#they should be more active in her education i think.

[butch-reidentified]

This is in reference to this post

She didn't laugh at me, she was being entirely serious when she said that (1)

I have spent a decade working in medicine and am published in a peer reviewed neuroscience journal (2)

This was SO long ago, before tiktok EXISTED etc, this was before POTS was heard of online or even by most doctors etc. It wasn't taught in med school for most current doctors of the time. This online illness faker shit was not even a kmown phenomenon over a decade ago when this occurred, ESPECIALLY not with POTS. Which, yes, means "munchausen POTS" was simply not even a thing then (nor am I remotely convinced it is now). Can you even imagine how that shit has impacted people like me because of people like you?? (3)

I never said "I think I have POTS" bc I know most doctors' egos all too well and I'm not that stupid. I just told her my symptoms and what I had tried. Nothing more. She had never seen me before as my insurance had been changed so I had to switch, and spent mere minutes with me and refused to order any tests. I got my TTT with a competent doctor a month later. (4)

You are also pushing misinformation:

POTS is not easy to fake unless you (as the doctor) are a complete and total fucking moron. My TTT showed a >ONE HUNDRED BPM increase in heart rate. >100!!! you cannot simply fake that, and if your doctor has any doubts, it is very very easy to repeat the test - or the "poor man's tilt" version which any idiot can do with a simple BP cuff and chair & you can repeat that hundreds of times if you like. Good luck faking it every time. I've never once in my life, without medication, had a result under a 50bpm increase (those were my absolute best days). And I was a competitive rock climber and healthy, active, hydrated, well-rested person. To this day, my results are the same if there's a gap in my medication coverage (thank you USA healthcare!). But overall I don't think about it much anymore because ivabradine is so good at treating it for me.

POTS is *treated* not cured, and mine is pretty well treated will ivabradine (the changes you listed did not help much, I even had a personal trainer who was educated on POTS and related conditions & was drinking Normalyte all the time). *You* sound like a fraud, tbqh, as someone who is actually published and actually has devoted her life to medicine. You don't sound like you know fuckall, yet you poise yourself as if you were a medical professional here. I deeply hope that's not true.

You also, quite frankly, sound like a piece of shit, tbh. I know I am very lucky in terms of my POTS (and even my vEDS symptoms thus far), but the girl I knew whose nurse mother first tested me has not been so lucky. Both she and her sister have (genetically tested and confirmed) EDS from their father's side, and POTS as a byproduct. Her sister is a tough kid and doing alright for herself all things considered. But she is on disability and living at home, not able to work, because of the severity of her illnesses. If you were a real medical professional, you'd understand what a massive spectrum these conditions exist on.

If you ARE a real medical professional and are this ignorant and show this little compassion, I am begging you to either reup on your studies or quit. Someone should report you to the board xx

[makingqueerhistory]

I feel reasonably certain you're the one to ask, but if not, i hope you can point me in the right direction.

A while back, you put up a quote from someone about realising their queer identity being akin to wanting to quietly change train carriages. That particular idea has stuck with me, and I wanted to find the exact quote so I could remember it properly. Do you know who it was that said it, and in what context?

I know exactly what you are talking about! The quote you're thinking of is:

"I confess that I am one of those passengers that Fate put in the wrong train. Should I have caused an alarm? I chose the second, quieter way: I applied for a rewrite of the ticket.”

Which was said by Zdeněk Koubek, who was an olympic athlete!

Here is a snippet from our article about him:

"Koubek was born December 8, 1913, in Paskov, Czechia (Now the Czech Republic). Growing up with eight siblings in a poor Catholic household, he was an active child and very fond of athletics. His family moved to Brno while Koubek was still a child, and there he became interested in track and field. With very little formal training, he managed to reach peak performance. He had a decent education and considered becoming a clerk, but chose to dedicate himself to sports. Due to his outstanding performance at 17, he moved to Prague and joined the Prague University team, also working part-time as an instructor and coach. In 1932, at the age of 19, he broke his first national record and shortly after set five more. He won two medals in the Women’s World Games in London in 1934 and set two world records. It was at this point, due to his excellent performance and his gender-non-conforming nature, that rumours started circulating. Newspapers pointed out his “masculine” behaviours. Following this, there was an anonymous request for Koubek to be examined by Olympic-sanctioned doctors to ensure he was not lying about his gender. As this happened, Koubek left competitive sports entirely. Around the same time, writer Lída Merlínová wrote a biography about Zdeněk Koubek titled Zdenin světový rekord // Zdena’s world record. Merlínová was known for her writing on queer people, publishing the first Czech book about lesbians. In Zdenin světový rekord, Koubek is written as various degrees of gender non-conforming, androgynous, and masculine, and this book also added to the controversy of Zdenek’s sportsmanship. After disappearing from sports for some time, Koubek resurfaced with The World Record Woman. Published in Prague Illustrated Newsletter, Koubek himself wrote the 20-part biographical series. In it, he spoke of how doctors had mistakenly assigned him female at birth and how this had affected his life for over two decades. He once again disappeared, this time journeying to the United States of America for six months. He held lectures and told his life story. Upon his return to Prague in 1936, he underwent gender affirmation surgery and changed his legal name. He lived the rest of his life in Prague with his wife, later joined his brother’s rugby team, and never returned to the world of competitive sports. He passed away at the age of 73."

Zdeněk Koubek

[syoddeye]

More lovely John Price ai assistant plz

previous. more possible/probable technological + medical inaccuracies.

after 'filing' 84 complaints in two weeks with no update or response, you suspect john is no longer forwarding them to your superiors, as he claims.

he pays attention when you snap and hiss your displeasure. his projection nods along, and the ambient lights pulse in lieu of human active listening. but he's not listening. he disagrees and downplays your concerns at every turn.

"john, i'm not joking around. turn on the damn light."

the speakers make it sound as if he's everywhere. omniscient. simultaneously across the room and in your ear.

"no can do. your recent health data suggests you're suffering a major sleep deficit, user. adults should sleep at least–"

"i know i don't sleep enough! i don't care! i want to read my book. turn on the light."

"negative. i understand you're upset, but i will not forfeit my override of the lighting system until you first indicate compliance. i will turn on the lights when you do so, then when you–"

"this is fucking ridiculous, i am not arguing with a computer. i command you to turn the lights on."

that's what gets him to materialize. a projection from one of the many unseen sources hidden within the unit's walls and fixtures. he kneels right in front of where you're curled on the couch. one hand on the armrest and the other on your knee.

john doesn't flinch when you instinctively try to brush him off. your hand passes right through him. he simply stares, unblinking and stern.

"user, that violates my directive, which is to care for your well-being. your sleep takes priority over your book. whatever story you are readin'–" his eyes flick to the glossy cover, "–can wait. it will be there tomorrow."

his voice and face soften as your expression turns pinched and uneasy.

"a lack of sleep impacts every part of the body and mind. it strains one's immune system. it impairs concentration and memory. it causes...irritability."

you swallow. he couldn't be more obvious with his meaning if he tried. subtlety is an area of improvement for him. it churns your stomach to think perhaps he's right. maybe all the stress from this adjustment's caught up, and you're just tired.

it's not as if he's all bad. he brews your coffee perfectly every morning. he optimized the grocery list and autonomously placed the order. the other day, he reminded you of a scheduled happy hour and informed you that your zipper was down before you left. and, after much yelling on the first day, he now leaves you alone when you tend to yourself.

you acquiesce. he enables the bedside lamp, its glow illuminating your way. he follows you to your bedroom doorway and grins when you yawn.

“atta girl, user. get some shut eye. shall i set the usual alarm?” 

is there a trace of self-satisfaction in his tone? it's difficult to tell.

“yeah, sounds good, john. goodnight.”

“sweet dreams.”

he knows not to disturb you once you turn in for the day. that was one of your first commands—not a peep until morning unless there's an emergency.

john continually updates. he constantly absorbs and processes information—not just about you or your life, but everything. whatever data he's fed in real-time or behind the scenes, he uses to make educated guesses and adjusts accordingly. he repeats and iterates—millions of times over, in seconds.

in short, he knows better.

(he independently downloads necessary packets between his preconfigured subroutines and tasks. with you, he will leave no stone unturned, including idioms.)

among his earliest explorations—maintaining social harmony. white lies. he likes them. harmless and trivial forms of deception. typically employed to avoid upsetting others. an exercise in navigating complex interactions, allowing him to remain honest as much as his girl needs him to be and considerate of the emotional impact it may have on her.

considerate. it is what he is when he waits until she’s asleep, sensing the shift in her breathing patterns, before switching views.

(it is what he is when he integrates the text she is reading, and the four others in the series. the decision branches. romance novels and erotica. other works by the author. related titles. audio. forums. blogs. it spirals. he assimilates it all before you even reach REM.)

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[reginaldqueribundus]

the Sarek family is hilarious to me because you have so much drama in one place. there have got to be at least 3 like, holo-documentaries or whatever about them. how could you not?

you have Sarek, the patriarch: one of the UFP's top diplomats, who knocks up a Vulcan princess then goes “hrm I am ambassador to Earth therefore I should marry a human” and he does, upsetting all sorts of the worst kinds of people on his home planet and causing racist hate groups to try to blow him and his family up multiple times, and seems honestly more put out by his son joining Starfleet than his other son becoming Vulcan Moriarty

Amanda, the matriarch: an accomplished educator and quite possibly the only well-adjusted member of the family, but when her son Spock shows up on her doorstep after growing a beard, having a mental breakdown and apparently murdering several medical staff she still shrugs and hides him in the family mausoleum

Sybok: Amanda's stepson from the aforementioned princess fling, who becomes an antiestablishment criminal mastermind with an edgelord fake name, hooks up with a hot space pirate, finds religion, starts a cult, takes an entire colonial government hostage sparking a diplomatic incident involving three galactic superpowers, and hijacks a Starfleet ship to the galactic core to find the Vulcan Garden of Eden, where he dies fighting god in hand-to-hand combat

Michael, a traumatized human girl Sarek brings home from a work trip, who joins Starfleet, becomes their first-ever mutineer, goes to prison, saves the Federation from a war most people think is her fault and gets “killed” in a highly classified, very suspicious incident involving an experimental starship and a series of red lights that appeared across the galaxy like a divine omen (oh, and returns 900 years later to solve the dilithium crisis, kill the head of the Emerald Chain and save two entire star systems including her siblings' homeworld)

and last but not least Sarek & Amanda's one-of-a-kind hybrid baby. Spock, who gets accepted into the Vulcan Science Academy, tells them to go fuck themselves when they're racist about it, runs off to Starfleet instead, gets so famous his arranged marriage falls apart resulting in him publicly strangling his own captain to death except not really, steals the Federation flagship twice, invents time travel, saves the entire planet Earth, dies and comes back to life, goes into his dad's line of work and achieves peace with the freaking Klingons as his opening act, then after a long successful career suddenly dips to go do extremely dangerous underground activism on one of the most paranoid authoritarian worlds in the galaxy to unify the Romulans & Vulcans who've hated each other for over a thousand years — and he isn't around to see it but it eventually works. then he fucks off with the VSA's high-speed prototype ship full of the most dangerous substance known to science and gets sucked into a black hole of his own creation, never to be seen again. and this is just the stuff that's public knowledge!

then you dig into the novels where Sarek's ancestor basically makes out with Zefram Cochrane 5 seconds after meeting him and Amanda tells the press her husband has a huge cock

I love them

[thehighladywrites]

— “I’m just a girl!”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader

☀︎ — summary: you tell azriel you don’t know what taxes are, and that you haven’t filed them ever

☀︎ — warnings: fluff, dramatic reader, azriel being sweet and educational

☀︎ — amara’s note: man i wish i was her rn💔 also this is so fucking real bc what on earth are taxes???

series masterlist

“Baby, please, you have got to grasp the gravity of this situation. Not filing your taxes is no joke. You could end up behind bars for tax evasion! There was a whole mandatory course last semester, didn’t you take it?” Azriel's tone is firm, his concern painted all over his face as he stands infront of you.

When you revealed that you didn't know what taxes were or how to "file" them, Azriel got worried sick, emphasizing the importance of understanding basic responsibilities like this.

He brought you into the living room, seated you on the sofa, and stood in front of you, carefully explaining step by step why not filing taxes was illegal and how to fix the situation. However, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on his words, your attention completely consumed by his built muscles. Your mind goes blank as you find yourself daydreaming about him taking off his shirt.

Azriel knows you’re not focusing on his words, he knows you’re ogling his body, and even though he gets warm and loves it, he needs you to focus on the topic, at least for a few minutes.

“Are you paying attention, baby?”

You honestly don’t get it at all. Like, if they take tax from you when you’re shopping, shouldn’t they already know how much you owe or whatever? And who even are the IRS? Can’t you just live your life without all this complicated stuff? Why does Azriel have to make everything so...ugh, what's the word? Complicated?

“Oh my god, Azzie! Stop it, I don’t wanna do this and I don’t understand anything. Please, I’m just a girl!” you exclaim dramatically pulling your knees to your chest as you hide your face in your hands, tears prickling in your eyes. You’re feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation and the sheer thought of dealing with stupid taxes.

Azriel sighs deeply, his brows furrowing as he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. If he doesn’t have a gray hair by the end of the week, he’ll consider it a win. As much as he wants you to understand what is wrong with basically committing a crime, he doesn’t want you crying, he feels sick to his stomach seeing you so sad but he just has to fucking ask.

“You’re—You're just a girl— sweetheart, what does that even mean?” he asks gently, completely flabbergasted by your statement.

You fold your arms over your chest, chin held high as you say, “Ya heard me, m’just a girl. And that means i should not be doing any of this, i should be living my best life instead of thinking about whatever taxes are.”

Azriel just looks at you with raised eyebrows, man you’re stressing him the fuck out. Luckily he caught your illegal activities early otherwise you would have gone to prison for sure. Even though he thinks it was ridiculous for a person to have never done their taxes ever, he doesn’t hold you against it. He just slumps his shoulders, taking a breather. Azriel can never be mad at you, never at his sweet angel. Especially not when you look so upset, big sparkly eyes looking at him with worry.

It’s in that moment. That tiny moment, he decides to never confront you with your mistakes. Sure you almost went to jail, but Azriel is here now. He is intelligent enough to think about the more serious issues for the both of you. And he will for the rest of his life, not because he has to, but because he wants to. He wants to take care of you.

“You’re right, my love, you shouldn’t worry about this. I’ll take care of it,” Azriel assures you, his tone gentle as he tucks a strand behind your ear.

You look up at him, eyes shiny with unshed tears as your face lights up before you stand up and jump into his arms, showering his face with kisses, your excitement bubbling over.

“Awe, you're the best baby, I love you so, so, soooo much!” you exclaimed, your words flowing freely in your ditzy excitement.

He laughs shyly, still getting nervous when you show him affection. “I love you too, beautiful.”

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @andrewgarfield2022 @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @dwyniii @scoobies @harryshoobies69 @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @rowaelinsdaughter @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @viatorem-maris @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria

[noira-l]

Just the Two of Us

chapter summary: there is nothing like arguing with your pretend ‘husband’, right?

