#But there will be a loss of enjoyment for not knowing what's going to happen next...

[kyouka-supremacy]

Me the next manga chapter: Okay can we skip everything else and get directly to the cool sskk scene

[bunnys-kisses]

the group chat (max's version)

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, filming, exhibitionism, yacht sex, alcohol, semi-public sex, missionary, loud & sloppy,

bunny says: this is part of a multi-part series where each chapter is with a different driver. each revolving around the idea of the driver's group chat, how would they film you two fucking for the enjoyment of the others?

want another driver? find your fave here!

the group chat was an infamous piece of insight into the lives of formula one drivers. at least that's what people thought, in all honesty it was rather boring. there was some gossip here and there, but for the most part it was rather quiet.

until the drivers woke up to a pretty big file sent to the chat. labeled "3gO395867CB.mp4" this video gave no indication of what the contents were and only the most curious of the drivers opened it.

"you ready, mijn liefje?" max's voice came from behind the camera. he had it propped up against something and walked to where you were.

the viewer of the video could clearly make out your naked boat, seated on the top part of max's boat. you had your arms stretched out slightly behind you and your ankles crossed. the look in your eye read how dedicated you were to max.

he stood close to you and reached out. his thumb grazed you bottom lip as he said, "you didn't answer me."

you replied, "ready as i'll ever be."

"you know they're watching." he said as he peeled off his briefs and stepped out of them. your lips went right for his cock, but he grabbed you by the hair to stop you, "not today."

he got down beside you and his hands were all over you. especially the hand that snaked between your legs. his lips were at your neck where he was leaving a trail of pretty bruises.

he fingered you while he kissed your neck, he soaked in your moans knowing that the camera was capturing every second of their intimacy on the boat. max verstappen's cute girlfriend, the one who always knew how to light him up after a bad loss.

there you were on camera while your three-time championship boyfriend fingered the fuck out of you. your noises were pornographic, it made max's cock twitch.

"jij bent mijn brave meid, toch?"

you nodded, "ja schatje." your response was almost fluent dutch, which made the champion chuckle before he pulled you in for another searing kiss.

he laid out out on the couch and felt up your body, "look at the camera and tell them how you're feeling." his voice was a comforting feeling but it still made you run hot.

his touch was electric, "tell them." he encouraged.

it took a few moments to build up courage before you waved to the camera as if you weren't naked and about to be fucked. "hi, guys." you said, "um, i guess we're going to put a show on for all of you today." you giggled, "so enjoy."

"tell them how you feel?"

"sunburnt..." there was a pause, "and horny. we were drinking earlier which led to this happening." you looked up at max, "so you better fuck me off before you wrapped your arms around his neck.

he kissed at your heated cheeks, "always will." before he lifted your hips and got you in the right position to slip his cock inside of you. he fit like a glove with little resistance. he made a noise like air was caught in his throat before he coughed out, "neuken."

you two have had sex multiple times. it wasn't a surprise that your pussy was just too good for him. but every time he forgets how good it felt. you wrapped your legs around him.

the sound of the water hitting the boat accompanied the sounds of your heavy breathing and moaning. there was no telling exactly where you were other than it was quiet enough for you to be fucking on the deck and it was a bright sunny day out.

max went in for another searing kiss as he continued to thrust into you. your body moved against him as he laid his chest against yours. your hands explored his toned back, nails dug into the skin when he hit a particular spot.

the kisses you sloppy and loud, paired with your moans and the peacefulness of the ocean. the viewer was left to wonder if anyone could even catch you. maybe that was the risk of it all, the idea of being caught.

he still tasted like the gun and tonics he had earlier. his face kissed by the sun till it was red. sweat down his bare back as he thrusted up into you. you could almost forget that this entire thing was being filmed.

max's praises were sloppy as were his kisses. the fire in your belly burned hot as he continued to move against you. you raked your nails down his back as he rutted into you.

"cum for me" he panted, "i want them to see what face you make when i make you feel good."

you panted, a sarcastic comment hung on your tongue but never came out. your head was too flushed with hot pleasure. you tensed up around him and finished with a loud moan.

max drank in the sight of you hyped up on intense pleasure. he flashed a knowing smile to the camera. he may be sharing the intimate moment between you two, but it didn't mean he was going to share you.

it was loud, sloppy fucking on a yacht. a symbol of power and wealth that max had at his disposal. you kept your legs around him as he continued to thrust into you.

when pleasure sank its teeth into him, he grabbed you by the meat of your hips and gave two hard thrusts of his hips before he spilled himself into you. he coated the inside of your pussy with white cum.

"holy shit."

"max."

"i know. catch your breath." he replied as he pushed hair out of your face. even blissed out you looked like his dream girl. what a special little thing you were!

max then slowly pulled out and let you be laid out on the couch. your breathing was heavy and your skin glowed in the afternoon light. felt lightheaded as you watched the driver get up to turn off the video.

the camera got a good view of max's cock, shiny with your wetness as he picked up the device and turned off the video. the file ended.

the message attached to the video was, "what mine isn't yours. don't ask for a taste. if tomorrow's race goes well, then you'll get another one."

[orionshounds]

as a fierce enjoyer of shadow and sonic’s dynamic, i am deeply interested in how things will shake out in sonic 3, mainly because movie sonic is so different to any other iteration of sonic before

i could go on and on about how interesting sonic wachowski is comparatively....most of the time sonic struggles with his close relationships because, while he loves his friends, he struggles with wanting to be free and feeling tied down to them. this sonic yearns for that stability, he WANTS to be tied down to other people, he wants almost desperately to have a stable place to call home. this is a sonic that is tired of running

shadow has always had a clearly defined past. even if theyve never played it, most sonic fans know the plot of sa2 by heart. it is an amazing story and gives a clear framework for shadow’s character. sonic...has never really had this. sure, certain sonics like sonic satam or underground have more specific pasts, but largely sonic’s backstory has always been kinda nebulous and ive always found that fascinating. to me, shadow is interesting because of his past, sonic is interesting because of his lack of one. this is yet another thing the movie “breaks” about sonics character and its what i believe is going to make such an interesting change to sonic and shadows dynamic

sonic understands shadow’s loss

sure other mainline sonics have experienced loss before, but sonic wachowski has a clearly defined backstory in which he lost someone TREMENDOUSLY important to him....not even just important, he lost his family which is kind of shadow’s whole deal

longclaw was murdered, violently. maria was murdered, violently. both of them witnessed their loved ones dying right in front of them. this sonic wont just empathize with shadow, he understands him on a fundamental level.

now, obviously, they will still have a lot of conflict. shadow is going to lash out at the world for his loss and sonic refuses to let anything happen to his new family. but i cant help but wonder if sonic will try reaching out on that personal level, and what shadow’s reaction will be (i imagine he would reject it, saying that sonic could never understand, but he does. he so painfully does).

the movie’s story has set up such a perfect reflection of shadow in sonic that i have never seen before and i CANNOT WAIT to see play out

[dunmesh]

can't stop thinking about dungeon meshi btw. how it comes down to being able to appreciate the hard and painful times because of the moments of happiness you experienced along the way.

it's about falin being able to forgive and look beyond the harsh way things were done- be it their father announcing he will send her away from the village or laios leaving her behind- partly due to her personality, and how she used to prioritize her loved ones' needs and emotions over her own, but also because of the positive impact that road eventually had on her. she knows her family was trying to protect her but what truly made it impossible to regret the path she had to take were the precious memories she made later on- it was learning magic and seeing new places and becoming friends with marcille and of course she couldn't hate it all, she was happy. it's about laios feeling so utterly miserable because on his end, it seemed like nothing good or enjoyable happened to him after leaving home, aside from the letters written by falin. but how long can a child be satisfied with another's happiness which he never got to experience himself?

so it really is beautiful that the series started off with him realizing that this journey allowed him to finally feel that happiness he was yearning for-

-and ended with everyone else realizing it too. when you first read chapter 11 it's just a funny gag about people not understanding laios, but it genuinely was too early for them to share his sentiment. they needed to come to terms with it on their own, with chilchuck opening up to them and senshi resolving the hovering mystery of his past and izutsumi freeing herself and joining their party and marcille facing her greatest fear. the winged lion was taking advantage of the loneliness and anger and pain lingering in laios's heart, but even it couldn't deny this. how, despite everything, he couldn't be satiated and his own happiness couldn't be complete without his friends' happiness too. how it was always about everyone enjoying a meal together.

and then there's marcille, who refused to admit it until the very end. it's in the way she had such a hard time fully accepting eating monsters despite how tasty she found them, not just due to how weird they were but also because she tried rejecting and burying her own pleasure and joy during this entire journey. from the very beginning, she was only willing to endure the pain and suffering.

as if she couldn't accept feeling an ounce of comfort, satisfaction, let alone happiness while falin was suffering on her own. and it might've been laios's reaction as well if all of this had happend a decade ago- i mean, that's exactly what he did back then. blaming himself for leaving her behind, being tormented by her loneliness and absence while falin was actually slowly moving towards a brighter future. it was him that was stuck, not her. but he kept focusing on her pain to ignore how deep the hole in his own heart had become, consumed by guilt to ignore his own agony, or to make sense of it- because maybe he did deserve it after all he had done.

and for that reason marcille was so terrified of admitting there was warmth in what she considered the depths of hell. because it would mean accepting falin going ahead of her and leaving her behind, accepting the inevitable she was trying so hard to deny and the end of her dream.

but it was learning there's joy even in her worst nightmare that allowed her to finally embrace those moments of pleasure that made her life worth living, however short they were. she realized that her pursuit would take away the things that truly mattered to her, that if she had succumbed to her fear of loss she would've been the one hurting her loved ones, just as happened to thistle. laios asking her to use ancient magic for falin's resurrection and then encouraging her to not give up on her desires during the nightmare chapter was a direct parallel to delgal being the one to push thistle down the road of destruction, while both marcille and thistle were trying to protect the people most important to their friends.

but in marcille's case, laios was able to understand her at the end, pulling her back just before she descended to complete ruin. it's truly fascinating how the story is not only about laios being understood but also getting to understand others properly, deeply- it's about mutual understanding, the balance between two people he never managed to maintain before. and i think it's only after seeing thistle's tragedy that he was able to fully realize what might become of marcille down the line. so while delgal put the weight of the world on thistle's shoulders, laios was the one to tell marcille she doesn't have to do that. because even if falin's resurrection hadn't succeeded, they both already know- there's happiness even in the dungeon's pit. and it's by preparing a hearty meal made of her loved one's remains that marcille was able to truly accept it- thus allowing herself to enjoy it to the fullest, embracing the cycle of life, no matter how weird or painful or grotesque it is.

[planetception]

Pain and Heartbreak - The True Meaning of Love - Part 2

Summary: You made the decision to finally get back into the dating world after swearing it off, and you manage to get yourself involved with the star guard of the Indiania Fever, Caitlin Clark.

Cw: Begins with angst and ends in fluff, Cailtin being the biggest sweetheart, still asshole Paige

pt 1

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It’s been about three months and moving on from Paige was one of the most difficult things you’ve ever attempted. It felt as if you saw her everywhere—sometimes with a new girl or surrounded by her teammates, who would give you a sad smile as you walked past. You noticed how quickly Paige moved on from you, as if you had never existed in her life. Surprisingly, you grew to accept it. You learned not to care when you saw Paige passionately kissing another girl at a bar, her eyes locked onto yours with a sly smirk on her face.

Even though you were done with Paige, you still supported the basketball team and you still went to their games. Even if Paige gave you a dirty glare whenever you both made eye contact, you still didn't care. Your ex girlfriend wasn’t about to ruin your enjoyment of basketball, and you weren't going to entertain her little game, she was just a bitter ex who wanted to ruin everything you liked. You just hoped that you weren't fucking anything up between the girls just because you still supported Paige’s teammates and still hung out with them and such.

And that brings us to today. You were somehow in Cleveland (Courtesy of Aaliyah buying you a ticket) to watch the Final Four game between Iowa and Uconn and that's where you truly got to know the star guard from Iowa. After the heartbreaking loss, you were on your way to stand outside the Uconn locker room to comfort your friends after their loss.However, you were stopped in the hallway by none other than Caitlin Clark. She was still in her uniform, though her jersey was missing, revealing her sweat-covered, muscular figure. Despite trying not to stare, you couldn't help but take in the sight. You stood there, feeling like an idiot, worried she might scold you for being in a restricted area. Instead, she smiled as she walked over to where you were standing.

“Hey, you aren’t Paige’s girl are you?” She asked kindly.

“Um no, at least not anymore I guess.” You replied as she gave you a sad smile.

You two talked for a while about various little things, and you explained the situation with Paige, detailing how the humiliating video had made it impossible for you to go anywhere without being questioned about it. One thing you noticed about Caitlin was her exceptional ability to listen. She never once interrupted you, and you deeply appreciated this about her. By the end of your conversation, you had exchanged numbers, just for chatting. Before you knew it, Caitlin had to return to the Iowa locker room to celebrate their Final Four victory.

“Shit, I gotta get back to the locker room before Bluder kills me.” She sighed as she spoke, she really wanted to stay and talk to you but duty calls.

You giggled as she began to run away, but that was before she turned around and ran back to you before giving you a light hug, then she turned back around and began to run before she called out to you. “I’ll see you later Y/N!” She yelled as she ran, her voice was filled with warmth. You were a blushing mess from the hug, one thing you noticed was how nice her hugs felt although she was a sweating mess. But deep down, you knew better. After what happened with Paige, you had sworn off dating, unable to trust anyone with your heart again.

Although Caitlin seemed like a genuinely nice girl, the fear of being hurt once more loomed large. You couldn't bear the thought of enduring another heartbreak. You were brought out of your depressive state of mind by the Uconn locker room door opening, and out came Paige. She looked at you in disgust before scoffing, walking right past you and you could’ve sworn she mumbled something disrespectful under her breath as she walked.You wanted to say something but that was before Nika, Aaliyah, Kk and Azzi came out together as they all gave you a sad smile and you knew that they needed the comfort, sp you hugged all 4 of them telling them that they all played well and that you were proud of the whole team.

Over the next week and a half, you talked to Caitlin almost everyday. You heard a lot of wild stories from her childhood, like the one time she almost killed Colin or the time that she almost got attacked by the stray cat on her street. You grew to enjoy these little phone calls with her and you could’ve sworn that you started to grow feelings for her, but you didn’t want to give in, because you didn’t want your heart to be shattered. However you started to realize that not every relationship was going to be like your last two, you began to accept feelings and you could tell that she was developing a crush as well, you even started to flirt with her and so did she.

Caitlin eventually asked you to be her plus one at the Wnba draft and you just couldn’t help but accept her offer, you thought this would be a great start for a relationship to be. Caitlin managed to buy you a ticket to come out to New York with her as well as some of her teammates that you will probably be meeting at the draft. It wasn’t until you were in New York and that's when Caitlin confessed to you in the most romantic way possible.

While Caitlin came to pick you up from the airport, Kate, Gabbie and Jada helped transform the hotel room into a romantic haven. They put a candle on each nightstand, scattered some rose petals around and on top of the bed, they even spritzed some of Caitlin’s favorite perfume around the room, and Jada dug around in Caitlin’s bag to pull out the box that had a CC22 necklace inside that Caitlin was going to gift to you after she confessed. After they made sure that the room was ready they left and headed back to their room, Gabbie texted Caitlin letting her know that the room was ready and Caitlin quickly texted back a thumbs up.

As you two walked hand in hand to Caitlin’s room, you could sense her nervousness through her increasingly sweaty palm. She flashed you a big smile before leading you into the elevator, and you blushed at her endearing nervousness as you ascended to her floor. When you reached it, Caitlin stepped out first, then turned to take your hand again, guiding you towards her room. Just before unlocking the door, she pulled you into a strong embrace from behind, pressing a tender kiss to the back of your head.

“Close your eyes for me Y/N/N please?” She softly whispered into your ear.

You obliged as Caitlin chuckled before she unlocked the door, she guided you into the room and once again whispered into your ear to open up your eyes. When you did, tears flowed down your face in happiness.

“Oh my god Cait, this is, it’s, fuck its beautiful.” You spoke as you turned around and gave her a tight hug, burying your face into her neck before she once again kissed you on the head.

Caitlin guided you to the bed before laying you down, you two smiled deeply at each other as she hovered over you.

“Y/N, I know that your past relationships didn’t end well, but I saw that you were special when I first met you. I love how you talk to me, I love your clinginess, fuck there’s so many words I wanna say. What I’m trying to say Y/N is that I want you to be mine, I want to proudly show you off to people, make people fucking jealous of the relationship that we have. I’ll treat you like the princess you are, buy you everything you want. Be my girlfriend Y/N?” She confessed as she leaned down to you, lips brushing against each other.

