#like i have a love hate relationship with it

[erasedcitizen2]

going with the extremely unpopular opinion here on this thread that having a hobby take up more than one room of a house/apartment is not the same as expressing your taste or personality. "man caves" or as I prefer to see it "hobby rooms" are actually a pretty reasonable compromise. I'm extremely grateful that I have a partner that I can discuss interior design with when it comes to our living space and that both of us are ok with our mutual hobby of gaming being in the... y'know... gaming room... instead of hanging gaming related posters everywhere or having shelves of collectibles in the living room. If you are not both onboard with having the kind of home where a shelf full of collectibles in the living room is an interior design choice you both are into... then it's a HUGE sacrifice for one of the people involved to dedicate the entire living room to displaying these collectibles. Because that IS going to be the center piece of the entire room if you do that. Especially if you live in an apartment with limited space.

I’ve seen this new trend of girls posting videos like “I hate my boyfriend for bringing all of his stupid boy things into our apartment when we moved in together 🙄” and then pictures of his hot wheels collection or a Halloween skeleton or an extremely cool pirate flag. Give him to me you do not deserve him.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ we're doing better ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ your husband has finally been honest with you, but what now?┊3.0k words; prt one (here)

contains: his pov, lots of perspective and lore, love at first sight, happy ending where the reader forgives him, note that sociopathic/psychopathic behavior has no known cure & that this is unrealistic fiction, he can’t be fixed but he can be here <3

➤ author's note: the long-awaited & heavily-requested part two!! the ending is sucky because i didn’t plan to write a part two and because i personally wouldn’t have forgiven him, but lots of you guys seemed to want to. i wanted to write something exploring their relationship, so i hope this is received well & that you guys will enjoy!

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning” were the last words you said to him before rushing out the door and disappearing to your mother’s house. that was last night, but it was now early evening with the sun finishing its descent over the horizon and you were nowhere to be seen. he briefly wondered if you were also watching it from wherever you were like he was through the window, knowing that you adored the beautiful array of colors blending into each other and always pointed it out when you were with him. he never cared for it himself and took the sight for granted until you came along. now he’s aching for your presence asking him if he thought it was pretty when you were always the prettiest sight in his eyes with the orange light reflecting on you.

his hand was itching to call you or send a text, but he decided against it. you needed your space, especially after that fateful conversation which left him with regret weighing heavy on his chest. he wasn’t sure what the regret stemmed from, if it was regret from not trying harder to keep his secret, if it was from not being more careful to hide his tracks from seong gi-hun, if it was from attempting to build a normal life, or if it was leading the type of life had in the first place. it was a mix of everything, and he hated the feeling of it.

gong ji-cheol never regretted anything in his life. he didn’t regret spending his days getting a sadistic kick out of playing judge and jury to people he viewed as worthless trash when they lost against him, whether it was slapping people he was recruiting into games they would inevitably die in or spending his free time messing around with homeless people. he didn’t regret getting tangled up with the mysterious oh il-nam and the activities occurring on that island, starting as a guard and working his way up to a salesman. he didn’t regret firing a gun on his own father in cold blood when he unknowingly begged his own flesh and blood to spare him.

he’s a man who was steadfast and stubborn when it came to his fucked-up morals and ideals, always believing from a young age that it made him better than others. there was never a reason for him to change as he got older when he found himself working for a hidden organization that introduced him to the addicting taste of death, paid well, and protected him from the law if the unlikely situation of getting caught by authorities for his crimes ever happened. he never cared to do the right thing was doing wrong was just so much more suited to him, never minding the strict set of rules he had to adhere to as long as he was allowed to freely exercise his psychopathic tendencies without trouble following him. it made him feel like a god at times who was so high above normal people if he ignored that he was still an employee with a boss.

and now he’s sitting in the living room, disheveled and staring at the floor waiting for your return like a dog awaiting its master.

he couldn’t even be mad at you for storming out like that. he’s surprised about how mellow your reaction was to learning the truth of his occupation and how dirty the cash he used to spoil you was, how you didn’t scream loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and how you didn’t call the police— or maybe you had already called them at some point today and his friends in higher places were working to keep him safe. more than anything, he misses you, filled with a feeling of longing he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

at first, he was only trying to look normal. the people around him started to wonder why a man as tall and handsome as he with money that flowed in like water from an unknown source he kept secret was still single. when people wonder, they start to become nosy. he couldn’t have that if he wanted to keep up the lifestyle he had, so he started searching for someone suited to be his wife. 

to others, he seemed incredibly picky, never reaching out for a second date even once or even bothering to send a polite text saying he didn’t feel a connection. to him, he didn’t think he was picky enough. despite carefully combing through his options and sometimes even hiring private investigators to stalk them if needed, there was always something he missed which was a dealbreaker for him in a relationship: ignorance and stupidity, improper table manners when he reserved at a fine restaurant, running more than fifteen minutes late without traffic in the way, and most importantly for him, asking too many prying personal questions which weren’t relevant on the first date. yes, he understands that first dates are all about getting to know each other, no, he doesn’t find it necessary to talk about stupid things. although he would rather not say anything at all, he’s very particular about how quickly he shares information about himself with others and gets ticked off by anyone who tries too hard to learn more about it (he won’t admit it, but he also gets a bit threatened by it).

by the time the day his first date with you rolled around, he was ready for it to be his last before he lived out his life alone as originally planned. he lost his faith that he would find someone who lived up to his lofty expectations and received news that oh il-nam was dead. the next games were canceled to mourn the loss of the founder, and part of ji-cheol wondered if he should cancel the date as well to take the time to pay his respects. he didn’t think you would be the one and believed there wouldn’t be any difference whether or not he actually showed up.

yet there was something in him that refused to pick up the phone and make up an excuse. it was indescribable like a higher power making sure that he followed the path intended for him. he told himself it was nothing but not wanting to be rude when it was only half an hour before the arranged time and because he didn’t want to pay the cancellation fee, nothing more nothing less. he never cared before if he was thought of as rude to people he didn’t intend to keep in his life for long, and he had enough money to buy the entire place if he wanted to.

so what was his problem all of a sudden?

you showed up perfectly on time, a few seconds before the clock struck, looking beautiful. it’s not a word he uses often. pretty, maybe, but not beautiful, yet it was the first word that crossed his mind when you introduced yourself. he found himself enamored by your presence and everything about it from how you carried yourself to the subtle glitter eyeshadow that made your eyes sparkle to the dainty jewelry hanging around your neck, so enamored that he forgot to accept your outstretched hand and to get up to pull out your seat for you at first.

more than easy on the eyes, dressed appropriately, good table manners, well-educated, never pressing too hard on matters he clearly didn’t want to talk about, you were quickly checking off everything on his list as his partner— although what he was really looking for was to draw away suspicions and your likable personality made you perfect for the job, he could even see you as a companion. even if you were visibly nervous, he didn’t mind, your timidness was adorable actually, akin to a little bunny being fed by his hand.

when he finally got home, he realized he was still smiling when he’s usually constantly reminding himself to do so. he also realized that he lost track of time and came back a whopping two hours later than he expected.

it was history from there, gong ji-cheol, a man who saw other humans as unequal trash, had succumbed to love at first sight, which baffled him.

it made him remember a scene from his childhood, one where he asked his mother why she remained married to his deadbeat father after another night of him not showing up in favor of gambling and drinking instead of spending it with his own family. she embraced him with tears, once again reminding him of her own tale of love at first sight, and also telling him that when you’re so deep in love like she was, you’re willing to forgive them for anything.

he thought she was stupid for that. now he knows he’s truly just like his mother just like everyone said.

you were shy in the first steps of the relationship, quickly realizing that you had become a glorified sugar baby of sorts. he didn’t know how to express his affection through words nor did he have the extra time to spend with you during that time of the year, so he spoiled you with lavish gifts and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. any debts you might have were paid off, one of the nicest condos in korea was bought for you to move in together, your parent's retirement was paid off in full to allow them to stop working, and any other money-related issues were quickly covered by him. you could even quit your job if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to become too dependent on him and wouldn’t know what to do with all the extra time in your day.

it soon became clear there was a boundary not to be crossed, which was not to dig too much into his personal life. if he gave you a curt, general answer to your question, you were not to say anything more about the matter. no one you spoke to about this thought this was too strange, even when you were preparing to get married, because what was there to worry your pretty head about? you love him and he loves you, he was treating you better than a queen, and his wealth spread into your circle of people you cared about with friends getting luxury perfumes and parents getting first-class tickets to wherever they wanted. in a way, they didn’t want to ask any more questions if it meant angering him and possibly not having these things anymore.

you never liked it, but he never cared about it. they were just trivial things and he was perfectly fine with sharing what he had, or at least, that’s what he told you. it was mainly to ensure he was well-liked among them and no one would ever try to come between you.

the only people who ever did were a few snakes parading as your friends trying to steal him away from you, trying to seduce him, and getting too close for his comfort. you were too sweet to notice and always forgave it if you did, but he noticed their lingering eyes and was disgusted. it was the one time he allowed his mask to slip, calling them out for being human garbage with a polite smile on his face as they gasped in shock. if they tried to cry to you about how awful he was to them, he simply told you the truth and encouraged you to cut them off which you always did.

the garden he carefully cultivated of a normal domestic life was flourishing. you were so captivated by the colorful flowers he planted and the butterflies pollinating them that you didn’t notice how dirty his gloved hands were when ripping out anything that didn’t belong like weeds trying to sprout through the soil. he was always sure to take them off and discard them afterward, never daring to touch you with the sins of his life outside of you.

then you fell pregnant after months of trying, and while he was overjoyed at first with renovations in mind to turn one of the extra rooms into a nursery, there was an unease in him wondering if the child would turn out like him: a remorseless psychopath who would one day kill his own father as he did his. he would later by a few books about parenting, hoping that he could prevent that type of future.

time flew by and he hadn’t killed anyone in a while although he was still complicit in hundreds of deaths a year. his violent urges slowly calmed and his hand was only raised during ddakji matches, but even then, they were more gentle than before (which meant that they still stung and made their face swell up, but it was an improvement when in the past, he would sometimes hit them so hard that they could taste blood on their tongue). 

the effects of being a husband and soon-to-be father were changing who he was at his very core, but it didn’t change everything he’s already done.

he was stupid to think he could have such a picture-perfect life with the woman he loved after everything. for someone who meticulously plans out things down to each syllable of the words he spoke, he didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do once he was found out.

the law couldn’t touch him, but he didn’t care about the law, he cared about you and your unborn child. 

he ran his hand through his messy dark locks, sighing in frustration trying to think of a solution as he dug around the kitchen until he fished out an entire bottle of wine. he could manipulate himself out of this situation as he had done countless times before, he’s a snake with a forked silver tongue who could easily get his way just by flickering it, but the thought of lying to you again broke his once unfeeling heart. it would never be the same way again with your relationship tainted with distrust. the truth would have to come out eventually.

oh god, but what would he do without you? 

before he could begin to spiral for the fourth time that day about what would happen if you left him, the familiar sound of a keypad being pressed and the front door being unlocked. he froze in place, not expecting you to come back at that very moment— but he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. he wasn’t sure of anything, simply staring at you when you caught him hunched over the counter drinking straight from a bottle of wine and looking like a child whose mom just caught him sneaking a snack at two in the morning.

