#is it terribly selfish of me to want you to drop everything and just talk to me all day?

[eraserbread]

so, you fucking hate toji fushiguro.

its everything about him, his values don't align with yours, he's cruel, talks to you like you're nothing, and only calls and texts on his time.

oh, he's away on a job? you won't hear from him in days. he surely doesn't have the decency to drop off money or food to megumi and tsumiki before he leaves. he always shrugs it off, saying: "it's not my job to take care of the brats."

so, why, if you hate him so much, can you never, ever say no?

if you can't stand his selfish nature, why is he standing in your living room, back turned to you, hands pressed to his hips?

you drop the paper grocery bag in your hand, it shatters the quiet environment. toji's head turns over his shoulder.

"just got back from feeding your children, don't mind me." you bite, tone laced with exhaustion and annoyance.

all he can do is chuckle -- laugh right in your face. "c'mon. don't be mean t'me,"

"i hate you, toji. i hate that you always come back.” you fling your purse and keys onto the floor, feet grinding into the wood as you approach him.

he’s looking at you now. can’t hide that smirk on his face when the ritual begins again. “yeah? hate me harder next time. then, the kids won’t have anyone to give a damn about them when i’m gone.”

“take off your clothes.” you growl into his lips, kissing him like a parched desert cat. he was so fucking terrible and cruel, but your body craves him. you dream about him. the sexual chemistry is staggering. it’s why you love his megumi like your own — god knows he deserves it, too.

“but, mama i’m hungry too. you got a mind to share?”

“just - shut up and take them off.”

he’s actually obedient, taking the tie of his pants and pulling it loose. he never wears underwear, so the heavy, brazen sight of his cock, already half hard for you, is normal.

this venomous exchange is normal.

he fucks you while you’re spewing hatred towards him, bent over in the kitchen with your dress hiked at the waist. he has your face buried in the cool countertop with a hand to your throat. it’s hard to breathe, but you never want him to stop.

you want to feel his body inside yours, scrambling your insides to mush all the time. it’s a feeling you can’t live without — fiend over and beg for. toji’s just happy to get his dick wet and loves the way you curse at him.

“right there — yeah. arch your back like a fucking slut, mama. god, you drive me crazy.” his thick hand slaps down on your ass, parting your cheeks so he can see the way his cock enters you so passionately. he’s puppeteering you like this, his words the only string you need to bend and bow to his every desire.

you curse him when you cum, creaming hotly around him until there’s no more fight in your bones. the after- sex guilt hits like a ton of bricks even when he’s fucking you like a toy. now, his only mission is getting himself off.

but, he still wants you present.

“the fuck ‘r you thinking about?” he growls, lifting your head with a fistful of hair. his muscles flex as he tugs you up, twisting his fist to get a better grip.

“cause no one’s gonna fuck you like i can.”

[gregmarriage]

i wonder what cupcake thinks about the fact that they’re on my mind practically 24/7, nowadays

[cherrylibby]

The Waiting Game

word cout: 1492

You and Hangman’s relationship had always been a tangled web—confusing, infuriating, and impossibly magnetic. A near-decade of history bound the two of you together, filled with fiery arguments that often teetered on the edge of something far more dangerous. For every biting insult Jake threw your way, he fought the overwhelming urge to press his lips against yours, to push you against the nearest wall, and lose himself in the chaos of you.

Then came the detachment mission. High stakes, adrenaline, and close calls. In the heat of it all, Jake finally gave in. He kissed you, hard and desperate, in the confined space of your shared bunk room. It was wild, raw, and messy—a moment of surrender neither of you could deny. But when the mission ended, so did Jake’s acknowledgment of what had happened. He acted as if nothing had changed, as if you hadn’t nearly died and left a piece of yourself with him.

The dance continued—a few more clandestine hookups, moments of passion followed by an endless, aching void. Now, standing at the Hard Deck, you watched him flirt with a stunning Lieutenant named Echo. Jealousy coiled in your chest, sharp and bitter. Was it really too much to ask for consistency, for something real?

You sat at the bar, nursing a drink and doing everything in your power to block out the sight of him.

After a few long minutes, Jake’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and taunting as always. “You know it’s rude not to say hi when you see me, Spitfire.”

Without looking up, you muttered, “Go away, Jake.”

His scoff was almost amused, but it carried a thread of disbelief. After bidding Echo goodbye, he slid onto the stool beside you. His smirk was maddening as he ordered a beer.

“Don’t act so sour. It doesn’t suit you,” he teased, his tone light but his gaze heavy as it lingered on your profile. His voice dropped, low and smug. “You should stop being so jealous. You’re terrible at hiding it.”

You clenched your jaw and stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his eyes. But when his words landed, your composure cracked. Your vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling over before you could stop them.

“This is just a joke to you, huh?” Your voice broke as you finally turned to him, tears streaking your cheeks.

Jake’s smirk faltered, his cocky mask slipping. He blinked, caught off guard by your raw emotion. “You’re crying?” His voice was laced with genuine surprise, even a hint of concern.

“Just leave me alone,” you whispered, shaking your head and turning away.

Jake sighed, his tone softening as he leaned closer. “Hey… look, I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t realize—” His words faltered as he reached out, his fingers brushing your chin. He gently tilted your head so you were forced to meet his gaze.

His eyes searched yours, softer than you’d ever seen them. “Talk to me,” he murmured, his voice quiet and trembling. “Please.”

You swallowed hard, your chest heaving with unshed sobs. “Why do you care now?” you whispered, bitterness seeping into your words. “You never cared before.”

Jake’s face fell, his brows knitting together. “That’s not true,” he insisted, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Your voice was barely audible, but it hit Jake like a punch to the gut.

His eyes widened, panic flickering across his face. “W-what do you mean?” he stammered, his grip on your chin loosening.

“I can’t keep waiting for you to pick me,” you said, tears spilling freely now.

Jake’s breath hitched as the weight of your words settled over him. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his hand falling away as he stared ahead, unable to meet your gaze. He was selfish—he knew that. He wanted it all, wanted you, but he’d been too afraid to commit.

“…But you’re the only one I want,” he said finally, his voice breaking. “I can’t lose you. I can’t imagine it.”

And then, something you never expected: Jake’s voice cracked, and his eyes shimmered with unshed tears. He turned back to you, his expression vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before.

“I know I’ve been an ass,” he said, his voice shaking. “I push you away because I’m scared, okay? I’m terrified. Of losing you, of screwing this up. Of not being enough for you.”

A single tear slid down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away, but his composure was slipping. “You’re not just some fling to me, Y/N. You never were. You’re… you’re everything. And I don’t know how to be the guy you deserve, but God, I want to try. I’ll do whatever it takes, just… don’t walk away.”

The silence between you was heavy, his words hanging in the air. Jake’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he waited, his heart on the line for the first time in his life.

“I need time,” you admitted softly, your voice trembling.

“Please,” Jake started, leaning toward you, his desperation palpable. “Let me—”

“Jake,” you interrupted, your eyes meeting his. “Please. Just give me time.”

Jake’s breath hitched, and he nodded slowly, his chest heaving as he tried to hold back another wave of emotion. “I’ll wait,” he promised, his voice cracking. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.”

The silence between you was heavy but laced with hope. Jake’s heart was on the line, and for once, he was willing to risk everything.

The accident happened on a routine flight—a bird strike, engine failure, and an emergency ejection. The force of it left you battered and bruised, but alive. Barely. By the time the rescue team found you, you were unconscious and bleeding, your flight suit torn and scorched.

When Jake got the news, he felt the ground drop from beneath him. The call came through from the base, and he didn’t even wait for the details. He raced to the hospital, his heart pounding in his chest, a silent prayer tumbling from his lips over and over: Please let her be okay. Please.

Hours later, Jake stood in the sterile hospital hallway, staring through the glass window into your room. You lay there, pale and fragile, machines beeping steadily around you. It felt wrong—you were never fragile. You were a force of nature, strong and defiant. Seeing you like this twisted something deep inside him.

The nurse gave him a small nod, allowing him to enter. Jake pushed the door open and stepped inside, his boots heavy against the tile floor. He hesitated at the foot of your bed, his hands trembling as he clenched them into fists.

“Spifire…” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound, groggy but aware. When your gaze met his, tears immediately welled in your eyes.

“Jake,” you croaked, your voice barely audible.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. Jake dropped into the chair beside your bed, his head falling into his hands as his shoulders began to shake. It took a moment before you realized he was crying. Crying. Jake Seresin, the cocky, unflappable Hangman, was breaking apart before your eyes.

“I thought I lost you,” he choked out, his voice raw with emotion. “God, Y/n, when they told me what happened, I—” He shook his head, his tears spilling freely now.

“I’ve been such a damn fool,” he continued, his voice thick. “I’ve spent so much time pushing you away, pretending like what we have doesn’t matter because I was scared. Scared of what it would mean to love you. But I do,  Y/n. I love you so much it scares the hell out of me.”

Your breath hitched, tears streaming down your cheeks as you listened to him bare his soul.

Jake reached for your hand, his fingers trembling as they closed around yours. “I can’t lose you. I won’t survive it. You’re the best thing in my life, and I’ve been too blind to see it until now. Please,  Y/n… give me another chance. Let me be the man you deserve. I swear, I’ll spend every day making it up to you.”

You stared at him, overwhelmed by the raw, unfiltered vulnerability in his eyes. Despite the pain coursing through your body, you managed a small, trembling smile.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jake,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm. “But you have to promise me… no more games. No more running.”

Jake nodded fervently, his grip on your hand tightening. “No more games,” he vowed, his voice steady despite the tears still streaming down his face. “I’m all in,  Y/n. For you, for us.”

The room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the monitors and the sound of Jake’s quiet sniffles as he leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. For the first time in years, the tension between you dissolved, replaced by something deeper, something real.

[babyflorencee]

More Than Friends

Nerdrry x Cheerleader!Reader

Harry adjusted his glasses nervously as the football game carried on around him, the noise of the crowd buzzing in his ears. He wasn’t really paying attention to the scoreboard; his focus was fixed entirely on the sidelines where Y/n stood, pom-poms in hand, the brightest smile on her face as she cheered with the rest of the squad. She always looked happy during games, but tonight she looked radiant. The floodlights illuminated her like something out of a heavenly dream, and Harry found himself unable to look away.

He knew it wasn’t smart—falling for his best friend. Y/n was popular, the kind of girl everyone wanted to be around. And Harry? He was the nerdy kid who got shoved into lockers a little too often and spent more time in the library than he did talking to people. Still, somehow, Y/n had decided he was worth her time. They’d been inseparable for years, and every single day he reminded himself how lucky he was to have her as a friend. Just a friend.

But lately, being just her friend wasn’t enough anymore.

Harry sighed, pulling his hoodie tighter around himself as he forced his eyes away from Y/n. He didn’t stand a chance. Why would she ever look at him that way when she could have anyone else—like, say, the football player currently strolling over to her with a cocky grin plastered across his face?