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend Cait. Can you kiss me please?” You spoke in desperation as her hazel eyes stared into yours.

Caitlin closed the distance between you, kissing you deeply, making the moment feel like a scene from a movie. Her lips were incredibly soft, with a hint of strawberry chapstick that you could taste. The kiss gave you butterflies, and as she caressed your cheek and gently broke the kiss, she gazed into your eyes. Both of you were blushing, and she tenderly cradled your face in her hands, kissing your forehead and wiping away the tears that streamed down your face. She then gave you a gentle peck on the lips before reaching for the box Jada had placed on the nightstand. Opening it, she carefully took out the necklace, ready to adorn you with her heartfelt gift.

“Sit up baby, wanna put this on you.” She said as she showed you the necklace that had her initials and number on it. You smiled as you turned around and lifted your head up as she put the necklace on you, once it was latched she kissed you again, muttering a “You’re mine now princess” in between kisses. She hugged you tightly as you two fell asleep in each other's arms. You finally felt at home with Caitlin and you could finally heal your heart with her.

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It was finally draft night and it would be your and Caitlin’s first public appearance as a couple. While Caitlin was dressed in all white, you went with an all black fit. You two walked down the red carpet with each other, hand in hand as photographers and reporters were all yelling for attention. You two posed for some photos and Caitlin let you be as clingy as you wanted to her and you were grateful for the way she has been treating you. After finishing up some more photos and interviews, you two made your way into the building and sat down at the table with Caitlin’s family. You guys talked until the actual draft started, Caitlin let you lean your head on her shoulder as she gently rubbed your back.

When Caitlin got drafted, she hugged you and kissed you first before she hugged the rest of her family. You whispered “I love you.” to her as she walked up the stage, shaking the commissioner's hand as she held up an Indiana Fever jersey. You watched her in awe as she started to talk to reporters again and you turned around to meet eyes with Jada, Kate and Gabbie as they all smiled at you. You also smiled at Nika and Aaliyah as they looked so happy of you finally in a healthy relationship. You also felt Paige watching you as she sat next to Azzi, the same look of disgust on her face, but it didn’t feel genuine, however you couldn't care. Azzi smiled at you as you smiled back at her.

As the final chapter of you and Paige’s relationship closed, you found comfort in Caitlin who showed you that being clingy was okay, and showed you what a real relationship looks like and you could’ve never been so happy.

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And there we go, pt two of the Paige fic. Yes I made Caitlin endgame. I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for all the support and as always, requests are open.

[librababe99]

Moments Between Time: Epilogue

CW: Talks of anxiety, suggestive content Word count: 1126 Summary: In the aftermath of a harrowing battle, Logan struggles with the weight of what almost was. As you both navigate the lingering shadows of the past, an unexpected moment deepens the bond between you in ways neither could have anticipated.

A/N: And this officially wraps up Moments Between Time! I'm happy with the direction this story took and most importantly I hope it was enjoyable for all of you...💖Again, thank you for the interactions with this series...its so exciting to see it reach so many different people! - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part four)

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The weeks that followed the battle were a strange mix of relief and uncertainty. The mansion, once a fortress brimming with tension, slowly returned to its usual rhythm, but there was an underlying sense that things had changed—irrevocably. Life had been saved, but the scars of what could have been still lingered in the air.

Logan was quieter these days, his usual gruffness softened by a deep, contemplative silence that seemed to hang over him. You often found him in those moments, staring off into the distance, lost in thoughts of a future that had almost been—and the losses he’d endured along the way.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you found him in the living room, nursing a drink. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting warm, flickering light across his face. He looked up as you entered, his eyes softening at the sight of you.

"Hey," you said, offering a small smile as you sat beside him.

"Hey," he replied, his voice low and rough, but there was a warmth in it that made your heart flutter.

For a while, neither of you spoke, content to simply exist in each other’s presence. It was a comfort you both cherished, this quiet understanding between you.

"Do you ever think about it?" Logan asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid of the answer.

"Think about what?" you asked, though you had a feeling you already knew.

"The future that almost was. The one we fought to stop." His gaze dropped to the glass in his hand, watching the amber liquid swirl slowly. "Sometimes it feels like it’s still there, just out of reach… like a shadow that won’t go away."

You reached out, covering his hand with yours, grounding him in the moment. "I think about it," you admitted, your voice gentle. "But then I remind myself that it’s gone. We changed it. We fought for this, for what we have now."

Logan’s eyes met yours, and there was something raw and vulnerable in his gaze. "What if… what if something else happens? What if I can’t protect you?"

"You don’t have to protect me from everything, Logan," you said softly, squeezing his hand. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with the weight of his thoughts. "I’ve lost so much… I can’t lose you too."

"You won’t," you said firmly, shifting closer to him. "I’m not going anywhere. We’ve been through hell together, and we came out the other side. That’s not going to change."

Logan looked at you, his expression softening. "You’re too good for me, you know that?"

You chuckled, leaning your head on his shoulder. "You’ve got it backwards. You’re the one who’s always been there, even when things got tough. You’re the strongest person I know… and you’ve got the biggest heart."

A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I don’t know about all that."

"I do," you said, lifting your head to look at him. "You’re everything to me. And I’m not going to let you forget it."

He stared at you for a long moment, as if trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. Then, without a word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both gentle and intense, a silent promise of everything he felt but couldn’t say. 

The kiss slowly deepened, the air around you thickening with desire. Logan’s hands roamed down your body, gripping your waist and pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, the tension in his body unmistakable—an urgent, raw need that sent a thrill through you.

"Logan…" you whispered against his lips, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the heat radiating from him, the steady, powerful thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingers.

He groaned, a deep, primal sound, as his lips moved to your neck, trailing fiery kisses that made you shiver. "I need you," he murmured, his voice rough with want.

Your breath hitched at his words, your body responding with a surge of heat. "I’m right here," you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him even closer.

With a low growl, he shifted, his strength overpowering as he pinned you beneath him on the couch, his body pressing down against yours. The weight of him was intoxicating, every inch of him hard and warm against your skin. The world outside vanished, leaving only the electric connection between you, the desperate, shared need.

"I love you," Logan whispered, his voice husky in your ear, the words filled with a fierce intensity that sent a jolt of heat through you. "More than anything."

You smiled, breathless, your heart swelling with an overwhelming love for him. "I know," you whispered back, your hands sliding down his back, nails lightly grazing his skin, drawing a low, guttural moan from him.

He kissed you again, harder this time, the urgency in his touch undeniable. His hands explored your body, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through you. Time blurred, the night stretching out as you lost yourselves in each other, every moment filled with heat and passion.

Finally, as the firelight dimmed to a soft glow, you lay tangled together on the couch, bodies still humming from the intensity of your connection. Logan held you close, his arms wrapped around you tightly, as if he could never let you go, both of you lost in the lingering warmth of your embrace.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet room.

"For what?" you asked, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

"For being here," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "For loving me… for not giving up on me."

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. "There’s no one else I’d rather be with," you whispered, your voice full of love and certainty.

Logan sighed contentedly, his grip on you tightening slightly as if to remind himself that you were real, that you were here. "I don’t deserve you," he murmured, his voice low and full of reverence.

"You deserve everything, Logan," you whispered back, your voice firm. "And I’m going to make sure you know that, every single day."

He didn’t reply, but the way he held you, the way he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, said more than words ever could. As you lay there in his arms, the past and future no longer seemed as daunting. There would be challenges ahead, no doubt—but as long as you were together, you knew you could face anything. You both could  build a life worth fighting for.

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Taglist: @hughverine @itzyahgirllkita1 @nonamevenus @angelofthorr @swthxrry @alex21705 @ayamenimthiriel @charlyrmv @penguinsravioli @mxtokko @4ria790

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part nineteen

authors note: the infamous chapter is finally here! a lot of questions you all have asked me are finally answered. i hope it's enjoyable and worth the wait!

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angst (discussion of child loss), language, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 10k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @southerngirl41 @wanderingreigns @romanreignsbae

To say your 2024 Bingo card has been filled with nothing but surprises would be the understatement of the century.

The past six months, really, have been mostly wonderful but also chaotic as hell.

And if someone had told you, way back when it was just you and Joe in your own little fantasy world, that his wife would one day text you in the middle of the night, wanting to meet and join forces to combat your apparently psycho-ex best friend, you’d laugh your ass off. Laugh your ass off harder than a guest at a Katt Williams special.

But, life is funny, and God clearly has a sense of humor, because that’s exactly what happened.

It’s also why you’re sitting on Joe’s bathroom counter at 4am as he finishes up in the shower, readying for his early flight.

“I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind to tell you I gave her your number.” Joe shuts the water off, and you immediately redirect your attention to anywhere but him as he walks out. It’s bad enough you two didn’t have enough time to get in another session before his departure, but it’s another thing to be so cruelly taunted by your sexy ass man in all his buff, your favorite pastime on fully display but unable to be touched.

Sucked.

Rode.

All of the above.

Joe continues, and your eyes land on him just as he’s knotting the towel around his waist.

“I should have asked you before I did so, but with everything going on—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Joe.” Cutting off his unnecessary apology feels like a good move, the right move. You’re not mad at him about that at all. “I know you would have never done so if you believed she had any ill intent.” And it’s the truth, especially on the eve of this Mariah mess. “Sure, I would have liked a heads up that my boyfriend’s ex-wife would be texting me asking to meet and essentially do an interview together, but it wasn’t a necessity.”

He chuckles, looking over and asking, “what are your thoughts there?”

A heavy sigh leaves your mouth at his equally heavy question. “I don’t know. I feel torn. On one hand, it’s kinda weird, ya know? Truth be told, I always figured if by some miracle I ever spoke to her, she’d try to kick my ass sooner than she’d want to grab dinner.” You quickly add, “emphasis on try because ain’t no bitch beating my ass.”

He chuckles, reaching for his deodorant. “Well, you better not be fighting nobody with my baby in you.”

Rolling your eyes, your hand naturally rests on your stomach. “I know, I just….what do you think?”

“I think you should do whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“None of this is comfortable,” you murmur, and it’s the truth. This whole thing sucks all around. “And that’s not an answer.”

He shrugs. “I can’t tell you what to do, babe.”

“Technically, you can, but you’re choosing not to. There’s a difference.”

Joe moves over and caresses your temple, sharing quietly, “I want you and Callie to come down to Philly a few days before WrestleMania. They’ll put me up in an Airbnb. I’ll make sure it’s big enough for all of us.” 

The abrupt change of topic confuses you, yes, but there’s more excitement at the thought of being reunited with him than bewilderment. It brings a small smile to your face. “Are you sure?” Any chance to see Joe will always be taken advantage of, you just don’t want your and Callie’s visiting him at such a time to cause any sort of distraction.  “I don’t want us to get in the way. You need to focus.”

“You two could never get in the way, and my focus is exactly where it should be.” His hand snakes under your shirt, feeling your soft belly. “I also want you to come to the Hall of Fame Awards with me.”

That definitely takes you by surprise. You’ve never attended any sort of formal, public event with him before, and the WWE Hall of Fame awards is like the event. “Are—are you sure that’s a good idea?” Being careful with your words and honest with yourself, you confess, “I’m not sure if it’s a good look for you to be seen so publicly and openly with me right now. Your fans already kinda hate me.”

Limiting your media consumption has been a saving grace in all this. Not that you were big on it to begin with. However, you have read a couple articles and made the even bigger mistake of reading the comments. To say some, if not most, of the internet wrestling community have nothing nice to say about you would be putting it lightly. 

There’s people cussing you out, people saying you should burn in hell for what you did, even some saying if Joe (Roman) loses at WrestleMania, it’ll be your fault.

That last one is at least a little funny to you, because for such big fans, they sure don’t know how WWE works.

Roman’s gonna retain the same way he has for almost three years. 

Ain’t shit stopping that.

“I told you before, and I’ll keep saying it until I’m blue in the face—I don’t give a fuck what they have to say about us. I love you, and I’m going to be with you, regardless of what anyone thinks. The Hall of Fame, Wrestlemania, hell, I’ll take you in the fucking ring with me if I want to.” His defense is so strong in its delivery and conviction that it almost instantly takes away any and all reservations on your end. “And they’re not fans if they have some negative shit to say about the woman I love.”

“Well, in their defense, Mariah did a damn good job making me out to be some Jezebel.”

“That’s partially why I think you should do the Live with Jadah.” His tone and expression soften, thumb rubbing against your stomach. “They don’t know you like I do, and they don’t need to per se, but they can at least see you’re not what she’s made you out to be.” He brings his mouth to your temple, lips lingering. “They can see why I love you so much.”

“Knew you had an opinion on what you think I should do.” But, regardless, you’re thankful for him truly allowing you to decide what is best for you. And you think you have. With a big breath, you settle on your final answer. “I’m gonna do it, but not even to let people see I’m not this horrible person. I just….I haven’t really had a chance to use my voice in any of this. Like…..” You work hard to help him understand where you’re coming from. “I didn’t have a voice in the DCFS situation outside of defending my parenting, but in this….there’s a chance for me to speak my side, to be able to defend myself. And I feel like I need to do it.”

“I agree.” You’re not surprised. Joe is anything and everything, including forever supportive. “Ya’ll are gonna use my Instagram to do it too.”

“Wait, what?”

“Baby, Jadah doesn’t have any social media, and you don’t need all them damn people on your page, nor do you want that.” He’s right. You hadn’t thought of it that way. “Mariah had an audience. You get one too.” 

Fair. Very fair. “Okay.”

He taps your hip, informing. “I’ll leave you the login info." It sometimes still amazes you how much he trusts you, how easy it is for share so many things with you that are objectively personal. His banking information, his fucking social medias that are literally tied to his career.

It means the world for him to have so much trust in you.

“We’re going to Disney after Mania.” 

Joe is just full of surprises, jumping from subject to subject. “What? I thought we were going for Callie’s birthday.”

“We are, for a second time, but the first time is gonna be that Tuesday after Mania. A day for you and Callie to rest.” 

You’re still trying to settle on the fact that this man is proposing two Disney visits literally back to back when something else hits you. “Wait, the week after WrestleMania? Don’t you have to work?”

“I’ve got it handled,” is all he says, all he offers, all he provides. 

“Joe, what does that even mean? How does that work? How do you just win WrestleMania and disappear right after?” Something’s not adding up. There’s something he’s not telling you, and it pisses you off for a lot of reasons, but mostly because you just hate being kept in the dark. “Is it being written into the storyline or—”

“I’ve got it handled, okay?” His tone is exasperated, which you find ironic considering you’re the one on the receiving end of his vague ass answers. “Just….trust me.”

That’s a hard one. Not trusting him. That comes second nature at this point, but trusting him and not knowing if whatever he’s handled causes any sort of problems for him. You worry about any hits he might take sometimes because of his decisions that are usually for the sake of you and Callie.

It shouldn’t bother you, but it does, especially because you know how important his career is to him.

“What about you?” That’s your biggest concern. This man has been ripping and running for what feels like months. He deserves a vacation. He needs a vacation. If he’s gonna be off for a couple days at least, why not use them to recharge? “You need to rest too, Joe. I can tell you’re exhausted, baby. There’s no need for us to go twice. We can just stick with May for her birthday.”

He shakes his head, preparing a guaranteed disagreement. “You’re gonna be five months pregnant by then. You don’t need to be walking around a damn amusement park while that far along. I don’t know if you’ll even want to.”

“Baby, trust me when I tell you, I could be nine months pregnant, and I’m still going to waddle my big ass around that park. I’m fighting any kid that tries to get in my or Callie’s way.”

He shakes his head, muttering, “the May visit might not happen if your ass gets us banned.”

“I can behave,” you murmur, recognizing you’re being a bit dramatic. Just a smidge. Disney has been a dream visit since you were a kid, so there's an immense amount of excitement at going.

“And why are we going twice anyway?” Eyes narrowing in suspicion, you realize and point out, “you’re up to something, aren’t you?” He rolls his eyes but says nothing. “You are. Oh my God, Joe, you’ve already done so much for us, we don’t need anything else. I don’t need anything else.”

It’s the truth, too. Going to Disney twice in one year when some people never get to go at all is absolutely not a necessity. No matter whatever he clearly has planned that requires two trips.

Joe looks like he wants to say something but decides against it. Annoying ass. “It better not have anything to do with a damn dog.” He laughs. “Especially with me pregnant now. Two kids under the age of 5 is gonna be a lot in and of itself.” Since you’re already on the subject, you add, “I’ve been thinking maybe my mom can come stay with us a little after the baby is born? So, I can have some help when you can’t be there.”

