#it's hard not to wonder what else has been left out of the story. and why

[ingravinoveritas]

You know what's kind of wild to me? Anna just confirmed they've been together for 6 years. People forget she's still 29, and isn't 30 yet. So they met when she was still 23. Not hugely different from 25, but notable I think. Idk where the narrative that she was 25 came from and how that stuck.

Hi there! So I am still catching up on Asks, and I wanted to make sure I addressed these (grouped together due to similar themes). For those who might not have seen, what is being referred to are two separate incidents that occurred in the days after Anna posted the t-shirt story on Instagram. On Tuesday, she posted this story lashing out at a Swedish publication for sharing a story originally from a UK publication (The Independent) about Michael's answer to the age gap question on The Assembly. The story was originally in Swedish, but the English translation is on the right:

Then on Wednesday, she did the same thing again, this time with another Swedish paper:

Since so much of this hinges on what Michael said in his response, I will post a short clip of that here, so we have the visual:

When AL's stories were first posted, I noticed a few comments on a post from @nightgoodomens from someone who speaks Swedish, and after reading the article, their observation was that all the magazines did was literally translate what Michael said, word for word (which we can then also further confirm by watching the video above).

So Michael's words were translated directly, and on top of that, Anna was not tagged by these papers, or contacted by reporters "for comment"--she seemingly sought out these news stories and shared them on her own social media. What's strange is that most of us would never have even seen them otherwise, and yet she chose to draw attention to them. And if these articles truly are meaningless clickbait, I'm confused as to why Anna would lash out so hard at them, especially if she feels as secure in her and Michael's relationship as she has wanted us to believe.

The other thing for me is that the one voice that is (again) noticeably absent here is Michael's. Nearly every post Michael has responded to/shared in relation to The Assembly was about a moment between him and one of the interviewers, Leo. Not only has the clip of Michael's answer to the age gap question gotten much less circulation/attention than the initial clip of the girl asking him the question, he has not said a single word about it since the show aired on April 5th.

He has especially not said anything about being misquoted (either in UK magazines/newspapers or international ones). And this becomes even more glaring when you realize that Michael immediately jumped on someone Twitter the day before AL shared that first story and corrected them for misquoting him (in regard to his comments about Welsh actors and Welsh roles). So it's very clear that if Michael thought he was being misquoted, there is no reason why he wouldn't speak up about it. And yet...complete silence.

I also find it interesting that for months, Michael was being attacked on social media, first in the aftermath of his comments about the situation in the Middle East, then more recently after recording a video saying hello to Good Omens fans in Russia. In both cases, he was defamed over and over again, accused of supporting war and genocide, and in general had his comments twisted and distorted beyond recognition--in other words, he was repeatedly misquoted (to put it mildly). Not once did Anna defend him against any of this. Not once was there an Insta story or anything speaking up in support of Michael. But as soon as it was something about her/their relationship, here she was posting these stories and letting us know exactly what her priorities are.

To your comments @lookforthelight97 about AL inadvertently saying the quiet parts out loud, that was also something that caught my attention. We could be here all day talking about the narrative and who is trying to change what, but for those who don't know, the narrative of her being 25 came from every media outlet stating that Michael and AL met in May of 2019...despite the fact that she gave birth to Lyra just four months later, in September.

It was this discrepancy that gave a lot of us the feeling that something was off even back in 2019 (and I would urge folks to check out @problematicwelshman, who covered a lot more of this at the time). In actuality, Michael and AL would have had to have met in late 2018 (when Anna was actually 24, as her birthday is in August) for her to then become pregnant and have the baby in September. All of this to say that if the official PR line for the last five years has been that they met in 2019, it makes you wonder why AL is suddenly publicly contradicting it, especially to show the lack of contentment she seems to feel about the relationship even after five (pardon me, six) years.

In any case, my incredulity is and continues to be at AL so readily showing her insecurities in this way, because all these two Insta stories have done is to draw more attention to her response than to the articles that are mentioned. Articles that again, none of us would have known about if she hadn't shared them. Yet as was said above, I don't think there is anything that anyone could post or write that casts doubt on Michael and AL's relationship the way her own social media posts do.

And to what you @vaguelyomens and @angelsadvocate96 said about Michael mentioning that his greatest fear is being alone, I feel like maybe Michael has such a fear of being alone because he already knows what it's like to feel alone. To know deep down that you are not remotely on the same page as the person you're in a relationship with. To know that they don't understand you and never will, but feeling responsible for them nonetheless, and not knowing how to reconcile those two things. It's difficult to imagine anything that would make someone feel more alone than that.

So, those are my thoughts on the Insta stories AL shared earlier this week. As I have said before, I know that I could be completely wrong, and I'm happy for folks to share their perspective, whether you agree or disagree. A heck of a lot to think about, for sure...

[neckromantics]

Spoiling Astarion?

Bringing him back little things that remind you of him whenever he stays back at camp just so he knows you're still thinking of him while you're apart.

Astarion being so used to receiving little gifts from your travels that when you arrive back at camp, he's standing by your tent with his palm outstretched just waiting to see what you've brought him this time. The giddy little grin that's plastered on his face when you fork over the shiniest object you could get your paws on. All varying in degrees of monetary value, for sure, but all with a unique story of their own.

A couple of old coins from an ancient crypt. The entrance of which you'd all stumbled upon when Karlach punched a wall of a cave in victory after a particularly tough battle, only to come back with a handful of bones and cobwebs. The look of shock on her face when the entire wall came crumbling down on the group was enough to have you in stitches, entirely too weak from laughter to stand. You laid beneath the rubble for so long that Gale had assumed you developed a concussion and needed rescuing.

The PRETTIEST, crystal goblet that you'd stolen right from under a rich lady's nose under the guise that you were testing her drink for poison. You'd downed her ale in two gulps the second you exited the building. Was in the middle of patting yourself on the back for being oh-so cunning when you nearly fell on your ass. It was a sick, twisted coincidence that her ale did, in fact, turn out to be poisoned. But, at least you had a spare antidote on you that you gulped down before Shadowheart could find you in such a state. (And make fun of you, no doubt.)

A set of handmade jewelry– not stolen this time, if you can believe it. Wyll had pointed out the small shop to you while the two of you were out shopping for supplies. Said something about how it might be a good idea to pick out a new pair of socks since you'd been complaining about how holey yours had become after so much running around. Which was a good idea, truly– but the second you'd set eyes on the shop window, you knew what you wanted. A matching necklace and earring set, lovingly crafted with silver chain, so very delicate. So very understated that one could almost miss it among the rest of the more garish examples that sat alongside. Three, very small, opalescent stones shone so pretty at you beneath the sunlight that you could hardly look away. You would have given the shopkeep your left kidney just to see Astarion wearing them, but thankfully, it wasn't necessary. (You became so feral in your excitement to hear the very reasonable price that you nearly threw your entire gold pouch at the clerk's head and then kissed him on the mouth.)

You're an eager one. Astarion never has to wait– always receives his gifts before you can so much as slip your travel pack off of your shoulders. He goes real quiet for a moment. Has this far away look while gazing down at whatever it is, turning it over in his palm a couple of times to really study it.

The two of you sit together while you go through the rest of the day's spoils, and he listens while you tell him all about how you found today's special little trinket. Insists you spare no details in how you acquired it. (Unless any of those details are boring, dear. Do spare him of those.)

You know that there have to be some things he enjoys more than others. You know that there has to be some things you've given him that he outright dislikes. There have been a few occasions where he'd poked fun at you for bringing back something silly. Like "The roundest pebble you'd ever seen, Astarion, look at it roll!" or "This drawing of the two of you that you'd doodled on a stray sheet of parchment when you couldn't find anything else no matter how hard you tried!". BUT he has never refused anything you've chosen to bring back for him.

He thinks it's rather sweet that you've dedicated yourself to proving you still think of him when he stays behind. Wonders why you are the way that you are. Sort of loves you to death for it. Definitely does NOT invest in a bag of holding for everything once it all begins to stack up.

Definitely doesn't insist on you taking one half of the jewelry set so you always have a little piece of one another on you at all times. That would be ridiculous. (Earrings or necklace, darling?)

Sequel?

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Dorm Heads - With Zhongli Male Reader

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I'm sorry this took so long to post, Mystery anon! I've been super busy with personal stuff so I haven't had a lot of free time to work on this. I got pretty burned out at Idia's part and I couldn't be bothered to touch it up honestly; so, sorry about that. I hope this is what you wanted. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

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🌹 This hot headed boy was pretty surprised to find that the supposed magicless student from the orientation ceremony was not in fact magicless; seeing as you brought down a literal meteor and crushed the poor unsuspecting, feline resembling, monster. A meteor which appeared out of thin air and left no traces of damage behind after its impact. To say poor Riddle was confused and also fairly alarmed was an understatement. 

🌹 Your mannerisms were very strange to him. You're very well spoken and composed; yet you're seemingly wise beyond your years. Why are you speaking as if you're in your 80s? Riddle won't lie though; for an old man you're quite good looking. If he didn't have a reputation to uphold and examples to set, he could stare at you all day long.

🌹 A dragon? Well… that explains a lot. No wonder the Dark Mirror couldn't detect magic in you; or at least, that's what he reasons with himself. Please; he needs an explanation, he's so confused. Upon seeing your dragon form though… Riddle is once again confused. Are dragons supposed to be that long? Not that he's complaining though; the way you make a massive bed out of yourself is hard to contest.

🌹 T‐Treasure? Him? That's— Now look here; no amount of buttering him up will make you exempt from the rules, You— you scoundrel! Riddle is not easily tricked! Even if he is a tad bit more lenient with you, no he's not. You have no proof.

🌹 You have a son now too!? Just what else aren't you telling him!? Riddle doesn't mind Xiao at all actually. He thinks that they're both similar in how dedicated they are to their work. The adeptus seems to only tolerate him though; which, while disheartening, he completely understands.

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"How odd, the Dark Mirror perceived you as magicless, yet you summoned stone and earth just now. Just who are you..?"

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🦁 Right off the bat Leona could smell it and immediately he knew; that ain't a damn human. However, he couldn't seem to pinpoint just what you were exactly. You smelled similar to his one sided rival, Malleus, but it was different somehow. In the end, he just chalked it up to you being a fae of some kind. He did find it bizarre that the Dark Mirror claimed you to be magicless and directly after that you used magic. Whatever, he just wants a nap.

🦁 Why the hell are you talking like that? You sound like Diasomnia's Vice Dorm Head. Seriously, who in the world says ‘quite’ anymore. But, Leona doesn't mind you going off on one of your long winded story times about your past. Your deep voice is very smooth and soothing to his ears and has lulled him to sleep successfully every time.

🦁 HA! He knew it; his nose is never wrong after all. Well… maybe Leona was off by a little; but you're certainly not a human. A dragon though? No wonder you smelled similar to his nemesis; except your scent is more earthy than the dragon fae's. Your dragon form makes a very comfortable body pillow to cling onto. Yes, he is indeed speaking from experience. What was said experience, you ask? You were taking a nap in your dorm room while in your dragon form and woke up with a wild lion beastman clinging onto you.

🦁 Treasure, huh? Okay, be prepared for him to call you nicknames of his own. Noodle is one that Leona uses the most; a way to endearingly tease you about the foreign look of your dragon form. Another one he likes to use is old man/gramps; a tease on the strange way you speak.

🦁 Oh dear Seven; please not another Cheka, he doesn't think he can deal with another gremlin in this lifetime. Thankfully for Leona though, the avian adeptus is far older than his hyperactive nephew and awfully cold too. The lion beastman is pretty sure that Xiao doesn't like him, but you've continually assured him that your son actually really enjoys his presence.

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"Damn, you sure talk a lot, Gramps. Hah? I didn't tell ya to stop or anything, keep talkin' I'm almost asleep."

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🐙 His immediate impression of you was actually very positive! You seemed incredibly knowledgeable and well spoken. But what really caught Azul's attention was your apparently unrecognizable magic. The Dark Mirror proclaimed you magicless and yet shortly after the proclamation you displayed an exceptional control over stone and earth when you suddenly summoned a large stone pillar to attack your rampaging familiar. Color him intrigued.

🐙 My, what a strange way of speaking you have; are you perhaps anything like Diasomnia's Vice Dorm Head where you're far older than you appear? Azul actually doesn't find your mannerisms all that strange to be honest, he thinks it just gives a certain charm to you.

🐙 Oh, so you're a dragon are you? Would you perhaps be interested in signing a contract with him? It's for your benefit, he swears. No? Damn. Your dragon form reminds him a bit of various aquatic animals that populate the Coral Sea. Don't mind him calling you any names of fish you've never heard of, okay. Sometimes, if he's tired enough, Azul will allow you to cuddle with him in your dragon form. It's quite comfortable, so he doesn't mind too much.

🐙 Azul doesn't mind giving nicknames to people, but he's not too used to receiving from anyone other than Floyd and sometimes Jade. So when you refer to him as your treasure, he's caught off guard and pretty flustered. He'll never not be red in the face when you call him by that pet name, but he has a few of his own for you. Oarfish is one that he uses often, mostly in a teasing sense. Another is Ropefish, this one is used sparingly, he never told you why though.

🐙 Xiao… does not like him. The adeptus made it very clear upon their first meeting when he held the blade of his polearm to the poor cecaelia's throat and fixed him with the sharpest glare Azul had ever seen. It would seem that you told him about the whole contract debacle that went down before his overblot and your son wasn't going to forgive him any time soon.

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"Are you perhaps interested in making a contract with me? My services are quite high quality and will certainly benefit you in the future. Eh? S‐shady? Me?"

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🪲 Kalim thought that you were really cool when he first saw you at the entrance ceremony! Not only did you help him put the fire on his butt out, you also summoned a huge meteor out of nowhere! “‘I will have order!’” You sounded so cool! Ah… but wait– didn't the Dark Mirror say that you were magicless? Oh whatever, it doesn't matter anyway.

🪲 Why do you talk like you're old? You look way too young to talk like that; maybe around Professor Crewel's age but that in itself is a stretch. Expect a lot of questions from Kalim; like a lot. How old are you really? Are you a fae? Were you raised by your grandparents? What do you mean you don't know what omg means? How did you get your hair so shiny? Why do you wear clothes like that? Where are you from? Do you have a job? What do you do for work? Why are you looking at him like that? Huh… who's Hu Tao?

🪲 A Dragon!? That's so cool! Our precious boy was completely blindsided by the revelation that you were, in fact, not a human. When you reveal your dragon form to him Kalim is ecstatic, attempting to wrap his arms around your now massive form. Most times you'll be lounging on his massive bed while in your dragon form as he lays in the middle of your coiled body; running his fingers through the fur on your neck and pressing kisses to your snout.

🪲 While he certainly doesn't mind receiving nicknames and pet names, actually he loves it, it makes him happy, but Kalim isn't one to give nicknames himself, he prefers to use their birth names because it feels more intimate. However, he's not against it when you call him your treasure, he's very happy, it makes him feel all warm and bubbly inside. He might call you Cobra from time to time but it definitely won't be too often.

🪲 You have a kid? Can he meet them!? Please, please, please! Yes? Yay! Your poor emo son was immediately glomped by the eldest prince of the scorching sands as soon as he entered the room. Kalim was so excited that he didn't even let the adeptus speak before he vomited questions at him. Xiao actually didn't mind him at all, the golden retriever-like boy reminded him of a certain oni he once met in the Casm in Liyue.

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"Why do you talk like you're old but look so young? Are you a fae like Lilia? What kind? Can I see your wings? Am I allowed to ask that? Wait! Was that rude!? I'm sorry!"

