accept me or if I’m good enough for her or if I can guarantee my own success without trailing behind her. It’s a constant battle of self-doubt and insecurity that I often hide from her.”

Miwa nodded after having a better perspective regarding Maki and Yuuta’s relationship. “I’m more than sure that they’ll like you for who you are.”

“You really think so?” Yuuta lightly asked, pinching her nose.

Her cheeks were soon limned with a pink tint. “...You have nothing to be insecure about. I think you belong with them as much as you’re doubting yourself.”

While it was considerably unusual in this society for men to be openly insecure, Yuuta still believed that he had all the right reasons to feel so. Not only because of his upbringing, but also because he never truly felt like he could fit in anywhere. People would say he was too rich to be with the middle class, but those in the higher society would say that he didn’t originally belong to the upper class. This was an on-going issue that he had to face ever since he was adopted by the Gojou family, and only since he started living in America did he feel his own independence.

What would things be like if he had just decided to never come back to Japan?

“Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 372A to Boston. We are now inviting passengers to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.”

At the announcement of his flight, Yuuta got up and turned to his companion with a bittersweet gaze, wondering to himself when he would be able to see her again. “Miwa-chan, looks like I gotta go. Let’s keep in touch.”

She nodded just as fast, but kept her downcast eyes on the floor. “Please take care.”

“Don’t be sad,” he teased, poking the puff of her cheek with his index finger. “You’re gonna be my secretary when I come back.”

With a little less than ten minutes left to board the plane, Yuuta offered his friend a salute while watching how she was standing completely frozen on her spot. Her eyes were speaking a million words, but her mouth refused to say even a simple goodbye. Perhaps, for someone sentimental like her, there should be no goodbyes. Only ‘see you later’ or ‘until we meet again’. Even though it may take another 6 months, 10 months, or even a year or two—Yuuta knew that some way and somehow, he would be able to find her.

For now, it was time to leave this place.

And when he comes back, he hoped that his mother would finally be remorseful of her actions. He hoped that his stepbrother would be able to sort out his failed marriage. He hoped that Maki would still accept him in her life even though the distance may drive them apart. He hoped that… he hoped that…

“Yuuta-kun!”

He was already halfway through the gate when Miwa called for his name. The nervous stretch of her eyes and the small parting of her lips suggested that she was about to spill the thing that had been burdening her mind ever since he came back to Japan.

“I like you,” she confessed, leaving Yuuta stunned and speechless, “I’ve liked you for years now, but I never had the courage to tell you because you’re out of my league. All the little moments we’ve had, all the times we talked over video calls and late night chats—all of those may be insignificant to you, but I want you to know that those memories mean so much more to someone like me. You’re an incredible person and you’re such a positive influence to the people around you. I admire your humility, kindness, and optimism a lot and I hope that you’ll never, ever doubt yourself.”

Yuuta couldn’t move. “Miwa…”

“This is the final boarding call for passenger Yuuta Okkotsu booked on flight 372A to Boston. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately five minutes time. Thank you.”

Miwa’s eyes glimmered. “I’m only telling you this so that I can get it off my chest,” she added before giving a full 90 degree bow, “I want to set myself free from the feelings I have for you, so… Thank you for everything, Yuuta-kun. I wish you the best with your life in Harvard and your relationship with Maki-san.”

Coming home after the emotional exchange that you had with Gojou was worse than the encounter itself because all eyes were on you from the moment you returned to the family mansion, with most of them gauging the depth of your feelings closely, possibly wondering what had occurred between you and your ex-husband when you dramatically stormed into his office. Gen didn’t have to speak her mind. You could already hear the questions inside her head without her having to vocalize them. It was either ‘did you get swayed by him again?’ or ‘are you letting him off easily?’—whichever of the two, your sister had no intention of understanding Satoru’s side. But for you, as a courtesy for the man who tried his best to fix his broken family despite your adamant rejection, the least you could do was to finally put an end to the antagonism that he was receiving from your family.

That was the only possible way for you to co-parent healthily.

“Y/N.” It was Ian who had the courage to speak up first as soon as they met you at the bottom of the grand staircase. Your languidness seemed to have given him the wrong impression. “I checked with the court and they told me they didn’t receive any complaints from Satoru. How’d your conversation go with him?”

With your dad’s sympathetic eyes and Gen’s calculating gaze, you suppressed any other emotions from coming out except for the untroubled front that you were presenting to them. “He didn’t send the custody letter. It was his mom who did,” you said without sugarcoating the truth, “We’ve decided to co-parent.”

Your sister couldn’t put the puzzle pieces together from the obvious disconnect on your words. “Why would Auntie send it? What the hell’s her problem?” she questioned, arms crossed over her chest, “And co-parenting doesn’t exist in Japan’s law, Y/N. It’s either you will keep Sachiro or he will.”

“Well, I don’t care. I want my son to stay connected with his dad,” you snapped. “That’s my decision and not yours.”

You could surely count the number of times that you had actually answered Gen back, and although you felt bad for the way your relationship as sisters was practically ruined, you still wanted to make sure that she knew not to cross the line when you were making decisions for your son. It wasn’t you being stupid or lenient or too forgiving—it was you doing your best to make up for the time you stole between your ex-husband and his son. After all, if the tables were turned, you wouldn’t have liked it if your spouse hid your child and took three years of your motherhood away from you.

Based on how your father reacted, he seemed to have had the same understanding of the situation. “Is that what Satoru wants, darling? Just co-parent?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line before responding with utmost honesty. “At first, he wanted me to take him back so our family could be complete.”

“And?” Gen prodded. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Lucky for her, you were no longer the spineless sister that she claimed you were. “No, I officially broke it off with him. He obviously had no choice,” you answered, looking away. “Are you happy now?”

A sigh or two could be heard from your family. While as for Gen, she became more apologetic and less stern when she explained her side. “Y/N, I didn’t yell at you the other day just because I’m being petty. I said all that because I want you to protect yourself. Who else is gonna defend you but us?”

Well, it was over, anyway. You and Gojou weren’t tied anymore and he had already agreed to share parental duties while you would remain as the custodial parent. That was the best possible outcome that you could ever expect from such a broken man. “Just please, stop getting mad at Satoru,” you bargained while keeping your ex-husband in mind, “He already apologized and paid his dues. We both hurt each other, and now we’re both trying to atone and compensate for our mistakes.”

“You’re still protecting him,” Gen pointed out. “You don’t have to. You don’t need to forgive him. He wouldn’t have done the same for you.”

You decided to correct her statement. “But he did. And despite everything, I still loved him when he was my husband.”

Your father was more considerate with your feelings, however. “Just make sure you’re always choosing yourself first, okay? Dad’s here to give you advice if you need it.”

“Same here,” Ian chimed in, “Make sure that the rules you two will set in co-parenting Sachiro will still be favorable to you. You can consult me anytime if you think something isn’t fair.”

At least, contrary to your expectations, this day ended better. You managed to talk it out with Satoru without having a lawyer by your side, and now your family was also very supportive and understanding with your decision. It might seem too good to be true at the moment, but you had trust that your ex-husband would not do anything against his promises. His tears and his genuine downpour of feelings earlier were enough to tell you just how much he cared about you and your son, so you were reasonably sanguine that he would not be spiteful even after your rejection.

For now, you still had another problem and it was telling Sachiro that his parents weren’t actually together anymore.

How could you even begin to explain such a situation to a toddler? How could you open his mind to the reality that his mommy and daddy weren’t married anymore? How could you expect him to react after seeing you with another man and him with another woman?

It broke you inside that Sachiro was only 3 years of age when you had to have this talk with him. It devastated you just how innocent he was to be catapulted into the world of broken marriages, which ultimately deprived him of the happy family that he deserved to have. These thoughts were drowning you when you entered Sachiro’s playroom later that night, hesitating whether or not it was a good time to let your son know about the current setup between his parents. What was the best approach for a situation like this?

“Hi, Mama.” Your son waved his small arm at you while sitting on the mat next to his building blocks. He was completely oblivious to the hesitation in your movements when you hunkered down to meet his height. “Mama, lookie!”

You smiled at the small house he had created with the toy blocks and proceeded to shower him with praises. “Wow~! That’s amazing! Did my baby build this?”

The toddler nodded, cheerfully. “Yes, Mama. Can Sachi show Dada?”

Great. Good timing. Now that he brought up his father, you took this as an opportunity to open up the topic. “Sachi, mommy has something very important to tell you, so you listen carefully, okay?”

“Mmkay~”

Why was your heart beating so fast? Why was it pounding so loudly? You could feel beads of sweat forming on your temple. Your throat, parched. But you had to take no excuse in finally disclosing the truth to your son. “Sachi, mom and dad are…” you swallowed hard, “We’re not together anymore, but we’re still friends because of Sachi.”

Your little boy tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Why fwends, Mama? Is Dada mad at Sachi?”

“No, baby, it’s…” God, help me. “Dada loves Sachi very much, so he still talks to Mama, but because we’re not together anymore, that means he can’t live with us.”

It felt like a knife in the gut to see the way he pouted—his eyes shining with tears. “Why is Dada going away?”

“He’s not. You can still see him. You can always see him, my baby,” you immediately reassured while your child was at the peak of solving the complicated puzzle. He was too young to understand all this, but in what other way could you explain it? You sighed and continued. “It’s just that Mama and Dada aren’t together anymore.”

“But…” Sachiro shook his head in denial. “Sachi wants Mama with Dada.”

“Your Mommy and Daddy are divorced.”

The feminine voice wasn’t from Gen, but from a close friend of yours who stood by the door with a plaintive smile on her face. You didn’t know how long Ieiri had been standing there, but it seemed as if she had only decided to step in on the conversation once she saw how you were struggling to explain the situation to your son. It was only then did you realize that you really did need her help, and she was quick enough to act on it by giving you a certain look that said ‘I got this, let me help you’ before she sat down and spoke to Sachiro.

“Divorce means they’re no longer married to each other, but they still love you very much and they will always care for you,” Shoko calmly and patiently explained the situation to your child, distracting his mind by helping him put the toy blocks together—a tactic that Ieiri must have seen useful to lessen the psychological impact on Sachiro’s 3-year old brain. “Starting now, your daddy will live in the penthouse while your mommy will stay in this house. Sachi will stay with mommy, but you will still see daddy, too. Just like in New York, remember?”

Sachiro connected one block to another. “Is it… Is Dada bad for Mama?

You cleared your throat and stroked his plump cheek. “No, of course not. Dada and I will continue to be friends for you, baby. I’ll take care of you when you’re with me, and he’ll take care of you when you’re with him. I’ll read your bedtime stories, sing you to sleep, and give you bubble baths, while Dada will give you lots of hugs, play with you, and get you fried chicken.”

Ieiri let out a silent chuckle at your last line. “That’s right. Sachiro will still have both Mom and Dad.”

It was his pure innocence that led him to agree so easily. “Okay~”

But in seeing how your son initially reacted, someone might as well stab your heart with a knife over and over. Perhaps batter it with a hammer. Crush it so hard that nothing would be left but small fragments. When the inevitable day comes where Sachiro could finally understand the reality behind his parents’ marriage, you knew that his reaction would devastate you. In the first place, it would be heartbreaking to know that he was a child born from an arranged marriage. A child born only for the sake of an heir. Did Satoru even genuinely love you back then? Or was Sachiro made at the time where he was still using you for his corporate ambitions? Either way, you weren’t ready for your son to suffer from the aftereffects of your broken marriage. This was all on your mind as you went through that night, rearranging your thoughts and emotions as your friend kept you company by heading off to the balcony after you had put Sachiro to bed.

“How’d you hear about us co-parenting?” you asked Ieiri, leaning your back against the banister as she took a drag from her cigarette. Your question was in reference to how the woman found it easy to join in on the earlier conversation.

“I didn’t mean to overhear this,” she quickly clarified, blowing the puff of smoke away from you, “but Satoru called Suguru this afternoon and he said that you two decided to just co-parent after a confrontation. That’s why I figured that I should check on you and see how you’re doing.”

You forced a smile. “I’m doing fine. I think we both handled it like mature individuals.”

Her downturned eyes measured your true emotions. “I’m surprised that he didn’t react spitefully about it. The Gojou I used to know wouldn’t have let this slide,” she contemplated, “He really does love you.”

“I think he just doesn’t want any further conflict between us.” A soft sigh crawled out of your lips. “He’s a father, so I understand why he doesn’t want to subject Sachiro to the kind of environment that he was exposed to as a child. He said my explanation was enough for him.”

“It’s because of love,” Ieiri reiterated. “He’s willing to just forget everything despite being forced to believe that his son was never alive. He’s willing to forget that because he doesn’t want to have a reason to stop loving you.”

For some silly reason, you could feel a tight squeeze in your chest. “He has to stop loving me. It’s for the best, and that’s what I told him, too. I gave him the closure that he deserved.”

Her eyes widened before the emotions on her face faded back into a bittersweet smile. “It’s sad to know that nothing can bring you two together again, but I support whatever decision you make. I want you and him to be happy, even if it means you won’t be together in the end.”

Just like her, you were content with your choice and your only hope was to continue living your life with your son and your fiancé, Toji, who deserved your love more than anyone else in this world. You could never turn your back on him when he had been there for you during your lowest. Hopefully, Satoru would be able to find his Toji too and not spend the rest of his life pining after his ex-wife. Doing that would save him years of pain and countless lonely nights.

But until the day comes, you had to show him that platonic love was all that you two would ever have for each other now.

“I’ll still care about him even if we aren’t together anymore,” you silently mumbled, reaching for the cigarette between Ieiri’s fingers before you placed the filter between your lips. As you inhaled from your mouth, a thick cloud of smoke was released shortly.

The owner of the cigarette herself was in catatonic shock before she quickly grabbed the stick back. “Y/N! Smoking is bad for your heart,” she ironically scolded like a mother would, “It can be fatal.”

You spread your lips into a small smile. “Death doesn’t really scare me. I’m only scared of leaving Sachiro behind.”

“Satoru, that’s enough.”

Despite the continuous warnings from his best friend to stop drowning himself in more glasses of whiskey, did he listen? No, of course, he didn’t. This was the only way he could numb his pain. The only possible way for him to forget, even for just a moment, that the woman he loved was no longer his. It wasn’t because his pride was wounded nor was his ego bruised after you had rejected him days ago, but the reason he still couldn’t get himself together was because his expectations of having a complete family was slapped by the reality that you and him could never, ever be the same again.

In those three years where you had been away, it seemed that you were the only one who had truly moved on while he was still stuck on that false hope that one day, you would return. One day, you will come back. He might even be lucky enough to be forgiven for his past mistakes. But since none of that happened and would happen in the future, Satoru couldn’t hide just how devastatingly shattered he was both inside and outside. There was no way of fixing such a man like him anymore.

“Come on,” Suguru continued to insist, reaching for the glass on Satoru’s hand while signaling his bartender to stop serving him drinks. As he was the owner of this bar, Suguru could might as well have the bouncers kick his best friend out at this point, but he knew that Satoru needed to release the buildup of pain inside him, so no matter how many times he would tell him to stop drinking, his warnings were futile. And in realizing this, Suguru let out a deep sigh. “It’s about time you let her go, Satoru. She’s moved on.”

The white-haired man laughed to himself—the kind of laugh that expressed agony rather than actual humor. “You know what’s funny?” he began, eyelids drooping heavily before he took another sip, “When I recovered some of my memories, I was so angry. I wanted to take my son away from her like she did to me. I was determined to act out of spite. I kept thinking about the situation for days and days and days, until my anger just ceased on its own because I realized that I truly can’t get mad at her given our situation, you know? I can’t stay angry at her when I also remember all the fucking things I did to her.” Satoru tightened his grip on the glass, so much that he could almost crush it. “And then she came to my office crying and telling me how I have no right to hurt her all over again. I felt like my whole world collapsed then and there. It was killing me how she was so sure that I’d ruin her again.”

Getou gave him slow, yet gentle pats on the back. “You made mistakes just as she made hers. You were both traumatized in different ways.”

“I made her miserable.” His voice was engulfed in sorrow. “I saw in her eyes how scared she was at the thought of us being together again… but I just wanted a complete family of my own, Suguru. It doesn’t matter to me if she loves someone else. I don’t want Sachi to grow up with a broken family like I did.”

His best friend’s eyes were full of sympathy. But aside from the pity in his gaze, a hint of distaste also lingered behind it. “While you were spending the past few years punishing yourself because of the divorce, she was in New York building a relationship with another man. I don’t think there was ever a time she even thought of you, Satoru. She didn’t care about you until you got into an accident and she was being blamed for it. If she says she deserves better than you, then you deserve someone better, too.”