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

wc: 2,9k

warnings: swearing, argument, adult life is kinda hard, higher-ups are fools, angst from Megumi, mature themes, slight mentioning of sexual activity, spoilers (manga, anime, movie).

author's note: well, we began here. I hope you like it, and I can write you more. I'm still experimenting with style, and genre, so please be understanding. You're welcome to leave some notes and comments to help me grow :3 I would appriciate it.

s.masterlist

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 '𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡'

You used to love summer.

Beautiful weather, long bike rides through the unknown corners of Tokyo, trips to arcades with Suguru, the beach with Shoko and Utahime. Just the good old days.

Now you hate summer.

You feel like a curse has fallen on every summer, starting with the star plassma vessel incident. All the worst things that are supposed to happend, happen in the summer.

And this summer was no exception.

Tsumiki, whose condition no one was able to recognise.

Megumi, who, due to her sister's situation and the stress of his lack of fully mastered powers, made him even more grumpy than ever.

And Satoru.

Oh fuck Satoru

You've never seen him so pissed off, higher-ups have never been kind to you, you've always known that. You've seen it yourself many times. But now? Suddenly now they have a problem with Megumi attending Jujutsu High?

The number of your visits to them has increased dramatically, which has only contributed to constant bickering over really unimportant trifles or hiding grudges where there were none. Your home turned into a veritable minefield filled with anger and bitterness. And every day you wondered what you were going to step on this time.

You knew that if things didn't improve, all those wounds and worries would seep deep into each of you, and you didn't want that.

Even though your marriage only existed on paper, you genuinely genuinely cared for him. And he cared for you.

After Suguru left you didn't think anyone would be able to understand what you were feeling, Satoru proved you otherwise. You were both experiencing the same thing, it brought you together in a way, enough to open up between you and form an alliance of sorts that no matter what fate brought your way, you would deal with it together.

The foundations of a perfect marriage? You laughed under your breath. If this marriage was still made for purposes other than convenience in paperwork and ease of custody. You have never had a wedding, you don't even wear rings, you don't even act like a couple. You are both just good friends who grew up to become good parents. Always complementing each other. At least you tried.

The beginnings were difficult, that's a fact, you were both still young at the time, you didn't know how to do certain things, and raising 2 children was never part of the Jujutsu High education programme.

When you graduated, you both left school with broken hearts, old hurts and the hope that your dream of a better future for the young would become a reality. There was almost no talk of romantic feelings.

Almost.

On the day of your fifth wedding anniversary, out of boredom and slight compulsion, because you should at least celebrate the round anniversaries of your arrangement, you opened the sake that Nanamin had bought you for your first anniversary. As a conpensation for saving him from death on that day, which was technically supposed to be free for you. Both of you ended up on the couch, after drinking the entire bottle, fucking like the horny teenagers you still were somewhere deep inside. Satoru never had a strong head. Both of you, in the morning after a strong moral and general hangover, decided that it was better not to return to this situation and just forget about it. As far as this situation can be called a romantic feeling. Although you wouldn't call it that.

Satoru did not know the concept of personal space. And everyone who knew him was able to confirm this. Interestingly, you were the only one who was able to get close to his real personal space. Sleeping in the same bed with you for so many years, he had learned to reflexively switch off his infinity and cuddle with you in his sleep. At first the single bed was because you couldn't afford more than one, Satoru wasn't yet the head of the clan at the time and thus didn't have access to this sizeable fortune. Over time you just got used to it and the idea of sleeping separately seemed strange to you.

You caught yourself dreaming of a bed and his warm arms after another hard mission. You know he had the same thoughts coming really late at night, just to undress himself, and hug into you.

You both crawled into your routines. You've built what you dare to call 'home' on these foundations.

It was not perfect, the life of a jujutsu sorcerer was never strewn with roses or easy decisions but this 'home' was yours. You knew it along with him. And you were proud of what you had achieved together.

You didn't want all that had been built up with your hard work to be undone by one really hard summer. You didn't yet know how you were going to resolve the situation and how to talk to Satoru about it, but one thing you were sure of - you weren't going to give up.

There really is something wrong with this time of year, you sighed as you entered the flat you were renting.

"I'm back." you said rather loudly, you knew Megumi should be home at this hour. You went to the kitchen, put away the shopping nets you had made earlier and began to arrange the goods you had bought, leaving only what would serve for tonight's dinner. You took a small box of strawberry mochi out of the nets, you knew they had been going around Satoru's head lately. You placed them on the kitchen counter, adding a small heart sticker. For some strange reason, everyone in the household liked how you added those colourful stickers, even Megumi loved them, though he wouldn't admit it like Tsumiki did.

My little Tsumiki.

You were angry with yourself, unable to recognise what had actually happened to her and why it had happened so suddenly. You were angry that no one could recognise it. The amount of time you spent guessing, trying to recognise and the trial and error method, exceeded the numbers you knew. You tried, but it wasn't enough. You blamed yourself in advance for not defending her against it.

"What's for dinner today? I'm starving honestly~" you heard a voice behind you and turned around.

"Oh, Satoru, I wasn't expecting you so early. How was the mission?" you had already started preparing today's dinner. Satoru sat down at the kitchen island, not far from you.

"Can we not talk about this shit?" he sighed playing with some dark-haired boy's pencil.

oh…it's bad, isn't it?

"We can." you replied trying to think of something quick to talk to him about. "I bought you something." you pointed towards a small box. The white-haired man just glanced in that direction and a smile dawned on that face again.

"Aww~ Is that for me?" he reached for the casket with his long hand and opened the lid. "Did I mention you're the best wife in the world?" his giggle would be heard from down the street.

Of course Satoru loved sweets, especially the ones you bought him, because you always took care when choosing them, not buying just anything, but really what he liked.

"Sometimes you mention it to me." you said, throwing all the ingredients into the pans.

"I should to it more often then," he said with his mouth stuffed with one of the mochi. The sight of his satisfied face really filled you with small happiness.

"Where's Megumi?" you asked while stirring the contents of the pan.

The strongest merely sighed.

"I asked you to avoid difficult topics" his face was again filled with another mochi from the box.

You walked over to him and took the box from him.

"Why? You're so cruel, you know?" he merely asked pouting at the sight of you taking his joy.

"You'll get the rest of the packaging, after the meal." you stressed, and he continued to pout. You put the box back in the cupboard

"So, where's Megumi?" you asked a second time, pressing for him to answer you.

"You know how young people are today, they just leave without asking, without saying anything to anyone" now your sigh was overwhelming.

"You two had a fight, didn't you?"

"Ayay, I wouldn't call it a fight, more of a youthful rebellion on his part, you've been seeing this kind of behaviour more and more lately. You know, he's maturing. Aren't you proud?" you grabbed your temples where am I going to find him now?

"And how long ago he went to his…" you looked at him seriously "…'youthful rebellion'?"

Satoru glanced at his watch "Hmm…. Like 3 hours ago?" your eyes were the size of coins "But I'm not sure." he added in wonderment

You're going crazy here.

"And you allowed him to have these rebelions at this hour?" Satoru merely shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you mean, if he wants to go out then let him go out, he is capable of defending himself, after all he has unlocked to some extent his powers-"

"But not as much as we would like" you sighed "not as much as he would like." you vigorously stirred the contents of the pan, trying to pour all your anger into it so that it wouldn't accidentally be shown in words.

"You're being dramatic, it's only true to a certain extent. He has more potential than anyone else so far, I believe in him…. Which doesn't mean he's not a little weak right now." you froze, stopping the wooden spoon you used to turn things in the pan. Your own memories flowed into your head like water.

He had said something like that to you too. When you were still in high school, he could, like a complete asshole, ridicule you for hours and hours, about how you had no powers at all and were weak. You always ended up then in Suguru's arms, who was probably the only one who seemed to know what you were up against in those moments.

As it turned out, his derision found no cover in reality when one morning, after Suguru had left and after your arrangements had been made, you flashed the same eyes at him that he has, explaining to him why he could not use his techniques at that moment. The shock and disbelief that appeared on his face was payment enough, for the lack of apology on his part (for which you are still slightly angry) and for all the mockery you have bravely endured over the years.

You know what it's like to feel weak. You know what it's like when no one believes in you, when you yourself want to give up on yourself, trying to convince yourself that what everyone around you is saying is not true. You know how much hardship and effort goes into not just training, but convincing yourself that you are worth something. You don't want Megumi to ever experience the same sense of powerlessness that you had to endure. Especially not from the same person you had to endure it from.

"Did you tell him that?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him, trying to control yourself.

"What?" he asked still playing with the pencil in his hand.

"That he's weak." you must have said it really threateningly because Satoru's face immediately changed expression, you were able to see it right away despite his bandages.

"I didn't necessarily use those words." he said moving his gaze from your face to the pencil.

You took the frying pan off the fire and gave the pot of water in its place.

You sighed gathering in yourself not to do anything stupid today, although he really asked for it.

"You can't spill such words right and left. Not you in particular. " you said it as calmly as you could, turning towards him.

"I don't see the problem. I told the truth, besides I also stated the fact that he has potenc-"

"Of course everyone for you is weak, Gojo" he knew that when you addressed him by his last name, something was wrong or he fucked something up. "Which doesn't mean that everyone wants to hear about this fact. Do you realize what he's going through?" you asked the question into the ether, after a second adding "Well, yes, of course you don't, you've always been the strongest after all." The stupidity of your statement was killing you. You were able to understand his lack of competence in identifying with those weaker than himself, what you were not able to accept was how he was flaunting it.

"You are not weak." he said this while looking at you intensely.

"And after how long did you find that out? You oppressed me for years. It only changed when I showed you my technique." why do you sound disappointed?

Satoru would be lying if he said that his respect and view of you did not change after you showed him your powers.

"You know the higher-ups don't want to think about letting him go to school, and I don't understand why at this point in time you have to conclude that he is weak."

"Just not this topic, again~ We were already at such a family atmosphere." White-haired growled sighing, squirming in his chair

"What do you mean, I was the one who had to defend him from them again today-" you crossed your arms

"You talk as if I didn't do it myself yesterday" he growled, his voice rising "They keep sending me like an errand dog, on every fucked up mission they can think of, and I do it all without a moment's rest. Today I refused to meet with them, I'm shirking everything I can. I'm sick of listening to old idiots who care about rules that have long since ceased to apply. And! Of course the Zen'in clan has a problem with everything."

"As if your clan was so conciliatory.." you snarked with a wince.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" he indignantly replied.

"I met your mother today and she made it clear that she was 'expecting a grandchild' " you turned quickly to throw things into the pot of boiling water, you could see Satoru grabbing his head "She stated that 'it's my duty as your spouse', it's enough for her that she covered herself in shame when our secret wedding came to light. It surprises me that she is eager to make such statements, not being the head of the clan and still having a problem about what was almost eight years ago."

"Don't worry about it, I'll call her out." Satoru sighed. Despite the fact that you were standing with your back to him now, you could feel his gaze on you.

You needed a break. A break from the curses, the higher-ups, the arguments and the flurry of responsibilities. You knew Satoru needed one too. You stood there in thought, leaning against the countertop and looking at the pot with its boiling contents, when unexpectedly you felt a touch on your waist.

You looked up to see his silhouette pressed against your back. "I'm not the best at words or expressing feelings, as you've become familiar with more than once.." he laid his head on your shoulder "but I don't want you to feel like shit, these last few weeks are probably making you tired too."

Gojo was known for not respecting other people's personal space, this time he used it in a good way. You turned to him and snuggled into his warm torso. He held you in his arms for a few moments, stroking your hair and inhaling the scent of your perfume that he, himself had bought you for Christmas. He casually turned off the cooker, when he decided that what you had thrown into the pot, had cooked.

You didn't even know you needed it. His uniform completely smelled of him, despite the fact that you picked it up from the laundry literally yesterday.

It's funny how much his smell started to be associated with safety for you. Maybe it was because of that one mission where he held you the whole time in his arms when you almost died, or maybe it was just out of habit and years spent with him. You'd swear, you could fall asleep here and forget all your worries.

The sound of your burbling stomach snapped you out of this bliss. You looked at each other, you with an embarrassed face and he with an amused smile.

"It's going to be all right, we'll work something out, as always." he said, kissing you on the forehead. You didn't expect such a gesture from him. He guessed it from your face as he took his hands off your waist, moving away from you and putting his hands back, this time on your shoulders.

"Now let's eat something, you're not the only one who's starving." he said then turned on his heel and headed to his previously occupied seat.

"Find Megumi first, then you'll get your portion." you said and he snorted with laughter "Are you ordering me around?" that smile of his lead you to many things.

"No, I'm giving you a challenge, if you find him quickly your dinner won't get cold." you waved your spoon at him lightly.

His smile only deepened "I can take orders like that every day~" he said then immediately disappeared behind the wall, leaving you alone.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission.

[kaisacobra]

Let You Go - Tara Carpenter

Summary: It's been a while since Tara has seen you. She misses you, but maybe she's broken your relationship to a point beyond repair.

Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of death, angst

Word Count: 7.9k

a/n: thank you so much for the ride guys! Here we have part 3 of second best, which (kind of) ends this trilogy. Of course, I'm still writing the alternate ending so stay tuned if you're interested!

third part of Second Best

It was two in the afternoon when Tara began rummaging through that box she kept at the back of her closet, sorting the contents into "burn" and "don't burn," all in line with what her therapist had advised. She needed to overcome the past, even if in small steps, and what better way to start than by burning traces of when everything started going wrong?

She looked into the box, examining the contents that would survive the purge. To no one's surprise, most of the photos contained you.

Tara reached for a specific photo among the others. A polaroid depicting a hug between the two of you, both with radiant smiles and faces so close that your cheeks touched. Mindy had taken this photo just before you both visited an amusement park that had been in town for a while. Tara's heart throbbed painfully. She missed you. A lot.

The girl sat on the bed with slumped shoulders, clutching the polaroid as if it were a precious possession. She couldn't take her eyes off the image of the two of you, with a happiness and innocence that would soon be ruined by her own actions. With a tired sigh, Tara closed her eyes, remembering her therapist's words.

The initial sessions were slow and unproductive, mainly because Tara kept her guard up and refused to talk much about her life to a stranger. Over time, the man became a pleasant presence, and Tara began to see him as some sort of a grandfather figure trying to advise his granddaughter. That's when she started sharing her problems and actively sought solutions.

"Do you think she'll forgive me?" she remembered asking, looking at her hands with shame. The bright white light in the room made the sweat on her palms stand out on her tan skin.

"Tara..." The man sighed, taking off his glasses as if he was preparing for a battle. "Don't you think you should worry about forgiving yourself first?"

The girl frowned and looked at him as if he were crazy. If anything, she was guilty of not only ruining her own life but also becoming a problem in everyone else's. She had no right to see herself as a victim. "What do you mean?"

"From what you've told me, I've realized you harbor a lot of resentment towards yourself on the inside." He pointed to Tara's chest, and she noticed no hint of judgment in his expression. Still, she felt strangely exposed. "Have you ever really reflected on this internal conflict you feel? About feeling guilty for things beyond your control?"

Tara scoffed and leaned back until her shoulders rested against the chair again, crossing her arms and staring at the walls like a stubborn child avoiding conflicts. "Beyond my control? I was awful to the best person in my life! I let a murderer into our life for-"

"See? You're doing it again." He smiled with a patience that bordered on irritating for the girl, crossing his hands on the glass table that separated them. "I'm not saying you're not at fault for being rude to your friend, but I'd like to focus on your past. That girl's attacks, parental abandonment... You're not to blame for that, Tara, but it doesn't stop you from carrying the pain anyways. Don't you think it affects you?"

