#i’m a little sad because i want to finish a lot of them this year but … :’) with uni. that’ll be hard

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

it’s me and my 40 wips against the world always

[mymelodyisme]

Last post made me think about what I wanted most lol

[amywritesthings]

happy birthday, levi. / part one.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) word count: 2.7k summary: It's your first Christmas with the whole Underground gang -- but you didn't realize the date shares significance to someone's birthday.

rated teen // pre-aot, the underground gang are teens, explicit language, baking, eating food, unresolved romantic tension, lots of yearning, fluffy found family vibes for the holiday

note: set in the universe silver underground during flashback two credit: dividers by @/saradika-graphics; thank you to @nube55 for sending me this prompt for the SU anniversary! part of: #leviweek24 / @levievent (day one: birthday)

part two coming soon.

Christmas Eve.

Although you have never celebrated the holidays before, it isn’t as if you’ve never wanted to celebrate them. Mother had no interest in spending her booze money on her adoptive children, and most of the people residing in the Underground don’t have the coin in general for the festivities they partake in on the surface.

Lost in your own thoughts, it takes a few seconds for you to realize you have company: Furlan and Isabel slide up to your scrubbing station at the kitchen sink sporting twin smirks, one on either side.

(You swear they operate on the same unearthly wavelength.)

“Whatever it is you’re planning,” you start with a pointed look to Furlan, “Levi is going to say no.”

“What makes you so sure we’re going to tell him?” chimes Isabel, catching your interest.

When your turn your attention to her, the ginger-haired girl grins proud and wide.

You’re not convinced.

“So you two want to double your chores?”

“Why would he double them?” Furlan snorts, taking a finished plate from your hands to towel-dry it off.

“If I feign innocence to whatever plot you’re hatching, then he’ll give both of you—” You use a clean fork to gesture it between the conspiring friends. “—not only his duties, but mine.”

Isabel deflates a fraction of an inch.

“Damn, she’s right.”

“Still,” Furlan presses on, “you should hear us out, because there’s something you don’t know about tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Your brow furrows. “You mean Christmas? I know what Christmas is, Church.”

“No!” Furlan groans, head bent back to the ceiling. “Ugh, c’mon, James. We all know Christmas is tomorrow—”

“—but so is a certain someone’s birthday,” interrupts Isabel.

Wait.

Low and conspiratorial, you voice the point they’ve been hinting at since they double-teamed this conversation at the kitchen sink:

“...Levi’s birthday is on Christmas?”

“A-yup.” Isabel crosses her arms, leaning against the counter. “And he doesn’t ever tell anyone about it, so this is a biggie.”

“Then how’d you know?”

“Because Furlan told me.”

“But we didn’t celebrate it last year,” you argue. “Before we found Isa, I mean.”

(How has it already been a year since you’ve been living with the boys, and six months since Isabel Magnolia joined the crew?)

“Well, technically I only found out this year because Levi kinda mumbled in his sleep once, and I put two and two together,” Furlan quickly explains, palms held up in surrender, “but he never mentioned it any of the other years before when I met ‘em.”

Granted, you barely remember your own birthday sometimes, but the idea of a holiday overshadowing Levi’s birthday feels… sad. 

There is already so little in the Underground to celebrate, but Levi is an exception; always has, always will be for you.

Giving the newly-clean fork to Furlan to towel off, you take a step back to view them both.

“I’m in.”

“Huh?”

“Really?!”

Isabel catches what you’re saying well before Furlan does — unsurprisingly. Although the young girl shares a bond with Furlan, the two of you have your own secret language.

(A found sister you’d always wanted.)

“We have plenty of time to make a small cake before he comes home,” you add, rounding them to begin looking around the shelves to take inventory.

Although ingredients for baking in the Underground are scarce and few, the score from last week’s heist can be your solution to a few deals with some of the surface-dwellers lurking with luxury goods. 

“Fur, mind running to the market? You can use some of my earnings if flour costs extra this year.”

“No need, sis, we got ya,” Isabel chirps as she bounces over to the door, saluting you.

Furlan meets your gaze and nods once, saluting as a joke to match Isabel, before disappearing.

The small apartment is silent once more, leaving you to stir in this newfound information about Levi Ackerman.

There’s so much you still don’t know about the teen, his personal life locked tight with an impossible key. 

If Furlan’s wrong, then it’ll be one hell of an awkward surprise.

If he’s right?

Your attention trails to your shared bedroom with Isabel, mindful of the bag of tea you’d stolen in last week’s heist. There hasn’t been a time or place to tell Levi that you swiped goods from somebody on the surface, risking your own neck for something as precious as leaves.

(But they mattered to him, so you didn’t think twice.)

With a sharp inhale, you place your hands on your hips and nod to yourself.

“A birthday cake,” you say to no one, hyping yourself up for the challenge. “It’s a damn cake, how hard can it possibly be?”

.

.

.

.

.

The answer appears to be incredibly hard.

“You’re not doing it right.”

“What?”

“I said you’re not doing it right, bro!”

“I know how to sift flour, Isabel!”

“Not well, apparently!”

“Children,” you call to your helpers at the old dining room table, “I know they say baking is a science, but I need you to be less critical and more — y’know, efficient, before he gets home.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Furlan calls, holding out a bowl to you. “Flour, salts, and all the whatever stuff is ready for you.”

You take it off of his hands and add the mixture, trying to eyeball the mix. 

Granted, you’re no baker yourself — you’re barely a cook on your regular days, left only to observe and learn by what Levi’s taught you since moving into his apartment — but you’re trying your damnedest anyway.

Once the rectangular pan is in the oven, you drop the mittens onto the counter and wipe the sweat off of your brow. 

Is it the most amazing cake? 

Probably not.

Should it have taken three people to make? 

Definitely not.

Yet the three of you worked hard to produce it.

“When is he supposed to come home?” Isabel adds, flopping down on the couch with a grunt.

“He said by nightfall,” you tell them both, remembering your brief conversation from this morning’s spar. “So we have some time.”

Furlan hangs his apron (see: Levi’s) against the back of a wooden chair and drops down to the couch beside Isabel, his head lying back. 

“How come he always tells you where he’s going, but not me?”

You don’t have an answer.

Furlan is right: Levi always leaves his plans in the palm of your hands, his whereabouts unknown to the rest of the world, but you aren’t sure why.

In hindsight he should be trusting the person he’s known the longest, and yet—

Just because Levi endorsed you.

The words that Furlan spoke when he first revealed the ODM gear to you, though it was dropped before you could ever get clarification.

Levi wanted you here, after all these years.

He trusted your word, your opinion, your view.

And you still don’t know why.

(You would be a liar if you said you didn’t feel the same magnetic pull, unspoken and unmatched.)

“Watch the cake, will you?” you ask the two as you disappear into the bedroom, closing the door to a crack behind you.

You move to the tiny nightstand by your bedside, rummaging through the bottom drawer to find it: the loose tea leaves hidden away, smelling delightfully fresh. 

Gingerly you hold it in the palm of your hands, wondering—

Will he be angry if he finds out you swiped this?

Would it supersede the fact that you stole them just for him?

(A cake baked by three idiots is already a stretch for someone who doesn’t tell people about their birthday, but will a personal gift cross the line?)

Your hand curls around the bag to gently conceal it in the pocket of your worn jacket, making a decision.

It’s almost Christmas.

You’ll take your chances.

.

.

.

.

.

The second the raven-haired boy steps into the apartment, you can tell he’s on high alert.

Maybe it’s the way Isabel looks as if she’s about to burst at the seams, overtly excited for the surprise hiding behind her back.

Maybe it’s the way Furlan bends at the hip, awkwardly pressing a hand on the chair behind Isabel’s back to complete the human shield hiding your amateur birthday cake on the table.

Regardless, his eyes flicker to them directly to yours, asking wordlessly:

What’s going on?

You shake your head, albeit lightly.

It’s fine.

The furrow in his brow only decreases by a centimeter before his stern gaze returns to the wonder twins all but bursting at the seams with their giggles and snickers.

“What shit did I walk into?” he bluntly asks them.

Furlan takes the lead, playing the much-too-cool cop in this situation.

“Well, ya know — it’s Christmas Eve and all—”

“Obviously,” Levi flatly interrupts.

“—and you have been busting your ass and stuff on this next job of ours—”

“This feels like a very poor proposal,” he interrupts again.

“—and because of—”

Isabel, unable to help herself, bursts out with her arms high over her head:

“Happy birthday, bro!”

Silence.

Pure.

Agonizing.

Silence.

Levi’s eyes find yours once more, brows raised with intrigue. There are multiple questions in his eyes, some you aren’t quite catching, but you know he’s biting his tongue.

Mad, maybe not, but uncomfortable? Yeah.

You tilt your head as if to apologize, unable to provide much solace, only to walk to the table for the big reveal. 

Picking up the little chocolate cake from behind Isabel and Furlan, you carefully hold the tray as you walk across the apartment right to him at the door.

“Technically Furlan told us it was tomorrow,” you start as if you’re trying not to scare a feral cat, “but we wanted to make sure you could celebrate it.”

“And you wouldn’t be out of the house tomorrow,” Furlan chimes in, and you can’t help but roll your eyes when you’re out of his line of sight.

That gets an imperceptible smile to twitch at the corner of Levi’s lips.

“That, too,” you concede.

Holding up the cake with the singular burning candle, your eyes search his for his thoughts, feelings, emotions — if he hates it, if he’s angry at the three of you for conspiring, if —

“I didn’t know Furlan knew my birthday,” is all he responds, staring at the cake.

Even if he’s subtle about it, the flicker of the flame before him illuminates a different story.

He’s… shocked.

Stuck staring at the flame, the dark-haired teen seems to be committing the sight to memory.

So are you.

“You’re supposed to make a wish and blow the candle out,” you murmur, catching his attention. ”I don’t make the rules.”

His stormy eyes glance up at you, taking a pause.

(A moment, it seems, for the two of you.)

“Any?” the sixteen year-old asks under his breath.

You nod.

He nods back, eyes still on you, before reaching for the cake. He pinches the flame between his thumb and index finger, snuffing out the flame instantly.

Your eyes shoot wide. “Levi—”

“Blowing on it is fucking disgusting,” he chimes, before craning his neck so he can look at Furlan and Isabel waiting behind you. “You mouth breathers didn’t get any of your germs on this thing, right?”

Isabel cackles while Furlan makes short, choked noises of indignance.

“Hey, I didn’t get my damn germs on it!”

“Just checking,” he replies casually, but a ghost of a smile passes over his lips. His head tilts quickly to the right, signalling the two of you should join them.

(The tea leaves feel heavy in your jacket pocket.)

Walking the cake back to the table, Isabel jumps at the ready to cut up slices, all too eager to serve the birthday boy and talk his ear off about the many adventures they’d taken as a trio to pull this off. You give her the floor, too busy watching Levi in the moment.

Was this really his first cake?

Granted, you’ve never had a cake yourself, much less a birthday present, but…

The concept of celebrating something — anything — among the four of you hits your in the belly, hard.

You want to celebrate. You want to take the perceived little things and make them grandiose, with the time that’s been gifted to you.

You’re only sixteen, but you know.

Time is precious.

(And so is he.)

Observing the group as they dive into their slices of chocolate cake — thank the heavens they’re not only edible, but delicious — you wait for clean-up duty to begin in order to tap Levi’s billowing white sleeve draped across the empty chair beside him.

The raven-haired boy looks up at you, his full attention solely on you.

“You alright?”

You nod, even if your palms are sweating.

“I noticed you baked the damn thing but didn’t have a slice,” he adds simply. “Allergic to chocolate cake or something?”

“I’ll have some later,” you promise, shifting from one foot to another. “Could we… talk?”

Immediately his brow furrows.

Concern.

You wave it off. “It’s nothing bad. Swear.”

“Is it a second cake?” he tries to joke, deadpan in its delivery, but he stands nonetheless.

You snort, stepping away to walk him to your bedroom for privacy. 

Isabel and Furlan are too busy fighting over who cleans and who dries. 

This is your window.

Levi follows, his forearm resting on the doorframe for a second as he looks you over, trying to understand where this is going. His eyes narrow, contemplating, before walking in after you.

“It isn’t like you to be cagey.”

“Yeah, well, this is something just from me.”

The words cause your body to scorch with embarrassment. Sentiment isn’t in your vocabulary. You’ve known him for over a year now, closer to two years, yet—

This feels strangely intimate.

Especially now that his narrowed gaze smooths and softens, understanding.

Before he can say anything more, you shove your hand into your pocket to fish out the bag and hold it out to him, jaw clenched.

You should say happy birthday, but you can’t.

Hell, you can’t say much of anything as you wait.

Levi drops his chin, pausing, before he nears. “Is that…”

“They’re fresh,” you interrupt in a blurt.

“James.”

Shit.

He sounds upset.

“I know, but I was discreet,” you attempt to explain. “It was in someone’s pocket during the heist and — and I know we don’t steal from anyone beyond the MPs, but this was one of those shitty surface-dwelling assholes that try to market and outprice us.”

His hand freezes over the bag, hovering. Swallowing your fear, you gesture once more with your open palm for him to take the bag.

“I don’t regret it.”

That causes him to flicker his widening eyes from the bag to you.

“Do you know how expensive—”

“I don’t fucking care, Levi,” you exhale, relieved to finally confess it. “It’s almost your birthday. It’s Christmas Eve. I… I think you deserve it more than anyone, surface or underground.”

Silence befalls the room once more.

He seems to struggle with the concept of deserving much of anything — always has — before he gingerly relieves your palm of the bag to bring it towards his chest.

Levi stares down at it with wonder, turning the bag and feeling its weight in his hand. 

To your surprise his head dips, taking a brief sniff of the leaves and basking in the aroma.

“...thank you, James.”

His voice is softer, this time.

A bewildered whisper.

It squeezes your heart and makes it grow twice its size.

In the darkness of your bedroom, you finally find the strength to say the words, loaded with a gratitude you can never repay.

The boy you met so long ago in a flurry of fists; the teen who offered a hand of refuge and a promise to never go back to a life of anguish and pain; the person who’s defined you — this James, in this life — for the better and never for the worse.

You hope a gift in the dark, a cake baked by three, and a wish can convey it all.

“Happy birthday, Levi.”

And many more, with me right by your side.

author's note: i know i've disappeared for the past month, but i wanted to give at least a little present to my readers past and present for sticking by me in 2024. this is a two-part birthday series. the second part (also set on levi's birthday) will be posted at some point after christmas since i'm super busy with family and friends tomorrow.

merry christmas, friends. thank you for your support and kind words. i'm so grateful for the memories we've shared in 2024, and i hope that i can keep posting my pride and joy into 2025. 🤍

[lie-lacdreams]

Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt. 1)

Hello! I'm putting out my very first piece ever and I'm so excited to feed the masses as much Mouthwashing content as they deserve :) This game has a lot of sensitive topics to it and as such I'll try my best to bring them up as appropriately as possible. The story is gonna start off slow and elaborative because I love all of the Tulpar crew so much (except for Jollof rice, Jimneva convention) and they all have such interesting personalities that I couldn't help but to explore their wants and aspirations. This story will feature an alternative ending to the game because I cannot stomach sad things they make me very sad </3

Next

engineer! reader x curly TW: a bad word or two, I think word count ~ 1.9K

Curly was back in the medical bay for his routine psychological evaluation with Anya. With all of the questions answered and out of the way, the both of them were just chatting before he had to go back to the cockpit and finish up his duties for the afternoon.

“You’re all good to go, Captain. Seems like there isn’t much change from your answers like last time, as usual.” Anya let out a tired sigh. 

“That should be a good thing, given we’ve already been on this trip for almost two months now. We should all be used to the routine around here at this point. Has everybody else been adjusting alright?” Curly stood up from his chair, Anya following suit as they moved towards the door. 

“For the most part, everyone’s been well but I wish they would open up or take the assessment seriously. I mean, at least Daisuke has been making my job a little easier – he just talks and talks.” she mused. Curly gave a little chuckle in response, thinking about the last-minute intern that the Pony Express decided to add on board to their journey. He wasn’t exactly the most helpful – at least according to Swansea – but he brought an air of lightheartedness that they all needed in a cut-corners, shitty working environment like the Tulpar. “Oh, actually, have you seen (Y/N) lately?”

Curly thought for a moment. Along with Daisuke, (Y/N) was another late addition to the crew. The Tulpar has started showing its age and as such, there were increasingly consistent problems with the water pipes, life support, and fuel usage. However, instead of giving the crew a new ship, they handed the responsibility of keeping the ship up and running to the passengers. After their previous trip, Swansea went straight to the higher-ups and ripped them a new one, stating that “he couldn’t be expected to perform miracles”. When the crew was assigned this trip, they were all surprised that corporate had listened to Swansea’s complaints and granted them with another engineer. (Y/N) was self-sufficient, only really needing to work with Swansea to consult him on how best to move forward and with Daisuke when Swansea needed a break from his overzealousness. As a result, Curly saw and knew very little about her. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t. Why?”

“She’s due for her check-in as well but I haven’t seen her these past two days to tell her that. Go figure. We share a room yet recently she’s been waking up earlier and sleeping later than I have. When I went to ask Swansea and Daisuke if they’d seen her, they said that they haven’t seen her at all today.” 

“Huh. She’ll show up eventually. This ship only has so many places a person can be. If I see her, I’ll let her know to go straight to you. Thanks, Anya.” He patted her shoulder lightly before heading out, making his way back to the cockpit to fulfill his duties. 

In the evening, the crew convened at the table for dinner. Curly always looked forward to this time of day, where everyone had finished all of their tasks and could open up with light hearted banter. With only the six of them on the ship for over a year, all they had were each other, and he cherished all of his crew members. Anya and Swansea were chatting to the left of him about Swansea’s kids back on Earth. To his right, he saw Jimmy get increasingly agitated as Daisuke tried convincing him to swap dinners with him. That’s when he spotted the empty chair across from him and realized that (Y/N) was still missing. 

No one was concerned by her absence; it was a common occurrence, and he trusted Daisuke and Swansea to be in the loop about what she was up to and would report to him if anything happened. During the work day, everyone was so consumed with their jobs and couldn’t afford to worry about the whereabouts of the others, unless they needed to lend a hand. Curly wasn’t an exception to this. As the captain it was his responsibility to make sure his crew members were okay and that things were moving along nicely, and so far there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that indicated otherwise. With everyone finishing up their dinner, clean up began before people bid each other goodnight. 

In the middle of the night, he woke up parched. Debating whether or not to get a glass of water, he finally got out of bed and made his way to the lounge where the kitchen was. Leaving his room, he could hear a faint clacking noise grow slightly louder the closer he got to the lounge entrance. Opening the door to the lounge, he was finally met with the sixth crew member whom no one had seen all day. Sitting at the dining table, (Y/N) rested her feet on the seat of her chair and had her knees drawn up to her chest. All around her were books and loose papers scattered about. Her hair was messed up, likely a direct cause of the hand she kept on her head, fingernails digging into her scalp. Curly gently cleared his throat, trying to make her aware of his presence. Shooting a tired glance his way, her eyes widened a bit before immediately sitting up straight and tidying her hair. She looked guilty, like she was caught in the middle of doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. 

“Finally, we get to see her. Where have you been, Miss Absentee?” He sent a small smile her way, walking over to her.

“C-Captain! What are you doing up? It’s quite late.” (Y/N) nervously fidgeted.

“Just up for a glass of water. What are you doing up so late is the real question.” He crossed his arms. 

“Just doing a bit of work. Can’t get enough of it.” She joked dryly. Curly frowned and pulled the chair next to her to take a seat. She sighed and leaned back, finally relaxing from tensing up after seeing Curly enter the room. (Y/N) didn’t know her captain well, and as such she always tried her best to save face and remain professional with him, but at this hour of the night, she was too tired to keep up with decorum. 

