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saintobio · 8 months

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sincerely yours. (8)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. profanity, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode nine

9:21 AM.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of your index finger drumming a slow and steady cadence against the table was nearly in perfect synchronization to the tick tock of the clock above the wall behind you. An icy, uninviting atmosphere was the best way to describe the current situation inside the conference room at this time of the morning, with the gelid detachment between the boss and her employees as you built a wall—an impenetrable wall—around yourself to keep the inner turmoil you had in your head.

So, you listened. You succumbed to silence as a result.

“I’d like to present this new idea that we, along with the ecommerce team, have come up with to increase engagement on our website.” Even as the marketing manager started to speak, you remained frigid. “We did go through some feedback that people have been posting online and they’re mostly saying that the current web theme is too plain and that they’re hoping to see a more engaging website, so we would love to propose some ideas that could improve Hearte’s overall online presence. We know that keeping the brand’s look consistent is very important, especially now that Hearte is still establishing its own name in the fashion industry, and we have currently done a phenomenal job with our brand style. However, as the online website is our visual storefront, not only is its functionality critical, but we also have to ensure that the web design is in line with our aesthetics.”

9:26 AM.

You leaned back on your chair with your arms crossed, looking up to speak to the manager from across the conference room. “Let’s keep the unnecessary introduction short and just go straight to the point,” you strictly announced, receiving curious eyes in return as it was their first time seeing you becoming all stern and unamused. Such an odd sight to see from a boss who used to have the brightest of sunshines reflecting on her smile. “What’s the proposal?”

The marketing manager cleared her throat and moved her presentation onto the next slide. “Yes, Ms. Y/N. So… uh, based on the data that you can see on the screen, our online sales increased by 15% for the past two weeks, but we still have about 10% of shoppers abandoning their shopping carts. Earlier this week, we set up email campaigns and social reminders to decrease our abandonment rate and urge shoppers to return to their carts. While working with the IT team, we did some A/B testing to determine which version would drive our business metrics. We’ve also reached out to The Society Management and added Kendall Jenner to our PR list so that possibly, in the future, we can get her as a model for our landing page and attract the western market,” she continuously explained in a manner to convince you of how much effort their department was doing to increase Hearte’s sales, “But what we believe could bring a tremendous improvement on our website engagement is by introducing style guides. This will capture the interest of the audience now that they can mix and match some outfits based on their own style, and—”

9:32 AM.

Sigh.

“Ms. Ono, I have to be honest, but I expected more from you,” you cut her off by leaving a frank comment on her presentation, “Fashion brands have been doing style guides for years. You make it sound like it’s unique, but it’s nothing new. How sure are we that it will actually bring a dramatic improvement on our website engagement? I doubt most of them would even browse through it.”

“Well, uh…” The marketing manager faltered, glancing at the head of the social media team for some help, which she didn’t end up receiving. “I think it’ll work the way we want it to as long as we introduce engaging copies that make buyers fall in love with the designs.”

“You think?” You criticized her word of choice. “Ms. Ono, I gave you enough time to brainstorm with your team, so the moment you step inside of this conference room, you should have prepared whatever strategy you had in mind. I don’t settle for ambitious words like ‘I think’ or ‘I believe’. I want to hear a proposal that’s original, unique, and captivating. I want you to be a hundred percent sure that you know what you’re doing before you waste everyone’s time like this. Do you understand? Am I being clear? I want a proposal that would definitely get us somewhere and not just by assuming we will.”

Were you being too harsh? They said that the fashion industry in itself was harsh, so what was so surprising about seeing you being strict, candid, and business-like? This was the nature of your job. This was normal.

9:47 AM.

Very timidly did Nobara raise her hand beside you to chime in on the discussion. “I know I’m not in the position to make suggestions, but…” She pressed something on her laptop before carefully sliding it to your side of the table, showing you what appears to be a classic early 2000s ‘dress-up game’ with a base model and a selection of outfits that were inspired by your designs. “I just wanted to show you this, Ms. Y/N. I do agree with Ms. Ono’s idea to introduce style guides, but maybe we can do it in an interactive way. I know the dress-up game idea may look childish and unsophisticated, but I was kinda hoping that we can just make certain adjustments so that it could match Hearte’s classy and simplistic style. We can have base models in different body types and skin tones to show our brand’s diversity, then we can have shoppers try dressing them up using the outfits on our current collection. That allows them to easily visualize how the pieces would look on a certain skin tone and body type.”

The way everyone else in that conference table looked at Nobara was very obvious that they were expecting you to reprimand her for even having the guts to offer such a farcical idea. What does she know? They were probably thinking that. You’re just an intern. You knew they were saying that in their minds. On the other hand, you surprisingly liked her proposal and enjoyed the unique idea of introducing it to the website because her proposal actually did make sense. People would be curious, people would try it out by interacting with the website, and that means the engagement would rise up.

“I like that idea. We can go with that,” you said, sliding the laptop back to her while nodding at the marketing and social media managers, “I need the team to discuss Nobara’s idea further and polish it thoroughly before we can start adding it onto the website. Make adjustments as needed and ensure that everything is still in line with our brand. If you notice any flaws with this proposal, you can flag them with me and I’ll review them.”

9:54 AM.

Just as you were about to wrap up the meeting, a certain someone entered the conference room in haste—panting out of breath with her long, wavy hair and creased red pants. “I’m so sorry, I’m late.”

Her casualness made you clench your jaws tightly, fueling the fire to your already terrible day. You could no longer stop yourself from unleashing your rage as you looked up at her with a critical squint. “Ms. Hirai, what time’s it?”

“It’s ten, I know. I’m so sorry,” she repeated her apologies and paid an apologetic bow to everyone in the meeting room, “I’m sorry, everyone. I was caught up in heavy traffic today.”

You let out a silent scoff and ignored her compunctious act. “How long are we gonna keep using that excuse, really?” you questioned her, earning the intrigued eyes of your employees who were all sensing the sudden tension between you and your best friend, “As the fashion merchandiser and my second-in-command, you should’ve been here in this meeting with me, but where were you? You anticipated that there would be heavy traffic, yet you couldn’t be responsible enough in coming to work early knowing that we have a meeting? Or was it because you’re too busy doing other things so you’re no longer interested in showing up to work on time?”

Akemi shook her head, contritely. “It’s… It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?” Your icy stare bored into her. No trace of compassion was present in your eyes. “I’m sure you’re living a very blissful life outside of work and I’m glad you are, but is that also why you don’t bother with anything else anymore?”

“Y/N—”

“Miss Y/N,” you corrected, “I’m your boss, so treat me like one.”

Wide, chocolate brown eyes greeted you in response. It was clear that she was at a loss of words and could only repeat her meaningless apologies a thousand times. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Y/N. It won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t even let me know that you’ll be coming in late,” you continued and ignored the pitiful expression on her face, focusing on her swollen red lips and her dewy, rosy cheeks. She must have had a really good morning to look like a cherry blossom on a spring day. Was she so preoccupied being all lovey dovey with your ex-husband this morning? Did she sleep comfortably on the same marital bed you used to share with him? Your jaw tensed visibly. “You’re just coming in whenever you want. You don’t respect people’s time. You don’t respect my rules. You don’t respect me.”

Yes, you were overreacting by taking things too personally and it was the reason why you got up from your seat and bolted out of the conference room upon realizing your unusual outburst. You could hear the clicking sound of your stiletto echoing across the corridor as you stomped towards your office, swinging the glass door open and heading straight towards the ceiling-to-floor window to have some peace of mind. Peace? How ridiculous. How could you find peace? You couldn’t even grasp the fact that your best friend was acting like everything was normal. You couldn’t understand why she was rubbing her relationship to your face as if she wasn’t just a placeholder to somebody’s ex wife.

“Y/N?” Akemi’s voice cut you out of your toxic trail of thoughts—your mouth thinning with displeasure while you didn’t bother turning around to meet her gaze. Breathe. You had to breathe and think rationally. “I…I understand you’re really angry right now, but I was hoping we can have this much needed talk.”

You could feel her reaching for your hand at the height of your frustration and your defensive instinct led you to angrily swing your arm away, accidentally hitting her cheek as you pivoted on your heel to face her. It took two seconds for your eyes to shift from glaring in frustration to widening in surprise after seeing the small cut your diamond ring left on her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, no, it’s fine,” she insisted with her palm pressed onto the right side of her face. “I deserved it.”

Good lord. What was happening to you? Despite having all these unspoken rage and unresolved conflicts between the two of you, you would still drop everything and be concerned for her. You would still let your walls collapse. You were the villain that couldn’t stick to being a villain. Why? Why did you feel this way? Was it because you knew she wasn’t technically doing anything wrong? Or was it because you were just projecting your personal frustrations onto her? Was betrayal really the issue here? Or was it the huge possibility that she could in fact be Gojou’s one true love? You had thought of this before, but the same questions in your head never stopped. And never did they stop from invading your headspace as you made your way towards the small fridge to grab an ice pack that you soon offered to Akemi, leading her to one of the couches while finally coming into your senses.

Yet there was silence and nothing but awkward silence when you two sat at a safe distance from each other.

“I’m shameless.” She was the first one to break the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I know you’re thinking that and I do agree with you. I really am shameless to even look you in the eye right now.”

You sighed and looked away, only to keep yourself from the furnace of pain that you had been bottling inside. “Stop. You’re making me seem like a villain right now. I’m tired of seeing myself this way.”

She closed her legs and sat humbly, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. “You’re not. You’re not a villain and you never were,” said the same woman you accidentally smacked a few minutes ago, “I understand why you would feel a certain way towards me. I’d even understand if you hate me so much that you wanna murder me. I’m your best friend and I know about your history with Satoru, yet here I am seeing your ex-husband behind your back. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t plan it. I truly didn’t. Even though you’re not together anymore and I’m technically not homewrecking anyone, I’m still putting us—you and I—in a really awkward position. You didn’t deserve any of that and I’m very sorry.”

At least, she was self-aware. But looking at the brighter side of things, you were getting calmer now that you were hearing her side of the story, though that didn’t stop you from feeling any less horrible. “I don’t really care who you date,” you claimed, adamantly, “And I most definitely do not care who Satoru chooses to date. We’ve been divorced for three years.”

“It’s still not right that I’m seeing him.” She let her guilt speak up for her.

And you let your resentment speak for you. “Then, why him of all people?”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?”

“Y-Yeah…”

You decided to keep a straight face. “How did this happen?”

Akemi looked as if you had just forced her to be on the hot seat because of the apathy on your visage. “It was a drunken mistake at first and we kinda just…”

“I’m not asking about when you two started fucking,” you replied, bluntly. Something you had never done before in your usual sophisticated vocabulary. “I’m asking when you realized you have feelings for him. When did you fall in love with him?”

She had trouble finding the right answer. “It just happened. I d-don’t really know. Whenever you asked me to look after him, I guess the bond he and I developed from that made me see him in a different light.”

You disregarded the pain in your chest and let the volcano explode on its own, because her answer only meant that she was already growing feelings for your ex-husband at the same time you were confiding to her about him. That was the worst part of it all.

“Why do you like him?” you questioned further, “Despite knowing what happened while I was married to him, why did you still end up falling in love with him? If that’s so hard to answer, then don’t think about us or me or our friendship. Just think about the decisions you made for yourself. Why are you with Satoru?”

Her gaze found the floor. Hesitance. Guilt. Shame. Those emotions were all dancing in her eyes in a complete roundabout. While she took a moment to fully reassess her decision, you weren’t sure if you deserved to still feel hurt when she gave you an honest answer. “When I met Satoru, I didn’t meet the toxic, cheating ex-husband that he was known for,” she said, slowly, “I met a man who holds such a high respect for his ex-wife, adores his son like his greatest gift of all, and values his marriage more than anything else in this world. I met a vulnerable man who isn’t afraid to open his heart to strangers. A man who gave me emotional support even when he’s the one who needed it the most. I… It’s hard to explain, but…”

Was there really anything left to say? Her point was clear, and your silence while she was speaking was more so because you were trying not to let the tiny pricks in your heart affect you further than it already did. The fullness of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she talked about him were enough to tell you that your best friend had truly fallen in love and you would be cruel to take that away from her. Even from him. They would not have been involved in such an intimate relationship if there had been no attraction between them to begin with, so then… Why did it feel like you were being cheated on? She was no Sera, and he was not the Satoru that only used you for his corporate ambitions. It was just Akemi and Satoru—they were each other’s right person at the right time. The only thing blocking their path to a loving relationship was you.

You. The irrational and spiteful ex-wife. The ex-wife who always played the ‘victim card’. The selfish ex-wife who wanted all the good things to only come her way.

Well, god be damned, because you were beginning to confuse yourself with the version of you that wasn’t even remotely like you at all. She was just a mirrored image of yourself that you thought people perceived.

“You can do what you want.” The moment you spoke again, you were already creating a huge wall between you and your best friend, making sure that there were boundaries that none of you should ever cross now that she had chosen to be with someone you had sincerely loved in the past. It may sound like you were letting go, but truth be told, you just didn’t think that you even had the option to hold onto anything. Satoru wasn’t yours and you weren’t his anymore. You were two individuals living separate lives. “If you wanna be with him, that’s your choice. I don’t plan on intervening. It just… just really surprised me that you didn’t have the decency to tell me at all.”

Akemi nodded, apologetically desperate. “I understand how you’re feeling and I’m sorry. I really, truly am sorry, Y/N.” Her voice and her countenance did show the genuineness in her plea to be forgiven, but you were too numb to feel anything else. “I hope we can stay friends despite everything.”

How could you even stay friends in a situation like this?

First option was to keep pretending that their relationship wasn’t bothering you. Second option was to focus on your own relationship with Toji to the point where everything else just didn’t matter anymore.

Yeah, you thought. You could certainly choose the latter.

“Our friendship isn’t my top priority at the moment,” was your straightforward response to her, “I wanna focus on my son and his relationship with his father. That’s all.”

Any regular person would have thought: ‘Wow, Y/N. You handled that well.’ ‘You’re so mature.’ ‘You’re a lot calmer than we expected.’ The thing was, you really did think that you had been way too calm about it. In spite of the scene you caused at the conference room, or the dramatic exchange you had with Akemi in your office, you still handled it much better than one would think. In TV shows or movies, the ex-wife would have dragged the best friend to the ground, slapped her face, pulled her hair, started a nasty catfight, and called her all the terrible labels you could think of. Look, part of you wanted to do that. And the other part of you—the sympathetic, altruistic part of you—thought you shouldn’t do that. You would only look pathetic.

Of all the negative things Satoru had made you feel over the course of your failure of a marriage, this aftermath was probably the toughest.

You just weren't in the right state of mind to justify why.

You also couldn’t justify why you had been looking for unhealthy ways to cope with stress and anxiety. If anyone from your family saw you standing at the smoking area near the parking lot right now, they would have given you an earful of how you must be out of your mind for even putting a cigarette stick between your lips. How exactly could tobacco be good for you? You would say, first of all, that nicotine does in fact cause pleasant feelings to distract you from unpleasant ones. You couldn’t find any other way to relax your mind any faster than one cigarette stick could. Besides, staying in the office and seeing Akemi around was getting too suffocating and you couldn’t afford to have your negative mood lingering in your mind for the rest of the day. One stick wouldn’t hurt. Another one wouldn’t, too. And another one should be fine, right?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The irony. You didn’t even have the time to recoil before the main cause of your stress showed up in front of you, frowning after he snatched the cigarette stick out of your lips. He was quick to throw it to the ground, stomp on it like he would do with your heart, and give you a questioning look that made you scoff at the ridiculousness of this situation. This could be a dream for heaven’s sake. Or a hallucination. There was no way Satoru Gojou would be standing right in front of you just as you were thinking about him.

“Since when have you been doing this?” he questioned again, holding your wrist this time to make you realize that his presence or this interaction wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It would have been better that way, but the reality was, Satoru was there and he wasn’t the least bit pleased. “I know you’re mad at me and this isn’t the right time for me to chew you out like this, but…” he paused, taking your cigarette pack. “I can’t believe you’re fucking smoking right now, Y/N. Did you get this habit from Toji?”