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👑 Vil actually had a very positive but slightly strained impression of you. You were very well put together; a foreign beauty from another land if you will. Well dressed, well spoken and dashingly handsome; it would be a lie to say that he felt a bit threatened by your arrival to the NRC. Not only were you undeniably attractive though, you possessed an unknown magic that the Dark Mirror couldn't even identify. You were marvelous but mysterious, beautiful yet dangerous. He couldn't help but find himself lost in those glowing amber eyes as you summoned a translucent shield around yourself.

👑 Goodness you're like that Lilia fellow from Diasomnia, only taller, far more charming and much less with the times. Truly, your lack of knowledge about modern technology and tendency to forget your wallet is astonishing. You're like an old man trapped in a young man's body. Don't worry though, Vil will do his best to lay it all out clearly for you.

👑 I'm sorry, you're a what? Could you repeat that darling, Vil doesn't quite think he heard you right. Oh, a dragon, well… okay. He's never seen a real dragon before but something about that form of yours seems a bit… off should he say? You actually resemble more of a snake in his opinion. He won't cuddle with you in your dragon form, unfortunately. His clothes are far too expensive to be covered in dragon fur; but he will give you a few pets from a good distance away. Take what you can get, man.

👑 I need you to know that Vil is the fairest of them all, he's heard it all by now. Well… he thought he did. It wasn't really the pet name but the sincerity in that loving tone you used when you called him your treasure. Oh, how it made him swoon! You rascal, flattery will get you everywhere with him.

👑 Xiao… is afraid of him. One time, you left the two of them alone for ten minutes and came back to a trashed room, a grinning Vil and a beautified yaksha that was trembling in embarrassment and rage. Your poor emo son was holding himself high up and far away from the beautiful man by hanging onto his winged jade spear that was stabbed into the wall. The Pomfiore prefect was right though, green really is Xiao's color.

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"Are you sure you're a dragon? I've never heard of dragon being quite so... oddly shaped. No– I'm not saying you look bad, you're very majestic and dare I say intimidating, I simply haven't ever seen a dragon like you before."

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💀 He recognized you from somewhere; he was sure of it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. From his tablet, Idia watched as the Dark Mirror addressed you as magicless; though, shortly after, you summoned a pillar of dark brown and amber colored stone to subdue your fire spewing familiar. You were so familiar, yet he couldn't think of where from, it was like some divine intervention was preventing it. Weird….

💀 You… How are you so clueless about technology? Just where the hell are you from that you don't know what a phone is? Your young appearance betrays your age too… You're like an irl anime character! Idia is absolutely raving! Hold on; let him write down a couple catchphrases and design you a costume! Don't worry, he'll teach you all he knows about modern tech as long as you go to this upcoming cosplay convention with him. You can be his main shielding healer from ‘Outworld Collision’!

💀 A dragon? Okay… so? Diasomnia's Dorm Head is kind of a dragon, so what's there to be surprised about? Your dragon form is a bit strange looking, but it's not like he'd actually tell you that; then again he's seen a lot of weird fantasy shit in the media he consumes on the daily, so he has no real reason to comment. Idia enjoy sitting in the middle of your coiled up serpentine body as he plays his games and reads his light novels; enthusiastically explaining the plot as he goes.

💀 T‐teasure? Your treasure? This poor man just about died when you called him that pet name for the first time. You thought he was so valuable that you compared him to treasure? Hold on, give Idia a second so he can compose himself, he's absolutely blue screening right now. 

💀 Your son actually still has yet to meet Idia; he always psyches himself up to meet the yaksha but then chickens out at the last minute. He's just worried that if Xiao doesn't like him then you'll change your mind about being with him. It's not that he thinks the adeptus would purposely try and break the two of you up, he's just super paranoid.

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"T‐treasure? Me? Ah... t‐thank you... I t‐treasure you as well; you mean a lot to me. Um, g‐give me a second, I'll give you a nickname too.."

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🐲 Malleus, of course, hadn't attended the orientation ceremony due to not receiving an invitation, however Lilia had told him all about you when he returned to Diasomnia. He was very intrigued to hear about how you didn't seem to be human despite your appearance. As well as how the Dark Mirror had mistakenly labeled you as magicless as you seemed to display expert control over stone and earth. You truly lived up to expectations when he finally met you during his midnight walk around Ramshackle. You were quite the beauty as well.

🐲 Your disposition didn't faze him in the slightest. If anything, it just confirmed Malleus’ assumptions that you certainly weren't a human. He and Lilia speak in the exact same way as you, so he has no reason to be concerned nor intrigued about it. However, your habit of forgetting your wallet is a bit vexing.

🐲 You're… a dragon? Really!? Oh, you have absolutely no idea just how extatic he is to meet another dragon! Er, well, he isn't exactly a dragon, but he is close to it. Whenever you show him your dragon form, he's even more in awe of you than he was before. Truly, you were the most majestic creature he has ever had the pleasure to bear witness to. He'll happily show you his own dragon form too; expect to set aside a few hours once every week so that you and Malleus can cuddle together in said forms.

🐲 Your Treasure, you say? My my, you're quite charming aren't you? Now, Malleus isn't one to be easily flustered, but knowing how important treasures are to dragons, you're practically getting down on one knee when you call him that. Of course, he's not cruel enough to leave the sentiment unreturned, so he's taken to calling you his jewel or his fallen star in reference to you coming from another world.

🐲 Believe it or not, Xiao actually tried to kill him upon their first meeting. The yaksha had mistakenly thought that he was a demon that had somehow followed you all the way here. Thankfully though, you calmed your son down, explained the situation and introduced the two. Malleus actually took quite the liking to him despite the initial frosty reception; saying how the adeptus reminded him of a more quiet version of Sebek.

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"My, look at you. Such a gorgeous mane of fur, those glossy brown scales, curled horns of glowing amber, and those cute whiskers you have. What a magnificent creature you are, my darling."

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Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[elizabebabe]

camp woodshine ໑᱖ matt sturniolo

‘just broken people healing each other.’

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ at the ripe age of 7 camp: woodshine became the center of y/n ‘s happiness, when she left and inevitably became older the bullying she endured deepened sending her back into a dark hole but what happens when she reconnects with the boy she grew close with at camp in their smaller than they thought town?

follow through the memories spiraling in y/n’s mind and back to reality: her harsh reality.

pairing: depressedf!y/n x quiet!matt

they’re in highschool, around 17.

onlychild!matt universe.

warnings: these will update over time so keep an eye out with this list, every chapter will have it’s own warnings so it’s not too important but if you wanted to read them all at once they will be here:

use of y/n, depression, zoning-out, jumping pov’s from child!y/n to teenage!y/n.

chapter 1 preview:

zoning out at the empty spot of your desk, tear stains and rubbed out eyeliner decorating your face.

it’s hard not to go back to the simpler times, your favorite childhood memories.

woodshine.

your mom, noticing your lack of friends and sudden mood changes blissfully unaware of the bullying you suffered from at only 7 years old, decided it would be best to chuck you to camp: woodshine, settled in your small town and known for helping kids with lack of social interaction.

the memories are scattered but conflictingly fresh in your mind, the mind that jumps between the peaceful thoughts taking you out of that cold classroom and to the cabin‘s tucked into a few trees.

“g’morning campers!” the usual morning call, waking all the small bodies around you, you remember the drowsy feeling in the mornings, the chills crawling your skin as soon as the cool air brushes over you...

the smell of snotty girls cozy in a cabin, as weird as it sounded you missed it.

“hey, y/n.” you felt your arm being tapped, the same sweet, calming and comforting voice edging you awake.

“it’s morning sweetheart!” the voice excited as she continued your little routine that would set a tradition with your resistance to awaken.

a ‘humph’ escaped your throat as you were never really a morning person.

‘tap’ ‘tap’

the sound of your pencil hitting at the wooden desk you sat at momentarily bringing you away from the peaceful sun-rays, you focused back on the same spot of your desk, the teacher's stern voice drowned out as you attempted to relive the distant memory.

🏷️ @fratbrochrisgf @3lizaluvs @lily-strnlo @i-love-ptv @venusjaynie @jetaimevous @lizzysmith110 @firexovni @bagsbyclair0.

🕰️ dividers: @xxbimbobunnyxx, @saradika-graphics, @plutism.

credits: @sirenedeslily has quickly become one of my favorite blogs and she has easily inspired me to put more work into the things i post, so this post is heavily inspired by her, go check out her blog/stories and ‘YOURS TRULY’ profiles as they’re all done!!

thoughts: i haven’t forgot about love island for any of you that are wondering about it, i know it’s been longer than a month since the last installment but i genuinely lost motivation for a bit since it got repetitive, they wake up, get ready:breakfast, chill, maybe do a challenge, get ready for the evening, talk, sleep. but that doesn’t mean it’s not still being worked on just a little slower than everything else i’m doing since i have to be in a certain mood to write it, just be patient with me and maybe enjoy my other work in the time being, anyway super excited about this, love yous.

soon to be on the rack!

© elizabebabe

[sim-berry]

I'm Tired.

I totally get why many simblrs don't want to name and shame and want to avoid drama, but I'm not one of those simblrs. If I see some bs I'm going to call it out. I only have a few followers (who are lovely and sweet) anyway, so it's not like I'll get a crusade against me. So that's exactly what I'm gonna do, because I'm pissed right now.

I know I don't have a big blog so it's unlikely many will see this, but if you do, please reblog it. Spread the word about creators who have stolen content so that people can stop downloading their cc and supporting them.

One of my favorite creators, Toys of Dukeness, has just deleted all their poses from Patreon and stated that they are leaving the Sims community. Their poses have been STOLEN by other "creators" who have locked them behind paywalls. Keep in mind Toys gives their poses out FOR FREE and they've been STOLEN and put behind paywalls! They're making money off of shit that isn't even theirs! How disgusting is that?? And now they don't even feel welcome in the community that they've given so much to.

And it's funny because I just saw a post from the amazing @simmireen (who makes many of my favorite poses) calling out THE SAME CREATOR for stealing their poses!! Simmireen's poses are stunning and she is kind enough to give them out for free, and she's had her hard work ripped off by an early access paywaller. The same one who drove Toys out of this community: simsulani.

This is a screenshot taken from Toys of Dukeness's post (read the whole thing here) that specifically calls out two of the thieves:

If this keeps happening, more of our wonderful cc creators are going to leave simblr. And I don't blame them one bit. Why put hours, sometimes days, of work into creating content when it's just going to be stolen and profited off of by someone else?

And when those creators do eventually leave, do you know what we'll be left with? Scummy perma-paywallers and early access creators who use minority groups to make money. (As a member of the LGBT I can't tell you how fucking sick I am of seeing "Pride Month Collection- Available to the public on June 30th🥰")

We can't let that happen. We need to support and show love to the creators who allow us to have beautiful cc and amazing poses in our games. I can tell you right now my stories would be nothing without simmireen's and Toys' poses. And they aren't the only creators who have had their cc stolen. We're on here about AI stealing art all the time (which is a totally valid argument, don't get me wrong), meanwhile actual humans, fellow simmers, are stealing content right under our noses, right this moment.

I am TIRED of this. Our content creators are being driven off this site and out of the community entirely because their work is being stolen. Storytellers, including myself, have also had their storylines stolen. I once saw someone take my entire NSB Gen 2 storyline, with even the quotes being copied and pasted! If you don't have creativity, then don't make content, that's okay. What's not okay is STEALING from people who have worked hard on their craft, ESPECIALLY if you're making money off of the stuff you stole.

Again, please reblog if you can. And feel free to share some REPUTABLE creators so simmers know who to download from rather than the thieves. They're the ones who need to be driven out, not the hardworking creators. And anyone who is afraid to vent about this on main can come into my anon and rant all they want. We as a community need to stop this.

-Coco xoxo

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Twenty-Four - Milo's Birthday

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.5K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

That night, the night after her run in with Kerry-Ann, she found herself at the kitchen table. Her old, beaten up laptop sat open in front of her and she typed away, writing her story.

She hadn't opened her laptop since their Monaco trip. A small glass on wine sat on the placemat beside her laptop. She brought it to her lips, finishing off the glass before she put it back down and returned to her writing.

"Momma?"

Her head snapped towards the door. "Munchkin, what're you doing up?" She asked as she saved her work and closed her laptop (every time she did, it was a wonder whether it would turn back on again).

Milo slipped into the seat opposite her, sitting on his hands. He rocked gently from side to side as he looked at his mother. "My bed at Danny's house is comfier," he muttered. It wasn't Milo's bed, just the bed in the guest bedroom that had been decorated with enough stuffed toys that the bed beneath was barely visible.

But it might has well have been Milo's bed.

"He'll be back soon, munchkin," she said and pushed her laptop away. "I miss him and Olivia, too."

Leaving her laptop on the table, she put her glass in the sink with the rest of the dishes and waited for Milo to stand up. Together, they headed back upstairs. She tucked Milo in and headed to her own bedroom.

It was the middle of the day in whichever part of the world Daniel was in. She called him, holding the phone to her ear as she called him.

It didn't take Daniel very long to pick up. The moment she heard his voice, she couldn't hide the elation she was filled with. Not that she had anybody to hide it from.

"Hey, honey," he said. Daniel sat outside of the AlphaTauri hospitality unit, coffee in front of him.

"Hi, Danny," she said quietly. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too," He replied.

She didn't want to bring up her unpleasant encounter with Kerry-Ann. Not yet, anyway. They talked, talked about how the Grand Prix weekend was going, talked about how Milo had been enjoying school since he left

"He misses you, too," she said to him, and Daniel chucked. There was nothing she could have said to him that would have made him happier. "Danny, we need to talk about something."

From across the world, she couldn't see as his face fell. "What's the matter? Did something happen? Is it Olivia?"

"No, no," she said quickly. "No, Danny. I had a run in with Kerry-Ann earlier. And I know it's stupid, I know she was just trying to get into my head, but I can't stop thinking about what she said to me."

"What did she say to you?" He asked. He had sat up straighter in his seat, his posture tense.

She sucked in a breath. "First she... she accused me of being with you for your money. Which, I swear I'm not interested in you for money, Danny. I love the person you are inside, I swear."

"It's okay, sweets. I know. She was the one with me for my money, not you. I know you're not." He let out a breath. "What else did she say?"

Guilt ran through her. She knew this bit wasn't true, either. She knew how Daniel felt about her. But still, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. "She said that you don't love me," she said. "She said that you won't ever love me."

Silence. That was maybe the worst thing he could have done. Daniel said nothing. He didn't say a single thing to her for a good minute. Oh God, she was going to throw up.

But then Daniel let out a breath. "I did love Kerry-Ann. I loved her enough to have a child about her. But she showed who she really was after Olivia was born. I can't love someone that awful. She's got it in head that it's impossible I don't love her. So she thinks I can't love."

He paused, giving her a second to soak it in. "She's wrong, though. She thinks I can't love, but I love you so much that sometimes, I don't understand how it's possible. I don't understand how I can be so in love with another human being. But I am. I'm in love with you and I can't wait to buy you a ring."

She couldn't stop herself from gasping. "You don't mean that."

"Fuck, baby, I do. I've been gone a day and I just can't stop thinking about you. I know it might be soon but I can't help but dream about a future with you."

She couldn't stop herself from crying, sobs muffled by her pillow. "I can't wait for you to come home," she said through her cries.

Now, their reunion after the Grand Prix weekend was exactly what you'd think it would be. It was sweet and loving. Daniel took the four of them out for dinner and then, well, he didn't let her out of bed very much after that.

The next two months were bliss. Pure bliss.

With every Grand Prix that went by, things got a little easier. Nothing Kerry-Ann said could affect her, not when she knew how much Daniel loved her.

But then they ran into a bump. Daniel hadn't thought to ask when Milo's birthday was. But they were coming up to a year ad still, Milo hadn't celebrated his sixth birthday yet.