He leaned on the table, facing her. “I know we may not be as close as you are with Swansea and Daisuke, or even Anya, but as your captain I care about how you’re doing and I want you to open up to me.” Her expression became hesitant as she shifted in her seat. “We’re all busy and even though it’s common for you to go missing during meal times, seeing you like this now is making me worried about how you’re doing.”

(Y/N) kept quiet for a second, looking like she was mulling something over before picking up the object right in front of her.  “Do you know what this is?” 

“An abacus. Interesting that you have one.” he said. 

“Yeah.” she sighed. She moved her gaze from Curly to the plastic Polle statue in the corner of the room. “Before I got on the Tulpar, they had given me all of the supplies I needed to fulfill my duties and do what they asked of me. I had met Swansea only briefly before so he could give me manuals and maps of the ship’s layout. I got the uniform, the steel-toed boots, notebooks, writing utensils, and a solar-powered calculator.” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’d think that would be enough to prepare me to be here, but no . If only there was a way to have a bit of sunlight in outer space in a ship with no windows. They gave me something so crucial but useless out here. I had brought the abacus on board with me for sentimental reasons, but ironically enough it’s the only thing here that allows me to do my job.” She glanced back at him. “I’m not sure if you were aware, but Pony Express lied and said this was an internship for graduate students. Little did I know I’d be thrown into something I wasn’t going to have much guidance in. I needed a break from my PhD and even though the pay wasn’t that great, I was desperate for some sort of escape from academia.  I thought going to space would give me that, but every day I wake up is a constant reminder that I’m so underqualified. Swansea is an expert with the mechanical side of the ship and he’s helped me a great deal, but the fluid mechanics and thermodynamics of it all are things he knows nothing about. So I’m here, trying my best to play catch-up and praying that I figure out a solution so that this ship has enough fuel, enough air to last us an entire year, and that the Tulpar doesn’t pop like a pressurized soda bottle while we’re out here.” 

“(Y/N)...” Curly’s voice died at her name, shocked at this revelation and disappointed he somehow didn’t know about her struggle sooner. “I had no idea what you were going through. You always seemed to have a grasp on your tasks and Swansea always praised the work you did, so I just assumed you weren’t having a hard time adjusting. Have you told any of this to Anya during your evaluations?”

“No… I really wanted to believe that I could do it and stick it out, and so far, thank God, I’ve just barely made it every time. I really wanted you and the rest of the crew to believe I was capable and worthy of being here.” He cautiously put a hand on her shoulder, testing the waters on how he should comfort her. 

“You are worthy of being here. The fact that we’ve been having such a smooth trip with no complications so far makes that obvious. I really appreciate you opening up to me now. I want to do everything I can to make sure you aren’t stressed about your work. You need to get rest and eat like the rest of us. Sure, none of us are a chemical engineering smarty pants like you, but you can always ask for help, even if it’s just for something like bringing you food or running errands around the ship.” He smiled at her, and she weakly reciprocated the gesture.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Thank you, Curly.” Too tired to remember formalities, (Y/N) let out a big yawn, much to his amusement. 

“So are you gonna go to bed?” He asked. She threw her head back and groaned in defeat, murmuring a “yes”. “Good! I hope I get to see more of you around now that you’ll be asking for help, yes?”

“Yes, of course, Captain. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The both of them stood up, (Y/N) to head to her quarters and Curly to finally get his glass of water. Before completely leaving, she paused and turned back. “Oh, and Captain?” 

“Hmm?” He raised his head up to look at her again.

“I know you have a lot of responsibility on your shoulders looking after all of us. Please, rely on me too.” She smiled gently.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” He called after her as she slipped through the door. He felt content that he was making good progress to gaining the trust of the crew member he knew the least. It always made him feel good to be the reliable captain he hoped everyone viewed him as. Having that conversation with (Y/N) made him a little more relaxed now that she had opened up to him for the first time.

[evieolo]

Hey you should do an angst one where Matt and Y/n get into a fight while in the car and then y/n gets mad and then gets out of the car at a stop light and walkd home in the rain like crying and all that fun jazz, sorry if that's a little confusing.

Rain — Matt Sturniolo x Reader

A/N: @sturniolo-fav-matt you’re the best for putting up with the insane amount of time it took me to write this 💋 | It’s hard to write arguments where the characters don’t both bitch about it, so Matt and Y/N are both in the wrong here (more so Matt though)

Contains: Arguments/Big disagreement/hurt comfort (I think idk if this is sad in the slightest)

Date night hadn’t started well. Quite the opposite. Matt made a dinner reservation for nine. The dinner was supposed to be after he, Chris, and Nick filmed their latest car video, but filming ran late after the camera malfunctioned. So Matt shows up to your date forty minutes late to find you sitting on a park bench outside of the restaurant, arms crossed over your chest.

A light drizzle fell from the sky, dampening your hair and satin dress. Matt hurriedly shuffles over to the bench where you’re seated and frowns when he sees that you’re definitely not happy with him.

“Look who decided to show up,” you quip with a not-so-happy expression on your face.

“I’m sorry,” Matt says, sympathy laced in his expression. You nod, accepting his candor, and wrap your arms around his neck, placing a quick kiss on his lips before speaking. “We lost our dinner reservation,” you say and purse your lips slightly.

Matt nods with a sigh, “Why didn’t you just wait at the table?”

You laugh dryly. “Alone - looking like I got stood up for forty minutes? No thanks.”

Matt smiles accordingly - he loves your witty remarks. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, kissing your forehead. You giggle lightly as his hands rub your hips, feeling butterflies arise in your stomach because you know he hates P.D.A., but he’s touchy like there’s nothing more important than you.

“You’re forgiven,” you say, giving him one more long peck on the lips before pulling back.

You stand silently for a moment before Matt speaks, “I heard a nice ice cream shop opened up a block from here. Want to go?” he questions, looking forward to your response.

You raise a brow, “Ice cream before dinner? You know me so well.”

The second you and Matt enter the shop, a gasp is elicited from the other side of the room, followed by a couple of gaping stares from what looks to be a group of fifteen-year-olds, and an, “Oh my god, is that Matt Sturniolo?”

Matt doesn’t notice this as quickly as you do and makes his way to the front desk, ordering for both you and himself before he’s bombarded with requests for photos. You stand back as he obliges, taking selfie after selfie with awestruck girls. You can’t say it happens a lot, but there have been a definite one or two times, meaning you had a “routine” for the situation; that being, awkwardly waiting in whatever corner of the room you were in for the fangirls to clear.

The clerk holds two cups of ice cream in hand and scoots them over the counter. You recognize them as the flavors Matt ordered and go to pick them up, though, not avoiding the “Matt” that falls from the clerk's tongue, signaling that the orders are ready. You thank the man, grabbing two spoons before taking the two cups of ice cream.

“Um, Mr. Sturniolo,” a girl coughs out, awkwardly tapping Matt's shoulder. Matt lets out an acknowledging hum, and the girl points to you. “That girl took your ice cream,” she says.

Matt laughs, pointing a smile at you. “That’s Nick's friend,” he says with nonchalance, “She’s just grabbing it for me.”

Your stomach drops. You knew he was just saying it because your relationship was off the media, but Nick's friend? He couldn’t have gone as far as to say you were his friend?

Matt finishes taking photos and walks towards the door where you are standing. You pivot to walk out the second he’s next to you, handing him his cup of ice cream and opening the door without a word. Matt doesn’t pick up on your mood change. “It’s so cool to run into fans,” he smiles, “It’s still weird to me, and did you hear how she called me Mr. Sturniolo? That was hilarious,” Matt gushes, spooning a generous amount of ice cream into his mouth.

You nod, giving him a dry, “Yeah,” before stepping past the shop’s awning, momentarily forgetting it was raining. You're snapped back to reality when a large raindrop falls directly on your forehead, dripping down your nose.

“Is your car close?” You ask. Matt nods.

༯ ༯ ༯

“Will you ever want to go public?” You ask once you're situated in the car, strapping your seatbelt over your torso as you speak.

Matt pauses for a second before he speaks, giving you time to get used to the pattering of rain on the windshield. “Maybe,” he mutters, with no clarity in his answer whatsoever.

“I just think we should revisit the conversation, Matt. I don’t want to always have to act like one of your ‘bros,’” you press, looking at him intently. Your harsh expression doesn’t waver when he speaks.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Y/N.”

Your heart aches, but you continue. “You never want to talk about this, Matt.”

Matt grips the steering wheel harder, and his knuckles turn white where the most pressure is applied. “You're getting on my nerves," he spits, looking not at you, but at the road.

“Matt…”

“Stop,” he grits his teeth, “just shut up! I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it.”

Your jaw tightens with anger. “I don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it, Matthew. You’re acting like a child. You have six - six million followers! And I have to act like I'm some celebrity hiding from the paparazzi because you can’t deal with the fact that you have a girlfriend who wants to be seen with you?”

This is a blow to Matt’s confidence, and he takes it as an insult to both his career and him. “You’re unreasonable,” Matt mutters, taking a harsh breath.

“Are you kidding me? You’re the only unreasonable one here, Matthew,” you spit, throwing your hands down against your thighs in frustration.

Matt doesn't respond to this. The only sounds in the car are the acceleration of the engine and the occasional clicking of the blinkers.

You sit in silence for minutes before your anxiousness has you spitting out a question. “Are you embarrassed of me?”

Matt shakes his head ‘No,’ but he’s still angry. “It’s not a big deal if we’re public if we’re both happy in this relationship,” he says with a sternness in his voice that says don’t push it.

“But-“

“But? Are you not happy?” Matt raises a brow with a question.

“Obviously I'm not happy, Matt! I’m not your fuck buddy; I’m your girlfriend. I shouldn’t have to act like I’m in the shadows all the time. I don’t want to be in your videos or anything! I just want you to acknowledge me as your girlfriend!” you claim lightly, your voice emotionally raising in pitch because everything you say, Matt ignores.

Matt ignores this too, further frustrating you. You know he’s paying attention to your words too, because of the way his face changes and the way his grip on the steering wheel is constantly tight.

He doesn’t respond, just lets out a deep sigh.

You feel a wave of emotions crashing over you, hitting you like a bus, and a fat tear rolls down your cheek in silence.

Matt notices this.

“Y/N…” he moves his hand from the steering wheel to your thigh, rubbing up and down soothingly while keeping his other hand occupied with steering.

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me now,” you say, voice wobbling with emotion.

“Look, I’m sorry-“

��Can we go public?”

“Y/N,”

You cut him off, “Then you're not sorry.”

“That’s not fair.”

The argument is futile. Both of you know this, so you don’t continue because the streetlights start blurring in your eyes and the stereo becomes too much, making your chest tight with emotion.

You don’t want to be in the car anymore. The car with him.

“Matt let me out,” you say, feeling the car come to a halt at a stoplight. “What are you on about?” Matt questions, gritting his teeth, leaning back momentarily against the car’s seat.

“I don’t want to be in here with you anymore,” your voice wavers.

“It’s raining, Y/N.”

“Let me out.”

Matt begrudgingly complies, clicking the locked door open. You snap your seatbelt off and step out of the car, immediately feeling the wetness of rain droplets against your head. You walk out of the road, heels clanking on the pavement as you do so.

When the stoplight turns green, you watch Matt drive away. It’s not his fault, you try to tell yourself. You insisted on getting out. But still, your emotions overtake your mind, and inevitable tears slip from your eyes.

You wish you and Matt didn’t argue. No. You wish you had his jacket, but also that you didn’t fight. So instead of standing still, you start your trek to your apartment. A twenty-minute walk in your not-so-impervious satin dress.

༯ ༯ ༯

When you get home, the sadness hits you. Was the argument worth it? What if he’s so mad he breaks up with you?

Your negative thoughts only have you crying harder, so you trek to your room, strip off your rain-ridden clothes, and take a warm shower, washing the salt of rain off your body as you tremble with sobs.

You shower for far too long, running your hands through your wet hair as a silky comfort and washing the repentance of the day off your physical form. Not your mental form.

When you step out of the shower, the tile is cold. You throw on a robe and make a beeline for your dresser where you left your phone, needing to talk to Matt.

To Matt Sturniolo: I’m sorry for getting mad

To Matt Sturniolo: I miss you

To Matt Sturniolo: I’m sorry I’m not mad anymore

You take a second, typing anxiously as you wait for his read receipt to show up. When it does, he texts back instantaneously.

From Matt Sturniolo: Are you okay? I’m coming over.

Matt’s at yours in minutes, shortening the drive after making half a dozen illegal turns.

You’re waiting at the door when he knocks, opening the front before his fist can meet the door a second time. When the door creaks open, you're met with a wet, worried Matt. His hair is damp, clinging to his forehead after only the walk from the parking lot to your door. His eyes scan your body as you awkwardly stand in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice sad. Matt takes note of this and steps closer to you, closing your apartment door behind you and pulling you into his chest.

He runs a thumb over your cheek, wiping off the remnants of stray tears, and sighs, feeling your heartbeat against his chest.

“It's not your fault, baby. I was being a dick,” Matt says apologetically. You wrap your arms tightly around his waist, embracing yourself in the hug and sniffling against him.

“I am happy in our relationship. I lied,” you mutter.

“I know, but you could be happier,” Matt hums, pulling away from the hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling his phone out. He swipes for a bit before turning it to you.

“You like this picture?” he asks. It's a picture of both of your eyes that you’d taken in a moment of pure happiness, right after you’d complimented how his irises looked in the sun. You nod, unsure of what he’s doing but smile out a ‘yeah.’

He’s on his phone for another two minutes before he clicks it off. “Check my Instagram,” he says. You pull your phone out of your back pocket and open the app, viewing Matt's most recent post.

From Matt Sturniolo:

[imaginesmai]

Right around the corner - Azriel (5)

AHHHHH this is the final part and let me tell you I'm SAD. It was so hard to write the ending you all deserve after all this love, so I tried my best. Let me know what you think! Also, you deserve A LOT, so I made it long hehehe. Don't worry, a request about the RATH universe is coming soon! If you want one too, drop it in my inbox!

(1), (2), (3), (4)

Plot: The story of how Azriel fixed what was broken, and how you forgave him.

Warnings: this is sad, but has a happy ending! Also, mental health issues.

No one expected the sidra to froze that year, and against everyone expectation, one day Velaris had woken up to see the riven covered by a silver layer. Children had missed school to skate in the solid surface, parents watching carefully from the edge. Some couples were skating too, holding hands and giggling endlessly.

You had been watching the new scene unfold all morning. And while you usually loved snow and ice as much as any child in town, you were starting to get a little sick of all the noise.

It wasn’t your new employee situation, who had been staring at the river all morning. She had already finished her duties, but always the polite and nice girl, Elain Archeron was keeping you company.

When you spotted for the third time the familiar red-head through the glass and she didn’t say anything, just sighed, you decided you had enough.

“You should tell him to get in before he freezes to death” you commented, still busy with measuring the ingredients.

“Oh, no” Elain blushed and looked away from the window. “No. He’s just… He can wait”

“He can, but doesn’t have to. You and Lucien should head out, rent ice skates and have a fun day. You already finished here” you smiled kindly at her, and before she could reply, you added. “I’m fine, I don’t even like cold weather. And I still need to finish this, which you can’t help me with. So, go”

Elain stared at you with uncertainty, and you tried to look as convinced as possible. Would you have liked her to stay? After all, she was one of the few people you socialized with these days. She had turned in when you opened the bakery again, right after you posted the sign about looking for a new partner.

And even if you had had your doubts when you discovered she was Feyre’s sister and Azriel’s friend, you considered her your own friend.

So, yeah, you would have liked her to stay. Because you were still awfully sad all the time, and her company was one of the few things that made your day better. But you being sad didn’t excuse her missing a wonderful day with her mate.

“It’s not closing time yet” her eyes danced between the glass and you. “He was supposed to wait for me at the house”

“Guess he’s too eager to see you. He’s been dancing around the bakery for a good hour” you chuckled. “Elain, I mean it. Go. Have fun. I’ll see you on Monday”

“Y/N, I promise I don’t mind waiting. It’s not like it will unfreeze”

“And I promise I don’t mind at all. So, go, have fun and tell me about it on Monday” you gripped her hand softly over the counter, nodding to the waiting mal outside. “Come on, go”

Lucien was once more outside the bakery, the only visible part of him his red hair. He was covered in thick layers, but still managed to smile when Elain kissed your cheek and took her coat on the way out.

You didn’t have it in you to watch them be affectionate with each other, so you looked down at your task and decided it would be the last of the day.

It was hard watching all those couples walking hand in hand and remembering the feel of his warm, scarred hand in yours. To hear a man laughing and remember the unexpected laughs you dragged out of him sometimes. Even looking at the river was painful, because you could almost see the ghost of Azriel and you learning how to skate in a frozen lake in the Illyrian mountains a few years ago.

You had seen Azriel around a few times now, walking through your bakery and waving at you through the glass. Two times he had been waiting at the door when it was late at night, silently walking you home from afar without talking. Almost two months had passed by and your feelings were still as messed up as before.

Though you didn’t cry as much as before, and you were starting to get better, you still wondered.

If Azriel getting help would mean your relationship would be fixed, or if it was broken permanently. Deep in your thoughts, and used as you were to Azriel’s shadows, you didn’t notice how they tugged on your apron until the door sounded again.

Elain’s name didn’t leave your lips, because as soon as the door opened, you lost your breath.  As if you had summoned him, Azriel walked through the door, beautiful as ever. He wasn’t in his usual training leather, but winter clothes that fit him as a glove. Instantly, you noticed he had lost weight. His shoulders were slumped and his body didn’t carry the usual grace of an Illyrian warrior.

“Hi”

His scarred hands, that had held you so many times and slaughtered so many enemies, were tucked in his coat’s pockets. You could feel the nervousness through the bond, the hesitance. Too stunned to answer, you only stared at him.

You had known that, eventually, he would talk to you. That you would have to do more than just wave at each other through the glass and stay silent when he sent you details through Elain. But still, you hadn’t expected it.

Unable to move, you only blinked.

“I saw Elain and Lucien heading out” he added, not looking away from you. “It’s a nice day outside”

Azriel hadn’t finished before one of his new shadows scaped his control, sneaking around the counter. The familiar ones, that had been by your side since he left, danced around the new intrusion. It lifted your apron, and crawled up your neck.

The cool feeling was the last of your worries, because no matter how much you willed yourself to say something, you couldn’t even tear your eyes from him.

The bond flickered between the two of you, once more. Knowing that it was one-sided, that he didn’t wear it like you did, made break your trance.

“She’s finished for the day” you explained, sounding way more confident that what you felt.

“It’s a nice day, yeah” he repeated, not giving you time to feel awkward before he continued “I thought that maybe you wanted to take a walk with me. It’s cold, but we could… get coffee. Or chocolate, if you want”

Azriel gave you a half, broken smile. Hearing his voice again made you take ten steps backward.

“I have things to do”

You looked down to your current task, which could be easily discarded. You had left much important things half-done because of him, and you would have done it normally without a second thoughts. But no matter how heartful the conversation at your door had been, you just knew you weren’t ready to have a conversation without getting angry.

You knew you weren’t ready to forgive him.

His new shadow gripped your wrist tightly before disappearing, and you heard Azriel’s doubt. He wanted to say something else, and you wanted too. Still, you fell back to your measuring and ignored the way your vision blurred, how your knees became weak again.

Maybe going back to your duties was the only way not to break down again.

The silence continued for a long minute. You couldn’t not feel his presence, the way his scent filled the bakery and made your stomach turn. Your heart recognized what you needed, what you wanted, and threatened to jump out of your chest.

Before you could regret your words, Azriel opened the door again.

“You’re forgetting the yeast” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

When you looked up again, he only smiled. You opened your mouth to tell him to wait, maybe to fuck off and never come again. You didn’t have time, because Azriel closed the door behind him and he was gone.

The first tear fell against the unformed dough, followed by many more. You wouldn’t be finishing the blueberry cake that afternoon, you realized, as you crunched behind the counter and cried.