There’s something in Joe's expression that gives you pause, like he wants to say something but decides against it. “And I mean, I’d be fine with your mom coming too, I just—another adult will be great.” You throw that out, an honest thing, thinking maybe he’s wondering why it always has to be your mom and not more of his side of the family.

Although deep down, you know that’s not it.

“Of course, whatever you want.” He kisses your forehead and moves away to finish getting ready to go.

As much as you don’t want to feel annoyed, you do. This is at least the second or third time you’ve tried to broach the subject of post-baby, and he’s been elusive, borderline dismissive. 

It’s hard to tell if it’s because he’s maybe nervous about something, if he truly doesn’t understand why you’re wanting to discuss this now, or something else, but regardless, it’s annoying.

And you don’t like it.

You don’t like it at all.

———-

Things happen fast in Florida, or maybe it’s just you and the reality show that your life has been the past week or so.

Because one minute you’re celebrating an unexpected but welcomed pregnancy, and the next you’re the subject of major media articles, publications, and news segments. Followed up with being hit up by your boyfriend’s ex-wife, the same wife he had when you first started sleeping with him.

The same woman who you’re anxiously awaiting to ring your doorbell at any minute now.

The silence of the large house doesn’t help either. You're greatly wishing you could be distracted by Callie’s loud singing, running around, laughter, something. But, you asked Alexis to take her out for a few hours for you, not wanting her to be around in the event that things turn ugly.

And that’s a bit of an irrational belief on your part.

You would have never invited her over, accepted her invitation, agreed to even meet with her if there was any thought in the back of your mind that she has any ulterior motives. In a weird twist of fate, you’re both kind of in the same position, the subject of all kinds of public scrutiny. Granted, from what you have seen on social media, majority of the people are on her “side.” Some going even as far as starting and using the hashtag #TeamJadah.

And you can understand that, understand why the public would “side” with the wife versus the mistress, but it’s also based upon a shit ton of Mariah’s lies and smear campaigns that have painted you in such an ugly light.

That’s ultimately why you’ve agreed to this, agreed to this highly uncomfortable team up, because it’s the only and best way to reclaim your voice.

To reclaim your narrative.

The sound of the doorbell ringing literally makes you jump from where you sit criss-crossed on the new expensive ass sofa Joe picked out for the house. It is comfortable though, and for a second, you almost choose to stay in the comfort of the sofa versus answering the door.

But, you know that’s not an option, for Jadah to fly out on such short notice only to be stood up by the other woman.

It’s not a good look.

Clearly.

So with a deep breath and quick mental pep talk, your feet carry you to the door that you unlock and hesitate only a second before opening.

Instantly, you’re hit with two things: the sweet smell of Jadah’s perfume and Jadah herself. Right off the bat, you can’t get over how gorgeous she is. Her deep complexion is absolutely flawless and moisturized as hell, thick eyebrows that frame her almost slender facial shape perfectly. Full lips pulled back into a sly smile. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and thin sleeved top that show off her shape, both slim and thick where it counts. 

She’s as drop dead gorgeous as you imagined her to be. You can’t be attractive as Joe is without someone to match your aura. 

“Well, let no one say Joe doesn’t have good taste. You’re even prettier in person.” 

Receiving compliments from your boyfriend’s ex-wife was also nowhere on your 2024 bingo card, but clearly all projections need to be discarded at this point with how many stunners have happened.

“Thank you.” It’s strange. You’ve always been super good with compliments, taking them at face value, because you know that you’re pretty, always having the high self-esteem to recognize as such. But, hearing it come from her of all people feels a little…..off. Like, she shouldn’t be complimenting you. “Umm, come in, please.” 

She does so, walking and looking around, almost inspecting. “This place is beautiful.”

All of the compliments are throwing you. It’s not what you were expecting. Then again, you’re not sure just what you were expecting. 

“Thanks. Do you…want some water or something?”

She shakes her head, “I’m good, thank you.” Jadah gestures with a manicured finger between the kitchen and the living room. “Preference?”

Shaking your head, you leave that up to her. “Whatever you like.”

She nods and heads into the living room, sitting down on the sofa where you just sat, anxiously awaiting her arrival. Wordlessly, you follow suit, sitting on the sofa opposite of her. 

“Thank you for agreeing to this,” she says, placing her purse on the coffee table. “I know me reaching out must have taken you for a loop.”

“A little.” A lot. But, she doesn’t need to know that. “I—I can understand why. I’m so sorry you got caught up in all of this.”

“One thing you don’t have to do is apologize. For any of this. For anything. From what Joe told me, this girl is just psycho and has some weird obsession with trying to ruin your life.”

Scoffing bitterly, you can’t find a point to disagree with. “That sounds about right….”

No one says anything for a good, solid minute. Or two.

“Okay, why don’t we get the awkward part over.” Her voice takes on a new tone, one similar to boredom and insouciance. “We both dated and slept with the same man. I happened to be married to said man when you started sleeping with him, but that shit doesn’t even matter, cause you already know what our deal was.”

The deal…..

No, you have no idea what the deal was. That’s part of why you’re happy to finally be talking to her, because you have so many questions. Granted, that’s not the reason she’s here in the first place but still.

Your facial expression must give away the confusion because Jadah’s indifferent tone shifts to something else, something more serious. “Y/N…..how much do you know about my marriage to Joe?”

It’s a bit difficult for you to navigate how honest you should or shouldn’t be with her. She’s a stranger for all intents and purposes, but given why you two are now even sitting across from each other, maybe honesty is the best option. “He’s never really said anything about you or his marriage, and I won’t lie to you, it’s not like I’ve made a lot of effort to find out.”

There’s a part of you that still struggles with a level of guilt for the intentionality you had at the beginning of dating Joe to not ask about his wife, to pretend that you didn't see the wedding band on his finger.

Avoidance makes justification a hell of a lot easier. 

She chuckles, gaze settling on her lap. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Joe’s always been a good man. He was probably trying to protect me, protect my privacy.” Jadah shakes her head. “The irony, huh?” She leans forward, hands on her knees. “Alright, we’re doing this.” She seems to be speaking more to herself than anything, and you get it fully. You’re still giving yourself mental pep-talks just sitting across from her. “I’m gonna tell you the truth about us, but I’m telling you now, certain things Joe, even with how much he clearly loves you, may never talk about. Really, it’s years of therapy that’s why I can talk about it now.” On one hand, the warning is appreciated. On the other hand, it only increases your anxiety at whatever you’re about to hear. “I also have this thing where I use dark humor to cope with heavy shit, so just pretend like you don’t notice.”

The conversation with Kaylah in Vegas returns to the forefront of your mind, and you start to feel bad for opening the door for Jadah to have to revisit a clearly painful past. But before you can protest, she starts sharing.

“Joe and I met in college. I was 20, going on 21, and he was 22. He was playing football, I played soccer. I thought he was attractive and vice versa. We had a class together, and I approached him first. Next thing I know, we’re fuck buddies. It wasn’t romantic. We didn’t go on dates. He didn’t want that, and neither did I. It was just sex.” She says it so simply, so casually, and for a second, your mind goes towards comparisons. That’s kind of similar to how it was with you and Joe at the beginning. Just all about sex.

“Well, like two dumb college kids, we were having unprotected sex, and we both know what can happen there. I ended up getting pregnant. And this….this is where shit gets bad, because both his family and my family were of the belief that because we were having a child together that we should get married, so guess what we did?” She rolls her eyes, leaning back into the sofa. “I think that might have been our first mistake.”

A mistake….

Joe has also made a comment at least once or twice insinuating he viewed the marriage as a mistake. Had stated they initially married for the wrong reasons, and hearing the full story, you sort of agree. 

It’s such an outdated belief that two people need to be married in order to have a child.

“We did it, we got married. My family is in real estate, so we moved into an apartment they owned off campus and prepared for the baby. That was really the only time we talked and interacted. When it had something to do with the baby. And looking back on that, I can see now that even if we wanted it to work, it wouldn’t have. I felt nothing for him outside of the fact that we were having a baby together, and I know he would say the same because we discussed as such when we finally decided to get divorced. But, I’m jumping ahead of myself.”

Slowing down would be wonderful, because this is a lot for you to take in and digest. Jadah sounds like she’s essentially stating she never loved Joe, never had feelings for him. And it seems like he felt the same way, like they were only trying to make it work for the sake of the baby and their families.

She’s quiet for a second, and you already know the next thing that’s about to come out of her mouth. “There’s—there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” Another pause. “We lost the baby. I–I had a stillbirth. I was just about 8 months along. I—grief is so damn weird, because some days I’m okay, and then others, I feel like it just happened.”

Shaking your head, you advise gently, “Jadah, you don’t—”

She lifts her hand, stopping you as she explains, “today….today is an okay day. I’m….I’m good.” And you hope, for her sake, that she’s being honest with both you and herself. The last thing you want is to unintentionally trigger her. “We coped the only way we knew how at the time: avoiding each other and having sex when we weren’t avoiding each other. Both of which were unhealthy, one of which resulted in me getting pregnant again. But, I—I ended up miscarrying.”

That….that you especially weren’t expecting to hear. The loss of one child seems unfathomable, but the loss of two children is just so wrong. Like, it shouldn’t be allowed to happen. No one deserves to experience that kind of grief, and while your heart aches for Jadah, it’s hard not to think mostly about Joe.

To think about how that kind of experience had to have torn him up. How could it have not?

“After that miscarriage is when we tried to make things work, tried to actually be a real couple. It was mostly on my end but also that loss was the first time we actually tried to heal together instead of separate. I did most of the initiating, and I can be honest with myself now in admitting it was mostly because I wanted to try again. I wanted to try to have another child.” Her attention is mostly focused on her lap as she recalls what had to have been one of the most difficult times in her life. “Through therapy, I learned that I thought if I could finally just have a child, my grief would go away. Obviously, that’s not how that works, and I learned the hard way because I did get pregnant again, but I….I also ended up miscarrying again.” 

Words. There are none to properly describe what’s going through your head right now, the emotions all circulating throughout your entire body. Tears brim your eyes listening to this heartbreak. You have such a tremendous amount of compassion and sympathy for the woman sitting across from you.

For the man not before you currently but you’d give anything to be able to hold and hug right now. You had no idea he’s been through so much, lost so much, and yet he still stands tall, forever being your backbone.

Being your saving grace. 

“That was the last time Joe and I were ever intimate,” she continues, dabbing at her eyes. “He refused to touch me unless I got on birth control. Said he didn’t want to see me go through that anymore, and I believe him. But, I also don’t think he could handle another loss either.”

You’re not sure anyone could handle that kind of loss a fourth time. 

“I was the one who cheated first, but it’s hard to call it that when I nor Joe ever really saw our marriage as real. It was legal, yes, but he never loved me, and I never loved him. We had love for each other, but we weren’t in love with each other. And I think the little we did feel was because of our shared losses.”

This almost feels like a discussion that needed to happen in separate sessions, because it’s so much to take in. You’d always wondered about this marriage, wondered what the real story was, but hearing that real story almost has you wishing you would have never asked. It’s just all so heavy.

“And then he started becoming more famous and up there in the WWE. I don’t need to tell you how crazy his schedule can be. I barely ever saw him. We essentially became roommates. He did his thing and who he wanted, while I did my thing and who I wanted.”

It’s hard on you hearing all this, for obvious reasons, but there’s also a part of you that is grieving for different reasons. Grieving what maybe you and Joe could have been if you knew all of this. Knew his wife wasn’t the high school sweetheart turned wife, knew he wasn’t going home and playing house when he wasn’t in your bed. You always just assumed this was the case, the few times you even allowed yourself to think about him being married. It was more toward the end of your relationship as you realized you needed to start being honest with yourself about your relationship with him.

“I know for a fact Joe never initiated a divorce because he felt like it was wrong. Like it was wrong for him to leave me because I couldn’t give him what he wanted, a family. I can’t speak for him, but I’d bet that’s why he didn’t divorce me even when he met you. Because he’s a good man who still felt a sense of loyalty to me because I had tried to give him a child. I just….I couldn’t.”

Your chest tightens at her words. Did she just….. “Joe wanted kids?”

Jadah is quick with the response, reiterating. “He always wanted to be a dad. Even with our first pregnancy, we were both nervous and young, but he told me that he wanted a big family because he came from one.”

It’s getting harder and harder to keep the tears at bay. You hadn’t the slightest clue fatherhood was something Joe always envisioned for himself, something he always wanted. It makes sense, it makes all the sense now why he reacted so strongly as he did when he found out about Callie. The way he looked at you with such love and appreciation on Christmas when you apologized for not getting him anything, the way his eyes fell on Callie is he calmly told you that you already did.

A child. 

You’d given him a child, something he always wanted but could never have.

Shaking your head, you admit aloud but gently, “I didn’t—I didn’t know that.”

“Do you know what Joe told me when we finally realized we needed to just file?” She doesn’t wait for a response, most likely already knowing what your answer will be. “He said he was never supposed to be with me, because he was always supposed to be with you.” A tiny gasp leaves your mouth. “And he’s right. Joe never spoke about me the way he speaks about you, the way his eyes light up, the smile on his face…... He was never in love with me, because his heart was always supposed to be with you.” Any effort to refrain from crying is null and void. “And I’m happy for him. I truly am. I couldn’t give him what he wanted, and that’s okay, because you have.”

Her comforting you is the last thing that should be happening, but it’s exactly what occurs. She reaches over, placing her hand on top of yours.

“Y/N. I don’t hate you. I don’t think you’re a whore who ruined my marriage. That marriage was a sham from the beginning. If anything, I was more upset at you when Joe told me about Calista. I was upset because I wish you had told him from the beginning that you were pregnant. We could have gotten divorced sooner, and he could have finally experienced fatherhood. I could have finally figured out what I want in life.”

Sniffling, wiping at your eyes, “All this time…..I thought that I had been that woman, that I took him from you. That’s why I didn’t tell him about Callie, I thought—I felt like it was wrong, wrong because he was married.” It’s that along with your unaddressed daddy issues, that whole trauma, but while Jadah is relatively open with you about her struggles. You’re just not there yet.

“You can’t take what never belonged to me. I’m able to admit now that I never had Joe, and to be honest with you, I never really wanted him.” She frowns almost, continuing to share more with you than you ever expected her to share. “I wanted to do humanitarian work after college, and I didn’t do that because I was too busy living my life the way everyone said I should. I don’t blame Joe either. I guess I just wish all three of us didn’t have to wait so long to finally have what we wanted.”

In a strange sort of sense, all three of you are victims of some type of circumstances, different in various ways but still victims. 

“Are you….are you happy, Jadah?”

In all that you’ve heard her divulge, a no wouldn’t surprise you. She’s such a strong woman, but in the midst of all this, you getting Joe, Joe having you, where’s her happy ending?

“I’m bisexual.” It’s such a strange first initial response, one that you’re not sure how to reply to or take. Not that you’re judging at all. Good for fucking her. But, where is the relevance?  “It’s not a secret, either. I’ve been out since I was in middle school, but I’ve been in a relationship with this amazing woman for almost a year now, and it’s with her I’ve realized I just tend to form deeper connections with women than men. Especially emotionally. It’s gotta be why I never felt anything for Joe, because we both know that man is objectively gorgeous, insanely sweet, and the D is fire.”

That makes you laugh, the first in the midst of this heartfelt conversation. “You’re not wrong about that.”

“But, she’s amazing, and we’re so happy, so yes, I am more than happy.” Her eyes light up the same way you’re certain she’s seen with Joe when he talks about you. “But, you know what will make me happier?” She announces with attitude and determination. “Getting on Live together and blowing up this bitch whole spot.”

Another laugh that’s followed up with. “I’d rather beat her ass, but this is second best.”

“I mean, we can do that too. I don’t really know how to fight, but I’ll cheer for you on the side.” 

There’s more laughter as you realize Jadah has that dry sense of humor that can have you dubbed over in tears from the humor, meanwhile she’s got a straight face the whole time. 

“I wish, but I can’t be fighting in my condition.”

It leaves your mouth before you even realize what you’re basically confirming, and before you can freak out, scolding yourself for being so insensitive, Jadah is already two steps ahead.

“Seriously? Congratulations!” Her smile is just as genuine and happy as all the outdoors, as she explains. “Y/N, just because I can’t have kids doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for people who can. I know Joe must be over the moon happy.”

“He is,” you answer with a matching smile, hand going to your stomach. “I’m really happy I got to meet you, Jadah. I think….I think we both needed this.”

