#definitely not because predicting your chances of having people in your life based off one generic zodiac website was not a smart move lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

six-eyed-samurai · 10 days

Text

Quirkless AU where Hitoshi is a street musician and reader has been with Bakugo since high school; and yes, it's based off That XX by G-Dragon. Apologies to all Bakugo fans out there for making him the villain...

I was walking down the street when I saw your man (Yeah, I saw him)

Everyone knew the dark blue-haired street musician who sat by the fountain every day and the person his eyes, outlined by black rings, would always be staring at while some song of longing and life strummed out from his guitar.

I saw that my predictions were right (I told you)

If someone were to ask why he fell in love head over hells for a complete stranger whom he knew nothing about, he’d answer in either two ways: an inability to do so or expound on a very detailed lecture on the fractured glimpses of you he’d caught over time.

Something about the way you clicked with the stray cats who rushed to your side, meowing for attention and you’d give it with no hesitation (would you play with his hair like that one day? he grew extremely flustered at the thought). A fellow cat lover, for one.

Something in that grin you’d send effortlessly to everyone and everything, in the worst of weather, at the most cranky of people, to those pretty flowers turning their head up to the sunshine like you. Everything made you so happy, it seemed. Hitoshi liked that, a stark contrast to his resentful, depressive personality.

Something along the line of how you made him feel seen. Most people just listened to him play and walk on, never bothering to show a little appreciation or acknowledgement, but you’d point him out to whoever you were with, beam at him and toss him some coins. You were the reason he got up some mornings to go there and play.

Or maybe it was simply because humans wanted what they could never have.

He took off the ring you gave him and linked his arm around someone

Hitoshi wondered if you knew him like the people who stopped by to hear him play and toss some spare change did - did you know he was even there, or was he just another struggling nameless talent to you? Did you know how he switches to those pining love songs he used to scoff at whenever he spotted you? Did you know how he's been infatuated with you since the day you threw him a smile and all the cash your wallet had, always trying to figure out a way to convey his need to get to know you through his music?

Did you know how much he wished and prayed and dreamt of being the one to be holding your hand, be able to dedicate his lyrics to you, hold you close next to him and giggle like little kids, flip coins into fountains for meaningless wishes, have you beam that brilliant grin at him like you do to the scowling blond that went almost everywhere with you?

I'll just leave it at that (I don't wanna hurt you)

Whether you knew or not, Hitoshi hadn't a clue, but everyone around him did. It was obvious from his starry eyed gaze boring into you like the celestial beings up in the sky weren’t the center of the universe but you. It was clear from the abrupt changes to the song genres whenever you would walk past his particular street. Hitoshi did a crap job at hiding how he’d glance at you (did you hear him? Were you impressed? Please, please, just stop trying to get his attention, he doesn’t treasure it like Hitoshi would) with adoration and a silent plead for approval, recognition, anything when he’d finish and passersby would clap and tip him.

The old lady sitting at the cafe opposite would quietly chuckle and recall the days of young love. The giggly gaggle of teenage girls would squeal and swoon, rooting for the both of you in the background. Even the parents of the park would smile knowingly seeing him. Between the two of you, there was a definitive, unspoken connection sparking.

But it wouldn’t work out. For as long as Bakugo Katsuki was there Shinsou Hitoshi stood no chance.

But you actually get mad at me (Why?)

He constantly puzzled over how you never noticed how Bakugo didn’t return your affections. How could not see the way his phone was more fascinating to him than you? Maybe you didn’t count the number of dates that got cancelled, but surely at some point it was too much to be considered acceptable? When would you stop interlocking your fingers with him and be sad when he didn’t even return the gesture?

What Hitoshi saw most, however, was how Bakugo would never look at you the way you looked at him. No, he only looked at you with indifference and coldness.

If you only just woke up from the daydream you were clinging onto so hard, you’d see Hitoshi’s eyes were the exact mirrors of yours: full of want and wish and just-

Why? Why not love somebody who’d love you right?

But he’d hurt you if he said anything, pointed out anything, when you oh so pathetically refused to see Bakugo how he saw you, so he said nothing.

Saying that there's no way he'd do that (Sure, you're right)

The first time he met you was about half a year ago - half a year of pining over you pining on someone who clearly didn’t love you as much as you did - when he was trying to tune his guitar and was getting annoyed with the loudmouth who was yelling too loudly into his phone for him to hear what he was doing. Frankly everyone was fed up with the shouter but for whatever reason no one told him to shut up.

Okay, Hitoshi was going to be the first.

He glanced up irritably and immediately spotted him, a spiky blond of average height and piercingly furious red eyes screeching into his phone with language vulgar and noisy enough to have every church in the world plot to wash his mouth out with lye soap. The way he was glaring at everyone as he hung up on the poor wretch gave Hitoshi a rather good idea as to why no one had told him to lower it down - not to mention the way his hand was gripping the phone so tightly.

But he digressed, focus wandering to the figure interlocking arms with the blond, embarrassedly urging him to not get so worked up in public. By the looks of it the both of you were a couple and Hitoshi vaguely felt a little sorry for you.

Especially when he heard how the blond simply brushed you off quite rudely, returning his attention to his phone with a shoulder jerk that shook off your hold.