“oh god, i leave for a day and you’re already a wreck, what happened to the ji-cheol who’s always put together even when it’s raining?” you approached him casually, reaching up to mess around with his hair until he looked more like his usual self. there was an air of awkwardness you tried to hide and was successful for the most part, but he could read you easier than a book. you were nervous around him now, acting with slight fear and carefulness like you were inching around a predator, and even flinched when he hugged you to feel your presence and breathe in your scent. 

you hugged him back after a moment, looking up at him with your voice shaking, “if it’s really… that… then i understand it would be dangerous for you to tell me, so i won’t ask any more questions… i don’t… i don’t want to leave you and leave our child fatherless…”

if you were any other person in the world, he would have smirked at the fact that he didn’t need to bother trying to manipulate you into staying with him. he would have relished his control over you and how you came back in the end, free to continue killing and asking people to play a game with him to satisfy his sadistic desires. 

but you weren’t any other person in the world, you were his wife.

“you really forgive me? after knowing all that?”

“i guess love really does let you look past everything no matter how bad… at least you didn’t cheat on me as my friends suggested, that would be the real unforgivable offense…”

the topic of his occupation never came up again, but he made the choice to resign on account of it no longer fitting with his current lifestyle. the current frontman, who was an old friend of his, looked upon him fondly for his loyalty, thanked him for his service, and was even kind enough to use his connections to find him a new place to work. it was boring by his standards, but it paid well and wasn’t illegal, so he persevered. he now has plenty of things to tell you about his workplace, from the annoying co-worker who keeps showing him the most random unfunny things on the internet to how the coffee shop downstairs wasn’t half bad. mundane things that made you grin when he told you about his day, which was all that mattered to him.

you soon gave birth to a healthy baby girl with his eyes and your smile. the world became a lot brighter, even with all the sleepless nights of her crying and learning how to change diapers. she was a little joy born out of his love for you. 

finally, you’re both doing better, and he no longer has to hide himself away from you.

tag list!! @tric0rd / @solatiiium / @iloveragdollcats / @sugaremedy / @pear-1206 / @orangutanjazz / @boowiththegoo / @knoepfl / @miaasmf / @queenjang21 / @larissa-slays69 / @munch3025 / @qrstarz / @capital-koreasofia / @swiftieee4lifeee / @liliylikescats / @maryyyswift / @vaenys2 / @bane-y-zane / @dynaloy / @chunkzdeluluwife / @everyonelovestay / @tomhollandtoothbrush

there will not be a part three, thank you for reading!!

[boygirlctommy]

hate getting attached to characters. like okay what if there was a 16 year old kid whos abrasive and loud and kindof rude. what if he hates being told what to do but would follow two people to the ends of the earth. what if he raised himself what if every day was a fight to stay alive what if he just wants to hold onto the people he has left. what if hes childish and emotional, because hes a kid for fucks sake.

[just-another-hippie]

OKAY LETS DO IT

1. It's super fucking complicated !!

2. @decomposing-atm <3

3. An awful lot, way too much to list here and basically all about my childhood :(

4. Ehh 50/50

5. Taken <3

6. I've been debating this for ages and I'm still not sure

7. Uhhh homemade wild berry compote on Greek yoghurt (fuckin fancy ik)

8. Yep! I was very athletic when I was younger but then illnesses and eds SLAPPED me so I stopped for a while, but I'm getting into bouldering and weightlifting now that I'm recovered :]

9. HELL NO

10. Uhh when my older stepsister was round last weekend because she likes to hurt me totally unprompted ://

11. My boyfie hehe

12. Uhhhh maybe?? I've pulled so many all-nighters I can't remember

13. I don't hate people because I believe it's bad for my mental health, I tend to set boundaries and burn bridges if people are bad to me, then wish them the best and hope that one day they will truly find happiness and become a better person

14. A lot of people :(

15. YES!! My cat hermione hehe I'll post a pic of her cause she's super duper cute

16. Ehh a bit mixed atm, I'm just making sure I keep fighting because I'm sure as shit gonna make it out alive.

17. No and as "sexy" as it seems I am also a MASSIVE germaphobe so please can we do it somewhere nicer /silly

18. VERY VERY VERY FUCKING MUCH GOD DAMN

19. Definitely, and I know exactly when in my childhood :/

20. Uhhh I think his room HAHA

21. Yikes umm

22. I don't plan to have bio kids because I'm anti-natalist, but if I was in the right headspace then I would adopt older kids which got left in the system

23. I have 5 piercings, double lobe piercings in both ears and a septum piercing! I'm getting snakebites next year and I'll think about what else after that!

24. Uhhh idk I hate school so bad >:(

25. Very very much so :(

26. Chocolate HAHA

27. N/A

28. N/A

29. N/A

30. The state of the world, my home life, my lack of organisation??

31. Yes!!

32. I think green, but I love colours so I'm not sure, I'm more about vibes

33. DEFO

34. Uhh last night it was hugging @strawberri-bomb-bomb which was hella sweet because I miss them

35. Unfortunately my mother

36. I used to an awful lot, but I absolutely don't anymore

37. I may forgive but I never forget

38. Fuck yeah it will be

39. 14 <3

40. I fear not /silly

(Apparently they skipped some)

51. Man I love food so much I literally couldn't pick LMAO

52. I used to, but I lost my faith last year, I'm trying to get back to that sense of peace I had in knowing that what will be will be

53. Talk to my boyfie and drink chamomile tea

54. Absolutely fucking not!! unless you're trapped in an abusive relationship that you've tried to leave, any other circumstance go fuck yourself

55. No!! My whole thing is about peace, love, and kindness!!

56. Uhh not too many I hope

57. Absolutely 100000000%

58. SUNSHINE!!!!!

59. Hell yes, I wish we had it more where I live i love it sm :((

60. Yes!!

61. YES!!

62. So much that it deserves its own list

63. I already have socially but I will legally on my birthday!! If we mean change my name from my name now then I'm not inclined to, but I wish I chose a cooler name /j

64. The only challenge is distance /j

65. Then I'd tell them no thank you let's stay friends!!

66. Uhh I pick my friends very wisely so I'm comfortable around all of them I think, but some more than others

67. I have no idea I've slept for ages and it was like a coma /silly

68. Uhhhh I don't know maybe my boyfie??

69. ABSOLUTELY

70. The people closest to my heart

I did itttt!!

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[enchantressiren]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐀 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥.❞

Who has their eye on you? (Very detailed)

Masterlist.

Author's note,

I would appreciate if everyone read this -> Boundaries.

Divider.

Pile I.

If you’re into men, then this pile is for you. If not, you picked the wrong pile (an intuitive disclaimer).

There is a tall man who makes sure he takes care of himself and always eyes your body like eye candy. Their smell is rich, it makes your nostril flare up slightly, aching to be beneath him and allowing him to stuff you full. This man knows how to draw you in and likes to play coy around you. Possibility of him manifesting you as their specific person with one sided love (on his side), or you both are manifesting each other unaware you both are looking for the same qualities in each other. He is someone who likes to subtly touch you and apologize gracefully for others when you know damn well he is bullshitting. He is someone who focuses on being the best version of himself for the wealth that streams from his wallet. Meaning, it does not matter who you are, he is going to do everything in his power to take what is his. Even if that means it is you and your private parts.

Some of you actually have already had sex with him and have made him your friend with benefits, or you have somewhat of a situationship. During sex, they absolutely love to grope your ass, always telling you how perfect it is and how it fits right with his dick. How it thrusts nicely into your ass or pussy (depending on your situation). Or how it feels so warm on the tip of his dick as it hits and molds nicely into your sweet spot. He is the epitome of those mafia stories you see in smut stories or Wattpad stories (but very nicely done stories). He reeks of sexy perfume and dark red, adding a bit of dark blue if he were a color. His aura drags you in, which is how the both of you had sex in the bathroom, somewhere with people, whether it was hidden or risky, or how you both met if you don’t have a specific relationship with them. He is someone who will brag about how good his aftercare is but suck painfully with it and need your guide for it. His ego is through the roof, but you make this bastard soft as a puppy. He is aching to be around you, and when he is, he always struggles to hide his boner, or the bulge in his pants. He loves sucking your juices or will if you do decide to have sex or date him.

If you do decide to date him, the relationship will be gorgeous and surprisingly healthy considering how his mind runs. Or how you have seen him with others, the trope “I hate everyone, and I mean everyone but you and my pet” is really it. Key of advice: make sure to give him a blowjob during angry sex so he can become pudding and pamper you. His last lover never gave him oral, so he has been craving it, but also, it is part of a love language for him.