Okay. Gojou could be way out-of-line sometimes, but this was the apex of it.

“Don’t bring Toji into this,” you snapped back, shooting him a glare that could easily kill. “What are you doing here?”

You could see how deep his inhale was just by the loudness of his sigh after it. His face showed a combination of yearning, regret, frustration, and pity as if he was deciding which emotion should dominate him more. But among the multitude of emotions that were drowning him right now like a tidal wave, he looked all the more exhausted. Whether it was dealing with you, trying to make amends with you, or simply being around you—you could tell that he wanted to drop his constant need to care for you because it was beginning to tire him out.

He didn’t really answer your question, and instead, asked one of his own. “Are you smoking because of stress?” he asked, trying to mask the sympathy in his eyes. “It’s bad for you. Set a good example for Sachiro.”

You’re bad for me, you wanted to say. Why did it even matter to him, anyway? You were nothing more than just a mother to his child. Anything outside that role was completely not his business anymore. The fact that he was even within the vicinity of your office was ridiculous, because you were already having a bad day and his presence was adding further into it. “Don’t you dare talk about setting a good example to my son like you’re so righteous yourself.”

“Y/N, come on.” He reached for your hand once more as if trying to show how much he cared or how worried he was with what you were doing to yourself because of him. “I don’t want you to—”

“Keep your fucking distance, Gojou. You’re not in the place to give a damn about me anymore,” you raged, withdrawing your wrist and breathing heavily as you tried to keep yourself from further exploding. You would have. You were so close to cursing him off, but you saw the flash of pure shock in his eyes, and that was how you realized what you just did. All these violent reactions, these unusual outbursts—these were not you. This was not the meek, soft-spoken ex-wife that he was once married to.

“Toru?”

Unfortunately, Gojou no longer had enough attention span to listen when he looked away, only to turn to his new woman with a genuinely worried expression painted on his face as soon as he saw her coming out of the building with a hand on her cheek. You realized that he was actually here to pick her up and was doing everything that a caring boyfriend would; checking every inch of her face to see how bad she was hurt and asking her what happened and whether she was okay. You didn’t know how to react the moment he turned back to you with his tired, yet passively accusatory eyes. “Did something happen?”

You knew that his question actually translated to: ‘Did you slap her?’ With your thorough knowledge about his acquired trauma from physical violence, you felt the sudden need to clear your name, but you didn’t know if you should be grateful that it was already your best friend who did the part in doing such. “Nothing happened. It was an accident.” Her tone was almost begging before she started tugging his arm. “Let’s just go, please.”

Satoru didn’t want to let it go, but decided that it was best to just leave it be as he glanced at you with a slightly detached gaze. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” he reminded, referring to the dreaded New York trip together with Sachiro.

A conflicted look from him and an apologetic gaze from her. That was all that you received before they got inside the car and left you alone and miserable in that parking lot. You watched his car fade into view with her on the passenger seat and him probably holding her hand as he drove through the street. Just when you thought you could actually stomach the sight of him and her together, it would be a big fat lie to say that it didn’t sting. It stung worse than the times he ran after Sera than to stay behind with you. Worse than when he used to treat you like a mistress rather than a wife.

You must be going crazy, indeed. Who in their right mind would cry over her ex-husband in the middle of the parking lot? Why would you even shed tears when you were the one who wanted him to find someone else and move on? This was becoming a never-ending loop because you were letting yourself be affected by it. It shouldn’t be that way. Never.

“Toji.” You were doing your hardest to conceal the weakness in your voice as you pressed your phone into your right ear. “I-I need you… right now. Please.”

“Hey, I was just about to pick-up Sachi from daycare. Is everything okay?”

Wiping your eyes, you looked at the dull skies wondering if the universe was trying to reflect all these emotions running inside of you. “Yeah… Can you come soon?”

He didn’t really hesitate to answer, quickly understanding that he had to drop everything else right now and be with you. “Alright, I’ll be there.”

Satoru was conflicted, but he didn’t know what exactly made him feel that way. Was it because he saw you smoking in the parking lot? Or was it because he could tell that you gave Akemi a tongue-lashing after catching her half-naked at the penthouse a few days ago? Either way, both options were not very you. And he couldn’t understand why you were slowly starting to look less and less like the person he knew, which was confusing on his part because you had been adamant on telling him to forget about you. You were rigid on your decision to not let him enter your life as your husband for the second time around. He told you he still loved you, but you said you loved another. He told you he wanted to work things out and make your family complete again, but you said you were already doing that with someone else. Gojou knew his hands weren’t clean and the reason you may be acting that way was because out of all the women he could have been with, it had to be Akemi Hirai. Your best friend. Your confidante. Your business partner. She was a territory he shouldn’t have crossed, yet he did.

But, at the same time, she was the only person who had been there for him during his lowest. She was the company he needed when his heart was the loneliest. He couldn’t even remember the amount of times she came to his aid when he was crying over his memories of you, memories that he could no longer hold onto. Akemi brought peace to his heart, and if there was anyone else he could be with, it would be her.

It was becoming more and more clear to him how he felt about her.

Although, voicing that out loud was a different story. Keeping it in his thoughts was for the best because he didn’t want to lead Akemi on. She didn’t deserve that nor did she deserve to feel like a substitute for someone else. He wanted to be a hundred percent sure about being with her before he could fully confess his real feelings for her. It could still develop through time, perhaps far better and more passionate than what he was sharing with her right now, but until then, settling for what they had at this moment in time was for the better. What was important was that both parties were clear about diving into this relationship.

He wasn’t ready for commitment and she understood that. She was willing to wait for him. She was helping him move on in the least painful way. Where else could he meet such a person like her?

She was gentle, motherly, sensitive, and intuitive. She was classy and sophisticated. She knew how to dress nicely. Her nails were always clean and pretty. Her smile was very charming. Her laugh, endearing. She was the perfect woman anyone could have.

“Why’d you suddenly want to go to the mall?” she asked, intertwining their hands together as she looked up at him with her beautiful doe eyes. Her question made him cut out of his trance, remembering that they were strolling around the galleria.

He touched the small wound on her cheek as if stroking it could make it heal faster. “Nothing,” he said. “Just a last minute idea.”

Truthfully, Gojou wasn’t sure why he had brought her there. All he knew was that he had a lot going on in his mind while he was driving through the city and the next thing he knew, he was already pulling up at the galleria out of his natural instinct. But since they were already there, he might as well buy her a little something. Anything. And then his eyes caught sight of Chanel as if the high-end boutique was pulling his feet with such gravity that it led him to go inside the store while hand-in-hand with the woman next to him.

“Mr. Gojou, how are you?”

Right. The staff knew him so well, especially for the amount of times he had been there with his ex-wife when you two were still married.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” One of the familiar ladies that used to assist you approached him with a lingering stare towards Akemi. “Perhaps for your…?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, can you… uh,” he turned towards the rack of tweed sets, “Do you have any new collections?”

“Yes, absolutely,” said another lady, “Right this way, sir.”

It was easy to notice how the staff were exchanging glances at the sight of Satoru and Akemi together, but his mind was far too distracted by the nostalgia of being in that place alone to even care about his surroundings. All he did was look back at Akemi and encourage her to try out the newest collections that they had, thinking that she was oblivious about what was going through his head. “You go and pick whatever you like.”

Although she was clearly not used to it, Akemi did eventually try on some of the outfits he specifically had chosen for her. They were Chanel’s signature tweed sets that he always found to be very elegant, and he definitely wasn’t wrong that they would suit her when she came out of the dressing room to show him how the clothes wrapped her small frame perfectly.

He could see your smile through her face, your excitement when you tried the outfits on, and the shine in your eyes when you looked at yourself in the mirror. Except, Gojou had to remind himself that you weren’t her. That his mind was just messing with him.

No, this was wrong. Why was he thinking about you while he was with her?

He had to have some sort of distraction. Something so tangible that all of his senses would go numb.

The one way he was able to overcome that dilemma was by sharing yet another steamy exchange with Akemi later that night. He couldn’t remember who initiated first, but it must have been the equal desire that they had for each other when they dove straight into a heated makeout session the moment they stepped inside his bedroom. One thing led to another. First he was kissing her lips, then her collarbones, then her inner thighs—devouring her completely with his lust-driven actions, doing the most by pleasuring her body using his own.

She was a giver just as she was a receiver. Not that he didn’t expect her to be so experienced when it came to sex, but she definitely knew what she was doing without any guidance from him. Perhaps he just wasn’t used to it anymore. Perhaps he had just forgotten how it felt to have sex with someone who didn’t rely on him to initiate the next steps they should do. Fuck, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone stared at his eyes while putting his hardened member inside her mouth the way she did. She knew her power over him while at his most vulnerable state, ruining his masculine ego and destroying it with her own feminine pride.

And in the midst of their intimate session, Gojou was zoning out while he was sliding a condom across his shaft, ready to enter her from the back. His mind was giving him a flash of memory, not a distant but recent one from two days ago.

“I still can’t believe you did that, Mom. You’re being ridiculous.”

His mother wasn’t exactly showing the slightest hint of regret on her face despite knowing full well that sending the custody claim almost made you lose your mind. She was keeping a straight face as she sat on the barstool next to him, taking a sip of wine from her glass while he, on his own, was downing a glass of scotch. “She had it coming.”

Satoru sighed his frustration away. “Don’t do that again or today’s the last time you’ll ever see me.”

“What are you talking about?” His mother frowned. “Who was there for you when you were trying to end your own life because of the lies she told you, huh? You’re feeling bad for her now, but did she feel bad for you back then? You missed three years of your son’s life because she was being too spiteful towards you.”

He had never met someone more stubborn than his own mother, but maybe this was a clear sign for Satoru to realize where he must have acquired that one similar trait of his. After all, people always made it seem that he was more like his dad even though he despised being compared to his father. To say that his mother was a complete angel was a lie. But neither was he. “Whatever, just don’t… Just leave Y/N alone. She’s still the mother of my child and I don’t want us to keep fighting. At least, for Sachi’s sake.”

His mother finished her glass of wine before turning the stool towards his direction. There was a minute of silence that passed between them before she spoke again. “I just don’t want you to get back with her, darling. You two are toxic together.”

Funny, because he could say the same thing for her and his father. “Well, it’s not gonna happen now. Y/N’s gonna hate me forever.”

“What, ‘cause she rejected you again?”

“No,” he countered, shaking his head and chugging all the remaining liquor on his glass. “She knows about the thing I have with Akemi now.”

Her mouth fell open, gasping as she did so. “Y-You… and Akemi? Are you together?”

Satoru expected this reaction from her, but didn’t think she would actually be more fixated on his new relationship than the effect it would bring on her ex-daughter-in-law. “It’s not something to be proud of, Mom.”

“Well, I’m proud of you,” she still stressed that fact, “It’s nice to hear that you’re finally moving on, Satoru. Y/N is not good for you, but I know Akemi will be. I like her and I know she’ll make you a lot happier than Y/N ever did.”

“You’re still awake?” Gojou let out a yawn as he felt the heaviness of his eyelids telling him that it was time to sleep. He tried checking the time on his phone, but realized that he still had the photo of you and Sachiro as his lockscreen. He wasn’t planning on changing it anytime soon, but considering that Akemi saw it, he was expecting that she would have something to say, yet nothing came out of her mouth. She simply stayed silent while laying on his chest, letting him touch the slope of her naked back as she slightly raised her head to meet his eyes. He had already closed his phone and placed it back on the nightstand. “What, did I not tire you enough?”

“Shut up.” She hid her reddened cheeks and smiled on the crook of his neck. Her hand was placed on his chest, fingers tracing his collarbones. “No, I’m just thinking about how you’re gonna manage New York and all.”

Satoru’s breathing was still for a few seconds, keeping his eyes glued on the ceiling as he held her on your marital bed. “You’re scared that the infamous cheater is gonna cheat on you or something?” he joked, a distasteful one, but still meant to ease whatever was burdening her mind. “Not gonna happen even if we’re in an open relationship.”

“That’s not it,” Akemi quickly replied, denying his claims, “I’m more like hoping that you’ll be patient with her. She gets angry a lot these days and we know we’re the main cause of it, so please. Please don’t try to argue with her, okay? If she says hurtful things, learn to understand her.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around her smaller frame. Gojou was certain that he was about to doze off soon now that he had closed his eyes and let the exhaustion pull him into a good night’s sleep. “I won’t,” he spoke his words slowly, drifting off to dreamland, “I won’t make her angry.”

“Okay.” He felt her lips kissing his jaw just before the both of them gradually matched the calmness of each other’s chest. One heart, one soul, two bodies. “Good night, ‘Toru.”

…

In the middle of his sleep, he mumbled, “Good night, Y/N.”

On the other side of the city, you woke up in the middle of your slumber, facing the handsome face of your fiancé, Toji Zen’in, who had already drifted off to dreamland while holding you in his muscular arms. No wonder people were jealous of you for having such a refined man like him in your bed every night you go to sleep. The thing was, you had no reason to feel discontented with your life since you already had everything. You were wealthier than the average person, you ran a business that you were passionate about, you had an adorable son who meant the world to you, and you had Toji. There was nothing else you could ask for. And if by remembering Sera’s words back then, you would be selfish to ask for anything more because others didn’t even have half the fortune you had.

So, in that sense, you should be happy.

You had to be happy.

You were happy, right?

“Go to sleep,” whispered a half-awake Toji, stirring from his sleep as he held your waist tighter like you were his comfort pillow. “You alright?”

Sighing inwardly, you traced the scar on his lips. “You’re so gorgeous.”

His lazy, boyish smile came into view. “I know that,” he joked, closing his eyes as if succumbing into a few more minutes of sleep. “Don’t tell me you’re turned on right now ‘cause I can go all night. Doggy. Missionary. Cowboy. Reverse cowboy.”

Were you? Maybe a little. And maybe you had to have a distraction from your ‘source of happiness’.

“That’s very naughty of you, Mr. Zen’in,” you replied, cheeks heating up from his vulgar words. Your hand was finding its way to his toned chest, while his were traveling to the curves of your waist and hips. You could feel him angling his body to make sure he had access to slide your underwear just a little above your knee, gliding his hand along your thigh before letting his fingers touch your sensitive bud. “T-Toji—”

A smirk appeared on his lips. “Hm? I thought you wanted this?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Y-Yeah, I…” There was no use holding back from moaning because his fingers knew how to move perfectly well, playing with your clit in circular motions before sliding two of them into your entrance. “...Fuck.”

“Feel good?” His hot breath tickled your neck, moving his mouth from your collarbones down to the valley between your breasts. “Wish you knew how delicious you are.”

Another moan, much louder this time around, escaped your lips when he attached his mouth onto your breast, sucking the round mass with his tongue doing God’s work. You were so high into sexual desire that your back arched on its own, dominated by the pleasing sensation all over your body. You could barely even respond to him when he started asking why your mood had been so down when he picked you up after work or why you still wouldn’t tell him whatever happened back there.

“It’s nothing,” you replied, disregarding the painful encounter you’ve had with your ex-husband and your best friend. “...Just work stuff.”

As you closed your eyes, you could feel Satoru’s fingers entering deep inside of you, deep enough to have reached your g-spot and have you moaning wildly. It felt unreal. It felt goddamn out of this world. But since Satoru was familiar with every inch of your body, his touch alone could easily send you to seventh heaven. He was heavenly. He was saintly. That mesmerizing gaze of his paired with his sky blue eyes and messy white hair. His beautiful, beautiful face, watching you beg for him to do more. More. More…

“Satoru…”

The intense feeling suddenly stopped, awakening you back to your senses as you opened your eyes and saw the dark, animalistic gaze of Toji Zen’in. “What’d you say?” he asked in a deep voice.

Out of panic, you slightly pulled away and shook your head. “N-Nothing. What did I say?”

“I thought I heard you say his…” he trailed off, pulling his fingers out of you and instead, placing a tight grip on your hip. “Did you?”