-

There was a storm coming, and everyone in Velaris had had the same idea – run to the market, buy everything they needed for a few days, and crowd themselves at home with their loved ones. You were trying to follow the first part of the plan, not having anyone to go home anymore. And if that wasn’t enough reason to drag you down, the crowd was getting intense.

Velaris’ market was a beautiful place, full of shops and nice vendors. But that day, the space felt too small.

You already had a few bags with you, yet there were a few more to go. Wanting to finish as soon as possible, you had ignored the rational part of your brain and had gotten in the middle of the crowd. You had only managed to buy milk and pasta, and still had a long way to go.

After Azriel’s brief appearance, your life had been messier than before. He had come by the bakery at least five times more, always offering you some kind of plan you rejected. Going to the park, for a flight or to a coffee shop. Taking walks, watching the sunset or training together.

You lived now half-prepared to see him walking through your door again, and not having the heart to tell him no. You weren’t sure if that thought frightened or comforted you.

In your haste, you had almost forgotten to buy provisions for the storm, and had found yourself on the worst day to do them. Crowded, loud and suffocating, that was how you would describe the market at that moment.

The fact that most people ran with their children and family wasn’t helpful at all.

Most of the times, it was Azriel who did the last-minute shopping for you. He knew you didn’t like crowds, loud places, that you did best in your bakery where only five people were allowed at a time.

Another shove broke you down from your daydreaming, and you looked back to see a pregnant woman staring with her eyebrows furrowed.

“The line is moving” she spatted, pointing to the small space ahead of you. “If you don’t move with it, you should step out”

“Oh, no” you chuckled softly. You picked up the bags on the ground and took the two small steps that you were supposed to. “Sorry, I just thought I could take a little bit more space. It’s crowded here”

“I don’t mind crowds, so if you want to step back, let me get first. I’m in a hurry”

“Me too” you gave her a polite smile, mindful of her state.

The short distance that separated you from the customer on the front was certainly not enough, and she knew it. Still, she looked at you with disapproval. There were only five more people to go until it was your turn, you could buy your snacks and run to the next stall.

You thought you could ignore the glare at the back of your neck, and you did for a few minutes. Without meaning to, you thought how everything with Azriel was easier. Not only people wouldn’t dare to talk to him like that, but also, he assured you a good meter of distance between you two and the rest of the world with his wings.

The snacks on your hands almost fell when, not even two seconds after the man took three steps forward, you were shoved again.

That time, when you looked back, the woman was accompanied by her mate. His wings covered her from the people behind them.

“You should really step out of the line” she repeated. “You might have all the time in the word, but we are in a hurry”

“Me too. You can’t expect me to be glued to that man” you tried to explain, anxiety coiling in your stomach. “He just moved”

“And you didn’t, which proves my point. Besides, it’s obvious you only have a few things. We have more”

“Which should be enough reason to let me go first, not only because I was here before you” you shrugged, feeling even more uncomfortable when the male huffed a laugh. “Maybe it’s you who shouldn’t have come here today if you can’t wait in a line”

You weren’t a threat for the woman, and you were trying really hard to be polite and prove your point. Besides, being pregnant wasn’t an easy task, and you could tell she was far along. Maybe you should have let her pass, or maybe told her to fuck off.

But before you could argue further, something clicked in the male’s eyes, wide with recognition.

And you would have preferred for him to go full berserk mode on you. Because you recognized that look, you had been receiving them for a while now.

The male elbowed the woman’s side softly, pointing with his chin towards you. You didn’t have time to turn back and avoid the conversation, because he spoke.

“You’re the shadowsinger’s mate” he announced, loud enough to make a few heads turn.

“Oh” the woman finally connected the dots and lunged forward to grab your arm so tight you couldn’t shake her off. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry” you pushed your arm back, trying to let go.

While the woman apologized, you couldn’t help but listen to the whispers. The same ones you had heard in your bakery and through the streets. Some of them thrown in your face by rude or nosy customers that didn’t understand the concept of privacy, others by bystanders.

At the end, it was the woman who said it out loud, confirming what everyone in the small circle that had formed at the cue was wondering about. She finally let go of your arm and crossed hers in front of her body.

The look of pity wasn’t as bad as the confirmation.

“He rejected you, right?” it wasn’t a question, not when you didn’t answer and she continued. “We heard you’ve been mated for almost a century and he doesn’t want the bond. Is that true?”

It wasn’t true, but you didn’t have the heart to correct her. Instead, you turned around and used your wing-less privileges to sneak through the crowd. You kept your head down, as if that could stop you from hearing the comments or feeling the stares.

People had come up with an alternative version where Azriel and you had been mated for decades, for centuries. Where you had cheated on him or he had changed you for someone else. You had even heard that he had bonded with another person and had kicked you out of the house, and that you had been the one rejecting the bond.

Each version was farthest from the truth than the last one, but they all hurt the same. The crowd didn’t seem to get thinner no matter how deep you got in the market. Once the people who had heard the conversation were left behind, new people crowded you, worried about the girl panicking and running through the middle of the market.

There were a few occasions where you thought you would fall, where you tripped and almost embarrassed yourself farther. You had almost made it to the back entrance of the market when you finally realized you were tripping no more. There was no longer a crowd around you, nor whispers or hands reaching your way.

It took you another few steps to fully stop and assess the situation. When you looked back to see where the crowd was, you were met with a broad chest inches away from you. Through tearful eyes, you recognized Azriel’s wings tucking you away from people, his mere presence pushing them away.

You met his hazel eyes, full of worry and regret. His hair was longer, covering his brow, but you found comfort in his crooked nose, in his freckles, that you knew so well.

You noticed in his hands your bags that had been left in the stall, a new one with the snacks you were about to buy.

“What – what are you doing here?” you choked out, too grateful for the sudden moment of peace to wonder about anything else.

“I felt you through the bond, a few hours ago. Anxious and…” he stopped himself, his eyes scanning every tear that marked your cheeks. “I was just getting here when it got worse. I heard most of it. I’m –”

“Don’t say you’re sorry” you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault”

Out of the many things that were indeed his fault, people not minding their own business wasn’t his. You were used to him blaming himself for everything, from wars in other courts to people fighting in the street. The response came naturally.

Your nose was cold and runny, your hands frozen in your pockets, and your feet hurt. Besides all of that, you felt all wrong. Because you enjoyed his presence, because what they said, and because you couldn’t help but calm down when he was close.

Azriel didn’t say anything when you took the bags from his hands, thanking him quietly. He didn’t say anything as more people walked away from him, either because of his wings or because they recognized him.

“You don’t like last minute shopping”

It was a pointless observation, but it was better than to comment on how afraid he had been when, just outside the market, he felt the bond snap with urgence. His shadows knew where you were, and that you needed him, but even he had trouble running through crowds. Azriel also couldn’t talk about how mad he had been at everyone in that stall, how his new shadows had turned off every light and almost chocked them to death.

Azriel wanted to say that you were probably cold because you didn’t like your own coats, and most of the times wore one of his. He wanted to hug you, too, to feel you between his arms after what felt like an eternity and promise you that it would end well.

But he couldn’t say anything more than the obvious.

“I had to” you answered.

With a furious fist, frustrated at life, at him and at you, you brushed the tears off your cheeks. You could tell that he wanted to keep talking, and you did too. Since your last encounter, you had come up with more conversations you should have.

You stared at each other for what seemed forever. There were details that you had almost forgotten in your sorrow – like his long lashes, that you teased him about. Or the freckle that snuck up to the corner of his left eye. The way his mouth rose higher from the right, and the small scar on his ear from where Cassian dared him to wear an earring.

Only his face was enchanting enough to help you forget about the day, about the weight of your chest. It was the first closing call from the market, that sounded through the public speakers, that broke you away.

“I should go”

“I should go”

You talked at the same time, and you smiled softly when you pointed to different directions. You didn’t miss how his eyes fell to your mouth, how his own lifted up too.

“I could walk you back” he offered, not tearing his eyes away from your mouth. “If you let me”

You didn’t answer immediately. Those last words, that he had repeated so often lately, almost had you saying yes. You could almost imagine how it would go – him walking by your side, one of his wings behind your back. His elbow brushing yours, and his gaze fixed on you.

Your smile dropped when you remembered the times you had walked just like that, tucked together. The times you had waked by yourself through Velaris with his imprint on you, and the times he had left without a trace of your presence.

Azriel knew the answer before you said it, and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Sorry”

That time, you decided to turn away before he could. Taking the back exit was a poor choice, knowing it was farther from your house than the main one, but you couldn’t picture yourself walking through the market without Azriel keeping the crowds a step away.

So you turned around, gripped your bags tight and didn’t tear your eyes from the ground during the whole way back.

-

It wasn’t Azriel who found you the time everything changed, but you.

The cold and winter were over, the streets were clean and the sun was out. It was a perfect day to spend outside, and Elain seemed fixed in throwing you out of your own shop. She claimed that the bags under your eyes were as dark as the night, and that your skin was so pale that she couldn’t tell the flour stains apart from it.

“Just for the record, you’re kicking the owner of the bakery out of the bakery” you stated, looking at her once more from the door. “You do realize that shouldn’t happen, right?”

“I’m helping a friend come out of her ghost-like season” she replied, still decorating muffins. “And you do realize that most shops close on Sunday’s, right?”

“Certainly not a bakery” you looked to the empty fountain at her right. “If we do it together, we will – “

“If you touch one single item of this bakery, I’m banning you from the kitchen for a month”

You doubted she meant it, she could. But still, you sighed and turned around to open the door. You weren’t an extrovert, certainly not an outsider. Since you were a child, you liked your kitchen, your house, and your space. And none of those things were outside the door.

But you actually feared what the fae you left behind would do if you turned back. Elain had already hidden your apron so you couldn’t put it on, and had threatened to mismatch the soy milk with normal one.

Giving her a last, tight smile through the glass, you walked towards the center of Velaris.

Not many people were outside that soon on a Sunday morning, but you were glad for her insistence the moment the sun kissed your face. The cold weather was disappearing and you could feel warmth across your cheeks. It was still cold, and it would be for at least another week, but the change in the weather promised a happy spring.

You walked aimlessly around Velaris, stopping to watch the Sidra move every now and then. Your feet carried you through unfamiliar streets, all of them filled with colors and smells. The longer you walked, the healthier you felt. Each step felt like a weight lifted from your chest, and you even smiled to a few usuals you found in the streets.

The main square peeked through the streets. It wasn’t your usual destination, too crowded and not as pretty as other parts of the town. But you still walked through it, feeling at ease and happy.

It had happened before, usually the days before you started your cycle, and you should have known the feeling of ease had nothing to do with the weather or the walk. It had happened and it happened again, just as you rounded a corner to walk in the square.

If, by any chance, Azriel hadn’t noticed you coming, the shadows that tugged him away from where he was standing would have made it obvious.

His eyes widened when he saw you, and you felt that peaceful feeling making its home for the day. There was no sorrow, no sadness, and none of the usual feelings that lately you felt when it came to him.

You cursed yourself stupid when you realized that you cycle was coming, and that every year you were in a mood until Azriel showed up, your hormones demanding your mate.

“Y/N”

Your name fell from your mouth and just by hearing it you noticed something different. It was new, and at the same time, you thought you recognized it somehow. You looked to his empty hands, to the syphons on his shoulders and chest and truth-teller on his side.

It looked like you had interrupted something important to him. But instead of running away from him like the last two times, you took a step closer.

“Are you going on a mission?” you pointed with your chin to his leather, eyes stopping at his chest. There was that thing, that you couldn’t name.

“Just came back. I was…”

Azriel looked to the building he just exited and for a moment, in silence. You had met a bunch of times since the incident in the market, and you had started having longer conversations. About the weather, about your bakery, and even about his family, who you finally knew officially.

Certainly, your relationship had improved, although it wasn’t just fixed yet. When he didn’t answer, you were reminded of all the times he had kept things to himself, either out of fear or doubt.

He seemed to doubt between telling you and keeping it to himself. Any other time, you knew, he would have kept it to himself. He had done it, in the past – when you asked him about his job, or tried to understand his past. Many times where he had evaded the truth or his emotions.

Your mood, that had been in a rush since you left the bakery, fell a little at his silence. He looked torn and you were ready to leave, before he answered.

“This is Madja’s house. I meet her here so we can talk, usually during the week” he looked back at you, watching the surprise of his statement. “But something happened and I needed to talk to her”

“What happened?”

Azriel’s lips were pressed tight, debating on whether he should tell you or not. He wouldn’t have doubted about it a year ago – he wouldn’t tell you, because in his eyes, it would only hurt you more than he already had. But he had learnt new things, and had realized that a relationship was built on trust. And that his fears, his perception of the reality, had broken yours.

He had cut the mission short when he had noticed, though he wasn’t sure he had ever done something like that. Azriel didn’t know what had triggered it, why it happened in the Winter court and not anytime sooner.

Madja, of course, had had an answer ready – an answer that had left him staring at her door for long twenty minutes before you appeared.

“Kallias should have sent something to Rhysand, but he didn’t” he started, not sure why he was traveling so far from the event. “So I went to check. Turns out someone must have taken it and, well, I tried to…”

He trailed off before he could finish, aware of your confusion. You never talked about what he did for Rhysand, in any court. No matter how big or small was the assignment, he didn’t tell you about it.

But that wasn’t what your confusion was about, at least not all of it. You couldn’t possibly notice because you had given it for granted since the beginning, but Azriel did notice. He noticed the change as soon as it happened, and babbled when he explained to Rhysand what he should have been feeling for years.

Had explained to Madja moments ago, who had given him a knowing smile and a proud nod.

“I accepted the bond” he confessed, continuing before you could say anything else. “I don’t know how, or why, but I was there and suddenly I was hit with – with this in my chest, and I don’t know why it wouldn’t happen sooner”

“You accepted the bond” you repeated, looking between his chest and face.

“I don’t know how, or why now. I was, thinking… And it hit me” Azriel smiled sadly, not saying what his thoughts were about – what they had been about since that night. “I didn’t want to tell you, because, this is, you don’t have to do anything now. Me accepting the bond doesn’t change what I did”

Azriel hadn’t meant to tell you, neither to be so vague and ridiculously nervous about it.

It had been a surprise when, in the middle of a conversation, he felt it. He had been thinking about you, because there were flowers and they were pretty against the cold weather, and to him, you were the prettiest thing the Cauldron had made. One moment Kallias had been going through the last movements of the package and the next the high lord was looking at him with raised brows.

Congratulating him for something that should have happened six years ago.

“It’s not that I didn’t want the bond before, Y/N” he continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise you, I didn’t know how to accept it. I didn’t know that I deserved it”

Azriel had thought, and he still wanted to, that you so pretty that you were meant for someone else. That it was borrowed time, that he didn’t deserve the bond just as he didn’t deserve you. With Madja and Rhys, they had had deep conversations about his mental health, about his version of life where he lived through a glass of pain and rejection.

As he stared at your surprised form, he tried not to let hope leak into his heart. He knew it didn’t fix what was broken, but he hoped it was the first step of a long recovery to win you back.

Only if you could confirm or deny, instead of stare at him.

“Say something” Azriel finally broke, almost begged. “Whatever you want. Just say something”

And you wanted to, because wasn’t that what you had wanted? You had fooled yourself lately thinking about may what ifs. What if he had accepted the bond in the bagging, what if he had told you that he wasn’t fine, that he was broken and needed help.

What if you had helped him and not rushed things when he wasn’t ready. Now, it felt like the Cauldron was giving you that opportunity, only that you didn’t know how to react.

You finally looked away from him and decided to give an experimental tug on the bond, to see if anything had changed.

It had.

“Az”

It was a chuckle, maybe the beginning of a cry. It was anger but also relief because what came back from that tug wasn’t what you usually felt. It was stronger, solid, as if there was a physical string between your bodies that kept you linked.

Usually, it was just an intense feeling that was enough for you. But now that you felt him tugging back, felt him loving you, you couldn’t hold back another laugh. He shoved down through it everything he felt – adoration, love, joy. Many fears that had you stumbling towards him, and pain.

So much pain that your smile dropped. His dropped too, and you felt the bond getting fainter.

“That’s another reason. I didn’t want you to feel… that” Azriel retreated the bond farther. “I have so many fears and pains here that I couldn’t even imagine sharing them with you. And that – “

“You don’t have to feel ashamed” you cut him off, your voice hoarse. “I love you the same”

Words were unnecessary when you hugged his middle and buried yourself in his chest. He curled around you, like he had done so many times.

The channel snapped open again, and you just closed your eyes tightly. It was an endless source of emotions, and it broke you that most of them were bad. There was rejection, from so many people that it felt like an angry, black bull coming your way. Sadness that felt overwhelming and never ending, always coming in waves when Azriel didn’t expect it.

You also felt disgust, and you only held him tighter when you discovered it was self-disgust. Not only at the things that he had done, but also at what had been done to him. The scars on his hands, the shadows around him. He had hated himself for so long he had forgotten how to love.

But then, at the bottom, there was something bright, and that part you realized it was only dedicated to you. There was his family too, but it wasn’t as intense as his love for you. Everything that he lacked during his life, that he yearned for, was tucked where it mattered the most.

“I love you” he whispered against your head, softly. “I love you”

You didn’t answer, just raised your head until you could brush your lips against him. Later, you would have time to blame the cycle, which you wouldn’t get for another two months, or the emotions of the moment. But you knew it was just what you needed, what you both deserved, when you felt him kissing back.

At the beginning, it was just his lips against yours, and it was enough. Your noses brushed each other, you got on your tiptoes and his wing cocooned both of you. His hands only pressed you tighter against his body when you moved your lips against his, brushing the edge of your tongue against his bottom one.

Azriel could barely keep himself straight when you silently asked for permission to open his mouth, which he happily obliged.  

From that moment, it was crashing. The kiss was only a physical proof of your feelings traveling through the mated bond, so wild and intense you couldn’t tell which one was his or yours.

“I’m sorry, darling” he whispered against your lips, giving you no time to reply. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for being a coward. I’m sorry”

“I forgive you. We don’t keep secrets anymore” you managed to say between kisses.

“Never” Azriel answered while leaving kisses on your cheeks and nose.”

“And we’ll talk about our emotions, and feelings. You’ll tell me about your life when I ask”

“Always”

“You won’t close off to me” you pulled his head away and made him look at you.

While you held his face between your hands, Azriel smiled. It was a different smile from the previous ones, from the ones you had seen so far. It was carefree, loving, and yours.

Your thumb brushed the corner of his eye, his upper cheek, the border of his nose.

“I’m here, Azriel. Always. So you don’t have to hide anything from me, or to be ashamed or afraid. I’m here” you closed the distance once more, controlling the kiss by holding onto his face. “Right around the corner”

“Right around the corner” he repeated, dipping his head and sealing all his promises with another kiss.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @wallacewillow0773638 @clara-geekhime @kalulakunundrum @saltedcoffeescotch @originalcrusadetrash @mel-wcst @ailyr92 @bubybubsters @chickensrock3 @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @wallacewillow0773638 @just-m-2 @theravenphoenix26 @glitterypirateduck @a-frog-with-a-laptop @justdreamstars

[xiaq]

Thanks for all the prompts! I combined a few: Outsider POV, getting together with the help of friends, Steve Harrington is an Idiot (affectionate), Rocky Horror, and “did we almost just kiss?”

“Robin,” Steve says, before he’s even fully in the Family Video door. “I’m having a crisis.”

She shoves another VHS tape into the rewinder. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” He whines, collapsing face-first onto the counter.

“I mean no. I don’t have time for a crisis right now. We just finished a crisis and I require at least fifteen business days between crises. I do not have the bandwidth.”

“It’s not like a crisis, crisis,” he mutters. “It’s…a personal crisis.”

She flicks the side of his head. “What is the nature of this personal crisis?”

He rolls his face so his cheek is pressed to the laminate. He meets her eyes. “How did you know you liked girls?”

“Oh,” Robin says. The tape rewinder clicks but she doesn’t move. “Oh. Yeah, we can handle this crisis now. It’s long overdue.”