Someone better. What even was the definition of that? How could someone be better than his twin flame? How could he meet the right person who could fill that spot when you were the only person that owned all of his heart and soul?

“Don’t say it like that,” Gojou softly replied before downing the liquor and feeling the spirit burning his throat.

“But it’s true.” Suguru shrugged. “Who knows she might have fallen for Toji way back when she was still married to you. Isn’t it baffling how fast she was able to move on? You’ve suffered for years thinking that your child was dead, while she was out there letting another man act as your son’s father. You’re allowed to be mad at her, Satoru. Don’t invalidate your feelings out of guilt.”

Fuck. The patchy memories of him breaking down in the hospital made Satoru finish his glass of whiskey. And another. And another. It had to stop; these painful memories, these painful emotions, this painful truth. He had lost count of the amount of liquor that he had forced down his throat until his senses were becoming more and more uncoordinated. His vision was hazy and his emotional state was entering its euphoric state now that he was indeed intoxicated. At least, even if this feeling was temporary, he had still managed to find an escape from the soreness of his heart. Time was moving fast every time he closed his eyes and opened them again—with faces of strangers passing by, with bass boosted music ringing in his ears, with… with Akemi’s beautiful face in his line of sight. Was this a dream?

“God, you’re really drunk,” spoke the woman before him. She cupped his cheeks with her soft hands and made him look at her chocolate brown eyes. “Are you okay?”

Satoru’s defensive instinct was to pull her hand away. “W-Why are you here?”

Suguru was the one who confirmed the reason for the woman’s arrival. “Akemi, you made it,” he said to her before gesturing his chin towards his best friend. “He’s fucking gone. He throws a tantrum every time we tell him to stop drinking.”

Because of the excessive alcohol in his system, Gojou was fading in and out of consciousness while Akemi and Getou were having their conversation. He could hear their muffled voices, but was too numb to react and join in. Hell, he didn’t even know he was already leaning his head on Akemk’s shoulder as she held him in her arms with all her strength.

“How long have you two been here, Suguru?”

“Around ten? Like, maybe two hours ago.”

“His mom’s really worried. She’s the one who messaged me.”

“I know. Should we take him home?”

“Fuck off,” Satoru muttered, detaching himself from Akemi and Suguru and turning around to face the bartender. “Hey… You… Another glass.”

Akemi sat on the stool next to him and rubbed his back. “Satoru, you could get alcohol poisoning, you know?”

He refused, stubbornly. “Don’t nag at me. If you’re gonna drag me home, then don’t waste your time because—”

“I get it. I get you, so I won’t,” she bargained expertly as if she had dealt with a drunkard before, “I’ll let you talk about your feelings until you’re satisfied, but you can’t drink anymore.”

Gojou lowered his head and chuckled mindlessly. “You can’t make me do that.”

Contrary to his claim, she actually did. And she did it by snatching the glass from his hand, only to drink the liquor straight without hesitation. She didn’t even grimace despite the strong taste of the whiskey. “I’m gonna drink every glass you’ll order, then.”

“‘Hime.” Satoru smiled, glancing at her red lips and her equally red cheeks. “You can’t handle alcohol.”

She took the challenge with a cute determined expression on her face. “Try me, ‘Toru.”

That was how the rest of the night was spent with drunken confessions and emotional outbursts. Gojou let every repressed feeling, every memory, every bit of his vulnerability out in the open knowing that he had someone listening to him. He had someone who offered her shoulders for him to cry on. He had someone whom he could vent on and not worry about being judged. Someone who smiled with him, laughed with him, and cried with him. When Getou told him he deserves someone better, was that ‘someone’ Akemi?

“Y/N said… she’d be so much happier…” Gojou tried to stop himself from wobbling in the parking lot, “...without me.”

Akemi, who had to take at least two glasses in Satoru’s stead, was also struggling to walk straight. “She’s both too good and too bad for you.”

He grinned through the heavy ache in his chest. “She faked her abortion… What if I fake my death in return? Maybe she’d be fully happy by then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Satoru. That’ll mess her up.”

While thinking of a response, he stumbled and nearly fell forward. He would have fallen face flat on the concrete floor if not for the woman who caught him at the perfect timing. “Did you know?”

Akemi looked up at him with her drunken eyes. “What?”

Satoru took a deep breath and looked up at the blanket of stars above him. “She told me to… find someone else.”

At the mention of that, your voice echoed inside his head, reminding him of the last advice you gave him before you walked out of his office (and ultimately, his life):

“Satoru, let’s move on,” you said, voice quivering in the middle of your sentence, “I hope you’ll meet someone new. Someone you’ll love and respect. Someone you can protect and comfort. Someone you will cherish and value for the rest of your life.” Agonizing silence suddenly filled the air. “That person isn’t me anymore.”

Was that ‘someone’ the same woman who continued to care for him as they stumbled inside her apartment at 3 AM? Someone who, in her insobriety, admitted how she wished he could finally accept that you were not the only woman he could ever love in this lifetime? What Akemi said was true. Drunk or not, Satoru was aware that he should open his eyes and realize that life was so much more than just hopelessly wishing for an estranged ex-wife to come running back into his arms. He caused you irreparable damage which, in turn, led you to do the same to him. The only way to get out of this loop was by learning how to forgive and let go.

You already made your choice, and that choice didn’t involve Satoru anymore.

“Isn’t it crazy?” A tipsy Akemi slurred as she helped Satoru sit on her couch. Her milky skin was glistening under the ambient lights—her chest looking like a blank canvas that he could freely paint on. “Y/N asked me a favor to keep an eye on you. I couldn’t tell her how dangerous her request was.”

Satoru got up, pressed his forehead against hers, and gripped her small waist while tracing her curve with the palm of his hand. “Why?”

“Because…” She looked up to meet his icy blue eyes. Her long lashes were heavily fluttering as she released a dejected sigh. “Because I might not be able to stop myself from falling for you.”

He blinked slowly and took it all in despite his inability to properly rearrange his thoughts. “That’s bad, huh?”

“Very bad,” she mumbled, burying his face on his chest while hugging him close. It was her liquor courage that allowed her to speak what was on her mind. “I know you wouldn’t dare catch me, too.”

Gojou embraced her tighter, holding onto her presence with fear that she might just be a figment of his imagination. “What if I will?”

The warmth coming from her slender body was in contrast to the cold tip of her index finger that she used to trace his lower lip. “Then, please don’t let me go.”

You see, in Gojou’s head, he wished that he had heard that from someone else. A specific someone whom he married and had a child with. Someone he wanted to care for until his hair turns gray and wrinkles start to appear on his face. Someone he vowed to love for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others until death do you part.

Death wasn’t the reason you two have parted. It was his failure as a husband, a lover, and a childhood friend. It was your unyielding decision to close your heart to him and be in the arms of another man. It was your cursed marriage that was never bound to work in the beginning as if the author of this romance book had always planned for a tragic ending.

But with Akemi right here in front of him, could he finally find his happily ever after?

As they held each other under the dark with nothing but the moonlight illuminating the dimmed room, Satoru touched her cheek and told her, “Thank you for being here for me.” And before he knew it, he was already diving in for a deep kiss. A kiss that felt so warm and tender. A kiss that felt so gentle and affectionate. A kiss that felt so oddly comforting. When was the last time he had kissed someone like this? He couldn’t remember, but he was too engulfed from the intensity of it and could feel himself reaching cloud nine.

He kissed her more. More. More. He kissed her passionately and enjoyed the sweet taste of her lips, sucking her lower lip until she allowed him access to her tongue. He relished from the synchronizing movements of their mouths as if they couldn’t get enough of just a simple kiss.

So, naturally, they moved to the bed.

And he undressed her the same way she undressed him, peeling her underwear to strip her bare while she was unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants.

And then he was on top of her, mapping her collarbone with his love bites. Her soft, milky flesh was filled with proof of how much Satoru had kissed her body.

And the next events were nothing but hazy memories of him intertwining their hands together, of her wrapping her bare legs around his hips, of him burying his member deep inside of her, of her scratching his back with every pound, of him squeezing her tender breast, of her moaning so wantonly in his ear, of them banging the walls all night because of the bed’s continuous movements.

“S-Satoru…!” She held on his shoulders the minute he was increasing his pace. Each thrust made her clench around his girth, forcing a guttural moan out of him as he felt how warm she was.

He lowered his head to kiss her forehead. “You’re so… beautiful.”

Frankly, that was the most he could remember while under the influence of alcohol.

“I could love you,” he raspily whispered to her after they were done doing the deed and he was now holding her on top of him as they tried to catch their breaths—their cold sweats making their bodies glisten under the moonlight. She could probably hear the beat of his heart as he embraced her tightly. “I just need to learn how to properly do it.”

She lazily moved her head upwards so she could peck his lips. “You can take your time.”

You were happy.

Repeat. You were happy. You were blissful. You were… (what else was a perfect word to describe it?) elated? Yes, you were that. You had to be that.

Things were back to normal ever since your last encounter with Gojou and you had nothing else to focus on except your business, your family, your fiancé, and most especially, your son. Satoru had long been out of the picture, but you already prepared for the moments where he would have to spend time with Sachiro, which also meant that you two would still cross paths every now and then. There was nothing wrong with that. You were simply worried that your ex-husband might find it unbearable to still see you around while knowing full well that you were living in your own domestic bubble without him. It must feel like you were rubbing it in his face how you were going to get married to the right man this time around, but you sincerely hoped that Satoru wouldn’t see it that way. What you hoped for was for him to simply wish for your happiness in life the same way he did on the day of your wedding to Toji.

Toji. As for him, you finally could spend ample time together to compensate for the lack of attention you had given him because of your whole family charade with Gojou. No matter how much Toji would deny that it didn’t matter to him since you did it out of consideration for your ex-husband’s amnesia, it was obvious that he did eventually reach his limit and it was the reason why he had revealed the divorce to him in the first place. He wasn’t being petty nor was he acting on jealousy. You were now seeing his actions as him protecting you from getting deeply involved with the man who made you hesitate walking down the aisle on your second wedding. To think of it, Toji must have been scared. Because if you ran away from your wedding after seeing Gojou again, how much more if you had to keep pretending to be your ex-husband’s wife for God knows how long? Toji surely believed that you might end up not even wanting to push through with your marriage anymore.

But you were not going to let that happen. He was the present and future now, and Satoru was just a past. You didn’t know how many times you had already reminded yourself of that, but you still found yourself clinging to that reminder every time you get up in the morning to see the face of another man. Not the one with white hair and blue eyes, but the one with dark hair and a scar on his lip.

“I’ll drop you off at work,” he offered as soon as you woke up next to him, “Then I can drop Sachiro at daycare after.”

You leaned in to give him his gentle morning kiss. “You might be too busy.”

“It’s okay. I can adjust my schedule for you.”

What a truly lucky woman you were.

This was your life now. Someday, you two would have to live under the same roof and have your own family. You would have to cook him breakfast, prepare his clothes, fix his necktie, and wish him a good day at work. It wouldn’t be your first time doing it for a ‘husband’, but you assured yourself that things would be better the second time around. You wouldn’t be subjected to an adulterous marriage, deception, and manipulation. You had forgiven Gojou for that and you weren’t blaming him anymore, however, part of you could still remember the times you had to sleep on an empty bed, or the times you had to cover up his cheating just to save face in front of your family, or the times you had cried yourself to sleep wondering when your husband would finally treat you as his wife. Some people might say that you were clinging onto his wrongdoings far too much than the times where he actually showed character development once he had fallen in love with you, but… your scars were deep and they never faded. So even if you have completely healed, it was normal for you to occasionally look back on how the wound was caused.

The same goes for him. Despite saying that he was willing to forgive you for hiding his child, you were completely aware that you caused him unforgivable pain, too. He must be struggling with the memories of him suffering for the past three years and he was doing his best to just not be reminded of it all. It was a matter of learning to forgive, but not exactly forget.

And again, with the choice you made, you had to be happy.

Your heart was in peace because you were doing everything to own up to your decision. You had to live your life the same way you had been living back in New York where you had all the space to only think about your son and your career. What was so different this time around? It should be a normal day at Hearte and you presented yourself as this cheerful boss that they adored when you entered the office that morning, greeting every employee, and thanking them for showing up to work on time.

The marketing department and the social media manager were the ones who had been fairly busy after the launch because they have had to deal with the online backlash, but you trusted your team and they made sure to do some damage control to prevent your fashion line from earning a bad reputation before it could even make a name in the industry. On the brighter side, everything else was less hectic as compared to the weeks before your launch. Now, you had to start planning the concept for the upcoming summer collection and your days would mostly be occupied by meetings, but there was no rush in doing such since you also had to monitor the sales department to know which pieces were selling versus those that weren’t.

Exclusivity was big for luxury brands and that was what you were striving for. Though, it was an utter lie for you to say that the opinion of the general public wouldn’t matter when every feedback that you receive could actually help you determine how your brand was being perceived. Constructive criticism was beneficial in that sense. What wasn’t okay was the unnecessary hate you were getting from strangers who didn’t even know anything about your life. Ian constantly told you not to read the comment section on articles, at least for your peace of mind, and you did find it much better for your mental health when you stopped reading about the false claims that people were saying about you.

Besides, the only other person who could attest to the things you had been through back in New York was your best friend, Akemi, who was oddly late for work today.

“Feels weird that I’m earlier than you,” you quipped, casually walking inside her office to see her scrambling to open her laptop. She did not meet your eyes when you walked in and instead, did as much to avoid it. “Is everything okay?”

It looked as if she was shaking away a deep thought. “Yeah, sorry I’m late. The subway was too crowded today.”

“That’s okay. Are you really not going to accept my offer, though?” you said, sitting on the couch while browsing through the moodboard on your iPad. “It’ll help you manage your commute time if you have your own car.”

Akemi adamantly shook her head, but still sounded grateful for your consideration. “Buying me a car of my own isn’t your responsibility, Y/N. Don’t worry about it.”

“Then, you can have the Corvette if you want. I’ve been planning to buy a convertible BMW, anyway. It’s less flashy.” With all this car talk, there was one person that reminded you who was into collecting sports cars back when he was a child until now, and you smiled fondly as you remembered how he fulfilled that dream the moment he became an adult. Unfortunately, that car was caught in a collision and you had no idea whether or not he would still get a replacement for it. “The Corvette kinda looks like a cheaper version of Satoru’s McLaren, isn’t it? That’s why I wanna let go of it. I wanna let go of everything that reminds me of him.”

Your friend didn’t respond to your joke the way you expected. In fact, she stopped typing on her laptop as soon as you mentioned your ex-husband’s name. “...Ah, is that so?”

Your response was to nod and look at her. “Yeah. Oh, I don’t think I’ve told you this yet because I’ve been so busy, but he and I decided to co-parent Sachiro. He was actually surprisingly cooperative about it.”

“Was he?” She continued checking her emails, but her voice was getting softer. Perhaps she was just as surprised as you were because who knew that Satoru Gojou would actually choose to be amicable with his ex-wife instead of filing a custody claim?

“I told him to move on,” you recounted the emotional conversation as you got up and stared at the floor to ceiling window, “I’d really love it if he finds someone new. He deserves it too, you know? He also had a hard time when I left him and I don’t want this loneliness to eat his heart away. He’s a really sweet lover as long as he’s with someone he genuinely adores, so if he meets the right woman someday, I’d be happy. I’d wish him well. And despite everything, I’ll always keep him in my heart.” God, you didn’t even know why you were pouring everything out to her right now, but you couldn’t tell these feelings to your family without receiving comments on the side. At least, Akemi wouldn’t do that. She had always been receptive to your feelings and had proven herself to be unbiased with her judgment, so it was okay for you to release how you truly felt about your ex-spouse. “Satoru is my first love and he’ll always remain that.”

It was nice, truthfully. It was such a nice feeling to reminisce your childhood with him, especially before his parents’ relationship affected the way he perceived the world. Satoru Gojou used to be a harmless child who dreamed of having his own family with the person he loved. Even back then, he was a hopeless romantic. He craved for love and attention, and was the happiest whenever he received it. Things might have changed when you two grew older, but you were certain that Satoru was slowly returning to the old him. All he needed was the right person by his side.

You didn’t hear anything from Akemi except her keeping her head down and sniffing silently, wiping her eyes as she hid the tears that flooded them. Silly you. You probably moved her to tears with your poignant confession. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d cry from that,” you said, chuckling to lighten up the conversation.