Harry froze, his stomach twisting as he watched the interaction. The guy leaned in close, saying something that made Y/n laugh—a genuine, full laugh that Harry usually got to hear when they hung out. And now, here she was, sharing it with someone else.

The football player said something else, pointing toward the bleachers, and Y/n's eyes scanned the crowd. For a moment, they landed on Harry, and she smiled brightly, waving at him like she always did.

Harry waved back weakly before quickly looking down at his sneakers.

He felt sick.

***

Y/n found Harry sitting alone after the game, a half-empty bottle of soda in his hand as he stared at the ground. She sat down on the bench beside him with her usual enthusiasm, nudging his shoulder with her own.

“Hey, what’s up? You look like someone just shoved you into a locker.”

Harry managed a small, embarrassed laugh. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Y/n squinted at him skeptically. “You’re a terrible liar. You’ve been acting weird all night. Did something happen?”

Harry shook his head, unwilling to meet her eyes. “Nope. Everything’s great.”

Y/n huffed, crossing her arms. “Okay, spill it. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Harry mumbled, fiddling with the label on his soda.

“Is this about that football player?” Y/n asked suddenly.

Harry flinched, and Y/n's eyebrows shot up. “It is, isn’t it? Harry, seriously, what is going on?”

“It’s nothing, Y/n/n,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “Can we just drop it?”

“No, we can’t drop it,” she shot back, her tone a mix of confusion and frustration. “You’re my best friend, H. If something’s bothering you, you can tell me. That’s kind of what I’m here for, you know?”

Harry looked up at her, and the concern in her eyes almost undid him. She was so kind to him, so effortlessly warm, and he didn’t deserve it—not when he’d been jealous all night like some moody, selfish kid. He ran a hand through his messy curls, finally meeting her gaze.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he said with a weak smile. “I promise.”

“Harry,” she said softly, her voice laced with patience, “just tell me. Please?”

He hesitated, feeling his pulse quicken. She was so close, watching him with such kindness, and he felt like he might break apart under her gaze. He looked back down, his fingers fidgeting with the cap of his soda bottle. “I just… I don’t like seeing you with guys like that,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It… it makes me feel weird.”

Y/n blinked, her expression softening. “Weird how?”

Harry let out a shaky breath, his cheeks burning. “Because… I care about you. I mean, I really care about you. And seeing some guy like him flirting with you just… I don’t know. It makes me feel small.”

Y/n stared at him, her face unreadable. “H… are you saying you like me?”

Harry swallowed hard, every instinct telling him to backpedal, to laugh it off, to change the subject—but the words slipped out before he could stop them. “Yeah. I do. But it’s not a big deal, okay? I get it—you don’t feel the same way. You don’t have to say anything.”

“Why would you think that?” Y/n asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

Harry let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Come on, Y/n/n. Just look at you. You’re gorgeous, and funny, and confident, and… I’m just... well me. I’m a mess. I’m awkward, I’m not very good-looking, and I… I know you’re just trying to let me down easy. And I appreciate it. I really do.”

“Harry,” Y/n said sharply, “stop it.”

But he couldn’t stop now; the words kept tumbling out like a dam had burst. “It’s fine. Really. You’re too nice to tell me the truth, and that’s okay. I’m not mad. I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to pity me or something because I’m—”

Y/n grabbed his face and kissed him.

Harry froze completely, his thoughts screeching to a halt. When she pulled back, she fixed him with a firm stare, her face flushed. "Harry, stop it."

“You… you kissed me,” Harry stammered, his voice cracking. “Why… why did you—”

“Because I like you, you oblivious dork,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes with a fond smile. “And I don’t want to hear you say one more word about me pitying you, or you not being good-looking, or whatever nonsense you’ve convinced yourself of. Because I think that you’re really, really cute.”

Harry gawked at her, completely at a loss. “You… think I’m cute?”

Y/n laughed softly, nudging him playfully. “Yes, H. I think you’re cute. I’ve always thought you were cute.”

Harry's face turned bright red, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Y/n teased, grinning at his dumbfounded expression.

Then it hit him—really hit him. Y/n liked him.  Y/n liked him back. His face split into the biggest, most ecstatic smile she’d ever seen, like the sheer force of his joy might launch him into the stratosphere. “Oh my God,” he breathed, laughing giddily as he ran both hands through his hair. “You… you like me? You actually like me?!”

Y/n giggled, watching him in amusement as he practically bounced on the bench. “Yes, Harry! I just said that!”

“I can’t believe this,” Harry said, shaking his head with wide eyes. “This is—this is insane. I mean—you—you’re you! And I’m—oh my God, this is the best day of my life!”

Y/n laughed so hard she had to clutch her stomach. “You’re such a dork.”

Harry let out a joyous, breathless laugh, turning to look at her with hearts in his eyes. “Yeah. But now I’m your dork.”

Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling as her laughter softened into something warmer. “Yeah, you are.”

[teleit]

Sometimes I hate this show, and then I come to my senses and just despise it

I'm a feminist because I'm a woman and deserve all rights and opportunities. But this show, I swear to God, does everything it can to make me feel like a terrible person.

The show's adult Rhaenyra is just…ugh. There were a thousand ways to transfer her personality, actions, and decisions from page to screen, and the writers chose the worst possible one. Somehow, they managed to strip her of her personal qualities while simultaneously filling her to the brim with other people's accomplishments.

Young Rhaenyra was practically perfect, given the changes the writers made to the book plot. She was a young, capricious, selfish girl whose world collapsed in an instant, and she had to find her way on her own. She was unpleasant, nasty, mocking, charismatic, charming, sweet - and very real. Her actions could be condemned or supported, she was interesting to watch, and I loved her. Not everything Rhaenyra did was to my liking, but when she was on screen, I watched her without taking my eyes off.

Adult Rhaenyra is literally Frankenstein's monster, assembled from incomprehensible junk from the attic of Condall and Hess. She does not have a drop of the charm that young Rhaenyra had, as if they were written by completely different people. Every questionable action of hers is whitewashed, 90% of her decisions and achievements are recycled and reused plots of other characters from the books, any actions are extolled to the skies. It's like eating cold unsalted French fries, you feel punished for some unknown sins by tasteless crap.

I want to love Rhaenyra, I really tried the entire half of the first season and whole second to feel at least a little love for this homunculus, but it is simply impossible. Just when I'm starting to sympathize with Rhaenyra grieving so heartbreakingly for her son and wanting justice, and getting involved in show, the writers decide to indulge their nun fetish and have Rhaenyra dress up as a septa and go talk to Alicent about some useless bullshit. One minute she's not afraid to defend her opinion, the next she's playing Mother of Dragons 2.0 (Vermithor scene was indescribable cringe, as was posing with a goofy grin with three dragons while Aemond scampers away with his bloodthirsty granny). Here's Rhaenyra having a great dialogue scene with her son, and here she is kissing a SA victim who just shared her tragic backstory, but don't worry, it's very romantic and everyone is happy.

And it wouldn't be nearly as bad as it feels if Rhaenyra were like young Rhaenyra, whose flaws were real and not smoothed over by the constant reminder that this woman was the best thing to happen to the world since the invention of latte macchiato. Young Rhaenyra, if she were in the sept with Alicent, would have yelled at the woman, risked getting caught, and wouldn't have been shy about reminding Jace who was in charge and that he had no right to scold her. Would she have been right, or smart in her actions? Still no, but she wouldn't be hailed as fair, peaceful and perfect - she'd be a selfish, confused, grieving woman who'd lost so much and was desperately trying to figure out how to salvage what was left and take back what was taken.

The show does everything it can to make me despise Rhaenyra. She's selfish, self-righteous, smug, arrogant, delusional, self-important, dumb as a rock, spineless, one-dimensional cheap knockoff of Daenerys from the early seasons of Game of Thrones. And the worst part is that all of these qualities would be interesting if the show would just stop holding me by the balls and demanding that I must love and adore her for every little thing because Rhaenyra is always right, the best girl in the world, worthy of all praise, and perfect to the core. Let me decide for myself whether I want to like a character or not, because unlike some people, I have an IQ above room temperature and can empathize with a complex, ambiguous character with adult morals, not just Bloom from Winx in a white wig.

I constantly have to remind myself that it's okay to dislike a female character if she's written terribly, and that doesn't make me a bad person.

Ps. Still not native speaker and dgaf about mistakes, english can suck my imaginary dick; apparently somehow part of text was translate in my native language wtf

[koyagifs]

𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

pairing: san x reader au: ex lovers to lovers genre: angst but happy ending word count: 1.093 words summary: san asked to meet up wanting to get you back. warning(s): mentions of cheating, swearing, pregnancy part 1 | part 2 | part 3

There you and San sat at the restaurant, swirling the cup of wine as you both sat there in silence. The soft clinking of glasses and the distant hum of conversation created a cozy backdrop. You glanced at San, who seemed lost in thought, his brow slightly furrowed. The warm light from the overhead lamps cast a gentle glow on his face, highlighting the tension in the moment.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally broke the silence, lifting your glass to take a sip.

San looked up, a hint of surprise in his eyes, and smiled faintly. "I'm just surprised you agreed to meet me"

You hummed, " well, you still haven't signed the papers and Hongjoong and I broke up. A mutual agreeing"

San raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and hope flashing across his face. “Sorry to hear about Hongjoong”

You shrugged, " like i said, it was a mutual break up. Now, why did you ask to meet hm?"

San hesitated for a moment, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass. “I wanted to talk about… everything, I guess. I know things have been complicated between us.”

You leaned back, taking a sip of wine to give them a moment. A small chuckle leaving your lips. " oh yes, complicated"

" so complicated that you decided to cheat on me"

San winced at you words, the atmosphere shifted instantly, the warmth replaced by an uncomfortable tension. San’s expression fell, and he looked down at their glass, the humor draining from the moment.

“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” San said quietly, their voice barely above a whisper. “It was a mistake—a moment of weakness.”

You felt a mix of frustration and hurt rising within you. “A mistake that changed everything. "

“Everything,” you echoed, your voice tight. “I thought we had something real, San. And then… this.”

San ran a hand through their hair, looking genuinely pained. “I know I messed up. I didn’t think about the consequences at the time. I was selfish.”

“Selfish?” You couldn’t hide the disbelief in your voice. “That’s an understatement. You didn’t just hurt me; you shattered my trust.”

San looked up, eyes filled with regret. “I understand. I wish I could take it back. But I want to be honest now. I want to fix this.”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, the weight of their words hanging heavy between you. “It’s not just about wanting to fix things. Trust takes time to rebuild. Do you really think we can get back to where we were?”

San nodded, determination in their eyes. “I believe we can. But it has to start with me being completely open. No more hiding.”

You studied their expression, searching for sincerity. “If we’re going to try, I need to know you’re committed to this. No more mistakes.”

