#i love this universe so much i never want to leave

[mononijikayu]

toxic till the end — fushiguro toji.

“You can’t fix everything. You should know that.” you replied, your words trembling as they left your lips. “I don’t know if I can ever forget that.” He nodded slowly, his expression one of deep regret. “I know.” Silence grew once more between the two of you.  You could feel the tears pricking your eyes harshly. And you could tell that he was noticing as much as you.

GENRE: alternate universe - actor/s au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, nsfw, r-18, smut, making out, biting, scratching, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, fingering (female receiving), creampie, pet names (babe, etc....), age gap (reader is late 20s, toji is mid 30s) love, humor, light-hearted, long-term relationship, secret relationship, cheating, break-up, falling out of love, toxic relationship, drama, depression, grief, sexual intercourse, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of naked bodies, depiction of cheating, depiction of grief, depiction of depression, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, actor! toji, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 15k words

NOTE: i know i disappeared for almost a week and im really sorry,,,,,i just wasn't feeling well and in the middle of that - i was also busy. i genuinely wanted to publish something but there were things that came up - including me finishing a commission. and also worrying about uni stuff. its a really long one, i still have stuff to edit for bonus cuts for that. i am really sorry but i come back with a fury with toji!!! anyway, i hope my absence didnt make yall leave. enjoy and i love yall :']

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YOU NEVER LIKED BEING PERCEIVED. Even if you were an actor, you didn’t want to be. You absolutely hated the attention, you hated having to be known to people you didn’t know on the street.

He knew that. Which is why you never allowed yourself to go on dates with him in that local restaurant. Or ever allow yourself to be comfortable kissing him, knowing paparazzis were following you both. 

But he was loud about his love for you. He always has been. It was obvious when he looked at you during press tours. It was obvious when he heard the sound of your name and smiled like it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

He was never good at hiding the fact that he was in love. That’s just how it was with loving a man so magnetic and passionate as him. He tried to convince you that he wanted the world to know. 

Yet, you weren’t prepared to do that. You weren’t prepared for the world to know, for the world to be in your bed. You didn’t want everyone to know that you were his, because you were scared. You were scared of what could happen.

You’ve gone through the trauma of it before, your own ex–boyfriend announcing the break–up before you even knew about the break up. And all the people that hated you, for making him sad. For all those fantasies in their head of all the things you did wrong. You were frightful that it would repeat all over again.

Perhaps he got tired of that. Perhaps he got tired of waiting. Maybe he got tired of you. And you were scared of that. You were scared that this was the case.

You were horrified that he would do the same thing like that ex-boyfriend you loved before. You didn’t want to manifest it. But you also didn’t make a move. You were right. He would get tired of you. You made it this way. You let this happen.

The apartment was eerily silent, the kind of silence that pressed down on you, making every breath feel heavier. You stood in the living room, arms crossed, heart racing as you waited for Toji to come home. He had a late night shoot, he told you. They’d extended the shoot, because of the weather. That’s what he said in the next text. He won’t be home until today.

But as you waited home, all that plagued your mind was the conversation with your friend this morning. You felt sick as the words repeated over the phone.

It won’t go away, not even when you want it to. It remained ever so present, still echoing, hammering deep in your mind. It was as if the weight of her words settled deep in your chest like a knife would. 

"I saw Toji last night." she had said, her voice hesitant. "He was with someone else."

“What….what do you mean by that?” You muttered back at her, still reeling from the words that slipped from her mouth. “Surely it was just another cast member—”

“They were kissing, babes.” She told you earnestly, yet you could tell she was having a hard time with it. She knew that everything she’s saying was breaking your heart. “I’m so sorry.”

“No…no, thank you for telling me.”

You hung up after that. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you have said that could have made it any better? You couldn’t think of anything. All that remained were the years of memories together, now scattered across that empty space where love should be. 

The betrayal, the doubt, and the fear had been building in that space where you should feel your love for him. A place where it is still there, that love, bleeding and tattered by all that grief that comes with mourning the relationship. And now, standing here in the place you both called home, it felt like you were about to explode.

The door clicked open just around lunch time. You had remembered you had given Toji a separate key for your house. Just as you had a key for his. You didn’t want to see him just yet. Not right now. Fushiguro Toji stepped in, face covered by the levelling of his cap. His usual confident demeanor clouded by an unease you hadn’t seen before. He looked at you, the tension in the air immediately palpable.

Babe, didn’t know you’d be awake." he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

"You said you’d never do that to me." you replied, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger. “You said you wouldn’t be like him.”

He nodded, closing the door behind him. "Alright. What’s going on?"

"I know you were with someone else last night, and you kissed her. My friend saw you." you spat, your voice breaking with the anger and pain you kept hidden. "How could you do this? How could you betray me like that?"

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked caught off guard. Then his expression hardened. "It’s not what you think."

"Not what I think?" you repeated, your voice rising. "Then explain it to me, Toji. Explain why you were out with someone else while I was here, thinking everything was fine."

"I was tired, okay?" he snapped back, his voice louder now, the frustration evident. "Tired of feeling like I’m not enough, like I’m just waiting for you to trust me."

“How long has it been?” You asked him. “How long have you and your lover been going behind my back?”

“Babe—”

“How long?”

He looked away, the contorting guilt bellowing all over his face. This was a look you had seen time and time again. “A few months.”

"A few months." You repeated.

“Yes, but it was casual hook ups and she has a boyfriend too—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you shouted, tears streaming down your face. "You think that’s going to fix anything?"

"I didn’t plan for it to happen." he said, his voice softening, but the damage was done. "I was just... I felt alone."

"You felt alone?" you repeated, the hurt in your voice cutting through the air. "What about me, Toji? Do you have any idea how alone I’ve felt, wondering if you’d get tired of me, if you’d leave me like everyone else has?"

He took a step closer, his expression filled with regret. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you did." you whispered, the fight leaving your body as the weight of it all pressed down on you. "God, I just….is it my fault? Is it because I have a busy schedule? Or is it just because I haven’t allowed the world to know about you? And you were desperate to be seen with someone?”

He shook his head. “That’s not the case.”

“It seems to look like it.” You laughed to yourself, almost mad in the thought of your grief. “You did say she had a boyfriend. I doubt that would have changed much, if she knew that you belonged to someone.”

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with a regret that almost made your heart ache. His voice, usually so steady, trembled with sincerity. "Please, let’s talk about this. I can make this right."

The words hung in the air, heavy and bittersweet. You wanted to believe him, to let those words soothe the rawness inside you. But they felt too late, like a balm for wounds already too deep. You shook your head, the fight draining from your body as the weight of it all pressed down on you.

"You cheated on me. So brazenly." you whispered, your voice barely audible, laced with pain. "Just like he has. Just like every other man I’ve ever let into my life." The admission stung, the truth of it settling in your chest like a stone. 

“Babe…..”

"Maybe you were just another number, another ex."

His face twisted in anguish, his hands clenching at his sides. "Babe, please, listen to me—"

“I’ve listened to you long enough.” Your voice was soft but firm, carrying the finality of a decision made. Tears blurred your vision, hot and relentless, streaking down your cheeks. “Just... leave your keys. I’m going. I can’t stand to look at you or stay with you here.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Toji's gaze faltered, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something more, to plead, to explain. But no words came. Slowly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the keys that once symbolized shared moments, shared spaces, and placed them gently on the table.

“I’m sorry.” he said, his voice barely a whisper, a final echo of the love that had once been so vibrant between you.

You didn’t respond. There was nothing left to say. You turned, each step feeling heavier than the last as you walked away, leaving behind the remnants of a relationship that had once held so much promise. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound resonating like a chapter closing.

After that, he took all his stuff from your place and left. Even the keys. And you were glad he did. You were glad he wasn’t there. You blocked his number, you told your friends to stop relaying any messages from him he sent. You even cancelled any appearances with him for work, especially those for the Japanese leg of the press tour for Jujutsu Kaisen. 

And then you disappeared, as though you didn’t exist.

You moved apartments, you didn’t tell anyone where you were. Only your manager knew, just so you could make it easier for her to pick you up for work schedules when you start doing them again. And changed phones and deleted your social media presence. You just wanted to be alone. You wanted to process the death of a seven year relationship. 

Over half a year later, they start to see you again. The last they had seen you, you were still red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You had explained that you dealt with some personal loss, which wasn’t untrue. People had speculations, they always have. But you didn’t want to admit to anything. You just let them have their fun and you let yourself have your grief. 

The mirror had become a stranger for a while, reflecting someone you barely recognized, a shadow of the person you once were with Toji. The truest you had been yourself was with him. And now you have lost that. You had lost the version of yourself you had loved so dearly. And you hated how that too had revolved around him. Your most beloved life was him.

You hadn't planned on disappearing, not really. But each day felt heavier, each step harder to take, until retreating into the quiet solace of your loneliness and grief became the only thing you could manage.

And everyone in your agency was understanding of that. You haven’t truly taken a break in your entire career. And with that burn out, as much as the heartache, you had to have your time to yourself.

Little by little, you started to pick yourself up from the ruins of the failed relationship. Little by little you found yourself able to breathe again, even though you were still against the crashing waves of pain. At the very least there was some progress. At least you were getting somewhere.

Though, you couldn’t escape him. How could you, when he was so beloved by the world? Every corner of your world seemed to echo with the ghost of him. His face, smiling and confident, stared down at you from every billboard, a constant reminder of what you had lost years of your life to. Years you were the prettiest to yourself.

His voice filled the airwaves, every interview a cruel twist of fate, his laughter a haunting melody that played on repeat in your mind. Fushiguro Toji. His name was a bittersweet whisper, both a comfort and a curse, lingering in the recesses of your heart.

No one else knew that you had broken up. It was a secret you held close, it was a grief that belonged to you and only you. It was a wound too fresh and raw to expose to the world.

You hadn’t found the courage to say anything, convinced that speaking it aloud would make it all too real. Besides, you believed you didn’t have to explain yourself to anyone. Your pain was yours alone, a private storm that no one else could weather.

As you walked through the winding streets of Tokyo, the city lights blurred against your vision, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. The vibrant energy of the city felt distant, a stark contrast to the numbness that enveloped you. The world moved on, oblivious to the turmoil within you.

No one understood what you felt. No one probably ever would. It wasn’t just the loss of a relationship; it was the loss of a dream, a shared future that had unraveled before your eyes. The quiet moments, the laughter, the unspoken promises. They were all gone, leaving behind an emptiness that you didn’t know how to fill.

You kept walking, the sounds of the city fading into the background, your mind a whirlwind of memories and emotions. The ache in your chest was a constant reminder of what once was, and what could never be again. But even in the midst of the pain, you knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. Life was waiting, and somehow, you had to find a way to live it again.

The door to your apartment closed behind you with a soft click, but the silence inside felt deafening. You slipped off your shoes and let your bag fall to the floor, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders. The familiar surroundings felt foreign now, as if the air itself had shifted, carrying the remnants of memories you weren’t ready to face.

You wandered through the small space, your eyes scanning the room aimlessly. You knew you should do something, anything to distract yourself. So you started cleaning, hoping the mundane task would occupy your mind. You wiped down the counters, straightened the cushions, and folded the laundry. But every movement felt mechanical, your thoughts drifting back to him.

Then you saw it—his jacket. Your mouth went agape at the sight of it. It hung innocuously by the door, just as it always had when he would visit your apartment. You didn’t know you still had it, from the move. You didn’t know the movers packed it too. He didn’t take it with him when he left the house. 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. It was the same jacket he had worn countless times, the one that carried his scent, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely him. Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers grazing the fabric.

The moment you touched it, the floodgates opened. The tears came fast and uncontrollable, pouring down your face as you clutched the jacket to your chest. You sank to the floor, the weight of your sorrow too much to bear.

The scent of him enveloped you, bringing back a rush of memories. His arms around you, his laugh, the way he would kiss your forehead when you were feeling down.

You cried for everything you had lost. For the love you had poured into a man who could never fully be yours. A man older, with a life that always seemed just out of reach. A man who cherished his independence, who was never truly tethered to you in the way you had hoped. You had given him your prettiest years, the best of yourself, only to be left with the pieces of a broken heart.

Tomorrow was the shoot, and you knew you had to pull yourself together. The contract was signed long before the breakup, back when you thought working together would be another way to share your dreams, your passions, your lives. Now, it was the weight pulling you into a reality you weren’t ready to face.

Tonight, the pain was too fresh, too overwhelming. How could you stop crying when every corner of your life was a reminder of him? When his presence still lingered in the smallest things, like a ghost haunting the spaces you once shared?

You stayed there, curled on the floor, clutching the jacket as the tears continued to fall. It wasn’t just about losing him. It was about losing the future you had imagined, the dreams you had built together.

And as the night stretched on, you let yourself grieve, knowing that somehow, you had to find the strength to face tomorrow. But for now, all you could do was cry.

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MORNING ALWAYS DOES COME. And when it does, you try to make the effort to still stand on your own two toes. When the morning came, exhausted and numb, there you were facing the inevitable.

You bowed to everyone, greeting them with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. You smiled as though there was no problem at all. Chattered and sat there on the make–up chair like nothing had happened. As if there was nothing at all that shattered you to nothing. 

The studio lights felt harsher than you remembered, their unforgiving brightness illuminating every inch of the set—and every crack in your heart. It was as if they knew, as if they were exposing the rawness inside you, the pain you had tried so hard to bury. The bustling crew moved around you, adjusting cameras, checking props, but their chatter seemed distant, muffled by the storm in your mind.

You couldn’t help but feel nervous, your hands trembling ever so slightly. It felt strange, almost surreal, like this was your first time stepping in front of the camera. You had done this a hundred times before, but today was different. 

Today, you were a different person. The warmth of reassurance that once came from a simple touch, his hand brushing against yours, his quiet, steady presence—was gone. You were on your own now, and the weight of that reality pressed down on you like a heavy cloak.

You swallowed hard, the bile rising in your throat as the familiar sting of tears threatened to break free. Your muscles tensed, contorting as you fought the overwhelming urge to let go, to release the tears that had been building up inside you. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t let yourself fall apart here, not now.

Not now, you repeat to yourself, a mantra you clung to with every ounce of strength you had left. You didn’t want it. You didn’t want the tears, the loneliness, the pain. You didn’t need it. You had told yourself this over and over again. You didn’t need to feel this, not here, not under the glaring scrutiny of the studio lights and the watchful eyes of everyone around you.

Your breaths came in shallow, shaky gulps as you forced yourself to focus, to channel everything into the character you were about to portray. The lines blurred between the role you played and the person you were, but you clung to that thin line of separation, hoping it would hold. This was your sanctuary, your escape. If you could just hold on a little longer, maybe the pain wouldn’t consume you.

You could do this, you told yourself.

You could survive this, you know you could.

It’s only for a few weeks of this misery.

But as you lifted your eyes, you saw him again.

And all that resolve dissolved almost instantly.

Fushiguro Toji stood across the room, talking to the director, his usual charm evident in the way his shoulders shook with laughter. The sound of it, rich and familiar, carried across the set, drawing the attention of those nearby. He looked relaxed, his posture loose, his smile easy. He seemed to be in happy spirits, more than the last time you saw him.

It was a sharp contrast to the last memory you had of him—tense, conflicted, the weight of your shared history etched into every line of his face. But now, he seemed lighter, as if the burden of your breakup had lifted from his shoulders. The sight of him like this stirred a mix of emotions within you. Jealousy, sadness, and an aching longing you tried to suppress.

You watched from a distance, your gaze lingering longer than you intended. It was painful, seeing him so carefree, as if nothing had changed, as if the past weeks hadn’t unraveled you both. But there he was, moving through the room with an ease that seemed effortless, while you struggled to keep your composure.

The director clapped him on the back, and Toji’s laugh echoed again, brighter this time. You quickly averted your eyes, pretending to busy yourself with your script, but the image of him remained imprinted in your mind. It was harder than you thought it would be, being in the same space, breathing the same air, while feeling worlds apart.

For a moment, you wondered if he had truly moved on, or if this was just a façade, a mask to hide whatever he might still be feeling. But you pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. What mattered now was surviving this day, this scene, and the countless others that would follow. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable interaction. You had to face him eventually.

The director’s voice cut through the low hum of the studio, calling for everyone to take their places. “Alright, let’s get started! Everyone, introduce yourselves before we begin.”

You took a deep breath, forcing your shoulders to relax as you stepped forward with the rest of the cast. The weight of the moment pressed heavily on your chest, but you reminded yourself to stay calm, to keep it together. 

Your eyes, however, betrayed you, flickering towards Toji for the briefest second before you snapped them away, focusing instead on a point somewhere beyond him. You were a professional. You had done this countless times before. You had been through worse—or so you told yourself. You could do this. You had to do this. 

As the introductions began, your turn loomed closer. Each name and face passed by in a blur until the spotlight shifted to you. You bowed to each and every one, smiling at them as best you could even though you couldn’t process it all just yet. 

“Hello, nice to meet you all!” you said, introducing yourself. Your voice is steady despite the storm within. “It’s great to be working with everyone.”

Your words were polite, professional, and utterly detached. At least you notice it. But the others didn’t seem to. You could see the blur in all their smiles towards you, shining in a way you couldn’t recognize. You barely registered the murmured responses of the others, your focus pinned on keeping your composure. Then it was Toji’s turn.