“Long over—” Steve straightens, weight on his elbows. “What?”

“Honestly I thought we were going to have this conversation during the whole Rocky Horror Picture Show thing but––”

“Robin”

“Sorry. Right. I knew I liked girls because I liked girls. I knew I liked girls because I wanted to kiss girls.”

“Yeah. But how did you know it was more than the normal amount?”

“…the normal amount,” she repeats.

“Well sure,” he scrubs a hand through his hair. “Everyone wants to kiss everyone a little bit, right? Like. How did you know it was more than the normal heterosexual amount?”

Robin cannot believe she’s going to have to say this out loud. She glances around the empty store just to make sure no one has somehow teleported in during the last two minutes.

“Steve. Steven. There is no normal heterosexual amount of wanting to kiss people of the same gender.”

He crosses his arms. “Well, that can’t be right.”

“Hold on. Wait. What boys have you wanted to kiss?” She can guess, but confirmation would be nice.

“Are you sure that––”

“Yes, I’m sure. But back to the boys you’ve wanted to kiss. Have you…acted on that, ever?

“Yeah but just the––oh. Well. You’re probably going to say there isn’t a normal heterosexual amount of kissing the same gender either.”

“How are you this stupid.”

“I mean, everyone messes around with their friends at some point, right?”

“I desperately wish that was true,” Robin answers. “Because if it was, I would not be standing here at 19 years old finding out that Steve Harrington has kissed a boy before I kissed a girl. Jesus. Wait. How many boys have you kissed?”

“Three?”

“Three? Unbelievable.”

Except now he’s wearing his big-eyed, floppy-haired sad expression and she knows, she knows she’s not handling this the way she should.

Robin sighs. “Ok, I’m sorry. Thank you for trusting me with this. I love you and I’m here for you and it sounds like you’re bisexual. Which is actually pretty cool because that means I know two whole queer people other than myself in Hawkins. Well. Probably three. But that hasn’t been officially confirmed.”

“Bi-sexual.” He rolls the word around in his mouth like he’s tasting it. “Bisexual. Huh. Okay.”

“It means you like both. Or, any, I guess. Which no, is not normal for everyone.”

“Okay. Bisexual. Neat. Who else do you know?”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Right. That would be super uncool of you to tell me without their permission. But, um. Are they people I know?”

“They’re people you know.”

“Are they over the age of 16?”

“One of them is.”

The hopeful look on Steve’s face is actually a little gross.

“Are they–”

“Eddie!” Robin says, “hey, what are you doing here so early?”

Steve’s reaction to Eddie pushing open the door provides all the confirmation she needs about which boy Steve currently wants to kiss. Not that there was a lot of uncertainty there anyway. He’d practically kept vigil at Eddie’s bedside while he was in the hospital and in the last month since Eddie was released, they’ve become weirdly inseparable. Half the time when Robin calls in the middle of the night to talk though her nightmares, it’s Eddie answering the Harrington phone. And when no one answers the Harrington phone, a call to the Munson phone will usually do the trick. She’s tempted to think they’re already together except Eddie’s pining has only gotten worse over the last week. If they were banging he’s be less insufferable. Well. He might still be insufferable but in like, a happy, well-fucked way. She doesn’t want to think about that.

“Eddie,” Steve says, “hi.”

“...hi,” Eddie says, understandably confused by Steve’s strangled greeting. He rocks back and forth on his heels, hands shoved in the pockets of a pair of black jeans that are, for once, not ripped. “So. Big news.” He spreads his arms. “You are now looking at a gainfully, legally, employed, upstanding citizen of Hawkins.”

Robin isn’t really surprised. The owner of the auto shop across the street that Eddie applied to is friends with Wayne and a regular at Hideout. If there’s anyone who’s willing to look past Eddie’s poor reputation, it’s him. And Eddie had gotten some sort of automotive certificate the year before in shop class. One of the few things he’d passed with flying colors.

“Oh my god,” Steve says. He stumbles over to hug him and then twirls him around like they’re in one of the stupid romcom videos on the back wall. “Eddie,” Steve says again, this time so overwhelmingly full of tenderness that Robin feels like she’s intruding despite the fact that she’s, you know, standing behind the counter of her own place of work. 

“Congratuations,” Steve continues. He’s set Eddie down again but they’re still so close, arms tangled together, that he’s practically speaking the words into Eddie’s mouth. “When do you start?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. Eddie seems to have misplaced his self-awareness because he’s swaying forward, through the scant space left between them, and oh my God, Robin is going to have to do something or they’re definitely going to have their first kiss in the Family Video with her watching.

Robin slams the clamshell case on the Aristocats return she’d just rewound. They jump apart, looking dazed. Steve runs a hand through his hair. Eddie plays with his rings. Even though they’re no longer touching, they’re still looking at each other with the kind of naked affection that could get them in trouble if they’re not careful. Well. More trouble. 

“Eddie, that’s awesome,” Robin says brightly. “When do you start?”

“Oh. Monday, actually.”

“That’s great. You and Steve should celebrate tonight.”

“We…should.” Eddie agrees.

“I have plans. Important plans. That I can’t miss. But Steve was just telling me that he wanted to watch Rocky Horror again, right Steve?”

“I–yes?”

“And you like Rocky Horror, right Eddie?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “I do.”

“Great.”

She gives Steve a significant look.

“I’ll come to your place with the movie once I’m off?” Steve suggests to Eddie.

Eddie nods slowly. “Yes. Cool. Cool cool cool. I’ll get pizza. And see you then.” He salutes for some ungodly reason but Steve salutes him back like that’s a normal thing to do and they grin at each other as Eddie walks backward toward the door.

Idiots.

God, she loves them so much.

Steve waits until the van has pulled out of the parking lot to resume his face-down position on the counter.

She goes back to rewinding tapes.

She waits.

“Did we almost just kiss?” he asks finally. “In the Family Video.”

“Sure looked like it,” Robin says. “Which is not advisable. I feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

“Yeah, obviously, but that means…if I try to kiss him tonight he’d probably go for it, right?”

“Only one way to find out,” Robin sighs.

Except she already knows that tomorrow morning Steve Harrington will have kissed four boys and she still has yet to kiss a single girl. 

Unbelievable.

Steve sits up with sudden purpose. “I am. I’m going to kiss him tonight.”

“Great. Super happy for you. Can you help me rewind some tapes until then?”

Already working on PT. 2 which is Wayne’s POV when he accidentally intrudes on their celebration that night. So. Stay tuned for that.

Pt. 2 is Here.

[agirlwhodreamsandwishes]

Night in Velaris

Azriel x Reader

Summary: While going for the first time to a ball in Velaris, you met Azriel, with whom you feel an instant connection.

a/n. Hi! My second fanfic is here, it’s exciting :)! I would really appreciate if you tell me if you liked and your opinions about it! I hope I don't dissapoint anyone! Any advice would be appreciated. And please, remember English is not my first language.

Word count: 1k

Velaris was the most beautiful city you’ve ever seen. You wonder why in your five hundred years this was the first time you saw it, but then you remember how your family treated you, never allowing you to pursue your dream of traveling all Prythian. When you could, you left your family house and started visiting as many places as you could. That’s why you were now in that city on the Night Court, and you couldn't stop looking at everything around you. It was astonishing. You met some people there and they were all very nice to you; you felt really comfortable there. Almost like you could stay there for your whole life, you think.

“Hey, Y/N! Why don’t you go with us tonight?” The girls you’d met earlier were talking about a ball hosted by the High Lord and the High Lady. They were really nice and you were comfortable around them, so you thought about saying yes.

“I’d love to go, but what am I gonna wear? I don’t have any fancy dresses with me! Also… I’m not from this Court… are you sure it wouldn’t be a problem?” You started feeling sad because you already pictured how beautiful it had to be. The place, the dresses… you already had all in your mind.

“Leave the dress to us! And no, no problem. You’re in Velaris now, you have to come! Please?” You laughed and decided to go. You trusted them and you wanted to experience a ball here!

Everything was better than you could imagine. The dress? The most beautiful dress you had ever seen. The place? Magnificent. And the atmosphere? Indescribable. Your friends had helped you get ready for the ball, and you all had an amazing time doing it. You’ll miss this place and those girls when you leave, you thought to yourself. You almost want to cry at the thought. It’s the first time you get so attached to a place and to the people you’ve met.

The music started, you started dancing with your friends, having the most fun you’ve ever had. Suddenly you feel someone staring at you, but you didn’t know who it was. The night continued with you having fun and feeling that stare on you all the time. 

You needed a rest, too much dancing! You saw a free chair and you sat there, hoping for a little rest. You started looking around, looking at the people dancing and having fun. That’s when you saw him. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, sitting in the opposite corner of the place, looking at you. You stand up, realizing it was him the one looking at you all night. You feel like you have to talk to him, so that’s what you do. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You smiled as you talked to him. He stared at you, like if he couldn’t talk. After what felt like an eternity, he answered. “Hi, Y/N, I’m Azriel.” You didn’t know who he was, having in mind the fact that you weren’t from that Court. He smiled, and you thought you were dead. It was the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen, you could look at him for as long as the Mother wanted. 

You two started talking about everything and anything, your friends and dancing quickly forgotten. The conversation flew like you knew each other forever. He told you about his family, his two brothers and their mates. You told him about your family and how you decided it was time to grow apart. You shared interests with him, and it seemed you had a lot in common. The night was almost finishing, but you didn’t want to leave, you didn’t want to get away from Azriel. 

You saw your friends waving at you, a signal that they were leaving. “So… I should go… Those are my friends and I came here with them.” “Oh, I see…” He looked almost… sad, like if he didn’t want you to leave. And you felt the same. You looked at him as if it was the last time that you were going to see him before saying goodbye and turned around, ready to leave with your friends. 

“Wait!” You turned around and  saw him staring at you, nervous, like if he didn’t know how to tell you something. “I… I would like to see you again. If you want, of course.” He was blushing, avoiding your gaze, fearing the rejection. He wanted to see you again. He wanted to see you again!!! “Yes!! I mean, yeah, sure.” It was your time to blush. He chuckled and looked at you, with hope in his eyes. 

“So… I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6pm? Is that okay?” You were surprised. Did he really want to see you that soon? You smiled and nodded, telling him where you were staying. You looked at him, again, not wanting to leave. You looked back at your friends, who were looking at you, shocked that you were talking to the Shadowsinger himself.

“Well… goodbye, Azriel!” You kissed his cheek and ran away to your friends before he could say or do something. He couldn’t believe what just happened, but he wasn’t going to complain. In fact, he would replay that innocent kiss again and again in his mind until he saw you again. Azriel thought he couldn’t erase your beautiful face from his mind even if he was tortured. 

When you arrive at your friends, blushing and giggling, they keep staring at you with eyes wide open. “What?” You start worrying; you don’t understand anything. “Was he one of your exes? Is he a bad person? Girls, what’s going on?!” 

“Y/N, you really don’t know who he is?” One of them asks, and you try to think if you remember him from somewhere. “No?” You even question yourself. 

They look at each other, shocked, and then start to laugh. “Y/N, he is Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. The high’s lord brother.” You opened your eyes. “You’re joking, right? Oh my god! I probably embarrassed myself! Oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD!” You were definitely panicking. You looked back to where he was only to discover he was looking at you too and smiling. That instantly calmed you.

“Girls, I have a date tomorrow”. You definitely didn’t plan to leave that Court in the nearest future.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Broken headsets

- Chan

Warning: A lot of Angst, slight violence?

Pairing: BangChan x reader.

Summary: where he snaps at you while working.

!Not proofread!

(This is just a trail story, I lost my first story that was actually good ☠️I’m probably going to delete this)

**

“Channie?” I call for him. My hands gently rubbing his back while playing with his hair. So soft and messy.

“Mhm” he replies softly. The sound of his fingers typing against the keyboard as his headsets sat around his neck. His brown curls fluffy and everywhere.

His silver hoops sitting perfectly on both his ears and his black shirt tight around his muscle making him look delicious.

“Baby you need to eat something. You’ve been on that computer ever since you got home.” I plead with him.

He needed to eat, he hadn’t eaten all day due to the busy schedule and lack of time on his plate. The mangers were on him 24/7 due to their comeback in a few weeks.

Comeback season meant no time for anything, no time for dates, no time for sitting around, no time for spending time with one another and I hated it. I hate it so much. It made me angry.

“Baby this is really important, I’ll be there in a second.” He quickly says not even bothering to look up.

“Chan you’ve been at it for the past 2 hours, you haven’t even looked at me.” I complain. Yes I wanted attention, shoot me!

“I’ll give you all the attention you want my love, just please let me finish this.”

Sadness fills my heart as I silently put the clothes inside the closet.

A ringing sound in my ear and a tight feeling in my throat.

I was trying not to cry. I refused to cry.

Chan was a workaholic, no doubt in that. His days consisted of waking up early in the morning to head to the JYP building and coming home very late only to do more work. Some nights he wouldn’t come home at all and he knew I didn’t like it so to make my happy, he sometimes would bring me with him to the studio but that was when he thought he wouldn’t be coming home.

Our conversations in the studio normally contained:

“Just 30 more minutes my love”

Or

“I’m almost done”

Or

“I promise this is the last thing.”

He loves his job and he puts 110% in it but that makes him lack in other areas. His health.

Some nights he doesn’t sleep, some days he forgets meals and other days his mental health is the worst but still he doesn’t care because he loves his Job. He loves the boys. He loves Stay.

“Fine.” I sigh. One minute meant 1 hours at this point. I quietly leave the room closing the door behind me. Leaving him in his little world.

The cold tiles sending a shiver up my spine as I walked down the corridor.

“What am I going to do with you Channie?” I whisper to myself while packing up the food.

The dishes in the sink waiting for me to touch them while the laundry basket sat in the living room waiting for me to fold the messy clothes in them.

The house was quiet. The A.C hitting my skin with cold air as I sit on the floor and start folding the clothes one by one.

Berry by my side watching me.

Our apartment wasn’t big but it was huge for two people.

Some days it was a real big hustle to keep everything clean especially when they boys stay over but other days it wasn’t hard to maintain with the help of Chan.

“What am I going to do with your dad Berry?” I sigh again looking at the dog who seemed to be care free.

I grabbed the last set of clothes and walked over to the room. Chan’s back facing me. Not even noticing me in the room.

“Baby..” I call for him as I set down the clothes and start to load them into the closet.

“What Y/n?” He says a little harsh. I roll my eyes, frustration starting to build in my chest but I decide to be the bigger person and ignore his little attitude.

“Baby do you know what we’ll be doing for our 2 year anniversary?” I asked him trying to atleast have a conversation with him.

“I don’t know Y/n. You deal with it I don’t have time. Just tell me how much it is and when it is.”

“When it is?” I ask him obviously taken back.

“Ugh I didn’t mean when it is, I mean when you wanna do it.” He quickly corrects himself and rubs his temples with his fingers.

“Atleast act like you care Chan.” I tell him honestly.

“I’m not starting an argument with you right now so please can I get back to my work?”

“Chan why are you being like this?” Ignoring his request I decide to push because honestly I was tired of it.

“I’m not acting like anything I just want to finish my work in peace.”

“Chan you’re acting so selfish right now!” I say now slightly raising my voice.

“Y/n” he says firm and glaring over at me. What’s the worse he could possibly do?

“Just listen-“ I beg before I’m cut off.

“Y/n i said leave me alone!” His voice booms and the sound of breaking glass fills the room. My body freezes. Hands shaking.

The now broken headsets and mirror laying on the ground.

“Did you just throw that at me?” I ask him in disbelief.

“Babe-“ his body was stood up now and he was reaching out for me. His face filled with panic and guilt.

“Don’t.” I say getting away from his touch. The clothes that were once folded no scattered on the ground. Words refusing to come out of my mouth until I force myself to get up from the floor.

“I-I’m going to leave…” I say softly. My heart hurt and I hope he knew that. I felt the tears that were all built up from frustration, anger and hurt all start to flow down my cheeks.

When would he realize that being with him was starting to slowly ruin me?

**

Pt 2 ⬇️

[gucciwins]

one last message 

word count: 2.2k

a/n: love on tour has come to an end 😭 it seemed only fitting to say goodbye to it with a small blurb from the love on tour series , the story of harry styles and y/n belmonte. thank you for all the love you always give me and i hope this blurb is enough to put a smile on your face. i love you, friends 💜

+

You adjusted the camera as you had it leaning against the bathroom mirror. You had finished your skincare and knew tomorrow was a big night for Harry and the entire Love on tour crew. There was a lot up in the air for your career and what was next, but in the next twelve hours, all you could think about was your boyfriend. He would be saying goodbye to a tour he poured his heart into, but most importantly, he was stepping away from what he loved to take a well deserved break. Harry couldn’t stay away long; he’d be back. They all knew it was only a matter of when.

Harry was in bed; he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair and told him about your day. The pasta you made from scratch at the cooking lesson you found in a small neighborhood. It wasn’t advertised, but the chef took a liking to you when you asked him more about his favorite dishes. It seemed that was enough to grant you a special spot in Mr. Caruso’s kitchen. He tried to play off his nerves, but you knew him well enough that this final show would be one he wanted to remember forever.

Once you knew your phone wouldn’t fall, you pulled up Instagram and started a live. It’s been a while since you did one. Usually, you do an origami piece with your fans to catch up with them. Tonight would be a little different. You hadn’t been on for a minute, and the number was increasing by the second.

Twenty.

Five hundred.

Three thousand in under two minutes.

“Hi, everyone,” you greeted cheerfully. “Sorry, I haven’t done one of these in a while. Life has been busy.”

The comments began to flood with “hellos” and “I love you,” but also a lot of mentions of Barbie, the film you finished promoting and starred in. You moved past those comments and instead focused on one asking where you were.

“I’m in my bathroom. I finished my skincare for the night and thought we could chat briefly.” You giggled as you saw Lloyd joining in. The number was past 35k, and although you thought it was ridiculous at this hour in Italy, the rest of the world was running at different times. “Lloyd!!! Buddy!!! Go to sleep!” You tease.

You first.

Shaking your head, you try to see if he comments again, but the comments are coming in at lightning speed.

Cariñoooooooo

“Sarai, cómo va tu día?” How is your day? You ask your best friend.

Boring. Send me a flight to Italy.

You frown at the screen. “Be quiet. I asked if you wanted to come. You said you were busy.”

A cousin’s wedding. Remember.

“Right. You’re officiating for them. I’ll see you in a few weeks,” you assure them knowing Naomi and Sarai will be staying with you for a week–two if you manage to convince them.

Where’s Harry?

Are you in Italy?

One last show!!!!

I loveeeee you!!!!!!

Final outfit reveal

Show harry

I love the new movie

A simple night. Though lots of questions if you would be in Italy for the final show as no one has seen you for a few weeks and where Harry was. You decided to do the live to connect with the fans, but you also wanted to go to bed and join Harry because even a room away, you missed him. You wanted to talk with the fans to share you feel the same sadness that tour is ending because Love on Tour gave you Harry, and that’s something you’d never forget. The same feeling they all feel staring at Harry while being in the crowd is one that you feel too. You can’t describe it, but you all know it well.

You think back to that night in St. Paul when you locked eyes with Harry and knew life would never be the same again. You can honestly say you didn’t expect to fall in love with him and go on this crazy journey two years later, but there is nothing you’d change in your life because it led you straight to him.

“It might seem odd, I’m here talking with you late into the night.” You laugh at people calling out your time zone. “Well, it’s late for me. Maybe even weirder to do it without my overalls and stack of origami paper,” you take a deep breath before continuing. “I know a lot of you know about my relationship. How private we keep it because not everything is meant to be shared online. I like things to be mine, but Harry has never been mine alone. A piece of his heart belongs to each of you, and it’s not something I will ever forget. I am fortunate to love him and be loved by him. I don’t ever take it for granted.” You sniffle and turn away from the camera to compose yourself, but you know it won’t work. When you look back, the comments are filled with love, and it keeps you going. “Love on tour allowed Harry and I to reconnect and truthfully fall in love. I won’t say more because it’s something special to us, but Love on Tour ending is bittersweet. It’s a tour full of love where many of you met friends, best friends, and lovers. You know what it means to love someone because of an event and because of the distance. The love will only grow stronger, and that I can promise.”