I became aware of you being upset

So that was how he began to know you, at least at the start, as the submissive puppy of a beau that followed the man around (Bakugo Katsuki, he found out, later on when Hitoshi heard him bellowing it into the phone at some schmuck that had spelled his name wrong), always trying to enjoy the park like any other couple. Hitoshi never paid you much mind at first; to him you were just one of those delusional dream-chasers so high on their convictions of love they never noticed it was never really returned.

Then the day came when he finally watched Bakugo impatiently snap at your light question of whether you’d still be heading to that dinner place tonight. You retracted your hand slowly (he didn’t even notice, but if it was Hitoshi he’d promise to never let go of it) and hesitatingly told him you’d give him some space.

He didn’t expect you to sit by the fountain and absently, miserably play with the spray while glancing hopefully back at your lover, but when it was never returned you gave up. Hitoshi pretended not to notice, pulling at some strings to fill the awkward silence.

And I said I must have seen someone else

“Do you take requests?”

“…not really.” Hitoshi hadn’t expected you to speak either, so the words came out rather rushed and patronizing. He backtracked quickly. “I mean, not usually.”

You hummed in reply.

“But if you want I could.” Hitoshi cleared his throat and like usual his horrible, failing humor would pop up to “lighten” the situation. “Something depressing, I’m guessing?”

“Maybe? I dunno.” You tilt your head and side eye him slyly. “Don’t act dumb, I know you saw everything. You’re not exactly the sneakiest with your staring.”

Hitoshi’s ears turned a shade of red bright enough to rival his sneakers. “…sorry about that, but it’s kinda hard not to hear you guys with someone like him.”

“Katsuki’s always been like that,” you shrug listlessly.

“Why’d you stick around then?” nearly fell out of his mouth, but he swallowed it down. That was too rude, and he’d be lying if he said he’d never seen the affection in your touches and love in your eyes when you were around Bakugo. “So, what’s your request?”

You flashed that angelic, sweet smile at him and it was all over.

Yes, I'll lie for you (I'm sorry)

It started out as a small interest, a tiny crush, the mini blush forming on his cheeks when he’d see you wearing something especially good that day. He held himself back from openly expressing anything or further conversing with you though, not when you were taken and while it was obvious that Bakugo could care less about who you spoke to you yourself certainly wouldn’t look twice at any other man. Hitoshi respected the boundaries and never pushed.

Nothing stopped him from thinking about you 24/7, 365 though.

It really made him feel like a creep. He didn’t even know your name. Or your job. Or your hobbies. Or your interests. Or anything really. All he knew was gathered off staring and hoping you’d look his way (he celebrated internally whenever you did, but it was poorly disguised to other onlookers) every other day and that just intensified his belief he was being a stalker and that made him even more unlikeable. Even the sorry excuse of a boyfriend was the better choice here.

He knew what music you liked though, when you told him the tune you requested came from one of your favorite bands, when he’d observe you brighten when he played a specific genre, when you’d tip him a little extra with something in your eyes that said you were relating very hard to that depressive song of being left behind all too well.

Hitoshi wondered if you knew his too.

Oh, I hate you for not knowing me

Maybe the time when the crush really transformed into a full-blown desire happened about a few months back. He was strolling out of a nearby cafe, guitar strapped to his back and coffee in hand, bending down to pet the fluffy black kitten that had started following him around and of course his morning just had to be ruined when yours was.

You were seated by the window, picking at the cake in front of you while you anxiously glanced out and about, so obviously stood up in the way you were practically begging your phone for a notification (why did you chase after a man who would never appreciate you like Hitoshi?). He paused ins his tracks, wondering whether to go over, talk once more, provide comfort (for you he’d try, although his bedside manner was rather lacking), but just then the bell rang violently, harbinger to Bakugo.

I hate this waiting

Hitoshi turned away in disappointment, content to let you slip away once more until he heard the rushed apologies that didn’t sound as sincere as they should be, the broken, belated assurances of rescheduling your date to another time - for now he had somewhere to be and people to meet. He sees Bakugo leave and he decides, you know what? Fxxk it, it’s his turn.

You look up from wallowing in your misery to see a familiar hand slam down a coffee cup on your table. You look up, but whoever they were had already rushing out the door with an equally familiar guitar on their back. A soft laugh escaped you as you see the sticky note hastily stuck on the cup.

Smile, don’t want your face as bitter as the coffee.

Something long lost and forgotten stirs up in you, new butterflies hatching out of their cocoons and old ones waking from their long sleep as you turn the cup to see a name probably written by the barista during the order.

Shinsou. So that was his name.

Please let go of his hand now

Thinking that was that, Hitoshi let himself exhale and his wingman the cat purred, rubbing itself on his legs as if congratulating him for making a move. What was wrong with him, acting like some silly schoolboy mooning over a new student. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked off to his usual perch in the park.

Over the next week Hitoshi continued to see you at the park and the war raging in his head tearing at his heart went on: did you appreciate the drink? Did he accidentally order something you didn’t like? What if you didn’t like him doing this while with Bakugo?

Maybe he was wrong about the last one, for you had started to wave at him. He thought once again that was that, but once again you surprised him when you showed up one day and held out your hand and a breathless “For you”.

When you are sad, I feel like I could die, baby

He blinked and looked down. A guitar pick, blue and purple with a black cat and his name, Shinsou. “Um…what?”