But then, a few weeks before the Vegas Grand Prix, she started coming home with presents. She snuck them into the house and hid them under the bed they shared.

"What's this?" He asked, watching the third time she pushed a toy beneath the bed.

She sat up and dusted off her hands. "Presents. For Milo's birthday."

Daniel moved closer to her. "Honey, when is Milo's birthday?" He asked. He had several Grand Prix coming up; he just had to hope that Milo's birthday didn’t fall on one of those weekends.

"23rd," she answered.

"What, November?"

"November."

"Fuck!" Daniel couldn't stop himself, couldn't stop the words escaping his lips. "Shit, baby. I'm in Vegas that weekend." His head fell against his shoulder and he let out a huff. "I'm gonna get him something good, I promise."

She ran her fingers through his curls. "I know you will, Danny," she said and kissed his forehead.

"I'll arrange for a party, too. And then we can do some when I'm back."

That was exactly how Daniel spent the next few weeks, planning and arranging Milo's birthday. Just like Olivia's birthday, he arranged for a custom made cake. There was a bouncy castle, a magician and more. Daniel was going to do whatever he could to give Milo the best birthday ever.

Milos birthday came around and Daniel wasn't there. Milo said he understood, but everybody could tell just how upset he was. Even more so when Kerry-Ann refused to bring Olivia to the party.

He spent most of his party in his bedroom. The bouncy castle, the custom made cake, the magician. He wanted none of it if his family wasn't all there together.

So Milo didn't enjoy his birthday on the day he turned six. He missed Daniel, he missed Olivia, enjoying it was near impossible. But he did enjoy the cake, the dinosaur cake Daniel had gotten for him.

Daniel was home the next day. He picked Olivia up from her mothers on the way and took them back to his home. Where she was waiting. With sweet, sweet Milo.

"Don't tell Milo, okay Livvy?" Daniel said to her as they pulled up outside. "It's meant to be a surprise."

Olivia mimmicked locking her lips and throwing away the key. She pulled her backpack onto her shoulders and followed her father up to the house. "Did you have fun at the party?" He asked as he pushed the key into the lock and twisted it.

"Oh, mummy wouldn't let me go to the party," she said and walked in, running up to her bedroom.

"What?!" Daniel cried as he dropped his bags.

His shout alone got the attention of everybody in the house. Milo came running down stairs (after his reunion with Olivia) to jump into his arms and she, his beautiful, wonderful girlfriend, came from the kitchen.

Daniel hugged Milo and let him go as he strode towards her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her waist. "Hi, baby," she said and kisssd him.

Daniel kissed her back, but pulled away quickly. "Kerry-Ann didn't let her come to Milo's party," he muttered. "That bitch didn't let Olivia go to the party."

"It's okay," she whispered, running her hands through his hair in a soothing manner. "It's okay. We're gonna go and have a nice dinner tonight, right?"

He nodded. "Right. Yeah. Really nice dinner."

Daniel wanted full custody of Olivia. More than anything in the world, he wanted full custody. But, first, he was gonna marry this girl.

a/n: we have reached the penultimate chapter of the Hooked On A Feeling series!! One more to go (but im definitely doing a follow up series dw)

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minseok-smaus @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @lightdragonrayne @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 4)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Note: Thank you so much for your love and support <3 If there is any mistakes I'm sorry. Let me know so I can correct it. Lots of love

After being there for a while, lost in his thoughts, he felt an arm around him. He didn't have to look back to know who it was.

“I was looking for you baby. Why did you leave like that? I mean I wasn't expecting it but I- ” Jungkook interrupted her  

“I saw Y/n just a few minutes ago. She told me to tell you she had someone waiting for her outside and she was leaving. Did you two come with anyone else?” 

“Y/n left? She didn’t say anything else? No, we came alone but got apart after. Maybe she followed our steps and decided to get some action for the night. I was starting to worry for her, I mean who doesn’t want to get laid once in a while?”  

Jungkook looked at Sewoon with discuss and took her arm off of him, paid for what he consumed and started to leave without saying anything else. Sewoon grabbed his hand but he quickly took it out. She looked so confused he started to laugh  

“Sewoon I- did you hear yourself back there? What does it matter if she gets laid or not? Why is that even on your mind? Aren't you worried about her? She left alone with someone neither you and I know. Are you-” 

“Why do you care so much Jungkook. Seriously, she’s an adult. If she left with someone was because she felt safe with that person. I’m sure she isn't thinking about you or me right now.” she approached him more and touched his buff chest “why don’t we do the same, hm. Let's leave, enjoy our night together. I missed you and I know you missed me too, let's -” 

“I’m not in the mood Sewoon. Honestly i just want to go home. This been a hell of a night and one to forget. Are you staying or want me to drop you off somewhere?” Sewoon’s face changed drastically. From a sweet and seductive expression to one Jungkook wasn't familiar with. He wasn't about to put up with it, so he said his goodbye and left on his motorcycle.  

-----------

Meanwhile Y/n, after that little fight with Jungkook finally found Lisa resting near a wall outside of the club. “I was wondering if I had to go get you” “sorry this guy messed with me and then Jungkook stepped in and it was a whole mess and -” 

“Wait wait, Jungkook? A male name you say?” she teased Y/n while she sighed “yeah like I said long story.” They started walking until they reached Lisa's car and got in, when she asked “do you wanna go to mine? Drink some wine, eat a lot of crappy food while you tell me all about this jungkook and what Sewoon has to do with it.” Lisa didn’t have to wait for Y/n’s answer since her big smile said enough. When they got to her apartment, Y/n’s mouth dropped to the floor. It was such a big and nice apartment, so cozy and simple while hers was so small she could barely move, but was the only thing she could pay for.  

Lisa went to grab two glasses and some rosé wine and ordered some Mcdonalds, then they sat on her comfortable white couch and y/n started to explain her situation. 

“It happened one day during winter. I had just started working at the coffee shop. It was very rainy and windy so it was almost empty, just two or three clients max. Sana, my work collegue, was on her break and I was organizing the cupcake counter when I saw this beatiful young guy walk in. I froze. I literally panicked Lisa, you have no idea. He was so gorgeous and I was full of flour on my clothes and face and I was alone at the time so i did what I do best, embarass myself” Talking about this Y/n could feel it like it was yesterday and smiled so lightly and genuinely. When was the last time this happened, she thought.

“Please tell me you didn’t say any jokes involving flour and cupcakes” Y/n gave her a tiny slap in the arm and laughed. "Pff who do you think I am? No I didn't do that, I did worse. literally hid myself under the balcony right in front of him, stayed there for a minute until he made a noise with his throat and asked me if I lost something and needed help finding it”  

Right there Lisa couldn’t control her laughter, placing her glass on the nearest table only to fall on the ground dying of laughter. Once it ceased she grabbed the glass of wine again, taking a few sips “you are unbelieveable Y/n. Thank you for making me laugh so much today. That happens when you revolve your life around others you know? But please continue don't let me stop you. I like where this is going” she mocked again.

Y/n rolled her eyes. Never has she been more embarassed in her life. “You’re supposed to make me feel better” she mumbled. “Well... After that, I got up so quickly that I almost fell. I apologized and said I dropped my earring and was looking for it. The best part? I don’t even have holes in my ears. But he didn’t say anything about it, pretty sure he noticed I was a nervous mess and dropped it before I could make it any worse. He gave me a big smile so I smiled back, asked him what his order was and then -" Suddenly you were interrupted by a knock on the door. Lisa got up and went to see if it was your order, got back inside with it and after settling everything on the table you started to eat. Never a meal tasted so good.

-----

A few minutes later Lisa speaks again “back to our convo, what happened? After you took his order”. Y/n sighed “you love to know everything don’t you?” she laughed “he asked for a cupcake and hot chocolate. He was always very kind even when I was being so weird you know? But he got me so nervous I didn’t want to have any more interaction with him so I tried to stall until Sana finished her break but she was taking so long and I noticed him taking some glances over, so I knew it had to be me. As I reached his table I tripped, leading me to drop the hot chocolate on him--- Gosh I shouldn't be telling you this. You’re gonna tease me for the rest of my life” 

“No wonder the dude got so hooked on you after. You did quite an introduction” Lisa said cleaning the tears coming out her eyes from laughing. “Poor guy just wanted a cupcake and ended up getting a burn”

“Don't even remind me. I thought it was it. I just burned a client and made a mess, I was sure I was gonna be fired. But Jungkook remained so calm, told me he was okay. I helped him and didn’t stop apologizing to him, told him I was new in there but that was no excuse so if he wanted to talk to the manager I'd understand and offered to pay any sort of damage. You know what he did? Turns to me and says I’m cute. I burned him and he called me cute. I lost it” 

“He seems like an amazing guy Y/n. I figure ever since that day he went back to the coffee shop ?” Lisa spoke softly 

“He did. After that incident I tried to avoid him so bad but he would always ask for me to Sana, leaving me with no other choice. We ended up getting close and I developed a huge crush on him that everyone knew about but him” Y/n gaze turns sad remembering the day Jungkook and Sewoon met.  

"So how did he meet Sewoon?” Lisa asked curious. “At the coffee shop. She passed by to tell me that she got in the agency she wanted and then Jungkook walked in. She knew about him and asked if that was the one I’ve been talking about. Then I went to see what he wanted to get and he asked me about my friend so I introduced them. Didn’t expect them to turn out a couple. Not like that . I think I was hoping that Sewoon would refuse, knowing that I had a crush on him and that we were quite close.”

“So she knew and still went for him? That little bitch. I knew she wasn't as good as she seemed” Lisa said irritated. “She asked me. One night she appeared in my house and asked me if I still liked him. I was the one who told her to go for it.” Y/n said with tears already forming in her eyes. Lisa approached her and gave her the longest hug, patting her back. “still Y/n, that’s very low of her. It’s girls code. Did you ever told her no?” Your silence was the answer she needed. “God Y/n I’m trying so hard not to diss you right now. When are you gonna put yourself first? When are you gonna stop behaving like someone else's puppet? Be honest with me, do you like your life?” 

That rang a bell in Y/n’s ears. No she didn’t. She wanted to visit places, have fun, be herself, leave that place she called home and stop working in the coffee shop just to focus on her dreams. She was about to answer but Lisa got ahead of her. “You know what? Take some days off. Let’s have a girls trip you and me. I’m bored here and you need a way out of this whole mess. It’s time for you to find yourself Y/n.” “I don’t have any money for that Lisa. It’s hard for me to pay the rent let alone go on a trip”

“Move in with me. It’s just me in here and as you see, this house is huge. And no one told you anything about paying. Pretty sure you don’t remember but my dad works in an airplane company. Think about it.” Lisa exclaimed super enthusiastic  

Before Y/n could answer, her phone started to ring. She looked over “Jungkookie”

“Are you gonna pick up?”

“No. No I’m not. You're right Lisa I have to start doing things for me. Put myself first" she looked over the window "About your idea, I’m in. Book us a flight. Tomorrow morning I’ll talk to the my manager. I never took days of so it won't be a problem. Let's do it” 

" I knew you were gonna say yes. Get ready because this trip is gonna be life changer" Lisa said making a toast with Y/n. Here comes a new opportunity. You wouldn't less this one miss.

Not anymore

-------------------------------------

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife

[fatkish]

hello!!!

I was wondering if you could do a dadzawa x student! Reader who starves themselves and says they’re not hungry because they don’t really feel hungry at all if you get what I mean(s3 ep42)

So basically they js head off to bed once they get to the camp instead of eating and stuff and he’s concerned for their well being and yeahh. Sorry I’m not a really good explainer but I’d really appreciate it if you do this request it would mean a lot to me considering I am a person who sometimes unintentionally starves themselves

Anyways I hope you have a good rest of your day/night, and thank you once again!!

I totally get this. Due to my middle school experience, I went from having breakfast at around 7:00-7:30 am with lunch at around 11:00 am to breakfast at 6:30 am an lunch at 1:00 pm. This was horrible for me because I would sit in class with my stomach growling before lunch. It made me develop horrible eating habits, so I get it. Anyways, onto the story.

Aizawa x Student Reader (Platonic): Eating Habits

You and your class had just walked out of the forest after having spent hours making your way to the campsite, dodging and fighting Pixie-Bob’s earth monsters

Despite all this, you still weren’t hungry, you didn’t plan on eating and were planning to just take a bath and go to sleep

When Aizawa told you guys to grab your bags off the bus and put them away before heading to dinner, you grabbed your bag with everyone else and headed inside

You went into your shared room and set your bag down in your spot. You began to unpack, rolling out your bedding, getting it all made up

As everyone left to go eat, you decided to clean up and take a shower to get rid of the dirt from the day

Aizawa has always been observant, so he definitely had noticed how you rarely went to lunch to eat, you’d either nap, play games, or do your own thing in the classroom

There had been times he’d seen you eating your homemade lunch in the classroom away from others, so he assumed that you had an issue with eating around other people

When he didn’t see you eating among his other students, he assumed you were too shy to get food or perhaps too tired

So he went to find you and make sure you got food in you

When he found you and told you where the cafeteria was and to go eat, he was surprised and concerned to hear that you didn’t plan on eating and planned instead to take a bath and go to bed

Aizawa wasn’t so keen on this plan of yours

He asked you why, to which you replied that you weren’t hungry. He told you that that’s not good enough of a reason

He then gave you a lecture about how the body needs food especially with the training you’re going to be doing

He thinks that there may be more to this and hopes that the reader doesn’t have some kind of eating disorder

He decides to go get the reader a small plate of food and bring it to them

Once he does, he tells them that he wants to see them eat what’s on the plate and then he’ll let them sleep after that

Aizawa isn’t one to budge from this so you eat the food. Upon seeing you slightly struggle he decides to sit down and try to talk to you

As you talk to him, he asks if there’s a reason why you have a hard time eating

You tell him you’re just not hungry

He asks if you’re bulimic or anorexic or have some kind of underlying issue that has caused this

Seeing where his thoughts were going you quickly and throughly reassured him that you just have a hard time eating when you aren’t hungry

Throughout the camp, Aizawa makes sure to keep an eye on you and lets you take a break to eat whenever you do get hungry

He may be strict, but his number one priority is to make sure his students are taken care of

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 11

Kinktober Masterlist labor ipse voluptas - “there is pleasure in the work” Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader Kinks > massage, workplace sex acts, edge play, men whimpering Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

Simon has been your massage client for years, but when he comes in with a groin injury, your working relationship becomes much, much different.

Gender-neutral reader, no mention of pronouns or genitalia. Some references to past trauma/violence inspired by canon events.

Sometimes, when you were working your hands over the flesh and bones of Simon Riley, you closed your eyes and used your fingers to know him, pretending that your sight was gone from you, letting the scars and the knots in his muscles tell you his story. It was one you’d read before, rubbing his skin like it was a book of braille, letting each ridge and healed wound speak their lines and expound upon his violent past. 

You fanned out your fingers to touch him, wide and spread across his back, rubbing your fine oils into his body and feeling the tension loosen in him as you moved through his pain. You could trace the edges of his old tattoos, finding where the artist dug the needles too deep, black lines that healed through the old, pale cuts. 

His left shoulder told you stories about two knife wounds and a bullet that the medics hadn’t bothered to remove. His right arm had a torn extensor tendon, and for him to stretch it all the way out, you needed to coax the bicep above it, pushing and pulling the muscle like you knew he needed you to, reaching deep within him to find the pliant relief he was looking for.   

You’d been Simon’s massage therapist for almost five years, and you knew as much about him as he did about you. It was strange; you could talk to each other about the deepest parts of yourselves, the way you thought the world should be, about how far human beings could reach into the universe, about space and time, about the rights and wrongs of society, and yet you knew very little of his actual day to day life. 