“No, no. Not at all.” Your voice came in a hushed tone, looking at his eyes intently. “Why would I do that?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, falling back into the bed with one arm under his head. “Don’t play games with me, Y/N.”

Desperation led you to climb on top of him, sitting on his crotch before encasing your lips with his soft ones. “I’m not,” you mumbled, kissing him again. “I never did. I promise.”

Yet, despite your attempts at inviting him for an open-mouthed kiss, he had already lost the interest to engage in sexual activities with you. He didn’t say anything nor tried to argue about the shit that you said, but he did stay silent for a couple of minutes, simply holding you on top of him without another word to utter. It scared you to think what was going through Toji’s mind, but this was also all your fault. Why, in the first place, did you even let your mind imagine that white-haired toxic ex-husband of yours when you had Toji Zen’in in front you?

Perhaps in this relationship, you were the toxic one.

You were the poison that could kill the life out of the man who only wanted to love and heal you.

“Toji, I’m sorry…”

He held his breath. “Should I be concerned that you’re going on a trip with him?”

“No, it’s…” Pulling away, you gave him a look of combined sincerity and denial. “We’re just gonna fix Sachiro’s papers, you know that. We won’t even be staying in the same room.”

Fixing Sachiro’s papers. Dealing with his dual citizenship. Changing his last name to Gojou. Solidifying your son’s identity as the son of Satoru Gojou. That’s all there is to it. All the technical matters.

“Is he staying at a hotel or are you letting him stay at your apartment in Manhattan?” he asked, although there was no hint of suspicion in his voice. Or at least, he must be good at hiding it.

You chose to be honest. “I have to let him stay at my apartment,” was your answer, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Only because Sachi wants his dad around all the time. We’re just trying our best to co-parent.”

Toji’s dry humor took over. “You sure you’re not gonna let him fuck you senseless?” His tone was laced with resentment. “And then you’ll come home to me crying about how he got you pregnant for the second time. You’d better kiss our marriage goodbye if that happens.”

“What kind of person do you think I am?” you retorted, annoyed by his word of choice as if you were a cheating scumbag. “If he’s gonna get someone pregnant, that won’t be me.”

His eyes sparked with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

Deciding between telling and not telling, you figured that the latter would only cause more drama to bounce back at you like a boomerang. “He’s with Akemi.”

It looked like Toji didn’t hear it right. “Akemi? How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know what kinda relationship they have, okay?” you snapped, no longer wanting to keep up with this topic further. “I just caught them. They said they’re seeing each other, but it’s complicated or whatever—I don’t really give a damn. But he’s with her is all I know.”

Toji went silent for a few minutes, unable to determine whether he should find the situation pitiful or humorous. One thing for sure though, was that he found it unbelievable. “That son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, smiling in disbelief, “So this is what’s ruining your mood these days, huh?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in response. “It’s not.”

“Your ex-husband slept with your best friend. Yeah, I’d be mad, too.” His comment wasn’t really meant to irk you, but he successfully did so. Minus the intention. “Getting mad is understandable, getting jealous is questionable. Which one are you?”

Fuck it. “I said I’m not jealous. Will you stop now?” You sunk yourself under the covers, turning your back on Toji. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Now that he knew and you saw his reaction, you wondered what it would be like if Gen and Ian knew. Or if your dad knew. What would they think of Satoru? What would they think of Akemi? No, nevermind that. What would they think of you? Another fool in a deck of cards? Another game that was played with?

You didn’t want to know.

Ideally, you and Satoru really shouldn’t have gone to this New York trip together as if your family was still intact, because as much as you wished that that was true, you were far from that. You were only playing house for the sake of your son, but that also meant putting you in a painfully awkward situation together as ex-spouses. He had a girlfriend back home and you had a loving and loyal fiancé who proved the whole word that he was loyal to you. And although your respective partners were supporting the whole co-parenting situation, you knew by yourselves that this was nowhere to near to being comfortable for them, too.

“Everything okay?” You heard the familiar voice of your past, only to see his dull, blue eyes taking a peek at you.

“Yeah,” you replied, almost inaudibly. You just boarded the plane while Satoru was talking to the pilot, and found your spot on one of the beds in his private jet. It took a few minutes for him to get to where you were now. “Why?”

He shrugged, eyeing a sleepy Sachiro next to you. “Just wanna make sure you and Sachi are comfortable.”

You didn’t know what else to say, so you just looked back at your peaceful son who was hugging his elmo plush like the cute angel he was. Even though he was growing so fast, you could still remember how he was just as small as a puppy in your arms when he was first born. The memory of it caused you to press your lips on his forehead, caressing his soft, white hair. At some point while observing the scene, your son’s father thought it would be a good idea to slide the blanket further up your shoulders, acting as though he was only doing it to keep Sachiro warm. And later, he sat on the reclined airplane seat, drinking the coffee that was served to him by the stewardess.

It was crazy.

Crazy that Toji could be lying next to you and you would feel nothing. But Gojou was meters away from you and your mind was on a never-ending race.

Just before noon, the airplane landed safely at JFK airport and Satoru’s driver took you straight to Central Park Towers, treated like a V.I.P. by security just because your ex-husband was Japan’s third richest person and second most influential businessman. At times like these, you would almost forget the power Satoru held even before he was the chairman. You two were almost royalty. Now that he was leading the Gojou Group, his reputation only grew more despite the scandal of your broken marriage. He knew not to share his relationship publicly anymore nor did he expose Sachiro to any of his social media. It was a mutual decision for you to keep your son away from the spotlight knowing the scrutiny and the lack of privacy that would enter your lives once again—all the unnecessary noise, the unwanted comments, the unruly attention. Besides, for safety reasons, Sachiro had to be hidden from the public since he would become the sole heir to his father’s conglomerate, inheriting his parents combined assets that could one day make him the richest and most sought after bachelor in Japan.

“Mamaaa!” A lively Sachi came running to you as soon as he entered the lobby of the apartment suites, his father following him behind.

“Careful, baby!” you said, standing at the lobby while talking to your housekeeper, “You might trip.”

Satoru decided to carry his son after noticing your worried expression and immediately walked towards you. He was all smiles as he looked at Sachiro’s cheerful blue eyes. “He seems a little excited, isn’t he?”

“He lived here for almost three years,” you answered, signaling a quick ‘thank you’ to your housekeeper before guiding your boys to the elevator. “He must’ve missed the place. Did you, Sachi?”

“Yes, mama~”

It was a little bittersweet for your ex-husband, though. Especially the moment he stepped inside the apartment, looking at every corner and realizing that it was the same place you had lived in back when he was suffering from emotional distress on the other side of the world. This apartment was where his own child grew up in and he had no idea he had even existen then. Not only did that make you a terrible ex-wife, but it also made you a heartless mother. You had separated them and now you were taking him to the place where you had his son hidden from him.

That wasn’t your intention. That was never your intention.

“I’m glad you chose a nice place,” he complimented, acting as casual as possible. “Does your father own this place or?”

“Gen loaned it to me,” you said, holding Sachiro’s hand while letting Satoru follow you closely. You stopped at one of the guest rooms and urged the tall man to feel at home. “You can stay here for the meantime.”

“I don’t wanna make things uncomfortable for Akemi.” He looked away, avoiding your eyes. “I can just stay at a hotel—”

“Dada!” His mini-me tugged at his hand along with yours. You already knew that those puppy eyes would look back at the both of you. “Sachi wants Dada to stay.”

Frankly, you weren’t upset a while ago, but since he had to bring up Akemi and make it seem like her feelings were his priority, you lost all the will to be kind. Was their relationship that deep for him to act like such a loyal, righteous partner? Where was that same loyalty when he married you? “Do whatever.”

Noticing the tension between his parents, Sachiro’s eyes started to well up with tears and that was all it took for you two to completely focus your attention back to your 3-year old.

“Sachi…” Satoru tried to reach for his son, but you (spitefully) beat him to it.

“It’s okay, my baby. Don’t cry,” you comforted your son, picking him up and carrying him in your arms, “Daddy will still visit you every day even if he's staying at a hotel.”

Satoru, as guilty as ever, shook his head and wiped his son’s eyes. “No. I’ll stay here for Sachi, okay? Don’t cry anymore.”

It felt like hours sitting on that enormous sofa, staring at the television screen even though your mind was miles away. You had already texted Toji good night and reassured him that everything was fine, but you still couldn’t stop thinking about what he was doing back home. Sachiro had fallen asleep almost half an hour ago, and how you wished you could also enjoy your slumber while snuggling under those heated blankets, but how could you? How could you be comfortable in the presence of an ex-husband who was coming out of his room, freshly showered in his low-waisted sweatpants and tight-fitting black shirt? Not to mention how he was obviously flexing his arms while drying his mop of messy, white hair with a towel. Ridiculous. A little seductive, but definitely ridiculous.

“Still up?” His sky blue eyes met yours as soon as he looked up.

You adjusted your position on the sofa and leaned on the corner, pulling a small cushion to place above your thighs. “Can’t sleep.”

And the night went on just like that. You, sitting on the couch. Him, sitting on the other end as if going near you might suffocate him. It didn’t help that the silence was beginning to be too uncomfortable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking of. Perhaps Akemi? Perhaps you? You doubted the latter.

“I think…” You cleared your throat to escape from the awkward tension. “I think I’m gonna go for a night swim. You can go to sleep next to Sachi tonight, just make sure not to wake him up.”

Satoru’s curious gaze trailed on you as you got up and tightened your robe. “It’s a little too late at night to go for a swim, no?”

You couldn’t even face him as you responded. “I need to clear my mind off some things.” And by things, you meant him and this whole mess of a situation that you had put yourselves together. Two divorcees staying in the same living space wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea to begin with.

“Want me to join you?” asked Satoru, and he himself could not believe he asked that question. He may have asked it out of his innate care for you, probably worried for no damn reason. What he didn’t realize was how wrong his suggestion was, especially that you two were dating other people now.

If only you were such a cruel person, how ironic would it be if you allowed Satoru Gojou to join you for a quick night swim?

How ironic would it be for you to feel each other’s warmth under the crystal pool, getting carried away by the romantic lights that lit the city?

How ironic would it be if the intense sexual tension ended with you doing things under the sheets, completely disregarding the fact that the both of you had respective partners who were overthinking this exact NYC trip?

How ironic would it be if, for once in your life, you became the cheater?

Thankfully, you didn’t have the mindset of a cheating person.

However, it was Satoru who took back his initial offer. “Never mind. Forget I even asked that,” he muttered, sounding annoyed more so to himself rather than at you.

You offered a nonchalant shrug. “Okay.”

And as you were heading to the poolside, you could sense Gojou’s presence behind even though he just very clearly rejected the idea of going on a swim with you. He was still the same confusing man that you married before. Only now, he was ten times worse. “Wait, Y/N.”

“What?” You turned around, annoyed at his push-and-pull behavior. At this point, you didn’t really care what he was thinking of anymore. All you did was to take off your robe, leaving yourself with only your underwear on before you slowly got down on the pool.

Gojou, on the other hand, was ridding himself of his shirt and sweatpants to join you in the pool with just his boxers on. What even was this situation? You two had that same question in your head despite swimming at the edge of the pool to stare at the cityscape. “I only asked to join you because I wanted to talk. That’s all.”

You wanted to laugh at how he was clearing his intentions to you.

“Why do you sound defensive around me?” He couldn’t see it, but you were rolling your eyes as you leaned against the pool coping. “I never knew Akemi would be the jealous type.”

Satoru looked surprised by your claim, seeming as though he didn’t recognize the kind of person you were anymore. You were never this unreasonably sarcastic nor acidic with your words during your marriage even at the height of his affair with Sera, yet you had just become the worst version of yourself. “She isn’t,” he muttered, finding his spot next to you, “But I don’t wanna give her a reason to be.”

You huffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You make it sound like I’m gonna make a move on you or something.”

“I never said that.”

“You were thinking about it.”

“Says who?”

What is it about Satoru Gojou that makes him so irritating? Was it the way he talks? The way he thinks he’s always right? The way he acts like he’s such a clean person?

“Please,” you retorted, bitterly. “Toji isn’t comfortable having you around me, either. Just so you know.”

“Can we just—” There. His last string of patience finally snapped and his true colors came to show when he grabbed your wrist and made you face him. The spiteful Satoru. He was back, even just for a second. “Y/N, I’m not trying to argue with you here. I’m trying to talk to you like a civilized person. You’re the mother of my child and I respect you. I’d still care for you and will always protect you, but I want you to at least act like a fucking person around me. You’re a grown woman.”

Wasn’t it bad that he, of all people, was basically telling you to grow up? Memories of your marriage and all the back-and-forth arguments that you had with him flashed before your eyes. He should be the last one to say such a thing. “You’re the one who’s been crossing the fucking line with me since day one, Gojou. Don’t tell me to—”

“And do you wish I had just killed myself for you to forgive me?!” The ridges of his neck became prominent, making his anger much visible now. He was staring down at you intensely, backing you against the edge of the pool, trapping you in between his arms. “I’d have probably done that. But you…You did unforgivable things to me and look how easy it was for me to forgive you.”

You looked away, not trying to have this conversation again. Not trying to have your guilt eat your heart out. Maybe your behavior really had become too much and it was about time you take a step back and realize how ridiculous you had been acting because no way was this man trying to make a better point than you.

“I slept with Akemi, I know. She’s your best friend, I fucking know. But I never did that to get back at you,” his voice bore so much authority in them. “I begged on my knees just to be with you again. Swallowed my pride just for you to be my wife again!” His breathing became ragged. “But you chose to move on. You said you love Toji. You said you’d be happier without me, so why don’t I deserve to be happy without you?”

The inability to speak wasn’t because you were at a loss of words. The problem was choosing the right ones. Words that wouldn’t put you in a disadvantageous position. Words that wouldn’t make you look like an unreasonable person.

“You wished me well when you first found out about Akemi and I. You said you don’t care who I choose to date even if that choice is her,” he said, much calmer this time. He was placing his forehead against yours, body pressed against each other. “If that was true, then why are you still so angry with me?”

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with him. His eyes were the same kind of blue that reflected off of the surface of the pool. Anyone could easily get lost in it, but you knew where to place yourself in order not to. “I’m… not angry…”

“Baby, you and I both know that’s not true,” he said with a serious gaze, lifting your chin with his hand.

But you swatted it away, averting your eyes. “Don’t call me baby. You’re being ridiculous.”

With a loud sigh, Gojou gave up and simply placed his forehead on your shoulder, letting you feel the weight of his head and the warmth of his breath. “If you were still my wife, I’d have kissed you right now,” he declared, breathing heavily as if stopping with all of his will to do what he just said. “I’d touch every inch of you, tell you how much I love you, carry you back into that room, and make more beautiful babies with you…”

“Satoru,” you warned just as he pulled away, smiling despite the sorrow in his eyes.

“…But I won’t do that. I’m not gonna do that,” he claimed and sounded like he was convincing himself rather than clearing it up. “Akemi doesn’t deserve a partner who can’t move on from his ex-wife, so I’m doing my best to forget about you.”

Your breathing took a halt. You weren’t sure where those tiny pricks in your heart came from. Toji needed the same. He deserved a wife who wasn’t pining for her ex-husband. Satoru was just being true.

“Then, forget about me,” you gave a barely audible reply.

Gojou pulled away and kept his distance now, showing that he was indeed trying to stick to his words. “I will.”

Why did it hurt when it shouldn’t have?

“Good.”

He looked at you with eyes that carried a million emotions. But what was most visible was him seeing the light, probably realizing that he truly was doing the right thing and that he was proud of himself for being able to resist you. Because then, that only meant he was only a few steps away from the path of moving on. That if he could let you go, then he could live a better life.

It only made sense why he pulled that little stunt back there—being close enough to you was probably his way of differentiating how his body reacted to you versus how it reacted to Akemi. And now that he was able to determine whatever difference that might be, it would be easier for him to know what exactly to avoid.