“I promise,” San said earnestly. “I want to be better for you—if you’ll give me the chance.”

The tension hung in the air, but beneath it, you sensed a flicker of possibility. The wine cup now empty was placed on the table. San reached out for your hands, taking them into his.

" yn... i can never forgive myself for breaking your trust. What i did - i did it out of spite, which i know i shouldn't have done."

You felt the warmth of San’s hands enveloping yours, grounding you in the moment. “Spite?” you repeated, the word heavy with meaning. “That’s a hard truth to swallow.”

San’s gaze dropped for a moment, the weight of regret evident on their face. “I know. I was angry and confused, and instead of talking to you, I made a terrible choice. I thought it would make me feel better, but it only made things worse.”

You took a deep breath, processing his words. “ do you know how hard it was to pose with you? To act like everything was okay between us? San we basically faked our relationship - hell, no one still knows we're started our divorce process!"

San grip tighten on your hands, " i know - i was so focus on not disappointing our families that i neglected you in the process."

You sighed, laying back into your seat as you looked at San. " i'll talk to my lawyer about dropping the divorce. "

San’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and relief washing over his face. You held your hand up, " i'm expecting you to be by the house sunday San. We'll go on a date, publicly."

San nodded his head, "i'm expecting you to also break up with your mistress"

" she's been gone, the day you left with Hongjoong was when i broke it off with her"

You nodded, standing up. San placed a few bills before he stood up at well, holding his hand out for you to grab.

" I'll see you Sunday"

──･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.────

" i think this color would suit the nursey better, don't you think honey?"

San turned to you, a smile placed on his lip as he nodded his head. He walked towards you, placing a hand on your swollen belly that now carries his future daughter.

You felt a warmth spread through you as San's hand rested gently on your belly. “I think you’re right,” he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Soft pastels will make the nursery feel so calm and welcoming.”

You glanced at the swatches spread out on the table, each color reminding you of the little one you were about to welcome. “I just want her to feel safe and loved in her space.”

San nodded, his smile widening. “She will, especially with you as her mom. You have such a beautiful vision for her room.”

You felt a flutter of joy at his words. “And you’ll be a wonderful dad, too. I can already see you reading her bedtime stories.”

“Definitely,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. He squatted, his face now at your belly. He placed fluttering kisses, the smile on your face evident of pure happiness. You placed a hand on his hair, brushing away a few strain as he muttered loving words to your belly.

“Let’s make it perfect for her,” you said, your heart swelling with love.

“Together,” San replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your forehead. “We’re building our family, and I can’t wait to start this new chapter with you.”

In that moment, everything felt right.

[literaila]

In keeping secrets we see reader worried that sorcery would rid megumi of a normal life but what if we got megumi assuring reader that he wanted to choose this life and that she didn’t have to worry or something along those lines 😭

“we still don’t have to do this. there are plenty of high schools—“

“can you just drop it?”

you look over to megumi, trying to smile. as if he’s not going to see right through that. as if he hasn’t known you since you were practically his age, and as if you don’t actively discourage lying any chance you get.

it’s different for adults, okay?

“i’m serious, megumi.”

he raises a brow. you can tell he’s at least a little bit amused—if only because you’ve seen the same glint in his eyes when he hides satoru’s blindfolds around the house. “so am i.”

your face is pained. “you don’t have to listen to satoru. or tsumiki. or me, even.”

“when have i ever?”

you nudge him with your arm, trying to relax every tense muscle in your body.

is it just pure instinct to protect him from this? or are you actually scared, worried that megumi wouldn’t argue with satoru, isn’t comfortable enough to tell you that—

“can you stop freaking out about this?”

“do i look like i’m freaking out?”

megumi stares at you blankly.

“okay,” you look back down to the paperwork in front of you. you wonder if this is how satoru feels anytime he says anything to the kid. you should probably be nicer to him. “maybe i’m freaking out. but it’s only because dad was supposed to do this with you.”

megumi looks briefly horrified.

“take me or leave me, kid.”

he shakes his head. “you’re better than that bonehead.”

you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “okay, you really gotta get over the movie thing—“

“no i don’t—“

“it was an accident.”

megumi crosses his arms. “why are you defending him? he ruined the entire series for me.”

you roll your eyes. “you think by now you’d know not to talk to him about movies.”

“you think by now he’d know not to spoil the entire thing,” megumi mocks.

you snort.

“why are you so… weird about this anyway? you went there. so did gojo.”

“and look how he turned out.”

megumi gives you a grin—meaning his cheek twitches and he blinks at you.

“it’s just… you really don’t have to go. i know satoru goes on and on about taking responsibility, and acknowledging strength. and i know that tsumiki thinks you should do whatever you can to help people but—“ you stop. bite your cheek. “you don’t have to go, megumi. you can be a normal person. become a doctor or something.”

“i can barely deal with my classmates,” he says, “why would i want to interact with sick people on a daily basis?”

you scoff. “first of all, it was a hypothetical.”

“that’s a terrible suggestion.”

you tilt your head at him. “you’re smart,” you say, “you’re kind. you’re handsome—“ you reach a hand out to pinch his cheek, but he grabs it—like an instinct.

but you take what you can get, so you squeeze it, smiling at him—but really this time.

because he’s so much more than you could’ve asked for.

tsumiki and megumi are your good luck charms, if anything. a sign for your younger self that everything would be okay.

they’re so much more than teenagers should be, so much more than satoru or you deserve.

but you’re not going to complain. the world is shit, and the gifts you’ve been given will never leave your grasp.

still…

“you could do whatever you want with your life, megs. anything. it doesn’t have to be jujutsu.”

“this is what i want to do.”

you let go of his hand, looking back down. “are you sure?”

megumi makes a noise, crossing his arms. “why don’t you trust me?”

“it’s got nothing to do with you,” you retort, sitting up. “but you grew up with satoru telling you who you’re supposed to be—“

“i have never listened to anything he’s told me—“

“so if you decide this isn’t you, that’s okay. i need you to know that it’s okay to do whatever you want. it’s not selfish, or irresponsible. it’s human.”

there’s a moment of silence.

you stare down at the table and wonder how many times you had to repeat those words—just to believe them.

you wonder how many years it took before you decided to act however you saw fit, and not bend to the wills of fate.

what will happen to megumi, whatever he chooses?

how are you supposed to protect him from the future?

“mom,” he says, breaking the silence. not a question.

“hmm?”

you’re tapping your fingers on the table, not looking at him.

god, satoru should’ve filled out the paperwork with him. he wouldn’t have scared the kid into changing his mind. he wouldn’t have even said anything.

“i want to do this,” megumi whispers to you. “i—there was never any question for me. i’ve never wanted to do anything else.”

you look at him. he’s staring back—his eyes so stern and mature, it almost makes you want to cry.

all you can do is nod. there’s no way to voice your fears to a fourteen year old, no way to make him understand.

but that’s okay. that’s why you have satoru.

“and you don’t need to worry about me. worry about gojo, or something, instead.”

you laugh. “i do worry about dad, and you, and tsumiki. all of the time. i can’t stop now.”

“well, try.”

you shake your head, messing with his hair. “nuh-uh. you’re my little boy. i’ll always be worried about you.”

megumi makes a face, and you laugh again.

“okay,” you take a breath. “let’s finish these papers. hopefully satoru and tsumiki will be back by then.”

“did they—“

it’s then that the front door opens, satoru’s signature slam ringing down the hallway.

“speak of the devil,” you whisper. megumi just sighs.

“oh goodness,” satoru says, as he walks down the hall. “my son and my wife, sitting at the same table. isn’t that funny?”

“we’re busy, satoru.”

satoru pouts at you, setting a bag on the table. “but we brought dinner,” he says, “and presents.”

“where’s tsumiki?” megumi asks.

“she’s getting the—“

and then tsumiki rounds the corner, holding at least five different shopping bags.

“satoru!” you hit his arm. “go help her.”

“what? she’s fine. woman are strong, you know? don’t underestimate their strength.”

tsumiki laughs, setting the bags down on a chair.

“you’re gonna learn just how strong a woman is when i—“

“what are you guys doing? homework?”

you glare at him. “we’re filling out the papers yaga gave us. the ones you were supposed to do a week ago.”

he grins at you, leaning down to leave a loud kiss on your cheek. then he pulls you so your face is pressed against his thigh. “has she cried yet?” he asks megumi.

“we’re getting there.”

[senawashere]

We're on this together. (Chapter I)

Bradley Bradshaw × Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Nobody warned you for how hard it is to become a mother,same for Bradley.

TW: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.

Tears were streaming down your face,your hands were trembling. Searching for Bradley's number in your contact list has never been this difficult.

Your fingers slid across parts of the screen you didn't want to touch, making your frustration even worse.

The phone line rang at a deafening volume. Once, twice, three times until it goes to voicemail.

His stupid voicemail.

"Hi,its me Bradley. Please drop your message!"

Taking this as a sign, you chose not to try again.

After all, talking to Bradley about it right now would only make him worry for nothing, considering he was busy on deployment and miles away from you. He was about to return this week.

It wasn't something he could solve. Maybe it was but not right now.

Within a few minutes your phone rang. As his name popped up on the screen, a heart emoji next to it and his photo of him grinning stupidly, you felt terrible for doing this to him.

Not only did you let down your own dreams, you were about to let down his too.

You replied, remaining silent. You expected your voice to sound like a lump in your throat.

"Baby, are you there? I couldn't get to the phone in time at first."

You were motionless, your lack of words showed him that. "I'm fine", giving yourself some time, you suddenly started to feel everything you didn't feel until you got home.

"I was at the doctor's today."

"Why are you talking like it's the end of the world? Are you okay?"

Throughout his breathing, it was easy to imagine him even stopping whatever he was doing to pay better attention to you; Not because it wasn't there before. You should have called Penny or someone, they would know how to take care of you.

"Wait, is it about babies? Tell me you're joking," he finished with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You could imagine and hear it perfectly.

In the past, when you received good news, you would pretend that something bad was coming, now it's just another thing you regret doing.

You were selfish for talking to him, he was so far away; You could talk to him about it when he got home.

Talking and doing this and that now would cause him more anxiety than he ever had in his hectic daily tour life. Still, he was the only one you needed.

"No, quite the opposite."

The call suffered a long pause, filled with his deep sighs and persistent tears streaming down his cheeks.

You didn't let a single tear fall until you got home, but did you verbalize it? Putting it into words made things different; it felt more real.

"Fuck," he mumbled, clearly a little out of place.

“I can't have kids, Bradley,” your words were interrupted by the growl you were trying to hold back.

He could tell when you were talking to him that everything hit you at once. Over the years, he was able to recognize even small details.

''I'm the reason we tried and it never worked. I cursed it."

"No, baby," he took a deep breath. "Please don't blame yourself. You know it's not your fault." You ran your fingers desperately through your hair; This is what it must be like to feel useless on the phone. Just what you imagined before you made the call. It was bad to announce this to him. "Are you alone? I can ask someone to check on you. They’ll do that, okay?