You knew he was a soldier. He had to tell you that much. When you first saw him lying prone on your table, the blanket covering his ass and not much else, you had to hold your breath to keep from gasping at what you saw. People’s bodies did not disturb you. Wrinkles, acne, hair - it was all just normal humanity. No one was perfect. But, Simon’s body unsettled you. He looked like he’d been through literal hell. Like demons had pierced him with their tridents and burned him with their fire. He’d been shot, stabbed, pierced, bitten, broken, and ruined by war to a particular degree that made you wonder why he hadn’t been retired for these bodily atrocities. 

On your first day together, you’d told him point-blank,

“I’d ask if you had any prior injuries, Mr. Riley, but we only have an hour together.”

He chuckled, smiling at you from his raised position on his elbows, 

“Fair enough. And, call me Simon, if tha’s alright.”

“That’s alright, Simon. Let’s get to work.”

So, you had. In the beginning, the initial awkwardness of the act of massaging someone was the same as it always was. You got to know his body, his preferences. You knew not to press too hard on his right trapezius unless you wanted a fist to dart out and grip you around the wrist. You also knew that he was a bit vocal. Some of the noises he made for you, particularly when you treated his calves and quads, haunted your dreams in the most lurid way. 

But, everything had changed between you when he had come in last week with a sore groin muscle, inside of his right thigh. 

“What’s with the limp?” You’d asked him when he walked into the office.

“Trainin’ day gone wrong. Think you can put it right again, love?”

That Manchester accent with the pet name always stuck you right in the belly, but you pretended like it didn’t. You refused to admit you had feelings for your client. It wasn’t professional, and you were one of the best in your field. It was unethical. But, it was hard to convince yourself of that fact when you remembered how he groaned for you when you relaxed his clenched hamstring a few months ago and he’d cried into the terrycloth face pillow,

“Mngh! Tha’s good, love. Fuck, tha’s it.”

That one was on repeat in your head. 

Today, you gave him some time to get set up in the room, giving him specific instructions to lie on his back first so that you could treat the affected area. You weren’t shy about a little upper thigh, and you’d touched Simon Riley in just about every way possible by now. It’d be old hat. Right?

Wrong.

You’d started on his quad, warming up the muscle to your touch, filling your hands with oil so that they would slip across his hairy skin. But, he’d stopped you, grimacing and grunting through his teeth,

“It’s higher. Fuck me, it stings.”

“Can you point to the pain?” You watched as he moved the thin sheet up and over his hip, trying to shield his cock from you while showing you where he was injured. 

His hand was rubbing down his adductor brevis, the innermost part of his thigh, a muscle that led right to the join of where his leg became crotch. 

“I see. Can you turn your knee out?”

“No,” he growled, obviously trying to hold his pain at bay. 

“Alright,” you reassured him, “It’s okay like this. Just… tell me if I touch you where you aren’t comfortable.”

“I just need you to bloody touch me, love. I’ll take anythin’ you got at this point.”

You looked down at his leg, and then you looked at his cock and balls hidden by the sheet. Back to the leg. Back to his cock. 

Stop it! Stop. Don’t look at it. You punished yourself, but that only made you want to look at it again. 

If you didn’t start massaging him, he was going to know you were nervous, and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, so you poured more oil into your hand and started at the lowest possible point before gently working your way up the muscle. 

The noise that came out of him was downright pornographic. 

“Are… are you alright, Simon?” You asked, stopping to let him recover.

He nodded, biting down on his fist to stop himself from crying out again.

You repeated the movement. Another delicious grumble came rolling out of his chest. He was breathing hard, and you could see his enormous core flexing and expanding under the stress. 

You moved your hand back and forth over the muscle, working it over and over, feeling the tension loosen under your touch. But, as he became more and more pain free, his body started to get worked up in a different sort of way. 

You’d tried to stay away from the sheet, but there was only so much room down there, and his giant prick was hanging against your wrist as you rubbed him. It wasn’t his fault. He’d covered himself. There really wasn’t anything wrong, per se. It was just a body part. But, it gave him away.

By the time he had relief in his muscle, his immense rod was standing at full attention, erect and joyful in your ministrations. He was so big that he was tugging the sheet from the other side of the table, lolling up his abdomen and reaching much higher than his navel. 

The sheet was doing very little to protect his modesty. 

“Does that feel better, Simon?” You asked, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.

“Aye, love. Feels fuckin’ brilliant. Little higher, yeah?”

He still hadn’t opened his eyes, and if he knew he was hard, he didn’t apologize for it. If you moved your hands higher, you’d be pressing into his pubic mound, basically massaging the base of his cock. So, you moved just the smallest bit higher, trying your best to avoid his fully hard dick. 

“Mmfff-fuck. Tha’s so good.”

You couldn’t stop staring at him while you rubbed his groin. Every time you pulled the muscle, his cock would flag, and every time you pushed back up, kneading him and helping him relax, his blood would pump through his shaft, making him throb. It was intoxicating. 

Then, you noticed that he had stopped making noises. You looked up and, to your horror, he was watching you gaze longingly at his phallus, like you were a dog starving for a bone. 

You looked away, quickly finding a spot on the floor, but it was too late.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His eyes locked onto yours and he took your hand in his gently, and slowly dragged it up the body of his cock all the way to the swollen head. Then, he put his hands back at his sides and settled in, looking just as neutral as he usually did when you prepared to massage any other part of him. 

Was he really asking you to do this? Were you seriously about to give Simon a happy ending in a professional massage office? 

He felt your hesitation, and he smiled at you,

“Go on, love. Touch me how you need to touch me.”

You rubbed more oil on your hands and turned down the sheet, tucking it away as if you were exposing an arm or leg or some other appendage, trying to be as professional as you could despite the fact that you were about to do an incredibly heinous thing. 

But, you desperately wanted to touch him, and you didn’t think you’d have another chance. He’d probably never want to make an appointment here again. So, you decided to seize the moment. 

You started at his base, massaging the pubic mound around his cock, the tendons and flesh that supported his length, and then you moved to the bottom of his shaft. Carefully, you moved your thumbs over his wide shaft, making small circles of firm pressure, feeling the tension throbbing inside of him as you began to touch him there. 

Then, his moans. But, they were softer this time. It was a side of him you never got to see, an ultimate vulnerability. He was trusting you more now than he ever had. 

You moved up his shaft in a methodical way, telegraphing your movements, making sure he knew where you were going to touch him next. No surprises. 

Finally, you made it all the way up to his cockhead. You spent plenty of time rubbing your fingertips over his sensitive frenulum, touching the crown only when you knew he was ready, smearing your oil over his foreskin and pulling it down to reveal his swollen glans. 

He hissed, so sensitive under your touch. You paused, speaking low and even, trying to make your voice sound calm,

“Everything alright, Simon?”

“Mm, fuckin’ hell, too good.”

“Remember to take long, deep breaths. It helps release any tension you might be experiencing,” you teased him with your therapy voice, trying to get a rise out of him more than you already had. 

He looked down at you, incredulous, and then cocked a grin when he saw that you were playing with him. 

You rubbed his full length, clasping both of your hands around him and stroking him from base to tip and back again. Never too fast, never too slow; you always went at the exact speed that caused him to throb, knowing that you were milking him just on the edge of pleasure. If you went faster or gripped him harder, he would come, and you weren’t ready for that yet. So, you edged him, knowing his tells, listening to the timbre of his moans. You’d had five years to listen to this man when he found physical relief, so you used it against him. 

Just when he would get close, you’d return to his base, making circles in his lower abdomen, ignoring his sensitive cock, listening to him chuff and growl in frustration. But, he didn’t ask. Never did he put his desire into words. It would make it real. It would ruin the moment. Right now, you could both still pretend that he was getting a massage. 

You made your way back up, toying with him, bringing him moaning and whimpering back to the edge before sending him away again, dragging him back down in a torrent of huffing breaths and a furrowed brow. Then, you let go of him entirely, covering him back up with the sheet and stepping away from the table.

“Love, please…” He whined aloud, his voice demonically fractured and deep, resonating in his chest, staring up at you like you’d stuck him with your own blade, an unexpected betrayal.

“I’m afraid our time is up, Simon.”

“Like hell it is,” he grunted, leaping up from the table and towering over you. 

“Your injury seems to have responded nicely to our treatment, and I can –”

Simon grabbed you around the nape of your neck, dragging your body up against his, using his other hand to fist his cock, holding it out for you to grab.

“Finish what you started, love, or I’ll finish it in you.”

His eyes were nothing but serious, and you were so turned on by his fiery passion, you grabbed his cock, knelt down on the floor and fed him into your mouth. Only the head would fit at first, but that was enough. The obscene cries that came out of his throat told you everything you needed to know about his pleasure. 

You popped his head out of your mouth and jerked him, fast and hard, smirking from your knees, 

“C’mon then. Finish it in me.”

The look of shock that painted his face was like a prize that you treasured for yourself, and as you bobbed your head back and forth, sucking him as best you could, he leaned his free hand against the wall and curled his fingers into your neck even tighter. 

“Mngh… mngh… mngh… Shit! M’gonna come, love. Gonna come… fuck!”

He tried to pull away, worried that you would not want to take him in your mouth, but you sucked him deeper, keeping his pounding head sealed inside your lips. He started to orgasm, and it filled your tongue, forcing you to swallow if you wanted to breathe. You swallowed more and more of his salty cream, lapping at his drooling head, slurping and sucking to your heart’s content. 

“Goddamnit… fuck! Fuck, holy fuck…” He was coming apart above you, his release so pure and powerful that you watched him tremble, his eyes rolling back in his head like a shark ready to bite, and you felt like you were on top of the world. 

His shaft kept throbbing, spilling more and more of his come into you, and you kept sucking him, hoping to get every last drop. 

Then, he let go of your neck and moved his hand to cup your cheek, touching you with gentle adoration,

“Bloody hell, love. What was that?”

You popped him out of your mouth once more and gave him a long lick, a cunning grin on your face,

“Injury treatment?” 

“Fuck me, I’m still injured. C’mere.”

[nmakii]

CAN’T REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

[before you read this, check out the rest of the story!]

— running away from alastor wasn’t so hard the first time, who says you can’t do it again while pregnant?

alastor; the monster you call husband. he was absolutely by all definitions, obsessed. he never left your side— cooking all your meals, escorting you everywhere, even watching you sleep.

he proudly announced your pregnancy on live radio, sealing that you are his. no man will want for you anymore, he has defiled your purity. he clung onto you like a leech, draining away what little happiness you had left.

you just had to get away from that monster. you couldn’t stand another second in this hellhole house, everything in it was a cruel reminder that you’re trapped with no way to escape.

well, you’re not gonna just fall into his trap. it was then that you had planned to run away. far into saint bernard, where no one knew who you were.

and with that plan in mind, you packed all you could and ran. running south with wild abandon, you needed to run far as far from alastor as possible.

you took shelter at a rundown motel while you got back on your feet, taking a singing gig at a club down the street.

you sang well, earning favorable tips from the drunk men who desired you, wanting to see what else was underneath your signature loose flowy dresses. and with that money, you were able to afford a small house with the basic necessities. well, enough for when your child was born.

being a single mother had been rough, when you went to work at night, you entrusted your son, noah with one of your neighbors who you had grown fond of. you sent noah off to a public school, it was not the best, but it was all you could afford.

soon enough, your hard work truly paid off, you were able to live much more comfortably, buying your son the things he could ever want for.

true, there were times that your son wondered where his father was… and to that, you decided to tell him the complete truth; of how alastor is an evil man, a sort of big bad wolf. and, how you ran away to protect him and keep him safe from that wolf.

and, to him, that was a reasonable explanation.

7 years passed by, your son grew into a handsome little boy. handsome, yet you couldn’t look him in the eye. everyday, as he grew up, he started looking more and more just like his father; the tuft of chestnut brown hair, those piercing eyes, and that smile— it was all resembling the monster you ran away from. it seems as if all that your son inherited from you was your heart.

as you walked over to the bar, you spotted your co-worker mimzy slacking off. it wasn’t often that your shifts had co-incided, but the two of you still remained aquaintances. she was apparently talking up some fellow, probably trying to milk some cash out of him.

and as you took a peek of the poor soul mimzy had decided to prey on, your frame froze. was that alastor? what was he doing so far out from new orleans? your breath hitched as you walked back, trying to move as far away from that wretched man.

maybe you shouldn’t buy heels from thrift stores anymore.

the heel on your right foot snapped as you fell onto your butt. this had caught the attention of alastor, excusing himself from the conversation as he walked towards you.

you shuffled back into the crowd as best as you could, crawling away before he could get his hands on you. and still, you weren’t fast enough. alastor bended down by his waist, a smile plastered on his face. “why, say it ain’t so! if it isn’t my darling wife.” he laughed. “ex-wife.” you corrected. “ah-ah” alastor tutted, wagging his finger. “wife. we never had a formal divorce. did we, dear?”

“whatever…” you scoffed, still moving back. “say, where is our child? the one you’ve hidden from me for 7 years? i’m sure they’ll be delighted to meet me after you’ve kept us apart for so long!” he rambled on. “get away from me, alastor. you’ll never meet my child.” you said, finally getting back up on your feet, albeit the broken heel. “won’t you at least tell me their name?” he pleaded, doe eyes begging you. the doe eyes that made you crawl back every time.

“…noah. his name is noah” you frowned, glaring up at alastor. “noah. what a beautiful name for our son.” he mused. “now, would you leave me alone?” you hissed, pushing him away.

despite his lanky frame, alastor had barely moved. “my love, do you think i of all people would let you off the hook so easily? all the scheming, forcing you into an affair, into running away, crawling back to me, even following you far into this club— i wouldn’t want it all to be for naught…” he frowned, explaining his plan as he backed you into a wall, a predatory shine in the way he stared at you.

alastor planned it all..? all the ‘hardships’ you faced— all of it was in some elaborate scheme. no word could’ve described the overwhelming betrayal that overcame you. you just wanted to get out of this club, run home to your son, and run farther away. to another city, a different state, or even a different country! anything to keep him far away from his father. “now that you’ve had your fun, dear… i think it’s time you and noah return home. you can’t keep my son away from me forever. plus, my mother has been dying to meet her grandchild!” he laughed, holding you by the waist.

alastor took note of how you submissively agreed, letting him take you back to your true home. it seems you finally learned your lesson; there’s no escaping alastor. no matter what you do, it’ll end with you back in his bed, back in his arms.

“come now, my doe. it’s not safe to leave noah alone at home.” he chided, opening your side of the car door. “he must be quite confused right now. after all, he’s in the room we had prepared for him all those years ago, he must have no idea where he is right now!”

ah…

there was no use keeping alastor away.

he’d always find his way back, even through drab methods.

[b14augrana]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Alexia has an epiphany after everything comes to light

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 5 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion.

A/N: it’s finally here, 2 months later! 3.7k words in this one, i’m super proud. happy reading, and please let me know what you think! 💝

With the intention of falling asleep, you slunk in between the mattress and duvet.

Moonlight peeked at you from behind the blinds and danced across your sheets, warping with every movement you carried out beneath the blanket. Reaching out, your fingers were coated in the light, and every crevice in the surface of your skin was emphasised beneath the moon’s pale white illuminance, reminding you of just how many years those fingers had lived through. They’re just hands to hold things with, but it goes beyond just physical things — in between each finger is the phantom of your little brother’s hand when he’s one and learning to walk, bracing you to keep his balance as he toddles around the living room, evoking a proud smile on your face. Scars were peppered along the back of your hand, some little scratches originating from football and others taking the shape of teeth marks inflicted by your siblings. A silver bracelet dangled on your wrist and the charms clinked together, while the blonde hair tie that certainly wasn’t yours sat tightly below it and dented your skin.