After all, you two would be spending the rest of your lives as a present mom and dad to Sachiro. Co-parenting was your only connection and the only way to make that work without falling for each other was to rid yourselves of any kind of attraction towards one another.

Good for him.

“Let’s be good parents, Y/N.” Satoru looked at you from across the pool. “Let’s set a good example for Sachi and show that divorced parents can still be good parents. Let’s not be toxic to each other, especially not in front of him.” His words were coming from his personal experience and as you knew the whole history behind the mess within his family, you were truthfully considerate of his words. His traumatic experiences were what shaped him to become the problematic man you once married, and he was doing his best not to let his own son be the same. “I’ll provide Sachiro with everything he needs and I’ll always be present in his life, so please let me have as much time with him as possible. I’m making up for the three years I lost with him.”

You nodded. “I don’t have a problem with that.

As the established relationship you had with Gojou became more professional and strictly transactional, the distance between you two also grew more and more. There was no longer any space for love and intimacy. There was only familiarity and acquaintanceship.

“Go to sleep soon,” he said without sending another glance your way, climbing out of the pool and reaching for his clothes, “We have a long day tomorrow.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst

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ms-demeanor · 7 months

Note

Hi there! Firstly, wanna say a huge thank you: your blog has inspired me to become more educated about cybersecurity and nutrition, and it’s the reason my brother and I now use Firefox! I came across this article and… it seemed to raise a lot of valid points about Mozilla, but I have no idea if they are true or not since I’m not that knowledgeable about tech, and they go against everything I’ve ever heard about Firefox. Wanted to ask if you wouldn’t mind giving it a quick read, if that’s not too much trouble, and explaining why it’s false/true? If you can, ofc, I realise that is a weird request, and I promise it&: not something I’d usually ask someone. I just thought I’d ask since you’re the only sort of ‘tech’ person I can think of whom I’d trust to know stuff about this. https://digdeeper.neocities.org/articles/mozilla

So this is a great example of someone reading a ToS uncharitably and extracting the most paranoid bullshit possible.

Aside from the absolute classic "oh noes they are storing info about what devices you use" (if you use firefox logged in mozilla will collect information about what device and OS you use to connect; they do this for a lot of reasons like figuring out what stuff the bulk of their users are using but also because *they can't display on your device without that data*) I want to zoom in on this as an example:

BTW, there is one really funny thing inside the account ToS (MozArchive) that I just have to mention: "We may suspend or terminate your access to the Services at any time for any reason, including [...] our provision of the Services to you is no longer commercially viable." The fuck? If you stop bringing them profit, you're gone. They really said that! To me, this is a roundabout admission that your data is being sold. And if it's not worth much (for whatever reason), then you get kicked out.

This person is highlighting the idea that they may cut you off from services if the provision of those services is no longer commercially viable. This author is saying "FIREFOX WILL BOOT YOU WHEN YOU STOP BEING A PROFITABLE LITTLE PAYPIG FOR THEM"

But. Okay. Let's go look at that section of the ToS:

These Terms will continue to apply until ended by either you or Mozilla. You can choose to end them at any time for any reason by deleting your Mozilla account, discontinuing your use of the Services, and if applicable, unsubscribing from our emails. We may suspend or terminate your access to the Services at any time for any reason, including, but not limited to, if we reasonably believe: (i) you have violated these Terms, (ii) you create risk or possible legal exposure for us; or (iii) our provision of the Services to you is no longer commercially viable. We will make reasonable efforts to notify you by the email address associated with your Mozilla account or the next time you attempt to access the Services. In all such cases, these Terms shall terminate, including, without limitation, your license to use the Services, except that the following sections shall continue to apply: Indemnification, Disclaimer; Limitation of Liability, Miscellaneous.

Bud. This says "we are not obligated to provide services to you and we may stop providing services that cost us more money to maintain than is viable." This isn't about selling your data, this is about backwards compatibility and sunsetting projects. They don't have to keep providing access to services they're no longer developing nor bend over backwards to make sure that you can keep running a version of the browser that uses the extensions they dropped support for ten years ago.

Ugh. I got to the section where they talk about cucking for manifest3 and jesus this asshole. Manifest 3 is a defacto set of web standards that are changing because google has so much market share as a browser that if they do something everybody else has to follow or they're going to break basic functionality; if they don't make these changes eventually a shitload of websites just will not work on firefox. WAY more than currently experience this problem. Nobody is happy about manifest 3 and the fact that mozilla put out a press release about coming manifest 3 changes (that was not positive!) doesn't mean they're happy about getting dragged along by the nose; this blogger would prefer something like them refusing to adopt those standards, but all that would happen is that they'd lose more users because less shit would work on firefox browsers since people write their sites for chrome first and anything else second if at all.

This writer also gripes a lot about things like "mozilla took away this functionality for the sake of security and SURE you can change that by going into the configurations but it should be an option right in the first panel of the settings what are they really trying to hide???" and they're not trying to hide anything bud they're trying to make a functional browser with intuitive menus for people who aren't power users.

Like they want to be able to do everything they want and they want to be able to see the option in front of them at all times. It's a weird combination of "I know how to configure everything about this browser" and "if a setting is ever hidden behind a readmore it's a dark pattern and is an attack on user privacy." Like they gripe a lot about privacy and then link to a bunch of pages on mozilla where they explain their privacy settings and link to tutorials on how to hide the data that they just explained they collect.

Yeah this is someone I would walk away from in order to avoid getting into a fistfight.

"FOSS licenses are nice but they don't ensure quality" nobody said they did.

"FOSS licensed softwares don't always accept user participation in development" nobody said they did

"I can't change the actual code of firefox to remove things that I don't like don't tell me to fork it it has to be all or nothing mozilla specifically has to do what I want or it's user hostile" I can see why it would be hostile to you as a user fuck you dude this is why forks *exist* (also the "spyware" discussed is basic browser tracking stuff, the realistic necessities of how email work that make it not private by default like the PROTOCOLS are not private you can't get around that, and a lot of the stuff is opt out but improves functionality for day to day users, AND a lot of the tracking is specifically for people with logged-in accounts which are not necessary to use firefox like if you hate pocket don't use it my friend! I also hate pocket it is quite simple to never use it thanks)

"There's no justification for making the source code unavailable" my dude. https://hg.mozilla.org/mozilla-central/

"If they really cared about an open internet they'd work toward killing capitalism." Friend. I think there's very little more that a web browser could do to undermine the capitalist nature of huge chunks of the web and maintain a broad userbase than what firefox is doing.

I'm reminded of the time that I saw someone losing their shit about a linux distro that included chrome as *a* browser - not the default browser, but *a* browser.

It is an unpleasant fact that a lot of firefox's funding comes from google. That's part of why google is still the default search engine in Firefox and I read some similar articles decrying mozilla's residence firmly in Google's pocket a few years ago. I don't think there's anyone at mozilla who is genuinely pleased that their cheques are signed by google, but there are a ton of people at mozilla who are happy they can keep the lights on because getting paid by google means that they can do as much as they possibly can to create a functional browser that has a significant interest in privacy by default and that can be made *VERY* private by a dedicated user.

Anyway a lot of the stuff on this post is things like "a certificate expired five years ago and broke extensions and that means that mozilla is incompetent and hates users" or "eleven years ago there was a slapfight in the bug reporting forums between a user and a mod and the fact that the user was kicked after repeatedly being told his fix wasn't going to get made is censorship."

The big beefs at the center of this post are:

Mozilla collects data on users

Mozilla limits functionality that should be up to the users

Mozilla takes money from google

and my refutations are:

it does, and it is less than any other mainstream browser and is much much more transparent about what data is collected and how to prevent that data from being collected

A lot of the functionality they're discussing is still there and the stuff that isn't is allowing unsigned extensions which, dude, put a fork in it. They're not going to budge on unsigned extensions but the bar you have to clear to get signed is really really low; like this guy is LITERALLY saying "allow the installation of malicious extensions."

Yep. They do. This point reminds me of a lot of the people on tumblr who hate ads but also hate it when people pay for tumblr. As it turns out making things costs money, and making things used by millions of people costs *A LOT* of money.

I mean FFS one of the things this writer complains about is that Mozilla has a YouTube page.

This isn't just letting perfect be the enemy of good, it's letting perfect be the enemy of *functionally existing as a large organization in the modern world.*

Anyway, I'm glad you enjoy my blog, thank you for letting me know!

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didalexiabreakupwitholgayet · 2 months

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Could you explain the hate like train of alexia in the Spanish media causes one moment she's getting praised and all and all of a sudden their calling her names traitor etc.. like where did this originated from

oh boy. where to even start with this question because, unfortunately, the hate comes from a few different angles. you have to realize that in spain, rfef (the federation) has its supporters among various media outlets, so that's a major source of the hate.

let me break down some of the big ones because it's a lot:

#SeAcabo/Oliva - i would argue that the majority of hate nowadays stems from alexia's role in the #seacabo movement and her support of jenni in the rubiales sexual abuse/harassment case, and the tweet that launched the hashtag.

in the immediate aftermath, veteran players like alexia, irene, etc. were accused of horrible things like grooming younger players and alleging that they wanted vilda/rfef officials removed because it prevented them for sexually abusing young players. just the most gross and vile filth.

and alexia and irene both took a major role during the oliva conclave back in september 2023, which really was a turning point for the spanish nt. this was when montse was first named as head coach and called in a bunch of players like mapi/patri (but not jenni) and the players pushed back. this resulted in the oliva accords where rfef and the govt committed to measures to improve conditions for the athletes, including firing members of the rfef who were implicated in the rubiales case. obviously, this pissed off media who thought the women's team and their leader (alexia) had too much power. COPE, in particular, had tons of heinous things to say.

2. Las 15/Vilda - but even before the world cup, let's not forget the hate that was spewed due to the first "Las 15" protest and alexia's support of them. i won't get into all of the details but you can read about it here and here. now, alexia did not sign on to the email because she had done her ACL, but she RTd it and obviously supported the message behind it. alexia even talked about the poor conditions of the NT in her documentary. but the way the media treated the players and called them names like spoiled little girls was just appalling.

fast forward to the pre world cup camp, and alexia (and others) have returned to the national team. then you had people calling alexia and aitana rats and traitors for "caving in" and returning to the nt when players like mapi and patri stood their ground. (as an aside, i'll defend all these players and the individual decisions they made, and i think they each contributed in their own way to improving conditions for the team).

3. Barça contract renewals/will she or won't she? - this is got to be the dumbest controversy but in recent months there's been a lot of (unnecessary) controversy and hate spun up by the media in relation to alexia's contract negotiations. we've been thrown into this stupid dichotomy of a) either alexia is being selfish and greedy and asking for millions when barça is suffering due to financial fair play, or b) evil barça is unwilling to pay alexia after all the publicity and accolades she's done for the club.

to add flames to the fire, alexia is called up to the national team by montse last month as she is recovering from injury and now apparently the media is reporting that barça is pissed and alexia is acting in a manner that is traitorous to her club that she would allegedly jeopardize her health to play for the NT and that there have been disagreements between club/nt/alexia about alexia's fitness. blah, blah, blah.

i personally think this is all bs. contract negotiations are obviously tricky because you have to keep in mind that coming behind alexia and mariona this year, are a bunch of other players including aitana. so it'll take time to work out deals because the market is so inflated right now. at the end of the day alexia will re-sign will barça soon and all of this will be hopefully forgotten. after all, alexia is barça and barça is alexia.

4. Machismo/Facha/Nationalistic culture - no, i'm not just talking about athenea's bf. 🫢 there's a segment of spanish society that will always hate alexia and jenni and irene just for being who they are. whether it's their sexuality, playing a sport in a male dominated industry, or just being women. sadly, there are right wing groups (vox, etc.) that are on the rise everywhere in europe and spain is no exception.

5. Barça vs. Real Madrid - and finally, you have to contend with spanish history and the divisions between madrid/the royal seat of power and the autonomous communities in spain. alexia is catalana. and a proud one at that. barcelona vs. real madrid is more than just a sports rivalry. it goes way beyond sports to the political and cultural history of these areas. you will always find people using that excuse as a way to hate on alexia and barça in general. there are people who are still jealous and aggrieved that spain's female ballon d'or winners are catalan! get over yourself!

if you want to read more on fc barcelona and its political history, then start here and here.

at the end of the day, alexia putellas is a human being just like all of us. she isn't perfect. she isn't a saint. but you cannot deny that her actions around football have always been guided by her heart and wanting to do the best for her teams and improving the cause of women's football in spain. punto.

#i did not expect to get this political today but here we are #alexia putellas #irene paredes #jenni hermoso #fcb femení #barca femeni #barca women #futfem #woso #espwnt

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pippytmi · 3 months

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kacy + a break-up AU based on this prompt list: "you’re my emergency contact and i’ve been in an accident so you drop everything to come to the hospital"

———————————————————————

The thing no one says about breakups is that they're an utter inconvenience.

Kate tries to rationalize it; she was dating Lucy Tara for twelve months and thirteen days, it's only natural to have established a routine that will take some time to unlearn. So when she wakes up and reaches for a warm body that isn't there, it still takes a while to remember why. And when she makes her morning coffee, maybe sometimes she will pour the creamer that Lucy likes by accident. (By the end of the week, she will have to pour the whole container down the drain). That’s normal too. Mostly.

Lucy’s absence hits the most in the morning, but Kate goes through the motions anyway. Before Lucy she would always take her coffee outside and sit on the balcony to watch the sunrise, so she still does it. Of course now there’s no Lucy wrapped up in a blanket and insistently making her way onto Kate’s lap to sleep while she does it, but. Kate sips from her mug and watches the clouds roll in over the gloomy horizon and pretends nothing has changed.

The drive to work is quiet save for the gentle patter of rain against her windows. Her radio is still set to the station Lucy likes, and Kate hasn’t managed to change it. Baby steps—that’s all it takes. Maybe tomorrow Kate might have the courage to switch it back to her own.

And when everything at home is too loud and simultaneously too empty, there’s work. Kate gets to her desk and finds a mountain of files with new assignments, and she welcomes them with open arms; her work has always been separate from Lucy, and it's the one constant she doesn't need to readjust to.

For a blissful hour and a half, Kate is in her own world. She argues with a client about what confidentiality means (and what it doesn't). She reschedules the deposition of a plaintiff on a particularly high-profile case because opposing counsel has accidentally double-booked. She creates an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of her new cases but organizes the clients by market value.

By all accounts, her morning is shaping up considerably. That is, until her cell phone starts buzzing.

She ignores the first call from the unknown number flashing on the screen. Instead, she gets coffee from the awful machine in the break room. The second call comes thirty minutes later, and Kate ignores it again, spends her time politely explaining how to use the fax machine to her confused new paralegal.

When her phone rings a third time—just as Kate has gotten out of a grueling meeting with the senior attorneys which should've been an email—she answers it solely for peace of mind: “This is Kate.”

There's a brief shuffle on the other end. “Hi, I'm calling from St. Joseph Hospital for a Katherine Whistler?”

“Speaking,” Kate says curtly, prepared to give a spiel about how she won't donate at this time when the caller continues,

“Oh—good morning.” More shuffling. “Is this a good time? I have a sensitive matter to discuss.”

Kate frowns even if the person on the other line can't see it. “Yes, it's fine,” she says, and watches as her work phone lights up with another call that she will just have to return later.

“I'm calling on behalf of a patient: Lucy Tara. She has you listed as her emergency contact. She is unresponsive and we were wondering if you could come in to discuss the particulars of her care…”

The rest of the call is static. Kate almost drops her phone entirely, only grasping onto select words like they're a lifeline. Lucy is alive. Lucy is hurt. Lucy was found unconscious. Lucy has yet to wake up. Lucy is alive.

Kate doesn't even tell anyone she's leaving; she just goes. Later, senior attorney Michael Curtis will tell Kate that she looked extremely pale and sickly when rushing out of the office, but Kate will only remember a vague blur from that phone call to actually arriving at the hospital. It might be the most reckless thing she’s ever done, come to think of it.

Dr. Carla Chase is the physician assigned to Lucy’s care, and she takes one look at Kate and blinks as if surprised to see her. “Forget an umbrella?”

