#I wish I could cut them all off and never speak to them again. they’re all awful. every last one

[myname-isnia]

I’ve spent the entire day carefully avoiding triggering any negative emotion in myself because the PMS is hitting me hard and I’m genuinely tired of being hysterical all the time, only for my family to come along and shatter all that effort into TINY LITTLE PIECES

[screampied]

thinking about kuna's gf trying to convince him to let her paint his long nails 😃

✩ ‧ ˚. — tags ⋮ fem! reader, pure fluff, heian! era sukuna, panting his nails, meanie kuna but he’s a softie, petnames: little one, woman, girl.

“no.”

a downcasted frown drags against your glossed lips once you sigh. sitting on no one other than sukuna’s lap, you huff out a single vexed breath. “huhh. what do you mean no, i didn’t even ask my question yet.”

“exactly,” he replies in a low voice, leaning back against the ancient, comfortable throne. for a fleeting moment, dark, sinister eyes stare into yours before he cocks his head. “you’re gonna ask me another one of your imprudent questions.”

“kuna, just let me ask you the question,” you protest, straddling the king of curses— it was never a dull moment with him, regardless of how grumpy he turns out to be. knowing sukuna, he’s almost always grumpy. his eyes gaze into you a bit longer and he then brings his thickset upper arms to cross near his chest, a cute pout on his lips as he waits for you to finish speaking. “pretty please?”

“…….fine,” he gives in, aware that you were probably gonna persist on asking him for who knows how many more times. with a sigh, he tilts his head at you. “what is it you wish to ask me, little one?”

smug grin and all, you pick up his broad hand that was so much larger than yours, brushing a thumb against his wrist before cooing, “can i paint your nails, sukuna?”

“no.”

“sukuna!”

he’s leaning back against his throne, the well raised chair sitting up all high and mighty—one of his arms repose near the lower part of his torso and wraps around your hip, pulling you closer.

“you already know what my answer was gonna be, no?” and this time, you give him a pout.

dewey red-shot eyes peer into you for a lengthy amount of time before he groans. that cute little pout of yours, you never fail to make everything so hard for him. “hmph. why do you want to paint my nails? they’re clearly already painted, woman.”

he’s trying..

you hold back a giggle before bringing one of his hands up to your face.

glimmering eyes focus on his nails, how naturally long they were— he had a point though, they were pretty much already painted. full on richly black, the tips of them were oh-so sharp he’d be able to cut about just anything. still, you wanted to paint his nails yourself. you couldn’t really come up with a good enough answer, so you just shrug.

“i just want to,” you hum in a soft voice, intertwining your fingers with his.

he scoffs, showing little to no reaction. with a puny eyebrow raise, you feel his right thigh start to gradually bounce. “please, ryooo,” you mutter, tugging your eyebrows into a pleading, needy furrow. “this way, we can match.”

“goodness, you’re so annoying,” he grumbles, watching your grin stretch as you dangle your own hand up in front of his face.

dark cruel eyes stare at your nails, observing how well manicured and painted they were. he sighs again, uttering out a raspy, “very well,” and he sits manspread, reaching for a nearby tiny table that resides against his infamous throne. “you may paint my nails. just this once.”

with a precious giggle, you grab about two bottles nail polish from your pocket, gently placing his hand down against the porcelain glass table. he’s keeping a sharp eye on you, rolling his eyes at how ecstatic you were on this. the way you treated his hands with such care—that cute little smile never once departing from your sheeny lips,

the moment you twist off the black tight cap that sticks onto the bottle like glue, the strongly loud aroma of the polish hits against his flared nostrils.

it’s heavily strong, the familiar scent of acetone wafts against his domain entirely.

“stay still, ‘kuna.” you whisper, gathering a good amount of polish. for a moment, you swear you could have heard a low growl escape from him.

oh, you were testing his patience.

you were testing sukuna ryōmen’s patience and he was letting you.

“good, good.” you give him a closed-eye smile.

“do not praise me,” he snarls, and he’s already embarrassed. his tone made an attempt to come across as more stern and assertive, but it was just so cute.

with daunting, glaring eyes, he watches silently at the way you softly brush the tip against his nail.

each individual nail took a few seconds each— oddly enough, it was wholly soothing for a while.

“hmph,” he bleats, feeling the softness of your hand skin against his hand every so often. you were so thorough, so precise.

delicately, you lay the brush flat against the bed of his nail. the bristles coat against the layer of his nail and you feel a brief coldness of air fan against your skin. it was rather amusing to watch you pay so close attention to him, to his hands. “hm,” he raises a brow for probably the nth time today. still scowling, his face softens a bit— you had him all relaxed. “you’re quite good at that, i must admit.”

“aw. thank you,” you cheese. with a grin, you give him a cute exuberant glance, pulling up his ring finger to paint the entire part of his nail with a freshly new coat. “how’s it feel?”

sukuna groans, not liking how sentimental this moment was. the entire mood was so … soft.

you made him feel soft— he always thought things like that just wasn’t possible. especially with someone as such as him.

who would have thought that painting the almighty sukuna ryomen’s nail’s would have him falling for you ten times harder . . ?

“it’s … good,” he utters in a gruff tone, and you’re just about done.

his eyes linger toward your hands for a long time, you’re still placed on his lap before you feel the curse’s lower arms grip against your waist tightly. you felt a feeling of abrupt security and it was quite nice. within his touch, you always felt secure. moments with him like this, you’d never be anywhere else. “hurry up though, my thigh’s cramping.”

“oh shut up.” you roll your eyes with a snicker, bringing the brush towards his pinky now. he sticks it out for you, staying still as possible before you pause— dipping it back into the glass teensy bottle, swirling it, delving it around the inner crevices of the glass before finishing up his final finger.

the audacity,

the audacity of telling him to shut up, you must have been out of your mind.

but truth be told, sukuna has somewhat of a sweet spot for you. it made him kiss his teeth in sheer exasperation. he wasn’t used to such tender forms of affection. part of him wonders just why you’re always so warm to him. treating him with such care, he’s the king of curses after all, and yet here he is— acting like his long lost self, the king of love..

“alllll done,” you harmonize, he looks down to see the final results. with low hooded eyes, sukuna stares at his sharp nails— once black, now a light pinkish color. his mouth dangles opens and his face scrunches up, eyebrows curling together and it’s hilarious. for once, sukuna ryomen was speechless. “i know right? you’re gonna get so many compliments, ‘kuna.”

“you did not just paint my nails pink, woman,” he huffs out a grunt, you lean up close to him with a coy, impish look. “the nerve is beyond me..”

you giggle, flashing off your nails in his face, the two of you now having the same exact color. “oh, don’t be a baby. see, now we’re matching,” and his face is still all scrunched up. god, you had him feeling a feeling he didn’t even know he could feel. his stomach’s tight, churning ridiculously, his heart’s racing, and even his palms start to sweat. “with your long nails, you pull it off so well, heh.”

sukuna kept asking himself the same question the more he avoids eye contact.

why must you be so so cute..?

not a single reply comes from his mouth, instead he just crosses his arms into a mere fold. “mhm,” is all he replies with, tilting his head before resuming his words with an obstinate grouse. “whatever. but i’ll have you know that pink is not my color.”

you titter. “oh? what is your color then, my lord?”

you were being a brat, he sends you daggers before regretting he even said that— you always had the higher up on him, every single time.

“tch. nevermind that,” sukuna scorns, and his pout was so adorable.

pink stretched lips compressing together, stubborn as usual.

he brings his hand towards his face before exhaling lowly. “what in the— the nerve of you to put little sparkles on it too,” and he watches your smile beam at his live reaction. “i … don’t know what i’m gonna do with you.”

“you can start by thanking me,” you tease, planting your lips against his cheek.

he tenses up, the softness of your lips giving him whiplash for a moment. every time you present him either something as simple as a kiss, he was never prepared for it. “fine. thank you,” and as his bulky lower arms snake around your waist, he meets your brightly dilated irises. “are ya finished? i need a nap.”

“so old,” you stroke his cheek, and that earns a glare from him. “it’s not even the afternoon yet,” and you gift him with another mwah, the contact that your sweet lips provides has him growing more and more flustered. “but yes, i’m done ‘kuna. thank you.”

“…..good,” he responds after a long seven second pause. sukuna’s scowling before he finally returns your eye contact. his face was slowly getting more flustered from each kiss you give him before he tsks. “ah ah,” he creates a swift hand motion, “off my lap now, you’ve had your fun.”

you frown. “aw,” a sweet disappointed tone hiding underneath your voice. he’s then taken aback once he feels your humanly hands sneak their way into his hair. pink slightly curled up strands of his was a bit messy and tangled. the curse was still publicly pouting, studying your every move before you get an idea. “hm. one more thing though?”

he exhales. “what.”

“can i do your hair? i found some bows and—”

“count your days, girl.”

“stop flirting with me, ‘kuna.”

“….foolish woman,” and after a long dreadful pause, sukuna pouts yet again. so cute, his arms remain crossed before he speaks through annoyingly gritted teeth, an almost smile pokes through his lips that conceals his fangs. “fine. you may do my hair…. or whatever.”

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

THERE'S A CASTLE ON THE HILL, AS THE STORY GOES...

As promised, some initial thoughts on the things I loved about seeing this show. Spoiler free, since most of us haven't gotten to see it yet, and under the cut since I do wax a bit poetic...

Cinderella’s Castle is, in a strange way, an exercise in irony. The show is a retelling of an ancient story that is beloved and recited throughout so many cultures, and yet somehow feels completely fresh. The modern take on glam-punk lighting, a score infused with styles from 80s synth to anime, a high fantasy set with the costumes to match, the spirit of Jim Henson lingering through both the puppets and some larger and intangible vibe, a script combining that Starkid humor and Hatchetfield darkness with a whole different style of speaking… all of these beautifully executed elements melted together into something that I’ve never before seen. To take a tale as old as time and make it unique is no easy feat, but Starkid did so with magic and charm to spare.

Like any good Starkid show, Cinderella’s Castle is relentlessly dynamic: fun and tragic and exciting and just-plain-silly, with many twists and turns and character moments will make you gasp or cheer just as often as you laugh. It simply rollicks. The story clicks right along, especially in act 2, but the characters are so distinct and fun that I found myself almost wishing the Langs had sacrificed their plotting and pace just to spend more time hanging with every single member of this ensemble of personalities.

And that’s also a tribute to the actors themselves. Jeff is David Bowie reborn as the impish and fabulous narrator. Jon and Joey bring Hop A Lot and Crumb to life with so much charm and presence that they practically had the audience eating out of their hands from the very first second. Like, seriously, you will not believe how invested you will immediately become in these talking animals. Kim’s Fairy Queen is as radiant and terrible as promised; her portrayal of immortal inhuman power compels and commands and stands fully distinct from the Lords in Black. Lauren and Mariah are delightfully disgusting as the vile but deeply lovable troll step-sisters; you can feel the fun they’re having practically radiating off of them. Curt’s Tadius is dryly funny and put-upon, but also provides a vitally grounding and centering presence in the larger-than-life world of the Lands That Are. His big scene with Bryce is probably my favorite part of the whole show. James Tolbert is nothing short of an absolute STAR as the Prince, stealing scene after scene after scene with ease and charm and more jokes about genitalia than I think any of us expected. Angela once again displays a completely different facet of her never-ending range, exuding such elegance and control even in trollish filth that I do fear that the kids on the internet are going to start calling her “mother” with greatly increasing frequency. "Facade" was an absolute highlight of the night. And of course Bryce anchors, propels, and heightens every scene she’s in with such apparent ease you forget she’s been rehearsing for weeks and isn’t simply Ella herself. Ella is this world’s bruised, brave, and angry heart, and you will absolutely root for her every step of the way as she wrestles with who she is and learns what it means to claim her own power.

This was Starkid’s biggest budgeted show to date, and you could tell. This group of Michigan Wolverines and friends have accomplished incredible things since the Very Potter days of a single door and some cardboard columns, and I’m so proud of how far they’ve come. And yet Cinderella’s Castle, the fifteenth musical in the fifteenth year, still retains some of that core Starkid magic that I’ve always believed boils down to love. You can so often see that love emanating from the performers on a Starkid stage: love for the show, for their friends, for their craft, for the audience’s energy pushing them through. And the sense of love and support and community radiating from the audience is just as palpable. The man sitting behind me last night was at his first ever Starkid show, and afterwards he remarked in awe how that was the best audience he’d ever been in. And all that love isn’t unearned—it is built and it is nourished by a proud history of creativity, of song and of dance and of laughter and tears. And Cinderella’s Castle, I think, is going to prove an installment worthy of both Starkid’s past and future.

Starkid family, Bogs Hollow grants thee Starlight.

[dearsnow]

WE’RE BORN AT NIGHT

- in which you hold johnny cade like water, or, christ, you hold him like a knife (you’re worried that your touch brings up unpleasant memories for your boyfriend, but he feels differently. johnny cade x gn!reader, angst -> fluff but still bittersweet bc there’s nothing you can really do but hold him, yes this is based off of who we are by hozier because i am a heathen for the irish man).

word count: 1,022

a/n - my first johnny piece and the first piece that i’ve done in actual months 🥹 this is likely not my comeback though and i’m sorry for that 😭 i will always write and i will probably post most of it, but life has been rocky for me lately and my available free time reflects that. in any case, i hope you enjoy my short return (there will inevitably be more as i work things out), and plsss talk to me about the outsiders and literally anything else because i will most definitely love to hear it.

It’s not often that Johnny Cade comes knocking at your door, despite the fact that he’s been your boyfriend for three months now. He never wants to put you out, he says, but when he shows up with a black eye and hand-shaped bruises on his arm, you usher him inside as quickly as you can.

“What happened?” You murmur, eyes scanning over his injuries.

“Just my old man again.” He hesitates. There’s a sharp edge to his words, like they cut his mouth just to say. “Look, I shouldn’t have come.”

You cut him off, tone brimming with concern. If he doesn’t feel safe with you, with staying at your house when his is dangerous, then you need to try harder to keep his quiet heart intact. “You can always come.”

“I know. I mean, the gang’s all out at a party ‘n I guess I just didn’t know where else to go.” He shifts his stance uncomfortably as you hand him two bags of frozen vegetables. “As much as you say you want me here, I know there are some places where I ain’t welcome.”

You would kill his parents if you could. Fuck, you would send them straight to Hell without a second thought. Anyone that truly knew what was going on in that house would. All you can do, though, is take care of him as well as you’re able to.

“I promise, you’re welcome. More than anyone or anything else. I need you here, when things are rough and when they aren’t. Tell me you’ll come when you can.” You speak.

He looks so beautiful in this light, despite everything. You love him so badly that your heart aches from just the movements of his sad brown eyes. “I will.”

“Good.” You smooth down the collar of his jacket, making careful, delicate movements. You fear that if you go a hair too close, he will shatter like the glass bottles thrown at him. “Let’s go to my room, okay? My parents won’t be home until later. We can get you some rest.”

There’s a small part of Johnny that detests himself for holding you back. You could be doing greater things than pressing a wet rag to his forehead, and yet, you stay. You always stay. No matter how horrible the situation, you stay with a pinky linked around his and a warmth so hopeful he thinks he might implode every time he feels it.

You pull your thick blankets over him, uncaring of his grease and the slightly grungy clothes rubbing against your bedsheets. If he needs you, and god, does he look it, you will always be there.

You’re facing him in bed, hands outstretched to card through his hair, but they don’t make contact. His eyes are lightly closed. You wish you could just touch him, hold his hands between your fingers and warm your feet against his calves. There’s some sort of unbreakable barrier between you when you feel that your every movement could send him spiraling into memories of an unkind fist. And yet, an unconscious twitch sends your leg just a centimeter forward to touch his. If you think real, real hard about it, you might have felt him jolt.

“I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable, Johnny.” You whisper, shifting your legs so they’re no longer against him. “I’m real sorry. I know sometimes you don’t like that kind of stuff.”

