#showed this to my mom and she said “post it for your tumblr people”

[sincerely-sofie]

[airenyah]

yesterday on the phone my mom told me that taemin's new thing had come out and i was like "yeah. i couldn't tell from all the posts @newyearknwwme was putting on my dash. i was close to blacklisting taemin."

my mother then gasped dramatically and said i could blacklist whatever kpop star i wanted but not taemin, just not taemin. i am forbidden from blacklisting taemin

[creamflix]

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 1/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [will be added over the course of the series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: hi friends !! wow, been a hot min since i wrote something of this caliber. feels good to be back in biz ;D did you all miss persephone! suguru? because there's a LOT of him here >_< i really wanted to publish this as a oneshot but....tumblr hates me so now it's gonna be a chaptered series! oh , joy! ps @nappingmoon i got u bae, this one is for you.

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

you never really set out to be the face of smut-lit. 

in fact, you weren’t even really a face at all — just a “faceless” author penning scandalous stories for fans who devoured them, and haters who, well… tried to eat you alive.

you’d started out innocently enough, scribbling down your little fantasies and tropes that no self-respecting romance book would touch. then one day, a friend dared you to post one on booktok. 

you thought, "fuck it" and uploaded a snippet of your latest brainchild: a steamy billionaire x star-crossed chef fic called hunger games: not that kind of hungerer. it was, admittedly, extra spicy. 

and oh, did the internet have thoughts.

soon, your comments section and dm’s became a battleground for all opinions on “what qualifies as literature.” gems included:

who even writes this crap? did a middle schooler steal her mom’s laptop? i can feel my brain cells self-destructing as i read this 💀 girl hasn’t even been within a mile radius of a dick and it SHOWS

you'd had to admit… the last comment was right. but hey, they only added to the fuel. 

like moths to a flame, they kept coming back, and the trolling just made your followers skyrocket. a lot of people secretly liked the outrageousness, the drama, and the absolute audacity of it all. before long, your books were trending, and you were raking in numbers (and dollars) most “serious” authors could only dream of.

soon, you found yourself the subject of headlines you never thought you’d see:

the faceless queen of spice: how one unknown author is reshaping romance. trolled online, loved in secret—author sells millions in ebook downloads. social media says she has no idea what she’s talking about, but her bank account says otherwise.

and the kicker?

you’d never had sex with anyone, let alone…well, rocked worlds like your characters. 

here you were, a smut writer with zero real-life experience, who’d single-handedly created booktok’s, bookstagram and hell, even the people down at twitter's guilty pleasure.

but the day big publishers started knocking on your door, it was surreal, to say the least. 

you’d been fully prepared for the anonymous online fame — hell, you’d leaned into it, posting “faceless author life” videos and doing question and answer sessions where you dropped zero identifying details, save for some vague hand gestures and blurred-out backgrounds. but now, major publishing houses wanted in on the action.

“we think your stories have broad market appeal,” one exec had said on a zoom call, trying to make “billionaire mafia love quadrangle” sound dignified. “if we could get them on shelves, we’d reach an audience beyond booktok. international appeal is the goal here!”

suddenly, your filthy, albeit occasionally cringey, tales were going global. they got translated into french (where your enemies-to-lovers series got a fancy new title: l’amour et la haine). your spicy chef saga was reborn in italian as sapore di te, which roughly translated to taste of you (and made you blush, honestly). 

and when your personal favorite, the billionaire’s forbidden touch, hit the japanese market, they titled it 禁断の夜 (which… you didn’t even want to know the translation of, because you knew it was even worse than the original).

you had to admit, though, seeing these books spread worldwide made your head spin. what started as a joke online was now somehow sitting next to classics in international bookstores, becoming a hot commodity for fans everywhere.

but the cherry on top? 

oh, that came when you opened an email from none other than gojo-sonic, the world-renowned audio company best known for its highly specialized audiobook recordings. they’d taken smut literature to the next level, hiring voice actors who sounded like they were in the room with you, all breathy whispers and seductive baritones. people had raved that these audiobooks were “too real” — like they’d been recorded in a closed room with dim lights and a whole lot of… commitment.

they offered you a multi-million dollar deal to turn your books into experiences.

one of your friends, absolutely losing it, texted you as soon as they heard the news:

homegirl [5:21 pm]: “OMG OMG so you’re gonna do it right?? u realize this means ppl will be hearing ur lil virgin brain’s fantasies out loud in their headphones right” you [5:21 pm]: “no kidding. i’m freaking out. this feels illegal.” homegirl [5:22 pm]: “but u gotta!! pls this is ICONIC.” you [5:24 pm]: “they’re giving me millions. you think i’m saying no? lmao.”

it still felt surreal that soon, the whole world would hear your books come to life with professional voice actors — ones who knew exactly how to tease and breathe and make listeners feel like they were right there.

“bring my fantasies to life, huh?” you muttered to yourself, flipping through the contract that would secure your financial future, all because of your fictional men and their, uh, moves. 

who the hell were you to say no to that?

it was surreal enough to get an email from gojo-sonic, but now, sitting across from the ceo himself, gojo satoru, you were starting to wonder if this whole experience was some fever dream.

the man was stunning in an obnoxious, immaculate way. snowy hair, piercing blue eyes, and sunglasses balanced on his head like a headband. and, okay, you had to admit: it was a little weird that he’d named his company after himself — though, frankly, it just fit.

you tried not to laugh when he introduced himself. gojo satoru, ceo of gojo-sonic. the narcissism was off the charts, but so was his charm. as a quick google search before the meeting had revealed, gojo sonic had an impeccable reputation, and there was apparently not a single scandal tied to its name.

“nice to meet you,” you said, shaking his hand and trying to keep your cool. “kinda surprised a guy is running a… company like this. no offense.”

“none taken!” he replied, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. “if i’m honest, i’m probably the last guy anyone would expect here. but,” he shrugged, “it works. my employees say i’m a ‘girl’s girl,’ whatever that means.”

the way he said it so nonchalantly made you smirk. apparently, the term wasn’t a throwaway nickname, either; the gojo-sonic gossip mill painted him as the absolute dream boss. rumor had it he’d given his whole office a free day off because his assistant had been dumped, and when a writer complained about unisex bathrooms making her uncomfortable, he’d personally had a “feminine touch” added to every single stall, complete with pink hand soap and luxurious lotions. he was kind, considerate, a man who just got it.

“people say i’m probably gay,” he added, laughing as if that was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “and you know what? let ‘em think what they want.” he gave you a wink. “as long as they keep buying the goods, i couldn’t care less.”

honestly? the guy made a point. did it matter who he was taking home at the end of the day? not at all, as long as your bank account kept racking up zeros.

“speaking of,” he continued, “we’ve got the full studio ready for tomorrow. you’ll meet the voice actors, go over a few sections, and give input as needed. think of it like a live theater production, except it’s your book.”

“oh, i get to… watch them record?” you asked, wondering how mortifying it might be to sit there, watching actors give their all to lines like, “you’re mine tonight, darling.” 

yeah, you’d written it, but watching someone breathe life into it was a different level of… embarrassment.

“even better,” gojo grinned, looking far too amused by your nervousness, “you’ll get to guide them. they’ll take direction from you — however you want the line delivered, that’s how they’ll say it.”

“you mean i can… like… make suggestions? on delivery?”

“exactly!” he said with a small clap. “we want it to be perfect. i’ve already arranged for our top voice actor, toji fushiguro, to voice your main character.”

toji fushiguro?

if gojo-sonic was the industry’s top company, toji was the crown jewel of voice acting. the guy was a legend. 

he had that smoky, velvet tone that could turn a mundane grocery list into a full-on romance scene. he was also notoriously elusive; some people waited months to get him to even consider their projects. and you — the virgin author who’d stumbled into fame thanks to trolls and booktok — had him voicing your main character?

“wait, toji fushiguro is doing this?” you asked, jaw practically on the floor.

gojo chuckled, looking far too pleased with your reaction. “yep! i think you two are going to work great together. he’s intense but flexible; really good at taking feedback.”

you tried to imagine giving feedback to toji fushiguro of all people. 

“um, maybe say ‘you’re mine’ with more… conviction?” 

“can you sound a bit more possessive on that line?”

“i, uh…” you managed, trying to swallow your nerves. “okay. yeah. sounds… good.”

“great! i think you’ll be amazed. toji’s professionalism is unmatched, and he’ll bring exactly the level of…” Gojo paused, grinning, “intensity you need to really make your character come to life.”

“good luck tomorrow! i’ll make sure everything’s set up perfectly,” gojo had assured you with a big grin as you left the office. “don’t stress about a thing. our identities are always kept top secret here. toji’s included! he’s never done a face reveal, and your privacy is just as ironclad.”

oh god. tomorrow, you were really going to sit there while toji fushiguro acted out lines you’d written on a whim in your pajamas.

sure, not stressing sounded like a logical plan. but after that surreal conversation — and the realization that tomorrow morning, you’d be face-to-face with the one and only toji fushiguro, hearing him breathe life into your raunchiest fantasies — you did what any responsible, mature adult would do.

you headed straight to the nearest bar and got sloshed.

by the time you were three cocktails deep, the reality of tomorrow’s “firsts” hit you like a ton of bricks. first real direction on an audiobook, first time meeting a voice actor, first time dealing with your own steaminess out loud, and — oh god — the cherry on top, it was toji fushiguro himself.

sure, you thought, sipping from your fourth drink and trying not to scream as lana del rey sings “it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you,” i might be slightly freaking out.

another cocktail slid your way. you squinted, unsure if you'd ordered it or if the bartender was just reading your general mood, because yeah, you did look like someone who needed another round.

“tough night?”

“tough tomorrow.” you swirled your drink, laughing to yourself. “i mean… you ever written a, uh, totally inappropriate novel and had to watch a famous guy turn it into audio?”

“…can’t say that i have.”

you shrugged, downing a bit more of the drink, when the song on the speakers switched to avril lavigne’s complicated. fitting, given that your life had just become exactly that.

“why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?” avril sang, like she knew.

the bartender, apparently used to the types who showed up for existential crises alone, leaned against the counter. “sounds like big stuff tomorrow, then. what kind of work do you do, anyway?”

“oh, just… smutty novels,” you said, letting it slip before you could stop yourself. “just… page after page of absolutely shameless, absurd filth. and now i’m, y’know, supposed to direct the guy. to make it sound like he’s really, um, in the moment.”

the bartender chuckled, raising a brow. “sounds intense.”

“you have no idea.” you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “he’s this insanely talented voice actor. i mean, they’ve got toji fushiguro in there, which is like… god. if he knew who i actually was, he’d probably laugh.”

why’d you have to go and make things so complicated? avril continued wailing, her words your accidental anthem.

“well, whatever happens,” the bartender said, passing you a glass of water with a grin, “sounds like you’re about to have a pretty interesting morning.”

“i’ll drink to that,” you muttered, clinking your cocktail glass against the water. you downed it, hoping that somehow, it might chase the nerves away.

and as everytime we touch, i get this feeling started blasting on the speakers, you couldn’t help but shake your head with a groan. if there was a playlist made for romantic embarrassment, it was definitely playing tonight.

in your half-sloshed state, it seemed like a good idea to turn to the stranger who’d just sauntered up to the bar — a ridiculously hot stranger, tall with dark hair, and a scar slashing right across his lip. it was the kind of look that would’ve inspired an entire chapter in one of your books, but as of right now? it was just inspiring some truly regrettable choices.

“goodness gracious, great balls of fire,” you muttered to yourself, just loud enough to catch his attention, which felt smooth, in your totally buzzed opinion. so, of course, you swung around on your stool, plastering on what you hoped was an alluring smile.

oh god, here we go. “hey there, handsome…” you paused, hiccuping “… you come here often?”

the stranger raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, leaning an elbow against the bar with a smirk that could kill. “depends,” he said, voice low and rough. “you, uh, always this friendly after a few drinks?”

oh god. 

oh god. 

but you couldn’t stop now. 

you were committed. 

you were bold. 

with all the poise of a drunk giraffe, you propped your elbow on the bar and leaned in closer, pointing a finger at his chest — totally unintentionally, because your depth perception was off by, oh, about a mile. “well, what can i say,” you replied, attempting a sultry grin. “good-lookin’ guys like you… don’t come around often enough, mister.”

“it’s like i’m drunk off your love,” played from the speakers, not helping your case at all. 

oh god, this was actually happening. 

he actually laughed, a warm, deep chuckle, as he watched you struggle through whatever pickup line was about to escape your lips.

he tilted his head, that smirk turning up a notch. “should i be flattered?”

“you should!” you exclaimed, with a bit too much enthusiasm. “you’re like… i dunno, like one of my… you look like a… a fictional character.” 

smooth, real smooth.

“oh yeah?” his smirk widened. “so, what am i, a prince?”

“more like…” you bit your lip, trying to focus, “an antihero with a… tragic past and just enough softness in his heart to make him dangerous in all the right ways.”

he looked you up and down, bemusement clear in his eyes. “dangerous in the right ways? is that your type?”

you gave a shaky wink, nearly missing because the world was swimming a bit. “maybe.”

he chuckled, his voice all rich and velvety, and leaned in closer. “so… you’re here alone? i mean, besides all the fictional men you’re envisioning.”

“for now,” you replied, trying to sound mysterious, but it just came out as a bit… wobbly.

the bartender set the stranger’s drink down with a raised eyebrow, and he took a sip, watching you with amused interest. “you know, maybe you should slow down before you scare all the good guys away.”

“oh, trust me,” you replied, hiccuping again. “i don’t scare easy.”

he shook his head, clearly entertained, and you felt yourself glowing under his gaze. you were about to continue — just as soon as the world stopped spinning — when you felt the slightest bit queasy, your stomach reminding you that you’d had one cocktail too many.

the stranger’s amused smirk softened. “you alright there?”

“i’m…” you swallowed. “perfectly fine. just, you know… making sure you’re… getting the full effect of my…” you barely managed the word “…rizz.”

he laughed outright this time, low and warm, like he genuinely couldn’t believe you were real. “is that so? lucky me.”

it was all going so well — okay, not well, but you were holding your own, kind of. you had him laughing, after all, which for someone with approximately zero charisma was an accomplishment! but then the first chords of firework by katy perry blared through the speakers, and as if on cue, your stomach decided to join in the grand finale.

“do you ever feel like a plastic bag,” katy crooned, but for you, it was more like a “do you ever feel like you’re about to ruin your night by barfing on a hot stranger?”

before you could process what was happening, the tequila-fueled fireworks decided to erupt all over this guy’s very expensive-looking shoes.

oh god. oh god.

you looked up, mortified, to find him staring down at his shoes, eyebrows raised. wow, would you look at the time? 

run.

“oh… oh no. i… i’m so sorry, i swear this never happens.”

he raised a brow, still looking somewhere between amused and horrified. “well, that’s… comforting?”

you grabbed a napkin, fumbling, still buzzing enough to not know if you should laugh, cry, or just make a run for it.

“guess that’s, uh, one way to make an impression,” he murmured, lips twitching in a smirk even as he assessed the disaster on his shoes.

“oh god. really, i’m… i’m so sorry.” you dabbed helplessly at his shoes with a cocktail napkin, somehow making things worse. “if it helps, i… i normally only vomit on hot guys.”

he chuckled, though you were sure it was mostly at you, and shook his head. “well, it’s one hell of an icebreaker.”

“baby, you’re a firework,” katy sang passionately in the background, but you were already ready to crawl under the bar and disappear forever.

you were surprised — actually, you were shocked — that the stranger hadn’t ditched you after the whole public-vomiting-on-his-shoes fiasco. instead, somehow, he was still right there, leaned in close and casually sipping his drink, just as much a mess as you were. hours had passed, and you’d been rambling about anything and everything, lost in an alcohol-fueled bubble that had turned the night into something you’d never have dreamed of.

maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was the guy’s ridiculously calm attitude, but you’d opened up about your career, the absurdity of writing spicy novels as a faceless author, and even your terror about tomorrow. he’d listened with a smirk, offering the occasional snarky remark or grunt of approval. in return, he’d told you a bit about himself too — well, at least, you thought he did. at some point, the details got hazy.

“so, what do you do?” you asked, squinting at him like it was going to make his face stop swimming in your vision.

he shrugged, swirling his drink and giving a lopsided grin. “something kinda like… acting. you know, nothing glamorous.” there was a hint of amusement there, like he was in on a joke you weren’t.

you squinted harder, your mind pulling up images of random professions. “oh, so like… theater? or like, movies? or wait — commercials? are you one of those guys that has to pretend he’s in love with a bowl of soup?”

he let out a deep laugh, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. “sure, something like that. though i’d like to think i’m a bit more convincing than a soup guy.”

you grinned, leaning in closer, your curiosity fully piqued despite your state. “convincing, huh? so you’re a good actor, then?”

“i do my best,” he said, voice low, that amused glint in his eye again.

“you have to be really good to make people believe in, like, totally unrealistic things, y’know?” you babbled, waving your hand. “like, imagine trying to voice —” you cut yourself off, feeling a hint of embarrassment as you remembered why you’d gotten so sloshed in the first place. the irony of tomorrow, and how this entire conversation felt like it was straight out of one of your own stories.

but before you could get too in your head about it, he tilted his head, looking genuinely interested. “voice what? i’m curious, princess.”

princess. the nickname sent a bolt of something dangerously warm straight through you, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “oh, nothing…” you said, waving him off. “just, you know… the usual. people who… um, make people fall in love with their voice.”

“and what if i told you,” he leaned in even closer, smirking as if he’d just had the best idea ever, “that i could probably do that?”

you rolled your eyes, not believing him one bit. “oh really? think you could pull it off?”

“depends,” he said with a shrug. “what kinda character am i playing?”

you didn’t realize it, but you’d inched even closer, like you were hanging on his every word. “someone… someone rough around the edges,” you started, your voice dropping, completely lost in the moment, “but with a softness underneath. someone who could make the world stop with just a whisper…”

he smirked, eyes never leaving yours, and for a second, you felt like he was taking every word way too seriously. “i think i could manage that.”

you blinked, feeling a blush rise. 

this stranger had charisma — like, the kind of charisma you’d thought only existed in your characters. 

oh god, maybe you should write him into your next story. you shook yourself, blinking the daydreams away just as he started talking again.

“... and that’s why,” he was saying, “there’s a bit of an art to saying things just right. people think it’s all about the words, but it’s the way you say them that makes it real, y’know?”

you nodded, trying to focus on his words as the room spun just a bit. “so you’re telling me, it’s all in the delivery?”

“exactly.” his gaze dropped to your lips, and he smirked, like he knew exactly what he was doing. “even the… dirtiest lines sound good if you say ’em the right way.”

oh no. that dangerous warmth was back.

somewhere between his intense gaze and that slow, lopsided smirk, dancing queen by abba blared through the bar speakers, jarring you out of your tipsy trance. the upbeat, disco-infused rhythm filled the room, all but laughing at the “moment” you thought you were having with this too-hot-for-reality stranger.

was this a moment? or were you just ridiculously drunk? did he even have a name? or were you just too far gone to have bothered asking?

“you can dance, you can jive,” abba sang, practically mocking you as you stared, wide-eyed, at the man across from you, his scarred lip twisted in a little grin as he watched you piece it all together. he must’ve seen the dawning realization on your face, because he chuckled, reaching for his drink again.

“something wrong, princess?” he asked, leaning forward with a glint of amusement.

oh, great. i’ve already been promoted to ‘princess’ by a guy i might not know the name of. you were seconds away from facepalming.

“uh, nothing,” you said, waving a hand as casually as you could manage. “just, uh, thinking how ironic it is that dancing queen is playing while… we’re, you know…”

“... having a moment?” he teased, clearly enjoying himself.

“well,” you cleared your throat, cheeks blazing, “if you can call me drunkenly staring at you while abba serenades us a ‘moment.’”

“hey, it’s a solid soundtrack choice,” he replied, looking like he was suppressing a laugh. “besides, don’t pretend this isn’t kinda perfect.”

“you think dancing queen is perfect for this?”

he shrugged, sipping his drink. “come on, you’re hammered, i’m here keeping you company, and we’re both, what… living in the moment?” he quirked a brow, his smirk widening as he eyed you, like he was daring you to argue.

and then, maybe out of pure liquid courage, or maybe because the absurdity was too much, you laughed. “yeah, living the moment… with some guy whose name i don’t even know.”

“toji,” he said, offering his hand with a lazy grin, like he’d just handed you a secret.

“toji,” you echoed, shaking his hand. he held on for a second longer than necessary, his gaze never leaving yours.

 oh, this guy was trouble, and you were in so deep.

“and you?” he asked, still holding your hand.

you barely managed to whisper your name, but it came out like a sigh, and he repeated it back like it was something precious. “well then,” he said, smirking, “guess that makes two dancing queens tonight.”

“toji…” you muttered, the name slipping off your tongue again as you tried to place it. there was something familiar about it, like you’d heard it before, but in your tequila-drenched state, nothing was sticking. 

toji, toji… where had you heard that name?

he cocked an eyebrow, clearly amused as you stared at him like he was the world’s most frustrating puzzle. “something on your mind?”

“n-no,” you stammered, then immediately backpedaled. “wait, actually, yes. toji, right?”

he nodded, a playful gleam in his eye. “that’s the one.”

“toji… toji…” you repeated, squinting at him as if a clearer view would magically connect the dots. and then, it hit you — toji fushiguro. 

the voice actor who would be bringing your spicy, shamelessly dramatic main character to life. 

the same guy you were supposed to meet tomorrow, the guy who was probably used to making everyone’s knees buckle with just a whisper.

“no way…” you whispered, clutching your head, and you could practically feel the blush creeping up your cheeks. “you — you’re… that toji?”

he gave a slight tilt of his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “what, surprised that i could be both hot and talented?”

you sputtered, trying to backtrack and failing miserably. “no! i mean, yes, but i just — tomorrow —  you’re… you’re the guy who’s voicing my main character?”

he leaned back with a smirk, clearly enjoying the whirlwind of emotions he was putting you through. “didn’t think the universe would give you a sneak preview tonight, huh?”

your fuzzy brain struggled to compute this twist of fate. you were drunk, mortified, and beyond flustered, sitting in a bar with the man who’d soon be giving voice to all your filthy, shameless words. this was almost too much.

“oh my god,” you muttered, sinking back in your seat. “i literally threw up on my main character’s shoes.”

toji let out a hearty laugh, patting your shoulder. “hey, if anything, i’d say it’s on-brand for the kind of night you’d write.”

just as you were processing the sheer, ridiculous insanity of the situation, a fresh wave of nausea hit you like a freight train. before you could even react, you leaned forward and… splattered the floor with a decidedly not-dignified stream of bile. this time, it was almost cinematic, complete with a dramatic gagging sound that had you doubling over.

you watched in horror as you once again spewed your insides onto the floor, narrowly missing toji’s shoes but definitely adding a new layer to the already mortifying scene. 

you’d probably just hit rock bottom.

“oh, god,” you groaned, covering your mouth with your hand as the bile burned your throat. “i swear… i’m not normally like this.”

toji chuckled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he handed you a stack of napkins the bartender had generously supplied. “i’m starting to think i’m just a little too overwhelming for you, princess.”

you shot him a sheepish look as you wiped your mouth. overwhelming was an understatement. 

“yeah, maybe we can leave that out of tomorrow’s team introductions,” you mumbled, trying desperately to pull yourself together.

toji chuckled, tossing a few more napkins your way. “no judgment here. it’s a rough night for a first ‘meet-cute,’ but hey, you’re nothing if not memorable.”

you gripped the napkin, willing yourself to hold it together, at least until you could make a semi-dignified exit. “i don’t even want to know what story you’ll tell people about this.”

toji just laughed, completely unbothered, as if getting vomited on was a regular night for him. “don’t worry, i’ll keep it discreet.” his voice dipped, lowering to a murmur. “for a girl with secrets, i figure you’d appreciate that.”

he lifted his drink and gave you a small toast. “to first meetings — and unforgettable nights. and hey, maybe tomorrow, you’ll surprise me and keep it down.”

oh, god, you thought, as you attempted to bury yourself in your napkin. if only i could crawl under the bar and hide forever.

normally, you wouldn’t wake up with “dancing queen” stuck in your head, but as you nursed the remnants of a truly terrible hangover, it felt almost... pleasant? the upbeat melody cut through the fog of your brain, and you couldn’t help but hum along, even if the lyrics felt like a cruel reminder of your embarrassing escapades from the night before.

“you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life...”

wait, why dancing queen of all songs? you squinted at your alarm clock, your heart racing as the memories started flooding back like a poorly written rom-com. oh.

OH.

your eyes widened as you bolted out of bed with a speed that could make an olympic runner blush, frantically throwing on whatever clothes you could find — did you seriously still have a piece of glitter from last night stuck in your hair? gross! but no time for a shower; you had a meeting to get to at gojo-sonic, and you were about to meet — erm, remeet — toji fushiguro.

“ooh, see that girl, watch that scene, digging the dancing queen...”

as the lyrics blared in your head like an incessant movie soundtrack, you dashed out the door, praying you’d catch a cab in time. the universe couldn’t possibly let you walk into this meeting looking like a hot mess — especially when your main character's voice was waiting on the other side.

“you’re a tease you turn ‘em on…leave ‘em burning and then you’re gone…”

you rolled your eyes at your own ridiculousness. who cared if you’d practically thrown up on the guy? all you had to do was survive your own personal dance-off with fate and hope toji didn’t remember the lovely little details from last night.

you took a deep breath, determined to channel all the confidence you could muster. today was going to be great. right?

as you walked into the meeting room, gojo practically huffed an air of relief. you couldn’t help but think it was a little dramatic — like, it’s just a meeting. you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the last remnants of your hangover and the lingering embarrassment of last night’s vomit-venture.

the room was brightly lit, filled with a few familiar faces, including toji, who was leaning casually against a table with that annoyingly charming grin plastered on his face. 

great. you’d somehow forgotten just how hot he was in the light of day. 

toji’s presence made your stomach flutter and flip, but you shoved that feeling down — this was business, after all.

you scanned the room and spotted gojo-sonic’s most valued investor suguru geto on a screen in the corner, his hair tied back and eyes sharp as he joined the meeting online. wow, great first impression! with a sudden wave of panic, you could almost hear the dancing queen lyrics mocking you in the back of your mind. what’s next, bursting into song?

“hey, look who finally made it!” toji said, amusement dancing in his eyes. perfect. if he was going to make light of your grand entrance, you had to think fast to steer the conversation away from the disaster that was last night.

“sorry for keeping you all waiting,” you replied, forcing a smile that hopefully didn’t look too forced. “i had... a crazy night.”

toji raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “crazy night, huh? did you bring us any stories?”

you shot him a warning glance, your heart racing as you internally pleaded with him not to say anything that could ruin your career. thankfully, he just chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back, letting the moment hang in the air without any revealing comments.

“i think we’d all like to hear that,” suguru said, his tone teasing as he adjusted the camera. “but let’s save the fun stuff for later, right? we’ve got work to do.”

you nodded, grateful for suguru’s timely intervention. “yes, absolutely! so, uh, about the voice work —”

the atmosphere shifted as the others exchanged knowing glances, and you knew you’d have to tread carefully. this meeting was crucial, and you couldn’t let last night’s incident derail everything you’d worked for. with any luck, maybe you could just keep your foot out of your mouth for the rest of the meeting.

toji always knew he was hot.

i mean, how could he not? 

with a jawline that could slice bread and a smirk that could charm the pants off anyone, confidence practically dripped off him like a cologne commercial. but the real question was: how to channel this hotness and turn it into something lucrative? great question! 

being a single dad to wasn’t easy, and running from odd job to odd job just to scrape enough money for the brat’s school was proving to be tiresome. until one day, a certain gojo satoru decided to drop a bombshell on him.

“toji, you ever think about using that voice of yours for something... more creative?” gojo asked, leaning back in his office chair, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“creative? what, like narrating my life as a sad single dad?” toji replied dryly, rolling his eyes. “because let me tell you, it’s not exactly a page-turner.”

“no, no, hear me out!” gojo insisted, practically bouncing in his seat. “i’m talking about voice acting — specifically, erotic audiobooks. it’s the next big thing!”

toji blinked, momentarily stunned. “you mean to tell me that the former bouncer at an elite club would be voicing erotic audiobooks? saying those weird, cringey lines that women seem to love? you’re insane.”

“think about it! you have the looks, the voice, and the whole mysterious vibe down pat,” gojo urged, waving his hands dramatically. “besides, you need the cash, and i need someone to bring a little... heat to my company.”

“you really think people want to hear me read lines like, ‘take me, you wild beast?’” toji quipped, snorting.

fast forward to his first recording session, where everything seemed to be going smoothly until disaster struck. toji was deep in character, delivering his best sexy voice when — bam! — the bathroom pipe exploded in his tiny flat.

“oh god, yes, just like that —” he started, voice dripping with sultry charm, when suddenly, a muffled splash! interrupted him, followed by megumi’s wail from the other room.

“dad! there’s water everywhere!”

toji cursed under his breath, trying to maintain his composure. “i’m coming! just... give me a second, i’m — ah, it’s getting so hot in here!” he struggled to continue, desperately trying to block out the chaos around him while the sounds of the pipe gushing water filled the audio.

but it turned out hormones took over the technical difficulties, because when the snippet was finally released, women and men of all ages were devouring it like it was the last slice of pizza at a party. it even went viral on tiktok, with cringe-worthy wannabes trying to recreate his sultry lines, failing miserably while toji sat back, amused.

“really? you think you can pull this off?” he chuckled to himself, watching one kid awkwardly mimic him. “nice try, kid. but good luck sounding this good while your mom’s screaming at you for hogging the bathroom.”

because toji wasn’t just a househusband — house father — anymore. he was a household name, and everyone knew him. his rise to fame was a wild ride, but hey, at least now he could afford to get the bathroom fixed — one line at a time.

he could hardly wrap his head around how he’d managed to move out of his tiny, crumbling apartment and into a much better place for him and megumi. it was like waking up one day and realizing he’d accidentally won the lottery. “wait, how did i end up here?” he’d mutter to himself, staring at the pristine walls and polished floors. “and how the hell can i pay megumi’s school fees on time without dodging dirty glares from the accounts office?”

he’d walk into the school, head held high, while megumi proudly puffed out his eight-year-old chest. “my daddy’s an actor!” he’d announce to anyone who would listen. toji couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. i mean, the kid wasn’t wrong. he was acting — acting like he had his life together, at least!

but did his new job stop toji from being a little hoe? oh, hell no. 

if anything, the fame went straight to his head — both up and down there, mind you. toji was like a kid in a candy store, and he was using his newfound charm to siphon money from literally every sugar mommy he could find. 

and daddies, too, if he was feeling daring. 

because people would die to be known as someone “close” to the toji fushiguro.

“oh my god, is that him?” a passerby would whisper, nudging her friend as they walked past toji at a private event.

“i think it is! i heard he’s dating someone famous,” her friend would respond, leaning in as if they were sharing a juicy secret. “i’ve seen him at that new club downtown. he’s just so... magnetic.”

“totally! i mean, if i could get him to call me ‘sweetheart’ just once, i’d die a happy woman,” the first friend would say, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.

toji would smirk to himself, sipping his drink while casually overhearing their chatter. “yep, you’re right. i’m as available as a 24/7 convenience store,” he’d think, reveling in the attention. "i could probably charm the pants off a rock if i tried."

another group of giggling fans would walk by, whispering amongst themselves, “i met him at that charity event last week! he was so sweet! like, did you see the way he talked to everyone? he’s definitely a heartthrob.”

“sweet? you mean hot, right?” one of them would tease, and they’d all burst into laughter.

“please, if he looked at me, i’d die!” another would declare, all starry-eyed.

toji’s smirk widened. “keep it coming, ladies. i’m just here for the show.” he couldn’t deny it; being the center of attention was intoxicating, and he was loving every second of it.

with a wink and a little wave, he’d keep strutting through life like a runway model, knowing full well he had the power to turn heads and keep wallets open. “who knew being a hot voice actor could be this fun?”

great that you’d ask what toji did with all that sweet, sweet cash! save it all for his brat of a son, of course, even if he wouldn’t admit it. beneath that rugged exterior and playful swagger, he had a soft spot for the little sucker.

just the other week, megumi had been rambling on about wanting a really cool new video game console. “but daddy, alllll my friends have one! it’s so unfair!” he’d whined, big blue eyes practically shimmering with hope. toji had rolled his eyes, trying to act tough, but the moment he saw the kid's face, his heart melted like butter on a hot skillet. “fine, but only if you promise to finish your homework first.”

the next day, megumi had unwrapped a brand-new console, complete with all the latest games, and toji had basked in the sheer delight radiating from his son. “this is the best day ever!” megumi had screamed, wrapping his arms around toji’s waist. “thank you, daddy!”

toji grinned like an idiot, pretending to be unimpressed. “yeah, yeah, don’t go losing it on the first day, alright? and remember, no playing after eight!” he was basically a walking contradiction: a grumpy dad who secretly loved being the cool parent.

then there was that time megumi had been obsessed with this rare action figure from his favorite show. toji had seen the way his son’s eyes lit up every time he spotted it in a store, but it was always sold out. so, naturally, when toji found one online at a steep price, he didn’t hesitate. “i’ll just skip my overpriced rum for a week. totally worth it.”

when megumi had opened the package, he’d literally jumped in the air, screeching like a siren. “no way! you got it for me!?” and toji had played it cool, shrugging his shoulders. “what can i say? your dad’s a generous guy.”

of course, this indulgence didn’t go unnoticed by gojo satoru. the six eyes — er, eyes! — of the man always seemed to be on toji, especially when he noticed his friend was splurging just a little too much on himself — like that new leather jacket that looked ridiculously good on him. 

“i need a jacket like that,” gojo had muttered to himself, glancing at his own wardrobe with disappointment.

whenever toji treated himself, gojo would quietly slide a check over to him, nonchalantly muttering, “just a little something for megumi’s school expenses.”

some people would have viewed it as offensive or patronizing, but not toji. he’d always laughed it off, feeling grateful instead. in his mind, gojo was like a guardian angel — “if guardian angels wore sunglasses and had a taste for expensive sweets.” he saw it as gojo looking out for megumi, which made toji’s heart swell with warmth. “who else would want to help raise my kid? might as well accept it.”

“just don’t make a habit of it, alright?” toji would say with a teasing grin. “i don’t need you spoiling him more than i do.”

“too late,” gojo would quip, already plotting ways to sneak more gifts into megumi’s life. “it’s my new hobby.”

so, when gojo casually dropped the bomb that toji would be voicing one of the hottest, trending smut book — “mating with the demon king” or something equally ridiculous — toji shrugged it off. “simple enough job,” he thought. “and it must be good if they came to me for it.”

but when gojo suggested he read the book to get an idea of the material — “just a little prep work,” he’d said with that infuriatingly charming grin — things took a wild turn.

big mistake, toji would later reflect as he flipped through the pages, his eyebrows shooting up higher than a roller coaster. “who writes this stuff?” he muttered, half-laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.

the content was downright depraved. there were scenes that had him questioning his entire existence. 

“‘he thrust into her like a man possessed, each stroke igniting a fire within her’ — what even is that?” he read aloud, only to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness. megumi, playing quietly in the other room, wondered why his daddy was cackling like a madman.

“uh, daddy? why are you reading that out loud?” megumi had peeked in, eyes wide with curiosity. toji quickly scrambled to shut the book. “uh, just… learning about, uh, cooking techniques!” he stammered, trying to play it cool. “you wouldn’t get it, buddy.”

but the laughter continued to bubble out of him, and he couldn’t help but read some of the more ludicrous lines. “‘his lips found her collarbone, trailing heat like a wildfire’ — who even talks like that?” he shook his head, utterly bemused.

by the end of the chapter, he was howling. “‘she gasped as he swept her off her feet and into a world of ecstasy’ — oh please!” toji chortled, clutching his stomach, imagining how this would all sound through a microphone. “my kid is gonna think i’ve lost my goddamn mind.”

but hey, if this job was going to pay the bills, he figured he could endure a little humiliation. “it’s all in a day’s work, right?” he muttered to himself, finally accepting that he was now the voice of “mating with the demon king.”

all that reading really took its toll on toji — physically, mentally, spiritually even. after hours spent tripping over lines like “pressed against the throbbing heat of his desire” (yeah, that one took five tries to get through without laughing), he needed to clear his head. so, he found himself at a bar, halfway through a drink, hoping to numb the embarrassment he’d just endured in the name of rent money.

then stumbles this stranger — a cute, very tipsy stranger who quickly parked herself right next to him and started chatting him up, wide-eyed and slightly unsteady. great, drunk people, he thought, resisting an eyeroll as she grinned at him, looking ready to either start a fight or profess her love. 

maybe both.

of course, what are the odds she’d go ahead and throw up on his shoes? yes, his brand-new shoes, because, apparently, the universe had decided that tonight, toji fushiguro would be the world’s personal punching bag. “can’t even get through one drink without some shit happening,” he muttered to himself as she looked up at him with a horrified expression. “we’re off to a great start here, huh?”

after some water and some awkward apologies (mostly her apologizing, mostly him trying not to laugh), they fell into surprisingly decent conversation. she was rambling about her job, the stress, the weird demands — stuff he could sympathize with, honestly. 

and that’s when he dropped it, just for fun: “i’m a voice actor.”

her eyes sparkled with recognition — a little too much recognition, actually, which made him narrow his eyes. “wait, what’s your name?” she asked, suddenly all ears.

“toji. toji fushiguro.”

the second he said it, her face went from curious to horrified to... oh yeah, she knew exactly who he was. “wait,” she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. “you’re... you’re the voice actor for my book.”

toji raised an eyebrow, deadpan. 

so this was the writer, the one who wrote all that nonsense he’d been struggling through for days. well, wasn’t that just the cherry on top. not only was this his boss but also the very person responsible for phrases like “pulsing need” and “moans spilling like honey.” and she’d just puked on him. 

talk about a power move.

“small world,” he said, his tone dry as desert sand. wonderful, he thought. my boss threw up on me. but, hey, the night was still young. 

he took a long sip from his drink, hoping she wouldn’t take this as an excuse to unleash some kind of creative critique.

“i... i didn’t know you’d be here,” she stammered, a shade redder than before, probably realizing what this made her look like — her, the lady behind the “throbbing heat of desire” shtick.

“don’t worry,” he said, giving her a smirk. “i won’t tell anyone the literary mastermind responsible for all that... romance has a weak stomach.”

you probably don’t remember much after you composed yourself following that second round of projectile embarrassment — but don’t worry, toji remembers. the man’s got a steel trap for the kinds of memories you’d prefer stayed buried. once he’d figured out that you weren’t exactly in shape to be left wandering around, he made the executive decision to get you home. yeah, he’d just met you a couple hours ago, but somehow, through the boozy haze and questionable life choices, he’d managed to catch your address. 

impressive detective work, really… or, well, you may have blurted it out mid-ramble about how “the streetlight outside is the only thing lighting up your lonely hallway.” 

a touch dramatic, but, hey, it worked.

so he got you back to your place (no thanks to the cab driver’s judgmental side-eye), got you up the stairs without you faceplanting, and, after propping you up long enough to unlock your door, he even went the extra mile and tucked you under the covers. you, meanwhile, mumbled something about “tequila being the devil,” blissfully oblivious to the poor guy who’d just witnessed more of your personal life than your closest friends. toji took one last look before heading out, chuckling to himself as you drifted off, probably already dreaming of whatever literary nonsense you’d be writing next.

but what really stuck with him? the damn “dancing queen” chorus ringing in his ears from the bar. maybe it was still playing somewhere out there in the night, or maybe you’d just cursed him with it. because as he walked home, hands shoved in his pockets, there it was, looping over and over in his head. 

“you can dance… you can jive…” 

great, now he’d be humming it for days.

both you and toji were snapped back into the fluorescent-lit reality of the conference room, where gojo was still going on about… royalties? percentages? to be honest, the entire spiel sounded more like corporate white noise to you. 

toji, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair, looking as disinterested as humanly possible without actually falling asleep. across the screen, suguru appeared in one of those stiff, all-business modes, nodding along to gojo’s speech. his eyes had that telltale sparkle that only appeared when money was the topic — “stakeholder perks,” as gojo would call it, though it just meant suguru got to rake in extra cash on the side.

“and once the audiobook’s live, the split from the sales will be recalculated quarterly, yadda yadda, yadaaa —” gojo’s voice broke into a sing-song, clearly amusing only himself. “anyway, you guys will see some real sweet checks from this.”

“royalties…” suguru interjected, a bit too smoothly, “remind me what those projected percentages were again, satoru?”

toji suppressed a snort. here they were, with the man himself who could barely be bothered to read a weather report straight, much less your raunchy magnum opus. good luck explaining earnings, gojo.