“I'm sorry?” Kate says, heart caught dangerously high in her throat. She's literally choking on worry—Dr. Chase’s words don't sink in until she takes a step forward and realizes she is currently dripping all over the linoleum floor.

Dr. Chase gives her a small, sympathetic smile. “Let me ease your mind,” she says. “Ms. Tara woke up. Our timeline is good, she was not unconscious for long. Has a concussion and a nasty bump, but she's going to be just fine.”

Kate breathes. “Oh,” she says shakily, and embarrassingly, hot tears spring to her eyes at the confirmation. “That's…great. Thank you.”

“You can come inside, see her. I'll go find you a towel.” Even though Kate is a sopping mess, Dr. Chase still pauses to place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze reassuringly.

Even with the worst over, the hardest part is still walking into the room—harder still is watching as Lucy looks up with those wide, curious eyes that become expressionless the instant she sees Kate.

“Kate? What are you doing here?” Lucy asks, voice not quite harsh but definitely not welcoming.

Kate opens her mouth, but is unable to form words. She's too stuck just staring at Lucy: at the bruise that colors the entirety of the swell of her cheek, at the large bandage over her jaw, at the purpling of her black eye. Any relief at knowing that Lucy is awake sinks into horror at the state of Lucy’s injuries.

“Kate,” Lucy repeats, frowning. “Why do you look like someone died?” A beat. “And why are you wet?”

“The—the hospital called me,” Kate manages. “Are you okay? How are you…how are you feeling?”

“I'm fine. I just fell down a stupid mountain.” Lucy smooths down her blanket, twisting the corner between her fingertips the way she does when she's uncomfortable.

“A mountain?”

“It's not as dramatic as it sounds,” Lucy says. “Kai and I were searching for a missing kid and we got separated, and with the rain it was muddy and foggy and…well, you get it.”

“And he left you there? Unconscious?” Kate has met Kai Holman once or twice, and knows very little about him except that just like Lucy, he volunteers for search and rescue missions to escape his normal job. Beyond that, Kate’s opinion of him is quickly going downhill.

“He wasn't there when it happened,” Lucy argues. “I already texted him and explained, but, I told him he didn't have to come see me or anything.” She stops. “So why did you come?”

“Because the hospital called,” Kate says again, which is pretty self-explanatory.

Apparently, Lucy does not feel the same way. “But you didn't have to answer the phone,” she points out. “We’re not together. You could've just said ‘sorry, she’s my ex’ and called it a day.”

Kate stiffens. “You're the one who has me as your emergency contact. It was the…decent thing to do,” she says.

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Okay, congratulations,” she says, “you have done your civic duty of not being an asshole. But I’m alright, so you can go back to deep-sea diving in your pantsuit or whatever you were up to before this.”

“Hold on,” Kate says, a flare of panic overtaking any objection she might have to Lucy’s disdain (which is completely unwarranted, by the way). “How are you getting home?”

“They’ve invented a modern miracle called an Uber, not sure if you heard.” Lucy waves her phone exaggeratedly. “I’ll survive.”

It's an out, and Kate should take it. She should walk out that door and never look back, let all the unsaid issues between them continue to morph and mutate into something ugly and irreversible. But she can’t.

“I’ll drive you home,” Kate says at last.

Lucy immediately shakes her head. “That’s not necessary,” she says. “Seriously. If you’re that against Ubers, I can call Kai and get him here in two seconds. He’d be more than happy to take me home.”

“That would be unnecessary. I’m already here.”

“And you don’t have to be,” Lucy reiterates, staring Kate down like she expects her to cave.

If it were any other situation, Kate would. She's soaked head to toe from the rain, she has no obligation to be here, and by all accounts either reason would be a rational excuse to extradite herself from this hospital. Especially the former—the chill of her wet clothes is finally beginning to catch up to her, and she blindly brushes back her damp hair while resisting the urge to shiver. It would be the rational decision to go home and change into warm clothes (and explain to her boss why she left without as much as a text explaining why).

But for once in her life, Kate isn't being rational. “I'm not leaving,” she says, crossing her arms in an attempt to look firm.

Lucy sighs, sagging backwards against her pillow. “Come on, Kate,” she says. “This is awkward enough. I don't need a babysitter after one tiny little fall.”

“Down a mountain,” Kate says, unable to let that fact go. “What do your parents think about this?”

“I…might've not told them. Exactly.” Lucy bites her lip in an obvious effort not to wince. “I asked for the day off when I woke up, so.”

Kate blinks. “You woke up after a traumatic fall,” she says slowly, “and…asked your parents for PTO.”

“I wouldn't call it traumatic. That's such an ugly word. Limiting, even,” Lucy says. “It would've been a total badass move if it hadn't been, you know, raining.”

A knock against the wall announces Dr. Chase’s arrival, who has thankfully brought Kate that towel. “How are we doing?” she asks.

“Ready to get out of here,” Lucy says, sitting up eagerly. “Whenever you say so, doc.”

“Well, I really would recommend a CT scan to be on the safe side,” Dr. Chase says. “But given that you've passed all our cognitive tests and your vision is good, I can consider a discharge…as long as you have someone at home to monitor you today and make sure no further symptoms arise. And no sleeping until your normal bedtime.”

“I’ll be with her,” Kate interjects as she towels off her hair. Lucy looks like she might argue, but her desire to leave must win out, because she doesn't speak up.

“Fantastic. Let me get your discharge paperwork and a prescription for some painkillers—all over the counter. Then we're going to have a serious discussion about what you should and should not do, okay?”

“Got it. Thanks, Dr. Chase,” Lucy says cheerfully, but the instant the doctor leaves, so does her smile. “What was that? You obviously can't stay with me.”

“I know,” Kate says defensively, even if—for a second—she had been completely prepared to. “I'm sure Ernie or Jane can monitor your symptoms just fine.”

“...yeah,” Lucy agrees slowly, as if she had been expecting Kate to argue. Then, “Oh, shit. I actually forgot to tell Jane I'm here.” She frantically opens her phone and starts texting up a flurry, her brow crinkling as she concentrates on her screen, and Kate is brought back to movie nights spent scouring Wikipedia articles and faux-arguing over date night picks and it's…too much.

This is the opposite of unlearning; this is an all too painful reminder that Lucy Tara is no longer in her life. Kate wrings the damp towel between her hands and takes a deep breath to save face. At the very least, Lucy doesn't seem to have caught on to Kate’s internal turmoil, because when she looks up again all the cheerfulness from before is back.

Kate knows in that instant she never wants Lucy to lose that cheer again. “Everything okay?” she asks, aiming for just-polite-enough interest, and Lucy is gracious enough to allow it.

“They found the missing girl,” Lucy says, sagging backwards in obvious relief. “Thank God.” When she smiles, even if it’s down at her phone, Kate nearly tears up all over again.

“That’s great.” Kate clears her throat, places her hands in her (wet) pockets, and tries very hard to act casual. “So is Jane going to stay with you, then?”

“No—she’s the one who found the kid, she has to stay and give the police a statement,” Lucy mutters, biting her lip distractedly as she types out another message. “I’ll see what Ernie’s up to.”

By the time Dr. Chase comes back with discharge paperwork and a spiel about avoiding screens (during which Lucy noticeably peeks at Kate, like she might rat her out), Kate has already resolved herself to zero interference. Obviously it’s not what she wants, but she listens to Dr. Chase and nods along at all the right times while in her head she is already drafting a very long message to Ernie with all the relevant information. Then she drives Lucy home to that bleak apartment that Lucy lives in mostly as a general “fuck you” to her parents, which Kate swears is either haunted or infested by very spirited roaches.

The entire ride there, Lucy doesn’t say anything about the car’s radio being set to her favorite station (and which Kate would always complain about), which is just as well. Kate isn’t sure how she would’ve explained it.

“This not sleeping thing sucks, I’m honestly dead tired with our without a concussion,” Lucy groans as she exits the vehicle, stretching her arms overhead.

Kate follows her outside, and when Lucy gives her a questioning look, she says, “Ernie’s not here yet, is he? I can at least wait with you until he does.”

“I’m sure I can survive thirty minutes alone, Kate,” Lucy says. “I won’t pass out the instant you walk away or anything.”

“I’d really rather wait,” Kate says, and Lucy sighs.

“Fine. God, I would’ve changed my emergency contact ASAP if I’d known you would be such a stickler for lame hospital rules.” Lucy wraps herself up in a large black hoodie which Kate recognizes as her own, still muddy from the fall but otherwise intact.

“Why did you?” Kate finds herself asking, mouth three steps ahead of her head, and Lucy pauses outside her apartment door.

“You mean why didn’t I change it? Because I forgot, I wasn’t exactly expecting to land in the hospital.”

“No, why…why did you make me your emergency contact in the first place?” Kate clarifies, her voice strangely quiet even to her own ears.

Lucy methodically unlocks her door, but her hands falter. “Just because,” she says at last. “You know how it is. Anything was better than my parents. Sorry I didn’t…ask you first.”

“Well, I mean,” Kate shrugs, “I didn’t ask you either.”

At that, Lucy whirls around, mouth agape. “You made me your emergency contact?”

Kate hesitates. “Yes? After like six months. It was a practical decision, we spent pretty much all our time together and I assumed…”

Somehow, she’s said the wrong thing, because Lucy’s eyes darken. “Right.” She moves away, digging through her fridge in search of something to drink, and Kate awkwardly leans against the kitchen counter and tries to make sense of what’s going on.

“Did you eat anything today?” Kate attempts to change the subject. “I can make you something before Ernie gets here.”

Lucy takes a gulp of a water bottle and doesn’t respond, just eyes Kate from across the kitchen with a sharp, unyielding glare. Finally, the words seem to burst out: “I wish you weren’t so—fucking—” She shakes her head. “Do you even know how you sound, sometimes? No girl wants to hear that they’re the practical choice. Just once, I wish you’ve would picked me because you wanted me.”

Kate feels her entire body prickle, partly in shock and partly in indignation. “What are you talking about? I did pick you.”

“Did you?” Lucy tilts her head. “”Cause it kind of feels like you picked the idea of me. At least, that’s how Cara tells it.”

“Seriously? Cara? She—” Kate pauses to exhale, swallows back a frustrated sob. “She’s wrong. I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you. Fuck, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” This time, her voice quivers like the sob might escape, and some of the steel in Lucy’s gaze softens.

“Then why did you leave?”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Kate says. “You were pushing me away, Lucy. What was I supposed to think?”

“You should’ve fought harder for me,” Lucy says. “You could have talked to me. Jesus, Kate, I don’t—I can’t have this conversation right now. I’m basically a prisoner in my house, this is the last thing I need.”

Kate’s shoulders fall. “I know,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that either,” Lucy snaps, and she chugs the remainder of her water before she stalks out of the room. “No apologies. Okay?”

“Okay.” Kate waits to see if Lucy will come back to the kitchen, but she doesn’t. Instead, she hears the tell-tale sound of Lucy banging around through her board game drawer, because the chess set Ernie gave her rattles and gives it away. Kate tentatively enters the living room, finds Lucy sorting through a Monopoly box, but doesn’t try to say anything else.

Lucy breaks the silence all on her own, eventually. “I have nothing to cook,” she says. “But I asked Ernie to bring food with him.”

“Alright.” Kate doesn’t sit down because her clothes are still damp, but she does wait by the couch. “Can I help with anything?”

“No.” Lucy is sitting cross-legged on the floor and carefully stacking Monopoly money into piles by color, her muddy hoodie occasionally smearing against the carpet. “I’m fine.” She obviously isn’t; her jaw is clenched, her back stiff, her entire demeanor still a perfect mirror of her anger.

Kate wisely doesn’t push. And when Ernie arrives carrying Thai food and a thick stack of books which Lucy is outwardly horrified at, Kate doesn’t try to stay.

“I’m going to send you the doctor’s discharge instructions,” she tells Ernie instead, as Lucy gingerly pokes through one of the books Ernie has handed off. “Make sure Lucy eats something before she takes her meds.”

“On it, Dr. Whistler,” Ernie says seriously, his voice going low so Lucy can’t hear afterward. “And thanks, for being there. Even if you two aren’t…”

Kate casts one final look at Lucy Tara, bundled up in her clothes and adorably pouting at the prospect of reading all night instead of playing board games, and feels her heart beat so hard it hurts. “Take care of her,” she says, but it’s not a request.

Ernie gives her a small, sad smile. “I will.”

Lucy doesn’t say goodbye, but she does spare Kate one brief, sorrowful once-over like she wants to. Kate memorizes that look—lets it linger in the back of her mind—and doesn’t cry until the first cheery pop song from Lucy’s favorite station starts playing on the drive home.

She hits the button to turn off the radio altogether, but her finger slips and she accidentally switches stations instead. Kate eases the car to a stop at a red light, watches as rain begins to drizzle once more, and then she makes the executive decision to switch it back.

Baby steps.

#something about these two & their exes era....they have me in a chokehold im ngl #kacy #kate x lucy #ncis hawaii #i listened to 'emergency contact' by PTV a million times writing this btw. song of all time #i need a fic tag

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bitchesgetriches · 3 months

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How common is it to receive money from family members to put towards buying a home? Cause I’ve been talking to various lenders and real estate agents lately and a bunch of them have mentioned I could borrow from family members. I’m not sure if it’s cause I’m maybe a bit younger to be buying my own place so they assume I’m from generational wealth or if it’s cause they think I can’t afford anything and rather than tell me that just say I could borrow from family or maybe it’s just a super common thing to do and I’m out of the loop or a fourth option maybe they all have generational wealth. Idk it’s just an annoying thing to be asked because I would feel out of pocket even suggesting it and they all bring it up like it’s no biggie.

When we were in the process of house shopping 9 years ago, my beloved grandfather lost his battle with lung cancer. I emailed our real estate agent to ask her to cancel the next couple days of showings while my husband and I flew back East for the memorial service. Her response basically boiled down to "Sorry. But let me know if this changes your budget because you'll be inheriting a bunch of money!" If she'd said it to my face I would've punched her.

We did not, in fact, inherit any money from my grandfather. But her callous comment made me think that either

a) inheriting does happen from time to time during house-hunting

b) the only people able to afford their first homes these days are those who get help from older family because the market is currently insane

c) real estate agents want to do anything possible to increase buying costs because they personally benefit from a larger commission.

All of which is to say... I think these agents are being dickheads and you should either ignore them, tell them to stop being assholes, or fire them.

The Rent Is Too Damn High: The Affordable Housing Crisis, Explained

Season 2, Episode 2: “I'm Not Ready to Buy a House---But How Do I *Get Ready* to Get Ready?”

Did we just help you out? Tip us!

#real estate #affordable housing #buying a house #personal finance #adulting #how to buy a house

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harrysmimi · 1 year

Text

Date Night

Synopsis: One where Harry finally manages to convince his partner on a fancy dinner date

CW: mentions of anxiety, depression and body dysmorphia.

More of my work

It was a Friday night, YN had gotten off work early.

Well, to be honest she got nothing done today. Working from home comes with it's own pros and cons.

She liked to stay the weekend at home, buried in her bed. Maybe binge watch some random show on a random OTT site. Or just sleep.

Since the pandemic, YN had fallen into a dark place mentally. She could work from home but she was stuck in country over seas from her family.

She works at the London branch of Columbia Music label, in the marketing department. That's where she met Harry, now her boyfriend of almost two years.

Harry actually slipped her a personal email after a zoom meeting on planning a strategy to market his new album, asking for her number. YN was the team leader of the team who'd work hard on coming onto new ideas, so she had to be present in the meeting, explaining the presentation whilst her foster kitten walk all in front of her camera as she talked.

At first, YN was very sceptical about the e-mail. It was under his name, but it could be anyone. People hack into random zoom meeting all the time now. But again how did he get her e-mail?

So she just deleted that e-mail.

The next session though, he slipped into her private messages asking if she got his email. Of course she gave him his number as he said that he wanted to be involved in the process. She understood, it was his album, he spent days and nights working on it with his friends, he has to have a say in how it's marketed. Well, he partially lied. He just grew a tiny little infatuation on her, he wanted to get to know her.