There was something so healing about all of this, some sense of solace and closure that feels like it’s been provided for the both of you. Her being able to talk this out and be honest about her feelings, and you learning that maybe, just maybe, your relationship with Joe was never wrong in the first place.

Because it was always supposed to be.

“I agree.” She squeezes her hand. “Now, let’s get started on our strategy for this Live, cause I’m ready to shut that ex best friend of yours fifteen minutes of fame down.”

———-

In another life, you and Jadah could have been the best of friends. 

There’s such an ease that comes with talking to her. Not only is she just as laid back as Joe promised, but the bitch is funny as hell. The strategizing your game plan for the Live is filled with her dry humor that almost has you in tears at one point. And it amazes you how someone who’s been through so much can still find it in her to laugh, to still be filled with so much joy.

It’s admirable. 

And maybe there’s a way where you can be friends of some sort, because there’s truly no ill feelings towards her on your end. You’re also almost certain it’s the same for her as well, but right now, the focus is on this Live. 

Well, sort of.

“I definitely think the cool tones will really compliment the white theme of the house. You guys don’t plan to paint, right?”

Joe never mentioned that Jadah is an interior designer, not that he needed or even had a reason to, but it definitely comes in handy considering you have this big ass house to decorate without a lick of knowledge about decorating. 

It didn’t take long to figure out how you’re going to tackle the Live, and you two even got your iPad set up in the kitchen, deciding that’s where you would hold it. She even set up the practice live so you two could familiarize yourself with the layout before actually going live.

So with that out the way, it only took one question from Jadah about designing for her to be assisting you with some options for different rooms in the house.

“No. Joe hasn’t mentioned anything about it.” You then remember. “We are getting a mural painted in Callie’s room. I guess Joe knows someone.”

“Oh, that’s awesome.” She beams, asking, “what’s the mural gonna be?”

Smiling, you answer, “disney. She loves Disney.”

“Y/N…..do you….do you think I could meet her?” She quickly adds, almost as if she’s nervous about even asking in the first place. “I know you probably need to talk to Joe first, but—”

“Of course, you can meet her.” There’s no need to think about it, no need to talk with Joe about it. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to meet her. She’s out with my best friend right now, because I didn’t want her overhearing our Live, but I’d love for you to meet her.”

She seems so moved and appreciative of this. “Thank you.” She motions down the hall, “you don’t happen to have any food, do you?”

Laughing, you answer. “Girl, I was just thinking we need to get this Live done, cause I’m hungry.”

It’s not too surprising on your end. In the past few days, you’ve noticed your appetite increasing, a strange symptom to have so early on in your pregnancy. Annoying, too.

“Well, let’s pig out on snacks, and maybe we can get actual food later,” she suggests. You’re down for that, thinking about asking Alexis to stop and pick something up on her way back to the house with Callie. 

“Sounds good to me.” She then looks around, noticing the speakers located throughout the house. “Do those work?”

Already knowing where she’s headed, you pull out your phone, opening up Spotify and reaching it to her. “What’s the vibe?”

Jadah sucks her teeth, taking the phone. “Girl, you already know.”

She moves her fingers around the screen before music starts to play.

Knuck if you buck boy

Knuck if you buck boy

Knuck if you buck boy

“Oh my god, you taking it way back.” And it’s so appreciated, cause this always has been and always will be your song. It’s aptly appropriate as well.

“We gotta be in the zone.” She’s dancing along the way to the kitchen, tossing you your phone as she walks backwards. “You still remember Princess verse?”

Is water wet? “Don’t play with me.” Making it to the kitchen, you’re barely able to open the cabinet where the snacks are before the verse starts.

Yeah we knuckin' and buckin' and ready to fight

I betcha I'm'a throw dem thangs

So haters best to think twice

Word for word, you don’t miss a beat, and Jadah is right there with you, dancing and playfully twerking to the soundtrack of every middle school fight back in the Y2K era. 

The two of you share a laugh at your silliness as she forages through the cabinet for her preferred snack while you open the goldfish and glance at the iPad. Frowning, you move closer, asking, “why is the screen still on? It’s supposed to be on auto—Jadah?”

She’s distracted, caught between Cheez-Its and Pretzels, answering distractedly. “Yeah?”

“Why does this say we’re live?”

At your question, she answers half-heartedly, “it’s in that practice mode thing, isn’t it?”

That would provide a heavy layer of relief if your eyes didn’t land on the number of the corner of the screen.

The number that reads over 100,000k people are currently watching this live.

“Jadah! It’s fucking live!” She spins around, confused. “Like, we’re on Live!”

“Oh, shit,” she curses, running over and also looking at the screen. “Damn, we are.”

Panicked, you back up to the opposite counter, lecturing, “I thought you said it was in practice mode!”

“I thought it was!” She defends, shrugging and reminding you of her naivety with technology. “You should have never left me in charge in the first place! I haven’t used social media since Tom and I were besties on MySpace!”

“Oh my god.” your hand remains over your mouth as you take in the fact that this thing has just been sitting here, live for the whole wide world to sit and watch.

“I don’t know why there’s so many people here. Were ya’ll just sitting here staring at her fridge?”

“Jadah.”

“It’s a valid question!” She sucks her teeth, pulling out the bar stool and plopping down. “Well, since everyone’s here, we might as well get started.” She reaches for your phone, simply saying “music.”

Believing she’s going to turn off Crime Mob, you hand it to her, but that’s too good to be true. Because instead of silence, you’re hit with Megan Thee Stallion.

I just want to kick this shit off by saying, "Fuck y'all!"

I ain't gotta clear my name on a motherfuckin' thang

“Jadah!”

“I said we were getting started. We need to set the tone.”

“We can’t be playing this kind of music on Joe’s account though.” At least, you think so. You’re not entirely certain what exactly his public image is supposed to exemplify. But, songs about fighting and cussing people out don't seem to align.

However, she waves you off, focusing on the screen. “Hello, everyone, and welcome to this special edition Live. I’m sure most, if not all of you, recognize Y/N, thanks to a basic bitch we’re about to roast alive in this here video.” She gestures to you, and unsure of how exactly to respond or act, you simply offer a sarcastic wave. “But most of you may not know I am because I’m pretty sure there’s only a couple of photos of me online, which is the way I prefer it.” She places one hand on her chest. “I’m Jadah, the infamous ex-wife who apparently hates Y/N and pulled up ready to knuck if you buck, but we’ll get into that later.”

Feeling more comfortable after making active efforts to push away your nerves, you tease, “bet ya’ll didn’t see this one coming.”

Jadah’s face lights up with a mischievous smile. “We figured there’s so much being said about us by this delusional bitch, that it’s time we speak our truth. And I’m just gonna say right now that while we’re doing this to clear up the lies, there are some things we’re not going to touch on because it’s nobody’s business.”

“None of this is really anyone’s business,” you add, the confidence growing by the second. “It’s all really fucked up how we even have to come up here and defend our characters and talk about personal, real life situations. I never wanted any of this, never wanted to have my face be out there, to have my daughter’s face be out there.”

“And that’s the thing, too,” Jadah seems to be feeding off your energy just as much as you’re feeding off hers. “I don’t have any social media at all. I hate it. After today, I don’t plan to ever do anything like this ever again. But, it’s also the fact that people are saying such cruel things about an innocent child that absolutely disgusts me. Like, people are attacking an innocent little girl and saying that it’s in defense of me, which is so insane because none of you know the truth.” She looks over at you, asking, “mind if I start off?”

“No, go ahead, please.”

“Bet.” She claps and announces. “I’m gonna keep this super easy for all of ya’ll. First things first, I have never spoken to that Mariah person a day in my life. Have zero clue who she is. The texts? Never happened. Phone calls? Never happened. Screenshots of said messages? Never fucking happend. Why?” Jadah makes a triangle over her mouth so her voice projects. “Because I don’t fucking know her!”

“More facts: Joe and I were married, yes. We got married when we were like 21 and 22 because I was pregnant, and that’s when people still believed children could only be raised by married couples. That’s the only reason I married that man. We were never in love. Never even dated. We were just horny college kids who didn’t use protection.” 

As strange as it may be, you can tell there’s a bit of hesitation on Jadah’s end before she goes into the next part. “We, unfortunately, lost that child. And experienced some other forms of loss that I won’t get into because it’s very personal, but to make a long story short, we ended up having an arrangement. Essentially, he did what and who he wanted, and I did the same.” 

She pushes some of her hair back, continuing to explain bits and pieces that are still true but protect her from having to lay out her darkest experiences. “I don’t even consider it an open marriage, because outside of us legally being married, we never had an actual marriage. As most of you already know, professional wrestlers have insane schedules, so when I tell you he was at the crib maybe a month out of the year? I’m not even exaggerating. That man was my platonic roommate.”

There’s a small smile on your face as her humor and sass melt into her delivery after carefully maneuvering around the specifics of her personal loss. “Ya’ll are all up in arms, coming after this girl talking about she broke up my marriage, blah blah blah. But, she couldn’t break up what didn’t exist. I never loved that man. Joe is a great guy, but we never loved each other.” She gestures to you with her thumb. “This is who he loves. This is who he has a family with. And the fact that ya’ll can sit there and claim to support him and be a fan while attacking the people he loves blows my mind.”

“So, it goes without saying, Mariah lied her ass off about all of that for clicks and views. She’s a liar. And you can print that in your tabloids.”

“I also wanna clear up some things about her if that’s cool with you?” Jadah nods, and motions for you to have the figurative floor. “I need people to understand that this is somebody who I thought was my best friend, who I’ve called a best friend since I was in kindergarten. Matter of fact, we met because some boy was picking on her, and I went up and pushed him, standing up for her. I’ve always prided myself on being a loyal friend, especially to her. So for her to do all that she’s done to me has been so fucking hurtful and confusing.”

“I found out that she’s been sleeping with my very first boyfriend, the boy I lost my virginity to and dated on and off up until I was in my mid-twenties behind my back since we were teenagers.” You have no intention of stooping to Mariah’s level, but if she wants to lay out your information for public scrutiny, then you damn sure can make sure they know just who they’re believing. Know her character, or lack thereof. “Mind you, he ain’t shit either and he can go fuck himself just as much as she can. Like, it takes two, but here I am calling this girl my best friend, crying and confiding in her about all he’s putting me through, and the whole time she’s fucking him behind my back.”

“That’s so foul.” Jadah looks just as disgusted as you feel just thinking and talking about it. 

“But you know what? As fucked up as that is, that part is well with my soul because I have a man who treats me so damn good, a beautiful daughter, and a loving, supportive family. So, that’s fine. What really fucks with me though, still—” There’s an unplanned pause as emotions get the best of you, just revisiting this subject. “Fuck, I said I wasn’t gonna cry.” Taking a deep breath, you do your best to continue without breaking down in front of the whole damn internet. “What gets me is that this girl who I considered a sister, who I literally made the legal godmother of my child, called DCFS on me, made up horrific lies and stated my child was in immediate danger—”

“Oh my god—”

“They took my baby away from me and placed her with my mother, so I legally could not have any contact with my child or my mom for three days. And that may not seem like a lot of time to ya’ll, but I love my child. She’s very attached to me, and I’m kinda the same. So those three days were torture. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t keep anything down, my chest hurt. I had to hire a lawyer, be interrogated like I’m some criminal. It was awful.” Your attempts to hold back the tears failed epically, and Jadah’s hand is on the small of your back, rubbing in a comforting motion. “And now she’s sold all these personal photos and videos of my daughter to the highest bidder, so now I worry about what kind of fucking disgusting perverts now have access to them. It’s been fucking hell dealing with girl. You all have no idea.”

Up until this point, you’ve made an active, concerted effort to keep your eyes away from the comments, not wanting to lash out or be unintentionally triggered. But, an accidental glance reveals a slew of incoming comments including hearts of all colors. 

It’s then you can’t help but to read a few, also needing to get your shit together. Crying on the internet is something you used to make fun of people for. Now, you’re in the same position.

The comments are a complete 180 from the last time you decided to torture yourself by viewing the public’s general opinion on you. 

There’s a tremendous amount of sympathy, support, and newfound understanding. For both you and Jadah, though, the majority of them seem to be aimed towards you.

A lot of apologies as well.

“And this is the kind of person you all have been deceived by. The only thing she was truthful about is that yes, I met Joe because of her. She won a contest years ago that gave her tickets and backstage passes to a Smackdown show, so she invited me, and I met him that night.” That’s probably the only thing you could ever be grateful to Mariah about, the fact that her letting you be her plus one resulted in you meeting the love of your life. “But, I’m not a whore. Not a golddigger. I’m very intelligent. I got nearly a perfect score on my ACT and my SAT back in high school. I was student body president, homecoming queen, prom queen. You look up Ms. Popularity, and you’ll see my fucking face. I have a bachelor's degree in education, I’m a licensed teacher in my state. Like, I don’t need attention from strangers nor do I want it.”

“And here’s the thing, my daughter is almost five, so I’ve been in the picture. If I was this big attention whore like she says I am, why have I not gone public or made my presence known? The only reason ya’ll even know who I am now is because I was essentially outed, but I don’t want this shit. Joe is famous. Not me. I don’t want that. I just want to live in peace and privacy with my family. That’s all.”

It’s a bit of playing with the truth, insinuating that you’ve been in Joe’s life consistently the past five years, but that’s one of the parts of this that doesn’t need to be shared on the world wide web. 

“We black and educated excellence over here. We don’t need validation from strangers.” Jadah says it better than you can as you continue to blot at your eyes, grateful the tears are drying up. “We need some church in here to lift the spirits.”

“Oh, Lord, what are you going to play now? We are about to get Joe’s account banned.”

She clicks around on your phone before the song starts playing.

We lift our hands in the sanctuary.

We lift our hands to give You the glory.

“You’re so stupid.” This laughter is so good for your soul, it’s the most you’ve done in such a short span in a while. And it feels good. “But why would you pick this damn song, knowing good and well it never ends.” Reaching for the goldfish bag on the island, you open and grab a few. 

“Y/N! Why are you eating? We are in church.”

You give her that ‘girl, please’ look, justifying. “Girl, I’m hungry. It’s snack time, shit.” You’re craving more than a snack, more like a full course meal, but Callie’s snacks will have to do for now.

“Now you’re cussing in church. Don’t drag me to hell with you, whore.” She leans closer into the phone, taunting, “you liked that one, didn’t you, Mariah?”

You almost spit out your food. “Jadah!”

“What? You are a whore. That’s why I pulled up at your house blasting Sideline Hoe by Monica in my 2007 Toyota Camry, wearing my Baby Phat bomber jacket to fight you that one day.” At this point, you’re about to piss on yourself. Jadah’s sense of humor is golden, because she’s saying all this with such a straight face. Never once breaking scene. 

You decide to play along, correcting. “No, it was The Boy Is Mine, remember?”

She snaps her finger. “That’s right. My bad. And then the second fight, it was Jolene. I played that when I snuck in your hospital room at Grey Sloan and caught you flirting with Dr. McDreamy.”

Turning your head, you try your best to hold in your laughter, but it’s impossible. 

And Jadah also breaks a bit, speaking to the phone and viewers. “You see how ridiculous and stupid this all sounds? That’s exactly how stupid majority of the shit that came out of Mariah’s mouth is. I literally just met Y/N for the first time today, this morning. And as ya’ll can clearly see, we good over here. She got her man. I have a wonderful, beautiful girlfriend. Stop being so invested in lives you don’t live.”

You start to add something else when Jadah interjects, “and let me just say this, cause I saw some people having the audacity to say this girl is ugly. Ugly where? The bitch is gorgeous. Look at her!” She gestures to you, adding, “she’s stacked in the front, and it’s sitting in the back. Shit, I would hit that too.”

“Girl, you better stop before they start making up rumors and shit about us all being poly.” Snickering at just the thought alone of that being the latest on the rumor mill, you jokingly coin it prematurely. “Roman’s Harem.”

“Roman’s Hoe House,” she suggests, and you’re nearly in tears from laughter. This bitch is hilarious. “Plot twist, everyone. This was all a publicity stunt for a new season of Flavor of Love featuring Roman Reigns.”

“Jadah, oh my god, stop.”

She lifts her hands to silence you as you lay your head on her shoulder, laughing your ass off. “We will be taking applications following this Live. If you are a woman of color with ass and boobs, please apply. Slim thick girls, ya’ll can apply too with the understanding your chances are a bit slimmer. No pun intended. Skinny girls….maybe try the Bachelor or something.”

“Jadah, you are a menace.” You are dying for her to meet Alexis. They seem very similar in a lot of ways, and it seems like they’d vibe well. Hopefully.