He stepped forward, his presence commanding as always. “Fushiguro Toji.” he said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room. There was a familiar warmth in his tone, one that made your heart clench. “Looking forward to working with all of you.”

His blue–green eyes flicked to you, just for a moment, but it was enough to send a ripple of tension through your body. You held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than you intended, before quickly looking away, pretending to be engrossed in the script in your hands.

The director clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright, let’s dive into it! Remember, the first scene is a heavy scene, so take your time and feel it out. Call for a cut any time you want to. So let’s start, like we rehearsed.”

You nodded at the director. Everyone moved to their places, and you found yourself standing just a few feet away from Toji. The air between you felt charged, the unspoken history hanging like a shadow over the set. He glanced at you, his expression unreadable.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost cautious.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. “Yeah.” you murmured, your eyes fixed on the floor.

Toji hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but the director called for action, and just like that, you were thrust into the scene. The lines between fiction and reality blurred once again, and all you could do was hold on and hope you made it through without falling apart.

As the cameras rolled and the scene began, you pushed everything else aside, locking the pain away in a corner of your heart. The studio lights continued to shine, harsh and unrelenting, but you stood your ground. You didn’t need your tears. You didn’t need your loneliness. All you needed was to make it through this moment. And somehow, you would.

The first scene couldn’t have been more ironic if the universe had written it itself. A husband and wife, embroiled in a bitter argument, their marriage on the brink of collapse. Every word in the script seemed like a cruel reflection of your own reality. The dialogue cut too close, each line a dagger, the emotions too raw to ignore.

You had told yourself you could handle it, that you could compartmentalize the character’s turmoil from your own. But as the words spilled from your lips, it felt as if the character had seized control of your body, dragging all your buried feelings to the surface, laying them bare for everyone to see.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” you shouted, your voice cracking with the weight of suppressed emotion. The accusation wasn’t just a line; it was a scream from your heart. “You’re always so wrapped up in your own world! What about us? What about me?”

The tears that pricked your eyes weren’t from the script. They were your own, threatening to fall, the pain of the breakup echoing in every syllable. Across from you, Toji’s eyes darkened, his expression hardening as he stepped into his character. His voice, sharp and filled with a familiar bitterness, mirrored your own anguish.

“Don’t act like I’m the only one who made mistakes!” he shot back, his tone rising, the frustration palpable. “You think it’s easy, carrying the weight of everything? Maybe if you tried to understand instead of blame—”

“Understand?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. The sting in your eyes blurred your vision, but you pressed on. “I’ve tried! I’ve given everything, and it’s never enough for you!”

The room felt electric, the tension between you both so thick it was as if the air itself might shatter under the weight of it. Each word hung in the air, resonating with a truth neither of you could ignore.

The director’s voice called out, “Cut! Let’s take a moment.”

The tension didn’t dissipate with the end of the scene. It lingered, heavy and suffocating, as if the raw emotions couldn’t be contained by the simple call for a break. You stood there, your chest heaving with the effort of keeping your tears at bay, your hands clenched into fists at your sides.

Toji remained across from you, his jaw tight, his eyes still locked onto yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, as if frozen in the aftermath of the words that had been exchanged—not just between the characters, but between the two of you.

You stood frozen, your chest heaving as the emotions coursed through you. Toji turned to face you, his expression unreadable. You saw him take a step toward you, and panic clawed at your chest, but you forced yourself to stay put. Running away wouldn’t solve anything. You had to face this, face him.

“Hey.” Toji said softly, his voice gentler than it had been during the scene. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, nodding even though your body betrayed you with a slight tremble. “Yeah. Just… caught me off guard, that’s all.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to gauge how much of the scene was acting and how much was real. “It felt real.” he admitted, his tone cautious. “Too real.”

“Yeah.” You murmured, not looking at him. You didn’t want to. You didn’t know if you were prepared to just yet. 

The tension between you and Toji was palpable, thick like fog, clouding every inch of the set. You stood there, heart pounding, as the reality of the situation settled deeper into your bones. This was not just a fleeting moment; this was going to be every day, side by side, pretending like everything was fine when it was far from it.

Toji shifted on his feet, his usual confidence seemingly faltering as he took in your guarded expression. “I didn’t think you’d come today.” he admitted, his voice lower, more vulnerable than you remembered. “Thought you’d call in sick.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I have a job to do.” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Besides….you showed up too.”

Silence befell the two of you after those words. You started fidgeting with your fingers, something you would do when you were nervous. As you feel your throat closed up, you purse your lips into a flat line. You thought it was time to walk away, to take your time away from him before the next take.

Finally, Toji broke the silence, stepping closer, his voice lower but no less intense. “It was just acting.” he said, his tone softer, almost vulnerable. “I’m sorry for my tone.”

You swallowed hard, your throat constricting. “So was I.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. 

The tears you had been holding back now threatened to spill over, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. Toji’s gaze grew softer as he looked at you, the anger from the take earlier melting into something more akin to sorrow. Something you think you were more familiar with.

“I didn’t want things to end that way.” He admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Can we not talk about it—”

“But I want to.” He tells you in his retort, abruptly cutting you off. “I need to. I want to fix everything.”

“You can’t fix everything. You should know that.” you replied, your words trembling as they left your lips. “I don’t know if I can ever forget that.”

He nodded slowly, his expression one of deep regret. “I know.”

Silence grew once more between the two of you. 

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes harshly.

And you could tell that he was noticing as much as you.

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again. “I’m glad you’re here….at least.” he said quietly, sincerity lacing his words. “I know it’s hard, but maybe… maybe we can find a way to make this work.”

You almost laughed, the irony of it all hitting you. “Make this work?” you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief. “You mean like how we were supposed to make us work?”

Toji winced, the pain in your words cutting through him. “I didn’t mean it like that, you know that.” he said softly. “Look, I….I know I hurt you. I know things didn’t go the way we wanted. But this project… it’s important to both of us. Can we at least try to be civil? For the sake of the work?”

You bit your lip, torn between the urge to lash out and the need to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “Civil.” you echoed, testing the word on your tongue. “I guess we can try.”

He offered a small, hesitant smile. “Thank you.”

A tense silence settled again before he spoke once more. “Look, I don’t want to make things harder than they already are. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. Just... don’t shut me out completely.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “Space would be good.” you agreed, your voice firmer now. “Let’s just focus on the work. That’s all we need to do.”

Toji nodded, accepting your terms. “Okay. Work it is.”

The director called for everyone to reset for the next take, but the two of you remained locked in place, the world around you fading into the background. It was a moment of unspoken understanding, a shared pain that neither of you could fully articulate. As the crew moved around you, preparing for the next shot, Toji took a step back, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer. 

“Let’s get through this.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that spoke of more than just the scene ahead. “We owe it to ourselves.”

You nodded, unable to speak, and turned away. Your assistant handed you the script once again and you found yourself trying to focus on the script in your hands. The show had to go on, but the lines between fiction and reality had never felt so blurred.

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, a mix of relief and sorrow washing over you. This was your new reality. It probably always will, when people like your chemistry together. 

You are going to be stuck working side by side with the man who broke your heart. But as you watched him go, you realized something: you weren’t the same person you were before. You had been broken, yes, but you were also stronger now.

You knew that. And maybe, just maybe, that strength would see you through this. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders. The day had only just begun. But you were praying that he doesn’t look at you with that look in his eyes again. 

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DAYS ON SET BECAME A NEW STANDARD OF LIVING. You haven’t been sure you were used to it yet after a long time away, but you were sure about to get there. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

As the days turned into weeks, the rhythm of the shoot became oddly familiar. Early morning calls, practice for heavy scenes, dress rehearsal, the chaos of set preparation, and the god awful long night to morning shoots. 

This was the relentless cycle of takes transformed into your new daily standard routine. You and Toji fell into an unspoken pattern between the two of you, though. But you had to be, if you wanted to keep your jobs. It was a strange thing to witness, if one was being honest. It took a lot of effort to memorize the dance. And every bit of that was equal parts effortless and exhausting. 

On the surface, you were professionals—co-workers delivering lines, executing roles, keeping up appearances. Especially him, he was your senpai too. He was good at maintaining that mask on him more than you were. 

But beneath the polished veneer, tension simmered, weaving itself into every glance, every exchange, every shared silence. You could tell just by looking at his eyes. No one else but you could do that, after all.

The studio became your shared battlefield, its walls echoing with unspoken words. You threw yourself into the work, burying raw emotions beneath layers of performance day after day.

But when the director yelled for the cut, you knew that the veil dropped most instantaneously. And that always leaves you vulnerable to the presence of the man who had once been your everything. 

Fushiguro Toji was close enough to touch yet felt a world away from you. And you were certain that he felt the same way about you too. After all, you had a wall he couldn’t reach. You wouldn’t let him reach it. There was no way for him to know what to do with you. 

But this doesn’t stop you from looking. Nor did it stop him from doing the same thing. You had noticed everything about him and what he does. It was obvious how hard it is to be exes on set. It was even harder when you were soulmates. 

There was the slight hesitation in his laugh, the way his smile sometimes faltered at the edges. He was both familiar and foreign, a stranger wearing a face you had loved. Everything about him was something you knew and everything about him was something that was a mystery. It was a really intriguing thing. And that was the worst thing of all. You were intrigued about the man you loved and hated all at once.

Conversations were sparse at first, clinical and focused on the work. You both clung to professionalism like a lifeline, avoiding anything that might hint at the depth of your shared history. The lines were clear: scenes, blocking, timing, delivery. Anything beyond that was dangerous territory.

You were determined to keep things professional, to relegate your relationship to the sterile confines of work. But no matter how hard you tried, the walls you’d built between yourselves began to splinter under the weight of the unspoken.

The first crack came during a late-night shoot. The two of you stood under the harsh glow of the heavy set lights, running through lines while the crew adjusted the framing. Toji, leaning casually against a prop table, smirked at a mistake you made while stumbling over a particularly convoluted line.

“That’s the third time now.” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. There was a teasing edge to it, but it was softer than you remembered.

You shot him a sharp look. “Thanks for keeping count.” you replied, your tone clipped, though your lips twitched against your will.

His smirk widened, but there was no malice in it, just a faint warmth. “You’re welcome. I thought I’d help out since you seem… preoccupied.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing him off. “Preoccupied with carrying this scene, maybe.”

The banter was fleeting, but it lingered in the air long after the cameras rolled again. Once again, you did the best you could and continued to bring your spirits up. As the night progressed, the director started to feel a little bit more satisfied with one or two shots. And that had at least allowed you the hope of going to sleep soon.

Later, during one of the scene changes, you caught him watching you as you adjusted your new  costume. He didn’t look away quickly enough, and your eyes met. For a moment, the distance between you felt less insurmountable, the years of hurt and silence shrinking into the space of a single glance. That glance was the longest moment of your life, you were sure.

“What?” you asked, a touch defensive, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, as if debating whether to respond, then shrugged. “Nothing. You just… remind me of something.”

You wanted to press him, to ask what he meant, but the vulnerability in his expression stopped you. His eyes, usually so guarded, were uncharacteristically soft, as if he was on the verge of saying something he couldn’t quite bring himself to voice.

Instead of pushing, you turned back to the mirror, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingered, tracing the reflection of your face as though searching for something. It was recognition, understanding, forgiveness.

But then you caught yourself. The silence was becoming unbearable, the air between you thick with things neither of you dared to say. You cleared your throat, the sound breaking the tension like a sharp crack in the stillness. 

“We should start rehearsing.” you said, your voice steady, though your heart was racing. “For the scene.”

For a moment, Toji didn’t respond. He seemed to weigh your words, as though deciding whether to challenge the sudden shift or let it go. Finally, he tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in quiet disbelief.

“...Are you comfortable doing that with me?” he asked, his tone careful, hesitant. It wasn’t the confident Toji you remembered, the one who always seemed so sure of himself, even when everything around him was chaotic. This was different—softer, almost unsure.

You hesitated, the question throwing you off balance. There was a part of you that wanted to lash out, to let him know how much his presence still affected you, how rehearsing with him wasn’t just work. But you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to focus on the here and now.

“Yeah, why not?” you replied, shrugging as though it didn’t matter. Your tone was light, almost dismissive, but the tension in your voice betrayed you.

Toji’s lips twitched, not quite a smile but not entirely neutral either. “Why not, huh….” he echoed softly, more to himself than to you. He took a step closer, crossing into your personal space but stopping just short of overstepping. 

“Okay.” he said finally, his voice steady now, though his eyes still carried that flicker of something unresolved. “Let’s rehearse.”

You nodded, turning away from the mirror and moving toward the small table where the script sat. You busied yourself with flipping through the pages, anything to avoid looking at him directly. But you knew, you could feel it — he was looking at you and only you.

As you both settled into the familiar rhythm of line-reading, the tension between you didn’t fade entirely, but it softened, shaped by the shared focus on the work. There were moments, brief but poignant, where you caught glimpses of the man you had once known in the way he delivered a line or the way he watched you deliver yours. 

Yet you knew when you said these things, you knew it would be bad. You knew they would hit too close to home, too personal. And that was what happened. When the two of you were finally shooting the emotional scene, it was more real than your practice and perhaps, that’s what fueled your acting. 

The dialogue was heavy, charged with the kind of raw emotion that mirrored your real-life tension a little too closely. It was a confrontation scene this time around—a breaking point between two lovers teetering on the edge of collapse. As you delivered the lines you had practiced, the words felt too personal, too sharp, cutting into wounds that hadn’t fully healed. And you hated it.

“That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?” your character accused, the anger in your voice reverberating through the silent set. “You push people away the second they get too close. You think it’s easier to walk away than to face what you’ve done.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel every pair of eyes in the room on you, the weight of the moment pressing down like a vice. But your focus was on Toji.

He stood across from you, his character’s guilt written across his face, but there was something else there—something unspoken that made your chest tighten. Somehow, it was his real face. Somehow, it was his truest blossom of regret.

The director called for a break, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. The crew scattered, murmuring amongst themselves, but the energy in the room remained electric, charged with the kind of intensity that couldn’t simply be switched off.

You turned away quickly, grabbing a water bottle from the craft table. Your hands were trembling slightly, your pulse still racing. You focused on the coolness of the bottle against your skin, anything to ground yourself, to pull you out of the emotional spiral the scene had sent you into.

“You okay?” Toji’s voice came from behind you, quiet but insistent.

You stiffened, refusing to turn around. “I’m fine. Just… in the scene.”

“Right.” he said, but there was a note of skepticism in his voice. “You sure that’s all it is?”

Something in his tone made you snap. You spun around to face him, your eyes blazing. “Why? Do you think I’m talking about you?”

Toji’s jaw tightened, his posture rigid. For a moment, his mask of calm slipped, and the vulnerability beneath it was laid bare. “I don’t know.” he said, his voice low and even. “Are you?”

The question hung between you, the weight of it almost unbearable. His gaze locked onto yours, unflinching, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you standing there, raw and exposed.

“What if I was?” you shot back, your voice quieter now, but no less sharp. “Would it even matter?”

His lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, neither of you willing to back down, yet both too afraid to fully engage. Before either of you could break the impasse, a crew member approached, clipboard in hand. 

“We’re resetting for the next take.” they announced, oblivious to the charged atmosphere. “Five minutes.”

You tore your gaze away from Toji, nodding curtly at the crew member and quietly thanked them before turning on your heel and walking away. Your footsteps echoed in the cavernous studio, each one feeling heavier than the last.

As you retreated to the corner of the set, you could feel Toji’s eyes on you, his presence lingering like a ghost. Even as the crew busied themselves with preparations and the director barked instructions, the tension between you remained, an invisible thread pulling tauter with every passing moment.

You leaned against a prop, exhaling shakily, trying to center yourself. The scene was over, but the emotions it had stirred up were still thrumming through your veins. And as much as you tried to tell yourself otherwise, you knew this wasn’t just about the script. This was about the two of you—about all the things you’d left unsaid and all the wounds that still refused to heal.

══════════════════

YOU HADN’T READ THE NEXT PART OF THE SCRIPT YET. You had been too emotionally exhausted about what you had been doing for work that you had put off reading the script. Which was fine, you were able to memorize things easily when you see it long enough. That’s why you have this sort of career in the first place.

So the next morning, you arrived on set early with your manager. You greeted everyone as you were clutching your script tightly in your hands. Your manager quickly greeted everyone and went to you, before telling you that he’ll get you both coffee from the coffee truck. You nodded at her, telling her that you’ll just be sitting on the trailer.

It had become a habit, one you told yourself was about preparation — ‘it will work out’; but deep down you knew it was also a way to mentally brace yourself for whatever the day might bring. You have told yourself that phrase for years now, but perhaps, it  didn’t hit as hard as it has now. Much more because you were working with the man you were in a relationship with for quite a lot of years. 

Working with Fushiguro Toji was a constant balancing act, teetering on the edge of professionalism and the unresolved tension that hung between you like a storm cloud storming away with its raging thunder and its hurling battering rains. That was just what it was, when you were working with someone you still had unresolved issues with. 