“No.” He starts, opening his eyes. The rasp in his voice makes your heart sting like a bee’s last breath. “I like it, I mean, I think I do.” His gaze turns towards yours again, brimming with a kind of beautiful emotion, and his fingers move towards your sleeve. “It kinda… it tells me a bit that fingers ain’t always gonna ball up in fists and a palm against my cheek don’t have to hurt.” He breathes. You stare at him. He likes it? Lord, he likes it, and you like it, and you will die if you cannot swathe your entire body around him like you’re trying to keep him together. “‘S like you hold me like water, or, I dunno, a knife. Real gentle and secure n’ such.”

You travel the distance between you, tenderly wrapping your arms around his midsection. He pulls you closer, and suddenly, you feel complete.

If he was being honest, Johnny thinks you saved him. His whole life, he chased and chased the peace that evaded him every second of every day. Like a dog, kicked and dark-eyed, he put his nose to the ground and simply smelled the greater things on the horizon. They were out of reach to him, the silence just barely kissing the tip of his head before dancing so far away he couldn’t reach it if he sprinted. But you, God, you gave him everything he could ever want.

When merciful you came waltzing into his life, he thought nothing could ever be quite so horrible again. You have a forgiving hand and a quiet smile, laced with words that tickle his cheeks rather than grinding him into the earth. When he can reach out to you, gripping your warm arm like a lifeline, everything makes sense. He wouldn’t give that up for the world. He drinks in the affection you give him like sand in a bone-dry desert, and the thought that you could ever be worried about how much you love sets his heart ablaze.

“I’m glad.” You whisper. He can feel your breath against his shirt, and it makes him shiver in a pleasant way. “I love you.“

His breath hitches, heart picking up its pace, as he gently buries his warming face into the top of your head. “I love you too. And… and if you’re here, I want to be here forever.”

He squeezes you just a little bit, just enough to let you know that he never wants to let you go.

“Then I’m never leaving.” You smile. He smiles back, and for the first time that night, he thinks that he might be able to do more than just survive.

[izzystizzys]

Fox tags along on a smuggling bust one (1) time and subsequently wishes he’d never been decanted.

Well, he’s arrested the perp a lot more than just one time, actually, but that very first tackle into a chokehold and electrocuffs more than sufficed to turn the fates against him - the fates, and Cody, the insufferable twat. They’re not actually even batchmates, the lot of them, and going by numbers Fox was decanted long before them (long as in seconds or minutes, no one actually knows), but Seventeen put them all in a training room together and then stupid kriffing Kote looked him up and down, nodded, and hasn’t stopped calling him vod’ika since.

“Why is one of the Republic’s most wanted criminals asking to speak to you, vod’ika?”, Cody asks, without any preamble, almost making Fox cut the holocall on principle. He would, if General Kenobi wasn’t right there next to the little shit. “And why do I not like his tone?”

Fox has to resist the urge to close his eyes and scream, making do with a deep sigh instead. Force curse the day Cody decided to adopt-nap him, and Wolffe following suit immediately. “Weequay, shifty eyes, stupid fucking pirate bandana?”

Cody’s eyes narrow suspiciously, and Kenobi’s eyebrows raise simultaneously. It’s more than a little creepy.

Fox rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars. “Tell him he can go space himself, unless he wants me to do it for him. And then tell him that if he sends me fuzzy fucking socks again I might just hunt him down and do it anyways.”

Past the slide of the door, Thorn’s unmistakable cackle reaches Fox. And Cody, going by the narrowing of his eyes. “Don’t tell him that, ori’vod, he’s probably into that”, Thorn calls out, gleefully, and Force Fox really should’ve kept this to himself in the first place.

He would’ve, actually, but the constant stream of strange presents into Guard headquarters is hard to miss. It was Alderaanian chocolates, last week, which Fox pawned off on the Shinies. A box from a store with a blacked out label before that, which he launched out the window with burning ears before Thire could get a closer look at it.

“Actually”, Thorn continues, happily, “I don’t think it matters much if you do tell him anything - it’s not like the Commander has been the most graceful courtée, and that hasn’t done anything to discourage our favorite smuggler.”

“Marshall Commander”, Fox hisses, because he’s a pissy bitch, and then, because all professionalism has gone out the window anyways, “This is why Stone is my favourite.”

Thorn’s wounded gasp is lost over Kenobi’s thoughtful hum, and Cody’s patented I’m-going-to-do-something-incredibly-stupid-and-you-can’t-stop-me glare. “That would explain why we have Hondo Ohnaka accosting our troopers about your flavour preferences concerning fruit candies. But the one asking to speak to you is Cad Bane, Marshall Commander.”

The string of curses Fox lets out at that is loud enough to have Mauler stick his head in the com room to ask if everything is alright, and Thorn roll on the floor with howling laughter.

Force curse the day he ever slapped electrocuffs on Hondo Ohnaka, and double-curse the one he threw Cad Bane to the floor with a scissor leg takedown.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being ex-HYDRA and Bucky being your mentor

Bucky Barnes x teen!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: @marvelflame2010: “Hello, can you write headcanons for Bucky Barnes being a mentor to a teenager (around 15-16) that was ex-HYDRA and is trying to be a hero? read your request rules, so I hope that this is proper. Thank you!”

sometimes it felt like no one knew what you had went through, being abducted and forced to be a weapon for a secret organization whose purpose was to gain more control

but when you met these avengers, it felt like everyone and their momma knew what it was like

bucky barnes, for example

the winter soldier, a WWII soldier deemed missing in action, presumed dead, and happened to be a prisoner of war and beyond

the experimentation and mind control he endured was much like your own, which gave you some comfort

“does it ever feel weird hearing one of your trigger words as a civilian? you know, now that we got ‘reset?’” -you

“not…no, not really? who’s speaking russian around you, y/n?” -bucky

“uh…i mean, no one. i’ve just been watching a lot of russian tv recently” -you

“why would you naturally assume i am also doing that?” -bucky

“why did you assume i didn’t?” -you

ok, thats not the greatest example of bucky mentoring you, but it’s a great example of sarcastic bickering!

honestly, the hardest part was learning how to be gentle again

if you could even say you were ever gentle to begin with being taken so young

it was hard to be so ruthless and unfeeling and have to start feeling

the nights of panic and anxiety were the worst, they made you wish you had that switch in your mind still. you’d whispered the trigger words to yourself sometimes to see if they were still there and if they could “help” you turn off those feelings

but bucky knew. he knew and he learned and he stuck with you

“y/n, those feelings are good” -buck

“no! no, they’re not. why are you saying it’s good to feel bad? i can’t breathe! i can’t think!” -you

“because you have feelings now. it’s the same as when you’re happy. you get to feel happy, it comes with all that other stuff. you have options, opportunities, this is one of them. you just have to take deep breaths” -bucky

combat training was the strangest feeling

“nope. too hard” “pulling your punches now” “your aim there was lethal” “you can’t put that much force into a chokehold” “cutting someone’s finger off isnt cool, y/n. kind of a dick move” “you automatically try to inflict severe injuries, arteries should not be the go-to. disarm your enemy first, if anything”

nothing ever felt right

if you were fighting effectively, you’d risk killing someone, which isn’t what you do anymore

if you held back too much, you’d be injured or killed, and all this would be for nothing

there had to be a sweet spot, but it was never what you were trained for. you were trained to eliminate your targets by any means

but you understood bucky all the same

bucky was there to help you acclimate to the norm too

like, whatever that was

says the guy with the metal arm and fought in world war ii despite the fact it was now like. 2020-something

like a normal ass dinner

“you know, i rarely ever got to go out to eat as a kid” -bucky

“can you ever say something that doesn’t make you sound ancient?” -you

“hey, you wanna pay for your meal tonight or do you want me to?” -bucky

“sorry…” -you

you liked to watch dumb tv shows (the american kind) with him

he’d indulge for a few minutes and then walk off unless he was REALLY interested

actually, he really enjoyed the office

“which avenger would each character be?” -you

“don’t…don’t make me do that” -bucky

“come on! you know, i kind of think phyllis and bruce are alike. like, theyre soft until they get mad and then all bets are off” -you

“that is…dumb” -bucky

sam really loved that bucky was there for you

but he saw that bucky was kind of doing it to distract himself too

“you know, me and steve found bucky just minding his business a while back. all he wanted then was to be alone, mind his business. this? this was what he needed” -sam

“what? a teenage hydra defector?” -you

“i mean, if youre gonna put it that way” -sam

“no, i get what youre saying” -you

steve actually didn’t come up too much, you know?

you thought bucky was trying to keep himself in the present as much as he could

which was what you were trying to learn from him in the end. how to move forward

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[comfortless]

I have some thoughts about König I wanna run by you. 

I really like the concept of him following rules to the letter, but not the intention. 

like he would never steal from friends, but that only applies to items, job opportunities, romantic interests, and ideas don’t count. 

he would never cheat on his lover, EVER! but…that doesn’t mean he can’t entertain thoughts of the nice recruit who for sure has a crush on him, he could lead her on just a lil bit, live off the attention when he’s deployed and claim ignorance if anything gets serious. 

oh and he would never hit you, of course not! but if he got you riled up enough or angry enough to throw a punch his way he could hold you down and restrain you so you don’t hurt yourself, he’s not a monster for kind of liking how you struggle to break free from his grip, and he’s barely even exerting any energy, it’s a safe kind of powerplay to him. 

ok i am listening and nodding my head yes!

König didn’t get the positive attention he so craved when he was younger, so any little bit of it he can grapple at is his for the taking. He’s a bit impulsive.

Mental health and repercussions are not at all relevant to him when he sees something that he wants and is within the realm of possibility for him to attain. He would have a sort of conniving way when it comes to going about these things, too. It isn’t intentional, but to him, his reasoning is absolute. Probably gets that from his father, but he prefers not to think of that.

He’s no master manipulator here, just a man that is very aware of his few talents. He’s not even good at telling a lie, far too blunt and always speaking the first thing that pops into his head.

There’s a promotion at work another operator is vying for? Well, he’s far more suited for it anyway— look at him. He’s big and good with his weapons, handles them nicely and can plow through an enemy with as much ease as he can a wooden door. His confirmed kills far exceed the number of things that his parents could find and scrape together and deem themselves proud of him for. König’s not entirely withdrawn, either, his people respect him. Some might even admire him a bit, wishing they had the things that he never even asked for: his height, the creepy look upon his face, his lack of hesitation when pulling a trigger or burying his hunting knife in another man’s guts.

They’re on good terms, still on good terms even after he presents his argument as to why he’s just that little bit more deserving. He doesn’t need to bring up his childhood or much of his past to anyone here, but he knows down to his very marrow that people tend to think there’s something off or wrong about him and in turn he’s met with pity or fear. He utilizes it, gets what he feels he deserves by coming off gruff and demanding, even whiny if the situation calls for it. Time and time again, he comes to realize it’s much easier and more rewarding for him to play people like toy soldiers in these situations.

He might not be able to get a girlfriend in any authentic way, but as Ghost said in her reblog here, I do think he would have at least tried a tryst with a friend’s girlfriend at some point. König could reason away any guilt. She came onto him, batting her lashes and wearing that low cut blouse while telling him about just how selfish her man/his friend was in bed. And when it ends terribly as these things do, he’ll learn his lesson well enough, gives some hashed apology over a pint of ale. It doesn’t mend a void, only forces another distance between himself and another person. König is more than used to that.

It is always the wrong thing said or done, always a ship with no harbor to dock. He would have friends, yes, but it’s up in the air as to whether or not any of them last very long. He’s self aware enough to realize that he creates these problems, that he could have just done x instead of y, but there’s this tentative, newfound pride wrought up within him that he doesn’t ever let go of. He doesn’t want to be seen as that weak little boy he once was. Apologies are like pulling teeth, even getting one from him is a big deal.

It isn’t his fault he didn’t get as much pussy as any other man and surely… any true friend of his would know enough about him to accept that he was not entirely the one at fault here. Richtig..?

He’ll be happy to take credit for a job well done. It wasn’t his idea to burst through that door and clear out a room of enemies, but he did the work. He deserves the praise, the increase in pay, whatever benefit he can gain from it. It didn’t matter that Fender barked out the order over the comms, warned his team of potential danger, what matters to König is that he got it taken care of with no casualties on his side.

New recruits come and go often, and more often than not, they’re horrified of this giant that outranks them. König still hasn’t mastered any way with women, but he’s been fortunate enough to land himself a sweet, cute girlfriend that waits for him at home. He’s not an idiot, either, knows a little romp at work isn’t worth a thing in comparison to her and would only add another fire to the desolate world he lives in in his head. His girlfriend’s the only garden he has, and he would rather damn himself entirely than ever see something he loves burn.

So, when one bold woman does approach him, placing her hand on his arm and complimenting his stature, he doesn’t feel a thing except some strange twist of pride.

He’s come a long way from the boy who was ridiculed and bullied relentlessly, worked himself tirelessly into becoming this broad mimicry of a god made flesh. But fuck. The attention is nice. He would compliment this recruit’s aim from time to time, pat her on the head like a good little dog when she takes out an enemy or stacks on extra work for herself. It never goes further than that, but she practically eats out of the palm of his hand, begging with her eyes rather than her voice to ask for a night with her colonel.

And when he’s on leave, and his girlfriend is asking why this woman is texting him so often, he shrugs and casually tosses her his phone. He’s got nothing to hide, hasn’t even entertained the thought of sleeping with this girl. If anything, she reminds him of himself before he ever got laid. That desperation is certainly there, and it does kind of unsettle him. Is this how he came off to women before…? A pitiful little thing that just wants to be loved and cared for?

He doesn’t even respond to the recruit’s messages, even when there are so many of them. He kisses his girlfriend everywhere, fucks her like it’s the first few times all over again, and falls asleep nestled up against her. There’s no room in his heart for anyone except the object of his affection, but a part of him does hope this lost little lady finds her own sliver of heaven too. He knows how she feels and hates the thought of making a woman cry outside of fucking her well. So he lets the recruit down easy next time they meet, tells her he doesn’t care for relationships at work, that he loves his girlfriend and he doesn’t want to hurt her. It’s spoken candidly, and doesn’t leave any room for discussion.

Shame about the lack of affection while deployed, but he’s managed on his own longer than most. He’s got an entire album of pretty photos of his girl in and out of the lingerie he bought for her to keep him company, anyway.

And admittedly, arguments with his beloved turn him on.

They both know that she can’t actually hurt him. When her hand is raised to give him a good slap for being a complete asshole over something as trivial as a cashier for accidentally ringing something up twice, he’s already hard. The grin on his face is nothing short of ugly, because he knows how this ends, the same way that it always does. He would take her wrist only after she’s hit him, let her stew in what she’s done, murmur her apologies through stilted breaths and lashes heavy with tears. She tells him she just doesn’t understand why he is the way that he is sometimes while trying to wrench her hand away from his grip.

He’s not rough enough to hurt her when the argument sparks up again, even guides her down onto the floor with a steady hand on her back while she pleads with him for answers that he just doesn’t have. He would go back to seeing a regular therapist for her, maybe. He would do anything for her and that’s just another thing that they both know.

“Heh… you like me crazy,” König would breathe into her hair when her thighs are locked around his middle. Poor thing can barely speak when she’s exerted her energy trying to best him in a battle she could never hope to win. She’s all whimper and no bite, nails raking over his shoulders with each slow, teasing thrust.

“Look at you.” He practically purrs when her face is taken into one callused palm, brought forward to lock eyes with him when the sounds spilling from her lips grow more needy. And then he gives her the fucking she deserves, rougher when she’s sighing his name and trembling from the residual waves of her own orgasm. It didn’t matter who was right or wrong anymore; argument long-forgotten, buried under a blanket of white heat. He chases his own end, lets her watch him unravel all for her as his seed fills her, spills out where they connect to make a mess of the carpet below.

He’s selfish in those ways.

[mononijikayu]

love of my life — geto suguru.