“Y/N, please, I am trying to build recruits for the harem.” She finally cracks, shaking her head and leaning forward to read some of the comments. She then asks you, “should we answer questions?”

That’s an easy pass, though you also know this is your one chance to really show who you actually are versus who you’ve been painted out to be. “Sure. A couple.”

Jadah gets to reading, “uhhhh, okay this one is tame. What’s the sexiest thing about Roman?”

“Jadah, how is that tame?”

“You should have seen the other one,” she mutters. Something tells you that it’s better you didn’t.

“All of him. That’s such a generic, basic answer, but it’s the truth. He’s the full package. Tall, handsome, amazing body. Insanely kind.” Big dick, not that that needs to be shared with the whole world. “I will say though, like, seeing him parent our daughter, how good and patient he is with her. That is immensely attractive. Him being such an amazing dad and partner. That shit is sexy. If you’re grown, you agree with me.”

“You better be grown if you’re watching this Live.” She’s not entirely wrong. Jadah then reads the next one. “What’s something most people don’t know about Roman?”

Looking over at Jadah, you ask, “do you wanna….”

Immediately, she’s shaking her head, admitting, “I don’t know him well enough to really speak on that. Like, we knew each other better in college, but obviously who we were in college is vastly different than who we are now.”

It really does stump you to hear her say that aloud, not that it upsets you, but just the mere fact that you spent so long viewing her relationship with Joe in one way, but in actuality, they were more strangers than anything. 

Strangers only bonded by loss.

“Ummm, a lot, actually.” You finally answer, trying to figure out how or even what to share. “He’s actually very quiet, like, borderline shy. At least when you first meet him. Once he warms up, you see more of his personality. But yeah, it’s fascinating how well Joe encapsulates Roman cause they’re totally different people.” You glance at Jadah, murmuring, “maybe one more.” 

This Live has gone on long enough, and you feel that you and Jadah touched on all the points you wanted and needed to address.

She nods, clearly searching for a good final one. A couple seconds later, she reads aloud. “What’s one thing you’d like to say to Roman’s fans?”

Damn. 

What a final question.

There’s a couple seconds you utilize to gather your words, wanting to articulate effectively and clearly. “That regardless of how you feel about me, please don’t let that change how you viewed him before you even found out I existed. Joe—sorry—Roman, no, fuck that. Joe is so damn passionate about what he does, his work is everything to him, and he does it like he does everything else in his life—with full passion and dedication.” Your eyes are starting to water again from unexpected emotionality. “I’m so proud of him and all he’s done and accomplished, and I know it’s just the beginning, so I’d love for you to continue to support him on his journey.”

“Damn.” Jadah mumbles after a minute of silence. “That was deep. We need another song—”

“Jadah, I swear to God, if you play one more song—”

“You’re going to like this one!”

“I think we’re just about finished anyway.” It’s not a think. It’s a know. Callie’s been gone long enough. You miss your baby. “What—”

Roman’s theme song plays louder than the previous songs Jadah played, and a smile is instantly on your face. “Okay, you were right.” The two of you vibe for a minute, because your man’s song really is an actual vibe.

“Alright,” Jadah laughs. “You all have been a wonderful crowd now, but we’re hungry, so we’re gonna go eat—what are you thinking?”

“Hmmm, maybe Chinese?”

“Good call.” She then focuses on the screen again. “We’re gonna go pig out, listen to some more amazing music and….yeah.” Jadah grabs you and pulls you right next to her, so you can say something too.

“Thank you for listening to our side, the truth, and please be kind. To everyone. Not just the people you know.”

“And don’t forget to send in your applications for—”

“Jadah!”

[psychhound]

the more i dm vs play other ttrpgs the more frustrated i get with how npcs work in 5e. my game centers around a small town with a recurring cast of npcs, as well as newly introduced npcs each arc that my players frequently adopt, and every time i open my Documents (tone: weary) filled with npcs i just wish 5e npcs were Built Different(tm) to pcs. obviously theres statblocks and stuff you can use but if youre working under the assumption these npcs are Full People who are going to take up space in the pcs lives youre going to be building them like you would a pc and frankly it sucks for a couple reasons

one, if i want to introduce a new batch of npcs of a level that will prove imposing for my pcs to fight, it shouldnt take me 10 hours to make them. two, once the fight is happening it would be great if they didnt have so many abilities and spells that im just hoping and praying i can make them function even a little smartly without grinding the whole fight to a halt every time its a spellcasters turn

and third, which i think deserves its own paragraph(s), i wish npcs didnt have the same set of skills that pcs get

i like trying to give my guys, pcs or npcs alike, pretty high mods on things, bc, you know, good for the game and also big numbers fun. but some skills are either inherently useless for an npc to have, or imply a loss of player agency if i was rolling them

like, charisma skills. deception is really useful for an npc to have, because then pcs have to roll insight against it to learn information. persuasion, however, is not something an npc should really ever roll. if theyre rolling persuasion on a pc, that player is experiencing a loss of agency over how their pc reacts to a request. if theyre rolling it on another npc, youre now just playing dollies with yourself while the pcs watch. if im ever choosing between persuasion and deception for an npc, im always going to give them proficiency in deception even if that makes less sense for their character. same problem for intimidation. either youre telling the pcs how to feel or playing dollies with yourself

stealth and sleight of hand are overall way more helpful for npcs than for pcs who arent rogues. and perception is far more useful for an npc to have than like ... survival. when are your npcs going to be rolling survival? if you have a ranger or ranger-like character whos helping your pcs navigate wilderness then why does it make more sense for them to be rolling survival and potentially mess up something they are meant to be good at, causing potentially unfun complications for your party, than just ... knowing that character can help them navigate, so they do? especially if thats the reason that npc is there?

idk like my players respond very well to the npcs being Full People and i do think theres a level of enjoyment to like. comparing pc and npc stats or players learning what feats an npc took or lore around subclasses but also. also im so miserly and decrepit and my google doc of my four bad guys this arc and their spells is 59 pages long im Tired Save Me

[multifandomlover01]

You Are My Sunshine

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (in mind but it’s not explicit I don’t think)

Key: Y/N = Your (First) Name

WC: ~700

No warnings, this is pure fluff

Summary: End of 1x4; Spencer’s 24th birthday but Spencer talks to and goes on a date with reader instead of JJ (not explicitly anti-JJ, reader simply takes her place)

Ep: 1x4

GIF credit: shivlinagirl

“Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

Gideon began rummaging around in his bag.

“Oh yeah?” Spencer asked, interest piqued.

“I forgot to give it to you at the party.”

Gideon produced a medium sized rectangular package.

“But you don’t give birthday presents.” Spencer said as he slowly took the gift from him.

Gideon said nothing, only looking at Spencer expectantly.

Spencer opened the present, which he could already tell was a book. He was excited. He loved books. And Gideon never gave anyone a birthday present. His excitement turned very quickly to confusion as he completely removed the wrapping.

“I already have this book.” Spencer stated simply.

“I know.”

“Why would you give me a copy of a book you knew I already had?” Spencer’s confusion only grew.

“I didn’t.”

“But-“

“Look at the front cover.”

Spencer did so. He was greeted with: “Property of Doctor Spencer Reid” in big black letters that were in his own handwriting.

“Hey! This is my copy! How did you get this?”

“From your apartment. Sorry.”

“I’m an FBI agent, I think I would know if someone had been in my apartment.”

“So am I. And I think I would be able to make it look like I wasn’t there.”

“Touché. So why’d you get this from my apartment just to give it back to me?”

“Because it happens to be someone’s favorite book.”

“Not mine. While I do appreciate it greatly, there are many other works I prefer to this one.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Then who?” Spencer was confused again.

“The only person who doesn’t consistently interrupt you when you’re talking about things that everyone else interrupts you or just walks away from you for talking about.”

“Y/N?” He looked over his shoulder at you. You were too engrossed in a book to notice.

“Exactly. Go talk to her about it. You ever done that before?”

“Talk to her in general or about the book?”

Gideon chuckled.

“The book.”

“Right. Uh, no. I knew she liked to read as she does so often, but I never knew this was her favorite book.”

“Well now you do. Happy Birthday.”

Spencer smiled.

“What do I say?”

“You always seem to know what to say to her. You seem to be able to talk with her more easily than you can with anybody else.”

Spencer nodded before standing up. He turned to walk towards you. He stopped and turned back.

“How did you know?” Not how he talked to you so easily. Not how he knew what your favorite book was. But how he knew that Spencer liked you.

“How do I know anything?” Gideon shrugged.

“Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

Spencer sat in the seat across the aisle from you, book in hand. He cleared his throat, causing you to look up from my book and in his direction. You smiled.

“Hi.”

“Hi. So, um…Gideon told me that this was your favorite book.”

“Yeah, it is. We had a conversation about books a week or so ago. Did he offer up the information or did you ask?”

“He told me. Is that ok?”

“It’s got you over here talking to me. So, yes, it’s ok.”

“Do you actually like talking to me?” Spencer asked you, looking down at his hands.

“Of course I do.”

“It-it’s just that…no one else seems to.”

“I’d say that’s their loss.”

“You really think that?” Spencer asked, looking back up at you with a hopeful expression.

“Sure I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I find you a very enjoyable person to talk to.” You smiled at him genuinely.

“You don’t find me annoying?”

“No. I like to listen to you talk.”

“Well I guess you are the only one on the team who doesn’t interrupt me.”

“Yeah…I hate when people do that…it’s so rude.”

“Really? Is that why…is that why you sometimes ask me later on what I was talking about?”

You nod.

“So you’re really interested in what I have to say?”

“Yes. I am.” You chuckle as you smile, still baffled as to how he’s not getting it yet that you actually like him and his ramblings.

[ghostboneswrites2]

HELLOOOO :333

since im re-watching twd and im back on season 8, what if Y/n was to get bit aswell but had no intentions of telling daryl? So she makes the most of her remaining days with him until she gets consumed by the infection. Kind of like the whole carl thing. thankyou in advance :P

hi angsty anon sorry for the wait I love this req so much 💕

Last Man Standing

Warnings: TWD typical violence, death, grief, mentions of sex

dividers from @sister-lucifer

Gratitude could be hard to come by. You’d think it would be bountiful in a world where a simple meal could be considered a luxury. With all the carnage and loss, it was easy to forget that there were still things worth being thankful for, but today you were grateful. You were grateful often, but especially today.

Today would be the beginning of the end of your life. So, you’d spend the morning with Daryl, drinking instant coffee and complaining about the taste. He’d part for only a short time to shower, offering you to tag along, only to be shot down.

“No thanks, babe. I actually showered last night before you got back.” You’d say in your casual chipper, and he’d believe you, because you never gave him a reason not to. How was he to know what you were hiding beneath your shirt?

After his shower, while you were cleaning up the kitchen for him, he snuck up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and inhaling against your neck. He loved the way you smelled.

With a chuckle, you’d ask him, “All clean?” To which he’d just grunt and squeeze you tighter, pressing you into the counter. You’d spin around, plant your lips on his, while he hoisted you up onto the countertop and stripped you down. The sex was passionate and sweet, never breaking the kiss until you had to get dressed again.

“Do you want to go for a walk with me?” You asked him as you adjusted your bra and fixed your hair.

“Ya sure? Hotter than hell out.” He asked skeptically, knowing how much you loved having a home with an AC.

“Of course I am.” You grinned wide, a smile that shone brighter than your inner turmoil. “It’s the only thing I miss about being on the road. Our walks in the woods.”

A tiny curl appeared at the corner of his lip, a small show of affection he often reserved for you and you alone.

“Get your boots on.” He told you. Once you were both geared up to leave the walls, you went out into the trees and disappeared together.

He picked up quickly on your unusual silence. It wasn’t that a quiet walk was abnormal for the two of you, but you had a habit of pointing out different types of birds and bugs as you strolled. Today you hadn’t done that. Your focus was on the small beams of light that filtered in through the canopy above. Life was so beautiful, and you were determined not to take it for granted in your final hours.

The heat, however, was not so enjoyable. The fever was starting to set in and you knew it would be only a matter of time before your skin went pale and clammy. Your hours were numbered, more than you had anticipated. Of course, you’d seen it happen much faster than this. You were still one of the lucky ones.

When you found a suitable log you took a seat, being sure to control your breathing. He couldn’t see you get winded after such a short walk. He’d know something was up. So, instead of giving him the chance to think about it too much, you decided to distract him.

“Remember when we first met?” You asked. He snorted.

“I remember a psycho comin’ after me with a knife.” He joked.

“I’m my defense, I didn’t know you, and you were in my house.”

“It was a damn gas station in the middle o’ nowhere.” He argued. You giggled.

“Home is where you make it.” You told him.

“Nah. Home is people. The ones who matter.” He corrected. You felt a twinge of pain in your heart. You knew he was referring to you. You were his home, just like he was yours.

“Yeah. But, sometimes…” You trailed off, chewing at your lip anxiously. “Sometimes home is just where you belong. Even if the people that belong there with you aren’t there anymore.”

“Nah.” He shrugged away your sentiments. “My people’s my home an’ if I ain’t got them I ain’t got nothin’.”

You took in a small breath and blinked a few times to avoid tears. It was moments like this that reminded you why you could never tell him. A surge of emotion washed over you. Suddenly you felt dizzy in the heat. Whether it was the infection or the stress, you were visibly pale and short of breath.

“Y’alright?” He asked with concern.

“Yeah.” You breathed with a nod. “It’s just really hot out here.”

“Told ya.” He gloated. “You’re spoiled now.”

He stood and offered you a hand, which you took, and he led you back home.

After some cold water and a small snack, you hadn’t felt much better. You knew it could only be a sign of what was to come, which was surely worse than what you were currently experiencing.

“Damn. That heat really took ya out, huh?” He commented as he refilled your glass of water. You nodded and hummed, somewhat absentmindedly.

“Wanna watch a movie?” You asked him.

“We got movies?” He asked. You laughed.

“Yeah. Not sure which ones but I found some DVDs when we moved in.”

The two of you searched until you found a movie called Pay it Forward. It was about a boy who did a class project in the concept of paying it forward. One good deed for fellow man, paid forward consistently, to make the world better for everyone.

By the end you were in tears, and so was Daryl despite his best efforts to conceal it.

“Kid reminds me o’ you.” He admitted. “Always tryin’ to do right by everyone else.”

“Yeah.” You sighed. All the good deeds you had done, only to die in the end, just like the little boy in the movie. The only difference was that you knew you were going to die.

The sun was beginning to set, and as you went to stand and turn off the TV, you collapsed. The weight of your upright body was too much to bear. It felt as if your bones were being crushed under the weight.

In a panic, Daryl rushed to lift you back into the couch. Your head swayed around, eyes glazed over. Your skin was clammy and drained of color. Your eyes had sunken in and the whites around your irises had yellowed. He took your face in his hands and tried to steady it, looking you in the eyes with a deep concern.

“Y’okay? Hey, look at me. Ya good? You’re scarin’ me.” He begged softly as your tried to focus on him through the blurry vision. “Y/N? Talk to me, baby.” He pleaded again.

When your vision had reduced him to a single figure, you finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, Dar.” You whispered.

“Sorry for what?” He asked with a gentle shake of your shoulders when your head began to droop down again. “Did ya take somethin’? Ya sick? What’s goin’ on?”

“I couldn’t tell you.” You admitted, voice crackling under the weight of fear and agony. It felt like your bones were splintering under your skin, lodging into your flesh like needles. Everything hurt. Everything burned. Everything aches and throbbed and begged for relief.

“Tell me what?!” He begged. “Talk to me. You can tell me anythin’, ya know that!”

“I’m sorry.” You began to cry. It was all finally caving in on you. The terror of becoming a walker, the fear of death and the unknown, the guilt of leaving him behind. “I’m sorry.”

“Y/N..” He whispered, eyes beginning to water.

With nothing left to lose, you hooked your weak fingers under the hem of your shirt and struggled to pull it over your head. Daryl reached to help, but he froze when your ribcage came into view. A deep round bite showed it’s ugly face, bruised and discolored all around. The veins around the wound had turned black. The nasty infection had entered your bloodstream. Hell, even if it hadn’t, it wasn’t like you could amputate and save your life.

A sick feeling crept into his heart and spread over his body. He was nauseated, enraged, devastated. He couldn’t even decipher the range of emotions, and frankly he didn’t have the time to. You were slipping away, like sand falling through his fingers.

“When?” He choked out.

“Yesterday.” You admitted weakly.

“Ya didn’t tell nobody?” He asked in shock.

“I couldn’t. They’d have told you.”