You settled into your usual corner, flipping through the script for the day’s scenes. You moved to take the pen from your bag, and started highlighting things you wanted to work on and things you wanted to ask for feedback from the director. As you skimmed the pages, your eyes caught on a block of stage directions that made your stomach drop. A part you hadn’t seen just yet.

Hiruka steps closer to Suzaku, their faces just barely inches apart. The tension between them is palpable, one that pushes them together like gravity and after a beat, they kiss.

Your mouth went agape at what you had just read. This was not what you expected. You clutched your heart, feeling how it skipped a beat. For a moment, you just stared at the words, as if doing so would somehow make them disappear. But they didn’t. The scene was there, in black and white, unavoidable.

"Everything okay?" a voice broke through your thoughts. One of the assistant directors, passing by with a clipboard, glanced at you with mild concern. 

You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Just going over the script.”

She nodded, already distracted by another crew member waving her down, and you exhaled slowly, your mind racing. You haven't kissed Toji since… well, since before everything had fallen apart. 

The idea of doing it now, even in character, felt like reopening a wound you’d barely managed to scab over. Even though it had been six, seven months since the breakup, the thought still wasn’t something you had gotten used to. The memories of what had been lingered like a ghost, haunting the edges of your mind whenever you let your guard down.

But then again, no one knew you were dating. To everyone else, you were just friends. Friends and co-workers. That was the story they had always known, the one you had carefully curated and protected. It wasn’t their fault—they didn’t see the quiet moments shared off-set, the way his hand used to linger on yours, the stolen kisses behind closed doors, the whispered promises of something that had felt so certain at the time.

You… you weren’t ready to tell anyone. The idea of opening up that part of your life to the world had felt too vulnerable, too risky. So you had kept it quiet, only sharing the truth with a handful of people you trusted—close friends who had sworn to keep your secret. Back then, it had felt like the right choice, like something sacred and yours to guard.

Now, though, it felt like a double-edged sword. No one on set knew about the history between you and Toji, which meant no one understood how charged this scene truly was. They didn’t know how much it would take to get through it without letting the weight of the past seep into every glance, every word, every touch. To them, it was just another part of the job.

But to you? To you, it was a reckoning.

You rubbed your temples, trying to shake the thought away, but it clung to you stubbornly. You were here to work, to act, to tell a story. You had gotten through every other scene with Toji, no matter how tense or emotionally taxing it had been. You could get through this one too.

Couldn’t you?

Your internal spiral was interrupted when Fushiguro Toji walked onto the set, his usual calm demeanor in place. He spotted you almost immediately and gave a slight nod in greeting, but his expression shifted when he noticed the look on your face.

“Something wrong?” he asked as he approached, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You hesitated, holding up the script instead of answering. “Have you read today’s scenes?”

He frowned slightly, taking the script from your hand and flipping through it. You watched his blue–green eyes scan the page one after another, his expression shifting from neutral to surprised and then to something you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh.” he said simply, his voice unreadable.

“Yeah.” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh.”

Toji closed the script, handing it back to you. “Well….” he began, his tone measured. “It’s part of the job, right?”

His casual response made your irritation flare. “Don’t act like this is nothing.” you shot back, keeping your voice low but firm. “You know it’s not. Not with us.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not saying it’s nothing. I’m saying we’ve done this before. We’re professionals for a reason. We’ll handle it.”

The word professionals felt like a jab, as if he was reminding you that whatever was between you didn’t matter anymore. You opened your mouth to argue but stopped yourself, biting back the words. Instead, you took a step back, putting more space between you.

“I just... wasn’t expecting it.” you admitted, your voice softer now. “I guess I should do more reading on the script before I say yes. But then again, we were together before this. I would have thought differently if we were….”

You stopped yourself from saying anything. You sighed as you took the script back from him, not looking at him. You fumble through the script once again, stopping at where you were reading earlier. For a moment, Toji didn’t respond. He simply watched you, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded. 

“Neither was I. But maybe it’s a good thing.”

You frowned. “How could this possibly be a good thing?”

“Because….” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “If we can get through this, we can get through anything else this job throws at us.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond to him whatsoever. There was a sincerity in his tone that caught you off guard, a reminder of the man you used to know, a man you once loved—the one who could somehow say the exact thing you needed to hear, even when you didn’t want to hear it.

“Let’s just get it over with.” you muttered finally, turning away to avoid meeting his gaze. You hoped the words would end the conversation, but Toji, ever persistent, wasn’t ready to let it drop. “As soon as possible.”

“Are we going to rehearse—”

“We are not going to rehearse kissing.” you interrupted sharply, spinning back toward him with a pointed glare before he could finish the thought.

He blinked, momentarily startled by your tone, then raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay. No rehearsing. he said, his voice calm but edged with a hint of amusement. “I wasn’t going to push it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical. “I mean it. We know how to kiss for work. It’s technical, not personal. We’ll hit our marks, make it look convincing, and that’s it.”

“Got it.” he replied, his tone unreadable. But the faint twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth betrayed him, and it made your chest tighten with a mix of irritation and something far more complicated.

“I’m serious, Toji.” you added, folding your arms across your chest. “This doesn’t have to be a thing. Let’s just focus on the scene and move on.”

He tilted his head, his gaze softening just slightly. “I know. I’m not trying to make it a thing, I promise.” he said quietly. “But it’s not like we can pretend it doesn’t feel... different.”

You froze, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Different. Of course, it felt different. How could it not? You had kissed him before, really kissed him. Many countless times in another life, when things had been simpler, when you weren’t standing on opposite sides of an invisible wall you’d both helped build.

But you couldn’t let yourself dwell on that now. Shaking your head, you turned back toward the set. “It doesn’t matter.” you said, more to yourself than to him. “It’s just a scene, Toji. That’s all it is.”

You didn’t wait for his response as you walked away, but you felt the weight of his gaze on your back, heavy and lingering. And as much as you tried to push it down, you couldn’t shake the sense that, for Toji, it might not be just a scene after all. You looked for your manager. 

You needed to get that coffee from her as soon as possible. 

And perhaps, a donut. You need enough sugar to get through the day.

And so you let hours pass by, trying to get the idea of the kiss off your mind. You were not going to think about it until you had to. That’s what you tell yourself. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

How will it happen? How will you end up lasting with how he would touch you? How could you keep this professional? You shook your head. You hated how much you were getting too into this.

When you finally make it off to set once again, you find yourself overwhelmed already. After going through the worst of thoughts while on the makeup chair, you couldn’t help but feel even worse here.

The set was quiet as the crew adjusted the lights and cameras for the upcoming scene. You stood off to the side, arms crossed, your script clutched tightly in one hand. The weight of what was about to happen pressed on you like a physical force, making it hard to breathe.

Toji was across the room, leaning casually against a prop table as the makeup artist gave him a last touch-up. He looked calm. Too calm, like this was just another day, another scene. Like there was nothing to freak out about. It irritated you. How could he be so composed when every nerve in your body felt like it was on edge?

Soon enough, the director called for everyone to take their places. You moved to your mark, heart pounding. Fushiguro Toji approached, his steps measured, his expression unreadable. The tension between you thickened as the cameras rolled into position, and the director gave the signal to begin.

The scene started smoothly enough. The dialogue flowed naturally, your voices blending together in a rhythm you had mastered over weeks of working together. But as the emotional intensity of the scene built, you felt the lines between acting and reality begin to blur.

“That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?” you said, your voice trembling with both your character’s anger and something far more personal. “You push people away the second they get too close. You think it’s easier to walk away than to face what you’ve done.”

Toji stepped closer, his character’s frustration mirroring something unspoken in his own eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” he shot back, his voice low, dangerous. “You don’t know what it’s like to carry this kind of weight.”

“I don’t know?” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know, because I was there. I was always there.”

The director hadn’t called the cut, so you kept going, even though your hands were trembling and your breath was coming faster than it should have been. Toji’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might break character. But then he stepped even closer, closing the gap between you.

And then it happened as naturally as breathing —the kiss.

It started the way it was supposed to, his hands lightly brushing against your arms as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours with the perfect mix of tension and tenderness. But as the seconds ticked by, something shifted. The scene was supposed to end with a brief, restrained kiss. I twas just enough to convey the characters’ unresolved feelings. But Toji didn’t pull back, and neither did you.

Instead, the kiss deepened even more, the intensity between you igniting like a spark meeting gasoline. Fire blossoming in the spark of that gasoline, over and over as you both push and pull.

His hand moved to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a way that felt far too familiar, far too real. Your hands, which were meant to stay at your sides, found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if you were anchoring yourself to him.

The room around you faded from your reality. The set, the cameras, the crew—it all disappeared as the kiss pulled you under, dredging up emotions you thought you’d buried. Pain, longing, regret. All of it crashed over you in an overwhelming wave, pushing and pulling you towards him.

“Cut!” the director finally called, his voice sharp enough to break through the haze.

You and Toji  finally let loose and separated abruptly, both of you breathing hard. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the equipment and the muffled sounds of crew members shuffling around. No one said anything, but the charged atmosphere was impossible to ignore.

The director, who had been watching the monitors intently, clapped his hands together. “That was… intense.” he said, nodding approvingly. “Let’s reset and do one more take.”

You couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze, least of all Toji’s, as you stepped back to your mark. Your lips still tingled, and your heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of your chest. As the crew moved around you, resetting for the next take, 

Toji leaned in close, his voice low so only you could hear. “You okay?”

You nodded stiffly, refusing to look at him. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t. And as you prepared to shoot the scene again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever had just happened wasn’t just acting—it was something far more dangerous. Many things were pushing through your mind over and over again. Things you shouldn’t think about. People you shouldn’t think about. 

You touch your lips, before stopping and closing your eyes to take a breath. Toji was still looking at you, as though trying to make sure you were alright. But you couldn’t be coherent, you couldn’t think straight. Not when his lips tasted like forbidden fruit, from paradise, from heaven.

The moment the director called for another take, you felt your chest constrict. You couldn’t do it again—not right away, not with how raw everything felt. Your hands were trembling, your head spinning, and your heart still hadn’t slowed from the intensity of the scene—or the kiss.

“I need a break, director.” you muttered, barely audible, before turning and walking off set without waiting for a response. “Please….I…”

You started to move before you could register it. You ignored the crew members and assistants milling about, their curious glances following you as you navigated through the maze of equipment and props.

You didn’t stop until you found a quiet corner near the back of the lot, where the noise of the set faded into a distant hum. Leaning against a wall, you exhaled shakily, pressing your hands against your temples as you tried to steady yourself.

You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt his presence before he spoke.

“Hey.” Toji’s voice was soft but steady, cutting through the silence.

You stiffened, not turning around. “I just need a minute.”

“I know that.” he replied, his tone careful, as though he were trying not to spook you. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You scoffed, your laugh bitter and hollow. “Why do you care if I’m okay?”

His footsteps grew closer until he was standing just a few feet away. “Because I do.” he said simply. “I always have. You know that.”

You spun around to face him, your frustration bubbling over. “You don’t get to do that, Toji. You don’t get to pretend like everything’s fine, like you care, after everything—”

“I’m not pretending!” he interrupted, his voice rising just enough to cut you off. His jaw was tight, his expression pained. “You think this is easy for me? You think I wanted any of this to happen?”

“You walked away, Toji.” you shot back, your voice shaking. “You made your choice. And now you’re acting like—like—”

“Like what?” he challenged, stepping closer. “Like I regret it? Because I do. I regret everything, alright? But I can’t change the past. I can’t undo what I did. All I can do is try to…” He trailed off, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Try to do what?” you demanded, your own anger simmering beneath the surface. “Make yourself feel better? Redeem yourself? Because that’s not how it works, Toji. You don’t just get to show up and act like we can fix this with one stupid kiss!”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” he said, his voice softening, though the intensity in his eyes didn’t waver. “I just… I miss you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to look away from him, but you can’t. How could you, when he was looking at you like that? Like he still sees you to be the only one for him. Like he still loves you most in this world.

“Toji…” you started, but your voice cracked, and you couldn’t finish the sentence.

His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, his expression torn. “Tell me to stop.” he murmured, taking another step forward. “If you don’t want this, just say the word, and I’ll walk away.”

You wanted to say it. No, you wanted to scream at him. You wanted to push him away and shove him and be angry with him, to tell him that you were done, that the past was the past and there was no going back. That you do not love him anymore. But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, when he closed the distance between you, cupping your face with his hands, you didn’t pull away. His lips found yours, and the kiss was nothing like the one on set. It was desperate and unguarded, filled with all the things neither of you had been able to say.

Your hands clung to the fabric of his shirt, almost as if you needed the physical contact to ground yourself. The kiss deepened as your body pressed against his, the tension between you both crackling in the space that had once been filled with affection and now was choked with pain and unresolved emotion. His lips were insistent, hungry in a way that told you just how long he had been holding this back. The rawness of it, the desperation, sent a shiver down your spine.

His hands moved to the back of your neck, his fingers curling into your hair as if he were afraid you’d slip away again. When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, both of you stood there, forehead to forehead, your breaths heavy and unsteady. The world around you was a distant blur, and all that mattered was the way his chest rose and fell against yours.

The silence was suffocating, yet neither of you moved to speak. You couldn’t find the words, couldn’t find the strength to pull away from him again. He, too, seemed frozen in the moment, as if this brief touch of something real had left him equally shaken. But then, before you could fully collect yourself, he pulled you even closer. His body heat, his scent, enveloping you in the tight space between you.

Your eyes met once more. This time, there was no confusion, no uncertainty. The vulnerability in his gaze mirrored your own, and for just a heartbeat, you both let the walls crumble just enough to see each other for what you were—people who had been broken, but still searching for something to hold on to.

And then, his lips were on yours again, more forceful this time, as though he couldn’t hold back any longer, as though the weight of everything between you was too much to bear in silence. You didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. 

The emotions inside you were tangled, each one vying for dominance. Hurt, longing, anger, and something deeper. A desperate need to feel something other than the emptiness that had been haunting you both for months.

His hands slid lower, tracing the line of your back, and you gasped against his mouth as your body pressed into his more firmly. It felt dangerous, reckless, but in that moment, you didn’t care. There was something that felt like freedom in this chaotic, emotional storm that you both had been trying so hard to avoid.

But it wasn’t just about the kiss. It was about everything that led to this point. The unfinished conversations, the words you both kept swallowing, the feelings you couldn’t express. His lips softened against yours for just a moment before he pulled back slightly, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t know how to fix this.” he murmured, his voice rough, laden with frustration. "But I need you to know... I never stopped caring."

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat ringing in your ears. You swallowed hard, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. "Then why did you leave?" you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady.

His eyes darkened, his face tightening with regret. “Because I was scared,” he said, the words slow, deliberate. “I thought I could push it all down, but it just… it just made everything worse.”

You could feel his hands trembling against your back, his words raw with honesty. And for a moment, you let the weight of that honesty sink in.

“I don’t know what this is,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you fought the lump in your throat. “But I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

Toji’s thumb brushed over your cheek, and you could feel the conflict in him—he wanted to comfort you, to make things right, but you both knew there were no easy fixes, no simple words that could undo the damage done.

“I know,” he said softly, his voice full of sorrow. “I know, but I’ll be here. I’ll be here until you decide if you want to give me a chance to make it right.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you rested your forehead against his, the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster threatening to overtake you. You weren’t sure what this meant, what the future held, but in that moment, you allowed yourself to feel it. 

The rawness, the tension, the connection. The kiss wasn’t just a kiss—it was a fragile promise, a silent acknowledgment that, despite everything, there was still something worth fighting for between you.

But you both knew that this wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning of something uncertain, something that would require more than a kiss to fix. But for now, you didn’t need answers. You just needed this. This seesaw game. 

The more you were on this seesaw, the more you got to him. The more he’s here with you, locked in this cage of your own toxic desires. His touch, his presence, and the understanding that, for the first time in a long while, maybe you weren’t as alone as you thought.

“This doesn’t change anything.” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“I know.” he said softly. “But it doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.”

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the rush of emotions flooding through you, but it was no use. Whatever had just happened, whatever this was. It wasn’t over. And you weren’t sure if that terrified you or gave you hope. Because it means you were no better. Your resolve crumbled so easily. How could you, when it was him? 

“We have to go back to the set.” You whispered to him. 

“Let them wait.” He whispers back to you, his breath hot against you.

That’s how you ended up back in his trailer, under him just like you had been six months ago. You had all but abandoned everything outside the door. From your mic packs left on that corner wall a few meters away, to the costume clothes left on the fridges of the trailer door. 

Your lips echoed loud moaning ripples that could embarrass you had you cared enough for it at that moment. But you didn’t. All you cared about was the pleasure of being underneath him, being choked by his figure pressed against you as you squirm over and over again with the breath you didn’t have against his firm grasp. 

All you could do was wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to where the sweat and the drool mixed onto you over and over again. With every tug to pull him closer, you found yourself being pummeled with his member deeper over and over again — taking away the dry spell that had kept your resolve for the past six months.

You could feel him burn you inside, searing you whole with the sheer size of him, taking over every inch of your crevices as though it belonged there. As though all of you were made for all of him.

You couldn’t help but release another moan, feeling your insides close against him, as your inner thighs quivered against the side of his waist repeatedly. The force of his thrusts were so strong that you were sure the bed was going to break.