“No, it’s just…” She struggled from an internal thought before taking a deep breath. “Y/N, you're the strongest and most genuine person I’ve met, and I truly do love you as a friend. I… I don’t deserve you at all.”

You walked to her table and offered a handkerchief to wipe her tearful eyes. “Hey, I should be the one telling you that. I feel like I ask too much from you. I know you’re constantly checking on Gojou even though you’re busy, so I appreciate that you’re going out of your way to make sure he won’t do anything harmful to himself.”

She tightened her grip on the Hermès cloth that you handed her. “Please don’t be too nice to me,” she pleaded, looking at you with a rueful gaze. “There’s something you need to know.”

“Hmm?” You waited patiently with wide eyes that were ready to understand whatever it was that she was going to say. But after a minute had passed, and another minute, and another minute more, all Akemi did was to cover her face with her shaky hands. It occurred to you that maybe she was going through a really difficult time and you sympathized with her emotional well-being knowing that she wasn’t usually the kind of person who would openly cry in front of someone. “It’s okay. If you can’t talk about it now, you can do it once you’re ready,” you reassured, rubbing her shoulder and deciding to give her some space. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you. I promise to repay you for being there for me.”

Akemi was a shitty friend. She didn’t need anyone telling her that because she was able to admit it herself. She wasn’t going to sugarcoat her actions in order to lessen the guilt in her heart, but it was that same guilt that prevented her from spilling the whole truth to her best friend.

How could she do that? You see, she asked that to herself countless times the morning she woke up after her drunken session with your ex-husband, and she still couldn’t stop herself from being too overwhelmed by the idea of betraying her friend. So, to ask herself again, how could she do that?

Firstly, why don’t we list down the reasons why Akemi was considering herself as a terrible friend?

Sleeping with your best friend’s ex is not okay.

It’s not okay! Although to be fair, she and Satoru were too intoxicated to control their actions. They were driven by lust and high emotions, which were major key factors as to why two individuals—particularly that of a man and woman—would resort to sleeping together. Aside from that, Gojou had been divorced for three years, so technically, he was free to sleep with whoever he wanted. He wasn’t tied to anyone nor was he cheating on anyone.

But the thing was, that was still such a sickening mindset and Akemi was angry at herself that she even clung to that defense at the pinnacle of her guilt.

Falling in love with your best friend’s ex is even worse.

The worst! She knew how wrong it was, but how could she explain it to you that she never expected to grow such feelings for your ex-husband? How could she stop herself when she had to spend time with him as if she was already his lover? It was an inevitable situation and she would consider it total bullshit if she denied the fact that she was attracted to him. With his good looks and charming personality, who could resist him? Obviously, she knew his red flags and she was aware of what had happened between you two, but she also recognized how extremely sorry he was for the things he did. She was a witness to Satoru’s side of the coin, which gave her a better understanding of him as a vulnerable, lonely person like she was. But should that be enough for her to start a relationship with the man?

No, that was not enough.

Hiding it from your best friend is inexcusable.

It’s betrayal! Even if she asked every person on this planet, they would all say the same thing. This situation was not livable and she had to tell you the truth if she really valued your friendship and respected you as a human being. She would need to break it to you and be prepared for the consequences of her actions. Would she lose her title as your trusted business partner? Would she lose her spot as your trusted friend? Would she lose you?

It crushed her heart that, yes, she definitely would.

But what about Gojou, you may ask? How did he feel about this? Well, that was exactly what burdened Akemi’s mind on the way to her apartment when you advised her to go home early so she could ‘rest her mind’. Little did you know, she couldn’t exactly free her mind from overthinking when she was too submerged by the flashbacks of her morning-after with your ex-husband.

“Akemi, what have we done…?” Satoru didn’t even hide it in his fully sober eyes that he was regretting what happened last night. The way he was moving away from her, the way he was quickly slipping a shirt on—did he not remember how he kissed her and told her he would learn to love her? Was he more bothered that he woke up in another woman’s bed and not yours?

Akemi would have been extremely hurt if only she wasn’t panicking herself. Because at the sight of your half-naked ex-husband in front of her, all she could think of was how you would feel had you known about this. This was wrong. Wrong in every sense and in every angle. She unknowingly and dangerously threw herself in the middle of love and friendship, and now it became an internal conflict that she could not escape. “I… I don’t know. We were drunk and it just… happened.”

Gojou looked at her and said nothing. Nothing! And that was the scariest part because it seemed like he was going to lose it once he opened his mouth. He was clearly thinking about how wrong it was and how it would hurt you. You. Not her feelings, but yours. Akemi was sure that his mind was only filled with you when he headed out to the balcony. “Fuck. I need some fresh air.”

“Wait, Satoru—”

“Let’s forget about last night,” was his curt reply when he walked away without even looking back.

She hasn’t even been explicitly rejected, yet why did it hurt so much?

They both did it, yet why was the pain so much heavier on her?

Akemi’s eyes were brimming with hot tears. She should have seen this coming. She should have stayed in her lane, remained sober, and didn’t let herself be entangled with a man whose history with his ex-wife was still fresh on his mind. What more could she expect?

No, there was nothing she should expect from him, so she swallowed her feminine pride and chased after him on the balcony, driven by an innate inhibition that made her disregard her feelings in order to protect her heart. With her hand clutching the towel around her chest, she stared at Gojou’s back as she approached him. “Satoru, it’s my fault…” she faltered, trying not to sound weak, “I know you think I’m a mistake and that you’ll just consider me a hookup that you’ll easily forget about, but I want you to know that I… I won’t get mad at you for it. You love Y/N and you feel sorry for her. I do, too. I didn’t mean to do this to her.”

When Satoru turned around, his stance was different from the one he showed in her bedroom. This time, his expression was apologetic as if he could feel pensive sadness at the sight of a guilt-ridden, teary-eyed Akemi. “I’m not blaming you. I’m sorry,” he immediately said, taking a few steps forward to close the distance between them. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m just mostly mad at myself because I dragged you into this when you’re her friend.”

“We were intoxicated.” That was the excuse, but also the plain truth.

“I know.” He ran his thumb across her cheek to wipe her faint tears. “I’d still own up to it. Don’t blame yourself. You already do so much for me.”

She didn’t expect the next words that suddenly came out of her mouth. They became fluid with a bottle cap to stop them from spilling. “But I willingly did those things for you.” And just before she realized the meaning behind her statement, it was too late to take it back.

Gojou was already rubbing his temple with a mirthless laugh. “Akemi, don’t get attached to me. You deserve better.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t.” She held his hand and squeezed it. “Yet you’re just making it harder for me to leave you alone.”

The man sighed and pressed his forehead against hers, letting the tips of his white hair fall messily before his eyes. “Do you remember what I said before you fell asleep in my arms?” he asked while seemingly in an inner turmoil of his own.

Just when she thought he didn’t remember their sweet moment post-sex. Here he was reminding her of it and it was causing an exponential increase in her heartbeat. It was crystal clear that he was referring to the part where he said he could love her, but he would have to learn how to properly do it first. Was that him finally considering the idea of starting new with someone else? Was that him finally letting you go? Surely, it was a domino effect that required both. “I do...”

“I’m sorry I got you involved.” He closed his eyes as if he was cursing himself mentally. “I think it’s best that we just forget about what happened between us.”

She completely understood why, but deep inside her, she couldn’t hide how much it stung. “We should pretend it never happened,” she agreed, “You can’t dive into another relationship right away.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she returned.

…

……

………

Normally, this was the part where they would have to separate and just move on with their lives. This was the part where Gojou would walk out of her apartment and promise to himself that he would never come back. After all, Akemi meant nothing to him. She didn’t mean anything to him. Yet why did he hesitate? Why did he spend another minute of silence staring at her eyes as though he was contemplating about taking risks and starting anew?

Satoru had two roads in front of him, and he ended up going to the path that led to her.

How did he establish his choice? He did it by kissing her. It wasn’t just him leaning in and crashing his lips onto hers. It was also her stepping forward at the same time to meet his lips with an affectionate kiss as if their attraction to one another was brought by gravity. They shared a deep, passionate kiss like they were sucking each other’s presence with the movements of their mouths. There was no going back anymore. They were both sober, both able to remember this moment with a clear vision. They were both lonely, but not when they were next to each other. And by the time he pulled away, his cerulean eyes were coruscating under the sunlight. They reflected sorrow, but also hopefulness. “She said I… I should move on and be with someone else,” he claimed, recalling the words that must have been flooding his mind.

Akemi tugged his shirt. “Then, what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know…” His breathing became still. “I just can’t promise you commitment right now.”

“We can take it slow,” she offered, “We can figure it out.”

Satoru pulled her to his chest. “She’s gonna spend the rest of her life hating me for this,” he stated, pressing his lips on her temple, “But Suguru’s right, too. I deserve to find my own happiness with someone else, just like how she found hers with another man.”

“You do.” She tightened her arms around his torso. “I know this is so fucked up and I’m a really shitty fucking friend, but… I’m a mess. I’m a mess, Satoru. I like you and I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t, but I want to be loved and I know that’s what you need, too.”

He pulled away, only because he wanted to see how genuine her eyes were. “Do you think you can handle someone like me?”

Her mind said no, but her heart said, “Yes.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You hadn’t heard from Gojou for the past two weeks despite telling you that he was going to contact you about a formal schedule on when he should be allowed to see his son. You were simply waiting for his word, concluding that he might be having a really hectic week at the Gojou Group, which was why he couldn’t even reach out to you. It even came to a point where you were tempted to just contact him first, but Ian told you that you shouldn’t initiate anything and to just wait for your ex-husband to decide on his own.

Frankly, you didn’t want to rush into it. You were just worried because Sachiro had been asking you about when he could see his dad and you couldn’t bear having to explain again and again that his father was a busy man.

The waiting game sucked.

But also, you were able to pay attention to more important things. During the period of waiting for Satoru to contact you, you discussed some things about the co-parenting setup with your family, mainly pointing out that you wanted to change Sachiro’s legal name to his father’s. It was something that you had already decided on back when you were in New York because you did anticipate that Satoru would want to make his son carry his name for legal purposes, especially since Sachiro would (assumingly) be the sole heir to his multinational conglomerate. At first, Gen rejected the idea believing that Satoru could use it against you in the future, but it was your father that reasoned with her, stating that changing Sachiro’s family name wouldn’t mean that your ex-husband would also have the custodial rights. And since Ian was there to confirm it, they eventually agreed to your plans.

Now, the only problem was executing the plan with your baby daddy and convincing him about flying to New York City within the next few weeks so that you two could fix Sachiro’s birth certificate and citizenship.

Nine days, you counted. It took Satoru nine days to finally contact you and he did it through Miwa who sent you such a professional email about her boss’ request to have Sachiro’s weekends spent with him. The schedule was still favorable for you because your ex-husband only wanted Fridays to Sundays while the rest of the week was all yours to have. Fair enough. But you still called Miwa that afternoon to ask her if you could meet with her boss personally and talk to him about New York.

“Ms. Y/N, how are you?” she quickly greeted you as soon as she answered the phone.

“I’m great. How ‘bout you?” you returned her cordiality, “You didn’t have to be so formal with the email and all. You could have just told me through text.”

You could sense her apologetic smile on the other end of the line. “Chairman wanted to make sure that everything will be communicated professionally. He didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for you.”

“I see…” You let out an awkward laugh. So, he really wanted to stay professional now, huh? “Is he still in the office? I was thinking of meeting up with him at the coffee shop across the street.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Y/N. He went home early today.”

In that case, you hoped he wouldn’t mind if you visited him at the penthouse personally. You two broke it off on good terms now (and you still left a few things in your shared home), so you figured that there was no harm in coming back to that sentimental place. Besides, you could use the excuse of picking up some of the bags you had left in the closet before you could proceed to actually propose your plans for Sachiro. You were already looking forward to seeing his reaction once you told him that you were willing to have Sachiro acquire his family name because your ex-husband himself had always wanted his son to be acknowledged by the whole world as his heir.

Though, another tiny little problem with that was the media’s knowledge about your son, and Toji was the one who reminded you of it while you were driving through the city.

“No one really knows about Sachi aside from us,” he pointed out a fact that you seemed to have overlooked, “The public speculates that you had a miscarriage after the infidelity scandal was exposed, while some others think you secretly gave birth to him in New York. They know you’re a private person, but not to that extent, you get what I mean? They’d come for you if they found out that what you told Satoru was that you terminated your pregnancy. You know how cancel culture works in this society. People are gonna boycott your brand and send you a tirade of hateful words online.”

You held back a sigh as you maneuvered the car to the left. “Maybe, I… I can talk to Gojou about it.”

“About what?”

“About announcing it in public that he and I have a child together,” you introduced the idea, “Or is that uncomfortable for you?”

He denied it straight away. “It’s fine with me if he’s gonna cooperate with you.”

“Okay…”

“You do what’s best. I gotta go,” said your fiancé, “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Alright, bye. I love you.”

That should add another reason on your list as to why you do need to have this talk with your ex-husband in person. Aside from your initial plan, you would also have to try and let him understand why it would be advantageous for the both of you to voluntarily reveal Sachiro’s existence instead of letting it be exposed by the media, because that would be problematic, not only for his and your of your publicities, but also for your son who would be in the middle of all this.

But what if Gojou decided to turn his back on you after you announce your child to the public? What if he exposed you himself and tell them that you lied about your abortion? What if he provided all the receipts of you hiding your child in another country while he was suffering from depression back in Japan?

That would truly be the end of you.

You still had hope, though. You had hope because you knew that Satoru was not the kind of person who would destroy you anymore. He was now the kind of man who would beg for his ex-spouse to come back, swallow his pride, and willingly subject himself to be a victim of adultery as long as you would become his wife again. If he could extend his vulnerability that much for you, then would you truly believe that he was still hell bent on getting his revenge?

You were a sanguine person to begin with, and you kept that positive mindset as you finally stepped out of the elevator before walking to the foyer of the penthouse. It took you by surprise when you saw that your wedding portraits were neatly stacked in a corner along with your bags, shoes, and other things that you owned as if this home no longer offered any space for you. Satoru must have decided to throw them away now, but why did that cause tiny pricks in your heart?

“Satoru?” you called, increasing the volume of your voice in this seemingly empty house. “Satoru, I’m here.”

Should you just ring his phone? Or should you see him in the bedroom? Or perhaps he was busy reading books in his home office?

“Y/N?” The answer was there when he was descending the staircase in a hasty manner. His hair, disheveled. His chest, glistening with sweat. He had nothing but sweatpants on so it made more sense that he was in the gym prior to coming down. “What are you doing here?”

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” You smiled and tried to be casual, putting your feet together and keeping a safe distance from your ex-husband. His crystal blue eyes did not shine when he looked at you. “I just wanted to talk to you about, um… Well, I was planning for us three to go to New York and fix Sachi’s papers.”

Satoru looked uneasy, but still presented a composed version of himself as he placed his hands inside his pockets. “You mean change his name?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that. I know we can have people process the papers for us, but I also thought that it could be a great opportunity for me to also show you where and how I raised him back there.”

“Okay.” His answer was short, but direct to the point. And as he looked away from you, he was throwing his head back as if he was trying to free himself from all the stress that he was possibly experiencing internally. What made you curious was the haze of guilt in his eyes. “Listen, can we just have this talk another day? Better yet, just set the date on when you wanna go to New York and we can fly private.”

His dismissive attitude made you regret coming here at all, but how stupid could you be? Of course, it wasn’t like things were sunshines and rainbows between you two now. He probably still held some grudge from your last conversation. “Alright,” you softly replied, “I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I didn’t mean to disturb your peace or anything. I was just excited to let you know that we can change Sachi’s name.”

He slightly turned away. “Did you come here alone? Do you need a ride home?”

“No, I’m fine. I drove here,” you insisted, stuffing your throat with the awkward air. “I’ll personally take Sachi to you this weekend. He misses you.”

“I miss him, too.”

You kept a steady breath and considered whether it was the best time to leave. He must be feeling so lonely and you were the cause of it. You were even shoving it at him by going here. “Gojou, I’m sorry if I was too harsh last time.”

“Y/N, stop apologizing. I don’t deserve it,” he quickly replied and shook his head, “You said you’ll be happier without me. So unless it’s necessary, let’s not cross each other’s paths anymore, okay?”

Damn. “Yeah, I guess we—”

“Satoru?”

You must be dreaming. You must be fucking dreaming.

Because if you weren’t and if this was your devastating reality, then why was Akemi Hirai coming down the stairs with nothing but your husband’s shirt on? Why did your best friend look horrified as soon as she noticed your presence in this penthouse that you, for a year, lived in as Satoru Gojou’s wife? Why was she hiding her face behind him as if she was in deep shame?