It was her first project as Team Leader ever. She had just been promoted and it was sort of new to her when corporate decided to give her the position. Of course she was energetic going head first into the new responsibilities given to her. Especially for one of the company's biggest clients.

Her new responsibilities came with so much scrutiny as she was the youngest and least experienced person to be put up in a position of a leader. Disregarding her work ethics, her leadership skills and strengths, plus her qualifications.

It took a huge toll on her.

Talking to Harry was only thing keeping her sane in that moment, even though they had never seen each other in person ever before.

Whilst her parents and siblings were supportive of her in every single way, but yet, everytime she called them they'd be complaining about one another jokingly and never listen to her. She tried talking to her mother, but did she it never worked out as her entire family was stuck in one house.

Harry and her started dating around the time he was back in London. Their first date was on a FaceTime call. She was having some leftover rice she made the night before for dinner, and he was eating a Chinese take out and a homemade salad he made.

The salad was for balance, he said to her.

She was sat in living room/Dining room/bedroom/office; her coffee table, whilst he was comfortably sat at his fancy dining table at home. She didn't had her foster kitten to lurk around anymore, it got adopted very soon.

They continued to talk to one another over calls, texts, FaceTime every chance Harry got to be free. YN was basically free all the time, she works from home- unless she's in an online meeting. They'd fall asleep on FaceTime with one another. It was a long distance relationship even when both of them were in same place because of the pandemic restrictions. But both of them felt safe enough to move forward with their relationship.

Of course, Harry saw her falling into a dark place mentally. In fact she came forward and shared it with him finally as she was tired of being ignored by her family. He suggested her a few things which never worked out for her, and she is yet to find out a therapist she resonates with.

The first time Harry visited her flat to see her, it was like he has always been living there. He knew where everything was. That's when he took her to a very fancy dinner date. Their first and last fancy dinner date ever.

This time, Harry was in town finally after an exhausting yet memorable leg of tour in the States. He was dress fancy, the Prince Of Wales jacket from his own collection with a baby blue shirt underneath it, pair of black pants, and a random black coat because it was cold outside.

He walked into his girlfriend's flat buried in her bed, watching some gruesome murder documentory without a sliver of expression on her face. Her eyes and lips red, she probably cried whole day whilst working.

"Hey darling!" He dropped his coat and a bag he brought with him on the sofa and walked straight towards her bed. "What's wrong baby?"

"I don't know." She sniffled pausing the show she was watching. Pushing her laptop aside she straight away went in to hug him tight.

"Oh my angel!" He squeezed her tight closer to his chest. "It's alright baby, I'm here for you."

"I don't know why I'm crying all day. I just feel so numb." She mumbled, her face pushed against his neck.

Well, she's been stuck in her flat for about three months now. She only ever goes to buy groceries now, which she doesn't have to for two week straight. Her appetite has died a little bit from not getting much excercise done.

"I know baby, I know." He rubbed her back. "I came in to surprise you on a date, do you think getting out of the house would help you?"

"I seriously don't know." She shook her head, still hugging him close.

"How about we at least try, yeah?" He suggested, "you might feel better today by getting out. I'll have us a fun day planned for tomorrow as well." She whined in protest to that, "come on now, I've missed you. I promise we can leave if you don't feel like staying, okay?"

"Okay." She agreed, pulling away from him.

"Alright, I got you something." He with that he fetched her the bag he left on her sofa.

Inside was a cat plushy he saw a random store when he was out and about with his friends, he bought it because it reminded him of her. Along with it was a little bracelet he bought from yet another local business. But the cat mattered most to her in that moment.

"Thank you!" She cooed.

"You like it!" He flashed his dimples smile. "Now do get ready, we have a reservation at eight-thirty."

It was quater past five.

"Harry..." YN sighed, "I don't think I want to go to a fancy place."

"It's not that fancy."

"Harry, you took me a seven star restaurant saying the same thing." She groaned.

"I promise, it's not that fancy." He assured her, "wear the blue dress you impulsively bough online the other day, please?" He dragged her to her closet.

"I don't think it's going to fit me now," she made an excuse.

Or was it an excuse? It was a dress which is supposed her fit her figure like it was her skin at the bodice, doesn't matter if it had puffy long sleeves or it was hemmed at the floor length. She had obviously gained weight lile almost everyone else in the world during the pandemic.

Well, Harry was an exception. He's in more shape than ever. In a very healthy and very fucking cool way.

She had nothing else to wear though to a fancy restaurant, she rented a dress because their first date was planned days ahead. So she had no other option than to wear it.

Harry waited patiently for her to take a shower and het ready, he in fact helped himself with some tea and helped her with her with the pile of dirty dishes. Even made her bed and folded the pile of clean laundry making neat stacks on her bed so she can put them away as she wished. All while he heard the shower go off and the hair dryer running.

Her house was pretty much clean apart from being messy. He know however she may be feelings, she doesn't like when a foul smell lingers around her flat or there is garbage laying around. She's just messy with her personal stuff.

He did not dare to touch her work desk though. She's very protective of that part of her flat.

She'd fine if he'd go through her personal valuables of documents, she hates it when anyone touches her desk or even moved a pen on there.

"Harry?" She called from the bathroom.

"Yes, love?"

"Can you please zip up my dress?" She asked opening the bathroom door just to pop her head out to look at him. He is always happy to help her.

He knows if she was in a good mood he wouldn't even let her put it on before they had a quickie. Keeping his mind out of gutter he helped her.

"You look so pretty baby, you were doubting yourself for nothing!" He placed a delicate kiss on side of her neck.

"I don't know, it doesn't look good."

All she saw was her perfectly normal tummy and her arms showing through the sheer fabric sticking out like needles in her eyes. She was doubting when the dress arrived in mail, she tried it on then showed it to Harry on FaceTime. It was a little loose and didn't fit her well. It doesn't now either.

"Come on, you know how hard I'm trying to keep my hands to myself now?" Harry genuinely find it difficult, he's not saying it to hype her up.

She just took in a deep breath and nodded, excused herself for wanting to do her makeup which wasn't much just some mascara and eyeliner she smoked out with concealer to hide her dark circles and eye bags and a pink lipstick. All the while Harry was sat there on the edge of the shower/bathtub admiring her. He helped her pick out the right pair of earrings, she already had the necklace she wears everyday, her dad gifted her on her 16th birthday. And they were set to go.

......................................................................

YN followed closely behind Harry, pulling out the micro fabric fibers from the cuff of his coat. It won't ruin it. But she's very anxious, well aware of her actions she stopped when the hostess welcomed them and showed them to their table.

It was in the more private and upper level of the restaurant, it was still a five star restaurant. Hardly anymore people there other than a group of six people, and two more couples enjoying their time. It seemed very empty considering the place was huge.

Soft talking and laughing noises seemed to have fade out as the waitress handed her and Harry the menu for drinks. Well, she doesn't drink but it gave her anxiety to even ask for some cold water. She'd gotten so used to ordering everything online, without having to interact with another human being.

"I, I, I will, uhhh..." YN looked at the menu again, "ummm... I, I'll have water please."

"Okay, would you like mineral water or regular water?" The waitress asked, completely disregarding that YN was stuttering and basically sweating.

"Any, any kind would be find. Just, just cold please." She tried to smile the best she could.

The waitress got taking Harry's order, with complete changes in demeanor. It made YN feel more insecure about herself. And maybe that girl was trying to flirt with him, which went completely ignored from his side. But that didn't YN at ease what so ever.

Harry was quick with his order. Maybe the waitress just wants to get back home soon tonight. It's weekend!

Maybe she's the problem here. Yeah!

"Harry?" She called quietly, trying to gulp the lump in her throat, "I, I jist need to, need to use the restroom, I'll be back."

"Okay." He nodded.

"I, I'll leave my purse here." She left her purse with him. In her mind she was letting him know she's not going to runaway, if that ever comes to his mind.

......................................................................

Harry sat there, waiting for his girlfriend. But it's been more than five minutes she's gone. Luckily she took her phone with her. So he tried to text but she was back.

"I'm sorry." Her nose was stuffy, like she cried.

"Hey, baby what's wrong?" He reached for her hand accross the table.

"I, I'm fine." She assured him.

When it was time to order again, YN was on the verge of having a heart attack there. Harry asked for another five minutes to look through the menu.

"Baby you sure, you're alright?" He asked again, "you seem all flustered. Your face has turned all red. Want to go somewhere else, or go back home?"

"I, I just..." YN was finding it very heavy to breathe there, "I want some fresh air. I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Hey, never apologise for wanting to get out of uncomfortable situation, okay?" He assured her, "we'll wait for the waitress to come back out and tell her we don't find anything interesting to eat on the menu, then we'll leave."

"Mhmm," she nodded with teary eyes.

......................................................................

Harry unlocked the door for his girl, like a gentleman he is he stood there with the door open to the passenger seat.

"I'm sorry about that." She mumbled.

"Hey, I told you it's alright." He assured her, "you want to go somewhere else to eat? We can go through the Burger King drive thru and I can order for you."

"I'm not hungry anymore." She shared, "I'll make you something to eat back home." That's when her tummy made a noise.

"Mhmm, I can hear that." He placed a delicate kiss on her forehead, "come on, get in."

......................................................................

"Here you go, Madam." Harry handed the bag of food to YN as he drove ahead and parked in the empty parking lot. "Are you still planning to go see your parents this summer? I mean, summer there at your place?"

"Mhmm." YN nodded talking a bite off her burger, "do you want to come along?"

"You're asking me to go see your parents?" He teased her.

"I have met your family, I want you to meet mine. Please?"

He could see now that she's getting comfortable, her anxiety vanishing away. Not that her parents don't know about him, they love him in fact. It's like they've adopted him. Especially YN's mum, she has sent loads of homemade goodies especially for him, her dad approves of him. Her little sisters are best friends with him now, they sent him little handmade birthday cards on his last two birthdays.

"Okay." He shrugged. "Are you going to show me around where you grew up?"

"Of course, of course!" She got excited, "I'll take you to my school, then we'll go see my college campus and take you to the local markets."

"Sounds fun, baby." He chuckled, "can't wait to go with you."

They sat there eating their fast food dinner, dressed as fancy as fancy can get. Harry's new playlist for YN playing in soft volume in the background.

"You alright now, lovie?" He enquired, "you want to talk about earlier?"

"I, I don't know what happened honestly." She stuttered, "I, I think I got a little, I, I think I was a bit claustrophobic in there. And uhhhh... the, the waitress was making me feel a little uneasy there."

Harry knew exactly what she was talking about. She got insecure there, he's well aware that the waitress was trying to flirt with him which he didn't not pay any mind to. He can also understand where YN is coming from on this.

"I'm glad you're feeling better now." He started, "and I didn't pay her a mind darling, if that's what you're trying to say. I know she was trying to flirt and all but I had and still have my eyes for you and you only. I hope I'm not assuming anything out of line here."

"No, no, you're not." She shook her head and took in a deep breath of relief. It felt like a weight being lifted off her shoulders. "You know it felt so good to finally be able to talk my feelings out and have someone understand me!"

"What about your therapy baby? Are you going anymore?" He got confused a little.

"I'm yet to find a therapist I can really talk to. I feel so judged, which is not right, right?" She looked and sounded very frustrated.

"Mhmm it's not right." He nodded, "do you feel like you can talk to me about anything which is bothering you?"

"Mhmm." She nodded, "I do."

"Then you know you can share anything and everything with me, baby. You know I want to be there for you. Whilst I can't offer you any professional help but you can still talk your heart out to me, hopefully talking helps you. I promise, and you know I'll listen to every word you say. Until you find a therapist who works with you, you can talk it out to me, yeah? If not we'll figure something or other out." His assuring words sure made her emotional there.

"I love you so much Harry!" YN leaned over the centre console to hug him tightly. "So much!"

"I love you so much too baby!" He reciprocated with a returning hug.

N O T E :

......................................................................

Okay, I cried writing this.

I hope you liked reading this. Reviews are appreciated here, and they mean a lot to me. And pls leave a vote that helps me know that y'all are enjoying my work and I should continue.

......................................................................

Tag list:

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sirfrogsworth · 2 months

Text

Not having a good day.

Amazon is refusing to do anything about the 3rd party seller that sent a used gray market lens. (No warranty, no repair if is breaks)

All of their customer service is staffed by people who do not speak English as a first language. No matter how many times I try to explain it, the language barrier makes it very difficult for them to comprehend.

How do I explain what a gray market camera lens is?

How do I explain a complex form of fraud?

I've tried online chat.

I tried talking to them on the phone.

I tried writing a detailed email with images.

No one understands and they denied my claim.

I actually had to hang up on one person because we literally could not understand each other. She couldn't understand what I was saying. And I could only parse about every 4th word of what she said.

I have no idea how to resolve this. And I am very concerned that this seller is going to continue defrauding people.

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ilexdiapason · 10 months

Text

(part one here)

Martyn, as it turns out, only has three phone numbers memorised.

One of them is his own. The second is his mother’s, which he tries, and receives the unfortunate information that the number has been disconnected and leads nowhere.

He finally has some luck with the third, the landline phone number of his house - while nobody picks this up, either, it does connect to somewhere at least. Martyn is able to leave a voicemail explaining that he’s out of the situation he was in that meant he couldn’t come home, and that he’ll be there by tonight.

“Where’s there?” Oli asks, kind of hoping Martyn won’t need a lift to Bristol or anything out of the way like that.

“Nottingham,” Martyn replies, guarded.

Oh - that’s not so bad, then. “I can give you a lift down, if you need?”

“Aren’t you busy?”

“Oh, no.” Oli’s remote working today; as long as he keeps an eye on his emails, nobody should even notice he’s gone, and if he can always call in a family emergency if Martyn does take him up on the offer to drive. It is a family emergency, after all, it seems - just not Oli’s family.

Martyn perks up at the response, though. “Oh, I getcha. Job market, eh?” He makes a cutting motion across his throat, with noise to match.

“No, I’ve got a job! A pretty good one, actually. That’s why I can afford living on my own.”

“Ah.” A silence, and then Martyn flicks the phone back on in his hands. “Oh, god. December 2023?”

“... Yes?” Why did you not know what month it was? Or, from the sounds of it, what year?

“God, my mum’s gonna be out of her wits, that’s awful.” He flicks at the screen - then, sheepish, asks, “What’s your passcode?”

“Here, I’ll -” Oli takes it out of his hands, taps in the shape of a circle “- what d’you want?”

“Oh, I was just gonna google myself.”

Oli pulls up Google. Waits, expectantly.

“Er - Martyn Littlewood.”

And oh, jesus, yeah, that’s a missing persons case. Last seen April 2021, no wonder he was bloody worried about the year, suspect investigated but no proof identified, case well and truly cold.

Martyn must see it in his face the way he’s started, because he grimaces. “That bad?”

“About what you’d expect,” says Oli, turning the phone around to face Martyn. He snatches it, which is unexpected but honestly not out of character for the stuff he remembers from Martyn in-game.

Wait.

“Hold on - how were you getting on SMPs with us lot if you were… whatever you were?”

Martyn grimaces harder. “Long story. Difficult, too. Let’s just say there’s a lotta people who I last saw lunging for my neck, and they’re not gonna stop because I’m here.”

“Are you a wanted man? Do I need to barricade the doors, close the blinds, what?”

“Nah, nah - just keep me away from your computer.” He pauses again to consider that. “Actually. If you’re here, does that mean everyone else is too?”

“What, the other people on the server? Well, they’re not here, but I could message people if you want, say you’ve… I don’t know, turned up at Sainsbury’s?”

“I’m an ASDA man myself,” Martyn cracks, and then frowns at the screen. “So can I go on your Discord? I won’t send anything. I just want to know.”

“Erm - sure.”

He taps through, immediately lights up. “Scott!”

Ah, yeah, he had been DMing Scott this morning. Something about axolotls, if he’s not mistaken. “Yeah! He’s all the way in Brighton, though, I don’t know if I could swing that much of a lift.”