Masterlist.

Pile II.

It’s not a who, more so a what. Now, I know that sounds confusing, but let me make it clear. Do you speak to deities? Spirits, ghosts, and so forth that are associated with sexual energy? Because that is what I am picking up, and their energy is so soothing that you know you can trust them, and they are there to guide you through your journey. I would not say they are like spirit guides, or part of your ancestral guide, but they are similar to a teacher.

They are eyeing you because they want to protect you and make sure you follow their teachings. A lot of you are becoming impatient with your future spouse, lover, fwb, etc., coming to you and assuming every person that feels ‘’right’’ to you, or that you connect well with, is your lover/situationship. None of them that are coming are yours; you are supposed to meet them, and that is what they told you, so listen to them. They are meant to help you despite what others have said about them. Some of the people that you have spoken to were into this and have told you not to trust them because of what they are and the stories about them, but from an energy perspective, they are trustworthy and actually adore you. Now, I am always hesitant to talk about deity energy since I don’t know if the pile you are reading is actually for you or not, but I will give you signs that may help:

Lucifer, Lilith, Nyx, Athena, Zeus, Tlazolteotl, sponge it up, something to do with pain, tears, and breaking his heart, breaking my heart, Apollo is my certain love, and the demons of it’s figure.

Now, if these signs are not fitting with what you have seen, heard, spoken to, etc., then do not trust the deity you speak with. It does not matter if the deity you speak to is not in the sign list, it is only what signs were channeled. and what resonated. And if it does not fit through, please cleanse your energy fast and efficiently since I keep seeing red warning signs and alarms ringing in my head.

Moving on, your deity has spoken to you about the gifts your future person will bring into the relationship, but they have spoken about how you are being ungrateful with the circumstance you have right now. I understand that sometimes trying to figure out who your future person can be draining and exciting, but it can also cause weird paranoia. And that sometimes it feels like those mystery games, but you have to let it go, trust in your deity (and spirit guides for some), and work on yourself. You have to learn to trust your intuition about which deity you speak to, about who you have sex with, and when you masturbate (because intuition tells me you are causing yourself more pain in associating yourself with your trauma kinks/thoughts instead of focusing on what makes you feel good), and ignoring the signs that tell you to leave certain situations surrounding you. Your environment has a lot of toxicity, and you only stay in them so you do not feel lonely, but sometimes it is a good thing to be lonely since you learn a lot about who you are. And that is something you need and what your deities have been telling you. Some of you are ignoring their teachings because you use people to hide away from your pain.

You need to talk to yourself as you would with someone else that you felt close to and get to know yourself as a best friend. Learn to appreciate your behaviors that you find “repulsive,” and understand that it is okay to be different than everyone else. Being different is not repulsive, it is a beautiful and cool thing. Fitting in is what is ruining your relationship with yourself and your future person. So instead of being so impatient about something that can happen within the year, why don’t you use that time to do better for yourself? Because at the end of the day, the only person who is stopping you is you. You are the person who can change your world, even if it is something small. For example, let’s say you are living in a toxic environment, but you have a desire to learn all you can? You can use free resources that allow you to. The internet has the same resources that allow you to learn, you do not need courses to learn or scholarly reports to learn. Everything is available to us now because of how broad the internet is. Now, you could have complained about it, but you did not and decided to do better for yourself and change. One step at something is much better than doing absolutely nothing. Even if you read something for a minute, it can still benefit you.

I felt like something was missing when I was editing your work, but some of you have to understand this fully. You cannot manifest your future person either. Some of you thought about it throughout this pile, and like I mentioned, I understand how desperate you are for love, but this paranoia that is surrounding you and your heart is the problem. I understand that you can manifest anything, and it does not matter how you do it, but you have this belief that it does matter, and you must have emotions in order to manifest. So instead, why don't you have a clear mind and heart for this person, so when you do meet them, you can be better for both yourself and them as well as make it easier for yourself to manifest with a clear conscience? Do not be your own blockage when it comes to this or sabotage yourself through your overwhelming paranoia that surrounds your mind every second of your time.

Masterlist.

Pile III.

Your first kiss back from August when you were either a kid or a teenager. You still keep in touch with them. I wouldn’t say the kiss meant anything between you both, I would say it happened by accident for the both of you until now. Have you noticed their flirty remarks with you, especially when you hang out around others, how they only gaze at you despite others coming to flirt with them, how they pamper you for no reason, or how they are doing it more frequently, how they decided it would be best if they stood next to you where the cars are located rather than the other way around? How they believe it is important for you to suddenly take care of yourself, and though some of you already do, they make it somewhat overbearing, but you push it aside because it is them. Have you also noticed how doting they are with you, how sometimes they coddle you, or how they make sure you have taken your medication when it comes to your body or latest surgery? Have you noticed all of these, or have you been pushing them aside because you would rather stay oblivious instead of admitting your teenage crush has feelings for you, or perhaps has already fallen in love with you? With your ability to be genuine with everyone, with your ability to show people respect and compassion without seeking anything back, with your ability to write efficiently without the need to re-edit your work, with your ability to be smooth when you think you are being geeky and awkward. Have you also noticed how they make somewhat dirty remarks only around you? Have you noticed they do it out of respect for your body and privacy, and yet you still decide to ‘’act’’ oblivious because it is too scary to admit they like you back? The word "back” scares you, it is like your heart is trying to escape, but a strong pull is pushing you back into the same corner. It is not a bad thing to be committed to someone in a relationship, but for you, being stuck in one relationship and not having the ability to explore with others seems suffocating. And for you, all of this stems from trauma, that one memory you are pushing away in hopes it gets pushed away as well.

I am not the person to decide for you whether or not you explore this relationship with them; all I will mention are some things that may change your mind since that is what your heart is begging for you to do. As well as some key things to help you heal.

When things become tough for you, your favorite activity is throwing the relationship away or sabotaging your achievements through disrespecting your honor and then laughing about it. When things become tough, it is easier for you to feel shame or regret rather than deal with the toxicity of your actions. And lastly, when things become tough, it is easier for you to be your own ruthless villain than to take accountability for your wrongdoings. Yet, at the end of the day, there is one person who has always stayed by your side, never changing their mind on who you are because they know how far you can go. They know how much potential you would have if you allowed yourself to deal with your sadness and realize that being sad is not a weakness nor is it a blessing. Our emotions are simply emotions, they come and go. Sometimes they make us realize some things, giving us mental clarity, and other times, they are a reminder of how we feel about the situation, or internally. In short, emotions are subjective and man made, therefore, feeling those emotions should not be the problem when it comes to challenges arising. You should understand that you are the one creating those emotions.

For example, let’s say that I am dealing with a breakup. The usual response would be to cry about it and think about them constantly, be angry and try to seek revenge or be petty, maybe sleep around and brush them out of my mind, etc. But this would stem from how secure I am with who I am and how our relationship was like. Though, if I were secure, then I would understand what had happened, use that sadness as an opportunity to improve, and learn the lessons. Embrace the fond memories, or perhaps use those memories to find someone better for myself. But then again, this is my idea of how a breakup would go if someone was healthy or unhealthy. How do you see it? You have to ask yourself this.

Once you have asked yourself this and finally understood it, ask yourself another question. “Why do I feel the need to distance myself from those that actually care for me? What am I seeking when I do this, and how is it helping me?” Asking this will help you understand if you actually want a relationship in the first place and help trigger those fears in a safe manner instead of you pushing yourself to be someone else when you answer self-aware questions.

Now that you have asked these and fully understood them, allow me to speak about your friend, and then it will be your choice. And if you need to stop this reading and come back after a month, then please read this when you are fully ready.

This person has been by your side when you ruin your past relationships. They are someone who will stop what they are doing to be by your side or help you when your past comes back to you. Sometimes, they will pamper you with fresh fruits or hot meals and hope it can soothe your mind away from those thoughts that have been affecting you lately. They are someone who will soothe your tears with kisses or caress your tears away with pure determination; someone who sees the bright side of things when you think it is better to be realistic and pessimistic. They are someone who texts you faster and makes sure your feelings are taken into consideration, as well as your family (if you are close with them) or your pet that may be sick at the moment, and if not, your pets. They will buy you the things you adore without any expectations or seeking your validation (your exs were like that). They are someone who will be firm with you when you make a mistake but not allow you to walk over them. They are someone who sets boundaries with you and others, and though it does not go well with others, they keep their head high and focus on what is more important to them. They are someone who hates the concept of gossip and makes sure to not engage, and when they are pulled into it, they act oblivious and make sure people see them as ‘dumb’ or ‘silly.’ To them, it is better to be seen as that than engage with something repulsive like that. They are someone who makes sure they uplift people, especially behind their back, and you have seen it multiple times, thus causing your heart to fall for them.

Yeah, you are crushing on them hard since you were young but have been pushing away from your past experiences. Some of you are actually in love with them but keep gaslighting yourselves because it is easier for you. And ironically, ‘Love Someone’ by Lukas Graham popped up. It fits quite well with how they view you and how you view this whole situation. I believe there is nothing else to channel because once you listen to the song, everything will make sense.

Masterlist.