Hands would always be hands, no matter how sacrilegious it felt to call them that due to the amount of deep-cutting memories they held. You placed yours down by your side once again, a deep exhale navigating its way out of your body as your muscles relaxed, and you further settled into the uncomfortable makeshift mattress you laid on. The room was cold, the sort of chill that was bliss to fall asleep in but not so lovely to stay awake in. Beside your face, the sheet of the bed flitted gently with every little exhale you let out, and it grazed the tip of your nose, inciting a tickling sensation on your skin. Your legs were constantly shuffling around underneath your blanket, your body tossing and contorting into different positions as you searched for the cold patches of the sheet you laid upon, desperate to fall asleep. You were exhausted beyond belief, yearning for nothing else but the relief of rest, yet you couldn’t find yourself relaxed enough. Deep thoughts, if not worries, were the perpetrator of your sleepless night.

It was hard enough to be sleeping on the floor, let alone trying to sleep while being tormented and jeered by your own flurry of thoughts and criticisms of the day’s events that overwhelmed your mind. For a time in which you wanted silence in your own head, your mind was obnoxiously alive, every thought amplified and incoherent. It felt like the ultimate betrayal to fall asleep, knowing the few hours left with your siblings would waste away during your slumber and you’d wake up to spend one more fleeting moment with them before they were gone, possibly forever.

There hadn’t been a word from the police about your mother all week. That was one more thing to be worried about, as you wondered how she was doing. Had she been admitted to the rehabilitation facility, like the social worker said? Would she even get the help she needed; proper, meaningful help, to get her life back on track? Most importantly, would it be enough to make her less of a hazard and more of a backbone in your siblings’ lives, contrary to all these years they had spent raised among her bottles? You were still afraid to return to your home. Whether she was there or not, it would feel like stepping into a graveyard of everything you had ever loved. The walls that could’ve once recounted the tales of the happiest of families… would they be traumatised into silence? It was a house, but it was nobody’s home anymore.

You hadn’t even given so much of a thought to work, and the sudden acknowledgement of your career’s existence awakened another restless surge of emotions inside of you. You had little faith in hoping that Alexia would understand your situation, regardless of what Vicky had advised. There wasn’t much to lose anymore if you did tell her, because your siblings were getting taken away anyways, but you still wanted to keep that deeply corrupted part of your life hidden away from her for as long as possible. You had yet to tell Vicky about the fostering conversation that happened at the police station earlier that day, but you hadn’t even fully processed it yourself; it would be virtually impossible to focus and get anything done at work, no matter how hard you tried, and you’d rather just stay home instead of get an Alexia lecture special to seal off your already shitty week of ordeals.

It made you sad, honestly. When you first got promoted to the first team you were everything; Barça's stargirl, the promise of a bright future for the blaugrana and the telltale signs of a worthy successor to Alexia's captaincy. Now... despite the performances you put up on the field that still won over the support of the public, you felt like the complete opposite was happening. With every step forward in football came five steps backwards in your personal life, and another step back in your relationship with Alexia.

Some would probably ask you why you were so afraid to come clean to your captain about your situation, the real reason why you're so tardy and 'irresponsible', and the worst part was, you couldn't give them a reason. It was daunting to tell Vicky — probably the most understanding person you could've confided in — so you couldn't even begin to imagine how you'd tell Alexia. Such a decision was made harder when you paid attention to the part of yourself yearning to tell her; though you didn't know if she had any experience regarding the foster system, alcoholism or anything relating to your ordeal, she was older, wiser, and had authority. You wanted to be able to open up to her about everything that has maimed you since you were 13, seek help from your captain, and receive the help for yourself that you’ve always provided for others. It was easier said than done.

The pursuit of help in itself was difficult. Confiding in anyone was a concept that you feared, even if you weren’t explicitly aware of that fact yourself. In a way, it felt like admitting that you had failed at fulfilling your only purpose — protecting your siblings from harm, and keeping them safe.

You glanced up to the bed beside you. You could just barely see a sliver of Magdalene’s forehead and the tip of her pinkish nose; the duvet was bunched because of her curled fist that was closed around it; the sound of her barely audible breathing was a daunting reminder that indeed, she was real. She was living and experiencing this just as you were. Yes, she would wake up and, as well as Dani and Lorenzo, they’d be whisked away for who knows how long — thrusted into the foster system, likely to be seen as mere charity cases and troubled kids with virtually nothing good going for them. Nobody would genuinely care about them. Someone would tolerate them out of pity, maybe, because they'd feel like they're obligated to be some sort of token of goodness in their poor, miserable lives. They'd hardly be tolerated because they deserve it; hell, their own father couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit. The social workers saw tha, heard that and witnessed that, then still proceeded to think that there’ll be someone else out there that does, if not their own blood.

Pathetic, you thought. He was pathetic, lame, and utterly so. Everything in your life seemed that way since it began to crumble before your eyes. So, despite the fact you really didn’t want to at this moment, you shut your eyes and prepared for sleep. Those few moments of unconsciousness were your only refuge. At the end of the day, you always came back craving that moment of ignorance towards the rest of your calamitous reality.

The next day, before you could even open your eyes, you were weighed down by insurmountable feelings of dread. You were awake, but you just refused to open your eyes, because that would indicate that the day had begun and you’d have to face the events that were waiting. The sun replaced the pale moonlight as it seeped through the gaps in the blinds, much to your dismay — it was yet another reminder of the day that awaited you, another thing for you to scorn at and curse about under your breath as you turned your back away and buried your head back in the pillow. With only half of your face in the pillow, you opened your exposed eye ever so slightly and squinted at the screen of your phone as it lit up with a message. For a moment, a surge of fear coursed through your body as you considered the possibility of the text being from Alexia. An angry text was the last thing you needed right now, and you couldn’t help the scowl that tugged at your features as you mulled over the many things she could’ve texted you to convey her annoyance. Would it be a simple three word text, so she could really get into you at work, or an extensive paragraph so she could give you the cold shoulder for the entire duration of training? You never knew what it would be with your captain.

You crawled out of your pitiful excuse of a bed on the floor, your muscles slightly stiff from the lack of a comfortable surface you had been forced to sleep on. Dropping the blanket to the floor, you trudged over to the door, adjusting your shirt that was sitting askew on your torso. You shut the door behind you silently, so as to not disturb your siblings, before proceeding to walk down the hallway and towards the kitchen of Vicky’s home. You were eternally grateful for both her and her mother’s hospitality during this time, and you made a mental note to make that explicitly clear to Vicky as you walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Before even entering the room, you knew she’d be awake and ready for training; she was young and eager, like you had been at one point.

“Bon día,” you mumbled, your voice still hoarse and riddled with exhaustion as you slumped into a chair at the dining table. Vicky, who had been chopping up an apple, paused in her tracks and looked at you. For a moment, her eyes examined your state, and the slight wrinkle of her forehead was far from lost on you, but she still offered a smile and a ‘bon día’ in response. A snapping sound echoed through the kitchen as Vicky sealed the container she had put her apple slices into, and she turned around to walk over to the dining table and pull a chair out beside you. She looked at you for a moment, her chin resting in the palm of her hand, brown eyes roving over your face again, before she spoke; “How are you?”

It was obvious enough, but you still humoured her. “Honestly, Vicky, I’m horrible. I texted Jona and told him I’m not coming in today,” you responded, your voice flat and completely devoid of the energetic lilt it usually possessed. The main reason you weren’t going into work was because you physically couldn’t bring yourself to play any football while knowing your siblings were being taken away from everything they’ve ever known. The reason you gave Jona was, you didn’t feel well and had been up all night with a stomach ache. That would have to suffice.

“Okay. Well, text me if you need anything — and I mean it. Actually text me, don’t just nod and say you will,” Vicky said sternly, pointing a finger at you to further make a point. You rolled your eyes playfully, and your lips curled into the faintest of smiles as you nodded. “I will. Promise.”

“Good,” Vicky replied, standing up from the dining table and bending down to pick her training bag up, slinging it on her shoulder. She knew the real reason for your day off, but she didn’t mention it or ask you what your excuse had been. The telltale signs of uneasiness that were written all over your face gave her the answer she was looking for anyway. “I’m heading off. I’ll see you later, alright?” she spoke again, and you nodded, your smile broadening ever so slightly. “See you.”

You watched her leave the house and shut the front door behind her with a click. For some reason, watching her leave for training made you miss playing football, but you simply weren’t anywhere near fit for training — mentally or physically. The sport used to be your reprieve from all sorts of upsetting emotions and a distraction from your troubles, but now… it had turned into one of those troubles. God, how you missed the early stages of your career, the time when you had been a promising young talent on the rise, when football was fun. You still had time, and you definitely had the potential; you were only 18, you had heaps of time, but even then, it felt like every day, your talent dwindled even more, and soon you’d be left with none. You’d merely be another ‘what-if’, a wasted talent, and that’s not the outcome you had worked so hard for your entire life, back when it was good. Back when your family was still intact.

“Hermana,” a little voice called out from the stairs. You turned to look in the direction of the sound, and your eyes settled on Magdalene, who was standing on the last step and rubbing her eyes. You could hear faint bickering from Dani and Lorenzo upstairs in the bedroom, and a little smile tugged at your lips. Something about the sound of their childish arguing warmed your heart, despite knowing you’d have to tell them to cut it out. It was good to know that they still indulged in the trivial things, like children their age should be doing. You beckoned Magdalene over to the table and stood up from your own seat, walking over to the kitchen. “You hungry, hermanita?” you asked her, opening cupboards to see what there was to make. “Sí, tengo mucha hambre,” she responded softly. You nodded as you opened the fridge, and your gaze landed on a carton of eggs.

The eggs turned into golden pieces of French toast that you put onto four plates and served with drizzles of maple syrup and icing sugar dusted on top. Magdalene was practically salivating, her little face lit up with excitement as she watched the process, and she let out an excited exclamation when her share was slid across the table to her. Dani and Lorenzo’s expressions mirrored hers almost exactly, and from the moment the plate touched their placemats, they began to ravage their food. You took your seat and ate like a normal human being, enjoying and savouring every bite, secretly surprised at how well the French toast had turned out. Cooking was — surprisingly — something you possessed a fair bit of skill in. You had to learn how to cook so you could continue to feed your siblings good, nutritious food; occasionally, you’d treat them to a restaurant dining experience, but oftentimes you’d make them something at home. They loved whatever you put on the table for them.

Breakfast that morning was something you’d hold close to your heart. All four of you sat around the table and talked, bantered, laughed and ate your food. Dani and Lorenzo went back and forth with their opinions about how they thought the upcoming Barça men’s fixture was going to go, while Magdalene updated you on the latest doll she had her eye on. You nodded along enthusiastically, of course, while occasionally chipping into the boys’ conversation with your opinion. To them, they probably just got carried away with their conversations, but for you, it was a bit more… calculated. Usually, you’d tell them to hurry up, and you’d eat your food faster, but you took only a couple bites every few minutes, and you were doing quite a bit of talking too. You were trying to stall as much as you could to avoid the inevitable.

Vicky arrived at the pitch twenty minutes after leaving home. She gave her mother a brief kiss on the cheek before grabbing her training gear and hopping out of the car. The things you had said to her the day before still loomed over her head. She was worried for you, more than she had expressed, because she knew you would just insist that you were fine and worrying about you was a waste of time… but she still worried. She could see the toll it was all taking on you, and Alexia didn’t make it any easier on you. She’d watch from afar, the type of interactions you two would have, and it honestly made her more irritated than she would like to admit. She would watch Alexia’s gaze harden whenever it settled on you, and the venomous lilt to her words when she addressed you. Not to mention, the fact she would never let you explain yourself; Vicky had to be honest, she was growing a little concerned and curious as to why you were beginning to show up late more often, but now, she realised you actually had many reasons to show up a few minutes late to training.

Her training bag hit the pitch with a dull thud as she dropped it beside the bench. She sat down beside it and pulled her boots up, a few specks of dirt flying out simultaneously, and she hit the studs together to get the mud off the soles of her boots. As she was preparing to put her right boot on, a figure stalked over to her and towered above her, simply watching. When she looked up, she internally groaned when she saw Alexia, and the annoyed look on her face. Vicky already knew where this was heading.

“Vicky, where on earth is (Y/N)?” she asked, her tone slightly speculatory. Vicky let out an inaudible sigh before responding. “She doesn’t feel well, so she isn’t coming in today.” It was a lie, and a blatant one at that, but it wasn’t the truth, which was what Vicky had to avoid revealing.

Alexia gave an exclamation akin to a scoff, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I see. She’s still as irresponsible as ever! She’ll take any excuse to not come into work, I’m sick and tired of it, seriously. She shouldn’t be playing for the first team if she behaves like this—”

“Alexia, just stop! She isn’t ‘irresponsible’; she has a lot going on, and it would put you to shame if you knew about it. I respect you — you know that — but come on,” Vicky cut her off, her tone of voice slightly exasperated. It took Alexia aback, because up until now, she hadn’t heard Vicky talk back in such a way, and it stifled her for a moment. ‘A lot going on? What is that supposed to mean?’ Alexia thought to herself. Her contemplation was written all over her face, but Vicky merely got a glimpse before she stood up and grabbed her bags, walking away from Alexia with a disbelieving shake of her head, leaving her captain to mull her words over and decipher the meaning behind them.

When she was far enough away from Alexia, she sat back down on the grass with a huff, and the reality of what she just did dawned on her. It was indirect, but still, the notion was there, and she felt a prominent sense of guilt settle in her abdomen. Shit. How was she going to explain that to you, if it came to that?

Meanwhile, Alexia stood by the bench like a statue, in a state of deep contemplation as she tried to work out what exactly Vicky meant. Her words replayed in her mind over and over again, and her eyebrows furrowed as she thought long and hard about it. ‘She has a lot going on, and it would put you to shame if you knew about it’… What could you possibly have been going through that elicited such a defensive response from Vicky, who was hardly one to react in such a way? She thought about trying to get more out of Vicky and do a bit of probing, but she was rooted to the spot.

She glanced over at Vicky, subconsciously gnawing at the inside of her cheek, before she finally took a step towards her. She hesitated for a second, but then she continued, deciding that it was irreversible, now that she had taken the first step. Her expression was softer now, and her forehead was devoid of the irritated wrinkles it previously donned, as she approached the younger girl.

“Vicky,” Alexia spoke, taking purposeful strides towards Vicky. She sank down to the grass beside her, lazily extending her legs outwards and leaning back on her forearms. Vicky looked up, and her face was ever so slightly riddled with worry, but she didn’t protest against Alexia sitting down with her. “What did you mean about (Y/N)? What does she have going on?” the older woman asked, curiosity seeping into her words.

Vicky sighed. She knew this conversation was inevitable, and there was no way she could backtrack on her words, so she just steeled herself for the explanation she had to offer; Alexia was the captain after all, and like Vicky had tried telling you, maybe she could help you out, if she just knew what was happening. Alexia picked up on her expression of resignation, but she stayed silent and waited for Vicky to speak. Something about the tense air that lingered between them told Alexia that this conversation wasn’t a simple one to be having.

“Get comfortable,” Vicky finally responded, tying the laces of her right boot, “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I am, because…”

“I hope you’ll help her, Alexia. She needs your help.”

[never-afters]

DEMO. (SOON)

The crowning of a jealous king one century ago spelled the doom of invokers, beings bestowed with the ability to control the essence of the world and manifest it in the surface. Out of envy that he was naught but a normal human, he ordered the capture and execution of invokers, reinforcing his power as a king. He made an enemy out of your people to secure his pride and throne.