“oh yeah, royalties!” gojo cleared his throat, launching into a number-laden monologue that seemed to somehow both explain everything and nothing at once. toji barely listened, glancing at the digital clock on the wall. it was only when gojo pivoted, with a suddenly very pointed look, that toji actually tuned back in.

“so, did everyone do their, ah, homework?” gojo grinned as his gaze swept across the room, his eyes landing on you with a bit too much knowing amusement. “read the… material?”

you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, and every other voice actor in the room suddenly found the table, the wall, or their own shoes very interesting.

all except toji, of course, who stretched back with the most obnoxious smirk you’d seen yet.

“homework?” he drawled, deadpan as always. “yeah, got right into it. wouldn’t want to miss a single word of that… fine literature.”

a few of the others exchanged awkward looks, clearly unsure how to respond to the dead-serious way toji said fine literature without a shred of irony. meanwhile, you shrank a little in your seat, not exactly loving the fact that the guy you threw up on was apparently the one voice actor who actually read your work cover-to-cover. not to mention, this was toji fushiguro, the voice actor who’d taken the world by storm with a single, leaked snippet. you'd heard your fans say that he was some kind of god-tier talent — practically a household name. and now? 

he was casually staring you down like he'd just read your diary.

“it’s… it’s not that bad,” you muttered defensively, feeling a prickling heat rise up your neck.

toji raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “oh, didn’t say it was bad. just, uh… thorough.”

you felt the blush intensify, but before you could reply, gojo jumped back in, undeterred. “great! since everyone’s read it now, we’ll dive into scene breakdowns tomorrow, with input from our illustrious author here.” he winked at you in that annoyingly playful way of his, as if he’d just orchestrated the whole thing for kicks. “it’s all about bringing your vision to life, yeah?”

“looking forward to it.” toji’s tone was smooth, with just enough emphasis to hint at the mischief lying behind his calm expression. you could swear there was a glimmer of challenge in his eyes, and the fact that he’d actually read the book — a book that you wrote in a creative haze, no less — was beginning to feel less like a weird coincidence and more like some cosmic joke at your expense.

suguru’s voice broke through, “and let’s hope that translates to success, right, gojo? my dividends would certainly appreciate it.”

“oh, don’t you worry, sugu bear.” gojo leaned in with that shark-like grin of his. “with toji voicing this masterpiece, and the author right here to guide us? we’re printing money already.”

with a dramatic flourish, gojo clapped his hands together, instantly breaking the tension. “alright, dismissed! snacks are out front — help yourselves, or not! more for me, after all,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye as he clearly envisioned his sugary hoard.

suguru took this moment as his graceful exit cue, giving a short nod before the screen blinked off. gojo sighed theatrically, clasping his chest. “oh, suguru, leaving so soon? you wound me! who’s going to discuss ‘dividends’ and ‘royalties’ with me now?”

nobody had the heart — or possibly the patience — to answer that question, which suited gojo just fine as he spun on his heel, making his way toward the snack table. 

you, meanwhile, considered vanishing altogether, at least until the next segment of the day when you’d actually need to make yourself useful. judging by the energy in the room, none of the other voice actors were in a rush to strike up a conversation with you. 

ouch. apparently, being the creator of their next project wasn’t that much of a social asset.

you edged toward the door, already halfway to freedom when, like clockwork, a deep, familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “leaving so soon?”

you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. obnoxious didn’t even cover half of it. “just… thought i’d give you guys a break from me,” you muttered, gripping the strap of your bag tighter, hoping it looked casual instead of like an attempt to bolt.

toji’s laugh was low, almost teasing. “a break? i don’t mind the company. in fact, i think the others are just shy.” his words were smooth, but there was a mischievous lilt to them, like he was very aware of just how uncomfortable you probably were.

“right,” you deadpanned, summoning every ounce of sarcasm you had left. “they’re all just shy.”

he chuckled, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the snack table. gojo was already there, unabashedly sampling a tray of tiny cupcakes. he shot you both a grin that was, in all honesty, more threatening than friendly. 

oh god, why is he looking at us like that?

“so!” gojo swiped another cupcake, leaning back against the table as he took in you and toji with an almost too-pleased expression. “getting along, are we? i mean, it’s not every day you get to work so closely with the voice behind your book, right?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, as if trying to ignite some sort of spark just to make things interesting.

toji, unbothered as ever, shrugged. “she already threw up on me. might as well be friends after that, huh?”

oh my god. 

you felt the flush rise to your face instantly, a mix of embarrassment and horror. he did not just bring that up in front of gojo, of all people.

“aww, how cute!” gojo crooned, looking absolutely delighted as he clapped his hands in that overly-enthusiastic, not-at-all sincere way. “bonding over bodily fluids. you guys are practically soulmates!”

“please, kill me now,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at the snack table like it might provide an escape hatch.

toji leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper, and you could practically hear the smirk in his tone. “don’t worry, author. i’ve seen worse.”

“great, that’s… comforting,” you muttered, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you grabbed a snack at random. at this point, you were ready to make a quick exit, potentially before the day’s work even started if it meant escaping this scene.

“now, don’t run off too fast,” gojo added, wagging a finger at you with a sly grin. “i’m expecting all of us back here in an hour, nice and energized. don’t want any excuses!”

toji shot you one last look, equal parts teasing and unreadable, before he turned to grab a coffee. “guess you’re stuck with me for a little longer,” he murmured, a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes.

wonderful. absolutely wonderful. well, at least there’s cupcakes.

it’s only five minutes into the recording session, and you’re already wondering if there’s a job market for earth-burrowing positions. if there is, you’d gladly take it. anything would be better than this…circus.

the sound booth is packed with voice actors delivering line after line of your book’s carefully crafted (painfully cheesy) smutty dialogue. you bite your lip, both cringing and resisting the urge to laugh out loud as one of the actors, a slender guy with an unfortunate tendency to over-dramatize every vowel, reads his line with a tragic sigh.

“i can’t help it… i just want to devour you.”

devour you? you want to throw yourself into the nearest trash can. before you can stop yourself, you lean forward into the mic, managing a half-apologetic, half-pleading tone. “uh, could you maybe… ease up on the ‘devour’ part? like, less dramatic, more… suave?”

he nods seriously, doing a quick vocal warm-up before trying again. “i can’t help it… i just want to devoooour—”

“nope! nope, nope, nope!” you blurt, a little louder than you intended, the cringe spiraling out of control. you quickly clear your throat, trying to sound as professional as possible. “let’s, uh, maybe just skip to the next line.”

from the corner of the room, you catch sight of gojo, who’s grinning so widely you’re genuinely concerned his face might stay that way forever. he’s watching you with an infectious enthusiasm that’s bordering on manic, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement. you’re half-expecting him to yell, “surprise! this is an snl skit!”

you rub at your temple, wishing the earth would do you a solid and open up beneath you, while the next actor — a petite, sweet-looking woman who’s visibly uncomfortable — takes her turn. she clears her throat, looking down at her script, and delivers the line in a barely-there whisper, “i… i want you to take me… take me as if…”

“um…” you grimace, instantly feeling the heat rise to your face. “maybe a bit louder? but, you know, sensual.”

she blushes, muttering something under her breath before raising her voice, though it’s still trembling. “i… i want you to… take me… as if…”

toji, who’s been watching the whole scene from his seat, chuckles lowly, and his smirk sends a jolt of embarrassment through you. “jeez, author, why don’t you just hop in there and show ’em how it’s done?” he mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm, though it’s not unkind.

you throw him a flat look, biting back an eye roll. not like i wanted to be here, you think to yourself. it’s just that somehow, the universe decided that today you’d be responsible for turning lines you’d never want to say out loud into something even remotely palatable.

and it only gets worse. 

another actor — a deep-voiced, well-meaning guy in his mid-40s — leans into his mic and reads out, in a gruff voice you can only describe as a rejected batman impersonation: “you’re driving me… wild.” his tone is so intense it’s like he’s threatening to fight the listener in a parking lot.

“okay… we might want to dial it back a little,” you say carefully, hoping to mask your horror with politeness. “just… a little less ‘supervillain,’ more… warm?”

you hear toji chuckle behind you, low and rumbling, clearly reveling in your suffering. and as you glance over your shoulder, you find gojo, once again, looking like this is the best entertainment he’s had in years. 

at this point, he might actually cry from laughing.

just when you think it can’t get any worse, toji stands, giving you a wink as he heads into the booth for his turn. he takes the mic, his face blank and unreadable as he starts reading the next line.

“i need you… right now,” he purrs, his voice oozing that lazy, sensual charm you’d envisioned for this character. it’s… almost unfair, really. 

there’s not an ounce of irony or overacting. 

toji’s delivery is so smooth, so confident, that it catches you off guard, a flush rising to your cheeks.

gojo lets out a low whistle, giving you a teasing look as if to say, see? was that so hard?

“finally,” you mutter under your breath, swallowing the lump in your throat. gojo raises a brow, clearly enjoying every second of your awkwardness.

you sigh, mentally bracing yourself for the rest of the recording. if nothing else, at least one actor seems to have nailed the tone — much to your embarrassment and gojo’s endless delight.

you clear your throat, attempting to regain some semblance of control over the recording session, which is proving to be harder than herding a pack of caffeinated cats. “right, everyone, let’s, uh, keep moving and go ahead with recording the dragon king’s lines. toji, if you’re ready?”

but you barely finish your sentence before gojo claps toji on the shoulder with that all-too-annoying bromance energy, grinning from ear to ear. “our star is ready, aren’t ya, toji? i mean, look at this guy! look at him! can’t believe i found this gem for gojo-sonic!” gojo’s voice carries that infuriatingly proud tone that practically drips with smug satisfaction.

you stifle an eye roll, and even the other actors exchange glances, half-annoyed, half-amused at gojo’s over-the-top fawning. but before you can jump in to cut gojo off, toji just smirks, sliding comfortably into the mic like he was born to deliver cheesy lines.

“alright, alright,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. “let’s see what you’ve got, mr. dragon king.”

toji adjusts the headphones, his lazy smirk already primed. 

and then he begins, voice low and sultry, hitting each cringe-worthy word with the same ridiculous gravitas that has the whole room mesmerized.

“i have waited eons for a beauty like yours to grace my realm. come… be mine, and together we shall rule the heavens.”

you can practically feel everyone holding their breath, transfixed by the sheer sincerity in his tone, despite the line’s absurdity. you, too, can’t help but feel a blush creeping up your neck, which is just unfair given you wrote these lines. 

you knew what they were meant to sound like, but this? 

he’s delivering them like they’re damn poetry.

toji doesn’t stop there, though, his deep voice carrying each line as though he’s serenading the mic. “my heart burns with a fire only you can soothe. take my hand, and i swear to guard your heart with my very life.”

gojo is practically fawning, batting his eyelashes like a proud parent in the corner. “see, people, this is how it’s done! let the dragon king here show you amateurs how it’s really supposed to sound!”

you resist the urge to chuck something at gojo as the other actors’ eyes widen, watching in awe.

one of them mutters under their breath, “no way we’re topping that.”

and then, toji’s voice dips even lower, the next line coming out in a growl that somehow manages to be both dramatic and, disturbingly, kind of… enchanting.

“you are the breath in my lungs, the flame in my veins. without you, i am but a shadow… a beast in the dark.”

the room is dead silent. 

you’re all fawning, gushing messes, and you’re not even sure how it happened. it’s like toji’s somehow turned this trial recording into an absurdly hot moment. you can barely believe you’re hearing the same lines you once labeled “ridiculously cringey” in the draft.

finally, he leans back, looking pleased with himself, as if he hadn’t just left everyone a little breathless. gojo practically beams with pride, nudging you. 

“so… i think you’ve found your dragon king, wouldn’t you say?”

you nod, still stunned, half in disbelief, half in begrudging admiration. if this was just the trial recording, you could only imagine how many blushing, starry-eyed listeners this final audiobook was going to leave in its wake.

the moment the trial recording session wraps up, gojo is the first one on his feet, clapping his hands like he's just watched the performance of a lifetime. “brilliant!” he practically shouts, pulling out his phone faster than you can blink. “suguru needs to hear this,” he mutters, already dialing his business partner like a kid who can’t wait to brag about his latest toy.

sometimes you really do forget that gojo is the ceo of a multi-million dollar company — an erotic audiobook company, no less. 

is he this passionate about the art, or is it just the money? either way, watching him fanboy over his own employee leaves you a mix of amused and exhausted.

there’s a charm to it, though, even if it’s a little baffling to witness in real time.

as the energy in the studio starts to mellow, you find yourself actually breathing a bit easier. for once, things seem to be going smoothly. 

maybe this whole collaboration wouldn’t be a disaster after all. 

you let yourself relax, even if a small part of your brain chides you with a quick reminder: next time, skip the cheap caffeine fix when you’re pulling an all-nighter writing smut. 

or… cheap anything, really. 

yeah, you don’t actually smoke, you remind yourself — except, well, that one time in college, but hey, that was a whole different you. one that should stay buried in the relics of questionable decisions, right next to your spiral-bound notes of embarrassingly bad poetry.

just as you’re praying to the universe that this is all going to wrap up without any extra drama, you hear it. the sound that’s become both your nightmare and… okay, maybe, a little less than that.

“well, princess,” toji’s voice rumbles, his tone as amused as it is teasing, “got anything else you want from your dragon king?”

you close your eyes and will the ground to open up beneath you, but nope, nothing. 

nothing but the sound of your heartbeat doing an awkward little tango in your chest.

of course he’d pick now to resurrect that ridiculous moniker from last night. like it wasn’t humiliating enough when he threw it out there while you were a couple drinks deep and all but glued to your seat at the bar. 

oh, you’re practically begging the universe to put you out of your misery — well, actually, now that you think about it, maybe being wrapped up in those beefy arms wouldn’t be the worst fate…

wow. get a grip, girl. this is the caffeine deprivation talking. 

definitely that.

but then toji smirks at you, an eyebrow raised, as if he’s just dared you to respond. and all you can think is… oh, lord, this man is trouble.

"c’mon, just a drink,” toji insists, flashing that devil-may-care grin that both ruins and improves your day within a matter of seconds. he’s leaning back like he’s got all the time in the world, casually ignoring how you definitely don’t. 

“trust me, princess, it’ll settle your nerves.”

it’s not like you need a reminder of the mess that was last night. every foggy memory swirls in your head, like life’s own cruel version of a mocktail — one garnished with shame, regret, and a generous helping of last night’s tequila. 

if anything, adding more drinks to this equation feels about as smart as walking blindfolded into traffic.

but toji’s already up, stretching like he’s completely unaware of the chaotic memories this whole “outing” is summoning. “just a quick look around gojo-sonic, yeah?” he says, nodding toward the maze of hallways beyond the studio door, his face the perfect picture of innocence.

“you’re new here, and it’s… important to know the lay of the land. work reasons.”

you can practically hear the quotation marks around that “work reasons.”

“you know,” he adds with a wink, “never hurts to see where the magic happens.”

yeah, right. you have a feeling the only magic here is him somehow dragging you deeper into your personal nightmare.

you don’t even get the chance to respond with a yes, no, or a “maybe next century” when toji’s phone lights up and his whole expression darkens. not exactly the look you expect from the guy whose voice practically ruined half the internet last month with that infamous line about... well, yeah, better not go there right now.

“satoru, the brat got into a fight,” he growls into the phone, and suddenly, satoru’s jaw hits the floor with such force you can practically hear it from across the studio. toji doesn’t stick around for a reply, though — he’s already striding toward the door like a man with a purpose, ignoring satoru’s spluttered, “the what did who?”

and somehow — god knows how — you find yourself tagging along like it’s the most natural thing in the world. maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s the thrill of seeing toji in full boss mode, or maybe it’s just because, oh, y’know, “responsible adult and responsibilities” instincts or whatever. 

but the further you walk, the more you realize that toji doesn’t mind you following one bit. in fact, he’s practically matching his pace to yours, as if you’re part of some unofficial escort mission to... whoever this “brat” is.

which, speaking of, who the hell is megumi?

you’re still trying to wrap your head around how this was supposed to be a “quick tour” of the office and not, somehow, an impromptu escort mission to the world’s sleekest car, a porsche 911 turbo — yep, that’s right, the kind of car you’ve only ever seen in movies where the bad guy’s got a mysterious, sexy side. all you can manage is, “you own this?”

toji shrugs, slipping his keys into the ignition with an air of pure, unbothered cool. “you don’t?”

oh. okay. 

you barely have time to process this response before he’s peeling out of the parking lot, narrowly avoiding a stray cat, a snail-paced truck, and an old lady who’s almost sacrificed her wig to his driving style. but hey, all part of the thrill, right?

definitely not questioning life choices here.

by the time you pull up to a cutesy primary school — you know, the kind with pastel-colored gates and cartoon murals of bears and rabbits — you’re genuinely confused. 

toji seems like the last guy who’d be here unless it was some undercover op. and “megumi,” whoever he is, sounds like he could be the school’s playground menace.

“wait, this is where we’re headed?” you ask, eyeing the building like it might suddenly make sense.

but toji’s out of the car, moving so fast you practically have to jog to keep up. the school secretary gives you both a wary glance, likely sensing the storm of exasperation radiating off toji, as he strides straight into the principal’s office. there, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed and an unimpressed scowl that screams “mini-toji,” is a little boy with spiky hair and an air of quiet defiance.

without missing a beat, toji asks, “megs! did you win?”

the principal, a kindly-looking woman whose expression is rapidly shifting from “calm mediator” to “i don’t get paid enough for this,” clears her throat. 

“mr. fushiguro, your son wasn’t... in the wrong, per se. it appears he was, um, defending his honor.”

defending his honor? you blink. what kind of second grader even knows what that means?

“that true, ‘gumi?” toji says, arms crossed, looking every bit the unbothered, proud dad of the year.

“he said my dad was a... weird voice actor,” megumi mutters, then shrugs. “so i said at least my dad works.”

you nearly choke, partly from stifled laughter, partly from the sheer absurdity of all this. here you were, thinking “honor” meant, like, taking down a playground empire or something. 

but no, megumi’s just a kid with a sharp tongue and a little too much of toji’s attitude.

“damn right, kid,” toji says, patting megumi’s head, then looking over at you with that familiar, annoyingly smug grin. “raised him right, yeah?”

“...sure,” you say, because what else can you even say at this point? it’s like you’ve stumbled into the weirdest sitcom ever, and the laugh track is somehow missing.

the principal’s expression morphs into something almost painfully polite as she addresses you, tiptoeing around the word wife with an impressive mix of caution and curiosity. 

“are you, ah... megumi’s guardian?”

and then, in perfect, unplanned harmony, you, toji, and megumi all blurt out, “no.”

the unity, the instinctual synchronization — it’s like you’re all on the same wavelength, for better or worse. soul-level understanding, or something. 

what the hell is happening right now?

with a polite smile and a “let’s never speak of this again” nod, you three finally leave the principal’s office. megumi, looking more bored than reprimanded, flicks at a speck of lint on his uniform, while you and toji attempt to navigate the hallway swarming with concerned teachers and worried front-desk ladies. and by “concerned” and “worried,” it’s more like they’re curious about toji’s parenting style and, let’s be honest, probably toji himself.

“oh, mr. fushiguro!” one particularly invested teacher coos, “we heard about the incident. is everything all right?”

toji, of course, laps up the attention, chuckling low and throwing in a wink here and there like he’s starring in some kind of action-movie dad role. the ladies are practically falling over themselves to get a response from him, their questions barely veiled as they assess you with raised brows and sideways glances, a classic “who’s she?” written all over their faces.

“and you are...?” one of the front-desk ladies finally asks, voice all sugar-coated and sharp.

toji slides in smoothly, cutting off whatever half-formed, awkward introduction you were about to stammer out. “oh, she’s a colleague,” he says, his tone effortlessly suave, like introducing a perfectly respectable coworker and totally not the author of his last, extremely explicit audiobook project.

you’re almost grateful until it hits you — this is the same guy who made a whole production of calling you “princess” in the recording booth just yesterday. 

as if he hasn’t played one of your absurdly corny dragon kings in all his full-throttle intensity. 

and now he’s here, all casual and cool, giving you a proper, respectable title like he hasn’t spent hours voicing content these people probably keep hidden under their pillows at night.

but at least he didn’t out you as the actual author of those… creative pieces. 

that’s something.

toji is out here, doing his social service to society. and no, it’s not about lending his voice to steamy audiobooks, thank you very much. 

today, he’s serving the community by providing these teachers with a generous five minutes of his attention, which they’ll probably be replaying in their heads until the next parent-teacher meeting. and — oh, what a surprise! — that’s exactly what they’re talking about now, circling back to how he must come to the next one for a “serious discussion” about megumi.

toji’s stance? why bother? if the kid’s acing his tests, staying out of trouble (mostly), and keeping a lid on the whole “honor” thing, why does he need to sit through hours of polite lecturing from the pta?

while he’s busy justifying his lack of parental enthusiasm, you feel a pair of eyes on you. glancing down, you meet megumi’s steady, curious stare. 

it’s oddly intense for a kid his age, but you’re not one to back down from a challenge. you narrow your eyes, feigning a critical, assessing look, and he visibly falters, going slightly pink around the ears.

ah, kids.

as you three make your way out of the building — toji still being all socialite with the staff and probably postponing that pta date indefinitely — you suddenly find yourself in a mini interview  with megumi. it’s as if this eight-year-old has appointed himself the gatekeeper of his dad’s life and has decided you’re the latest applicant.

“so… what’s your favorite color?” he asks, with an unblinking, serious stare.

“uh…” you pause, realizing the weight of your answer here. “blue. like, uh, light blue.”

he nods, considering. “good answer.”

a pause. “favorite superhero?”

“batman?” you try, glancing at him for a sign of approval.

“hmm. fine. but iron man would’ve been better.”

noted, you think, as he then moves to cereal brand, favorite animal, and even your preferred subject in school. you navigate each question as best as you can, almost feeling the burn of a final exam.

then, in a moment of quiet, just as you think the quiz is over, megumi looks down and asks, voice barely a whisper, “did i… do the right thing? defending my… my hone-er?”

“your… oh, honor?” you say, a smile twitching at the corner of your mouth as you catch his wide-eyed, earnest gaze.

he nods, cheeks tinting a bit as he scuffs his sneaker on the ground.

“megumi,” you say, kneeling a little to get on his level, “defending your honor is important. just… maybe don’t go for all the punches next time? sometimes words work too.” you give him a playful nudge.

he nods, seeming satisfied with that answer, then glances over his shoulder. “and don’t tell daddy i asked.”

“your secret’s safe with me,” you whisper back, giving him a conspiratorial wink.

toji’s arms were crossed, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched the little interaction between you and megumi. 

he was always careful about the people around his kid, fiercely protective to the point that very few in his line of work even knew megumi existed. the only ones who had ever met him were gojo and geto — and that was already a stretch.

but something about how you handled the kid’s questions, actually entertained them with the same patience he’d usually summon up himself, caught him off guard. the way you knelt down to answer him, even kept a straight face through the hard-hitting topics of favorite superheroes and cereal brands... it was surprisingly nice. 

almost… reassuring?

ugh, what was he even thinking? you were still the same girl who’d written, and he mentally cringed as he remembered the line, 

“dragons may have claws, but they’re nothing compared to the grip i have on your…” 

yeah, yeah, he really didn’t need to finish that thought. the memory alone had him chuckling under his breath, shaking his head.

of course, that earned him a suspicious glance from both you and megumi.

“what’s so funny?” you asked, brow raised.

“yeah, daddy, why’re you laughing?” megumi chimed in, clearly puzzled.

toji waved a hand dismissively, realizing he’d just blown his cool for no reason. 

“nothin’, don’t worry about it. just thinkin’,” he mumbled, aware he’d probably looked a little unhinged just then. 

maybe he really needed to work on his awareness — or maybe he just needed to get a grip, period.

toji’s mind was doing somersaults, genuinely debating if he could manage both you and megumi tagging along for the afternoon. megumi’s insistence didn’t help; kid was determined that toji should keep you both company for the rest of the day, despite having school hours left. 

“you’ve got work, right?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious. “aren’t you supposed to be off doing big, important actor things?”

toji only smirked, whipping out his phone with the sort of confidence that made it clear he had a workaround for everything. he tapped open a message to gojo, fingers moving fast.

you [11:31 am]: hey. kid’s dragging me to the arcade. need a few hours off. gojo s. [11:33 am]: need or WANT, toji? ;)) you [11:31 am]: like i said, KID is dragging me. gojo s. [11:33 am]: oh sure, blame megumi. what, does he have you wrapped around his little finger or something? you [11:31 am]: think whatever you want, but you’re handling my schedule for the rest of the day. gojo s. [11:33 am]: wait, are you with...the AUTHOR? ;)) you [11:31 am]: quit smiling through text, it’s creepy. gojo s. [11:33 am]: i’ll allow it. but only cause i’m such a good friend.  gojo s. [11:33 am]: tell megumi uncle gojo says hi  gojo s. [11:34 am]: and he owes me 20 bucks. you [11:35 am]: he doesn’t owe you anything. gojo s. [11:35 am]: fine, but bring me something from the prize counter.

satisfied, toji pocketed his phone and shrugged. 

“all right, kid. we’ll hang out for a bit. but i swear if you drag me into any embarrassing games —”

“arcade!” megumi interrupted, not even giving him a chance to finish. “i can show you both that i’m the best at every game! daddy taught me how to play, so you better watch out!”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the kid’s enthusiasm.

“all right, let’s go. but you better not make me look bad, kid,” toji said, smirking down at his son, who was now practically vibrating with eagerness.

“arcade!” megumi yelled again, nearly bouncing as he grabbed your hand and began to lead the way.

megumi barely lets you settle into the leather of the passenger seat before he’s bouncing in the back, practically vibrating with energy as he plugs toji’s phone into the aux. you’re trying to wrap your head around being in toji fushiguro’s car, the man who not only voices the romantic lead in your steamiest, most dramatic book but also owns a luxury car that could probably pay off your loans twice over.

"so, uh... passenger princess, huh?" toji smirks, catching you in mid-thought.

"i… what?" you stammer, feeling the heat creep up as he settles a hand on the wheel with all the nonchalance in the world. “i, uh —” but you’re cut off by megumi excitedly blasting his choice of artist: korn.

"your son listens to korn?" you blurt out, giving toji a mix of awe and disbelief.

toji just raises an eyebrow, deadpanning, “yours doesn’t?”

ouch. okay, fair point. 

because no, you do not have a kid, or a husband, or even a boyfriend…or any romantic prospects, really. 

toji’s question leaves you fidgeting as you try to muster a dignified response.

meanwhile, megumi is full-on screaming to the lyrics of "freak on a leash," and you catch snippets like “something takes a part of me!” which, yeah, relatable — korn is honestly hitting the mood. but of course, toji catches you staring out the window, attempting to look casual as he throws you a side-eye.

"so, what’s got you without a boyfriend?” he asks, way too casually, as if this was a natural segue from whatever korn-fueled karaoke session is happening in the backseat.

you practically choke on air. "what, me? no, i’m...," you laugh awkwardly, shifting in the passenger seat. “besides, i don’t meet many guys. i'm just… you know… doing my thing.”

megumi, pausing his headbanging just for a moment, turns and looks at you with an exaggerated ‘yikes’ face, as if being single was the worst possible fate in his young, eight-year-old eyes. 

but then he shrugs, clearly uninterested in this adult drama and goes back to screaming, “feeling like a freak on a leash!”

toji, still watching you, smirks, “so, doing your ‘thing’ includes no boyfriend, no husband... what, are you just swearing off men?”

"uh, no!” you say quickly, too quickly, and feel your face heat up. “just haven’t... y’know, met anyone worth dating. been busy.”

toji gives a low chuckle, clearly entertained. “busy doing what, writing your ‘torrid love stories’?”

you make a face, biting your lip. 

“they’re not that torrid.” but even as you say it, you hear the echo of a particularly cheesy line you’d written for his character in your novel, which, mortifyingly enough, involved the phrase “my darling flame, you set my very soul alight.”

toji chuckles, as if reading your thoughts. “maybe i’ll get to hear one of those lines in real life someday, princess.”

“can we not call me that while megumi’s in the car?” you mutter, glancing back, only to find megumi fully engrossed in his self-proclaimed vocal talents.

“noted.” toji snickers, shooting you another mischievous look as korn plays on, megumi happily singing about “breaking down” in the back.

“but hey,” toji says smoothly, hand resting on the gearshift, “just so you know, even my son knows a good band when he hears one.”

you roll your eyes at him, managing to mumble, “at least one of you is a bit mature.”

the porsche pulls up to the arcade with enough fanfare that heads start turning even before the engine purrs to a stop. not that the onlookers were ready for what steps out next: a towering, chiseled man looking like he’s on his way to a modeling photoshoot, a cute kid in full confidence mode, and, well… you.

still feeling a little dizzy from the korn concert that just took place, you barely register megumi bolting out of the car with a grin, leaving you and toji to get your bearings. his energy’s practically crackling by the time toji pays for the play card, and you’re pretty sure if he has to wait even one more minute, he’s about to combust.

“okay, okay, slow down, megumi,” you say, trying to keep up as he yanks you to the nearest neon-lit game. 

but the kid isn’t hearing it. he’s already dragging you to one machine, and then the next, moving faster than you can process where you even are. each one is seemingly more intense and blinding than the last, and you’re hit with a sensory overload of neon lights, retro game sounds, and the feel of the arcade carpet sticking just a little too much to your shoes.

toji’s watching the whole ordeal with a bemused smirk. you and his kid are like a whirlwind of neon and laughter, barely stopping to catch your breaths between games. the sight is somehow… comforting. like a scene from a life he hadn’t planned but couldn’t help finding strangely compelling.

but then he catches himself. seriously? 

he shakes his head. this is not the time to get all sentimental over his kid’s new ‘playdate’ or whatever. 

he’s just here because megumi insisted, and maybe he thought it’d be amusing to watch you get dragged around by an eight-year-old with zero restraint. that’s it. 

nothing more.

yeah, right. his internal grumbling comes to an abrupt stop as he watches megumi take your hand and pull you over to a classic claw machine. the kid’s looking up at you with the widest eyes you’ve ever seen, all excitement and pure innocence, like winning one of those knockoff plush toys is the pinnacle of existence.

“you got this?” you ask, grinning at him as he lines up the claw with intense concentration.

“of course! my dad showed me,” he declares, like he’s about to go pro in the claw game league.

toji, watching from a distance, feels a twinge in his chest. 

yeah, he’d shown megumi how to play this game ages ago, more to give him an edge over the other kids than anything else. it was a dad-and-son thing, just the two of them. but seeing megumi look up at you with the same pride and excitement makes him feel… something. 

and he doesn’t know if he likes it.

you’re so focused on megumi’s moves that you don’t notice toji’s slight frown, nor do you hear his quiet mutter of, “this is ridiculous.” 

but when he sees the way your eyes light up as megumi successfully nabs a cheap stuffed animal — a lopsided dinosaur, of all things — and the way you celebrate like he’s won an olympic medal, he feels himself relax, just a little.

he chuckles, shaking his head and crossing his arms as you high-five megumi, both of you beaming over a prize that probably cost less than the game itself. but toji doesn’t move. 

he stands there, rooted, as you two bounce from game to game, his thoughts too jumbled to focus on anything else.

but maybe… maybe that’s okay for now.

toji’s phone buzzes just as he’s leaning against the side of a vintage racing game, watching you and megumi practically lighting up the whole arcade with your laughter. he glances down to see satoru’s name pop up on the screen, already feeling a headache brewing.

gojo s. [12:20 pm]: so, arcade? 😏 you [12:20 pm]: yeah, i just told you. gojo s. [12:20 pm]: nah, i mean WHY the arcade? what are we celebrating here, toji? ;)) you [12:21 pm]: why does it matter gojo s. [12:21 pm]: CUZZZZ gojo s. [12:21 pm]: lemme guess, megumi's there with her now, right?  gojo s. [12:22 pm]: bet they’re having the time of their lives, while YOU gojo s. [12:22 pm]: you’re just there all moody on the sidelines😔

toji glances up at you and megumi, who’ve now moved on to a skee-ball machine, both cheering as you score a perfect 50-point throw.

you [12:23 pm]: like i said, work stuff. gojo s. [12:24 pm]: HAHA. work stuff, right.  gojo s. [12:24 pm]: work stuff that has megumi running around grinning like that.  gojo s. [12:25 pm]: bro gojo s. [12:25 pm]: you’re terrible at lying.  gojo s. [12:26 pm]: she’s a keeper if she can deal with YOU you [12:26 pm]: keep dreaming.

he slips his phone back into his pocket, unable to shake off the grin creeping onto his face as he watches you high-five megumi. the kid’s happier than he’s seen in ages, and he…

well, he can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed watching anyone just being with his kid.

toji stands back, taking in the moment — megumi’s laughter echoing through the arcade, your smile as you lift him up with an ease that has the kid giggling uncontrollably — and for some reason, his mind has turned the whole scene into a rom-com montage.

you are the dancing queen…

it’s absurd, really. 

he doesn’t even like abba. but there it is, the stupid song playing in his head, all set to the image of you holding his son, twirling him like he weighs nothing, both of you in fits of laughter.

young and sweet, only seventeen…

and for a split second, his heart does this awkward little stutter. 

he chalks it up to the neon lights. 

or maybe the greasy smell of the arcade food messing with his senses. but as he watches you hold megumi up, almost as if he’s flying, he can’t ignore that ridiculous, cheesy pull in his chest.

feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah...

oh god. 

is he seriously catching himself grinning at the way you’re both trying to get him to join in? megumi’s little hand reaches out, beckoning him over, and you’re giving him that smile, that “come on, get over here, big guy” look.

you can dance, you can jive…

the song hits that soaring note in his head just as he finally gives in and starts to walk over, and his pulse actually picks up, as if he’s not just at some run-down arcade but in the middle of some ridiculously sappy rom-com finale.

having the time of your life…

and then megumi is shrieking again, calling, “dad, hurry up!” like it’s life or death, and you’re beaming at him with that mischievous, encouraging look.

toji sighs, shaking his head at himself. 

just great. 

the two of you have officially dragged him into your world, soundtrack and all.

toji's trying his best to lock in. 

but as he walks out of the arcade — juggling not one, but four oversized plushies, two fancy new lego sets, a slinky, a bouncy ball, some glow-in-the-dark slime, and a rainbow slap bracelet — he can’t help but snort at the sheer ridiculousness of it. 

between his loaded arms and megumi curled up fast asleep in yours, it’s a scene straight out of one of those cheesy family movies.

he shakes his head, trying to push down that weirdly warm feeling creeping up on him. 

stay focused, toji. 

he doesn't need any sappy feelings right now. he's a single dad with a kid and a job, not some washed-up rom-com character, damn it. 

but watching you gently adjust megumi as he drools onto your shoulder, snuggling deeper into the crook of your arm as you carefully slide into the backseat, it’s hard not to feel that tug again.

ugh, he thinks, climbing into the driver’s seat as you buckle up up front, giving him a soft, tired smile. 

“never held a kid before, huh?” he teases, eyes glancing from the road to the rearview mirror, where megumi’s still dozing, soft breaths muffling against your arm.

“nope,” you shrug, but there’s a softness to your voice as you gently rub megumi’s back, “first time for everything, i guess.”

toji’s heart does that weird skip thing again. 

oh god, he thinks, gripping the wheel a little tighter as he tries to ignore the sappy old man vibe overtaking him.

the air in the car feels... charged, but it’s not like either of you are exactly leaning into the tension. instead, you both sit in this weird, awkward silence, save for the quiet hum of the radio, like you’re suddenly too aware of just being there with each other.

and then, as if the universe wanted to toy with you, iris by the goo goo dolls starts playing. 

oh, god. you immediately wish you could just evaporate into the passenger seat.

“...and i’d give up forever to touch you…” the lyrics croon, filling the silence, and you can practically feel the heat crawling up your cheeks.

toji clears his throat, obviously catching it too. “radio’s on a roll, huh?”

“yep,” you say, managing a weak laugh. “i mean, this is classic… everyone listens to goo goo dolls in, uh, total silence in the car with their coworker, right?”

he glances at you, a rare, subtle smile ghosting on his lips. “totally normal.”

“and i don’t want the world to see me… ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”

you glance out the window, eyes focused anywhere but on him, biting back a laugh at how the song somehow keeps getting more dramatic. like, who’s writing this scene, seriously?

“just tell me where to turn,” toji says, breaking through your internal monologue, and you do, mentioning a landmark close to home, hoping he’ll take the hint.

but toji only raises an eyebrow. “near it? nah. i’m dropping you at the door.”

“oh, no, that’s really fine —” you start, but he’s already shaking his head.

“don’t worry about it,” he insists, a smirk in his voice. “besides, i remember where you live. from, you know… last time.”

wait. last time? as in… when you were embarrassingly, unapologetically wasted that night?

you want to crawl under the seat as the lyrics continue, “when everything’s made to be broken…”

so when toji pulls up in front of your apartment, there’s this odd feeling hanging in the air. you catch yourself wanting to... linger, just a little longer, even if you’re home. 

and lowkey? 

so does toji. 

it’s like the two of you have hit this weird teenage crush level of awkward — just leaning, leaning, like there’s some invisible string pulling you closer.

he’s looking at you, and you’re looking at him, and you’re both just… stuck there. you can’t even bring yourself to reach for the door handle, and it’s the same for him.

but right as the moment peaks, a tiny, innocent voice cuts through from the backseat. “are you two going to kiss?”

megumi’s question hangs there, blunt and childlike, breaking whatever spell had you both frozen. you both jolt back, blinking as if you just woke up.

“what? no!” you blurt, practically tripping over your own denial. 

your face feels like it’s about to catch fire.

toji coughs, rubbing the back of his neck, just barely suppressing a chuckle.

“kid’s got a helluva imagination,” he mutters, eyes anywhere but on you.

as you finally reach for the door handle, ready to slip out and say your goodbyes, you hear a little sniffle from the backseat.

“wait…” megumi’s voice is tiny, almost shaky. you turn around, and to your surprise, his face is scrunched up, his eyes glistening with tears that he’s trying so hard to hold back.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, twisting around in your seat to face him. “i’ll see you again, kiddo.”

but his lower lip wobbles, and suddenly he bursts into full-on tears, clutching the giant plushie he won at the arcade. “b-but i don’t want you to leave!” he sobs, voice cracking. “can’t you stay just a little longer?”

toji’s eyes widen; he looks genuinely shocked. 

“megumi, you’re fine, she’s not going anywhere forever. what’s gotten into you?” he tries to keep his tone steady, but there’s an undercurrent of surprise. 

megumi doesn’t cry. 

ever. 

this is new territory.

megumi just shakes his head, burying his face into the plushie. “but she’s nice,” he mumbles, muffled but insistent. “and she plays games with me and —” he peeks out from the plushie with red, teary eyes. “and she talks to me like you do.”

you feel something stir in your chest at his words, this overwhelming urge to hug him even though you’d sworn up and down just an hour ago you didn’t know how to handle kids.

“aw, megumi,” you say softly, reaching over and giving his little hand a squeeze. “i’ll still see you, i promise. maybe we can even play again sometime, okay?”

“but you’re leaving now,” he says, his voice quivering, clutching your hand with a desperation that tugs at your heart. 

“and daddy didn’t even kiss you.”

the absolute silence that follows is deafening. 

you feel your face go redder than it’s ever been, and a glance at toji shows he’s equally flustered, mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find some way to steer this conversation back to normal.

“whoa, hey now,” toji says, forcing a laugh as he clears his throat. “that’s, uh — that’s not how it works, kid.” he ruffles megumi’s hair a little too hard, clearly floundering. “and hey, don’t go crying over someone just leaving for the night, you’re stronger than that.”

“i don’t care,” megumi sniffles, clutching your hand tighter. “i like her. and she makes you smile.”

toji freezes, the color draining from his face for just a split second. 

makes him smile. 

he doesn’t even realize he’s been smiling, maybe more in one day than he has in months. he glances at you, brow furrowed like he’s trying to make sense of it himself.

“well…” toji’s voice is softer now, almost cautious, like he’s testing out words he hasn’t said in a long time. “

maybe… maybe she could come around again. if she wants to, that is.”

“i do.” you answer without thinking, your gaze drifting to megumi’s tear-streaked face, which immediately lights up.

“really?” megumi’s eyes shine, practically bouncing in his seat. “you promise?”

“i promise,” you say with a smile, giving him a reassuring nod. “as long as it’s okay with you and your dad, of course.”

“’s fine,” toji grumbles, running a hand over his face to hide his slight grin. “besides, someone’s gotta teach you a lesson or two at the arcade next time.”

“is that a challenge, toji?” you quip, smirking. “because if i remember right, megumi here got more tickets than both of us combined.”

“that’s because i taught him everything he knows,” toji scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe he’s even entertaining this.

megumi sniffles one last time, his eyes practically glowing with happiness. “then… you’ll come over soon, right?”