His fingerprints were being engraved against your thighs with the way he pushes against your flesh, keeping you intertwined in this vicious downfall with him. Toji couldn’t help but laugh as he pressed closer against your body, the build of his cock sliding through your tummy and he could feel it. He felt proud of it. No one knew how to make you feel this electrifying feeling of being alive the way he could. No one else. And you knew that too well. 

Calluses started to form on your reddening skin, pelted with golden sweat as he pulled in and out of you with the speed of a thunderstrike. One moment he’s into the point you could feel him down your throat choking and the next, it felt like you were freed from the vestiges of being full of everything heavy, only to feel so empty that you long for him to choke you whole with his cock. 

And he does. Repeatedly. Over and over again, until you are on the verge of tears you know you shed because of the pleasure you succumb to, to your shame. To your love, to your desires. To him. No, for him.

Because you knew, no one else can love you like this. No one else can make a mess of you like this. No one else can make you feel so whole and broken all at once that it breaks you into many pieces.

You found yourself clawing at his back, successive moans with your breaking tone sounding like music to his ears. He hums in acceptance of the pain, trying to keep his composure as your nails bring blood streaming down his back. You move slowly to bite his shoulder, deep and whole and raw. You find him grunting slowly at the pain of it. You dug so deep that you knew you also drew blood there too.

You find him accepting it knowing that this is your love. This is the love that you have for him. And it will never change anymore. You wanted to love him and love him to the point he hurts. You want him to hurt. You want him to cry. You want him to bleed. Because how dare he make love to you, knowing you didn’t want to be hurt by loving him?

“I hate you.” You cry to him, his blood metallic in your tongue. You cry again, in between your incoherent moans. “I hate you more than anything in the world.”

“I love you.” He whispers to you over and over again, digging deeper into you that he has carved a home in you. “I love you. More than anything. More than life itself.”

You cry at his words. Because you knew they were true. You knew that he does love you. And yet you don’t want to be with him. You don’t want to let him back in. But he is here, with you. He is you, in you. He was everything that encompasses you. He was your first love. He was your first everything. And you can’t take it back. You can’t unlove him, even for your own good. Not even if the heavens wanted you to.

Toji couldn’t help but snarl as he pushes deeper and deeper, his sound animalistic and raw. He was close. You know this too well, once he stops talking. He devotes himself to the task. He pushes through over and over, the beckoning of his thrusts growing more erratic as he nears his peak.

But you knew him too well. He never comes inside of you without making sure you get your fill first. His long fingers reach down to where you're joined, finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles that send jolts of electricity shooting up your spine.

“T–toji!” You cry out loud, arching deeper into his touch as the pleasure coiling on your belly echoing over and over. You could feel his fingers work you perfectly, expertly as he pushes through over and over as he pushes his masterful fingers and his thrusting hips. “I….I’m….I’m close!”

"That's it, baby. Come for me too." he coaxes, his voice a low rasp in your ear. "Let me feel this pretty pussy squeeze the cum out of me."

He only gets this way when he finds himself close, his words disappearing into the reality of pleasure with you. You push against him, throwing your head back against the pillows. You shatter with a keening moan, your walls clamping down around Toji’s shaft as ecstasy crashes over you in waves.

He follows moments later with a guttural groan, pumping you full of his hot seed. You were shaking as you cling to him tightly, mewling softly against his shoulder blades. You could feel his body heavier against you as you both rode out the aftershocks, still gasping and twitching with the intensity of your shared climax.

As the fog of passion clears, you slowly come back to yourself, awareness returning in increments. You purse your lips as he presses kisses against your neck and then your jaw and then your cheeks. The warmth of his seed seeping off you as your hands loosen their hold on his body.

“We can’t do this again.” You whisper to him exhaustedly.

“I know.” He whispers back to you, his eyes shot with the look of love. Or was it lust? You could not tell. “I know.”

But you knew you were both lying to yourselves. 

He was going to come back again and again.

And you would let him in, just as you had now.

══════════════════

YOU HAD SAID YOU DIDN’T WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN ANY PRESS TOURS. It had taken a while before you had even budged to the demands of the director. But you knew that you couldn’t admit that to be a resolve without the act. All Toji had to do was ask you, in his own way and you knew you would say yes. And you hated that it was the case. 

As the lights of the red carpet flickered around you, you smiled, the cameras flashing as you and Fushiguro Toji posed side by side. His presence, tall and imposing, was the perfect foil to your poised elegance, but inside, you felt something altogether different. It was truly a quiet storm of conflicting emotions that you could barely contain.

The interviewer, enthusiastic and bright-eyed, approached you both with a microphone. “You two are the talk of the town! After months of speculation, you’ve finally confirmed your relationship with that press announcement. How does it feel to have it all out in the open?”

You met the interviewer’s gaze, your smile steady, though you could feel the weight of the question pressing against your chest. You exchanged a brief glance with Toji, his expression unreadable. He gave a small nod, as if reassuring you to continue, but you knew the truth—there was nothing to reassure, nothing to calm.

“We’re happy to finally share our truth, really.” you said, your voice smooth, practiced, like you were reading from a script. "It's been an incredible journey, and we're excited for what's next, both in our professional and personal lives."

The interviewer’s smile widened, practically giddy with excitement. “It’s clear that you two are truly in love! Your chemistry on and off-screen is undeniable. Toji, how does it feel to have such an amazing partner by your side?”

Toji’s lips quivered into a half-smile, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “It feels like a new chapter, honestly. I’ve always admired her strength, her talent. She’s someone who challenges me, changes me, in ways I didn’t expect. I think that’s what makes it work.”

The words were kind, but you heard the undertone. You knew what it was. It was the unspoken acknowledgment of the past. The past you’d both tried to bury under layers of public appearances, press releases, and carefully crafted smiles. The past you had come to hate  with all your hatred.

What had started as something deeply painful had morphed into something else entirely, something you didn’t quite understand but couldn’t escape. This was a gilded cage that you had allowed him to trap you in.

One that you couldn’t escape. That’s why you were here, standing next to him, because you couldn’t tear yourself away. You couldn’t fly away. Even when you hated him. Even when you knew better.

You felt the interviewer’s eyes shift back to you, awaiting a response, her curiosity piqued. "And for you, how does it feel to have him by your side now, after everything you've been through?"

Your chest tightened. The words to explain your truth were there, just beneath the surface, but they never quite made it to your lips. You gave another practiced smile, masking the turmoil that churned inside you. 

"It’s complicated, yeah." you said carefully, choosing your words with precision. "We’ve both had our struggles, but that’s part of growth. That’s a lot of work, to make it all go smoothly. We’ve learned a lot from each other. And we’re both better for it."

The words hung in the air, a soft veil of politeness that couldn’t hide the undercurrent of something darker. The toxic bond, the cycle of love and hate, of pain and yearning. You hated that you were still here. You hated that you could never quite leave him, no matter how much you should. And yet, there was no escaping the pull. Not now. Not after everything.

The interviewer beamed, satisfied with your answer, but all you could do was nod politely, your gaze flickering to Toji again. The smile he gave you was the same one you had seen countless times before, the one that made your heart ache, the one that made you question everything about who you were, about who you were becoming.

You knew you should’ve been stronger. You knew you should’ve walked away a long time ago. But here you were, caught in the web you had spun and truly hated it. You hated him, but you still stayed. You knew, deep down, that this was your reality now. 

Your love for him would never be pure. It would never be something that anyone deserves to have. It was not worth living a life of destitution and desperation. And yet, it was what you had. It would never be easy, it would never be anything other than toxic.. It would always be tangled up in mistakes, in forgiveness, in betrayal, in passion.

And so you stayed.

Because even if he would hurt you, even if you would hurt him, this was the life you had chosen. You had crossed that line long ago, and now, there was no going back. There was no way to escape the chaotic love you shared. It would make you happy. It would make you miserable. It would always be the same, because it had always been this way, and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

For better or for worse.

For the horrid to the frigid.

You both were toxic till the end.

The moment you stepped inside the theater, the noise of the red carpet event faded into a dull hum, replaced by the quiet buzz of the room. The lights overhead gleamed off the polished surfaces, casting long shadows over the seats where the audience had yet to arrive. 

Fushiguro Toji walked beside you, his presence commanding and strong, but the usual ease between you felt heavier now, charged with a tension neither of you had addressed since the interview. Since you were now a couple in the public hemisphere. And he was too aware of it all. 

As you made your way toward the dressing room, you felt the weight of his blue–green gaze on you, sharp and searching, as if he was trying to decipher something in your posture, in the way you carried yourself. You ignored it, pretending to focus on the steps ahead, the noise of your heels clicking against the floor, the rhythm of your breath.

When you reached the door, you paused for a moment, the cold handle beneath your fingers reminding you of the distance that had always existed between you and Toji, even when you were close, even when you thought you understood each other. Even when you were now stuck in this disturbed romance.

The room was empty except for the faint scent of makeup and old costumes, a reminder of the countless times you’d shared similar spaces before everything had unraveled. Toji followed you inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His footsteps were quieter now, the usual swagger in his walk subdued, but his presence still loomed larger than life.

You didn’t turn to face him immediately, choosing instead to adjust your dress in front of the mirror. The reflection staring back at you seemed almost foreign—perfectly poised, with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. Not fully. And you didn’t know when that would ever happen again.

“You okay?” Toji’s voice was low, cautious, as though he wasn’t sure whether to press you or give you space.

You met his gaze in the mirror, seeing the uncertainty there. It made something inside you tighten, but you refused to show it. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” you said, though the words felt empty as they left your mouth. “It’s just... another night, another show.”

Toji stepped closer, his reflection merging with yours in the glass. “You don’t have to pretend, you know.” he said softly, his tone edging with a familiar vulnerability that made your chest tighten. “You don’t have to say everything’s fine when it’s not, babe.”

For a moment, you thought you might turn to him, reach out for him, let the rawness of it all spill over. But then you remembered the cameras, the words you’d both spoken on the carpet. The image you were meant to present. The lies you’d wrapped yourselves in, hoping no one would see the truth beneath.

“I’m not pretending.” you replied, a little too quickly. You broke your gaze with the mirror and turned to face him now, your eyes narrowing as if daring him to say something more. “What’s the point? Everyone’s watching, Toji. Everyone’s waiting to see if we’re going to fall apart, if we’re going to crack under the weight of it all. So why give them the satisfaction?”

Toji didn’t flinch at your sharp words. Instead, he took a step closer, his eyes softening, his voice quieter. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending too. Maybe I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

You shook your head, stepping back from him, though your heart thundered in your chest. “It’s too late for that. It’s too late for us, for anything real. We’ve already made our choices, Toji. This….whatever this is—this is just for show. This is what we have now. This is what we’re stuck with. And you know what the root cause was.”

For a brief moment, silence hung in the air, thick and oppressive, before Toji took a step forward, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist, stopping you from retreating further. His touch was steady, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes, something that you could feel without needing to see it.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you. I know I did, but I swear, I’m trying to fix it. I’m trying to fix us.”

You looked at his hand on your wrist, the heat of it seeping into your skin, and for a moment, you wondered if you could believe him. But then reality crashed back in, the weight of everything you’d been through. His betrayal, your own resentment, the lies you told yourselves about what you were.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again, Toji.” you whispered, your voice shaky, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be before. “I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

He watches as you halted, taking a moment to gather yourself. Before you looked at him again. “But god, we are just miserable with and without each other. Nothing changes. And yet here we are.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if pleading for you to see something, anything, in him that might make a difference. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can earn that trust back. If you’ll let me.”

The words hung in the air, suspended between you, as the unspoken tension between you both remained unresolved. There was a part of you that wanted to believe him, that wanted to give in, to fall into the comfort of what you once had. But there was another part of you, the part that had learned from the mistakes, the hurt, that knew better.

“I don’t know.” you said quietly, pulling your wrist free from his grasp. “But I’m not the person I was before, and neither are you. So maybe we just need to accept that.”

Toji’s eyes dropped for a moment, the weight of your words clearly sinking in. He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to change your mind. Instead, he nodded, as if acknowledging the truth you both shared, no matter how painful it was.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

But this time, there was no more fight left in you to give. 

The words hung between you both, unresolved. 

And for the first time, you wondered if you ever could let him go.

You wondered if you both would ever be free from each other.

Yet you knew that was wishful thinking, you knew that was a dream.

“You don’t have to worry.” You whispered back to him. “I’m not going anywhere….But you already knew that. Didn’t you?”

[aralezinspace]

Cuckoo you absolutely hit the nail on the head here. Adding my two cents which is mostly reiterating what you've already said with my own thoughts.

General disclaimer, I'm just a rando on the internet so take this all with a grain of salt and no I do not condone anything Neil has done and I hope he reaps every consequence he deserves.

It's definitely not like JKR. It's more like Stephen King. Everyone knows and acknowledges Stephen King is a fucked up person and has done bad things in his past, but damn if his books aren't good. He's also not using his money to actively campaign against minorities. Stephen King (and Mr. G) are flawed, fucked up humans like the rest of us, likely even more so. Now if you look at Stephen King as a person and decide not to engage with his works, awesome! You're allowed to do that, have fun storming the castle. If you decide to do the same with Mr. G, awesome, go nuts.

However, what seems more disturbing to me is the sort of parasocial relationship a lot of people have with him, and other celebrities too. Believe me, I understand the 'oh shit that could have easily been me' and feeling like this is a gross betrayal of trust. Believe me, I get that. However, for those of you/us who have never had personal contact with Mr. G (like me), or have never even been in the same room as him, some food for thought: why does this feel so personal?

I understand the hurt, the disappointment, the outrage, the massive ick feeling. Personally I thought he was better than this, and it's very disappointing to learn that he's not. But for those who feel personally betrayed, why? In the grand scheme of things, Neil doesn't owe you/us anything, leaving out the universal 'don't be a shit human.' He doesn't know that 99% of us exist, other than as icons on a screen, as numbers under a follower count. In the grand scheme of things, you burning his books isn't going to affect him, it's only going to affect you.

I guess what I"m saying is, don't be hasty. Let the strong feelings pass before making any emotionally charged decisions (not telling y'all what to do, just my two cents). But especially to those who get so much joy from his works, and feel like they now have to renounce everything he's done and that just doesn't feel right, take a minute before doing that. Think of who you're doing it for- your own conscience? The faceless mob on the internet? To spite Neil? Because if it's for the latter two reasons, I'm willing to bet the only person you'll be hurting or sticking it to is yourself.

Nothing in this world is 100% unproblematic, and letting the internet's ever shifting standards of what is 'okay' to enjoy dictate your life just sounds like a very miserable way to live. Letting the actions of celebrities who don't even know you exist dictate what you're allowed to enjoy also sounds like a very miserable way to live.

At the end of the day, I refuse to let the shitty decisions of one shitty man who doesn't even know I exist rule my life, and limit the things I derive joy from. I've been subjected to too many shitty decisions by too many shitty people that I actually know to have room for the shitty decisions of someone I don't know. There are so many ways to engage with his properties that don't give him money- engage in fandom, pirate stuff, borrow his stuff from your local library (we love supporting libraries!), buy unlicensed merch from Etsy, Redbubble, etc. Personally, I’m going to continue to write fic and watch the new season and engage with the fandom- there are too many stories I want to tell and too many awesome people I’ve met through fandom and to give all that up for one schmuck’s bad decision seems like a huge waste. Fan creators are not Mr. G, don't throw the fandom under the bus to spite the creator.

It is possible, and actually very achievable, to condemn the bad things he's done as a person, without setting a torch to everything good his works have done.

"Appropriate" responses to the Gaiman issue

TLDR: This isn't a Rowling situation, be wary of internalized purity culture.

He's a predator. I'm glad a proper journalist followed up where police have failed (and possibly given victims a better footing for future charges).

But I have a problem with the knee-jerk responses targeting the fandom.

Just to clarify, I'm not talking about insulting The Predator. This is about how you treat people who have/do/will enjoy the stories that unfortunately came into the world through his keyboard.

Fans aren't intrinsically evil/uncaring for continuing to participate in associated fandoms.

This is not another Rowling situation. Why? Let me clarify. The consequences of consumption are very different. Rowling is ACTIVELY using her popularity and income as a creative to target one of the most vulnerable minorities in the world. Buying official merch/books/movie tickets prove to the powers that be that she remains a good investment, so they'll give her even more money. This perpetuates the cycle - new movie/book deals, more income, more hate, rinse and repeat.

The push to avoid Rowling's work in full is driven by the fact that she has FACED NO CONSEQUENCES and is still powered by her creative properties. It's fandom/consumers trying to bring justice.

Gaiman, on the other hand, knew he was doing bad shit on some level because he kept his abuse hidden. His status and reputation let him get close to vulnerable fans and essentially intimidate authorities from going after a celebrity. He is FACING CONSEQUENCES. I would personally like to see criminal charges brought against him, but that's out of the fandom's hands. Things we could've influenced (his Disney deal appears to have gone to shit, he's been booted from the truncated final season of GO, and there's no news on Sandman 3) are already in motion. If his publisher doesn't drop him, I'd say avoiding his future works is beyond valid (I certainly wouldn't buy them). But I'm going to watch the new season of Sandman. And once I've taken time away, I'll probably finish my active fics.