“It’s for you. I mean, you don’t have to take it, I just wanted to thank you for the drink that day, and I noticed you’ve started to play with your fingers instead and that much be painful, so I had a friend who did this sort of customization! And your name was written on the cup, I promise I didn’t stalk it out or whatever, the cat was just because I noticed you petting the stray-”

He cut off your rambling with a brief, genuine smile of his own. “Thanks. I like it a lot.”

(Hitoshi would like anything that came from you, honestly.)

Not a friendship yet, but just a special kind of acquaintance. He’d take it. It was progress, at least.

What does that bastard have that I don't?

Hitoshi had no idea real progress would be coming so soon though.

He’d been trying out a new song that had been trending on social media lately and so far it was bringing him a little extra. The coffee shop had finally brought back his favorite drink and he had finally convinced his dad Aizawa to let him officially adopt the little black kitten, although he and Eri were still arguing over the name. All in all, it was a good day.

But as always if it was a bad day for you, it was a bad day for him.

He spotted you and Bakugo almost immediately as you two came to the park like he did every time, and while it wasn’t uncommon for Bakugo to be frowning it wasn’t normal for you to be. You looked awful, blinking back tears while Bakugo crushed your spirit bit by bit with his blunt words. Hitoshi didn’t mean to listen, he swears, but he couldn’t help it.

Why can't I have you, exactly?

“I just don’t get it, why? Did I do something wrong? I - I know I’m not the best, Katsuki, but if anything - I mean - we’ve been together for so long, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I did really love you at first, but I guess over the years I realized we’re not really suited for each other. You’ll find someone more suited for you and I’ll find someone better for me. This is goodbye.”

“…alright. I’m sorry - I’m sorry we didn’t work out.”

“Me too, but that’s just how things are.”

The song finished and Hitoshi had no heart to continue something anything cheerful anymore, not when Bakugo walked off and you plopped down on a nearby bench to bury your face behind your hands as your shoulders shook. Every part of him strained to go and reach out to you, go get angry at Bakugo for you, tell you everything he’s been wanting to say this past months.

That bastard doesn't love you

But how? What was he even supposed to say? Ask how could you have not seen this coming and saved yourself some heartbreak? Comfort and act sad for you when inside he was simmering with joy and delight that this was his chance, his one and only god damned chance?

Tell you with every day Bakugo fell out of love with you, he fell deeper?

Yet that would just hurt you to know that your pitiful devotion to Bakugo being never returned was apparent to everyone around you, so he said nothing.

…he didn't really have to say anything now, did he? There was another way.

Until when are you going to cry like a fool?

The sudden change of song and strumming startled you enough to look his way with wide eyes.

“Expensive cars, pretty clothes, classy restaurants, they suit you well; but that bastard next to you really isn't it. He smiles falsely next to you, he touches your cheeks and hair - but inside, he is definitely thinking of some other girl.” The words flew out easily, without him really thinking. Sure, it wasn’t the exact truth, but he knew this was the one opportunity he was going to get to tell you how he felt all this time watching Bakugo break you down bit by bit with his vanishing “love”. “How could he do that? It's like a sin. As much as you shed tears, I'll treat you better, baby. The pain you handle by yourself, will you share some with me, baby? Please look at me, why don't you know that your love is me? Why are you the only one who doesn't know?”

The worst thing a musician could hear is silence. Hitoshi stared at the ground, heart thundering away at the lack of response. Did you understand? Did you finally understand who really was the one to eternally be in love with you all this while? Did you know how he was so tired of seeing you being treated like that when he knew you deserved better?

“That's a sad song you're singing.”

Hitoshi nearly fainted right there - thank god he didn't fall into the fountain - as you suddenly appeared to sit down and scoot next to him to smile, slightly dimmed by watery eyes (he'd wipe them away, he'd never make you feel that way, if only you'd choose him). “Sad song for a sad someone from a sad boy.”

Something changed right there and he saw it in your eyes. You used to smile at him so brightly but that spark in your eyes were always directed at Bakugo - now they caught alight at him and he knew, he knew, he knew you finally knew too.

You reach over to rifle through the music sheets on his stand, smile a little more genuine this time. “Well…sad someone wants a happier song now and wants sad boy to duet together.”

Everyone knew the dark blue-haired street musician who sat by the fountain from that day on and the center of his affections his eyes, outlined by black rings, would always be staring at adoringly next to him while some song of a slow burn kind of love strummed out from his guitar.

#sanzuyaps #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsou x y/n #shinsou x y/n #hitoshi shinsou x you #shinsou x you #mha x you #quirkless au #mha x reader au #mha x reader #mha x y/n #hitoshi shinsou #Spotify

9 notes · View notes

happilysmythe · 2 months

Text

❥ 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪

matt poitras.

word count: 3.0k

no warnings

"if you'll have me, i want you" — stephen sanchez

A/N: this fic was anonymously requested! thank you so much! i love mattyp and i was super excited because i got to rewrite an old fic that i wrote about him that i hated...happy reading!

- - -

MATT

“Congrats on the goal, Beech.”

I wrapped an arm around Johnny’s shoulder, giving him a brief pat on the back as I made my way to my stall.

“Thanks, Pots,” he chuckled. “I thought it was a pretty good shot, too. Definitely one of my better goals, anyway.”

“Given that I haven’t exactly seen your other ones, I’ll just have to take your word for it,” I laughed, stepping past him to sit down. I removed my jersey and hung it up, then lifted my padding from my shoulders and above my head. “Doesn’t it feel, like, really good?”