Speechless. That was what you were as you ended up scoffing at the ridiculousness of this situation. You stood unblinking, unable to process the sight in front of you. “I…” You couldn’t even find the right words! “I… I’m confused. Why are you…?”

Gojou was clearly panicking, but he was also focused on measuring your possible outburst. “Y/N, I was going to tell you about this.”

You clenched your hand into a fist. “...Are you together?”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Akemi said “yes” and Satoru said “no”.

“It’s complicated,” your ex-husband tried to pacify, reaching out for your arm before you moved away. He was looking so desperate as if you had caught him cheating on you the same way he used to do with Sera. “I’m sorry. I know you’re mad right now and you deserve to be, but please just direct your anger at me. Don’t get mad at ‘Kemi.”

They were even on a nickname basis now, too? You were a minute away from exploding, yet all you could do was stare at them in catatonic stupor. “Since when?” you questioned, eyeing your best friend. “Akemi?”

“A c-couple days ago,” she answered with a quivering voice and tear-filled eyes. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t mean to hurt you like this.”

“I’m not hurt,” you claimed—your mouth, tight and grim. Your expression, cold and unrelenting. Still, you couldn’t help but notice how both of their lips were swollen from all the kissing they must be having. It made you feel sick inside. “This just doesn’t make sense to me.”

Doesn’t it, really? Or were you just in denial of the fact that this was bound to happen one way or another? She had been spending time with him even back when he was at the hospital. She had been comforting him up to when he learned about the divorce. She had been there for him when he recovered most of his memories. She was his confidant, a friend he could count on, a person he could lean on. She was his Toji. So, what right do you have to get mad? What right do you have when, not more than two weeks ago, you were the one shoving your ‘happy relationship with Toji’ to Satoru’s face? What right do you have when you were the one who told him to find someone else to love so he could stop chasing after you? What right do you have when… when… deep, deep down, you knew that Akemi was the perfect woman for him?

Betrayal? How could she betray you when you were divorced? How could she have wronged you when you were the one who had unknowingly pushed this agenda?

Questions. Too many questions. Too many emotions.

“Y/N.” Satoru held your hand. “Let’s talk about it.”

They must have pitied you. “No. Just answer me honestly,” you said, pulling your hand away and preventing the pain from gnawing at your chest, “Are you using my best friend to get back at me? Because if that’s the case…”

His gaze lingered between you and her, contemplating his answer before opening his mouth to confirm how he truly felt. Truthfully, he looked emotionally exhausted. He looked absolutely over it as though he just wanted to completely stop associating himself with you and all the melancholic memories of your past, probably wishing to himself that he just wanted a break and a new life without any trace of his ex-wife. As the thought of it sent a pang to your chest, you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to hear his response. “I’d like to start new with her,” he said, feeling sorry for you, “I wanna get to know her more and perhaps make things work. I was gonna ask for your permission, but—”

“Stop.” You forced an upward curve on your lips as you avoided both of their eyes. He wanted to ask your permission? He was making you look pathetic with that statement alone. “I get it. It’s fine. It’s not like I’m still your wife or anything.” Being a woman was such a difficult role, wasn’t it? Because now you have to protect your feelings by putting on a mask before proceeding to ramble. “It’s none of my business anymore and I’m glad you listened to my advice. Just don’t… don’t you ever break Akemi’s heart.”

Satoru looked down, clearly cognizant of your ingenuity. “I won’t.”

Akemi, who had been wiping her dampened cheeks, walked closer to pull you into a tight hug. “Y/N, I’m really, really sorry… I don’t know how else I can ask for forgiveness. I’ll go down on my knees if you want me to.”

Stop. Stop. STOP!

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” As odd as it may seem, you stayed calm and withdrew yourself from her embrace. Everything else after that was you trying to be civil as you turned to Gojou while preparing to leave. “I’ll contact Miwa about New York, but if you can’t make it, then I can just process the papers myself.”

Was it because he felt sorry that was why he offered you a sympathetic gaze? “No, no. I’ll be there with you, Y/N. I promise. Us—you, me, and Sachi.”

You didn’t have the strength to say anything anymore. You didn’t have the ability to react. All you could think of right now was to leave as soon as you can, walk as fast as you can, and step back inside the elevator knowing that your departure wouldn’t mean anything much to those two people up in the penthouse. In this puzzling situation, you ended up staring at the view of the city from the glass walls of the elevator as the platform lowered down level by level.

It was unfair for you, but did you consider that maybe, it was unfair for them, too? It was unfair for Akemo who might have tried her best not to fall in love despite always voicing out how much she was wishing to be in a relationship again. It was unfair for Satoru who was now finding his fresh new start with someone who could actually accept him for who he was. There was no betrayal. There was no cheating. Just two people who didn’t mean to catch feelings for one another, and you were once again the antagonist that was holding them back from their happily ever after.

How funny was it that this felt like Sera all over again when it shouldn’t be?

Unfortunately, you couldn’t hold it any longer when you broke down inside the elevator with no one else to comfort your pain but yourself.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[tired-bisexual-brainrot]

ok so i’m rewatching stranger things again but i’m really analyzing all of the byler details and 13 minutes into the first episode, we have this:

*the boys park their bikes at school in the morning*

mike: “that’s weird. i don’t see him [will]”

lucas: “i’m telling you, his moms right. he probably just went to class early again.”

dustin: “yeah, he’s always paranoid Gursky’s gonna give him another pop quiz.”

this was right after joyce called the wheelers to ask if will had slept over last night. karen obviously told her family who had called and what they wanted when they were eating breakfast.

lucas and dustin don’t seem concerned at all. it’s just any other day to them, wills probably already at school right?

but mike, mike knew. when he met up with lucas and dustin on their way to school, he probably talked abt it the whole bike ride there. “wills mom called, she said wills wasn’t home this morning” or maybe “what if will didn’t actually make it home?” or “my mom said mrs byers sounded worried over the phone, do you guys think he’s ok?” and lucas and dustin probably responded with things like “he’s fine mike you’re getting worked up over nothing” and “jeez mike calm down will must’ve left early like his mom said” but mike knew. he always pays attention to will. he’s always been in tune with him, knowing when something is off, when something doesn’t feel right with will.

then, directly after this, troy comes up and starts bullying them. he mocks them, calls them freaks. think about how that would make mike feel, mike who is severely repressed and deals with internalized homophobia. mike, who just got done ranting about will to his friends for the entire bike ride to school. said friends that were totally uncaring abt the whole situation at first and weren’t worried at all. troy called him a freak, and he believes it. even if this specific instance of troys bullying isn’t directly correlated to his liking of will/being gay, he still would make it about that in his mind.

you can see the look on his face right after troy calls I’m a freak (sorry for the bad quality)

lucas looks annoyed, dustin looks like he wishes he were anywhere else. but mike looks different. that’s the face of someone beating themself up abt being gay. he’s taking that word “freak” and internalizing it, because he must be a freak for liking will right?

then when hopper comes to the school to ask them some questions abt will (again, sorry for the bad quality)

mike is full of sorrow. he just realized that he was right the whole time. lucas and dustin still don’t get it, they’re just arguing with each other. but mike just realized that will is missing, and that that strange worried feeling hes had since will left his house the night before was right. he then immediately jumps in and practically begs hopper to let them help, and when hopper says no, he feels hopeless.

[crispin-kreme]

heyy cutiee~ I’m not sure if you take requests but times are hard rn for me can you do an enhypen imagine/reaction where reader goes to enhypens house crying at night because their parents are fighting non stop? :,) thankuu before hand 😓

enhypen’s reaction to you coming at their place because your parents are fighting.

a lil note: i don’t really take requests bUt- this will be a special for you if this can help you cope <33 this also took a bit longer than expected- im so sorry for the delay 🙇‍♀️

gn! reader x bf! ot7 enha (assuming yall dating ok—)

warnings: parents fighting, mentions of divorce, traumas may get triggered

there was screaming in your household here and there. your mother and father fighting over for the nth time. you hid in your room, covering your ears and crying. you held your phone trying to call your significant other, hoping that you can escape for a while and deafen the sounds of your parents’ argument

HEESEUNG

you have talked to him over the phone and told him that you would come to his place

as he hears your cries over the phone he starts to worry

stutters a lot from worry as he tries to reply

“get h-here safely, o-okay?” he says before he ends the call

as heeseung lets you in his apartment you breakdown in his arms. “shh... its okay.” he softly reassures you. you both sit on the couch as heeseung softly rubs your back. he listens to what happened to your parents, even though it wasn’t audible that much because of your sobs. “...so they might separate?” he asks. you nodded in reply. heeseung just hugged you deeply. he couldn’t say anything. he slowly cups your face and wipes your tears “stay here for the night, hm? i’ll tell your mother that you’re staying here.” heeseung suggested as you nodded in reply. how lucky you have someone like him.

JAY

he wasn’t picking up

i mean considering the time it was abt 3am and your parents were still fighting.

so after one last call you decided to flee your palce

and you also hope that jay opens his door for you at this ungodly hour

knocking rapidly, jay suddenly wakes up from his 2 hour sleep. he groans and opens his door. “its three in the morning who the he– oh my... y/n.” he sees your crying figure and ushers you to come inside. “get inside its freezing out here.” jay says as he leads you in. you both stay at his bed. you drink the glass of water he brought for you. jay embraced you and kissed your forehead for reassurance. he knew that your parents were fighting again. it happens non stop. “what if they get physical with each other?” you sobbed out “they’re not gonna be like that.” jay says, trying to reassure you.

JAKE

oh gosh- this boy is gonna stutter so bad when he knows your situation pt2

“if you can- c-come to my p-place? please- you’ll be s-safe here.” he says over the phone

and yes you agree to go to his house

waits for you patiently at the door

as you come inside of jake’s apartment, jake suddenly threw his arms around you. you just sobbed all your emotions out on jake, then rambling about how your parents are fighting “wait- a divorce?” jake suddenly pulls away to see your crying face. “don’t think that way, sweetie. they’ll never do that.” he tries to reassure you. he then kisses you on your forehead.

SUNGHOON

embodiment of the standing emoji

boy did he not know what to do once he starts hearing you cry and your parents screaming in the bg

offers you his place over the phone

you actually speed run to his place

sunghoon finds you crying at the doorstep. he ushers you in and leads you to his bedroom since you have to rest at this ungodly hour. he gives you some tea to calm down and then listens to your parents’ ruckus. “i’m sorry that’s happening.” sunghoon frowned as you unconsciously laid on the bed. “its okay... i just want to be with you. i want them to stop fighting.” were your last words before you drifted to sleep. sunghoon looks at you and placed a soft kiss on your lips “i’ll be here for you always.” he replied.

SUNOO

is very worried

when you apologize for disturbing his beauty sleep he would say “no no its okay! just come here safetly.”

ig he would really pace around the apartment as he waits for you

once he sees you his worry is all gone

“sunoo!” you exclaimed as you feel sunoo hug you tightly. “darling, are you alright? are you hurt?” sunoo worriedly asks as he sees your tear stained face. “my parents...” “they’re fighting again?” sunoo asks. you nodded and cried into sunoo’s arms as he embraces you with all his love. he softly rubs your back and kisses your forehead “cry it all out.” he states as you then continue on the night spending time venting to him.

JUNGWON

i feel like he’ll try to stay calm

probably would know that your parents is fighting

is worried sm inside

paces around the room pt 2

jungwon has given you a heads up that his door his unlocked. you silently and carefully came inside his apartment. he wasn’t in his living room so you decided to go to his bedroom. there, you see him pacing around but it soon stops as he recognizes your presence. “y/n! you’re here.” he says as he welcomes you with his biggest hug. you started to cry and sob in his arms “its okay... its okay.” jungwon reassures you. truthfully, he was speechless to these events and all he could do is to be there for you.

NI-KI

panic

when he hears your parents fighting in the bg while you were calling him, he gets shocked

immediately offers his place to you

stutters in the call pt 3

“get inside! its freezing out there.” riki exclaims in worry as he pulls you in his home. you sit on his couch as he stands before you. “are you alright? your parents seemed like they had a heated argument.” he tells you. riki observed your eyes filled with tears, making him worry more. you didn’t speak- all you did was cry, unable to put words out. riki sits beside you and engulfs you in his embrace. “i’m here for you. don’t worry.” he says.

[free-pool-trash]

everything - peter maximoff

PART 2 TO DISAPPOINTMENT (you can read it on its own but it might be a tiny bit confusing)

hey guys, i missed peter and i hope this makes you guys feel better abt the first part of this fic <33

comments/reblogs/asks always appreciated <3

word count: 4k

warnings: angst, panic attack, fluff, probably some mistakes its 3:33am 😩✋🏻

summary: peter comes to your new reality <3

masterlist

His fingers drummed rapidly against the metal table located in the jet hanger, beneath the basketball court. Hank waited too, although, the beast was considerably calmer than Peter was at the moment.

“The radio has been quiet for like twenty minutes… do you think something went wrong?” Peter forced the words out in quick succession as he gnawed on his lips.

Hank sighed as that was the fourth time Peter had asked that question, every five minutes for the past twenty minutes- like clockwork, he’d asked Hank the same thing. The only varient was that the question started with, “It’s been five minutes...,” then, “It’s been ten minutes…,” to, “it’s been fifteen minutes…”

Hank understood that the boy was nervous, he was too, afterall Peter wasn’t the only one with a girlfriend on the uncharacteristically sketchy mission. However, if Peter asked him the same question one more time, he’d turn blue out of annoyance.

“Peter, I’m begging you to stop asking. They’re probably fine, the mutant’s energy surges probably just fried the radio,” Hank explained, trying to sound convincing for his and Peter’s peace of mind.

Peter gaped in response, “And that doesn’t worry you?”

Hank threw his head back with exhaustion and groaned, “Of course it does,” he started, running his hands down his face before continuing, “But stressing out about it isn’t going to do anyone any good. All we can do is wait for them to get back,” he finished, fixing Peter with a stern look as he’d began to bounce his knee relentlessly- annoyingly.

His fingers drumming faster than the human eye could see, his knee jolting at a similar speed, a feeling of unmistakable dread had started forming in the boy’s stomach, and no amount of finger tapping or knee bouncing could make it go away.

He had a feeling in his gut, one that he wouldn’t be able to back up with any type of logic or reason, but regardless, he had a feeling seated deep in the pit of his stomach that told him, extremely definitely, that something wasn’t right.

As best he could for the next hour and a half, Peter tried to stay quiet. Leaving the hanger to run laps around the basketball court; his attempt at exerting some nervous energy, his attempts were fruitless though as all he could focus on was that feeling in his bones that told him that you, his longtime girlfriend, were in danger. What only served to amplify his anxiety was the fact that if something terrible had indeed happened to you at the hands of the reality jumping mutant; there probably wasn’t much he could do to reverse it.

The conversation he’d shared with you last night rang through his head while he weighed up every possible outcome of your situation, and in conjunction; the situation he could possibly find himself in.

“So say your lovely girlfriend does get sent to an alternate reality… would you follow?” Within a second of your question, Peter had flipped your positions so that your back was against the mattress and the man in question was hovering on top of you with a cheeky grin.

“Sweet cheeks, I’d follow you anywhere.” He told you and you giggled at the stupid pet name before pulling him down to kiss you.

He meant it, he knew he meant it. Peter Maximoff had never been so sure of a fact in his entire existence; he’d follow you anywhere. His issue was that anywhere usually didn’t extend to alternate realities, but to him, if it meant rescuing you, he’d figure out a way to work out the kinks. Peter shook the thoughts from his head, he needed to be rational. You were probably fine, but yet again, he found last night's words echoing in his brain, the promise you’d made rattling around the confines of his head as violently as a screen door during a hurricane.

“Pete…” You whispered, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. “I’m gonna be okay. Raven and Charles will be with me the whole time, we’ll be in and out. I promise.”

When his heart began to beat out of control, he stopped running at lightning speed in favour of leaning against a thick tree adjacent to the basketball court. Aiming to steady his pulse he briefly closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He thought about you; about how you’d play with his fingers to stop him from drumming them, how you’d cause any and all of his intrusive thoughts to be ejected from his mind when your lips would meet his in surprise kisses, or how you’d drape your arms around his shoulders and rest your cheek against his chest at random times. Those were the small interactions that brought him the greatest amount of serenity. Just as his heartbeat returned to its usual overactive pace, the jet you’d left on earlier was flying overhead.