"Judging" people who still enjoy his work stems from good intentions that grew out of the fetid ground of purity culture rhetoric.

Writing fanfic and enjoying shows that are already made do not make people soulless accomplices. The idea that unproblematic stories by saintly creators are the only things you're allowed to enjoy is not only flirting with censorship, but it's also impossible.

If you think people should have nothing to do with Gaiman's works, you better throw out anything Weinstein touched. That includes Jackson's LOTR trilogy, FYI. Also, anything his company officially produced (which still gives him money in some cases) should never, ever grace your screen. That includes some of the better Stephen King adaptations, The Orphanage (which was a breakthrough Spanish-language film in Western markets), The King's Speech, The Imitation Game, Woman in Gold, Paddington, and It Follows.

If you aren't willing to publicly announce your "disappointment" in anyone who continues to enjoy any of those films, then kicking up a fuss over how other people process and interact with problematic content from a fallen celebrity who is in the process of getting his dues is pure hypocrisy.

Personally, I'm maliciously complying with Gaiman's famous quote about how once a story is out there, it doesn't belong to the author anymore. Well said, Predator, these are mine now, and I shall fuck about with them as I see fit.

Attacking or snobbishly looking down your nose at the fandom also erases YEARS of beautiful critique and thoughtful exploration of existing, acknowledged problems in works like The Sandman.

People in these parts already know how to handle complex issues in complex pieces of media. Gaiman isn't our god. His canon is not our bible. He didn't teach us morality, as is apparently the case for a lot of people who grew up reading Rowling's works as a child.

If you have a problem with the censorship comment I made, I'd like to point out at least one writer friend is LEANING INTO the fandom as a way to process their own trauma. Suffice it to say they survived a very similar situation. They see it as empowering to take the stories away from the abuser and use the characters/settings to make something new.

I get the ick. I have it right now. But I'm not burning every copy of his work I own (full disclosure I have... *checks shelves* a copy of Neverwhere and The Sandman series). Doing so is totally valid, and if that helps you process and feel better - go for it!

But this is not the same as Rowling and the only ones you hurt by declaring your "judgement" is a complex group of individuals who are able to enjoy fiction, remain aware of potential social consequences, and found a place that doesn't align with your black/white morality.

With that said, judge away! I better not see any stories from Charles Dickens, anything in anyway associated with the Weinsteins, Nickelodeon shows, Charlie Chaplin references, or Francis Ford Coppola films touch your feed. If you scratch the surface, you'll find more things to judge others for enjoying, and they will inevitably find something to judge you for, too.

[rory-cakes]

In Case I Don't Live Forever

Dear My Darling Wife, 

While I am writing this, you are asleep in our bed. I don't care how many times you've told me you are disgusting in the morning. I think you always look radiant. But as the times have grown dark, I needed to know that my thoughts and words would be left to you if something ever happened.

First things first, I love you. So much is going on right now that I'm not sure when I last said this to you, but I need you to know that I love you. You are my entire universe. You are the air I breathe, the stars in the sky; you're the heart that beats in my chest. My love, I don't think you will ever understand how much I care for you and adore you. You will never come to know how much you have saved my life over and over again. From the very moment that we met on that train, you have accepted me with warmth and open arms. All of these years and everything that has happened, you have never once left me behind, you have never once turned your back on me, you have never once let my darkness dim your light—my Supernovae. I don’t know what I did to deserve such kindness and love in my life, but I will cherish it till my passing moments. 

Speaking of which, if you are receiving this letter, then I have unfortunately met my demise.  I am so sorry. I am so sorry to leave you after all we've been through together. I want you to know that it was never willing. If you are unfortunately there to witness my death, please do not let it haunt you like I let Regulus haunt me. I wish I were there to brush away your tears and hush your cries, so this will have to suffice for now. Along with this letter, you will receive three pencives of the happiest moments in my life. I hope they bring you some comfort. 

Sincerely Yours, 

Sirius Orian Potter 

P.S. On a less sappy note, I have named you heir to the house of black, so all the fortune is yours. Please don’t question how I did it. I just wanted my love to be set for life. 

Harry Potter watched as his aunt read the parchment from the doorway. Slowly, he sat down next to her and grieved the one who had loved them both so much. 

Masterlist

@unconventional-lawnchair Since I love you <3!!

Also I cried while writing this so I hope you appreciate it!!!!

[coffeegnomee]

Not to be dramatic but the being teammed with so many people individually who are not teammates themselves is emblematic of the change in mentality towards teams and team projects that started in the last months of season 4.

It's not universal to the entirety of season 4, as some teams, like 3ht survived the entire season being unified in their common goals.

But for players like Mapicc, Zam, and to some extent spoke too, the season was characterized by realizing and putting into practice your own personal goals and values, regardless of what the team was doing or wanted to do.

Which is interesting because they are part of this "problem" of the change in view towards teammates despite being The Lifestealers. And yet, for most of us, devotions just Are lifesteal and are seen as the golden standard. But it, interestingly enough, they are not immune. This is not so much a new member mentality as a new lifesteal mentality everyone is working through.

At the start of team awesome all three worked happily together, fulfilling each other's goals despite personal preferences. Because that's was a teammate does. They killed 3ht because mapicc wanted to despite Ro objecting (but he still helped kill them), they obsidianed spawn despite zam not being too happy that his builds were being destroyed (but he still helped because he was happy to be included and he didn't care that much), they protected the prison and made up reasons from thin air about how they were in the right for it, they duped and opposed APO.

Personal preference for not doing this or that plot didn't usually matter when it came to supporting the team's idea.

Hesitations were spoken and resolved with little dramatics, and any player the others wanted to kill were accepted wholesale by the team. There's a little moment I just watched where Spoke and Zam bed trap planet and Mapicc opposes bc it's Planet but then he realizes he doesn't care that much and if it was anyone else he'd be like hell yea.

Which is such a far cry from what we're seeing this season with like Kab going, if you threaten Clown too much Mane I will just betray you outright despite our teaming.

Whichever members you picked as your team were your top priority. They were the ones you choose to protect and be protected by. Past relationships, interior affections, were generally put to the side in favor of supporting the team.

Personal preference for not killing this or that member didn't usually matter when it came to supporting the team.

That all changed by the end of the season. Zam learned to stand up for his personal preferences of no exploits. Leaving team after team. To this day it's still seen as the battle of being true to himself and being true to the team and if you can do what the team wants without loosing yourself.

Mapicc betrayed Ro with his trap everyone in the end when he trapped Planetlord (omg I just realized how damn much Mapicc cares about Planet. They have never teamed but he will avoid killing Planet so much. this is like also a s5 comment. anyway)

Mapicc and Zam both opposed Spoke's ending and jumped into both portals without talking to the server.

And that has created the internal mentality of individualism on this server. It's so much less this team vs this team and so much more us against them but i love some of them so im not against them but you are but that's okay i just wont attack them you can attack them.

Each player collects their network of trust individually with other members.

Zam with Derap and Mapicc and Poafa, all separately bc heaven knows poafa STILL hasn't been added to the team

Mapicc with the Empire and Zam seperately

Derap with Zam and Wemmbu and Jaron and 4c to lesser extents SB and Pangi

Kab with Bacon and Hannah and Clown and now Mane and Pentar

Flame with Mane and Pangi and previously Wemmbu and Zam

Mane with Flame and whatever chungus he decides to work with for the month

Clown with Kab and Mane and Flame at one point.

Bacon with Planet and Kab and Hannah

4C and his unknown number of loyalties to people who are most certainly not teammed and FOCUS and derap

Wemmbu with Derap and Mane and Flame and Bacon and Kab and Hannah all at one point

And then there's roshambogames who historically, time and again, will simply drop everything for mapicc, teammed or not.

Nearly every active member is marked by loyalties to people who are not teammed with each other. And nearly all of them will be actually upset if one of their loyalties goes against their other loyalties.

Which often leads to inaction because one person cares about a member on the opposing side so they will just stand to the side and let others take care of the situation.

And partially that's because what happened in season 5 was too much.

In season 5 the growing individualism pulled off a plot that was so shocking it drew both sides to the extremes and made everyone traumatized towards the classic teaming mindset.

Creating a mid season teammate switchup with inviting Jumper to the Abyss and inviting Pentar into a closer friendship with Gucci in doing the Abyss too, should have resulted in team unity where past relations were left to the side in favor of this new team, this unified goal.

And it was that utopia. The Void Ponies were one of the most wholesome and joyful teams (despite zam's grumpiness at times). Jumper and Pentar were instrumental in the whimsy and everyone participated as best they could to the common goal of voiding the world.

But it was all a lie for Jumper, holding her original loyalty to Minute (and 4c and Vitalasy) over this new loyalty.

And Pentar's loyalty to Jumper, their friendship before joining this scary new world, lead him to leave all bonds of friendship with the void ponies in that hole.

Both of them held teammates with people not on the same team. And in the end they chose one side over another.

Zam nearly vowed to himself to never get involved in a team project he didn't 100% love and has had trust issues to this day.

Mapicc also is jittery towards being betrayed, approaching zam all season like a wild horse who needs to willingly choose him and not imposing his own will on zam, it's been a big season of respecting how zam thinks and acts which is a whole separate post. and which is constantly evolving with whatever will happen with mawn. But Mapicc trusts precious few people and doesn't extend loyalty unless he's certain it will be reciprocated which is why we're in the situation where he refuses to team with atlas and only will team with zam despite both of them knowing he will probably kill derap more. But they don't want to Not be teamed so they accept this world where they're on two teams.

People are willing to be open with their loyalties and are cautious against delving too deeply into one team or another.

Teammate politics have become more and more and more complicated as the seasons progress. Whether that's simply because there's more access to the chaos with so many more streams, or the fading of the worst parts of the past in favor of the story that unfolded as seen through videos. Or wether that's simply the growth in old players as they're marked by every arc combined with the growth in new members as they learn to navigate in this historic world for themselves.

It's a slow story. One that gathers a hundred small interactions up only to release them with a trebuchet into one server-defining moment.

It is truly uncharted territory what all these disparate loyalties will lead to. And it's making season 6 so unique.

[eclipseberrycake]

Virulent (MBC x Reader)

AN: Hey Guyysss-

It's me :) Have I annoyed you all yet? /lh Anyway, I was on tiktok as I always am these days when people annoy me (Ginger mains- when I catch you ginger mains-) I noticed a lot of redesigns of the mains twisted forms to turn them lethal and yk what? Hell yeah. So I've been brain rotting and decided to share with you!

This is kind of far off from what I normally post but I still wanted to share with you, plus it's still MBC! And Distractor! Reader. Think of it as an AU! Of that universe.

Warnings: Depictions of horror themes, talk of mutated twisteds, threats of death (No one dies dw, I'm too soft for that), if you don't vibe with zombie apocalypse vibes, then this one may not be for you, and that's okay! Also kinda shorter than normal because I'm tried and had an assignment due that I forgot about :(.

☁ With all the mains back, runs had surprisingly gotten easier, if you did say so yourself. It was much easier to distract when you knew where the twisteds were and who they were the second you stepped out of the elevator. And having Shelly running around giving boosts made the time spent distracting cut shorter and shorter. Plus having Pebble right there as well was always a bonus.

☁ And of course, your sweet moonshine and berry boy. It was always a pleasure to be with them on runs and have them shadow you as you went; It was like a safety net in a way, moreso when Cosmo came along. It was very rare there was a run going on where one of you was going, and the others did not follow.

☁ That being said, there were times you missed the simpler runs with just you, Poppy and Boxten and maybe a few other commons. The mains all had their inside jokes and experiences together that, regardless of how hard Sprout and Astro tried not to, sometimes left you and Cosmo feeling like the odd ones looking in.

☁ Which is where you were currently, joking and laughing with the other commons as you all tried to go for a long run. It had started early this morning, and while you were unsure how long you were down there, you were sure it was well past lunch. The others knew you'd be gone a while though and planned their days accordingly.

☁ You hadn't even realized the true extent of how far you'd gone until Dandy was popping up, eyes frantic despite you all buying regularly. He eyeballed you as you approached, making you hesitate when reaching for the band on a pillow. "...Is there something wrong?"

☁ "Floor 50. I'm not even down here very long." He spoke and your blood chilled at the tone, Cosmo quickly threading his fingers with your own. Dandy noted this before refocusing back on you, eyes sharp and calculating. "Do you know what you're stepping into?"

☁ "I assume it's no different than any other floor." You sneer back, quickly exchanging your tapes for a bandage, watching carefully as Cosmo did the same.

☁ Dandy took them almost robotically, lips twitching just a bit. "...You've never been this far, have you?" You haven't, you didn't even think there were this many floors, but you weren't going to tell him that. Whether he saw it on your face or not, he grinned. "I'll leave the elevator open. As a one time grace for you all to return at any time." He yanked on the lever suddenly, giving a bright wave. "Good luck! You're gonna need it!"

☁ The warning, from Dandy nonetheless, does little to ease your nerves, but you still step out of the elevator with a kiss for Cosmo before taking off. It was a replica of the Christmas Toon's floor, so the twisted's should've been easy to find. Only...you didn't find anything.

☁ You immediately called out to be aware of objects on the ground, because as much as you loved Blu and Oakley, you didn't want a repeat.

☁ Still, the air felt...different then it did in that time. Like something sinister was watching, waiting, hunting. Taking off once more, you quickly rush to find Cosmo, finding him working on a machine. Seeing him find brings a sense of relief to you, but it's not enough to erase the feeling.

☁ "I don't like it." You frown, looking over your shoulder as you heard the rapid swish of air moving. There was nothing there.

☁ "I get what you mean. Leaving the elevator open?" Cosmo raises a brow ridge, pausing the extracting he was doing. "It's just not-" He turns to face you, only to pause, mouth gaping open as he grows impressively pale incredibly quick. He's staring behind you, watching as something moves. You go to look, but he's quick to stop you.

☁ "Something's wrong." He whispers, much quieter, struggling to draw his eyes away from whatever he was seeing. "I don't want you near...that."

☁ "Near what?" You try to turn around again and he grabs your chin this time. "Y/N, please." He pleads. "We just need to back away and-"

☁ There's a shrill shriek and this time he can't stop you as you whirl around to see Tisha with the same expression Cosmo had on his face. Behind you is a tall twisted, taller than any you've seen, other than Dandy. It's one red eye is glowing at you, locked on as it hands from the ceiling. Two of it's arms hang by it's head, lifeless and stained with ichor, though the large claws don't look any less deadly. A drop of ichor hangs out of its mouth before splatting on the ground, making your stare it, horrified. It moves like a bug, slowly as it's multiple limbs each click against the ceiling.

☁ None of you can move, you can only watch as it grows closer. There's a swish of fabric as it reorientates itself to stand upright, the two limbs that were previously lifeless lifting, as if to caress you. You don't let it, stepping back in time as Cosmo pulls you back into him.

☁ It's close enough you could see it's face though. Half of it's face is stretched unnaturally, tinged a soft blue, but darkens as it twists up in recognition of your act of denial. There's a large white star on the other half, which begins to whirr wildly, spinning and spinning and spinning.

☁ For a fleeting second, your traitorous brain turns to Astro and his twisted and the similarities between that and this...thing.

☁ The star on it's face suddenly shoots out and you tackle Cosmo to the ground as Tisha takes off to warn the others to get to elevator. There's a crash as the machine Cosmo was working on is shattered, ichor spilling out over both of you as glass rains all over the floor. Whatever is in front of you screeches and two arms reach for you.

☁ You're quick to grab Cosmo, hauling him up and taking him with you as you both take off towards the elevator. There's two sets of footsteps behind you, but with a quick glance, you see it's only the one twisted, but with four running limbs being used rather than the regular two. It's catching up fast, too fast, and for a second you swear it's going to grab you, but a hand around your waist makes you're entire system shudder before you and Cosmo are both being yanked into the elevator, which shuts much faster than usual.

☁ Everyone in the elevator is silent before Tisha is letting out a blood curdling scream, grabbing at the edges of her box. "What was THAT?!"

☁ "I don't know!" Goob cries out, big eyes already welling with tears as he pulls at his fur. Scraps is trying to help him best she can, but even she's pale and struggling to control her shaking.

☁ You couldn't outrun it. You couldn't outrun it. YOU COULD NOT OUTRUN IT. As a distractor, that's one of your only roles, and you couldn't do it. Scrambling, you shakily get to your knees, crawling to where Cosmo is slowly sitting up. His eyes are darting everywhere before landing on you, meeting you halfway and cradling you to his chest.

☁ You clutch onto his sweater with white knuckles, shaking so badly you fear tearing the fabric. The way he holds onto you is much the same however, so you don't think he minds too much.

☁ "Maybe...Maybe next time we..." You struggle to find words, throat closing as you fight more tears. Your tail gives a whip behind you before curling around Cosmo, lacing itself between the center of his curl for a better hold.

☁ "We don't." Glisten shudders, smoothing out his bow before rubbing the space between his brows. "We can't- I don't even think the mains would know how to handle that."

☁ "It kinda looked like Astro." Rodger mentions, fingers tracing a crack in his glass before retracting. "Do you think it's possible the Ichor is mutating?"