A hundred of years passed and the slaughter only continues, a jealous ruler crowned one after another. The land of Zandria is stained with the blood of your ancestors, and it only continues to spill. You, who were once revered, admired, and loved, are now loathed, imprisoned, and executed simply for bearing the ability to manipulate aether, the essence of the land of Aeresia.

You are an invoker. Do you have what it takes to survive the wrath of a land that calls for your death? Or will you, like the ones before you, fall into the abyss?

Abyssal Depths is a dark fantasy set in the fictional world of Aeresia. It is the revamped version of my interactive fiction previously titled Invoker.

˖⋆࿐໋₊ Who are you? Only you have the answer to that question. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Build bonds with the people you meet. Friendship, rivalry, romance — pick your poison. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Disguise yourself as a human, working as a mercenary for the guild Sentinel. Try your best to hide the truth from your guildmates. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Do your job. Who knows? Maybe along the way, you'll find what you're looking for. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Survive. Perhaps you'll live long enough to see all the mysteries unravel.

Elfrid Basset [f] ✦ Your childhood friend and the daughter of the woman who saved you. Elfrid has always had a strong personality, always pushing you out of your comfort zone. Stubborn, impulsive, yet caring to those she cares about, there was never a time where trouble never followed her. She doesn't know your truth, but as people say, there is no secret that lasts forever.

Lucianus le Cordiér [m] ✦ An ex-noble you and Elfrid stumbled upon a year ago one night. Without the riches and reputation his family once had, Lucian brandished his skill as a swordsman and earned himself a spot as a mercenary in the same guild as you. He appears kind, gentle and open, but the air of mystery that surrounds him proves that no one truly knows who he was once.

Alcaeus Vanderbilt [m] ✦ A person from your past that you thought you will never see again. Meeting him may mean good things, but perhaps it also meant that the ghosts from your past are now catching up to you. Smart, skilled, but surrounded by walls he built to protect himself, Alcaeus won't let anyone take away anything from him again.

Amelia Vanderbilt [f] ✦ Someone from your past who lives with the guilt of surviving. Amelia has always been sickly, but despite everything she has outlived everyone else. She's still the timid and soft-spoken girl you barely saw back home, the only thing you can't believe is her unwavering trust that there is still good left in the world you're both living in.

Clair [m] ✦ A traveling bard who decided one day it will be fun to go adventuring with you and your group. He said he wants to turn your exploits into a great story, and no matter how hard you dissuade him, he never relents. Charming and cunning, that's how Clair is, and you never realized how dangerous those two qualities together were until you met him.

Salomé [f] ✦ An eccentric woman you met in the middle of your mission. Boisterous, fun, yet eccentric, it's hard not to notice her with all the rings that adorn her fingers and the scars that she flaunts like trophies. She tries to come off as someone who knows nothing, but you have the feeling that she hides something you need to know. You wonder what it could be.

Kazehara [f/m/nb] ✦ With clothes you've never seen around Zandria, Kazehara stood out like a sore thumb the first time you saw them. Framed for a murder they swear they never did, they join you in an attempt to clear their name. Sarcastic, cynical, and brash, there is never a shortage of insult from Kazehara. However, you know too well that it's merely an image they conjured to protect themselves in a land they know nothing about.

??? [f/m/nb] ✦ A figure in your dreams, blurred and ever changing. A memory of the past, a phantom of your grief, your desire for warmth — you do not know. However, the way they speak, the way they try to meet your eyes behind the fog that keeps them at bay, and the way they try to reach for you make them seem real. They feel familiar, and there exists a tug in your soul that pulls you closer to them.

OTHERS

✦ Ask box is open! Any question is okay but there is no guarantee that your ask will be answered. Anything that are spoilery, disrespectful, and extremely explicit will be deleted. ^^ ✦ The demo for Invoker can still be accessed through google search. However, it hasn't been updated since 2021, and won't be updated anymore. ✦ This project is not my main focus as I'm a full time university student. My goal is to release the demo before 2024 ends, though. ✦ I haven't decided which platform to use for the demo yet, but rest assured that writing is as consistent as it can be despite my busy schedule. I haven't had the chance to learn how to use Twine yet, so I'm either planning to look for a collaborator who can code in Twine or stick with choicescript first until I get to learn how to use Twine. ✦ I will be posting character profiles for the ROs, though there are no set dates yet. This is to give way for a more detailed description for their personality and physical appearance.

[kinopio-writes]

Hello! Could you write platonic Dad!Adam headcanons? Thank you,

A/N: Lol. Don’t expect too much out of this guy because…it’s Adam. Heavily focused on him rather than the reader, sorry. Also, I might have gone a little overboard with this one because, uh, this was supposed to be only headcanons as you said, and the not-requested ‘drabble’ ended up being a few scenarios with a one-on-one convo with Adam and Sera at the end. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it, btw. Enjoy.

Holy sh!t I reread your request again and I don’t know if you meant that the reader is supposed to be the child or fuuuuuuuu—tell me if that’s not what you wanted, I had fun writing this nonetheless.

Words: 727 (not including the bullet points, edited)

Warnings: Very vulgar language, Sex is mentioned, Adam being Adam

———

How Adam would be as a Father (Reader is the child)

• first things first, the only way I can see Adam become a dad was because he accidentally impregnated a chick when she fucking swore that, oh, no, Adam, I’m on birth control. Oh, don’t worry, Adam, you don’t have to finish in my mouth. Oh, no need, Adam, I’ve got it covered. Oh, it’s okay, Adam—yes, this is Adam mocking her

• so imagine his surprise when he found a fucking child at his doorstep crying like a little bitch

• “What the fuck?” was his first reaction

• he’d find a note that said something-something about oh who gives a fuck about her and her sob story about having to leave the child in his care?

• what mattered was—“THAT FUCKING BITCH LIED TO ME!”

• after that whole ordeal, he would sit in his gigantic ass living room, slumping on his couch with arms crossed and grumbling complaints as if he was the child

• the first few weeks he would really just let someone else take care of the kid

• Lute would be the caretaker most of the time since she’s around Adam a lot

• the problem was that she’s an exterminator

• her purpose was to kill sinners and she certainly didn’t have babysitting on her list of skills

• so eventually, the responsibilities would fall back on Adam

• of course, he had attempted to get in contact with the woman

• he came back with nothing

• wait, nothing? Holy shit, he left the baby—

• and, if you’re wondering, I don’t think Heaven has adoption centers or whatnot because everyone is responsible when they’re thinking of having a child

• but, hey, how hard would looking after a child would be?

• probably accidentally dropped the kid once before

• will get mad that he can’t do his guitar solos because they would start to cry even louder

• has probably nearly suffocated it by leaving a pillow in their crib

• doesn’t know how to hold it properly

• eventually got it right by observing some of Heaven’s residents

• thinks he’s the best dad because of it

• speaking of residents, they most likely don’t know that the first man has a child

• dude, you really think he’d be caught dead with a kid?

• nuh-uh

• sometimes forgets he has a kid

• have left it in his—I headcanon—condominium completely unattended sometimes

• so, uh, yeah…not looking good for Adam here

let’s get on with the scenarios, shall we?

———

Adam covered his ears with his silk pillows, trying to muffle the sounds of that brat’s whining.

“Ugh! Shut up, Shut up!” Of course, it didn’t shut up.

He banged his head on the pillow repeatedly, swearing he was going to fucking throw this fucking child off the fuCKING BALCONY IF IT DOESN’T SHUT UP—

He had enough and went over to the crib in the corner of his bedroom, snarling. “Y’know, since your mommy was such a quiet whore you’d expect the brat to act the same. She should’ve been honored that she even got my dick. Mine. And this is how she fucking repays me?” The child in question looked up at their father, their cries coming to an eventual stop as he rambled on and on. “Finally.”

The moment he left their sight, however, they started to cry once more.

“OH MY GOD—”

———

Adam arrived home tired as shit balls.

“Not fucking now, bitch,” he dismissed when they reached for him from their place in the crib as he flopped himself on his king-sized bed. At least it wasn’t crying. Rather, it was babbling and flailing its hands and feet. While it was a nice change, it was still annoying to listen to.

Eventually, he decided to shut it up and lazily dragged himself over to the crib, picking it up in his hands and setting it near his shoulder.

“Ugh, there there. Or whatever.” He idly patted the child’s back, plopping back on his bed.

Surprisingly, the kid soon fell asleep without further complaints, nuzzling into their father’s comfortable robe.

Ugh, rude. It fell asleep before he could bitch about his day as he usually did. Instead, he grumbled his own day to himself, his eyelids growing heavy as time passed by.

Adam later dozed off with the baby in his arms, snoring loudly as his wings wrapped around him and the child in his seldom peaceful slumber.

———

The living room was dark. Heaven’s natural light poured through his open windows and the TV played a movie that was most definitely not suited for young audiences. At least it wasn’t anything sexual. Heaven forbid.

In the midst of the oddly serene environment that is Adam’s residence, holy light flashed from beside his couch and the tall figure of Sera appeared. Adam instantly turned the TV off.

“Adam, pardon my intrusion. You still haven’t submitted your forms and they were due yesterday—” Sera interrupted herself when her eyes landed on the baby next to the first man.

“Sera, what gives? Can’t you see I’m busy? Where’s your sense of privacy? Jeez.”

“Adam, is that a child?” she asked rather accusatorily.

“Ugh, yeah, so what?”

“I didn’t think you would—where’s your wife?” She brushed her hair back behind her shoulder, her brows furrowed. “Um, I figured that after Lilith and Eve—”

“Pshh, you’d think this guy would settle down for anyone? Puh-lease. Imagine a world where you can’t fuck the original dick. Worse than any nightmare you could ever dream of.” Adam averted his gaze as his shoulders tensed up.

“So you care for this child alone? By yourself?” Sera looked more worried than ever, which Adam instantly latched on to.

“Are you doubting me? I started humankind—I know what I’m doing.” He settled his arms on the headrest, legs raising to rest on the coffee table as he gave a lazy shrug.

“How long have you kept this child?”

“What’s with all the questions? Uh, I dunno, more than two months, I guess?”

“What is its name?”

“Oh, uh…” Shit. He didn’t really think about that. He only kept calling it ‘kid’ or ‘brat’. “Adam Jr!” he blurted out the first thing that went through his mind. “Yeah, that’s right, everyone would immediately know that this kid is from me, Adam.”

Sera only narrowed her eyes. “Very well. I’m surprised you managed to keep this hidden from me. The child—”

“Adam Jr.”

“…Adam Jr. seems to be doing fine in your hands. But raising a child is no easy feat, Adam.” She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes momentarily. “We will have our discussion regarding your work tomorrow. Have a good night.”

As the seraphim was engulfed with holy light once more, vanishing as quickly as she came, Adam was left to think if the hassle was really worth this brat.

[thebigbadbatswife]

OCT 19th - Hand Job

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Title - This'll Be Fun

Summary - You grow bored during a League meeting and you decide to test Batman’s resolve.

Warnings - Hand Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Exhibistionism. (if i missed something lmk)

Word Count - 970

You glance at the time and internally groan. It’s been three hours and this meeting continues to drag on. The longer that you have to sit still, the more that you want to move around and do something else, but all you can settle for is bouncing your leg. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Bruce looking over at you. You glance over at him. The two of you have never really needed words when it comes to each other. The smallest look or touch says everything. It’s not great for long, complicated conversations, but it works just fine for simple questions.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Bored.’

The corners of his lips twitch as he returns his focus to what Dinah is saying. Anyone else would miss it, but not you. It’s the advantage that comes from knowing each other for your whole lives. Which also means that he knows you. Which also means he really should have suspected this.

Your chairs are so close together you may as well be sitting on his lap. If you were anywhere else you would be sitting in his lap. Until you can do that, you’ll just have to settle for this.

Slowly and carefully, as to not draw attention to both of you, you bring your hand to rest on his thick, muscular thigh. He very quickly glances at you and back to Dinah again. Your fingers graze the inside of his thigh, slowly trailing upwards. 

He makes a half hearted attempt to try and bat your hand away, while also doing his best to not draw any attention toward the both of you. You’re not so easily deterred and, to your surprise, he gives up rather fast. Is he curious to sit back and watch how far you decided to take this?

When your fingers finally brush against his cock, you find that he’s already semi hard. No wonder he gave up so quickly. Bruce, apparently, likes the idea of getting off in the middle of a League meeting.

You adjust your position in your chair, making it look like you’re stretching. Your new position makes it easier for you to palm him through his suit. He swallows thickly and you can feel his cock twitch beneath your hand. Other than that, you see no other indication that any of this is even affecting him. 

Oh, so this is a challenge, is it? Challenge accepted. You really want to see if you can actually get him to crack. 

Though your eyes are focused on Dinah, you’re not hearing a single word she’s saying. All of your focus on Bruce. You can feel him growing harder and thicker beneath your hand. The thought of his cock almost has you salivating. If it wasn’t for everyone else in the room, you would happily be on your knees with his cock halfway down your throat. You’re glad that J’onn isn’t around right now to hear your thoughts. Though, maybe, that would move things along faster and you would be left alone with him to do whatever you want. 

You stop palming him through his suit and your hand moves higher up. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him glance back over to you. You ignore him, focused on your new goal. Freeing his cock from his stupid suit. If he was wearing one of his armoured suits, you wouldn’t have a chance to and you’d have to settle for just palming him. Fortunately he’s not, so you don’t have to.

As soon as his cock his free form his suit, you wrap your hand around it. There’s still no reaction from him. Just another quick glance over at you while his face remains completely neutral and his breathing barely changes. His cock is a completely different story. Fully hard now, with the head red and with the tip already leaking, it’s begging for you to touch it. 

You wrap your hand around his cock and begin to slowly stroke him. As you do so, you pay close attention to him, looking for any cracks in his straight face, but there’s nothing. He continues to remain neutral, even going as far as to answer a question Dinah directs toward him. His voice doesn’t sound strained and he doesn’t waiver or crack slightly when you swipe your thumb across the tip. You may have known him your entire life, but now you’re wondering if he’s been replaced with some sort of android. How else is he not reacting to what you’re doing?

The longer you touch him, the more you’re convinced of the android thing. He continues answering questions and putting his own thoughts forward while also taking the time to berate Hal for something. All the while you’re getting him off and he’s acting like nothing is happening at all. 

As much as you dare to, as to not draw attention over, you quicken the pace at which you’re stroking him. You can feel him growing harder and thicker in your hand as he draws closer to his orgasm. Maybe you’ll finally get the reaction you’re looking for when he cums. 

You don’t. Instead all you get is a deep inhale, followed by a deep exhale as his cock twitches and he covers your hand and himself in his cum. You tucked him back into pants and wipe your hand on his suit. 

Moving away from him, you cross your arms across your chest. You’re disappointed that you were unable to make him crack. Maybe you’ll get him to crack next time. If there is a next time. As he adjusts his cape to cover himself, he catches your eye. There’s a promise in his eyes. 

‘You are going to pay for that.’

And you really hope that you do.

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 11 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna hits rock bottom, she knows she needs to figure out how to put herself back together. But she also knows that leaving Kevin behind once and for all will require her to give up the only thing she wants from him. Maybe a shot at happiness with Bob would have been worth it.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, 18+

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

If this wasn't rock bottom, Anna didn't want to know what was. She spent Sunday night laying on the floor next to her bed alternating between crying and hyperventilating. Apparently she couldn't do both at the same time, because her body kept giving each activity its full attention before switching again. When she finally started to fall asleep around three o'clock, her ribs were aching so much, she didn't see how she would be able to teach in a few hours. But it didn't matter. She wouldn't be going to campus anyway.

When she woke up at six, she crawled to her computer and emailed everyone in her classes, informing them that she would not be in today and to work through the syllabus independently until their next class with her. All of the other professors pulled this kind of thing all the time, but she still felt guilty which triggered more tears. If Kevin somehow cost her a full time tenure position along with her happiness, she didn't know what else she had that he could possibly take from her.