“Feels awesome,” he confirmed with a smile. “I feel like I’ve had so many missed scoring chances. Felt great to actually capitalize on one, y’know?”

“I know. I still can’t believe you missed that shot a few weeks ago,” I nudged his shoulder. “It was practically an open net, dude.”

“I know, I know. But hey, I made up for it, right?”

“Sure did.”

I leaned over and untied my skates, then pulled them off and stowed them away. It wasn’t long before the padding on my knees was on the seat beside me. As I stood up to pack everything away, a familiar face came into view. I extended my hand out to pat his shoulder.

“Congrats, man.”

“Thanks,” Mason smiled, then continued forward.

I picked up the skates and covered the blades, then stored them in my bag, afterward grabbing a towel to wipe my face and hair. Johnny turned to face me again as he removed the laces from his skates.

“You talked to Emery at all?”

Emery.

I met her back in 9th grade. We had a few classes together. A lot of people told us that our friendship seemed to come out of nowhere, but we always used to say it was because of how fast we clicked. We got close fast.

She was always my biggest fan, through and through. Especially when nobody else seemed to be. Through each year of high school, she stuck by my side even when she wasn’t obligated to, and I was always grateful for that. She never doubted me. She was, in complete honesty, one of the reasons I became the player I turned out to be.

When I got drafted, she was over the moon. She even baked a cake that said Future NHL Bruin on it, which I was later told that she decorated herself. Told me she had to teach herself, which resulted in three failed cakes and almost an entire day lost. The thing is, I never could’ve predicted just how soon I’d be playing in the NHL when I was initially drafted.

I’ve missed her.

Leaving was the hardest part. Because I would now be based in Boston, I knew that saying goodbye to her would be difficult to do. Though it wasn’t going to be forever, it would be a long time before I could visit home to see her again. I would be moving countries and completely uprooting my life for a larger chunk of time than I would’ve liked to think about. Even in the times that I was able to visit home, it was never for long. At least, not long enough.

I lived in a hotel for the beginning of the season, but the Bruins recently made the decision to keep me, so they worked out somewhere for me to stay long-term. That’s when Johnny and I began living together in the North End in Boston. The day that Don Sweeney called me in to tell me that I’d be staying lifted a massive weight off of my shoulders; one that I’d been carrying since the pre-season. Although I’d been kept, it didn’t mean that I wasn’t still trying to make the team.

I remember receiving a text from Emery that day.

hey, matty. i heard you’re staying with the bruins! that’s great. i’m so happy for you. i hope you can visit home soon so i can see you. i miss you.

I’ve kept it in the back of my mind, since. And it wasn’t just because I missed my friend.

It was because I’d grown to feel for her in more ways than one. We started off platonically, but it wasn’t long before I began to notice myself admiring her, feeling comforted by her presence…how, no matter the case, I seemed to always be happy with her. Not to mention the growing urge to kiss her whenever I got as little as a few inches away from her.

So, as anyone could imagine, leaving her was one of the hardest things I had to do.

“Uh, no,” I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts as I turned to face Johnny. “No, I haven’t talked to her.”

Having taken the hint, he nodded and faced forward again, then silently continued to undress.

- - -

EMERY

The simple term “miss” was nothing but an understatement.

I first felt disconnected from Matt when he started playing for the Guelph Storm. Although I saw him less, he was still based close to home, so I couldn’t complain all that much. But this?

This was ten times worse.

Though I refused to let anyone see it, I was hurting. I knew he was happy—I would never and could never take that away from him. And on top of that, I was beyond proud of him, regardless of how disappointed I might have felt. All I’ve ever wanted for him is for him to be successful in doing what he loves, and since he was doing just that, all I could be was happy.

Still, it didn’t eradicate the pain.

As I sat on my couch, I pulled out my phone, deciding to open and scroll through Twitter mindlessly in the quiet of my living room. Since I’ve ironically loved hockey my whole life, my timeline was filled with it. Notably that night, someone reposted a video from a game that landed about 2 months ago.

Matt’s first NHL goal.

He looked so happy. God, he was. The short clip pushed the memory of him calling me that night to the front of my mind, bringing a disheartened smile to my face as I watched it replay on my screen. I only wished that I didn’t have to see him through a screen as much as I now did, to receive a hug from him just to hold me over. But I couldn’t.

I placed my phone on the couch next to me as I laid back on the cushions, then looked out into the darkness of my living room. My eyes fixated on the entryway as my mind retraced the day that he showed up at my door before he left.

I shot up from the couch as the knock sounded at my door--the noise I’d been anticipating worriedly all day. As the door swung open Matthew came into view, his expression devoid of happiness.

“Hi,” he spoke, lips slightly downturned.

“Hi, Matty.” Stepping away, I motioned my head off to the side. “Come in.”

He walked in and I carefully shut the door, then turned to face my saddened best friend behind me. “I don’t have much time.”

“I know, Matt…I know.” I tightened my lips into a flat line, swallowing the lump that formed before sighing deeply. “How long will you be gone for…?”

“I don’t know. Could be weeks, could be months…Honestly, Em, I really don’t,” he spoke once again, a frown contorting his lips. “I can only say that it’ll be a while.”