You grin at Pauli’s comment saying how much they love you. You found the love of your life, but you also met new friends and built a bigger family.

“Whether you’re a fan of mine or only following me to get an update on Harry, I want to thank you for your kindness, not to me but towards him. If there is anyone who deserves all the love in the world, it is him. Most of you wonder why I’m saying this here and not to Harry, but he knows. I can promise you he does. Think he might be fed up with all the love and support I shower him with, but I’m doing it because I want to look back at this, who knows, maybe five, ten, twenty years from now, and be glad I shared this with you all. If anything, it’s something Harry can look back at when we have to be apart for longer than a day. Harry, sé que no estás viendo esto, pero eres el amor de mi vida. Un último baile mañana y estaremos de camino a casa. Que sigas cumpliendo todos tus sueños, mi estrella.”

You thank everyone for watching and signing off, turning off your phone, knowing the buzzing will start immediately. You know it will be shared all over the internet, and articles will be written by the time you wake up in a few hours. Usually, it’s something you’re careful about, but tonight you don’t mind. You’re proud of Harry, and you’re allowed to show it whenever you wish. You turn your phone off, knowing Harry loves his morning ringtone better than yours.

Turning the lights off, you know as soon as you’re wrapped in Harry’s arms, you're headed straight to dreamland. Crawling into bed is easy; moving the covers away from Harry proves to be a struggle every night. You shush him quietly to not wake him, and it seems to work until he shuffles over and drags you to lay flat on your back while he gets comfortable on your chest. He would forever be your little spoon.

“I love you, baby,” he mutters into the quiet of the night.

It makes your heart race even after two years together. You kiss the top of his head and repeat your favorite three words to him.

+

The final show has been nothing short of magical. Harry would spend the entire night on stage if he could, but you all know the show is close to ending. Harry, from the morning, had been cheerful from waking you up with a morning orgasm that led to making love, and once he let you get clothes on a walk along the water. You know he had seen your little speech but made no move to bring it up. It wasn’t necessary because you constantly told him how proud you were, and it was evident in how you proudly showed Harry off all day to a crew that already knew and loved him. You don’t know if someone texted it to him or if he happened to see it on Instagram, but he walked all day with an extra pep in his step. It could have also been the sex. Not a hint of sadness could be detected, and it eased your worries because it meant he was ready for a well deserved break.

You spent the show with Anne and Gemma, dancing your heart out. You knew Glenne and Jeff would pull you in for a final mosh pit as Harry danced his heart out to “Kiwi.” Harry had thanked the fans endlessly throughout the entire night. His speeches always bring tears to your eyes. He thanked the band and the crew. He thanked his family for the support they offered the past thirteen years. You didn’t expect a speech dedicated to you, so it caught you off guard when he mentioned you. All your shared family and friends cheered so loud, making it easy for Harry to spot you and even easier for the camera’s to find you and show you on the screens.

“I don’t know if some of you saw, but my girlfriend gave a lovely speech last night on a live,” Harry smiles as the crowd cheers for you. “She poured her heart out to you while I was sleeping.” He wags his finger playfully. “Like she doesn’t know I love my ego to be fed. Her love is something I feel even when she’s not around, but I am thankful she’s here tonight. She’s here, and she’s been dancing and singing all night. It's my favorite thing in the world seeing her happy.” Harry can see Glenne nudging her playfully, but your eyes never leave his. “I love being on stage and performing for you all. It’s everything I dreamed of, and I can’t wait to return soon to do it again.” Harry gives you a dimpled smile, and you know the look in his eye; even from a distance, you know he wishes he could kiss you. “No one tells you how much you miss out on. Family celebrations, nieces' first steps, and even graduations. The biggest to the littlest things matter. Bel has reminded me that even when I’m not there, I can send a reminder that I’m thinking of my family and friends. That everyone understands I’m doing what I love. I love being here with you all, but I also love being home.” Harry places a hand over his heart. “Bel has made me a better son, friend, and partner. Now I know this is sappy, and maybe you’re over this, and she’s going to tell me after this wasn’t necessary, but I do want it to be known that I’m happy. I have never been happier. And while I will be going away for some time, I want you to know I’m in good hands until I return and am yours again.”

The cheers are a mix of sobs and relief, knowing he will be back even with no set date. You can’t seem to stop crying. All the comforting Anne is doing is working, but it’s as if Harry broke you open by pouring his heart out for you on stage.

“He’s a bit of a romantic, my little one,” Anne teases as she squeezes you tighter.

“You’re telling me. I’m no match.”

Anne laughs, “you flew out the entire family and act like that’s not the greatest gesture.”

It’s true. You planned with Anne to make sure everyone could make it out by planning accommodations and rides for the final show to go smoothly for them. Harry deserved a large celebration, and it was important to have his family here. Naomi wanted to be here because if it weren’t for your best friend, you wouldn’t have found Harry in 2021 though Harry liked to think your paths would cross either way. Naomi’s parents, Ruby and Phil, made the journey for Harry. They happily welcomed him into the family. Viola flew in for the celebration as had Violet, your goddaughter with her father Alex.. Your family had become his, and they were here to celebrate two incredible years of a tour filled with love and joy. He deserved to have his family here after missing them so much. There was a wonderful celebration to come after the show ended.

“Guess we compliment each other well like that,” you told Anne. Small moments that reminded you how much a perfect fit you are for each other.

Harry clears his throat, “now, I’m sure Bel is flustered and wants me to stop, so I will. Thank you for being here. Thank you for changing my life. I love you.” He points at you, and you blow him a kiss he pretends to catch and puts it over his heart for safekeeping.  “I love you, and I’ll miss you.”

You don’t know what the future holds for your relationship. All you know is that your love will guide you through it all. Whether you get married, have kids, or simply exist to love each other, everything will work out the way it needs to because your love was written in the stars.

+

thank you for reading! love on tour has been so magical and special for us all. i love you all and hope you go back and read this series if you’re ever missing love on tour. te quiero mucho 🤍

[bengiyo]

Thoughts on Office Relationships, Breakups, Outings, and More in August ‘24 Shows

I couldn’t bring myself to finish Cosmetic Playlover today, so instead I decided to write about three shows doing interesting things with relationships right now. I don’t really have the time or interest in Stray Thoughts anymore, so I hope y’all enjoy this. For the past two weeks I’ve been thinking about the breakups and new relationships in The Trainee and Mr. Mitsuya’s Planned Feeding, and now I’m also thinking about Takara being upfront with Taishin about the state of their relationship on Takara’s Treasure. I want to get some of these thoughts down for posterity. 

The Ba-Mhee and Tae Breakup on The Trainee

I genuinely love that this show followed through on these two splitting up. I also like that Ba-Mhee asked to take the time to figure out what she’s feeling for Judy before doing something else. Ba-Mhee seems to define herself a lot by the relationship she’s in, and it was sad to see her struggling with the way Tae didn’t always respond to her attempts at expressing care and affection–methods which he never asked for. I think the two of them definitely needed to separate, because it’s not going to work if she’s feeling insecure because Tae is working hard in his preferred field.

That being said, I don’t like the thing with Judy because we know so little about Judy. All I really know about Judy right now is that she’s a workaholic with few personal relationships outside of the office, she’s queer, and she is good at handling clients. When she went to see Ba-Mhee after kissing her drunk intern the night before her anniversary at a work event, I wasn’t keen on the way it felt like Judy managed Ba-Mhee in that scene. Judy feels a bit inaccessible as a character right now, and I hope that’s a choice the show is making about how Ba-Mhee’s relationship with Judy is also rather one-sided, and entirely about her. I hope part of Ba-Mhee’s queer journey is recognizing how she seems to define herself by her relationships, and finds an identity independent of romance.

As for Judy… I hope there’s more to her here than just being pretty and good at her job. We’ve been let down twice this year by GL office romance, and I’d like for that to not be a constant trend. I’d like to see them give her nuance in her pursuit of a relationship with one of her reports.

Lastly, I really loved that Tae is trying to figure out how to be single again, and Pah got mad on his behalf. It’s a good compromise in a genre that seems to really not want characters to be  mad at each other for too long, especially when one of them has really hurt another. Tae got to be sad, and someone got to be righteous on his behalf. We even had good storytelling come out of these two using their jobs to punish each other, with it being very clear that these were bad choices. 

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko Betrayed Its Characters

While I’m here, let me just say that the back half of this show was utterly offensive, and actively betrayed its own characters. I cannot believe that Hiroko’s own community was so quick to betray her trust and out her repeatedly. I cannot believe this show abandoned Hiroko’s straight girl problems from the beginning for a message that “It’s not that bad now, so just come out. I cannot believe this show had a Boob Monster lesbian withhold sex from her horny girlfriend for a year so she could “cherish her.” I am baffled by all of the choices that went into this, and I will not be recommending it. It gets a 4 from me. 

Jane’s Ex on The Trainee

I thought it was really interesting to introduce an ex at this point while Ba-Mhee and Ryan are both considering potential relationships with their mentors. There are consequences in a professional field when you date within your field for some folks, and it’s clear that happened with Jane. Nine, the ex, was here to once again benefit from Jane’s talents, and Jane did not seem like he expected to receive any real credit or benefit from that work. I’m curious if the show intends for any resolution for Jane with Nine, or if he’s here as a romantic tool for Ryan.

Speaking of Ryan, he is clearly in his early 20s, because his jealousy spiral exhausted me. Jane was obviously not into that man, and assured Ryan that he would be back later by making sure he and Ryan had plans for later. I hope we get back to Ryan actually being a good supporter when he’s focused and motivated, especially now that we know that Jo was meant to illuminate things about Pah.

Mitsuya’s Breakup with Noguchi on Mr. Mitsuya’s Planned Feeding

One of my favorite things about this age-gap story is that Mitsuya has been out for a long time, and he has a romantic and sexual history. I loved that he’s had an on again-off again relationship that he needed to bring to a close as part of his own story, and I loved how it wasn’t the ugliest of breakups. These two men know each other intimately, and this final break for them turned into a small celebration of what they had between them. Important things got aired, they snipped a little at each other, and they got to enjoy one last meal together in a way that added a gentle finality to the situation.

On Ishida’s end, I absolutely loved that he’s continued to be upright with Mitsuya about his feelings, called their date what it was, and stepped down from his professional role with Mitsuya. On top of that, I actually love that it was Noguchi that gave him the final inspiration he needed to go back to sports and face his own angst there. It’s actually so special for me that a 27 year-old man who felt like he had to give up on his dreams is finding a way to do something with the specific feelings he has about that. 

I’m also never getting over Ishida telling Mitsuya that he wants to be seen as a man and not a cute kid.This, right after introducing Mitsuya to a food he’d never experienced before! We can thank @isaksbestpillow for making this possible, and this feels especially poignant for me right after we said goodbye to Okita Kakeru, who explicitly wanted to be seen as cute. I am really excited about the queer themes that keep coming out of this show, and I’m sure I’ll have more to say.

Takara and Taishin Avoiding Breakup Nonsense on Takara’s Treasure

So often in these shows with small age gaps in school, they never seem to know how to cope with graduation. I finished rewatching You’re My Sky last night, and that show solved it with travel for one couple, and external collaboration for the mains. I loved this show having the older partner ask the junior directly about the challenges of life after graduation for them as a couple. 

This worked so well, because the show has shown us for weeks that Taishin is always paying attention to Takara, and @lurkingshan detailed how many ways Taishin showed that he understood Takara this week, and I appreciated @clownshoessqueaking covering how Takara has managed his restraint across this show. It’s just so rare that we see two characters have the important conversation that needs to be had, and give each other the exact assurances they need. Taishin got to hear directly from Takara about how things were going for them, and was able to say that he wanted the relationship and initiate physical intimacy between them. 

For all that this show has felt really quiet for two months, it’s becoming one of the shows I will likely remember from this year. 

That’s all for now. Thanks for reading!

[sugarpea12345]

Remember My Name (Short story inspired by Saintobio)

Hello! This is a little thing I wrote inspired by @saintobio's work. This is directly inspired by they're sincerely yours and sincerely not .

To read and understand this, you must be caught up with sincerely not 's latest chapter (Chapter 8). I would consider this an AU, as I don't know what will happen in the next story. @saintobio 's is heart wrenching, so I had to write my own mini happy ending. Once they update, this whole thing probably won't make much sense lol.

I have received permission from @saintobio to post this

Again, this is directly inspired by @saintobio's work: Sincerely Yours and Sincerely Not.

Word count: 11.8 k

trigger warning: mentions of suicide, mentions of self harm, mentions of cheating, curse words used, angst

_____________________________________________________________

It had been a year since the coparenting arrangement. 

Via emails and business calls, you would arrange weekly pick up times. It was strictly professional. The way you wanted it. Right?

Wrong

You knew that you were being selfish. Maybe you always were. Everyone was right. Sera, Eula, Getou, Satoru’s mom, and Satoru. You were a black hole. You pulled people into your problems and destroyed them. You spent so much of your life fighting to be half the woman your mom was. And you could never be. You knew this now

“Mama!”

Bending down, you opened your arms. Hugging him tightly, you thanked the chauffeur for picking him up from school.

“Hi baby! How’s my little star?”

“Good! School finished early?” It was a statement, but you knew he was asking. Why did you take him out of school early? You really didn’t know. This whole day had felt strange. The air felt heavier. Your fingers felt numb. Something was going to happen and you didn’t want to be alone for it.

“What? My star prefers to be with teachers than with me? You’re making mommy sad!” You playfully nuzzled your head against his cheek and dramatically pouted. 

“I’ll never let you go to school again! Ha HA HA” You laughed evilly as you stood up and spun him

“Nooo!” He screamed between laughing.

After a good second of smiles and laughter, you finally set him down.

“Baby, I took you out of school because I wanted to spend time with you. Mommy is being selfish, so I won’t do this again. School is very important, ok?”

“Hmm… but mommy isn’t selfish. She’s a good mommy!”

You almost burst out in tears. He was too young to see how awful you were. His innocence and love for you blinded him. He would someday see you for the monster you are.

Allowing silence to fill the room, you stared into his eyes. God, those eyes. Your whole world could be found in them. Ruffling his hair, you grabbed the nearby scarf and wrapped it around him. Like any kid he grumbled at the added layers.

“Let’s go get ice cream and have fun today. Ok, baby?”

“Ice Cream! I love ice cream! My friend always, they always like laugh at me but not like mean laughing. But they say it’s so weird to eat ice cream when its winter. They think it’s funny. I think it’s funny too! Is snow different from ice cream? Because there’s like all this ice cream on the floor because it’s all snow. I just grab some sometimes and it doesn’t taste the same!”

As he got older, he has gotten a lot more talkative. He spoke incoherently and in run on sentences, but you understood him, nonetheless. You listened attentively when he would spend 30 minutes telling you about a funny thing his friend said. You listened when he would explain his entire school day the entire dinner. You listened the whole time.

“Yes baby, ice cream is yummy! I’m glad you and your friends laugh a lot. And no baby, snow is not the same as ice cream. Snow is made from the water on the earther getting colder, becoming clouds, and falling down. Remember I was teaching you about the water cycle? Ice cream is made from milk!”

At the mention of the water cycle, Sachiro excitedly launched into another spiel. He talked about the cycle, reexplaining it to you. He talked about how his teacher says he’s smart and how he got a toy. He talked about how his friends always ask him for help. He talked all the way to the ice cream parlor. As soon as you two ordered your ice cream, you settled down. Listening to him talk about his dreams. You always set your phone on Do Not Disturb whenever you are with him. He loved attention. If for one second you were to look away, he would immediately deflate. He was a carbon copy of his father. Sometimes you contemplated getting rid of your phone for this reason.

You spent the rest of the day chasing him through the park: pretending to be a dragon he fought, teaching him how to do cartwheels, looking for bugs. You took as many pictures as you could. Filming his smile, his voice, his eyes. 

The day came to an end, and you carried him on your back to the apartment you were staying in. 

After showering him and singing him a song, you finally took your phone off of DND.

Immediately, you were bombarded with millions of messages from everyone. 20 missed calls from Gen. 11 from Ian. 6 from your dad. 120+ text messages in total. 1 from Gojo.

Was everything ok? Please don’t let something be bad. Please. Please everyone be safe.  You heart beat increased. You were immediately transported to when you received news of Satoru’s accident. When the world learned about you running out of your wedding. When Satoru’s affair came out to the world. When you first got the calls of your mother’s sickness...

No. I can’t be selfish right now. If something happened, I have to be strong. Swallowing your fears, you opened the message you thought was the most important right now

Satoru: I’m sorry

No no no. He can’t do this again. He can’t! No please God no… You were almost about to call him, when you received another message from Gen. She was incessantly messaging you. Accidentally clicking on it, you read her last message

Gen: Please answer. Are you ok?

Now you were confused. Why was she asking if you were ok? You weren’t the victim. Doing some simple sleuthing, you looked at all the previous messages. Your eyes widened. You heart stopped. Tears filled your eyes. Looking over at Sachi, you took in a shaky breath. You had to be strong. Or at least strong enough to leave the room before you broke down. You had to do this for him. Stop being selfish Y/N

Shakily you walked out of his room. Looking back to make sure he was asleep; you closed the door gently. Before falling to your knees and letting all the tears fall. They pooled in the floor. You made sure to be quiet, but you were inconsolable. You hugged yourself tightly. You were being selfish right now. You knew that. But you were alone, and it was dark. It was ok to be selfish right now. Your heart was racing as you consoled yourself.

After half an hour of crying on the floor. You took a deep breath in and stood up. You went to the bathroom and stared at yourself.

“You need to stop being such a selfish monster, Y/N. You can’t keep ruining people. You can’t always be the victim. You need to make amends for everything you’ve done.”

You started your nightly ritual. Tears would occasionally mix in with cleanser or the water, but you didn’t stop. You had to be normal. You had to be happy. You owed everyone that. Sometimes it felt like you were caged behind your smile. Your joy had become a prison: a way to pay off all the bad things you’ve done.

Settling in bed, you grabbed your phone and responded to almost everyone. Finally, you reached Satoru’s message. 

Y/N: No worries! Congratulations! I expect an invitation lol :)

Satoru proposed to Akemi.

(Flash back to a year ago)

After that New York trip, you hated everyone. You hated your dad for pushing you into this marriage. You hated Getou for helping Satoru cheat on you during your marriage, but not understand why you wouldn’t want a baby with Satoru. You hated Satoru’s mom for projecting her self-loathing onto you. You hated your mom for dying. 

Above all else, you hated Satoru for what he did to you. He blamed you for a marriage he agreed to. He gaslit you into staying, knowing your selfless nature would do anything for his forgiveness. Even if that meant being a wife to a man in love. You hated him for taking you to the Bora Bora trip. You hated him for choosing your only friend to date. You hated that you had to go through months of emotional neglect and abuse for him to be kind. Just for Akemi to get it immediately. You hated that he became a better person only after using you. You hated him. You HATED him.

A spiteful part of your heart almost laughed. You were right! All the reasons he loved you, he found in her. You saw all the pictures he had of her. You saw the way he would caress her fingers. You saw him waiting for her. He never loved you! You were just convenient. And that’s why he loved her! Because she was convenient. Had you never sent her to meet him, they wouldn’t have fallen in love. If anything, he would be dating the nurse! Gojo Satoru doesn’t love. He just clings on to what’s closest. 

You spent a month marinating in these thoughts. In the week where you didn’t have Sachiro, you wouldn’t leave the office. You had begun sleeping there. You lost weight. Your face was pale. You were a walking corpse. You got assistants to pick up and drop off Sachiro. You never spoke to Satoru. 

This was to be your life now. After spending three days in the basement of the office creating, cutting, and sowing, Nobara finally convinced you to leave.