“And Bek. And Eloise, and - oh my god, I need to know what Sausage’s real name is.”

“I’ve never asked.”

“You just call him Sausage, all the time?”

“S’funny, innit?”

Martyn nods solemnly. “It is funny.”

He sits like that for a while, scrolling through Oli’s DM history, muttering names under his breath. “I mean,” says Oli, “we can add you, if you like.”

“God. Yeah, you prob’ly can. Let me try it.”

A few seconds later, and Martyn’s handing back the phone to Oli with a pending friend request to InTheLittleWood in tow. “Don’t know why you didn’t offer that before, if you’re so excited.”

“Couldn’t,” Martyn says nonchalantly.

“Right, and does that have something to do with this missing persons case of yours?”

His face falls. “Yeah, actually. Something like that.”

“Ah.”

They decide to wait until either his mum calls Oli back or Oli is officially clocked out of work to get back in the car. Until then, it seems like it’s time for Oli to get Martyn up to speed on the last… two and a half years, good lord, that’s a while…

(part three here)

#ilexworks #reverse isekai au #itlwlore #martyn itlw #oli theorionsound #pirates smp #scurvyblr #vtuber martyn

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luceracastro · 3 months

Text

Teacher’s Pet

Part 3

Esteban Kukurickza x reader

Summary: After a few months of starting your literature course you seem to find it harder with time to ignore your professor, little did you know you were driving him crazy as well.

Warnings: nothing much, some knee/thigh touching but it’s all innocent (or that’s what Esteban says🤭)

Masterlist

You felt dead and you didn’t know if dead was even a sufficient word to describe how you really felt in that moment, your head was spinning and pounding, your arms and legs were sore to even move and your back pain was unbearable

Your eyes were swollen and sleepy from the lack of sleep you had been getting as of late and the sun peeking through the crack of the curtain was no help either “carajo” you groaned rolling your body over to your night stand

Now you knew you would take up on Esteban’s offer for the after school hours lecture after putting it off for weeks, you had grabbed you phone opening the email app and you had started a new email, you had reread it and made sure it was professional enough

You had the sent him the email and as soon as you put your phone down you were out like a light.

The next morning you looked over your phone, the day before you had taken the day to take some pain killers, drink tea, sleep and relax yourself which was very much needed but now you sent Esteban a email confirming you could meet up today

He had pitched in the idea to work at a secluded coffee shop where no one really went just so you both could work privately and with no suspicions from students or nosey professors

You had to get yourself together, you smelled like coffee and your hair was a tossed mess so you hopped in the shower, you did your hair, makeup and got dressed. You gathered your stuff and left your small flat locking the door and walking downstairs, you took the bus, it was easier and there was no way in hell you would ever walk

No you didn’t have a car, your dad did try to buy you one but it would just add on to expense and you didn’t really go anywhere except school and a small market right down the street at times the library but the bus was an easy fix for all of that, you had looked through your phone until the bus came to a stop and you stepped off finding the coffee shop down a little ally

After searching up about it, it was supposedly a underground calm little coffee shop with good coffee and treats, you had entered and looked around and there he was sat down looking through his computer and you stood there for a minute looking at him, you then walked over and he looked up a soft smile appearing on his lips as he saw you “hola linda, como te sientes?” He asked and you nodded a soft sigh escaping your lips “bien, mejor, gracias por preguntar” you said

“Si como no, ven sientate aqui” he patted the spot beside him and you nodded sitting beside him, this was the first time you ever were dangerously close to him, your knee touched his and you could feel his breathing against your skin which gave you chills

The lecture was based off of theoretical framework and through the lecture he was attentive in explaining everything and making sure you understood and you both worked on some exercises together which you did great on, your insight on the lecture made him sure that you understood it

Such a smart girl, he thought “quieres ordenar algo?” He asked and you nodded “ahorita nomas ordeno un cafe” you said as you looked over something on your notes “si quieres yo te lo ordeno” he said and you shook your head “no por favor ya no quiero molestarte” you smiled “no es ninguin molestia, tu nunca vas a ser un molestia para mi” he said and you smiled a soft chuckle escaping your lips

“Bueno esta bien, gracias” you thanked him “no hay problema nena” he had gotten up and you looked down working on the last few exercises making sure your work was double checked, “ten linda” you looked up and grabbed a hold of the medium sized coffee cup “gracias” you the realized he paid for your drink, “ten para la cafe” you handed him a five dollar bill since the coffee was only 3$ you saw it on the small menu stuck to the table

He shook his head “no nena esta bien” he wouldn’t accept your money and you gave him a look “por favor, ten” you tried to give him the money and he took it to put it back inside your bag and you gave him a frustrated face which made him chuckle and you couldn’t help but smile “Esteban ten” you tried to give him the money again as you playfully whined

“No, no voy acceptar tu dinero” he shook his head and you rolled your eyes “ahora me siento mal” you said and he shook his head “no nena por que?” You gave him a look “nomas es un cafe de 3$ linda” and you chuckled “ahora tienes que dejar que yo hago algo para ti” you said and he nodded

“Bueno, vamos a comer” he said and you tilted your head, your eyes slightly widening “yo se que no has comido se te ve” he said and you sighed a small smile on your lips “entonces quieres ir a comer?” You asked and he nodded “y que quieres comer?” You asked “te gustan las hamburguesas?” He asked and you nodded “Si” he picked up both of your things

“Bueno vamos nena” he said and you stood up “ahorita?” You asked and he nodded “si, se nota que no has comido, vamos” he didn’t give you room to protest as he already made his way out of the coffee shop and all you could do was follow him

He had been kind to open the car door for you making sure you were inside completely before closing the door, you sighed watching as he went around the car and entered the drivers side “bueno, vamos”

The car ride was calming with some of the night wind seeping through the car windows which were slightly rolled down, the radio which was turned down but loud enough for background noise, “eres muy calladita” he said chuckling a little as you smiled shaking your head

“Bueno la verdad no se que es algo apropiado que puedo hablar de con mi professor” you said looking over at him only to see that his eyes were already focused on you, “lo que sea?” He said shrugging with that same damn dreamy smile on his lips “y si digo algo malo? Mejor no” you giggled “bueno miralo asi, yo te doy la libertad de hablar me como si yo fuera cualquero, ahorita no me tienes que ver como tu profe, vale?”

You looked at him as he looked at you, the moment felt intimate in a way and you could only nod “Vale” you said in a whisper almost “bueno nena, dime” you thought for a moment, what could you even tell him? Your life wasn’t too eventful besides work and school “la verdad es que yo no tengo una vida tan emocionante” you laughed

“Bueno no hay que tener una vida llena de cosas asi, te digo algo, yo casi ni sali de mi cuarto cuando era joven” he said and you chuckled “tenias que haber salido” you said not believing a word he said “no, me la pasaba haciendo tareas, escribiendo, o viendo peliculas” he said and you raised a brown”y que no tenias amigos or una novia?” He nodded “si, si tuve pero nomas hablabamos en la escuela despues de eso era como que si no nos conocieramos” he said

“De verdad?” He then nodded “y tu no tienes tus amigas?” He asked “bueno si pero siempre estoy haciendo mis tareas o trabajando que ya no salgo tanto como antes” you admitted “y novio no tienes?” You looked at him then back at the road shaking your head “no, o sea tuve pero quebramos despues de que el se fue de España” you said

“Y estas bien?” He asked and you nodded “si, si poco a poco” you sighed and felt chills at the feeling of a rough hand resting on your knee, you looked down and saw his hand just on your knee and you watched as it slowly slipped up to sit on your thigh and you looked over at him, he was normal about with a smug smile on his lips while you panicked on the inside

“Bueno aqui estoy por lo que sea” you nodded “gracias” he didn’t move his hand, it’s still there and you weren’t complaining. You both pulled up in front of a small food truck with two fold up tables set up and what not, you were distracted looking at the food truck to even notice Esteban rounding the car to open your door “gracias” you smiled at him as he nodded, you both stared at the menu which made your head hurt, you didn’t know what you wanted

“Ya sabes lo que quieres?” He asked and you looked at him “si, lo que tu ordenes” you said and he chuckled “segura?” He asked and you nodded “bueno” he had ordered for the two of you then led you to sit down, it was getting cold again and you forgot to bring a jacket only having a long sleeved top to protect you

“Tienes frio” it wasn’t a question more like a statement “no estoy bien” you said but the subtle sound of your teeth clattering and your shaking body were a dead giveaway, “mentirosa” he chuckled shrugging off his jacket and holding it for you to slip it on “Y tu?” You asked “yo voy a estar bien nena, ten” he slipped the jacket on to you and sat back down “como sabias que querias ser maestro?” You asked him “Siempre queria ser, aunque no lo crees o no se nota siempre supe que iba ser maestro” he said

“Y tu nena que quieres hacer?” He asked and you thought if you should even tell him or not “autora” you said sipping on the soda he had bought you both “eso si es algo bueno, maravilloso” he said “y yo se que lo vas a lograr, veo los papeles y los trabajos que haces y yo se que vas a ser la mejor autora” he said and it made your heart genuinely happy that he thought that highly of you

“De verdad crees eso?” You asked with a wide smile on your lips “Si como no?” He smiled “eres una buena escritora” he said “gracias, me siento muy feliz a saber que tu piensas eso” he chuckled “nena todos en el colegio sabemos que vamos a ver tu nombre en los libros mas populares en el futuro” he just knew what to say

“Aye ya me vas hacer llorar” you laughed “no no nena” he smiled placing a hand over yours, for a moment your eyes met and it was just you two for a while until the booming voice of the man working the food truck yelled your order and he stood up going to get the food then he came back and sat down, the burgers looked great

“Prueba la” you smiled holding the burger and took a bite, he watched you carefully waiting for what you have to say about the burger “esta buenisimo” you laughed and he smiled “eso esperaba” he said and you laughed as he did too before taking a bite of his burger “de verdad esta hamburguesa es la mas buena que yo habia probado”

“Que bueno nena, sabia que te iba encantar” he said popping a fry into his mouth “y entonces como eras de nene?” You wanted to know more about Esteban, what was he like? What did he enjoy? “Un niño muy differente” he said

“Y como era ese nene differente?” You asked smiling taking another bite of the burger “un niño que se la pasaba afuera jugando fútbol o en casa viendo peliculas” he said making you smile “y como se veìa ese nene?” You asked and he sighed taking out his phone with a little smile as he swiped continuously on his phone

He showed you his phone screen he looked to be a little boy in the picture but he looked like the sweetest boy ever,“aye que lindo” you giggled “hermoso de verdad” you said and he chuckled “gracias nena gracias” he then let you hold his phone as you fawned over the picture “y aver, tu como eras de nena?” He asked and you sighed “una niña que hacia libros con papel y crayolas y le encantaba las caricaturas” you said and he smiled

“Que niña linda entonces” you shook your head smiling, while eating you both continued talking about childhood and more or so his and his teen years which you doubted he had, sometimes you found it hard to believe he once was young

Once you both had finished Esteban was nice to pick up your trash as well as his to throw it out, “nomas pago y nos vamos” and you shook your head giving him some money for you meal “mi parte” you said and he shook his head “perdon nena pero no” you gave him a look “Esteban por favor” you insisted yet he made no move to get the money from your hand

“No” he said once more and you slightly frowned “por favor” he sighed getting the money but what you didn’t see was him tucking it in his pocket and paying for both your meals himself, he thanked the woman then went to get you “vamos” he said and he helped hold your bag, you walked in front of him not seeing him tuck the money you gave him back inside your bag

“Ten linda” he gave you your bag and you thanked him as he carefully closed the door for you, he had driven you home the tiredness was getting to you and you could tell he was tired too by the sound of his yawn and his sleepy eyes

Stopping in front of your apartment building which he seemed to remember you sighed “gracias, por todo de verdad” you smiled at him and he smiled too “no es nada querida, lo que sea para mi alumna favorita” he said and you chuckled nodding “bueno, gracias otra vez, tenga buen noche y con cuidado por favor” you said getting your stuff and opening the door

“Si claro, gracias nena buenas noches” he said smiling and you smiled once more before closing the door and again he didn’t leave until you fully entered the building and after that he drove off, you entered your apartment smiling like an idiot as you put your stuff down and kicked off your shoes and you noticed you still had his jacket on and you took it off and looked at the dark brownish jacket it was warm and it smelled like him even from afar

You grinned about to walk over to your room to get ready for bed but something poking out of your bag caught your eye, the money you gave Esteban to pay for your food and you sighed a smile on your lips, how did you know it was your money? The folding on the bills “carajo” you chuckled putting the money in your bag and then going to your room.

Esteban entered his apartment and kicked off his shoes putting his things down on his table, he heard meows and purrs as he felt fluff rub against his legs “hola hermosa” he cooed as he scratched his cat’s side, the black cat had purred as her tail swirled “vamos lunita” he called her over making his way to his bedroom

Luna, he named the cat which he got three years prior, he fell in love with the little cat he would occasionally feed and he noticed she lacked a collar and had no where to go so instinctively he picked her up and took her to the vet doing everything he could to take her home and have her healthy.

The next morning you had woken up early to be able to stop by a coffee shop and get a big black coffee with a muffin, you weren’t going to let Esteban off that easily, you just had to do something for him, you entered class and it was empty except you saw Esteban sitting down at his desk going over some papers “buenos dias” you said making him look up his once serious expression turned into a smile “Buenos Dias nena” you smiled putting the coffee cup and paper bag holding the muffin down

“Ya se que no usaste el dinero que te di ayer” you gave him a look with a small smile and he leaned back a smug smile on his lips as he shrugged “por eso te traigo esto y te lo vas a comer y tomar” you pointed at him and he nodded “bueno bueno nena me lo como” he gave you a smile “gracias” he took out the muffin and took a bite “esta muy bueno, ten” he ripped it in half keeping the half he bit

“Pero si lo traje para ti” you said and he gave you a look “ya se que no comiste todavia ten” you took the bread playfully rolling your eyes and taking a bite “gracias por esto nena, de verdad te lo agradezco” he said and you nodded “si de nada” you smiled down at him.

As students began to come in you moved to your seat and sat down, the last thing you needed were rumors that would get both you and Esteban in trouble.

A/n: So sorry for taking so long to update my loves!!!! I swear I didn’t want to take this long but school was kicking me in the ass lol, but I do hope you all enjoy the read and this fic<3 and if you’d like to be tagged let me know!

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but not mandatory just enjoy the story my loves 🫶🏼

Taglist: @madame-fear @theoslove @catiwinky

#lsdln cast #esteban kukuriczka #fanfic #enzo vogrincic #matias recalt #francisco romero #esteban kukuriczka x reader

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palestinegenocide · 2 days

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274 Palestinian lives don’t matter to the Biden administration

This week provided further evidence – if any were lacking — that anti-Palestinian bias is simply a rule of American politics, and today maybe the leading rule.

Yesterday Israel killed 274 Palestinians and wounded hundreds more in Gaza’s Nuseirat refugee camp while freeing four Israeli hostages, and the U.S. promptly hailed the “rescue”. It is beyond question that this was an indiscriminate massacre, but Joe Biden saluted the Israeli action, and so did Secretary of State, without a mention of Palestinian lives.

“As if we needed more proof of how little this administration values Palestinian lives,” Khaled Elgindy wrote.

Mainstream reporters are horrified, but politely. After the last outrage earlier this week, when Israel killed dozens of Palestinians in a school, a reporter asked at the State Department: “People might find it very puzzling that you have the leverage of $3.8 billion of defense supplied to the Israelis per year, and you cannot compel this situation to change.”

The State Department said the U.S. has prodded Israel, and there’s been progress. “We have seen them [the Israelis] take improvements over time.”

So the U.S. keeps pouring money and weapons into Israel, and the Democratic base believes overwhelmingly that it’s a genocide, and Biden keeps saying he wants a ceasefire, but won’t apply any pressure to achieve it.