When Geto Suguru walked through the door, you felt your breath catch. He looked both familiar and distant, the lines of weariness etched deeper than you remembered. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. He was still the man you loved and the man that broke your heart—he was everything to you and he was nothing all at once. And you wished, you wished you could decide what he was, truly.

Genre: Alternate Universe - No Curse (Modern Day)

Warning/s: Actors AU!, Romance, Actors in Love, Secret Romance Trope, Co-workers In Love, Friends to Lovers, Lovers to Exes, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Emotional Hurt, Break-Up, Happy Ending, Profanity, Mention of Sexual Contexts, Mention of Exes Getitng Back Together, Depiction of Break-Up, Depiction of Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Alcohol, Geto Suguru as a Singer-Songwriting Actor, Reader is his Muse, HE IS IN LOVE YOUR HONOR;

masterlist

song: love of my life by queen.

note: i ended up rewatching the videos by cut and im still struck by the conversation between tony and sofya in truth or drink and got inspired. i hope that they find the happiness that they always deserved and know that the love they had at one point was something else. anyway, i hope you enjoy this and i hope you guys have a good one!!! i love you <3333

YOU WERE EXCITED FOR YOUR CHARACTER. You couldn’t help but feel excitement flood through you as you read through the words across the pages over and over. You could not stop reading. The writing was really well done for this part of the manga, and so when you heard that this part of the story was finally going to make it into the screen, you were ecstatic. 

You hummed as you tried to speak a line, one after another, in different tones and textures. Often, you would bring a pen with you and write off what you think about the scene and how you want to say it. But getting this from your manager just now, you wanted to immediately dive into it and so, you neglected the pen. You’ll make a mental note about it. 

The warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you settled into the languid table, your vibrant eyes skimming over the script. The coffee machine’s sound echoed for a moment. Your drink was done. You put down the script for a moment and walked over to your coffee machine.

You pour some on the mug waiting on the corner. Rushing over to the fridge, you take the carton of milk and pour a little bit of it on your cup. You didn’t put in that much milk. You wanted to be active as you read, the milk would make you sleepy. 

Script in hand and coffee secured, you make your way into the living room and carefully rested the mug on the coffee table. You plopped your body onto the couch once again and started to read once more. You were captivated by the story when it first came out in serialization.

But you never expected that it would grow big like this one day and even more so, play one of your favorite characters in the show. You were glad for the opportunity, when it first came around. The yes was immediate and one season and a movie — you were now here, for another season once again.

“Oh, so that scene with Suguru is happening, hm?” You gasp, your eyes scanning through the words. “Yo! Suguru, they’re not going to disappear, don’t hog them, oh my god.”

Your character was the only senior left in Tokyo Jujutsu High by that point and so, they guide them into the ropes of being sorcerers. In modern times, they’re very close, Satoru and your character. You were both left behind by Suguru's character.

But before that, there was Suguru and Suguru was in love with their senpai, but staved off for Satoru. But this scene, in Okinawa, was the moment Suguru couldn’t help it anymore and thought about making a move. You flipped another page.

“Oh baby, you’re gonna be so sad when he leaves.” You muttered under your breath, continuing to read. “Don’t start something you can’t continue!”

“Don’t start something I can’t continue?” You heard the voice echo through the apartment. Your head snaps to the direction of the door and you smile, seeing his purple eyes gleam against yours. “What do you have on hand, darling?”

“Script’s arrived!” You say, waving your own in the air. You pointed to the side. “Your manager left yours here too.”

Geto Suguru blinked, looking at where you were pointing out. “Wow, I didn’t think that it would get here this early.”

“Right?” You say as you look at the scripts again. “They really crunched the writing time this time. And it’s so good!”

“Well, they finally got the approval from Akutami–sensei fast this time.”

“I suppose they probably did.” 

He hums as he walks over to you and sits down by you. He turns to you and places a small kiss on your lips. ”Hey, love.”

“Hey, Sugu.” You whisper back. “You’re home late.”

"Sorry I'm late. The recording ran longer than expected."

You smiled up at him, feeling the familiar warmth that always accompanied his presence. "It's okay. How did it go?"

He slid into the seat opposite me, his purple eyes sparkling with excitement. "It went great. I think you're going to love the new song. It's… special."

"You always say that, Sugu." You teased, though you knew this one would be extraordinary, just like all the others.

“Well, it's because you’re the only person I write about.” He grins at you sheepishly. “And I am in love with you.”

“Hm…that’s true.” You giggle.

“Anything interesting in the script?”

“Oh, darling, you have no idea! Let me catch you up!”

The two of you spent the next hour discussing the show, your upcoming scenes, and the plans for your future projects. He told you about the upcoming releases he has for his music, if he was planning to go touring again.

It was moments like these, away from the glitz and glamor, that you think you cherished the most. You were both natural, you were just whole — together. Here, we were just two people in love, supporting each other through the highs and lows of your demanding careers.

Once you finished the other script you were going to receive in the upcoming week for a movie you were going to star in, Suguru sighed and looked at you for a moment. He often does that, trying to memorize the wonder in your face, over and over again.

He’s often away from you because of work too. And so he takes it all in. He burns the memory of you so deeply into him that it's all he remembers for weeks and months until you both meet again.

Suguru took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You know, I was thinking about our next awards show. I have a feeling you might be giving another speech soon."

You laughed, shaking my head. "And you know I'll be paying homage to you, as always."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "And I'll be in the front row, cheering you on, as always."

Geto Suguru is your lover. But he’s also your co–worker on multiple projects, including Jujutsu Kaisen. The beloved charismatic actor with a voice that could melt hearts, had captured your attention from the moment you first met on set. His passion for acting was matched only by his love for music. He was such an addition to the casting list, because he’d been popular since he was a teenager and he only kept getting popular with time. 

Everything about Suguru was electric. From the moment you met him, he exuded a kind of wonder that drew you in effortlessly. As your senpai in the industry, he was a bit older and infinitely wiser, but unlike others you had encountered, he didn't just guide you—he cared for you deeply, nurturing your talents and helping you grow.

He was always there with a kind word and enthusiastic encouragement, urging you to accept scripts that came your way and guiding you on how to navigate the complexities of the industry. His wisdom extended beyond acting techniques; he knew how to choose stories that would resonate with you, stories that would challenge and inspire.

"Remember, it's not just about the lines you deliver," he once said over coffee, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. "It's about the stories you choose to tell. Each role you take on is a part of your journey as an artist."

He taught you the intricacies of set dynamics, the unspoken rules of professionalism, and the importance of forging genuine connections in a competitive world. Suguru didn't just impart knowledge; he shared his passion for storytelling and his belief in your potential.

You were grateful for his presence in your life, not just as a mentor but as a friend who believed in you when doubt crept in. His kindness and enthusiasm were infectious, and every interaction with him left you feeling inspired and capable of reaching new heights.

As you reflected on your journey together, you couldn't help but smile at the thought of how far you had come under his guidance. Suguru was more than a mentor; he was a guiding light in an industry that could sometimes feel overwhelming. And for that, you were endlessly thankful.

The kindness and care Suguru showed extended far beyond the flicker of the camera lens. Alongside Satoru, the three of you often found yourselves on spontaneous trips together. When Utahime and Shoko weren't caught up in their own burgeoning careers, they joined in too. These moments outside of work allowed your bond with Suguru to deepen naturally over time.

As you explored new places together, shared meals, and exchanged stories under starlit skies, a subtle shift occurred. What began as admiration for his talent and guidance blossomed into something more profound. Suguru's laughter became the soundtrack to your happiest memories, his understanding gaze a sanctuary in moments of uncertainty.

One night, sitting by a crackling campfire under a blanket of stars, Suguru reached for your hand. The warmth of his touch spoke volumes, words unspoken yet understood between you. 

"I never expected this, you know." he murmured, his voice soft with wonder.

You smiled, squeezing his hand gently. "Me neither." you confessed, feeling the weight of truth and possibility melt into one in the air.

As days turned into weeks and months, the realization grew stronger: you had fallen in love with Suguru. His kindness, wisdom, and unwavering support had woven their way into your heart, creating a tapestry of feelings that surpassed friendship and mentorship.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson, you found yourselves alone by a tranquil lake. The serenity of the moment mirrored the quiet certainty in your hearts.

"I love you, doll." Suguru finally whispered, his eyes holding yours with a depth that took your breath away.

Tears glistened in your eyes as you replied, "I love you too, Suguru." the words a promise of shared dreams and endless possibilities.

In that serene moment, under the canopy of stars and the gentle rustle of leaves, romance bloomed between you—born from shared adventures, mutual respect, and a love that had quietly taken root and blossomed into something beautiful.

After those tranquil moments by the lake, Suguru and you returned to your bustling lives, carrying the newfound certainty of your love like a secret little treasure—one that only you could find. And you were happy with that. You wanted to make the privacy continue and so did he. The world has no claim to your love, until you both were comfortable about sharing it to the world.

In the whirlwind of your demanding careers, where every moment seemed accounted for and every move scrutinized, you discovered a sanctuary in stolen moments together. Your love thrived in the secrecy of stolen kisses exchanged on secluded corners of film sets, where the world couldn't intrude. 

Backstage at glittering award shows, amidst the clamor and flashbulbs, your fingers intertwined, a silent declaration of affection amid the spectacle. Despite the challenges that you both faced, from conflicting schedules to the relentless glare of media attention, you both carved out your own private oasis, where your connection deepened, nurtured by these precious, stolen moments.

It was during one of these stolen moments, when the whole Jujutsu Kaisen cast went on a spontaneous ski trip to the mountain, that the world caught a glimpse of our budding romance.

Paparazzi cameras flashed as we laughed and skied down powdery slopes, oblivious to the lenses capturing your every move. One kiss was all it took, and it was because you were desperate, you missed him too much and he obliged you, not caring who sees you both.

The photos splashed across tabloids and social media, sparking speculation and curiosity among fans and industry insiders alike. Your management started trying to do damage control at this time, as you both were not yet ready to say anything.

For days, the two of you navigated the newfound attention with a mix of amusement and caution, unsure of how to address the public's piqued interest in your personal lives.

But amidst the frenzy, there was a quiet certainty between us. One evening, as you and Suguru sat together in his cozy cabin retreat in the countryside. It was one of the places you loved being with him. Both of you were comfortable here, and no one was harassing you both. It was a change of pace from the city and for that you were glad. You knew your lover was in distress watching you have to be followed by cameras. 

It would have been fine if it was just him, but it was hard to see you struggle with that unwanted attention. But here, at the very least, he could be reassured that no one was going to be chasing after you both to catch a scoop for the newspaper tabloids tomorrow. You were in peace, watching the stars, surrounded by flickering firelight and the hush of falling snow outside, we knew it was time.

"I think we should tell them," Suguru said softly, his gaze steady and reassuring.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I think so too. It's just... it feels like the right time, doesn't it?"

Suguru's smile was tender. "It does. We've been keeping this between us for so long. It's about time we let them know."

There was a mix of relief and nervous anticipation in your chest. The decision to share your relationship with others meant opening yourselves to scrutiny, but also embracing a newfound freedom in being open about your love.

"I'm glad you feel that way," you admitted, squeezing Suguru's hand gently. "I've been thinking about how we'd do it, though. Should we just... announce it? Or maybe ease into it somehow?"

Suguru considered for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "I think a quiet announcement, something personal. Maybe a statement or a post, just letting people in a bit. Nothing flashy, just sincere."

You smiled, feeling reassured by his calm demeanor. "That sounds perfect."

Together, both of you crafted a heartfelt message to the world via Instagram. You posted pictures of you both through the years, showing the little glimpses of the two of you, from colleagues to friends, and finally to lovers. You wrote about your deep respect and admiration you had for each other, of the shared moments that had brought you closer, and the joy you found in each other’s presence. 

When the announcement went live on your social media accounts, the response was overwhelming. Messages of love and support poured in from fans, friends, and colleagues alike. The world celebrated your love story, touched by the sincerity and authenticity of your words. And people were hooked about your romance. Somehow, the world saw an it couple. People gushed over everything about you.

Over the years, Geto Suguru had poured his heart into composing songs that were not just music, but reflections of your relationship. Each song was a tapestry woven with threads of joy, resilience, and quiet understanding. No one would understand each song better than you. Each lyric was a brushstroke capturing the nuances that only belonged to the two of you.

In the private moments between tours and film sets, Suguru would often retreat with his guitar, letting melodies weave themselves around the emotions that sparked everything that made him think of you.

He found inspiration in the simplest gestures—a shared smile across a crowded room, the touch of hands entwined in a moment of quiet intimacy, or the unspoken reassurance in a glance exchanged amid hectic schedules.

His songs became a soundtrack to your lives, resonating with authenticity that transcended mere performance. Through his music, Suguru painted vivid portraits of shared laughter under starlit skies, whispered promises exchanged in moments stolen away from the world, and the profound sense of belonging that anchored us amidst the whirlwind of fame and public scrutiny.

As his compositions evolved, so did your relationship, and each new song became a chapter in a long and happy road that you both dwelled on. The world watched with fascination as your on-screen chemistry seamlessly transitioned into real-life devotion, and fans marveled at the palpable love that radiated between the both of you on and off the screen.

In the spotlight of a concert hall filled with eager listeners, Suguru stood before a sea of faces, his guitar a conduit for emotions that flowed freely from heart to fingertips. With each strum and every lyric sung with unwavering passion, he not only shared your story but invited the audience into the intimate spaces where your love blossomed and flourished.

And as he dedicated a song to someone special, his eyes met yours in the front row, a silent acknowledgment of the journey they had embarked on together—a journey immortalized in melodies that would linger in the hearts of all who bore witness to this love story.

The audience hushed as Suguru walked over to the microphone and spoke into the microphone, his voice carrying a soft warmth that filled the room. You could feel your heart pounding as he tried to find you. When your eyes met, it was electric.

"Tonight, I want to dedicate a song to someone very special." His eyes met yours in the front row, where you sat, heart skipping a beat at the intensity of his gaze. “Love of my life, up on that balcony! Doll, I love you. I hope you know that all this would never exist without you.”

As the first chords of the guitar filled the air, memories flooded back—late-night conversations, stolen kisses, moments of quiet intimacy that had woven themselves into the fabric of our lives. The world had watched in awe as our on-screen chemistry translated seamlessly into real life, and our fans often remarked on the palpable love we had for each other.

Suguru's voice resonated with emotion as he sang, each word a love letter whispered to your heart.  The world was singing songs to the words, the poems he wrote to you and only you. And you couldn’t feel any happier. Any more content, to be this loved. To be the only person that he truly deeply loves.

The lyrics painted a portrait of our journey, from tentative beginnings to a love that had weathered storms and emerged stronger. In that moment, surrounded by the melody and the warmth of Suguru's presence, you knew that this was more than a concert—it was a declaration, a celebration of a love that had transcended the screen and found its place in the hearts of everyone present.

As the final notes faded into the air, applause erupted, but all you could hear was the beating of your heart, synchronized with Suguru's, united in the melody of a love song that would resonate long after the last encore. The crowd clapped and cheered. You felt your eyes water with nothing but tears of joy.

He looked at you with that loving grin that was only for you.

The one that would stick with you for the rest of your life.

A month later, you both were in the clasp of your break up.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW IT ALL FELL FAST. Work had always been demanding, but recently, it seemed to swallow up every spare moment. Your schedules became a maze of conflicting obligations, leaving little room for the moments of connection that once defined your relationship. As days turned into weeks without seeing each other, and unanswered messages piled up, the distance between you grew palpable.

One evening, after another missed opportunity to meet, you couldn't contain your concerns any longer. Sitting across from Suguru in a dimly lit corner of a bar, you voiced your worries, the words tinged with frustration and worry. "I feel like we're drifting apart. We hardly see each other anymore, and I miss you, Suguru.”

Suguru's response was unexpectedly calm, his demeanor unwavering. "We're fine, babe." he assured you, his voice steady but distant. “You know that.”