A silent nod was all I could muster up, words deciding not to come as easily to me as normal. I sniffed, trying my best to stay strong in what could’ve been the last time I’d see him for the unforeseeable future. If I started to cry, even just slightly, I knew that I wouldn’t stop. So I kept it in, deciding to hold it for just a little while longer until he was gone. “How long until you have to leave?”

“A few minutes, max,” he shrugged. “I just had to say goodbye.”

Unsure of how long it would be until I could do it again, I took a step forward and threw my arms around him, draping them over his shoulders as I pulled him in tightly. He responded instantly, wrapping his around my midsection to do the same.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” I breathed, words muffled by his shoulder.

Though my body tried its best to resist, a tear shed, sliding down my cheek and onto the fabric of his shirt. It was bound to happen considering how long I’d been holding it. Keeping it bottled in no longer seemed to be an option. The person that made me happiest was leaving—it wasn’t surprising that I let myself go.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Matt.”

“It’s okay,” he reassured me softly. “But I have to go.”

“I know,” I croaked out, pulling away. “I know.”

I sniffed, then let out a shaky breath as I fronted a weak smile. I used the back of my hand to wipe the few tears that had fallen against my wishes, then took another breath in an attempt to steady myself momentarily.

“I’m going to call you, and I’m going to text you,” he spoke sincerely, gaze aligning with mine, “and I’m going to make sure that we stay in touch, okay?”

“Okay,” I repeated back to him. “Goodbye, Matt. I’ll miss—”

“Don’t,” he shook his head, hands moving down to take mine and hold them tightly for just a moment. “I’ll see you soon.”

With one final squeeze of my hands, he stepped back and let go, then started for the door. He opened it slowly and stopped for a moment, looking over his shoulder, just enough to see me. He remained silent, displaying a soft expression on his face; a look laced with affection and sadness, but one that brought me as little as an ounce of comfort knowing that he felt the same as I did.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he whispered, then turned back and walked out, closing the door behind him.

And finally, I broke down.

The same sensation of tears staining my cheeks returned as I snapped back into the present, wiping my cheeks dry with my sleeve before picking up my phone once more. Before I could stop myself, I opened my messages and scrolled down to Matthew’s contact, opening it up and reading over the last message that he’d sent to me. It was at the end of a conversation from the day after he was chosen to stay with the team.

I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon. I miss you

I left the app open, silently holding my phone in front of my face as I continued to read the text over again. I’ll talk to you soon, he said. It’s been almost two months since that day. How far away do you have to stretch from a day to pass soon?

I miss you.

I decided to head off to bed, standing up and making my way to my bedroom. I climbed into bed, then turned on my side and focused my attention on the clock that sat atop the bedside table in front of me. 11 o’clock.

In an attempt to fall asleep, I closed my eyes, but it didn’t work out as I had planned. Something within me was uneasy. I wanted to talk to him.

So I reached over and grabbed my phone, then searched for his contact and called him. It rang once, twice, three times…a few more before the inevitable voicemail played. Dejectedly, I hung up, placing my phone back down in its spot and silently staring at the time once more. For the first time in weeks, I struggled to blink back my tears.

I missed hearing him talk, seeing him. I missed his voice, his smile, his laugh. His corny little jokes that nobody would laugh at and how easily he’d get shy in public. I missed how his hair would blow around when he skated. I missed the way I could talk to him about anything—how he’d listen, comfort me, hold me when I was upset…I missed everything. Every last bit of it.

Because he wasn’t just my best friend; he’d become so much more to me than that. If only I had realized it sooner. Before he left so that I had the chance to tell him. But I didn’t.

So I closed my eyes, a tear softly running down my cheek as I slowly began to drift off.

- - -

When I woke up the next morning, a voicemail had been left for me. Matt called me after I’d already gone to sleep. I took a breath, then reluctantly pressed play.

“Hey, Em. You called before but the game wasn’t over yet. I know it’s too late there now and you’re probably asleep, so I’ll talk to you soon. Miss you.”

As relieving as it was to hear his voice again, the hurt that I felt didn’t subside. Tears pricked at my eyes again as I replayed the voicemail, now clinging on to that silver of communication I had with him.

But it wasn’t enough.

I’d come to realize that the problem wasn’t that we weren’t talking as much—I, as well as he, was prepared for that aspect. The problem was that, regardless of how hard we tried, we simply couldn’t find the time for each other anymore.

That’s what terrified me the most. My relationship with him was slowly fading away, and there weren’t many options left.

- - -

MATT

Another day, another game finished.

Tonight, we played in Toronto. As far as I’ve learned, it’s become common for us to beat them, which admittedly uplifted my mood after we won.

We were close to home, but we wouldn’t be spending enough time there to be able to stray off. Unfortunately, that ruled out any chances of my being able to visit my family or Emery. Aside from that, I was exhausted, so the only place I wanted to be was in bed.

As I took my equipment off, some of the guys did their media, and the locker room slowly began to clear out. Just as I was about to head out, Mason tapped me on the shoulder, prompting my head to turn and shift my attention to him.

“What’s up?”

“They told me to tell you to go next door,” he spoke, head jerking in the direction of the conference room next to us. “Said someone’s waiting for ya.”

“Oh, thanks, man.”

He nodded and walked by as I placed my bag back down in front of my stall, then headed out and towards the room he mentioned. I knocked softly, but there was no response. Although it remained silent, I cracked the door open anyway, deciding to step in and make a check just in case before going back.