☁ "Mutating?" You shake your head. "That- That can't be. That's-" You pause before growing suddenly angry. "That's not fair!" You're suddenly seething at the aspect of it all. A new terrain to learn, new twisteds, new methods of containing them; a whole new set of injuries...Of scars. "I can't. I can't do it! I can't!" You cry out, turning to hide your tears in Cosmo's sweater as he numbly rubs your back.

☁ The elevator gives a cheerful ding, a direct contrast to everyone else's mood in the elevator. It opens to the vibrant and cheerful colors of the lobby and you hear the footsteps of the others rapidly approaching, but to you, you're just reminded of-

☁ "Cosmo! Y/N!" Your attention is quickly redirected to where Sprout and Astro are eagerly approaching, the former wrapping you both in a tight hug that the remaining partner is quick to join.

☁ It's a comforting presence and it makes your heart steady itself before fingers are picking at your fur. "Did something happen? You're both covered in ichor." Astro frets, immediately making that ill feeling return to your guts. You debate not telling them before immediately erasing the thought. They needed to know they had too. If anyone could at least begin to get a handle on how to survive...whatever that was.

☁ "There's something about floor 50."

[rafyki]

Okay, theory time for The boy next world. Because I was thinking that Cir never explicitly said that he's from a parallel universe. He simply asks Phu if he believes in parallel universes, and then Phu says this

And the only thing Cir says is that they're a couple in another universe. he never says that he's from the other universe (unless I'm forgetting something??)

(under read more 'cause it go long lmao)

Also, during the dream sequence in episode 3, Cir is looking at the other universe's Cir&Phu from the outside, he's not a part of it and he's confused by what he's seeing

And after this, he's in a white room that looks suspiciously similar to those in a psychiatric ward

So my guess is that Cir isn't actually from another universe, he's the Cir from this universe but somehow got to experience the other universe where he and Phu are together. and he saw the promise his self from the other universe made to Phu - that he wouldn't leave him. so he knows so much about Phu because he saw him in the other universe, even though he's not part of it

This would explain why he's not in any hurry to get back to "his" universe and why he's not worried about cheating on Phu from the other universe. I mean - if I was suddenly thrown in another universe, my first priority would be get back to mine, especially if I have someone who I love so much there; and even if the other universe's Phu was gone/dead, Cir should still be thinking about him, shouldn't he? He should be worried that he's losing all the memories he made with his actual boyfriend.

That is, unless he's not actually from the other universe and he's just trying to build in this universe what his and Phu's other versions have in the other.

Also, in the first ep he says this, about believing in parallel worlds

at first I thought it was because the car crash made him switch worlds, but then in ep 3 we see that he knows about Phu even before that, while fighting against those guys

so I'm guessing that even if he saw so much about the other universe he didn't believe it at first (in fact we see him being extremely confused by it all in the dream sequence in ep 3), but something must have happened that day that made him believe it

Also, that day after he fought with those guys, he sees Phu running in the rain, but he doesn't run after him (which is in complete contrast by how he starts acting after that. at first i thought he still didn't know him in that moment but that's not it). so it must be something he dreams while being unconscious that makes him not only believe in the other world but also wanting to pursue Phu in this universe

And i think this also explains why Jin doesn't think it's a good idea that Phu wants to send Cir back to the other universe (he knows everything after all)

[windvexer]

It seems the ask didn’t stick. My question for you was basically just, what are your thoughts on someone binding themselves, and if you were to do it, how would you go about it? 🐓

Ah, yes!

There are a ton of problems with this and IMO nobody should do it unless they really, really know what they're doing, and they are prepared to deal with Part 2, What Happens When The Binding Stops.

Because, as it turns out!

That shit never went away. It got bottled up.

I'm not claiming to know how things work universally but in my personal experience, binding things about yourself - like, thoughts or physical pain - doesn't delete them.

It stores them up so you can avoid dealing with them in the moment, and send them to a dark place where they fester until the very second the binding fades or is no longer sustainable, and then you get to experience the full ramifications of covering up your problems while they have been growing the entire time.

🙃

But what about binding yourself to force yourself to do something, such as sticking to a routine?

Well as it turns out if it was easy you could just do it; no spell needed. So is there an underlying reason why that can't happen, an underlying reason which can't be spelled away?

Because it doesn't matter how much you bind yourself to remember shit. If you have untreated ADHD, you're not going to remember things. And your sorcery can't replace taking medication, as cool as that would be.

For ages I tried to use energy shielding to prevent autistic meltdowns! Surely it must be the dark energies assailing my empathic mind! Lol.

The real spell was noise cancelling earbuds all along.

All that being said, can this technique effectively be used by people who utilize a lot of foresight and understand they will have to clean up the mess once the binding is done? Yes!

When I was on this vacation we did a lot of hikes, and I bound my chronic pain. I went on the hikes, and yes once the binding was done I suffered greatly as my body was damaged and the pain redoubled (retripled, etc). But it's a risk-reward thing! I chose to be able to hike and to deliver the consequences of my actions to future me.

So people can do this, but it's a tool that should be (IMO) worked with as a temporary measure in order to help rebalance and readjust what you have. But even if you bind it, you're not putting it down. It's still in you, it's still a part of you.

And then if you do something silly, like binding yourself to a technically accomplishable but completely unsustainable routine, and you successfully cast the spell, you are going to burn yourself right in to ash all the way until the exact moment the binding implodes, leaving you with nothing left but the cold ashes of your spent vitality and the disaster zone the imploding spell just created in your life.

As you can see, I clearly have bias in this area.

If you want magic to change yourself or modify your routines, I recommend manifestation and healing magic; draw goals towards you, while simultaneously healing and tending to things about yourself which prevent you from reaching those goals.

Magic of self-change should, I believe, be borne out of gentleness, love, and with a constant focus on health and growth.

Binding is truly the antithesis of growth. You can't grow into being a healthier person by binding parts of yourself to be left behind. That is not how it works, in my opinion. Nothing ever gets left behind.

[hauntedhokage]

A little Oliver something from @silverrings-n-prettythings prompt list.

Taking your chin in between their fingers, wordlessly asking permission + “What if I told you I don’t want to leave yet?”

It's something that had been on his to-do list since the breakup. The little makeup bag sitting on his counter, filled with things that weren't his to hang onto anymore. You'd already come back for your things, but clearly had missed the bag sitting on the counter - and he hopes it's not because it was something he had given you.

"Just think you should have some stuff at my place" had been his reasoning, terrified to ask you to do something so serious. That hadn't ever been him, too happy to love 'em and leave 'em to prevent broken hearts. Being a "one woman guy" hadn't been for him - not until you, and that turned out less than wonderful. He'd never been in a relationship before, your university schedule conflicting with his soccer schedule making your relationship much more stressful than either of you had wanted it to be.

Breaking up was the healthy thing to do. Towards the end, the only time you weren't bickering was when you were having sex, growing insecurities on both sides rearing their ugly heads and putting additional pressure on the already fragile relationship. Breaking up was the right thing to do; but as he stares at the little black bag on his counter, Oliver can't help but wonder if he should've fought for you.

But he's gotta return it, there were things in there that you should have. He's sure the toothbrush and makeup had already been replaced but those earrings he knew you loved. They'd been a gift from your best friend, something that didn't belong in his bathroom. Maybe he was hoping that you'd come back for them, come back to him and give him the opportunity to talk things out. Subconscious wishful thinking keeping the bag on his counter for weeks.

He has to return it, get the item off the to-do list and hopefully force the closure that he needed on this chapter of his life. Maybe he'd try dating again when he was retired, without a schedule causing undue stress on his partner, when he had the time to dedicate to them like they deserved.

His knock on your door is gentle, a shaky hand connected to a man who wasn't ready to face his ex. He didn't know what to say, or if you'd even let him talk to you, and that scared him more than he ever thought it would. He was a big bad defender, Japan's U-20 defender, and here he was nervously fiddling with a little makeup bag as your front door finally opens.

"Oliver?"

"Yeah, hey." He's relieved when you open the door wider, only to feel his mouth dry when you lean in the doorway and he sees what you're wearing. His jersey, maybe shorts underneath but they would've been too short for him to see. You kept the jersey he gave you - didn't throw it away or donate it - and you still wore it. His name on your back, Japan's flag on your shoulder and you looked so fucking beautiful in it.

"Are you gonna say something?" You sound uncertain, maybe as nervous as he was to stand in front of you like this. But he supposed that was normal, he did show up unannounced.

"Sorry to just pop up. You, uh, you left this at my place and I wanted to give it back to you." The bag is waved a bit, the contents can be heard shuffling inside and he's praying your earrings are undamaged after that. "Those earrings were in it."

"You bought the bag, I didn't-"

"It was always a gift, always yours." Your eyes widen as you nod, taking the bag when he held it out to you. "You look good in my number."

"You always said that."

"And I meant it every time."

You bite your lip, something that you did whenever he'd flattered you. Cute and bashful, horrible at taking compliments, but he loved that about you. Loved getting your cheeks all warm and that little pout when he teased you for it, it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside in a way that nobody had ever made him feel. Fuck, did he miss you. Necessary breakup or not, he wanted you to be his again.

"You probably have practice, right? You should maybe get going."

"What if I told you I didn't want to leave yet?" He tries to sound as un-intimidating as possible, being mindful of how it may feel to have an ex-boyfriend show up unannounced. This was your space, your rules, but he can't stop his hand from moving.

Your chin fit so perfectly between his thumb and index finger; your body doesn't recoil from his touch, he swore you'd leaned in closer. He can't bring himself to ask the question, but he knows that you know what he's looking for when you nod ever so slightly and lean up into him. The invitation, the indicator that you'd missed him just as much as he'd missed you.

He'd be late to practice, and he'd be taking that overnight bag home with him, too. So much for that to-do list.

[hungermakesmonsters]

✨✨Congrats on 500 followers!!! ✨✨

I know you only just finished red ribbon but my request is that I would love to know if bunny goes back to working for Billy and if she does is he be able to keep his hands to himself or would he cause problems?? 😂

😅😅😅OF COURSE BILLY WOULD CAUSE PROBLEMS AND NOT KEEP HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF!! no but seriously, I actually really wanted to put a scene like this in The Red Ribbon because (as far as I've planned for a second series) she does go back to work for Billy. So, I really enjoyed writing this silly little thing, I hope you enjoy reading it!!

Better At You

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Fic Universe : The Red Ribbon

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour.  

He sat hunched over his desk, elbows braced on the wooden surface, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. You’d heard more than enough through the door to know that his meeting with his business partner Frank had not gone well. So, once Frank had made his exit, you had decided to go check on Billy.

“Are you okay?” You asked as you rounded his desk and perched on the edge of it beside him.

“Fine,” he grumbled, not even bothering to look up at you.

For a few seconds you hesitated, carefully considering your next move. You’d both agreed that work needed to be separate, that you needed to remain professional but, after two weeks, you were already starting to struggle.

“No you’re not,” you said, finally reaching a decision. “You barely slept last night, you skipped breakfast, and all you’ve had since getting to the office is a coffee.”

As you spoke, you dared to place a hand on his shoulder, feeling the uncomfortable tension that filled his body.

“You’re supposed to be my PA, not my mother,” he snapped, pulling away from your hand.

It was the first time he’d snapped at you in weeks, the first time since you’d started your relationship. And, for a moment you were frozen, shocked by his little outburst. Then you shook your head and stood - he’d agreed that he wouldn’t snap anymore, that he’d never take his shitty mood out on you at work.

A second later, he realised what he’d done and, before you could walk away, his hand was on your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

“Bunny, I’m - I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “You’re right, I didn’t sleep and I feel like shit, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“You promised me that -”

“I know. I know I did,” he sighed. “I’m trying, it’s just... Frank says we’re gonna have to get the Feds and maybe Homeland involved to find out just how deep this thing with Rawlin’s goes, and -”

“That’s no reason to snap at me.”

“I know. Fuck - I know. I’m sorry, Bunny.”

You knew that he meant it, that he really was sorry, and that was enough. At least, for now. 

Stepping closer, you reached for him, your hand cupping his cheek tenderly. Despite your agreements to keep things professional, you couldn’t help but want to comfort him. He finally relaxed a little at your touch, and that made you feel a little better.

“I don’t suppose I could talk you into cancelling the rest of your meetings, leaving early and going home to get some sleep?” You asked, your voice turning low, worried that someone might overhear you even though you knew there was no one else on the floor.

“Depends, are you offering to come home with me?” He asked just as softly.

“I have all that paperwork to finish filing, remember? Besides, if I go home with you, the last thing you’re gonna do is sleep.”

His hand on your wrist gave a gentle tug, pulling you closer, until you were standing between his legs. Then both of his hands found their way to your hips.

“We agreed we weren’t going to do this at the office,” you said, reminding him of your agreement while simultaneously completely ignoring it by letting your fingers slip into his hair.

Billy’s eyes closed and he let out a sigh, leaning into your touch.

As much as you believed it was a bad idea to let your personal lives and feelings bleed into work, seeing him like that, finally able to relax a little, left you with no doubt in your mind; he needed you.

He pulled you closer and, before you could stop to think about it, you were kissing him. A switch flipped inside you when he let out that first little groan against your lips, and it stopped being about what you shouldn’t do and became more about what he obviously needed

When the kiss broke, you slowly dropped to your knees in front of him, all the while holding his gaze.

“Bunny...” there was a warning in his tone, but something else too. Pleading.

“We’ll be quick,” you told him as you tugged open his belt and started on the fastenings of his pants. “Besides, your next meeting isn’t for twenty minutes.”

Whatever Billy wanted to say died on his lips the moment you reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. You watched as he licked his lips and sank back in his chair, putting himself completely in your hands, both literally and figuratively. 

You started slowly, stroking his cock and watching as it got harder, revelling in the way that Billy’s breath caught. You’d never known a man so needy, a man who craved your every touch as if he’d never been touched before. Honestly, you weren’t sure if it was you or if Billy had always been that way, but you liked to think it was all for you.

His cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, the tip quickly starting to leak. And the sounds - god, the sounds spilling from him made you feel like the most powerful person in the world.

“Fuck,” he groaned at the feeling of your lips wrapping around him.

You almost smiled as you sank lower, taking more of him into your mouth, keeping your fist wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking what you couldn’t take.

You started slowly, toying with him, dragging your lips up and down his shaft, tracing patterns on his skin with your tongue until you felt his fingers tangling in your hair.

“Bunny,” he muttered, voice little more than a low growl.

Despite his grip on you, Billy knew better than to apply pressure. As desperate as he might have felt, he knew that you were in complete control, and he knew just how much that control meant to you.

Glancing up, you met his gaze and still for a moment, the tip of his cock in your mouth while your hand continued to stroke him.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he groaned. “So fucking beautiful, Bunny,”

More little affirmations started to fall from him as your lips started to move again, this time bobbing your head faster and with more purpose, knowing that you’d finally gotten him to relax. 

And that felt good. No, it felt amazing.

You’d realised pretty quicking that it was what Billy needed in his life, it was what you wanted to give him. He saw you as a person, cared about you and cherished your time together, and you - you wanted to give him the happiness and stability that he craved. Maybe eventually there would be more, maybe in time the feeling in the pit of your stomach would even  become love. But, for now, this was enough.

“Bunny,” he gasped, his fingers tightening in your hair - not a lot, but enough to let you know he was getting close.

You didn’t stop. Instead you doubled down, working your lips faster on his cock, gripping him a little tighter with your hand. 

Again you looked up at him, catching the look of sheer pleasure and desperation on his face.

“Bun -” 

He grunted as he started to come undone in your mouth, and you held him there, still stroking him until he was completely spent.

When you finally pulled back and looked up at him, you couldn’t help but grin; his eyes were closed and tension and worry had left his face. If you didn’t know him better, you might have said it looked like he’d just been through a life-changing experience. 

His fingers slipped from your hair and back to your cheek again as he finally opened his eyes and looked at you.

“So much for not doing that at the office,” he said playfully, tucking himself back into his pants.

“It was an emergency,” you shrugged. “I couldn’t have you turning into a cranky asshole and taking it out on everyone.”

“Oh, so that was a public service blowjob?” Billy asked, grinning like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Exactly. In fact, you could even say I’m a superhero.”

“That’s quite a superpower you’ve got - though, I don’t think they’ll be asking you to join the Avengers anytime soon.”

“Their loss, I’m actually also really good at -”

The sound of someone clearing their throat had Billy glancing towards his office door, his eyes going wide. You couldn’t see who it was until you scrambled off your knees and stood again, quickly brushing your skirt down.

Frank Castle, Billy’s business partner, had come back.

Your cheeks warmed quickly, leaving you feeling like you were about to spontaneously combust.

“I, uh -” you tried to think, tried to come up with something to say, “- I’ll see if I can find something to stop your chair from squeaking, Mr Russo.”

And, with that, you quickly rushed out of the office, trying very hard not to make eye contact with either man on your way out.