“absolutely,” you say, warmth bubbling up in your chest as you meet his hopeful gaze. “but only if you promise to keep practicing at the arcade. gotta keep that winning streak going, right?”

megumi grins, finally letting go of your hand as he settles back with a contented sigh. “deal.”

toji just shakes his head, muttering something about the “drama” gene clearly skipping a generation, though the smile tugging at his lips says otherwise.

as you unbuckle your seatbelt, ready to say goodbye, you feel the car click with the unmistakable sound of the child lock. you glance back at megumi, who’s nodding off against his plushie pile, and back at toji, who’s already climbing out to walk you up to your door. 

gentlemanly of him, sure. 

though, the way his eyes linger on you… there’s more to it than that.

“i could’ve walked myself, you know,” you say, falling into step beside him as you head up to your building. “it’s not that far.”

“maybe i just felt like making sure you didn’t trip and embarrass yourself,” he shoots back, smirking as he nudges your shoulder.

“very chivalrous, fushiguro,” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning anyway. “honestly, you’re like a walking textbook definition of ‘gentleman.’”

“yeah, well,” he clears his throat, looking just a bit smug. “maybe i was raised right. or maybe,” his voice drops a little lower, “i just wanted an excuse to stick around a little longer.”

you blink, caught off guard by the soft rasp in his voice, the way his eyes are just a bit darker under the porch light.

“oh,” is all you manage, though your heartbeat’s doing a little somersault. “well… uh. here’s my door.”

“guess it is,” he murmurs, eyes glinting as he takes a step closer, leaning against the doorframe like he’s meant to be there, like he’s settled in the idea of being right here, with you. 

“y’know… not a bad place to end the night.”

“yeah,” you say, feeling the words catch in your throat as you gaze up at him, taking in every detail, every shadow. “definitely not bad.”

the two of you are just standing there, a little too close, the space between you narrowing with every unspoken word. he glances down at your lips, and your pulse spikes — he’s thinking it too, right? but just as the moment seems to reach its tipping point, toji smirks, a flash of mischief in his eyes.

“you know,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “still can’t believe you’re the same girl who wrote that… what was it again?” he chuckles, clearly remembering. “oh, right — ‘her legs wrapped around him like a vice, his name spilling from her lips like honey’.”

your face goes nuclear. 

that line. 

of all the lines, that one?

“you… you remember that?” you manage, mortified.

“’course i remember,” he says, that smug smirk firmly in place. “you think i just skimmed through your stuff?”

“well — i — ” your words are a mess, barely coherent. “i mean, i just thought —”

“nah, i’ve been reading it all.” his voice is low, almost a whisper as he leans just a little closer, his fingers lightly brushing your arm. “you’ve got quite the imagination.”

“s-shut up,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze. “i was just… doing my job.”

“i know,” he says, voice soft but unyielding. “you’ve got talent.”

there’s a beat, silence stretching between you, the weight of his words settling over the both of you.

“...and you’ve got this whole heartthrob thing going for you,” you blurt out, finally meeting his eyes with a nervous laugh. “kind of makes it hard to believe you’re my colleague.”

“heartthrob, huh?” he smirks, voice dipping lower as his fingers drift to your chin, tilting your face up. 

“so that’s what you think of me?”

“i — i mean…” you stammer, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn. “maybe a little. just… a tiny bit.”

“tiny?” he murmurs, his lips barely an inch away. “could’ve sworn you looked a little more than just ‘tiny’ interested.”

“oh yeah?” your voice is a whisper now, almost breathless as you feel his breath on your skin, his gaze never wavering. “what if i was?”

“then i’d probably do this,” he mutters, his hand sliding up to cradle your face, and before you know it, his lips are on yours, soft and warm and impossibly gentle.

your breath catches, and instinctively, you lean into him, letting his kiss deepen, his hand tracing slow, lazy patterns against your cheek. it’s everything you’d imagined and somehow even better, his presence grounding and electric all at once.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes soft but searching. “so… do i still get to be a heartthrob?”

“only if i still get to be the girl with the cringe smut,” you murmur back, grinning like an idiot.

“deal,” he says, chuckling as he pulls you in for another kiss, his lips brushing yours like a promise.

ah, shit.

as toji slips back into the car, he barely manages to close the door before megumi’s voice hits him like a lightning bolt.

“daddy kissed the pretty lady!” megumi shrieks, pointing an accusatory finger from the backseat. “i saw it! you have that weird face on!”

toji’s eyebrows shoot up. “weird face? what weird face?” he tries to play it cool, adjusting the rearview mirror, but the ghost of that kiss is still painted on his lips, his pulse betraying him with every beat.

“that smile,” megumi says, wrinkling his nose in a perfect mirror of his dad’s usual expression of disdain. “you look like a… like a…” he pauses, searching for the right words. “...like a love puppy!”

toji chokes, stifling a laugh. “a love puppy? where the hell did you get that from?”

“it’s a thing, daddy,” megumi huffs, crossing his arms. “you have that goofy look, and your face is all soft. you only look like that when you’re being weird.”

“me? weird?” toji glances in the mirror, catching megumi’s glare. “kid, i think you’ve got this all wrong.”

“no, i don’t!” megumi insists, practically bouncing in his seat. “you were all ‘goo-goo eyes’ and ‘smoochy-smoochy’ and ‘mwah mwah mwah!’” he makes exaggerated kissing sounds, complete with squished-up lips and hand gestures, utterly scandalized by his dad’s sudden transformation.

“alright, alright, enough with the ‘mwah mwah.’” toji tries to suppress a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “you’ve been watching too many cartoons.”

megumi shakes his head, his expression serious. “nope. i knew it. i knew you liked her.” he narrows his eyes, as if seeing through toji’s very soul. “so… are you gonna marry her?”

toji’s eyes go wide. 

“whoa, whoa, hold on. nobody said anything about marriage.”

“but if you kiss someone, that means you wanna be with them forever, right?” megumi asks earnestly, looking way too wise for his age.

toji stares ahead, caught off-guard by the kid’s earnestness. 

that kiss… he didn’t plan it. he didn’t even know he was going to do it until he’d leaned in, felt the spark pull him closer. but now? 

yeah, the idea of just walking away feels… wrong. he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his mind racing.

“kid, sometimes people just… feel things, okay?” he says, his voice softer, more introspective. “even if they don’t really know why.”

megumi tilts his head, watching his dad closely. “so you do like her, then?”

toji snorts, pulling the car out onto the road. “alright, detective, settle down back there. no more snooping.”

they drive in a comfortable silence for a moment, but the radio has other plans. 

as if on cue, the familiar, aching chords of iris by the goo goo dolls come through the speakers, and toji swears he could feel the universe laughing at him.

“and i don’t want the world to see me, ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”

toji clenches his jaw, feeling the lyrics press into him, each line stirring something restless and warm in his chest. he’s always been a guy with his walls up, always knew the stakes were too high to let anyone in. 

but tonight… tonight, he let his guard down. just for a second. 

he kissed you, tasted the softness of your lips, and the spark left him reeling.

“when everything’s meant to be broken, i just want you to know who i am…”

“daddy?” megumi’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “do you think… maybe you could see her again? so she could come play with us?”

toji blinks, glancing at megumi in the rearview mirror. “you really like her, huh?”

megumi nods vigorously. “yeah! she’s… nice. and fun.” his face softens. “and… she made you look happy.”

toji’s heart gives a strange, unfamiliar twist at that. 

happy, huh? 

he’s been around the block long enough to know that happiness isn’t exactly his best friend. but sitting here, listening to megumi, feeling that residual warmth from your kiss… it makes him wonder. 

wonder what life could look like with you in it.

but he pushes the thought away, focusing on the road. doesn’t change the fact that you’re just his colleague. right?

“and i’d give up forever to touch you…”

ugh.

he shifts uncomfortably, hoping megumi doesn’t notice his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. 

that kiss wasn’t just some fleeting thing — he’d known it the second he felt the warmth of you linger even after pulling away. the idea of letting you go now feels… impossible. something’s tugging him back, making him want more.

“hey, daddy,” megumi pipes up again, breaking toji’s brooding. “you got that look again.”

“what look?” toji mutters, trying to focus on anything but the goofy grin creeping back onto his face.

megumi smirks, mimicking toji’s soft expression. “that ‘i kissed a pretty lady’ look!”

toji laughs, shaking his head as he glances at megumi in the rearview mirror. “alright, alright. i guess you caught me.”

and as he drives home, the final notes of iris playing softly through the car, he can’t shake the feeling that this… whatever this is… isn’t something he’s ready to let go of.

ah, shit.

as soon as toji sets megumi down on his bed, tucking him in amongst the mountain of ridiculous plushies he’d somehow won at the arcade, he heads back to his room. sliding his phone out, he finds himself doing something he never thought he’d do: texting gojo. of all people.

with a reluctant sigh, he taps out a message, feeling a pang of embarrassment he can’t shake.

you [8:47 pm]: how long’s her contract with gojo sonic?

a moment later, he watches the screen, regretting even reaching out. but, of course, gojo wastes no time with a reply.

gojo s. [8:50 pm]: ohohohohooooo her contract???  gojo s. [8:50 pm]: i knew it. you’re smitten. you [8:51 pm]: don’t start. gojo s. [8:51 pm]: too late! c’mon, dish it out, big guy.  gojo s. [8:51 pm]: you guys had a moment, huh? the chemistry finally snapped? what’d ya do, kiss her?

toji clenches his jaw, hesitating before typing back. his thumb hovers, wondering how much grief he’d get for saying yes. finally, he mutters a curse under his breath and just goes for it.

you [8:53 pm]: ...yeah, i kissed her. happy?

he can practically feel gojo’s cackle vibrating through the phone.

gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WHAT???  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WAIT.  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: oh, i need details.  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: full play-by-play.  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: like was it one of those slow, cinematic moments?  gojo s. [8:54 pm]: or was it a grab and smooch kinda deal??

toji rolls his eyes, fighting off a grin he refuses to admit is there. of all the reactions, he’d been prepared for gojo’s nosiness, but it’s still as annoying as ever.

you [8:55 pm]: shut it. i already said too much. gojo s. [8:55 pm]: pfffff as if i’m letting you get away with that tidbit and no context.  gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did she look at you all wide-eyed?  gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did you do that thing with your voice??  gojo s. [8:56 pm]: or was it just an accidental, “oh no, we tripped into each other’s faces” sorta thing?

toji rubs his temples, trying to block out how much his stupid heart rate picks up just remembering the way you looked up at him, the softness of your lips, the way it all felt so natural. he shakes his head, forcing the memory aside.

you [8:57 pm]: none of your business, and it’s private.  you [8:57 pm]: don’t you dare send any of this to suguru. gojo s. [8:57 pm]: oh relax! suguru’s not that nosy.  gojo s. [8:57 pm]: okay maybe he is.  gojo s. [8:58 pm]: but he’s a romantic.  gojo s. [8:58 pm]: think of it as getting free relationship coaching!! you [9:00 pm]: i swear to god satoru i’ll leave the company if you spill this.

there’s a pause, and for a second toji hopes that maybe he’s scared gojo off. 

but, predictably, the next message makes his blood pressure spike.

gojo s. [9:05 pm]: ohhhhh no no you’re not getting off that easy.  gojo s. [9:05 pm]: i’m calling dibs on being the flower girl at your wedding. suguru can be the maid of honor.  gojo s. [9:06 pm]: no nvm he’d wanna be the best man gojo s. [9:06 pm]: I’LL GET MEGUMI TO CARRY THE RINGS gojo s. [9:06 pm]: genius.

toji practically growls at his phone, already regretting every second of this conversation.

you [9:07 pm]: i’ll delete this whole damn thread. this never happened, got it? gojo s. [9:09 pm]: aww, toji bear, don’t be like that. i’ll take care of your little love story for you, promise. consider me your personal wingman.  gojo s. [9:10 pm]: now tell me this — when’s round two of smooch central happening? you [9:11 pm]: goodnight, satoru.

and with that, he shoves his phone onto his nightstand, rubbing his face with a hand. he can still feel the lingering warmth of that kiss, the way his heart skipped, the unexpected tenderness that’s lodged itself in his mind. 

stupid.

he shouldn’t have even told gojo.

but as much as he regrets letting it slip, he doesn’t regret the kiss itself. 

not even a bit.

as soon as you slam your door shut, you just… stand there for a minute, heart racing, and press your fingers to your lips like it’ll somehow reverse what just happened. 

you kissed toji fushiguro. 

the toji fushiguro.

colleague extraordinaire, with biceps that could probably benchpress your entire life’s savings, and that smirk… oh god, that smirk that had you in a daze.

but the problem? 

there was a mini him there. 

a little him with matching black hair and a sharp gaze. 

you thought he was, like, the cool uncle? but… he’s a dad? 

and if he’s a dad… does that mean he’s married? are you the other woman?!

you pace around, practically stomping into the carpet. 

“okay, okay, let’s think this through,” you mutter, putting your hands on your hips. 

“he… he could be a single dad, right? it’s 2024, it’s not that weird for people to have kids without, like, commitment commitments. but then again, he does look like the type who’d… i don’t know, maybe be exclusive? probably?”

your brain is racing, and you’re spinning yourself into circles. 

“i mean, i haven’t seen a ring on his finger… but maybe he just doesn’t wear it?” you plop down on your couch, practically sinking into it as you cover your face with both hands.

ugh.

“did i just kiss a married man? or worse… what if he’s, like, engaged? or has a live-in girlfriend? or — oh my god, what if he’s in some high-profile relationship and i just stepped into the middle of it? —”

you groan, flopping back. “but he… he definitely leaned in first. i’m not hallucinating. he did! but then, if he’s that willing to kiss me, does that mean he’s… a cheater?”

you sit up and shake your head, wide-eyed. “okay, no, i refuse to believe that toji fushiguro, mr. brooding and brooding-er with a kid who listens to korn, is a cheater. there’s no way… right?”

your own voice is almost pleading as you try to convince yourself, pacing again. 

“i mean, maybe he’s just… really, really committed to… being mysterious. yeah, that makes sense. he’s keeping everything a secret, so that just leaves me spiraling about him… perfect. just perfect.”

you smack a hand against your forehead. “why couldn’t i have asked literally any of this earlier?” you shake your head. “right, because i was too busy kissing him.”

you throw yourself back onto the couch and stare at the ceiling, the whole thing replaying in your head. 

that look he gave you, the warmth of his hand on your back…

stop.

but it’s too late. your brain keeps running with it.

“what if… what if he has no idea i’m freaking out?” you frown. “oh, he probably doesn’t. and here i am, making a whole drama out of one kiss.” you let out a deep sigh.

you flop onto your bed, heart still pounding, and stare up at the ceiling, fingers absently grazing your lips. 

burning loins, they said. melting from one kiss, they said. 

well, no one exactly said that — except every steamy novel you’ve ever read or written, but that’s beside the point.

you groan, kicking your feet up in frustration. this isn’t one of your own novels! it’s supposed to be real life! but now here you are, in the aftermath of what was arguably the best kiss you’ve ever had, practically combusting at the memory of it.

“if one kiss with toji — no, any man — can get me this hot and bothered, how am i supposed to handle it if i ever… you know…” your voice trails off, and you turn over, burying your face into the pillow as if it’ll smother the absurd train of thought. 

but then, just as you start to get your mind off it, his face pops back up in your head.

“oh god,” you mumble, pulling the pillow over your face. “this is pathetic.” you roll over again, laughing helplessly to yourself. 

if this is what one or two kisses do to me… what’ll happen if we actually have sex?

your eyes snap open. “okay, no. no! i didn’t mean toji, i meant, like… any guy! any guy at all! but, oh god, why is it always him?!”

you stare at the ceiling, huffing as your brain keeps looping back to him. 

his stupidly attractive smirk, the way his hand was firm but gentle on your back, how he looked at you as if you were his next breath. 

girl, get a grip.

“this is ridiculous,” you mutter, swatting at your face like it’ll erase his image from your mind. but it doesn’t work; he’s right there, all hot and smug in your imagination. ugh, this isn’t fair!

it’s like all those countless hours you spent spinning erotic fantasies are coming back to haunt you — and in the most inconvenient, infuriating way possible. you scrunch up your face, realizing with mild horror that maybe… just maybe… you wrote this scenario into existence for yourself.

“oh no… is this karma?” you groan, curling up and swatting the air in helpless embarrassment. “girl, this is not supposed to happen in real life. or with toji.”

but there it is: his face, and your wildly racing heart, and the undeniable, excruciating heat pooling in your belly that refuses to quit.

but even with the spiraling, there’s one thing you can’t deny: as much as it’s driving you crazy, as much as you’re practically scaring yourself into thinking you’ve just made the worst mistake of your life…

you kinda don’t regret it. and that’s the scariest part.

ah, shit.

you step into gojo-sonic, clutching your bag with a little more intensity than usual, and it’s as if you’ve entered an alternate dimension. 

the energy is somehow… different. you expect to be greeted with the usual casual nods and waves, but instead, gojo is practically skipping toward you, arms spread wide like he’s welcoming the new queen of the recording studio.

“there she is! our star of the show, our resident heart-throb wrangler!” he coos, louder than necessary. his grin is blinding, and you’re caught between the urge to backpedal out of the building or dive under the nearest desk.

“uh… good morning?” you reply, more like a question than a statement, glancing around to see if anyone else is picking up on his hyperness. it’s like he’s had twelve cups of coffee or ten bags of skittles. “gojo, you’re… kind of extra today.”

“extra? extra?” he throws a hand over his heart, eyes gleaming. “honey, i’m never just ‘extra.’ i am exactly the right amount of gojo for the occasion.”

“and what occasion is that, exactly?”

“oh, nothing much, just a certain someone having an… enlightening encounter last night,” he says with a wink so exaggerated it looks like he’s trying to shoo a bug off his face.

you stiffen. “wait, how do you…?”

“oh, come on,” he waves it off, laughing. “you think you can keep something like that from me? i mean, i might be blessed with an enormous amount of talent, looks, and charisma, but i also happen to have eyes and ears everywhere.” he taps his temple, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

“seriously?” you glance around, your stomach sinking a little, looking for any sign of smirking coworkers or curious eyes, but everyone’s just… normal? going about their business, not sparing you a second glance. relief washes over you, only to be swept away by gojo’s piercing stare.

“oh, don’t worry. i haven’t shared your scandalous rendezvous with the world. only i am privy to this delightful information — for now,” he adds, wagging a finger. “and don’t look so shocked! nothing juicy stays hidden from me for long. i know all the company secrets.”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks, equal parts exasperated and embarrassed. “gojo, it wasn’t even that big of a deal. it’s not like…” you trail off, realizing he’s hanging on to your every word, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“uh-huh,” he drawls, drawing the word out. “not a big deal, you say? then why do you look like you’re about to start sweating bullets?”

“i’m not sweating bullets,” you say through clenched teeth, then give in and sigh. “look, we just… it was just a… i mean, we’re colleagues, and things got a little… friendly. it doesn’t have to mean anything!”

gojo gasps, mock-horrified. “oh, but darling, this is precisely why it’s so interesting! you, of all people, getting caught up with toji fushiguro? and here i thought you’d sworn off office romances.”

“it’s not an office romance,” you insist, voice practically a whisper. “we just… kissed. once. or twice. maybe. but it doesn’t mean anything!”

gojo leans in, conspiratorially. “and yet you look ready to combust from the inside out just talking about it.”

you huff, throwing him a half-hearted glare. “maybe it’s because someone is making this into a bigger deal than it actually is.”

“you wound me!” he presses a hand dramatically to his chest, giving you an exaggerated pout. “but don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me. i only told you so you’d know that i know. and, you know, to make things extra awkward in case mr. heart-throb walks in.”

“oh, so you’re really just out to make my life difficult?”

he grins, all teeth. “precisely.”

just then, as if summoned by some cruel twist of fate, toji strolls in. he’s the absolute picture of normalcy, no hint whatsoever of last night’s… moment. 

in fact, he gives you a polite nod, a polite nod, as if he hadn’t had you pressed against your own door just hours ago.

“morning,” he says casually, voice smooth, tone nonchalant. he doesn’t even so much as smirk.

you nearly choke. polite nod? normal greeting? did he forget the entire thing? 

“oh, morning,” you manage, clearing your throat, feeling like you’re about to combust again.

gojo, however, is having the time of his life. he’s practically vibrating next to you, watching the exchange with glee.

“morninggg, fushiguro,” he greets toji, voice syrupy with unrestrained glee. “any exciting news today?”

toji raises an eyebrow, shooting him a confused look. “uh, no? everything’s pretty normal.” his eyes flick over to you, calm, almost neutral, as if he hadn’t kissed you senseless just last night.

you clench your jaw. is he really going to act like this? you nearly feel like gaslighting yourself into thinking last night never happened. maybe you just dreamed it, right?

toji’s gaze flicks away from you, unperturbed, as he moves over to get his things ready for the day’s recording. and that’s when gojo leans over and mutters under his breath, “you sure you don’t want to just… remind him?”

“i hate you,” you mutter back, trying not to smile, knowing that he’s secretly rooting for you to fall flat on your face with this whole ordeal.

“i live for your misery, my friend,” he replies with a wink.

meanwhile, toji was absolutely in another dimension of romcom chaos himself, feeling like some kind of high school kid who just had his first crush. he woke up grinning, actually giggling as he got dressed. 

giggling. when was the last time he did that? 

he nearly skipped out the door, and on his drive to work, he found himself humming, humming, to his car stereo like some lovestruck fool. and he didn’t stop there. oh no. 

by the time he reached gojo-sonic, he’d already run through a few extra vocal warm-ups in the car — something he never did this early. he cleared his throat and ran through his usual lines twice, even testing his pitch a bit. no, not because he wanted to be extra smooth today, of course not. he was doing it for the… for the paycheck. 

definitely.

but as soon as he walked into the studio, and he saw you standing there beside gojo, looking all kinds of pretty and polished… he practically heard violins. except no, it wasn’t violins. 

it was, somehow, worse.

his mind cued up dancing queen.

“no. nope. nope.” he muttered under his breath, trying to swat the ridiculous soundtrack out of his mind. but it wouldn’t stop. 

“dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine, oh, yeah….”

why, in the name of all things sacred, was his brain doing this to him? he was toji fushiguro, not some idiot falling over his own feet for a girl at work. he gave himself a good shake, squared his shoulders, and tried to keep his composure. yet every time he caught your eye, his chest did a little flip — and dammit if he didn’t want to just pick you up and give you another kiss right then and there.

“morning,” he forced out, nodding as casually as he could.

and there you were, gaping back with that hint of nervousness, looking like you might combust from just a regular “good morning.” 

god, it was almost cute enough to make him actually laugh out loud.

“she’s just a colleague,” he reminded himself, over and over again, as he worked to keep the grin off his face. “a colleague. not some romcom lead you just made out with in front of her apartment.”

yet the way dancing queen kept droning in his head, as if mocking his every move? toji was seriously questioning whether he’d woken up in some kind of alternate reality.

and he just knew gojo was watching the whole thing with a smug look, likely dying to crack a joke, or worse, belt out dancing queen if he somehow figured out what was in toji’s head. 

and knowing gojo? he probably already had.

the studio door clicked shut as gojo swept out with an exaggerated bow, holding up his finger in a silent “one minute” before he launched into his call with suguru in a voice loud enough to be heard two floors down. gojo was probably already going on about the “incredible chemistry” between his favorite team members, or whatever nonsense he’d decided on for today. 

and with him out of the room, it was just you and toji. 

alone. 

in silence.

you shifted on your feet, eyes darting everywhere except directly at him, yet somehow landing right back on him. it was like your brain had a toji magnet switched on, and no matter how hard you tried to look elsewhere, you found yourself glancing back at him.

finally, the quiet got so charged that you both ended up blurting out at the exact same time —

“are you single?”

you both froze, then looked at each other, wide-eyed, like you couldn’t believe you’d just asked that out loud.

“uh,” toji coughed, scratching the back of his neck. “well. yeah, i am. single, that is.

“oh.” you tried to act cool, but it came out as a slightly breathless squeak. “good to know.”

“and you?” he asked, voice low, almost cautious, as if bracing himself for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

“also single,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “which… is also good to know.”

there was a beat of quiet where you both just kind of looked at each other, a half-smile creeping onto his face as you kept shifting on your feet, practically melting under the intensity of his gaze.

“so…” you cleared your throat, your hands fidgeting a little as you gathered the nerve to ask the next thing. “didn’t know you had a kid.”

“oh, yeah.” toji chuckled, a hint of fondness lighting up his expression as he thought of his son. “he’s my kid, alright. handful and a half, that one.”

“he’s adorable.” you smiled, thinking back to the mini toji who had totally stolen your heart. “how old is he?”

“eight.” toji’s voice softened, a rare warmth in his tone that you’d never heard before. “he, uh… he means a lot to me. not that i’d ever tell him that, though. don’t want him thinking he’s got me wrapped around his little finger or anything.”

you laughed, picturing the little boy with his big grin and fearless energy. “something tells me he already knows.”

“yeah, probably.” toji laughed too, and for a moment, there was an ease between you, a shared warmth that made the whole moment feel so… natural.

“so… um, are you, like… a single dad?” you asked, careful with your words, not wanting to pry too deeply.

“yeah.” his answer was simple, but there was a weight to it. “just me and the kid. been that way for a while.”

“that’s…” you bit your lip, not sure what to say without sounding weirdly sentimental. “that’s admirable. megumi’s lucky to have you.

“i don’t know about all that,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the praise but unable to hide a small smile. “just doing what i can, you know?”

“still,” you said, feeling a swell of admiration you hadn’t expected. “it’s impressive. and honestly… seeing you with him yesterday? it was… kinda heartwarming.”

toji looked at you, eyes softening in a way that made your heart stutter. 

“thanks,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “means a lot, hearing that.”

the two of you stood there, closer than you realized, in this weird bubble where everything felt warm and intense and perfect. just as you felt that strange magnetic pull drawing you closer, like maybe you’d just close the gap and —

the studio door banged open.

“don’t stop on my account!” gojo sing-songed, practically sashaying back into the room, a smirk plastered across his face.

you both leaped back, clearing your throats and suddenly finding the walls, the floor, anything else in the room utterly fascinating.

“alright, lovebirds, let’s get this recording started, shall we?” gojo grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked between the two of you, not even pretending he hadn’t just caught a whole moment.

toji settled into the recording booth, leaning back in the chair with the script in hand, his voice dipping to that low, gravelly tone that made every line sound like an invitation.

“so,” he began, speaking as the dragon king to the main character in the script, his words practically dripping with intensity, “you think you can resist me? i see right through you… even the bravest warriors have trembled at my touch.”

your breath caught as he delivered the line, eyes wide as you watched him through the glass. 

you couldn’t help it — his character was practically staring into your soul, voice thick and slow, practically wrapping around each word.

“do you know what happens to those who challenge me?” toji continued, his eyes narrowing as he held the script in one hand, his gaze piercing. “they are forced to surrender… one way or another.”

outside the booth, you practically felt yourself melting, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you fidgeted with the edge of your shirt. 

toji’s voice, his delivery — it was all too much. how was it possible for him to sound that… that intense? it was like he was actually speaking to you.

“ah, beautiful.” gojo, standing beside you, broke in with a theatrical sigh. “our dragon king sounds magnificent, doesn’t he? i could practically faint!”

you shot him a quick glare, barely masking a smirk. “keep it down, gojo. he’s in the middle of it.”

“oh, i’m just here to appreciate the artistry,” gojo whispered back, feigning innocence as he leaned in to watch, hands clasped together dramatically.

“the choice is yours,” toji went on, his voice softer now, laced with something tender that made it impossible to look away. “join me… or keep pretending this —” he emphasized the word, letting it linger “ — isn’t exactly what you’ve been wanting.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze even through the glass. 

was he delivering that line as the dragon king or as… well, toji?

but then —

“ohhhh!” gojo chimed in loudly, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck by an arrow. “the passion! the romance! our hero’s heart is pounding!”

toji paused, rolling his eyes as he looked at gojo through the glass. “you really gonna keep interrupting, gojo?”

“oh, don’t mind me,” gojo said, waving a hand. “i’m simply enjoying the magic in the air! please, carry on. do go on.” he pretended to dab at his eyes. “so moving.”

toji gave a small sigh but threw you a barely-there smile before settling back into character.

“and when you finally stop running…” his voice softened, a quiet urgency threading through it. 

“i’ll be here, waiting… because you belong to me, whether you admit it or not.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you found yourself leaning in, hanging onto every word, caught up in the sheer pull of his voice. 

you didn’t know if it was his talent as a voice actor, the lines he was reading, or him, but every word was drawing you in deeper, bit by bit.

“ah, what is it like to be so passionately claimed by a dragon king? how riveting!” gojo murmured dramatically, as if providing a play-by-play to an audience. “she’s helpless, entranced! they both know she’s falling!”

toji cast a pointed look at gojo, barely concealing a smirk. “you done yet, gojo?”

gojo merely grinned, shrugging. “hey, i’m just here to make sure the romance shines through. and oh, don’t worry — it’s definitely shining.”

toji rolled his eyes but kept going, lowering his voice to a rumbling murmur. “if you don’t know where your heart lies, then i’ll show you.” 

he paused, his words lingering in the air like a promise, like he was speaking directly to you.

by now, the studio felt suffused with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. it didn’t help that every time gojo piped in with another comment, it only made you feel more painfully aware of every detail: the way toji’s gaze kept flickering your way, the way your own pulse raced faster with each line he spoke.

“the truth is right in front of you,” toji continued, his voice dropping low, rough, something smoldering behind each word. “all you have to do is reach out… and claim it.”

“gorgeous! breathtaking!” gojo burst out, clapping his hands loudly. “i can practically see the sparks flying! ah, young love!”

toji finally broke character, raising a brow at gojo with a look of pure exasperation. “you gonna let me finish or not?”

gojo waved a hand. “fine, fine. but for real — if you two don’t kiss after this, i might have to stage a re-shoot.”

both you and toji threw your hands up simultaneously, voices raised in exasperation. 

“gojo, would you please stop interrupting!”

“yeah, seriously, man,” toji added, shaking his head as he glanced over at you with a shared look of pure frustration.

“okay, okay! sheesh!” gojo shrieked, actually shrieked, as he staggered back in mock terror, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “all i wanted was to witness some workplace romance! is that so wrong?”

“yes, gojo, very wrong,” you shot back, rubbing your temples. “this is literally supposed to be professional — you should know that.”

toji snorted, crossing his arms as he smirked at gojo. “for once, i agree. you’ve got all the dramatic flair of a middle-schooler.”

“excuse me,” gojo replied, flipping an imaginary hair strand over his shoulder. “i’ll have you know my artistic eye is very advanced.” he let out a huff, but from the grin on his face, you could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

you shook your head, exasperated. “look, can we just get this recording done without any more —”

“interruptions,” toji finished for you, raising a brow as he glanced over at gojo.

“fine, fine!” gojo finally backed off, dramatically sliding into a chair in the corner, arms folded in mock offense. “i’ll be silent as a stone. a beautiful, thoughtful stone.”

you exchanged another look with toji, both of you sighing in unison. 

something told you both that it was going to be a very long day, especially with gojo’s creative direction…

toji, after finishing a solid block of recording, had ended up chatting with the sound techs, leaving you flipping through your phone while you waited. 

gojo, in his usual meddling fashion, suddenly brightened up and declared, “oh! why don’t you have a little chat with suguru? i told him you were here. he insisted on saying hello!”

you raised an eyebrow. “uh, sure?”

gojo sent you a link to join the video call, and soon suguru’s face popped up on the screen. his calm expression softened slightly when he saw you. “well, hello there. gojo wasn’t exaggerating when he said he had a new ‘star’ at the studio.”

you laughed, feeling a bit flustered. “thanks, geto! i hear you’re a partner at a... famous wine company?”

suguru gave a modest shrug. “yeah, it’s called persephone. it’s a small project that grew bigger than i expected. i handle a lot of the sourcing and marketing — keeps me away from here most of the time.”

“persephone? i’ve heard great things about it!” you said, genuinely impressed. “the way gojo talks about it, it sounds like a pretty big deal.”

he chuckled, glancing to the side as if recalling memories. “i started it with a... friend, actually. she was passionate about wine and had a vision that i couldn’t help but support. i guess i have a soft spot for her, and i... well, care about her a lot.”

you felt your heart warm a little at his sincerity, and the slight hesitation when he spoke of his partner. “it sounds like you two have something special going on,” you said, offering a supportive smile. “i’m sure she appreciates everything you do, especially with how involved you are. and honestly? best of luck. that kind of partnership sounds really meaningful.”

suguru gave a small nod, a faint, appreciative smile on his face. 

“thank you. i think she’d like you. maybe one day, if you ever make it out here for one of gojo’s wild wine-tasting parties, we can all meet up.”

“i’d love that!” you replied, already imagining how intriguing that partnership might be. and as you finished up the conversation, it struck you that you’d gotten a glimpse of a different side of suguru — one he clearly didn’t reveal often.

toji hadn’t meant to get distracted, but the second he saw you on a video call with suguru, laughing over whatever he was saying, he couldn’t help it. he’d been halfway listening to the sound tech drone on about waveform patterns, but all of that faded when he caught sight of you smiling on-screen. 

who exactly were you talking to like that? why did you look so happy?

the tech was still talking beside him, but toji’s focus was elsewhere. 

suguru. 

that damn calm, collected face of his. 

the same suguru who he’d seen only sparingly around the company, mostly through gojo’s random updates, but who was still one of the few people gojo actually respected.

toji squinted, his jaw tightening as he took a few steps toward you and pretended it was a casual stroll.

why was he doing this? it wasn’t like he had any claim on you, right? 

sure, there was that one kiss — or, well, those two kisses, actually. 

but still. 

he was a grown man, not some jealous kid. yet here he was, feeling like he had to size up suguru over a damn screen.

before he even realized it, toji had closed the distance. without asking, he leaned over your shoulder, practically shoving his face into the camera view as he met suguru’s face.

“hey, suguru,” he drawled, and the way his voice came out a little gruff didn’t escape him. “didn’t know you were interrupting a busy studio day here.”

you blinked, wide-eyed at his sudden closeness, but toji kept his eyes on suguru, ignoring your flustered reaction. suguru looked almost amused, raising an eyebrow at toji’s unannounced intrusion.

“toji. i’m just saying hi to the new talent here,” suguru replied with a smooth smile, clearly unfazed. “i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me meeting one of satoru’s top finds.”

“top find?” toji scoffed, feeling a weird pang at the words. “i’m the one doing all the work here.”

you shot him a look, somewhere between surprised and amused. “toji —”

but he just grunted and kept going, ignoring your attempt to intervene. “so, suguru, been busy with all that wine business, huh?” he went on, as if suguru’s whole life story had suddenly become his priority.

“pretty much,” suguru replied, a slight smirk in his tone. “it’s been keeping me busy, and i have a…close partner who keeps me grounded. speaking of which,” he turned his gaze to you with an amused smile, “she was the one who started persephone. i’m really just there to support her vision.”

“sounds convenient,” toji muttered, but suguru just chuckled.

you nudged him with your elbow, giving him a warning look. “toji, come on,” you whispered, as if he was the one being out of line here.

he let out a low sigh, then pulled back slightly, looking at you as if he’d just remembered himself. “what? ’m just makin’ sure you’re not getting dragged into any fancy wine scams or whatever.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide a smile. “geto’s company is doing fine, toji. it’s called persephone.”

toji folded his arms and gave a dismissive shrug. “well, just saying. i know people.” 

the whole room seemed to go a bit quieter, and toji cleared his throat, looking away from suguru's patient amusement.

“nice meeting you, toji,” suguru added, with a slight tilt of his head. “take care of our new ‘top find’ there, alright?”

toji clenched his jaw a little at the words, then nodded, pretending he wasn’t glaring at the camera. “yeah, yeah. we’re all set here.”

as the call ended, you turned to him, eyebrows raised, clearly wanting an explanation. “what was that about?”

toji scratched the back of his neck, trying to look casual. “just, y’know…making sure you weren’t getting yourself in with shady people.”

“oh? like, you?”

he let out a bark of laughter, realizing he’d backed himself into a corner. “hey, i’m not shady — i’m just thorough.”

you raised an eyebrow. “thorough? right, that’s the word you’re going with?”

“yeah. and what — you mad at me for caring?”

at that, you went quiet, a faint blush touching your cheeks. 

and toji? well, he could only think of those two kisses again, and how stupidly close he’d just gotten to the camera just to… what? size up suguru? 

he mentally groaned. what was wrong with him?

tag list is open, comment if you'd like to be on it <3 produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[kiyomitakada]

i know its a classic. possibly cliche already. but i do wonder about Tumblr In The Death Note Universe probably more than i should

2 notes

💅 toxicbff Follow

if i see one more post attributing kira's powers to ~supernatural powers~ instead of the obvious fact that the cia is doing a coup I'm going to start giving You the heart attacks

💅 toxicbff

of course i saw the news how does that not prove my point further

the idea that all the police around the world could be mobilized by one single person is ridiculous (just look at this list of how many civilian militia there are globally)

heart attack victims don't seize the way "lind l tailor" did

i don't know how to tell you that You Can't Kill People Just By Knowing Their Name And Face because this is Real Life and not the newest grimdark marvel villain

people need to stop being scared of the ~bogeyman in the closet~ and wake up to the fact that usamerica is trying to take over the goddamned world

💅 toxicbff

im going to kill you all and nuke this website

#sayonara you weeaboo shits

2,925 notes

👾 lets-go-geeks Follow

DO TRUMP NEXT

🕵🏾‍♀️ penny-penelope Follow

LIKES TO CHARGE REBLOGS TO CAST

16,375 notes

❤️‍🔥 lovesickened Follow

i know its stupid but im so fucking scared for my brother i heard that seven people died this week at the prison he's in and iinjust dont kenow what to do ihate him for ehat he did to mom but i never wanted him to die

#vent tw #delete later

0 notes

🏎 fastandyurious Follow

if i get a single more comment about why i don't tag "genderbend" on my kiratective fics i'm going to blow up the entire building. we don't know EITHER of their genders. why don't YOU tag your mediocre yaoi genderbend instead

🔆 sparkling-world Follow

…OP, you realize the news reports all consistently use "he," right?

🏎 fastandyurious

of course i do???? just because you see something on the news doesn't mean you have to believe it?????? they don't have any information on kira yet but i'm supposed to believe the fbi knows their gender already??????? also kira is literally a fucking girl's name my classmate in elementary school was called kira

🔆 sparkling-world

Kira comes from the Japanese romanization for "killer," it isn't gendered whatsoever.

Also, evidence shows the majority of serial killers are male, so I'd argue that the statistics favor the fujoshis here.

🏎 fastandyurious

well evidence shows that female serial killers are just more fun to write about and I'd argue that you're ignoring my fucking POINT which is that we DON'T KNOW KIRA'S GENDER and if people don't want to read lesbian kiratective they can FUCK OFF MY BLOG

🥚 i-offer-eggman Follow

I offer you an Eggman in these trying times.

🔮 I-stands-for-le-gay Follow

@lashitpostcalligrapher yo can i get "the statistics favor the fujoshis" on my tombstone

#fandom: kira rpf #ship: kiral #never heard it called kiratective before… #also uh. prayer circle for op's classmate lmaoooo

2,107 notes

💃🏻 modelingmadness Follow

BOYCOTT EIGHTEEN MAGAZINE

THEY ALLOW KIRA-SUPPORTING MODELS AND ARE COMPLICIT IN THIS MASSACRE

SOURCES HERE AND HERE (TRIGGER WARNING: KIRA DISCUSSION)

PUSH BACK AGAINST HEART ATTACKS

🧚🏽‍♂️ harubaru Follow

golly gee ^_^ suddenly i feel like taking to the high seas in a way that the eighteen company cant get profit from. oh no ! who left this link here

🐦‍⬛ kuro--misa Follow

thanks for the link but jesus fucking christ man what happened to free speech. misa-misa's parents were killed by a burglar who kira punished. did you all expect her to just sit there, look pretty, and say nothing about it?

you people only like models when they're nice pictures for you to consume. you only like them two-dimensional and smiling and hot. the second a woman actually speaks her mind she's thrown to the wolves

💃🏻 modelingmadness

DID YOU NOT SEE MY BANNER YOU PIECE OF SHIT

#BLOCKED

140 notes

🐦‍⬛ kuro--misa Follow

lol. lmao even

#they blocked me but whatever #official eighteen site just said misamisa wont be in the next issue #(eighteen sucks but i kind of want to use it more out of spite now) #so much for apologism huh? #god. i feel sick. #hasn't she been through enough.

1 note

🥷🏻 kira-imagines Follow

Imagine you're going home after a long day. Suddenly there's a sound. "Huh? Whose there" you ask, dropping your keys on the floor. Then you feel it. A knife pressing in your neck.