Peter rushed back to the hanger, nervous energy at an all time high when the jet landed before him and Hank. Peter bounced on the heels of his feet as he waited for you to bound into his arms and pepper kisses all over his face. But that didn’t happen.

Peter’s heart dropped into that familiar pit in his stomach when Raven and Charles stepped out of the plane, looking crestfallen and solemn when their eyes met Peter’s wide, fear filled, brown eyes.

Before anyone could say a word, Peter sped into the plane, unfortunately confirming his suspicions; you weren’t there. Only a second later, the boy was back in his original spot in front of Charles and Raven.

“She better not be where I think she is right now or I swear to God, man-“ Peter began to threaten as Hank let out a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Peter,” Raven placed her hand on his shoulder when he looked like he was about to hyperventilate, Charles had yet to speak, no doubt trying to find an appropriate way to tell a young mutant that the only constant in his life, his only pacer, had been lost on a mission due to his negligence.

“Where is she? Tell me where she is, I’ll go get her I can be there in back in like five minutes just-“ Peter immediately rushed to speak, ignoring Hank’s confused gaze and Charles’ pained grimace.

“Slow down, bud,” Hank voiced when Peter neared the point of vibrating where he stood.

“The mutant, Galan, he said he’d bring her back, if, and only if, we complied with his demands,” Charles started to explain, grimacing again when Raven cut him off rather bluntly.

“But we can’t. His demands are insane.” She glared at Charles as she spoke, she believed that he shouldn’t have even brought up the option in front of Peter, there was absolutely no way they could accept the deranged mutant’s demands, Charles knew that, and Raven hadn’t wanted to give Peter false hope.

“So what?” Peter yelled, anger replacing nervousness. He’d warned them it was a bad idea. You’d warned them it was a bad idea. It could’ve been avoided. Had he been there, he could’ve saved you. “So what, she's just gone? My girl is just gone and what? I’m supposed to just be okay with it?” He seethed, his breath heavy while his chest heaved with rage.

When, after a moment, nobody spoke, Peter shook his head, “Come on you guys… you’re not seriously considering leaving her in some wacked out world all by herself, are you?” His voice sounded pleading, like a child, stripped raw and entirely vulnerable in a way that made them all wish they’d been more careful, hell, even Hank felt guilty and he hadn’t even been there. He, too, had been against the whole mission in the first place, actually.

“We’re really sorry, Peter,” was all Charles said before he exited the room, Raven stayed rooted in place though, at a loss for what to say or do next.

Peter swallowed thickly, his throat closing and his heart pumping at a rapid rate as tears welled in his eyes and oxygen seemed to disappear from his general area when the reality of the situation set in. You were gone, he’d get you back; even if it took him the rest of his life he’d get you back, but right in that moment, you were just gone. He hadn’t heard Hank’s and Raven’s “Woah!”s as the silver haired boy stumbled on his feet, his knees buckling before he had a chance to steady himself. Nor could he hear the gut wrenching rasps that left his mouth as he slipped into a panic attack that would surely result in him passing out.

“Peter,” Raven was in front of his face, but it wasn’t right- no, you were the one who talked him down, not Raven, it wasn’t right. “—you need to calm down, breath—“ her voice was distorted, as if he was hearing her from beneath a surface of water.

The older woman looked to Hank in desperation, he only furrowed his brow and gradually lowered Peter to the ground. He watched as the speedster rasped and muttered, he only managed to pick up a few words, his heart pulling with each one.

Hank rubbed a soothing hand up and down Peter’s back, while Raven prompted him to breath, eventually they managed to get through to the boy, though, Hank could tell it was more a matter of him having worn himself out.

“You’re alright,” Hank tried to soothe but Peter only whimpered.

He sniffled and met Hank’s gaze, hollowly and miserably, his lips quivering as her spoke in a desperate whisper, “I have to get her back, man. I just have to.”

*

The kettle screeched out a whistle from the kitchen, letting yourself and Wanda know the water was boiled, “I’ll get it,” you told her, you stood from the porch steps, squeezing Wanda’s shoulder on your way in as she gave you a grateful smile.

It’d been a few months since Wanda had sought you out after WestView broke down, you recalled the words she spoke fondly; “You don’t have to be alone. Remember what I said when we first met? We could help each other.”

Of course, you’d agreed to go on the run with her. And true enough, you’d both been extremely helpful to each other. She was a true friend and if nothing else, she was a bright light in the confused foreign world. As much as you adored Wanda, and as much as she adored you, neither of you were so naive as to think you weren’t still swamped in a pool of loneliness, craving for what you’d both respectively lost.

“Wands, was it peppermint you wanted?” You called from the kitchen, grinning slightly when she responded.

“Ya! With honey!” She yelled softly, “Please!”

Dutifully, you made the two cups of tea before returning to your spot next to Wanda on the steps, holding the hot cup between your hands and breathing in the minty steam. The scenery that surrounded you was gorgeous, nothing short of breathtaking. Rolling hills, huge lakes and flower fields that surrounded the cabin gave it the vibe of something plucked right from a storybook. If it was taking yours and Wanda’s story into consideration, you thought, it’d be one tragically dark storybook, but all the good classics were like that, you supposed.

Despite the eye catching backdrop, your mind was elsewhere today, more so than usual.

Wanda’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, “May I ask you something?”

Taking a sip from your tea you gave her an amused smile from over the rim of your ceramic cup, “Always.”

With that, Wanda turned her body to face you and you mirrored her action, then, she tilted her head curiously, “I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while, but I didn’t want to pry,” she began causing you to snort out a laugh.

“Never stopped you before,” Wanda rolled her eyes, but smiled, continuing to her actual inquiries.

“When we were in WestView, you woke up a few times, but only when the imposter acting as my brother was near you,” you let out a heavy sigh, which stopped her in her tracks. This conversation had been brewing for a while, you could see it in the way Wanda sometimes hesitated before bringing up certain topics.

“In my reality, I have a boyfriend. He’s my everything, really,” you told her, staring blankly out into the fields as you spoke, “We’ve been together since we broke his father out of a high security prison together in ‘73– did I ever tell you that our timelines are different?” You wondered, losing the thread of your thoughts as you recalled the most significant few days of your life that had transpired in 1973, when you and Peter were just eighteen. It was only five years ago for you, but in this reality, the 70s were more than forty years ago.

“You’ve mentioned it,” she reminded you and you nodded, clearing your throat and getting back to the explanation that Wanda was expecting.

“Well, he’s a mutant like me. He’s got super speed, like your Pietro. His birth name is actually Pietro but he hates it, had it changed to Peter when he moved to the states— kids used to pick on him for it,” you explained, laughing lightly, thinking about the way his nose would scrunch up cutely when you’d call him Pietro.

“That man in WestView… he was identical to my Peter and he had the mutation and… his last name is Maximoff so, I don’t know, I guess it made sense that he’d be playing your brother. When we met I thought nobody was ever going to come for me, then I saw him and I was so happy…” Wanda rested a gentle hand on your knee when your face grew mournful.

“I thought he’d come to save me, bring me home, you know? But it wasn’t him at all, just some guy called Ralph Bohner,” you shrugged with a small pout, attempting to diffuse the weight of the confession with a light, humourless chuckle, “Stupid name.”

Wanda fixed you with a genuine smile, “Tell me about him,” she promoted and you sighed, dreamily this time.

“He’s kind, and funny, he makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever known— seriously, I could be having the worst day of my life and all he’d have to do is look at me and everything would feel better,” Wanda’s smile widened, she understood, her Pietro had that effect on her too.

“He’s honest, he’s so good hearted but he can be so full of mischief sometimes, he’s a huge prankster back home,” you paused, biting back a smile for a second, then carried on, “He’s got killer taste in music, before we actually started dating he used to lend me his favourite vinyls and make me mixtapes… he used to write crap on the top of the cassettes with black sharpie, like, “kinda cool songs for a sorta cool girl” or, and this is my personal favourite, “songs that make me think of you”, he drew a little winky face so, naturally, I thought it was going to be super cute,” your own laughter cut you off, Wanda’s mingled with yours and she raised her eyebrows.

“And was it?” She asked, chuckling when you shook your head, your smile the widest she’d ever seen it. She couldn’t help but smile too, the more you told her about him, the more she realised he really was just the alternate version of her brother.

“The only song on the whole thing was ‘Let’s Get It On’ by Marvin Gaye!” Wanda threw her head back in laughter, your cheeks hurt from smiling but your heart felt lighter having spoken about the boy you love.

Once she’d stopped laughing, Wanda took you in before speaking the thing she’d been thinking about since you became friends, “You know, I think Pietro would’ve liked you very much,” she joined you in staring off into the fields, “Peter sounds a lot like him.”

“You’d like him, I think,” Wanda nudged her knee against hers and sipped her tea.

“I hope I get to meet him someday,” she stated, causing your tone to dampen ever so slightly as you agreed.

“I hope so too.”

*

Peter hadn’t slept in weeks, by now, the speedster was running on nothing but twinkies and redbull. He hadn’t gotten a chance to sleep really, he’d left the mansion almost two weeks ago on what he was calling a solo mission. By solo mission he meant; finding the mutant that sent you to another reality and asking him, politely, to just plop him wherever he sent you. He had no return plan, but he knew what the X-Men had planned, well, more specifically Erik. He was going to kill Galan, and if that happened that eliminated every chance Peter had of getting his soulmate back.

Peter made a choice the second he left the mansion, he’d rather be in an alternate reality with you than in this reality without you.

Besides, he was sick of his friends telling him he should “move on”, you’d only been gone six months and everyone was acting like waiting for you was a hopeless waste of time, it was driving him insane.

You were it for him, he wouldn’t move on for as long as he lived and he knew you felt the same, but, regardless of that, he wanted to find you sooner rather than later.

Your side of the bed didn’t smell like you anymore, your favourite blanket (which Peter had shoved in his rucksack that he brought with him) didn’t hold the same warmth as it did when you’d wrap it around his shoulders. To put things simply, missing you was eating him alive.

He was following leads to get to Galan and finally, in a dingy motel in some lesser known area of the south, Peter found him.

“You’re one of the X-Men aren't you? Here to agree to my terms? Took you long enough,” the mutant spoke lowly, his grumbling voice all the more intimidating in the dimly lit room.

Peter stood awkwardly, out of place, while the mutant stared at him expectantly, “Uh, no, actually,” Peter finally managed to choke out after a moment of silence.

Galan scoffed, “Look, like I told your buddies; I’m not bringing the girl back-“

Peter shook his head, cutting Galan off frantically, “I don’t need you to bring her back. I want you to send me to her,” Galan raised a scarred eyebrow at the young man in front of him, he looked like all hell, bags under his eyes so prominent they almost didn’t look real. He had something of a nervous quality about him, Galan thought.

“You’re Quicksilver, am I correct?” Peter simply nodded his head in confirmation and Galan rolled his shoulders, “I gotta admit, it’d be nice to get you out of my way.”

Peter looked at him pleadingly, “So? Will you send me to her?”

Galan nodded his head, there was no downside for him, really. “Don’t see why not. But humour me for a second, kid. What’s so special about this girl?” Galan asked, a smirk on his face that unnerved Peter.

Peter took in a deep breath and looked Galan straight in the eyes, “I love her, she’s sorta my other half. I’m a total loser without her,” Peter tried to sound aloof but his body language and pleading gaze weren’t fooling anyone.

Galan snorted out a laugh, muttering something along the lines of “Ah, young love” but that was the last thing Peter heard before the world around him faded away.

When he came to, all he knew was that he was freezing, which was saying something considering he was nearly always too warm. He jolted into a sitting position, darkness surrounded him and all he could smell was grass and a very faint smell of smoke coming from somewhere in the distance. After a few seconds, Peter’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and all he could gather was that he was somewhere very, very hilly. The noises of wild animals in the distance spurred Peter to get onto his feet and start running.

He ran for maybe one minute until he reached a cozy looking wood cabin. The lights were off but smoke still poured from the chimney.

Too cold and too exhausted to think too much, Peter walked up the porch steps and knocked three times on the door.

“Hey, uh, anyone home?” He called when nobody came to the door after a few minutes. Just as he was contemplating running away a girl he didn’t recognise opened the door. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in shock, Peter wasn’t sure why.

“Come in,” she told him immediately, and again, Peter didn’t question it, the strawberry blonde led him to a sofa and motioned for him to sit down, with a flick of her hand the fire sparked to life and Peter let out a silent breath of relief. Whoever this girl was, she was a mutant like him. “I’ll be- I’ll be right back.”

Wanda practically ran into your room, shaking you awake roughly, a crazed smile on her face like a child on Christmas, “Y/n, wake up!”

You cracked your eyes open with a groan and hid your face against your pillow, “What?” You asked in a whine and Wanda would’ve been endeared by how much of a child you were when you were sleepy, had it not been for the love of your life sitting on your living room sofa.

“Just come on, will you? You’ll sleep better once you see this,” she prompted, you let out a weak groan but threw your duvet off your legs anyway, sluggishly following Wanda into the living room, your fuzzy socks helping you shuffle over the hardwood floors without needing to lift your feet off the ground too much.

“It’s like 3am, Wands, this better be—“ you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp immediately upon seeing him, “Peter?” You asked, this time you had to be sure.

His own eyes widened and before he could even consider giving you a verbal answer, you were completely encompassed by his arms, but that was all the answer you needed.

A choked sob left your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, his back shook and his tears were already soaking through your tee shirt, letting you know he was crying too.

“Y/n,” he muttered against you, pressing feverish kisses all over your face while he took in your appearance, “You’re okay?”

You nodded your head, eyes watery and smile shaky. Yours hands cupped his cheek, your thumbs brushing the tears away from under his tired eyes, “I’m okay.”

Peter’s eyes continued to rack over you, his fatigue catching up to him as your soft thumbs stroked his cheekbones, “When was the last time you slept, Pete?” A sleepy smile formed on his lips at the sound of your voice, he would never be able to articulate how deeply he’d missed you.

“S’been a few weeks,” he answered and your eyes widened.

With a sad smile, you placed a kiss on his cheek before taking both of his hands in your own, “C’mon, you need rest so you can answer all the questions I plan on asking you in the morning.”

Wanda, it seemed, had already slinked back to her own room.

Once you arrived in your bedroom, Peter shimmied out of his jeans before crawling into your warm bed and opening his arms, beckoning you in. You didn’t need any convincing, you happily crawled into bed and let Peter wrap his arms around you as you laid your cheek against his chest.

“I have so many things to say but I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out,” Peter said softly, squeezing you against him as closely as possible, burying his nose in your hair and sighing gently.

As gently as you could, you leaned up and placed a tender kiss against his lips, “You can say everything you need to say when you wake up.”

“I love you,” Peter whispered, chasing your lips with his languidly, “You’re my everything, you know that?” Of course, you wouldn’t know how much weight the statement held just yet, that didn’t matter to Peter, though. He had you back, the other details didn’t seem so important anymore.

[m88n]

[2.12 am]

You’re held close by Jaehyun on his king-sized bed, a scene often taking place during one of your meets. At first, his tendency to be a little touchier than you’d prefer in a friends with benefits setting put you off, but you’ve grown quite used to it. He was the one initiating this relationship, as you both knew each other through a university club, and he hit you up through a mutual friend after seeing how you’ve physically changed in the past few years. Although he keeps his interactions with you pretty shallow, his lingering touches and gazes sometimes would say otherwise. During your first nightly meet with each other, despite him only mostly saying raunchy things to you, as you part, he held an indecipherable gaze towards your eyes, before stealing a kiss from you. That took you off guard, as you would not expect to kiss a friends with benefits outside of the vicinity of the bedroom.

During the next several times you’ve met each other, he made it a point to hold conversations with you before actually getting down to business. You asked him the first time—what was the point of making conversation? He just lightly dismissed it, saying that he’d at least want to get to know you before doing it with you. Again, you thought that was strange, but you went along with it. During one of your pillow talks, you wanted to know if he was clean (perhaps you both could do it raw), so you asked him how many sexual partners he has at that moment. He just smiled, shooting his all-too familiar dimples at you, saying that he’s not sleeping with anyone right now other than you. You decided that he was lying, because you’ve heard from several mutual friends that Jaehyun’s known as a player among other girls, breaking hearts left and right, always trying to find the next one to sleep with. Your friends warned you not to get too caught up with him, but you dismissed their worries easily, knowing that you don’t easily get attached.

At the present moment, both of you find yourselves watching Youtube videos on your phone, Jaehyun holding it above your still unclothed bodies sprawled on top of his bed. You still feel like there are parts of Jaehyun that you can’t seem to make out, but you decide that he is definitely one fun guy to just hang out with.