[starlighttsv]

Best of both worlds - Paige’s daughter

💌 Syn: Paige is on “the best of both worlds” podcast during her world tour

»»— warnings: none :)

»»— notes: 🗑️😃 but only 1 more fic before i’m done trying to edit these cringy stories 🤗

»»— word count: 1k

»»— pair: paige x daughter!oc || lilah bueckers

Todays the day of filming Flaujae's podcast "the best of both worlds" hosted in Atlanta currently because of overtime Queen of the Court. Lilah is also with Paige but the time of filming the podcast, is a few minutes after her nap time starts and she can never skip naps or she'll be a very grumpy sassy 1 year old. So she's gonna sleep in the room next door and Paige & Flaujae are gonna leave the filming room door cracked so Paige can hear if she wakes up or anything.

"Alright guys now moving on, today's special guest is.....Paige Bueckers!" Flaujae introduces "hey everyone! Thank you for having me." Paige replies

"So I have some questions for you" flaujae starts, making Paige nod and say go ahead.

"What is your favorite basketball highlight of yours?"

"Ooo wait...oh I'm gonna go with when I was shooting the ball and it bounced off the rim, and then straight down in the bucket. I love that highlight"

"I saw that one! That was so dope!"

"Alright, what's your favorite basketball picture of you?"

"The one where I'm looking at the fans screaming after a basket, and there all screaming back at me. I need to get that framed!"

"Y'all heard her, get that picture framed for her" Flau says making her and Paige laugh a little and joke around for a few. "Alright who has more rizz?" Flaujae jokes "oh cmon, I'm the greatest rizzler of all time" Paige laughs making Flau also start to laugh "Alright I'll give you that. People say I'm a flirty person until I'm talking to someone I like" "your just shy or?" Paige cuts in "no it's more of just like I don't want to push it to much." Flaujae adds "oh I get that, I get that"

"You need to give me some tips." Flaujae jokingly says "alright-" Paige starts "off camera, off camera" Flaujae cuts in making Paige agree "Alright alright, a little more serious questions" Flaujae starts "you have a daughter" she adds making Paige nod "what's your favorite thing about her?"

"Ooo uhh, I honestly don't know. Uhh her love for adventure maybe? She loves going to new places, seeing new people, seeing animals she's never seen before. She loves even going on like "road-trips" to the store or gas station." Paige answered "Shes been with you for your whole "world tour" so far, right?" Flau questions "yeah.“

"What was your favorite thing to do with her on your world tour? And what was her favorite thing to do, if you know?"

"My favorite was umm oh our LA trip, we did a lot there. We went to Disneyland, Universal, a few museums, few beach trips, an aquarium vist, plus some more. Lilah's favorite was probably-" Paige stops talking as she hears Lilah walking through the hallway and calling out for her

"Mama" Lilah says, obviously looking for Paige. P takes a quick glance at Flaujae asking if she can bring Lilah in here, making Flaujae do a quick nod giving Paige her approval. "In here baby" P calls out, hearing Lilah start walking towards the filming room.

When she enters and sees Paige, she starts waddling towards P a little faster "good morning babe, how was your nap?" Paige asks, going on deaf ears as Lilah just walks closer to Paige and puts her hands on P’s thighs, a sign that she wants picked up. So Paige leans down and picks her up putting her on her thigh and Lilah immediately cuddles closer to Paige.

"I 100% have baby fever now. She's so cute omg" Flaujae says making Paige let out a chuckle "thank you" Paige says "well she's in here now so maybe she can answer your question. Lil what was your favorite thing we did so far this summer?"

She just cuddles into Paige more "cmon Lilah, I know you have favorites" P tries to convince her "ball and Disney" Lilah mumbles "she said ball and Disney, which translates to all star and Disneyland"P chuckles while rubbing Lilahs back, either to help her go back to sleep or to wake her up. Paige doesn’t really know the answer yet and she doesn’t think Lilah knows yet either

"I was gonna ask her favorite part of all star but looking at her, I don't think she wants to answer" Flaujae softly says, seeing that Lilah is trying not to fall asleep in Paige's arms right now  "she never really wants to talk after waking up, she just wants cuddles and silence to decide if she's awake for the day or not - but she said she loved meeting all the new people and seeing people she already knew again - especially loved seeing Diana, Sue, Breanna, Megan, Angel and Caitlyn, when I asked her." Flaujae nods and says  "so we can count on her to go to UConn" "I mean maybe? But I'm not gonna force her to follow my footsteps." Paige shrugs making Flau nod again "alright I'll move the subject away from your daughter, I got carried away. That's my bad"

Paige laughs a little, "Your good. I love talking about her any chance I get." Flaujae smiles at that and says "you seem like an amazing mom"

"Thank you. I try my best for her." Flaujae nods and then looks at her cards and says "alright we're gonna play a game. I'm gonna name a few of your teammates past and present, and I want you to give me one word that describes them." Paige nods still rubbing Lilahs back, and Lilahs just playing with Paige's chain now, deciding she wasn’t tired anymore.

"Kk Arnold" "goofy"

"Azzi Fudd" "consistent"

"Nika Mühl" "I have so many words to describe her....menace"

"Aaliyah Edwards" "dog"

"And last but not least, Ice Brady" "she icy"

Lilah stayed on Paige’s lap for the rest of filming, still just playing with P’s chain - and once filming was wrapped Paige took lilah to get some food before going back to the practice facility and go over plays with “team paige”

@melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03

[wolvndmouth]

okay so who’s gonna write the fic where logan and wade have been together for forever but shit really hits the fan in their universe (they are still fighting against paradox and other baddies along the way) and the two of them find themselves backed into a corner when it comes to not only saving their universe from being pruned again, but to save logan and cure his adamantium poisoning/slowing healing factor

and just when things couldn’t get worse, cable comes back from the future to save wade from the pruning, but he sees wade with logan and is shocked he’s moved on so he’s feeling a whole lotta “wtf he’s mine i still love you lets try this again”

cue logan reminding nathan that he made a choice to leave wade. things got too serious for nate, and he just can’t show up out of nowhere expecting wade to drop everything just for him now that he’s ready to try for real this time

cue nathan reminding logan that not only did he date his dad, but he has sabotaged almost every good relationship in his life. nate thinks its just a matter of time until logan does it again and that he doesn’t want wade to be “just another name lost in the centuries”

then cue wade feeling like shit because he never forgave nathan for leaving and both him and logan don’t have a lot of time to deal with this plus having to find a cure/save the universe

AND THEN cue complicated feelings for all 3 of them while they try to figure this shit out because logan is starting to understand why wade loved nathan and nathan is starting to understand why wade loves logan and wade is starting to catch feelings for nathan again but doesn’t want to put logan through a throuple situation after knowing how the first time went. wade is also still not over nate abandoning him and there isn’t much nate can do to regain trust again

AND THEN AND THEN there’s a big reveal where you find out that wade’s healing factor has begun to slow down as well, and his cancer has started to come back little by little. logan is convinced that in being together for as long as they have, it’s his adamantium that’s making wade sick and he’s thinking about making wade leave their universe with nate so he’d at least have a fighting chance. he doesn’t want to tell wade the real reason why he wants him to go, because he doesn’t want wade to feel sad/less likely to go/guilty about logan dying without him, so he’s starting to act different and is on the verge of wanting to purposefully push wade away to make it easier for the both of them

nate also thinks that it’s logan’s adamantium that is making wade sick again, but he’s been around enough to know that wade will get worse just being apart from logan and he doesn’t think he can do that to wade, even if it meant saving his life. he feels like he’s hurt wade enough and maybe he needs to figure out why he’s even involving himself in all of this before making moves. maybe it would be best that he leaves so no one else has to get hurt or disappointed. maybe wade being sick isn’t something he’s meant to be around for or fix

BUT THEN you have wade, questioning his decades long relationship with logan for the first time in a long time, trying to hang on to the hope that neither one of them are right; that nate is wrong about logan adding their relationship to the tallies of things he destroys and that logan is wrong about nate getting ready to leave cause wade dying is just too serious of a situation to be around for. you have wade, who has always been capable of loving everyone but himself, and is hoping that this time and at the very least, just one of the people he loves love him enough to stay

at some point in all this, none of them know if they’re gonna fuck or fight. or both. so they fight then fuck then fight some more idk dude these old guys are just slutty af in my head

…

so. who’s gonna write it cause i sure as hell can’t 🙃🙃🙃🙃

[jasmine-does-wevertf-she-wants]

I agree! The most beautiful thing for me is that his entire arc LWJ keeps very much with the core of his character - it truly is a development he doesn't fundamentally change at all.

He is a very righteous person, whose defining trait is that he wants to do what is Right (he shares that with WWX). But LWJ grew up in the Lan clan who has a predisposition to rely on their 3000 rules and I think in particular in the raising of The Twin Jades those were heavily invoked. A very Never Again attitude by the elders, in particular LQR. Because what Qifeng-zun did certainly contradicts the rules. And it's much easier to blame the whole tragedy about Madam Lan on rule-breaking instead of trying to detangle what was right. Might Madam Lan have had a good reason to kill a Lan elder? What might a Lan elder have done to warrant killing? Did Qifeng-zun and the Lan clan do the right thing by imprisoning her in a kind of marriage as punishment because they couldn't go against their sect leader's elopement but also couldn't leave the killing unpunished? Might they have caused more suffering by sticking to their Rules, following the best they could instead of trying to do good to the weakest or even all parties involved? To answer those questions the Lan clan would have had to take a good hard look at their own and it's much easier to kind of paint Qifeng-zun as crazy in love and insist if the Rules were followed correctly all would have been well.

And little LWJ really soaks that kind of thinking up when looking for guidance how to do what's Right. The Rules are what's Right and you just need to study very very hard and you will do and be Right. Humans obviously can't be trusted with all their emotions and mistakes but that's what we have Rules for.

And then he watches WWX be obviously Right and just but still being condemned and killed because that's politics. He watches his own sect supporting a ghost cultivator because their collective survival depends on it only to turn on him when public opinion does. Not for a principle. For politics. He watches the Rules being invoked and twisted and bent until they should break but they are still being held up like citing them would mean they apply to this case.

And he realizes he was wrong to adhere only to the Rules. WWX was leaps and bounds ahead of him in having such an acute uncompromising sense of justice. Trusting himself to know what's right. And LWJ does model that off him and is punished within an inch of his life and learns to weave the Rules and his sense for justice and becomes the absolute incredible man WWX meets post-resurrection.

I really really love LWJ's arc because he does a real Darcyesque arc of fixing himself in what others would not even have deemed a flaw. Teen!LWJ very understandably is the way he is and - crucially - his social standing allows him to be like that. He could have done a full JC and doubled down on the Rules and no one in-universe would have ever faulted him for it. Hell he'd probably be lauded as the Master of Rules in the Lan Sect or something. But he recognizes that WWX is right and he wants to be true to his self so he does the very painful work to get it Right. To be gracious. To be compassionate. To make hard choices even if the world condemns him for it. To make the hard choices even if it costs him. To compromise in a way that lets him get away with it while fulfillng his original purpose. He rocks the boat enough to help but doesn't let it sink so he can keep doing Right. He truly grows into himself. And he does it for himself. Out of love and admiration and in memory of WWX but for himself because that development truly reflects him as a person.

I can go on and on about all of that but I think this is long enough already haha

I'm thinking about the difference between like and love in MDZS.

Like it's out of the question that LWJ is instantly incredibly attracted to WWX. Later that obviously develops into a very devoted very deep love. The narration doesn't give any indication when that happens though I'd venture somewhere during the Wen indoctrination camp.

Anyways, does teen!LWJ like WWX though? In the way that he enjoys his company, likes to spend time with him, enjoys who he is as a person? I'd say no. We have no indication that LWJ regards WWX positively on a conscious level at all. Now I think that mostly can be attributed to teen!LWJ lacking most of the emotional development he'll do later. Teen!LWJ doesn't seem to like anyone much other than LXC. And that's okay! He's not a people person and that's fine! Given that and the emotional turmoil WWX most certainly wrecked on him upon arriving in Cloud Recesses I think it's perfectly understandable he doesn't like him much and tries to avoid him.

But then attraction begins to develop into love when he sees WWX isn't only a trouble maker in the Wen indoctrination camp but can take himself back for the safety of the group while still sticking to his principles. Who does it like him? Then he still takes care of LWJ single-handedly saves the whole group sacrificing himself in the process and LWJ is forced to confront very suddenly he's not falling in love with a beautiful talented careless troublemaker but with one of the few people in their world who will choose what's right and trying his best to balance that with the circumstances they live in. And WWX goes missing and LWJ is desperate to find him and he comes back and he is so markedly different from anything their world says he's supposed to be and decidingly not in a good way and he's prepared to let it go for the sake of conforming to the rules he holds so high. Of course throughout the plot he realizes the rules mean nothing and can be very much interpreted to do injustice vs. upholding what's right and that he was wrong to turn his back on WWX for not abiding by the rules.

And then WWX comes back from the dead and it's the first time LWJ really lets himself enjoy his company lets himself enjoy the person WWX is actively keeps him by his side while WWX tries his damned best to be the most obnoxious person to LWJ and how likely is it that LWJ realizes it does not matter? He was so so so wrong for ever thinking WWX annoying. He doesn't like most people's company but WWX can do everything he could not stand in another person and it's fine because he knows WWX and knows whatever he does is out of love and because he thinks it's right and WWX does not go wrong in judging what's right.

And I think actually the opposite is true for WWX. He arrives at Cloud Recesses and is so captivated by LWJ so beautiful the only one who can keep up with him and he stays by his principles the only one WWX ever met who truly treats him as equal. But LWJ rejects him at every opportunity and while WWX does not think LWJ hates him that's certainly not a basis to consider anything more and then the plot happens and really he doesn't have much time to think about anything regarding his feelings until his death.

But then he's resurrected and they do have time and LWJ is not rejecting him but supporting him and caring for him at every turn. Being a person WWX can depend on. Being the only one who ever was that for WWX. While still being beautiful and brilliant and being even more righteous than he was as a teenager and WWX falls in love so quickly it's a speed run. And he really didn't have a chance to do any different.

And I think it's kind of beautiful how they start out from such different points but very beautifully meet in the middle after years and years of misery but still together in the end.

[sesamestreep]

Taylor Swift prompts: Matt/Foggy, 13

13. hands around a cold glass (from the SECOND Taylor Swift prompt list) I was struggling with some writer's block a few weeks ago and my dearest Zainab was kind enough to give me permission to write a tiny Matt/Foggy-centric one-shot set in her Great British Bake-Off AU and I absolutely leapt at the chance, because I love this 'verse and I've been bothering her with texts about what these two would be up to in that AU since like January. I think this makes sense without reading her previous entries in the series (which focus primarily on Sam and Bucky, with an ensemble cast of other MCU characters), but you should read them anyway because they're very good and they will make your life better! Cross-posted to AO3 here (with more notes) if that's your jam 🍯

Even though they’ve set aside their evening for the express purpose of making a decision, Foggy waits until they’ve finished the takeout they ordered to the office (neutral ground, so no one has home field advantage) and cleaned up all the various cartons and silverware and settled back at the conference table with each of their second beers of the night before he brings up the thing they’re supposed to be talking about.

“Okay,” Foggy says, setting his beer down firmly and flipping a page over on his legal pad to find where he scribbled some notes earlier. “Reason number one that you should move into my apartment: you love me.”

“You can’t use that as one of your reasons,” Matt replies, tapping a pen against the table in a fidgety gesture that’s unlike him.

“Why not?”

“Because you also love me, which means you should move into my apartment. They cancel each other out!”

“Oh, my bad,” Foggy says, as he crosses it off his list. “I didn’t know we were playing by Boggle rules…”

Matt scrunches his nose in confusion. “I’m not familiar.”

“Really?” he asks. “You don’t know Boggle? It’s like a classic word game, you have these little cubes with letters on them that you shake and—you know what, saying it out loud, it makes sense that you haven’t played it. I understand that now. It would be impossibly boring even if there was a braille version. Moving on! Reason number two that you should move in with me!”

“Okay…”

“I’m super handsome.”

“Foggy!”

“What?”

Matt shakes his head. “I’m also handsome,” he says, quietly, after a minute.

“Damn, that’s true,” Foggy says, as if it had never occurred to him.

“Please take this seriously!”

“Fine! Reason number three: I have a lot more stuff than you do. It will take me so long to pack and it will probably make me cry and possibly throw up. You, comparatively, would have a much easier time packing, because you live like a weird, sad monk.”

“Hey! I do not! Just because I don’t like clutter…”

“Until we started dating, you owned one singular blanket,” Foggy points out. “It was a blanket for your bed and your couch that you moved back and forth as needed.”

“It was a perfectly good system,” Matt grumbles.

“Right, but isn’t it better now that you have a bed blanket and a couch blanket?”

“I guess,” Matt admits, as though he’s being tormented. “To be fair, it would probably take you at least a week just to pack up all of your cookbooks.”

“I don’t have that many!”

“You bought three new ones last week! That’s already three more than I own!”

“I can’t help it that my friends keep writing cookbooks,” Foggy objects. “What was I supposed to do, Matt? Not buy Daisy’s book?”

Matt crosses his arms, irritably. “No, but you didn’t know the authors of the other two books you bought. You could’ve skipped theirs.”

“Cookbooks make me happy! I don’t tell you not to…go to the gym!”

“You do, in fact, tell me that all the time.”

Foggy makes a hand gesture that’s meant to convey the sentiment of duh, except that such things are generally lost on Matt, for obvious reasons. “Yeah, well, usually it’s because I want you to stay in bed longer.”