“Seriously Y/N, this is the 4th time I’ve had to get you gauze instead of bandages. I know you’re hurt, and I know you’re trying to distract yourself. But this is getting dangerous. Not only for you but for the clothes! We can’t sell anything if it has your blood all over it!” She tried to joke at the end

 As you finished wrapping the gauze around your forearm, you pitifully looked at her. She was so young and innovative. Despite being an intern, you had already set aside a permanent spot in the company for her. Stop burdening her with your problems.

Blinking away your sorrowful expression, you laughed. “Guess I gotta wrap myself in gauze and bandages before getting to work right?”

“Or you could just take a break. Jeez, I never thought workaholic millionaires existed.”

Ruffling her head as you walked towards her. “Thank you for waiting for me. You really didn’t have to. I promise, I won’t take advantage of your kindness. Go ahead and go home, I’ll lock up.”

Stunned, she took a second to respond. Your eyes were different right now. They were vulnerable and sad, but they were so kind at the same time.

“It’s no problem! Really! Thank you Y/N. Let’s work hard together.” Bowing, she made her way out of the store. Maybe you were going to get better?

After cleaning up, you placed the small stuffed bear you were working on in your small bag. Locking the store behind you, you headed towards your apartment. You had made the choice to move out. You were so filled with anger all the time. It would kill you if you were to accidentally lash out against the people you treasured. It was a tough conversation, but you needed space. 

As you walked, you decided last minute to head into a craft store. You needed a simple heart locket. Then you could gift the toy to your son.

With only one mission and energy drinks fueling you, you almost didn’t notice them. It wasn’t until you heard your son’s gleeful laughter did you perk up. Peering through the aisles, you saw him. No, you saw them. They both held your son’s hands as they looked at the toys. Letting go only when he would rush over to the loudest or brightest thing. Finally, he settled on a small plush. It had no lights and didn’t make any noise. They encouraged him to get something more expensive. Something flashier. But he didn’t. He wanted the light pink bunny. 

“It makes me think of mama!”

You saw Satoru and Akemi falter. It seemed that even the mention of your name silenced them. Your heart was beating so loud, you were sure they could hear it too. Leaning down Satoru ruffled his head. 

“Aren’t you a sweet little munchkin! Oh, but look at this!” 

You heart almost stopped. You saw Satoru redirect Satchiro’s attention to a cooler, bigger toy. As any kid would, he dropped the stuffed bunny and ran towards the huge toy. Gojo and Akemi exchanged relieved expressions. After purchasing the toy, they headed out. 

Walking into the aisle, you picked the bunny up. Holding it, you inspected its simplicity. Looking at the face, you realized why the bunny reminded him of you. The bunny had little tear dops in its eyes. Rushing to the cashier, you bought the bunny and the heart locket. It appears that you rushed too fast, as by the time you exited the store, they were still there. 

Sachiro, the spoiled child he was, was throwing a tantrum at having to be put in the car seat. As if he could detect your presence, Satoru immediately looked up. He saw you holding the bunny toy. His eyes filled with guilt and embarrassment. He knew that you were going to be upset. Of course you were. You were always angry at something. Nonetheless, he called you over. You were still the mother of his child.

After seeing the domestic moment in the store, you wanted to go up to them and give them a piece of your mind. You wanted to yell at them at the very least. But no, you walked over to them. Refusing to look up. 

At the mention of your name Sachiro perked up. Although he was already strapped into the seat, he did his best to peek out of the car door.

“Hi Y/N”. the tension was palpable. Choosing to ignore him, you approached Sachiro.

“Hi my little star! How are you? Did you have fun today?”

“Hi mommy! I missed you! Wanna go home! We did a lot of stuff-hmm mommy what are you holding?”

Remembering you were holding the bunny, you quickly hid it behind you back. “Just work stuff baby. I’m happy to hear you had fun! Mommy has to go, but I’ll see you this Sunday, ok baby?”

Giving him a big kiss, you did your best to hug him and said goodbye. 

Without looking up, you thanked Gojo and Akemi and began walking away. As soon as you got home, you set the plush down and pulled out your own. They both looked so ugly in your bandaged hands. Gently setting down the plush bunny, you tightly held onto the bear’s neck. Slowly, the pressure increased, and you were chocking the bear as tears streamed down your face. It was so ugly. This ugly bear in your ugly hands in your ugly home. Everything was so ugly. 

A beep from your phone broke you from this trance. It was from Satoru. 

Satoru: Hey

Satoru: Just wanted to let you know that we meant no harm in not getting him the bunny.

Then why? Why not get him that stupid toy! Sachiro is my kid! I am his mom! If he wanted that toy, then you should have gotten it! You almost wrote everything you thought. But no- no you were wrong. Sachiro wasn’t yours. Satoru had every right to get his son whatever he wanted. You kept Sachiro away from him for three years. You were the bad guy. 

Trembling you came to the realization. Rushing to the bathroom, you stripped yourself of all the clothes and the bandages. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You almost barfed. You were a monster. You were disgusting. Disfigured. Non-human.

Is this how Satoru felt?

The worst part of you were your eyes. They were so dead. Did you always look like this? How could anyone even stand to look at you? You were vile.

You had change. You spiraled into an abyss of anger and resentment. You lost yourself. Where was the sweet girl you once were. Growing a backbone didn’t mean you had to change. After a quick shower filled with tears, you got dressed and headed into the spare room. You spent the rest of the night making a light blue bunny. Unlike the store bought one, this one was smiling. It was happy. Sowing the heart locket onto the chest, you put in a small image of you and Sachiro. 

You had to be better. You had to be kind.

Grabbing the phone, you replied.

Y/N: Thank you for reaching out, but really, I didn’t mind! 

Y/N: Good night!

The next day, you didn’t go to work. Instead, you were at a café, waiting for someone to show up. You felt awful, but you knew this was the best thing to do. You had to be kind. Even if that meant being a villain. If being evil is the price you pay, then you will gladly pay it. Even more people would hate you. Everyone would. But you knew what you were doing was good. You had to be good. 

As soon as he walked in, you knew that he knew. His furrowed brow and tight jaw made it obvious that he was upset. And he had every right to be. Any anger and hate he harbored for you, you would accept.

“Toji, here’s your coffee. I’m so incredibly sorry for calling you at the last minute. I appreciate the time you took out of your day to meet with me”

He didn’t even sit down. He didn’t take the coffee.

Its now or never. Getting on your knees, you placed your hands on the floor and bowed. Your forehead was almost touching the floor. 

“Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for being a shoulder to lean on. Thank you for letting me join your family. Thank you for everything Toji. And I am so sorry for not giving you an ounce of it back. I am a selfish monster. I took everything you gave me and more. I was never a good fiancé. I wasn’t even a good friend. I took advantage of your loneliness. I will never forget the time we had together. But I ask you to forget about me. You deserve a more honest person. A person who can give you everything you deserve and more.”

People were looking and many taking pictures. Noticing this, he grabbed you by your arm, and headed out of the café. His grip was strong; it was sure to leave a bruise in your forearm, he nearly threw you into the passenger side of the car, slamming the door. He walked over to his side and began driving. The car was silent. You took refuge in it. You knew what he was going to ask. And you had to lie. You had to make him hate you. 

Soon enough, he parked in a desolate park. He refused to look at you. You didn’t want to look at him either, but you did. You had to. 

After minutes of harrowing silence, he finally spoke in a low voice

“Did you sleep with him?”

You knew he was going to ask this. A tear slid down your cheek. Your hands had begun to bleed as you kept them in closed fists.

“Yes”

He still didn’t look at you.

“Bullshit. You forget that I can see through your lies. I know why you’re doing this. You love him. You never stopped. Even after all the shit he put you through you still want him. Why now? Three years and I wasn’t enough for you. I defend you; I support you... all for what? For you to run back to your abuser. Every time I think your mine, you disrespect me. You humiliate me. You’re doing to me what that fucker did to you.”

“…Yes. I am. That’s why you have to leave me Toji. I can’t stand my reflection. I am so selfish-”

“Shut up. Don’t play the ‘pity me’ card. God, you really are something. The forever victim.”

You stayed quiet. In a perfect world, you would defend yourself. You would tell him that you aren’t trying to be the victim. You never were! You see that now. 

“You’re right.”

“All those fucking articles were right about you. I spent so much time, so much energy telling you they were lies. Turns out strangers know you better than I do. You are a two-timing bitch. You are selfish. You’re insatiable. Why couldn’t I have been enough for you. How the hell was I competing with the man who never loved you? And losing! You deserve nothing, you know that… You never left that room, did you?”

“W-what room?”

“That hospital room. Sure, you’re older now. You’ve been to a million places. But mentally? Mentally, you’re still in that hospital room. There is no cure for your loneliness. Face it Y/N, the problem has and always will be you. If you want to die next to your mom, be my guest. But you need to leave that room Y/N. If not for you, for your kid.”

He stayed quiet. It was your turn to speak. He didn’t want to hear you, but his patient nature told him to give you a chance. Not to defend yourself. But rather explain yourself.

“You’re right Toji. I think that’s why I always look for you. You always have the wisest things to say. And I know that. I’ve let the world pass me by. I have a void in my heart and its rotted me from the inside out. I’ll spend my entire life working for your forgiveness. And my lifetime might not be enough for that. You are everything to me. And that’s why I can’t let myself continue to poison you. I’ve changed you for the worst.”

You two sat in silence. You could hear his uneven breath. Reaching out you put hand on his shoulder. For the first time he turned to look at you. And there he saw it. Your eyes. 

Red and puffy with tears, your face for once didn’t look as haunted as usual. There was always this air of anger around you. Your shoulders were always tense. Eyebrows always furrowed. Not now. You looked younger. Instead of the anger that had clouded your eyes, he could finally see his reflection.

You didn’t look happy per se, but you looked aware. He looked at the hand on his shoulder. Even after everything he said, you were comforting him? This was the old you. The selfless to a fault Y/N. He couldn’t tell if this was a good or bad thing. 

He then noticed the mark on your forearm, already purple. In the shape of his hands. Reaching out he gently caressed the bruises, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach. You grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips. 

“Don’t worry about it. I love you Toji. Please, forget me.”

When the news broke out that you had ended your relationship, Ian did his best to remove a lot of the posts. It was hard since there were so many shots of you on the floor begging for forgiveness. If you didn’t look guilty then, now you did. Why else would you be apologizing? But you didn’t mind. Instead, you focused on removing any article that spoke badly on Toji. Especially after some pictures of you and that hand-print bruise were published. 

Fortunately, your brand had already been established. And while the coverage halted some planned promotions and runways, by the end of the month everything was normal again.

You changed your phone to a flip phone. You did your best to text Satoru about pick up times. Most often he wouldn’t respond. Instead, you would have to call Miwa. On the rare occasion that he did, you would spend the rest of the day crying. You cried so much. You couldn’t help but remember that way they both held Sachiro’s hands. The domestic life you would never provide for him. 

Often you would contemplate if you should have accepted him. Did you really love him? Or was it just easier to love him? You couldn’t trust yourself. Your mind was in ruins. You had no one. Since your change in attitude, people have become nicer to you. But you weren’t happy. And you stopped letting people get close. You even began to push away Gen and Ian. Monthly, you would meet with your dad and that was it.

Was life good? No, but it was better. You would be content if life stayed like this. But now, a year after your failed marriage, Satoru was going to prepare his own.

(Present time)

The day after receiving that message, it was published everywhere. It was the only thing articles were talking about. With the mentions of Satoru’s new marriage, you were put into the spotlight again.

The paparazzi swarmed you. Leaving your house had become difficult. They harassed you. Pushing you while demanding you answer questions. You smiled. You thanked them for their time. You would bid them farewell. It was too dangerous that you could no longer pick your son up. Not that you minded. You didn’t want to see how happy they were. Not until you were done healing at least.

You spent the weekend doing everything Sachiro wanted. Breakfast in bed? Of course. Quick trip to the local festival? Duh. Building a fort? Obviously. 

By the time Sunday night came he was so tired. All he asked was that you sing to him before his dad picked him up. Now you sat with Sachiro’s head on your lap. Normally, a bodyguard would meet you at your door and take your son downstairs as to not garner attention. 

As soon as the knock came, you gently laid his head on couch. Slowly you opened the door, expecting to see the normal guard.

“Thank- oh. Good evening, Satoru. Are you here to pick up Sachiro?”

He looked past you and saw Sachiro sleeping. Letting himself in, he sat on the couch and petted Sachi’s head. After moments of silence, he finally spoke up. 

“Yes, but I also came because I need to talk to you.”

Solemnly, you nodded. “I actually have something to say as well. I was planning to email it later, but if you’re here then we should discuss. Would you like anything?”

Satoru couldn’t help but stare at you. Just a year ago, he had buried the old you. It was his fault he knew that. If you were mean and angry, it was because he made you that way. The damage was irreparable. But here he saw her again. Or at least a glimpse of her. 

Even though he didn’t respond, you still handed him a water bottle.

“Did you want to go first?” 

“Um, yes. I just... I just wanted to apologize for not letting you know. I was planning on calling you, but I got distracted. I’m sorry you had to learn that way.”

“Silly. We all flub up sometimes. I would have appreciated knowing so that I could explain it to Sachiro. Thank you for apologizing.”

Even though you were smiling, he could tell you were sad. Your eyes were distant. It was like you had detached yourself from everyone. Somehow, he already missed that angry Y/N. At least he knew what you were thinking. Now, it felt like when you two had gotten married. How you smiled every time he yelled at you. He expected you would say the “I don’t care what you do with your life” speech and spitefully kick him out. He could sleep well knowing you hated him. But seeing your smile, it felt like he was cheating again. No. No, you asked for him to forget you. This is good. You’re getting better. But is returning to your selfless self better? That’s when you suffered the most. That’s what changed you. 

You didn’t give him much time to think as you started to speak. 

“Satoru, can I ask you for a favor?”

He knew what you were going to say. This nice act can’t last forever. This was the angry Y/N he knew. 

“Can you take care of Sachiro for a couple of months? I know it’s a lot, but I have some... business to take care of. I would take him with me, but I don’t want to separate you from him anymore than I already have.”

Oh? 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of him. I can’t believe you had to ask. He’s my son, of course I will take care of him.”

His tone had changed. He had gotten angry at the mention of the three years. You didn’t react. You just thanked him.

Gojo enjoyed his week with Sachiro and Akemi. It felt like they had a family. This is what he wanted. Sure, you were Sachiro’s real mom, but Akemi was also kind of like a mom. He noticed how well the two got along. He sought comfort in her and laughed with her. Yes. This is good. 

Yet, he couldn’t help but think about you. 

Every time Sachiro offered the first bite of his food to him. Every time Sachiro defended the annoying people at the mall. Every time Sachiro smiled, Satoru saw you. Yes, Sachiro looked exactly like him, but everything about him was you. It was all you.

His heart almost broke when he saw Sachiro singing to his stuffed animals. 

“Hey munchkin. BedTIME!” He joyfully grabbed Sachiro and swung him around the room. Instead of laughing, Sachiro began to pout. 

“No playing at bedtime dada. No”

“Oh, my bad Sachi.” He was a replica of you. 

Satoru sat on the bed as Sachiro headed to the bathroom, pulled out his step stool and began cleaning his face. After finishing his regiment, he waddled back into the room and settled himself into bed. 

“Is dada going to read me a story?”

“Can I sing to you instead munchkin?”

“Hmmm… no thank you dada.”

“Aww you’re a meanie! Um, but actually I need to talk to you about something serious.”

“Mhmm”

“You like Akemi, right? Dada likes her a lot. But it’s very important that you like her.”

“Yesh! Akemi is nice!”

He knew that this was wrong, but he had to ask. “Do you ever think Akemi could be like momma?”

Immediately tears sprouted from the boy’s eyes. He started frantically grabbing and throwing some of his toys. 

“NO! Mommy is Mommy! No one else is mommy! I hate Akemi! I hate her! I want mommy! Mommy!!”

Sachiro was screeching. Gojo was thankful that Akemi was in another room. She really did love Sachiro, and it would have broken her heart to hear him say that.

He held Sachiro close, trying to console him. “Shhh, baby. Daddy didn’t mean that ok? No one will replace mommy. Mommy is all yours.” Sachiro cried until his tears tired him out. No, I can’t tell him. Not today. Maybe Y/N should tell him instead. Sorry Y/N. I’m using your selflessness again. 

Soon enough the week ended, and he passed him back to you. Instead of showing up in person, as he did last time, he sent the bodyguards to take him. He was being cowardly, he knew. But he couldn’t risk Sachiro hating him. It’s your fault their relationship is so weak. It should only be right that it’s your job to explain everything to Sachiro. Right?

Satoru: Hey, I tried to tell him about me and Akemi. He didn’t respond very well. Could you explain it to him?

You almost rolled your eyes at the message. You were being punished. You knew that. But you responded with a simple ‘Ok’ anyway. 

Switch offs happened at night to make sure that each parent spent the majority of the day with Sachiro. You and Sachiro headed to the bathroom and completed your nightly routine all while dancing and occasionally teasing each other. This is what you lived for. Yes, you were lonely all the time. But you weren’t lonely with him. He was your reason to exist. It was going to hurt you being away from him for so long. But this would be good for everyone. This would be your last act of selflessness. This would atone for every bad thing you did.  

By the time you cleaned up all the splashed water, Sachiro was already in bed ready for his song. Instead, you sat on the floor. 

“Hey star boy, I need to talk to you. It’s going to be serious, ok?”

As soon as you finished the sentence, he burst into tears. Hugging you close he shook his head in a no motion.

“NO! I hate her! I hate her! She’s not mommy! Mommy is mommy! Mommy is my star and I’m her star! Not Akemi!”

Confused you held him tight. You cooed and brushed his snow-white hair back. “No Akemi won’t replace me baby.”

He pulled away to look up at you. “Daddy asked me! He asked me if Akemi could be mommy! I said no!”

You sighed dejectedly. This is why it didn’t go well. Your son was naturally altruistic. He would have understood and accepted had Gojo explained everything normally. But it seems that Gojo had made a selfish request. Why is it always my job to clear up Satoru’s name? Why can he be selfish and be the victim, but I can’t? No! No, I can’t think that! I’ve been selfish my whole life! Satoru is a victim. This will all be solved soon…

“My star, he didn’t mean it that way. Listen to me Sachiro. Me and you are a family, right? Me and you were also part of Toji’s family. Sometimes, when you love someone, you can add them to your family. Mommy messed up with Toji, and I’m no longer part of their family. But Satoru has someone he loves. Is it ok for her to join our family?”

You had dumped a lot of information on him. It took a second to process everything. 

“So, we aren’t family with Toji?”

“I’m not baby. But you will always be, ok. That’s how love works. They love you a lot.”

“Are you and daddy family?”

“Yes, we are. You make us a family.”

“But does mommy love daddy?”

You were stumped. This is probably why Satoru didn’t want this conversation. So, you answered honestly.

“Yes, mommy loves daddy.”

“Then why does daddy love Akemi?”

“Love is strange, baby. Sometimes you love people more. And he loves Akemi more. Is that ok?”

He took a second to think

“I guess…”

“Thank you for being so selfless Sachiro.” You stopped to think. “But if you’re ever not okay, then you have to tell someone, ok? Its ok to be selfish too.” You were just projecting, but you knew it was important for him to hear that too.

“Ok?”

“Speaking of being selfish… Mommy is going away for a couple of months.” As expected, he started bawling. He started kicking and throwing. He was loud. He was angry. He was betrayed

“NO! NO! Mommy can’t go! Mommy can’t leave me! She can’t! I’ll be a good boy I promise! I’ll eat every veggie! I won’t cry anymore! Mommy can’t leave!! It’s Akemi’s fault! Her fault! That’s why mommy cries so much! Its daddy too! Mommy never cried!”

You started crying too. All those times you thought you hid your tears he saw. He saw everything. This was the worst-case scenario. You had to leave. You couldn’t let him see you like that anymore. You had to leave that hospital room. Toji was right.