When I rounded the corner, I was brought to a halt as my eyes caught sight of the person waiting for me.

Emery.

“Oh, my God.”

My feet carried me toward her, and before I knew it my arms were around her, pulling her in closer. The familiar scent of her perfume clouded my senses, bringing a sense of comfort that I’d been lacking for longer than I would’ve admitted. Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them back, not paying them much mind as she finally pulled away to look up at me.

“Hi, Matty,” she smiled brightly.

“What…what are you doing here? I thought—”

“Your parents got me some help,” she laughed. “And your coach…He’s real nice, by the way.”

I laughed back in response, eyes trailing down to the jersey that she was wearing. When she noticed, her body turned to the side, revealing the numbers on her arms.

51.

“Oh, you didn’t,” I marveled, lips parting in a smile as my thumb ran across the lettering on her arm.

“Of course, I did,” she confirmed, turning back forward. “I had to.”

“God, I could kiss you right now,” the words slipped out before I could think, and my eyes widened slightly at the realization.

“Then do it.”

So before I could second guess it, I leaned down and kissed her, wrapping my arms around her waist and holding her gently against me. She reciprocated, smiling softly as her arms found their place around my neck. My lips matched her smile as one hand rose up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

She raised to her toes, tilting her head slightly to deepen the kiss before slowly pulling away, looking up with a soft expression. “Matt,” she whispered, eyes beginning to become glassy.

“Hm?” I hummed, reaching for her hand and thumbing the soft skin on the back of it.

“I should’ve just told you before, but I,” she breathed, brows knit together tightly. She took a pause as if she were contemplating whether to continue or not, but ultimately opened her mouth to speak softly again.

“I love you, Matt.”

The initial shock forced my eyebrows to raise, my lips parting as I took her words in. But didn’t take long to wear off before I was smiling down at her just as I was before, basking in the relief that I felt. I knew now that there was more than enough reason to try things with her, just as I’d wanted to do before leaving. If she felt the same, then what was the use in denying it further?

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment to savor the scent again before pulling back.

“I love you, too.”

Her arms were thrown around me once more in response and I hugged her back, resting my chin on her forehead, hand rubbing circles on her back. “We’re not losing touch again this time, okay?” I reassured her softly. “We’ll make it work.”

I swallowed thickly and swayed back and forth gently, bringing her along with the slow movements. “I’m not letting that happen again. Ever.”

“Okay,” she nodded, a faint laughter falling from her lips before she pulled away and aligned her gaze with mine. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

#boston bruins #hockey #fanfic #boston bruins imagine #hockey fic #matt poitras #matt poitras imagine #matt poitras fic #matthew poitras

8 notes · View notes

xianjaneway · 7 months

Text

LOTR was as good as it was through all 3 movies, because they were all made together, back-to-back. There wasn't a chance to gauge audience reaction, or studio reaction. No one was thinking, "How can we milk the fans for even more money or merchandise?"

However, no one argues that The Hobbit movies are in the same league as LOTR. There are a ton of reasons for this, but one of them definitely was, "We know fans will shell out money for anything that has Tolkien's name on it."

Look at Iron Man 2. Look at Star Trek TMP. (Made immediately after the success of the first Star Wars.) Look at Sherlock seasons 3 & 4. Look at the Batman movie that came immediately after The Dark Knight.

Hell, Spiderman 2 is considered one of the most successful movie sequels ever, & afterwards? We got Spiderman 3.

Look at any sequel to anything that was an unexpected, overwhelming, success.

Movie & publishing executives see these returns, & start looking for a way to make it grow even bigger.

This also means, they look at the expectations of a fanbase, & try to predict, "Which reactions are going to cost us the most money?"

And of course, this includes Our Flag Means Death.

Do you think, even for a second, the writers & execs had no clue how DIVIDED the fan base was about Izzy? Alex Sherman exists, people!

Imagine the fan response if they'd given Izzy Hands a happy ending!

"How dare they find a way to redeem Ed's abuser? Fuck Max & all their patriarchal bullshit."

I guarantee you, they thought killing Izzy off, AFTER a redemption arc, was the LEAST RISKY stance they could take w/this fan base. "How could we be burying our gays with one death, when everyone is gay, & everyone ELSE gets a happy ending?"

So, while this choice stinks of corporate decision-making, the real villains here are actually the Izzy haters. They decided that their opinions were the only ones that mattered, & attacked anyone who disagreed. They made a decision to stir up so much controversy that the people who were poised to lose actual money over a divided fanbase took note. They're the reason that OFMD 2 got a, "Bury your heartbroken, disabled, gay, just as he's starting to enjoy his life," ending.

Just like Ed, you followed your base emotions, without stopping to consider the consequences of your actions. Now, the rest of us have to live with those consequences.

#ofmd 2 #our flag means death #ofmd

6 notes · View notes

sayeedaqsa · 1 year

Text

Lung cancer: what, why, how's of the treatment

What is lung cancer?

When the cells in the body start growing beyond control, it takes a form of the disease known as cancer. When this disease occurs in the lungs, then it is termed as lung cancer. The cancer spreads all over the lymph nodes, and in some instances, it might apply to various parts of the body. It is also possible that cancer can reach your lungs from other organs. And when the disease starts spreading to multiple organs, it is called metastases.