“Why couldn’t ya tell me?” He asked you, but it was too late. Your eyes had fluttered shut. He shook you with a rough desperation. “Y/N, come on. Not now. Talk to me. Open your eyes. Why couldn’t ya tell me? Come on baby. Please.”

He begged and cried as he shook you, pulled you into his arms, tried everything to bring you back. Your body was limp against his. All the strength of a man ripped away from him as he crumpled up on the floor, cradling the love he had lost. He sobbed over you until the heat of the fever had left your flesh and you turned cold. All signs of live had vanished. He pulled away and looked down at you one last time. Scanning every feature, imprinting it into his memory.

Then, he screamed. It was a deep, guttural, primal kind of scream. The kind you only heard from a man who lost everything he loved, or a woman who lost her child. It was filled with agony and despair. He screamed and screamed until neighboring Alexandrians rushed out of their homes and over to your front step. They pounded at the door and called for you and Daryl, overcome with worry for their neighbors.

He couldn’t hear them, though. Not over his own heart, over his own thoughts, his screams and cries. He stood in place and dug his fists into his hair, hoping the pain of tugging at his scalp would distract him from the overwhelming ache in his chest, but it did nothing to soothe him. He paced around your body, hyperventilating, losing touch with himself and the world around him.

His hands found pictures on the walls, furniture, the television, the dishes and decor. His heavy boots echoed as he stormed around and destroyed the reminiscence of his life with you there. He could leave no trace, for he could not bare it. By the time Rick was summoned, the home was completely destroyed. Broken glass and splintered furniture littered the home. Lamps turned sideways, flickering in the dim rooms.

He found you first, a cold half-dressed corpse that he barely recognized amidst the destruction. He found Daryl next, on the kitchen floor, curled up on his side as he sobbed on a bed of broken china and scattered cutlery. Rick could barely recognize him as he laid there, a shell of a man. A man who lost his whole world.

It would be weeks before anyone aside from Rick saw him again. Without Rick to check in on him and talk him into eating or drinking, he likely would have died of malnutrition or dehydration. At least, that would have been the formal cause of death. Everyone would know, though, that he would have died of a broken heart.

Eventually, he emerged from his solitude and found your grave among the others. He’d sit there for hours, reading and rereading the letter you left him, which he only found because it was under the bottle of whiskey you’d both saved for a rainy day.

Daryl,

It’s strange to imagine the final hours of one’s life. It’s even more strange to experience the final hours of your own life, knowing that everything you do, you do for the last time. I suppose I should feel afraid. Oddly enough, I’m sort of finding peace with it.

In retrospect, I was so lucky to make it as far as I have. My survival up until this point largely boils down to the luck of the draw. Right places, right times. Still, though, there were a few times where I lived because someone else died, or because someone was there to save me. There were times where we all lived because we fought like hell and earned the right to survive in this new world.

It is new, by the way. The world we once knew died, but it’s been reborn. I’m grateful to have been part of the beginning of something new, something that might be great. Most of all, I’m grateful to have been a part of it by your side. I’d never change a single thing. Even if I was given the chance to go back and stop the outbreak, I wouldn’t. Because I would have never met you, and had I not, I would have never found my true self. I pretended to be someone else for as long as I can remember. The time I’ve spent with you has felt more natural to me than anything I’ve ever experienced.

You, Daryl, are the most raw, genuine, unfiltered person I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. You showed me how to find that version of myself, and in doing so, you set me free. I might be dying, but I’m dying as my true self, and for that I am thankful.

Despite all that, I know you, and I know nothing I can say will console you the way you need to be consoled. If nothing else, I hope every time you retreat into solitude and shut yourself off from the world, you can hear my voice in the back of your mind. Reminding you to admire the beauty in the natural world, nagging you to go see Carol and get out of your head.

I know you get tired of being the last man standing, but the grief doesn’t have to consume you. You don’t have to be alone. You deserve a happy ending too.

I love you, more than I could ever show you. I hope you can forgive me for leaving you behind. Whatever awaits me on the other side, I hope to find you there one day, after you’ve lived a full life and found a purpose outside of being by my side.

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy @raeraegoaway

[mirandyficlists]

Fic Searches sometimes take Time.

Hey there my Mirandy Dandies hope you're all well.

After a number of particularly noxious Anonymous messages from someone, or possibly several someones, kvetching about oh so many shortcomings with my Tumblr site and my other actions in the fandom as a whole, I felt I needed to make this post to clarify a few things about:

What I do,

What I'm able to do.

What I'm willing to do

The way this platform works...something, bear in mind, that I can't change.

I am a diehard Mirandy Dandy and one of the things I love to do is to SHARE the goodness and to chat about fics whenever I can. Having been a victim of the loss of Angelfire and Geocities when so much amazing fic was lost to us in the Xenaverse and other of my earlier fandoms, when I became a Mirandy Dandy I was not going to see myself in the same limbo and made a point of fully harvesting all fics as they were posted and keeping external copies of my treasures, updated monthly whenever possible. I did this, by the way, from the beginning on LJ to the present and let me tell you, keeping track of and harvesting fics from LJ was not easy and took a hell of a lot of time copying and pasting but I did it to the best of my ability.

The Mirandyverse is now 18 years old (we should all buy us a drink…well in the UK anyway, lol.) and we have people finding the Dark Side every week. Now these newbies and youngsters have often never set foot on LJ, if they’ve even heard of it, some have never set foot on FFnet even not to mention places like Passion & Perfection and the Pink Rabbit Consortium, and therefor have missed out on some great gems and giants of the days when new fics came out thick and fast. Thus the difference between the 3732 fics recorded for DWP on AO3 and the 5422 fics I have listed on my spreadsheet. Added to this the number of fics that have since been deleted or lost in other ways and you end up with the Newbies truly missing out.  And so I try to spread the goodness as best I can and share my harvested treasures when asked, as well as letting the masses know about that on several different platforms.

Because I love the fandom as I do, a significant amount of my time is invested in it, but as with everyone, I have a real 3D life that demands my presence and attention regularly and sometimes exclusively when, well, when shit happens as they say. Add to this my personal disabilities and I sometimes struggle being able to do things and thus have to let some things, like fandoms, slide in order to cope with the day to day. But when I’m better I always come back. And my disabilities can bear good fruit too, in this case my fic Spreadsheets, necessitated for my enjoyment because of my medically induced memory problems but that have been used and enjoyed by the fandom as a whole. Silver linings and all that.

I am always willing to share the Mirandy goodness in anyway I can manage. I LOVE being able to send deleted fics to people who either haven’t read them or aren’t able to access their old favourites because they were deleted. Hence my spreadsheet which keeps track of the existence and whereabouts of about 97% of all Mirandy fics online. And also my Themed Rec lists, now numbering 157 different groupings. All of which assist me in helping out with fic searches which I always try to source whenever they are presented, and that sourcing includes seeking help of other Dandies on different platforms.  Now, just to clarify, none of these things are complete or exhaustive, but I do keep them up to date within the limitations stated above AND try to make sure to share them online at least every couple of years. I don’t mind doing it, it gives me pleasure, but to my nasty Nonnies from earlier and any other Trolls who might be lurking…I AM UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO DO ANY OF THE THINGS I DO FOR THE FANDOM. I do it out of love of the Mirandyverse and the vast, VAST majority of truly wonderful Mirandy Dandies.

Tumblr is, as we who tumble know, both glorious and hideous as far as social networking platforms go, and has always been meddled with by admin for the sake of selling it off and trying to monetize it into oblivion and not to actually improve the functionality for the users in anyway. And that is the arena in which I operate this Tumblr and adapt how I do so in order to accommodate my needs.

So just for your collective FYI specifically regarding Anonymous asked fic searches…

If you have sent an anonymous fic search and have not seen an answer posted for a very long while:        

I am NOT ignoring you.

                                I am NOT ‘being lazy.’   

                                I have NOT deleted your request.            

                                And believe it or not I have NOT forgotten about you.

I check my in box weekly to remind myself of the searches I am still tracking down, so

not getting a response to an Anonymous ask only means I have not yet found your fic, but I am still looking for the fic, when time permits me.

Because you sent an Anonymous ask, if I try to answer it and let you know that I’m still looking for the fic, the ask is removed from my in box and I no longer have it in an easily accessible place to remind myself to continue the search.   So instead, I keep the asks in my in box until I find the fic requested, which lets be honest my Dandies, given some of the descriptions or key points you sometimes give could be one of several thousand fics and it takes some time to sift through, lolol.  If you want to be kept updated on the search progress, then it is much better if you PM me directly so that I can communicate with you.

To finish off I do want to say, ANY Mirandy Dandy is ALWAYS welcome to contact me with asks and questions in what ever way best suits their needs all I ask is that you appreciate any limitations attached to your preferred method and behave accordingly.

The Mirandyverse is generally a stress-free and positive place to be and always has been, and it is my dearest hope that it continues to be a space free from the toxicity that often invades other fandoms.  To that end I will always continue to offer my services to fellow Dandies in a spirit of helpfulness and sheer Joie de Vive.

Long live the Mirandyverse!

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Spencer Reid Masterlist: Fics

In order from Newest to Oldest. Last Updated: 02/26/24

Spencer Reid Series

Key: Personal Favs:✨ Requested:🔹 Angst:🔴 Fluff:🟡 Smut:🟣

You 🔴✨ a small fic inspired by the loss of someone, and how Spencer feels about it.

Truth or Dare 🔹🔴 Request!: "okay so i'm thinking post!prison reid and reader break up bc he's not ready to be in a relationship after everything that happened in prison. they just don't get back together bc when spence is finally ready it's been a while and they both think it's too late and no one makes a move and they remain as friends UNTIL jj's love confession brings some feelings back onto the surface - reader finds out about it and (cue jeid and their weird, longing glances🥲) has a whole it's all really over moment and then there's distance between her and spencer until there's a confrontation about it and BAM a love confession and second chances😁😁"

Lucky Me 🟡 Just a cozy scenario where the reader is a wee bit drunk, and has a phenomenal idea, maybe inspired by a true story or two.

Symphonic Kisses 🟡 You give Spence a pretty damn good anniversary present.

Cold Feet 🔹🟡 Request!: "could u do Spencer Reid and childhood friends fem!reader with heavy pining and " it's always been u" at the end hurt/comfort ?"

Loving You 🔹🟡 Request!: "hiii!! congrats on the 500 followers 🤍 for your celebration, could i request 7 and 13 from the fluff prompts for spencer reid? thanks :]"

Never Let Me Go 🔹🔴 Request!: "hello !! rn i'm in the mood for some angst with a happy ending so can i request something where reader's got really bad abandonment issues? 🥹 maybe they fight over something which makes r leave ++ spence is confused bc it's so sudden n unlike them but it's all bc theyre scared he'll leave first n then it's just lots n lots of reassurance🥹🥹 thank you!!"

Unexpected Visitor 🟡 There are some things that the team does not know about, like you, for example. Some good, quick, Christmas fluff for your holiday enjoyment.

Pope and Circumstance 🔹 🟡 Request!: "Heyyyy!!!! I read that you were taking requests so I was wondering if you could write something for non BAU nerd reader and Spencer. Something sweet and comforting with a reader that’s a nerd but more on the language and literature side."

Birthday Present 🟡 You and Spencer enjoy a night in together.

New Shade of Green 🔹🔴 🟡 Request! "Hey idk if you're taking requests but I'd love to read a fic where Spencer Reid and reader are in established relationship and on a case it happens that reader's best friend since childhood assists. And Spencer gets really jealous of their close friendship but is in denial. A lot of angst but a fluffy ending."

Black Dog 🟡 Mornings with Spencer feel so good. Based on Led Zeppelin's Black Dog.

Cramps n Comfort 🔹🔴 🟡 Request! "Okay, Spencer comforting reader who has really bad period cramps and is just crying"

To Make Sure I Stay Sane 🔴 Based off of Six Below by Flipturn. What happeneds when your cover is blown? What do you do when you can never really recover from the shit you endure? pure angst.

Barbenheimer! 🔹 🟡 Request! "Reader takes Spencer to see Barbie, and he might just enjoy it more than he thinks he will."

Wired Frames 🔹 🟡 Request! "Spencer request: The team meets at a bar after they returning from a case and Spencer comes in looking dramatically different (like a nice new haircut and casual outfit and glasses) and the team / OC lose their minds"

Bad Day 🔹 🟡 Request: "spencer just comforting reader after a bad mental health day and helping them to take a break and shower/or bathe🌼🫶🏻"

Something Old, Something New 🔴 🟡 takes place during S7 Ep1, The Gang goes to court! Lawyer!Reader! Spencer is really over the senate committee, but something cools his head when he bumps into an old friend.

[colleybri]

Cassian x Bix and Rebelcaptain: Please let these ships be friends !

I ‘ship’ Cassian x Bix AND Cassian x Jyn. I see there has been some conflict in the past when the “new woman” was first brought in with the series, some that remains now, and I’m both saddened and bemused by that.

Rebelcaptain for me is a canon relationship… to a certain extent. I have no doubt that these brave heroes would have ended up together had they lived. That’s why I love it… the whole beautiful tragedy of what might have been, and the loyalty that binds people together when making a sacrifice like this. Were they actually in love, in canon? For me – no. Not yet. And that’s important for my personal enjoyment of Rogue One, especially its ending. As the novelisation stresses, Cassian dies without knowing Jyn as “There wasn’t the time”. And I simply don’t believe you can love someone without knowing them . But I enjoy the idea of exploring what would have happened had they lived. They are a perfect loyal “battle couple”, definitely my favourite fanon SW couple and great to imagine together. I see Rebelcaptain also as a way of giving them the happy ending they deserved. Oh - and the chemistry between Felicity Jones and Diego Luna on-screen is absolutely electric. In short and again: I have no doubt that they would have fallen in love had they lived and would have been perfect for each other. And they are a perfect fanon ship.

(^^ And I I think this is the exact moment in canon when they both acknowledge the loss of what might have been. It’s just heartbreakingly beautiful… )

Cassian x Bix - I don’t even think of it as a ‘ship’ per se as it is a 100% canon relationship, and one that is currently ongoing as we wait for Andor S2.. It’s fascinating to me – 17 years of friendship that has occasionally blossomed into a romantic/sexual relationship. It’s a genuinely unusual set up too. I’ve read a few takes that they are “over each other” by the time of the start of the series, to which I want to say … watch again, closely! They certainly have moved on to date different people, but it’s also very clear from their interactions (especially in the intense scene in Ep 7) that there is still a lot of extremely deep feeling between them – even if some of it is very negative. In the S1 production notes, the show’s creator Tony Gilroy says that they “are meant to be together… but it’s been impossible all these years. Now, she’s done with him … he’s burnt every last bridge .” Why? The series also provides the answer – Cassian is in many ways an absolute mess at the start of the season and Bix was quite rightly fed up with him as a boyfriend. He’s completely unreliable, likes short-lived affairs (often with married women - so no risk of commitment!), isn’t working regularly and has debts all over the place. This largely stems from his “unresolved childhood trauma”. He has a fear of “leaving people behind” and despite having a lot of love to give “ is so scared of being loved”. But he and Bix nonetheless prove to be incredibly loyal friends and their love in this platonic sense clearly runs very deep indeed. They have known each other since he was 10 so she is also something like a sister figure. Bix is still very protective of Cassian and takes personal risks for him… and he finally comes to appreciate this and pay back his metaphorical debt to her in the finale. The question now is what season 2 holds for them, if anything.

(^^ I love the way she is using her fingertips to push his hand off, as if to avoid the risk of too much touch. The gesture and look that says “Please don’t try and get close to me again because we both know how bad that is for us… but I’m such a total idiot when it comes to you that I will still very unwisely go out of my way to help you, especially when you look at me like that so please just don’t”)

Does loving their messy and complicated relationship mean that I want Cassian and Bix to ‘end up together’ ? No, and the obvious additional point is that they don’t! They are both going to be very different people at the start of S2 and over the following years of the story . Bix has been traumatised; Cassian has been radicalised. And that’s just the start. Perhaps they quickly drift apart. Perhaps some kind of betrayal is involved. Perhaps one or both of them will want to commit again to a relationship, but it’s impossible because of the demands of the rebellion (like Vel /Cinta). Perhaps Bix “ends up with” someone else (Brasso, ideally, especially if they both survive the season). Perhaps they will get back together at least for a while and enjoy a little last happiness before inevitable heartbreak. Perhaps all, some or none of these. But none of that stops me from loving and appreciating what they do have, what they have had up to now, and the intriguing dynamics of when they do interact on screen. Bix x Cassian attracts me as a fanfic ship because it’s all about exploring what is there and how it came to be, which is why I currently don’t write them beyond the present time of series 1. I’m waiting to see what happens next in Canon, as it were, because that to me is an important part of writing them. Meanwhile, I’m enjoying analysing the relationship by imagining them in the past.