You held onto him. Even when he began to hit you. Even when he rubbed his snot over you. You waited until he calmed down, Silent tears were streaming down his face.

“Can we go back to New York mommy? I hate it here. Daddy is mean to mommy. Mommy cries all the time. Mommy is lonely and sad while Daddy is happy. It’s not ok.”

You wiped his tears away. 

“Sachiro, don’t say that. Mommy is paying the price for being bad. Daddy deserves to be happy. He loves you so so much. Please forget everything bad, Sachiro. Daddy wasn’t mean to me. If he was, I wouldn’t let you stay with him, right? Mommy isn’t lonely. She has you. Mommy will never be sad as long as Sachiro is here. You’re like my superhero! Mommy is struggling and she needs to fix some stuff so she can be a better mommy for you ok, baby? None of this is your fault. I have to go, but I promise you, this will be better for you and for me. I promise with my whole heart. The second I get everything sorted out, I’ll pick you up. This hurts me too, baby. But I need to be a better mommy for you. None of this if your fault. Don’t you ever think that. Hey, to help my little star, I have present for you.”

You stood up and presented him with a white, sleek box. It had beautiful light blue ribbon on it. He held it but refused to open it. 

“I even got myself a present so we could match!”

You pulled out your own white box. Seeing that you both had a present, he was more willing to open his. It was a phone. You had a matching one. You really didn’t want another phone, as you were content with the flip phone you already had. It made ignoring all the evil things people said about you a lot easier to manage. 

“When mommy’s gone, we can call each other all the time. I’ll respond to every text. I’ll answer every phone call. I promise. I won’t be gone for long. But I’ll text you so much you’ll wish I was.”

This garnered a small giggle from him. 

“Don’t worry baby, we have the rest of the week. We’ll do everything you want.”

He nodded glumly. He wasn’t too happy, but he felt a lot better knowing he could reach out to you. 

You slept with him. Holding him close, you did your best to treasure these moments.

When Sunday night finally came, you asked Satoru to pick him up personally. This was a big change, even if it was temporary. You wanted Sachiro to be as relaxed as possible. You and him sat on the couch. You had packed a bunch of his valuables and even some pictures so that he wouldn’t feel so lonely.  He was again on your lap, fighting to stay awake as you ran your fingers through his hair.

The serene moment was disrupted by the loud knocks coming from the door. Expecting to see Satoru you opened the door, only to see Akemi there. You did your best to keep your smile. It wasn’t that you hated her. No, she was your friend at one point to. But an evil part of you knew you could never forgive her. Not for dating Satoru, but for choosing him over your friendship. You told her everything, but because she never experienced it, she could ignore it. That is selfish.  As if you can critique others for being selfish. 

You welcome both of them. Sachiro already stood up, holding the blanket closely. He refused to look at his dad or Akemi. His eyes were already brimming with tears.

Bending down to his level, you caress his face. “It’s ok to cry, my star. But before you do, I have a gift for you.”

Reaching behind the couch, you presented him the light blue bunny you had made. His eyes widened and he squealed in joy Running to hug it he struggled opening the locket. One he did, he looked at you with the biggest smile on his face. He ran and hugged your knees. 

“Whenever you miss mommy, give that bunny a big hug, and I’ll feel it. Have fun with Daddy. You must be a good boy. Call me whenever you want, but I promise to call you every day. Mommy just needs to get some work done and then everything will be back to normal ok?”

After a couple minutes of holding each other, he finally walked over to where Satoru was. He raised his hands asking to be picked up. 

“Thank you, Satoru. Thank you, Akemi. I trust you two will take wonderful care of him.” You bowed at a 90-degree angle. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you leaving?” You hadn’t spoken to Akemi in a while. For a couple months, she stayed employed with you. Yet, after your official break up with Toji, she immediately resigned. You always wondered if she thought you did it because of Satoru. 

Smiling gently you respond, “I’m sorry, I can’t say. It’s nothing crazy, I promise! I just need some time.”

“It’s not because of…”

“Goodness no! I know I haven’t been the most supportive. I’ve been downright awful. I hope both of you forgive me for how I acted. It was selfish and attention seeking. I don’t expect any special invitation, but please know that I support this relationship. I’m glad you two found each other. Truly”

Satoru almost flinched at the words you used. The guilt of you actually believing all the nasty things he said to you weighed heavy on him. He almost regretted bringing Akemi here. If she wasn’t, he would have consoled you. Even if it only would have been a hand on your shoulder. 

The worst part about hearing you subscribe to all his insults was seeing the honesty behind it. You did think you were a terrible person.

Before either of them could say anything, you started ushering them out. 

“You guys must head out now! Sachiro still needs his night routine. He has school tomorrow, and he’s already stayed up so late. If you guys feel like he’s too tired, I don’t mind if he doesn’t go. It’s your call. Thank you both for everything!”

You nearly pushed them out of the apartment. As soon as that door closed, you broke down. This was going to be one of the hardest things you’ve done. But you had to do it. 

Nearly two months have passed. Satoru relished every second he had with his son. He has never felt more like a family than he did now. Everything was perfect. 

If it weren’t for the bunny he carried everywhere. Or the fact that Sachiro couldn’t do anything without having to send his mom a text. Sending a sleepy blurry selfie was more important than getting dressed. He would facetime you every night before going to sleep. There were times where he even ignored Satoru in lieu of sending you a selfie with a filter on top of it.

Satoru heard and saw more of you now, than he did in the last year. 

Even Akemi was getting a little frustrated. 

Yet, Satoru wasn’t just frustrated. He felt guilty. Your presence at the house had become so abundant, that he would often stay in Sachiro’s room just to hear you sing. He did his best to mind his business, but in the cases where he saw the silly selfie you would send back. It would plague his mind for the rest of the day. 

From the few glimpses he got, he could tell that something was changing. You weren’t in the office, or in any modern building it seemed. You were a lot livelier. You were happier?

How could a mom be happier away from her child? He would nearly scoff out loud at the thought. Maybe this was your way of giving him full custody? No there was no way. 

The next day, after sending Sachiro to school, he headed to the office. It was a usual day. He was glad he was able to save the company. He really was going to lose all this over you? No. He loved you. And you didn’t love him. But Akemi did. And his workers needed him.

As he continued working, suddenly Miwa and Nanami both presented themselves. Miwa was always easy to read. She was skittish and nervous. Nanami, on the other hand, was harder to read, but he could tell he was a little unsure as well.  “Nanami! Miwa! What bring you in here? I reviewed my schedule already. Is there something I missed?”

Miwa cracked first. “Um... Mr. Gojo, have you been in contact with Ms. Y/N recently?”

“She calls Sachiro nearly every day. Did something happen?”

“Well, have you been in contact in the last hour?”

“Miwa may you please get to the point?”

Nervously, she looked up at Nanami. Sighing and pushing his glasses up, he handed Satoru the iPad. “None of this means anything. And if something did happen, it is not your responsibility. It’s just rather strange.”

Gojo looked over the screen. In big bold letters there it was:

Y/N STEPS DOWN FROM HEARTS COMPANY. 

Y/N SELLS OVER A MILLION IN STOCKS

HEARTES INTRODUCES NEW CEO AND CREATIVE DESIGNER

Y/N RESIGNS FROM COMPANY

Y/N’S APARTMENT UP FOR SALE?!

Gojo looked at the headlines frantically. He knew what all this was implying. Yet, he needed verification. He couldn’t fathom the thought that you would have… No there’s no way. You have Sachiro. You wouldn’t do this.

“Um... what exactly does this have to do with me Nanami?”

“It means nothing. It seems that Y/N has done some irrational choices that garnered some attention from the media. That’s all this is. Unfortunately, you know how convoluted your history is with her. Some people might assume that since she’s acting out in such an illogical and hysterical manner, that she may be going through a manic episode. A manic episode that may precede…” Nanami couldn’t finish the sentence. 

His heart was beating. No, there’s no way you could be gone. No. No. You made a promise! You promised to return for Sachiro. Right Sachiro. That’s why Gojo is feeling so bothered and anxious. He’s worried for the mother of his child, that’s all. 

“I think… I think I’ll head home. If she has been in contact with anyone, it would be my son. Thank you for letting me know.”

As he made his way to the car, he couldn’t help but speed. He needed to make sure you were ok... for the sake of Sachiro.

On the way, he received a phone call from Akemi. Normally, he would have pulled over and answered her. But not today. He drove, breaking most speed laws all the way home. He barely turned his car off as he rushed the door. Yet, as he got to the door, he found a box. It was for Sachiro Gojo. Without hesitation, he looked at the sender’s address in the corner and typed it in. It was a two-hour drive, but he didn’t care. This box didn’t prove anything. You must have sent it days ago. If you had planned to do this all at once that meant only one thing. You were planning to commit. There was no other option. With only this one mission fueling him, he unknowingly kept ignoring Akemi’s calls

After an hour and a half of driving, Gojo started to notice his surroundings. This was an older city. There were multiple shrines and elders. There were very few cars. A lot of cats.  This was weird. He continued following the GPS. He passed the city and made his way up the mountainous region. By 5 pm. He had reached an isolated house on top of the hills. The land was relatively flat once he got up there. There was an impressive house. It looked new. The house wasn’t a mansion, but it was still large. The lights in what he assumed the kitchen were on. Hesitantly, he knocked.

Soon enough someone opened the door. No, not someone, you did

There stood you. You looked younger, happier, kinder. Unlike last time, your happiness didn’t feel like a mask. It felt genuine. He couldn’t marinate in his confusion as you grabbed his hand and pulled him in. 

“Hi Gojo! I’m shocked to see you here! Come in! Let me get you a lemonade. It must have been a long drive.”

You sat him down on your couch. He couldn’t help but think about that mansion. The one where you were supposed to start and raise a family. This one was a lot cozier, with the architecture of it being rounder in a way. It felt like a cottage despite its massive size. There were a lot of plants. On the walls were framed pictures. Mostly of Sachiro. A lot were ones he’s never seen. There were a lot of selfies of you two. And hidden between all of them was that Disneyland photo. It was when he had amnesia. When he thought you were cheating. Before he knew of all your lies. That instantly ruined his mood. 

Placing a coaster, you set his drink down. He couldn’t help but notice that the coasters were made with images of Sachiro’s drawings. 

“The lemonade is rather tart since the lemons are homegrown. So, I went ahead and added a bit of sugar. But here’s some more if you like. I don’t know if you still have the same sweet tooth. So, if I put too much sugar, let me know! I’ll get you another cup!” You set down a jar with sugar. You were so talkative. The last time you spoke this much with him was when you were kids. 

He didn’t move. Noticing his discomfort, you kept talking. “I was going to call you tomorrow. But I’m glad to see you. Did you come alone?”

“Y/N, I thought you committed suicide.”

You deflated slightly. Somberly you looked around the room. With a gentle smile, you looked at him. It was like you had puppy dog eyes. He could get lost in them. It had been a year since he was attracted to you, but he couldn’t help but want to lean closer to you. To breathe your air. He stopped himself in time

“It all happened kinda fast right? I was hoping that by doing it all at once, it would be like ripping the band aid off, y’know? People are bound to talk, so instead of doing it slowly and reigniting interest in my life every couple of weeks, I thought it would be easier if I just made one big splash and let the water settle from there.”

It felt like he was in a different dimension. You spoke so casually to him. It almost felt like he was the weird one. In disbelief, he stayed quiet.

Taking a deep breath, you continued. “Honestly, I did plan to. To commit suicide, I mean.  So, I guess you weren’t completely wrong.”

He stared at you. How you casually admitted to your suicidal ideations.

“What? You can’t be the only one to be suicidal right?” You joked, hoping to ease the tension. It did the exact opposite. 

“Y/N I need you to fucking explain everything. No jokes”

Your gaze hardened. “Gojo, you do not disrespect me in my house. I have welcomed you because you are my child’s father, but I will forbid you from coming here again if you speak to me like that again.”

He remained silent but nodded. It was weird. You definitely had grown a backbone since he last saw you in your apartment. Just a couple months ago, you looked like the submissive, docile, doormat you once were. But now? Now you confident and strong without sacrificing your trusting and selfless nature. You were a perfect blend of your youth and your experience. 

“This is my way of asking for forgiveness. From everyone. I’ve done a lot of awful things. Since that New York trip, I became vindictive. I became evil. I didn’t know why. How could I be jealous that the man I encouraged to move on moved on? I was changing Satoru. I had thought that being mean and cold was a way to protect myself. But in reality, I had gotten worse. I couldn’t stand my reflection. Then, I saw you Akemi and my star at the store. You remember right? With the pink bunny? You all looked so happy. It was the life Sachiro deserved. I went home and saw myself. Really saw myself. I couldn’t recognize who that person in the mirror was. Since then, I was determined to seek forgiveness from everyone I wronged. My first thought was to kill myself. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to my star. Even now, I find myself fantasizing about just jumping off that cliff… I even planted flowers there so whenever Sachiro visited, he would feel safe. But I can’t. That’s why I have all these photos and drawings of him. If I keep thinking of him, I’ll never have time to contemplate killing myself.”

Gojo couldn’t stop his eyes from watering. He almost reached out to grab your hands. He closed his hands harshly, forcing himself not to move. “But Y/N... you didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, you have done wrong. But we all have. You shouldn’t have to punish yourself for existing.”

Always and empath, you leaned forward and placed a cute octopus squishy in his hands. He quietly accepted it, showing the indents his nails made on palm “You don’t want to accidentally cut yourself. I learned that a little too late.” You laughed gently as you showed him your own palm. There were small scars in the shape of your nails. 

Holding the squishy in one hand, he used the other hand to inspect your hand. They were different. It was obvious that you still took care of your hands: soft, supple, perfect nail beds, trimmed nails. But upon further inspection, he could see multiple scars littering your fingers. His gaze drifted upwards to your forearm. There he saw some bigger scars. Some still scabbing. He could feel his own scar throb at the memory of the pain. Gojo couldn’t stop himself as some tears fell out. He couldn’t stop himself from tracing their outline.

“Why- why would you do this? You were alone the whole time? Then why? Y/N I don’t understand you? You were going to…”

He was interrupted by your melodious laughter. You pulled your hand away. “You’re too sweet Gojo. No. No these aren’t what you think they are. It’s just some office mistakes. I jumped into my work to fill that void of loneliness. But you know, it’s pretty dangerous to be handling sharp rotary cutters when you haven’t slept for days.” 

Grabbing his hand, you pulled him up. “Let’s go for a walk!”

Leading him to the back door, her couldn’t help but stare at your interlinked hands. The tips of his ears turned pink. He felt so young right now. No. No I can’t think like that. 

The back yard was like a Ghibli fantasy forest. It had plenty of lush green plants and flowers growing everywhere. In a corner there was a cute gazebo with two easels ready. One noticibly smaller than the other. There were plenty of trees a reasonable distance from the house. They provided a nice area of shade. Some grew peaches, others grew limes.  A stone path led to another corner where a sand pit was already set up. The entire perimeter was protected with a gorgeous white fence. Tall enough that Sachiro wouldn’t be possible to scale it. There was one exit. You headed there still holding Gojo’s hand. Typing in a security code, the door opened, and you headed into the forest. After a 5-minute walk, the forest cleared and presented a cliff side. Undoubtedly it was gorgeous. The ocean was beautiful. Flowers and clovers surrounded the area. 

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until he saw that the sun was setting. You let go of his hand and sat down, resting your head on your knees. You always had that curious habit of returning to a fetal position. Settling next to you, he couldn’t stop himself from looking at you. You looked ethereal. With the sun in your face, the wind in your hair. There was a gentle smile playing on your lips as you stared at the ocean. 

“Gojo…”

He couldn’t help but squish the little octopus. He didn’t know why it hurt him to hear you call him only by his last name.

“I disagree with what you said earlier. I should be punished for my existence. I’ve done nothing good. Born into a life of luxury, and I still managed to want more… When Toji broke up with me, he told me something very valuable. He told me that I was stuck in my mother’s hospital room. That I never left. And he’s right. Ever since my mom died, I became a walking corpse. I cursed myself with eternal loneliness. And yet, I so wanted to fight that loneliness. So when my father mentioned the marriage, I was ecstatic. Although we haven’t spoken in years and you refused to answer any messages I sent, my loneliness convinced me that you wanted it. I mean technically you did, but you didn’t really want it. I wonder, if I had never accepted that proposal, would you still be with Sera? Would any of this happened?”

The wind filled in for Gojo’s silence.

“My selfishness blinded me. I so badly wanted to be loved that I ignored any sign of resistance. Even when you told me that I would never compare to her, I wanted you to change for me. How pretentious. Had I just given up, then maybe you wouldn’t have thought that you loved me. When you couldn’t vanquish my loneliness, I searched for it in Toji. I abused his friendship just so that I wouldn’t be alone. When I figured out the real reason you married me, the reason you bought that house, the betrayal. That almost killed me Gojo. Imagine that. Even at my lowest I couldn’t stop seeking attention. I put myself over you, as usual. I lied and kept you from your child. I shouldn’t have been so selfish. It was okay that you didn’t love me. As long as you loved our child. But no selfish Y/N strikes again. Then, even though I knew I wasn’t ready, I still accepted when Toji proposed. I’m a monster. Just a year ago, I almost lost it. I was becoming unrecognizable Gojo. I couldn’t look at you and Akemi without getting angry. How was it fair, that I had to go through months of humiliation, which in hindsight, I did deserve, just for her to get the perfect boyfriend. I cried for months before you even held me. The first time we had sex, I had to beg you to kiss me. I hated her and I hated you. But that’s not your fault. Nor is it her’s. It’s mine. If I wasn’t so selfish and I didn’t think you loved me then none of this would have happened. I ruined so many lives because I couldn’t see past myself. If I didn’t use people to fill this abyss I have in my heart, I wouldn’t have caused you to almost commit suicide. I wouldn’t have taken Sera’s boyfriend from her. I wouldn’t have wasted Toji’s time. I wouldn’t have hurt your mom. None of this would have happened. I should have stayed in that hospital room. I should have asked them to bury me with her.”

You were crying now. Your hands shaky as they gripped tighter. You were curling in on yourself, wanting to disappear. 

“If I hadn’t been so awful, Sachiro wouldn’t have seen me cry so much.”

Gojo’s heart broke. All those lies. All those insults. You believed them. No. No you weren’t selfish. You were the opposite. You always put other above yourself, even if it hurt you. Of course, you’ve committed your share of sins, but never maliciously. You were too trusting, too eager to please. And to think he didn’t love you? That nearly shattered him. He may have moved on, but the love he had for you was real. Even though he may have forgotten how to love you: even though he may have abused you: even though he didn’t deserve to love you, he has never stopped loving you since you were young. 

He reached out a hand to soothe your back as you hiccupped through your gentle tears. You had a special charm that made everything you did look beautiful. But he paused seeing how stunning you were despite the tears on your face. He almost kissed you. But he didn’t. Not because he held himself back, but because he saw your eyes. 

As you stared into the ocean, your eyes changed from their vulnerable and kind state to a detached, disconnected gaze. Almost like you were hypnotized by the sea. The waves calling you. It was the same gaze he had when he was suicidal. 

“After seeing you at the store, I realized that I needed to atone for my sins. I needed to seek forgiveness. That night was actually the night I realized I needed to commit suicide. Not to ease my own pain, no that’s a selfish reason. I wanted to commit suicide so that everyone’s bad thoughts, everyone’s problems, and every bad thing I did could die with me. If everyone took turns spitting on my grave, I wouldn’t mind. As long as I was no longer causing problems, it would have been worth it. I spent the whole night making a new stuffed animal for him. I cut myself a lot by accident, but I didn’t mind. That was going to be his last gift. My existence is a mistake. Me dying would be a gift to the world.”

“And?”

“And I clearly decided not to. I owe my life to Sachiro. As long as he needs me, I will live for him. I want to die, Gojo. I want to give everyone the life they had before they met me. I want everyone to be happy again. But I can’t. Because I have my little star. I’m evil Gojo. I’m a black hole. I pull people in, only to destroy them. I’m afraid one day I might do that to him too.”