"Don't move kitten" Kira purrs behind you. "You're all mine now…"

#kiraxreader #kiraxoc #kira #kira rpf #kira investigation #kira fucker #kira fudger #kira lover #kira haters dont touch #kira haters please touch #kira supporters please touch #l

5,733 notes

asahi-the-student-deactivated201

Hello, everyone! My little sister told me about this microblogging platform (I admit, I'm a Twitter refugee) and that many of you are discussing the Kira investigation on here. I'm really interested in hearing what your thoughts are!

💋 sunny-sayu Follow

let the record show he lasted like. a day

#i think it was the imagines that did him in #bro is so sensitive :p

15 notes

kiyomitakada

the world could be beautiful

[ @deathnotetober day 14: trigger ]

[blackjackkent]

Jaheira is Not a Deadbeat

I am, as always, deeply in love with the kids' ambient dialogue while waiting for Jaheira to come inside. And it's time for me to have Opinions.

FIG: I saw her! I swear! RION: Are you sure? Maybe it was just a laborer holding a shaggy grey mop! FIG: Be serious, Rion! Who puts braids on a mop?

FIG: She'll be here any second. Maybe she's sneaking! RION: Doubtful. We'd hear her knees cracking.

And of course my favorite:

RION: Enough, Fig. There's no point getting your hopes up. She'll be back when she's back. FIG: You don't think she will! RION: I know she will. But we'll wait a little longer, if you like.

😭😭😭😭

Rion absolutely knew perfectly well what she was supposed to do from Jaheira's instructions. She just didn't want to. She's been hanging on to the desperate belief that Jaheira was going to walk through the door and make it unnecessary - and, as it turned out, she was right.

OK, fuck it, I'm doing a post about this now. :P

Despite what the Tumblr BG3 fandom would have you believe, Jaheira is not a "deadbeat mom." Is she a parent with emotional constipation issues and way too much time at work? Sure. But so are plenty of other parents on both Toril and Earth. It's SUPER clear from the way all the kids (including Rion) talk to and about her that they LOVE her and she has been an enduring presence in their lives, and that her recent disappearance was both unusual and devastating. 

There are books she reads the kids up in the bedroom! Fig is so excited to announce she's back, indicating that the absence is not a normal occurrence! Jhessem has convinced herself they share a bloodline! Jord got to go to the market with her as a boy! These are not the circumstances of children who do not give a shit about their parent or vice versa!

The devnotes about Jord’s conversation in particular do not show a picture of a man with ill-will towards a mother who felt it customary to abandon him:

JORD: I tended to it. I just let it... thrive in its own independence. You know, same way you raised us. (Devnote: Well meant potshot at his mother, no malice in it) JAHEIRA: I raised you to be a sweet and kind boy. What happened? JORD: I watched what you did instead of listening to what you said. (Devnote: Amused, gently mocking his mother) JORD: This house has taken in a lot of children over the years. Mother dear was sometimes more commander than, well... mother dear. (Devnote: Smiling, explaining why he and Jaheira trade barbs. No criticism, just understated affection)

It is, perhaps, worth noting at this point as well that Jord - and Rion, and Fig, and even Jhessem - speak with that teasing, mocking tone towards Jaheira… but so does she - towards the people she cares most about, including you as the player. The kids are acting as they have learned, and words like this can and should easily be read as gestures of affection. And they clearly trust Jaheira enough to bring this playful rudeness to the fore without fear of it being misconstrued or turning into hostility.

And if they are like Jaheira in this way, they’re also not going to be comfortable showing the real depth of their feelings in front of you, the player character - who is fundamentally a stranger who has just walked into their house. Why would they? Jaheira clearly doesn’t; indeed, even her more serious conversation with Rion only takes place outside where even the other children aren’t listening. 

Perhaps most significantly, I truly don’t understand how anyone can interact with Tate for even a moment and think that Jaheira does not have a deep, if often unspoken, bond with the kids she raises:

JAHEIRA: I hope you were hibernating, little cub, I can’t think of another reason you wouldn’t come down to say hello. TATE: Jaheira! I d-didn’t… didn’t w-want to see if you were r-really dead. They said… JAHEIRA: Who said? TATE: Jord and Rion. They didn’t think I c-could hear… JAHEIRA: You little sneak-thief. Well, they were wrong. Look! Not dead! I just… had a few adventures.

She is so soft and gentle with him in a way that she is with no one else, a way that indicates that she knows him and how his personality is different from the others. And he in turn has clearly been utterly devastated by the idea that she might be gone.

Take, as well, the evidence provided by Minsc when he is present in these conversations! There’s plenty of evidence to indicate the degree to which Minsc is guided by Jaheira’s behavior - to the degree that a doppelganger wearing her face was the key ingredient to binding him temporarily into the Cult of the Absolute. And Minsc - far more comfortable with emotion than Jaheira, at least in some ways - is clearly very affectionate with the kids as well:

FIG: STAND ON YOUR LIVER! MINSC: It is stand and *deliver*, little Fig. Though I think I like yours better. You bellow like a true berserker!

JHESSEM: A fine day to you, saer. Are you known to this court PLAYER: Eh? JHESSEM: Ugh - play along, would you? MINSC: Lord Boo is most pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady! Word of your grace has spread far and wide among the hamster houses. (Devnote: Swooping in to preserve the child's make-believe after the player ruined it.) JHESSEM: Enchanted!

MINSC: Boo is also very well! And happy to see *you*, Rion. RION: And I him. Enough that I’ll let him keep his lumbering, sweaty steed inside.

Would Minsc have taken it upon himself to have such a comfortable relationship with these children if Jaheira did not? I doubt it. He’d be friendly, certainly, but this familiarity goes a great deal beyond that.

And as for Rion herself - it's definitely reasonable to assume that she's had a strained relationship with Jaheira as she's grown older. (I have a lot of headcanons about this for my specific worldstate canon, but even just sticking to the game canon, it definitely seems like that's the case.) But leaving aside that - can you blame her for being upset at this particular moment?

As far as Rion knows, her mom was recently emotionally devastated for an indeterminate reason. (Minsc's apparent death. None of the kids are surprised to see him arrive, so clearly none of them knew he was supposed to be dead - but also there's no way that Jaheira didn't look afterwards like someone hollowed her out from the inside.) Then, without further explanation, she disappeared for what appears to have been several months (again, clearly not standard procedure), and after weeks of no contact, sends a seven-word message indicating she is about to die.

How exactly is Rion supposed to feel at this moment? This is an incredibly emotionally fraught circumstance, and if it's precisely representative of her overall relationship with Jaheira I will eat my hat.

Also - much is made by the game, by Rion, and by the fandom about that seven-word message, but if you try to chastise Jaheira about it, she gives further context:

PLAYER: Only seven? That’s cold, Jaheira. JAHEIRA: The cleric who cast the Sending was wounded. Should I have sobbed on her shoulder?

Jaheira was caught in a no-win situation. Trapped in the Shadowlands, a terrifying ordeal all by itself, with a gaggle of Harpers she had to protect, many of whom had apparently been injured by their encounter with Ketheric Thorm. If the only cleric she had access to was wounded, this was before they reached Last Light and met Isobel. 

Jaheira had ZERO reason to hope at this point - but she also still felt her own inescapable responsibility towards the people under her command. To send a longer and more emotional message would have been to put strain on her injured comrade and also risk making it very clear that she felt the situation was hopeless. The Harpers very well might have broken and scattered, condemning themselves - and, frankly, many others, given their crucial contributions to the final Act 2 fight - to death.

And then she lives, against all her own expectations, and returns to the city. And her dialogue reflects her conflict over this fact as well: 

JAHEIRA: I have given you much reason to think that Harpers hoard secrets like precious stones. But I promise you, this was not some intrigue. Just, ah… plain and simple foolishness. As if by keeping clear of my family, I might keep them clear of the cult in turn. And if this fight were to go against us, well… they had already done their mourning. Why visit it on them twice?

She then goes on to discuss the city and her place in it - and relates it directly back to her kids as well.

JAHEIRA: I was wrong to think I could keep my children from this fight. They’re Baldurian born and bred - the only damned reason I root myself in this place. This city is a cesspit. An open sewer of the soul, that taints us with its filth and churns us out when all that is good has been stripped away. It also happens to be their home - and so it is mine. Ugh. That might be the first time I have said that out loud.

If Jaheira wanted to disappear and leave her kids to handle themselves, she would have done it a long time ago. It wouldn’t be hard; she is fully capable of vanishing into the wilderness never to be seen again - and in truth, there’s every reason to believe she would be considerably happier to do so… except that it would mean leaving her children behind. They “root” her in Baldur’s Gate despite all of her previous inclinations and everything that comes naturally to her, and everything she does is guided ultimately by the need to protect the city because it is their home.

And that, my friends, is love, a love that she shows even if she does not know how to voice it.

TLDR: Jaheira's absence in the Shadowlands was definitely not a normal occurrence, and her kids clearly love her deeply and were devastated by her apparent disappearance. That she is a woman who keeps herself far too busy with work and has no idea how to express her own strong feelings does not, has not, and never will make her a "deadbeat."

[satxnsupreme666]

I almost lost you: Agatha Harkness/Agnes x fem!reader/ Mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Masterlist

Requested by: @midnight-lestrange​

Summary: Agatha´s in love with you and you´re in love with her as well but she doesn’t know that, instead she thinks you have something with Wanda so Agatha stops talking to you, until you get severely injured.

This is a romantic!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader and Mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

Words: 6k+

Warnings: Slight angst, minor mentions of blood and reader getting hurt, but happy ending (I love happy endings btw)

Author´s notes: Hi, this was a requested story, I do not know if I should tag the people who requested at the time, I want to be respectful, so I am not sure if I should tag them, I will try and do it since it was their request and their idea and if any of the people who requested back at the time now feel uncomfortable being tagged, please let me know and I will delete the tag.

This was one of the first stories I wrote three years ago, I had posted them on Tumblr on my old account, but due to my mental health, I had to take a break from Tumblr and the toxicity and hate that had suddenly increased, I deleted all of my stories and my old account, now I have decided to upload them again here on Tumblr and also on Ao3.

Again, as this was one of the first stories I wrote for Agatha Harkness is a little bit short, I will be uploading the rest of the stories from time to time, I have to edit them and make sure they are legible enough and with not a lot of grammatical errors.

I hope you like it! ♥️

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange  @eliscannotdance  (If someone else wants to be added to the Taglist you can send me a message or an ask, it´s alright)

Wanda was around you all the time, she never left your side, there wasn’t a moment when you were alone, it was almost as if Wanda didn’t want Agnes or anyone else to get close to you, whenever you went, no matter where,  Wanda was there by your side, grabbing your hand or holding you closer to her, she was all the time with you and this bothered Agnes a lot.

It was even weird to see you alone for more than one minute, Wanda was always behind you, making sure no one got near you, not even Dottie and she found that really amusing.

However when it came to Wanda not letting her get near you was annoying, Agnes just wanted to talk to you and hold your hand, she didn’t expect to fall for you so quickly, but she couldn’t help it, you were so sweet, your smile could brighten any room and she loved how you used to move your hands when you talked about something you loved.

The first time Agnes met you had been one week after she arrived to Westview you had left Wanda´s house and she was surprised when she saw you, Agnes smiled at the memory.

“Hiya Honey” You heard someone greeting you so you turned yourself to look at the owner of the voice, and behind you was a woman with a bike and her long dark-brown hair was bright, you smiled back at her.

“Hi” You said feeling a little shy

“I´m Agnes darling, lovely to meet you” She said with a big smile and you blushed when she winked at you

“My name´s y/n”

“So, you´re my neighbor too, right? I saw you coming out from Wanda´s house darling, I didn’t know you lived with her” Her tone was cheerful and her happy mood was contagious

“Oh yes I live there with Wanda, have you met her already?” You asked her with a curious tone

“Of course, darling I met her a week ago, she even made a performance at the talent show days ago” You frowned, a week? That couldn’t be possible right? Maybe Wanda had changed the memories of the residents here to make them believe it had already passed a week, you couldn’t just believe it, or could it be true? Of course, Wanda told you everything when you woke up, she didn’t like hiding things from you and you felt happy because she didn’t erase your memories.

Agnes found really strange that she hadn’t seen you since she arrived and she had already entered Wanda´s house many times all this week and this was the first time she saw you, what else was Wanda hiding?

“Oh well that´s great, she´s really cool” You said trying to recall the past days, it was weird you felt like you had arrived here yesterday, you tried to brushed it off, it was really not important.

“Yes, darling she´s really cool” She squinted her eyes a little, as if she was analyzing you carefully

“So, tell me honey, where are you going to?”

“I was going to see the town, I just woke up… from a long nap” You were unsure of what you were saying, you didn’t see the frown on Agnes face, this was interesting for her.

“Well, in that case I can go with you to show you the town, would you like that sweetheart?” You thought about it for a minute, she looked like a good person, so you agreed, it would be alright, and you couldn’t deny, this woman was really charming and pretty.

“I would like that” With a big smile on your face you looked at her again, you were sure you could finally be happy in this town.

“Let me put this on my garden, then we can leave doll” Doll, you said the pet name in your head, no one had called you so many pet names like her, and you liked it, you felt your chest getting warm, it was nice.

She took her bike and she placed it inside her garden and then she winked at you again, of course you laughed, she was really sweet.

“Come on dear, let´s go” Agnes linked her arm with yours and she pulled you closer to her, she brushed your hand with her fingers and you blushed furiously, the only person you felt comfortable being so close to was Wanda but Agnes made you feel just as comfortable if not more. You could smell her perfume it was a mix of vanilla and something else you couldn’t put your finger on, her perfume was really sweet and you found yourself wanting more, would she always spread her perfume all over herself when she got out of her house? Or maybe in the morning she spread it once and the essence just stayed over her all day?

“So darling, how did you arrive here?” You hear her soft voice asking you and you turned your head to have a full view of her features, you felt as if her blue eyes pierced your soul, she looked at you as if she was analyzing your expression, and you tilted you head a little to the other side thinking on what to answer, Agnes looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to answer, she was a very patient woman, and she could wait all the time for you to answer.

“If I recall correctly” You brought your left hand to your mouth, it was something you used to do whenever you tried to focus on something, it was an unconscious thing you did.

“I arrived here with Wanda, she drove us from some offices in her car and the ride was pretty long, I just remember falling asleep and when I woke up I was in my bed” Agnes arched her eyebrow, feeling confused because of your answer, nodding her head she bit her lip, she needed more information to understand what was going on with you.

“That´s alright dear, when you wake up from really long nap, you can feel lost, it has happened to me, especially after a long night of partying” You laughed at the movements she made with her hands as if she was dancing and she moved her shoulder to brush it against yours.

You felt so carefree with her, she made you feel alive, it was a feeling you didn’t get to have, years ago with Wanda you could only pass your nights at the compound watching a movie or cooking, but still you felt trapped, but here with Agnes, you felt that you could do anything and you wouldn’t be judged.

“Oh, hi Dottie, I love your roses!” Looking at the person whom Agnes was talking to, you saw a woman with blonde hair working in her garden.

“Thank you, Agnes,” The woman, Dottie, said back and when Agnes turned her face to look at you, she rolled her eyes and she had a funny expression on her face, she made you giggle, she was really something else.

After ten minutes you finally arrived at what it looked it was the center of the town, there were children playing with each other and some adults were sitting in the lawn, some of them were having picnics with their children and you smiled, it was a really different view from what you had seen in the last years, your memory wandered back for seconds to your old life, you felt yourself getting a little sad, outside of all these amazing things you were enjoying, you didn’t know how everything was. Agnes noticed the change in your mood, she could sense your sadness and it was as if she felt a little of what you were feeling, Agnes wanted to drag your attention from whatever you were thinking, but she didn’t know where the urges to see you smile again came from.

“Hey sweety, do you like Ice cream?” Hearing her talking to you was enough to forget about the negative thoughts, and you felt grateful for that.

“Yes, I like Ice cream, do you like it?” Seeing you smile again made her feel better, she was not sure why, maybe it was because you had a really pretty smile.

“I love it doll, what about if we go to that ice cream shop, we can get to know each other better” Agnes took your hand and dragged you to the shop, you felt her soft touch in your hand and you felt you face heating, this woman made you blush a lot. Also, you really liked the way she grabbed your hand; she did it as gentle as possible as if you were about to break.

When you entered you decided you wanted a milkshake instead of just Ice cream, and Agnes was happy to order for you, after you told her your favorite flavor, she went to tell the girl attending what the two of you wanted and you just waited for Agnes to return in one of the booths there.

You were distracted by the surroundings, everything was really pretty and even though you found strange that some places where exactly as you had imagined sometimes, everything was beautiful, you remembered one day that you were discussing all the things you would love to visit with Wanda, and you remembered telling her about a place like this.

“A penny for your thoughts sweetheart?” She asked you while sitting herself next to you, you felt her leg brushing yours and you tried to hide your blush by resting your chin on your hand.

Agnes looked at you thoroughly, she knew you were hiding something, and she wanted to know what it was, but this was different, she wanted to know Wanda´s secret because of her immense powers, but with you it was different, she felt the necessity to know what was affecting you, she wanted to help you, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.

“Wanda used to rent movies and buy ice cream for movie nights” You muttered and if Agnes hadn’t been paying attention, she wouldn’t have heard you.

The waitress came with your orders and placed them in front of you, you said to her a barely audible thank you and you took a sip of your milkshake, it was really good, you loved it.

“We used to watch our favorite series; she loves old sitcoms you know?  and to be honest I kind of like them too” Agatha was looking your features and how you were playing with the straw, with your free hand you started to play with some strands of your hair, she could say you were talking more to yourself than to her, you were really in deep thought.

“I really liked when we passed time together, she has always been kind towards me but I feel something has changed, I´m not sure if things could go back as how they were” You were not sure what had changed but you felt something off.

Agnes felt bad for you, even if she didn’t know your entire story she felt empathetic, your pretty features looked sad again, and even if she wanted to do something, she didn’t know what to do, so she put her hand on your shoulder to give it a squeeze, unconsciously you leant your head into her hand.

“Y/n?” You heard a familiar voice that made you sat straight

“Wanda?” You smiled, what was she doing here? she was supposed to be at home, but here she was, in front of Agnes and you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked and you noticed how Agnes didn’t take her hand off your shoulder

“I was worried, I thought you would come home earlier, you´re never outside more than just one hour” You could see her a little tense, you didn’t understand what was the problem

Agnes found the scene quite weird, why had Wanda come to look for you? She wasn’t your girlfriend to be looking for you just because you hadn’t arrived home yet, or were you?

“Hey Wanda sweetheart, you do not have to worry I took good care of her, right honey?” You saw Wanda relaxing a bit, it looked like Wanda trusted Agnes

“Agnes thank you seriously, I thought she had got lost”

You played with the straw in your milkshake until you decided to just drink it, you didn’t notice Agnes was staring at you. you were so sweet but the sadness in your eyes was the thing that she could see the most.

“Is that good?” Wanda had asked you with a grin on her face, she really liked that you were enjoying yourself, she had created a lot of things according to what she had seen inside your mind.

“Yes, is really good, it reminds me of the same milkshake you bought for me back in-

“New York?” Wanda finished your sentence and you smiled back at her.

“Remember that cafeteria we saw in the pictures of the souvenirs in Germany?” Agnes saw Wanda getting closer to you

“Yes! The one with the retro booths and the tables, even the lights were some kind of retro decorations, I loved it, wait” You gave a quick glance to the ice cream shop, it was exactly as you remembered the cafeteria in the pictures, Wanda saw your excitement and she knew you had discovered she had created this place for you.

Agnes seemed to notice that as well, she had put the pieces together, so Wanda hadn’t just created this place just for her, she had created this for you as well, and what she understood, was that Wanda had even decorated the place according to what you liked, for her Wanda had acted out of love, giving you all these things, she understood how much Wanda loved you, but in what sense? She wanted to know, but this time she didn’t want to act as the nosy neighbor, she really wanted to know what was going on with you two, but she didn’t dare to ask you straightforward.

“Did you have a good time with Agnes “Wanda suddenly asked, you didn’t understand why she asked you that, and Agnes frowned, why would she ask that in front of her?

“Oh yes, totally, she is really funny, I loved being here with her” You turned your head to smile at Agnes and she winked at you and this time Agnes brought her hand to brush a strand off your hair, she couldn’t help herself you looked so cute when you blushed, Wanda raised her eyebrows, surprised because of what Agnes had done and of course Agnes saw her expression.

“Hey Agnes you wouldn’t mind if I take y/n home?” You hastily looked at Wanda and of course Wanda saw your confused expression but decided to ignore your expression.

Agnes squinted her eyes, why would Wanda wanted to take y/n back to their house? You had told her you liked being here with her, but she decided she could let you go this time; you were not going anywhere so she would have the time to speak to you another day.

“Of course, I wouldn’t mind, we can meet up another day, right sweetheart?”

But you didn’t meet up with her again, that happened two weeks ago and since that day Wanda never left your side again, she remembered the day where she bumped into you “by accident” at the supermarket, she felt happy that day because you talked with her for about ten minutes.

“Agnes, what a surprise, are you here to buy some chocolate too?” You asked her biting your lower lip, what a great coincidence.

Of course it hadn’t been any type of coincidence, she had just followed Wanda and you, but she wasn’t going to let you know that, she was happy that you weren’t with Wanda for at least a couple of minutes.

“Oh no sweetheart, I came here to buy this” She pointed to a single bottle of wine that she was holding in her hand

“That’s great, I’m still thinking which type of chocolate I should choose, I really like that one” You pointed at a white chocolate bar, “But I also like that one too” You said while you took a normal chocolate bar, it was so hard to decide,  Agnes could watch you all the time, she could wait for you until you decided, she loved watching your expressions.

“Why not both?” She asked you while looking at the chocolates

Agnes was about to say something else but then Wanda came.

“Have you decided yet which one you want?” Wanda asked coming closer to you, she put her hand on your shoulder and that didn’t pass unnoticed to Agnes.

Seriously why Wanda kept interrupting you? As far as she knew Wanda was with Vision, then why didn´t she let you have a proper conversation with her?

You didn’t understand why Wanda really didn’t want you to talk to Agnes, she knew you liked her a lot.

For her part, Wanda was surprised, how was possible that you felt so comfortable with someone you had met just some weeks ago? She didn’t want you to get attached to someone who wasn’t even real at all, she didn’t want you to be heartbroken, she really hoped no one would ever come here to bother you or her, and she believed her magic was strong enough in order not to let anyone from outside enter without her knowing, but what if, just what if someone else broke into Westview and released all the inhabitants? She couldn’t even stand the thought of Agnes leaving the town and in consequence of that you would be left heartbroken, if that happen, she knew it would be her fault, she just didn’t want you to end up hurt, it would be better if you didn’t get too close to her.

Wanda thought Agnes was under her mind control and she thought Agnes was acting this way towards you because when she created the town she also was thinking that you could finally find someone who would love you and appreciate you, someone whom you could be happy with, but now that she thought about it carefully, if all of this didn’t work out, she didn’t want you to feel hurt because of her, but she couldn’t tell you to stop seeing Agnes, so she had to think of something else to do.

You had already passed through a lot of bad things, she didn’t want to add a heartbreak, years ago Wanda had rescued you from a Hydra base, they had experimented on you and when she looked at you Wanda instantly felt a connection with you, she could see herself in you, alone and with no one to look after her, since that day she decided she would be the one to help you recover, you would never be alone again, she was the closest thing to family, Wanda promised herself to look after you.

To you, Wanda was like a mom, she helped you understand your powers, she taught you how to use them but also, she taught you to trust again, with her help little by little you started to come out of your shell, she was happy that she could help you and of course she saw you as if you were her own daughter, she missed Pietro and she would always miss him, but with you by her side, she thought she could keep going, Wanda just wanted to protect you.

Agnes didn’t know any of this so her only theory was that you and Wanda were secretly dating, she felt hurt of course, Agnes wanted to have something with you but she thought that maybe you didn’t see her as just the friendly nosy neighbor, which to be honest she didn’t even like the role, at this point she wasn’t even interested in Wanda´s magic anymore, she could have left town but she decided to stay for you, but you didn’t even looked for her, she was conflicted, she had thought you had feelings for her, but looking at you here in the park with Wanda´s hand on your back, she realized you weren’t interested in her, so she stopped looking for you, she stopped visiting you at your house to give you little presents, she just focused her mind into getting to understand Wanda´s magic, after that she would just leave Westview.

You notice how Agnes started to ignore you, and you felt hurt, you felt heartbroken, what had happened? You didn’t understand, you thought things were going great between you and Agnes, you were aware that you didn’t talk a lot, but when you did, you felt happy with her and you thought she was happy too, sometimes when you wanted to go look for Agnes, something stopped you from going to look for her, like the time you were at the town center and you saw Agnes leaving the park, you wanted to go after her to greet her, but out of nowhere a bunch of people started to work on the street, you couldn’t leave the place because the men told you, no one was allowed to pass.

Or like that time when you were at the bookstore with Wanda and you saw Agnes walking down the street, you quickly went to the door to reach her but when you grabbed the doorknob you noticed it was stuck, you couldn’t open the door, even two teenagers that were hanging around the bookstore tried to open the door but they couldn’t, when you looked through the window to see if Agnes was still there, you didn’t see her and you pouted, it was as if something was preventing you to talk to her, it was really frustrating.

But now it was as if Agnes acted as if you didn’t exist, when she walked past your house and you were in the garden, she didn’t greet you anymore.

You were heartbroken, you didn’t know what to do, and you were afraid that if you tried to talk to her, she would just ignore you.

Wanda of course noticed the change in your mood, she felt guilty because she had caused this, and now she didn’t know how to fix it, Wanda hated to see you so sad, should she talk to Agnes? Or tell you the truth?

Wanda tried to think of what to do but at the same time she was dealing with the soldiers outside that were trying to enter Westview, she hadn’t told you any of this because she didn’t want you to add more things to your problems, she would have to deal with SWORD first. She had been trying to just ignore them but they kept sending the damned drones, and it was a matter of time for you to notice that there was something wrong.

It was late at night and you and Wanda were in your garden, you were watching the stars, how could this be something Wanda had created, it was really beautiful and even though you felt sad because of Agnes at the same time you felt at home, Wanda had told you that you would finally would have a place to call home.

The memory came to your mind and you smiled

“Listen, we will go home, alright? We will finally have a place to call home, but first I need you to go somewhere with me, and I need you to stay with me all the time alright?” You nodded at her and she dropped a kiss to your hair, she hugged you and you just leant into her, you trusted her with your heart.

“You won´t have to worry again, we will be a family” When she told you that she brought her hand to stroke your hair but when her fingers brushed your temple, you suddenly felt sleepy and you just fell asleep.

You felt tears at the corner of your eyes, Wanda had made sure to create all of this for you and for her, but still you felt something was missing, and that thing was Agnes, you really missed her a lot, she made you laugh, you felt safe with her and now she just ignored you.

You heard a sound as if something was coming towards you and when you looked in front of you, you saw there was a little airplane in the air, Wanda noticed it too and you saw her hands glowing red, you were not sure what was happening but you sensed that she was angry, really angry and with a movement of her hand the little airplane fell to the ground with a thud, the sound made you jump a little, what had just happened?

“I need you to stay here” Wanda´s voice was harsh, she was really angry but you didn’t know why

She took the airplane with one hand and lifted herself from the ground, leaving you there in the middle of the street, however you didn’t listen to her and followed her, since you had arrived here Wanda hadn’t used her ability to fly, so this was important, lucky for you, you could fly too, so you followed her from a good distance.

You saw her landing on Ellis avenue, she had told you not to come here many times, so it was weird, so you landed a few meters away from her

Wanda kept walking but you didn’t understand where she was going until you saw her passing through something, it was a magical field, you didn’t even know there was a field around town; Wanda easily passed through it and of course you followed her.

Now you were really close to the magical field and being this close was enough for you to see the small lines that looked like the screen of an old tv you were afraid because you didn’t know what was outside Westview, what had angered Wanda so much?

Taking a deep breath, you built the courage to pass through the field, you closed your eyes and when you were sure you were not inside Westview anymore you opened your eyes again.

You were not expecting hundreds of soldiers to be looking at you, it had been a complete mistake to walk through the magical field after all.

“I told you to stay inside!” Wanda´s accent was thicker and you could tell she was beyond pissed, so you just bit your lip, you could deal with her later.

“y/n?” Someone said your name and you lifted your head to see a woman with glasses, you had seen her before but you were not sure where.

“So, your little protégé has been here with you all this time? Do you know how many times we have been looking for you? Did you help her to trap all these people here?” This time it was an old man who held a smirk on his face

“Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this, leave her out of this, you came for me, not for her” The man laughed and he moved his hand it was a sign for all the soldiers to point their guns at you, now you were afraid, this had been a huge mistake.

Wanda used her powers to make them point their guns towards the man

“Wanda no! He´s just trying to provoke you, you´re not the villain” A woman walked towards Wanda a little, she was brave enough to do that, you were impressed.

You heard a sound, it was the sound of someone chambering a gun, you hastily looked where was the sound coming from and when you saw a soldier from far away pointing his gun to Wanda ready to pull the trigger you instantly used your powers, blue glowing from your eyes and hands, you lifted him In the air and threw him into some trees, the sudden sound distracted Wanda and she looked at you but that was enough for the man to grab the gun of the nearest soldier and he pulled the trigger, the bullet was going to hit Wanda right In her chest, you used your powers to push her to the ground and luckily the bullet didn’t hit her but this time you didn’t see him pointing at you, he pulled the trigger and you felt a sharp pain in your chest, everything happened so fast, the pain was unbearable, you felt like you were about to faint but Wanda grabbed you and with her free hand she threw the soldiers to the ground.

She lifted you in her arms and took you inside Westview again, she couldn’t believe you had just been hit by a bullet, she had wanted to kill the soldiers but she had to act quickly.

Agnes heard a lot of noise so she left her house and what she saw, horrified her, Wanda left you on the grass of your garden you had blood in your clothes and Wanda had blood in her hands.

“What happened?” Agnes was so worried, she couldn’t believe Wanda had let you get hurt, at the sound of her voice you lifted your head a little and you smiled, she had come to see you

“Agnes?” You said between coughs, the pain was awful.

Wanda tried to use her powers to take the bullet out of your body but it was hard, she couldn’t do it, her hands were shaking and she couldn’t think straight, you were bleeding and her powers were not working, she cursed and yelled, she couldn’t heal you.

Agnes was desperate she had to try something.

“Move Wanda” Wanda looked at her with a confused look what was she thinking? Wanda was about to say something but Agnes moved her hands and purple smoke emanated from her, the red haired woman was shocked, she was a witch?

Agnes knelt beside you and she covered your chest with her hands, Wanda saw her fingers moving and heard Agnes chanting something in a strange language, by this point Agnes was crying, tears were streaming from her eyes and Wanda was trying to process everything.

Suddenly the blood stopped coming from the wound you had and when Agnes moved her hands off you, there was no trace of any wound, any scar, you had fainted but at least you were alive.

“She´s alright now, she will need some time to rest” Wanda heard the woman and she nodded

“Who are you?”

“My name´s Agatha Harkness and we have a lot to talk, but not now” Wanda felt grateful, she had saved your life, and she couldn’t be more grateful.

 When you woke up two days later, you gasped, what had happened? You weren’t dead?

“Be careful dear” It was Agnes´ voice and you quickly turned your head to look at her, she was sitting in a chair beside your bed.

“Am I dead?” Agnes laughed a little and she shook her head.

“What happened?” You remembered feeling a sharp pain and you touched your chest, there was nothing there

“You were shot sweetheart” Agnes ‘voice broke, she was trembling and you couldn’t understand why, Agnes brough her hands to your face and she stroked your cheek, you loved her touch

“I thought you were going to die, I almost lost you, I thought I would never see you again, I was scared, I couldn’t stand the thought of you dying, I love you so much” Your eyes widened and you felt genuine happiness, she loved you the same, you couldn’t stand it anymore and you kissed her.

You felt one of her hands hugging your waist, she had a strong grip around you and her free hand touched your face, she brushed her fingers softly against the skin of your cheek.

You broke the kiss and smiled at her, finally you felt you were complete, she was what you needed the most.

“I love you too Agnes” She bit her lip, she had to tell you the truth, she closed her eyes, she didn’t know how you were going to react

“Doll, listen, my name´s not Agnes, my real name is Agatha Harkness and I´m a witch, I stopped the bleeding thanks to my dark magic, but I really love you, and I´m sorry I started to ignore you, I thought you were with Wanda and-” A laughed made her open her eyes again, you were laughing at her, but how could she have thought you were with Wanda?

“Why did you think I was with Wanda? She´s like a mom to me” You gave her a soft peck on her lips and she happily received it.

“It doesn’t matter now, because now I know you love me just as much as I do, also you do not have to worry, I really like your real name, and thank you so much for saving me, I´m pretty sure Wanda is grateful too” You hugged her again and you rested your head in her shoulder, she already had talked to Wanda, Agatha explained everything to her and Wanda did the same, Wanda was really grateful, she didn’t know what would have happened if she had lost you, and Agatha felt the same, you were her entire world, she wouldn’t lose you, and she wouldn’t ignore you again.

“I promise you, I won´t leave your side, I will protect you too and I won´t ever ignore you again, I feel so bad for that doll”

“It´s alright, you don´t have to blame yourself, now we can start again, this time we will make sure to avoid misunderstandings, ok?” Agatha sighed and nodded she looked at you with so much love in her eyes

“I love your eyes they´re so pretty you know?” She leant to kiss you again and when she pressed her lips to yours, the door of you room was opened, again Wanda had interrupted you but this time Wanda smiled, she knew Agatha was the right person for you, she was sure of it.

“I just came here to see if you were already awake, we still have to talk y/n, but for now I will just let you enjoy your time with Agatha” With that said she left your room, with the door opened, of course she did that.

You tilted your head to look at Agatha´s face, you were really in love with her.

“I love you so much y/n, I won´t leave you” You were sure she wouldn’t do it; you could feel the love she felt for you.

“Do you want to go downstair for something to eat? I´m hungry, I could make something for the two of us” Agatha nodded and stood from her chair she stretched her hand out for you to take it and you eagerly took it, this was good, now you were starting a new chapter and she was the missing piece, finally you felt happy, this was the family you had wanted.

[year2000electronics]

BILL CIPHER IS STILL AN ADULT.

Book of Bill spoilers below (and the answer as to why I would even be saying this):

So one of the pages in the Book of Bill has been slightly contentious in the fandom, I’ve noticed. Some people have taken the “fact” on this page and run with it.

Now, obviously people who were already imagining him as such kinda took this and ran with it, as they were want to do, but I’ve seen other people who are just taking this statement as “canon confirmation” and as someone who’s seen TikTok run itself weary with fake discourse about character ages because “I looked it up and Google said [character] was 15”, we’ve gotta nip that in the bud.

1: IT’S A JOKE.

The rest of the interview has similarly misleading answers. The whole gag here is that he’s not being truthful. When the question implies he doesn’t know how to wear pants, he says “I resent that!” and shows a picture of him wearing pants wrong. When it asks him for anything to ‘plug’, he uses the wrong meaning of the word on purpose.

Even the structure of the question is based on a common joke trope. To give an example, a viral post on Tumblr has a photo of Barbie in a kitchen with a decapitated Ken in her fridge and the entire reblog chain is full of people going “OH MY GOD, BARBIE! …You seriously left raw meat to sit on your cutting board? The juices will seep into it!” You know, expressing a sentiment of outrage and then completely whiffing on what you’re “supposed” to be outraged about. That’s even why Bill states his age before he claims he’s a “preteen”. This is clearly meant to be a sort of sarcastic response to the question, not a sincere one.

2. BILL IS FREQUENTLY DEPICTED PARTICIPATING IN “ADULT” ACTIVITIES.

Let the record show that obviously you can do things like drink at a young age, it’s not as if Bill is some saint so he could be underage drinking, but I’m thinking of this in terms of what we as readers/watchers are shown. And typically, these actions are associated with adults.

First of all, Bill is depicted as being served alcohol at a professional establishment, drinking in private with Ford, and driving, as well as being right next to Pyronica while she flashes someone.

Second of all, multiple references to Bill using sexually-evocative language and even claiming to have banged your mom are present both in the book and other supplementary material (his Reddit AMA). I wholeheartedly believe Alex Hirsch and the crew would not be enthusiastically using charged language directed to a mostly-adult audience (The book has a ‘for older readers’ disclaimer!) which would specifically be read as coming from/being about a preteen.

I’ll call this 2.5 but regardless of how you read Bill and Ford’s dynamic in the book, Mabel still refers to Bill as being like ‘a needy ex’ and to ‘go crush on someone else’s uncle’. Even if that’s just Mabel’s read on it, it would be weird to make that joke about a “minor” and an adult!

TLDR: Bill Cipher is an adult, anyone taking a one-off gag, ignoring the other evidence against it, and using it as an excuse to harass people or claim anything about relationship dynamics that simply isn’t true is being obtuse and misleading on purpose, and it’s fine if you want to headcanon that he’s a minor, just please don’t push it on other peoples’ canon or try to imply that it’s something that’s been confirmed at all.

[sstan-hoe]

◇ 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 ◇

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — stepdad!bucky barnes × stepdaughter!fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — it's your weeding day, you are marrying the man you love...or are you? he says he loves you, so why is he letting you marry the man he claims is not right for you?

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — angst, I hope you're crying, SMUT, fingering, oral (f receiving) p in v, light daddy kink, a bit of degrading and mean bucky, light praise, cheating

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — reblog, comment and/or follow | I got this idea from reading something on tumblr but I can't remember who posted it, tell me what you think!

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃

“He asked me, he asked me, mom he asked me!” you squealed as you entered the kitchen showing off your engagement ring with a big smile.

Your mother's eyes widened in excitement, she hugged you tight and whispered in your ear how happy she was for you. With pleasure you returned the hug, still not able to believe Peter had asked you to marry him.

“When’s the date, sweetie?” she asked as she led you to the living room to sit down. “We didn’t exactly set a date, but we wanted a summer-ish wedding, like summer but still spring,” you explained your mother who smiled dreamily.

“Oh, yes! May is perfect for that,” she proposed to which your eyes lit up, “yes, yes May is great!” you hugged her again.

“This gives us four months to plan, do you two have any other plans?” your mother asked, she was happy you finally found your happiness in Peter. She adored the young man and always told everyone how he would be her son in law.

“Not exactly, we know that we want to keep it quiet. Just family and close friends,” you explained. You hated having to many people around you and if it was just your family and friends you would feel a lot more comfortable.

Your mother agreed with you, however she fought against the urge to change your mind. She needed to respect your wishes, even if she didn’t want to agree with them.

Just then the front door opened and Bucky Barnes, your stepfather walked in. Your mother immediately stood up and fell into his arms with excitement, confused he hugged her back with a smile.

“What has gotten into you honey?” he questioned lovingly, his wife squealed, “my baby is getting married! Peter asked her to marry him, and she said yes.”

Bucky’s eyes squinted at the news, “did he now?”

Bucky Barnes, CEO of Winter Techs, successful businessman and new husband of your mother for three years now. One day you came back home and walked into your father’s house to find a stranger sitting comfortably on the couch with your mother.

The moment she saw you she got nervous and babbled about how they met, how much they loved each other.

You inspected him more closely as he came to introduce himself, he was the complete opposite of your father. Dark hair, broad shoulders, a light stubble beard, tall as well as muscular and most of all younger than her.

Add to that from the looks he was more your type than hers, you never questioned her why she chose someone younger. It wasn’t your place and after gathering more information about Bucky your questions were quickly answered.

After your father died your mother fell in dept and needed the money, Bucky had money, a lot of money and to top it all off he made her feel young as if she wasn’t almost eighteen years older than him – five years more than you.

You couldn’t believe her. You wondered if she actually loved him or if she just wanted the money and the feeling of youth.

Over time you got to know Bucky better despite your efforts to stay away, it wasn’t just that you didn’t want a relationship with him but also the fact that he was insanely attractive.

Bucky however always sought contact with you until you couldn’t stay away anymore. The man could read you like no other and knew of your attraction towards him. One night, your mother in bed and you alone with Bucky, you acted and kissed him.

This was it, that was the start of your affair with Bucky. You wanted to stop, but he was addicting and to your surprise the relationship wasn’t just sexual, no he took care of you and whispered sweet words in your ear.

Long story short. You fell for him but knew he would never feel the same or act on it which was the reason you decided to move on. The only problem? Bucky didn’t accept it, you landed in bed together more often than you’d like to admit.

Peter could be your salvation, he could help you break the cycle. This marriage could be your way out, right?

“I’m happy for you, sweetheart,” Bucky snapped you out of your thoughts with a smile on his face as if was really happy for you. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said tight lipped and pushed yourself up from the cushions.