Republicans are at least more honest about their policy. Nikki Haley—a possible running mate for Trump —visited Israel at the end of May and wrote “Finish them” on an Israeli shell. Even as the death count in Gaza crossed 36,000.

This disdain for Palestinian life is consistent throughout the American establishment. Variety reported this week that a Hollywood marketing guru warned her employees that they should hit “pause on working with any celebrity or influencer or tastemaker posting against Israel.”

In an email, Ashlee Margolis said, “Anyone saying Israel is committing a ‘genocide’ is someone we will pause on working with, as that is simply not true…. While Jews are devastated by the loss of innocent lives in Gaza, we are feeling immense fear over the rising Jew Hatred all over the world.”

So again, Palestinian lives just don’t matter, next to Jewish fears.

This special degraded status for Palestinians has become an area of study for Palestinian intellectuals. Rabea Eghbariah, a human rights lawyer and doctoral student at Harvard, wrote a lengthy legal argument for a new term for the Palestinian condition.

“The law does not possess the language that we desperately need to accurately capture the totality of the Palestinian condition. From occupation to apartheid and genocide, the most commonly applied legal concepts rely on abstraction and analogy to reveal particular facets of subordination,” Eghbariah wrote –and offered the idea of “Nakba” as a legal concept to encompass that subordination.

But Eghbariah’s argument was censored, first by the Harvard Law Review, in “an unprecedented” move against a fully-edited essay, as the Intercept reported. Then, in an even more unprecedented fashion, by the Columbia Law Review this week, whose board of directors, which includes alumni with ties to the Biden administration, actually shut down the entire website when Eghbariah’s piece went up. (In the ensuing controversy, they have now restored the site).

In the eyes of the world, Palestinians only count when they are dying. That is what Qassam Muaddi wrote at our site this week, in an essay titled, “Against a world without Palestinians.”

Over the years, learning our Palestinian history, I began to notice that in order to be acknowledged by the rest of the world, we Palestinians always had to die…. It is as if in order to exist without justification, Palestinians had to intimately deal with death — they could master it, put up the best show of it, but they always had to die.

Qassam went on to explain that all that builds Palestinian character, including culture and stories, has no place in the world as it is. It must always be dismissed as terrorism or something less than human.

He actually ends that essay with hope, that the global discourse of Palestine is finally changing.

And the next day, another 274 Palestinians were killed, with full U.S. support. And Democrats wonder why democracy is in crisis.

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st-eve-barnes · 10 months

Text

You know that I'm no good (chapter 3)

(modern Aegon x Reader, modern Sihtric x Reader)

Summary: You want Sihtric. Aegon wants Skade. There's only one small problem: Sihtric and Skade are dating each other.

This chapter: You and Aegon start operation fake dating, and you finally officially meet Sihtric.

Warning for the entire series: 18+ for explicit language and smut. Angst/comfort/fluff. Fake dating and so much mutual pining. Mentions of depression/drinking/self harm.

This is an Aegon x Reader fic with a bit of Sihtric x Reader on the side. I've wanted to write a modern AU that combines The Last Kingdom and House of the dragon for a while now so here it is!

Word count: +2700

Read Chapter 1 and Chapter 2

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

Summer may not be your favorite season but it was the best time to live in the city. There were festivals, evening markets, open air performances, food trucks, movies nights by the river and parties that went on until after sunrise. There was something to do every night and Aegon wanted to attend them all.

“Do you not have a job at all?” you texted him that Wednesday night after closing up the bookstore and walking back to your apartment.

“I’m a man of leisure,” he texted back with that sunglasses emoji, making you roll your eyes again.

“How fun for you!” you texted back and then your phone rang. It was Aegon.

“Hey, sweetie pie,” he teased,”Where are you?”

“On my way home from work, you know that thing us peasants need to actually make money and be able to afford things.”

He laughed,”Cute. Listen, there’s a party at Jace’s place tonight, we should go.”

“I have work in the morning, Aegon.”

“Then we’ll make sure not to stay too long, come on, everyone will be there, this is our shot.”

You sighed,”I have to get home and I still have a bunch of emails to get through, and then I have to cook and shower and change and…”

“I’ll buy you dinner on the way there, my treat.”

You stayed quiet for a moment. He was right, if you wanted to go for it you couldn’t keep using work and being tired as an excuse to postpone the whole thing. You had to actually go for it, and what better time than right now?

“Give me a few hours to get ready,” you answered,”Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll come pick you up around nine.”

And with that he hung up.

***

Aegon Targaryen was strolling around in your small living room admiring your book shelves. It felt strange having him up here, the only people who frequently visited your home were your parents and Helaena. You hadn’t had a guy up here in ages.

“So, I like what you’ve not done with the place,” he remarked and gave you a cheeky smile.

“I don’t like cluttered spaces,” you said as if that explained why your apartment was pretty much a blank canvas. White walls, white kitchen and nothing but a standard green couch and small coffee table in the living room, the only things that made this space your own were some books, dvd’s and a few small plants. And you liked it that way.

Your apartment was a perfect metaphor for your live, empty but filled with so many possibilities.

“No, I like it,” Aegon said and he turned around when you stepped out of the kitchen.

“Is this okay?” you asked, giving him a twirl and showing off the white summer dress you had chosen to wear.

He gave you a whistle, making you laugh.

“I thought…since you were in all white as well today we may as well coordinate, look like a real couple,” you explained.

“Good idea, you ready?”

You nodded but sighed,”I don’t know, maybe I need some more make up.”

“You don’t,” Aegon reassured you but you weren’t convinced, looking at yourself in the hallway mirror with doubt in your eyes.

Aegon was perceptive, as usual. He walked over to you and placed both hands on your shoulders, pushing you out in front of him and towards the mirror. You avoided your own reflection.“What are you doing?”

“Look,” he asked, firmly,”Look at yourself.”

You hesitantly did as he asked.

“What don’t you like?”

“Aegon,” you sighed.

“Work with me cause I’m not gonna let this go until you do and we’re already late. Look and tell me what bothers you.”

“Everything,” you sighed.

“That’s too easy,” he shook his head, not letting you off the hook that quickly,”Give me details.”

“I’m not skinny enough,” you then confessed, softly and your eyes met his in the mirror.

“That’s bullshit,” he moved his one hand down to your hip,”Don’t believe what stupid magazines and Instagram are telling you, your curves are absolutely perfect, trust me. I don’t know any guy who wouldn’t wanna tap that.”

“Um…thanks?”you gave him a confused look but couldn’t deny his words made you feel slightly better.

“What else?” he asked.

“My face,” you added.

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“I’m just…not pretty enough.”

There was no quick come back from Aegon this time, instead he just stared at you in the mirror.

“Who made you believe that, huh?” he then asked, a serious tone to his voice that surprised you.

You turned around to look at him,”Not one person in particular, just…I don’t know, I guess I’ve always felt a little insecure about the way I look compared to other girls. It comes and goes but lately…”

“You’re beautiful,” he interrupted you,”You must know that.”

You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes,”You’re kind, and you can say that but…at the end of the day you’d still prefer a girl like Skade.”

He avoided your eyes and sighed,“Now that’s not fair.”

“Maybe not but it’s the way the world works, Aegon, we both know it. It’s fine,” you reassured him.

“Will you at least believe me when I say you look beautiful?”

“No,” you shook your head,”But I thank you for saying it anyway, for trying to make me feel better, that’s really sweet. Can we go now?”

***

The party at Jace’s house was already in full swing by the time you and Aegon arrived. There was a group of people in the swimming pool while others were sitting on the grass having some drinks and there was an improvised dance floor out on the terrace.

Heleana pulled you into a hug as soon as she noticed you guys, then she gave Aegon an annoyed look and a fake smile, which he returned with an even faker smile of his own and a little theatrical wave. You couldn’t help but laugh at them both.

“Come on,” she grinned,”Let’s get you drunk.”

She pulled you with her to the bar.

“Hey, don’t steal my girlfriend for too long!” Aegon yelled after you both.

Helaena ignored him as usual and moved behind the bar to grab you both some drinks.

“You look stunning tonight, babe,” she complimented you with a smile.

“Not as stunning as you though,” you returned the compliment and accepted whatever alcoholic beverage she gave you.

“How are things with my idiot brother?” she then asked,”I gather you’re going to continue with the plan?”

She whispered those last words as if they would reveal what the big plan was, making you smile.

“Yes, we are, I’ve got nothing to lose, right?” you took a sip from your drink,”And Aegon’s kinda nice actually, he took me out for pizza before we came here.”

“Did he now?” Helaena quirked her eye brow.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing, “she shrugged,”Just…be careful with him, alright? Remember what I told you.”

“I believe your words were he’s an unreliable whore.”

Helaena couldn’t help but snicker but she nodded her head.

“I know who he is, Hel, you don’t need to worry.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt. Promise me you’re not going to fall for him.”

You had to laugh at that.“Can you give me some credit here? It’s Aegon for Gods’ sake, besides he’s not my type, my type is the one we’re doing this all for, remember? And speaking of Sihtric, is he here tonight?”

“I may have seen him by the pool earlier,” she grinned,”Looking particularly good in nothing but his tiny swim shorts.”

“Are you serious?!” your eyes widened and Helaena laughed.

“No but your face was priceless,” she teased and you hit her arm.

“He’s here though,” she then reassured you,”But he is wearing pants and a shirt, sorry to disappoint.”

“And Skade?” you asked carefully.

“Haven’t seen her yet actually, but I’m sure she’ll arrive any time now.”

You both made your way over to the garden, finding Aegon by the snack table.

“I’m off to the dance floor,” Helaena excused herself,”I’ll leave you to your boyfriend.”

You waved her goodbye and tapped Aegon on the shoulder. His face lit up when he saw it was you.

“Hey, honeybun,” he grinned.

“Are you going to call me every pet name in the book?”

“That’s the plan, you can do the same for me if you want, girlfriend.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled at him all the same. You just couldn’t help it, even when he was annoying he was kind of endearing as well.

“Wanna find a quiet spot to sit?” he suggested.

“Sure, idiot,” you joked and followed him towards the house, surprised when suddenly Aegon reached back for your hand. You placed your hand in his and allowed him to pull you with him.

When you walked up the stairs towards the patio you passed by Sihtric and Skade, explaining why Aegon had chosen to hold your hand and activate the plan.

They weren’t kissing or hugging this time and when you walked by your eyes met with Sihtric’s. It was brief but it was enough to make you feel flustered. You couldn’t stop your lips from curling up into a smile. He had never even looked your way before and now there he was, staring right into your eyes. And he looked more beautiful than ever.

Aegon chose a spot not too far away from them, making sure you were both in their line of sight.

As you sat down next to him he placed his hand on the small of your back, rubbing it softly, sitting deliberately close to you as he started talking about the latest movie he watched.

The conversation was meaningless and unimportant but he made it look like it was the most intimate chat imaginable, leaning closer to make it look like he was whispering into your ear while he explained the movie plot, then casually putting a few locks of hair behind your ear and caressing your cheek in the process.

His eyes sneaked a peak over your shoulder, a satisfied grin on his face when he noticed Skade looking back at him as well.

Aegon’s hands were making it difficult for you to focus and that warm feeling in the pit of your stomach was back. You liked how it felt when he touched you and it was confusing you a little. But this wasn’t about Aegon, it couldn’t be, you didn’t want him that way. You were just so touch starved any form of affection from a guy would probably make you feel better, it meant nothing.

When he leaned in and softly kissed your cheek you shivered.

“You alright?” Aegon checked.

“Hmm,” you nodded and then he leaned in again, nuzzling your cheek.

“Touch me,” he whispered against your skin.

You didn’t hesitate and placed your hands on his stomach while you leaned into him. Aegon wrapped both arms around you, pulling you into a soft hug. You melted into him so easily, his body warm and soft yet firm at the same time. His left hand moved into your hair, gently caressing your scalp while the other rubbed soft circles on your back. You sighed into the hug and you could feel him smile against your cheek.

He held you for what felt like forever and at the same time it didn’t feel like long enough.

You avoided his eyes when you finally leaned back, his hand still cupping your neck and then he placed a soft lingering kiss on your forehead. Your hands were still caressing his stomach and chest, you just couldn’t will yourself to stop and this time he was the one sighing happily into your touch, putting a smile on your face.

When you both leaned back it was your turn to look away and check if Sihtric had watched the whole thing. You couldn’t be sure but him and Skade seemed to be involved in their own intense conversation and neither of them looked very happy.

Aegon was looking at you out of the corner of his eye as he took a long sip from his drink. Neither of you spoke for a while and he didn’t touch you again right away.

The silence was adding to your confusion and then Aegon abruptly stood up,”I’ll go get us some more drinks.”

And with that he was gone, leaving you to sit by yourself. You waited for twenty minutes but he didn’t show and neither did those drinks. Tired of waiting you decided to head to the bar yourself, finding it empty and Aegon nowhere to be seen.

You sighed and opened the fridge behind the bar to find yourself a drink.

“Any more beers in there?”

The male voice made you look up and then your brain shut down completely.

Sihtric was standing right in front of you, a friendly smile on his beautiful face as he waited for you to answer.

It took an embarrassingly long time for you to find your words and get your mouth to function again.

“Sure,” you eventually managed and grabbed him a bottle from the fridge,”Here you go.”

Your hand was shaking a little as you gave it to him but either he didn’t notice or he chose to ignore it.

“Thanks,” he smiled,”I don’t think I’ve seen you around at these parties before?”

You had expected him to just take the beer and leave you to it but he was actually trying to start up a conversation with you and you were totally unprepared for this.

“I’ve been to a few,” you answered truthfully, trying to sound casual,”Maybe we just missed each other. I’m Y/N.”

Sihtric reached out his hand to you,”I’m Sihtric. Nice to see you, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” you shook his hand and gave him a sweet smile, trying not to focus too hard on how warm and big his hand felt around yours.

“So, you are Aegon’s girl?” he then asked.

The words sounded very surreal coming from the guy you’d been crushing on for so long but you managed to just nod your head and smile,”Yep, that’s me. You know Aegon?”

”No but Skade, my..um…girlfriend, used to know him.”

“I see,” you took a sip from your drink, not breaking eye contact with him and you noticed he did the same. He hadn’t looked away from you since you’d started talking.

He was gorgeous up close like this. And even better than that, he was actually nice.

“Maybe we should double date some time,” he then suggested, keeping his eyes on you for a little while longer until he finally looked away,”I’ll see around, lady Y/N.”

He stepped away but not before giving you a small wink and another smile.

You were frozen on the spot. Lady Y/N? Was he flirting with you? That was flirting, right? You’d been out of the game for a long time but you couldn’t remember guys just winking at you and giving you nicknames, unless they wanted to date you.

You were pulled from your haze when Aegon grabbed your hand.

“Hey, princess,” he smiled,”Sorry, I ran into some friends and got side tracked, I see you managed to get that drink.”

“Oh, I managed to get a lot more,” you laughed.

“Like what?”

“Like an invite to a double date with Skade and Sihtric.”

Aegon almost choked on his drink,”For real?”

“That’s what he said,” you shrugged.

“Oh, this is good, this is really good! Well done, baby,” he kissed your cheek again, his lips lingering a little longer than necessary, making your stomach flutter, again.

Just like last time you ignored it.

Because this wasn’t about Aegon. Whatever this thing with him was it would fade as soon as you could get closer to the real love of your life, Sihtric, not Helaena’s dumb brother Aegon, that would be completely ridiculous.

“Hey,” Aegon laced his fingers with yours and pulled you from your thoughts. Then he leaned in to put another sweet kiss on your temple. When he looked into your eyes afterwards his gaze was intense and darker than before, you couldn’t drag your eyes away from him.

For a moment it looked like he was going to lean in and kiss you for real. And for a moment you really really wanted him to, which was of course completely ridiculous.

“Come on,” he then smiled,”Let’s get you another drink, sweetheart.”

#aegon x reader #aegon x you #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #aegon smut #sihtric smut #hotd fanfic #the last kingdom fanfic #tom glynn carney fanfic #arnas fedaravicius fanfic

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