“Please,” You didn't want to spend the rest of the day by yourself. Also, even though you didn't want to talk to anyone but Bradley, you knew Penny would understand you better, she knew how to make you feel less bad, it would be nice to be around her. And once she mentioned she went through something like that so maybe she would understand you.

Being alone with your harsh thoughts will not be a good option anyway. "I thought about calling her, but I finally gave up, I didn't know what to do, I still don't. Calling you still doesn't seem like a good idea, but I didn't know what to do."

Your weak voice was killing Bradley. If it made him sad to hear that, he couldn't imagine what it was like for you.

"You did great, baby, this is a tough situation but we're on this journey together. You can ask for anything baby, remember?" He smiled, a muffled smile came over the line; It made you feel a little better.

"We can still have children, you know that."

You wanted to tell him that what works for others may not work for you, that your condition may not be that malleable because your condition is genetic. Still, you didn't know if they were true or not, all your thoughts might just be the result of your momentary frustration, but they might also be true.

You need to talk to Bradley about this, everything that's going on in his mind. You didn't want to do this over the phone anymore.

“We can try,” you sniffled, still avoiding the tears you didn't even know were falling. "We can try." You repeated, trying to convince yourself.

"Talk to me, baby. Try to distract yourself a bit, huh? Please. Do you want me to turn the call off? Maybe you can take a long bath with your favorite bubbles or eat something different. That might help."

Even though it sounded wrong, his desperation to help you was adorable. Talking to him made everything perfect, his voice was soothing, you could hear him talking for hours. Now it was no different.

“I just want to hear your voice,” you said, lying on the cold floor of the main room. It would be nice to sleep. It seemed reasonable to forget the previous hours for a few minutes. "You are busy?"

"Not exactly."

"Then tell me how the mission went."

His voice sounded flatter and softer, you could imagine how uneasy he was even from the phone, it was possible to imagine him striding around the room with the phone in his hand. He talked about the mission details the night before. The contrast of how you described your previous day with what happened at the right moment was painful, happy and suddenly you were breaking it.

Everyone knew that Bradley dreamed of having kids, that kids were running around the house and so were you, you wanted to have kids with him even more but with you he would never have one.

"Can I say something?" You asked, taking a deep breath,cutting through his words. "I love you,I love you so much."

Everything was unfair, you both tried so hard. He, too, had become weak from trying, just like you.

"I love you too, baby. This," you could see him in your mind, pausing and gesturing with his hands, "this won't change anything,okay? I still love you so much as the day i fell in love with you."

"We are on this journey together."

"We are on this journey together.”

—-----

Your body trembled.

A cold hand was wandering around your waist as you slowly opened your eyes, feeling a ridiculous headache fill your vision. Your eyes found Bradley crouched on the ground in front of you, and he looked good compared to you. His eye bags were not purple from the 4 hour sleep he was getting,or his hair wasn't messy after the cold,rainy and windy weather out there.

"What are you doing here?" You frowned. Bradley chuckled as you laid your head down once the headache made you feel like you were going to throw up. He could answer your question but you were flattered, he wouldn't think you noticed he was there because he knew you needed him.

So he ignored it, helping you get up.

"Come on, get up. It's cold on the floor, I'll put you to bed." He tried to get you to stand up for him - he failed; but you shifted your weight onto his body, wrapping your arms around his neck, which he found worriedly cute.

“I need you,” you whispered, drunk and sleepy, burying your face in his coat. Let its scent warm you. He smelled amazing.

It was a relief to hear him say that. He didn't want to get into an argument about how it would affect his job in the near future, as you had fought before for the same reason. "I know my baby." He kissed your hair, hugged your waist, and carried you to your room. “She wants to lay down with me.”

He laid you down on the bed, doing the same as he lay on your side, face up and facing the white ceiling.

They both knew it was necessary to speak, but neither knew who should speak first or what they should speak about.

You ran your fingers over his stomach, placing your palm under his shirt, warming his cold hand with your body. You moved closer to his body, nestling into his side as he wrapped his arm around you.

"Tell me, what's on your mind?" He said without looking directly at you.

"There's a lot", your mere words made his throat dry. “It's weird knowing your body can't do what it's supposed to do, especially when you want it to,” you gasped through sobs, his grip pulling you closer to his chest for comfort. "I'm afraid you'll stay with me and a few years from now you'll realize you made the wrong choice." These words hurt him. It hurt him so much to see you blaming yourself.

He hugged you even tighter and asked you to look at him. "I'm not going to leave you, okay? I'm in love with you. That won't change, and it's not your fault. We can try IVF as if it will work, and it's worked for a few people, and we'll have a happy and healthy baby. We have the money for it. If the money I make as a pilot isn't enough, i can even find a part-time job. I can enter just for you, I'm married to you and I love you so much, why should I leave you?"

There were tears in your eyes and you hoped he was right. "What if it doesn't work? If my body miscarries? If we try and never succeed? I don't know if I'm ready to try again-"

Before you finished your sentence, he grabbed your cheek and gave you a messy kiss. He was far from okay, he was desperate, you didn't know how to decipher whether he was trying to silence you or show his emotions. The salty taste of your tears accompanied by the burning in his throat didn't help at all.

You put your hand on his chest and stop him. He was in distress, he probably wanted to stop you with a waterfall of negative thoughts but he didn't know how.

“I don't want to try, I just don't know what to do yet, and it's killing me right now.” You were complaining.

He kissed your forehead and let you lie down.

"We will find a way. It's still new, we can think better or find other ways. Adoption is also a good option, but of course if everything happens at the right time."

You stayed silent for a while, imagining a parallel where Bradley was right and things worked out. Although you were still not convinced by this, you agreed with him. After all, there would be no other way, and you still wanted to have children.

“Adoption sounds good,” you mumbled against his chest. You hadn't thought about it yet, it hadn't even crossed your mind. “There is no risk and there is no way we can go wrong.”

You felt relieved that he was there for you, guiding you to feel better about this.

"You see?" he asked with what looked like a weak smile. "We'll find a way because I don't plan on having kids with anyone but you, so it has to be with you. Whether you like it or not." He joked, drawing a smile from you as he touched your nose with a wet kiss.

It was incredible how he managed to make even the most difficult moments seem lighter.

"Good, because I still want to have your stupid kids.”

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REBLOGS,LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE HIGLY APPERICATED🤍🤍🤍

[hihello-pinky]

middle of the night

last installment to the After 8PM mini series (yep, calling it that) hehe

part one | part two

suna rintarou x afab reader!

angst to fluff, ig

latter part is not edited and written during the middle of the night (intended)

likes and reblogs will be appreciated! xoxo

leave me love? (tips!)

***

almost everyone will agree that finding something to dislike about hani nakamura is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

you remember the first time you overhear that statement at lunch in the cafeteria, and you laughing a little to yourself. you can’t even blame the gossiping students because that’s just how nice hani is.

however, you should have known that when trying to find a needle in a haystack, you begin to doubt its existence until you feel a prick and you’re bleeding and the needle already got you.

the pain you’re currently feeling is far akin to a small prick as you replay the conversation you had with suna at the convenience store in the middle of the night again and again and again.

“what did you want to talk about that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” he had asked.

you had taken a deep breath before replying, the words came out of you quickly, as if your bravery for confessing has a timer. “well, i… i have something to tell you. it’s actually a bit selfish of me to say this to you but… i like you as more than just a friend, rin, and it’s been a while now. i’m sorry for suddenly springing this unto you but i just have this need to confess or else i would feel like exploding inside. you don’t have to say anything; you can choose to interact less with me from now on but yeah, i just really needed to get it off of my chest.”

suna had surprised you with his reaction. he had a deep frown on his face and given you an accusing look. “do you really not want me to be happy?”

“huh?”

“for fuck’s sake, y/n, i know about your little game! hani told me everything. you dropping all the hints all those months ago, fueling whatever sort of feelings i had for you, playing with my heart, when you only want to use me to be closer to osamu. i even chose to ignore those because i know we’re young and inclined to do stupid, bad things. but damn! can’t you just leave me alone?”

and you were so dumbstruck by what he had told you that you were only able to look at him in disbelief.

“cat got your tongue?” he bitterly asked before breaking eye contact.

you shook your head after you had processed what he said and with a defeated sigh, said, “we’ve been friends for two years. did you really believe i was that kind of person? why didn’t you ask me to confirm it? and most importantly, i grew up with the miyas so why would i even use you to get to osamu, who, by the way, is like a brother to me? you know what, suna? maybe you’re right. i should leave you alone. i don’t deserve to be around someone who would easily believe lies about me.”

you feel tears roll down your cheeks as you force your mind to stop the reel of what would probably be the last time you ever talked to suna. not for the first time, you wish to never have called him and asked to meet. oh, to only have sucked the pain up and not confess to him. maybe the heartbreak would be less than what you have to deal with right now.

the concerned look on his face as he met you in the convenience store doesn’t matter anymore; neither does the fact that he was wearing the hoodie you’ve always asked him to give to you.

hurt, betrayal, and anger all brew inside of you. you can’t even fully process everything. hani, who everyone sees as the sweet and kind person betrayed you as a friend. suna, who had captured your heart, hurt you for believing that you are capable of doing such terrible things. and to top it all, anger at the both of them and mostly anger at yourself for walking away from suna before he can even respond to what you said to him.

*

suffice it is to say, the next time you see suna is extremely awkward. it’s at volleyball practice and thankfully, you’re not the sole manager of the club, making it easier for you to avoid any interactions with him.

“are you feeling better now?” osamu quietly asks you as he takes the water bottle from your hand during one of their breaks.

you reply with a nod but before you can let go of the bottle and escape from the twin's prodding questions, the grey-haired boy uses it to pull you closer to him. “you didn’t respond to any of my messages yesterday and you’re avoiding suna like he’s the plague.”

you click your tongue. of course he would notice. the same way he knew the reason of your breakdown in his car after that dinner. i’m not an idiot, y/n. i can see through your lies during all the time ‘sumu and me teased you. you actually really like sunarin.

“i swear i’m fine, ‘samu. stop being a worry-wart for me, okay?” you forcefully take your hand from the bottle and you swivel away from the twin only to meet eyes with suna.

it’s obvious he’s been watching the interaction and your chest tightens, thinking about what he said the other night. once you notice him begin to walk towards your direction, you quickly turn to tend to aran. thankfully, the coach calls for the practice to resume not long after.

you usually admire suna during practice (when you’re not too busy taking notes) but just seeing him at the present brings back memories of what happened so you try to avoid looking at him. those same memories keeping you up at night. suna, at your favorite convenience store in the middle of the night, looking at your exasperatedly and shooting words that hurt you while wearing your favorite hoodies of him.

the coach’s whistle echoes in the gym, breaking you out of your sorrowful thoughts. “suna, are you not feeling well? you seem a lot distracted.”

suna sighs heavily and you barely miss your co-managers whispering to each other how there are rumors that suna recently got in a lovers' quarrel with hani. your heart is thumping wildly as you watch him approach the coach who is sitting very near to where you’re standing.