You want to leave as soon as possible, not wanting to be in the same room as him any longer. “I’ve got work tomorrow so I will go to bed now…,” you stated, and your mother hugged you tightly again. “Proud of you my girl,” she whispered and kissed your cheek, “good night,” Bucky nodded along.

With that you walked up the stairs, a relieved sigh blowing from your lips. You needed a shower, thankfully you had your own bathroom which shielded you from any unwanted intruders.

The hot water relaxed your muscles, and you could feel the tension leaving your body. Hopefully this would all end in a few months.

After the shower you turned on your hairdryer and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. Your thoughts running wild, but the sound of the hairdryer smoothing you.

With a frightened squeak you jumped up a little bit. Bucky had entered with a glare on his face, “marriage huh?” he asked while sitting down. You scoffed at his audacity, “what? Did you expect me to never move on and always pine after you?”

Bucky shook his head, of course not but he wouldn’t let this boy take you away from him. You belonged to him, and he would make sure you knew that.

“No, but you shouldn’t settle for someone like him,” he admitted and closed his hand around yours, but you pulled away quickly. “Someone like him? He’s nothing but good to me, worships the ground I walk on, always knows when I need something, is the nicest person you’d ever meet and he loves me,” your voice broke in the end.

“And I don’t love you? I don’t worship the ground you walk on? I don’t know when you need something, I’m not good to you milyy?” Bucky’s voice is hard, he grips your jaw instead to make you look at him.

He loosened your towel and revealed your naked body, his fingertips grazed over your sensitive skin. You could feel him putting his jaw on your shoulder, his lips close to your ear.

“Tell me, do I not love you?” he questioned again, beginning to stroke your clit. You didn’t want to answer him, his questions were unfair, and he knew it. “Mhm, you’re already wet,” the deep voice sends shivers down your spine, only making you wetter.

“James we can’t,” you whined, letting your head fall back against the wall. A slap on your drenched cunt had you gasping, “what’s my name?” Bucky growled. “Daddy,” you whimpered, a deep chuckle sounding through your ears at the word, “good girl.”

His unoccupied hand closed around your throat, the cool metal sending shivers along the back of your neck. He made you look into his ocean blue eyes, they were filled with lust, lust for you.

You closed your eyes, not being able to look into his eyes any longer. He would draw you under his spell again, you couldn’t let it happen…, “look at me milyy,” he commanded, voice angelic and hard to resist.

“Mhm, you look so good with my hands wrapped around your neck,” Bucky praised, his hand fit around your neck like a necklace. The only one you wanted to wear forever.

While his lips ghosted over yours, his fingertips circled your mound. You whimpered, the brunette always teased you to no end. It was torture, sinful, pleasurable torture.

Two of his fingers entered your tight hole, you squeezed them tight as he curled them inside you. The tightness had him scoffing teasingly, “how can you still be this tight? How often have I fucked you yet huh? One would think I’ve stretched you out by now,” he purred against your mouth.

Oh, how true his words were. Almost every night he would sneak into your room and gift you immense pleasure. At the beginning he had to careful as to not hurt you, the first few times he prepped you until he was able to fully fit inside you.

“I have given you so much, and this is how you thank me?” with a sharp tone he hit your certain spot which had you moan pathetically.

If you could, you would have scoffed, the audacity. He gave you broken promises, countless nights of heartbreak that left you crying yourself to sleep. Those moments seemed to overshadow the good ones by now, the ones you should have had more off.

“Poor guy…how will he take it when you tell him you changed your mind?” his words were laced with honesty, Bucky knew what he was saying and meant every word off it.

The way he massaged your spongy walls made you yearn for more, though your orgasm wouldn’t come easy. They never did with Bucky and if it wasn’t for your current situation you’d preen in every second of it. Now, right in this moment, something was difficult.

“Aww, milyy, my beautiful girl...do you want to come? Tell me I’m the only one, tell me you only love me,” if you weren’t drowning in pleasure, you would have heard his voice waver at the end of the sentence. Bucky didn’t want to lose you.

“You’re the only one, I only love you,” the words melted from your tongue easily, no doubt in your tone.

You shakily moaned as his fingertips pressed against your sweet spot, a tight feeling spread in your stomach. Bucky had his metal fingers still on your throat but you clawed onto his back with compact breaths as you chanted his name over and over again like a prayer.

Nails digging into the white dress shirt that covered his beautiful body, thumb flicking your clit and fingers curling. “Come,” he demanded, letting go of your throat to steady your back, “come on my fingers, show me how good you can listen to me milyy.”

Listen you did, your orgasm came crashing down on you. Even with the blow dryer on your moan would have been heard if it weren’t for Bucky swallowing your mouth with his.

He almost muted your sounds, the kiss made you think you’re in heaven, you wished it could stay like this. Bucking your hips against Bucky’s thigh to create more friction was no use.

As you came down from your high everything downed on you. Lips still locked with Bucky in a passionate kiss, it reminded you of easier times…if they ever were. He was the man of your dreams, but he could never truly be yours.

Still in your little headspace Bucky picked you up and carried you to your bed, he turned off the hair dryer before kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll get you a tea and then we will find a way how you can break the news to Peter,” was all he said and then left your bedroom.

You registered his words slowly, you finally needed to break the cycle. Carefully you walked to the door and locked it, sliding down the hard wood closing your eyes defeated.

Muffled footsteps echoed through the door. Bucky tried opening the door. It didn’t open, again, still closed. With more strength this time, still closed. A scowl overtook his features, “milyy, open the door. I won’t tell you again,” his voice hard and demanding.

“We need to stop, this was the last time,” it was hard saying these words, but they needed to be said, “I’m going to marry him, I’m going to marry Peter.”

Bucky slammed his fist against the door, “no, no. Milyy you won’t, no!” A tear rolled down your cheek at the volume of his voice, why did this have to be so hard? “James leave, please,” another tear grazed your skin.

On the other side of the door Bucky had his forehead leaned against the wood, ‘James’ only you used his first name. Everyone else used his nickname or ‘Mr. Barnes’ but not you, it became special to him and strengthened the bond between you two.

“Open the fucking door,” he sounded demanding – he was. Again, he banged his fist against the door before sliding down like you, his hand pressed to the door.

“Don’t, I love you,” Bucky’s tone was softer now and his voice broke while all your dams broke. Tears streamed down your cheeks, “you have to leave,” you sobbed wiping away the tears, “Bucky,” you said his nickname to underline the importance behind it and the need to act as if there was nothing more than a father-daughter relationship.

Bucky shook his head desperately, it hurt to hear you say his nickname in a situation like this. One single tear escaped his eye, he wasn’t ready to lose you.

Neither one of you were able to sleep that night, you cried yourself to sleep, and Bucky laid awake next to your mother not touching an inch of her.

The next day you avoided him as much as you could, instantly met up with Peter. You spoke with him and a few days later packed your things to move out of your mothers home. She was happy for you while Bucky glared at Peter’s back the whole time.

All he could do was watch you leave, his heart breaking with every piece of you that left. To your mother he acted as if he was just a little sad you moved out, she believed him and loved the whole act of him stepping into the father figure.

The months leading up to your wedding you barley came to visit your mother at her house. Bucky laid awake most nights with you on his mind, his heart completely shattered.

Meanwhile you didn’t feel any different, but the attraction you felt towards Peter helped you. Everyday you animated him to have sex with you, made him go shopping with you, tried being with him every second just so you wouldn’t think of Bucky.

Peter didn’t mind, he enjoyed the time and only fell deeper in love with you.

Your wedding day. It was, finally, your way out. Today you had to face Bucky again, he would walk you down the isle – a wish your mother had. Hopefully everything go well today.

Currently you were getting ready, your maid of honour and mother helping you. They talked to you, how happy they were for you, but all you could think about was Bucky. Why wouldn’t he leave your mind? Today was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, you’re marrying the love of your life…or are you?

“I think I need a minute…alone,” you whispered, letting your head hang down as you fiddled  with your fingers. “Of course, honey,” your mom said and kissed your cheek, then moving out of the room with your friend.

As soon as they were gone you sighed heavily, why was it so hard? You wanted to cry but didn’t dare to smudge your make up which took the stylist an hour.

A soft knock caused your head to snap up, you prayed it wasn’t Bucky, “come in,” you announced and to your dismay it was Bucky. You hoped it was your dismay.

“Hey,” he greeted you and closed the door behind him, locking it. “Unlock the door,” you tried to keep your voice strong, to not let him know that he had an effect on you with just walking in the room.

“Please, let us talk,” he begged walking over to you. “We don’t need to talk, it’s too late,” turning your head you looked right into his ocean blue eyes which were filled with hurt.

“It’s not, I love you and you love me,” Bucky took your hands, the familiar feeling of warmth and comfort spreading through your body. “If you loved me you wouldn’t still be married to my mother Bucky,” your voice disgusted at the fact that he was still with your mother and slept with her.

He fell on his knees before you, “don’t call me Bucky, you always say James,” he whispered as his head came to rest on your lap. It hurt you to say Bucky as well, gladly you would go back to James, but it would be wrong right?

“That doesn’t change anything. I’m tired, tired of sharing you with my own mother who only married you for your money and to tell herself she’s still young,” you sniffled as the words left your mouth, you loved your mother, but it was the truth and Bucky went along with it.

“You told me you loved me and then went to sleep in her bed, do you know how much that hurts? I wanted to be with you day and night, but can you say the same?” the tears broke finally free. Until the very end you believed him, it was wrong you knew that.

“Milyy, don’t cry, please. I love you, I know I should have left her and I will, I have the papers ready,” lifting his head he loosened his right hand to wipe away your tears.

You were shocked by that reveal, did he lie? Was he being honest? How could you find out? Why did you even care? You cared because you loved, loved him more than you should.

“I can’t just leave. I risked so much for you, I’m done risking everything for you,” you shock your head. In about thirty minutes you were supposed to walk down the fucking isle and marry, and here you were crying, smudging your make up because of Bucky who declared his love for you and that he was close to divorcing your mother because of you.

“I love you so much, I know what you’re risking but I promise you I’m not lying. This time I won’t stay away, I won’t leave. You are my everything, you’ve been for a long time now and I’m sorry I didn’t show you properly,” both of his hands were now on your face catching the tears. Bucky moved his body up to be face to face with you.

You wanted to believe him, no, a part of you already believed him. After all your body yearned for him and as much as you loved Peter, he was no match to Bucky.

“James…,” hope lit up in Bucky’s eyes as you said his name, his first name, “I love you, but…,” was there really a ‘but’? There should be, Peter is a worthy, ‘but’ he should be the one.

“Milyy I’m done, I will show you how much you mean to me,” words hard he bunched up your dress and vanished under the fabric. You knew what was about to happen as you felt his rough pads dance along your skin.

The brunette pushed your white thong aside, “mhm white lingerie, picked it out just for Peter? For the big wedding night?” his voice was muffled but you were still able to hear his teasing word for word.

He latched onto your cunt without hesitating and groaned as soon as he tasted you, “how much I missed this pretty pussy.” At the deep groan you weren’t able to hold your whimper back, why did he have to be this hot?

With his metal thumb he stroked over your clit, the coolness sending a shiver down your spine. His tongue moved in and out of your leaking hole, the feeling of pleasure consuming your body and Bucky’s sinful words filling your thoughts.

“Oh, milyy have you let him eat your cunt? Let him have a taste of my cunt?” a slap on your sensitive mound pulled an unexpected squeal from you, “I expect an answer when I ask you a question.”

“I did, I let him eat my pussy, I’m sorry daddy,” you whine and oh how quick you were to fall for him again.

He shook his head, mumbling how disappointed he was in you. Still, he let his tongue back to roaming through your cunt, hitting your sweet spot which he found instantly.

As he devoured you like you were his last meal your orgasm approached. A tight knot build up in your stomach, you scrunched your eyes shut only waiting for the blissful feeling to overtake you. Bucky knew you were close, not just your stomach tightened no, your cunt almost imprisoned his tongue.

Bucky’s cool thumb drew circles on your clit before he gently bit his teeth down on your bundle of nerves. A pornographic moan slipped from your lips as a rush of ecstasy crashed into you, it was all it took for you to have one of the best orgasms in months.

With his tongue he guided you through your high, he was proud to have you shaking under him.

Replacing his tongue with two of his flesh fingers, Bucky pulled his head from beneath your dress. “I’m not done with you yet,” a sentence that promised pure pleasure and stilled a need in you.

“You look beautiful in white milyy,” Bucky cooed curling his fingers as he laid his hand back on your cheek, thumb stroking your bottom lip. You closed your mouth around his digit, sucking gently exactly like you sucked his cock.

His head fell back and his dress pants tightened, cock rock hard pressing against the fabric. It didn’t help his case that you, dressed in white was something he dreamed off.

Butterflies erupting in your tummy, you understood him. You missed his cock too much, no one was like, could be like him. Bucky was loosing his patience, retracting his fingers, and moving his hands to your waist. He lifted you onto the table, tugging the top of your breast down exposing your lace covered breasts.

“Would you look at that? Wearing a lace set I bought you, do you think he deserves to see you in it or were you waiting for me? Hoping I’d show up?” Of course, you hoped he’d show up, but you tried to repress the wish.

A scowl placed on his lips, “you dare to wear it for him,” he growled as he undid his pants revealing his beautiful cock.

Your mouth watered at the sight, thick, and the girth is proportioned along his shaft while the head of his cock is even thicker. Mushroom formed head leaking with precum, his pretty curve you’d knew would hit every spot.

Oh, how bad you wanted to suck him off, “hold that for me milyy,” he ordered, holding up your dress. Doing as told you gripped the white fabric, wanting to do everything he asked of you. “Be quiet, we don’t want your mother hearing you…or your soon to be husband. What would they do if they knew you getting fucked by your stepdaddy huh?”

Your mother would disinherit you and Peter would curse you to the moon, but you didn’t care you wanted Bucky.

Slowly he pushed his tip in, already stretching you slightly, “daddy,” you whimpered. Had he been becoming bigger since you last fucked him? A tear rolling down your cheek, however this time from pleasure.

He continued pushing in, the way he stretched you made you feel a kind of pain you welcomed. “Fuck, see? This is what happens when I don’t fuck you enough. You’ve gotten tighter, I need to stretch you again. You will let daddy split you apart won’t you milyy?” Bucky began moving his hips at a slow pace, wanting an answer from you.

You tried focusing on forming words, but your head felt empty, he filled you up too good. A deep chuckle sounded through the room, “can’t believe I already fucked you dumb,” he could believe it.

“Yes, harder,” finally you managed to say something, and it didn’t surprise Bucky, but who was he to deny your wish? His pace became rougher.

With every thrust he hit your spot, god how much he loved the feeling of you clenching your walls together. When he added his thumb into the play you moaned louder than before. He loved the sounds he could drive from you but it was too dangerous right now.

“Keep making those loud sounds and I will have to punish you,” lacing his metal hand around your throat and squeezing it as a warning made your walls clench resulting in your lover groaning.

If your head wasn’t empty maybe you would have been able to bite something back. Even though Bucky was pummelling and destroying your pussy, you need him closer. Wrapping your legs around his middle you brought him closer to you.

His cock hitting deep inside you, without the dress there would have been a belly bulge visible.

“Missed me so much milyy? God, I’m gonna come and let you milk my cock till the last drop,” Bucky was close to the edge, it had been too long since last had his cock buried inside you.

“Come for daddy,” you tightened around him but needed more, something was missing, “fucking come for me, I said,” his tone became harsher, more controlling. Bucky pressed lightly on your throat. That was it the choking, the thumb circling your clit, the way he split you open with his cock.

A pathetic whine left you as you came all over Bucky’s cock, bliss shooting through your veins. “James,” you sighed over and over again, the name music in Bucky’s ears.

“Good girl,” he praised, his pace becoming uneven as his high neared, “milk every last drop of me or I will paint your pretty face with it and let you walk down the aisle covered in my cum.” He didn’t have to ask twice for you to drain him.

He reached his high and let his head fall on your breast to muffle his groan. You accepted every drop of him like you were told, your hands snaking into his hair to keep him where he was.

The last drop came from him, he stilled in your cunt. Endorphins jumping through the air, you’ve never been happier. Bucky, your James was with you again, “I love you, James,” you whispered with a smile. He wasn’t able to keep himself from smiling either, gently he freed his hair from your grasp, “I love you too, milyy,” with joy he locked your lips with his.

Your hands rested on his cheek, the fire and passion you two held still not gone.

Suddenly a knock on the door broke you from the moment you shared with Bucky. With wide eyes you sat up causing Bucky to whimper as he was still inside you.

“Honey? Are you ready? We’re about to start in five minutes, I’ll get Bucky and then we can start,” your mother’s voice could be heard. Everything that just happened downed on you, how could you fall into Bucky again? No, no, no, this couldn’t be true.

Bucky let go of you and pulled his cock out, dripping with you mixed juice. “You have to decide now, leave with me or marry him,” his tone was serious, “maybe this will help you,” reaching into his pocket he pulled out a plug and pushed it into your leaking hole, “wanna make you keep everything.”

Just then you instantly stood up, “this was wrong, you’re lying. You will never leave my mother,” you run around to room, trying to fix yourself.

“How can you be so fucking stubborn. I’m going to divorce her, you get that? I will leave her for you, we can be together. You won’t marry that boy, milyy.” Even Bucky was getting fed up by now, he just wanted you and no one else.

“Those are just words James. You say this and that but when are you going to do something!” You raised your voice, after all this time and he still didn’t understand it.

“You say that now, you will divorce her, but what if I marry Peter. What then? You keep being married to her? As long as you don’t act on nothing, I will marry him,” you couldn’t let him bring you under his spell again just to hurt you. Peter was good for you and acted when he said something.

Bucky scoffed, he was serious. Everything was ready, Steve made the divorce papers, Natasha searched him a new house and the missing piece was you.

“Honey?” your mom called again and this time you answered, “I'm coming!” You gave Bucky one last glance, “will you act on it, James?”

Bucky couldn’t get one word over his lips, he wanted to and he already did act on it, but why was is it so hard to say something?

His silence was defining for you, you shock your head with a glare and walked out to your mother who was excitingly awaiting you, “everything alright?” she asked. You smiled, it was forced but she didn’t seem to notice, “I will walk down alone,” was all you could say.

Your mother was confused, why wouldn’t you let Bucky walk with you? Before she could ask you were on your way and the ceremony began.

Peter smiled, even shed tears as he saw you, however your tears were of hurt instead of happiness. As it began you noticed Bucky coming back in the corner of your eye and whisper something to your mother which left her shocked. A hint of hope sparked in your chest.

Everything went like it should, you said your vows, even were able to say ‘I do’ which to you felt more painful than it should have. “Does anyone here have something against this union? Speak now or be silent forever,” the priest said.

“I do,” a deep, familiar voice said. Shocked everyone turned to the one who those word belonged to, all eyes on Bucky, James, “I have something against it.”

𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑻𝑾𝑶 — @smile1318 @wintasssoldier @xcaptain-winterx @georgiapeach30513 @alina02 @jobean12-blog @antisocialwritingx @broadwaybabe18 @waddlenut @buckymcu12 @witchybabel | @ozwriterchick @daemonslittlebitch @alana4610 @hockeybae @ravens-junk-journal

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | @sstanhoe-updates blog where new fics will always be reblogged in case you're not interested in the taglist as it has conditions

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 20: FINAL

So guess what I realized this morning. Today, November 13, 2023 is the one year anniversary of me posting my first DPxDC fic to tumblr. It was the original fill for this very fic. (Which you can find here.)

So I decided I just had to finish this arc and get it posted. This year has been amazing and so much fun. I've become a much better writer and joined a community that has brought me so much joy. I'm glad to be here and I'm glad so many of you like to read what I'm sharing.

I noticed I got a few new readers over the past week or so, so welcome to all of you! Hope you enjoy this early update!

In personal news, my nephew was born and he's adorable and I'll be meeting him tomorrow! (As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm off to make food for his mom.)

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Arc 1

Arc 2: Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

In the end, it ended up taking several hours for Danny, Sam, and Tucker to escape their families and converge on the park. In that time, Tim had called Bruce to let him know he’d be back in Gotham by tomorrow and finished most of his homework.

While he worked, Wulf and Bart were having an animated conversation in Esperanto.

Tim was pretty sure Wulf would be bringing Bart to the Ghost Zone for a tour sometime and started making plans to learn Esperanto himself and bribe Bart to get in on them.

Cassie was helping Conner sort through some of the music Sam had given him. Tim was jealous as he solved more banal trig questions. Why did school have to be so boring? He tapped his pencil on the paper in time to the beat of whatever music Conner had playing.

Tucker was the first to arrive. “Danny and Sam not here yet?” he asked as he plopped down next to Bart and Wulf.

“Nope. Haven’t heard from them, either,” said Tim. He opened his phone notifications again just to be sure, but there was nothing new.

Tucker shrugged and pulled out a stick of jerkey to munch on. “Not surprising. The Fentons will be all overprotective after the mayor was kidnapped by a ghost on live TV. And Sam’s parents are just as bad. Only they smother rather than check the weaponry.” He turned to greet Wulf in Esperanto.

An email came through on Tim’s phone and he groaned. “Our evening interview was canceled. No one wants to hear us try to defend Phantom anymore.”

Cassie cursed. “Course not. Bet the paper won’t publish our editorials either.”

Conner looked over, confused. “Won’t they? Clark works for the Daily Planet. They publish stuff like that all the time.”

Tim didn’t look up from his math as he answered, “That’s the difference between a big, Pulitzer winning publication and a small-town op-ed.”

Tucker sighed. “Well maybe someone will remember your interviews from this morning in a positive light.”

Bart rolled his eyes. “Come on, we can’t change it. So let’s move forward. Next step, make friends with more ghosts! Wulf says there’s a bunch of cool people in the Realms.”

“Realms?” asked Tim.

“It’s what he says the Ghost Zone is actually called. The Infinite Realms.”

“Huh. I’ll have to check JL databases, see if they have any information on them.”

Tucker asked something in Esperanto and Bart burst out laughing as Wulf looked on in confusion.

With Bart’s help, though, he rephrased until Wulf was able to reply. And then the three kept to Esperanto. Tim really had to find time to learn it.

Sam was the next to arrive. She grinned and sat down next to Conner. “How you liking the music?”

Conner grinned and showed her the sheets where he ranked the bands so far based on which songs he’d listened to. She then took over the speakers and searched for specific tracks to try and change his mind about some of the bands he liked the least.

Tim let his eyes close as his friends’ voices washed over him.

After some indeterminate time where he dozed between sleeping and awareness, a foot nudged his hip. Tim grumbled out what was supposed to be a, “What?” but was too mumbled to really be understood.

“Come on, Secrets. You can do better than that.”

Tim cracked an eye open to see Danny grinning down at him. He pushed himself up slightly and blinked heavily in the sunlight.

“Finally got away from your parents?” asked Tim.

Danny collapsed on the ground next to him. “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re freaking out over everything that’s happened the last few days. Jazz and I are basically going to be on lock down until they feel confident the ghosts are gone.”

“Did you have to sneak out to get here?” asked Cassie.

Danny shook his head. “No, I told them I was going to find you guys to make sure you were all safe. You’re welcome to come back to ours tonight, by the way. Mom and Dad basically insisted on it.”

“What do you guys think?” asked Tim. “Spend one more night here at Danny’s and head out in the morning?”

Cassie sighed. “My mom’s already freaking out that I’ve been gone longer than planned. I should get back tonight.”

“I’ll stay,” offered Conner. “I’m your ride home, anyway.”

“Why don’t you come to my place, Conner,” offered Sam. “Your nails need a fresh coat after fighting today. And I need teach you about the different brands of makeup and what to look for in terms of cost, quality, and ethicality. Plus I can get you more music.”

Tim laughed when Conner looked to him. “Go for it. Have fun.”

Conner grinned. “Then yeah, let’s do it!”

Bart shrugged. “Wulf is going to go back to the Realms soon. I’ll head out after. Wally and Linda want me over for a family dinner tonight.”

“Well, looks like that’s it, then,” sighed Danny. “Been fun having other heroes around.”

Tim nudged his shoulder. “Join the Young Justice. You could join us and we'd help out whenever you wanted. Get you around people who actually appreciate what you do for them.”

But Danny was already shaking his head. “I have to stay here. And now Amity trusts heroes even less. I want to improve that, not make it worse.”

“Even if you don’t join,” declared Conner. “You’re not getting rid of us now.”

Bart nodded his agreement. “Yep. We’re gonna be stopping by all the time. You’re in the group chat.”

“Exactly,” agreed Tim. “And we’ll figure out ways to help you. Starting with how to minimize property damage. That seems to be the big thing people focus on. You can make shields, right? How big can you make them and how much power do they take?”

Danny smiled wryly. “Can’t say I’ve really tested it.”

Tim laughed. “Well, I know one thing we’re doing tonight. We’re going to go back to Nasty Burger—” Tim looked around at the whole group “—all of us. Then Cassie and Bart are going to go home. Danny and I, at least, are going to take a nap. Then we’re gonna test the current limits to Danny’s powers.”

Danny bumped their shoulders together. “You know, this is just like gaming with you all those years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s best to be thorough.”

“We’ve measured, like, his top speed and stuff,” said Tucker, pulling out a PDA. “Want to see what we’ve got so far?”

“Absolutely.” Tim took the device and looked through it. “You’ve a decent amount of information here. Maybe instead of taking a nap, I’ll help you organize it and come up with a testing plan.”

Conner flew over to him and pulled the PDA out of his hand. “Not after pulling an all-nighter you won’t. We’re going to get some food, then the two of you are going to sleep for at least four hours.”

“I’ll set Jazz on you, too,” threatened Sam. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tim pouted as the device was given back to Tucker. And grumbled more when Conner picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Come on, food time.”

“I am going to put kryptonite in your phone,” threatened Tim.

“Bingo!” shouted Cassie.

Danny laughed as he stood. “Does this mean I can join the next round?”

Tim scowled. “Traitors, all of you.”

-----

Next

And that's the end of this Arc! Arc 3 will pick up where the original fill did. (Only this time, Tim won't be the only DC character there to help Danny.)

I'd say something like I can't believe it's only been a year, but so much has happened to me in the last twelve months that it feels like a lifetime ago, to be honest. But it's been a good year and I'm glad this community has been part of it.

Please follow the subscription post if you want updates for when I start transferring this arc to AO3 or begin posting Arc 3.

[lovebvni]

EGO; a callout.

unknowingly, for years now, i’ve been struggling with my own inner ego. what was that ego doing? basically telling me to never take no for an answer.

i want to preface by saying this doesn’t have to be a sign for you, you could be following me and have seen this and i’m a relatively large account here on tumblr, somehow. this also does not apply to all things. this, for the most part, does not apply to reality shifting. when you ask “i’m i going to shift at ‘x’ time and you get a ‘no’, that doesn’t mean give up! there’s a difference between PERSISTENCE (positively defying odds) and NEGATIVE DEFIANCE. i just so happen to negatively be defying what im told.

this post is to simply inform, help people with self concept, and for me to move forward. this will be me exposing myself negatively and some humiliation so i can move forwards. this is not negative self talk, this is putting down the ego that has controlled me for so long.

let me also say ego is something all of us have. how much of it you have determines if it’s good or bad.

since i was young, i was always pushy. i would force my friends to do things i didn’t personally want to do, persuade my parents (because they are divorced) to give me special things because i was sad… and because of that i didn’t like being told no. i still don’t. whenever the word “no” or “not this time” came out of someone’s mouth, i would get angry and throw tantrums. i would take it out on THEM because THEY didn’t see my best interest in mind.

to this day, i am like that. if my mother called me and i asked her to buy me something that i could buy myself, and she said no, i would probably really pissed off at her and shut her out. she’s providing for two kids and two dogs and I have the NERVE to ask her to take money out of HER paycheck from a job SHE just got to buy me something i can ACTIVELY afford myself? no, bitch. that’s fucking ego.

just recently, i had a show, and my mom told me glue eyelashes were harmful, so she didn’t want me getting them for a church show. i didn’t like that answer so i ARGUED with her in PUBLIC about getting FAKE EYELASHES WITH HER MONEY for a SHOW. not even for personal use or to go to school, for a show. a one time thing that would not be long term.

when i finally pushed her over the edge and she caved, i bought them, tried them, used them, and didn’t like them. i went back to the store a week and a half later to return them.

i thought I KNEW what was best for me, and even if i did, i still IGNORED my mothers guidance, went against her will, and did what I WANTED TO DO.

WHAT YOU WANT TO DO ISNT ALWAYS THE RIGHT THING. YOU NEED TO HAVE DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES FOR A REASON! why do you think most shifters and manifestors only shift/manifest after being in a community and getting guidance? BECAUSE THEY HAVE A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE.

this has happened a lot to me, with friends, advisors, teachers, and more. yet i’m going to be a cunt and decide only I know what’s best for me. that, inherently, is not true. the voice in your head or heart is not always telling you the truth, sometimes it’s making you delusional.

this can also be flipped on its head, as you can absolutely be right but you allow yourself to be walked all over. this is a lack of ego. you let everyone else’s words guide you and never ask your intuition or inner self for help until it’s too late.

you’re neglecting yourself, and i believe it’s a form of self hatred.

you need to find a balance, and a balance for you. don’t allow yourself to be stepped on, but allow yourself to be pushed in directions you don’t like all the time.

live in your truth, but without rose-coloured glasses or a log in your eye. Or how can you say to your neighbor, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye' while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor's eye." Matthew 7:4-5.

from a place that was hiding in my heart,

the abyss

[iam-stargirl]

What I have manifested 🩷

My first post will be about some of the stuff I have manifested. I won’t write every single thing because I don’t remember it all, both “big” or “small”. And I will write a little backstory for them as well for anyone that's curious :)

My first job: I had zero experience and I was told during my interview that it was very unlikely for me to get the job and that they had other people wanting the job as well that were better qualified for the job because they had experience. I didn't waver and just said "okay" with a smile. A couple of weeks later he calls me and says I got the job.

Clear skin: for many years I had acne and pimples which made me very insecure. I tried many different skin care products that had worked wonderfully for many others, but when I used them they didn't work for me. I then affirmed that I had clear skin. After a while I found this product and just had a feeling that I should try it out. Surprise, surprise it worked! My mom was in shock at how much clearer my skin was and how fast it happened, and so was I.

My computer: I had wanted a new computer for a long time as my previous one was really old and I wanted to make an investment in a good one. I listened to a subliminal about manifesting what you want from your Pinterest board by "i want it, i got it" subliminal channel. I made a Pinterest board with the computer I wanted and affirmed “I love my new computer” while listening to it once. I went out shopping with my mom the same day and saw they lowered the price for the computer I wanted. I was so happy but then I thought about how much money I had. It was enough, but if I bought it, I wouldn’t have much left at all, almost nothing. But then I checked my bank account and i had way more money than the day before and I was like ??? I decided to buy it. 

Getting rid of pain: I started getting pain in my hand and it kept getting worse during the day. Later that same day (evening I think?) I could barely move any part of my hand including my fingers. And it was my dominant hand so it was difficult. Just the slightest movement and it would hurt so much. I didn’t know what to do. I tried different things that should’ve helped, but nothing. I then decided to command my subconscious to get rid of the pain because it was getting unbearable and felt like it would either stay like that or get worse. A couple hours later I noticed the pain had lessened but it was still there. Ngl this made me doubt if I could even manifest it away completely. But then I decided to affirm that the pain was completely gone. I kept affirming and affirming even though the 3d showed me the opposite. Eventually i just “went on with my life” and didn’t focus on the pain. The next morning it was GONE. 

Figuring out my gender: One day I would think I was a cis woman. Couple of days later I thought I was a trans man. Then genderfluid then ... It just went in circles for so long. I was so confused and my mental health was bad. It was a very long, sad and exhausting journey and it would be too long to write. And other things in my life were not how I wanted them to be either so I felt horrible in general. But then I read divineangelbee’s tumblr post about commanding the subconscious mind. I was done with all this confusion so I decided to give it a try. I commanded my subconscious to show me in my dream what gender I am.. Next day I woke up and remembered a dream I had. I saw the flags and i just knew that was the answer I had been looking for so long. I finally knew who I was and found peace.

My mom getting an apartment: She was unhappy with the apartment we lived in and wanted to move but she didn’t believe it would be possible. I affirmed even with “bad” circumstances popping up. I affirmed even when my mom was worried because of the why and the how and the money… Time goes by and then she tells me she’s been chosen for one of the many apartments she’d been looking at. She was so happy and we moved soon after!

I hope you enjoyed this!

Stargirl

[sgiandubh]

What about Grandma then? In recent days, that Barbour issue has been discussed in several corners of this fandon, as you said. Well, the day before yesterday Garance was posting stories showing off his Barbour coats...Obviously those two also follow the topics discussed on Tumblr. 🤷‍♀️

Dear Garance Anon,

You will have to forgive me for the very, very late answer. I wanted to give it my full, undivided attention, because I believe we never spoke seriously about Mrs. Mariline Fiori, aka Garance Doré.

The short answer to your comment is 'oh, but we know they do, as we know they are not the only ones'. Unlike S&C, though, the McGrandmas might see us as a free, useful toolbox of sorts, where readily available ideas congregate. Remember they have deliberately calibrated their public couple personas on exactly what SC are unable and/or unwilling to give/show this fandom. To some extent, it works and, as any good Frenchwoman, Garance understood she was savvy to play the atout charme joker card. Which is exactly what she does - also, being French, she knows exactly what type of European public is instantly attracted to the Barbour reference: a public whose wallets she needs.

But as I just said, your post made me think about Mrs. Doré. Who is she, really? So, sorry, Anon, if I use you as a springboard for my musings.

She was, as I said, born Mariline Fiori, on May 1st (same day as JAMMF, LOL) 1977, in Ajaccio, Corsica's main town and birthplace of Napoleon Bonaparte. Not a Corsican, though (same as Napoleon, LOL): Italian father, French/Algerian mom. People who left Algeria when it became independent, after the Evian Peace Accords, and whom the metropolitan French still call, to these day, 'pieds-noirs' (literally and quite derogatorily, 'black feet'). Her family's social status is, however, a bit unclear, as Mrs. Fiori successively played with her personal story in interviews, in what the French also sarcastically call 'des petits arrangements avec la vérité'/ a bit of tinkering with the truth.

In this 2019 interview to Elle UK, for example, her parents are described as owning a restaurant in Corsica (https://www.elle.com/uk/life-and-culture/a29758314/garance-dore-original-influencer/):

But in another 2013 interview to The Talks, her mother was a shrink (https://the-talks.com/interview/garance-dore/):

Also, for the sake of clarity:

Oh, well: different country, different crowd/market, different agenda and perhaps older and wiser when talking to Elle UK, you would think?

Not necessarily and still a divisive figure for the international press/blogosphere. People did not appreciate her frequent flying and luxury travels during COVID, for example, along with her 'white, bourgeois woman entitlement'. Both in New Zealand...

(Source: https://www.ensemblemagazine.co.nz/articles/garance-dore-new-zealand - I think you should read the entire article, as it is absolutely enlightening, also something I wouldn't go polemic about, you make up your own mind, really).

...and in France, where they apparently are not very fond of her 'cult of personality' approach to social media, to say the least:

(Source: https://www.madmoizelle.com/a-t-on-vraiment-besoin-de-preter-attention-aux-conseils-antivax-des-influenceuses-1145916 Non Francophones could use Google Translate, but considerably lose in doing so the ferocity of the writing - but then, again, the French press is particularly sarcastic & ferocious, when set against someone or something. I love them to bits.)

The translation is clear, and I deliberately did not insist on the political stance of the article, whose title gives a straightforward idea: 'Do we really have to pay attention to the influencers' antivax advice?':

'This influencer cannot singlehandedly convert a part of her fans to antivaxing, via Instagram, but this comforts those who already thought so and keeps them even more hooked. This is because Instagram is a social media whose model heavily relies on shared affinities, meaning that it congregates likeminded people and creates bubble phenomena, of which GD is a good example.

GD, who built an empire around her handle which she turned into a brand and transformed her own lifestyle into her best product might very well turn her cult of personality into an economic model. Many celebrities already do so and are perfectly entitled to. But in her case, we are not talking about sending a birthday personalized cameo, we are talking about dispensing health advice during a pandemic.'

Truly, Ha-wa-wee 2.0 sounds like kindergarten compared to the above and never made it so far and wide in the international press. But hey, don't we know, double standard is the law of this land.

But to cut the story short, because it's 5 AM in here and we'd be talking about Mrs. McGrandma until tomorrow evening, do we really imagine someone so well versed in the ways and means of social media not following Tumblr?

Yeah, thought so, too.

[spine-buster]

portofino ft. kenny omega

gif credit @/stukky

Length: 23k Summary: You and Tyson have history.  Lots of it.  When you met, you could have never envisioned he would be in your life the way he still is.  But things get complicated, and tricky, and complex.  Things hurt – lots of things hurt.  And things can only get worse before they can get better, right? A/N: my first wrestling fic since 2017. The formatting and spacing on this is super fucked up and not idea and I apologize for that, but Tumblr's new and "improved" text editor is literally the fucking worst and glitches SO much that the most I could do was this. This will also be posted on my AO3 (@/spinebuster) if you prefer there!

10th May 2023

it only hurts this much right now was what i was thinking the whole time

You were crying again.

At this point, you were basically just leaking.

You didn’t want Tyson to find out, so you tried with all your might to stop yourself, rubbing away your tears with the back of your hand and trying to steady your breathing.  You breathed in and out, in and out, in and out.  You hoped no-one else around noticed.  But it was hard when there were so many people, hard when you were friends with practically all of them, hard when any little hint of water or redness of your eye could cause someone like Austin or Hikaru or Dustin to speak up and ask you what was wrong.  You almost wanted to hide in a closet until you calmed down, but that was childish. 

You went into one of the washrooms backstage anyway, not bothering to go into a stall but checking them all quickly anyway to ensure nobody else was with you.  When you knew you were clear, you stood in front of the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror.  Your cheeks were red, your eyes were watery.  You sighed.

“Get it together, Hazel,” you mumbled to yourself.  You so desperately needed to get it the fuck together.  “Stop crying.  You’re such a baby.”

The pep talk didn’t help much.

***

“Have you seen Hazel anywhere?” Tyson asked Nick as he unraveled the tape around his wrists.

“Nah,” he answered, shaking his head.  “Probably went back to the hotel a bit early.”

“Why would she do that?” Tyson asked.  Matt, from behind his brother, gave one of his best friends a look.  “Oh.  Right,” Tyson realized.

“Don’t think she wants to hang out here anymore than she needs to,” Nick commented.

“Can you blame her?” Matt asked his brother.

“Not in the slightest.”

***

You had the TV on for background noise as you went about your routines and wandered aimlessly around the hotel room.  It was pitch black outside in Detroit; you couldn’t even see anything out the window besides the lights from the hotel parking lot.  What a view.  You tried to distract yourself with the TV, sitting down on the suite’s couch, but you couldn’t even do that.  Your legs pushed you back up to wander more.  You’d check your phone and texted your mom back.  You texted Hikaru that maybe brunch would be a better idea tomorrow instead of meeting her in the lobby for the continental breakfast, knowing what tomorrow morning would probably look like. 

At some point, you heard some noise and voices from outside your room.  Not long after, the sounds of a key card swiping, and finally the turn of the doorknob.  You were greeted with Tyson – or, more so, Tyson was greeted with you, since you were the one in his room.  It wasn’t a surprise that you were there, but it was still a welcome sight.  It was better than being alone.

“Hey,” you greeted him.  It had been about an hour since you stopped crying, so you hoped your eyes and face had stopped showing it.

“Hazel, hey,” he said, smiling at you, despite what he had just been through.  He wheeled his bag in behind him before the door shut on its own.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied.  “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” he shrugged.  He’d been saying that a lot lately.  You hated when he did.  “You left early.”

You nodded quickly, apologetically.  “I didn’t want to stick around.  Knowing that he’s lurking around, you know…I just didn’t want to have to deal with it.”

“I didn’t even see him, for what it’s worth.  If you stayed in our locker room you would’ve been good.”

The two of you didn’t even have to say his name for you to understand.  In some ways, you were glad he acted as a buffer, an excuse you could pull, that way you could hide why you really left early.  “I watched most of the match, I swear.  Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“When was that?”

“When you guys broke the cage,” you were finally honest, just slightly.

“So you didn’t see Don stab me with a screwdriver.”

You winced.  “No.  But you at least told me about that.  You didn’t tell me the cage was going to break.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice solemn.  “You know how these matches get put together.  Things get added.  Things get taken out.”

Did you ever.  But you still couldn’t get used to how…well, violent Tyson’s matches were getting.  Unnecessary violence.  Unnecessary risk.  There was no reason for Tyson to bleed, and now you felt he was bleeding every week.  You didn’t know how much longer you’d last.  “How’s your knee?” you asked, since you saw it get caught up in the cage when it broke, causing you to cry in the first place.  He’d just taken time off for double knee surgery; you were scared he was taking it too far.