“I find it cool that we have the same favorite classical piece. Clair de lune. It’s obvious though,” He says nonchalantly, before turning his head to you. “Always on the lookout for Debussy, am I right?”

You chortle at his horrible joke, laughing heartily until you’re gasping for breath. It might be bad, but it really is funny to you. You’re probably just easily amused. Either way Jaehyun’s got you in stitches. He always does. Jaehyun looks at you for a second, before he laughs with you, eyes turning into beautiful crescents as his dimples accentuate his features in the most charming way. God, you get why all these girls would go so far for this guy. He’s literally a vision.

Suddenly your phone lets out a small ping! and both your attentions are redirected to your phone, a row of notifications popping up on the top of the screen.

Jaemin (2.20 am): wyd? ;) Jaemin (2.20 am): thinking abt u. miss u on my bed Jaemin (2.21 am): still coming over tmr night?

“Oop, sorry bout that, hand me my—”

“What--What was that?” Jaehyun asks, gaze slowly shifting towards you.

“Na Jaemin asking me for a bootycall—”

“Yeah, I could see that,” He responds, jaw tensing up. “You’re seeing him?”

You feel alarmed by the sudden change in Jaehyun’s attitude, confusion filling you up yet again.

“Yeah, why?” You ask simply, trying to snatch your phone from Jaehyun’s hand, him pulling away quicker.

Jaehyun holds his gaze upon you, eyebrows knitted together, knuckles turning white.

No.... it couldn’t be. Could it..?

“Jae…. Do you not like me… Seeing Jaemin..?” You ask gently.

You swear you could see him flinch ever so slightly at the sound of Jaemin’s name. He keeps quiet, yet you could feel his breath start to quicken, eyes narrowing at you.

“Jaehyun,” You say.

He looks away, gnawing on his lip.

“Jaehyun.” You say, firmly this time, earning his attention. “What are you thinking? You gotta tell me. Otherwise I won’t get it,”

“...You can do whatever you want.” He answers, looking away.

“What do you want?” You ask him.

“…”

“Okay, I’ll try to make this simpler. What do you feel?” You ask him slowly, as if speaking to a 5-year-old child.

“…Not the best,” He finally responds frankly, “I don’t think I like it.”

“There we go, wasn’t that hard, was it?” You say sarcastically, starting to feel annoyed with the unwelcome situation you’ve been handed. “You gotta be honest with me, Jae, that was the deal, we gotta be super clear about the conditions and boundaries—”

“Do you like him?” He asks suddenly.

You sit there, eyes wide, not expecting at all that he was going to ask such a question. You try to make sense of the situation, blinking your eyes rapidly while your mouth hangs ajar as you try to concoct an answer—any answer—but nothing comes out.

You shake your head to snap yourself out of it, because it really doesn’t even matter if you do, or do not. This shouldn’t be about Jaemin.

“Jae—I don’t—I don’t know, why are you asking me that? It’s not even relevant to whatever’s going on with this right now,” You say, gesturing between you both.

“But it is,” He says, raising his voice, as he looks at you straight in the eyes.

You pause to gather yourself at this turn of events.

“What, do you like me or something?” You finally ask bluntly out of utter exasperation.

With that question, his gaze softens and he lets out an exhale, before trying to calm himself down.

“…Jaehyun, what do you want with me?” You ask as you lean closer to him.

He looks down at his hands blanketed by the white duvet, as he seemingly tries to gather his thoughts before he answers.

“..I—” He starts. “…What do you want with… Jaemin? What… What does he want with you?”

You frown almost instantly, noticing him deflect the question. But you decide to just go with his flow, trying to answer his questions as best as you could.

“I don’t know, Jae, I think he’s cute, and I quite like being around him,” You answer, “He did tell me he’s liked me ever since he saw me in our shared anthropology class during the last year of our bachelors, I mean, that really was ages ago…. I don’t know, man, I’m just hanging with him, see where that goes,”

“… So… You’re going to keep hanging with him while you… Hang with me?”

You look at him disappointedly.

“Jae. It’s your turn to answer. What do you want from me?” You ask firmly. “…Do you like me?”

He keeps quiet.

“Do you want to be with me?”

He looks at you with a gaze too vague to figure.

“..Is it bad that I want you to stop hanging out with Jaemin?” He finally asks.

“What, do you want to be exclusive with me? ..Make it official or something like that?” You ask bluntly out of frustration, your question starting to scare even yourself.

He grimaces at your question, before looking away from you.

“I… I don’t—”

“Then it wouldn’t be fair for me, wouldn’t it?” You ask him with a deadpanned face.

With that, you feel like you’ve had enough. You let out a last sigh, before grabbing your phone and quickly making your way towards your clothes on the hardwood floor, quickly wearing them as you usually would after your hookups with him. Jaehyun follows your movements with widened eyes, frozen in place, mouth hanging ajar.

You move to take your handbag sitting on the bedside table, before Jaehyun grabs your arm, stopping you mid-movement.

“y/n. Do you really feel nothing with me?” He asks you, face desperate.

“Do you?” You ask, furiously eyeing him down due to his entire ambiguity.

“I feel like—I feel like you just get me,” He sputters, “I’ve never had anyone understand me that much, y/n, you don’t need to leave—”

“So you want me here just because I get you? And I’m not even allowed to do whatever I want because of… Whatever this is?” You ask.

“I—I don’t know y/n, just give me time,” He says hastily, still gripping your arm despite your attempts to shake him off, “Just—just stop hanging out with Jaemin for a little, let me figure this out—”

You scoff at his remark. “For what?” You ask, “What’s in it for me?”

He gulps, eyes quivering wildly as he tries to search for an answer.

“For--For me.” He finally says.

You shake your arm off of his grip, before grabbing your purse.

“Jaehyun baby,” You say, “I really don’t have the time to teach a man to be mine.”

[cryoriku]

17, 19, 39

17. ive got 3958394 wips cooking in the oven but the two im trying to get "completed" for sharing soon are a sephzack oneshot and the second part of how come everything hurts if nothing lasts? (fic about my wol)

so the premise of the sephzack oneshot is after sephiroth learns the truth about his indentity, zack ends up finding him and getting him to calm down before the nibelheim incident can happen, and instead they take up sephiroth's suggestion to abandon shinra. these two confiding in eachother abt their shared situation with shinra is a dream of mine, so of course when they finally settle down for the night in some abandoned farmhouse they end up spilling their hearts to eachother and sephiroth, absolutely exhausted, throws down all his walls and ends up planting his head right on zacks shoulder and falling asleep that way. theymakemesosofttt

the other is just. so estinien is my current main comfort character so i wanted to explore how he would provide comfort in his estinien way — specifically, how he reassures arkao about his self-harm. after the first chapter where gils was fronting and i was goofing having estinien interact with him, arkaos fronting again so that gets addressed. tldr: self care via estinien varlineau!!!!!!

19.

I was an avid reader early on and always wanted to be able to create something like what I loved to read. I made stories sooner but didn't start writing seriously until 5th grade. In those days it was a lot of just my fantasies of going on adventures and making friends with sentient animals (I like fables lol) with no logical direction. There's one original story I've held onto from that time (entitled faora) and trying to mold the mess into a cohesive events with a plot has been very challenging — even with newer works, making story and plot intersect is a struggle i often have. So I've mostly been writing smaller-scale or oneshot fanfics for a few years, but lately I got into FFXIV and making a story for my WoL has proven the growth I've had in my ability to have an idea and execute it, and then maintain it. so i hope in the near future this will help me to finally carry out my original stories, or to kill those darlings and start fresh somewhere.

39.

this is gonna sound fake but i dont think i ever feel like giving up writing! it's frustrating when i cant get myself to acheive what i want to acheive with a story, sure, but i write for myself before i write for others. to me writing is a way to actualize my own feelings and desires, and a way to explore. even if i'm no good at it, i just like having my ideas down to have fun with and enjoy later when i look back on it.

sorry abt the late response and thanks SO MUCH again for sending these :]]

[httpsaiki]

Hi. Sry to bother you but I saw requests were open. Could I maybe get a Kusuo x male reader? They are on a date and maybe Kusuo is a little more laid back and soft. His friends catch him with this very sweet boy and are kinda confused. It’s revealed that they are dating and his friends are kinda ???? cause they didn’t really know Saiki was gay? Ik this is bad but I just love my husband and wanna read abt all his dumbass friends trying to wrap their heads around Saiki being a soft and caring boyfriend (and him being with such a soft and caring boyfriend). Pls no pressure and you can ignore this of course. Have an amazing day/night!

Hi! You are most certainly not bothering me, and this is anything but bad, it's so damn adorable!!! I really hope this is good, it was so so much fun to write and I loved that idea so much. I apologize if this was a bit overboard or not really what you wanted! And, hey, nothing wrong with wanting to see Saiki being soft, I mean, don’t we all? You have an amazing day or night yourself! Thank you so so much for this request!

----

Reader is male! This is very cute! No warnings.

WC: 1473

Italics are Kusuo “speaking” aka telepathy.

In which the reader and Kusuo go on a cute date, but the nuisances stumble upon them, forcing Kusuo to introduce his boyfriend.

—————————————————–

“Kusuo! I’m here!” You yelled out into his house. You’d received a telepathic message that said nothing more than Come over from your boyfriend. Interested, you were quick to arrive at his house, feeling free to just let yourself in. You opened the door looking for him, walking into the house. 

“There you are!” You exclaimed, happily running towards him. Kusuo was quick to open his arms, pulling you in for a hug with a small smile. You were rather lucky, being the only person to ever see him this sweet and soft. The two of you hugged for a short time, neither one wanting to let go. It had been merely two days since you’d last gotten a chance to see each other, but it felt like an eternity. Separating from the hug, you looked up at Kusuo, your smile growing. You stared at him for a bit, before opening your mouth to speak.

“So what did you need?” You said, a more serious expression replacing your previous smile. Kusuo froze at your question, clearly not sure how to answer. 

“...Nothing. I just missed you.” He reluctantly replied, trying to hide his face without making it obvious he was even the slightest bit flustered. As your smile came back, you had an idea.

“Kuu! Let’s go somewhere!”

“Where are you thinking?” An ironic question - as he knew exactly where you wanted to take him. All you did was smile, grab his hand, and make your way downstairs. Off to the park, it was! After a quick stop in the kitchen to pack some lunch boxes, you and your boyfriend were out the door. 

Sitting hand in hand, casually eating your lunches and chatting, you and Kusuo were quite happy on your date. It was perfect out, there was a nice light breeze and it was far from too hot out. Kusuo was calm and relaxed, which was a rare occurrence. He usually looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and it probably wasn’t an obscene guess to assume he really did. 

Despite that, you enjoyed being like this. It was so nice to see Kusuo relax, and you knew he appreciated the chance for peace and quiet. You’d made sure he put his ring on before sitting down so that he could truly enjoy it with you. Even if that meant less talking from him, he hated actually speaking - you really didn't mind, he was able to relax. Besides, he loved listening to you talk to him anyway. Kusuo’s eyes were closed as he rested his head on your shoulder. Lunch was long finished and you were telling him about something silly that happened at school the other day. It was so clear how badly he needed this, and you were more than happy to oblige.

Suddenly, that was all ruined as his shoulders tensed up, and his head lifted off your shoulder. You heard it too.

“Hey, pal!” 

Nendou. Great.

“Hey look, it’s Saiki! Oh- who’s that he's with?” Teruhashi? Was she here too? You’d heard all about his so-called friends, but never met them as Kusuo “didn’t want you to suffer from their stupid”. You adjusted your hand that was holding Kusuo’s, carefully moving so that his ring would come off but you wouldn’t have to let go. You could tell having them here without being able to read their thoughts was a stressful experience for him.

Kusuo let out a sigh, now being able to identify who had come up behind him. He counted three, recognizing the thoughts of Nendou, Teruhashi, and Kaidou. This was not preferable. He was in no way prepared for them to meet his boyfriend, he hadn’t even told them he had one. He felt your thumb rubbing circles on his hand in comfort. He may act like he doesn’t like his friends, but you knew he was scared they wouldn’t accept him nonetheless. Despite being able to read their thoughts, it was still anxiety-inducing for him to actually have to tell them.

Teruhashi was first to take note of how relaxed he looked (despite his current internal struggle), and your hands being interlocked together. She was highly observant, after all. You were sitting close enough to him that your arms were touching. Was her conclusion really correct?

“Saiki? Is that… Are you...?” She trailed off, not sure if she should continue or not.

Kaidou picked up where she left off, “You have a boyfriend?”. He said as he pointed towards your hands, still tightly locked together. 

Kusuo looked over to you, where you simply nodded to him, silently letting him know it’s okay to continue. He sighed, was he really ready? Oh well. No avoiding it now. 

“Yes. I’m gay. And… Y/N. His name is Y/N.” He stood up to face them as he spoke, pulling you with him. You extended your other hand out to shake each of his friends' hands, politely introducing yourself to each of them.

All of his friends were focused on how close the two of you seemed. They saw already how happy you made Kusuo, and they were all prepared to support him no matter what. They had no idea he was gay but were delighted that he now trusted them enough to tell them. What they couldn’t believe was how sweet he was being? They saw before, he was all cuddled up to you? Never had any of them imagined Kusuo could be so soft towards someone. He seemed really attached to you, and they’d never seen him more relaxed nor this content. It was clear Kusuo wanted to be near you - something none of them had ever seen from him before. It was something he would likely never admit out loud, but it was made clear by his actions and his body language around you. It was a strange sight to see but in the best possible way. 

Even more, you seemed way too sweet to be with someone like Kusuo. You had a large smile painted on your face the entire time, and it seemed like on the surface you were polar opposites. They just didn’t expect you to be Kusuo’s type. They were really learning a lot about him today, huh? Somehow they unanimously agreed they’d never expected someone like you to be with him, but needless to say, if Kusuo of all people liked you, you had to be pretty great.

“Well,” Teruhashi started, “we’d better leave you to enjoy your date. Have fun!” She spoke, walking away with the two others as not to impose. As they left, the group discussed what they’d just discovered. They were shocked. But overall they were excited for you both, although still, a tad bit surprised both at Kusuo having a boyfriend and his entirely different demeanor. 

“I don’t believe it,” Kaidou spoke in a tone of pure confusion, “Saiki can show emotion?” The rest of the group laughed a bit, clearly, he was kidding, although they did agree with him. It seemed Nendou hadn’t understood the situation, he was even more confused than Teruhashi and Kaidou. None of them could quite comprehend what they’d seen but were rather happy about having learned of a new side to their pink-haired friend.

After Kusuo’s friends left, it was decided that it was time to go home. That had been pretty emotionally draining for Kusuo, and it was better to give him a chance to rest. Once the picnic was packed, you walked back to his house, still hand in hand (Kusuo not-so-secretly preferred it that way).

Once back at his house, you made your way up to his room. Kusuo looked up at you, tears in his eyes. You pulled him in so that his head was resting on your chest and you wrapped your arms around him. Worried, you pet his hair and let him let his feelings out.

“They… accepted me. Y/N, they accepted us.” You’d never seen Kusuo smile so wide.

“Of course they did Kusuo, they do genuinely like you.”

Kusuo let out a small sniffle. You could tell just how much their acceptance meant to him. He started moving towards his bed, that whole ordeal was tiring. He needed a nap. You started gathering your things, getting ready to leave so that he could sleep in peace when you felt your hand being grabbed.

“Stay. Please?”

“Of course.”

You laid down beside him, allowing him to roll over and be close to you. As Kusuo dozed off, you continued to pet his hair, planting a small kiss on the top of his head every now and then. You both stayed like that the rest of the night, you eventually dozing off as well. It had been one of the best dates you’d ever had.