“And I want you to own fewer cookbooks so that there’s room in the apartment for us to actually have a bed.”

“Okay, fine,” he concedes. “Give me one of your reasons, then.”

“I know where everything is in my apartment,” Matt says, simply, “whereas at your place, I’m always looking in the wrong cabinets for stuff or tripping over things.”

“That’s just because you’re not as used to it. I’d go through the same thing if I moved to your place!”

“You’d still have an easier time of it than me.”

“That’s…fair,” Foggy concedes. “I can’t really disagree with that without being an asshole.”

“My favorite way to win an argument,” Matt replies, with a smile. “Playing the blind card.”

Foggy shakes his head. “You devious son of a bitch.”

“Also, my apartment is closer to the office and my rent is cheaper.”

“I’ll give you the cheap rent thing, though it is only because of that terrible billboard with the crazy LED lights that come through your windows at all hours, which does not bother you but would definitely bother me.”

“I remember you sleeping through three separate fire drills in college. I think you’d somehow manage to deal with the unique lighting situation of this apartment.”

“Fine,” Foggy admits, begrudgingly. “But I absolutely contest it being a mark in your favor that your apartment is closer to the office. I think it helps with work-life balance that my place is a little farther away.”

Matt thinks this over for a moment and then nods. “Okay, fine. We’ll call it a draw.”

“Good. Moving on, then. Reason number…whatever that my apartment is better: I live right next door to that bodega with those amazing breakfast sandwiches and the good, cheap coffee you love.”

“Fuck,” Matt says, with feeling. “That’s a really good point.”

“Yeah, it is!”

“Okay,” he says, in the tone Foggy’s been hearing him use in court and mock trials and even drunken debates for over a decade now.  It means Matt is currently running through his rebuttal in his mind, devising the best and most efficient way to win this round. Foggy loves that tone of voice, and the expression of intense thought that always accompanies it, even if it usually means he's about to lose whatever argument they're having. He really should be more immune to it by now, but love has made him weak and he's truly not even mad about it.

“My apartment,” Matt says, finally, “has an in-unit washer and dryer.”

That’s a solid point, but Foggy is not going to admit defeat so easily. “Okay,” he says, “but—counterpoint—mine has a dishwasher!”

“I don’t mind hand washing dishes,” Matt replies with a shrug.

“Wait until you live with me to say that,” Foggy says. “I bake all the time! It’s a lot of dishes!”

“It’s still not as bad as having to go to a laundromat and pay whenever you need to do laundry!”

“Well, my landlord says the machines in the basement will be fixed soon, so my laundromat days are numbered.”

“I will believe that when I see it.”

“You can’t see anything, sweetheart.”

“Exactly,” Matt says, smugly. He may have a point. Foggy’s landlord has been saying the washing machines will be fixed “soon” for six months now.

Foggy blows out a breath, making as much noise as humanly possible to express his frustration. “So, where does that leave us? Is somebody winning?”

Matt laughs and distractedly runs a finger through the layer of condensation on his beer bottle, dividing it down the middle with a thick line. “Honestly, I don’t know. It feels like we’re even, at this point.”

“In the spirit of honesty, then, can I ask you something?”

Matt shrugs, the gesture completely at odds with how tense the rest of his body became at the question. “Sure.”

“You do want to move in with me, right?” Foggy asks, hating himself a little for even needing to. “I know we’ve discussed it, and you said you wanted to, but it’s okay if you’re not ready yet or you changed your mind. It’s a big step—”

Matt leans forward to cover Foggy’s hand with his own, letting his fingers, still cold and damp from holding the glass, brush over Foggy’s wrist, raising goosebumps in their wake. “Of course I want to! Does it seem like I don’t?”

“No, it’s just—I know you like your space and that you value your independence a lot, and I get that but I also don’t necessarily relate to it on the same level. I wouldn’t want to pressure you into doing something that’s going to make you miserable.”

“Well, for one thing, you’re not pressuring me and living with you is not going to make me miserable. It will do the opposite, in fact.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s not even going to be our first time living together, dumbass,” Matt says, fondly. “You do remember college, don’t you?”

“Very little of it, in fact,” Foggy quips. “I think I was drunk for most of Spring 2010. It’s more or less a blank spot.”

“Still, we didn’t hate living together then, did we?”

“No,” Foggy replies. “One could even argue that we loved living together.”

“And that was with us sleeping in twin beds. Imagine how much better it will be, uh…not in twin beds…”

Foggy stifles a laugh. “Matt, did you seriously get all blushy at the idea of a queen sized bed?”

“No,” Matt says, tipping his chin down to hide his face. "Shut up!"

“You’re so cute. I want to have sex with you immediately.”

“No! No sex! In fact, I’m breaking up with you.”

“No, you’re not! You love me!”

“Yes, I do,” Matt says, sullenly, “And for what it’s worth, I only got embarrassed because it felt like I was implying that we slept together in our dorm in college, which obviously wasn’t true and I didn’t want to…”

“You didn’t want to admit how big of a crush you had on me back then, I get it,” Foggy says. “Oh, wait, sorry! That was me!”

“Again: shut up!”

“Okay, but now you’ve got me thinking: maybe we should do twin beds…”

“Foggy,” Matt groans.

“I don’t want our relationship to be in violation of the Hays Code, Matt!”

“Well, we’re both men, so that ship has already sailed, I’m afraid…”

“I’m just saying: if it’s good enough for Mary Tyler Moore and Dick Van Dyke, it should be good enough for us!”

“To each their own, I guess, but I sleep better when I share a bed with you.”

“I’ll pretend your reasons are romantic,” Foggy says, aiming for sarcasm and missing by a wide margin, “and not just because you turn into a koala when you sleep.”

“Have you considered being less huggable, maybe?” Matt asks, with a straight face.

“That’s like asking the sun to be less radiant! It is counter to my very nature!”

He smiles. “Fair point.”

Foggy leans back in his chair, making sure to keep his fingers tangled together with Matt’s as he does. He sighs, closing his eyes, and tries to come up with an answer to their problem. It’s a big step for their relationship and huge life changes tend to require sacrifice or compromise on some level, but it’s difficult to think of an option that doesn’t require much more of that from one of them than the other. Except…

“I have a very stupid idea,” Foggy announces. 

“Okay,” Matt replies, warily.

“And I know it’s stupid, okay? I just said that, but I want to be very clear that I’m aware of it. I’m just going to say it anyway, to put it out there.”

“Okay…”

“Should we just look for a place together?”

Matt furrows his brow, puzzling through the implications of this option. “As in, we both leave our current apartments for a completely new one?”

“Yeah. That way we both have to pack, and move, and get used to a new space, instead of only one of us having to do it. I know it’s more expensive and more trouble, so—“

“Is it weird that it makes me feel better?” Matt asks. “The idea that we’d both have to be inconvenienced, equally?”

“No,” Foggy admits. “It makes me feel better too. I want it to feel equal. And we could find a bigger place, maybe with an extra room.”

“For an office?”

Foggy laughs. “Honestly, it’s a sign of how low my standards are that I’m just relieved your mind didn’t go immediately to an in-home gym.”

Matt’s eyebrows lift, excitedly. “We could find a building that has a gym, though.”

“Like you’d ever cheat on Fogwell’s like that.”

“I meant for cross-training…”

“Of course you did,” Foggy says, rolling his eyes. “We could make a list. Things we need—“

“Close to the bodega with the good coffee,” Matt interjects, smiling.

“And a functional laundry room, somewhere on site,” Foggy adds, nodding. “And then a list of things that would be nice to have, like a gym or no nearby billboards that will fry my retinas in the middle of the night.”

“So, you’re saying we’d get to debate and write out two more lists?” Matt asks. “Are you trying to seduce me right now? In our office? Where solemn attorney-ing is done?”

“No, it just comes so naturally to me,” Foggy replies, running his thumb over Matt’s knuckles affectionately. “Though it sounds to me like that’s a yes?”

Matt gives him a surprised look. “Yes to…?”

“God, keep your pants on for two minutes, Murdock! I’m talking about the plan!”

“Oh, yeah. The plan. I mean, I know it’s more work for us and more trouble, but…”

“I’d go through a lot more trouble for your sake, if it means making you happy,” Foggy says, simply. It’s the truth, and he tries to make it a habit to say what he means, especially with Matt. It took them long enough to get here. What’s the point in hiding how he feels now?

Matt rests his chin in the hand that isn’t holding Foggy’s. “You’re very sweet, you know that?”

“I’ve heard it before, once or twice.”

“I don’t know what I did to get so lucky.”

“You smiled at me once when we were eighteen and it was all over for me. And then fifteen years later, you got jealous of a woman I met on a reality show and finally fell in love with me.”

Matt turns an adorable shade of pink and takes his hand away to cross his arms petulantly over his chest. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, so it didn’t take me going to a wedding with one of my best friends under completely platonic circumstances for you to admit you had feelings for me?” Foggy asks, grinning.

“I don’t recall, actually,” Matt says, primly, as he reaches for his beer again and takes an uninterested sip. 

“Speaking of Daisy,” Foggy says, enjoying this way too much, “I should talk to her. She and Daniel said their realtor from when they moved was great. They might be able to put us in touch with someone.”

“We could always use the realtor who rented me my place,” Matt suggests, in the neutral tone of someone who definitely wouldn’t rather eat glass than ask Daisy for help with anything. “She was very helpful and I remember she gave me her card. I could probably find it.”

“Yeah, she gave you her card because she wanted to sleep with you,” Foggy says, shaking his head. “Pass.”

“You don’t have to be jealous, Foggy,” Matt replies, with an evil smile. “She showed me the apartment under completely platonic circumstances.”

Foggy rolls his eyes at that. “You’ve never been in platonic circumstances with anyone, Matt! Every person who meets you wants to sleep with you immediately.”

Matt shrugs, like this means nothing. “Too bad for them. I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah?” Foggy laughs. “Is it serious?”

Matt nods, and his smile isn’t evil at all anymore. “Very,” he says. “We’re moving in together.”

[blackthorn-faerie]

I am a frequent indulger in University AUs, and Aventurine is always depicted as a business student. I love to see it, but to me, he is a high school dropout who somehow managed to work his way into a recruiting position in a mega corporation (the IPC lol) and is frequently at the university for hiring fairs and things

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Birthday Planning

SO! Fun fact. I was kinda running out of ideas.

Then I had THIS idea.

And well. After the last ride? We deserve cuteness don't we? ;)

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No edits we diving right in! (pppst. @spotaus I got the new installment get in here ;) )

*---------------------*

"Horror! Wait up!"

Horror blinks as he turns back around and searches the crowd. It only takes him a moment to spot the excited bunny monster. He tries to give a smile while he waits for a moment for the other to catch up.

Ellie stops before him panting harshly as she leans against him "Oh god." more pants and weezes.

Horror tilts his skull as he keeps the other steady "Hello Ellie... something wrong?" Maybe she needed help or something?

Ellie manages to pull herself upright again adn smiles brightly "Nothing is wrong! It is just I had something very important to ask you guys and saw you so i sprinted all the way over here."

Horror nods and gives her a look "What did you want to ask?"

Ellie grins widely "When is Nightmare's birthday? Like. No worries! I get that you guys havent been here for quite a year yet and with everything going on especially the whole kidnaping thing. we get you guys want the first birthday to just be you guys but Dani realised we still had some of our better quality cherry jams left over and I got the amazing idea to use those in a birthdya cake but! Well.. you know... gotta know when the birthday is. and we both figured it hadn't happened yet as you guys hadn't mentioned yet... so... When is it? And all you guys birthdays for that matter."

horror needs a moment to process all the information she just dropped on him. When he realised what she was asking he realised a tiny problem.

They all come from different universes and the calanders were not the same.

Worse.

Horror isn't even sure if Nightmare even has a birthday he celebrates. They never celebrated it as the castle.

Horror looks down at the groceries in his arms before looking at Ellie "Is it... okay I give an answer later?"

Ellie frowns before her eyes shoot up to his skull and hole and she cringes and rubs her neck as she looks abcka t his face. sheepish smile on her face "Right... sorry. That... that was a lot at once wasn't it? Just... think about it okay? And you guys got our number!" she takes a few steps backwards, almost bumping into someone before she disappears into the crowd again.

Horror sighs in relievve, crisis averted. Now.

When the fuck are their birthdays in this world anyway?

--

Horror returned home to his datemates and their kid. Horror still feels his soul pulse happily even at just the thought.

They sit together in the nest while their dinner cooks slowly in their oven. It is an old stone oven and Horror loves it. it is sturdy and takes up a lot of space but he love using it.

Killer frowns as he is still staring at his phone "I mean... We can just pick dates and call it a day? It isn't like I was still celebrating my own birthday back in my universe anyway. I only started that up again with you guys in the castle."

Dust hums his agreement and Cross nods too "True! XTale also wasn't big on birthdays unless it were the once which marked important ages. I am down to just pick one and call it."

Nightmare frowns as he looks between them before pushing closer to Dust "Not like it matters. It isn't like i am growing and stuff."

Dust nudges Nightmare's skull with his own and mutters softly "Hey... what did Fauna say?"

Ngihtmare doesn't say anything and just pushes clsoer to Dust.

Dust doesn't look like he is bothered by this at all as he just nudges Nightmare gently again "Come on... what did the nice deer doctor lady say?"

Ngihtmare grumbles but actually answers this time "That I won't grow until i am healed."

Dust nods "exactly. As long as you are healing you won't grow. Which, she told us is a normal response for children to have as their bodies and magic are much more fragile." he bonks their skulls together softly "Which means. You will stay our adorable six year old until you are healed fullly. Including physical, mental and magic health."

Nightmare looks down embarresed and mutters "should be healed by now... I am a god..."

Dust looks unimpressed "You are also a six year old who lived his whole life being abused and hurt and when you finally had the power to defend yourself you had to do an adult god's duty." he nuzzles him "Take your time. We aren't in a hurry and any monster knows what it means if a child isn't growing."

Nightmare relaxes a bit and nods. accepting Dusts words.

Dust looks content as he glances up before looking slightyl embarresed as he tubs his hood closer around his skull "what?"

Horror then realises he is staring and a glacne confirms to are Cros and Killer. Cross looks completely enchanted and Killer is straight up cooing. Yeah no wonder Dust is getting shy. He was the same when the four of them spoke about dating.

Horror smiles at Dust before taking his chance to say something "Well. We better pick a birthday for him." Horror smiles at Nightmare "Or do you have one we don't know about Night?"

Ngihtmare shrugs and mutters "Dream and I were born on the longest day of the year... I don't know which date it was in our universe and when it is in other universes."

Killer groans "Of course it was on the sunniest day of the universe- ugh." Killer shoots Cross a glare but Cross jsut sends him a warning look back.

Horror agrees. Killer would have no doubt said something about either Dream or Nim and neither of them matter. At all. Not when they have a babybones that probably never even had anyone celebrate his birthday.

Dust stays on task as he hums in thought "Well... we could figure out when the longest day is here... and say that is your birthday? usually those fall in summer."

Killer shoots upright "or! We can pick the day when the longest night happens! Go right to the other side of it all!"

Horror watches Dust and Killer debate the options while he watches their tiny charge think. and that is why he sees Nightmare blink and looks up a bit as he no doubt gets an idea. Then the doubt sets in wihtout him saying anyhting.

Horror speaks gently "Did you have an idea?" luckily Killer and Dsut shut up right away.

Nightmare shrugs and mutters "maybe... I thought... you know... I became six again... and you guys picked me up so second chance and stuff... so shouldn't that count as the day? Because it is the day this whole thing started?" he tugs himself clsoer to Dust.

Dust hums as he rubs his spine oh so gently "I think it is a great idea." he glances at Killer "Kills?"

Killer grins as he taps away on his phone "already on it! lets see..."

Horror smiles at Nightmare "I think we all agree it is a great idea."

Nightmare smiles a tiny bit and Horror sees a tine glimps of that confident monster Nightmare had been with his powers. Which is good. This means they are guiding him alright towards a future where he is confident in himself, and hopefully happy and healthy.

Killer sits up and holds up his phone in triumph "Figured it out! We got here near mid summer and we had Ngihtmare for two months at that point. Ngihtmare become his true self a month before we got him. meaning!" Killer grins at Nightmare "You are a spring baby!" Killer shows the date to them all.

Ngihtmare looks away embarresed and Dust nods "Sounds good."

Nightmare however looks a bit anxious "But that is so soon already?"

Dust nuzzles him "That is okay. We will just do a small party with us five. Well and Crop and Straw if they want to come."

Horror sees Nightmare looks surprised and just chuckles "It will be nice. Something nice to focus on and enjoy together." he rubs the tiny cheek and Nightmare closes his sockets to lean into the touch.

The five of them relax and eat dinner soon after that as they casually discuss when everyone wants their own birthdays. Horror makes a point of picking up their housephone and calling Dani and Ellie to give them an update on the birthday situation and to invite them the party if they want to and have time. Horror also gives Crop the same update and invitation.

They are together. They are healing. The are happy.

And they have a party to prepare. They have to make sure Nightmare enjoys his very first birthday party after all.

*---------------------*

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[evilherehotel]

guys. guys the similarities. guys listen to me