“Knees are fine.  As good as they can be,” he assured you.  “Can you…can you help me with something else, though?”

“Of course.  What is it?”

“There’s, umm, there’s some scratches on my back.  I need someone to take off the big bandage, apply this cream the doctor gave me, and tape on a new bandage.”

“Okay,” you nodded slightly.  You’d done a version of this countless times before but it never got easier.  Just like watching him do these kinds of matches never got easier.  “Do you want to sit on the bed?”

He changed out of his gym shorts and into his pyjama shorts first so he could sleep right afterwards.  You watched as he sat on the bed, handing you the ointment.  When you unravelled the bandage, your stomach was in knots about how big it was.  “Ty…”

“It’s going to look worse than it feels,” he warned.  “It doesn’t feel that bad, Hazel.  I promise.”  He took off his shirt then, slowly, grunting slightly.  The bandage covered nearly half his back.  You held your breath, trying to keep your emotions in check.  “The tape that’s holding the bandage in place – it doesn’t hurt.  You can just peel it off,” he instructed.  “I have more for when you put the new one on.”

You started peeling away the tape, discarding it beside you as you.  When it was fully peeled, the bandage still stayed in place, which only meant to you it was sticking onto his skin because of the blood.  You held your breath again as you took the bandage off, but fully gasped loudly in horror, your breath taken away when you saw the state of his back.  “Oh Ty…” you cried.

“Hazel—”

“Tyson, what did you do?  What did you do?” you begged from him.  You brought your hand up, tracing the scratches and cuts delicately with your fingertips.  “Tyson…” he had to hear the pain in your voice.

“I’m sorry, Hazel.  I’m sorry,” he said.  “I’m so sorry.”

And that’s when it began again: the tears.  You grabbed the ointment and unscrewed the cap, taking in the full picture of his back.  You cried silently, tears falling down your face as you would apply small bits of ointment to your fingers before rubbing it along all the scratches.  You would do this for Tyson until the day you died, but you hated that it had to be like this.  The two of you had always looked out for one another – Tyson more so, for obvious reasons, but that was a whole other story – but seeing his body mutilated like this twisted something in you that you couldn’t kick.  It was one thing to see Kenny after a 60-minute match with Okada, body bruised and banged up but all in one piece; it was another thing to see barbed wire and nail scratches, cuts, and footprints on his face.

He winced in pain every so often and you’d keel, hating yourself for hurting him when you were supposed to be helping him.  You tried not to let him hear you cry, but you were sure the couple of sniffles gave it away.  When you finally asked for the tape for the bandage and your voice cracked, you were positive.

Tyson handed you the tape, but turned around slightly to see you.  “You’re crying.  Why are you crying?” he asked.

You shook your head to ignore him.  You unravelled the tape and began ripping strips to use.  “Turn around.”

“Hazel—”

“Sit still.”

Tyson stayed silent.  You positioned the bandage to cover all the scratches before taping it into place.  When you were done, you tossed the tape to the side, the rest of his back looking fairly normal besides the scars you already knew about.  Unable to control yourself, you leaned forward and pressed your cheek to his skin on his back between his shoulder blades, inhaling and exhaling deeply.  Tyson felt what you were doing, the skin-to-skin contact an instantaneous feeling, and breathed in and out along with you.  You savoured the feeling of the Tyson you knew on your skin.  Not mutilated Tyson.  Not banged up Tyson.  Just the Tyson you knew for twelve years, the Tyson who looked out for you, the Tyson who was your mentor.

“I’m sorry, Hazel,” he whispered, his words sincere.  He hated seeing, feeling you so upset.

“Can I stick around tonight?” you asked.

“You never have to ask.  You just can.”

When you crawled to step off the bed, Tyson grabbed your arm to prevent you from going anywhere momentarily.  You wanted to get the feeling of tears off your face, but he had other plans.  You were right at his side, so so close.  “I really am sorry,” he told you.  “I hate seeing you like this.”

Tears were coming again.  You didn’t try to stop them this time.  You still shook your head and tried to wipe them away.  “It’s just getting harder and harder for me to watch you put your body through these hardcore matches,” you admitted.  “Sometimes I just wish you’d stick to what you’re good at.  And that’s not to say you’re not good at the hardcore stuff, because you are – you’re good at everything.  I just wish I didn’t have to see your body be mutilated for the sake of spectacle.  I hate—I hate seeing what you have to do.  You, more than anyone, know how to put on a spectacle without having to do that shit.  I hate seeing you destroy your body, Ty.  I just hate it.  I’m sorry.”

He nodded his head in understanding.  “I know it’s hard.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry,” was all he could say.

Tyson waited for you to wash your face and put on one of his t-shirts before the both of you got into bed.  You wondered if you should get close at all, possibly even touch him, and you were about to decide against him until he winced again, trying to get into a comfortable position.  It was at that point that your body physically moved towards his before your mind knew what it was doing.  It was like a fight-or-flight response.  He found a comfortable position sleeping on his side, and you curled up right against his back like the big spoon, despite being two-thirds his size. 

In the quietness of the room, with the low hum of the air conditioner the only noise, you placed a kiss on his shoulder.  He didn’t say anything, but you knew he felt it.

***

The next morning, you woke up still snuggled into Tyson.  You both had inevitably shifted throughout the night: Tyson was lying on his back, apparently able to do so without pain, while you were sleeping right up against him.  When you opened your eyes, you saw that he was still sound asleep, one arm draped over his chest.

“Haze?” you heard him mumble in a groggy voice.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t fully asleep.  “Hmm?”

“Thank you for last night,” he said.

You didn’t answer right away.  “I’ll always be there to help you, Tyson.  You know that.”

He moved so that the arm that had been squished against you was now around you, pulling you into his body even more than you already were.  The usual smell of him filled your airways; it practically made you drunk.  Drunk enough to fall back asleep, his body bringing you peace as much as it did pain.

***

11th May 2023

time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it i'd like to be my old self again, but i'm still trying to find it

When you were back in Orlando, you settled into the solace of your apartment, unpacking immediately and throwing your clothes in the washing machine.  You were called a psychopath more than once by Stephen for being that type of person – especially after it became a meme on the internet – but you couldn’t help it.  You had even packed Tyson’s shirt that you’d slept in last night, seeing it mixed in with your other clothes before you threw in a Tide Pod and closed the door.

After unpacking, you set your suitcase in your closet and resolved to have a bowl of lime tortilla chips as you sat on the couch and scrolled through Instagram and cuddled with your ragdoll cat, Zadie.  You needed to disconnect from wrestling for a bit, from flashbacks of seeing Tyson’s scratched-up back whipping through your mind every other minute.  But as you sat down on your couch, bowl or tortilla chips in hand, you couldn’t help but notice your most prized belongings: your wrestling accolades you had organized neatly on the wall and in the media unit that surrounded your TV.  Your Match of the Year plaques from 2014 and 2015.  Your Woman of the Year awards.  A women’s belt.  Framed photographs of you wrestling.  Frame photographs of you with your friends.  With your family.  With Tyson.

Sometimes it felt like a lifetime ago and sometimes it felt like you had to retire yesterday.  You had enjoyed an amazing but short career.  You’d had a lot of ups, a lot of downs, a lot of heartbreaks, a lot of memorable moments.  There was the time you’d gone 20-minutes with Toni Storm in a match that ended up getting over a million views on YouTube.  You’d performed in infamous Reseda, in the PWG arena, to the most raucous crowd you’d ever performed in front of.  You had travelled to America, Japan, the UK, Germany, Italy, France, Mexico, and Ireland to wrestle.  You had hype.  You had respect.  People wrote about you.  People paid to see you.  People lined up for you at meet and greets.  People wanted your autograph and your t-shirts at shows, handing you wads of cash for two medium and two kids’ t-shirts so the whole family could match.  While you had made a name for yourself, you’d racked up the injuries too.  There was the broken wrist early on, which wasn’t that bad – from a show in Toronto where you just landed awkwardly.  You were able to finish the match, and thanks to the Canadian health care system you held so dear, it was in a cast just a few hours later.  There was a broken ankle that actually forced you to stay back from a tour of Ireland that many of your friends went on.

At one point in 2014, you were booked to wrestle against a women’s wrestler, fairly new to the scene, named Bea Priestley.  The both of you had gone over the match beforehand, but once in the ring, she did nothing you two spoke about.  That was fine – you were a professional – but Bea was wrestling stiff, and you were getting angrier every passing moment in the ring, even warning her to cool it.  When she actually did one of the sequences you’d called beforehand, she ended up breaking your sternum.  You had to be out for twelve weeks.  You never heard from Bea.  It was fine.  Whatever.

But the next time Bea Priestley wrestled you, she broke your neck.

You told her you didn’t want to take anything too risky.  “Why?  You don’t trust me?” she had the audacity to ask you.  During the match, when she picked you up and flipped you upside down, you knew what was coming, so you tried to get into a safe position.  But none of that mattered.  Nothing would have saved you.

You remembered dropping on you head, and you remember seeing a light, and you remember your whole body going limp.  It felt like you weight a million pounds; you were completely paralyzed from the neck down.  You couldn’t move, and it was the scariest seconds of your life.  Rick Knox immediately noticed.  You closed your eyes and willed your brain to wiggle your fingers, and after about five or six seconds, you felt them rubbing against each other, even just slightly.  You remembered seeing Bea try to kick you, but Rick Knox earnestly holding her back.  When he pushed her far enough away, he knelt down by your head.  “Haze, what happened?” he asked.  You knew your body.  You knew what this was.  You told Rick not to touch you, that you had broken your neck. 

You remember him throwing up one of the most emphatic X’s you’d ever seen and the whole crowd going silent.  Rick was screaming something, but you were focused on the worst pain you’d ever felt in your neck as you began feeling again in your extremities.  After that, so much was a blur.  You remember Austin somehow being beside your face too, telling you everything was going to be okay – you later learned he was watching from the back and ran out the second Rick threw up the X.  You remember Dustin being there too, doing much of what Austin was doing, giving Bea dirty looks – you later learned he was the one who called the ambulance.  Austin and Dustin were very likely the reasons things weren’t worse, the reason why you were still walking. 

At the hospital they ran x-rays and MRIs and other tests, as usual, and they put a neck brace on you.  Dustin had followed you to the hospital to explain everything to the emergency doctors, Austin and Kyle and Candice following close behind in a car.  When the results finally came back, it was even worse than you – than everybody – thought. 

“Your disc hit your spinal cord, which is why you saw the white light,” the doctor explained.  “That’s what caused the temporary paralysis.”

“So I broke it, like I thought,” you wanted the confirmation.  People had recovered from broken necks before.  So many had been able to get back into the ring.

The doctor sighed.  “Miss Fiore…” she began.  “Your disc hit your spinal cord.  You didn’t fracture your neck.  You didn’t break it.  What you suffered is what we refer to as a spinal cord concussion.  You don’t have to sever your spinal cord to be paralyzed for life, you could just touch it and be paralyzed for life.  This…what happened to you…is technically worse.”

You remember feeling as if the blood drained from your body.  “Paralyzed?”

She sighed again.  “Miss Fiore…you have a very, very similar injury to Christopher Reeve.  Your C2 is what controls your breathing.  The truth is, when it hit your spinal cord, you should have suffocated to death in the ring.  Out of the five percent of people that survive this injury, ninety-nine percent are paralyzed.  It’s quite literally a miracle that you are still able to walk.” 

You had emergency spinal fusion surgery less than 24 hours later.  Four screws, a rod, and sixteen staples created a gnarly, awful scar on your neck that was still visible whenever you had your hair up. 

Your wrestling career was over.

Your phone buzzed loudly from your coffee table, breaking your train of thought.  At least it kept you from crying.  When you picked it up, you noticed Tyson’s name flash across the screen.

Want to come up and watch some Netflix or something?  We can even keep watching that German duchess show you like.  Promise.

He lived in one of the penthouses on the 34th floor, while you lived in a two bedroom on the 18th.  How embarrassing was that?  Even your living situations were inextricably linked.  You swiped your phone open and texted him back quickly. 

It’s okay.  I need some time alone.  Let’s go for coffee tomorrow or something.

It was Dustin who had to make the call to Tyson when you were in the hospital.  He was in Japan on a tour, and word hadn’t gotten to him.  Dustin told you he had freaked out on the phone, like completely freaked out.  After your surgery and after all your visitors had left, your room surrounded by flowers and get well soon cards, you FaceTimed him.  He picked up on barely the second ring.  It was the first time you’d ever seen him tear up, though you later learned he didn’t completely break down until after he hung up.  You tried to cheer him up, telling him the first thing you were going to do when you were cleared was go to Japan to see him.  He made you promise not to fly unless a doctor said it was okay.  He had two weeks off in about a month’s time and resolved to stay with you for the duration to help you.  You told him it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted.

Those two weeks were when you realized Tyson would be in your life forever.

You’d still done well for yourself since then.  You ended up starting a variety of projects – a podcast, becoming a semi-influencer on Instagram.  But perhaps most successful, and what kept your memory alive in the hearts and minds of wrestling fans worldwide despite not fighting in the ring anymore, was your YouTube series.  Kick Out in the Kitchen.  A series you started, inspired by the memory of your dad who was a chef, where you invited wrestlers to help you cook increasingly complex dishes.  You’d interview them along the way, teach them how to properly cut an onion, and make sure they didn’t slice off a finger in the process.  It was hysterical, and it was a hit.

Your life was good.  It really was.  You had amazing friends, you had your career, you had your mom in Winnipeg, you had an apartment, you had Tyson.  But sometimes you ached for the past; sometimes you wanted to still be in the ring, winning championships and changing the wrestling landscape just like your close friends were doing.  That just wasn’t in the cards for you, and that’s okay.  But it still hurt sometimes.

Your phone buzzed again, the badge rolling down from the top of your screen. 

Are you sure?  Need to talk?

I’m good.  Thanks Ty <3 see you tomorrow.

***

It all began with Portofino. 

Well, it all really began with Tyson making a remark about how you always carried a book around in your gym bag.  You were in Winnipeg then, training to become a wrestler, and he’d visited the school on a trip home from Japan in 2011.  “I promised my mom I’d graduate university before pursuing wrestling full-time,” you had explained to him.  “She wants me to have a degree.  It’s a non-negotiable.”

The book in question that he saw that day was An Artist of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro.  He was intrigued by the Japanese name of the author more than anything, although when you told him the synopsis, he perked up quite considerably. 

He was 28 at the time.  You were 20.

You were so, so young, but you were the only one that had spoken to him at length about your vision of what pro wrestling is and what pro wrestling could be.  You listened to him more intently than anyone else in your class when he spoke of his time in Japan.  You’d seen the match he had at his cottage.  You saw his match against nine-year-old Haruka and against Yoshihiko the blow-up doll.  Some of your fellow trainees looked at you weird.  You were the only one who had expressed any interest in travelling somewhere other than the United States for pro wrestling – maybe go to the UK, or do a tour of Europe, or, if you were lucky enough, do a tour of Japan. 

By the end of the week, Tyson gave you his number and said if you were ever in Japan to contact him.

You did more than that.  You didn’t just wait the two years between meeting him and graduating to speak to him again.  You actively kept in touch with him.  You became friends as you learned more about each other.  So much so that after local shows on weekends, travelling to Toronto, Calgary, Vancouver, and Pasadena in the summers to wrestle, and graduation, when you arrived in Japan for the first time he picked you up from the airport. 

He looked out for you.  He always did.

He always would.

***

PORTOFINO, 2014

i'd live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time

You found yourself squished in the backseat of a tiny Italian car between Matt Jackson and Kenny Omega, Tommaso Ciampa in the driver’s seat and Nick Jackson in the passenger’s seat.  That’s who they were last night, anyway, participating in matches and stealing the show in Genoa, Italy.  Today, you were just Matt, Tyson, Tommaso, Nick, and Hazel going to Portofino.

The promoter who had lured you all (and more) to Italy for a mini tour had mentioned the famous Italian Riviera town was only an hour away, so on the two days off you had between shows, you all decided to go.  Nick had found the hotel and booked the rooms.  Tommaso volunteered to drive.  A car with Austin, Kyle, Johnny, Candice, and Bobby were following close behind you.

“You’re not squished, are you?  D’you have enough room?” Tyson asked as he looked down at your frame, tiny in comparison to the bulk that surrounded you.

“I’ll live,” you assured him.  “Besides, you’re the one with your knees up to your chin.  Why didn’t you demand the front seat?”

“I couldn’t leave you in the middle between Matt and Nick,” he said, as if it was his moral obligation to protect you from two of the nicest guys on earth.  “Besides, Nick wants to learn more Italian.”

“Nick can barely speak English.”

“Whatja just say about me?” he hissed playfully from the backseat.  A smile spread across Tyson’s face.  “You’re gonna pay for that, Hazel.”

“I’m terrified.”

“You’re fearless, huh?” Tommaso joked from the front seat, looking at you through his rearview mirror.

“Not fearless.  I’m scared of a lot of things,” you clarified, being honest.  “But Matt and Nick aren’t one of ‘em.” 

When you all got into town, you checked into the hotel.  It was obvious that Matt and Nick would share a room together, just like it was obvious Johnny and Candice would, too.  After Austin paired up with Kyle (they were, technically, the other couple on the trip), and Tomasso paired up with Bobby, you and Tyson were inevitably the only pair left.  Was it normal for a young female wrestler to sleep in a room with her mentor during a trip to Italy?  Who knows.  You (and Candice) were used to being the only girls in the room a lot.  This was no different.  All you knew was that it didn’t matter to you: you knew Tyson, and everybody else, and it was the last thing on your mind because what really mattered was that you were in Italy.

Tyson unlocked the hotel room, the both of you pulling your bags in behind you.  There were two single beds placed together in the room, a window and a door out to the balcony providing the perfect cross breeze. 

“Okay, we’re not in a university dorm,” you commented, scoffing at the setup of the beds before pushing them together.  Tyson just watched.  You looked up at him.  “You need sunscreen?”

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded his head.

You found it in your bag and tossed it over to him.  You walked over to the small balcony and stepped out, taking in the view of the harbour from the room.  You guys got lucky, the way that this hotel was even available on such short notice – and five rooms at that.  The sun was shining, there was a slight breeze, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.  That alone told you that it was going to be a great day. 

You had been admiring the view of the harbour so much that you almost didn’t hear Tyson step out and join you on the balcony.  It was so small that between your bodies and the two chairs, it was full.  “Matt and Nick texted to meet in the lobby in fifteen,” he said.  “Are you good with that?”

Your bathing suit was already on underneath your sun dress, so you nodded your head.  “Just need the sunscreen,” you mentioned, and he handed it to you.  You perched your leg up on one of the chairs to slather the sunscreen on your leg, bringing it all the way up to the tops of your thighs.  Tyson couldn’t help but stare at your legs and not the view of the harbour.  You tried not to smile about it and looked away instead.  “Do we know where we’re going, by the way?  Portofino doesn’t exactly have a beach.”

Tyson furrowed his brows.  “How do you know?”

“My dad was from around here, remember?”

Tyson nodded at your reminder.  “That’s right.  Sorry, I forgot.”

You’d told Tyson a lot of stories about your dad since you met him, and every time you told a story, mentioned a characteristic, an odd quirk your dad used to do, he’d always listened intently.  You’d lost your dad to cancer at fifteen years old, and you missed him every day since.  It left a hole in you.  Understanding how close you and your dad were, Tyson always made sure to remember the details.  You mentioned to him once how you actually liked speaking about him because it meant you were keeping his memory alive, and Tyson told you he thought that was the most touching thing he’d ever heard.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you said, moving on to your other leg.  “I remember coming here as a kid.  The beaches are really rocky.  Either we get lucky and there’s nobody, or we have to find our own private place.”

He watched your hands travel up your thighs.  “You should take the reins on that, then,” he said.  You could see his Adam’s apple bob in his neck.  “Tommaso’s Italian is shit.”

You did.  Eventually, when you and the group made it down to the harbour, you asked in your broken Italian where the best place was – you probably sounded like a caveman – and some delightful locals pointed you in the right direction.  Like you remembered, it was rocky, but you found enough spots on huge flat rocks for towels and bags.  The best part was you were right beside a climbable cliff, so you knew all the guys would be doing crazy jumps.  The entire afternoon was spent between tanning on the rocks and cooling off in the water.  You had jumped off the cliff with Candice, with Tyson, and with Austin.  You swam in the water and got your hair wet and let the sunlight hit your face.  You’d caught Tyson’s eye so many times you lost count.  You felt pure happiness.

There was a moment after you jumped off the cliff for the second time with Tyson – a good photo op, according to Matt taking them – where you held hands as your ran and plummeted into the water.  Even underwater, despite the pressure, your hands stayed clasped.  It was only when you got back to the surface that your hands separated.  You could see Tyson’s smile.  “You alright?” he asked.

You only nodded.  You paddled the small distance over to him and attached your whole body to his.  You don’t know what came over you, but you wrapped your legs around his torso underwater, and as you did you could feel his hands go to your thighs.  Your arms wrapping around his shoulders, attaching yourself to him piggy-back style.  He looked behind his shoulder to see you.  “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded again.  “I just feel like being close to you,” you admitted.  “Is that okay?”

There was a slight pause.  “Of course,” he said.  “You want to stay out here for a bit?”

“Yeah.  Just you and me for a little bit,” you said.  “Are you having fun?”

“I’m having the time of my life.”

“It sucks that we only get one day.  This area of Italy is so beautiful.  Have you ever been?”

“No.  This is my first time,” he revealed.  “I’m just happy I’m getting to spend it with you.”

You smiled, giving him as much of a hug as you could by squeezing your limbs around him tighter.  “You’re going to have to come back and spend a decent amount of time here.  I remember coming here when I was nine to visit my dad’s family, and, Ty—Portofino isn’t even the most beautiful town on the water.  And the food – the food!”

He smiled.  “We’re going to have to find a place tonight.  You’ll have to use your Italian again.  Find us the best restaurant in the town.”

There was silence between the two of you, the noise from the waves and from your friends and the other tourists filling the air instead.  You leaned your head forward so it was settled right into his shoulder.  “Hey Ty?” your voice was low this time.

“Hmm?”

“I’m happy I get to spend it with you, too.  Sometimes I feel like all I want to do is spend time with you.”

Tyson felt the same.  His breath caught in his throat.  All he could do was nod.  “Yeah…yeah.”

*

That night, after showering the salt water off and changing into another flowy dress, you all went out for dinner and had the best pasta and fish and wine you’d ever had in your life.  The waiter fell in love with your group and kept bringing you goodies: glasses of wine from the cellar, shots from the bar, extra plates of tiramisu or bombe.  Your stomach was full but your heart was fuller, and you didn’t want the day to end. 

Retiring back to the hotel meant you and Tyson would be alone again.  After the both of you packed away your things so you were already packed for tomorrow morning, you changed into pyjamas and got in to your pushed together beds.  Tyson browsed through his phone a bit before setting it on his beside and turning over to his side to sleep.

You, on the other hand, could not. 

You kept thinking of the feeling of his hands on your body.  It wasn’t like it was a new sensation – you trained with him constantly.  But there was something about the way he touched it when you were both in the water, the way nobody could see how his arms wrapped around you or how his hands went to your thighs to wrap your legs around his body as he gave you a piggy-back ride.  Even at dinner, sitting beside you at the table on the patio overlooking the water, his forearm rubbing up against yours underneath the table since your group was so squished together.

It was electric.  And now, all that electricity was in you with nowhere to go.

So much time had passed that you were 95% sure he was asleep.  If you were to say anything, you’d definitely be waking him up from his beauty sleep.  “Ty…” you mumbled out, still unsure if you even should as you stared up at the ceiling.

“Hazel?”

Well, at least you felt less bad about it now.  “Can you sleep?”

“Nah,” he said.  “Can you?”

“I think the sun today energized my body to the point where I can re-enact Shawn and Bret’s iron man match.”

You could hear Tyson giggle from his side of the bed.  “Are you Bret or Shawn in that scenario?”

“Both.”

He snorted.  You could feel him shift positions so that he could look at you now.  You turned over to your side as well.  “I’m dead serious.  I feel, like, buzzed.”

“I’m sure one of the guys has melatonin if you’re really worried,” he said.

You shook your head.  “I’ll be fine,” you assured him.  “Can I see all the pictures you took today?”

Tyson had learned a long time ago from his good friend Rami Sebei that he should be taking pictures of all the places he went and everything he saw and did (just as Rami did), so he made it a point since then to do just that.  He leaned over and unplugged his phone from the nightstand, and when he began to set back into his spot in bed, you didn’t let him until you had fit yourself into his side.  He didn’t even think twice as you did so, wrapping his arm around your body as you nestled your head against his chest.  You were so close he could smell the product you’d put into your hair.  You giggled through all the photos, at Austin’s terrified face the first time he jumped, versus Matt and Nick contemplating whether they could do a shooting star press into the water.  You saw the pictures he took of you and Candice hugging each other, and the pictures Bobby took of you and Tyson together on the rocks and posing in the shallow part of the water.  The more you laughed and smiled, the more he did too. 

When you’d seen all the photos, Tyson put his phone back on the nightstand but you stayed right where you were.  He laid back, savouring the feeling of your head on his chest, of your arm draped across him, how your fingertips had tip-toed and glided along his skin every time you laughed at a picture.

“Can I ask you a question?” you asked, moving to look at him.

“Of course.”

“How lame did you think I was the first time you met me?”

He giggled again.  So distinct in its sound; you’d be able to hear it from a mile away.  “I didn’t think you were lame at all,” he was smiling at you.  “I was actually shocked at how mature you were for your age, and how much you could talk about pro wrestling – more than anyone else in that class, that’s for sure.  You were a bit of a freak, but I liked you.  I don’t think you’re lame, or were lame.”

“I feel like you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he assured you.  “I’d never lie to you.  Trust me on that one.”

“I’d never lie to you, either,” you said, butterflies in your stomach. 

You were looking right in Tyson’s blue eyes then, hyperaware of the feeling of his fingertips grazing over the skin on your arm.  His sunkissed skin, his eye crinkles, the scruff of his beard – it all added up in making you push yourself up so you could kiss him.  It was very soft at first, but not hesitant, and when you pulled away you looked into his eyes, only to kiss him again. 

He kissed back, moving his lips in perfect sync with yours as you continued, kiss after kiss after kiss.  You don’t know how long you’d been kissing for, but eventually, it was your tongue that grazed his lips first, and soon you were tasting each other.  After more time, he pushed back slightly so you were on your back, and gently, gently he got on top of you. 

“Is this okay?” was the only thing he mumbled between when you started kissing and that moment. 

“Please, Ty,” you nodded your head slightly and quickly.  “We’ve been waiting all day.”

You both took it slow, surprisingly, despite all the pent up energy from the day.  You wanted to make it last.  Tyson’s body loomed over yours for a while, kissing your lips and your neck with such expertise you hadn’t experienced from anywhere else.  You remembered cradling his face and running your fingers through his curly hair and thinking to yourself how lucky you were to be under him, to be with him like this so intimately.  It wasn’t just that he’d been kind to you from the beginning, or that he’d taken you under his wing and acted as your mentor, especially in Japan, or that he’d looked out for you anywhere you found yourselves.  It was that he was so considerate in his everyday life, so wise and so funny – God, did he ever make you laugh – and so passionate about his dreams and goals.  A translation of that was happening right now, on a twin bed in a hotel room in Portofino, Italy.

Tyson had already been shirtless in bed, so all you really had to do was push down his boxers.  You could feel the length and size of him against your body then, and your breath could only hitch in your throat in anticipation of what was to happen very soon.  Your breathing got heavier as he helped you pull off your pyjama top, and you didn’t feel an ounce of self-consciousness as he looked down at your nearly naked body.  He brought his kisses down your chest and along both your breasts before pulling down your bottoms. 

He kissed you as he entered you, but you broke it as you let out a soft “Oh Jesus” at the feeling.  His lips left yours and looked into your eyes then, making sure everything was okay without even saying anything.  He grabbed each of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers before pushing them above your head, looking deep in to your eyes without looking away.  You began moaning softly, involuntarily, at the pressure you felt of him holding you in that position as he moved in and out of you, your hips crashing together with every one of his thrusts.  His eyes were blue – so blue – but you knew they were filled with fire.  You were sure that your moans got slightly louder as the time passed, mixed in with your pants of his name every time he hit just the right spot.

At some point he let go of your hands and they immediately went to cup his face, pulling him down to kiss you so you could stick your tongue down his throat again.  You didn’t stop kissing after that, your hands making their way up and down his torso, gripping on to his sides before moving up and settling underneath his arms and scratching at his shoulders and back.  You were in heaven.  Everything felt like pure bliss.  The endless kisses, the moans from you and the moans from him.  You had never felt anything so incredible in your life.

You noticed when Tyson’s breathing became more laboured, and you knew he was close.  You were too.  You dug your nails into his shoulders and tried to arch your hips just right.  Hearing him grunt and let out a string of expletives under his breath was all you needed to do it again.  “I’m so close,” you whispered, looking right into his eyes.

“Hazel…fuck…” was all he could let out.

“I want you to come inside me, Tyson.”

He didn’t last much longer after that, but he made sure you got there first.  He looked into your eyes the whole time as he watched your orgasm overcome you, coursing through your body and making you moan out his name and dig your nails into his biceps.  Only then did he allow himself his release, coming inside you, a series of grunts and moans of your name leaving him as he had his head buried in the crook of your neck.

You stayed together for a while, relishing in every last bit of what had just happened between you before Tyson couldn’t hold himself up on his forearms anymore.  There was one last, long kiss before he pulled out of you.  He lay by your side, still so close to your body.  You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, and when you turned your head to look at him, he had an identical smile on his face, too.

Despite earlier complaints from the both of you of being unable to fall asleep, you had no trouble doing so now, your eyes feeling heavy and fluttering until you fell into a peaceful sleep.

*

The next morning was quiet except for the sound of birds chirping outside your window.  The light was shining through from the morning sun, and when you opened your eyes and finally came to at least semi-consciousness, you saw and felt Tyson’s body underneath yours.  He had an arm wrapped around you and were using him as a pillow.

Memories of what happened last night flooded your mind as you waited for him to wake up.  From looking at the photos of the day to kissing him and then being under him, you remembered everything in vivid detail.  You hadn’t been part of something so passionate in your life.  It could have only happened with Tyson, too – you couldn’t picture it being with anyone else. 

After a while, you felt him shift underneath you and groan, bringing his free hand up to rub his eyes.  You began to trace shapes on his chest so he knew you were awake too.  When he looked at you, a small, tired smile played on his lips.  “Mornin’,” he whispered.  “You good?”

“I’m good,” you nodded.  “You sleep okay?”

“It was perfect.”

You smiled.  “Even with me hogging the covers?”

“You actually didn’t this time.  I was surprised,” he said, pulling your body so you were anchored right on top of his.  He wiggled a bit to get comfortable, shifting the beds.  “You were right about what you said last night, by the way.  We’d been waiting for a while.”

You bit your bottom lip, nodding slightly.  “You felt it too then, huh?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “Of course I did.”

There was silence between you.  Suddenly, a feeling came over you like lightning, seizing your whole body.  You never used to be like this, but once you lost your dad, your emotions sometimes came in quick rushes – tsunamis, you sometimes referred to them – and you could never stop it from happening.  You just had to learn how to deal with it, how to verbalize the emotion to solve it so you could go back to normal.  This time, it wasn’t one of self-consciousness, or full-blown anxiety, or fear of the unknown, or anything major.  It wasn’t even hesitation.  It was just a nervousness; a nervousness of the soul.  “This isn’t gonna change anything between us, is it?” you asked, verbalizing the first thing you became nervous about.  Not having Tyson in your life wasn’t an option at this point. 

“No,” he shook his head.  “No it won’t.”

“And this won’t – I mean, you’re not gonna think differently about me, are you?” you continued.  “Because I don’t – I know what it’s like for women in this business.  I don’t want anybody thinking of me differently because of what we did—”

“Hey hey hey, shhhhh,” Tyson cooed.  “Nobody’s going to think differently about you.  Don’t think that.  Nobody’s gonna know.  It’ll stay between you and me, Hazel.  I mean it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.  Not having the career you worked so hard to build also wasn’t an option at this point.  People not respecting you wasn’t an option in general.  You knew that respect would be gone if people knew you’d slept with your mentor.  You could already imagine the things that would be said.  You’d never earn anything on your own merit anymore; it would always be because you slept with Kenny Omega. 

“Hazel, I would never,” he shook his head.  “Like I said, we’d been waiting for a while.  It happened.  I don’t—I mean, I don’t think either of us regrets it—”

“—I don’t.”

“—Neither of us regrets it, but I don’t want anybody to know either.  Nobody has to know, anyway.  It’s nobody’s business but our own.”

That had calmed you down considerably.  You were thankful he was so level-headed, thankful that he was so private in his dealings and personal life that you honestly didn’t have to worry.  He wasn’t like so many others who would say one thing and do another; lead you on and then get with another girl.  You had no worries that any of your friends or fellow wrestlers would ever know.  You were able to keep your mouth shut.  So was Tyson.  “This is like Take This to Your Grave.  You know, like the Fall Out Boy album?” you couldn’t help but quip.

Tyson snorted, rolling his eyes.  “Hazel, were you even alive when that album came out?”

“HEY!” you jolted up, causing the beds to wiggle again.  “I’ll have you know that was a seminal album in my life.  “I was twelve and—”

“Oh my God, please stop talking right there,” he stressed.  “Do not say another word.”

You smirked.  “Did I just make you feel really o—”

“—Oh shit.”

You paused.  “What?”

“—ohshitohshitohshit—”

“—What?!—”

“—Hold on!”

Tyson wrapped both his arms around you protectively, and before you knew it, you both had fallen through the beds.  You yelped during the drop, but once you realized what had happened, you couldn’t stop laughing.  Tears were falling from your eyes, rolling off of Tyson as he groaned from the impact – he took the brunt of it after all. 

“Christ Almighty,” he grumbled through your hysterical laughs.  He couldn’t keep the smile off his face.  “That was worse than some bumps I’ve taken in the ring.”

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you managed to get out in a high-pitched voice between your hysterical laughter.  “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this hard in my life.”

“Yeah, funny for you because I saved you!”

You propped yourself up on your forearm.  Your cheeks were red from laughing, wet from the tears.  “Let me kiss you one last time to make it better.”  Except you didn’t wait.  You just lowered your face and planted your lips on his.  You didn’t know what you meant the kiss to be, but it lasted longer than anticipated, only stopping when the alert from Tyson’s phone went off.  Only then did you pull away.  “That must be Nick or Matt texting about breakfast.  We should clean ourselves up and go.”

Tyson didn’t say anything as he watched you rise from the floor, not bothering to wrap the top sheet or comforter around your naked body.  He stayed on the floor in between the beds as he heard the shower turn on, closing his eyes. 

***

28th May 2023

criticize the way you fly when you're soaring through the sky shoot you down and then they sigh and say, "she looks like she's been through it"

You always found Las Vegas to be way too hot.  It was a decent enough city, and you’d had some fun there, but the heat was always something you could never get over.  Double or Nothing meant that there were so many people and personalities at T-Mobile Arena.  You hung out mostly in the women’s locker room.  At least there, you knew you were safe.

“You haven’t run into him, have you?” Hikaru asked discreetly, chomping down on a baby carrot. 

You shook your head.  “Nah.  But I’ve kinda just been laying low in here.  I hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.”

“That’s impossible,” Hikaru said.  “You can stay in here the whole night if you have to.  I mean, he’s gotta talk to Tyson about what’s happening in a few weeks, right?”

“Yeah.  Worst case scenario I walk in on them during that.”

“Well, if you do, you call me so I can whoop his ass for you.  It’s been a long time coming for that punk ass bitch.”

You couldn’t help but snort at her words.  She had obviously been informed well about the transgressions that had been committed and she was firmly Team Hazel.  Not that it was ever any doubt – you and Hikaru had been great friends ever since your days in Japan.  But the main different between you was that Hikaru would follow through – if she said she was going to whoop someone’s ass, she’d whoop someone’s ass.  You’d mostly just cry about it in an abandoned washroom and in a hotel room afterwards.  It was your specialty.

“You’ve always been my girl, Hikaru.  What would I do without you?” you quipped with a smile.

Hikaru smirked.  “Don’t even go there, girl.  It all comes from here, by the way,” she said, pounding lightly on her chest where her heart was.  “I got you, Hazel.  You want me to grab you something from catering?”

You shook your head, standing up from your chair.  “I shouldn’t be afraid to go get food,” you said.  “You want more carrots?”

Your walk to catering was eventful, having a chat with Christopher Daniels along the way.  Once you got there, you grabbed a plate of food, some Gatorade, and a Greek salad.  You didn’t see Tony Schiavone creep up behind you, but he was a welcome partner to chat with as he picked up some dinner too.  The two of you walked through the halls together, chatting like old friends as your food got cold.  You didn’t really care, because every chat with Tony was so lively, and he expressed serious interest in appearing on Kick Out in the Kitchen.  When you said goodbye as Tony disappeared into one of the guys’ locker rooms, Greg left the one across the way.  The door was slow to close.  You’d think for all the money Las Vegas had, doors would close properly in their arena.

“Right, and so many people shat on her even though it wasn’t her fault,” you heard an all-too-familiar voice from the locker room.  “She got heat for it for months.  She’d be crying every night because all the shitty girls didn’t want to wrestle her.  And when she got to Japan, she already had a reputation.  Took a lot of convincing to get her into promotions.  Bea knew what she was doing in the ring but she got such a bad rap.”

“But you guys broke up a while ago, no?” said another voice.

“Mistakes happen in the ring all the time,” you heard one more voice.

“All the time,” the familiar voice said.  Then a giggle.  “It’d be much harder now to pick her up and drop her on her head, if you know what I mean.”

Everyone in the room, whoever they were, were giggling.  Snickering, even, at his comment about your body.  You froze in place, and by the time their conversation started up again, the door had finally closed, their voices gone.

Your body had inevitably gone through a change after you were forced to stop wrestling.  You had been in such great shape – you had to be, for heaven’s sake – and had worked out often.  But once you broke your neck and had to get the fusion surgery, most of it had to stop.  It might put too much stress on your neck in ways you never thought possible, your doctor said.  And truth be told, you were too scared to do anything too tenuous, because like the doctor told you, you should have suffocated to death in the ring and it was a miracle you were even walking in the first place.  This meant that you had gained weight – about thirty pounds, when all was said and done.  But because of your physique beforehand, it was noticeable.  You didn’t look like a wrestler with muscles and abs anymore, but you still looked like, well, a normal woman with some meat on her bones.  You weren’t unrecognizable.  Nobody cared, nobody commented on it.

Except, apparently, Will Ospreay. 

You don’t know what came over you, but you dropped everything but the Gatorade into the next trashcan you saw.  You felt that if you ate anything, it would just come back up.  That’s how much your stomach was in knots at his comment.  And the laughs.  God, you wished you had just barged in to see who was laughing at the comment, at your body.  Nobody had any idea what you went through, and how bad you took the news that you could never wrestle again.  It ate away at you for months, years even, and now these men were laughing about how your body had changed because of that life-altering event?  Fuck them.  And fuck Will Ospreay.

The same Will Ospreay that had endeared you when you were younger.  The same Will Ospreay that you fancied, that kissed you and made out with you and strung you along for months, always saying no to firm commitment but always calling you late at night to hook up or have fun.  The same Will Ospreay who told you that you could be clingy and overbearing despite not being clingy or overbearing.  The same Will Ospreay that led you on, letting you believe you were the only one.  The same Will Ospreay that sent you a simple text when you had broken your neck and never paid you a visit.  The same Will Ospreay that began hooking up with Bea so soon afterwards that you were sure there was overlap.  The same Will Ospreay that began to date her only a few weeks after your surgery, her smug smile on every uploaded picture only a reminder to you of what had happened in your personal and professional life.  The same Will Ospreay that you fucking hated with everything in you.

You escaped into a washroom, again, and checked every stall to ensure it was empty, again.  God, you felt like you were going to do this every show now.  You didn’t cry this time.  Instead, you began rubbing at your tattoo on the inside of your right wrist: a chef’s knife that you got in memory of you dad.  You made sure to breathe in and out, in and out, in and out.  Closing your eyes, you thought back to the first few months after your neck surgery.  The first few weeks were hard.  You had cried a lot, and you hated your neck brace.  You remember finding out the news about Will and Bea and basically becoming a vegetable in your bed.  The two weeks that Tyson came to stay with you made everything better, but there was one moment that stuck out, that you remembered so vividly.