[yakocchi]

Becoming a Family With Him, Part 3 // Shuichi, Hikaru, Rhion, Luke, Eisuke

so this came out, as further celebration for the anni. VERY GOOD, much more appreciated than the prior story set lol that one was kind of boring but i get it

they made the kids for all the... kid-less ones, and the eisuke one that used to be VIP-exclusive is now here for everyone to buy (rip those ppl who gacha for it)

my rambling behind the cut (spoilers!!)

shuichi // as ud expect, shuichi has a literal hime ass looking girl (kikyo) for a daughter. she’s only 6, but is pretty calm and ladylike. She even calls her parents with –sama so... ok luckily shuichi does not strip down all the way in the presence of her daughter and only takes off his suit coat. thanks dad

anyway since shuichi has a break coming up, he wants to have a family trip how nice. but then the dang girl wants to go over to see eisuke WHAT when soryu exists and lives a block away? unrelatable, im closing the app anyway eisuke is her first love, which wtf he’s like 20 yrs older than u. even worse, mc says she’s been in love since she was like 3.

shuichi is reconsidering the benefits of democracy in his mind but eventually relents. but then they’re still following the fucc-days rule they set years ago. well, as he says in the story, RULES ARE RULES

blah blah i don’t want to go over everything bc then it’ll be boring reading the story when it comes out in engl right? also im tired bc it’s 1 am and i just want to play toontown in bed but nothing really bad happens. they are a v cute family bc shuichi is a pleasant and mature dad. kikyo and mc even do a little surprise for him at the end and it is very sweet. i feel like out of all the families, this is the most ideal

mad hatter // so they have twin sons named Rui and Kai. Rui is the childlike one that resembles Rhion in personality, Kai is the more mature one that resembles Al. man i forget that boy’s name but u get me i know they only can use stock bgs but it’s killing me that these dang kids get to sleep in what looks like separate king sized beds.

even though rhion is now a father of two, he still acts like... 10. i mean he still horni but it makes me feel weird

later it’s revealed that Ota teaches them both as an art tutor bc they both showed an interest in art. this is cute bc ota is bad with kids in this universe LOL

the ending on this one was weird cuz the kids didn’t show up in the entirety of the last ep bc it was about WORK. so uh... interesting

hikaru // so their son is named akari. haha get it because it means light. like how hikaru also means light. can mc name her kids unrelated to their father or is that against the Geneva convention

this kid actually acts like an actual little boy. like what hikaru would’ve probably turned into if not for the whole sad backstory. the story starts with akari just bringing a dog randomly home one day. he actually saved the dog (it is very cute bc he did not want the dog to cry), and then after a talk they decide to keep the dog as long as akari knows the responsibility of taking care of an animal.

so next day, the bidders come over to their house and everyone’s like woaw a dog. lol they come into their house as guests and eisuke and mamo still demand for beverages, they all suck

akari names the dog... “Light” (Raito) and i want out of this nightmare. Naturally bc Light is an abandoned dog it’s still kind of bad with interacting with things. But then Light suddenly be giving the ( ╹ਊ╹) to soryu bc remember, animals love him. everyone clowns on soryu for being an unintentional dog whisperer and then akari is like “soryu san pls make me ur apprentice” and he gives some advice like approaching it slowly, and talking to it from the front instead of back.

blah blah there’s a situation where Light goes YEET after a Doberman gets all angry and then hides bc then another dog is scaring it. hikaru swoops in to the save the day as the Real Dog Whisperer. ok it’s cute when hikaru actually gets to look cool  for once LOL

luke // luke is cute on the bc “pre-story” scene he’s actually pretty open to the idea of having kids; he actually goes “well imo we should think abt it pretty soon, but i wanted to hear ur opinion on it” but then he gets horni. and then he’s like “our kids are going to have your collarbones. awesomeee im looking forward to that” ....ok

ok cut to the actual story and they’re in Japan. Luke’s kid looks... strange versus the others. why are his eyes so big? omg voltage his eyes arent going to be saucers just cuz he half white also the kid’s name is Yuri (Or Urey). They couldn’t think of any other Brit-styled names? Like Harry? Henry? William? Wilfred? hey stan be my princess btw he’s pretty cute, though he gives serious “timid kid that gets bullied in the children’s movie” vibes. He calls Luke “daddy” and mc “mammy/mommy”.

so luke talks about his relationship w/ soryu and eisuke and then yuri is like “i want friends like that” wow cute but also find less ethically-complicated friends

so luke lets yuri meet a young patient of his (haru) so they can be friends. they get along so it’s good. haru gets in critical condition later so luke zooms outta there to do the operation.

LOL but at the end yuri is like, “i want to make more friends. (...) can i go to the bidder’s room from now on?” this boy works fast

And then he’s like “Eisuke-san... please be my friend.” HIS POWER. even eisuke was like :O so then eisuke orders a whole bunch of food and books up to the penthouse. But then yuri’s like “...i like eisuke’s eyes” and everyone’s like oh man that’s gonna be his fetish

Baba: why have u started to have an interest in eyes Yuri: I read it from one of daddy’s medical books Hikaru: wtf u can read that at 4??? (...) Soryu: wat Yuri: um... i want soryu to be my friend too Yuri: bc soryu’s eyes are also powerfully cool...

eisuke // ok this gets an extended ramble bc the more annoying the story the longer i must complain

so you might be thinking, “oh so this is gonna be a flashback in some in media res styled story with your 2 kids, u know in the style of the others” and well, no you just go straight to white screen into the flashback, back when eito was smaller and thus a little more cute. well it’s not really false advertising bc they did say “reminisce” in the description. but i wanted to see eito be a good big brother for a moment! or... less good? man i wanted to see kaito go waaaah like a baby idk i wanted to see him exist

so back to the story they cut to small eito. even as a smaller punk he does fight with his dad a little, just w/ a more narrow vocabulary to work with. tho at this point he’s still pretty sweet so clearly eisuke clowning him day and night was a negative effect on his development. (doesn’t treat his child like a child) (child grows up to a punk that doesn’t respect him) (surprised pikachu) being the son of a billionaire means that this child has to go study at a very young age and listen to MOZART. no child of eisuke ichinomiya will be listening to degenerate bops like lee taemin’s criminal next day they all go to the very fancy school that eito will be attending. eisuke does a speech, but then eito is all like “why is papa over there all the time” in reference to how all the other parents in attendance are having fun with their children, but eisuke is busy talking to other people for business and connections etc. etc. mc kind of has a hard time trying to explain it to eito bc... it’s honestly poor parenting... eiji shows up after arriving late, and he’s like “gramps is gonna be with ya today! instead of papa” which is cute but then she’s like psst thanks for coming and im like oh... so grandpa just didn’t randomly come to the open house for fun he’s just gonna be surrogate dad while real dad is busy... aw... and then at the end eito’s like FUC THIS KINDERGARTEN. eisuke is like “(smh) don’t yell in public. (despite everything) you are still the eldest son of the Ichinomiya family”

and so afterwards it’s clear that eito does not want anything to do with this school. he just sits in the classroom until mc is there to pick him up instead of playing in the courtyard or w/e, wanting nothing to do with the other kids.

so later there’s a hiking trip for the students and both of their parents, and mc asks eisuke if he’ll be available for it. eisuke is like, “i have a business trip that day, so I’ll have to adjust my schedule” and he’s been very busy in the opening of a new business or w/e. mc tells him to not do so much for something like that and that it’s ok if she goes alone with eito on the trip.

it’s the day of the trip, and mc goes alone with eito. she notes that a lot of dads did indeed come along for the trip. she apologizes to eito and says that she did talk to eisuke about the trip before, but he’s simply busy for this day. and im like... but girl, you were the one who told him not to change his schedule for the trip. yes a trip may seem less important than business ventures, but don’t make it sound like you weren’t the one who stopped him. lol. idk why im pressed abt this single line of dialogue bc later she does realize she fucced up there well eito is just like w/e about it and has pretty much accepted that sort of thing

anyway eito goes missing later and one of the kids said that he told eito that his dad (eisuke) didn’t come bc his dad thinks that his work is more important than his son. so eito got mad and ran off somewhere

and then mc finally gets the lightbulb moment that eito... wants to see his dad!! he ran off to go try to see him somehow??? !! wow so sweet

it’s raining like a mf but then in her search for eito eisuke randomly pops out of nowhere. He’s like “ho i did not remember saying that i wasn’t coming” and she’s like “im sorrryyy” and both me and him are like “just find the dang kid”

ok yea they find eito, he starts being a good student, and u start to see where he starts being antagonistic towards his dad LOL etc. etc. lol this story annoyed me so i don’t feel like doing the rest of the play by play orz

anyway thanks for reading my garbage LOL

[thetriggeredhappy]

yo whats good @engiespyweek this is a day late but like dont worry abt it

day 2: hurt / comfort

(warnings for injury, specifically from burns. takes place around Robots Time)

-

Back before the robots, they were expected to work regular hours. Normal days. Practically a nine-to-five, plus a couple of hours most days, but never too long after sundown—and unless they had a mission off-base, they’d get weekends off. It was the most organized war any of them had ever been a part of, to be honest. And it was taxing, sure, the pain and bloodshed, but at least according to Scout it still beat working in food service.

And it wasn’t even all that scary half the time—before the robots, the team was invincible in most senses of the word. It would take some extremely particular situations to kill them, situations they were rarely anywhere near. A doctor on staff, bars in town and a full liquor cabinet on base, a pay grade that few of them even dreamed of, it was a good place to be in their lives. They considered themselves lucky, most days.

But that was before the robots.

The sun was setting over wherever the hell they were. They were going on their second day here, which was usually about how long they spent in one place before they had to move again, following some fickle change of the wind to intercept the next few waves of automatons.

They were exhausted. They didn’t have breaks, truth be told, and only sometimes got to sleep—mostly on the drive to their next destination, sometimes woken up during the night by the distant metallic clanging that functioned as the trumpets of war. Modern era, and all.

Medic was truly running on his last legs. He half operated his infirmary out of the back of one of the trucks they used to transport their equipment, not seeing reason to bother unpacking most days. Soldier was in a tizzy himself, constantly checking and rechecking their supplies, inventory being the only job left out of the multitude he’d had on base before and therefore being one he did near-constantly, and his consensus seemed to be that they were running low on... well, everything. Raiding abandoned warehouses for ammunition and guns just wasn’t cutting it anymore. They’d started to send some of the mercs out hunting for scrap metal when they had the time, and the Engineer was left to work practically around the clock trying to feed it to dispensers and restock to have at least enough to be prepared for battle, and Heavy tended to take over when he absolutely needed to sleep.

But then there were the mercenaries who didn’t have much to do but sit and stew. Sniper mostly took to perching alone somewhere he could watch for the distant dust clouds kicked up by the tanks. Scout ran laps around the perimeter of wherever they were posted up, and on a couple of occasions the two of them were the only warning the team got before the robots showed up. Pyro fretted, for the most part, would sweep by the busy members of the team with something to eat and a supportive pat on the arm. But even then, it was obvious the rest were going stir-crazy. Wanted to help, to take some of the weight back, to help share the load if they could.

This was about the only way Spy could help.

Engineer was having trouble keeping his eyes open, but the fatigue fought against his need to eat the tin full of... something. Meat, some kind of sauce. Spy had cooked it, since they apparently had a stove squirreled away somewhere in this particular warehouse, rations, and the team needed something ‘real’ to eat by his measure. The Engineer managed to keep awake, keep shoveling food into his mouth. Distantly, he understood that it tasted very good, and it overcame the nausea he’d been increasingly plagued with ever since all of this started.

The food was one comfort. The warm weight of Spy leaned against his back was another, the man leaned against him as he ate. Outside there was a particularly vibrant sunset happening, that was a third one, the way the light poured through the window briefly driving away a sort of bone-deep paranoia about darkness. About fear. Apparently that was one reason his father always tried to work with the big garage door of the shop open—being in the sun from time to time was important for all types of health. Or, as Spy put it, he needed to get out of his terrible little machinery lair from time to time or else one day the team would find he’d begun transforming into some sort of mole man.

It made him laugh. He missed laughing, he realized.

Once he had some food in his system, some calm, some time to sit in a position other than bent over a drafting table—and, hell, maybe the sun helped too—he started feeling remarkably more like a human being, started relaxing in increments. Started noticing little things. Dust mites lingering in the last light up above their heads. Distant talking, the distinctive laugh of Demo, Soldier barking something in reply. The sound of Spy taking a pull from his cigarette, quiet enough that he’d only really hear it this close. Quiet motion, like fiddling almost, which struck him as odd. Spy wasn’t much for fiddling and fidgeting. Broad, sweeping, dramatic gestures, those he did every time he got a good excuse—but not fidgeting. It was enough to draw his head up from where it was hanging, casting eyes back over his shoulder.

Spy wasn’t looking at him, apparently focused. “What’re you up to, there?” he asked, suddenly made aware of how rough his throat was. Probably from the near-constant full-volume shouting followed by stretches of silence he got up to these days.

“Simple first aid,” Spy said entirely too casually. So casually, in fact, that it took the Engineer a few seconds to realize what he’d even said.

“What?” he asked, turning more fully to look at Spy, at which point he blanched.

Spy had shed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up neatly a short way past his elbows and taken off his gloves and watch, and appeared to be almost done cleaning up and bandaging his left arm, having not started yet on the right one. All up and down his visible skin, and in particular across his palms and wrist, there were a series of mild to severe burns, speckles of dark red and black patching up his forearms, and the Engineer could immediately identify them as being electrical burns, not heat ones.

“How the hell did that happen?” he asked, deeply startled.

A huff of a laugh from Spy. “Mon ami, I go onto the battlefield and am expected to attack mechanical men with a metal blade,” he said, a note of amusement in his voice. “Electrocution is par for the course, I’m afraid.”

“You really oughta... find some way around that,” the Engineer said carefully. “Rubber hilt, or...”

“Most often I can only even tell I’ve caused enough damage to take down any given robot when the shock happens,” Spy shrugged. “It is not terribly painful, especially compared to gunfire. They simply begin to stack up after a while.”

A careful nod from the Engineer, even if it didn’t quite sit right with him. “Want me to help treat those?” he asked, nodding at where Spy was clearly having a bit of difficulty with bandaging his wrist one-handed.

“Our medical supplies are being too regularly depleted even besides superfluous healing of minor injuries, and as much as I would appreciate a moment sat beside one of your dispensers, I’m afraid it would not be very much in the spirit of teamwork to accept your offer, Laborer. If the remainder of our dreary little group is not allowed to accost the dispenser unnecessarily, neither am I, oui?” Spy asked, tone light.

That was one thing he’d started to learn about Spy, especially as of late. Lying and stealing were things he was well acquainted with, but never for something he considered important. To get on other people’s nerves, to get information maybe, but not something important on a whim. Getting on everyone’s nerves was a different beast than intentionally sabotaging them.

“Well,” the Engineer said, still not quite feeling right about it all. “If not that, I can at least lend a hand with wrapping those up. I know a thing or two about getting shocked. Ain’t a fun predicament to be in.”

Only a moment’s hesitation before Spy shrugged, turning to face him, and the Engineer picked up the salve and bandaging and set to work.

This was more his element. Practical problems. Practical solutions. None of the overarching dread, the waiting for the next disaster, the not quite knowing what to do with himself in the miliseconds before the next chore, the next job, the next drive. Just wrapping a wound. Just fixing a problem.

Distantly, there was the sound of something clattering, Demo cheering. The sun was now out of view, and he heard the sound of lights buzzing to life across the area. The light was getting low, and cold was starting to settle into place, more than welcome after yet another sweltering desert day. The smell of hot metal and sweat faded with each breeze that passed through, leaving only the smell of chilly night air, fresh and welcome. By the time it got dim enough to start making him squint to see properly, and he started to wonder whether he should just push through or get a light from somewhere, he realized he was done.

But instead of a twitchiness, an itch to find something else, the urge to keep moving and to find the next thing he needed to work on, he just felt satisfied. Clean bandages, neat wrappings. A vast improvement over before. And when he looked up to see how Spy felt about it all, the man was smiling, just a little, just enough to see even in how dim the room was.

“...What’s the smirk about?” he asked, feeling a bit embarrassed, as if he was missing something.

“Nothing,” Spy said easily, “I suppose I’m just glad you seem to be feeling better.”

A pause, during which the Engineer realized Spy was right. The tension was gone, the ache in his head was fading into a simple weight, and the nausea had settled into nothingness, leaving him relaxed, steady. He blinked.

“Apologies if I’ve overstepped my boundaries,” Spy said after a few moments of that stunned silence, searching his face. “It’s just that for the last several weeks you’ve been stomping around with the third most sour expression I’ve ever seen on you, and it seemed as though nobody else was going to bother stepping in any time soon. I thought that perhaps food and fresh air and polite company may remedy things somewhat, and you seemed determined to only interact with us when you deem it productive.”

“You burned yourself just to get me to sit in one place for a while?” he asked, taken aback.

“Oh, no, non, these burns are truly fairly standard by now,” Spy waved off easily, carefully pulling back on his gloves and watch over the bandages, “I simply prefer to tend to them on my own, the majority of the time. Non, simply a convenient excuse to need your help.”

A pause. “Of all the ridiculous things,” he marveled, blinking at Spy.