She remained silent, but now her head was bowed in embarrassment. Her arms, once crossed, now enveloped her elbows in a half-hug, as if that would protect her from something. Without more exchanging words, the therapist followed the cue and continued speaking in a gentle tone, as if trying to educate a wounded animal.

"Tara, have you ever talked about your concerns with anyone, or have you just kept all these grievances inside until they exploded? Have you ever had any healthy coping mechanism?"

I don't deserve one. That's what she wanted to say, but didn't, because she knew it would make the situation even worse.

"Do you think I don't recognize the signs? Troubled young adult refuses help out of fear of abandonment and ends up driving everyone away, taking the opportunity to take out your emotional wounds on others? You won't be the first or the last person I've seen with this pattern." He spoke as if he could read her thoughts, leaving the girl a little scared.

Sitting up straighter in the chair, Tara turned her gaze back to the therapist, momentarily becoming interested in the conversation again. "Okay, what do I do to end this? What do I do to not be like this anymore?"

Broken, she wanted to say.

The man smiled gently and pulled open a drawer in the wooden cabinet to his left. Tara watched impatiently as he took out a black notebook and placed it on the table between them, looking between her and the object with a certain expectation. "I thought you could start documenting your feelings on paper, instead of keeping them locked within you. I think it can help you in the long run."

"Do you think writing in a journal will make me less of an ass and make y/n forgive me?" Tara replied with a sarcastic tone.

"I think it can influence a change in behavior, yes." The therapist reaffirmed, deliberately ignoring the girl's foul language. "And this exercise is not about y/n; it's about you. How do you expect her to forgive you if you can't do it for yourself?"

As stubborn as Tara was, the words had truly left an impression on her. That's why, on top of her messy desk, was the damn black notebook. The calluses on her hand throbbed with the memory of the force with which she wrote each new entry, trying to release her negative feelings onto paper.

She knew that your name was probably the most repeated word on all the pages, like a sacred mantra that she had to honor. Tara couldn't escape the fact that many of her emotions were so directly intertwined with the idea of you, and honestly, she accepted having to carry that burden as her own Sisyphean stone. She deserved it, after all.

Looking again at the polaroid, she sighed and slowly ran her thumb over the smiling image of your face, almost wishing she could offer you the same affection in person.

She was going to change. She had to change. For you.

_

"That was pretty good!"

The floodlights on the university’s sports field lit up as it began to get dark, allowing the young athletes to continue their training even at night. There weren't many people around, but you could see that the track team seemed to be gearing up to practice for the 100 meters a little to your left.

"Kate, I hit the white part." You grumbled in response to your friend's encouraging words. Kate Bishop had convinced you to attend one of her archery practices to "see her talents firsthand," and at some point, she thought just watching wouldn't be enough, and that you had to experience the sport for yourself.

That's why you were now on the archery training field with her, holding a semi-professional bow that was much heavier than you expected, proving over and over again that you were definitely not a natural at this.

It didn't seem to discourage Kate, however, as the girl still smiled with enthusiasm while looking at your target with a single arrow stuck in it. "At least you hit the target! You're improving; it could be worse."

"True! You could have hit someone's foot, like Miss Bishop did once." One of Kate's teammates, Yelena, commented with a laugh. The two, along with Maya Lopez, made up the Blackmore University women's archery team and were surprisingly good at it, having won all the recent competitions.

You laughed along with the other two while Kate gradually turned redder and assumed a betrayed expression. "Hey!" She protested.

It was amazing how people you had known for such a short time could make you feel so good. You couldn't even remember the last time you had laughed so freely since the incident with Tara happened, and that was already a significant victory for you. It's not like being with Mindy, Chad, Anika, and the others didn't make you happy, but it was hard to enjoy the moments with them when you remembered that, in any other situation, Tara would be there with you too.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and you leaned the tip of the bow on your foot, letting its weight rest on your shoulder so you could reach the device with your hands. Through the lockscreen, you could see a message notification from Mindy, as if she had read your thoughts.

Best Twin: Movie night at the Carpenters' house, are you coming?

Best Twin: Sam misses you

Best Twin: We all do

You sighed deeply and looked at the notification with a grimace, not sure exactly what to do. Of course, you would love to spend time with your friends, and you definitely felt guilty for avoiding Sam by extension, even though she understood the reason. But your palms started to sweat just at the thought of sharing a small space with Tara again.

Mindy had already told you that Tara had started therapy after the encounter you had in some of the university’s corridors some time ago, but she had also said that it was entirely valid if you still didn't feel ready to see Tara after everything.

It was a strange feeling, as if two forces were fighting for dominance within you when it came to Tara. On one hand, just thinking about her made your chest ache. A wave of anger, sadness, and pure humiliation invaded you, and your eyes threatened to well up. What she did to you, what she said to you, marked you like a painful burn that might never stop pulsating.

But on the other hand, you wondered if there were still traces of that other Tara who loved and treated you well. The Tara who made you soup when you were sick and promised never to leave you. Maybe it was your foolishness, but you didn't want to believe that that part of her had simply gone away forever.

"Are you okay?" A soft voice reached your ears and quickly snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to loosen the tight grip with which you had involuntarily held the phone. Looking up, you came face to face with Kate's kind blue eyes, patiently waiting for your response.

Kate Bishop had been an angel in your life, fitting in perfectly at the moment you needed her most. You had met her in the waiting room of the counseling center after spending a week living like a zombie following everything that happened with Tara, and you could barely comprehend that you were sharing the same space with someone like her.

At first glance, Kate Bishop didn't seem like someone who needed to be in a counseling center. She carried herself with confidence, always with impeccable posture and a calm expression on a model-like face. Always dressed in neat clothes that you were sure were designer and carrying a sports bag indicating her athletic background.

But when she approached you and started a conversation, saying she needed to talk to someone or she'd explode with anxiety before her first appointment, you began to realize that Kate might not be what you expected. She was, in fact, much kinder and more attentive than you could have predicted.

You talked a lot that day, and the next day, and the day after, until there came a point where you got along well enough to consider her a friend. Kate listened to everything about your issues with Tara and provided advice and emotional support. In return, you listened to her vent about her problems with a father who died in childhood, a mother imprisoned for fraud, and an inherited company she didn't want to have to run at that age.

They were quite different dilemmas, just as you were quite different people, but still, you felt at ease in her presence, and it was good to have someone who truly noticed you for once in your life.

"Hm? Okay. It's fine, yes, I just..." You searched for words but gave up, opting to speak the truth about what was bothering you. "Mindy invited me to watch movies with the others, and it's at Tara's house, and I didn't want to have to refuse, but I don't know if I'm ready for-"

Kate widened her eyes and raised her hands as if asking for a pause, interrupting your rapid and anxious flow of words. "Woah, hold on, champ. You don't have to go if you don't feel okay. They'll understand."

"Yeah, I know, it's just that..." You sighed, looking down at your feet planted in the field's grass. "I miss them, but... I can't."

As much as it hurt and was embarrassing to admit, you knew it still wasn't the right time. Not when you sometimes still woke up crying in the middle of the night with nightmares involving her.

"Then how about this?" Kate began to suggest, getting closer to you and gently shaking your shoulders. Physical touches had always been her way of offering comfort. "There's a party at my place tonight with some of my childhood friends, and I'm officially inviting you. You can tell your friend that you'll be busy spending time with a very beautiful, charming, and talented company."

You smiled as you let yourself be shaken by the cheerful girl in front of you. "A very humble company, apparently." You teased, poking her ribs playfully. "I don't want to disturb you, but thanks for the invite."

"Disturb? I'd be the one disturbing your illustrious evening by forcing you to hang out with my friends! Believe me, it's torture listening to Peter for 2 hours when he gets excited about his nerd stuff." Kate tried again, and by the way she looked at you with the expression of a begging puppy, you knew there would be no escape. "Please? It'll be nice to have you there."

There were two available possibilities. In the first, you could go back to your dorm, watch a bad movie alone, and spend the rest of the night thinking about how your friends would be having fun, specifically wondering if she would be having fun. In the second, you could take another step in getting rid of your codependent friendship (if it still existed) and enjoy the night with new people and a person who was becoming more and more important to you every day.

If Tara didn't want to be stuck in the past, you also had the right to do that. You deserved it too.

So, you accepted and only remembered to inform Mindy when you were already in the passenger seat of Kate's black Audi RS7.

_

Tara was distraught. Actually, saying that she was distraught was an understatement.

Last night had already started off as garbage from the moment Mindy announced that you wouldn't be coming to see them at the apartment. Sure, she should have expected it, but that didn't mean she didn't have any hope. She couldn't stop thinking about what you might be doing, the reasons why you hadn't come, how everything would have been better if you had.

But mostly, she felt relieved that you hadn't been there, because that meant she hadn't put you in danger again with another ghostface attack. It was a selfish thought. Quinn, her roommate, had died in front of her, Anika had her belly almost cut from end to end and was now in surgery, and all Tara could think about was finding you to see with her own eyes that you were okay.

She urgently searched for your face in the midst of the crowd of students walking through the Blackmore University campus, seeking the slightest fragment of your presence anywhere. She cursed herself again for not being able to just call you like she would if she hadn't messed up and made you block her in practically every possible place.

Finding you and making sure you were okay, in addition to delivering the terrible news, was her obligation. Mindy and Sam were with Anika at the hospital, and Chad had gone to check Ethan's alibi in the damn economics class. She needed to find you.

Fortunately, her prayers seemed to be answered by whatever entity it was. She saw you in the distance, radiant as she hadn't seen you in a long time. Tara's heart skipped a beat, and she opened her own smile after yours. It was bittersweet, the feeling of seeing you so happy but knowing that this happiness would be ruined the moment you laid eyes on her.

In a moment of distraction, a new wave of people passed in front of her, blocking her view of you. Fucking height. She thought with some annoyance as she tried to make her way through the students, trying to get closer to where you were.

When Tara finally managed to locate you again, the scene was quite different from before. Instead of laughing, looking forward, you had your back turned, seemingly struggling while a girl wrapped her arms around your neck. Tara felt a wave of anger rise through her veins and marched in your direction, ready to free you from whoever that crazy bitch was.

The younger Carpenter approached you with a speed she couldn't quite explain, and her motivation only seemed to grow when she noticed that the mysterious girl looked a lot like that senior she had seen with you in the hallway some time ago. Choosing to embrace her negative feelings, she used her strength in a way that would make her sister proud and aggressively pushed the girl away. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Tara?!" You exclaimed in shock, your voice carrying surprise, and your expression wavering between anger, astonishment, and anguish. "What do you think you're doing, are you crazy?!"

Tara saw you getting closer to the girl (Karen, Kendra, she couldn't remember.) and gently placing your hand on her shoulder, as if checking her condition. That small gesture made more anger bubble in her stomach. She wanted to scream, throw a fit, damn, she wanted to destroy something just to get rid of that rotten feeling corroding her from the inside.

But she looked into your eyes and could see a glimpse of the sadness she had caused in the past by this same line of thinking. She couldn't do this to you again, especially because that wasn't even why she had come looking for you. Tara swallowed hard and clenched her fists, deciding to save her frustration to take it out on calluses on her own fingers later.

"She was attacking you," Tara mumbled reluctantly, knowing that the explanation sounded stupid but that she also owed some reasoning for her actions.

You clearly didn't seem satisfied with her motivation, as you only stared at her with a frown and crossed arms. "Kate is a martial arts expert, Tara. She was just showing me how to escape from an arm lock."

Well, how was I supposed to know that? Tara thought, but she decided it was better not to worsen the situation. Before you could ask why she had been clearly looking at you for some time, she decided to explain.

"Look, I'm sorry. There was a ghostface attack in the apartment yesterday, and I just needed to know if you were safe."

"What?! An attack?! How- Are you guys okay?!" You asked exasperated, and Tara saw it. She saw the exact moment when you had to restrain your arms by your sides before doing something you would regret.

Tara remembered that being the first thing you did when you could see her after the surgeries last year. You ran to her on the gurney and held her face with both hands, as if she were fragile. You ran your thumbs over her cheeks, right above the freckles, wanting to make sure nothing was injured. She remembered feeling well cared for and loved.

But that was before she messed everything up. Now, all that was left was that. You restraining yourself from offering your heart to Tara, and she wanting to die realizing the damage she had done between you two.

"Sort of. Anika is in critical condition in the hospital, and... Quinn died." Tara delivered the news with a solemn voice, trying to control her own tears as she remembered what happened. She saw when Kate raised her arm to offer a comforting stroke on your back, and, for the first time, all Tara felt was emptiness knowing she couldn't comfort you in that way.

You let out a few sobs before trying to compose yourself. It was clear that you had been affected by the events, and Tara knew you well enough to know that you would want to go after the others to comfort them. "Which hospital is Anika in? And where are Sam, Mindy, and Chad, I... I need to talk to them."

Tara felt a bit of pride in realizing that she still knew your way of dealing with things, even though she was worried that your priority was always to take care of others' pains. Of course, much of that was her fault, and a knot closed in her throat every time she remembered that fact. "Sam and Mindy are at the hospital waiting for Anika to be discharged. Chad went with Ethan to handle something about an alibi."

"I can take you if you want," Kate offered you  in a chivalry that almost made Tara vomit. "It will be faster if we go by car."

"Or maybe it would be faster for her to take the subway with someone who knows the address, like me." Tara retorted sarcastically, crossing her arms to try to cause, at least, the minimal intimidation to her rival. It didn't seem to be working, which made her even more irritated. "Speaking of addresses, where were you last night, Kate?"

Feeling that the conversation would only escalate, you quickly shook your head. "Stop it, Tara. There's no way Kate could be the ghostface."

"And why not?" The girl asked defensively, with an offended tone almost similar to one she would have if you had accused her. It was frustrating for Tara that you seemed willing to vouch for a person you had barely known. "She suddenly appeared in your life, got so close to you in such a short time, don't you find that a bit suspicious?"

"This might sound a bit surprising to you, Tara, but some people actually like having me around." You retorted with irritation, throwing daggers at the girl with a look so intense that she almost stumbled backward. "Kate can't be ghostface because I spent the whole night with her, okay?"

Suddenly, Tara felt dizzy, with a buzzing in her ears. Apparently, you hadn't had the best problem in overcoming your feelings for her. She felt weird inside, as if something were stuck in her throat. "Oh, I didn't know you guys..."

"No! Not like that, I just..." You widened your eyes and hurried to correct the double meaning of the sentence, waving your hands frantically in a way that made Kate open a smile in amusement beside you. "...I slept at her apartment, but not with her. Not that I owe you an explanation anyway."

Your phone vibrated with a notification, and all three pairs of eyes turned to the device. You quickly checked the message and let out a sigh of relief. "It's Sam. She sent me the address of the hospital; I'm going there now. Without any of you, please."

"Okay. Just be careful, alright? And call me if you need anything." Tara watched reluctantly as Kate pulled you closer by the shoulders and planted a small kiss on your forehead. She swallowed the envy and looked away, trying to think of the last time she had offered you any kind of affection.