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

i have many thoughts on lee gilyoung and kim dokja but i fear i may explode if i try to articulate them fully

there is something to be said in the way kdj and orv as a whole really tends to sidestep lgy. like kdj cares about lgy of course. and orv obviously wants us to care about lgy or else they would have killed him off for shock value or fridged him way earlier than they did or something. and yet he remains in the main story but still on the sidelines

i think there is something very sad to be said about how kdj very openly tends to love on/lavish attention onto sys and like consciously acknowledge that she is, in many ways, his daughter, yet doesnt really do the same for lgy. there is something very sad to be said about the way kdj tends to refer to sys individually, but only to lgy in the collective "kids." there is something very sad in the way kdj saw himself in lgy the first time he saw him on the subway and saw him both as a boy to be saved and a tool to be used and i dont think their relationship ever really recovered from this.

like he cares about them because he doesnt want to be a shitty father-figure but hes a shitty father-figure because he cares. and while sys is saved from the brunt of this to a degree because shes a character so he can just mimic how yjh treats her in worldlines where she's saved and get by on that, lgy doesnt have that kind of support. lgy is not a fictional wunderkid or pitiable, fragile little girl (however true or false that assessment of sys is). hes a snot nosed foul mouthed violent boy obsessed with bugs and death and kdj, i think, knows he ought to care for him but he doesnt know how and doesnt bother to learn and that, i believe, the not-bothering that is, is what truly incriminates him as a shitbag father. hes afraid so he doesnt try and lgy spends 90% of orv being terrified kdj secretly hates him and the worst part is hes almost right

[everythingspokenfor]

All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI.

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You knew this was a possibility, that's why you took extra precautions, tied the strings so well that you were sure you'll have to cut them at the end of the day. But here you were, contemplating how on earth did this happen...

Mina had finally pulled the entire group into going on a vacation, choosing one of the Okinawa beaches, all of you packed up and came to the private penthouse. The vacation was long overdue, everyone too excited to chill out and relax.

It was all good, friends chilling out eating, drinking and finally relaxing after months of tedious hero work.

You were thoroughly enjoying yourself, even if you had to deal with him. Bakugou and you had a sort of love hate relationship, constantly fighting but still having each other's back. Friends constantly commenting about the thick sexual tension between you both, which left you yelling at them, they weren't wrong tho, not that you would admit outloud.

"Move, Sugar." Bakugou rasps out, hand holding a can of beer, he was shirtless, wet swim trunks sticking to him thighs, tan lines clearly visible on his legs, he was still glossy from playing in the water. Had you hated him any lesser, you would have licked the water off him, alas that thought is something to be revisited in darker hours of the night.

"Go around the towel, dipshit", You retort, going back to lathering yourself up with sunscreen, he snorts, before stepping on your fucking towel and going along.

"Asshole!" You yell at him, whole he continues to laugh at your face. You took in deep breaths, this fucker isn't going to ruin your vacation.

You got back to your sunscreen, before reapplying you lip gloss, you put too much effort into your appearance today. It was a deep maroon two piece, the bottoms had a fabric around it making it seem like a mini skirt, while the top was tied with strings.

As much as you loved the bikini, the top was making you nervous, you had taken every measure to prevent the strings from untying, even kept a spear towel, having heard too many stories of women losing their bikinis in the sea making you paranoid. It was probably also why you hadn't ventured into the ocean yet.

"Gurll- you lookin' cute there." Mina walked up to you, handing you a bright blue concoction, you grinned at her before downing the drink.

"Thanks, babes." You giggled, cheekily winking at her.

"What aren't you getting into waters tho? The weather is pleasant too." She queried, leaning in to steal your gloss. "I am gonna go, just applied sunscreen." You dusted your hands, as you stood up, Mina finished putting on the gloss, tossing the tube in your bag before both of you raced into the waters.

The boys, Kaminari, Kirishima and Sero welcomed you both in with splashes, playing around in waters lasted for a bit, after multiple rounds of chicken fight, Kirishima called Bakugou, asking him to join in.

"Ain't interested in yer shitty games." He yelled back, didn't bother looking at the group.

"Scared you'll lose," Sero provoked him, knowing that with right words he can get Bakugou to do anything.

"Fuck did ya' say?" He grits out, before standing up and charge towards your group, all of you scream before swimming in different directions, trying to not be his first victim.

Adrenaline pumped through your vessels, as you swam to furthest end of the shore, leaning against the big rocks keeping you hidden from the main shore. Breathing hard, you placed a hand on your chest, trying to slow the beating of your heart. Only to come to a horrible realisation that you weren't wearing your bikini top.

You were bare from waist above, frantically you tried looking for you top, hoping to find a maroon cloth lying somewhere, unfortunately you couldn't see anything that could vaguely resemble your bikini.

Panic set in when you realised that from this end of the shore, you can't even go to your spot on the beach, chance of grabbing your towel without being seen by your friends were too thin.

"Caught you!" Bakugou roars as he swims around the rocks, only to be stopped as you let out a yell, turning away from him.

"Stay there, Bakugou!" You barely even stay afloat, hairs shielding your back, while hands crossing over your chest.

"What? You suddenly don't want to play, when I catch you?" He rasps out, slightly curious as to why you wouldn't even turn to face him.

"It's not that." You let out a sigh, contemplating whether it's a good idea or not to ask Bakugou for help, he could potentially swin back and get you a towel.

"What is it then, Sugars?" He is much closer now, you can almost feel him behind you. "My top is lost." You whined out, praying he helps you.

"Sorry, what?!"

"My bikini top is lost, it untied while swimming." You whisper-yell at him, giving him a stink eye over your shoulder. He doesn't reply, instead it goes too quite, you slowly peek over your shoulder, only to lock eyes at Bakugou who is already looking at you.

Infact he was looking slightly below, as if checking whether or not you had the top. "Fucking pervert, I'll beat your ass!" Had your hands not been busy you would have whacked him.

"I am not a fucking pervert, I was thinking."

"Had you thought longer, you would have popped a boner."

"You want my help or not."

You went silent at that, of course you needed his help, especially if you didn't want to flash your friends.

"That's what I thought." He speaks at your silence, his voice a little too smug, "you got spear clothes here?" He queried, swimming back a little to look at your bag by the beach.

"I have a towel in there, it's big enough for me." You answer him over your shoulder, he wasn't looking at you anymore instead he was turned away mostly, head slightly tilted so he could hear you.

"Stay put, I'll get it," he almost start swimming before he turns towards you and says "Try not loosing the bottoms, in the meantime." And off he goes.

You knew just from that comment, he isn't going to let you live it down, you are sure he'll probably end up changing your name to some stupid shit constantly reminding you of today, but at least he is helping.

Everybody had already gone inside, letting Bakugou get you, when he reached where your towel had been laid out, he looked for your bag, not wanting to snoop too much, he got to work, quickly looking into the back to realise that there wasn't any towels in it. For a moment he wondered whether he should gather up your sand towel but decided against it.

He quickly jogged over to his spot at the beach, and grabbed the t-shirt he was wearing earlier, getting back into the ocean, he swam towards the rocks where you were hidden.

"Oi! There wasn't any towels, got you a t-shirt tho." He stretches an arm towards you, wet t-shirt in his fist.

"I had one, tho." You look at him in confusion, submerged neck deep into the ocean, hands crossed tightly. You were facing him slightly, eyes looking that clothe, you unwrapped one arm, from around yourself and reached for it, Bakugou averted his gaze, further stretching out his hand so you could reach it.

He moved a little closer, eyes still looking away, arms spread to make sure nobody can see you, even if it a private area of the beach.

You put the shirt on, feeling a little less exposed, turning around to fully face Bakugou, "Thank you, I suppose." You sheepishly scratch the back of your head, assuming the interaction is over and you'll both head back in.

"First of all☝🏻'you suppose?' and secondly you owe me more than a thank you."

He spits out, crossing his arms, and jutting out his hips. You eyes immediately drifted to his tits pecs that had become extenuated, before immediately locking eyes with his.

"Fucking pervert," He mimicked your earlier words.

"I am not! What do you want, Bakugou?" You exasperated, sighing dramatically, crossing your arms as well.

He moved towards you, arms unfolding to sway by his side, "Be nice, Sugar."

You scoff, eyes squinting at him suspiciously, more than aware of how close he was to you. He leans in clear, backing you against the rocks, leaning towards one side, leaving ample space for you to move away from him if you wanted.

He was close enough you could feel his minty breath onto your face, he locked eyes with you before leaning in, instinctively you closed your eyes, head tilting as your hands came to rest on his chest.

The kiss was taking a bit too long, peeking with one eye, you realised Baking was staring at you with s grin on his face.

"You asshole!!" You yelled at him, pushing at his chest, trying to move away from him, he was cackling, hands still grasping at your wrists, not letting you move away from him.

"Sorry, sorry." He wheezed out, pulling you towards him,"Oi, I am sorry, listen Sugars."

You didn't care tho, too tired to be dealing with his shenanigans, he was determined tho, pulled at your wrists, turning to glare at him, you were surprised by feeling of his lips against yours.

You stood there limp, Bakugou taking the lead for you, one arm around your waist other tilting your head to the side, deepening the kiss. You slowly brought you hands around his neck, fingers coming to run through his blonde hairs.

You pull away breaths heavy, he continues kissing down your jaw, leaving behind love bites for you to later press into.

He comes back up, pressing his forehead against yours, "So, how 'bout I take you out, Sugars?"

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[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Obsession (Part 2)

Player 001 x reader

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Part 1

Tw: stalker!In Ho

Note: (c/n) stand for cat name

5 years had gone by and all In Ho had to go off of were bank statements and transactions to know where you were and if you were still alive. He knew where you lived, your favorite places to eat, to watch movies, and where your favorite shop was. He also knows you have new kitten, but not his name, probably something like (c/n).

No new lover. Nothing since you left. You picked up a job as a (whatever you wanna be), and were living. He knew in his mind the reason you couldn’t move on was because of him and he knew it.

He snuck around and watched you through plain view. Sometimes he sent people to watch you and report back to him. Other times, he’d travel to where you were and stalk you, follow you to the market, ducking you between isles, or on the train, watching you through a crowd of people.

He would stand in front of the cottage you bought on the edge of town, how easy it’d be to take you. You had a bad habit of leaving your windows open. Leaving your life open for all to see. He’s watched you masturbate more times than he can count. He has videos of you throwing your head back as you cum. Your moans quietly seeping through the window. He would jerk off at the same time, cumming in the darkness as he watched you, leaving his cum on the flowers that you planted along the walls of your house.