Whether or not lung cancer is ever curable remains a hard question to answer at a simple enough level. And while there is always a possibility (sometimes quite a small one) that cancer may return even after it's been in remission for several years, it is still unclear why it would reoccur though. The problem with determining whether or not cancer will return is that the answer is inevitably relative. This is because the symptoms of a particular cancer are unique from person to person. It is impossible to predict what cancer will look like or feel like based solely on a patient's medical history.

Types of Lung Cancer

Non-small cell and small cell lung cancer are two types of primary lung cancers. The name is derived from how to do the cells of cancer look under the microscope. In comparison, non-small cell lung cancer is more common. To determine the type of cancer, the doctor will conduct a test to look for any genetic mutation (change in genes). Based on the test results, the right treatment is then decided. Once it has been established that a person has cancer, various other tests determine what all organs have been affected. This whole process is known as staging.

Types of Treatment

Getting a definite answer as to whether or not cancer will return, is, to have a good understanding of what causes this cancer in the first place. There are several different theories on the exact cause, but none offers a guarantee as to the treatment of lung cancer, whether it has long-term survival potential or not. Many other theories provide therapy of sorts, that may lengthen when cancer cells arrive in the body, and when treatment is necessary to kill them off. Any delay can make treatments more harmful than helpful since they increase the chances of cancer returning while decreasing the likelihood of medicine being useful in the first place.

Some of the treatment options that are most often employed in the fight against lung cancer include surgery, radiation therapy, chemotherapy, immunotherapy, and biological therapy. While many people choose to use all or some of these methods, each treatment's effectiveness can vary, as can the overall outlook on life after treatment. When considering lung cancer treatment with a good chance of returning, it is also essential to think about what the cancer reoccurrence would mean in terms of how long treatment would be necessary. Since the cancer cells are still present in the body at the same stage, the amount of therapy typically recommended by physicians would involve treating the cancer cells and helping any other tissues affected by the cancer cells.

Surgery – In this operation, the doctor cuts off the cancer tissue.

Chemotherapy – This is the method used to kill shrinking cancer with the help of particular medicines. These medicines can either be given in the form of pills or directly into your veins.

Radiation therapy – The process of eliminating cancer with the help of high-energy rays.

Targeted therapy – The growth and spread of the cancer cells are blocked with the help of certain drugs, and the process of giving them is the same – either given in the form of pills or directly supplied into your body via veins.

Chemotherapy is often used as the primary treatment of choice for patients who have already had some success in getting rid of the cancer cells in the body. It involves taking medication that is designed to help lessen the effects of chemotherapy. Sometimes, doctors will use targeted therapy to help with the symptoms of the treatment. This type of treatment can come from medication, surgery, radiation therapy, breathing and drug therapies, and immune system stimulation.

Chemotherapy can be costly, mainly if done to treat more than one type of cancer. Chemotherapy drugs carry a wide range of possible side effect. Some of these side effects include nausea, weight gain, hair loss, and fatigue. Besides, these some patients may also experience depression. While these side effects are not expected to last indefinitely, they are worth mentioning.

Side effects caused by drugs are only one problem faced by patients undergoing treatment. There can also be a risk of developing an addiction to certain medications. If this happens, the medicine that is being taken will need to be reduced or stopped altogether. As an alternative to this, some medical oncologists will prescribe a combination of medications that can help relieve symptoms and monitor and change the dosage if needed. Again, this combination will only be useful if the medical oncologist can keep a close eye on the patient's medical history.

This combination of drugs is often referred to as a 'first-line treatment'. The mixture usually follows a successful treatment of the lung tumour itself. If the lung tumour is benign (no cancerous cells are present in the lung tumour), it is improbable that other treatment will be necessary. However, if the tumor is malignant, a combination will likely be required. This means that the doctor will try various combinations until he finds one that works.

Because combining several different medications can be very complicated, many doctors choose to assign patients to just one type of therapy. Doctors sometimes decide to give three to four patients to receive immunotherapy. This treatment method means that the doctors do not have to research to discover which combination will work best. For some patients, this can be very helpful because they do not want to undergo too many drug interactions. Unfortunately, some doctors do not prefer this method because patients may become too dependent on receiving these particular medications.

Finding the right treatment

It is quite hard to determine which treatment is right for you. To find out about the various options for treatment, consult with your cancer doctor. He or she will be able to tell more about the stage and type of your cancer. Furthermore, you will be able to learn more about the benefits and risks of all the treatments along with their side effects (if any).

Lung cancer: what, why, how's of the treatment

HealthTrip - #1 Health Travel & Tour Advisors | Medical Tourism in India

Experience the best health trip with a top medical travel company in India. Find the best hospitals, and doctors for medical treatment in India. Best Medical Tourism in India.

1 note · View note

scrumptioussonglove · 1 year

Text

Trial And Error + Persistence = Successful Marketing

These 4 marketing myths can cause you to lose sales if you base your marketing decisions on them. But the related marketing tips I included with each myth will boost your sales content articles act on them instead.

youtube

As a webmaster, protecting yourself from link cheating is very time consuming and cumbersome. Of course, you'll be able to 4D Slot check every site you linked to and determine whether your link has been added for that site. This is very time consuming, even with a "link checker" tool, and could not find your link even the hho booster is in that respect there! Or, if do not need find website link you can follow plan a polite email. And, if the carpeting get a result within full week or two, you can remove their link originating from a website. Unfortunately, by then you've been promoting the other site(s) to have month or higher and getting zero frequently. Link cheating.