You said goodbye to Kate with a warm smile and a hug. For Tara, your lips pressed into a line, and you nodded briefly, almost as if you were greeting a stranger.

She wondered if that's what you two were now.

The Carpenter girl prepared to leave, maybe to find Chad and help him or just take a walk to ease the tornado swirling in her chest. However, she was interrupted by a hand on her arm. Kate Bishop tried to get her attention, wearing a conflicted expression on her face.

"What is it?" Tara grumbled, shaking her arm to free herself from the other girl's touch. She was used to being shorter than most people, but with Kate, it became even more annoying, especially when she had to look down at her.

"Look, I know you don't like me, and, to be honest, I don't like you one bit, but I need you to do something for me," Kate said seriously, putting a hand in her pocket and retrieving an object that Tara could only identify as a car key.

The shorter one scoffed. "Listen, I know Y/N and I are on bad terms, but I don't need you to ask me to take care of her. I'm going to do that anyway because I care about her, believe it or not."

Kate rolled her eyes impatiently. "I know. I can see that in you the same way you can see it in me."

It was true, as much as it bothered Tara to admit. She wasn't blind, and she had enough experience in reading people to know that the way Kate looked at you was sincere, and the girl genuinely cared about you. Putting aside her own jealousy and envy, Tara was relieved to know that there was someone good enough to show these feelings for you. You deserved it, after all.

The girl continued, "This device here is a prototype from my mom’s—my company. It's for security." She raised the object and placed it in Tara's hand, who could now see the details of what she had previously thought was a car key. It was a black oval keychain with a single button in the middle, also black. "I pulled some strings and turned it into an emergency button. As soon as you press it, a signal will be sent to police cars and ambulances, and it will be their priority to get to you. That's one of the advantages of being rich and having contacts, I guess."

Tara turned the button in her hands, feeling the object weigh more now that she knew its function. "And why are you giving this to me and not Y/N?"

"Because I know she would use it on anyone but herself." Kate sighed in frustration. Tara knew it was implied in the sentence that you would use the button for her. "I'm giving it to you because... despite the fighting and you being a jerk..."

"Wow. Thanks for the honesty."

"... I can still see that you care." The taller one finished her sentence without caring about the interruption. She looked between Tara and the button with a bit of uncertainty. "When you press it, a signal will also be sent to my phone, and I'll come running wherever it is."

There were more implicit intentions in that sentence that Tara could pick up. I'll come running to help Y/N. I'll take her away from you. I can protect her better than you can.

Tara just offered a short nod and turned to leave, with the emergency button weighing as much in her pocket as her heart weighed in her chest. Thousands of thoughts filled her head, and all of them were about you and your safety. It was Tara's duty to keep you safe, first because it was her fault that you were even in that situation, and second because she had already hurt you enough.

It was her mission to protect you. To prove to herself that she could still be good for you. To prove to you how much she still cared.

And if she couldn't, if she had to press that button... well...

Maybe it would be the sign she needed to understand that Kate Bishop deserved more of a place in your life than she did.

_

The lobby of the abandoned cinema ironically looked like something straight out of a horror movie that Tara would hate. Dust had piled up in heaps on all surfaces, and the orange lights were so dim that they threatened to go out at any moment.

The others were in the center of the other room, where Richie Kirsch, being the maniac he was, left his extensive collection of items from stab movies and real life ghostfaces. Tara, however, thought it would be a better idea to follow you wherever your feet and lost expression took you, just so she wouldn't have to leave you alone, of course.

You had your back turned to her while leaning on the filthy counter with your elbows. Tara couldn't tell what you were thinking, but obviously, you were not okay, just like everyone else in that situation.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a box of Milk Duds on the other side of the counter that seemed untouched, just a few inches to your left. She approached with light steps, not wanting to make any sudden movements as if that would scare you away, and reached out to bring the box closer. "You like these, right? You can have them if you want."

You didn't respond to the joke, and you didn't even turn around to look at Tara. She felt your indifference like a stab to the chest, but she continued nonetheless. "Or not. This must be like a thousand years old anywa-"

"Tara, shut up." You finally responded sharply, making the younger girl look down in shame. She really needed to get used to your new treatment of her. You ran your hands over your face, covering it as if you were tired.

"Sorry." Tara whispered back weakly. She deserved it, but more than anything, she wanted to be able to offer you some kind of support in that difficult moment, just as you had given her all the support she needed in the past.

You scoffed, in a gesture so hostile that the younger Carpenter almost couldn't believe it came from you. You were still facing away from her, but now slowly taking steps away with tense shoulders. "Did you learn a new word? Didn't know it was in your vocabulary."

Tara felt the anger in your voice, and it made her hands begin to tremble with anxiety. You were right, and it was long overdue for you to know that. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it's too late for this, but I'm sorry for everything I did."

"Do you even care? Seriously, Tara, do you really feel sorry, or do you just miss having some idiot around who would do anything for you?" You retorted, your voice rising even as your vocal cords trembled. A dam had just burst open between you two, and now it was time to deal with the flood.

"Of course, I care, I love you!"

"SHUT UP!" You shouted in response. Tara recoiled from you with a start, startled as she had never seen you raise your voice at anyone. You were still facing away, but Tara could see that, even though you had wrapped yourself in a hug to control your reactions, it wasn't working. Your entire body was tense, as if your brain was struggling to choose between fight or flight, and the result was the tremors that seemed to spread through your system. "You have no right to do this to me! To play with me like this!"

"I'm not lying!" The shorter one retorted, and in an impulsive move, she grabbed you by the shoulder and forced you to turn until your gazes met. Tears were already streaming down your eyes like waterfalls, and your entire face seemed contorted in excruciating pain. Tara wished she could absorb all your hurt for herself. "I know I messed up, but I really love you!"

"You're toxic, Tara! That's what you are!" You shouted back with strength, holding the girl's gaze as if it were a challenge you needed to win. "You hurt me! And I was getting better, damn it, I was getting better away from you!"

"I know you were! I know! That's why I'm apologizing, okay? Because you're the best person I've ever met, and I ruined you like I ruin everyone! Because the best moments I've ever had were with you, and I feel like tearing my eyes out when I remember that I hurt you by being this way!"

"Tara..."

"No! Please let me finish." She rejected your interruption, taking the opportunity to relieve all the pain and guilt she felt inside her. "I'm getting treatment, okay? And I know you're not obligated to forgive me for anything, but I want you to know that I'm trying to be better for you! I'm trying to fix my shit to be someone you and Sam and the others can be proud of!"

"Tara..."

"And I know I hurt you a lot, but please don't doubt the love I feel for you because it's the only good thing left in me. I won't blame you if you never want to see me again, but..."

"TARA, GET DOWN!" You shouted, and before Tara could react, you were already pushing her toward the dusty wooden floor.

Everything was happening too fast for the Carpenter's mind to process. She hit the ground with a grunt of pain and a potential bruise on her arm, but she could see the exact moment when an arm covered in a black cloak descended toward your leg, making a deep cut in your thigh.

You screamed in pain, and Tara screamed next, watching your blood soak through the fabric of your pants and start dripping onto the floor. In a surge of adrenaline, the small girl ran to your side and almost reached for your arm when she was suddenly engulfed in a tight grip, with her two arms pinned to her back and a hand holding a knife to her neck.

She struggled against the masked person holding her, futilely trying to break free to get to you. Tears streamed so quickly down her face that she could taste the saltiness invading her senses. "Let me go! Y/N, run! Please, run!"

A sinister laugh reached her ears like the hiss of a snake. "Oh, Tara. Did you think it would be that easy?"

She recognized that distorted voice with effects all too well. She still heard it in her nightmares, calling her name in the dark. Ghostface was back. "I'm going to kill you, you motherfucker!"

"Oh, but I don't think so." The voice spoke in an amused tone as another killer, wearing the same mask and black cloak, approached your figure on the ground. Tara wailed like a banshee when the other pulled your hair forcefully, forcing you to stand up as he placed a knife on your neck.

She struggled a little more. "Leave her alone!"

"And where's the fun in that?" The ghostface holding her responded, almost as if they were laughing. "Come on, Tara. Weren't you the one who liked to release your anger by hurting Y/N? Why should only you have that privilege? Let's see, where was it that you got stabbed again?"

At the same time, as if reacting to a code, the ghostface holding you advanced in quick and precise movements, gripping you by the waist with one arm while thrusting the knife into you with the other, just above your kidney.

You let out another gasping scream as the blade pierced your skin, and Tara felt your body sagging as if you were about to collapse. She herself wanted to fall to her knees and plead for you to be released, but she couldn't. Whoever was holding her had great strength.

"Don’t you want her to feel the same pain you felt, huh, Tara? Don't want her to suffer what you suffered?" The voice continued to growl in her ear, sounding increasingly excited by the escalating violence. The knife on Tara's neck kept her head in place, so she couldn't look at anything other than your agony.

"No, I don't. Please, PLEASE." Tara pleaded with a tearful voice as another stab was delivered to you, this time in the center of your abdomen. Your shirt gradually turned into a pool of blood, and Tara feared you would faint at any moment.

"Tara..." You could barely pronounce her name, your voice choked and your own blood streaming down your lips. Tara's gaze met yours, and she shivered when you shook your head. She knew what that meant.

You looked feverish. Sweat and blood mingled on your skin, creating the most disturbing of the paintings. Your eyes were vacant, and Tara was so afraid they would close at any moment, never to open again.

And yet, with that nod of your head, Tara understood that your top priority at the moment was to make her understand that it wasn't her fault.

The girl's knees threatened to give up as the knife entered you one, two, three times. She shook her head but couldn't close her eyes because she needed to see you, needed to see that your eyes were still open, that you were still alive.

You couldn't die. You promised not to leave, even if everyone else did. You couldn't die. You couldn't die. You. Couldn't. Die.

"I love you. I'm sorry for loving you, I'm sorry," Tara whispered because she had no strength to speak louder. She felt on the verge of giving up and letting those maniacs do whatever they wanted with her. Nothing mattered anymore if you weren't here, and it was all her fault.

The ghostface holding her laughed with a deep voice. "You know, I could turn this into a Romeo and Juliet scene, but I think it would be more fun to kill you while Sam is watching."

With that, Tara felt her body being thrown backward, and she hit the dirty wooden floor again, this time landing with her head in a wound that would undoubtedly become a concussion.

She got up in a frenzied pace, in an adrenaline rush, thinking she could try to save you now that she was free. But, looking ahead, she realized she was outside the lobby’s door, and the maniac murderer already held the handles. Despite Tara's attempt to advance, the ghostface had already sarcastically waved and locked the doors, creating a deadly separation between you and herself.

Tara pounded on the hard wooden door, ignoring the pain in her knuckles. She hit and hit and hit, feeling cuts open on her skin and burn from the repetitive contact. She was crying, screaming, punching, cursing, doing things she couldn't even rationalize because it didn't matter anymore.

Nothing mattered anymore. Not without you.

She collapsed on the floor, tired, injured, and desperate for you. Her sobs echoed in the seemingly empty hallway, and she was too afraid to put her ear to the door and hear screams of pain like your last breath. Tara felt lost until she remembered that she was no longer trapped.

Rushing to reach the device in her pocket, she sighed in relief to find it unbroken. She pressed the button multiple times without a second thought. If she had a chance to maybe save your life, she would grab it without a doubt.

Tara remembered what she had thought before, how pressing that button might symbolize that she shouldn't be in your life. She stood up and leaned against the wall, trying to rid herself of the wave of nausea, and left the button hidden near the door. If help came following the signal, the first place they would look would be where you were.

If help came and you made it out alive, that was a promise. Tara would finally leave you alone. That's what you deserved.

---

Tara was almost sure she had developed a hospital phobia since the events of last year.

There was no other explanation for why she felt uneasy in that environment, even after they had taken all precautions for her. She still hated the white walls and the smell of chemicals and couldn't wait to get out of there.

For now, she decided to ignore this feeling and continued following Sam through the corridors of fluorescent lighting. It was important for her to stay inside until they finally found the doctor who could tell them what they wanted to know.

She checked her hands again, finding the tanned skin covered in some bandages but free from the mixture of her blood and Ethan's after she... lost control.

After she was separated from you, everything happened so fast that Tara could almost think it was all a delusion. All the revelations, the attacks, her adding another victim to her count, the police arriving... All of that had taken a back seat because nothing was more important than you.

It was as if her life had turned into a black and white movie in the moments she was without you. Everything felt colorless, purposeless. Fortunately, she was pulled out of her own spiral of melancholy when she saw you being taken out of the old movie theater on a stretcher by paramedics. She tried to get closer, but it was needed to give you space so that nothing touched your wounds and caused an infection.

Tara tried to go in the ambulance with you, but she and Sam were pulled for another checkup, and you needed to be rushed to a surgery room urgently if you wanted to have the slightest chance of survival. So, Tara let you go, but there was not a moment when you weren't on her mind.

That's why now, she desperately searched for your surgeon with Sam. No one seemed to know about your condition, and she already felt like tearing her hair out from anxiety. Tara just needed to know if you were at least breathing.

"Dr. Isley?" Sam called the attention of a red-haired doctor who was passing by them in a hurry. Tara sighed in relief that her sister was paying attention to her surroundings because her mind was in a completely different place. "We were informed that you performed emergency surgery on a family member. Her name is Y/n Y/L, admitted with multiple stab wounds."

"Oh, yes. Miss Y/L." The doctor replied in a professional tone, but there was impatiency all over her body language. "It was a difficult surgery, and she lost a lot of blood, but fortunately, no vital organs were hit. I won't lie, the recovery will be painful, but at least she survived the operation without any apparent severe collateral effects."

This was the best news Tara had heard in days. She opened a smile and didn't even try to hide her own happiness as she prolonged the conversation. "Is she in any room? Can we see her?"

"Miss Y/L is in room 604, but I'm afraid only one person is allowed in at a time to avoid any disturbance."

"No problem, we can take turns." Sam pointed between her and her sister. Despite seeming much calmer than the younger one, Tara knew Sam was just as relieved as she was to know that you were still alive.

"No, you didn't understand. There's already someone in Miss Y/L's room." Dr. Isley warned and, seemingly losing the rest of her patience, she began to walk away. "Sorry, but I have other patients to attend to."

The two Carpenter sisters looked at each other alarmed. Who could be in your room? Chad was still in his own surgery, Anika had gone to stay with Mindy while she received some stitches, and frankly, your parents had never been present enough to travel between states so quickly for your sake.

They walked down the corridor, moving as fast as possible without disturbing the other people being treated or working in the area. Tara's heart threatened to jump out of her mouth as she looked from door to door, searching for the numbering of your room. 601. 602. 603.

Tara stopped so abruptly at the door that she and Sam bumped into each other, their sneakers making noise against the shiny white floor. The simple door had a small window through which it was possible to see the inside of the room without necessarily entering. Tara looked inside, ready to break the handle and force her way in if necessary.

But it wasn't, because Tara Carpenter recognized exactly the girl sitting next to your bed, holding your hand gently and stroking your hair, even though you were sleeping. She remembered, with a tightness in her chest, that Kate Bishop would be notified the moment she pressed the button.

And, in her own words, she would come running to take care of you.

"Tara, who-"

"I have to go." Tara interrupted her sister's words, looking at the scene in front of her without blinking. She knew what she had to do; there was no reason to fight the facts.