You turned to look at him, tears streaming down your face. 

“It kills me to know that one day I’ll hurt him too. But he loves me so much. He fills the void in my heart. I’m not lonely when I’m with him and I know its selfish, but the way he looks at me... The way he looks at me almost makes me think I’m a good person.”

Gojo continued staring at you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Hearing you talk about yourself this way hurt him immensely. It almost felt like he was drowning. No, you didn’t get better. None of your problems were solved. You just learned to live with them. 

You leaned close to Gojo. The honesty in your eyes almost scared him. “Gojo, if you ever notice that Sachiro is suffering being with me, I need you to tell me. The second I start poisoning him, I’ll kill myself.”

The conviction behind your words paralyzed him. You two sat there for a minute. He didn’t know what to say. He knew what this felt like. He knew the exact emotions you were drowning in. But he couldn’t help but think that you were a lot worse. You have begun to hate your entire existence. You had no one. The amount of self-hate you had was shocking. 

After a couple minutes of silence, you wiped your tears away. Standing up you offered your hand to him. 

Looking at you now, it felt like he was in an alternate dimension. One where he confessed when he was younger. One where he never met Sera. One when he got on a knee and properly proposed. And he almost believed it. Just as he reached to grab your hand, he finally noticed how his phone was ringing. Looking down he saw Akemi’s number. He looked at you apologetically. You smiled kindly and continued to offer your hand. As his bigger hand enveloped yours, he imagined pulling you in close and kissing you in the sunset. Just like the romance novels you loved. As soon as he stood up, though, you released his hand. Walking past him you headed back to you house. 

You were giving him privacy. He was at crossroads; stay here and answer the phone or chase after you. All those times he didn’t. Maybe he should this time. No. He’s going to get married. He’s made his choice. And like usual, he didn’t chase after you. 

He spent some time with Akemi on the phone. He explained the entire situation to her. He omitted everything you told him, though. That was for him only. He calmed her down and promised he would be home by the end of the night.

Walking back to your house, he smelled the pasta you used to love so much. You only ever cooked it for him once. He saw you humming as you stirred the pasta with the sauce. 

“Y/N, I’m going to head out now. Akemi is worried. You should call your family too. They’re probably worried too.”

You turned to him. You looked like a picture-perfect housewife with the apron you had on. You hummed in agreement. 

“They already know, but thank you for the suggestion. It was nice seeing you. Would you like some food to take for the trip?”

He should say no. There’s no way to explain leaving work to spend the whole day with your ex-wife to your fiancé. Much less if he brought food with him. 

“Sure.”

You packed it into some cute tupperware. It had little duckies on the lids. He just realized how much you changed financially as well. Besides the large house, one would never assume you came from wealth. There was very little name brand stuff. A lot of the decorations were local. 

Noticing his curious gaze as you handed the Tupperware to him, you giggled.

“If we see each other again, feel free to ask any questions. We’ve both changed a lot. I hope next time you talk a bit more. I kinda hogged the whole conversation today huh?”

You walked him to the door and waved him goodbye. 

He spent the next two hours just re-living that time. Already he missed being in your house. He could already imagine you, him, and Sachiro painting outside or going to the local city for festivals. Despite all the heartbreaking things you told him, all the awful things you thought of yourself, you managed to make a sanctuary. It was always in your nature to find the silver lining in every circumstance. You obviously needed a therapist. But a selfish part of him was glad that he was your confidante. As far as he was concerned, only he knew of how you felt, where you lived, why you did what you did. It was like you were still his.

As soon as he recognized these thoughts, he pulled over. There is no way he can think like that. No that would be unfair to Akemi. He’s already hurt you so much. He pushed you to the point of trauma. He changed you. Even now, the scars of hos he treated you were present. Everything you thought was because he had told you it at one point. No. He couldn’t do all that to Akemi either. 

Grabbing the cute Tupperware with the pasta, he almost threw it out. 

Instead, he took a second to look at it. It was two big ducks and little baby one. You had used a ribbon to tie some utensils on the top. Everything your hands made had some care and love imbued into it. Opening it, he aggressively ate it all. It was delicious, as expected. While he ate, he started crying. Why? Why did seeing you like that hurt him so much? Why did he use Akemi’s name instead of calling her his fiancé? Why didn’t he hold you as you cried? Why do you use his last name? Why?

He drove home that night. He kissed Akemi before she could even greet him. She immediately melted into the kiss, even if she was still peeved at being ghosted the whole day. He playfully pleaded for her to forgive him. He smiled. He laughed. But for some reason her couldn’t look her in the eyes like he used to. A part of him wished it was you he was holding. 

He went to Sachiro’s room. It was messier than usual. He noticed a bunch of crocheted toys he had never seen before. I guess that’s what was in the box. He reached his son, and he stopped to stare at him. Sachiro was holding two things as he slept. The bunny, per usual, but also a note. In big letters Gojo could make out Momma’s Ready! Sachiro was still learning to read, so you hadn’t written much. Still, just seeing those two letters had excited Sachiro so much that he slept with it. On his little tummy laid the phone. Close to dead, Gojo picked it up to charge it. There he saw that Sachiro had been listening to a video you recorded of yourself singing to him. Oh right. Since you had spent the whole evening with Gojo, you couldn’t call Sachiro. 

For a reason Gojo couldn’t explain, he sent the video to his own phone. He plugged the phone in and walked out of the room. 

Akemi had already headed to their own room. Before Gojo could, he had to organize some stuff.

“Hello, I know its late. I’m just letting you know not to pick up Sachiro tomorrow. I’ll handle the drop off.”

Gojo had to see you. Just for answers. He just wanted you to explain yourself. That’s all

At least that’s what he told himself. But when he slept that night, he dreamt of living in that house with you. He dreamt of cooking breakfast for Sachiro and you. He dreamt of a world where you were his. 

[moonlightseve]

So we all know that Stammi Vicino – Non Te Ne Andare is essentially Viktor’s cry for help in a world where he has neglected his personal life for twenty years, giving everything he has to his sport and becoming an untouchable god because of it. And the lyrics are so sad and I just want to talk about them and what I think is going on because I can’t get it out of my head. 

I hear a voice weeping in the distance Have you maybe been abandoned as well?

We start out with Viktor looking for this person who can understand how he feels, that same desperation for connection between the two of them. They are not united yet, but are able to come together because of their circumstances. Viktor, who has no family that we know of (or even friends outside of skating) is so utterly alone that this chance at having another soul who gets him has to be this horrible gnawing desire. 

Come now, I'll quickly finish this glass of wine I’ll start to get ready Be quiet now

The glass of wine only confirms my thoughts about his loneliness, in my opinion – he has been sitting there alone, silently, enjoying this small pleasure with no company. And now he moves to join this distressed individual addressed at the beginning. There’s little comfort here beyond an attempt to silence their crying, it’s less of an established connection and more of an acknowledgement of similar circumstances. He can understand what it’s like to be sad and alone without feeling like there’ll be any change.

With a sword I wish I could cut those throats singing about love I wish I could enclose in ice the hands that write those verses of burning passion

There’s some frustration here – Viktor is 27 years old when he skates Stammi Vicino. This is past the age where many people experience these passionate romances for the first time, finding a twin flame with which to go through life. Despite how much people adore him, how successful he has become, how admired he is… he cannot be loved because no one truly knows him. There’s so much media out there about people finding each other, these grand love affairs and lasting friendships that add so much depth to a person’s life. And he has nothing. It must be infuriating, to have so much and yet so little. And I think there might be something there with the “enclose in ice the hands that write those verses of burning passion” as well, with him reflecting on his own circumstances in comparison to these love stories. Why don’t they have to suffer the same fate as him, married to the ice? Why must his heart remain frozen and no one else’s?

This story that has no meaning Will vanish tonight together with the stars If I could see you, eternity will be born from hope

There is no meaning to his life, nor is there any meaning behind his connection with this other person. They do not know each other. This is fleeting, and temporary, and entirely impermanent… but god, he wants so badly. He knows he can’t have it but he wants to hope so much.

Stay close to me, don’t go away I’m afraid of losing you

This hope has taken root in his soul. Despite the fact that he is so utterly alone and this individual who maybe can just barely begin to understand how he feels isn’t truly with him in any way that matters, he can’t bear the idea of giving up this tiny thing that is all he has left. This is a moment of pure vulnerability, the admission of just how scared he is. He is going through the motions, facing everything he has to entirely alone. Even a fragment of attention and care sets him alight, he cannot bear to lose anymore than he has already.

Your hands, your legs, My hands, my legs, And our heartbeats Are blending together

Here he comes together with this person. I still don’t think it’s viewed as a bond that he believes in, but acceptance of potential and the fact that maybe they could have something together. He feels something intertwined in their souls, some semblance of similarity. And for him, that means a lot.

Let’s leave together I’m ready now

The glass of wine has been put down, he has acknowledged his anger and frustration, and he is ready to move forward. There’s something for him, maybe, if he keeps looking. He can only hope.

Now. I could go on and talk about what the banquet meant to Viktor, and how this was maybe the first time he had wanted a person in his life this way, or I could just talk  about the duetto … which is what I’m going to do. 

So the duetto contains some pretty obvious lyric changes, namely the fact that the verses

With a sword I wish I could cut those throats singing about love I wish I could enclose in ice the hands that write those verses of burning passion This story that has no meaning Will vanish tonight together with the stars If I could see you, eternity will be born from hope

are removed. Hmmmmmmmm… all of the longing, none of the aggravation towards that sickly sweet romance? None of the denial that this could matter, the quiet desperation that maybe he might be allowed to hope for once? Because finally, after years of searching and waiting and quietly, so quietly, hoping – Viktor found someone who sees him. Who loves him, who wants him for who he is. They can stay close to each other, and neither of them will go away. Yuuri adds this color and warmth to his life that he had been looking for, and Viktor in turn has given Yuuri the chance to flourish and become the best version of himself, all the while having someone by his side who simply will not leave him. They are able to support each other in ways no one else can, and that is what makes their pair skate so beautiful. 

[bg-brainrot]

Have you ever wanted to give Astarion more hugs? Because I did. So I wrote 34K words just to give him more hugs. It's Hugs for a Vampire, literally just uploaded the last chapter.

It's my first finished long fic ever and I feel this weird little pride so I wanted to gush about it. Please enjoy a few of my favorite snippets below (spans the game so beware spoilers), but this thing has a bit of everything.

You want figuring out boundaries? You got it!

You’re not sure how much of it is a choice that you’ve consciously made or if it’s born of your underlying worry. It hasn’t been long since you entered this new phase in your relationship, and the past couple of weeks have been a lot of trial and error to get to a place of some comfort and understanding. As such, you know exactly why you’ve been careful, consciously or not. “I don’t want to touch you if you’re not ready for it,” you say, tilting your head toward his, whispering your words away from the rest of the group.

The vampire freezes a moment, his eyebrows knitting into a look of concern. “While I appreciate the sentiment, darling, a hug isn’t exactly carnal .”

You give him a flat look. “Of course it isn’t,” you respond back. “But it’s still… intimate. You should be allowed to decide when that happens. If you hug me, I know you want it to happen.”

Astarion finally uncrosses his arms, only to rub at his temple in exasperation. “Ugh, you’re being disgustingly considerate,” he says, closing his eyes. “It’s times like this that I wonder how we’ve even gotten this far.”

You want a smidge of angst? Of course.

Astarion’s arm around you shifts, an attempt to pull you closer. You turn to face him and lean in to help his efforts. He gives you a sad little grateful smile, and tucks you into his chest, your head resting just below his chin. When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper, a low rasp to it, “I’m here, dear. We’re in this together.”

Nodding into his chest, you take a few steading breaths. “I know,” you say. “But is it too much to ask for a break every once and a while?”

“Darling,” a cold kiss graces your temple before he continues, “I’ve been asking myself that question for two-hundred years.” His words aren’t meant to elicit sympathy, just reality, and you both soak in it for a while. Laying in each others’ arms, bodies too exhausted to move, spirits too broken to speak, you allow yourself to weep.

You want calling Astarion out on his bullshit? For sure.

“Gods,” he breathes out in anguish. “I can’t say you’re wrong. I can only say I'm so glad we didn’t meet then. I don’t even want to think what would have happened to you…”

You’ve never been above challenging your lover’s sullen moods, facing his avoidances head on. So you stare him down fiercely when you say, “Don’t you avoid this, Astarion. Face it, like you must face them. You would have killed me.”

And just like that, something in him buckles. All of his blustering blown away in the stark reality of his previous life. “I would have killed you.” Astarion’s shoulders bow, his head turns away from you and it’s all you can do to hold back a fierce, rib-shattering embrace.

You want fluff? Hell yeah.

You’re ever the slightly more responsible of the two of you. “I always thought that the day we got thrown into prison together it would be for theft, murder, maybe racketeering– not public indecency.”

“The night is young, dear,” he says, smiling up at you innocently. "I wouldn't rule any of them out quite yet."

You plant a small kiss on his head and respond, “You are an utter fool.”

You want an ending where he doesn't run off on his own and break your heart? It's only natural 😭

Sniffling, tears trailing down your face and onto his neck, you know your voice is barely there. But you need him to know. You whisper to him, “We’re all here for you. You’re safe with us.”

And like a stubborn lock that finally gives, he collapses into you. His full body weight bears down on you, and it’s all you can do to keep from toppling over. Yet you remain solid, fully ready to support him as long as he needs.

Anyway, I just wanted to be excited, if you read this far ty I appreciate you and pls how do I get this vampire man out of my head 🥲

[bananaactivity]

Sooo… Hook and Morgie huh.

Morgie and Hook look so different in this world… I love it. I actually ended up changing his hair to match Morgana from Troll Hunters 🫣. I wanted him to look more interesting cause people kept saying he was random and lame, Red heads with mullets aren’t lame I think 😃

( outing myself as a troll hunters fan in the year of 2024 💀)

Down below I put a little GIF of Morgies eyes doin the changing thing

(Why he kinda serving Edward Cullen tho like 😛)

Turns out Morgana Le Fay is REALLY powerful, so by extension Morgie should have the potential to be a pretty spooky sorcerer/ witch/ fay/ god. Based on Descendants canon, parents magical abilities is hereditary ie it’s VERY likely Morgie has all his moms powers in Arthur mythos. Which includes stuff like NECROMANCY AND OMNIPRESENCE, shapeshifting, immortality, time travel, illusion, flight, casting spells, healing, ASTRAL PROJECTION, telekinesis, mind control… other stuff across multiple media projects. I’m actually gonna keep a lot of this, minus omnipresence and time travel cse that’s way too powerful. As a caveat morgies still gonna be stupid and goofy asl… and he’s not the bossy type. He’s also tooo young to be super strong he can only do low level versions of his mom’s powers… like he can only turn into a Cat, snake, small dragon, crow, and big wolf for his transformation powers currently. I like to think anything he turns into is always black with his serpent eyes. Actually I don’t think that’s just true in my universe. Also because he’s stupid it makes since for Merlin to be okay with him at his school. Since Morgies mom has literally hated him for like centuries atp.

Speaking of this still adds another layer to the “ why is Uliana in charge when her crew consists of gods and supernatural entities that are much more powerful than she is” all she has is tentacles…. And even hook could turn her into Sannakjii if he wanted to fr bro… 3/5ths of her crew are literal gods or god adjacent 💀

I think this picture sums up My Hook and Morgie pretty good… I have more goofy pictures I wanna do of them.

Yes I did give Morgie fangs and black fingertips… necromancer??… shapeshifter??… can’t help myself??

Dont worry Hook is still flamboyant and crazy, he’s just a little sad at the beginning. He meets Morgie at school right after Peter Pan cut his hand off and banished him from Neverland because Hook got a scholarship to Merlin’s academy and he wants to be a pirate… so yeah he’s pretty sadge and struggling to function with his hook 😥 he won’t let that stop him from finishing his Swashbuckling masters degree tho 💅SLAY WE LOVE AN EDUCATED KING EVEN THO HIS SON CANT COUNT. Morgie is also a weapons smith major and he imbues his shit with like dark souls so that’s pretty cool.

I’ll have more on Morgie after I finish the goofy pictures…

[suskz]

Illusion • h.js

w/c: 878

a/n: just a little thing inspired by a video I remembered from a couple of years ago. Enjoy!

The knife spread the butter over the bread he had just toasted. He felt like a chef, really, as he added sugar to everything, creating something so simple yet so delicious that he couldn't get enough of it.

It was you who introduced it to him for the first time, and to say that he went crazy for it from the first taste is an understatement.

“You like it so much,” he heard a sudden voice behind him. He felt his stomach tighten, but he still managed to swallow the bite, now used to the sensation. “Ah, what would you have done if I had never introduced it to you?” you hummed, a chuckle vibrating in your chest.

He smiled at your sweet voice as he continued eating, taking bite after bite, perhaps more quickly than he really wanted to. But he kept his back to you, not seeming to have any intention of turning around that time. He was so used to this.

“I’ll make you something for lunch and bring it to your study during the break, okay?”

He continued to ignore you, didn’t respond, because he knew you were lying. You never actually brought him lunch, it was just a lie.

“Jisungie, why aren’t you answering me?” Your voice was pouty and so sad, perhaps even desperate, and he could almost bet he heard you moving closer for a comforting hug and explanations from him, but it never happened.

And the same thing happened at lunch; you didn’t show up. He was so used to it that he fully expected it, but he wouldn’t lie if he said there was a small glimmer of hope in his heart that you would show up, at least once, just once.

In the end, it still hurt him a lot not to see you walk through that door as you had promised.

He had felt his chest tighten and had kept his eyes fixed on the study door for a few more minutes, hoping to see your figure maybe running toward him.

And he tried to hide how he felt, in order to deceive even— and especially— himself, as he always did, but he could feel that immense disappointment as clear as day.

And you were there waiting for him by the front door of your house when he came home from work, as always.

“How was your day, darling?”

But he had tried so hard to hide how he felt that it all burst out when you asked him that question.

It wasn’t a burst out in the literal sense, at least not outwardly. His voice was an uncertain whisper; he knew he shouldn’t talk about it, but he couldn’t help it. “You didn’t bring me lunch today either.” Was a pained mumble of deep disappointment.

“Oh, Jisungie, I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve been so busy today…”

He didn’t even let you finish this time; he didn’t want to. He already knew your excuses were just that, and he didn’t need to listen to them. His hand moved quickly to take a pill from the container and bring it to his lips, swallowing it with a few sips of water, while your voice grew increasingly distant, less audible, until it became just a faint memory.

But this didn’t make him feel relieved, not at all.

That’s why, when he got under the covers of his bed, he decided to accept the comfort of your sweet arms wrapping around him from behind. He knew he shouldn’t let you do this, he knew it wasn’t right, but fuck, he missed you. He missed your hugs and the comforting words that he needed more than ever at that moment. He missed leaning into your touch, feeling safe next to your sweet presence. He missed the soft little moments together that he felt he hadn’t enjoyed enough, missed the warmth of your voice waking him up in the morning and your sweet lips on his.

He turned in search of your eyes, looking for that warmth only you could give him. And his hazel, tired eyes met your soft irises, with a reassuring smile painting your face.

A “everything will be alright” written on your perfect, rosy lips.

But it only took one blink for him to realize that everything wouldn’t truly be alright, as he looked at your half of the bed, now empty and as cold as it had been for months, and he was brought back to the harsh, hard truth.

His eyes grew so wet that a salty drop fell onto the pillow, then became two, and soon unbroken tears. One of his hands weakly dragged across the bed, trembling as if unsure of that small, harmless movement, and rested on the spot where he had just seen you, gripping the sheet in such a desperate gesture that his knuckles turned white.

Because you weren’t there, and you would never be again; not after that damned car had crashed into you in the middle of the night on his birthday, just because you had the sweet, fucking idea of wishing him in person.

You were just a hallucination.

That’s what you were and what you would be for the rest of his life.

An illusion.