“sorry, coach,” he says as he scratches at his nape. “yes, i’m not feeling well.” he then shoots you a not-so-subtle quick look. “can y/n accompany me to the clinic?”

*

he knows it’s a foul move to involve the coach and the team in the middle of practice but suna didn’t know what else to do. you’ve blocked his number and all his social accounts. his attempts to talk to you in person have all been futile. it's not helping that osamu refuses to talk to him about you.

so, really, he was left with no choice.

however, you remain awfully quiet as the two of you walk towards the school infirmary, a good distance between your bodies. he wants to talk to you but he doesn’t know where to begin, especially that this is very different from all the times that he has walked you home in the past where a silence is most welcome, oftentimes interrupted when a stray cat passes by.

when you arrive at the clinic, the nurse is out so you take seats at the waiting area. “y/n…” he finally says after a few moments pass with your deliberately ignoring him.

you still refuse to look at him and instead play with your hands. the action calls his attention towards your wrist and it breaks his heart to see the absence of the beaded bracelet that you always wore ever since he gave it to you after he won it in an egg claw machine game a year ago.

“y/n, please… will you hear me out?” suna doesn't mind that there obviously is desperation in his voice,

your jaw clenches a little as your fingers pause. he imagines the internal conflict within you before you finally let out a soft sigh. “okay.”

suna doesn’t miss a beat. “i’m sorry. i’m so, very sorry, y/n. i talked to hani and she admitted to everything. still, it does not change the fact that i hurt you by believing in her lies. i don’t know what happened to me and i have no excuse for myself.”

when you finally look at him, he almost wishes you continued to avoid his gaze. gone is the warmth that he always sees in your gaze and in its place is just hurt and sadness. “i just keep thinking… that all these months, during our every interaction, at the back of your mind, there’s this thought that i’m a bad person. and i…” your voice breaks as you swallow. “i don’t know, suna. why didn’t you just talk to me?”

why? it’s the same question he’s been pestering himself with for the past two nights. how could he let that happen? why was he easily deceived by hani’s lies?

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he apologizes again, aware of the despair laced in his voice. “i wish i can take away the hurt i’ve caused you.”

your teary eyes mirror his own. “i don’t know if i can trust my so-called friends ever again. i’m just confused and sad and hurt, rin.”

the slip of his nickname buries the hatchet deeper in his chest and suna just wants to scream. he wants to say that he broke up with hani shortly after she confessed about the lies. but that wouldn’t change anything now, and it’s not like you would care. not knowing what else to do, he moves to sit beside you and carefully reaches for your hand.

when you don’t resist, he begins to rub this thumb against your palm as he gently maneuvers your head against his shoulder. his chest tightens as the sleeve of his uniform quickly dampens.

no more words leave either of your mouths, the silence enveloping you as he lets you cry against him, just like how he let your tears stain his hoodie the first time you bumped into each other at the 12th convenience store in the middle of the night over a year ago, the warmth of his shoulder comforting you from your pet hedgehog’s passing.

only this time, your tears are caused by him.

*

“suna, you’ve been a close friend of miya atsumu ever since high school, how are you feeling about his engagement?” the reporter asks behind the camera.

you watch suna wear that signature smirk of his. “of course i’m happy for my friend, and i wish a lot of good luck to his beloved.” his answer causes a few laughter from around him.

“how about you, then? you’ve been extremely secretive about your love life.” the reporter follows up excitedly.

suna raises an eyebrow. “i thought you said you only have one question for me?” he shakes his head before beginning to walk away. “but all i can say is that i’m happy.”

the reporter fumbles a little but he has lost suna already, so he moves on to one of the other players from the national team.

you’re about to switch channels when a small figure joins you on the couch. “mama! was that papa?”

you turn to your son – a complete miniature of his father – and ruffle his hair. “yes, sweetie.”

he breaks into a toothless grin and goes to the center of the living room to dance around, all the while singing about how his papa is in the television.

meanwhile, your phone rings and you answer it quickly. “hey.”

“hey. did you watch?”

“yeah… you were so great. though i have one question for you, and i promise it’s one question only.”

rin’s soft chuckle at the other end of the line makes your heart flutter. “so you saw the interview? go on, what’s your question, love?”

you take a quick but deep breath before asking. “do you ever regret agreeing to keeping our relationship secret? like, nobody knows you’re married and with a kid, and most people think you’re just some volleyball-obsessed person who’s going to grow old alone.”

he laughs once again. “i didn’t know people think that about me,” he mocks surprise. “but to answer your question, no. i’d rather people believe i’d grow old alone than curse me for being a jerk who once hurt the love of his life when they were teens.

"i also don’t want people to know that i spent my senior year in high school trying to woo you and earn your forgiveness. how you forgave me and we became friends again but then you rejected me when i confessed after graduation? no way.”

you’re also laughing now, reminiscing on the past. how, after that day in the clinic, you and suna drifted for the rest of sophomore year. you had wanted space and he respected that.

you never got closure with hani, her family coincidentally having to move to tokyo after that school year ended but you think that’s for the best. you didn’t know what you would have told her anyway.

“so all this secrecy because you don’t want people to know that you’ve been rejected?” the teasing in your voice makes you giggle yourself.

“yes,” he replies playfully. “and also because i want to protect you! i remained loyally single for years until you finally agreed to a date during your senior year in university. god knows some crazy fans might curse you for making the suna rintarou wait for you!"

“and whose fault is that?” you’re smiling crazily into the phone now. “also, since we’re spilling stuff here, how about you also tell the world how you knocked me up three months into our relationship?”

your eyes drift to your three-year-old son who’s running towards the sounds at the front door. it’s when you notice that rin has dropped the call. he crouches down to kiss your son at the top of his head before covering his ears. “again, i’m sorry about that accident honey, but look at our little angel, isn’t he a cutie?”

you cross the small distance from the couch to the doorway. finally reaching your husband, you kiss him on the cheek. “the world is missing out on seeing your cute mini version.”

he wraps an arm around you as you both watch your son whose attention has gone back to the toys on the carpet. “what’s with all these hints, love? are you saying you’re finally okay with giving the public a glimpse of our happy life?”

you nuzzle your head against his chest. “maybe yes. maybe no… maybe later when…”

“hmm?”

you don’t respond for a while. “say, rin, do you want to drop by the 12th convenience store later around midnight once our son is asleep? i already asked osamu to come over to watch him.”

rin hums against you. "that's random, though? and how come you get 'samu to agree to babysitting favors so easily when i have to literally boost the sales of his onigiri?"

"silly, silly, sunarin," you singsong as you slap him playfully. "so, what do you think? wanna go to our convenience store later, at the middle of the night?"

"okay. do i need to bring the big eco-bag for the snacks we will be hauling?"

you untangle yourself from his arms as you make your way to your child. a perfect guise to hide your grin. "actually, no. we'll just be buying a little item."

*

in hindsight, you should have known better.

atsumu miya, despite being a professional volleyball player and recently getting engaged to the nonchalant sakusa kiyoomi, still likes to drink alcohol.

here you find yourself again at a long table, your friends from the volleyball club in high school gathered along with some of their plus ones. onigiri miya had closed early today for the private event. as osamu miya worked on the food with the help of his new assistant (whose eyes can't stop admiring her boss, but you'll tease osamu about that later) his blonde brother is already almost done with his first bottle.

he's telling the story of how they pranked one of their teammates that he and sakusa had broken up as a way of sharing their engagement. when the poor younger boy learned of the joke, he had ignored them to the point that atsumu had to reach out to kageyama to get him to talk to him.

"i told you it was a stupid idea and yet you didn't listen," sakusa adds to the ending of atsumu's story.

you laugh with your friends around the table, your lips opening up in a yawn once the laughter dies down. rin, ever the observant lover, lowly asks if you're okay, gently squeezing your hand he's holding under the table.

"i'm fine," you smile sweetly at him and his eyes soften a little. upon seeing he's still a little bit worried, you peck his cheek. "don't worry about me."

"you should be getting some rest," he says.

he must have said it louder than he intended or maybe you two just did not notice the table going quiet. atsumu speaks. "rest? suna, we're still not at the age to be tucking in bed at 8:00 PM. you know what we actually need? drinks!"

somehow, he gets the others to drink as well. shortly after, osamu finishes with the food preparation and his assistant, along with kita and aran, help set the table. the group happily eat and converse, sharing updates about their lives and reminiscing on their high school days. suddenly, you feel someone glaring at you.

"what?" you curiously ask atsumu whose eyes are looking at you with as much focus as he can muster with his tipsy state. "you're cheating!"

"huh?" your brows are furrowed and you turn to rin beside you but to your surprise, he's laughing. everyone looks at the both of you, half-intrigued and half amused.

rin kisses your forehead before taking the glass on his left and sipping. "he meant this, love. idiot surprisingly notices i've been drinking for us."

you're pretty sure you're already blushing. "oh."

"ah ha!" atsumu looks proud. "so i was right? come one, y/n, it's no fair! why are you not drinking? omimi and ginjima are the designated drivers tonight so no need to hold back!"

your cheeks still feel warm. "actually, i can't... i shouldn't have been drinking three weeks ago..." you exchange a look with rin and he nods at you. before you can continue, atsumu cuts you off with an excited squeal. "suna rintarou! how dare you keep this secret from me! and you, y/n, i thought i'm your brother!"

"for goodness' sake, 'tsumu, calm down," suna responds to the blonde, we actually only found out a week ago."

atsumu pouts, his cute drunken antics entertaining everyone at the table. "fine, forgiven. but i better be the godfather this time around!"

*

despite ginjima's insistence to drive you and rintarou home, you both decline his offer. after all, the walk home for onigiri miya restaurant to your home is not that far and late night walks with your rin is always welcome.

the moon and stars provide the two of you light as you walk home, your arms linked together. the night's breeze is nothing against rin's warm body. "love, i'm gonna tell you something but please don't panic, okay?"

his sudden sentence surprises you but you hum in agreement anyway.

"we're being followed by some media."

"oh."

he stops in his track, urging you to do the same. he looks down at your face, eyes holding gentleness one would not have expected from the stoic middle blocker. "do you want me to tell them off?"

you surprise yourself by saying no. rin cocks his head slightly before you respond. "i think i'm okay with a little bit of our private life being shared to the world."

he studies your face for a moment before smiling. "okay."

"okay?"

"yeah," he breathes close, hand already cupping your face. you get on your tiptoes as suna rintarou leans down and kisses you, but not before softly whispering, "i love you, y/n."

camera shutters be damned.

*

[ 11:07 PM]

[Instagram Update: s.rintarou posted a photo]

[is the "growing old alone" in the room with us?]