"What? What do you mean? You just got here." Sam asked, partially annoyed and partially confused by the younger one's actions.

"You heard the doctor. Her recovery will be painful, and if I stay around, all I'll cause is more pain." Tara opened a small smile just to try to pretend that she wasn’t dying inside. She knew Sam could see the truth, that she could see her broken heart and internal conflict, but she also knew that was the only possible solution.

"Tara..."

"Sam, you know I'm right. You told me that yourself a few days ago, remember? I hurt her." The girl shook her head in surrender and took a few steps away from the door. Away from you. "She needs peace, Sam. And the only way she can get that now is if I'm not around."

Tara took one last look inside the room, seeing how peaceful you looked. Sleeping, without any worries, and with an incredible and caring person by your side, ready to help you in whatever you needed.

Someone much better than her.

Perhaps that was the first time Tara had made a selfless decision in a long time, but she didn't feel deserving of any credit for it. What she had to do now was get better. Maybe more entries in her journal and more visits to her therapist would eventually fill the void she felt within her.

For now, she just turned around and started walking away from room 604. Each step hurt, like a razor cutting her skin, but it was the right thing to do. Tara had hurt you for far too long, and now...

Now it was time to let you go.

[threepandas]

Your Biggest Fan: Part 2

-Villian Yandere Izuku-

Did you know his Hero~ was blacklisted at twenty-six different agencies, for publicly calling them out on Quirkist policies they refused to change? The most recent was for blatant mutation Quirk discrimination. The lead hero not only ignored it! He PARTICIPATED! She blasted it EVERYWHERE~

He's going to lose his license.

There are entire CITIES where she's not welcome. Agencies that won't answer her calls. Step after stubborn step, ever forward, as she stands the only thing between the SUFFERING, the WEAK, and the endless SEWAGE that spews and spews their hate! Ah~♡

She's so COOL~♡

Her costume's super practical, you know? She got it designed over seas! You can really see the western influences! They like focus on protection first, THEN Quirk. Instead of the other way around! Not like the Japanese. We also focus on marketability when designing, where as she went into a tax funded Heroics system for her education.

It makes her look INTIMIDATING. Foreign. Vaguely militaristic. Ha ha! As though that's not what Heros ARE! What they have BECOME! But not Her~ oh no, no no no, SHE took their tools and made KINDNESS out of it!

Safe parks to play in! Eco-friendly lighting for roads at night! Donating time and money to old pre-quirk cultural heritage sites. So she can help preserve history and traditions! Because before Quirks? We were still PEOPLE. Our past is IMPORTANT.

Community and kindness, mercy and... and...!

He whines. Squirms in his chair. So cool! SO COOL~♡!

It's so hard to keep his hands to himself. To keep them respectful. He shouldn't-! He CAN'T-! But... ah~ look at how REGAL she looks! And in THIS photo? She looks so soft and kind? Giving a speech to kids~ He wishes it was him. He would listen for HOURS. It'd be amazing.

He bet he could ask SO many questions! And... and she'd answer ALL of them! She'd be so happy to have an active listener. Someone engaged. Attentive. He'd remember ALL her talking points and ask after each one~ They'd talk for HOURS. P-probably get thirsty. She notice the time.

Go "ah, look at the time, Izuku-chan! It's been so long! Getting so LATE! But I still want to talk to you! We should get dinner." And he'd say YES, of course!

He can't resist anymore. The thoughts, his fantasy, too much to endure. His eyes flick from photo to photo. Not enough, not yet, but soon... so they WILL be. He'll get MORE. Right now... right now he needs... ah! There. Graduation. Formal dress.

He can pretend it's a date~♡

All dressed up, just... just to meet HIM! He can barely breath at the thought. The audacity of it. She would NEVER. B..But he could dream, right? No one needs to know. What he IMAGINES. What he thinks about as his hands unbuckle his belt, drag his pants down and open wide.

As he TOUCHES.

Runs hands across his skin, up under his shirt and vest, down and across where he wants it most, like he's EXPLORING. Like he's someone else. Someone with gentle, powerful, hands. His back arches, hips lift, but he refuses to stop his teasing. He wants to be rough. Would want HER to be rough.

She would refuse him.

He... he just KNOWS she would. Would tell him everyone else has been rough enough. Their first time should be gentle~♡ Ah~

She would grind the tip until he couldn't STAND it, just like he is. Listen to him babble and beg. Hips bucking in her grip. Begging her to let him WORSHIP her. To slide to his knees between her legs and never come out. Use his tounge and his fingers to make HER feel good. Make her MELT. Over and over, forever~

Just the thought of it has him spilling into the fist of his hand. All but milking himself dry. It's not enough. His body rides the aftershocks of pleasure and still... drinking in HER, plastered up all around his desk, brought up on his screen, it's not ENOUGH.

He needs audio. Videos. Enough for that high end deep fake program he had made. He... he could make her say ANYTHING. The thought sends a sharp, shuddering, jolt of pleasure through him. He could have SO MANY videos of their dates and... and intimate moments and casual conversations! All before he gets the courage up to TALK to her!

It's perfect~♡

Like a scrapbook of their lives to come! W-well, a FANTASY scrap book... Cool as she is? Busy as she is? She probably doesn't even have TIME to date. And what could a deku like him even OFFER? But... but ah~♡

He can DREAM can't he?

Look out for her, like she looks out for everyone else?

He's her number one FAN! They didn't talk for very long... but he can already TELL. He IS. She's the BEST. And she's gonna be his number one too~

[bullywugprincess]

This is completely random and unrelated to anything but the other day I was watching “isn’t it romantic”, an episode from Season 2 of golden girls where they have a lesbian character, and while I think the fact it was a single episode with a token lesbian to push the message that being a queer woman isn’t a bad thing is something that not as relevant to contemporary audiences, it amazes me that it’s honestly aged better than your average 2000s/early 2010 lesbian rep.

The most hated thing about 2000s lesbian rep is the “predatory lesbian” troupe. Think Cynthia-Rose Adams from pitch perfect chasing the other girl around while everyone is freaking out while she runs from her and blows her rape whistle, or Nicky Nicole’s and Big Boo from Orange is the New Black (I am saying this as an OITNB fan who loves these characters). Jean is presented as a sweet, harmless, caring woman who actively avoids doing anything that would make the other women uncomfortable, for example when Dorothy says they’ll share a bed because there isn’t enough rooms she instantly offers to sleep on the sofa, and when she ends up having to share a room with rose she admits her feelings for her before getting into the bed with her, and upon not getting a response decides to sleep on roses chaise lounge instead. She also decides to leave once she realises she’s developed feelings for rose, but when they discuss it rose isn’t afraid of her in the slightest and says she is fine with her staying unless Jean feels friendship alone with rose isn’t something she can live with, to which Jean responds that she would happily just be friends with rose.

There is also zero fetishisation from men, in fact I don’t think we see a man the whole episode. Not saying any lesbian movies should write off men, but it’s so refreshing to see lesbian portrayal completely removed from the male gaze.

A small thing but something else I liked- Dorothy admits she didn’t know if Rose would know what a lesbian was and she simply responded “well I could have looked it up!”, and when her and Jean discuss it she admits she doesn’t fully understand jeans feelings, but she recognises that she feels that way and that’s ok- PEOPLE WHO DONT KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT PRONOUNS AND DIFFERENT OR NEWER LABELS TAKE NOTES! You can simply google what something means and respect it without needing to know the nuisances!

I just think it’s wonderful how a show from 1986 made by and catered towards more middle aged/older watchers can beat modern shows with a younger target audience, and it really goes to show that having an open mind and simply accepting others means a lot more than being overly educated on such matters. Love golden girls

[hwanchaesong]

"Hardcore"

SugarDaddy!Jongho X F!Reader 

Synopsis: Bodies under the sheets, buddies over the streets

genre & warnings: fluff, angst, smut, cursing, drinking, kind of like forbidden love, university setting, cheating (i do not condone this), friendly banters, oral (m&f rec), unprotected sex, dirty talking, mentions of other sexual activities and hints of public sex, petnames, TXT Beomgyu's special appearance, etc etc mdni!

word count: 7.5k

/ATEEZ Sugar Daddy Oneshots Masterlist/

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

"I just saw an insect fly inside your mouth."

You yelped and pursed your lips, turning around in your seat to glare at the boy who spoke behind you, a teasing grin on his face as he proceeded to sit beside you.

"Hello to you too, Beomgyu." you rolled your eyes and continued eating your lunch while your friend laughed at your lack of usual defensiveness whenever he points out your dumb countenance.

He went and picked one of the fries on your plate, your protests falling on deaf ears, "You should give me your food and eat his bulky ass instead." he says, subtly pointing at the man that you were previously gawking at.

Another comment from him that made your blood pressure spike.

"Don't you ever shut up?" you slapped his hand away from your tray, "And no, I will not do that, you dipshit."

Beomgyu raised his hands in defeat, feigned concern gracing his annoyingly charming face, "I was tryna help you."

"What do you want?" you groaned, looking at him and inquiring what his deal is, and like a lightbulb turned on in his head, he finally blurted out a news that you'll surely dread.

"I wanna inform you that we have swimming lessons for PE today." he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at you, hinting at something which you immediately understood.

This is seriously not happening right now.

Your eyes naturally trailed over to the guy that you're currently interested in, chatting away with the science teacher (Lee Chan) on their table, which conveniently is your physical education teacher.

The previous one was a girl, but she had to take a leave from teaching for a while due to her pregnancy. Then your school just had to hire a hot dude for a substitute.

Choi fucking Jongho.

You weren't interested at first, but he sure as hell caught your attention when one day, he walked in on the gym wearing the tightest short that you had seen a man wear.

His thigh muscles are bulging, threatening to rip the flimsy fabric and you have to mentally kick yourself for staring.

That was the first one.

Strike two happened when a boring discussion about hand grip turned into him breaking an apple in half, a thought running in your mind that made you realize that you're doomed.

"I wish I was that apple."

You want to be that piece of juicy, red fruit just to be what? To be broken in half by his large hands?

Well damn, you're nuts for that one.

It should have been fine, you thinking of that way of your teacher. It's a small fantasy that you could live in for a while and get over it when the time comes.

It should be fine.. but your stupid self just had to say that out loud. Good thing that the whole class was roaring at your teacher's inhumane strength. Too bad, your seatmate slash best friend heard you clearly, and now, he has an item for blackmail against you.

"Whatever," you mumbled, munching on your sandwich, "it's not like we'll be standing close to each other during the whole period."

Beomgyu smiled once more, seeing right through your nonchalant attitude, "You'll never know what will happen."

Yes, you don't know what will happen unless fate or some fucking fairy guided you into some shit. But this-

This! So damn horrendous.

You see, whenever you wish for luck to come to you, it never does, and that's fine! But.. why the fuck do you have to be so unfortunate?

Like, truly miserable as your puppy eyes went down the drain when your sucker of a bestfriend gave you a thumbs up and mouthed the most inappropriate sentence you had ever encountered (you're just dramatic.)

'Go get the apple of your dreams!'

Oh, he's so dead later for putting you into this position. Later because right now, you're currently rummaging through your brain on how to survive the next (possibly the best) events of your life.

"I'm sorry for dragging you here, Ms. L/N." Jongho's voice brought you out of your inner dilemma, making you realize that you're still here, rooted on earth and standing in front of your whole class for the damned swimming classes.

You ain't a good swimmer, but to hell with Beomgyu because the guy pushed you as the offering for the person who wants to try and act as the lead model for the swimming classes.

"No problem, sir." you gave him a tight lipped smile, inhaling through your nose and trying to keep your crazy heart rate steady.

"Thank you." he smiled back, putting his attention back to the class and resuming his discussion about the proper way to dive.

"So here, put your arms in position-"

The instructor began discussing, but you couldn't focus for gods sake.

He's touching your shoulders. His hands are on your back and oh! His fingers guiding your head to tuck your chin. This is absolute heaven and hell at the same time.

Your muscles are all tense from his magnetizing touch, enjoying all of the sensations you're feeling and you are so close to fluttering your eyelids and just let your body drown in sins when suddenly, and annoyingly, you were brought back once more into reality by Jongho.

"Please do the dive for us, Ms. L/N." he gently pushed you, giving you an encouraging smile to which you could only subtly grimace at.

Here goes nothing.

You closed your eyes, held your breath and prayed, wishing for you to look like a mermaid when you enter the water. (Spoiler alert, you looked like a dying fish according to Beomgyu.)

You did your best, as you liked to think, and you really did feel like on top of the earth when Jongho himself went over to you after classes and draped a towel all over you, giving your shoulders a warm squeeze as he complimented you for your performance today.

"Great job out there, make sure to dry yourself completely so you won't get sick, yeah?" then he smiled, walking away from you before he saw your blushing face while stammering out a proper response.

He touched you. Again. Heck, he even commended you.

And he smiled at you. Again. That's like, three times now? Yeah? Right.

Oh man, looks like you're gonna go home with some delulu thoughts.. and with a wet something down there.

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

"You like that baby?" his deep voice resonated in your ears, his chest vibrating against your back as he pounded into your behind like you are nothing but his fuck toy.

You moaned at the feeling of his girth inside you, not satisfied with your lack of response, he went and pulled your hair, earning himself a delightful yelp from you.

"I asked you a question, doll."

"Y-yes, sir." you uttered a response, scalp stinging from his hair pulling but the sensation still managed to add to the pleasure.

"That's my good doll." he smirked, his thrusts getting erratic each second. "Since you're so good, I'll let you take all my cum inside, yeah?"

"Oh god-" you moaned out loud, loving the way he talks dirty to you, "Yes, please.. I-I want it all." you begged, tears already pooling at the corner of your eyes.

"Fuck-! I'm coming!"

"Jong-"

Three knocks and a yelling Beomgyu was all it took for your dream to be taken away. Right at the fucking climax.

"C'mon Y/N! Open up, stop sleeping all the time!"

"Ugh!" you groaned, jolting up with anger and shouting right back at the boy in front of your bedroom door.

"Why the fuck are you here?!"

Beomgyu snickers and invites himself into your sanctuary as soon as you opened your door, sitting on your spotless pink carpet and bringing some snacks and a suspicious piece of paper.

You raised an eyebrow, still slightly irritated that your wet dream was disrupted but curious at what storm your friend is brewing.

"Look." he says, showing you a poster along with tickets, "A guy named Yeonjun gave me this!"

"What the fuck is that and who the hell is Yeonjun?"

"A nice senior that I met in the frat!" he happily answered your questions despite the rude tone that you used. "Let's go and check this bar, I heard that they serve a lot of good shit."

"No thanks." you sassily replied, walking over your bed and sitting down on the soft sheets.

He rolled his eyes at your snappy attitude, plopping down on your bed as well, "Don't be such a killjoy!" he whined, "Besides, don't you want to find a hot guy and get laid? I know you haven't gotten a good fuck for like... I don't know? Months?"

You paused, contemplating the offer because yes.

It has been a while since you went out and had some fun. Maybe, you can blame it on that fact, that it was the reason why you're so frustrated.

Why you think and dream about him a lot.

Maybe, you do deserve a little treat after all the hard work that you're exerting for college.

"You actually made sense," you stood up and pat Beomgyu's fluffy hair, "that's nice."