So for me Bix x Cassian in no way impacts on Jyn x Cassian or vice versa, especially if you apply… real life principles rather than the ideals of fandoms: “soulmates” and OTPs. Many people – most people – will have a beautifully intense and loving relationship with more than one person at different times of their lives. I’m old – trust me on this one.

^^ Both relationships in these two scenes go way beyond romance. In the first - many years of close and loyal friendship. In the second: a bond created through brave and selfless sacrifice together. And for both: Cassian’s absolute hatred of being “someone who leaves people behind”: the quality that I love best about him. And saving each other. Literally and metaphorically.

And oh… it’s beautiful. Both moments are beautiful.

Edit: I won’t do any speculating here about the content of the sizzle-reel trailers. Except to say that there’s nothing in them that detracts from the emotional power of both ships. They can continue to happily coexist. 

[vidavalor]

👋 Hello! I love your metas and I was hoping you could help me out with something that still confuses me. All the evidence points to Crowley having had his memories taken by Heaven when he Fell, but why? Falling already punishes him and removes him as a threat, the two things which seem to be the purpose in Gabe's case, so what would the point be?

(Did I send this twice? I'm sorry if I sent it twice.)

Hello! :) Hope you're having a great night. I was making stuffing for Thanksgiving earlier so there are apples and hot apple cider for snacks tonight. (Problematic holiday, I know, but I do like the food.)

TWs for memory loss, trauma, PTSD.

I don't actually think that Crowley lost his memories when he Fell to Hell. Like you pointed out in your question when you referenced what The Metatron tried to do to Gabriel before Gabriel outsmarted them, taking memories from angels as punishment for subversion is a way of trying to keep fascist control. It's an attempt at eliminating threats to the social order of Heaven. (So are things like telling angels that they're superior to humanity and that to indulge in any human desires is beneath them, which serves a purpose of keeping them all from going to Earth and realizing how enjoyable being human is and defecting.) I don't actually see any evidence that memory loss is part of the actual Fall to Hell. If that were the case, then the memories of all the demons we've met should be suspect but the only demon we've actually met whose memory is shown to be unreliable is Crowley. We've gotten to know a half-dozen other demons over two seasons fairly well and none of them have problems remembering their times as angels that we've been shown so far. Add in the fact that S2 shows us that angels can lose their memories without being sent to Hell-- like what The Metatron tried to do to Gabriel, as well as what I think is implied happened to Muriel-- and now we have more evidence that a being can lose their memory in Heaven than we do that they lose it when they're sent to Hell.

That suggests to me that Crowley actually had his memories taken from him-- likely more than once-- while he was an angel, prior to his eventual Fall to Hell. It also makes this line make more sense:

Neil Gaiman has called Crowley "an unreliable narrator" regarding his Fall and that's a clever way of putting it, imo, because Crowley, we've come to learn, is an unreliable narrator about his entire existence pre-Fall, in the sense that he can't really remember it. He is unreliable about his Fall because he can't remember what led to it. He knows he asked a lot of questions but he doesn't remember what they were. His Fall was just what they did after they decided his inquisitiveness was irrepressible. I take the "sauntered vaguely downwards" as hinting that he lost his memories more than once and that he knows it. Crowley knows about his past more than he remembers his past, from what we've seen.

He knows he used to make stars and that he helped create gravity and build the universe. He knows some of the nebulae he made. He knows he knew Aziraphale. Knowing isn't the same as remembering, though. We know from his conversation with Gabriel that he's tried to force himself to remember things before and that it's been a very painful-- and not terribly successful-- process. I'd wager he's nearly discorporated himself more than once trying to remember Aziraphale. Most of what he knows about his past is probably what Aziraphale has told him. The rest is a blur of what he calls "looking at where the furniture isn't"-- bits and pieces without the context needed to understand them. If his memory is a room, then his experience with his memories of Heaven are basically I know that chair but... I don't know where I saw it before, if I've really seen it before, what happened the last time I saw it if I did, where it came from, who else knows about the chair, what room the chair is in, where the room is, what is in the empty spaces between the pieces of furniture, what the purpose of the room is, whether or not the chair is really a threat to me and if I can trust it, why the thought of this chair makes me feel the things I feel about it...

That's terrifying, right? That would be terrifying once and I think the fact that he's referred to as persistently asking questions and that he Fell "in the old days" where asking questions "was all you had to do to become a demon" indicates that he was damned to Hell once there eventually was one but, prior to that, he was punished with his memories taken and probably more than once.

Crowley has known nothing before but for the certainty that if he's just around that one, particular angel with the beautiful eyes that everything will be better.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 43

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

The night was nearly perfect. No, it was perfect. Meeting Dr. Miller’s parents and getting insight into their family dynamic was so enjoyable I didn’t want the night to end.

Normally, I couldn’t wait to drag him back to wherever the two of you could be alone. When everyone began to say goodnight after their final drink of the evening, I was actually disappointed. His mother and father were equally witty, both in different ways. She was fiery, he was dry but they complimented one another so well. And hearing an embarrassing story or two from Dr. Miller’s childhood was icing on the cake.

Strolling hand-in-hand with him now that the two of us were alone, however, had my stomach fluttering with those butterflies that just wouldn’t go away. Meeting the Miller family heightened my feelings for Joel.

Joel. Joel. It was Joel. I knew I had to get used to that, and in my mind, finally, I was.

When we got to the door of our room, I put a hand on his chest when the two of us turned instinctively toward one another. I looked down and back up to meet his stare.

“This has been a great night,” I told him. It was quite the understatement. My heart was aching in such a way that I knew I had fallen deeper in love with Dr. Miller. I didn't think that was possible - until tonight. My attachment and fear of loss had heightened, and it suddenly made me all the more frightened to lose them - all of them. Joel, Carol, Will, Chas and Franky. I wanted to be a part of their circle; their family.

“Gotta love those embarrassing stories,” Dr. Miller said with a grin, beginning to put the key card into place to open the door.

“You have a really great family,” I told him, as the door clicked open. He allowed me inside a step ahead of him.

“They are great,” he acknowledged. “I honestly don’t know what I would do without them.”

I smiled up at him and I felt a rush of emotion. It could have made me cry if I allowed myself to indulge in it, but I didn’t. When I pulled Dr. Miller in for a long hug, I closed my eyes. He was my rock.

Dr. Miller cradled the back of my head with his hand and kissed the top of my head. “I really do love you, ya know.”

“I love you, too,” I muffled against him. When I pulled back I looked at him and shook my head, “I’m so scared to lose this.”

“Don’t be.” He shook his head.

“I am.” I shrugged, still attaching myself to him, “I didn’t think it was possible to fall any harder for you, Joel, but it keeps happening. It’s you. It’s your family. It’s this. It’s us.” My eyes met his when all of my thoughts finally manifested into a cluster of fast-paced mini-sentences.

“I understand,” Dr. Miller claimed with a nod, “I do. Believe it or not, I have never felt so attached to somebody in my life. It’s rare that I’ve introduced someone to my mother and father.”

“Really?”

“I know we started off this thing kind of unconventionally,” he acknowledged, “And I know we’ve kind of done things in an order that probably wouldn’t make sense to most people, but I’ve felt connected to you since the first time I saw you.”

I smiled and swallowed hard and looked down. Fuck, I was trying not to cry. I hated crying. Especially in situations like this. When a tear fell, I wiped it away and Dr. Miller hugged me again.

“Everything’s good,” he reminded me, stroking my hair as he held me.

“I know.” I managed a deep breath, never allowing myself to get into a heavy sob. I dried the stray tears that betrayed me and flashed him a genuine smile. “It’s just a lot.. in a really good way that I’m not used to.”

“I get it.”

I knew he did. My hand fell to his face and I just looked at him in such a way that activated his need to kiss me. I could taste the whiskey on his tongue and it was more intoxicating than anything we’d had to drink at the party.

“You taste good,” I whispered against his lips, making him chuckle. I laughed along with him and we locked eyes again for a second before he dove back in, kissing me again.

Dr. Miller’s hands found the backs of my legs and lifted high up, gripping my buttocks on both sides as they rode up my dress. When I felt his fingers grip around the fabric of my lacy thong I bit down on my bottom lip.

He pulled them down with ease, toward my ankles. The heels I wore were still on and I allowed him to pull them off first before tossing my underwear to the floor.

I had grown ten times more confident in my own skin since being with Dr. Miller. I found myself far less than perfect, but he made me feel like a goddess without even trying. Without even thinking, I ducked my arms out of the straps of my dress and shoved it down toward my waist until I bared myself fully to him.

Something about the fact that Dr. Miller was still fully-clothed aroused me. Maybe it reminded me of his school attire and I was somehow associating our current situation with all of my office and classroom-based fantasies I still had for him.

I pulled him by his tie toward me and he wasted no time collapsing his body onto mine on the bed as he made out with me with more force. My legs parted, he made himself home between them and when I felt him reaching for the buckle on his pants I let my head fall back against the pillow in anticipation.

When I felt his bare skin against me as his pants slid off his hips, my arms tightened around his clothed-upper body. I whimpered in his ear when he upped our intimacy to the next level. Never in my life had a man felt so completely like home. My body was his to have as freely as my heart was.

I half-expected Dr. Miller to whisper those perfectly spoken dirty nothings into my ear as he moved methodically on top of me. I loved how naturally they rolled off his tongue. But, instead, he kissed along my collar bone, my neck and the tops of my breasts. It wasn’t aggressive and torrid, the way he often commenced our evenings. Dr. Miller was taking his time, moving inside of me at a slow, toe-curling, pace.

I laid back and enjoyed every inch of him. This is what I needed after a night like tonight; after acknowledging how deep my feelings truly were for him. I didn’t even know how badly I needed it until we were in the middle of it.

Dr. Miller pushed back onto his knees, still clad in his shirt and tie, and stared down at me as he held the outsides of my hips. I thought he was in full control until he stopped mid-thrust and closed his eyes, resting his hands on my bent knees. He let out a deep breath and tried to compose himself.

When I felt him exit my body, I whined a little groan of disapproval. Despite him being on the verge of finishing, he managed a smile, still keeping his eyes closed. I giggled out loud and then reached for his tie again, guiding just his lips back to mine.

“I need a second,” he whispered, as his body slowly laid back down on top of mine. Dr. Miller pecked my lips several times in a row.

“Just kiss me then,” I begged, running my hands up the back of his shirt to feel him.

Dr. Miller wrestled with his tie, and I could see it was buying himself the time he needed; the perfect momentary distraction. He got it undone and pulled the shirt up and over his head, before towing the blankets up over us as he tossed it to the side.

With both hands he grabbed my face and kissed me again. The mid-love making foreplay left my body craving him even more. Kissing him, touching him, feeling his unveiled body colliding with mine beneath the covers was my own personal definition of ecstasy. It left me as putty in his hands to mold however he wished when he finally connected himself to me once more.

I was grateful that he had ditched his shirt so I could hold him properly. I hugged Dr. Miller’s body to mine. The warmth that radiated out of him and that scent of the Old Fashioned that still lingered somehow added to the experience

My eyes never opened. I let the rest of my senses take control and didn’t hold back how he was making me feel.

“Dr. Miller,” I whimpered as he finally surpassed the gentle threshold and bit down on my neck.

“Call me Joel,” he whispered back. It was the opposite of what he’d demanded in the past.

My arms tightened around him. “I will after I come,” I whispered again.

“Mmm..” Dr. Miller grabbed my face a little rougher now and we fought for dominance as we made out. I felt him pick up the pace, like the animal had been released from that one sentence.

He had primed me perfectly for this. The buildup was there. My insides were on fire and I knew that any of his thrusts could push me over the edge at any given moment. I held him hard, his erratic breaths landed on my neck.

“Come for me,” he begged in my ear, whispering directly against it as his body lurched forward in rapid succession.

I felt the impending explosion. Thrust after thrust I was closer. I whined. I whimpered. I moaned. Each time he begged me to let it out, and my inhibitions lowered as my orgasm began to creep in.

“Fuck, Dr. Miller.” I cried out his name and then cursed again as I let myself go to the eruption of pleasure.

“Ohhh, fuck..” He continued to thrust but I knew he was coming from how loud he groaned, accompanied by the phrase I’d grown to lust and love, “Ohh… good girl. Fuck. You’re so good.” He came as hard as I did, pumping into me a final series of times as I dug my fingers into his upper back and held him hard against me.

We both breathed heavily as we writhed in the aftermath of our simultaneous orgasms. I hummed a moan into his ear and he let his head fall against the pillow as his body went limp on top of me.

I kissed the top of his shoulder lazily and then let my head fall back again. “Mmm..”

“Mmm..” Dr. Miller echoed. He kissed my cheek and I smiled, still hugging him against me with no intention of letting go. “I’m tempted to just quit my job and use all my money to take you away to some tropical island and just.. drink fruity drinks and do this with you six times a day for the rest of our lives.”

I smiled and moaned again quietly as Dr. Miller began to gently kiss my neck. “Don’t tease me.” I let out a little laugh.

“Mmm..” He planted a long, closed-mouth kiss on my lips. “I’m in this for the long haul, ya know.”

I opened my eyes and looked up as his flickered open at the same time. “You mean that?” I honestly don’t know why I asked that, but a part of me wanted to hear him say it again. It was misplaced insecurity because of how overwhelmingly perfect our situation felt.

“Yeah.” Dr. Miller gave a nod. His eyes studied mine.

“So am I,” I said back, “If you’ll have me.”

“Again and again.” He peppered my lips as he spoke, “And again.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandojojo @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

[delzinrowe]

Aftermath - Kento Nanami

WORD COUNT: ~4.2K WARNINGS: Some minor & major alterations to Shibuya Arc! No Culling Games in this fic. Otherwise no serious warnings. F!Reader SUMMARY: Three days after the Shibuya Incident in the midst of the aftermath Y/N is trying to sort out her emotions and deal with what happened. A/N: Feedback is always appreciated! If you want to be tagged in upcoming fics/drabbles, please let me know!!! Thank you, and enjoy <3 Considering there are alterations to Shibuya: PLEASE, keep your replies/comments spoiler free, to ensure the unaltered enjoyment of other readers. Thank you!

Curses had claimed Shibuya. Half the district was gone, reduced to ashes and debris. Thousands of human lives were eradicated, leaving nothing but pain and emptiness in the hearts of those who miraculously survived the tragedy.

The remaining sorcerers tried their best to evacuate those who lived too close to the newly created wastelands of Tokyo. There was no telling how long it would take to get rid of all the curses, if that was even possible. Therefore saving and protecting all non-sorcerers had priority.

Within record time Y/N had scouted through the rackages in search of any survivors and brought them to Shoko for treatment. It was a tiring task, not only physically but mentally. Seeing the devastating destruction caused by Sukuna, Kenjaku and the countless curses truly took a toll on everyone.

All it took was a few hours to save all the survivors. But this small win was overshadowed by the carnage left behind. Every sorcerer had returned to the Tokyo Jujutsu High grounds, even the ones from Kyoto decided to stay. Considering the immediate threat posed by the countless curses roaming the streets it was the most logical decision for everyone to stay and aid the Tokyo sorcerers.

Many of the sorcerers made it their daily mission to eradicate as many curses as they possibly could, it was their way of dealing with the losses. Among those was Y/N. After the incident she focused all her attention on the vile creatures, spending every minute on the battlefield. As one of the teachers at Jujutsu High she had always made it her priority to keep everyone safe. If going on a rampage and killing curses left and right was the only way for her to ensure no one else would be hurt, so be it.

Just after killing the last of the evil spirits in front of her she fell to her knees. The exhaustion of the past few days took over her body, but she fought against it.

“You can’t keep going like this, Y/N.” Nanami Kento’s voice sounded from a bit further away, as his feet slowly carried him closer to her kneeling form. The blonde sorcerer seemed exhausted as well, carrying scars and injuries from the massacre days ago.

“Sure I can. I have to.” She responded, but her words didn’t hold as much strength as she had intended. And when she stood up she realised how much her body trembled.

“When was the last time you slept?” He inquired with this slightly disappointing tone that made her feel aggravated all too quickly.

“For your information I slept last night.” By now he was standing before her, watching with eagle eyes as she brushed the dirt off her clothes.

“How many hours?” His question earned him an eye-roll in response. Why did he feel the need to act like this right now when he knew the current situation better than anyone.

She refrained from answering, knowing fully well that in her agitated state she might say something spiteful or mean that she’d regret later on.