Frustration flared within you, fueled by the sting of his apparent indifference. "Fine?" you retorted, the words tinged with frustration and hurt. "How can you say that? We haven't even talked properly in weeks. I don't feel like my needs are being met, Suguru."

The bitterness of unspoken grievances bubbled to the surface, amplified by the haze of alcohol and the weight of unaddressed concerns. Pushing further, you demanded clarity. "When can we talk about this? When will you make time for us?"

Suguru's response was curt, his own patience wearing thin. "Not now, okay? I have too much on my plate."

The tension hung heavy in the air, charged with unresolved emotions and the sharp edges of unmet expectations. You leaned forward, voice tinged with desperation and a tinge of anger. "How long are we going to keep putting this off, Suguru? I need to know where we stand."

Suguru's expression tightened, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. "I said not now, alright? Can't you see I'm dealing with a lot right now?"

The words cut deeper than intended, slicing through the fragile thread of patience that held you both together. "I get that you're busy," you shot back, the bitterness in your voice betraying the hurt beneath. "But what about us? Are we just going to keep pretending everything's okay until it's too late?"

His silence spoke volumes, a testament to the growing distance between you. The crowded bar seemed to fade into the background as the weight of your words settled between you like an unbridgeable chasm. In that moment, the stark reality of your situation crystallized—you were drifting apart, caught in the undertow of careers that had once bound you together but now threatened to tear you apart.

The ache of longing mingled with frustration as you searched his eyes for a glimmer of reassurance, a sign that he still cared enough to fight for what you once had. But all you found was a weary resignation, a reflection of his own internal battles and the relentless demands of fame.

"We can't keep avoiding this," you finally whispered, the admission heavy with resignation. "I need more than just promises, Suguru. I need you."

Suguru's jaw tightened visibly, his normally composed demeanor cracking under the strain of your words. "What do you want from me, huh?" His voice, usually calm and steady, now carried a sharp edge of frustration. "I'm doing the best I can here. I have responsibilities, deadlines—"

"Responsibilities? Deadlines?" You couldn't hold back the bitterness that laced your retort. "What about us? Where do we fit into your grand plans, Suguru?"

The bar seemed to shrink around you, the noise of other patrons fading into a distant hum as your argument escalated. Anger surged through you, fueled by months of feeling sidelined and ignored. "I'm tired of waiting for you to have time for us. We used to make time, remember?"

His silence was damning, a stark confirmation of the growing divide between you. "You're being unreasonable," Suguru shot back, his voice rising slightly. "You know how important my work is."

"And what about how important we are?" The words slipped out like a dagger, cutting through the last vestiges of restraint. "I feel like I'm competing with your career for your attention, and I'm losing."

A wave of regret washed over Suguru's features, but his reply was defensive. "I can't just drop everything whenever you want me to, doll." he said, voice tinged with frustration. “It’s not that easy!”

"Then when, Suguru? When will you make time for us?" The plea in your voice was raw, exposed in the harsh light of reality. "Or are we just going to keep drifting further apart until there's nothing left?"

The accusation hung heavy in the air, a painful admission of the cracks that had formed in your once-solid foundation. In the charged silence that followed, neither of you seemed to have an answer, each grappling with the weight of unspoken truths and the daunting prospect of what lay ahead for a relationship once filled with promise, now teetering on the brink of irreparable damage.

Suguru's jaw tightened further, his gaze flickering with a mix of anger and hurt. "I don't know, okay?" His voice wavered, betraying the turmoil within. "I'm trying to balance everything, but it's not easy. Can't you see that?"

Frustration gnawed at your resolve, tears threatening to spill over as the ache of longing collided with the sting of his words. "I just need to know that we are still a priority to you." you whispered, voice cracking with emotion.

"I'm sorry. Suguru replied, his tone softer now, tinged with remorse. "I didn't mean for it to be like this. I thought... I thought we could make it work. We always have—”

The weight of his admission hung heavy in the air, a fragile bridge over the chasm that had widened between you. "So did I," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "But we can't keep going on like this, Suguru. Something has to change. We can’t continue like we always have and I just…”

For a moment, there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes, an acknowledgment of the pain and uncertainty. "Maybe... maybe we need some time," Suguru suggested tentatively, his voice tinged with resignation. "To figure things out. Cool down.”

The words landed heavily, their implications sinking in like stones cast into still waters.

Time—perhaps the only currency left to salvage what remained of your fractured relationship. In the dimly lit bar, amidst the ebb and flow of conversations that now seemed distant and inconsequential, you both grappled with the reality of what lay ahead. It was a crossroads of roads not taken.

Your heart sank as Suguru's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the reality you both faced. Time—a desperate plea for a lifeline amidst the storm threatening to tear you apart. But beneath his suggestion lingered the unspoken truth, a truth you could no longer deny.

"I think... maybe we need more than just time, Suguru." you replied softly, each word heavy with the weight of impending sorrow.

Suguru's brow furrowed, confusion etched across his features as he searched your eyes for clarity. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Your voice caught, emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "I think we need to break up, Suguru."

The words hung between you, heavy and final. The air seemed to still, the ambient sounds of the bar fading into a distant echo as the gravity of your declaration settled over both of you. Suguru's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief, then to a desperate plea as he reached out, his hand trembling slightly.

"No." he whispered, his voice cracking with a mixture of anguish and denial. "Please, don't do this. We can work through this, I know we can."

Tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you shook your head, unable to meet his pleading gaze. "I don't think we can." you managed, voice breaking with the weight of your decision. "I can't keep feeling like I'm second to everything else in your life. I need more than what we have now."

Suguru's hand dropped to his side, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "But I love you, doll." he pleaded softly, voice thick with emotion. "I love you more than anything."

The pain in his voice mirrored your own, one that understands the gravity of this situation. But love alone couldn't bridge the gap that had grown between you, nor could it erase the wounds inflicted by neglect and unfulfilled promises. You can’t keep climbing on seesaws and expect no one will fall. Someone has to get down before someone hurts someone worse.

"I know." you whispered hoarsely, your heart breaking with every syllable. "But love isn't enough anymore."

With those final words, you turned away, unable to bear the weight of his gaze any longer. Each step felt like a farewell to a chapter of your life that had once held so much promise, now shrouded in the ache of what could have been.

“Goodbye, Suguru.” You whisper to him.

As he watched you leave,  Geto Suguru remained rooted to the spot, a solitary figure amidst the bustling bar, grappling with the sudden emptiness that enveloped him. As you disappeared into the night, the echoes of your decision lingered, leaving behind a void that neither time nor distance could easily fill. 

Like he was then, he was alone again. 

There were no more love songs to write.

After all, he doesn’t have a muse anymore.

IT WAS A HARD THING, POST BREAK UP. After months of deliberate distance, you had meticulously carved out a life without Geto Suguru—deleting social media, blocking his number, and meticulously avoiding any reminders of the past. It wasn't about erasing him; it was about finding clarity amidst the pain.

Yet, despite the space you sought, thoughts of him lingered, an unwelcome but constant presence in your thoughts. You hadn't wanted to discard everything you had shared—your friendship, the laughter, the late-night conversation. But the ache of heartache had necessitated the separation. And that separation, it was what you can’t do away with. Pain was always necessary to living. You can’t always be happy about things all the time.

Then came the unexpected twist: the news that you and Suguru were paired for the upcoming promotions of Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2. Your manager pitched an idea that made your heart sink and pulse race simultaneously—an appearance on a popular show where you both would participate in a "Truth or Drink" segment.

The proposition was daunting. The prospect of facing Suguru after all this time, under the scrutiny of cameras and questions designed to peel back layers you had painstakingly protected, left you torn. Part of you longed for closure, a chance to mend what had fractured. Another part feared reopening wounds that had barely begun to heal.

Deep down, you knew one thing: despite the pain, you still cared. You wanted to salvage what remained—a friendship built on shared dreams and mutual respect. The thought of facing him again, navigating the uncertain terrain of unspoken apologies and lingering affection, stirred a tumult of emotions.

As you mulled over the proposal, uncertainty clouded your judgment. Could this show be a bridge to reconciliation, a chance to mend fences and rediscover the camaraderie that had once defined your bond? Or would it unravel the fragile peace you had painstakingly cultivated in his absence?

With a sigh, you realized that regardless of the risks, the opportunity to reconnect, to confront the unresolved emotions that had tethered you to Suguru, was one you couldn't dismiss lightly. Whatever lay ahead, it was time to face the truth, whether through words spoken or drinks shared, in hopes of finding a way forward, together or apart.

You stared at the email on your screen, heart pounding with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Your manager had just sent the proposal to Suguru's team, and surprisingly, he had accepted. A wave of emotions crashed over you—relief, nervousness, and a flicker of hope.

Days passed before the meeting was set in a quiet cafe near your house, chosen for its familiarity and the privacy it offered amidst the city's bustle. You after all preferred to live in a more down low neighborhood than most celebrities. You arrived early, hands trembling slightly as you waited, nerves building with each passing minute.

When Geto Suguru walked through the door, you felt your breath catch. He looked both familiar and distant, the lines of weariness etched deeper than you remembered. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

He was still the man you loved and the man that broke your heart—he was everything to you and he was nothing all at once. And you wished, you wished you could decide what he was, truly.

Finally, Suguru broke the silence, his voice tentative yet determined. "Hey, doll." he murmured, sliding into the seat opposite you.

"Hi.” you replied softly, managing a small smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. Your nickname makes you feel weird all the sudden, after not hearing it for so long. “It’s nice to see you.”

He nodded back at you. The silence stretched between you, pregnant with unspoken apologies and lingering questions. Finally, Suguru cleared his throat, gaze searching yours with a mix of regret and longing. "I... I didn't expect us to meet like this, truly." he admitted, voice tinged with sincerity.

"Neither did I." you confessed, fingers tracing patterns on the tabletop. "But here we are."

Suguru nodded, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "About that Youtube show... I didn't think you'd agree to it."

You exhaled slowly, the weight of your decision settling over you. "I... I think it could be good for us." you admitted, meeting his gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "To talk. To clear the air. There’s….a lot of misinformation.”

"I want that too," Suguru said quietly, his gaze meeting yours with a glimmer of hope tempered by caution. "To clear your name from all those nasty rumors, once and for all."

You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and gratitude at his words. The weight of the accusations that had circulated, tarnishing your reputation and testing your resilience, had been a burden you bore alone. To hear that one day, Suguru made the decision to take legal action against those responsible stirred a wave of emotions within you.

"I didn't think you'd sue those people." you admitted, your voice soft with both relief and lingering disbelief. The thought of confronting the falsehoods head-on had initially seemed daunting, even isolating, but knowing Suguru stood by you brought a renewed sense of strength.

Suguru reached across the table, his hand finding yours in a gesture that spoke volumes. "I couldn't stand by and watch you suffer, doll." he murmured, his gaze intense yet reassuring. "You deserve to be heard, to set the record straight."

His words resonated deep within you, a validation of your struggle and a beacon of support in the face of adversity. For the first time in months, you allowed yourself to believe that perhaps, together, you could navigate the storm that had threatened to tear you apart.

 "I've missed... talking to you." He admitted to you.

The admission hung between you, a fragile bridge over the chasm of hurt and regret that had kept you apart. For a moment, you both sat in companionable silence, the warmth of shared memories mingling with the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

"I've missed it too." you finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “More than you know.”

Silence engulfed you both for a moment, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions lingering between you like a palpable presence. Suguru's question hung in the air, a tentative bridge over the divide that had grown between you.

"How have you been?" he asked softly, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and genuine concern.

You took a deep breath, the question unraveling a floodgate of thoughts and feelings you had guarded so carefully. "It's been... challenging." you admitted finally, your gaze drifting to the tabletop as you searched for the right words. "Lonely, at times. But I've been trying to focus on moving forward."

Suguru nodded slowly, his expression reflecting a blend of understanding and regret. "I'm sorry, doll." he murmured, his voice tinged with remorse. "For everything."

The sincerity in his words touched a chord within you, a reminder of the bond you had once shared and the wounds that had driven you apart. "I know, Suguru." you replied softly, meeting his gaze with tenderness. "I've missed talking to you."

A flicker of relief crossed Suguru's features, his shoulders relaxing marginally. "I've missed it too." he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s hard….not being able to talk to you.”

The admission hung between you, a fragile thread connecting past regrets to uncertain futures. In that moment, the bustling cafe seemed to fade away, leaving only the echo of shared memories and the tentative hope of reconciliation.

"I don't know where we go from here, after we do the show." you confessed, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Suguru reached across the table once more, his hand finding yours with a gentle squeeze. "Maybe we start with honesty," he suggested quietly, his gaze unwavering. "And take it one step at a time."

You didn’t know what else to say to him.

But you think that you both long for the same things in life.

You wanted to stay in each other’s lives for as long as possible.

SO CAME THAT DAY. When you arrived in the studio, you didn’t know what you were going to do. But the more you think about him being there, being with you to hold your hand to talk you through it, the more you think that you might get somewhere.

You and Suguru sat across from each other, the sounds of music floating softly in the background. The line up of alcoholic beverages on the table along with shot glasses and a cup of soda for a chaser. The tension in the air was palpable, each of you unsure of what this conversation might reveal. 

Emotions churned beneath the surface, like a storm gathering strength, and the truths that might come out held the potential to either break or shatter what remained between you. Suguru and you wanted to be honest, to address things properly, but also to keep some boundaries intact. But then again, how could you, when it came to him? He was the love of your life. And you knew you were his. 

As you sat down, you smiled at him, a gesture that felt both familiar and foreign. He smiled back, as tenderly as he could, just as he always had. For a moment, you were transported back to a time when things were simpler, when the man sitting across from you was the one you fell in love with. His eyes held the same warmth, the same quiet intensity that had once captivated you.

"You know….I really don’t know what’s going to come out of this conversation between us." Suguru said, his voice trembling slightly. But he smiles, as though trying to comfort you too. “This is a new sort of conversation to have in front of the camera.”

You glanced at him, your own hands shaking. You laugh shakily. "Don’t worry. I feel that too. I don’t think that this is gonna be any easy for us.  I'm afraid it's going to be like..." You railed off, unable to finish the thought. “You know what, let that thought disappear.”

"Do you want to go... Yeah," he chuckled nervously. “Let it disappear with a drink.”

“Pour it down, Sugu!”

You watched Suguru take a deep breath, his hands steady as he poured the clear liquid into the small shot glasses lined up between you. The familiar scent of vodka filled the air, a sharp contrast to the subdued atmosphere that had settled over the table.

"You really went with vodka first?" you quipped lightly, a hint of amusement coloring your tone despite the nerves that fluttered in your stomach.

Suguru chuckled softly, the sound familiar and comforting. "It's the closest to grab!" he replied with a half-smile, his eyes meeting yours briefly before returning his attention to the task at hand.

A moment later, you both raised the glasses to your lips, the cool liquid burning slightly as it slid down your throat. The familiar warmth spread through you, a mixture of nerves and determination mingling in the shared ritual. As you set the empty glasses back on the table, a sense of tenderness settled between you. Liquid courage settled tremendously well.

"Here goes nothing, Sugu." you murmured, meeting Suguru's gaze with a mixture of apprehension and resolve.

"Nothing we can't handle, doll." he replied softly, his voice carrying a reassurance that eased the lingering doubts. 

You shake your head at him, as he smiles as you introduce yourself. "And I play his situationship in Jujutsu Kaisen." you said, breaking the ice. He laughs.

"And I'm Geto Suguru." he replied, smiling faintly. “I also play their situationship in Jujutsu Kaisen.”

"We used to date each other.” you continued, looking at him.

"Is dating the right word?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yeah, I think it could be the right one." you nodded. "I mean, people who date also live together!" 

"For many happy years, I may add." he added, and you both laughed at the shared memory. “Those were the days.”

"I guess that's how we know each other. Then, we broke up a few months ago." You said, the laughter fading into a more somber mood. 

“That really killed the mood so fast in the studio!” Suguru laughs. “We are so sorry about that.”

“I feel like I need a penalty shot for that.” You laughed with him.