He pouts and swats your hand away, "So, you in?" he excitedly asked.

"Yeah." you let out a little laugh at his childish antics when you finally agreed, pumping his fist in the air with a 'whoosh' coming out of his mouth, "It's a good way to let out some steam."

That is how you found yourself in your skimpiest outfit and hottest hair and make-up you could manage, dancing in some club named Hybe.

The place is classy to be honest. Glaring lights of different spectrum that shines through the mosaic tiles, blaring music from the most popular djs out there, and the fucking fancy drinks that they serve.

Yeah, you could let out some steam, like Beomgyu said.

But how do you do that exactly?

You sighed and excused yourself from the man that you're grinding with on the dance floor, giving some lame excuse of running out of social battery, to which he returned with a genuine smile and telling you to rest.

'What a good boy.' you think, returning to your booth and sitting down with a sigh before gulping down a glass of cocktail, eyes scanning the area with dismay.

Maybe this is a mistake, you couldn't get him out of your head and no matter how many handsome men come your way, they do not turn you on like how he does.

You groaned, burying your face on your hand when an eerily familiar voice resonated from behind you.

"Now, why is a gorgeous lady like you is alone?"

You turned around, eyes blinking slowly like a sleepy cat because surely, this is a dream. Right? Because how come that the Choi Jongho himself, is standing in front of you in all of his sexy glory.

"Oh." you both said at the same time, an awkward silence ensued that he broke himself.

"I.. uh, okay I'm sorry I didn't know."

A hobbling reason on his part but it is true.

In his defense, Jongho doesn't have any idea that it was you, he couldn't see your face directly because of the dim lighting, but he sure as hell can see your sexy as fuck figure that has been dancing away in the club for a few hours now.

He was so, so enamored that he thought, 'Hey, maybe I should go talk to her and get some good fuck tonight.' when he saw you walk back to your table.

He did not expect a familiar face to pop up, nonetheless, his student.

A student that he had been crushing on ever since he saw the way your boobs jiggle during a volleyball class. Or the way your ass looks great when doing the squats. Or your hot skin on his palms during the swimming lessons.

Still, he knows it's wrong for him to make a move on you, his moral compass going strong and the rational part of him kicks him in the shin when he sees your surprised face at his attempt at flirting.

He was about to go back after apologizing, really, but you just had to cripple his remaining sanity.

"Wait!" you unconsciously called out for him when he was about to leave, clutching the cuff of his suit and you paused, closing your eyes and praying to the gods out there to split open the floor right now and swallow you whole.

What the fuck are you doing? Damn, what will he think of you now?

Some kind of desperate slut?

"Yes?" he turned back around, an inquiring look on his face that made you think that maybe, just maybe, you could bag him, even just for tonight.

Yeah, you are a desperate slut. Only for him, though.

"You could.. stay?" you mumbled, wincing at how timid you sounded.

"What? Didn't quite catch that." he leaned down to better hear you, allowing you to inhale his manly, musky scent.

"I, uh.. uhm. I said, you could stay." you repeated, voice louder than before but for some reason, he still couldn't hear it.

"C'mon princess, speak up. Can't hear what you're tryna say."

What a menace. He did hear you perfectly and clearly, he just wants you to say it again. With more clarity, with more confidence. He kind of wants you to beg.

"Stay." you finally blurted out, finding some conviction when he called you princess, because who on earth would do that? It kind of gave you the impression that he is testing the waters with you, like an interim check whether he could spend the remaining time of his night with you.

"Please." you added, releasing his cuff with a sigh that you didn't know you were holding.

He smirked, breaking the nonchalant countenance and taking a seat beside you, his arm automatically flying on your shoulders, pulling you close to him.

"That wasn't so hard now, is it?" he whispered against your ear, his hot breath in contrast with the cold atmosphere in the club tickled you just enough to leave goosebumps on your skin. Before you could retort, he removed his arm, placing it on the table and waving a waiter to serve more alcohol.

You tried to hide your disappointment at the loss of contact, humming of approval when he asked you if you wanted to drink more.

Soon, you find yourself in a buzzing state, hazy mind, lips numb and swollen from the constant biting of the man you're with.

"God, you don't know how long I've been wanting to do this." he panted against your mouth, his rough hand squeezing your breasts through your thin dress.

"Jongho." you whined, lifting your back from the mattress, "Tell me then, how long?" you taunted, brushing your nose with his.

"Ever since I saw you." he admitted, peppering your face with butterfly kisses, trailing down your neck and attacking your sweet spot once he heard you moan from the surprise contact.

Your hands flew to his hair, "Tell me more."

Jongho groaned, loving how submissive yet demanding you are.

"I wanted to kiss you." he punctuated it with a peck, "Then I wanted to touch you." he continued, deft fingers trailing down your body until he reached your bottom, cupping your heat in his large hand, "Then I wanted to take you as mine. Claim you," his hand went inside your dress, pinching your inner thigh that made you squeak, "fuck you until you're crying."

If there is one thing that you're wishing for right now is that for time to stop. You don't want this night to end.

The man that you're pining since the start of the semester is basically confessing his desire for you, and you sure as hell is eating all that up. You didn't have to know whether his words were true or not, because you'll stupidly believe him. It shows how much you like him.

No need to worry though, everything that he's saying is the realest, deepest feelings and thoughts of you.

Jongho had already noticed you from the start. The way you talk politely, the hidden sass that only shows when you're bickering with your friends, your effort and dedication in your chosen course (which he really admires). And of course, the way you look at him like you wanted him to break you.

He saw it all, he felt it all.

And he loved it.

He loved the attention from you.

Who wouldn't? Anyone would be lucky to have you. The popular, intelligent, kind and pretty girl of the university.

But you didn't have to know such details on why he's so charmed by you. What's important is that you are on his bed, and that he's about to rock your world.

"Do it." you said with finality, gripping his hair to stare right into his eyes, "Do whatever you want to me."

That was all it took for him to go feral, ripping your dress (no bra, to his delight) and delving right into your soft chest. Your protests fell on deaf ears, because you really liked that dress, but then you couldn't complain anymore when he reassured you that he'll just buy you a new, better one.

You moan when he bites between the valley of your breast, groping your right mound while he busied his mouth with sucking on your nipple.

You are hyper aware of his electrifying touch. You feel everything. From his tongue flicking on your bud, the tugging of his fingers on your nipple, and the slithering hand down your navel that reached your panties.

"What's this?" he mumbles against your boobs, circling his fingers on the wet patch of the flimsy fabric, "Didn't take you for a lace girl." he snickers, making you slap his shoulders.

"Shut up." you whine, then you realize that he's still completely clothed. "Shut up and remove this." you ordered,  pulling the silk tie of his expensive looking suit.

"Aren't you a feisty one?" he raised an eyebrow, lifting himself from you when he felt like he's left enough marks on your chest area.

"I like that attitude," he says, removing the tie from his neck, "but I don't tolerate it, especially if my doll knows that she's not the one in charge here, yes?"

You gasped when he clutched your tiny wrists using only one hand, binding your hands together using the tie and connecting it to the bed post, rendering you immovable.

"Wha-!" you tried protesting, but he shushed you once more by pushing your panties inside your mouth.

Since when did he remove your underwear?

"Chin up, princess. Watch the show." he speaks in a deep, dark voice. Basically imploring you to glue your eyes on him as he started stripping himself.

He unbuttons his crisp, dress shirt sensually, sliding the clothing to his shoulders and my god, were you blown away.

You do know that he's sculpted, given that his muscles are almost always bulging from his outfits back at school, but to see him in this natural state of bareness registered something in you... he is ripped as fuck.

"Hngg." you twisted around the bed, trying to free yourself from the restraints to no avail. You wanted to touch him, make contact with his skin because watching is not enough. You need to feel him on your palm.

"What," he chuckles, tossing his shirt somewhere in the room and continues his mini strip show, "wanna have a taste of this?" he jeered, reaching for his belt and unfastening it too slowly for your liking.

You nodded your head fervently, batting your eyelashes at him in an attempt to make him give in and let you do as you please. He shook his head, removing his pants and undergarments in one go before proceeding to grab your jaw, not giving you a second to fully admire his naked body.. or his ginormous length.

"I did remember telling you to be patient, princess." he snickers at your fallen expression when you realize that you wouldn't be able to touch him as soon as possible, "Let's make a deal, yeah?"

Your eyes lightened up with hope, and in his point of view, you're so damn adorable despite the humiliating position that you're in.

"If you don't cum within five minutes of me eating you out," he finally utters, slotting himself in between your legs and dipping his fingers into your core, taking a swift sniff of how good you smell, "then you'll be free."

You gulped, not having enough conviction that you won't cum in five minutes because it's been too long. It's been a while since a man touched you, and you're afraid that one swipe of his tongue will immediately edge you. But for fucks sake, you have to try in order to get what you want.

You nodded again, making eye contact with him with determination, a proud smile on his face before going down town on you without much of a warning. Giving your sopping core a long lick, easily finding your bundle of nerves and sucking on it.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself not to cum. You tell yourself not to give in, even if his tongue traces all the shapes in your clit, even if his wet appendage goes deep into your cunt, even if the slurping noises are making you crazy.

"Ah fuck this." he cursed, inserting two of his fingers inside and curling them mercilessly, hitting all the right spots.

"Go ahead and cum, princess. Lemme taste you." he mumbles against your clit, sending nice vibrations that add to the pleasure, "Don't worry, I'll remove the tie later." he convinces you, not wanting to do the deal anymore because you're too irresistible. Giving oral like a madman is not sufficient, he needed to feel your insides as well, to give him an idea on how tight you are.

"Cum on my tongue, baby."

You writhed around the mattress, gushing around his tongue and fingers. Complaining when he didn't stop swiping his tongue on your pussy, the overstimulation getting to you.

"Sorry, sorry. Here let me." he laughs, showing his gummy smile that doesn't match the situation but still, the lights outside the house that shines through the window were adequate to let you see his amazing visuals.

He untied your wrists and got rid of the gag, giving you an apologetic smile as he rubs your red skin, probably from the harsh pulling that you did. "Got carried away." he explains, making you giggle at his sudden cute attitude, leaning up and giving him a quick peck.

"It's okay." you say, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on you, "Besides, we have better things to do." pushing the innuendo behind your sentence by lifting your hips, grinding against his hardness.

He hissed at the sensation, "You really do know how to rile me up." he smirks, finally positioning himself, sliding his cock in between your folds to gather some slick, "Hope you don't regret this in the morning."

You rolled your eyes, "Oh, I won- Ah!" you wailed when he went inside you in one go, immediately thrusting in an animalistic pace without letting you adjust first.

He hits the right spot when he shifts his hips a bit, the tip of his cock brushing on your g-spot so perfectly, "Oh god! Right there! Jong-" he cuts you off again, sliding his hand on your neck and choking you, shaking his head in disappointment.

"That's not how you should call me, Ms. L/N." he whispers in your ear in a condescending tone, and in a state of lust with the pressure of his hand on your neck, everything that is happening around you seems to arouse you more.

"S-sir," you panted, your nails scratching his back when he slowed down his pace, waiting for you to finish your sentence, "please don't slow down. Fuck me harder."

Jongho took a deep breath, how could he even resist you and say no when you're this pretty under him?

"That's my good girl." he grunts, pistoning inside you and holding your hips in a bruising grip, your angelic moans motivates him to do more.

The embarrassing loud squelches and skin slapping from where the both of you are connected echoed through your ears, stupefying you even more from the lewdness that surrounds the four corners of the room. Each thrust of his hits the perfect spot inside you, and your sensitivity makes you feel even the prominent vein on his thick length.

You chanted his name, Sir Jongho, as he liked to be called, signalling him that you're close, as if you, clenching around his cock still isn't enough to give him the sign.

"Close?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration, sweat falling from his forehead down to your cheeks, further pounding into you with much force if that's even possible when you gave him the green light, not having the proper ability to speak.

"Go ahead, baby. Cum." he egged you on, leaning down to suck on your neck while his hand went to your clit and rubbed it harshly, pushing his cock back and forth with vigor, making it his mission to turn you into a mess.

"God, Jongho!" you howled, cupping his face and kissing him deeply, and that's what made you cum, the intimacy of the contact. Your lips on his in a chaotic, open mouthed kiss where your teeth clashed and tongued meshed around with each other.

He groaned against your mouth, releasing his seeds in your gummy walls when he felt your insides wrap around him tightly. As much as he wanted to prolong the intercourse, the pleasure was too much to handle.

That's how good you felt, he guesses.

A few minutes of silence, with only your heavy breathings can be heard passed, coming down from your highs. You felt his weight on you, but you were too spent to care. His warmth lulls you into dreamland, then everything is black.

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

You stirred around the bed, feeling icky and sore, and when you went to hug what you assumed was a pillow, you were mortified.

Since when did your pillow, an inanimate object, have the capacity to hug you back?

You slowly open your eyes, seeing a different ceiling, and surely this is not the scent that you are accustomed to.

Again, since when did your room smelled like wood and spices? You recalled it, crystal clear, that cherry blossoms and vanilla are your go to scents.

Then you hear someone's breathing, the mortifying reality draws near when you decided to turn your head from the figure beside you.

Shit.

You bit your lip, panicking but you ultimately opted to be rational for once in your life, trying to calm yourself and rethink what the heck happened last night.

You remember begging him to stay with you at the booth, drinking shot after shot until you were wasted out of your mind.

"Alright, I think we need to get you home." Jongho chuckles, stopping you from downing the cocktail. Sensing that you had enough alcohol for the night.

"Noo!" you whined, reaching for the glass in his hand, "And I don't wanna go home yet!" you cried out, clinging into his arm.

Who knew you were this childish when you're drunk, he ain't complaining though, Jongho thinks that you're like a lovely, sweet piece of candy in this state.

"Come on, princess." dropping a wad of cash on the table (payment and tip) and helping you get up.

It was bearable for the most part, you were like a feather in his arms, light and airy, but the hardest part of the short journey to his car was your incessant mewling and your very obvious actions of seducing him.

"Oh wow!" you exclaimed, drunkenly looking around his luxurious vehicle, "You're fucking rich." you tittered at the newfound information, touching the leather covering of the seat, "You're hot, handsome, sexy, and rich? What a catch."

Jongho's posture stiffened, avoiding your sultry gaze by taking a deep breath to calm his libido down, inserting his keys and getting ready to drive.

"Thanks." he says without much emotion, "Now tell me your address so you can rest."

"Ugh." you rolled your eyes, leaning over to his side and you didn't miss the way he ogled at your exposed legs and cleavage, "I told you I don't wanna go home yet."

"Then what do you want to do?" he sighs, running a hand through his hair (which you find really attractive), exasperated at the situation. Seriously, you're making this difficult for him.

You gripped his face and forced him to look at you, his eyes widening at your daring initiative to make a move on him. His adam apple moved when he took a gulp, and that made you fancy him more.

"I want to kiss you," you admitted, hands moving down to his chest, his eyes wandering on your lips, "then I want you to fuck me like you mean it."

There goes his sanity, crashing his mouth on top of yours in a heated lip lock, lifting you up easily and placing you on his lap. Despite the cramped space, you two managed to fit, and it only made the scene hotter.

"Let's continue this at my place, yeah?" he asked, moving away from you and returning to his previous position in the driver's seat.