He hated to admit to himself but he was jerking off to you almost every right, smelling your jacket like a sick man. I am sick he admitted.

So many days and nights he was grabbing onto his bed sheets, pressed up against his shower wall or even in his chair by the big screen, he was cumming for you, with you in mind, he missed you. But he missed your pussy more. Today, he was determined to get it. He approached you as you drank a coffee, typing on your laptop.

“Hello ma’am” he bowed “would you like to hear about your lord and savior Jesus Christ?”

“No, not right n-“ you stopped. “What’re you doing here, In Ho? It’s been 5 years, do you think what I said changed?” You say coldly.

“I know it hasn’t.” He sat before you can continue speaking. “I miss you (y/n). I mean, really fucking miss you. It’s been a lonely 5 years, I miss your smell, your touch, your hair. I miss the way you talk and your smile. I just miss you”

“You know, for a very intelligent man, you’re acting and sounding really fucking stupid.” You scoff rolling your eyes at him. “I mean, you miss me. So what? I miss Young il, but I’m never getting him back, am I?”

“But I’m right here?”

“No… you aren’t young il… I don’t know you”

“And what, you think I lied?!” You nodded. “About what? Huh? What would I possibly lie to you about?”

“Everything, that whole relationship we developed, that sex we had, that love.” You say. “As far as I’m concerned, Young il was an angel and you don’t even exist.”

“But my wallet does?”

“Honestly, you can have your card back.” You shake your head. “I don’t need dirty money”

“It’s clean. It comes from the stocks i invest in. Really (y/n), do you honestly think I’d give you game money?” He looks at you intensely. He wanted to tell you how attracted to you he still was. How his cock still aches for you. How he just wishes to fuck you. It was sitting across from you that he realized he was going to fuck you… whether you liked it or not.

“What do you want?” You sighed finally.

“One date with you. Please.” He stated. He knew deep in his heart that you still wanted him, you yearned for him. He needed you.

“No” you say and stand up.

“Look, one date, to show you who I really am as a person.” He argued. “Who I am outside of those damned games that ruined us. If after that you still decide you hate me, that’ll be all. You can live your life and I can live mine knowing at least I tried to make it better” he pleaded. His eyes pulling at your heart strings as they once did. You saw Young il for a brief moment, before seeing In Ho. You saw the man that was so sweet and gentle.

“Fine. One.” you conceded. You traded numbers and you left. Not knowing that In Ho could now tap your phone, could ruin your whole life. But truly the only thing he wanted to ruin was you.

You made it to your little cottage. It stood on the edge of the city with a small village of cottage farmers surrounding it. Fluffy baby cows and little lambs screamed at you from your neighbors house. Horses neighbors and goats cried. Your life was perfect, this place was perfect. Young il would have loved it… In Ho obviously prefers different style of life. Black and gold, power, money.

“Hi (c/n)” you say as he purred at you. He looped around you as you walked further into your house. You placed your items on your kitchen table. It was already 6. You cooked some dinner and watched an American drama you found on Netflix. Laughing along with the characters.

In Ho made it to his own home. The black and gold now insulted his eyes, it had ever since he saw the disgust on your face while you spoke angry and heartbroken. He sat at his computer, plugging in his phone. He stayed up for hours, deep into the night, hacking into your phone.

“Photos” he said aloud as he clicked it. He found a treasure trove of pictures. You with some friends, with family, birthdays, dinners, then he found your private photos.

“Let’s see (y/n), what do you do all alone” he whispered opening it. Pictures and videos of yourself floated into view, things other men should never see. Disgusting men like him should never see. He quickly searched through your sent and deleted messages, as far back as he could go, they’d never been sent. He returned back to the photos and stared at each on individually, videos playing, hardening his cock.

In Ho began to touch himself as he watched, his hand moving in sync with yours on the screen. He felt like he was participating in your intimate moment, like an invisible partner who you couldn't see or feel but was there nonetheless. He couldn’t help but freely moan into the emptiness of his room.

As the video played on, In Ho's movements became faster and more urgent. He could feel himself getting closer to climax, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt like a teenager again, watching porn, anxious that his parents may walk in. The thought that these were moments meant for no one else's eyes but yours made it even more exhilarating for him.

“I’m gonna cum” you said on camera. To him. “Oh my god, I’m gonna fucking cum” In Ho was getting sent into overdrive heavy sighs coursing through his lungs. “Oh god, Young il, I’m gonna cum on your fingers” he lost it. You were pleasuring to the thought of him, maybe his over persona, but still him nonetheless.

With one final stroke from you on screen and a simultaneous motion from In Ho's own hand came the peak of pleasure for him followed closely by release. His orgasm washed over him so strongly it left him gasping loudly within seconds all over both his keyboard and along edges near the monitor until reaching very tip top edge finally. He was panting, falling backwards, sinking deep into his chair. Cum heavily covered his desk space, now stained forevermore, a mess entirely due to a solely singular sickening act alone performed freely without fear. Through his sinful act.

If you knew would you forgive him?

[mononijikayu]

toxic till the end — fushiguro toji.

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

GENRE: alternate universe - actor/s au!;

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

WORD COUNT: 15k words

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

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No…no, thank you for telling me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Babe—”

“How long?”

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

"A few months." You repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Babe…..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

══════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could do this, you told yourself.

You could survive this, you know you could.

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

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

And all that resolve dissolved almost instantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we not talk about it—”

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

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

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

Silence grew once more between the two of you. 

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes harshly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

══════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

══════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Couldn’t you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are we going to rehearse—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you knew you were both lying to yourselves. 

He was going to come back again and again.

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

══════════════════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so you stayed.

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

For better or for worse.

For the horrid to the frigid.

You both were toxic till the end.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The words hung between you both, unresolved. 

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

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

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

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

[starrygazers]

cross my heart (hope to die)

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ haiii :3 I only write like once a year but that won't stop me from yearning for these new characters. I love Amphoreus because I was a Greek myth nerd growing up and this new update tickles me in aaaall the right ways.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : angst, established relationship, mentions of character death

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : Mydei; minor spoilers for 3.0

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mydeimos, the Crown Prince, has no fears. He tossed away his humanity when he embraced immortality, the tool that he needed to trek on this god-slaying journey. There was no room for fear, not when he had to fight the Titan of Violence. A man such as this was not capable of human emotions; or so he thought.

"So," you hum in a sing-song tone, draping your arms around Mydei's shoulders. "When will you take me to that new restaurant in Marmoreal Market?"

Mydei huffs, but makes no effort to peel your touch off of him. He turns around to meet your eyes; you're so close to him. If it were any other person, they would have faced the wrath of the Undying Lion.

You detect no change in his expression, so you start pouting. "Mydei! You promised me you would."

Mydei shrugs. "Did I?"

You roll your eyes, finally letting go of him and sitting on the empty spot next to him. "Dying doesn't exempt you from the promises you make, you know?"

The Prince can't help but crack a smile at this; you're the only person that he can comfortably joke about his immortality with. With you, it doesn't seem like the big deal everyone makes it out to be. Not the heroic Chrysos Heir trait that Phainon envies him for, or the source of worry for Aglaea and Tribbie. It's just another part of him that you've accepted.

Because you accept all of him.

You cross your arms and look away from him, mumbling about how the restaurant's been open for a month and it's not new anymore so there won't be as many people and why do you always have to go on such long expeditions, but Mydei shushes you by taking a strand of your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

A whisper of apology.

"It's okay," you mumble, extending your pinky. "Just promise again, for this life."

"I'll make a thousand promises if that's what you want," he says, and it comes out rough, like he's doing it to get you off his back. But you know better, you know him better.

He raises his own pinky finger to entwine it with yours. "How does the saying go again?"

"You're so forgetful," you laugh, and it's the most melodious tune he knows.

"Cross my heart..."

Mydeimos knows that he must suffer a thousand deaths, and a thousand more. He's content with this destiny, because he knows he is not given the privilege to choose. He must lay down his god for the glory of what little humanity he has left within him. He will trade a thousand lives for peace, and he will enter a losing battle with only his faith in the infinite lives that he has.

Perhaps this is what made him forget how flimsy a life really is.

In his usual boredom, Phainon once riddled him. "How heavy do you think the world really is? Like, a thousand Dromas?"

Mydei's response, in typical fashion, was to huff and call Phainon's musings irrelevant. But now, he thinks he can answer that question.

The world is really light in his arms. The world is pale, cold, and losing a lot of blood.

"I'm sorry. Don't hate me," you manage to say before your last breath. Your voice is hoarse, but Mydei would beg Oronyx to loop it forever because he still thinks your voice is his lullaby.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He promised to take you to that restaurant, and many more. He vowed to bring peace to this world to one day crown you as his queen.

Mydeimos knows that he must suffer a thousand deaths, and a thousand more. But this was worse than death. For you, he would trade it all; his status as Crown Prince, his pride as the Undying Lion, his immortality.

A thousand life for yours.