“Should I pour some whiskey for that?”

“Yeah, why not?” You say as you watched him pour the whiskey

"Okay," Suguru said, raising his glass. "Cheers."

“Cheers.” You clink your glass with his and you start drinking. 

It was your turn to pick up a flashcard, your fingers trembling slightly as you lifted it from the pile. Across the table, Suguru had already started sipping his chaser, a nervous habit that betrayed the gravity of the game you were about to play.

"Am I a better lover than who you're currently with?" you asked, your voice steady despite the sudden seriousness that settled over the conversation.

Suguru paused mid-sip, his expression shifting from casual to contemplative. "I'm not currently going out with anyone, that's for sure." he admitted quietly, setting down his glass. His gaze met yours, earnest and vulnerable. "And because of that, yes. You are a better lover. Probably always will be my best lover."

The honesty in his words took you aback, a mix of validation and melancholy washing over you. To hear Suguru acknowledge the depth of your connection, even amidst the uncertainties that had driven you apart, stirred a tumult of emotions within.

"I..." You faltered, unsure how to respond to such candid admission. The weight of his words hung between you, echoing the intensity that had defined your relationship. “That was not the answer I was expecting from you. I thought you were already dating.”

“I doubt that I could get over you very quickly.” Suguru sighs.

"Do you think they feel the same way?" a female staff voice interjected.

“Do you?” Suguru turned to look at you.

“Yeah.” You responded to him a moment later. “I’m also not seeing anyone, so…. I doubt that I could think anything of it.”

“If you were dating someone, would you feel like that too?” The staff once more interjected with a question.

You hummed. “I think…..probably. Suguru and I dated for a long time. And I was loved in ways that people can never even fathom. Only he has been able to do that.”

Suguru looked at you for a moment, as though he saw the universe in your eyes. He felt the heat pierce his cheek. “I think I need to get a drink on that.”

“Go for it.” You say, blushing just as equally bad. “I’ll drink with you.”

You both drink together, your eyes lowering at the intensity of his gaze. “You stare at me too much.”

"Can’t help it,” Suguru whispered, his voice a soft admission of vulnerability and lingering affection.

His eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of warmth passing between you before he glanced down at the flashcards scattered between you on the table. Each card held a potential truth, a shard of their past waiting to be explored.

“I guess it’s my turn,” he murmured, his fingers lingering over the cards as he chose one with a thoughtful deliberation.

As Suguru flipped over the card, you held your breath, uncertain of what awaited. The air in the cafe seemed charged with anticipation, the ambient sounds fading into a distant hum as he prepared to reveal the next piece of their shared story.

With a steadying breath, Suguru read aloud, his voice steady yet tinged with emotion. “Do you regret how things ended between us?”

“I do.” You responded to him, confidently. “I feel like I was an adult and I should have been able to be an adult in that situation with you. But instead, I acted like a child when I should have settled down too.”

“No, but I feel like I hold the most at fault for that.” Suguru says as he leaned forward, straightening his posture. “There was really no reason for me, even if I was stressed and exhausted, for me to have reacted to you that way.”

“You were exhausted that time too.” You smiled at him softly. “I don’t think I could hold it against you.”

“Just like I don’t hold it against you that you were exhausted waiting for me and trying for me to figure things out.” Suguru replied back. “You don’t deserve that and I’m glad you stood your ground and put yourself first when you needed to.”

“I was waiting for something like that from you.” You retorted back to him, your smile turning emotional. “I’m glad that you gave it to me.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” His face softens, the hurt in his eyes palpable. 

You shook your head. “It’s alright, we’re alright.”

“It’s your turn.”

"Did you ever cheat on me, and if you did, what was the reason?” You read the card, looking at him. “Did you ever do it?”

"I've had some pretty solid opportunities, doll." he admitted to you. “But I never thought about it.”

"Is that a no?" You pressed.

"It’s a no.” He tells you, and you could see it in his eyes, he was honest. “I had you, doll. I don’t think I needed to have anyone else.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re telling the truth.”

“How about you? Did you ever cheat on me?" Suguru asked, turning the question back on you.

"No. The fuck?" You replied, offended. He laughs. “I would never.”

“I really don’t think we had the energy to do something like that.”

You nodded, looking at the camera. “Our managers are behind the camera. When we tell you that our schedules were so packed….there wasn’t even room to pee!”

“I say that every time we have to do a reshoot because Satoru made a funny face.” Suguru added. “Gojo–kesa isn’t easy to remove everyone. Especially when you need to pee!”

“I think we got too far ahead of ourselves here.” You retorted as you drank your chaser. “That got me thirsty.”

“To everyone, we did not in fact cheat on each other.” Suguru makes an ‘x’ sign with his arms. “We broke up normally, like some couples do.”

"Let's keep going," You said with a laugh, trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground. 

"How long did it take you to get over us, and what did you do to help yourself get over it?" Suguru asked.

"I think I'm gonna take a drink." I said, dodging the question with a laugh. 

“It’s only been a few months, so I don’t think that’s an easy thing to answer.” He laughs with you.

“Yeah, you’re right about that one.” 

He winks at you. “I always am, doll.”

“My turn.” You say, picking up a card. "Do you think I'll be a great spouse?"

"Definitely." he said without hesitation, looking at you tenderly. "I wanted you to be mine, you know?"

"I know." You whispered, tears threatening to fall.

“Hey don’t cry now.”

“It’s the alcohol, don’t worry.”

"What was your least favorite thing I did to you in bed?" he asked.

"Well, my least favorite thing that you did to me in bed," You began, trying to keep my voice steady, "I think it's to not make love with me. You once slept on me before we could start something.”

"I can see that being your least favorite thing." Suguru snickered. 

You pointed to the camera. “Lesson 101 folks, tell your partner beforehand!”

"When did you know it was over?" He asked, taking his turn. 

"When your work and your friends become bigger than me." You said honestly. “I really didn’t know where we were and you kept telling me that it was fine and your friends told me it was fine. I think I was not understanding my place with you at the time.”

"Hmm. I didn't feel like all that became a priority. I think I was having a hard time trying to understand how to slow down from the work that was my life." He explained to you, as you nodded. "You know? And that was my fault. I feel like that community I had understood that and didn’t question it.”

“But that needed to be questioned.”

“Yeah, because it affected what we had. And that wasn’t fair to you.”

You nodded in surrender. “Yeah, that was it.”

"I'm sorry for all of it, doll." He whispered back to you. “That it hurt you.”

“It’s all in the past.” You whispered to him. 

"If you could erase every thought of me, would you?" you asked, your voice breaking.

"Fuck, no! There would be nothing to feel pleasure about at night.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. You smacked his hand, laughing so hard. “I’m sorry, that was a crude joke.”

"No, that's okay.” You whispered back at him, laughter subsiding. “That makes me feel really good about myself, actually.”

"It should make you feel beautiful, doll. All the expensive towels at home die because of you.” he teased.

"Alright, I'm gonna forget the towel thing now." you said, rolling your eyes as you tried not to laugh. "Why do I keep getting these cards? I dare you to take a body shot off me, or you have to take two shots."

"Was it two shots?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was two shots for you, Sugu." you confirmed.

“Okay, I’ll take the shots.” Suguru says as he gritted his teeth, pouring whiskey on two shot glasses. “This is not a good think for me later.”

“He still has to record a song later.” You say, laughing as he puts the bottle back and starts taking a shot. “I feel like you’d do fine though. You aren’t that much of a light weight.”

“I think so, but it would be emotional in the booth.”

“Oh then, cry it out!”

"This is a good question!" Suguru said, holding up a card for his turn. "If you could do it over again, what would you change?"

"I don't think I'd change anything, for our previous relationship.” You tell him honestly. “I think it ended when it needed to.”

“Yeah.”

“But I’m not putting the door to a close yet, I don’t know what would happen.” You whispered back at him with a soft smile. “But given the chance, similar to the question, how would you make it better?”

"I would put in more time, doll." he admitted to you. “I think I’d put you as my priority and what future we have together first.”

"That would be cool.” You said softly.

"I fucked up." he sighed, looking at you softly.

"Would you do it again?" You asked, your heart in your throat. “Would you take another shot at it, Sugu?”

"You know the answer, doll." he said, avoiding my gaze. He picks up another card. "Do you still love me?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Of course." You said, your voice trembling as you smiled. Your eyes water with emotion. "I think I always will.”

“I guess I’m the love of your life, huh?”

“You know that already.” You sniff, laughing.

“That I do.”

“Are you happy with our current relationship?" You asked him, turning to him as he slowly smiles.

"Doll, are you happy with everything right now?" he countered.

“With all that’s going on in my life?” He nodded at you. “Yeah, I’m happy. Some days are bad, but you know….I’m happy. You taught me how.”

"Good.”

“Huh?”

 “Then the answer is yes." Suguru smiles at you, with that same smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. “I’m happy.”

"Really?” You were taken aback, smiling as your face wells in your tears. “I don’t know what to say, Sugu.”

"You don’t have to say anything.” He whispers, leaning forward as he wipes your tears away. “As long as you’re happy. It’s more than enough for me to be happy too.”

"I wished that would have been enough, when we were together.” You whispered back to him. “I would have loved to hear that from you.”

"I know.” He smiles at you, pained. “I wish I could tell you more.”

"'I wanted to be with you for a long time." You admit to him, tears flowing more. He wipes them all away. “I really thought I would end up having forever with you.”

"Do you think your past break up has had closure, you two?" the staff’s voice asked, cutting through the emotional moment.

“I don’t think there’s ever going to be closure between the two of us.” You admit to them, almost as though it was a fact. “He’s my person, you know? I think the fact that we’re not together, it just…it's hard to know how there could be anything, but pining.”

“How about you, Suguru?”

"I think about them often and it hurts knowing that we're not going to have any closure.” He whispers as he too starts feeling his eyes sting with tears. He takes your hand into his and you squeeze back.

“You know, when the future changes everything so fast. And I just don’t know what to do, because they’ll always be my muse. And I’ll think about all these years, wondering whatever happened to the love of my life.”

He wipes his tears. “Fuck, I can’t see anything with these tears.”

"Hey, you wanna wipe our tears away with alcohol?" you suggested, attempting a smile through the lingering pain that tugged at your heart.

Suguru looked at you, his eyes softening as he nodded. "Yeah, let's go." 

He pours the drinks and raises his shot glass, his faint smile touching his lips. "I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I am genuinely so lucky to have you in my life and I am so very lucky to have you as my muse. I hope you have nothing but happiness, love and joy, doll, my love.” 

"Cheers, Sugu." You said softly, lifting my glass and clinking it against his.

"Cheers, doll." Suguru echoed as he downs his.

The sound of applause from the crew and staff filling the room as you both toasted farewell to your shared past and a hello to your uncertain future. The weight of our emotions mingled with the bittersweet taste of the drink, of the complexities of love and the resilience of the human spirit.

You smiled at him as you stood up from your own chair, being handed your bouquet of sunflowers — your favorite as you were thanked by everyone.  And Suguru, being thanked by the other staff for his hard work with his own bouquet.

After the taping concluded, Suguru and you met at the lobby of the studio. The staff had already gone and left and your managers were waiting for your drivers outside. The atmosphere is still buzzing with the energy of the show and the lingering emotions from your candid revelations. You exchanged tentative smiles, a mixture of relief and uncertainty evident in your eyes.

"I'm glad we did this, doll." Suguru admitted softly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I feel... I feel like this is the happiest I've been in a long time, just being here with you."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words.. "I feel the same, Sugu.” You confessed, meeting his gaze with a sincerity that echoed through the quiet lobby. “It was…..something that relieved me.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between the two of you, until Suguru broke the silence with a gentle smile. "Well, I have a recording session to get to, doll." he said, his tone tinged with regret. "But I wanted to say... I wish you all the luck in the world with everything, you know?"

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat as you struggled to find the right words. "Thank you." You finally managed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

As Suguru turned to leave, a thought seemed to strike him, hesitating for a moment before he looked back at you with a hopeful expression. "Hey, are you free to hang out on Friday?" he asked, his voice quietly hopeful.

You couldn't help but return his smile, the warmth spreading through you once more. "Yeah, Sugu." You replied softly, the weight of uncertainty lifting slightly.  “I am."

Relief washed over Suguru's features, a genuine happiness coloring his expression as he nodded. "Great," he said, his voice filled with quiet excitement. "I'll... I'll text you the details.”

"Is your number still the same?" You asked, a mix of nervousness and hope in your voice as Suguru paused, turning back towards you.

"Yeah, I never changed it," he whispered softly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Did... you?"

"No," You replied, relief flooding through him as you returned his smile. "I didn't."

"Great," Suguru nodded, his expression almost visibly lighter with relief. "I'll just... text you."

With that, he turned again, his steps echoing softly on the polished floor as he made his way towards the exit. You watched him go, feeling a surge of gratitude and anticipation welling up within me. The weight that had pressed on your heart for so long seemed to lift, replaced by some hope.

As Suguru disappeared from view, You couldn't suppress the smile that spread across your face. The promise of a future, uncertain yet filled with hope, stretched out before you, the both of you. And as you stood there, in the quiet of the studio lobby, you knew that whatever came next, you both had taken a small but significant step to take.

Maybe one day there will be more than this.

But for now, you were grateful for this moment.

You were grateful to have another chance to joy.

[inmyheaddd]

beneath the surface - averyjameson

a/n: literally couldn’t write them fighting for another second because they are the cutest couple 💔 masterlist wc: 735 taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @littlemissmentallyunstable @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary

@heartwithsimplenotes @whatsamongus @anintellectualintellectual

“everyone says that we’re “such opposites”, wondering how do we even stand eachother, how we’re even together, dammit, jameson, maybe they’re right!”

her hands moved around as she spoke. they’d been fighting for the last 10 minutes, but their voices only started to really pick up just now. they both hated yelling, but there they were. 

“you really think that?” a chuckle escaped his mouth as his voice grew louder. 

“yes jameson, i do! i-  i don’t get it sometimes.” her voice quivered as she yelled, taking a breath and speaking again before she could stop herself. “i don’t get you.” she let it out quietly, she didn’t even want to say it out loud — didn’t even want to think of it as a possibility. 

the crease in his brows dissipated immediately, his face was telling more signs of concern and anxiety now. “heiress, you get me more than anyone ever has.” his voice was quieter now and he stepped closer, eyes never leaving hers as he cradled her face with his hands.

“then let me know,” she pleaded, her eyes glossy, “tell me, jameson. you keep silent about all these feelings and you don’t open up, you just pretend you’re all happy and drink your hurt away.” 

his hands dropped from her face, and that somehow hurt more than any words could. “you want to talk about not opening up? avery, i love you, goddammit, but you can’t tell me about how you’re feeling for the life of you.” 

avery was silent as she swallowed thickly, knowing that he was right. 

she expected him to say more, to continue to tell her how awful she was, how much of a burden she is. but nothing came, only heaving, heavy pants from jameson and a headache on her end already starting to seep in.

“i know. i’m sorry, i know.” she couldn’t meet his eyes, her chin slightly dropping.

“heiress, i can’t tell you about how im feeling when i take one look at your face, and know you’re hurting much more than you could possibly bear. it’s impossible.” he raised his hand back up to gently raise her chin. 

“i love you.” he said it like he meant it with his whole being, and he did.

“i love you.” she mirrored back. “i’m sorry. i’m trying, i really am, but ive gotten so used to—“ 

she cut herself off, seeing the look on jameson’s face, he knew her inside and out, knew all the reasons of why and how she did things. he didn’t need to hear her say it, and it would only hurt her. he knew that.

“i’m just… i’m sorry.” 

“heiress, you have nothing to be sorry for. and i’m sorry for ever giving you the idea that you had to be.”  

she shook her head, opening her mouth to speak but jameson took over.

“please don’t try and defend me, let me say this. you deserve the world and i want to be the one to give it to you.” both of his hands were on her face again, “i have this nagging feeling that telling you how i’m hurting makes me less than. i just want to be perfect for you, in a sense.” 