“You cannot keep this up.” His voice now held a more stern tone as he tried desperately to get through to her. However, the more he tried to reason with her the more she resisted.

“I’m not a child, Kento, I can take care of myself. Thank you.” She had never raised her voice at him like this before, but his nagging really was not what she needed right now. While she knew that it came from a good place, it fell on deaf ears. She had lost too many people, had watched close friends be slaughtered like pigs in front of her.

“Obviously you can’t!” He yelled back at her when she had already turned on her heel.

“You’re a teacher, don’t you think you should be a role model to your students?” Y/N couldn’t see it but she knew that he wore a pleading expression on his face, simply with the way his voice sounded almost desperate to get through to her.

“I am!” Was all she shouted back at him before walking further away, out of his field of vision. She had to get away from him right now even if she knew that he only meant well.

Didn’t he understand that she needed this? That she needed to exorcize as many curses as she could? That she needed to make these streets safer for everyone?

Nanami knew her better than anyone. And he knew that she needed this, but not ‘to make the streets safer’. Not because Exorcizing curses was the simple job of a sorcerer.

No. Y/N needed this for herself more than anything.

Once she had walked further away, when she was out of earshot, she once more collapsed, physically and mentally. She dropped to her knees, not caring that the tiny stones on the ground would leave marks on her knees even through her pants, and balled her hands into fists. She made no attempts in stopping the tears that started filling her eyes, eventually rolling down her cheeks and dropping onto the ruined ground, which once was a bustling street filled with life.

Minutes passed in which Y/N cried without a care in the word if anyone saw her. The overwhelming guilt she felt caused her chest to tighten and burn as if it was on fire.

“Survivor’s Guilt”, is what Shoko had called it when she patched up Y/N’s injuries. “It’s the belief that you did something wrong by surviving when others didn’t.”, she explained it further. Y/N knew that it wasn’t rational to feel like this, but what did that help when she was convinced on a deeply emotional level that by surviving she truly did do something wrong.

“It’s not fair. So many talented and skilled people died, but I survived. Why? It’s just not fair…” She had argumented, but Shoko was quick to smack the back of her head, effectively capturing her full attention. The healer had made it clear to her that she didn’t survive for nothing, that people still needed her. It was enough to give Y/N at least some mental strength, but as soon as she had left Shoko’s infirmary she fell into the habit of not eating, not sleeping and using all her time to hunt down every cursed spirit she could find.

Y/N wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour, considering the sun was pretty much still at the same spot in the sky. She frankly didn’t care all too much about it either way.

After wiping lazily over her face she finally stood up, skillfully ignoring that her knees felt like dough and her legs trembled. It simply did not matter, she felt as if nothing mattered. At the same time everything mattered.

By now she deeply regretted snapping at Nanami, he was the least person to deserve that. He had always been some sort of role model to Y/N. His moral code in keeping children safe and not letting the youth experience any misery greatly inspired her to become a teacher at Jujutsu High.

She decided to apologise when she saw him next. He’d understand her, she was sure of it. For now she just wanted to get out of here. Her strength was decreasing due to lack of sleep and nutrition. As skilled and talented as she was, she wasn’t arrogant enough to believe she could take on multiple high grade curses in her current status.

Her walk back to the next operating public transportation wasn’t short, giving her plenty of time to think of the exact words she wanted to tell Nanami during her apology and how she’d explain herself. Even though she knew that his maturity wouldn’t expect her to explain anything. He surely knew how she felt. She guessed that he was ridden with the same form of guilt that plagued her mind and heart.

Y/N paid it no mind to the unamused glares and frowns of disapproval she received from strangers on the train. She knew that the blood stains and tears in her clothes were bound to attract the attention of non-sorcerers. Sometimes she’d even jump at the chance to horrify some particularly judgmental bystanders.

“Don’t worry, it’s not my blood.” She’d muse in an assuring tone of voice while showing a smile that seemed far too friendly. Every time, without exception, it would earn a wide-eyed stare.

However, today she was not in the mood to provoke anyone. She settled for mindlessly watching the passing landscape, it was all a blur to her unfocused eyes. Only when the mechanical voice announced the next stop was she ripped out of her thoughts. Due to a quick message she had sent when she stepped into the wagon she was greeted with Ijichi’s soft smile.

The tone between the two had always been kind and casual, almost friendly, which was something Y/N deeply appreciated. Other assistants sometimes didn’t dare to pursue a friendship with sorcerers, especially higher grades. They claimed it was due to professionalism, but the truth was that the assistants didn’t want to get attached to someone who’d end up dying well before their time.

Ijichi, in his gentlemanly behaviour, held open the car door for Y/N. Behind his nervous smile was a wave of worry when he glanced at the countless cuts and bruises that littered her body. The dried up blood as well as the torn clothes only added to his inner turmoil. Yet, every time he brought up his concerns for her wellbeing she shot him down with a lazy attempt at reassurance. It never worked.

“Has Yuji-kun already talked to you?” He asked with an almost cautious tone after he slipped into the driver’s seat and ignited the engine. Through the rear view mirror he could see how she furrowed her brows in confusion. It was enough of an answer for him.

“He mentioned that he was looking for you.” Ijichi explained further but Y/N only shook her head.

“I’ll find him when I’m at Jujutsu Tech. Thanks for telling me.”

After these words the remainder of the drive was spent in silence. It wasn’t unusual for rides with assistants to be quiet. Most trips with Ijichi however, were spent chatting about missions and the current state of affairs. 

This time the assistant kept quiet. Perhaps because he wasn’t fully well yet either. Shoko had only allowed him to operate the car he was currently driving. Everything else was strictly off limits to prevent him from overworking. A trait shared by seemingly everyone and their mother in the sorcerer society.

The two of them reached the school grounds quickly and while absent-mindedly muttering a “Thank you.” Y/N stepped out of the car, heading straight towards Shoko’s infirmary to get her wounds treated.

The eerie silence in her mind, surrounded by the noise of nature in the form of birds chirping and leaves rustling, were all that filled the air, but not for long. Before she even made it halfway to her destination she was suddenly stopped by a voice yelling her name from a bit further away. It was a voice she had come to know well.

“What’s up, Yuji?” She asked as she turned towards him. The boy stopped a few feet away, despite seemingly running he was barely out of breath.

“Y/L/N-Sensei, you’re not forgetting about later right?” The pink haired boy almost seemed timid and hesitant but Y/N didn’t read into it. There was no reason for something like that at a time like this.

“About the little get-together later? I won’t forget, Yuji.” She had to force a little smile onto her lips as she reassured him. It seemed to be all the young student wanted to talk about as he quickly nodded and shot her a smile, that seemed far too out of place for the mindset she surrounded herself with at the moment, before he turned around and disappeared into the direction he came from.

Y/N didn’t like that Gojo was throwing a get-together at a time like this, just days after a devastating tragedy that caused pain and loss to so many people. Yet, another part of her could understand it somehow. Even though he acted like an idiot at times, she knew his heart was at the right place. She figured quickly that he wanted to bring them all together to strengthen the bond of the remaining sorcerers, ultimately making it easier to rely on each other. Perchance he even had a plan to deal with the curses, and most of all, the curse user formerly known as Geto Suguru.

With all this in her mind she finally made her way to Shoko. The breeze, that was far too warm for this time of the year, went by her without any recognition. All she could do was try not to get lost in her thoughts, her planned apology to Nanami still lingering in the back of her mind.

“You’re looking great again…” Shoko’s voice was filled to the brim with sarcasm.

“Thanks, always a pleasure to see you.” Y/N attempted to respond with the same level of mockery as she rolled her eyes, but her tone sounded more annoyed than anything else.

“Is that why you’re making it a habit to visit every day with new injuries? Y/N, you can’t keep doing that.” It was uncommon for the (now again) heavy smoker to show this level of concern for others. She was well aware that her fellow sorcerers could handle themselves well.

“Damn, I heard that before.” This time Y/N’s words were dripping with sarcasm. There was no ill-will in her voice, but Shoko immediately realised that she had more luck getting through a wall than her patient’s thick skull. With a sigh she simply decided to drop the subject.

Only mere minutes later all of Y/N’s injuries were healed, or at least taken care of and she left Shoko’s infirmary after voicing her gratitude.

“Should I pick you up later, or..?” Y/N didn’t answer the question that was yelled after. She heard it, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it. Why would it matter if Shoko picked her up for the stupid get-together? It came as a surprise that Shoko even cared about one of Gojo’s plans.

The sky had cleared up within the past minutes, allowing the sun to shine down on the scenery and dipping the landscape in a plethora of orange hues. However, the colour spectacle went unnoticed by Y/N, whose feet carried her to her assigned room. Out of courtesy, or rather practicality, the higher-ups had decided to offer the empty dormitories to the remaining few sorcerers. Considering the school was protected by barriers, this served as a means to keep them safe more so than goodwill.

Time passed by quickly, or maybe it didn’t, but Y/N was simply too caught up in her own thoughts. She could feel herself being dragged down once more, spiralling into the depths of her sorrow. She thought that maybe as soon as she reached the room the thoughts would dissipate, but nothing of that sort happened.

Seemingly like a zombie trapped in her own mind she undressed herself, showered, dried herself off and changed into a set of clean clothes. She settled for the only black dress she wore. Taking into account the circumstances it felt fitting to wear black, even if Gojo would possibly find a way to bring colour into everything.

Maybe this get-together was exactly what everyone needed right now. Maybe this was a chance to reconnect and move on. Maybe, just maybe, Gojo’s idea wasn’t too bad.

After checking the clock on her phone for the nth time Y/N to get going. Arriving early was always fashionable, wasn’t it? Besides, she knew that Nanami, as much as he disliked these gatherings, would most probably be there early as well. She’d simply take the time to talk to him and apologise. This way she had a chance of enjoying the rest of the late afternoon, possibly even with Nanami next to her.

And wouldn’t you know it, just like she had predicted, the blonde sorcerer stood outside the venue, glancing at the watch on his wrist. To no one’s surprise he wore the same white suit as always. He likely owned it multiple times to make dressing up in the morning easier, a simple fact she had never cared to think about before. Now it almost seemed hilarious to her. Nonetheless there was a frown on her lips. Knowing that she had to act like a responsible grown up and apologise for her earlier outburst left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Kento! Hey.” She greeted him almost hesitantly, if he noticed the nervousness in her voice he didn’t show it. He simply greeted her back while turning towards her.

“Can I talk to you about earlier this morning?” What a stupid way to have phrased it. Of course she could, she evidently had the ability to do so. Internally she scolded herself instantly over her choice of words.

“If you want to apologise, there’s no need for it, Y/N.” Here he went again, being the ever considerate and thoughtful person she knew him as. The expression on his face was almost soft, something he only showed around a small number of people, which she considered herself lucky to be a part of.

Before she even had the chance to respond to him he spoke up once more, prompted by the uncertainty shown on her features.

“I’m serious. It’s a difficult time for everyone, we’re all on edge. It’s alright.” Nanami uttered with a tone so full of understanding that it almost blew her away. Then again, despite him being the youngest of the adult sorcerers, he had always been the most mature one and the voice of reason.

For a few short minutes a comfortable silence was shared between the two, until Y/N glanced over his white suit and remembered her train of thought from before.

“You decided to keep wearing that same white suit? Don’t you have anything different to wear?” Y/N’s almost playful glance revealed the nature of her words, there was no malice or ill-intent. She prided herself on being the only one who could get him to engage in conversations in a light-hearted manner.

“Why? Don’t you think it looks handsome?” Nanami’s response came quickly, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Oh, it definitely does.” She replied back, unable to help herself from chuckling once more as she saw the slight smile forming on his lips. At this very moment it almost felt like nothing bad had ever happened.

“Y/N, there is one thing you have to do for me.” Nanami spoke up once again. Y/N didn’t pay too much attention to his somewhat more seriously sounding tone, that was simply his nature.

“You can't keep me from getting absolutely shitfaced drunk.” If this get-together was anything like Gojo’s previous festivities there would be an unlimited amount of alcohol provided. Even if the host of these gatherings never drank an ounce of it himself.

When Nanami didn’t respond or smile at her quick remark she straightened her posture and looked at him expectantly.

“You have to forgive yourself for everything that went down the other day.” He continued then, judging by his tone it was clear as day what exactly he was referring to.

Without any sort of warning a wave of guilt washed over Y/N. Her chest tightened at the reminder of how many lives were lost, how many people she couldn’t save. The destruction was terrible. But it wasn’t the source of her pain. Involuntarily her mind wandered to the corpses which had littered the grounds of the Shibuya station. Her lips started to quiver but she was determined not to give in to the tears. No other word was needed, no clarification or elaboration. She knew what he meant.

Nanami didn’t rush her in her response, instead he gave her all the time she needed by waiting patiently. Something she was thankful for, even if he was the only reason she needed time in the first place.

Y/N hardly noticed when the index finger of her right hand started to scrape at her thumb’s cuticle. Her head was turned away, gaze averted from him. A part of her knew that she had to forgive herself. In fact, she knew that there wasn’t anything to forgive herself for since she had done everything in her powers to save as many people as she could. She had done enough. But her heart did not agree with her head. In her heart she had failed the people of Tokyo. She had failed her fellow sorcerers. She had failed herself.

“You can be really annoying sometimes.” She responded after what seemed like forever, allowing a deep sigh to leave her lungs. ‘Mostly when you’re the voice of reason’, she added in her thoughts bitterly while turning her gaze back to him.

“Yes. Maybe.” His words of agreement were simultaneously out of place and so very typical for him, at least when he was with her. It was enough for her to crack an unwanted smile.

She breathed in deeply, once, twice, and another time.

“Okay.” She finally answered his previous request. Both of them knew that Y/N needed more time to actually forgive herself, but it was a step in the right direction. It was an unspoken promise that she’d attempt to do this for him.

Nanami only responded with a proud nod, barely mouthing the word “Good.”

The quick change in atmosphere had almost caused her heart to beat irregularly. A silence hung over them, but this time it was heavier than before.

Y/N needed to shift the mood again, she needed to uplift not only his spirit, but also her own. She knew that otherwise she’d be glum and gloomy during Gojo’s get-together. There had been too much tragedy within a short time, a killjoy was definitely not what any of the sorcerers needed.

“Since you’re forced to attend this get-together, when are you gonna start complaining?” She chuckled, a little forced anyways, as she asked the blonde sorcerer.

“Complaining about what?” It was Shoko’s voice that sounded from behind Y/N, making her turn around and face the healer with a smile. Although Shoko was never full of energy and happiness, she seemed even more dispirited than ever.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “You know, about Gojo’s obnoxious attitude, about our tone deaf singing when we get drunk, about music that’s way too loud. The whole thing, really.” It seemed obvious to her that Nanami wouldn’t enjoy any of these things.

Shoko’s brows furrowed, her head tilted ever so lightly and her lips pursed.

“Where do you think we are?” She asked Y/N. A question like this would usually have resulted in the female sorcerer chuckling and replying in an amused tone. However, something about Shoko’s tone made her hesitate.

Y/N turned around towards Nanami once more, ready to smile at him.

Except, he wasn’t there anymore.

In a split second Y/N’s entire world came crashing down on her as the realisation set in that he had never been there in the first place. Images of her fights in Shibuya flashed before her eyes. Imagines consisting of sorcerers dying in front of her because she had been too slow.

A ringing set in her ears, intensifying with each memory that surfaced. The sound became stronger when she remembered finding Nanami again amidst the chaos and rubble of the destroyed Tokyo district. She had watched him fight, she had yelled after him, she had attempted to reach him and aid him.

Y/N swallowed hard, slowly turning towards Shoko again. Her chest tightened enough to leave her breathless. With a bitter smile on her face she lowered her gaze. Reluctantly she forced herself to walk, taking one painful step at a time towards the row of outdoor chairs that were neatly set up in front of the closed casket.

She had saved lives and exorcised many curses in Shibuya. She helped search for survivors and consoled the ones that were left behind after the losses.

Alas, the only thing she would forever remember about that night was how she witnessed Nanami dying right in front of her, when she had been too slow to save him.

Without any form of communication she sat down on one of the chairs in the first row, right in front of Nanami’s picture.

She was soon joined by Shoko who sat down next to her, placing a warm hand on her thigh and rubbing it assuringly. The gesture went unnoticed by Y/N, whose eyes were focused on all the little details she could make out on the picture atop the casket. Details that blurred more and more when her eyes filled with tears upon realising that it was all an illusion.

The arguments, the smiles, the quick light-hearted banter she shared with the blonde man during these last few days. It was nothing more than a beautiful hallucination.