When she thought about Bob, it hurt so badly she had to run to the toilet. And when she thought about Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics, it hurt almost just as much. She was in love with so many things in San Diego, but she'd dragged her past here along with her even if she didn't want to acknowledge that fact. She'd brought this dark shadow along that tainted everything and left her wondering if she could fix any of it at this point. If she could even figure out how to start.

As she hiccupped alone in her bathroom, she knew she needed to mentally backtrack to New Jersey for the first time in a long time before she could focus on San Diego. When she crawled back toward her bed, she located her phone and found the contact information for her lawyer's office. It was late enough on the east coast that someone answered after one ring, and soon Anna had to use her scratchy, raw voice to try to communicate.

"When will my divorce be final?" she managed to ask as she propped herself against the wall. She left herself hungry every day, and she was living in this tiny room simply so she could pay these people to help her sort out her life, but the response she got was not ideal.

"Ms. Webber... your husband still has three days left to comply, but he has not done so yet."

Anna wanted to scream, but her throat felt like it was constricting. Why wouldn't he just let her have the one thing she wanted? She wasn't asking for anything extra, just the thing she worked so hard to make her own. She didn't even care about all of the money. But he wouldn't let her have it. Even though she didn't want to fight for anything else in the house, he still wouldn't comply. He was making hundreds of thousands of dollars now, and she wanted none of it back, but he knew that her manuscript was the one thing meant something to her. He would happily drag this out until she had nothing left.

She knew she needed to wait it out. It was her fault she hadn't filed sooner. She let Kevin's words destroy her even when she knew he was sleeping with Alyssa. She let him convince her that she needed him for way too long. "What happens in three days?" she finally asked.

"If he doesn't comply, then you can restructure your end of the divorce agreement, and we can try again."

Anna knew what that meant for her, but she didn't know if she could pull the trigger. Restructure it? There was only one thing she could remove. Kevin would come out clean as a whistle, and she would lose everything she hadn't already.

-----------------------------

When Bob knocked on the door at seven in the morning after barely sleeping at all, Jessica looked concerned when she opened it, and Jake looked annoyed. "What's wrong?" she asked, reaching out and running her hand along his stubbled cheek. "Why haven't you shaved? Why do you look so upset?"

"Why are you even here?" Jake called from the kitchen where he was cooking breakfast in his uniform.

"I need to talk to you," Bob croaked, and Jessica pulled him inside and gently guided him toward the couch. She rubbed his back and didn't rush him as he sat there, and Jake even stopped turning to glare from in front of the waffle iron.

"Did you know Anna's married?"

Bob could tell by the sharp intake of breath and the way Jessica's hand came to a screeching halt on his back that she had no idea.

"She's what?"

"Married," he repeated without any feeling whatsoever. The handful of hours he'd spent around her were some of the best of his life, but he would have never let his friends try to push them together if he'd know. He should have let her keep him in the friend zone when she tried to let him know that's what she wanted. Mutual attraction be damned, she'd made marriage vows to someone else. He just wished he would have known.

"No," Jessica said adamantly. "How? She's got no rings, and she said she lives alone. She mentioned an ex before, but I'm virtually certain he's still in New Jersey. She... struggles with certain things, and if she was married, someone would be helping her make ends meet. I don't know where you came up with this, but no."

Bob took his glasses off and set them down on the arm of the couch while he ran his hands over his exhausted eyes. "Jessica. She told me she was."

"Well," his friend said as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, "I'll ask her about it at lunchtime today. There must be some sort of miscommunication."

"I don't think so," he groaned softly. "We... slept together, and those were her parting words as she ran out of my house."

"You slept together?!" Jessica practically shrieked. 

"It's about damn time!" Jake called from the kitchen, clanging his spatulas together and whooping loudly.

But Bob was shaking his head and staring at the floor through his slightly fuzzy vision. He had his phone in his hand all night, trying to decide if he should call or text her, wondering if she went home to climb into bed with her husband. Scared that this was the reason why she squeezed herself into her apartment door before closing it abruptly when he drove her home.

"I should have backed off when she friend zoned me the first time. I should have never believed that I could be with a woman like her." A woman that inspired the best poetry he'd ever written in his life. A woman who made him want everything.

It finally dawned on Bob that there might be an irate husband in his future, and he would just have to take whatever came his way. Because there wasn't a chance that Anna didn't have her spouse wrapped around her fingers. Even if she had a lapse of judgement when it came to Bob, Anna's husband would know how good he had it and want to fight for her. Bob would just have to take it on the chin.

When Jessica kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'll try to sort this out," he just nodded with his shoulders slumped and his elbows digging into his thighs. But there was nothing to sort out. Anna would never be his, and now he would have to pay the price for the way she told him she was married about an hour too late to take it all back. Honestly, he never thought accidentally sleeping with a married woman was something he would ever have to deal with in his wildest dreams, and now that he was forced to do it, he was getting pretty mad.

-----------------------------

Anna managed to give her Classics lecture on Tuesday morning with a sore throat after screaming into her pillow off and on for most of Monday afternoon. She hadn't eaten in days, and if anyone noticed her puffy, red eyes, they didn't mention it to her. She had quizzes to grade and reports to read, but when she went back to her office, the overwhelming scent of bread from the cafeteria made her gag.

There was a pack of peanuts in her desk along with a room temperature can of ginger ale, but she had no appetite yet. She was just in survival mode until she decided what to do when Kevin's time was up. Until she worked up the courage to talk to Bob and apologize.

He was the sweetest man she had ever known, and her lapse of judgement was going to cost her any chance with him in the future as well as her friendships. In fact, none of them were ever going to want to speak to her again, and that's what she deserved. If she would have just been honest with Bob, she wouldn't be in this mess. But San Diego was like a balm for her senses, making her feel normal where she knew she wasn't. Maybe Bob would have been willing to wait a few more months until she figured out her next steps. Maybe he would have accepted that she was legally separated from Kevin if her husband would just sign the fucking paperwork.

Tears were burning her eyes again just as someone knocked on her office door. She sat perfectly still, silently begging them to go away, praying that everyone would leave her alone until she could sneak out and go home later.

"Anna?"

She knew that voice so well, and she was shocked to find that it sounded more concerned than angry.

"It's just us," came the second voice, and without another thought, Anna was on her feet, wrenching the door open as she started to sob. "Oh, Anna," whispered Jessica as she collected her into her arms.

Anna stood in the middle of her tiny office and cried and cried in Jessica's arms while her other friend studiously locked the door and dimmed the lights before reaching for the box of tissues on the shelf. "Here," she whispered, and Anna accepted a wad of tissues from her.

She tried to mop at her face, but it was a lost cause. Jessica pushed the loose strands of her red hair back from her eyes as she said, "Anna, we're here for you, but I think we need to talk. For real."

"We have some... concerns."

Anna tried to take huge gulps of air into her burning lungs as she gasped, "I'm really not okay. I hurt Bob."

Her friends looked at each other before Jessica said, "I think it's time you backtracked a little bit. Maybe all the way back to New Jersey."

"I hated it there," she told them immediately, wiping at her eyes as she sat on the edge of her desk, bracing herself for the interrogation to come. 

Advanced Calculus eyed her sympathetically before a look of steel locked in her gaze. "Are you married?"

Anna nodded slightly, cringing as she pictured Kevin's face. "Technically, yes."

"Anna!" Jessica exclaimed. "You slept with Bob!"

They knew. They knew everything. Bob told them, and they knew what she'd done. She cradled her forehead in her hands and said, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I hate Kevin. I don't think we were even married two years before he started cheating on me. I'm trying my best to divorce him, but he just won't fucking let me."

"What do you mean he won't let you?" Advanced Calculus asked, cutting off Jessica before she could screech again.

"He is ruining my life," Anna whispered, finally starting to feel more anger than anything else. "Like an idiot, I've let him ruin my life. I put him through medical school. I dropped out of Princeton to work two jobs to put my husband through medical school." Her voice faded into a soft yet harsh whisper. "Kevin promised he'd take care of me after that so I could finish my Ivy League PhD. But then he started cheating on me because I was always tired and boring and no fun. Because all I was doing was working to pay his tuition for four years straight while he fucked another medical student between classes. I caught them having sex in my car."

"No," both women gasped at the same time. But she just nodded as the memories she had tried so hard to keep at bay since she moved to California came roaring back.

"That's not a marriage," Jessica practically growled, reaching out for Anna's hand that she hadn't even been aware was shaking. "Not really."

"You're right," Anna agreed. "I'm a joke." She honestly felt like one. Images of Bob's face and the memory of his kind voice flooded her system. The way he looked at her and touched her felt like love. The things he wrote about her had her almost convinced he could love her back.

"You're not a joke, Anna," her friend told her. "You're a smart, capable woman who should have come to her friends months ago with all of this information."

"I hate Kevin!" Jessica shrieked before biting down on her own fingertips, and it was so comical, Anna might have laughed if she was in a better frame of mind.

"Yes," Advanced Calculus agreed. "Kevin sounds like an asshole. But you know who isn't an asshole? Bob. But right now, he kind of feels like one."

Anna closed her eyes as the tears started welling up faster. "I tried so hard. You have to believe me. But Bob is perfect. And he didn't think I was boring. But I wasn't planning on falling in love ever again."

"You love him?" Jessica snapped loudly. "You love him? Because Bob thinks you are in a loving marriage with your spouse!"

"Jessica, go sit in the desk chair and calm down," the other woman commanded, and Anna watched the petite, bespectacled blonde stomp around her desk. "Now, Anna, why didn't you explain this all to Bob before you rocked the man's whole world and then ran off into the night like Cinderella?"

"I freaked out," Anna whispered, swallowing hard. "He's the perfect man. He did everything exactly right, and he was exquisite." She looked down at the floor as she said, "I haven't been touched like that in years. Like I was worth something. I'm not even thirty yet, and my husband ditched me for someone else while actively bankrupting me." She was mortified by what she was telling them, but she couldn't stop herself now. "Kevin always said I should dye my hair, and he loved it when I wore makeup. But Bob... he likes my hair and my freckles. He likes the books I read. He thinks I'm smart." She felt her face warm up as she thought about his poems. "We had sex, and then he was looking at me, and he started talking about us. I can't be an us with someone when I can't shake Kevin."

Anna could practically feel Jessica freaking out in the chair behind her, but she kept her eyes on the floor. "If you need help with Kevin or money for a lawyer or something-" Jessica said, but Anna cut her off.

"No. I'm fine. But he's going to force me to decide if I'd rather have my freedom or my self worth. And right now, I can't decide what I want to let him get away with when he already took so much."

"Hey," her much calmer friend said softly, and Anna finally met her eyes. "We're here for you. Anything you need, okay? But I need you to promise you'll talk to Bob. The sooner the better." Then Anna watched her reach for her tie dye lunch box which she apparently brought in with her and pulled out one of her fancy containers. "Bradley made you some hummus, and I packed you crackers and veggies to go with it. Please make sure you're eating. And please talk to Bob. I need to go teach Differential Equations, but I'll text you later. Jess, you have Physics III in fifteen minutes."

Anna received two hugs that she barely returned, and when the two women were gone, she sank into her chair and managed to eat some of the hummus without gagging. Then she texted Bob, because if nothing else, she needed him to know how sorry she was for running out on him. How sorry she was for all of it.

---------------------------

Anna wanted to talk to him on Thursday evening. Bob had to fight the urge to offer to pick her up on campus and save her from having to take an Uber to his house, especially after the few details that Jessica told him about her finances. She confirmed that Anna was married. She also promised him that there was no angry spouse waiting to jump him in the In 'N Out parking lot. She also told him that he needed to give Anna a chance to clear the air. So he agreed. He was free on Thursday. It wasn't like he'd been doing anything except going to work and coming straight home all week, even avoiding Suzanne as much as he could. And he wasn't going to break his promise to Jessica, even though Nat told him to delete Anna's number.

Bob sat in his living room, staring at his new bookshelf in disgust. He'd let himself fall into a fantasy where he imagined someday Anna's books would get mixed up with his on the shelves. Where all of her dog eared novels would live alongside his pristine ones. He'd been subconsciously thinking about it since he met her.

His insides were churning with anxiety. Part of him wanted to scream at her that none of this was fair to him, but the other part knew that no matter what, he still didn't want to see tears in her brown eyes. He couldn't let her take all of the blame for this anyway. He'd even told Jessica that she pushed a little too hard and that she shouldn't do that again in the future.

When there was a knock on his door, it was hard for him to stand up. How was he supposed to do this? He dragged himself across his living room to his front door and carefully opened it to find Anna with the saddest expression imaginable on her face. She looked somehow smaller and paler than she should. She looked like she hadn't slept. And that's when Bob realized he must look the same way to her.

"Hi," she whispered, brown eyes darting around his face nervously. She held out a small bouquet of blue flowers and the books she had borrowed in his direction, and Bob noticed her hands were shaking. "Um, I got these for you. They look like the flowers on the cover of the Whitman poems, and I thought of you when I saw them at the store."

"Anna," Bob groaned as he took them from her along with the books. He moved out of the doorway so she could come inside, and somehow he still couldn't decide if he was angry at her or not.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, turning to look at him once she was halfway across the room. There were several feet of space between them, but he could smell her hair. She was wearing the jeans she wore last time she went to the Hard Deck. He knew what that shirt felt like between his fingers. He could tell she was trying not to cry as she said, "I'm just really sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me you're married?" he snapped, unable to hold back. He knew his tone was harsh as he added, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because I should have been divorced by now!" she practically shouted, and Bob was instantly more soothed by that sentence than he should have been. "You think I want to be married to the worst man I know?" He had so many questions already, but something told him to just let her keep going. "That's why I'm here. In San Diego. He was supposed to sign the papers so I could get on with my ridiculous life, but he won't!" She sucked in a deep breath before she said, "And it's eating me alive knowing what I kept settling for when you exist! Knowing that I could have been with a man like you."

Her lips were moving like she was shivering, and her eyes were wide and watery. Red blotches covered her freckled cheeks, and Bob just knew she was going to panic again. She made a helpless noise and rushed forward, ready to run, but this time he caught her in his arms, the books and flowers falling to the floor. He let her struggle for a few seconds as she cried, but he held on tight.

"Anna," he said softly. "You can't keep running."

Her body slumped against his. She looked up at him as he held her, and a few seconds later, she let her cheek come to rest against his chest. She nodded against him as she whispered, "I don't really have anywhere to go anyway."

-------------------------

Bob kept his distance while also somehow always being nearby. Anna knew he was probably expecting her to vanish again if he turned his back for too long, but she was too mentally and physically exhausted to move from his living room couch while he fixed some tea. It was getting dark outside, and it was nearly impossible to try to think about anything other than Sunday night when she felt truly free for the first time in years. 

Similar thoughts must have been on Bob's mind, because he was still occasionally looking at her like he used to. Then his cheeks would turn pink, and he'd duck his head before showing her a completely neutral expression. She took the mug of tea he handed her and whispered, "Thank you," as he sat down as far away from her as he could. She cleared her throat as she looked into her drink and said, "You're one of the kindest, most generous people I've ever met." She forced her gaze to his face. "I'm sorry I took that for granted. And I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you and the ladies."

Bob nodded but didn't speak for a minute. His voice was as gentle as always as he eventually said, "I'd like it if we could talk."

"Yeah," she agreed softly now that she felt like the fight inside her was gone and the tears had finally dried up.

"Where's your husband?"

She pictured Kevin standing in the perfect kitchen in the beautiful house on the cul-de-sac. "In New Jersey."

"Right," Bob replied in a reassuring tone. "You said you should have been divorced by now, so does that mean you don't want to be married to him?"