In the darkness, he could only barely make out the way Spy’s mouth ticked up into a smirk, watching as he rolled his sleeves back down neatly and reached for his suit jacket. “Well, believe it or not, Laborer, I have been known to stoop to such lows as doing what you call ‘ridiculous things’,” he said, doing his jacket up in an easy motion in the same moment that he rose to his feet, “when I find them to be the only way I can possibly break through to ridiculous men.”

He only had time to sputter over the comment for a second before a gloved hand found his chin, tilting his head up just enough for Spy to lay a kiss soundly to either cheek, and only had time to sputter over that for a second before Spy was snickering and cloaking, a puff of smoke in his wake as he disappeared into the increasing night.

His face felt hot, and he felt that restless energy again, but for an entirely different reason than before, because he wasn’t positive, but he was fairly sure cheek kissing was the sort of thing you greeted someone with when you only meant it in a friendly sort of way, and his brain was far too scrambled to remember it properly just then.

Well. Now he had something to think about besides the robots, at least. Damn shame it couldn’t be a nice, neat, practical problem, but despite his best efforts, he really couldn’t find it in him to mind.

Oh, damn it all.

[closetedotaku01]

thank u for taking my request!!! it is: so where i work (a front desk job) guys come in who are rlly flirty n shit, usually its harmless, like last week some guy just walked by & gave me a note w his number & i havent stopped thinking abt how akaashi would react to that happening to his gf o_o but sometimes it gets...rlly creepy...i jus wanna read abt akaashi w a gf who gets hit on a lot & how he’d react/comfort her 😔 cuz i wish i had him to make me feel better when men are creepy to me 😔

I’m just happy you trust me to write your request, Em. I’m more than happy to take it on <3. I hope it lives up to what you expect. And I’m very sorry you have to deal with what you’re dealing with it’s... disgusting. But I admire your strength for powering through it every day. And Akaashi would too. He’d be so mad at the situation, but so proud of you.

~~~~~~

Fem!Reader x Akaashi

-When it’s harmless flirting, Akaashi usually brushes it off.

-He’s not fond of the situation, but he understands that beautiful girls often get flirted with, and that you can’t really help being so gorgeous, and having such a beautiful smile. Even when the smile is feigned solely for the purpose of doing your job.

-But he trusts you completely. Akaashi wouldn’t even be in a relationship with someone he didn’t fully trust, so it’s never too much of an issue.

-At most he’ll feign a little jealousy so he can tease you and you can tease him back. He loves the cute little batner when you try to reassure him.

-You came home one night, and while you were taking off your shoes Akaashi came up behind you and gave you a hug. He had really needed you that day. Needed to be near you more than anything. And as he whispered a greeting in your ear, his hands slipped into the pockets of your hoodie as he held you. They went in with the intention of holding your hands which were tucked in the pockets to shield them from the cold, but instead he found a note. With some guy’s phone number. He smiled deviously, before having his face fall back to its usual expression.

-He started walking away and reading the guy’s name out slowly, “Really?”

-You laugh, “Oh. That was just some guy at work, Keiji. He was really sweet.”

-“Sweet?”

-“Yeah, he just slid it over on the desk when he was checking out,” you say, following him as he goes to sit on the couch, still examining the paper like it’s an important document that needs to be reread.

-When you’re in front of him he takes your wrist, and tugs gently, pulling you onto the sofa next to him. “Sweeter than me?” Akaashi teases, kissing your hand gently before lifting it over and around his head so your arm is slung around his neck. You lean against his body looking at the creased piece of paper, an uneven heart next to the nine digits written on it.

-You purse your lips to the side, eyes going to the corner of the ceiling, “Well…”

-His arm is suddenly thrown around your waist, and pulls you close to his chest so you’re almost lying on top of him, “Come on, kitten, you can’t just say that!” His voice is slightly whiny before he leans in and kisses the crown of your head, hand cupping your cheek gently and then slipping below your chin and guiding your face to look up at his.

-“Okay fine, Keiji. You win. You’re sweeter,” you huff, annoyed at the effect he has on you. The way his eyes are so peaceful and full of love just for you that you can never resist him.

-He kisses your nose lightly. “Good,” his voice is deep and intense. You lift your head and kiss his lips, before tucking your face into his neck.

-Akaashi loves knowing that he’s the one who gets your kisses and your eyerolls. Your soft touches and your playful hits. Your love and your teasing. You are his, and he will never understand how he got so lucky.

-However when things go too far… his reaction changes.

~~~~

You come home late. Later than normal. Later than the nights when your shitty boss makes you take on extra shifts. Later than ever before. No texts. No calls. No warning. And the second Akaashi hears the keys, he’s at the door. He’s been pacing the length of the apartment the whole night, waiting for you to get home. Needing you to come home and be with him so he could be certain you were okay.

He just wants to pull you in close and hold you, hold on tight to you, and fall asleep easily.

But when he sees you, he hesitates. Your hair is a mess, your makeup completely gone, your eyes rimmed red, your body closed off to him, your lips swollen.

“Kitten?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly and cautiously like approaching a wounded animal, “Is everything okay?”

You shake your head. You can feel all of it still. The disgust and grime all over you. There’s nothing clean. Nothing safe.

Akaashi knows you too well, “Want me to run a bath for you?” You nod and he gets straight to it, setting up candles and a bath bomb quickly and warming the water to your perfect comfort level. He lets you be alone while you bathe, letting the warm water melt away the day. Melt away the touch of that man’s hand on yours when he took the key to his room. Letting the steam and scented candles fog your mind, separating you from your thoughts, hazing the memory of his sleazy grin and crude remarks. You let your eyes flutter closed, and let it all disappear.

It doesn’t.

You get out of the tub, and squeeze your hair out, just enough so it’s not dripping. Akaashi sitting on the sofa in the living room. His head is leaned back over the back rest, eyes closed in thought. He’s playing with his fingers the way he always does, bending them back slightly and rubbing them up and down before moving to the next one.

You know it’s killing him. He needs to fix it. Wishes he could know what’s wrong and solve it the way he always does, clear the problem and move on. But you’re not ready to talk about it. And there’s no way to really fix it anyway. You spent hours of your shift, and beyond your shift talking to HR. It was the whole reason you were out so late. And they’d only reminded you of precautions you were meant to take. Because there was nothing they could do. Nothing anyone could do. Especially not to undo the damage that had already been done.

You walk around the sofa and he sits up straight, eyes flashing up to you. You know he needs it, and the world always feels a bit safer with Akaashi, so you take one of his hands in yours. You let your eyes meet his and you can see him analyzing you.

It used to bother you. Used to get on your nerves that he didn’t just talk to you. But in moments like this, in the moments when the words seemed impossible, you were grateful he knew you this well. He scoots over slightly, giving you an easy way in, and you take it. You curl up next to him. Your head rests on his shoulder, your hand cupped gently in his as he plays with your fingers now. He sees the way you relax at his gentle touch, and it brings him some peace knowing he’s at least being helpful.

The increasingly late hour makes everything feel oddly calm. Like the events that happened…. didn’t. Like your mind falsified the event, like in a few hours you’d be able to chalk it all up to a dream or being wasted. Of course, every time you think about it, it hits you, all of what he said, what he did, and the terrible realization of what he must have been thinking.

You speak with calculated words, like the story isn’t yours, “It was bad today, Keiji.”

There was no prompting, but Akaashi acts like your words didn’t just come out of nowhere, “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

He nods, lightly bobbing his head, “That’s okay. We can just stay like this. Or I can put on music, or a movie to distract you. But if you want to talk… I want to hear it.”

“Okay,” you say, finally turning your head to face him. He puts on a slight faked smile for you. You know he’s waiting. And you know it’s better to talk about it, to vent, then to let it keep consuming you. Get it out of your head, and then it’ll stop taking up every corner of your mind.

“There was … a really creepy guy at my work today. He …,” with being so mentally distant from the situation, and having already told the woman at work your situation, you thought it’d be easy to say. There was something about telling Akaashi that makes the whole thing real. It makes you realize how sickening it was. Forces you to take in the fact that that man had made a decision. A conscious decision proving that, to him, you and your comfort and boundaries, were not worth respecting. That you were something he believed he had a right to have access to. And the thought makes your mind open, finally accepting what happened, and you can’t go on. Your voice is caught under the lump in your throat, you can feel your eyes welling up.

Your lips press into a line, an attempt to hold in the whimpers threatening to fall out.

Akaashi’s eyes are patient and concerned, but once he realizes there won’t be more he doesn’t know what to do. You take the first motion, needing him closer as you cry into him, and Akaashi scoops you up into him, pulling you as close as the world will allow two people to be. “I’m so sorry.” He lets his large hands care for you, one rubbing up and down your back, pressing your slightly farther into him, the other scratching the back of your head gently.

You nod as you let the tears fall, gripping tight onto his shirt, letting yourself take him in. The smooth, gentle, welcomed feel of his skin as his body surrounds you. The clean, calming smell of him. The faint memory of cologne stuck to his shirt. His body wash, cologne, and detergent, filling your mind with pleasant memories. The warmth radiating off his body into yours. He feels warmer than the bath. You can feel the steadying control he has over his body.

“I’ve got you, Kitten. I’m right here,” he pushes you back only slightly so he can take your hands and loosens your grip on his shirt, instead letting his fingers intertwine with yours, “I’m not going anywhere.” He releases your hands, and his to your back, pressing you into him gently.

You bring your hands up, looping them around his neck and playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. You let yourself fall apart, let yourself tumble down and crack and weep, let fractured sentences slip out between sobs, unconcerned that you always leave them unfinished, because you know, no matter how far you break, Akaashi is there holding you together.

He never wavers. His breathing, his heartbeat, the calming strokes of his hands, all of it is steady. And he stays like this until your tears stop flowing, and your hiccups and sobs cease.

“Do you want to tell me the rest or do you want a distraction?”

“Distraction,” you barely manage to get out.

“A movie? A song? Do you want to hear about my day? Or have me tell you a story? Or---?”

“Just wanna hear your voice, Keiji.”

His heart doesn’t know what to do. You hear the way it thrums in his chest. Caught between melting apart at the sweet way you love him, at the knowledge that he can ease you, and breaking apart at how broken you sound.

“Alright, kitten. Let’s see… once upon a time, in a far off kingdom, there was….”

Akaashi continues to tell this little story. It’s mostly nonsense, but you love how his mind works. How he can spin beautiful stories for you whenever you need them.

When you hear him lose his thought, you chime in with a quick detail, your voice soft and raspy. It’s nothing like the stories he writes. These stories are far more special. He usually tells them to you when you’re having trouble sleeping, and you love the calm way he speaks, and the slight voices he does. You’re especially fond of the gentle way he pauses, waiting for you to name every character, or to say which creature the protagonists run into on their quest.

Tonight’s story was about a beautiful princess who, as always, shared your name or some variation of it. The story isn’t one you pay too much attention to, instead focusing on his heartbeat and the way his voice sounds deeper and garbled as it reverberates through his chest. Focusing on the way his body is wrapped around yours, and how safe it feels.

And after a little while, after a few twists and turns in the story, Akaashi manages to lull you to a peaceful sleep in his arms.

[thetickleenergizer]

Ok so. I know I haven’t posted in years. But today I was looking at my old posts and I got motivation. Also this is a Toradora fanfic between the main characters Taiga(Lee) and Ruuji(Ler). I know that y’all prob didn’t watch it but I saw little to no fanfics abt them so here ya go. (Also I noticed that my last IwaOi fic was called king of my life. It was called that because I thought Oikawa’s was “king of the court” and not Kageyama. So... sorry. Anyways enjoy!)

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Pork Cutlets

“Hey, Ruuji.” Taiga said as she pulled on his shirt sleeve. They were at the supermarket and Ruuji was deciding wether or not to buy the expensive beef or the cheap beef.

“Yes?” Ruuji responded. His train of thought now being broken.

“Can you make the pork cutlets again?” The short girl asked as she pointed at the pork section. “It’s soooo good.” She whined.

Ruuji smiled at the compliment.

“Is it really?”

“Yes. So, so, so good.” Taiga said in response.

“You know we had that yesterday right?”

Taiga tried to recall but ended up not caring.

“So? What does it matter?”

“I don’t want the same thing two times in a row.” Ruuji said turning his attention away from Taiga and back to the beef.

“I think we should get beef instead,” Ruuji exclaimed. “Haven’t had it in a while.”

“NO!” Taiga yelled at him. Ruuji jumped. “PORK, PORK, PORK, PORK!” Taiga chanted as Ruuji looked around to see if anyone was watching. He caught a glimpse of the shop keeper and immediately took notice.

“Ok, ok, I hear you.” Ruuji whispered sharply, trying to calm Taiga down. It’s been a long day for Ruuji and the last thing he wants is to get kicked out of a super market. Taiga jumped in the air like a starfish and hugged him. Ruuji couldn’t help but give a smile as he patted her head.

“Taiga! Dinners ready!”

It’s already been a few hours since they were shopping. Ruuji laughed as he heard his girlfriend rush into the room. He placed the nights meal on the table. Rice, vegetables, and of course the pork.

Taiga smiled and gratefully shoved the food in her mouth. Ruuji rested his face on his palm and smiled at the sight.

Taiga furrowed her eyebrows.

“What’re you staring at?” Taiga said, her mouth full of food.

“Nothing.” Ruuji said as he too dug in to his meal.

A few minutes later, which felt like seconds to Ruuji, Taiga was finished eating. She groanded.

Ruuji was still eating. He always thought that it was better to savor your food rather than to eat quickly .

“My stomach hurts.” Taiga whined.

“You shouldn’t have eaten so fast.” Ruuji said as he ate a peice of pork.

She grunted.

“I’m gonna go to bed.”

Ruuji sighed knowing that she would probably want company.

He got up as well and followed Taiga to their bedroom. They both climbed in bed and went under the blanket. Ruuji slid his hand under Taiga’s shirt and rubbed the area under to help ease Taiga’s pain.

Immediately,

Taiga squealed. Ruuji instinctively recoiled and hit his head on the wall. He flinched and rubbed the back of his head in pain.

“What are you doing Ruuji!” Taiga scolded as she frowned at him.

“What the heck was that noise?” Ruuji says in response still rubbing his head.

Taiga looked down and the color pink splattered all over her face.

Ruuji tilted his head.

“Taiga? Are you ok?” Ruuji asked placing his hand on her thigh.

“Ruuji I’m ticklish.” Taiga said in response as she turned away from him.

Ruuji laughed. He didn’t realize how insignificant the situation was. He reached over to Taiga and flipped her over making her face him.

“Taiga, are you still in pain?” Ruuji asked.

Taiga shook her head. Ruuji smiled.

“Operation cheer Taiga up is a go.” Ruuji said with a playful smile on his face.

“Huh? RuuUUUJIIIIII!” Taiga squeaked as he started to squeeze her sides.

“What? I don’t think anything is wrong.” Ruuji teased as he continued his assault.

“IT TICKLES RUUJI!” Taiga laughed out as she squirmed.

“That’s kinda the point idiot.” Ruuji whispered in her ear making her squirm some more.

“Where else are you ticklish Miss Aisaka?” Ruuji asked. “Perhaps here?” Ruuji said as he shoved his hands up into Taiga’s armpits.

“RUHUHUJIIII! STHOHOP!” Taiga yelled as she started to kick at him.

“That’s not very nice is it Taiga.” Ruuji said as he grinned at her.

“ITS NOHOT MY FAULT YOU STUHUPID DOG!” Taiga said through fits of laughter.

“AT LEHEAST EHEASE MEHE INTO IHIT!”

“I’m sorry?” Ruuji said in response. “I couldn’t quite hear you. You mind repeating that?”

Taiga pushed her boyfriend away and jumped out of bed giggling. Ruuji did the same and picked her up in his arms. He wiggled his fingers on her tummy and kissed her on the forehead causing more giggles to bubble out from Taiga.

Ruuji put her down.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Ruuji said, “I’m going to continue eating.”

Taiga nodded happily and followed Ruuji back to the dinner table.

“AHH RUUJI THERES A COCKROACH!” Taiga screamed.

“WHAT WHERE?!” Ruuji responded as he scanned his surroundings.

Taiga ran to his plate and hovered her hand over it. Ruuji gasped sarcastically.

“You wouldn’t.” Ruuji said teasingly. Taiga then continued to pick up the fattest peice of pork and plop it neatly into her mouth.

“Now you’ve done it.” Ruuji said as she ran out of the room giggling. He chased after her and caught her in his arms. He lifted her up.

“I was saving that one for lastttt.” Ruuji whined.

Taiga giggled as she prepared for another session of torture.

Next time she’ll be sure to ask for pork cutlets again.

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Hope u enjoyed :D