Tyson had made lunch one day, some chicken thighs and vegetables and he plated some old pasta salad in your fridge.  You were excited to eat, but when you tried gripping on to your fork and knife, you couldn’t.  A common side effect after neck surgery, especially neck surgery like yours, but it hadn’t happened to you yet.  You thought you were over that hurdle, that it would have happened right after your surgery.  You tried again.  You couldn’t.  You tried just the fork, in your right hand, and you managed to keep it in your hand instead of having it fall on the table.  But when you tried to fork a piece of pasta, you couldn’t at all, and your fork fell loudly into your plate.  You started sobbing like a baby.  Tyson rushed over to you – he had been preparing drinks – and asked what was wrong.  You explained through tears and he could barely understand you.  You had lost your appetite you were so distraught.  But then Tyson – bless him – got you to calm down enough that you weren’t a sobbing mess.  He picked up your fork, got a couple of vegetables on it, and held it up near your mouth to feed you.

“Tys…” you remember being on the verge of tears again.  You felt like a fucking baby having somebody feed you.

“Eat, Hazel.  I got you.”

You almost didn’t, because you were too proud.  But when you saw the look on his face, and how he was looking at you, you opened your mouth and ate the food.  You chewed it slowly, embarrassed that it had come to this.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“You’re feeding me like I’m a baby.  This is embarrassing.”

Tyson shook his head.  “This is not embarrassing at all,” he said before forking some chicken.  “What would be embarrassing is if you made me do an airplane to get you to eat.”

He always knew how to get you to smile, even at your lowest point.  You opened your mouth again to eat the chicken.  “Hey Tyson?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.  I mean it.”

Tyson cut up and fed you your entire meal, even gripping your glass for you to drink, before eating himself.  And a few days later, when it happened again, he did it all again without hesitation.  That’s what Tyson had done for you.  That’s what made you realize he would be in your life forever.  And those men in that locker room were laughing.

***

Tyson always made decisions for the good of his company – the company that he helped create and build from the ground up.  Whatever was good for the company was good for him.  Whatever made his friends money and got fans in seats.  That meant that despite his personal feelings towards Will Ospreay, he was working him again at Forbidden Door in Toronto.  They had faced each other earlier in the year at Wrestle Kingdom, for the good of New Japan Pro Wrestling.  Now he’d be facing him for the good of All Elite Wrestling.  Tyson was able to keep his feelings quite personal, never letting anybody know what he really thought or felt. 

Everybody except the two guys who could read him like a book.

Matt and Nick looked on as he spoke with Will about their match in Toronto.  Tyson would be dropping the title – he knew that already – but they were going over spots, storyline, and emotion.  Will focused on spots, but Tyson was focusing on emotion.  What was the story?  What story did Tyson want to tell?

“What do you think about a big spot, like—”

“Another big spot?  Haven’t we got enough big spots?” Tyson quipped.

“Listen, I was thinking of a Tiger Driver—”

“—Oh fuck—” a female voice exclaimed.

Everybody’s heads turned to the doorway to see Hazel popping in her head.  Tyson, Will, Matt, Nick, Austin, Chris Daniels – everyone looked at her.  Tyson noticed her stare fixed on Will before looking at him.  He knew that this was the one thing she didn’t want to happen.  Running into Will.  “Um, I’m sorry to interrupt—”

“—It’s okay sweetcheeks—” Matt offered.

“—I’m gonna, um, bring Hikaru back to the hotel when everything is over, so don’t worry.  Bye.”

She shut the door abruptly.  The men in the room stayed silent for a few moments before stealing quick glances at each other.  Austin looked over at Tyson first, but wasn’t able to read the emotion on his face.  Nick and Matt looked at Tyson too, but he was as stoic as a rock.  Will had already shrugged his shoulders and discounted the experience.  “Anyone else see how her eyes were watery?” Chris Daniels commented.

“Probably emotional because she knows we’re losing tonight,” Nick tried to cover quickly.  He didn’t want to speculate in a room full of men why Hazel Fiore looked like she was tearing up.  It was nobody’s business.  Especially not with Will in the room.

“She’s always been emotional,” Will commented, as if he was an authority on the issue.  Like he had the right to speak about her in any capacity.  “It’s like, you kinda feel bad, but you also understand why, y’know?  She’s got major daddy issues.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tyson’s response was literally automatic upon hearing the words come out of Will’s mouth, his tone scathing and unlike anything any of the other men had ever heard before.  Will looked at him, shocked, as if he hadn’t said anything wrong, even though Matt and Nick had also voiced their displeasure with words Tyson couldn’t hear through his anger and disgust.  “Seriously, what’s your fucking problem?” he followed up on a dumbfounded Will. 

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“Who the fuck says that about a girl who lost her dad at fifteen to cancer,” Tyson’s voice was still calm but full of disgust.  “It’s so fucking insensitive.  How could you even say that?”

“Ty, come on—”

“—Just fuck off, Will.  Seriously, fuck off,” he stood up from his seat and waved Will off, shaking his head.    “Get out of my fucking locker room.  I swear to God.  I know a lot of dumb fucks, Will, but you just might be the dumbest.”

“Ty—”

“You’re winning the belt in Toronto, so do however many spots you fuckin’ like.  Maybe now at least one of your five star matches will be memorable because I’m in it.  Now get out,” his tone was angrier and threatening.

Will left with a scowl on his face.  All the men in the room watched Tyson as he paced back and forth.  When he noticed Chris look at him, he stopped abruptly.  “What?”

“Nothing.  You did the right thing.”

***

“Please go away.  You’re going to think I’m a big baby.  That I’m still as lame as I was when you first met me,” you bemoaned, Tyson refusing to move from his heat on the edge of the bed.  “I’m serious.  Go to Wendy’s with the Bucks.  Get me a Frosty.  Be anywhere but here so you don’t have to see me like this.”

“Why?  Because I haven’t seen you like this before?” he countered, making you fall silent.  He had seen you like this many times before, but it was still unnerving, still a bit embarrassing to be a 31-year-old woman still emotional about something that happened seven years ago.  And to be like this over a guy you had actively – and successfully – avoided seeing for those seven years?  “C’mon, Haze.  Give me a little bit of credit.”

You sighed, taking a deep breath as you looked him in the eye.  “I don’t mean it like that,” your voice was small.  “I don’t mean to make you mad—”

“—You’re not making me mad—”

“—I just don’t want my problems becoming your problems.  You deal with enough shit already.  You got bit by an adult human male, Tyson.”

The both of you couldn’t help but snort.  The situation had to be lightened slightly.  “Come on.  Tell me.”

You sighed again.  “Something happened earlier in the night, before I walked in on you guys in the locker room.  I had gone to catering and was speaking with Tony and then when he went into his locker room, Greg was leaving the one across.  And while the door was open, I just…you know, heard some stuff.”

Tyson furrowed his brows.  “Stuff?  What stuff?”

“I kinda just overheard him talking.  I don’t know what his breakup with Bea was like, and I really don’t care, but uhhh, he was telling them some sob story about how much heat she got for what she did to me and how it affected their relationship, and he just made this comment, like, ‘It’d be much harder now to pick her up and drop her on her head, if you know what I mean’, and—”

Tyson didn’t even say anything, but you had to stop talking because he stood up at lightning speed and began making his way towards the door.  “Tyson—”

“—Do not stop me.”

Tyson was fast, but you were faster.  You slipped right by him and barricaded the door dramatically, like you were holding him hostage.  You kind of feel like you had to now, based on what you’d just told him.  “Nope.  You’re not leaving this hotel room—”

“—Yes I fucking am—”

“—No, you’re not, because that’s not even the worst part.”

He stepped back.  It was like he couldn’t comprehend what you’d just said.  “What do you mean that’s not even the worst part?” his voice got high pitched.

“Go back to the bed—”

“—Hazel—”

“Go back to the bed, now, or else,” you threatened.  You had nothing to threaten him with at all, but you were serious.  You didn’t want drama, or commotion, or anything of the sort.  Tyson had been through enough over the last year that you thought he should be done for the rest of his life.  There was no reason for him to take this on as his own, to defend whatever honour you had left – if you had any at all. 

You laid one of your hands on his forearm to calm him down.  “It got worse because once he said it, I heard people laughing,” you explained.  You felt him shift, his arm twitching in anger, but it was subtle.  “And I know you’re going to ask who it was, but I don’t know.  I didn’t go in there to see or to yell at them or whatever else.  I just took my dinner and chucked it into the closest garbage can and just…” you trailed off.  “You just…you can’t imagine how awful it feels to be a woman and have your colleagues, your supposed friends, whoever they were, laughing at a joke about your body.  It’s soul-crushing.  And I just…you know,” you shrugged, unable to find the words.  “After everything I’ve been through, I still let this bullshit get to me.”

Tyson pulled you into him to hug you, wrapping his giant arms around you just like he used to during your first visit to Japan, just like he used to after big matches after his shower, just like he always did, really.  Tyson gave the best hugs.  When he engulfed you, it was like all your problems just washed away and you were cleansed.  It was like you were back in the waters of Portofino holding on to him, not wanting to let go.  “D’you remember when I stayed with you those two weeks after your neck surgery and I had to feed you?”

“Of course, Ty.  I actually thought about it after I heard the laughing.  I’d never forget that.”

“Just remember that,” he encouraged.  “Just remember everything I’d do for you before you let anyone of those fuckers get in your head.”

You waited for Tyson to wash his face to put on your pyjamas before the both of you got into bed.  You wondered if he’d get close at all, possibly even touch you, but the second you were both laying down, your question was answered.  His body moved towards yours like a fight-or-flight response, one of his arm draping over your body.  He curled up right against your back, like the big spoon, your body nestling perfectly into his.  Memories flooded his mind.  Memories of the G1 Climax Tournament he won.

In the quietness of the room, with the low hum of the air conditioner the only noise, Tyson placed a kiss on your shoulder.  He didn’t say anything, but he knew you felt it. 

For him, it was getting harder and harder to control.

***

TOKYO 2016

i said remember this moment in the back of my mind the time we stood with our shaking hands, the crowds in stands went wild

You know you will remember the moment vividly as you watch it happen.  You will remember the finished move and how Tyson pinned his opponent.  You will remember the bell ringing after the referee’s hand hit the mat three times.  You will remember the roar of the crowd and the excitement in everybody’s eyes to see the first ever gaijin win the G1 Climax.  You will remember how gruelling of a month it was for Tyson, how emotionally draining it had been.  You will remember it all culminating in this moment.  Of him winning.  Of him making history.

You weren’t able to see him right away.  There were in-ring celebrations and post-match press conferences to be had, and various people from New Japan saw him first.  You had to be on standby, and you could have chewed your nails off waiting.  Even when the suits finished, the handler from New Japan made you wait an additional ten minutes just to see him.

You knocked lightly on his door before peeping your head in.  He was sitting on a giant production case, the tournament trophy beside him.  His legs were dangling off the edge, not touching the floor.  Not many things could make him look small.  He looked your way and when he saw you, the most tired of smiles appeared on his face.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” he nodded quickly, and you slipped in before shutting the door behind you.  “What did you think?”

“I think you’re incredible,” you said, approaching him and standing in front of him.  Your eyes scanned over the trophy briefly before you focused your attention back on him.  “Has it sunk in yet for you?  That you just made history?”

He took a few breaths, shaking his head slightly.  “No.  I guess I did, didn’t I?  First gaijin to win the G1.  I can say that now.”

“Doesn’t it feel amazing?” you asked.

“I’m so tired and drained that I don’t know what amazing feels like right now,” he said, causing you both to laugh slightly.  “I think tomorrow morning as I’m eating breakfast it’s gonna hit me like a ton of bricks.”

You couldn’t help but smile, stepping closer to him so you were standing between his spread legs.  You don’t know what came over you, but seeing him the way he was – in his gear, beside the giant G1 Climax trophy, still trying to catch his breath, the weight of what just happened and what it meant looming over the both of you…you really don’t know what came over you. 

You kissed him.  You held his big, sweaty head in your hands and you kissed him.  Only a couple of seconds after it began, you realized what you were doing and you pulled away.  “Shitsorry—sorry—” you began mumbling and apologizing quickly.

“—It’s okay—”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry Tys—”

“—Hazel, it’s alright.  It’s okay.”

You put your fingers over your lips, as if that would stop it from happening again.  A physical barrier is what you needed, apparently.  Not a mental one.  You looked in each other’s eyes before one of his characteristic close-lipped smiles spread across his face.  “I’m very happy you’re here,” he whispered.  “I really—I really like you being here.”

“I think you’re just saying that because I act like an idiot and provide you entertainment,” you said, trying to make light of what just happened.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot at all,” he shook his head only slightly, not able to do much else with his body after what had just transpired in the ring.  “Please stop thinking that.”

“I bet you do secretly.”

“No,” he was firmer in his tone this time.  “I know a lot of dumb people, and you’re not one of them.”

Before you could say anything else, there was another knock at the door.  You stepped away from being so close to Tyson.  He looked extremely annoyed.  A man began speaking in Japanese from the other side of the door, and Tyson answered back while rolling his eyes.  The door closed before you even understood what was going on.  “Sorry.”

“What was that about?”

“Driver wanted to know how much longer.  I told him fifteen minutes so I could shower.”

“It’s okay,” you said, nodding your head once.  “Go shower.  We—I’ll meet you in the car.  I know you’re tired, so we’ll celebrate tomorrow.”

The driver drove you both to a local hotel near Ryogoku Kokugikan, the company deciding to put everybody up in the hotel since they wanted to film a press conference tomorrow afternoon.  You checked into your respective rooms, which were only down the hall from each other.  But as you were getting ready for bed, your phone buzzed on your bathroom vanity.

Neck hurts like a motherfucker.

Colour me shocked, Ty.  Are you okay?Do you want me to drop by?  I have some Rub A535.

What are you, my dad?

You rolled your eyes at his response.  He was the geriatric one.

Has neck pain, still acts like a pain in the ass.

You threw on a robe and made sure to grab your key card before making your way over to his room.  You knocked quietly and he opened not long after.  You let yourself in.  “Seriously, Rub A535?  You’re an old man.”

“I bet it’s like looking into a mirror then, eh?” you countered.

Tyson’s jaw dropped.  “You jezebel!”

You both broke out into laughter, making your way further into his room.  You threw your robe onto the extra bed.  He was wearing an old, stupid pair of shorts to sleep in.  “Sit,” you said as you got on his bed.  “Show me where it’s hurting.  I can try to massage it.”

“Are you licensed?  Can I claim you on my insurance?”

You gave him a look.  “Do you want my help or not!”

He giggled, sitting himself on the edge of the bed.  “Right up over here,” he showed you with his hand, “and over here.  Just be careful though, okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” both of your voices were calm at this point.  There was no room for joking around.  “You have to tell me if I’m hurting you,” you warned, with Tyson nodding his head.

You began massaging the first place he showed you, and almost the second you applied pressure, Tyson groaned.  He encouraged you to keep going, that it felt good.  “You know, this wouldn’t be happening to you if you didn’t keep landing on your neck all the time,” you whispered.

“What fun would that be?” he asked.  You shook your head.

Your continued massaging, being as careful as you could, moving on to the other areas that he pointed out to you.  You could hear his little satisfied exhales, the little groans he let out when you hit a spot well.  You switched back and forth between the spots for a while, Tyson appreciating every minute.  You didn’t know if he could feel how close you got once you really got into it, or if he could feel your breath on his neck.  But you were happy you were making him feel better, happy you were with him and his beautiful soul on the biggest night of his career thus far. 

“Ah shit,” you almost didn’t hear him swear under his breath.

You pulled your hands back towards your chest.  “Fuck, did I hurt you?”

“No no, it’s okay, keep going,” he urged.

“Tys—”

“It wasn’t you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You stayed silent, exhaling slightly before continuing to massage over near his shoulder as you had been, being a little more careful.  You would never be able to forgive yourself if you had hurt him somehow.  He winced at some points and groaned in others, like he had been when you focused on his neck, but you could still tell something was up.  When you looked over his shoulder, you could see him trying discreetly to adjust his shorts, pulling some of the fabric forward as if he was trying to hide or cover something. 

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you kept massaging, garnering another groan from him.  You took your time getting closer and closer to him until you were positive he could feel your breath on his skin.  “Don’t worry about it, Ty,” you whispered in his ear in a knowing tone.  “It’s okay.”

He shook his head slightly.  You were positive the redness you saw in his cheeks wasn’t from the increased blood flow to his neck and shoulders.  “No it’s not.  It’s embarrassing.  This is, like, what happens with pervs.”

“It’s not embarrassing.  It happens.  Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize about,” you assured him.  By this point, you had stopped paying attention to your massaging and had no idea if what you were doing even helped.  You were too busy looking over his shoulder, trying to see through his shorts.  You inhaled quietly.  “D’you want me to take care of it?”

Tyson shook his head, still embarrassed.  “No no no.  Gosh Hazel, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’ll do it, Ty.  I don’t mi—”

“—Hazel…” there was a hesitation in his voice.

There was a pause as your back and forth hung in the air.  “Is it cause you don’t want me to?”

He shook his head.  “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” you asked, bringing your lips down to kiss his shoulder.

He stayed silent.  He was almost ashamed because he couldn’t say anything out loud.  How could he?  He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t say it.  He couldn’t let you know; it had to stay inside him.  For his good.  For your good.  He felt you kiss his shoulder again and he inhaled.  “Hazel…”

“Remember Portofino?”

He couldn’t help the small smile that spread on his lips.  “Of course.”

You kissed your way from his shoulder to where it met his neck.  “Do you really not want to?  Cause I’ll stop,” you whispered in his ear.

Tyson shook his head.  He could do many things, but he couldn’t deny this right now.  “I just…I can barely move.”

“You don’t have to,” you assured him.  “I’ll take care of it.”

“Haze…”

“Shhhh…” you cooed, kissing his neck.  “Lie down.”

“Haze—you don’t—I don’t want you to think you have to do that.”

“I want to, Tyson.  I feel safest with you.”

He didn’t lie down just yet.  Instead, he pulled you on to his lap and began kissing you.  You straddled him as you kissed him back, feeling his hands go to your thighs and travel around to your ass, squeezing the flesh there.  You could barely let go of him as his tongue entered your mouth.  Your hands wandered between his toned body and his hair, gripping it at the nape of his neck.  He was so much bigger now, so much bigger than you remember him being.  You didn’t know how long you just sat there making out for, but your lips felt swollen when you stopped, even if it just was momentarily.  “Ty?” you breathed out, feeling his length between your legs.

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to be inside me or in my mouth?”

“Shit Hazel,” he swore underneath his breath.  The way you worded the question almost made him come right then and there.  “In—inside you.”

You gave him a quick kiss.  “Lie down.”

He listened this time, and you both moved to better positions on the bed, him lying down like you demanded.  You helped him out of his shorts, freeing his hard cock.  You took off your own pyjama bottoms, but Tyson raised his arms so he could slide your panties down your legs.  You kissed a trail down his chest before straddling him again.  You reached down between you and positioned his cock so he could enter you, and you lowered on to him slowly, having to adjust to his size.  “Fuck Ty,” you couldn’t help but breath out along the way.  When you bottomed out, a shiver ran up your spine.

“Jesus, Hazel,” he breathed out.  “Fuck, that feels so good.”

You knew he could barely move, and you knew you’d be the one putting in most of the work here, so you took a few more moments to adjust before you began rolling your hips back and forth slowly.  Tyson watched and his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the visual.

You took your time getting into a rhythm, wanting this to last as long as it could.  The last time, in Portofino, your body had been buzzed from being out in the sun all day.  This time around, the both of you were exhausted, but that didn’t mean there was any less energy between you two, or any less love.  You would do anything for Tyson, and Tyson would do anything for you.  So you were taking it gently, and you were taking it slowly, but you knew it would feel just as good as Portofino did two years ago, just as perfect as it did then too, despite nothing happening since.

Tyson’s hands were placed firmly on your thighs at first, before they moved to your hips and followed your movements loosely.  You placed your hands over his, intertwining your fingers slightly.  “Y’okay, Ty?”

“You feel fucking incredible,” he whispered.

“You want me to take my top off?”

“Yes please.”

You giggled at his request of please.  So polite.  You could take the boy out of Canada, but you couldn’t take Canada out of the boy.  You led his hands from your hips all the way up your body, dragging your shirt long with it, before he pulled it off entirely and tossed it to the side.  Your breasts were exposed then, and all it took was the sight of them to give Tyson a burst of energy, moving to sit up.  One arm wrapped around your waist to hold you down on his cock as he attacked your lips with his.  He cupped your breast, which overflowed even in his big hands.  You moaned into his kisses, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck again.  Your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulder blades where you had been massaging earlier.  “Ty…” you whispered out as he moved from your lips to your neck.  “Ty, lie down.  I got you.  I told you I’d take care of you.”

“You’re so beautiful, Hazel.”

A shiver ran up your spine hearing those words.  You pushed him back down before placing your hands on his chest for leverage as you began to roll your hips again.  Your breathing got heavier; so did his.  You savoured every moment of being on top of him, having his amazing body underneath you as you worked to pleasure the both of you.  You were completely drunk on him, willing that this exact feeling could last forever. 

Tyson had gotten more vocal the longer you two went on.  Between the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of him inside you, he was close.  It didn’t help that he’d gotten a head start during the massage.  “You’re gonna make me come.”

You were desperate – you could admit that.  You didn’t want it to end.  He felt too good inside of you.  You felt too connected to him to have it be over, regardless of how long you’d been riding him.  You couldn’t even keep track or have any idea because you were so wrapped up in the feeling of him.  “No,” you shook your head, biting your bottom lip.  “No, not yet.”

Tyson couldn’t believe what he’d heard.  “What?”

“Not yet,” you repeated more emphatically.  “Want more.  Need more.”

A shiver ran up his spine hearing those words.  It took everything in him not to come then and there.  Instead, he began to move his hips along with yours, and you could automatically feel the difference.  Your moaning got louder.  Tyson almost couldn’t take it.  “You’re getting so deep, Ty.”

“Keep going, baby.”

You clenched when the words left his mouth.  Your hips kept rolling, your clit rubbing against his body as his cock was hitting you so deep and at the perfect angle.  After a while longer, you found yourself getting closer, as you were sure he was hitting your G-spot.  “Ty…oh fuck Ty—I—I—”

You couldn’t say anything else as the most intense orgasm you’d ever felt washed over your entire body.  Your entire body shook with pleasure – you could even feel it in your fucking toes.  You had never felt anything like it before and oh my God, was it glorious.  You swore you could see stars as you clenched around him, repeating his name over and over like a prayer.  At some point, it was all too much for you, and you felt yourself collapsing on to him.  Your breasts were between your bodies, pressing against him as he held you down with his arms.  As he pumped in and out of you, you could feel his release too, his groans and how you felt full from him. 

You felt empty when he slipped out of you, but you kissed him to make up for it, kiss after kiss after kiss.  Were you being sappy?  Both times this had ended up happening, it was truly spur of the moment.  But during both times, there had been so much pent up energy between you that it could only culminate in something like this.  And during both times, you didn’t want them to end.  You knew you’d remember every detail.

In between kisses, you couldn’t help yourself.  “Love you, Ty.”

“Love you too, Hazel,” he responded right after.  It was only then that you heard the true fatigue in his voice. 

He didn’t let go of you as you rolled off him and onto his side.  You were both on your sides now, and he pulled you up against his chest.  All of his muscles, tired and overused as they were, pressed into your back as he tucked his head against your shoulder.  Before the fatigue finally consumed him, he placed a kiss on your shoulder; you brought his hand up and kissed it too, finally drifting off to sleep.

*

The next morning, Tyson could barely move.  He’d need help getting out of bed.  But that was typical.  What really mattered wasn’t his pain or how stiff some of his joints were.  What really mattered was that he was still in bed, with you, looking into your eyes.  One of your hands was playing with his hair.  One of his hands was drawing circles along the skin on your arm.  You were both quiet.  You were both in the moment, since you didn’t have to be anywhere else for a while. 

“You’re career’s about to take off in ways we never would have thought,” you barely whispered.  You wondered if the weight of what he had accomplished last night had finally hit him.  “Are you gonna remember little ol’ me when you’re rich and famous?”

The smallest of smiles cracked on his lips.  “Duh.  You’re unforgettable.” 

“A lot of things are gonna change you, and I want you to know that I think you deserve all the good things coming to you.  Whatever they are,” you continued.  “You know that, right?”

“I do,” he said.  “But it’s not all about me.  You’re going to do some pretty big things too.  Stardom’s gonna shoot you to the moon because you deserve it.  And what’s happening in California when you go back?”

“I’ve got a match with Candice, and a match with Bea Priestley again.  Let’s hope I don’t walk out with another broken sternum.”

“You’re gonna knock both out of the park, because you always do.  Then everybody’s gonna be clamouring for you.  There’s going to be bidding wars over you,” he assured you.  “You’re just as good as I am.  If not better.”

“Oh stop,” you said, blushing and embarrassed at his words.  You buried your face into the pillow so you didn’t have to look at him.  You could feel him move, sticking his face into the crook of your neck as he kissed along it.

“I mean it, Haze,” he mumbled against your temple between kisses. 

When you raised your head back up, he peppered your face with light pecks before giving you quick kisses on your lips.  When you stopped kissing, you took in the silence between you.  “Hey Tys…”

“Hmm?”

Your hand moved to caress his face along his beard.  “I wasn’t—I didn’t just, like, blurt out the words last night and didn’t mean them,” you stuttered out.  “I do love you.  In my own way.”

“I know,” he said.  “I meant what I said last night too.  That I’m very happy you’re here.  That I like you being here with me.  And that I love you.”

“But you don’t…even after what happened in Portofino, we can’t do much more than this, can we?” you asked.  Secret little love affairs.  One-off passionate nights after emotionally charged moments that brought you closer together, closer than you ever thought you’d ever get with your mentor, your best friend, your person. 

His heart broke.  Again, he was ashamed because he couldn’t say anything out loud.  He couldn’t let you know; it had to stay inside him.  For his good and for your good.  “It’s not the right time,” he said instead.

Your heart didn’t break.  It had no reason to.  He was right, but you didn’t want to admit it.  “Not—not that anything would change but if—if—do you think it ever will be the right time in the future?”

He felt his stomach in knots.  He answered with the only answer he could give.

“I don’t know.”

*

A few weeks later, when Matt and Nick were back in Japan, they would watch intently as Tyson was glued to his phone.  They’d give each other a look that Tyson wouldn’t see, and then they’d go about their business, eating their ice cream or searching for directions to a coffee shop.  But one night, after they walked into Tyson’s hotel room at the tail end of an hour-long phone call, Nick made the executive decision.

“Sorry.  It was Hazel,” Tyson said once he hung up.

“Figured as much.  You don’t talk to anyone else on the phone that long but us and her,” Nick smirked.

Tyson shrugged.  “Yeah, well…”

“She doing okay?”

“She’s fine.”

“How was it when she was over here?” Matt piped in.

Tyson was avoiding eye contact.  “It was nice,” he kept his answers simple.  “Nice that I had someone here with me for winning the G1, you know.”  Despite being some of his best friends, they didn’t know what had happened in Italy, and they weren’t going to know about what happened after the G1.

“Mmmhhhmmm,” Nick nodded.  “Must’ve been.”

“Are you gonna tell her how you feel?” Matt asked, getting straight to the point.  “She’s gottta know, Ty.”

Tyson shook his head.  Those observant little fuckers.  “No.”

Nick grimaced.  “Why not?”

Tyson took a deep breath, sighing afterwards.  “It’s just easier if she doesn’t.  Even if it rips me apart.”

***

25th June 2023

you say, "i don't understand," and i say, "i know you don't" we thought a cure would come through in time, now, i fear it won't

You watched with tears in your eyes as the trainer attended to Tyson after his match with Will, going through concussion protocol and range of motion exercises to ensure everything was okay and that nothing was broken.  Tyson sat their quietly, complying with everything, moving his shoulders and legs, blinking once and then twice, maintaining focus then following a light, stretching his neck back and forth and side to side.  That was the most important exercise of all, after what had happened in the ring.  After he didn’t tell you one of the most important spots in the match.

“Everything looks completely fine, Mr. Smith,” the head trainer said, finally, much to everybody’s relief.  Everybody except you.

“God Ty, that Tiger Driver looked brutal,” Nick said.  “Helluva spot, but brutal nonetheless.”  Of course he would say that.

“I thought it looked incredible,” Matt pitched in.  “If anybody could have done it and taken it correctly, it was you.”  Of course he would say that.

“That’ll grab the headlines,” Christopher Daniels said.  Of course he would say that.

“Leave the really big spots for a Canada, huh?” Stephen joked.  Of course he would say that.

It was then that Tyson locked eyes with you – you, staying completely silent across the way of the room, though you knew by now your face was probably beet red with emotion.  You had so much emotion stored inside of you, from the beginning of the match until now, and you didn’t know when it was going to burst.  Forty minutes of your heart being in the pit of your stomach.

Tyson finally noticed.

“Can everyone just…” he began, sighing and trailing off before recollecting his thoughts.  “Just give me a couple of minutes – alone, please,” he ordered, albeit politely.  Everybody stood silent, awkwardly.  “Now guys.  Come on.  Everyone out.”

You didn’t move, but everyone else did.  When they were all out, and you were all alone with Tyson, that’s when all the emotion stored inside of you came out.  One of your tsunamis.  Now.  Of all times it could happen.

“What’s the matter?  What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

His tone meant that the first few tears escaped.  You shook your head vehemently.  “No—no—no—”

“—Hazel—”

“—No—”

“Hazel, c’mere…c’mere,” he cooed.  Even reluctantly, you went over to him, sitting across from him on the medical table.  He grabbed your hands in his.  You weren’t expecting that, but you were shaking, and he probably wanted to stop that.  “What’s the matter?”

“Your neck, your neck,” you kept repeating through your tears.

“My neck is fine—”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing this fucking shit, Tyson?” you demanded, tears fully streaming down your face now.  “Do you think I like seeing your body torn up by a cage?  That I like seeing you be dropped on your fucking head?  And by him?”

“Haze, I’m sor—”

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it this time!” you exclaimed, pulling your hands away from his.  You wiped the tears from your eyes.  “You’re Kenny fucking Omega.  Your worst match is still ninety five percent better than everybody else’s best matches yet you still think you have to do this—this—this absolutely insane shit.  For what?  What’s it all for, Tyson?  You’re already the best in the world.  You’re already a legend.”

“I’m perfecting my craft, Hazel.  You know that.  We talk about it all the time.  This is everything to me.  I left my family, my friends – I moved to a foreign country and was fucking alone for years so I could be at the top.  Every sacrifice I’ve made has been in the name of pro-wrestling because there can’t be a question about whether or not I’m the best.  That’s it, Hazel.  That’s it.”

You absorbed his words, each one of them hitting you like a dagger.  You sat there silently, looking deep into his eyes.  “Is that really all that matters to you?  Is that it?”

You could see the look in his eyes.  You could see the change in his face.  He wanted to say something.  He was so close to saying something.  He was going to say something.  But you couldn’t hear how he would respond to your question – at least not right now.  The door handle being jerked loudly from the outside interrupted your conversation, and when you both looked the way of the door, you saw one person walking through it.

Will fucking Ospreay.

Okay, now you were livid.

“Don’t you know how to fucking knock?” you demanded, not caring how rude you sounded.  You stood up from where you were sitting across from Tyson.

Will’s face scrunched up.  “Who pissed in your cereal?”

“YOU!” you screamed.  “You, you fucking idiot!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?  I came in to see Tyson, not you—”

“Well you’re going to see me anyway!”

“Will you calm down—”

“—Do not tell me to calm down,” you warned.  “What is it?  Huh?  You want to do the same thing to his neck that your ex-girlfriend did to mine?”  Will’s brows furrowed with that rhetorical question.  You didn’t even bother to wait for him to retort.  You just kept going.  “You know what, actually?  This is a perfect opportunity.  Finally you can see it in the flesh,” you turned around, gathered your hair in your hand, and lifted it up.  Your scar was on full display for Will, who diverted his eyes the second he saw it.  “Four screws, one rod, and sixteen staples fixed your girlfriend’s mistake.  I should have suffocated and died in that ring and you didn’t even have the decency to check in on me.  And you want to know why I’m so upset?”

Will clenched his jaw.  “Listen, I’m sorry that happened, but—”

“You’re not sorry it happened,” you interrupted him.  “You want me to believe you’re sorry when you were joking with your friends in the locker room in Vegas about how it would be much harder now to pick me up and drop me on my head?”

It was the first time during your spat that you saw Will’s face drop – that he looked legitimately taken aback, almost even frightened, by what you said.  You had been stepping closer to him with every word, and had backed him up against the wall at this point.  “It must be so empowering to be a man…that you can just exist and be you whereas a woman has to apologize for her existence,” you said.  “If I ever hear that you’ve talked about me or my body again, I will kill you with my bare hands.  I fucking hate your guts.”

“I can feel it,” was all he could reply with. 

You took one final step closer, looking at him with all the venom in the world in your eyes.  “You can hurt me, Will, and you already have, but if you hurt any one of my friends, it’s over for you, and I mean that entirely.  I will fucking end you.  That’s a promise.”

He stayed silent then, looking down at you, because there was nothing for him to say.  You felt like kneeing him in the groin, but that would have been too much pleasure for one night after what you’d just said to him.  It would have been an indulgence.  As the words hung in the air, you backed up slightly before walking out of the room.  Only then had you noticed the door had been held open by Matt, who was watching you intently as you made your exit.

***

Just knocked on your room door and you didn’t answer.  Are you in the shower or something?

I went to the airport early Catching a red eye to Winnipeg

Hazel

Gonna spend some extra time with my mom

I need to talk to you

I know. I’m sorry I blew up at Will in your room. That wasn’t very nice of me and it put you in an awkward position of having to hear me yell seven years of pent up shit at him.

I couldn’t care less about that He deserved it

Am I still allowed to come to the cottage?

Obviously Hazel What makes you think you wouldn’t?

I don’t know The way I spoke to you

***

30th June 2023

all of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation my hands are shaking from holding back from you

You bought Timbits.  It was the quintessential Canadian road trip item, and you couldn’t show up empty-handed, even though the drive to the cottage was only just over an hour.  With your suitcase loaded in the trunk, you hauled the bag of groceries into the backseat.  Tyson always insisted he had food, but protein bars and chocolate milk didn’t count.  When you slipped into the front seat, you held them up near your face.

“You wanna make me fat?” he asked as he shut the door behind them.  “Seriously, woman.  I have a strict diet to maintain this body.”

You rolled your eyes.  “Oh, right.  I forgot about that.  Your diet of energy drinks and Dave’s Doubles and junior cheeseburger deluxes is sooooo healthy.”

“You know it,” he winked.  “What’s with all the food, by the way?”

“You never have food.”

“I have food!”

“I also may have watched The Bear with my mom.”

Tyson giggled.  He put the gear in drive and signalled.  “Yeah.  That’ll do it.  What’re you gonna make?”

“Scallopini al funghi,” you said, eyeing him.  He stayed silent.  “You know, like a chicken marsala.”

“Oh, you mean like from the Cheesecake Factory?”

You chopped him across the chest.  As always he was overdramatic in his response, though he knew exactly what he was doing when he brought up the Cheesecake Factory.  “You take that back right now, Tyson.”

“Man, you still got it,” he rubbed at his chest where you chopped him.  “You been practicing without me or something?”

“Apologize!”

The smirk hadn’t left his face.  “I’m sorry I brought up the Cheesecake Factory when you mentioned making a fancy shmancy Italian dish,” irony dripped with every word that came out of his mouth.

“Thank you,” you smiled just as ironically.  “How was the rest of the time in Toronto?”

He shrugged.  “Just the usual.  Lots of media.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  I was able to go to a few places and get some gaming stuff, which was nice.”

You almost didn’t want to ask, but there was something in your chest that was making you.  “How’s your neck?”

“Neck’s fine,” he said, looking over at you quickly.  “And I’m not just saying that, okay?”

You nodded in understanding.  “I’m excited for this, you know,” you tried to lighten the mood back to where it was.  You didn’t want to talk about what had happened just yet.  It was the first time seeing Tyson in almost five days and you wanted to see him smile.  “I can’t wait to do a 630 splash off the dock.  The water will be warm, right?”

“We’ll see,” he said.  “I’m excited, too.  I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

***

Groceries were put away.  Scallopini were made.  Dishes were put in the dishwasher.

And then…

“BAH GAWD ALMIGHTY!” you could hear Tyson scream in a bang-on Jim Ross impression before you hit the water.  The cold temperature hit your skin like icicles, but you knew it would be only momentary.  You swam a bit underwater before you emerged back up, hearing Tyson finishing his yelling.  “Somebody stop the damn match!  That man has a family!”

You watched as he got a running start and completed a flawless tope con hilo from the edge of his dock right into the water.  You began to backstroke so you could get further into the lake as you watched him come up for air.  “Show off!” you yelled at him, a smile on your face.

He smiled and shook his head.  He began swimming over to you.  “I do that all the time!” he called out after you.  When he caught up to you, easily, he could see the playful scowl on your face.

“Now you’re just bragging,” you said.  You turned away from him and looked out onto the lake.  Streaks covered the sky, the sunset starting showing its beauty over the lake.  Whenever you came here with Tyson – not that it was often, but whenever it did happen – you always managed to get a beautiful sunset.  You didn’t know if it was the time of year, or the weather, or some other force of nature you had no power over.  Regardless, you were very lucky.  You could feel him behind you.  “You get the best sunsets out here,” you commented, your voice no longer yelling.

“I know,” he said. 

You were both quiet for quite a while, just letting the sound of the waves take precedent.  The lake wasn’t particularly lively – at least not at this time of day – but there were some boats still driving around the lake, some families down the coast clearly having their own Canada Day weekend celebrations.  You treaded water easily to stay afloat, but the cold water wasn’t getting any warmer.  You plugged your nose and dunked your head into the water to see if it would help, but when you came back up, it hadn’t.  “Think the water will be warmer tomorrow?”

“Just dunk your head a few more times,” Tyson suggested playfully.  You chuckled, but what you weren’t expecting was to feel his giant hand atop your head.  “Tyson!” you screamed, because you knew exactly what he was going to do.

It didn’t stop him.  He pushed you down and dunked you into the water.  He let you come back up quickly, but by the time you caught your breath, he pushed you back down again.  It was like he was baptizing you, for heaven’s sake.  Under the water, you kicked and punched at him.  If you were being honest, you were aiming for his dick, but when you were above water once more catching your breath, he wasn’t grovelling in pain, so it meant you missed.

“You asshole!” you half-yelled, half-giggled.  “You are seriously the worst, Tyson Smith.”

“Wow, using my full name?”

“You deserve it.”

“Nobody ever deserves that.  You were the one trying to hit me.”

“I was trying to punch your dick.”

“You were what?!” his voice raised three octaves.  “Hazel Ila—”

“—do not say my middle name—”

“—Ilaaarrrrria,” Tyson put on an extremely strong and dramatic Italian accent.

Big mistake.  You splashed a ton of water into his face, discombobulating him.  You couldn’t help but laugh as you kept splashing him, getting closer to him with each one.  When you were close enough, and with whatever vision he had left with tons of lake water flooding his eyes, he reached out and grabbed your arm to stop you.  He pulled you into his body, holding you against him.  Your arms wrapped around his shoulders. 

“You really are a jezebel, eh?” he said, using one hand to wipe the water off his eyes. 

“I always knew you stealing my passport in Japan would come back to haunt me one day,” you said.

“You’re lucky I’ve never told anyone.  Do you have any idea how long and hard Austin has begged?”

You both giggled.  Then silence.  You were close.

Tyson kissed you.  He leaned his head forward and in one swift movement he kissed you.  You kissed him back for as long as you could.  It had been seven years.  Tyson kissed you for as long as he could before he realized what he was doing and pulled away, turning his head to the side.  “Fucksorry—sorry—” he began mumbling and apologizing quickly.

“—It’s okay—”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry Haz—”

“—Tys, it’s alright.  It’s okay.”

Your hands were cradling his face by this point, and despite his tone and his apologies you continued to look deep into each other’s eyes.  You wondered what was next.  You always wondered what was next with Tyson.  You could feel lightning running through you, running deep in your damn bones.  And when you were sure Tyson would lean in again, a scream across the lake broke the moment.  You both whipped your heads to see a boat pass by, teenagers hanging on to a tube with every inch of their life responsible for the screaming.  The both of you watched as it sped across the lake, taking your moment with it. 

“You’re shivering,” Tyson finally said, filling the silence.

Considering your body was pressed up to his, you weren’t surprised he felt something.  But considering what had just happened, you hadn’t even noticed yourself.  “Guess I’m not used to the water just yet.”

“Let’s go inside.”

“No no, if you want to stay out we can stay out.”

“No way,” he shook his head.  “I’m not gonna make you stay out here shivering.  We’ll come back out tomorrow when the sun’s out.”

You made your way inside.  Tyson gave you space to change into comfortable clothes, and you went into the master bathroom to do something with your hair.  It would inevitably develop a curl, so you decided to brush through it and try to calm your bangs as much as possible before tying it back into a French braid.  The electricity that was in your body hadn’t left, and the moment between you and Tyson in the lake kept playing in your mind.  His blue eyes.  His stupid little giggle.  His voice raising three octaves.  You tried breathing in and out, tried thinking of something else, but nothing could get rid of the electricity or the thoughts.