“jameson,” she shook her head, “it doesn’t make you less than, it makes you human. you’re absolutely perfect for me. you’re perfect in every sense.” 

jameson’s eyes flickered to her lips, then back up to her eyes, silently asking for permission to kiss her. he felt like his words would betray him, like they could never convey just how much he truly appreciated her.

avery leaned in and their lips immediately found a rythym against each other. he could taste the salt from her tears earlier, and silently hoped that it would be the last time.

as avery pulled back and rested her forehead on his, she whispered into the space between them, “i hate fighting with you.” 

“i know. you have no idea how much i hate it.” 

“i want us to be better.” she sniffled with her eyes closed, “i don’t want to lose you.”

jameson’s hand slid down to intertwine with hers, “you’re never going to lose me.” he promised, 

“we’ll figure this out. we always do. no more silence, no more hiding, no more running away from what scares us.” 

avery lightly squeezed his hand, “we’ll figure this out.” she echoed. 

jameson pulled her into a hug, and the silence suddenly felt a lot less heavy. they weren’t perfect, but they were trying — for eachother. 

[sentientgolfball]

hello, may I ask for:

¹²⁾ “no underwear?”

with Dew and Swiss? Maybe feminization, Dew wearing a skirt, if you are okay with it? >:)

You said Dew in a skirt and I blacked out

Swiss has been staring at Dew all night. Really all of them have, but Swiss was the most obvious. Can you blame him though and Dew looks like that? 

The pack had decided they had enough lazy days after returning from tour, so they threw on their glamours and hit the town for a night of bar hopping. When Dew walked into the common area where everyone was gathered waiting to leave they almost didn’t make it outside. He was in a skin tight, short little black dress. His hair was down with just the smallest bit of Infernal magick streaming out of his glamour to make it seem like it was glowing. The dress was strapless with the back cutout. His eyes raked over everyone with the smallest knowing smirk. 

“So are we going or what?” 

They were already at their third bar of the night. Some shitty little concert club Swiss couldn’t remember the name of. He could barely remember his own name with the way he’s captivated watching Dew dance with Rain. It was unfair how gorgeous Dew looked. It was unfair that Rain was the one who has been glued to him the entire night. Swiss nearly growled watching Rain’s had grab Dew’s waist, traveling down and around to drag to the tips of his fingers down Dew’s spine. Dew leaned into the touch, back to chest, and looked up at him with half lidded eyes. 

“Careful there Sparky” Cirrus nudges him, amusement in her voice. 

“Huh? What?” 

Cirrus stares at him waiting for him to get it. The longer he looks at her with confusion the more he starts to notice it. He sighs with a groan and works on strengthening his glamour, hiding the claws and fangs that had begun to slip out. 

“Good boy” she pats his cheek “we can’t keep having incidents or they’ll never let us leave again.” 

“I find it insulting you’d think I’d pull a Rain.” 

“We sent you into the bathroom to go take care of a murder scene and instead you had sex can you blame me?” 

“Hey to be fair I had sex and helped Rain clean it up. I was summoned to multitask, baby.” 

Cirrus rolls her eyes but there’s a grin on her face as she takes a sip of her drink. Swiss returns his attention to the two dancing ghouls and almost wishes he hadn’t. Rain has Dew pulled against him, one hand around his waist the other around his neck. Rain had his lips to his ear as the two grind against each other. That was the last straw for Swiss. He jumped out of his seat and made his way over to them. Dew held eye contact with him the whole way. Rain glared at him when he was close enough to speak to them over the loud music. 

“Mind if I have a turn with our lovely Spitfire, Rainy?”

If looks could kill, Swiss would be a dead man. His hold on Dew tightened. 

“Aw come on Rainy baby don’t you know sharing is caring?” 

“Who said I cared?” Rain glares at him before kissing down Dew’s neck. 

Swiss steps closer with a grin on his face “Getting a little bold are we?” 

“Care to find out?” 

“Alright you two cut the shit no one needs to pull a Mountain” Dew wiggles out of Rain’s grasp. Rain scowls at him. 

“Come on rainstorm it won’t kill you to let me play with Swiss for a bit. Besides, you have to make good on those promises when we get back” Dew pats him on the cheek with a wide grin. 

Rain just scoffs, pulls him in for a quick filthy kiss, and walks off to the booth the pack claimed when they arrived. They watch him go before Dew crowds into Swiss’ space. 

“What now Sparky? You got me all to yourself.” 

Swiss immediately wraps his hand around Dew’s wrist, dragging him to the nearest bathroom. Swiss locks the door once they’re inside before bending down to suck a mark over the spot Rain kissed. Dew laughs and tilts his head back to give him more room to work. 

“Real fucking excited aren’t ya?” 

��You have no fucking idea Spitfire.” 

Swiss takes a step forward, causing Dew to be pushed against the door. The fire ghoul thread his hands through his hair and hooks one legs over his hip. Swiss uses the new angle to his advantage, running his hand up Dew’s thigh before slipping under the hem of his dress. He gasps. 

“No underwear?” 

“Didn’t want lines” Dew shrugs.

“UhHuh that’s the reason.” 

Dew laughs and grinds his hips forward against Swiss’ hand. The multi ghoul brings Dew into a filthy kiss as he grabs at Dew’s cock, stroking him fully hard. Teeth clack together as Swiss makes an effort to shove his tongue down his throat. Swiss brings his other hand around to Dew’s back. He pets gently over the exposed skin for only a moment before dipping before the hem to slide a finger between his cheeks. 

Dew lets go of his hold on Swiss to pull the dress up to bunch around his hips. Swiss gives him a look. 

“What? This shit was expensive, I'm not ruining it.” 

“Oh I’ll ruin something.” 

Swiss latches onto Dew’s neck, sucking and nibbling where his gill scars would be under the glamour. He probes his finger against Dew’s asshole, huffing out a laugh when he feels wetness. He continues slowly stroking his dick as he slides the tip of his finger inside of Dew. He groans into Swiss’ neck before licking up the column of his throat to taste his mixed elemental flavor. There’s an underlying taste of whiskey and spice that Dew can’t get enough of. Dew sighs when he feels Swiss curl the finger that’s inside of him. Swiss slips a second finger into him and Dew keens, biting into the side of his neck. 

“Good fucking girl” Swiss thrusts his fingers in and out of Dew. 

He laughs when he feels his cock kick in the hand, blurting a glob of pre into his fist. 

“Shit you’re so pretty Spitfire. Need you to get all dolled up like this more.” 

Swiss strokes him faster, content to feel him clench around his fingers with every twist of his fist over his head. Dew groans when he feels him slipping a third finger into his ass. His hips twitch forward, fucking into Swiss’ fist with each downward stroke. 

“Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum” Swiss frantically pressed kisses into Dew’s skin. 

Dew groans “When have I ever been a good girl?” 

Swiss thrusts his fingers into Dew, curling inside of him and that’s all it takes. Dew bites Swiss’ shoulder with a grunt, spilling hot into his hand. Swiss licks and kisses every part of skin he can get his mouth on until Dew’s legs stop shaking. He takes one more deep inhale of his campfire and cinnamon scent before pulling away. He grins at Dew before bringing his hands to his mouth, cleaning his slick and his cum from his fingers with a moan. 

Dew takes a moment to catch his breath, smoothing out his hair and his dress. 

“You know Mount’s gonna go ballistic when you walk back out there smelling like me.” 

“Well at the very least it won’t end with another code murder” Swiss laughs “but I think he’ll be distracted by another scent.” 

Dew raises his eyebrow at Swiss, scanning over his face until it hits him like a truck. 

“No fucking way. You didn’t” Dew laughs. 

“You’re the one who decided to wear a slutty little black dress” Swiss shrugs. 

“Oh Mounty is definitely gonna lose his fucking mind” Dew palms the front of Swiss’ pants, making shudder with the feeling of his cum before spread around. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go entertain a water ghoul” Dew gives him a quick kiss before leaving the bathroom.

[astarions-wife]

I can’t believe it’s come to the point of analyzing Cazador for all of you, but considering the amount of “Cazador can be redeemed!” And “Cazador x reader” I’ve seen, I feel like i need to make this.

So you feel pity for Cazador because he also suffered at the hands of his master. Good. That’s the point. You should feel something for Cazador, he also suffered abuse, and was dragged into the cycle of it by Vellioth. It’s awful, it’s terrible, but it doesn’t mean he’s redeemable.

Very much so, when Cazador kills Vellioth and chooses to start the cycle of power and abuse over again, he was too far gone. He made the choice, the conscious choice to be the same as his old master. Of course he’s suffering internally, somewhere is the soul of someone who lost everything, and became something awful. However he doesn’t even say he wishes for a reset. He wishes for death. Only in death is he free of the cycle of abuse, for his role in it is too far gone at this point.

“Orin and Gortash have apologists!” They do, but they’re also under different circumstances. It’s also justifiable to absolutely hate Orin and Gortash (believe me, even as someone who believes Gortash could’ve been better, I killed him in my initial run). Specifically as the Dark Urge, you can tell Orin that she’s being used just as Kethric and Gortash were. She’ll even break down as if she’s realizing that all this death she’s done in the name of her father/for her God, has been her being taken advantage of. Though she never gets a chance to be better, because she’s forcibly transformed in this ending, it’s just a sneak peak of what could have been. She was being used, and while it doesn’t erase or justify ANYTHING she did (and you’re well within your right, and should hold her accountable), it at least gives the player insight on to what could have been.

Likewise with Gortash, a victim of abuse at the hands of Raphael, with canonical lines on how he was beaten in the House of Hope as a little boy. His own parents sold him out, and he ended up being so desperate to be bigger, to have more power, that he also let himself be used, and in turn lost everything he worked hard for (and sold out Karlach, which is absolutely unforgivable of course). However he wasn’t too far gone. You can see his loyalty to you depending what options you pick, and although death is his inevitable end, it still shows that there was still a person inside.

There wasn’t a person in Cazador anymore. He was trapped behind the wall of abuse that he continued, and refused to even acknowledge it, or try and see reason. Perhaps it wasn’t possible for him, but ultimately his actions brought him here. Those that say Ascension for Astarion would free him of those chains, are simply wrong. Why does Astarion deserve to live, anymore than his siblings? Or the seven thousand people who were turned against their will? Of course Astarion is more, controlled in his hunger—but so are his siblings. Even speaking to them after the fight they’ll all vow and attest that they can control themselves, and they’ll even help the others if brought to it.

Ascended Astarion picks up the abuse cycle, killing thousands of people with just his first command. Ascended Astarion no longer speaks to you, but instead at you. You’re his “favorite” spawn, but then again Cazador had favorites didn’t he? And all of them suffered just as badly as the rest. Ascended Astarion even mentions “covering the world in darkness for his spawn”, which shows him continuing the abusive cycle that got Cazador in the first place.

Cazador dying, and spawn Astarion choosing to break the cycle is the significant ending. The best ending for Cazador, the only one for him, is to let him die. He’s a horrible, cruel, bitter man, and any sense of his humanity died long ago. Only in his dreams is there anything left, and he’s too cut off to even reach them anymore.

We also know that the Szarr’s had family. There are relatives to Cazador (see his niece), and clearly it wouldn’t have been wrong of him as a vampire to have a family if he so chose. But he didn’t seek out a partner, like some of his other (vampire) relatives did. He chose to only live by his spawn, whom he considered his children, showing that he truly didn’t see a need for a partner. Themes of family are a vital part of his story, but the element of a romantic partner never has been.

TLDR—Some villains in this game are understood, and potentially redeemable if given the option. Cazador is not one of them.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Could you do a platonic crew with a reader who has a devilfruit that gives them similar abilities to deadpool (aka any injury regenerates)- but unlike deadpool they can die if they gain enough damage, but the reader doesn’t realise/accept this and constantly risks their life for the crew cause they think they’ll be okay?

Yandere Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.2k words

Warning for descriptions of serious injuries

“Dammit, let me out!”

You yank on the infirmary door again despite knowing what a waste of time it was. With an aggravated huff, you turn around and shamble back to the bed. Your body was in agony from the wounds you took on today. Even though your devil fruit was working hard to fix it, this would take time to fully heal and stop hurting. It’s probably best to lay down for a bit, you just wish you could do so in your own bed.

They’re all over reacting, and they know it. You’re borderline immortal, and sure, you cut it a little close this time, but you were fine now! The battle was over, it’s not like you’re in any danger. 

You’re aware that your devil fruit can be unsettling at times, it’s unnatural to see someone recover from what would be a mortal wound for anyone else. Even Chopper couldn’t help but look disturbed when they found you after you threw yourself over a bomb. The explosion mostly damaged your legs, even taking one off entirely. 

The worst part though was the piece of shrapnel that shot up and cut open your abdomen. If it weren’t for you manually holding the wound shut, your organs would’ve all spilled out onto the ground.

Chopper had given you some painkillers to hold you over until you finished healing, but they can only do so much against something this severe. You roll onto your side to grab the water from the bedside table, but an intense pain shoots through you, making you drop it on the ground.

The glass shatters on impact, and you drop your head back onto your pillow with a groan. As you attempt to slip out of the bed again to pick up the broken glass, the door is thrown open and Chopper rushes in, “I heard something break! What hap- Get back in the bed!”

He ran over to you and shooed you back into lying down, “You’re too hurt to be moving around like this!” 

“I’m already mostly healed, it’s not like I’m going to die,” you grumbled, annoyed that you even have to state this. Everyone on board is well aware of how your powers work.

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” Chopper stopped picking up glass and snapped his head towards you. Tears were pouring down his face, but he forced himself to speak through them, “Y-You won’t know what is going to be enough to kill you until it’s too late!”

Now you just felt bad. You care about your crew, and making them cry is not something you ever want to do. Even if you have done so multiple times. Awkwardly, you reach out to put your hand on his shoulder, “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Chopper aggressively rubs at his eyes and sniffles loudly, “You n-need to stop d-doing this! I hate it, everyone hates it! We’re all-”

“Chopper.”

Both of you snap your attention to the door, where Luffy is standing. His hat is obscuring his eyes, but you can feel them on you regardless. What’s worse, he’s openly frowning. That’s never a good sign, especially not after you’ve landed yourself back in the infirmary.

The ship’s doctor walked out without another word, closing the door behind him. Now it’s just you and Luffy. He’s eerily silent as he approaches your bed and takes a seat at the foot of it. You can already guess where this is going. He’s going to tell you to stop acting like you’re the only one who can protect everyone else and to let others help. 

You’ve had this conversation with him many times. It’s not like you were intentionally trying to go against his words, you wanted to heed his orders and be a good crewmate, really! It’s just that whenever you are in the heat of the moment, you instinctively put yourself in harm’s way. You could take damage better than anyone, what else were you supposed to do?

“You’re done.”

Your blood ran cold in your veins, “Excuse me?”

“I said you’re done, we’re not letting you do this again,” Luffy stated plainly, like it was the most obvious conclusion to come to. 

You attempt to sit up, but the pain that shoots through you brings that to a halt. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you kicking me out?” You ground out.

“I never said that. You’re just done fighting, that’s it,” Luffy finally lifted his head enough for you to make eye contact with him, and you wish he hadn’t. The look in his eyes is so intense that your argument died on your tongue. “Is that understood?”

“Wha… What else am I-”

Luffy’s hand clamped over your mouth, you see anger flicker across his face as he grinds his teeth together, “Don’t argue with me! I’m sick of you never listening! I’m your captain, if I say you’re done, then you’re done!” His voice raises in volume with every word until he’s practically screaming at you.

Tears drip onto your face as he looms above you, hiccupping as his own sorrow overcomes him. “Why do you keep doing this? Why do you act like you’re going to survive no matter what? You almost died!” He abruptly lets go of your mouth and collapses on top of your body, clutching onto you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. His hat tumbles off his head and onto the bed beside you.