-end-

[phr0gg13]

Do Not Wait.

Luke Castellan x Reader

Synopsis: You and Luke have always been close, and so when the guy you trust most in the world decide to backstab the people you call family, you are torn in two. Warnings: Spoilers for the series! Angst, I dont think pronouns were used for the reader! (Please let me know if they were!) this story could be read as platonic or romantic feelings, I was inspired by the song Do Not wait by the Wallows!

It was a cold night when Luke came to see you, almost as if the gods knew what was in store. He had came up to you at dinner and asked to speak in private. You followed him to a secluded spot in the woods of Camp Half-Blood, there was an opening that showed the sun setting. It was like a painting, almost as if Apollo had painstakingly taken the time to think about each stroke of sunlight and how it would hit just right on Lukes face. How the clouds would form to be the most beautiful colors and how it would feel like a movie scene. Your heart was racing as you looked around. It was so pretty here, you and Luke were secluded and you wondered what he wanted to tell you. You were nervous and also excited to hear what the Hermes boy had to say.

"Please don't think I'm crazy when I ask you this (Y/N)...." His hands found your cheeks and he caressed them gently. Almost as if you were made of porcelain. Your heart was racing, thinking of every possible thing he could want to ask you. "Luke, I wont think you are crazy.... What's up?" You replied sweetly. Luke felt a small twinge of regret hit him, but he was already to far gone with his plan.

"Come leave camp with me." The words were like a slap in the face. You let out a small breath of air, the same way you would when someone says a terrible joke. "You're joking right? Why would we leave camp?" You were confused, it didnt make sense. Luke was happy at camp, he had you and Annabeth. He had all his siblings. Why would he want to leave? "Because, (Y/N)," his grip on your face got tighter, it was like he was afraid you would leave, "The gods... They don't care about us. They never have and they never will.".

"Thats why you want to leave camp? Because the gods are selfish and act like gods?" You were in disbelief, "Luke where would we even go? What would we do?". He sighed and looked deep into your eyes "There are people who want to take the gods down, who can provide us with the means to show the gods not to forget us. We can finally speak out against them, do something to stop their childish ways!.". You shook your head, "Who...?"

"Kronos has been visiting me in my dreams, he wants to build an army to fight against the gods. He wants me to help." Luke smiled at you when he said that. It made you sick, you took his hands off your face and looked at him with a hurt expression. "Luke, you can't be serious? We need to tell Chiron and Mr.D about this! If Kronos wants a war... Who knows who else will follow him? How many titans will rise up against the gods? It could be catastrophic, Luke. World ending!!".

Luke shook his head, "We can't tell Chiron, we can't tell anyone. Not yet, Kronos isn't strong enough to fight." You shook your head and looked away, why was this happening. You noticed the sun was almost set, everything was dark and you felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. "What about Annabeth?" Your voice broke as tears threatened to leave your eyes. "What about your siblings, your friends?!". Luke sighed, this wasn't how he had planned it going, "They will understand once we tell them. Once we show how strong the army is!." Luke kept going on about how everyone would join him and Kronos. He just kept talking, trying to make you join him. "Luke!".

You looked at him as your tears flowed down your face. "I am not joining you. I can't, this place is my home! These people are my family! I don't care about the gods, I don't need anything from them. I am happy and content with staying at camp.". Lukes expression dropped, it switched from heartbroken to numb in seconds flat. "Fine... But you can't tell anyone my plan. Not yet...". You turned your head and rolled your eyes, about to object to his demand. Yet he had pulled out a sword from a nearby bush, he had planned it all out. Your reflexes kicked in immediately. Quickly you pulled off your bracelet that turned into your sword. A gift from your godly parent. Ready to fight against Luke.

The two of you often trained together and so you both knew how the other fought. Though Luke was still faster and stronger. He also studied your flaws when fighting, he knew how to abuse them. This resulted in him tripping you on the ground. Your sword fell out of your hand and you tried to crawl to grab it, but Luke stepped on your wrist. You cried out in pain, "I'm so sorry (Y/N), but you made me do this..". Luke raised his sword, and for a moment you thought he was going to hit you with his blade. You thought your best friend was going to kill you, yet he maneuvered his sword to where the hilt was pointed at you. He landed a blow to your head and you were out cold. Luke set you up on your back and put his jacket he was wearing over you. He cried, but not because of the choice he made. He cried because of the choice you made. He walked off to go find Percy....

You had woke up with an insane headache, you were warm and in a bed instead of on the cold ground of the forest. You looked around weakly and saw Annabeth and Grover sitting in chairs nearby. You were in the infirmary. You noticed that they were talking to someone else, another person in a bed. One of the campers who was working in the infirmary noticed you were up. They quickly got you some water and asked how you were feeling. You told them about your head and they nodded. You had a concusion... Eventually Chiron and Mr.D came into the infirmary. They started to ask you questions of what happened to you. You told them all you remember and they both looked at eachother. Chiron shook his head, he had a remorseful look on his face.

"Chiron, where is Luke?" You asked as you noticed his jacket on a nearby chair.

"Luke is missing. We assume he is now working with Kronos..."

Your already broken heart was crushed as you heard those words. You are left wondering how long your best friend had truly been gone for.

[suddencolds]

a personal milestone 🥳 + author's note

i finally made it 😭 (there is probably another 10k sitting in my drafts, but i have always tracked word count for this project as a sum of already-published installments)

also a (somewhat long) journal entry below:

—

This has been the main project in my life for almost two years, now (I started writing on 1.26.2023). It's my first proper attempt at a novel, and it's one of my first times ever posting original work anywhere 😭

It's hard to say how I feel now, perhaps because I feel too much.

Where to go from here? I considered dropping the series entirely before I hit the milestone because I was very tired. In a way, I felt like I had said everything I wanted to say. But I think I also love this series a lot more than I can properly verbalize.

To be completely honest, writing this series was so lonely. To work for so long on something that I could not show to nearly anyone irl (not family, not close friends, not peers, not strangers I met who I talked to about art); to spend hundreds of hours on something that I could only ever post to a small subset of people... all of that was very lonely. I'm sure other creatives have felt this way too.

And at the same time, hearing what people on snzblr thought became probably the most potent source of happiness in my life (is that pathetic? Maybe so.) I don't think this project was self-sustaining at all; I think to some extent, I wrote it because I wanted to hear people tell me that they liked it. I realize this is a terrible and unsustainable reason to create art, but that's the truth.

On some level, though, I kept writing because I loved Y+V. They've been at the forefront at my life for almost two years now 😭 I spent a long time teaching myself how to write them, and a lot of the themes & choices in the series are quite personal. Embarrassingly, I still want to talk about Y+V all the time.

When I posted to ask if I could send my unfinished/unpolished WIPs, some people reached out to offer to read them... and then I never sent anything over to anyone. I think a part of me could not get it through my head that people would be willing to read something completely unpolished, because... well, frankly, a lot of my drafts are just pretty unreadable; I typically only post things that I have already cleaned up. More importantly, I felt like sending my drafts to people—even people who had given me explicit permission to send them!—was selfish and troublesome.

On some level, I also felt the same about asking others to brainstorm with me: I felt like I was asking them a favor which I did not know how to pay back. Perhaps this is just another way in which I have been cruel/uncharitable to myself, but I never imagined people enjoying receiving my drafts. I could never convince myself that for those people, giving feedback/discussing ideas might not actually be a chore. I was always scared to make writing less of a lonely process because I could only think about how easy it would be for me to ask too much.

This is probably the most honest I've been about this particular subject 😭 I am not good at gauging what constitutes 'too much.' I feel like I can get carried away when someone expresses interest, so I try to preemptively position myself as someone who does not impinge on others... I think that even outside of this series, I have defaulted to this pattern of trying to give and trying not to ask. In that particular sense, I am perhaps to blame for my own loneliness.

Anyways! Recently, I've gone back to (tentatively) writing after months of not writing. I'm not sure if I will post another installment here (maybe if the drafts are 'good enough', I will?), but it's nice to write without worrying so much that what I am writing needs to be publishable/presentable.

If you have ever left tags/comments on my work, and you are reading this, I am grateful beyond words to you for keeping me company + for making me feel like what I was spending so much time on was a little more meaningful :') I always go back to reread them when I'm in need of encouragement. Thank you sincerely for the happiness. ❤️

[1toreyouapart]

What It Cost

****THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY BASED ON REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE OR MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS STORY OUTSIDE OF LILITH AND SADIE AND MAYBE A COUPLE OTHERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT UP FOR FANFIC INVOLVING REAL PEOPLE***

Terrible summary: Five years since she last spoke to him. Since she last saw him. Now his face and his voice is everywhere. She can't escape him.

Five years ago Noah destroyed her and the life they had built. Now he’s back and seeking to make amends. As much as she wants to say that it's too little too late, is it?

CW/TW: Angst, mention of addiction, cheating. Mention of character death. Language. Smut (later on). PinV, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it, friends), oral (f&m receiving). All smutty warnings happen later on, so I’ll update TW/CW warning labels as those parts are written and posted. If I forget anything, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!

Masterlist

7-Noah

He sat there on the same tan couch he'd sat on every week for three years, fiddling with the same zen garden he'd fiddled with weekly for those same three years. Him and Lilly had texted a bit since he had dropped by to talk to her a few days prior. Normal stuff. Random check ins. Before he'd come here she'd actually sent him a ridiculous meme about it being chilly outside and there being an actual bowl of chili sitting outside. Noah chuckled, completely missing what his therapist had said.

"What's so funny, Noah?" she questioned, her brow arched slightly in amusement.

"It's nothing. What were you saying?" He swallowed, trying his best to keep his focus on his session.

"You said you finally talked to her? Apologized?"

"Yeah. Yeah." He nodded, his mind drifting again. Lilly had sat there, listening, crying. God, he hated seeing her cry.

All he'd wanted to do was hold her and promise her everything was going to be okay. That she was going to be okay. While he hadn't been able to do that, he was determined to make sure she would be okay. Part of that was the promise that they would at least keep in touch. Her idea, really. One he couldn't say no to, even though he probably should have. But God, he was selfish. Anything to have her back in his life, in any capacity.

"And? How's that going?"

"Honestly, good. She's at least talking to me again." Noah sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I just want her to be okay. And I think there's still a lot she wants to say but is holding back."

He didn't just think he knew. The way she had looked at him as he spoke. How she tried so hard to hide her tears. He could see it in the way she would start to speak, then change her mind. Noah had spent years learning to read her, and he had done it well. Shit, he had tried to encourage her to speak her mind, not to fall back into old patterns with him. Instead she had told him to keep in touch, and that she was glad he was sober.

"How are you feeling about all of this?"

"Fucking terrified, dude. What-" he paused, collecting his thoughts. "What if I just break her more?"

"Sometimes, Noah, we can't control the outcome of a situation."