"... and hope to die."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

yaaya it seems I can only write angst lol

©2025 starrygazers. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

[fagottkatie]

Now this is so cool and could only be found on not a whole lot of sites right. Where are we in lgbt making headways. I hope and pray we all are. It’s pathetic ly fkn retarded and fkd up we aren’t in a whole lot of places. Around my Nico of the woods well now let’s bring in a small town just moved out of Philly which I did love it there and get back there hmm, twice a month. But no gurls really out any more even there with the exception of the night clubs in center city the gayborhood in center city. Lots of gay guys no gurls hanging out at nights at spots they use too. Dam honestly it was great back let’s see 30 or more years ago fkn hottie Tgirls all over which corner were they hookin. I loved spending time with the bookers on the corner. Never ever hooked but loved their style their appearance so sexy hot always the short lil mini sexy legs nice and silky. Smoke some weed and when someone broke out the powder I was like oh man look at this. Fkn besutiful. Because when you hit that powder the sex drive is like intensified ten fold. Never ever hooked on it never bought it back then but when the gurls turned me on I was like fkn thank you lady Jane’s. They were all so fun best of times and mud town the absolute best of the sexy best. Tgirls everywhere. Philly and Mid Town and everyone loved us them in the cities. Than after a day and night or the whole weekend it was back to the small town USA where Tgirls on my home town were referred to as human disgraces. Mthr fkrs. That there is mother fkrs man. All fkd up in small town for gurls. Bummer. Like a trans parade in small town I’S NOT Happening. Or trans pride in small town people fkn really hate trans and gay dudes too they fkn mock but trans dam like we did a mthr fkn thing wrong for society to look at us like that. One thing for certain when I moved out of that white fkn hick town, I certainly laid into them all and I mean yo let’s fkn go with all the trans induendos when I’m around you fkn cunt every mthr fkn one of them. And when they brought the subject up I was like in the face protecting trans interests and not even having one trans gurl friend. That really sucks man. Not even a sexual relationship. Dam cool dinner hang out smoke some weed go shopping dressed all hot and sexy. I’m in small town now and out dressed when shopping or little things but only little ole me and the big bad wolves. Who would get dropped in a moment someone says a dam thing. I am fed up with the hate. And lol I am bad ass not to be fkd with. I am the coolest person ever and fk with no one but date a mother fkn white hick in small town insults. I will slice and dice his lil special ego down to fkn dirt and keep it up til hopefully he throws the fist lol , they never would. And o am talking serious insults back to the mthr fkrs in my home town when I was leaving. This bubba mthr fkr really bad I laid the fk into that fkn hate bastard fkn 6’3 this fkn weasel and big and the fkn rat beard insulting him fkn my spit hitting the cunts face but like a mthr fkn white piece of trash he fkn cowered. He loved calling trans human disgraces. Mthr fkn grit ball bastard. Fk em all gurls learn to fight it is best for you. Especially these days. So find that tough on our lil fem beings because it’s there we all have it weather big or petite fight it’s good for you because no one on your side in small town when you come out. So anyway. This pic this lil symbol of us into get one and hang it on my window facing our gurls. Because im gonna die in small town unless i move back to north Philly i fkn loved so much. All black communities and they are the coolest people. You will not find smy hating on trans. Honest to God. And I don’t even consider myself fkn white any more I say my grandparents came from Sicily I am not white I’m Sicilian. Because whitey in tgg he see neck of the woods fkn racist bastards too using the fkn n word don’t say t hat near me ass hole. And no joke. What the fk would I get out of lying or misrepresenting in anyway. Yo this is the real deal Reality world away from www. I luv u

remember: you are loved 💗

[flwrkid14]

So is I alright if I ask this?

I've seen the post where everyone wants to be Tim's favorite, might I ask if you could combine it with the 'Tim will never be anyone's favorite' and the brain dead post spin off? I think it'd be super angst angsty if the bats realize tehy unitentionally screwed up with Tim.

Oh, this is such a good ask! and now I’m going to be feral about it, thank you. Combining all of those ideas? Buckle up because this is going to get angsty.

—

Tim Drake will never be anyone’s favorite.

He’s always known it, accepted it as fact, because it’s not just about how he’s never felt like anyone’s favorite—it’s about how he’s been conditioned to believe that no one could favor him. He spent so much of his life trying to make himself useful to the people around him, because if he couldn’t be loved, he could at least be needed. If they needed him, they’d have to keep him around, right?

So that’s what Tim became. The utility knife of the Batfamily. The glue, the fixer, the one who knew how to put everything back together even if no one ever thought to ask how he was holding up.

And if that meant sacrificing pieces of himself, so what? He was never anyone’s favorite. He had no illusion that anyone would fight for him, that he’d be prioritized. The mission came first. Gotham came first. Family was a distant second, if it ranked at all.

Then there’s Danny.

Danny doesn’t come in with the expectations or baggage the rest of the Bats have. Danny doesn’t know Tim as a placeholder Robin or a second chance or a stolen birthright. He knows Tim as Tim—sharp, exhausted, himself. And Danny thinks that’s amazing.

He says it, too, without hesitation. “You’re my favorite,” he says like it’s a fact. Like Tim has always been the first name on someone’s list.

And it’s such a foreign concept to Tim that his first reaction is suspicion. He doesn’t trust it—can’t trust it—because when has anyone ever favored him? Even when Danny shows time and again that he’s not going anywhere, that his affection for Tim is unconditional, Tim’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Danny to grow tired of him, to leave, to regret his words.

But Danny doesn’t. He stays.

And that’s where it all starts to unravel for the rest of the family.

They see it—the way Danny looks at Tim like he’s the most important person in the room. The way Tim slowly starts to relax around him, shedding the defensive, brittle edges he’s always carried with them. The way Danny makes it obvious—painfully obvious—that Tim is his favorite person.

It's then that it hits them.

None of them have ever made Tim feel that way.

They start noticing the cracks they’ve left in him, the ones they never saw because they were too busy leaning on Tim to hold them together. They think back to all the times Tim had been the one to put in the effort to maintain their relationships, the way he always came through for them when they needed him, but how little they ever did for him in return.

They see the way he hesitates when Danny shows him affection—how it catches Tim off guard every time, like he’s still waiting for it to be a trap. And the Bats realize they’ve conditioned Tim to expect exactly that.

It guts them.

Cass had always known, in the quiet way she read people, that Tim didn’t feel like he belonged. She saw it in the way he held himself—guarded, distant, bracing for rejection. She’d tried, in her small, subtle ways, to show him he mattered, but watching Danny with him now, she realized she hadn’t done enough, that there was so much more she could have done for him not to feel that way. She hadn’t known how deep the hurt ran, and the guilt settled heavy in her chest.

Danny... Danny treated him differently.

Dick, who always tried to be a good brother but never saw the way Tim’s shoulders tensed under the weight of being “good enough.” Jason, who hated him for wearing the Robin colors but never noticed how much Tim blamed himself for taking them in the first place. Bruce, who thought giving Tim responsibility was enough to show he cared, but never thought to give him unconditional support. Damian, who fought Tim at every turn but never realized how much Tim already hated himself for existing in a role Damian felt should have been his.

Even Steph, and Duke—all of them thought Tim was fine because Tim made himself fine. Because Tim was the one who fixed things, and none of them stopped to ask what he needed.

It becomes almost unbearable for them to watch Danny care for Tim, because Danny makes it look so easy. He loves Tim so openly, so obviously, that it highlights every way the family failed to do the same.

And Tim? Tim doesn’t even seem to know he deserves it.

It’s the wake-up call they all desperately needed but never wanted. They don’t know how to fix it. But watching Danny and Tim together, seeing the way Tim is finally beginning to believe he’s worthy of being loved, they know one thing for certain:

They can’t undo the past.

But maybe, if they try hard enough, they can make sure Tim never feels that way again.

[oh-phoenixx]

"Baby" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 396 words

-

Pet names, in Regulus’s opinion, were gross. Every time he heard his brother’s boyfriend call him ‘sweetheart’, he wanted to vomit. He had to leave the room whenever Evan and Barty were flirting because they did nothing but use disgusting pet names. 

James, on the other hand, loved pet names. He would call Regulus every pet name under the sun, not minding that Regulus only called him ‘James’ or ‘Jamie’ in return. Coming from anyone else, Regulus would have hated this. He would have been put off the entire relationship, really. 

“Morning, love,” James greets with a grin, kissing Regulus’s head and then sitting down next to him. 

It only takes two seconds for Barty to clock this and burst out laughing. “Sorry, did he just call you ‘love’?”

“Yes? What about it?” Regulus responded through gritted teeth and a glare. 

“Nothing, nothing, Mr. Pet-names-are-gross-and-I’ll-never-let-anyone-use-them-for-me,” Barty laughed.

James turned to Regulus, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip jutting out. “You don’t like it when I call you ‘love’?”

“I-” Regulus looked between James and Barty, trying to decide if reassuring James was worth his humiliation. “It’s fine when it’s you,” he mumbled, hoping Barty couldn’t hear. 

James’s pout turned into a huge grin. He kissed Regulus’s jaw and nuzzled into his neck. And, yes, Regulus believed it was worth reassuring James, even though Barty was most definitely going to mock him for this later. 

Despite being okay with James calling him silly names (‘okay with’ is an understatement, to be honest), Regulus refused to do the same. He was Regulus Black, for Merlin’s sake. James was a perfectly acceptable name, and it was pushing it for Regulus to even call him ‘Jamie’. This is why it was a shock to both of them when, one morning:

“Baby, come back to bed,” Regulus whined tiredly.

James’s brain seemed to short-circuit for a moment, spinning around rapidly to look at Regulus. 

Regulus hid his face in the pillow, repeating, “I didn’t say that, I didn’t say that, I didn’t say that.”

James just tilted Regulus’s face towards his and kissed him, smiling so widely you’d think he’d won the Quidditch cup. This was worth the humiliation, too, Regulus thought, seeing James this happy.

If Regulus let the term slip out every now and then, most especially when he needed something or when James was angry, that could stay between them.

[christinescupofcoffee]

old Cartoon Network cartoons, way back in the early 2000s

the quaint world of Steve Coogan (Night at the Museum, Alan Partridge, Around the World in 80 Days)

Alex and Christine (Seasons Grey). She is me, I am her, and I wrote the first chapters of Seasons Grey during a snowstorm so it gives me this cozy feeling thinking about it. 😉

Lizzy Graves and Pete Steele (Like Loving the Dead). Toxic rebound relationship where she was cold and it demonstrates the cycle of abuse across relationships, which is a dynamic i feel works in Wuthering Heights but it’s sloppily done here because it’s portrayed as romantic. Author also has unnecessary resentment towards me.