His weight feels uncomfortable on your recovering injuries, but you don’t say anything. Lightly, you bring a hand up to his head to gently run your fingers through his hair. This action only makes him hold you closer as his cries get louder.

You’re torn. As much as you want to be upset about his previous words to you, it’s impossible to act on those emotions when he’s sobbing on top of you. Your near death clearly bothered him more than you had realized. Were you really in the wrong for acting the way you did? If what you were doing was so great, why was it hurting all your friends so badly?

“I’m sorry,” you croak out as your own eyes start to tear up.

Luffy doesn’t answer. You’re not sure he even heard you over his crying. You can faintly hear hushed words being spoken outside the infirmary door, but there’s nothing you can do right now to hear it better. Your crewmates are no doubt discussing what to do with you now that Luffy was seemingly dead set on not letting you onto a battlefield again.

Hopefully, this was all said because he lost control of his emotions, and when he calms down he’ll change his mind. That had to be the case. I mean really, it’s not like you could just sit back and do nothing while everyone else risked life and limb. You’ll be more careful from now on, for real this time. You’ll take their feelings into consideration before acting so recklessly. It won’t happen again.

Although… it’s unclear if that’s because you’re going to change your ways, or if they are going to make you whether you want to or not.

[dawnisdreamlanding]

CHAPTER 2

Ghost x Reader x Konig

Neighbor! and Roommate!au hehe

About me | Masterlist |

Author's note: Happy Hanukkah! I'd like to say THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT FOR THE FIRST PART AAAA!! I've been wanting to write fanfics for agess but I was always too nervous to hahahdsf so all the support means so much to me, especially for it being my first fic. But less talk, more story, I hope you enjoy part 2! <3

‘Why am I meeting so many tall, buff guys today? Well, not that I’m complaining,’ you chuckle inwardly. Konig’s so tall that when he greets you, he bends down slightly. Talk about being short. You mentally shake that thought away before smiling and telling him to follow you to your apartment.

Everything goes smoothly, and he ends up moving into your apartment the following week. It takes him a couple of days and a little head-banging on the door frame due to his height for him to get used to your shared apartment.

It’s been a month since then. You learn he’s from Austria, and he starts to call you ‘Maus’ which was self-explanatory. But you never really learned anything else other than that. So, to recap, both your neighbor and roommate are both silent and secretive. And they’re hot. You quickly shake that thought away. You shouldn’t be thinking about them like that!

Speaking of Simon, you haven’t seen him for a couple of days. You wonder what he’s doing. After a few extra moments of silence, you realized you’ve spaced out from doing your work. Your gaze lands on the long list of emails you’ll be needing to respond to by tonight, followed by the time on your computer on the bottom right of the screen. ‘7.43 pm’. Ugh, this looks like you’ll be staying back late in the office tonight.

It’s already been a few hours since the last of your coworkers said goodbye to you, and the office lights has been turned off except for your section of the office. The darkness surrounding the office was a little unsettling if you were being honest, but you pressed on with answering those emails. Your phone buzzing makes you jump in your seat and the bright screen in contrast to the surroundings makes you squint a little.

Oh, Konig’s calling. You pick up the call and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to hear someone’s voice after hours of overtime. The line’s a little staticky, but his voice comes through the phone. “Hello, Maus? Where are you?” Konig sounds worried. “Hey Konig!” You try to sound a little upbeat, but your exhaustion comes through nonetheless. “I’m working overtime tonight; I’ll be coming home late.”

Home. You don’t know when you started referring to your apartment as ‘home’, since you’ve always thought your apartment felt so soulless since you moved in. If you think hard about it, the emptiness of your apartment only ever seemed to disappear when Konig’s large frame started to fill in the empty space in your apartment. Despite not knowing much about Konig’s life, the two of you spend quality time together, bonding over shows on Netflix ranging from ‘The Good Place’ to ‘Emily In Paris’. Though you’d have to admit, the more mind-numbing the show is, the more entertaining it is when you hear all Konig’s quips and comments while the two of you watch it. God, you wish you were hanging out at home with Konig now.

“Maus?” Konig calls me once again, snapping me out of my train of thought. “H-huh? Sorry could you repeat that?” I reply. “It’s looks like its about to rain hard tonight, do you need me to bring you home?” his voice gets a little more staticky by the second, and you’re only able to get out a “it’s fine” before the power in the office shuts down.

“Oh hell no,” you say out loud to yourself. You watched enough horror game playthroughs to know that you’re not staying a second longer in office if you want to see another day. Your line gets cut off and you groan. If this isn’t the start of a horror movie.

You managed to exit the office without tripping in the darkness with being little on edge. Little droplets of rain start to fall to the ground, slowly painting the pavement a darker shade of grey with each drop. Your line comes back and you were seconds away from calling Konig to ask him to drive you back home but then a hulking figure leaving the nearby grocery store enters your field of vision.

You are quick to look at this guy because who the hell is he and why is he dressed in all black at night, looking like a robber? Oh my god is he a robber? Oh, it’s your neighbor, Simon. You should really stop bumping into him in such shady situations.

---

Simon ends up driving you back to your apartment complex. This time around, you try to talk to him the car ride there. In between the awkward silences, the two of you managed to bond over some shared bands playing on the radio and you learn that he’s from the military.

“’s not fair that they’re makin you work overtime like this.” Simon grumbles out. “Yeah well, what can I do? Besides, they pay me quite well.” You reply. It was true; the company you worked is quite taxing at times, but the benefits and pay holds you back from quitting.

“Well,” he inhales as he puts his car into park. “If you ever need a lift home, just let me know.” His offer puts a smile on your lips. For someone who you’ve gotten to really know in the span of a 20 minute car ride, he has a heart of gold. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

He has the manners to walk you back all the way to your apartment — you ignore the fact he lives literally right next to you — and makes sure you enter your apartment safely before unlocking his own door.

 You sigh and drop your bag onto the floor. Your eyelids feel really dry and the constant urge to get some shut eye makes the tasks of getting ready for bed seem to stretch on for far too long. Part of you debates on sacrificing dinner so you can sleep a little earlier but that’s when you hear Konig call out for you in the kitchen.

“Eat.” He speaks. “I cooked dinner for the both of us, but I didn’t know you were staying in the office.” A slight pang of guilt shoots through you at the thought of Konig waiting alone at the dinner table for you to come home. “Thanks, Konig.” I smile at him. “I’m glad to be home.”

Konig tries to ignore the warmth that creeps up on him during moments like these. His eyes naturally drink in the sight of you sitting across the table, happily munching on the food he’s cooked you. Fuck, maybe being a househusband wouldn’t be so bad, especially if its for you. He quickly shakes off that thought. He kills. He likes to kill. What was he even thinking?

“Emily in Paris?” he suggests when you finish your dinner. You sigh and shake your head. “Sorry, too tired, Ko.” The nickname slips out of your mouth so easily that you don’t notice it, but he does. His body freezes up and his brain short circuits. He’s so focused on the nickname you used for him that he doesn’t even feel sadness when you rejected his suggestion. He hums in acknowledgement.

“Maybe this weekend?” You say and he nods, watching you turn to head into your room. He decides not to tell you he’s leaving for work that weekend. Leaving to kill people. “Next weekend.” He confirms. You smile tiredly at him and the warm yellow light illuminates your features. “Goodnight, Konig.” God, he wishes you could call him Ko again. “Goodnight, Maus.”

Taglist! @gojo-mochi

[brokenmachinemusings]

so. what’s up with diving?

a lot of people tend to think that diving is some paradoxical thing which has happened but also hasn’t at the same time.

i’m here to say; no it isn’t. all dives did not happen originally, and alter the course of time later.

there are plenty of other posts who go into more detail than mine will, and they mostly focus on season two.

i’m here to focus a bit more on s1. not in detail, just pointing some things out before i go completely batshit. and some thoughts. actually, mostly thoughts.

well, in short, diving never actually happened before the aforementioned dive, which in turn — not always, but usually alters the timeline. sometimes the changes are so minimal it’s barely consequential — sometimes they’re so important they kill someone, get someone stabbed, or save them. obviously, the butterfly effect.

i really do wish i could go in depth in this post outside of my simple disorganized thought processes but i don’t have the time or energy for that. alas, physical as well as mental illness and busy schedules strike again.

studio lan also likes to play around with these concepts. maybe to throw us off, maybe to hint towards the bigger picture, who knows.

well. that’s not what this post is about. i just wanted to point out some examples. which are, here, as goes;

while rewatching, i’m still on ep1, but the most obvious thing is emma upsetting the cup. hers is more of an accident, obviously just spilling over the table.

cheng xiaoshi WHACKS that cup. while it might be for comedic effect, i see quite literally no one pointing this out — and it spins around and hits mr. zhu’s head. and then falls on his pants, which is the timeline reorienting itself.

the next example is have, which is on top of my head, is one that really baffles my mind how i don’t see anyone speaking about xu shanshan more. while lu guang watches the photo, she’s giggly about the message she receives and we all know it cuts off right before liu min enters her apartment — well, that’s not important, but i did want to point out how she’s giddy.

cheng xiaoshi simply solemnly stares into her phone as he reads dong yi’s message. which might be a whole can of worms to unpack later, but either way, it always struck me as kind of odd.

we don’t have concrete evidence that xu shanshan was murdered — but in my personal theory, she was in the original show’s timeline (not the og tl itself), before cheng xiaoshi managed to overwrite it. from her being depicted as a victim once, to cheng xiaoshi’s plan — i doubt li tianchen or liu min cared enough about her to actually have to go through with it.

anyway, i do think cheng xiaoshi’s plan practically worked, especially since li tianchen managed to go “oh shit, there’s people with my type of power, i must see this,” and actually left her alone.

i do think some kind of “alternative timeline” was mentioned, but that’s kind of evading my memory right now. i’ll get back in on you in the next 100 business days. maybe more or less.

well, i completely forgot to mention xss being mentioned in the newspaper after cheng xiaoshi’s whole meddling which ended up with her turning into a victim — again, kinda steering the timeline. and again, another butterfly effect, considering that turns into xu shanshan dying having to make a plan to avoid her death, catching liu min, lu guang getting stabbed, the li twins, all of s2. which is to say, this is heavily hinted at for not happening in the timelines prior which lu guang had experienced.

ah, speaking of lu guang. sweet boy lu guang. who’s from the future, and considering the timeline being rewritten, he cannot return to the future. this is also implied, or could be a plot hole. considering every time li tianchen touches cheng xiaoshi while the latter is possessing someone, he gets forced out of said body, to the present — as for lu guang, he fully stays there, in the past which isn’t the past, more like a new present or future. with all of his plans intact. sucks that the future he’s aiming for isn’t changing, though.

there’s also the mess which is s2ep8-9. you know, the speedboat episodes. it isn’t quite obvious at first, but lu guang is lu guang the first time. and well, he wasn’t expecting anyone to know his password either. he likely just stashed the phone away for safekeeping, for his own dive, but then the cops found it and cheng xiaoshi decided to dive in — it’s a bit of a mystery on how cheng xiaoshi knew exactly what to do as well. since he was likely very disoriented the first time he was brung out of his possession by li tianchen. well, i’m not one to really delve into this, again there’s other people who have in far more detail than i.

i mean, yes, time nodes are a thing and the timeline reorients itself however it needs to be. no matter how much of change might take place, how out of hand it can get. but it has this margin of error as well. it’s quite odd, really, i can’t quite describe it either.

there’s some kind of mindfuck theory about time not actually being time but i won’t get into that. i don’t remember what it said. but shoutout to you, other theorists.

in short, i don’t think i made this clear due to my incessant rambling; diving always alters the timeline. even if only little deviations happen, it always alters what it was originally supposed to be. and it only happens once, unless you count lu guang diving into himself multiple times… but that isn’t as clear, considering like i said, the future changes — which is stated in the donghua itself, but it changes and he theoretically dives into a different version of himself. theoretically.

well, whatever the case, thanks for reading. hope this makes sense — kind of at least, if you’re interested on my thoughts on anything let me know. or if i forgot to cover some part in more detail.

happy 0913, hope everyone survived well today. i, and cheng xiaoshi, sure didn’t!

[luimagines]

To Cope

Another commission!

They asked for platonic Time, helping/consoling Reader after the death of a loved one.

Masterlist

Content under the cut.

It was hard to explain.

The pain… The pain was enough to shut you down. It was raw. It was deep and primal. It cuts you to the core. It knocks you off your feet. You felt like you were falling even if your feet were still planted on solid ground.

You felt sick. Nauseous.

Tears pricked at your eyes before you could fully control yourself. You counted yourself lucky that there was no one else around you at the moment because if someone saw you, they would ask questions. And you would have to answer. And if you answer, you don’t think you would be able to hold yourself together for as long as you’ve been managing to. Saying it out loud would make it real. And if it was real, then there was no coming back from this.

You had lost them. You weren’t even home and they’re gone. You’re never going to see them again. They won’t be waiting for you when you open that door.

A sob rips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. This isn’t the place to cry. The others are going to hear you. You won’t be able to explain-

A twig snaps somewhere to your right.

You hold yourself tighter, holding your breath as if that’s going to stop them from finding you.

You don’t even bother to look up and see who it is. You curl in tighter, trying to squeeze the pain out of you. The other person pauses. You can’t see them but you can hear that they’ve stopped moving. Slowly, as if they weren’t sure how to go about it, they approached you and sat by your side.

You sniffle, cursing yourself internally. You didn’t want anyone to see you this way. You had hoped that you would return early enough to hide your tears. But now you’ve been caught. You struggle to open your mouth but you still find the courage to speak. “...Go away…”

It's more a plea than a demand. It sounds pathetic. You feel pathetic. It’s too much to hold in and another sob slips past you.

An arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you tightly into their side. “Let it out.”

You gasp and look up. You hadn’t expected Time to find you. He looks at you patiently and you can see the little worry lines beside his eyes. Gently, he raises his other hand and wipes the tears from your cheeks. “You can cry… It’s ok…”

It’s as if the dam broke. Before you can even register the forces in your heart, sobs tumble out of you in a river of emotion. It’s too strong for you to hold back anymore. 

Time turns and pulls you into his arms, holding onto you tightly. It’s just enough for you to let go of your emotions. It’s the strength you wish you had to squeeze your feelings out. 

Your heart hurts. It hurts so much.

Time says nothing and sighs to himself. He brings his hand up to gently run his hand over your head in soothing motions, holding onto you as you cry. You don’t hold him back. You’re still trying to pick up the pieces of your crumbling walls.

Time is ok with this. He doesn’t know all the details about the death of… well… All he knows is that your very world revolved around them. And now they’re gone. He… can only guess what that feels like.

The moment passes and your sobs dissolve into hiccups. You finally grab onto Time and tuck your face into the crook of his neck, looking for comfort from the man. 

He doesn’t hesitate to hold you back. Time holds you tighter than before and starts to gently rock back and forth. 

Eventually your hiccups subside as well but Time doesn’t push you away. 

A beat passes as Time keeps rocking and petting you softly. “I’m sorry.” He says. “I’m sure you wanted to be alone… but this isn’t something you should deal with alone. We’re all here for you.”

You sniffle and keep quiet.

That doesn’t stop Time though. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to move at all tomorrow. Breath. Save your strength.”

You bite your lip, feeling a little indignant. “It hurts, Link. They’re gone and I- I’m- I can’t even-”

“Shh…” Time wipes away the last of the runaway tears. “Don’t. There are many things in this life that we cannot control and there are many things that will happen when we least expect it. We’re simply at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

A whine escapes you. You clutch onto Time like a lifeline, gripping onto his shirt and shoulders as if something threatened to tear you away. Time says nothing about it and simply holds you close.

“...I already miss them.”

“I know.” Time whispers, aching on your behalf. “That feeling won’t go away. You just learn to live with it. You learn to find a new normal.”

You can’t accept his words. It’s too fresh. It’s too recent. You shake your head, threatening to sob once more into his shoulder. “...I don’t want a new normal.”

Time doesn’t want to see you hurting as much as you don’t want to hurt. “You can’t stay this way. They wouldn’t want you to stay this way.”