Deep down he knew and understood that. But, God, he hated it. Just like he knew deep down that he should just leave her be now that he had finally apologized and took ownership of what he had done to her. He should just walk away and let her live in peace. Let her heal.

"I don't want to hurt her again," he admitted, his voice cracking on the last syllable. "But I'm selfish and I don't want to let her go again."

***

Noah couldn't help but smile as he drove down the road, Lilly in the passenger seat. He had let her pick the music, and good God, had he missed listening to her shout the lyrics to her favorite songs in the car with him. Right now she had him blasting the Ghostbuster's theme song, windows down, as she sang and danced next to him.

After his appointment he had, against his better judgment, he had decided on picking her up for a last minute hike up to their favorite spot. Rather, it was her favorite place. Somewhere up above the city, where she could sit and look out at everything and just breathe. And after that therapy session, that was exactly what he needed. Somewhere he could just breathe. Bonus points, and utterly selfish of him, to bring her with. But maybe out there she would feel a little freer. Hopefully, free enough to really speak her mind. Even now, having fun, he could see her holding back. Not that he could blame her, per se. He wouldn't trust him, either.

"Runyon Canyon?" Lilith let out a nervous laugh. "Haven't been in a while."

"Really? You used to bug me all the time about coming up here." He glanced over at her, seeing the tension in her shoulders. "We can do Escondido Falls or Santiago Oaks, if you prefer."

"No. No. It's fine. It'll be nice to just go look out over the city again."

"Bambi, look at me," he pleaded, putting the car in park.

Big mistake. The second she looked at him, her eyes slightly wider than normal, filled so full of anxiety he was surprised she wasn't in a full blown anxiety attack, all he wanted was to pull her into his lap and make it all go away. Instead he settled for reaching out and taking her hand, shocked when she gripped it tightly in her own.

"It's fine, Noah. I just haven't been out here since..." she trailed off, looking away from him.

"Like I said, Lilly. We don't have to hike Runyon Canyon. We can go literally anywhere else."

Fuck. He hadn't meant to take her somewhere that could be painful for her. Another reminder of what he had done to her. What he had taken from her. She had been so confident before he had come along. All trace of that was gone now. Sure, he had seen some glimmers here and there, but the doubt always seemed to creep right back in. Like when she had yelled at him in her kitchen nearly two weeks ago. Every time she had yelled, nearly immediately he had watched the confidence fade again.

"Noah. Don't treat me like that. Feel bad all you want, and you fucking should, but don't treat me like I'm made of fucking glass."

"There she is again," he chuckled, squeezing her hand briefly. This time the confidence and determination in her bright blues didn't fade. It stayed there, as though she had already fought some secret battle in her head and had made her choice.

"We doing this hike or what?" She challenged, pulling her hand from his and getting out of the car.

Even if it only lasted a moment, he would take it. Anything to see her back again.

Tag: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[iicheeze]

THE FOOL & THE STUBBORN

Once, a Princess of a powerful empire fell in love with a lowly commoner. She was determined to marry the man, thinking that he was the right one.

However, the Commoner despises love. As he has had terrible experiences of it. And when he found out that the princess is in love with him. He was disgusted.

He tried everything to avoid the woman. Yet, the Princess would always manage to find him.

“ Will you marry me? ” She would always say with a lovely, bright smile.

The Commoner wanted oh-so badly to say no. But he was talking to a person with nobility. Just speaking to her badly would be like asking for death.

So, he'd always politely say.

“ I don't know, give me more time. ”

And so, everyday, the Princess would propose to the man. Any chance she could. And the Commoner would always say the same words.

And the cycle would repeat, day by day, again, and again, and again.

However, the princess was dying for a different answer. So she asked the jester of the empire for help.

Yet the jester did not spoke a word. As its job is to just entertain the noble.

With so much love to give, the princess cried and cried. Clutching her heart in pain.

And yet, another day has passed.

She proposed to the man again, this time, a less brighter smile. Hopeful as ever.

Yet the same words were spoken out.

“ I don't know, give me more time. ”

The Commoner still showed no remorse for the woman. As he left the Princess behind.

The Princess expected this. Usually, she'd think in a positive, excited way.

Now, she couldn't help but think.

Perhaps.

It is time to move on.

As the commoner was invited to the lovely wedding of two empires, he thought to himself.

Finally.

Yet, his chest started to hurt.

It was palpitating so fast, so loud.

It hurts.

Why is it doing that?

He didn't want to show up to the wedding. Thinking of it as a nuisance.

Yet his family insisted.

So he did.

As the church's bells chimed, flower petals falling from the sky, and a loud, continuous cheer echoed through the building.

A bride and a groom could be seen.

The bride, oh, the bride.

She was beautiful.

She was stunning.

She was heavenly.

The Commoner couldn't help but be surprised.

Why is the Princess marrying another?

The Commoner knew that rejecting the princess would result to leaving the woman heartbroken.

He knew that she proposed to the man an ungodly amount of times.

But why did it hurt so badly?

He wanted nothing but to close his eyes.

But the Princess was so beautiful, and so happy.

The Commoner was astonished.

Had he been in love with the Princess?

Then why would he reject the Princess' proposal?

Perhaps, it's because of his terrible, terrible experience with love.

Perhaps, it's because he thinks of her as a filthy, selfish noble.

Perhaps, he can't see himself being happy with another.

Perhaps, it's because he wanted to accept the proposal. but he thinks the Princess is too good for a lowly commoner like him.

The Commoner was in love with the princess.

Yet he was too late to realize that.

Now, she is happy with another man.

Who isn't him.

“ Geez, the commoner's such an idiot. ” [Name] grumbled, finally closing the short novel. “ Why are you even reading that in the first place? ” Kaveh asked, confused.

“ Well, I found an old novel earlier when I was sorting out my stuff. ehe. ” The [Hair Color] chuckled.

“ Plus, the commoner reminded me of a certain someone. ” “ Huh? Who? ”

“ I love you. ” The gray-haired male stated, “ .. What. ” [Name] sweat dropped.

“ I've loved you for a long time. Before you and Kaveh got together, before you two got married, and.. ”

“ I realized that too late. ”

“ I know I broke your heart that day. I know of it. Kokomi won't stop tweeting about you crying and not getting out of your room. The professors kept getting worried about you because of your absence. ” “ You can stop, that's too embarrassing bro. ”

“ But at that day.. I didn't know that I was in love with you too. You could say I was at.. Denial. But not what you think of. ” “ What do you mean? ”

“ ..I was afraid. ” “ What? ”

“ I was afraid that I wouldn't be a good lover. I was afraid that you would break my heart. I was afraid of you leaving me. I was.. ”

“ I was afraid of loving. ”

“ So I closed off my heart. And I turned you away. ” “ ... ”

“ And I wished that I never did. ”

“ Uh.. Dear, you're spacing out again. ” Kaveh stated, snapping his lover back to reality. “ Oh, right. The commoner just reminded me of.. ”

“ .. I don't know. I forgot. ”

TAGLIST || @star-star-fall-inlove @nachotrash @baelloraa @tanspostsblog @kalpie @makimakimi @nishayuro @zomzomb1e @sassy-cat-in-town @aloveablechaos @ceylestia @severedvigility @goubaia @6-022-10-23 @duhsies @suwnshine @xiaos-wife1 @kysrion @kunikuzushisbeloved @mariposa666haruka @sunsinrinn @milkm4nz @klementime @beesgobuzzbuzz @perhapseven7eggs @fluffyxcloudz @orionicchaos @1-800asimpforfugo @thelonelyarchon @hysteriablues @idolautism @sunsethw4 @escapeis

(BOLD MEANS I CAN'T TAG YOU! IF THERE'S A CHANGE TO YOUR USERNAME, PLEASE TELL ME!)

MASTERLIST || 3 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, AND 33 MINUTES

AUTHOR'S NOTES || this is an extra to the 3 Months, 3 Days, and 33 Minutes since i think i havent posted a single chapter or extra stuff to it lmao

after this i'll post chapter 5 LMAOAOA

[echoalyssa]

For the Last Time | Dick Grayson

image generated by Midjourney AI

just an angsty smut piece for my fav bat boy

~~~

We had split weeks ago, but here he was, silhouetted against my front door. It had been ugly, and the wound still felt raw, but we still gravitated towards each other. Despite the terrible memories that lingered, we always ended up together. For better or for worse. 

“Hi.” My voice comes out whisper quiet and he hesitantly steps inside, nudging the door closed with his foot.

His dark hair falls in front of his eyes and he lifts a hand to push it back behind his ear. 

The air is thick with tension and the words that had gone unspoken. He follows me to the couch, making sure to leave ample space between the two of us. He’s looking at me so intensely that I can’t help but find the bookshelf fascinating.

There is so much to say yet nothing to say at the same time.

I draw my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs. I rest my head on my arms and just take a second to look at him. It’s been too long since he was last on this couch. Even being in his presence had a calming affect. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, playing with his thumbs. He looks up at me quickly and then drops his head.

“You asked to come over.”

He nods and pulls at a loose thread on his shirt. “So then you should pick what we talk about.”

It’s stupid really, we both know what needs to be addressed but for fear of disturbing the calm we’re both tiptoeing around the topic.

I nod at him but still stay quiet.

“I’m sorry. I watched you disappear before my eyes and I was too absorbed in my own head to realize that you needed me. I should have never left you and I should have been someone you could depend on. I let you do everything for us financially and I still expected you to clean up the apartment. I’m sorry. That’s not a partnership and you deserved better.”

It’s everything that I have ever needed to hear from him, but was it too late? The damage had been done.

“Why couldn’t you see that before?” I ask him.

“I was selfish. I was jealous. I didn’t care to and that was wrong of me.”

I choose to stay quiet, knowing that he’s asking for my forgiveness, the problem is that we’d done this before. An apology followed by the exact same behaviors that got us here before. To tell him that I had forgiven him would be a lie and that wouldn’t benefit either of us.

The silence stretches between us and he stands up to stretch. He rolls his neck and the soft crack of the bones fills the air.

“I miss it.” He says softly, looking around the apartment that we had once shared. It had been his home too. More than that though, disguised under his words was that he missed all of it. He missed me.

He sits back down, closer this time. He sits in his usual spot, and he places his hand on my knee. His thumb traces the curve of it gently, as if I might vanish before his very eyes.

We sit in silence for a few minutes until that line of tension snaps and he’s pulling at me just as much as I’m reaching for him. In one swift motion I climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. It’s like we’ve both been allowed to breathe for the first time and neither of us can get enough of it. His arms wrap around me, and he pulls me in so close that there isn’t a millimeter of space between our bodies.

Dick tucks his head into the crook of my neck and lets out a shaky exhale. I’m holding him just as tight. Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, and I sniffle into his shoulder. His fingers drag up and down my back, kneading at the knots that had accumulated without him. He touches me like it might be the last time he ever gets to.

His fingers slip lower, playing with the hem of my shirt. “Is this alright?”

He’s giving me an out but that was the thing, even if I tried to take the out it was inevitable that I would end up right back where I started. Here. With him.

“Yes.”

“Look at me.” He says quietly, his fingers wrap around my jaw, and he angles my face so that I have to look at him. “I love you.”

I duck to avoid his eyes but I whisper it right back to him because that was the only part of this mess that I was certain about.

“Look at me.”

I pry myself out from the crook of his neck, eye contact had never been my strong suit. The second our eyes meet I can feel the impending tears come rushing back. His mouth meets mine and then it’s a mess of teeth and hands and clothing hitting the floor. 

“You’ve lost weight.” He doesn’t say it in a bad way, but he’s acknowledging that our break had been harder on me than he had thought. His voice is laced with concern. “I’m so sorry. You’re tiny.”

He wasn’t wrong, it hadn’t been intentional but whenever I was stressed my hunger pangs would disappear, resulting in my noticeable weight loss. Dick, knew just how much I valued having an athletic physique and the drastic difference had brought tears to his eyes.

“Stop that.”

He doesn’t need me to tell him twice, knowing full well that I won’t talk if I don’t want to, and flips me over. His fingers press me up over the back of the couch and he guides my hips back. He pauses briefly to step out of his shorts but then I feel him right where he belongs.

The physical size difference between us means that we line up perfectly. We moan in unison as he seats himself inside me. His hands press me into the position that he wants and then his right hand tangles in my hair. He yanks it slightly, causing my back to arch and groans, dropping his mouth to my shoulder.

“If you could see the way that you look right now…”

He’s rough with me, in a way that makes my legs weak. It’s weeks of tension that had been building up to this point and neither of us can deny it.

“Please.”

His knee knocks my own further apart and the grip in my hair tightens. We had been doing this long enough for him to know exactly what I need. The new angle has him hitting parts of me that only he can find. 

The force of his thrusts has me pinned to the couch. I sob, holding the couch as if that could keep me grounded. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” My orgasm is approaching rapidly and I open to my mouth to tell him that but it rips through me before I get the chance.

My back arches and my vision goes black, the force of it all renders me completely silent.

“Fuck.” He grits out but he never lets the pace slow. All I can do is hold onto him as he fucks me through it.