"I hate him," she whispered, back to staring into her mug. "And I'm sure he hates me, too. No, I don't want to be married to him any longer."

"You're separated?" he asked softly.

Anna shrugged, wishing more than anything that she could scoot a little closer to Bob and feel his hand on hers. "Not legally. He won't sign anything."

"Right," Bob repeated again. "Would it be too much for me to ask what happened? Because I really don't understand. I'm trying, but I'm still so confused, Anna."

Her brain was screaming at her to start crying again, begging her to fall apart or hyperventilate, but she didn't even have the energy for it. She took one long sip of her perfect cup of tea before setting it aside and turning to look at him. Even now, he had sympathy in his eyes. Whether that was because he now knew she and Kevin weren't really together or because he was always this sweet, she couldn't say. But he was everything she wanted and would never have again. 

"The short version is that I put him through medical school while he cheated on me. The long version is that he used up every bit of my money, let me work myself ragged, prevented me from finishing my PhD at Princeton, belittled me, and flaunted his extramarital relationship in my face. It was humiliating knowing he was cheating. It's humiliating eating sandwiches and peanuts for every meal now. But the worst thing is that he is holding my manuscript hostage, and no matter what I do, he won't let me have it back."

"Jesus, Anna," he gasped, making the slightest move like he wanted to reach for her before pulling back.

She slowly stood, and he looked up at her, trying to gauge what she was going to do, but she just looked down at him as she tucked her shaking hands behind her back. "You're perfect," she whispered. "You're Sky Writing. You're the handsome man from the bookstore who smells like tea and soap. You're Bob, the guy my friends knew I would fall in love with as soon as I met them." She took a step back, barely able to handle how he was looking at her like she still mattered. "But I don't know how to be an us with you. I know that's what you want, but I never wanted to fall like this again. I tried my best not to. I can't do this with Kevin's shadow behind me all the time. And I'm just really sorry I let it go as far as it did. Because now that I know so much about you...."

That's when the tears arrived, and that's also when Bob stood up. "Anna, I feel like-"

When he cut himself off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air for a few seconds, she took one long, last look at him and whispered, "I'm going to go." He didn't stop her from stepping over the flowers, walking out the door, and heading to the end of his street where she waited for a ride as the night air made her shiver, and her tear streaked cheeks finally started to dry again.

----------------------------------

Oh, they both fell for each other. I'm not sure if Bob feels better or worse now. Kevin is an absolute dick, and we will hear from him in the next chapter. Keep fighting, Anna. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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[sushiyuzu]

Hiii, I was wondering if you could make smth with a fem-reader who gets super angry, like destructive when mad bcus she lacks self-control rlly bad (for me I'm mentally ill lol) so when she gets mad her s/o usually walks in to her room destroyed with a crying reader in the corner, especially when she hasn't been taking her meds it ends up like that, and can you do this with Megumi, Yuta, and Sukuna

a safe comfort 🤍

a/n: thank you so much for trusting me with this request! it was my second time receiving and writing a fanfic request, and i truly appreciate the support! please remember to take care of yourself, especially if you're struggling with mental health—your well-being is so important! <3

warning: this story includes themes of mental illness, destructive behavior, and emotional distress. please proceed with caution.

megumi fushiguro

it starts as a small thing, the kind of annoyance you’d usually brush off. but today, something feels different. it’s as if the tension has been building for days, winding tighter and tighter until finally—something snaps. and when it does, you can’t stop yourself.

your hands are trembling as you shove the lamp off your nightstand, the crash of broken glass loud in your ears. the sound echoes in your head, but it doesn’t register—not really. you’re already grabbing at the books on your desk, hurling them across the room as frustration wells up inside you, fierce and unrelenting.

the anger takes over everything. it’s all-consuming, suffocating, like a weight on your chest you can’t escape. and when it’s over, when the room lies in ruins around you, you’re left standing in the middle of it all, gasping for air, your hands still shaking as the reality of what you’ve done hits you.

you drop to the floor, curling into yourself, the tears coming fast and hard. shame burns deep in your chest, the guilt crushing you as you try to breathe through it. you don’t want to be like this—you don’t want to be the person who destroys everything.

you don’t even notice when megumi walks in. he’s always quiet like that, slipping into your space without making a sound. but you know he’s there when you hear his voice—soft, steady, calm.

“hey,” he murmurs, and the sound is so gentle it makes your chest ache. “it’s okay.”

you can’t bring yourself to look up at him, too ashamed of what he must be seeing. you’re a mess. the room’s a mess. but megumi doesn’t seem to care. he steps carefully around the broken glass, the scattered papers, and kneels down beside you without a word.

for a long moment, he doesn’t say anything, just sits there with you, his presence grounding you in a way that nothing else can. his hand hovers near your shoulder, not quite touching, as if he’s waiting for permission to get closer.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he says softly, his voice filled with quiet reassurance.

you finally lift your head, and the moment your eyes meet his, the tears come faster, harder. you choke on a sob, unable to hold it back any longer, but megumi’s arms are around you before you can even process it. he pulls you into his chest, holding you close, and for a second, you forget about the wreckage around you.

his grip is firm but gentle, his hand running through your hair in soothing strokes. he’s not one to overwhelm you with words—megumi knows that sometimes silence speaks louder. instead, he just holds you, letting you cry against him, offering a quiet strength you can lean on without fear.

“we’ll figure it out,” he says after a while, his voice steady, like a promise. “whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”

you know he means it. with megumi, there are no empty promises. just the quiet certainty that no matter how bad things get, he’s going to stay by your side. and somehow, that makes it a little easier to breathe.

the minutes stretch into what feels like hours as you sink into his embrace. with every ragged breath, you can feel the tension start to dissolve. megumi’s warmth envelops you, a safe haven amidst the storm of emotions raging inside.

as the tears slow, you begin to notice the little things—how his heartbeat thrums steadily against your ear, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air, the gentle way he holds you as if you’re something precious. it’s a comfort that seeps into your bones, reminding you that you’re not alone in this chaos.

“i know it feels overwhelming right now,” he says, his voice low and soothing, “but it doesn’t define you. you’re stronger than this moment.”

you nod against him, trying to internalize his words, but the guilt still lingers like a shadow. “i don’t want to be like this,” you whisper, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“i know,” he replies, pulling back slightly to look you in the eye. there’s a determination in his gaze, a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart swell. “and you’re not. we’ll find a way to help you. just take it one step at a time.”

he wipes away the tears on your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his touch featherlight yet grounding. in his gaze, you see understanding—an unspoken agreement that you don’t have to carry this burden alone. with megumi beside you, it’s easier to believe that healing is possible, that you can face whatever darkness lies ahead.

as you sit there, the room still in disarray, you realize it’s okay to be broken. it’s okay to ask for help. because with megumi by your side, you know you have a safe space to fall apart and rebuild. you’re not just a collection of shattered pieces; you’re a person, and that person deserves love and understanding—even in the midst of chaos.

“thank you,” you murmur, feeling a glimmer of hope rise within you.

“always,” he replies, a soft smile breaking through the worry etched on his face. “now, let’s clean this up together, okay?”

you nod, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you can find your way back to yourself.

yuta okkotsu

the anger hits you like a tidal wave, sudden and overwhelming, and before you know it, everything around you is falling apart. you’ve tried to hold it back—tried so hard—but the frustration is too much. your hands move on their own, knocking over anything within reach, the sounds of things crashing to the floor blending together in a chaotic blur.

you don’t realize how far you’ve gone until the room is a disaster—books torn from the shelves, clothes scattered across the floor, furniture tipped over in your frenzy. it’s only when the last bit of anger burns out that you see the mess you’ve made, and with it comes the crushing guilt. the shame.

you collapse to the floor, pressing your palms to your face, hiding from the destruction you’ve caused. your heart races in your chest, your breathing uneven as the tears come, slow at first, then uncontrollable.

you don’t hear the door open, don’t realize yuta’s standing there until you feel a presence near you. when he speaks, his voice is so soft, so filled with concern, it breaks your heart.

“hey,” he calls your name gently, kneeling in front of you. “what happened?”

you can’t answer him, can’t even look at him. the shame is too much. you’ve done this again—let yourself lose control, let everything spiral. yuta doesn’t push you for answers, though. he just watches you for a moment, waiting for the right time to step in.

“it’s okay,” he whispers after a while, reaching out carefully, his hand brushing against your arm in a tentative gesture. “i’m not mad. i’m just... worried.”

his words hit you in a way you didn’t expect, and before you know it, you’re falling into him. yuta catches you easily, pulling you close to his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. he’s warm, gentle, his hands soothing as he rubs slow circles against your back.

“we’ll get through this,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice steady. “whatever’s going on... we’ll handle it together.”

his embrace is firm, but never overwhelming. he holds you just tightly enough to make you feel safe, his chin resting on the top of your head as he lets you cry into his shoulder. yuta’s always been like this—soft, gentle, never pushing too hard but always there when you need him most.

“you don’t have to be afraid of this,” he adds, his voice low. “we’ll take it one step at a time, okay?”

you nod against him, even though you still feel the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. but with yuta’s arms around you, the world feels just a little bit less overwhelming.

as you pull away slightly, just enough to see his face, you can’t help but notice the concern etched in his features. his eyes search yours, looking for any sign of reassurance. “you didn’t have to hide this from me,” he says softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear that has slipped free. “i’m here for you, no matter what.”

the sincerity in his voice ignites something inside you—a flicker of hope amidst the storm of despair. “i just... don’t want to be like this,” you admit, your voice trembling. “i don’t want to keep losing control.”

“it’s okay to feel angry sometimes,” he reassures, his expression unwavering. “but you’re not alone in this. you don’t have to handle everything on your own.”

you take a deep breath, allowing his words to wash over you. it’s a reminder that while this moment feels insurmountable, it doesn’t define you. yuta doesn’t judge you for the chaos you’ve created; instead, he’s offering a lifeline, a way to navigate through the darkness together.

“let’s clean this up,” he suggests, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “but first, can we take a minute? just to breathe?”

you nod again, grateful for his understanding. yuta guides you back to the corner of the room where it feels a bit safer, sitting beside you on the floor amidst the wreckage. he takes a moment to simply breathe with you, matching his inhale and exhale to yours. in those shared breaths, you can feel the tension begin to ease, even if just a little.

“you’re strong, you know,” he says softly, looking at you with such intensity that it warms your heart. “even when it feels like everything’s falling apart, you’re still standing here. that means something.”

his words wrap around you like a warm blanket, grounding you further. you manage a small smile, a flicker of gratitude in your chest. “thank you for being here.”

“always,” he replies, the sincerity in his voice bringing a sense of comfort. “let’s start with one thing at a time. how about we pick up the books first?”

you both begin to clear the room together, moving through the remnants of your outburst. with each item you return to its place, you feel a little more in control, a little less lost. yuta’s presence is steady by your side, and as he laughs softly at the absurdity of some of the mess, you can’t help but join him.

“what a tornado you’ve created,” he teases gently, picking up a shirt and throwing it playfully at you. “it looks like a fashion disaster.”

“hey! don’t make fun of my style,” you retort, a laugh bubbling up despite the heaviness of earlier. the sound feels good, like a small victory over the lingering despair.

“i’d never!” he exclaims, mock-indignant. “your style is unique, and it needs to be respected.”

as you work together, the atmosphere shifts. the heaviness that had settled in your chest begins to lift, and with yuta’s playful banter, you start to find a lightness you thought was lost. you realize that even in moments of chaos, you can create something beautiful—like the bond you share with him.

once the room is tidied up, yuta turns to you, his expression serious again. “remember, it’s okay to ask for help. i’m just a call away, and you don’t have to face anything alone.”

you look at him, your heart swelling with gratitude. “i really appreciate you, yuta. for everything.”

“anytime,” he replies, reaching for your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “let’s take care of each other, okay?”

as you sit together in the aftermath of the storm, you know that with yuta by your side, you’ll find a way through whatever challenges lie ahead. the world feels just a little bit less daunting, and that’s more than enough for now.

ryomen sukuna

it happens fast—too fast for you to stop it. one moment, you’re pacing around the room, frustration boiling inside you like a pressure cooker, and the next, your hands are smashing into everything within reach. you’ve never been able to control it, this anger that builds and builds until it spills over, consuming everything in its path.

furniture crashes to the floor, papers scatter across the room, and the sound of breaking glass rings in your ears. you’ve wrecked the place, torn it apart with your bare hands, and now, standing in the aftermath, all you can feel is the hollow emptiness left behind.

your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, tears blurring your vision as the weight of what you’ve done settles in. you sink down to the floor, curling in on yourself, the world around you too much to handle. the anger is gone now, but the shame remains, thick and suffocating.

then you hear him—sukuna. his voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and unmistakable.

“well, well,” he drawls, his tone laced with amusement. “look at the mess you’ve made.”

you flinch, expecting the worst, but when sukuna steps into the room, there’s no mockery in his eyes. he surveys the damage with a raised brow, but instead of berating you, he simply smirks, as if he finds the whole thing more fascinating than anything else.

“you always did have a flair for destruction,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “but this... this is something else.”

you don’t respond. you can’t. the shame is too heavy, too overwhelming, and the last thing you want is for him to see you like this. but sukuna doesn’t leave. instead, he walks over to you, his boots crunching against the broken glass, and crouches down in front of you.

he tilts his head, his red eyes gleaming with something almost like curiosity. “are you done?”

you nod, though it’s barely a movement. your throat is tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, and sukuna just watches you for a moment longer before sighing. without another word, he reaches out and pulls you into his arms, not caring about the mess around him.

you’re too tired to resist, too worn out to push him away, and sukuna just holds you there, his grip firm but not painful. there’s a warmth to him, a strange sort of comfort in the way he wraps his arms around you, despite his usual roughness.

“you’re a disaster,” he mutters, his tone teasing but not unkind. “but i suppose you’re my disaster.”

you don’t know why, but his words make the tears come harder, and before you know it, you’re sobbing against his chest, your body trembling with the force of it. sukuna doesn’t shush you or tell you to stop. he just lets you cry, his hand resting on the back of your head, his fingers gently tangling in your hair.

“let it out,” he says, his voice soft now, quieter than you’ve ever heard it before. “you’ll feel better after.”

and somehow, with him holding you, the world feels just a little bit less chaotic. sukuna may not be gentle, but in this moment, he’s exactly what you need. the weight of his arms around you, solid and unyielding, keeps you anchored, keeps you from spiraling any further.

he’s not one for soft reassurances or whispered comforts, but his presence alone is enough to ground you. he lets you break down in his arms, lets you be vulnerable without judgment or impatience. there’s something oddly calming about it—being in the presence of someone so powerful, so utterly in control, when you feel like your world is falling apart.

after a long while, when your sobs finally subside, sukuna pulls back slightly. he tilts your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. his red eyes bore into yours, sharp and unwavering.

“feel better?” he asks, his voice low, his expression unreadable.

you nod, not trusting your voice to speak. he studies you for a moment longer before he lets go of your chin, standing up and brushing some debris off his clothes as if none of this bothered him in the slightest.

“next time,” he says, his tone casual, as if offering advice on something trivial, “try not to destroy everything. or at least wait until i’m around to enjoy the show.”

there’s a teasing lilt to his words, and despite yourself, despite everything, a small, tired smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

“come on,” sukuna says, offering you his hand to help you up. “let’s get out of here. you need to clear your head.”

you hesitate for only a moment before taking his hand, and he pulls you up effortlessly. as he leads you out of the wreckage of your room, there’s a strange comfort in knowing that, for all his arrogance and rough edges, sukuna’s still here—still willing to stay by your side, no matter how many times you break.

and somehow, with him, that’s enough.