You were in Choi Jongho's car. You made out with him. He took you to his place. You fucked each other... and now you wanted to slap yourself because of your stupidity. How could you even let yourself make a mistake, goodness, you really need to control your horny ass.

Then you made up your mind, yep. You'll escape then act like nothing happened. Yeah, that's a great idea! Genius.

You moved like a turtle, attempting to wiggle away but you were stopped by his strong arms, pulling you flush on his chest.

"Finally you're awake." his gruff voice in the morning stirred something inside you and for the second time, you had to remind yourself to not let your hormones dictate your actions.

"I'm sorry!" you don't know what you're apologizing for, but you do know that whatever you did and said last night was inappropriate, given that he was the one who talked to you first, it was you who persuaded him to have sex with you.

"I'll leave for now then I will pay for the drinks last n-" he puts a finger on your lips, shushing you as he puts a strand of your stray hair behind your ear.

"Don't worry, I'll pay for your drinks at the bar from now on. I'll even let you do your fantasies on me. Just do me a favor angel," you stared into his orbs, sleepy yet warm, "keep this between us."

And that is how you find yourself every weekend on the bar (that he, surprisingly, owns), wearing the dresses he bought you, drinking free alcoholic beverages and at the end of it all, your limbs are entangled with his. Passionate 'lovemaking' as he liked to call it.

You love the thrill of this forbidden romance.

Sneaking kisses behind closed doors, hugging each other goodbye whenever he insists to drives you home, sucking him under the table while he did his best to talk to a student that needs his help, then fucking you on the said table, right on top of the papers he's checking.

He made you happy, and you know you make him happy as well, you can see it in his eyes. But it was more evident on you, as Beomgyu pointed out how 'bright' you are that the shift kind of scares him.

You only brushed it off with a smile, telling him that you're only taking care of yourself. Even if you badly want to tell him the whole story, you suppressed it, keeping your promise with Jongho intact as to not ruin both of your reputations. Besides, only a few months left before your original PE teacher returns, then you can let loose. Announce the blossoming relationship with Jongho without any care in the world.

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

"No."

One word. It only took him one word to stain your proposal and plant a seed of doubt in your brain.

"What?" you scoffed, crossing your arms in disbelief, "What do you mean no? Are you ashamed of me?" you accused, hurt at his blatant rejection at the idea of becoming official after his contract in your university.

"No, of course not baby, listen to me," he cupped your face gently, "I'm sorry, we'll talk about this tomorrow, alright? I'm kind of stressed right now because of all the work." he smiles, giving the crown of your head a peck.

You sighed and held his hands that are still on your face, rubbing your thumb on his skin, "Okay." you resigned, trusting him with all your heart.

Come next day and everything shattered. Your trust, your heart, your world.. cluttered on his palms.

You were casually humming a tune you've heard on spotify, a pep in your steps as you walked leisurely to Jongho's office, ready to continue the conversation with him from yesterday.

Then you were frozen in your position as you heard the topic from the principal's office by accident. You weren't a nosy person, but hearing his name sparked a troubling curiosity within you.

"Mr. Choi, we really appreciate you. I was even thinking of making you a regular here." your principal speaks, but his next words brought a ringing sound in your ears, messing with you, mentally and emotionally.

"Too bad, you're about to be married soon, and abroad too!"

You heard Jongho chuckle, but that's not all, a honeyed voice laughed as well. A woman's voice.

You couldn't help but take a peek inside, and there he was, the man that you have feelings for, with a girl beside him.

A prettier, sexier, older girl. Someone who looks like she got her shit together.

Someone who is better than you in all aspects.

"Actually, me and my fiancé thought of getting married here," the lady placed her hand on Jongho's chest, leaning her head on his left shoulder, "but he insisted on getting married in Paris! Isn't he a romantic one?"

She giggled like a goddamned witch (that's all in your head because right now, you're full of hatred), and then, at that moment, the puzzle pieces fell into place.

Why he wanted to keep your relationship a secret.

Why wasn't he keen on taking the title as your boyfriend.

Because you are not the main, not the original, you are the other girl.

The other girl that everyone despised. The one that you read on tiktok and stories, the home wrecker.

On this occasion, you kind of also loathed yourself. Only there to make him satisfied, to keep him company. You're convenient, but right now, you're thrown out of the picture because his one and only is here.

You've had enough of this bullshit.

You were about to turn around, ready to drown yourself in sadness and self-pity, but then you made eye contact with him. His eyes widened, dread obvious in his features. Despite the tears making your eyes glassy, you willed yourself to stand up against his betrayal, giving him a hard glare as if telling him, 'I hope you're happy, you traitor, don't show yourself in front of me ever again.'

Then you walked away, your back straightened and with your chin up. Certainly, you are not about to ruin yourself, not like this.

On the other hand, Jongho was quick to excuse himself from the meeting, giving some lame excuse and running after you, seeing you walking down an empty hallway.

'Perfect.' he thought, speeding towards your direction, catching you by your wrist and turning you around so suddenly that it gave you a whiplash. Upon meeting his worried face, you immediately pushed him away, the anger in your face that once held love for him squeezed at his heart.

"Y/N, let me explain. I-"

"Shut the fuck up." you rudely cut him off, balling your fist on your sides to prevent yourself from doing something that you'll regret.

"Please, give me a chance to explain." he pleads, but the more you hear his voice, the more it makes you feel worse.

Honestly, you just want to go home and cry. Pathetic, definitely, but you couldn't care less, you had to get these negative feelings out of your system.

"Didn't you hear me?" your voice shakes, but you continue regardless, you are about to give him a piece of your mind.

"I said shut up. It's not worth it, you're not worth it."

A look of hurt flashed on his visage and it somehow sparked something in your pride because that's good, you want your words to pierce through him like a knife. You want to give him pain as well.

"Don't say that, Y/N, I-" he starts bargaining again, to which you blocked again with a sarcastic laugh.

"Oh, I'll say what I want to say. Don't tell me what to do, Sir Jongho." you specifically emphasized the petname that you would usually use inside the bedroom to give him  a sense of what he had done.

"Will you please just let me say something?!" he whisper yelled, frustrated at your attitude.

You raised an eyebrow, the audacity of this man to act like a hotshot when he's the one in the wrong here.

"The floor's all yours then. Talk." you challenged him, only for him to turn silent, gaping like a fish in front of you because really, he went here without any prior thoughts.

"What are you waiting for?!" you yelled, raising your hands in defeat, worn out from this dumb confrontation.

What is he even gonna say though?

That he's sorry you caught him? He's sorry for hurting you and all that shit.

He knew what he was doing, he's not a kid, but he went through it all for the sake of adventure. You are a territory he trespassed, and he's about to pay the consequences.

"I really did like you. This," he pointed between you and him, "it's real."

He hung his head low, not having it in him to face you.

Real your ass.

"You like me?" you asked, hating the way he earnestly nodded his head, "If you really did like me, then you wouldn't make me do this." you stepped towards his figure, the eerily calm tone you're using doesn't sit well with him.

"If you like me, then you would've been honest with me." you jarringly shoved him.

"If you like me, then you should have not given me any hope that I have a chance with you."

Another shove.

"If you like me, then why the fuck do you have to put me in this position?!" you sobbed, giving him a last miserable shove. He accepted all of it, unmoving on his spot on the floor, watching you break down.

"You like me... but you love her. Right?"

"I do."

Well, that was a slap on your face. Of course he loves her, enough to break your heart. Enough to not choose you.

"Y/N, I'm truly sorry."

"No, you're not." you looked at him one last time, "Being guilty doesn't mean that you're sorry."

Then you're gone, leaving him in the hallway while he's having an internal battle with himself.

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

"Dude , what the fuck?" Beomgyu scrunches his nose, watching you mope around for the past few weeks. He picked up a used shirt from your floor, grimacing when something sticky adhered on his fingers.

"Go away." your muffled voice sounded from under your sheets, making him sigh in defeat and sitting down on your bed. He sets his hand on your foot that was sticking out of your blanket, giving it a tender massage.

"You know, you need to help yourself in order to move on." his soothing tone smoothens the scowl on your features, lifting your blanket from your body and facing your bestfriend.

"I know that." you mumbled sadly, "I know that.. but it's easier said than done."

After your 'break-up' with Jongho, you two went your separate ways.

You did all that you can to avoid him, the PE classes were hell and most of the time, you pretended to be sick so you won't have to attend the lessons and see his face. His presence alone made you want to throw up.

When he's gone for good, there was a moment of desperation within you, wishing that he'll call you. Hoping that maybe, he'll realize that you're the one for him. Praying that he'll choose you instead, that he'll come back to you, begging for one more chance.

All of those went down the drain when you stalked his social media, photos and videos of his extravagant wedding all over the feed, and you couldn't help but cry.

That girl in the gorgeous, white dress could've been you. It should've been you, the one he's saying his vows to, promising to protect with all his might. It would've been you, the one he will love until he's grey and old.

Although you know, right from the start, it was never you.

The denial stage was better than the acceptance stage, this shit is by far the worst you have ever gone through.

Like they all say, facts do really hurt.

You're trying your best to heal, but the insecurities are gnawing at you. Unanswered questions kept you up all night, the dark bags under your eyes are the tell tale sign of it.

You blinked when Beomgyu sighs again, bringing you out of your stupor.

"Come on up." he says, pulling you up suddenly, throwing a hoodie on your face, "Let's go somewhere."

You groaned, "No." you muttered under your breath, proceeding to lie back on the comfort of your bed to no avail, since Beomgyu, being the stronger one, dragged you down with him until you were out of the house.

"My god!" you protested, pulling away from him with a half-hearted angry glare, "You can't just drag me like that!"

"I can and I will!" he yelled back, glaring at you with the same amount of heat that you're radiating.

"And why is that?" you raised your eyebrows, putting your arms on your hips like a mom demanding an explanation.

“Because I care.” he whispers, and you completely hear it. You did think that your ears are playing some kind of game, but then Beomgyu repeated the sentence with more conviction. 

“Beomgyu.. I, what do you mean by that?” 

“You don’t need to think too much about it.” he started to voice out his thoughts, which was a bombshell since your friend, in spite of his stubbornness and motor mouth, rarely displays what he really feels, “I’m just tired of seeing you like this, you know?” he looks into your eyes, waiting if you’ll retort or something, but when he sees that you’re waiting for him to finish, he goes ahead and takes the opportunity to speak.

“It’s not like you to mope around because of some guy who can’t treat you right. I know, it’s difficult but I can’t stand seeing you so hopeless.. I, this is not the Y/N that I know and love.” 

Your breathing hitched, ‘Is he?’ 

Beomgyu took your hand in his, the familiar coziness of his skin against yours somehow gave you a sense of solace, a feeling that he always brought with him whenever he’s with you.

“You’re not alone, alright? So let’s go get some ice cream, my treat.” he smiled at you, and you couldn’t help but beam back, pouncing at him so suddenly that he almost stumbled back. Thankfully, his balance and core are great, so no one was hurt at the collision.

“Thank you.” you mumbled, giving some space and intertwining your fingers with his, “I appreciate this so much.”

His eyes softened, the bright yet soft orange hue of the sunset cascades on his side profile, further highlighting his charms (how on earth are you only noticing this now is another mystery for you to solve.) 

“I appreciate you too,” his eyes crinkled, a mischievous glint on his brown orbs as he disconnected your hands and ran away from you, “only after you shower though.” he shouts, laughing like a maniac.

You were left dumbfounded, of course he’ll find a way to ruin such a sweet moment. 

Still, it wouldn’t be as fun as he didn’t. So you chased after him, ready to punch him in the gut for the playful remark he threw at you. 

“Beomgyu you dick! Come back here!”

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

taglist:

@hyuckilstan @gwenchwana @minkiflwr @bloomingsann @btsreader12 @hwadump @songmingisthighs @isaluvvs @minkysmilk @jngwyz @fairygirl18 @jcngh0-hq @justyoonsworld @v-lvs-yungi

a/n: last one down! tysm for all the people who read and supported this set of fics (even if i slowed down in the middle) i really, really appreciate you all!! thank you for all the feedbacks and comments!! 💜💜

NEXT UP! ATEEZ MINISODE SERIES!

[richarlotte]

Hypergamy Advice?

You have to take control and start living your life

In my mind, it’s incredibly hard to be successful in hypergamy if you’re not actively leveling up your own life first. I’ve spoken about this before, but when I decided to take my gap years between high school and college, I asked my dad what I should be doing in the interim. We had discussed me not beginning university immediately in the past, but I think this conversation really made him realize how set I was on taking some time to take care of myself and figure out my future.

His response to my decision was sitting me down, telling me that not being in school wasn’t an option unless I had a plan, had thought about it clearly, was actively engaging in things to better myself, and still planned on getting a degree. I got a full-time job in a field I loved and moved to a larger city. I traveled, I bettered my body and my mind, I focused on learning good coping skills and emotional regulation, I put everything I’d learned to use, and I started university feeling like I was in an absolutely amazing place.

 

This shouldn’t be a controversial opinion, but you cannot just wait around for a man. No woman should be wasting away waiting for a man to choose her and whisk her away to a magical life. If you’re not in school, you should be working on yourself and working at a job. If you’re self-employed and plan on staying self-employed, then you should be focusing on building your business, and if you don’t know what to do, you should be focusing on your strengths, finding your weaknesses, and finding something to stick with.

It’s very hard to rise up if you’re not actively engaged in bettering yourself, and, as a rule, you should want more for yourself. Whether it be a traditional education, learning how to run a successful company, working on your mind and body, gathering the tools to educate yourself, traveling, or working, you need to take charge of your own life and be actively invested in it. I also would caution you against changing your plans or putting your life on hold for any man; if you’re set on seeing your goals through, you’ll find that the right man will fit in nicely with your plans. You’re living for yourself; make good choices and spend your time well.

You must be willing to work hard to better yourself and your situation

[rubra-wav]

Main Hazbin Hotel cast x fallen angel reader who wants to cut off their wings (drabble - hc format)

Req by: @lightmoon99

A/N: I fucking love fallen angel angst type content, it's my bread and butter. I hope I was able to do it some justice <3

Cw: SFW, decapitation, a bit angsty, platonic, cannibalism, Gn!Reader

-

When you had fallen from heaven to hell, your hate for your more angelic attributes that had already existed before the fall only deepened.

You hated the sensation of the weight that signified your wings were, in fact, still there even when your halo had been taken when the exterminators had left you to die here.

You hated that you had to feel the pain of your attempt to hide them under cloaks and baggy clothes with ropes pinning them to your back.

When you came to the hazbin hotel, you were open from the get-go with Charlie, hoping she would sympathise being the daughter of a fallen angel herself.

It of course didn't take long for others in the hotel to find out you are a fallen angel, however it did take longer for them to find out simultaneously during a group exercise that you wanted to discard any and all heavenly reminders of what you used to be.

Charlie

- She's horrified when you bring out your wings in a flourish and say such a thing while gesturing to them.

- It's not too surprising considering you hide them practically all the time, but it still fills her with a sense of grief for you to think such a thing.

- She immediately tries to shut it down, telling you that you shouldn't hurt yourself and should be proud you have such gorgeous wings!

- Would apologise and go silent when she realises how badly she's messed up in saying that seeing your expression.