~~~

I can already tell that I’ll be sore the next day. Coming off two back-to-back orgasms the oversensitivity was bordering on uncomfortable, but I loved every moment of it.

He’s staring at me through lidded eyes, trained on me like I’m the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. His lips are parted slightly, and his hand is wrapped tightly around the headboard. The veins in his forearm stand out prominently. His other hand dips between us and I can feel my eyes blow wide as he rests two fingers on top of his shaft and peers up at me expectantly. ‘Take it.’ His eyes whisper to me. I was already struggling to take him into me, let alone the long thick fingers he has ready for me.

“You can do it.” He murmurs, and the deep rumble of his voice sends another wave of pleasure through me.

He drops his hand from the headboard, curling it around my hip to hold me in place. I’m drowsy with pleasure but I let my body press closer to his, pulling his fingers and his length into my body.

My head falls back immediately, my eyes rolling back into my head. It’s such an intense feeling that my head empties of any thought that isn’t just him.

He’s moaning underneath me, twitching slightly as if he’s fighting the urge to move inside me.

“Look at you.” He murmurs, curling the fingers that are inside me for emphasis.

I sob, and my nails dig into his chest. He’ll have marks tomorrow that he probably won’t be too pleased about.

“I’m so close baby. You look so good taking me like this.”

My nerves are on fire but I’m still dragging myself across him, watching the way that his face contorts with pleasure. His hips snap up, meeting me halfway every time. His thumb brushes against my clit, adding to the pleasure.

“I-I’m going…”

His body tenses under me and I feel him twitch inside me. I cry out his name, collapsing into his chest as the waves of pleasure roll through me. Dick shudders underneath me, finishing with a few small thrusts.

His fingers slip into my hair and he kneads at the back of my neck. Neither of us is concerned about cleaning up the mess we had created. We were just basking in the pleasure of each other.

“You really love me, don’t you?” He whispers while dragging his fingers through my hair soothingly.

Emotion gathers in my throat and all I can do is nuzzle into his hand and close my eyes. Even though we were together tonight, I still wasn’t sure that I would experience him this gentle with me again. I would enjoy this for as long as I was allowed to have it.

[randomnameless]

Everything about Alcina makes the back half of the Elheim arc harder to tolerate. It's amazing how you have to go as far as genuine scumbags like Gieth, Galie, or Baltro to find villains as terrible as her, she's a relentlessly selfish woman who spreads suffering all across Elheim over a man who would doubtlessly hate her after learning what she did.

How fucking ridiculously entitled and selfish do you have to get to steal someone's life to reap the benefits of their lifespan? Full on cartoon villain behavior. At least the Zenoirans didn't have bodies of their own, Alcina just wanted to live forever.

Fuck her and the writers for trying to act like her death was sad.

To be honest,

Her motives being selfish - to the point of letting the world burn to reach them - is echoed through Gary, guy doesn't even have a goal anymore, he just wants to let the world burn because Ilenia is "dead".

What really annoyed me the most is how at the end the elves don't get the final lines with her, or tell her that she's full of shit, and we're left with characters who empathise - because of Yahna's unique bond with Alcina! - with her, Yahna doesn't excuse or tries to justify her actions, but still drops her hat to mourn her death.

Much like a certain manga's writing, we're given more pannels and screentime for the feelings of the ones who murder/kill/attack, and none for the victims.

Hell, Rosalinde's vitriol against Alcina is always tackled through the "I hate myself because I couldn't protect my sister/I should have been the one to suffer to spare her this fate", hell, Eltrinde doesn't join the "possessed by Zenoira club" to share her angst for having, more or less, been in charge when her country was steamrolled and maybe worse, depending on what Alcina did when she was possessing her.

Which is why I really appreciated the contrast with Bastorias afterwards, despite having less screentime than the Elheim arc, we see characters react to the "berserk" illness, and while there was some "we had the same goals if only you accepted to work with us", there's no dout that in the final map, backstory or no backstory, Eligor is going to die because his actions - being part of the Zenoiran forces, supporting and then usurping Reimann to become "king" even if it meant enslaving the remaining bestrals to his will - are unforgiveable.

In the end, it's not much about her motivations that sour me about her character, but the way the game plays out her death - and the second half of the plot - to be about her story, completely eluding the setting and her victims (Elheim, the elves and Eltrinde in general) was really too Kishi-esque.

Gary too, does some shit, but thanks to the map mechanics (keep the fire from spreading!) and the twins' reaction during said map, Gary's feelings are only laid bare at the end, and while he is pitiful the ones who come to talk to him (Joseph, Hodrick and Berenice) pity and are upset at what he became, killed by his own soldiers when he used to be one of their comrades/mentors.

(and I guess it wasn't made on purpose, but just after Gary's death scene with the sad BGM, we have the Elheim theme with Eltrinde being all "yay our sacred tree is safe thanks to you all!", almost as if she doesn't give a fuck about Gary's feelings lol).

Minor tidbit though about Gerard, I'm not sure he would hate her if he popped up in Alain because sure this might kill/hijack the body of his son, but in the end, both Gerard and Alcina were very selfish persons : after all, he dumped his throne and duty to his child!daughter (but she'll be alright, she'll have her grandpa to help her!) to travel around the world and create organisations that would totally not create mayhem in the country he's leaving to said daughter!

[ca-suffit]

i haven’t read the books but from the way some book stans talk about lestat like he’s some saint, i was not expecting sam in that interview to be like no actually he loves being evil and he’s really good at it and all the stuff about male rage/akasha and the devil being like wow he’s so terrible i need to recruit him actually. and i’ve seen the odd comment on twitter that’s like oh poor sam for having to put up with this lestat character assassination. like i don’t wanna call ppl out but i saw someone say “he signed up for anne rice’s iwtv, not rolin jones’s iwtv 😢” like ??? no actually he did sign up for rolin’s adaptation. and then they act like he’s so put out by the changes like a) he’s getting paid to pay his favorite character i think he’s okay. and b) even if he has reservations or questions about a change or even outright disagrees with one, he’s always full of praise for the final product and for rolin in general. like girl he is fine lol. like he said, some changes needed to be made and were for the greater good e.g. wrt improving the louis character.

I forget if he clarified in the interview or not, but that bit he says about going to hell comes right from the books

But what had I done to Claudia? And when would I have to pay for that? How long was she content to be the mystery that bound Louis and me so tightly together, the muse of our moonlit hours, the one object of devotion common to us both? Was it inevitable that she who would never have a woman's form would strike out at the demon father who condemned her to the body of a little china doll? I should have listened to Marius's warning. I should have stopped for one moment to reflect on it as I stood on the edge of that grand and intoxicating experiment: to make a vampire of "the least of these." I should have taken a deep breath. But you know, it was like playing the violin for Akasha. I wanted to do it. I wanted to see what would happen, I mean, with a beautiful little girl like that! Oh, Lestat, you deserve everything that ever happened to you. You'd better not die. You might actually go to hell. But why was it that for purely selfish reasons, I didn't listen to some of the advice given me? Why didn't I learn from any of them-Gabrielle, Armand, Marius? But then, I never have listened to anyone, really. Somehow or other, I never can.

he's not a saint (but he wants to be one for a second lol) but I personally didn't feel like he was that "evil" either. anne rice wasn't rly a good writer and fired her editor 3 books in on top of it. the series was unplanned and it's a wreck. he does awful shit but nothing I'd view makes him rly "evil," so it was a struggle for me to get on board with all that. an internal fight about how he views himself, I could understand, but idk what was rly that bad otherwise. especially cuz she was so in luv with him that consequences for anything he does just drop off as the books go? let me not write a whole thing about this lol. but ya the good and evil thing is from the books. the rice-a-ronis do mention it in posts sometimes but ever since the show has aired, everything has to be explained away now, bcuz they don't like black and brown characters or fans judging their white fav. he's either an innocent meow meow or a gothic monster, depending what mood they're in that day to dodge whatever criticism comes for them.

AMC explores a lot of stories about violent men so I've never understood this insistence like it's going to be some soft romantic series. the romance is gonna exist in the violence somehow, especially cuz they're vampires. louis slamming dreamstat's head into a rock wall while being goaded to do it bcuz dreamstat says it's the only way louis knows how to luv is sort of peak loustat for where we're at rn. I'm sure eventually they'll be more tender but it's still gonna have gritty undertones for the network it's on and who is writing it. the stans luv to make it about gendered shit, like rolin is ruining it all bcuz he's a man, but anne rice wrote violent, fucked up things too. worse than the show is prbly going to go. it's all excuses. u can just not like something without having to justify ur dislike of it to death. like damn. it's not ur taste, just stop watching??

and yes sam is a grown ass man getting prbly a good paycheck from this so loll he will be fine!