His words strike a cord and you finally lift your head to look him in the eyes. Time’s heart sinks. You look destroyed. Time wipes your face again, even if the tears are slowing down. “It doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow. All in due time. I’m sorry you’re hurting. I can’t help as much as I’d like.”

You sniffle again and lean in, resting your head on his shoulder once more. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you really needed that cry. “...You’re helping enough… Thank you, Link.”

Time nods and wraps his arms securely around you. “I’m here for you.”

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: You were so close, but some things aren’t meant to be. Pairing: bunny!Jaemin x fem human!reader Tropes: established relationship au, hybrid au Genre: angst, a little fluff Rating:  PG 13 Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of surgery, severe cramping, blood, language miscarriages, lots of crying Word Count: 3,398 Note: Everyone can blame @raibebe for this

Neo Hybridverse Masterlist || Cashmere Lop!Jaemin Masterlist

Jaemin has expressed for years now that he wants multiple kids. You tried so hard for so long to have Miyoung, and she’s more than you could ever ask for. She’s ten months old now and lights up your entire world daily. Her oversized tan floppy ears continuously fall in her face wherever she crawls off to. You giggle slightly each time you hear her make a little annoyed noise. Jaemin is at work right now, so it’s just you and Miyoung at home until late this evening. 

In reality, it’s you, Miyoung, and the tiny unborn baby you just learned about. Most people would be scared or nervous about having two kids so close in age. After all, by the time this baby is born, Miyoung will only be a year and a half old. You aren’t worried about it at all. If you’re being completely honest, you’re rather excited. Jaemin told you not too long ago that he wanted another one already. You can’t blame him, even with your daughter so young. You wanted another one already, too. Once you saw those two little pink lines on three different tests, it was evident that you and your husband got your wish. This time, instead of telling him about your pregnancy, you just left the tests out and decided to let his nose do the work. As if on cue, the front door of your home pops open and shut again. Your eyebrows furrow, knowing Jaemin shouldn’t be home long after you put Miyoung to bed. Though, you only put your daughter to bed half an hour ago. You hear your husband sigh, followed by footsteps approaching you.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, voice laced with exhaustion.

“Hey,” you start, turning around to wrap your arms around him, “I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until eleven.”

“Supervisor cut my shift short.”

His voice sounds exhausted but not as usual after a long day at work. It borders on sounding depressed rather than tired. You search his face for any hints as to why he’s feeling the way he is. Nothing seems to give it away, though.

“Did something happen?” you ask gently.

Jaemin worries on his lower lip, “I lost a patient in surgery today.” he admits, “The little premature puppy baby. I was trying so hard to get him to a state where he could go home with his parents and-”

“Jaemin,” you speak in a sympathetic tone, “You did everything you could. We both know that.”

“There must have been something else I could’ve done for him. He was only a week old.”

You take your husband’s face in your hands, holding his ears out of his face. Your thumb gently wipes away a stray tear he was trying to keep in. He silently cries for a moment, and you don’t say anything. You stand there and wipe away tears as they fall. He’s always cared so deeply for his patients. It tears him apart when he loses one, especially while trying to save them. Once his tears stop, he sighs and starts to talk again.

“I just hate that his parents go home without him in their arms. It’s not-” he lets out a shaky breath, “Knowing what it’s like to lose a child, I hate that I know how much pain they’re experiencing right now.”

“I know.” you sigh, “I know. After we lost-”

You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence. Though you never met your first baby, you know the pain of losing a child. Before you got pregnant with Miyoung, you were supposed to have another one. Jaemin was over the moon excited to have a baby finally. You’d been trying for months on end to get pregnant, so when you finally did, there was no bringing him down from his high. At around the eleven-week mark, though, something felt wrong. You were cramping like you had never known cramps before. Jaemin rushed you to your obstetrician only to discover that your child no longer has a heartbeat. After that, there was the spotting and eventually a rather heavy period that you knew was your body, removing the small life from your body. You had never known a low like that. Jaemin wasn’t doing much better than you were, either. He supported you through it all as best as he could.

You let out a shaky breath and pull away from your husband slightly.

“I’ll let you be alone for a few moments. I’m going to check on Mi and get ready for bed.” you inform him.

“I’ll be there in a few moments, my love.” he responds, voice still a bit shaky. 

You walk down the hall and peer into Miyoung’s room, only to see her peacefully sleeping. She’s fast asleep on her belly, one ear over her shoulder while the other is splayed out alongside one of her arms outstretched above her head. Seeing her so peaceful comforts you in knowing you’ll at least have her. You know it’s not the time to tell Jaemin about your pregnancy, though, not with his current mental state. You sneak into your en suite bathroom and start to pick up the positive pregnancy tests.

“I thought I smelled something different.” You hear your husband’s voice.

“Jaemin I-”

He walks up to you and takes the tests from you, “You’re actually-”

“I am.” You nod, “I just found out this morning.”

A bright smile bursts across his face. Brighter than you’ve seen in a while. It’s the same smile he had when you told him about Miyoung. 

“You have another little life growing in you.” he muses, placing a hand against your belly.

“I do,” you smile, tears starting to form in your eyes, “We’ll have another little one come November.”

For a few weeks, Jaemin tries to convince you to tell Miyoung already. Each time, you tell him it’s not the best idea purely because if you try to explain that to your ten-month-old, you’ll be opening a can of worms. Additionally, your daughter is brilliant and would likely pick up her father’s habit of touching your belly every chance she could reach it. Of course, that would spark multiple questions when she does it in front of someone who doesn’t know about it. The only people who you’ve told about it are Jeno and his girlfriend. They’ll be the ones to have Miyoung when it comes time for you to give birth, and you all know Jeno’s nose will quickly pick up on Jaemin’s scent embedded in you the moment he sees you. 

You’ve just about hit the three-month mark of your pregnancy without a hitch. You get to go find out the gender of the baby later in the week, which Jaemin is over the moon about. He wants another little girl so desperately that you think he may manifest it into existence. Jeno said his bet is on a boy just because Jaemin wants them to be a girl so badly. As always, Haneul is currently zooming through the home while Miyoung tries to keep up with himhaving just learned to walk. You can already tell the two of them will be thick as thieves when they’re older. Aerum is fast asleep in her room. Both Jeno and his girlfriend take it as an advantage for now. Though, the moment the seven-month-old wakes, she’ll start howling. Haneul, being two, assumes that means he can howl too. Jeno has mentioned on many occasions that he’s thankful they don’t live in an apartment anymore for that reason. 

You’re peacefully sitting on the couch, Jaemin’s arm resting along the back of it behind your head. Jeno and his girlfriend sit on the couch catty cornered to you. It seems as though you have their undivided attention, but you know they’re also keeping an ear out for their son who’s a walking safety hazard and their infant daughter who as of recently hasn’t been sleeping well. You have a hand resting on your belly despite there not being a visible bump yet. Something about the contact makes you feel heat burst through your chest knowing you have another little on the way. 

Suddenly, you feel a sharp stab of pain through your back. It feels as though someone stuck a knife in you and dragged it around from your spine to just below your belly button. It makes you scrunch yourself into a ball and immediately Jaemin has one of his strong arms wrapped around you. It’s almost as if the four hybrids can smell the disturbance in the air. Haneul comes running into the room and tries to get your attention with small whimpering sounds. You can hear your daughter’s uneven footsteps against the floor as she approaches accompanied by small honks of frustration that she can’t get there quicker. Jeno quickly and carefully whisks Miyoung and his son into his arms. 

“You go get checked out. We got Miyoung taken care of.” he informs you.

With that he takes the two little ones down the hall, you assume into his game room to distract them with his farming game. Jaemin move to kneel in front of you to try to get a read of your face. You’re very much hidden behind your hair and hands though. Jeno’s girlfriend is already grabbing Jaemin’s car keys to get everything ready by the time your husband manages to get you to the car. 

“Honey,” Jaemin asks quietly, “Can you tell me what’s happening?” “It hurts.” you gasp out, “It hurts to fucking bad.”

You know Jaemin is starting to panic. He know he won’t be able to get you to walk down the stairs and out to the car, though. He picks you up and carries you. You need to see a doctor, one that isn’t him. One that can check on you and the baby. The entire drive to the hospital is a blur. All you can think about is the excruciating pain you feel in your stomach. Jaemin keeps one of his hands firmly holding yours even as you walk into the emergency room. It’s too perfect that the moment you step into the building you see Yuta’s wife walking toward the exit. She can smell something wrong too, she walks over and helps Jaemin support you despite her small stature. With her free hand she pulls out her paging device to get the first obstetrician that she could. 

You don’t know how long you would’ve sat in the waiting room if it wasn’t for her. Luckily she’s here though. 

You find yourself admitted to a room within the hour. Jaemin is doing his best to hide his anxious state but you can read your husband like a book. He’s terrified. You’re not doing so amazing either. They gave you some medication for the pain but still you’re not comfortable physically or emotionally. All you can do is wait for this doctor to be ready for you.

“Jaemin,” you whisper.

Your husband looks over at you. One hand still tightly locked with yours while the other hand is playing with his ear anxiously. His nose is twitching too. The only time his nose ever twitches is when he’s absolutely terrified. Last time it happened was when you were going into active labor with Miyoung.

“I’m going to use the bathroom real quick.” you inform him, “I need my hand back for a little bit.”

“Do you need help getting there or any-” he immediately starts worrying.

“I’ll be okay.” you give him a pained smile.

You should’ve let him help you. The moment you begin to pull your clothing down you see the red spots in your underwear. Your heart drops. Still, you try to contain yourself and just begin redressing. Your initial plan to let your body do what it needs before the doctor come goes out the window instantly. You slip out of the bathroom and lean back against the door facing toward your hospital bed. Jaemin looks at you with a concerned but expecting face. Yours is blank though. Spotting is never a good sign when you’re pregnant, especially after getting copious amounts of pain through your back and stomach.

“Doctor. Now.” you say flatly, looking at the floor in front of you.

“Baby, is everything-”

“Get a fucking doctor in here now, Jaemin. Is that so hard to do?” you snap.

Jaemin flinches and practically runs out to the lobby area to get someone in here who could do something. Now alone in the room you break down sobbing loudly. You couldn’t care less about who hears you right now. You know your baby isn’t alive. You should’ve known the moment you got those cramps that something’s severely wrong. That’s how your husband finds you. Curled up against the wall, sobbing into your hands.

“The obstetrician is coming.” he says softly.

He pulls you to stand up and walks with you over to the bed to sit down properly. Jaemin wraps his arms around you as you cry. You’re wetting his ear with your tears but neither of you care about that right now.

“Sweetheart, I-” he sighs, “I told them to have some mifepristone and misoprostol ready too, j- just in case.”

His voice is pained. You know those medication names all too well. If your pregnancy isn’t viable, it helps your body remove the fetus without surgery. Hearing him say those words only makes you sob harder. You know your baby isn’t with you anymore, and he does too. It’s a pain you don’t wish on anyone.

After several minutes of sobbing in your husband’s arms you slow to a sniffle. The obstetrician walks in a moment later and ushers you both toward where the ultrasound machinery is housed. You’re numb now. You can’t feel a thing emotionally. As a psychiatrist you know you’re disassociating, but maybe for right now that isn’t the worst thing.

Jaemin still holds your hand tightly, eyes brimmed with tears. You go through the motions as you move your shirt and the doctor places the cool gel against your belly. It takes mear moments for her to find the baby and confirm your worst fear. You knew it was coming, still, it’s another stab through your heart. Jaemin bursts into tears beside you, his hand letting go of yours for the first time since he returned from getting a doctor. His ears fall in his face as he looks down at his shoes.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” she says, voice laced with pity, “Would you like to know what they would’ve been had you gone to term?”

You nod silently.

“Dad?” she asks carefully.

“Yeah,” he says through sniffles, “If you could.”

“A little girl. Seems as though she would’ve been human too. There was no early development of rabbit tail or ears.”

Jaemin lets out a pained noise. You feel all your emotions rush back through you and tears stream down your face as the doctor wipes the gel from your belly. As you leave the hospital with the medication in Jaemin’s hands you feel as though you enter some sort of dissociative state again. You don’t remember getting in the car or Jaemin calling your Samoyed hybrid friend asking if they could keep Miyoung for the night. All you know is that you stay in the car and suddenly Jaemin comes back with a bag full of things Miyoung will need. 

When you arrive back at the Lee household your one-year-old is anxious to see you. Jeno’s girlfriend tries to contain the two toddlers but Miyoung is practically climbing your leg when you enter her field of vision. Her long tan ears bouncing with each motion she makes. Neither of the other two adults need to ask what ended up happening. It’s evident that you and your husband have been crying. Jaemin had explained to you after your first miscarriage that he could smell when your pregnancy was no longer progressing. So when you see Jeno’s ears droop slightly, you know he knows what happened. 

“Baby?” Miyoung asks when you pick her up.

“No, sweetie, no more baby.”

The sentence pains you to say but you don’t want to lie to her either. She doesn’t need to know what happened, she’s fine just knowing that mommy doesn’t have the baby anymore.

“You’re going to have a sleepover with Haneul and Aerum, okay? You get to have lots of fun while Mommy and Daddy do boring adult things.” you explain to her.

That’s all she had to hear. She squirms in your arms to get down. Jaemin leans over and kisses her cheek before you do the same and put her down. She and Haneul zoom off again, likely to cause trouble somewhere. Jaemin passes the overnight bag to Jeno, who quietly takes it.

“I’m sorry, guys. I don’t know what it’s like but-” Jeno starts.

“You’re right. You don’t.” you say curtly, “Jaemin can we leave now?”

You don’t even let your husband respond. You walk out of the home and back to the car. Jaemin lingers a moment and gives your friends an apologetic look before bidding them goodbye.

The drive home is silent. You keep your hands folded in your lap the entire time as you look out the window. You’re avoiding looking at Jaemin for now. If you look at him it’ll be the last pebble that will break the dam. The moment you pull up to your house you get out of the car and walk toward the front door, still not looking at your beloved bunny hybrid husband. Just as you reach the door though you feel Jaemin’s arms wind around you from behind.

“I know it’s hard, but don’t ignore me. Share the burden with me. It’s the least I can do as your husband and father of our children.” he says against your hair.

Again you start crying, “Child. We have one child.”

“We have three.” he states firmly, “Only one is with us physically but we have three children.”

“Why does it have to be so hard for us to-” you interrupt yourself with more tears.

You turn around in his hold and cry against his shoulder in the cool late spring night air. If anyone driving by sees you they pay you no mind and likely assume you’re a young couple sharing a romantic moment. They couldn’t be more wrong.

“And with how my pregnancy records seem to track it’ll only get harder as we get older. Jaem, we’re only 26 but I’m worried that it’ll become nearly impossible by the time were 30.”

“I know. I know.” he soothes, rubbing your back gently,  “If it ends up being that we only have Miyoung with us then we’ll love her as much as we can.” he offers, “Maybe so much that she’ll want to go away for university because she’s tired of us.” he jokes slightly. “Now, you clearly need some food in your stomach and a drink of water. Let’s get inside and into more comfy close. Cuddles all night, doctor’s orders.”

Jaemin keeps his word, the moment you’re fed, hydrated, and in more comfortable clothing you’re snuggled up in your shared bed. Your head is pillowed against Jaemin’s chest and you play with his fingers absentmindedly. Your mind seems to run a mile a minute while also being completely blank.

“I love you.” you whisper so quietly it’s practically a breath.

“I love you too. Thank you for being my wife and the mother to our babies. I’m so proud of you and you’re so damn strong. Never forget that, okay?” 

You nod, “Okay, I won’t.”

“I mean it,” he continues, “I don’t know how I lucked out this much but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“Even if-”

“Nothing. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” he stops you before you could finish your thought, “I love you so much. We’ve had far too long of a day and I fully plan on cuddling you the entire night.”

“I love you too. Good night, bunnyboy.”

“Good night, my love.”

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