Joey Belladonna and Lars Ulrich (now it’s dark). Humble Native American country boy with cool hip Danish guy à la Men in Black. now it’s dark was my last adventure before the pandemic. Any questions?

Alex got hit in the head as a young boy which gave his silver streak which is magic. He’s also hiding fangs behind his crooked teeth. 🩸

Pretty much any sexual headcanon about James Hetfield. idk, they just gross me out.

Testament/Alex Skolnick trio/Dragonlord/Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Exodus, Death Angel, Death, any lesser-known grunge like from Mother Love Bone downwards (although the big four tags are weirdly quiet on ao3), Queens of the Stone Age, the Tragically Hip, 90s and 2000s alt rock, Alan Partridge/anything Steve touches, Mike Cutter/anything Linus touches, American Girls, Strawberry Shortcake; I’m also the kind of person who goes onto classic rock pages and looks for bands and people you don’t really hear much about like The Clash, Jethro Tull, the Cars, Thin Lizzy, Robert Palmer, Syd Barrett, any old blues singers… I like wandering over to the theater pages and the ones revolved around books you don’t hear about like Turn of the Screw on ao3.

either Metallica, Green Day, Sherlock, Doctor Who, or Formula One—the latter’s a funny case, though. I watched it religiously from 2005-2012, with 2007 and 2009 being my favorite seasons. Quit watching before 2013 started because everyone I liked had either been fired or put in a bad spot, and then after Jules died, I started watching again, and 2016 gave me all the 2009 memories. I hate how Americanized, how loud, how “all frosting with no cake underneath” it is now, and I’m not alone in this, either: I can’t remember anyone’s names after the 2016 season, the season is obscenely long now (when I was watching, it went from March to Halloween; now, it’s like the same length as a season of NASCAR), and I think it was Jenson Button who recently wrote about suffering from anorexia and had no one to talk to about it?

Probably Soundgarden.

I made a shirt with my Soundgarden cartoons ironed on it. For my 14th(?) birthday, my mom made me a Ferrari cake, and then for my 15th birthday, I got a BMW cake (Kimi Räikkönen, Nick Heidfeld, and Robert Kubiča are/were MY GUYS, man). For my 16th, I got rice krispy Easter Island heads in a fondant airplane (for Stone Temple Pilots).

(really, how much time you got).

the grunge fandom

the grunge fandom

Supernatural. I LOVE Doctor Who, and I love Sherlock, but I always got lost on that one so I could never join “Superwholock.” I have never fit in with the thrash fandoms, either: I’m like the Radiohead of the thrash fandom.

Around the World in 80 Days, only because I think Steve is cute.

thelittlefatrat, who was this kickass artist on here who disappeared back in 2018. Has these incredible drawings of people like Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, Robert Plant, the guys from Guns ‘N Roses, Chris, Kurt, Scott, Layne, Eddie, and Chester, but also bunnies, snakes, and cats.

With Strings Attached, a Beatles fanfic dating back to 1980 and was completed in 2009. It’s a fantasy story full of heart and humor and has ostensibly influenced everything I’ve ever done that’s long and fantastical. I also love Love in Exile, a Jerry Cantrell/Stone Gossard fic. I love fool’s gold by Cazio: don’t know anyone on the f1 grid anymore but huge influence on Like Blood from a Stone and (vaguely) Throughout the Dark Months of April and May. I love Audere est Facere by Natelly (I think that’s how she spells her name?), which is about the origin of Ahkmenrah’s gold tablet: huge influence on All That Glitters. With Strings Attached, you can Google no problem; the author took down Love in Exile wanting to rework it to an original story. Sigh.

A fic on here called There’s a Light. It’s mainly about Pearl Jam but it’s got the whole grunge scene involved. 10 years later, it’s still with me.

Can I say myself? There have been authors I love, authors who have inspired me so many times over, but I write the stories I love and think about regularly.

*looks around* kink tags. I hate to admit it and talk about it but there’s a reason why I go back to kink stories and kinktober.

kink tags. Sometimes I feel like my hard limits are too hard and I’m a major freak (and not in a good way). I also hate reader inserts because they just never look right to me.

7, i think? My friends and I liked to roleplay and tell stories about cartoon and book characters.

the time I made inktober drawings for when now it’s dark was going, and I posted them on instagram… and I was completely oblivious to the fact Joey was watching me. He would talk about me on Jamey Jasta’s podcast—and the week before my birthday, too! There was the time Testament took an after-show picture together and some guy in the comments made a remark about Alex having a potbelly, and I blurted out, “I want to blow raspberries on it.” About a week later, they were doing a v.i.p. shoot and Alex was covering up his belly with his arms and getting all kinds of giggly. I can’t stop thinking about it, tbh.

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[sunlight-and-tea]

Xaden hating on Dain during his POV of chapter sixteen will never not be my favorite.

“…Aetos asks Sorrengail, panicking like the infantry soldier he should have been”

“Aetos takes his hands off Sorrengail’s shoulders, and I decide to let him keep them. For now.”

“Gods, please give me a reason to beat the pompous, Codex-loving shit out of him. Just once.”

“Odd time to grow a spine, but good for him.”

“I scoff. Fucking rule-loving coward. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Violence. She’s half his size and a thousand times braver. Talk about a disproportionate relationship.”

“Aetos scurries away like the little rat he is.”

Xaden also calls Violet a “pint-size morsel of straight-up arsenic” during this chapter and I love that

[ttjisung]

BABY l. jeno

camboy!lee jeno x fem!reader

in which jeno finds it easier to destress himself on stream, that is until you catch him

cw: MDNI! smut, unprotected sex, cumming inside, fingering, squirting, another haechan feature cause i want him lowkey, generally inappropriate things lol idk how else to describe it! this wasn't proof read so beware of spelling mistakes (wc: 3k)

If you were to be asked, you’d confidently describe your relationship with Lee Jeno as trustworthy – loyal, even. Yet the truth was that Jeno had a secret he had been keeping for years now, one so outlandish it sounds straight out of a girl’s wet dream. It wasn’t that he thought you’d judge him, he just worried you’d ask him the origins of his secret, and he’d have to explain that it became his channel to take out some stress because of you.

Jeno’s secret was simple and straightforward – for the past year or two, he’d hide out at his apartment every weekend alone, turning on his web-camera and becoming a new identity. He hated calling himself a camboy, seeing it as an impeachment on his own self. Camboy felt too official, he was just a horny young adult looking for a way to let it out. That being said, what complicated the situation was that you were the cause of his need to do so. All of the times you’d compliment him after he’d send a workout selfie, so oblivious to the gym roleplay he’d act out later on, wishing his hand was you in tight shorts and a sports bra. Even something so innocent as saying his hair was cute had him thrusting into his palm and pulling on his own hair in the late hours, acting like it was you in front of him, instead of the hundreds of nameless accounts that would flood his chat. 

Jeno swore he’d get away with his little double-life, knowing you’d be caught in a grave before HotLonelyStuds. That’s why his own world came crashing down on himself during a hangout, when Lee Haechan approached him privately, an evil grin on his obnoxious face. “I have a confession.” The way he stated it seemed genuine, yet the way his eyes glinted towards the older male let him know his intentions were anything but. 

“Go ahead.” “Head? I’m sure that’s what you want, Dr. Lee.” Jeno’s heart dropped at the implication behind the sentence, way too specific to pass as a normal sexual innuendo. It was only when Haechan opened his phone up to his Twitter likes, already flooded with several homemade pornos, pointing out the most recent. Jeno wasn’t even aware that people were reuploading his clips – he swore it was a privacy breach, not allowed on the website he used. He recognized the specific stream, a night where he felt particularly needy. You had told him about a physical you received at your latest doctors’ appointment, and his fantasies ran wild. Admittedly, it wasn’t normal to feel so horny because of something so simple, yet as soon as he imagined himself on top of you, stripping you slowly on a patient’s bed, there was no going back. Albeit weird, he swore there was nothing special about the clip until Haechan clicked on it, of course he did. 

“Fuck… Need you so bad, baby. Let Dr. Lee take care of you.” Jeno’s voice was hoarse, ringing from above as his camera panned down to his cock that was already out of his white dress pants and leaking in his hand. He flicked his wrist gently, agonizingly slow, taking his time and imagining it was your small, delicate hand instead. In his daze, his thumb unconsciously ran over his tip, forcing a gasp out of his throat, alongside an uncontrolled small whisper of your name. The whisper was so light, it could easily be played off as an incoherent moan to anyone else, yet Haechan (who swore up and down that Jeno was in love with you) begged to differ.

“Why did you even watch all of it to find that out, perv.” Jeno’s first response was defense, trying to play it off and even pass the shame onto Haechan. What he should’ve taken into account was that if there was one word to describe the male, it’d be shameless. “Eh, ‘was bored. What matters here is you, Dr. Lee, and your infatuation with a little someone-” 

“Who?” You spoke up behind the two, frowning at the way Haechan jumped up and immediately turned his phone off. “Hey, I wanna see.” You whined, saddened at the fact that you were out of the loop. “It was porn.” Haechan was quick to yell out, patting Jeno on the back and rushing back into the living room. 

“Were you actually watching that stuff, Jen? I don’t care but like… You told me you don’t.” The disdain in your voice assured Jeno about one thing – you could never know the truth. Not only would it freak you out, he felt as though you’d be offended that he’s been lying to you about how truly sexual he is. Being the only two of your friend group that didn’t continuously sleep around, you felt even more connected with him when he’d back you up, telling you it’s normal to be reserved at your age; making you think he relates, when the truth was that as soon as you’d go home and his lights would turn off, his camera would turn on. 