When you made your way back out, Tyson was already in the kitchen putting a bag of popcorn into the microwave.  When he saw you, he couldn’t help but smile.

You noticed right away.  You thought you looked like a witch.  “What?” you asked him.  “Gosh, I bet my hair looks awful after the lake water,” you grimaced, playing with your bangs and pulling them down to frame your face at least somewhat.

“Nah,” Tyson said softly.  “You look beautiful.”

The electricity that never left had just been amped up to a higher voltage.  It was the electricity that made you act; the second you were close to him in the kitchen, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him, a reciprocal from what happened in the lake.  He immediately kissed back, his arms wrapping around your waist.  His hands went to your ass and he lifted you in his arms and set you down on the countertop, getting in between your legs.  But when you tried slipping your tongue in his mouth, he pulled away.  As if he were ashamed.  “Shitshitshit…” he muttered.

“Ty—”

“—I can’t do this.”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.  “Why not?”

He was breathing heavily.  He shook his head.  “I can’t—I promised myself I couldn’t do anything until we talked about what happened in Toronto, and I’ve already broken that promise.”

Your sanity somewhat recovered.  “Can I ask you something first?”

“What’s that?”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s gonna happen in the ring anymore?”

Tyson paused.  He knew he’d have to answer for that one day, and it was apparently going to be now.  He knew they wouldn’t be able to have this conversation without his answer.  “I see how worked up you get, and how much it affects you and gets you worried.  I don’t want to put you in that position to, you know, worry about me.”

He was such an idiot.  Literally the dumbest boy alive.  You brought your hands up, your thumbs rubbing over the stubble of his beard.  “You’d think by now you’d realize it’s been having the opposite effect,” you said.  “When I told you that it’s getting harder and harder for me to watch your more hardcore stuff I meant it.  Leaving me in the dark is just doing more harm.  I’d rather know about it.  I’d rather be prepared.  It would make me less nervous for what’s coming.”

“But I can’t stand to see you cry,” he whispered.  “Every time I do I know it’s because of me and I can’t handle it.”

 “Please, Ty.  Just tell me,” you said, pausing afterwards.  “What are you gonna do at Blood and Guts?”

Fuck.  You could see Tyson visibly grimace, his eyes fluttering closed.  “There’s gonna be thumbtacks,” he began.  Your stomach was already in knots.  “And uh, there’s this thing…it’s a nail bed—”

“—a nail bed?!—”

“—and I’m going to take a body slam on to it.”

Your tears began almost instantaneously.  “Tyson—”

“—I know, I know—”

“Tyson,” you buried your head into the crook of his neck, resting it on his shoulder.  “Tyson, please,” you were desperate, desperate for him to listen to you. 

“Hazel, Hazel, don’t cry,” he cooed, rubbing your back.  “It’s gonna be okay.  Look at me, look at me,” he gently pulled away before placing a finger underneath your chin so you could look at him.  “You’re breaking my heart by making me see you cry.”

“I hope I am!” you said with more emphasis than normal.  “I get that you want to be the master of your craft but this isn’t it.  Say you’re injured.  Say you can’t do it.  Please.  I don’t want to see you ripped to shreds.”

“Hazel,” you could hear the heaviness in his voice, “you know as well as I do I can’t be the only guy not taking a spot during the match.”

You knew that, but your judgement was clouded right now.  If you had your way, none of the guys would be taking any spots on any damn nail bed, but it wasn’t like you could control these things.  You wished you could.  You knew you would have to suffer through it and there was nothing you could do about it.  You knew it would result in waiting for him to return to gorilla afterwards and having to see him aching.  You knew you’d be in the locker room with him as he got patched up, holding everything in (or, maybe this time, you’d let everything out, in front of everyone). 

You sighed, feeling Tyson wipe away the tears that had fallen from your eyes with the pads of his thumbs.  “You’re so adamant about this.  Why?” he asked.

“Because I’m selfish, Tyson.  I want you around for a very long time.  I’m selfish and I want you with me for a very long time.”

You finally verbalized, praying to God that it would finally get through to him as to why you were the way you were.  He looked into your eyes for any hint of uncertainty or ambiguity, but there wasn’t any.  “Hazel…”

“Don’t you want the same?”

You watched as he gulped, and you could feel his hands grab yours and hold them gently in his.  “You know before Will came in…and you asked me ‘Is that really all that matters to you?  Is that it?’ when we were alone in my room?” he asked.

“Yeah…”

“I didn’t get to…what I wanted to say was…” he trailed off.  “You matter to me, Hazel, a lot.  You’ve mattered to me for years.  I just—I should have—back in Portofino, and back in Japan, I should have said something, and I didn’t because I was too focused on wrestling, too focused on being the best.  And I thought I was old, and there you were, and you were so young and so good, and I just couldn’t do that to you.  But you do matter to me Hazel.  You do.  More than anyone.”

“Tell me what you want, Ty,” you were desperate to hear the words.

“I want it to be the right time.”

Memories of your time in bed together after the G1 Climax in Tokyo together flooded your mind like a tsunami.  You felt a shiver run up your spine, the electricity from deep within you igniting again.  You nodded slightly.  “It is the right time,” you assured him.

He kissed you again, just like he did in the lake earlier, and you responded right away to the feeling of his lips on yours.  Your hands escaped his hold so you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders; his own arms wrapping around your waist.  You sat there on the counter with Tyson between your legs for what felt like hours, the taste of him so intoxicating you were running out of breath.  You didn’t know how to describe his kisses any other way except full – full of emotion, of passion, of love, of seven years of waiting and all the pent-up feelings that came with that.  So you took every moment and cherished it, burning it into the back of your mind.  Every feel of his curls as you ran your hands through them, every feel of the stubble of his beard rubbing against the bare skin of your face and your neck, every feel of his muscles tightening the more you squeezed your legs around his torso to bring his body even closer to yours.

You found your hands creeping underneath his shirt, his skin of his back so delicate underneath your fingertips.  He still had some scratches on his back from the cage match with Jon, and the scar from the gash he got at the G1 Climax tournament in 2016.

Tyson pulled away slightly, quickly.  “Do you still feel safest with me?” he asked.

You nodded quickly.  “Yes, God yes,” you rushed so your lips could be back on his.  “Always, Ty.”

His kisses travelled to your neck and clavicle.  His hands were squeezing at your thighs.  You were sure he was going to leave a mark somewhere, his kisses and bites becoming insatiable.  You were sure your breaths and moans were only fuelling him, but you knew you wanted more.  The slight impatience got the best of you.  You grabbed his hands before widening your legs.  “Touch me Ty,” you breathed out, placing his hand on your hot core over your leggings.  “I want you to touch me.”

That apparently flipped a switch in him, because he picked you up in one swoop and began carrying you through the cottage until he got to his bedroom, setting you down on the bed.  “Touch me, touch me,” you begged absent-mindedly, so desperate to feel him that you pulled off his shirt. 

His hand finally went where you wanted it to go.  Your hips immediately bucked at his touch, even though it was above fabric.  He moved his body to hover over yours as he did so, making sure he could keep eye contact you and watch all your reactions as he did what you wanted him to do.  “Does that feel good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“You gonna let me taste you?”

Your breath got caught in your throat.  You wanted it, you wanted it so bad, but the possibility of it actually happening made you slip up.  He obviously hadn’t done it previously, with the two of you being the way you were getting in the way of it happening in Portofino and Tokyo.  “Y-Yeah,” you stuttered out, nodding.

Tyson gave you a few more kisses as his fingers drew circles and ran up and down the fabric over your core before he pushed himself back on his knees.  He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your tights before pulling them off in one full swoop.  Next, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulled them off too, exposing your whole bottom half.  He could hear your intake of breath, could see how you were watching his every move.  “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled out.  “Just nerves.”

He furrowed his brows.  “Why are you nervous?”

“I don’t know.  Just am,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he moved over your body to kiss you.  “I want to make you feel good, but if you’re nervous, I don’t have to.”

“No no, I really want you to.”

The two of you couldn’t help but giggle at your response, Tyson kissing you again – quick, little kisses on your lips – before pulling away.  “Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?  I’ll stop the second you want me to.”

You nodded in agreement.  Not that you’d have to tell him to stop.  If he was going to go down on you, there was no way in hell you’d ask him to stop.  There wasn’t a force on God’s green earth that would make you ask him to stop.  You closed your eyes as Tyson began slowly kissing his way down your body, pulling up your shirt to just underneath your breasts so he could kiss your soft tummy, dragging his tongue and lips along your skin before he got below your belly button.  His hands went to your thighs, spreading your legs apart for him. 

“You’re so beautiful, Hazel.”

A warmth washed over your body at the words.  You watched as he got between your legs, bringing his finger up to feel you.  You flinched slightly, already so sensitive.  You could see a smirk on Tyson’s face as he brought an arm around to keep your keep your hips down.

There was no precursor for Tyson – no tentative licks or little flicks of the tongue first to ease you into it.  He just went right in.  He’d waited long enough.  It made your jaw drop, a mewl leaving your mouth almost instantly.  And he didn’t stop from there.  He lapped at you like you were his last meal on earth the entire time he was down there, making you bunch the bed sheets into your fists, your knuckles white.  As your moans got louder, you couldn’t help but start writhing in bed.  But his arm across your hips was limiting your ability to move, which just made it all the better.  You reached down to grab on to some of his curls.  He looked up at you with his blue eyes and you almost came right then and there.

“You alright?” he asked quickly.

You nodded.  “I’m almost embarrassed to tell you how long I’ve dreamt of you doing this to me.”

You watched as the corners of his eyes crinkled.  “Am I better or worse than your little fantasies?”

“Better,” you said automatically.  “So much better.”

The vibration from his proud little chuckle just made the experience even more pleasurable.  After a short while, you could feel a warmth take over your body, and you knew you were close.  You verbalized this to Tyson, who kept doing what he was doing and didn’t change his rhythm at all – thank God.  Eventually, you felt your orgasm overcome you, your body writhing at the feeling.  You tried to stop your legs from coming together and squeezing Tyson’s head between your thighs, but he didn’t seem to mind when you couldn’t control it anymore.  He moved in tune with each buck of the hips, each squirm, never taking his mouth off your pussy, even for a second. 

When your orgasm subsided, and you tried to catch your breath after all the moaning and calling out of his name, Tyson kissed the inside of your thighs before moving back up your body.  You were desperate to kiss him and crashed your lips onto his when he was close enough.  “So sweet,” he mumbled against your lips.

“Christ almighty, Ty.”

He continued kissing you, slow and steady and full just like before, moving to pull your top off.  You played with the waistband of his sweatpants for a bit, just to tease him, before pushing them and his underwear down all in one go.  You could feel how hard he was then, his cock resting between you.  “What other little fantasies have you had about me?” he asked.

You were not prepared for that question.  And you were not prepared for having to think about answering as he was kissing his way down your chest.  “How much time do we have?” you tried to joke.

“Tell me,” his voice was firm, right before he took a nipple into his mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of it all, Ty,” you admitted, closing your eyes to savour the feeling of what he was doing.  “I’ve been dreaming about you since I was, like, twenty-one.  That’s a lot of time.  What about you?”

He stopped what he was doing, coming back up and bringing one of his hands up to move some hair out of your face.  “D’you know how many times I’ve replayed Portofino and Tokyo in my head?” he asked.

So you weren’t the only one.  What a feeling it was to know.  “Yeah?”

“When we fell between the two beds…” he began, his thumb gliding over your lips.  “You don’t forget things like that.”

You nodded because you understood.  You had never forgotten that moment either, mostly because it was one of the few moments in your life when you felt pure, genuine happiness.  “I love you, Tyson.”

He kissed you.  “I love you too, Hazel.”

You kissed each other for a while again, your nails digging into the skin on his arms and back.  It was only when he was biting down at the skin near your collarbone that he spoke again.  “Will you let me make love to you?”

“No.”

Tyson stopped everything.  He looked up at you.  “No?”

“I know you can go harder than that,” you said.  “I haven’t felt you in seven years, Ty.  I need it.”

He was like a man possessed after you said those words, his hands and lips all over you with zero abandon.  In one swift movement, he grabbed onto your hips and flipped you over on to your stomach.  You got excited at the new position.  “Is this okay?” he asked.

“You bet,” the excited grin grew on your face as you got on our hand and knees.

You positioned yourself and purposely crashed your ass into his hips, causing a groan to escape him before you could feel his hand between your bodies, stroking himself several times before using his head to tease your pussy.  You gripped onto the sheets, arching your back and biting your lip.  When he finally pushed inside you, you let out a cry.  He felt just as good as you remembered,  if not better.  “Jesus fuck, Ty,” you couldn’t help but swear as you felt him fully in you.  He was giving you a few moments – you knew that – but you were so desperate to feel him pump in and out of you that you almost resented the fact he wasn’t moving yet.  “Fuck me, Tyson.  It’s been seven years.  Let me feel all of you.” 

With every thrust, you could feel every inch of your body igniting on fire.  His moans and grunts, the way his hands were gripping on to your hips, the movement of your bodies, the song of the sounds you were making – it all came together in the most pleasurable experience.  You got louder and louder as he pounded into you just as you wanted.  “God Ty, you feel so fucking good,” you said, flipping your hair over your shoulder to be able to look at him. 

“Was this one of your little fantasies too?” he asked.

You nodded.  “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

You sighed out, unable to form coherent thoughts.  You knew this was only the beginning of the night.  If you knew Tyson – and you did – he’d be asking you about all of them, and you wouldn’t be able to get out of it.  Not that you wanted to.  “We were doing exactly this, but…”

“But?”

“But you pulled me up by my hair,” you said.

To your surprise, you could feel him wrap some of your hair around his hand before tugging on it and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest.  He was gentle but still purposeful with his movements, knowing what he was doing to you.  “Then what?”

You gulped.  He had slowed his pace moving in and out of you, but the way you were positioned already made it feel so good.  Your body shivered at what it would feel like when he lost all control.  “You…you had one hand here to hold me up,” you said, grabbing on to his left hand and putting it at the base of your neck.  “Just don’t squeeze,” you added quickly.

“I won’t,” he gave you a quick kiss on your shoulder.  “What else?”

“Your…your other hand was here,” you grabbed on to his right hand, placing it on your pussy so his fingers were directly on your clit.  “You were fucking me so good I was seeing stars, Ty.  I woke up and started touching myself.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.  “Was there anything else?”

You nodded.  You took another deep breath.  “You were…you were leaving marks,” you admitted.  “All here…and here…” your hand moved over your neck and shoulders on both sides before settling back on top of his hand that was on the base of your neck.  “When I woke up, after I touched myself, I went to the mirror to see if the marks were real.  I was so sad I didn’t have them.”

Tyson’s lips began kissing at your neck and shoulder.  “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

“Yes please.”

Tyson’s lips went back to your neck and you could immediately feel him sucking at the skin there, no doubt leaving one of the marks you so wanted.  Without warning, he began pumping harder and quicker too, building up a rhythm that hit the most perfect spot in you and made you cry out in pleasure over and over again.  His fingers began massaging your clit, too, and it all truly felt like a dream, a dream you had dreamed for seven, eight, nine – maybe ten years now.

You could feel your throat dry up from how long Tyson had been fucking you.  You knew you were close to your second orgasm of the night – but it definitely wouldn’t be the last.  “Harder, Ty.  I’m so close.”

You cried out when you felt just how hard he started to go, and soon enough, you saw those stars you had once dreamed of.  The feeling was so intense, and just like the previous times with Tyson, you could feel the pleasure rush through your body from your head all the way to your toes, and down deep in your bones.  He was still holding you up, but you felt yourself collapsing, on account of your legs feeling like complete jelly.  But then you heard Tyson moan and felt him come inside you, and another rush coursed through your body – so intense that you had to put your hand over his and get him to stop teasing your clit or else you were sure you would explode and cease to exist.  Whatever you had ever dreamed previously wasn’t as good as this – it was impossible to compare.

Your heart was beating out of your chest.  You hung on to every last feeling of your orgasm until it passed, slowly.  “Shit,” you could hear Tyson curse behind you, his head still on your shoulder.  “Holy shit.  Holy shit.”

“God, Ty,” you breathed out.  His one hand left your neck, and the other hand left your pussy, and when they did, you felt yourself collapse onto the bed.  Apparently your legs were still non-functioning.  You began to giggle at just how fucked out you were, shifting yourself over to your back. 

Tyson smiled too, albeit nervously.  “I don’t know if giggling is the best reaction here.”

“It’s a good thing,” you let out as he sunk down beside you.  You turned your head to look at him, so he could see it in your eyes.  “Trust me.”

Tyson giggled too then.  “I’ll take it.”

“You’re gonna have to start getting used to it.  Especially tonight,” you said.  You rolled yourself on top of his chest, looking down on his face.  “I mean, I’ve had so many other little fantasies…”

“Baby, I’m just getting warmed up.”

***

19th July 2023

and if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow and it's alright now

The nail bed wasn’t supposed to fall down Tyson’s back and arms, but of course Tyson couldn’t take the spot lightly.  And because Tyson couldn’t ever take a spot lightly, his back was now all scratched, gashes and little holes down his entire left side – the same side you’d had to bandage and put ointment on just seven weeks ago.  At least there were no thumbtacks. 

Once he had finished pulling said thumbtacks out of Kota’s back, he hauled himself onto a training table and a trainer began assisting him.  Cotton swabs, disinfectant – there was even a stitching kit ready to go.  Matt was on the phone with Dana, Nick was Facetiming with Ellen, and Kota was in his own world.  It was a good a time as ever to stand next to Tyson.

You weren’t crying this time.  This was already a huge success.

The trainer had cleaned his hands first, bloody from the wreckage in the ring.  You watched as the trainer wiped away the blood on his face, disinfecting the area and making him wince.  When the trainer moved to his back, Tyson looked at you.

“You okay?” he whispered. 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly.  “I’m not crying, so we’re leaps and bounds better than where we were several weeks ago.”

“Does it look bad?”

“It looks like you got into a fight with a bear at the cottage.  But somehow, you won the fight.”

Tyson’s laugh was interrupted by a wince.  It was obvious the trainer was disinfecting an area.  He grabbed onto your hands, squeezing them at the next sting.  You squeezed back.  “I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you too.”

As quick as a lightning flash, he brought your hands up to his lips to kiss them.  Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Matt watching, his eyes bulging out of their sockets with his eyebrows raised in shock.  When he saw you looking at him, he smirked and mouthed only one word to you.  Finally. 

Everything was okay.  Everything was alright. 

[aihoshiino]

An Interview with Ai: Da Vinci Magazine Jan. 2024 (4chan Anon TL)

In the issue of Da Vinci Magazine dated for Jan 2024, there was an exciting surprise - four whole pages of an in-character interview with Ai of B-Komachi! Taking place shortly before her 20th birthday, Ai discusses various things with the interviewer, resulting in some surprising new information about her relationships with certain characters and her own home life...

To be clear up front: This is not my translation! I'm archiving and mirroring it from 4chan where it was originally posted by an anon. I've made no changes to the text save cleaning up some grammar errors and typos and formatting it for tumblr. I plan on doing my own translation of the interview, either via scans or buying the magazine myself when I have the money, but for now, I hope this will do!

Q: It seems to have been a turbulent year for B-Komachi and Ai as well. Looking back, what was your impression?

Ai: That's true. It really went by in the blink of an eye. Everyone was so busy, myself included. It was so strange. Before I knew it, we were already scheduled to perform in the Tokyo Dome (laughs). I thought to myself, "I see... so we did come this far."

Q: You have taken on many challenges so far. What is your most memorable job?

Ai: I had a great time in all of them. There were also many occasions when I thought, "Are they asking me to do this too!?". But if I had to pick something other than my idol activities, then my most memorable job would be all the times I had to work in movies. I met so many people that, at the end, it felt like hanging out with friends. And then, in the blink of an eye, the job would be over (laughs).

Q: You were really getting into it (laughs). But acting is completely different than being an idol. Did you find it difficult?

Ai: For me, it is normal to be photographed as well as being filmed while singing, on a music video, or during variety shows. I wonder if I was able to put that experience to good use, but then I think about it, and I believe I did it perfectly!!

Q: ...so was it difficult?

Ai: Having to deal with the waiting time was more difficult at first. I know I shouldn't say this, but sometimes I was sooo bored (laughs). But finding new ways to kill time was fun.

Q: It's like the saying goes, "Waiting is part of an actor's job."

Ai: Oooh, I had no idea there was a saying like that! How interesting!!

Q: Looking back, Ai's first drama was directed by Taishi Gotanda, and then you worked with him in subsequent films too. What impression do you have of him?

Ai: He has a scary face. But when I talk to him, there are many times when it feels like he's just a useless adult. In that aspect, I can sympathize with him. There were times I was eating my lunch, and whenever rice fell while eating, he would just jump and say, "WATCH OUT!" like a mom (laughs). But well, I love his works. Whenever I watched them, it felt like, "Ah, his passion for authenticity is genuine." As a creator myself, I knew I could trust in him.

Q: It certainly feels like he's good at depicting the inner lives of characters.

Ai: That's right, it always feels like instead of characters, his works show real people. And I love that. I'm not a big fan of movies; at most, I watch some dramas recommended to me, and they are usually really entertaining! I think I'm not good for the roles of such characters, and I thank that director Gotanda's works aren't of that type.

Q: Your acting feels quite natural. What kind of acting guidance did the director give to you?

Ai: None, really. He just said, "Do as you please," and I just went with it. However, I don't think everyone was on the same page. In one of the sets, there was a child actress called Kana Arima-chan. She is suuuuuper cute, and whenever she was acting, I was thinking, "Wow, she's just like the character," and that's when it sunk to me that actors are capable of anything.

Q: Maybe it was possible that you, without realizing it, were asking Arima-san to lead the scenes?

Ai: Pretty much. In fact, she even scolded me (laughs). "Can you take this a bit more seriously?" she told me. I was doing my best, though! (laughs). But seeing Kana-chan so serious about doing a good job made me want to put even more effort into my role.

Q: That reminds me, there's a child actor from Ichigo Pro called Aqua-kun working on it too.

Ai: Ahaha, Aqua-kun was so cute too! He has such a mysterious charm, it made me wonder "maybe he's a genius too?" Don't forget to watch his future projects, alright?

Q: I won't. Returning to the topic of your activities as an actress, what part of it was the most interesting for you?

Ai: I still have problems understanding what "acting" means. Sometimes it felt that, well… rather than trying to find a character in myself, the character itself was taking over my own actions. Even thought I was acting, I didn't feel like myself, as if every action was being performed automatically. But rather than make me wonder about my talent or lack of, I guess it was all thanks to the wonderful script.

Q: I see. So in a way it's similar to separating Ai as a person and Ai as an idol?

Ai: There are parts of myself that I still don't understand, but I believe it's the same for everyone. Everyone acts with an idea of what they "want to become". Until now and from now on, I will continue working hard just so I can become the person that everyone wants me to be. In that sense I could say that I'm acting, playing the role of Ai. Of course it doesn't mean that I'm forcing myself to, it just happens unconsciously, naturally. I also have to face everyone in B-Komachi, how cute they are as well as their honesty. They show that cuteness to the fans, and for me, that's not an act.

Q: And said B-Komachi is now going to perform at the Dome. Why do you think the group is so beloved by fans?

Ai: It's because we worked together, because I knew that by working seriously we could go this far. Also I don't believe the Dome is our ultimate goal, or better said, I can't quite grasp how amazing is for us to perform there. Our boss said that he always wanted to see us perform there so I decided to do my best in order to make that dream come true. That's why, till now and from now on, I will continue working hard to fulfill everyone's dreams.

Q: So Ai's forte is to want everyone around her to be happy.

Ai: Yes. But I wonder if the rest thinks the same.

Q: Don't you have any personal ambitions?

Ai: Ah, now that you ask, I have a bit of a naughty opinion and is that I'm happy that we are selling a lot and getting a good amount of money (laughs). Being able to buy a really expensive ice cream is pure bliss. As for the rest, just seeing my fans happy is enough to make me happy too. But rather than happy, I guess it makes me feel at ease.

Q: When you say you feel at ease, is that similar to saying that you found a place where you belong?

Ai: A place where I belong… I'm sure everyone search such thing, I think it's the same for some members of B-komachi.

Q: …is it different for you?

Ai: I can't quite tell, it's something I'm having problems figuring that out. Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck in place, but then I feel like the energy I receive from everyone allows me to do my best as an idol as well as my other jobs, and in exchange, I'm able to bring smiles to them.

Q: I see. It's true that many types of fans have enjoyed your live performances in the past. Which reminds me, there was also this one video of baby twins cheering for you that went viral.

Ai: Oh yeah that one!! I can't believe how those babies could swing those glowsticks like that. It was so cute~. I feel so much bliss every time I watch it.

Q: During a TV show when they showed that video to you, many people in social media pointed out your smile while watching it

Ai: Oh right! I thought it was the same smile I always had. When I read those comments I couldn't help but ask to myself "Eh? What is so different?"

Q: From now I'll be making questions a bit more private. Could you tell us about how were you during your childhood?

Ai: I don't think I was a good child. If anything, I was a really nasty brat (laughs). Because our house was close to the railroad, during midnight I would often walk near the tracks wondering if the train is coming close. Once I hear it, I would run away. If I tried that today, I'm sure it would be a problem (laughs)

Q: Did you wonder where did you want to go back then?

Ai: I wonder. I didn't had an specific place in mind. I lived with my mother, but she had a boyfriend back then, always living in their own little bubble being loveydovey and it was rough for me. I just said "Ah, this is not my place" and ran away, I could think about the rest later.

Q: Maybe going to a friend's house was a better option.

Ai: I've always been a loner, since I was a kid. There were many times when people would get irritating and I would just prefer to be alone playing Tetris. Of course, that doesn't mean that I would take loneliness over company, but at times I could tell that, whenever someone was around, the mood between people would go sour and I then stayed away from them.

Q: But then, are there any fond memories you have from your childhood?

Ai: Let's see… I do remember my dad. It wasn't something that happened often, but this one time, we went to the grocery store and bought some natto. Then, when I took the plastic from it and wrapped it in seaweed, he said, "Oh, you did it well," and that made me happy. That's why, even to this day, I'm quite skilled at wrapping food in seaweed.

Q: Being praised by your parents is usually trivial, but for some, it's something fondly remembered when it happens. From your perspective, what were your parents like?

Ai: Maybe they were like me, seeing things from the same perspective. Rather than seeing each other like family, it felt more like partners in a way. But I can't hate them for that, no human is perfect and no one is actively seeking a parental role.

Q: That's quite a mature way of seeing things. 

Ai: I wonder. I'm in a parental role too… ooooor so I think that's what I feel whenever I see a child with their parents in the audience. It's because of my experience in my childhood that I can't comment on other parents whenever their children do something bad. Parenting is difficult, I'm sure.

Q: In that case, if Ai ever had a family, would you also treat your children as friends or partners instead of keeping a parent-child relationship?

Ai: It doesn't matter. As long as everyone is happy and smiling, then it's fine with me. If you asked me what a perfect family is, I just wouldn't know how to answer that. But it would be one as long as the children are happy. If I had a family, I would do whatever it takes to achieve that.

Q: I know I shouldn't ask this of an idol, but do you have someone you want to marry?

Ai: ...That's a secret (laughs)

Q: You were scouted in order to be an idol. What were your impressions about idols back then?

Ai: For me, they were so pure, always shining, and doing their best to support and care about their fans. That's how I saw idols. If the job of an idol is to make people happy, then I wanted to be like that too, well I'm still working on it.

Q: And now that you are one, has that image changed?

Ai: They are hard workers, just as I imagined. There are times when things get rough, but then I push myself like, "Let's just do it" and continue with pure momentum (laughs)

Q: It would be weird to not get used to the routine.

Ai: But I love it, with its ups and downs. There's been times I felt like I was doing something wrong, that maybe I didn't belong here, but then I remember that being able to be an idol is wonderful.

Q: For Ai, is this your dream job?

Ai: Hmmm, I wonder. I wouldn't go that far. A real idol truly loves their fans, is always kind, and would never lie. I'm still trying hard, doing my best, wondering if one day someone will look at me and say, "She is the real deal.".

Q: But there are many who describe Ai as an "unmatched genius idol."

Ai: Why do they even call me something like that? I'm just there in the group, being myself; I don't know which one of my actions qualifies me to be called that.

Q: In that case, for Ai, what does it mean to be an idol?

Ai: At times, I think that being an idol means being "able to express herself to others." Sounds cool, doesn't it? (laughs). In reality, I believe that it's about being able to replicate what others want from you. ….Hmmm, I guess it makes it sound like school or something.

Q: Do you feel B-Komachi in the same way?

Ai: B-Komachi is different. I met everyone when the group was created, and we wasted no time getting into idol activities. If I lagged behind even a bit, I felt like I was causing problems for others. But with the passing of time, we managed to spend more time together, and I feel like we share an irreplaceable bond.

Q: What is exactly this "irreplaceable bond"?

Ai: Ah, it's nothing too deep. It's just that I've started hanging out with the rest more often. I'm quite a home person, so when I ordered food for everyone, Takamii (Takamine) would get mad at me because the vegetable portions were too small. "You lack femininity! You will never become a wife at this rate!" (laughs). I never said I was thinking of becoming a wife! (laughs)

Q: (laughs) Earlier, you said that sometimes you felt alienated during your childhood. Didn't that cause problems for you, considering that you were chosen as the center of the group?

Ai: Kinda does. Even now, I still wonder if I should be the center. There are more capable members in the group. Of course, I feel honored, but I'm still unsure if I'm doing it right. Maybe other members should be in my position. Besides, it's hard to memorize the dance as a center (bitter laugh)

Q: As a final question, what are the current goals for B-Komachi?

Ai: We have new members joining us this year, so we are even more hyped than before, and we are finally performing in such a big venue as the Dome. B-Komachi has finally become a great group, and I'm sure they will be fine even after I'm gone. Not that I'm planning on quitting (laughs). All the members are so hardworking, kind, and cute. From now on, please, pretty please, support them as much as you can.

[aidlyncanon]

this is my first actual tumblr post since idk what to do but ive had this idea in my head for a while and I wanted to share 🤗

so heres what I think each sbg characters love languages are. I wanted to include both the love language they express towards other and the type that resonates? with them when expressed by others. i dont know how to word that but I hope itll make sense 🙏

if it's inaccurate im sorry im not great at wording but i did try and make it at least a bit accurate which is hard when im unsure to most of these

𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐋𝐘𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑: 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄/𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄?

— I feel like this may be the only one that properly fits Ashlyn. I could see her maybe also liking acts of service but i cant exactly explain why.

Maybe its because I think its also what she would do for others that I think it would fit. Like I said maybe acts of service like people doing little things to make her life easier.

I have a headcanon that Taylor or Ben has things in their bags for the others (total mom friends) so imagine her shock when she found out someone had ear plugs in their bag incase she needed them?

you get where im going with this?

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 ����𝐈𝐌𝐄

— I take little to no criticism on this. I can't imagine Ashlyn's being anything else. If she tried getting a gift she'd probably take too long wondering if theyd actually use it. Physical touch is a meh, she doesnt hate it but it wouldnt be her favourite. She said herself she isnt the best with words.

Her gift to people is just her presence. She'd be the type to occasionally need quiet but wouldn't mind being in comfortable silence with someone she likes. I feel like quality time would be her way of showing she cares for someone.

𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌: ???

— This is an idk because im basing these off of what we know about their background and character but we know like nothing so everything about this is based off of pure theory.

The only canon part i can mention is that during his conversation with Ashlyn at the school he mentioned how since he moved around a lot he never really had a true bond with anyone.

"You seemed like the type to only get close with people who mean something to you."

So Aiden didnt just want someone he could feel attached to, he also wanted to feel cared for. Its a two way street with him.

While I could see him loving physical touch as I doubt he got enough of that as a child and he clearly loves being touchy with people I feel like with what we know I could argue really any love language. He'd probably take anything if it makes him feel cared for.

I found a picture of a chart saying "your love language may show what you lacked as a child" and he checked every box so he's fucked.

I ultimately want to settle with physical touch as he seemed shocked when Ashlyn initiated the hug likely due to being the one to always initiate them. Like above he probably just wants his efforts reciprocated.

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

— Self explanatory we see him being touchy with Ashlyn. He also put his hand on Tyler (idk if this is still fast pass if it is my apologies).

"he did that as a stay away from my girl" stfu. 🤗

𝐁𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— I take ZERO criticism on this.

Were all aware how bad his bullying was so I doubt he heard anything nice about him.

The main thing that makes me believe this is that every time he gets complimented or something nice said about him he gets sort of flustered and blushes.

This ^ was ben after Ashlyn complimented his bandaging job. A small compliment I know but even after what taylor said about him opening up he blushed there too.

You can't deny it means a lot to him he probably thought about those for a while.

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

— I talked about this in a discord server briefly but I want to share it here. You know the quote "the quieter you are the more you hear"? Well thinking of that ive come up w the idea that Ben likely is more observant compared to most people.

Hed be the one to notice if someone was looking at something for a while in a store or hear it pass in conversation. Make a mental or physical note of it and get it for them.

I just imagine him being the type to be like "i know you like this" or "this reminded me of you". I feel like he wouldnt be the greatest at expressing it in many other ways so he resorts to getting people things.

Hes also pretty artsy so I can also just imagine him making people little things for them.

Like, tyler taught him guitar? gets tyler a new pick. Logan looking at something in the store? need to remember that. and so on

𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐒

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— Similar to Ben's. I could maybe see quality time being important to him as he hasnt had many people want to stick around him.

I mean his parents didnt want him and barrons group are just assholes so spending time with someone who genuinely cares for him? Doing an activity he enjoys? Hes over the moon.

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

— I can see him wanting to help people, i mean he helped Noah (the guy who barron replaced him with). I can imagine him doing little things for the group and people he loves.

He might get a bit embarrassed if confronted about it but ultimately hed do it again.

𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑: 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄???

— This is up in the air but I feel like it fit her the best? I imagine after her dad dying at a young age she grew up knowing that time with people is limited and can end at any moment.

So i can imagine her really appreciating someone spending one-on-one of just personal time with her. But i can also just see her appreciating any type.

My thing is I can imagine her being happy with receiving anything as long as someone had her best interest at heart then she'd become the happiest girl ever.

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— Another give in, she does it ALL THE TIME. Its literally her defining feature. Shes very good with words and likes making others feel better about themselves. Seeing people perk up from her words would be enough to make her own day better.

I imagine she too, like tyler, had to be there for her mom a lot. So she probably learnt it from that experience. I also imagine her want to make people happier stemmed from seeing Tyler slowly lose interest in everything around him and wanting to be able to be the person who could make his day just a bit better.

Though like above I could see taylor doing things she knows mean the most of others. Like the moment she realized Ben likes words of affirmations she made sure to compliment him a bit more. After realizing Ashlyn likes quality time she would find a way to do that while also not overwhelming Ashlyn, say a movie or just going on a walk. Shed make an effort to make people happy based off of what they love the most.

𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙

𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

— Tyler spent his entire childhood taking care of people so imagine how he would react to being taken care of for once.

I figure like at first hed be a bit reluctant however I think ultimately it would mean a lot to him to not have to always be rhe one taking care of others but being able to rest for once.

Like idk how to word it but I think it fits him, I could also see MAYBE words of affirmation? since he did want that when Logan Ashlyn and Ben found him but then again I dont blame him he was literally sitting bleeding.

𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄?

— This one has a question mark since im not sure. Taking care of others has just became nature to him, its his factory settings. Its not something he like goes and does to get people interested its just natural to him.

I dont think its something he'd do specifically to express care, he'd likely be unaware how much it could mean to someone since its just life to him.

Im not too sure what his would actually be MAYBE quality time again similar to Taylors in the sense that he knows just how fast someone can lose their lives so he likely would appreciate someone wanting to actually spend time with him.

Even if he wouldnt admit it.

If these are inaccurate then I apologize I did try to make them as accurate as I could but wording my thoughts isnt something i'm great at.

Most of these im unsure of but I wanted to talk about anyway so idk gimme ur opinions on them id love to hear them esp since im unsure for half of these :)

[itsteambarnes]

Can these wounds be mended? part 1

Synopsis: Y/N didn't have the easiest childhood which lead her having a lot of traumas. One of them being yelled at. Steve doesn't know that and seems he doesn't even care.

TW: Yelling, angst, crying, wounds

A/N: Let me know if I missed anything, my first post on here. I am not still sure how tumblr work on pc since I have been using it mostly on my phone. This story is very personal to me since my father used to yell at me about everything and I'm still very sensitive about being yelled at. Please comment how you want me to continue this, I appreciate every tip you could give me. Also, English is not my first language. I'm from Finland.

She didn’t have the easiest childhood. Physical and emotional abuse which lead her to being scared of men. She had a hard time not being triggered when someone raised their voice. Unfortunately Steve didn’t know about that. 

You had been an Avenger since your family disowned you. You found out about your abilities and decided to show them to your mom and dad. You’re able to become invisible and now that you think about it after, that is what your parents wanted you to be. Still they were shocked and kicked you out of your home. They had been waiting for an excuse to do that and now they had it. They told it to you themselves.

You lived on the streets until Shield found you. You had no money so you had no other choice than to turn invisible and steal some food. It caught Shield’s attention because in the surveillance cameras there were those stolen goods just floating in the air.They had some trouble finding you but they succeeded through that unfortunate google maps car driving right past when you changed from being invisible to normal.

Long story short, you became an avenger. With a lot of training and a lot of tears you gained control of your powers. But it seemed as if it wasn't enough for Captain America.

You had just gotten back from a rough mission. You had tried your best but there was one slip up. Your powers had faltered and you had shown yourself to the enemy at a critical point which had gotten you hurt. In the quinjet you were tending to your wounds. Others had tried to help you but oh dear Captain America had stopped them. You didn’t think much of it since you were used to people not caring or helping you. You thought you deserved to be treated this way and Steve knew that.

You were bleeding from your right thigh and left arm. The attacker had had some kind of a sword so the cut was deeper on your thigh. As the quinjet landed the bleeding hadn’t stopped and you limped out of there.

“Y/N, in my office, NOW!” you heard Steve shouting. You just nodded and kept limping. Tears started to sting your eyes. Blinking them angrily away you thought that they were for nothing. You deserve this, you messed up.  Limping your way to the elevator you kept blaming yourself. You should have not said yes to the mission. You set all your teammates to danger without thinking.

Taking a deep breath you open the door to Steve’s office. Your eyes are towards the floor and slowly you raise them. Your eyes meet Steve's blue ones. He is sitting by his desk, which is at the opposite of the door. He is looking at you sternly. You gulp.

“Finally, it took you long enough.”

“Sorry, my leg…”

“Enough with the excuses”, He interrupts and stands up. 

“How stupid can you be? You set your teammates in danger. You were supposed to control your ability. Did you lie to us about you being ready? Don’t even answer that, you made that clear in the field. I don’t know why Shield even thought you would be suitable for our team. You just fuck up everything!” He shouted and rubbed his temples.

“I… I… Just tried my…”, You started to defend yourself when he interrupted you.

“You just tried what? To fuck everything up? Because that’s what you did. You are a disgrace to this team and if it were up to me you would be kicked out after this. Get out of my office, I can’t even stand your face!” He shouted and pointed at the door. You tried to control the tears but couldn’t help them falling while you turned to the door. You got out of there as fast as you could. You felt a panic attack coming and were determined to get out of there before Steve could see it.

Thankfully you got out of his office without him seeing it or he just decided to ignore your discomfort. Once you were out of the door you dashed to the elevator. You can not break down before you get to your room! You had been working on your problems with someone yelling at you but when it came out of nowhere it was hard to deal with. Especially when someone shouted as Steve had. You would've done anything he asked without asking, just to get him to stop shouting at you. 

Tears burned your cheeks and you were grateful you didn’t run into anyone on the way to your room. Your wounds were hurting but you thought you deserved them. No reason to go to the medbay, no reason to bother anyone any more than you already had. 

Once in the security of your own room, you could let the panic and sorrow let loose. You gasped for breath and tried to calm yourself. You sat down on the floor and tried to calm yourself, just like your therapist had teached you. It just wasn’t working. The thought of being hated by Steve was just too much. Because, you know, you had the biggest crush on your team leader. He had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen and the sense of righteousness. He always thought about the wellbeing of others and was so understanding. Well, maybe you were the exception. It was obvious he didn’t think about your wellbeing or intentions on that mission. 

You, through hiccups, drag yourself to the bathroom. Getting out of the clothes you were wearing was a mission in itself. You surprise yourself by getting into the shower, the water turning to pink from the blood from your wounds. But you deserve those to not heal properly, don’t you?