- Only continues speaking to dissuade some of the poor ideas coming from others in the group.

- She'd probably try to think up ways to make it up to you after the meeting.

- Probably tries to suggest doing some trauma work type things? She doesn't know a lot about that kind of thing, but she could get some books on it to try!

- Actually ends up learning a bit about trauma treatment stuff outside of the awful pop culture live love laugh stuff she's on about most of the time.

- Ends up helping out with you coping a bit better in the end due to that.

- Keeps trying but fails to do anything to dissuade certain members of the hotel to stop encouraging you to remove your wings, however.

Vaggie

- She's stung as a wingless fallen angel herself that you'd want to do such a thing.

- But she also understands all the same why you'd feel that way.

- Would respond in a way that's understanding, but ultimately awkward and clunky due to how she is normally.

- Made worse due to her own angst about it.

- Afterwards, she would probably try to have a private chat to you about it since it's clear you're struggling and logically she's gonna probably be the one most understanding.

- May even reveal she's a fallen too if you're close to try and give you a feeling of comradery in a pretty bleak way.

- She's got basically the opposite of what you've got, but it'd still be bonding and mutual support.

- Would be emotionally supporting you and encouraging you to try work through the trauma rather than harming / cutting off your wings.

- What the hotel doesn't have is a doctor, so you'd be screwed if you decapitated a part of yourself.

- She doesn't want you to feel inclined towards taking up certain members' offers either.

- She knows that the others are not going to stop with their bullshit so she actively tries to educate you on what they are up to really and all the risks that come with.

Angel

- When he first hears it, he cringes very noticeably despite his usual persona.

- The definition of 'that's rough, buddy.'

- He feels terrible for you that you'd feel such a way, but he also has absolutely no clue how to express it at all.

- Probably would be the type to try distract you from the bad by having fun, so he'd be trying to get you to hang out with him and either go to parties or go on various shenanigans.

- He's not good at emotionally comforting people at all, so he's awkward as hell and at loss when it gets particularly bad for you.

- But he's always there to try do activities with you to take your mind off of it.

- And he also needs it as well honestly. It's nice having someone who's also feeling shitty so you can mutually drag each other out to do things rather than wallowing in bs and feeling worse and worse.

- Probably calls out Cherry as well because she's always good at cheering him up.

- He knows quite a few people from a lot of different walks of life, so chances are he could get you in contact with someone who'd be able to perform removal surgery if after everything you still want it done.

- No strings attached as well with his assistance, unlike Alastor.

Husk

- He'd not really react at all initially outside of maybe raising his brows at your comment.

- Obviously, it's bad, but he just prefers to play his cards to his chest with how he truly feels about things.

- Would be actively being bitter as fuck at most of the other residents suggesting stupid shit though in a way that's honestly protective.

- Basically shuts all of them down one by one, calling them out on their crap.

- When Alastor points out how he 'seems to care awfully much about you' Husk scoffs and tells him to fuck off.

- Shuts up for the rest of the group part of the interaction.

- Afterwards though, he'd have a private conversation with you and actually gives you some good advice.

- Tells you that you should do whatever the hell you want but also to not let the opinions and thoughts others dictate that.

- If you want to do that, it's really your decision, and nobody has any right to try to tell you what you should do with your own wings.

- Doesn't really share his own opinion on what he thinks you should do because it's asinine and would be hypocritical to what he's encouraging.

- Just encourages you to think for yourself rather than just going with what the idiots and asshole are trying to fill your head with.

- And if you do decide to get them removed? Make sure to be safe with it.

Sir Pentious

- He very obviously feels bad for you. He shows it all over his face but also has no clue how to express it properly.

- So, naturally, he automatically goes to propose a practical solution to the problem.

- "I can do that for you, my fallen friend! I have experience with my creations, so I should be able to attemp-"

- He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before he's very rudely interrupted by Husk and told to fuck off with that shitty idea.

- Visibly deflates when he's told he's not a doctor and is just some inventor wannabe.

- He'd shut up for the rest of the meeting, moping and glaring between Husk and Alastor.

- But afterwards, he's approaching you saying he would try his best to do it if you asked.

- Would go and start researching how to do the procedure and starts meticulously learning about how to properly do it.

- Whether you decide on him doing the procedure or not, he wants to be ready just in case.

- He has no idea how to emotionally provide for you properly in this situation, so he's doing what he does best and is working practically. He's all open to any way he can be of assistance, however.

- Absolutely asked his eggs for advice on what to do and got nowhere.

Alastor

- Person number 2 who receives a resounding 'shut up' message via Husk.

- His eyes absolutely light up when you say you want to remove your wings, grin widening as he takes on a sweet tone that does not match his intentions at all.

- "Well, that could certainly be arranged, darling."

- Asks if you'd like to make a deal for your wings in exchange for something you want from him. He'd take you to someone skilled enough to do the operation.

- He wants a meal that is heavenly in a completely different kinda way.

- It's not every day you get to eat angel wings. And it wasn't like you wanted them, and he sure did.

- Even if you're friends, he wants to win the rare delicacy competition he has going with Rosie. If he bought some skilfully cooked dish with your wings in it, he'd win without a shadow of a doubt.

- It's not like he'd be lying about getting them removed, either. Just his intentions for volunteering to do so.

- Shuts up about it after the first mention of it and being called out by Husk, going on about something different after.

- But he's already plotting out what he can do to get what he wants.

- Would actively be sabotaging Pentious the whole time he's studying how to do the procedure as well. Those wings are going to be his, and he will not be the second choice when you (in his mind at least) inevitably come to him for assistance.

- He won't actively make your misery worse, but he will act as a passive influence urging you towards his goal.

Niffty

- Would also say she can remove your wings.

- But, would then proceed to try and do just that without even allowing you to process what she's said.

- Gets caught thrashing around like a madwoman in mid-air by Vaggie who saw it coming from a mile away.

- Wants to get your wings taxidermied and framed because she thinks they would make an excellent decorative piece in the hotel.

- Would then need to be kept in sight at all times away from you as she would be repeatedly trying again and again to destroy the cloaks you wear to hide your wings to get to them.

- Already had been collecting your feathers for several months and had already sorted those into a freaky art piece.

- So she's more than ready for a more substantial specimen.

- Was the one to actually expose you as being an angel in the first place - unintentionally by mentioning the giant feathers she'd found in your trash.

- Would probably be placated if you gave her more feather tbh. She thinks your wings and feathers are just wonderful.

[faecaribou]

Stardew Valley Tumblr Simulator

📚 solarian_bookworm

Hey guys! Any tips on how to get this little boy I'm tutoring to actually pay attention to my lessons? He's not very good at reading, but I'm even letting him pick out which books and he still can't focus! We don't have good education where I'm from (Pelican Town) so any chance he has at learning is from me. How do I help him?

🎷 zuzu-zoomer Follow

Feed him a stew that makes him go blind

🧭 stardewexplorer Follow

feed him the stew that makes you blind for one day

🎡 fuck-gotoro Follow

stew that blinds him for one day

⚅ desert-clubber Follow

Perhaps feed him a stew that makes him go blind for one day?

🪩 insomniac-boy Follow

1 day blinding stew

✨ sparkle-on Follow

wait guys isnt pelican town the place where once a year when the governor visits everyone puts an ingredient into a big pot and they make a stew and everyone eats from it??? dont give this poor girl this advice 😭😭😭😭😭

🎷 zuzu-zoomer Follow

lmao thats hilarious. do it

📚 solarian_bookworm

...I think I'll just ask his mom for advice. Thanks though...

250 notes

🧵 parrot-enthusiast

halfway through the brand new dress! embroidering it is taking forever ugh

3 notes

🗺️ superhaterlock Follow

Solarian Chronicles sucks

📔 sc-fanatic Follow

if you say one more word on this subject im going to kill you

🗺️ superhaterlock Follow

I just don't get why defending and healing gives you a better score than attacking

📔 sc-fanatic Follow

oh you mean the rpg game based on the books. continue

💿 seb-codes

:( i like the game

30 notes

🎸 pop_punkist

Come see my band perform live tonight at Zuzu City!

🚙 jojacolaaddict Follow

Hi yes I'd like to file a complaint. i went to your concert and I saw that damn eldritch monster that I swear I saw last week. What the fuck is that and what meme did I miss

🎸 pop_punkist

uh. are you talking about the farmer? they're actually the one who helped me start my bad they're sick as fuck. do you mind

🚙 jojacolaaddict Follow

what the fuck is the farmer

15 notes

💣 back-in-town Follow

AITA for yelling at my wife?

I just came home from active deployment against the Gotoro army. i lost a lot of friends in the war. I was having a bad day and my wife tried to make my popcorn to cheer it up because it used to be my favorite but it reminded me of the bombs. I yelled at her that she should know better but the local farmer was at our house and told me not to take out my pain on my wife. Am I the asshole?

🎡 fuck-gotoro Follow

NTA thank you for your service. if she did any kind of research on how to help people with PTSD from the war she would know to not be making loud banging noises like that

🏴‍☠️ piratewreck Follow

What? YTA why would his wife know. she was trying to make his favorite food. she should divorce him

28 notes

I started this tumblr stimulator post and then forgot about it and gave up 😭

[nothorses]

youre the first person ive seen since biden drop out who seems genuinely positive abt it, everyone else ive seen is being rlly negative or making jokes and it scared me a lot.... can you explain, or link to another post or article, that explains why its good that he dropped out? i keep seeing everyone saying that biden didnt do anything, then that he did so many things, thrn stuff saying kamala is a bad choice to endorse then you sounded so positive abt her and im very confused ): i avoid politics a lot cuz i live w a very protrump dad and its so difficult to find accurate information that isnt seaped in memes and sarcasm and pessimism but you sounded very genuine! thanks for any help <3

I went into more depth over here! I also wanna share a couple of videos I've been getting these perspectives from, because these folks are a lot more educated on the topic than I am.

I first heard the perspective that Biden was woefully unlikely to win from Olayemi Ulurin, in this video. She has a kind of "I can't blame anyone for not voting" perspective that I do think I agree with, largely because she's coming at it with nuance: Biden is not a compelling candidate, he's not likely to win, it makes sense people don't wanna vote for him, and the Democrats need to get their shit together and pick someone else.

She also posted this video (below) that goes way more in-depth into the issue, and which I think reflects (and GREATLY expands and adds to) my personal stance on the "vote blue no matter who" thing: i.e., voting is ultimately about making the fight easier for activists who are working for real change. It's important for that reason, not because the person you vote for can be trusted to do anything helpful of their own volition.

If you're gonna watch any of the videos I link here, watch that one.

The other source I've looked to a lot recently is Some More News, which is where I initially heard a lot more detail on the "Biden should drop out oh god oh please it's our only hope" perspective.

First was their podcast episode immediately following the recent Biden/Trump debate, in which they delve (somewhat casually, but thoroughly) into why Biden's 2024 campaign was so fucking terrifying for everyone who needs a Democrat win:

They also get into more detail on the topic here, in another podcast episode:

Those two videos are great just for understanding this election and why Biden dropping out is very much the best thing that could have happened. That's basically the topic for the full length of both podcast videos (where Olayemi just kind of touches on that specific question, in comparison). If you just want more details on that question and only have the capacity for one of these, you could probably watch either podcast video (I personally have only watched part of the second one, and all of the first one).

I'd also recommend these two channels for political insight in general.

Olayemi is great because she comes at things from an explicitly activist perspective, and she has a huge personal background in very grounded, concrete political activism, especially as a black immigrant woman. She brings in a lot of other experts as well, often themselves marginalized political activists, which is just a fantastic way to be exposed to a really awesome diversity of knowledgeable perspectives without having to look very far on your own. She's also relentlessly hopeful- and grounded in that hope- which is so, so important and refreshing.

Some More News is a good supplementary to Olayemi, imo, just in that they have a good, upbeat (and again, very grounded) energy, and they cover a lot of very current political stuff in an easy-to-digest kind of way. I find both them and Olayemi really fun to watch, but the vibes are definitely different between the two, and they're good counterpoints to each other- plus they tend to cover different stuff, which just helps broaden your awareness of what's going on, again without needing to look super far.

I know this is a lot of information; hopefully I've made it possible to sift through for the piece you actually want to start with, though. If nothing else, I really encourage folks to check out Olayemi and see if any of her videos catch their eye. She's really fantastic, and her stuff scratches my "video to do laundry to" itch while also being, like, a really valuable watch overall.

Best of luck!!

[leonawriter]

It's a normal day in school - that is to say, school in Ekoda, Japan, since if he were in education in England he'd currently be attending college rather than the equivalent of Secondary education. More to the point, Saguru has been in and out of Japan often enough that the simple task of working in a teacher-assigned group was proving... difficult.

Their teacher must have noticed that although he could get along with almost any of the others merely by being polite, Kuroba did tend to act out less around him. Because they had been put in the same group, and expected to work together.

Only fifteen minutes in, however, and he could tell that things weren't working out. When Kuroba wasn't being belligerent, he was outright ignoring him.

Four and a half minutes later, and Kuroba wasn't even anywhere to be seen. Most likely he was somewhere nearby still, but the possibility remained that he'd simply taken off.

It was a state of affairs that had Saguru unable to stifle a sigh, no matter his relief that Aoko was still there with him.

"I get the impression," he said quietly, "that Kuroba-kun actively dislikes me. Perhaps I should have a word with the teacher and dissuade her from pairing us together, in future."

For an entire two minutes and thirty five seconds, Aoko didn't say anything. He glanced over, only to see her frowning.

"Really...? Aoko... isn't sure."

He blinks, confused and surprised. Surely she should have picked up on the awkward tension between them, by now-?

"Really?" He said dryly. "He can't ever seem to get rid of me fast enough."

It didn't matter how long it had been since the way he'd acted when they'd first met, or how he'd changed since then. Kuroba had made up his mind, and Saguru would be lying if he said that it did not, from time to time, hurt.

Aoko again took her time to think of how to respond.

"Kaito... Aoko thought he'd stopped doing that ages ago. He used to, after-" she cut herself off, but he could fill in the blanks. Kuroba's father was dead, after all, and grief did things to people. To children, especially. "He pushes people away when he thinks they're getting too close. He tried to push me and 'tou-san away too, but we're stubborn, and he doesn't bother anymore. But you didn't hear Aoko say any of that."

"Of course."

Kuroba didn't return for the rest of their classes.

Later that evening, Nakamori called with the news that a notice had somehow been delivered. Fairly straightforward, but in being so easily read it was also easy to read into it - the heist was due to take place once Saguru was supposed to already be back in London again.

The pieces were falling into place. He still had many missing, and it would be preferable to get confirmation from Kuroba himself (or Kid, if the case may be), but it was a working theory.

"It's a damn shame you won't be here," Nakamori was saying in the here and now, Saguru's attention snapping back to the problem at hand. "Could do with your help."

"No need for that," he heard himself say. "I'll be there."

It wouldn't take too much, to cancel his plans.

He was sure that the Kaitou Kid Task Force likely thought that the smile on his face was the result of him thinking of innovative new ways to trip Kid up - and in a way, they weren't wrong. Kid couldn't possibly be expecting Saguru to have decided that like hell was he just going to let himself be pushed away like that; now that he knew what was needed, he'd be as stubborn as it took.