“No, of course not baby. He was just being weird.” The way the familiar nickname rolled out of his mouth smoothly assured you, and you simply nodded with a small grin. “What were you up to before Hyuck flashed you?” You giggled at your own word choice, moving away from Jeno to open the fridge. “Not much, ‘was honestly waiting for you to realize I was gone and look for me.” For some reason, an unusual feeling of unease washed over him at your reaction to his words. You took it lightly, like you take everything. No matter how shamelessly he’d flirt with you, you’d always just smile and look away until the conversation would stray elsewhere. He was sick of acting like it didn’t affect him to see you dismiss him so easily, yet he supposed it was partly his fault, as he never clarified that he meant what he said – you probably just assumed he didn’t. 

“Wanna escape to my place? I’m honestly a bit bored.” Jeno wasn’t bored, he just wanted you all to himself, truthfully. “Sorry, Jen. I have a paper due tomorrow and I’m only halfway done. I was about to head out. Maybe another time?” He simply nodded, masking his disappointment with a shaky breath. Embarrassed from your reoccuring denial, he decided he’d go home anyway.  He had a new idea for a stream anyway, one that projected your relationship as loudly as the rest. It never hurts to do an extra video or two, knowing the pocket change he’d make could serve to take you out for a pastry. 

Tonight, the roles were reversed on HotLonelyStuds, as Jeno’s hand stroked himself quickly, moaning at the sensation. “Take it, fuck. Take it all. Rejecting me when you know you want me? Could’ve been us right now, baby.” His words were muffled, his teeth gritting in an unnaturally stressed way as his other hand reached his throat, pressing harshly. This stream was particularly rough, and although he’d refuse, Jeno knew the true reasoning behind his labored actions. He knew the truth was that he was sick of you ignoring him, when he was always there. Every time you’d complain about your lack of experience, every time you’d cry to him about feeling immature, he wanted to scream in your face that he’s right here! He always has been right there, pliant and willing to help you overcome your inexperience. 

The frustration built more and more, and before Jeno knew it he had come twice, painting his already covered abs white. On his third, he was too immersed to notice the familiar jingle of your spare key – the one he had given you as soon as he moved into his new apartment, letting you know you were welcome any time. 

Clearly, that might’ve not been the case as a loud gasp escaped you. Not bothering to knock on Jeno’s bedroom door, not even having heard his loud groans, you were welcomed with the sight of his heavy dick in his hands, upper body completely bare. Jeno’s eyes were held shut with pleasure until he recognized a stream of light on him that hadn’t been there before, the buzz of his hallway lamp amplifying the already-deafening silence that the two of you shared as you finally made eye contact. In shock, Jeno couldn’t bring himself to cover up. It wasn’t until you shrieked and ran out of the room that he pulled his pants back up, shutting the stream off with no explanation and running after you.

“Baby… I swear it’s not what you think-” “I know what I saw, Jen…” Your frown was making him panic, and he felt tears brimming in his eyes at your words. He was so fucked. “I just… Why didn’t you tell me? You know I don’t care-” “That’s the problem!” Sick of ignoring the obvious, he moved next to you, holding both your wrists in desperation. “You never care. Fuck, you don’t even care right now that you saw my dick out. Even less, that it was because of you.” His words sparked confusion in you, understanding what he was saying but refusing to believe what he insinuated. Surely, Lee Jeno hadn’t been fucking himself in front of a camera because of you. How would that even work?

“I don’t even care anymore, either, Y/n. Don’t care that you caught me, because maybe at least for those three seconds that you saw me, you might’ve had a small part of you in your head saying it’s hot.” “I don’t get it, Jen.” “Yes, you do.”

It wasn’t until you felt Jeno’s breath on your face that you realized how close he had truly gotten, and it was only when he grabbed your wrists that you realized, maybe it doesn’t feel so bad to be held by him like that.

Against your better judgement, your next action was brash as you cupped his face, pulling him in towards yours. The kiss was messy, Jeno’s teeth biting your lips until they began to feel sore. His arm snaked behind your back, lessening the space between you until there was nothing. “Gonna show you what I’ve been doing, baby. All for you.” “W-wait, Jen.” Before he could even push you onto the couch behind you, you pulled away. With every step you took, Jeno’s heart broke more, and his anger grew. Who were you to kiss him, and then reject him not even a minute later? 

In his fury, Jeno failed to realize what you were truly doing until your hand found his and you led him back to his room. His mind became foggy once he saw you approach his computer, searching for something. “Where is it, Jen?” “Where’s what, baby?” “The camera.” At your words, his eyes widened. There was no way you were really doing what he thought you were doing. There was no way you were going to let him fuck you in front of his viewers. 

Feeling as though the opportunity would pass at any second, Jeno jumped up quickly, gently pushing you aside to open the website and program the webcam to turn on. Soon after, the red flickering light on his computer confirmed the fact that it was on, and his hands were back on you, sliding down towards the back of your thighs and pulling you onto him. 

The kiss grew heavy once more, Jeno so focused that he didn’t even give context to his viewers who had never seen him with another girl before. Had he read the chat though, he’d be pleasantly surprised to see the positive feedback. Maybe he would’ve even seen Haechan’s texts that were flooding his phone. WTF? I TOLD YOU, YOU WHORE, that quickly progressed into encouragement, fuckk dude, lift her shirt up a bit, always wanted to see her pretty tits.

Unknowingly, Jeno fed into Haechan’s perversions as he also grew tired of the fabric holding you back from him. His big hands held onto your waist before lifting you up and turning you around, so you’d be sitting on his lap facing towards the camera instead of him. The light whimpers you’d let out at his every move gained traction from the chat, who were now spamming comments asking Jeno to fuck the shit out of you. Well, who was he to deny his fans?

You felt Jeno’s lips attach to your neck, as well as his long fingers slipping under your shirt, cupping your bare tits. He hated the fact that you never wore a bra near him, leaving little to his imagination when he wasn’t allowed to touch you. A shit-eating grin replaced his focused expression as he heard your breath hitch when he finally pinched your nipple, stopping for a second to effortlessly rip your shirt off over your head. Now exposed and riddled with goosebumps, Jeno sucked harder, leaving blemishes and marks all over your shoulder. His hands tweaked each nipple, pulling harder to draw more reactions from you.

This time, instead of a gasp, you simply grinded down on him out of instinct, the feeling finally pulling a moan from Jeno’s own throat. His chest still bare from when you had walked in on him earlier, pressed against your back as he held you close, pulling your little shorts off alongside your panties in one swift move. 

You were embarrassingly wet, hating yet loving the way Jeno stared at you through the screen of his own computer. He watched you with hunger in his eyes, as if he was going to devour you, and the worst part is that you began to like the idea. 

Your eyes shut close as you felt his fingers run down your slit, wetting them before he bullied two into you at once. You winced from the pain, not having time to recover before Jeno was thrusting in and out of you. His frustrations escaping him in the form of passion as his other hand planted gentle circles to your clit. Your cunt began to clench around him, a pit in your stomach forming as you let out moan after moan. It was only when he added another finger that you squirmed, the pit fully dropping. The shock on Jeno’s face was evident as a clear liquid covered both you and him once you came. Never in his life would he have expected you to squirt. He didn’t let out though, continuing to thrust his fingers in you until you fully rode out your high, clawing at his hands from the overstimulation.

Although he stopped, the breath you were catching got stuck in your throat once you felt something much larger than his fingers prodding at your cunt. He was big – honestly not a shock to you, who always heard him brag to the rest of your friends before he swore celibacy in solidation with you. Nothing could prepare you for the feeling of his tip pulsing in you, or his strong arms wrapping around you to hold your inner thighs, spreading you out to the camera, full pussy on display.

Hearing your gasps, Jeno stopped to let you adjust, yet it didn’t last long as you clenched around him. Albeit slower than he wanted to, he entered inch by inch until his cock was fully enveloped by your heat. You felt so good, how he knew you would. 

“‘Gonna move now, baby. Hold on to me.” You nodded although your eyes were painfully squeezing close. Jeno couldn’t take the slow pace as he thrusted in and out gently, and you granted his wish as you looked up towards his direction. “Y-you can move, Jen.” His moan was loud as he finally bottomed out, not nearly in as much control over his actions as he was before.

As soon as your pained whimpers shifted to soft gasps, he finally sped up, holding onto your thighs with a bruising grip. His moans were muffled as he whined into your neck. You felt every ridge and vein on his cock, stuffed deep inside of your cunt. Looking at the computer’s display, you felt yourself clench even more at the sight. With a clear view of Jeno’s face, the way he bit his lip and shut his eyes, you felt closer than ever. Jeno was close behind, not being able to take the tight squeeze you had around him anymore.

His pace fastened, thrusting up into you, pistoling in and out with desperation. “So good, fuck baby. You’re squeezing me so tight, ‘wanted this as bad as me?” Your fucked out face was evident as you simply nodded your head, eyes rolling up into your head. With one more hard thrust, you came once more, followed quickly by him. The feeling of his spent shooting inside of you fogged your mind up, and you had to clamp a hand to your mouth to silence yourself. 

Regaining his breath, he lifted you until his dick was fully out of you, laying you comfortably aside before standing up and approaching his laptop. Waving with a successful grin on his face, he shut the computer off. Putting on the nearest boxers on his bed, his next destination was the bathroom, where he gathered a warm wet towel to clean you up. 

You weren’t asleep per se, when he came back, yet your refusal to open your eyes accompanied by your lack of speech told Jeno that you were too exhausted to function, so he let you lay down. In truth, he always dreamed of spoiling you, taking care of you after fucking you to sleep. The only indicator that you were still awake was the small squeeze you gave his hand when he laid behind you, swelling his heart with several emotions. The moment was perfect, one that would forever be remembered in his head as heaven, until he picked his phone up to check the time. 

Can’t believe she squirted… screen recorded all that by the way dude, never thought I’d be so turned on watching you both lol

Jeno didn’t think twice before blocking Haechan’s contact, putting his phone down and cuddling back into you.

a/n: haiii guys i just realized i haven't made anything about jeno yet and ugh i was watching the poison track video he looks so goodddd that look is what i had in mind while making this i hope you guys enjoy :3