For example, if you've dreams of becoming healthy and wealthy likewise associates are overweight smokers that complain about working one-minute overtime, then I will predict chances of you being healthy and wealthy is slim to no. Millions of people never attain their dreams, because their "friends" function as "cement shoes" as they walk towards their goals in the life. As I set my goals, I surround myself with those who are stored on the same path in life that I'm on. An individual truly internalize this same mindset, definitely achieve your goals in everyday.

Don't be fooled thinking telling fibs will impress that significant other enough to obtain relationship tookthe first step. it will turn them off! Be your best house.

Unless are generally knowledgeable on the subject, may good idea to select an engraver before purchase your thing. The engraver can advise you before buy as from to obtain and whether they would be ready to deliver the results. They may have the ability to refer for you to a reputable dealer you could potentially trust, or talk towards the dealer you desire to ensure that the resulting method is Click to find out more as you expect it become.

As a Canadian registrant, one way you might legally avoid this silly March Hare is to explicitly state on web site and invoice that utilization of such intangible personal property in Canada is prohibited (or requires an additional fee as well as the payment of G.S.T.).

In conclusion: Depending personal level of skin sensitivity or pain toleration, texture of hair and rate of hair growth, waxing hair removal may perceived as viable selection for you. Check out the links in the resource box for suggestions on the right way to make the outcome last longer and to confirm out a fine supplier for only a huge selection of the latest waxing offerings.

#marketing online #hair removal sugaring #Youtube

0 notes

justtryingtoliveright · 2 years

Text

Wednesday 17th August 2022

Dear Blog,

Today was a generally okay day. It wasn’t good but wasn’t bad. Parts of the day felt entirely numb, and I had no feeling at all. To be honest I think that those times were the most difficult as when your mind is blank, it’s entirely unfocussed, which made work difficult and I felt like I was constantly forgetting to do things or I’d be in the middle of something and the blankness made it all confusing. It gets more and more like that these days, whether it’s just me being strange or whether I’m just exhausted. Both would make perfect sense.

Work was good today. I think it helps take my mind off things, I really enjoy it!! If I could get paid for something like that I think I’d have a great time, although that is definitely not in my future plans. Work was absolutely manic from the second I walked through the door. There must have been 3 volunteers in there for the morning shift who were finishing up, plus the managers. They were incredibly busy, everyone doing different jobs. They then got me doing sorting, which is something I’ve never really done and did an awful job at it. I didn’t even get to finish before I was set back to the tills, which was a relief. I was by myself on the tills in the afternoon, which I think I prefer to be honest. When there’s more than one person on it feels like there’s nothing to do sometimes. I did a lot of reorganising, which I also really enjoy, especially when I get to colour coordinate stuff!! I did a lot of restocking and generally had so much fun at work. The assistant manager also told me that I’m a pleasure to work with and always engaged and like to be busy. That was the confidence boost I needed.

The one real bother for today is results day. I get my A level results tomorrow and know for a fact that I’ve really messed up. My predictions for tomorrow:

Biology: B

Chemistry: E

Maths: C

Further Maths: U

I’ve been incredibly stressed about that today and its made me feel so incredibly sick. A levels generally went so badly and I do feel very let down in many ways.

I don’t agree with exams generally for many reason. Firstly, how can you base a qualification off a set off exam questions based off purely knowledge recall? This counts for all subjects. Even if you have to analyse parts and expand your knowledge to answer the question it always required knowledge recall and if you struggle with that, or stress affects it (which is my case), then exams feel like an impossible feat. Secondly, if you had a bad day, had a lot going on in your personal life or any other possible problem, your exams can be badly affected and in that case, that’s your chance at a good grade completely obliterated. On the same kind of lines, if the person marking your exam has had a particularly bad day, their marking may be more critical, and may not give you marks where you could argue that you’d deserve them.

One more argument I will make is that exam conditions are not always the ideal conditions for some people to work. I find myself in this category. For me, I find full silence more stressful to work in than slightly noisy condition. It’s something that has only affected me for 2 years now but I have a problem that exam conditions silence is never silence. In exams although there isn’t talking to be a distraction the lack of causes me to be fully immersed and distracted by every other sound in the room. There’s been times in our mocks where because the clock was ticking (thankfully they used ones that don’t tick for the real exams), I spent 10+ minutes not able to focus because I couldn’t erase the ticking from my mind. Exam season is also hay fever season so that was something else that was a distraction for me. I will also point out, of course they can’t help suffering with it, it’s just unfortunate that my brain focuses on each sound s it does when I’m in silent conditions. Having it makes me feel guilty because it cannot be helped but I struggle.

Other reasons I feel let down: covid has really messed up our A level years. These exams were the first formal exams a lot of our year sat since year 6 (not including mocks as they’re different in a way). Also the fact that we were behind in the first place by not doing GCSEs, exacerbated by the fact that learning was messy, some was remote (which doesn’t work for a lot of people), and some was even spent in lockdowns. With all of that they’re still using out year to try and lower the grade boundaries back to the 2019 level. One more thing is the fact that the advanced information we were given was incredibly inaccurate a lot of the time. I used the advanced information as I was meant to and studies other topics as well as those listed, but one some of the papers the advanced information was very misleading. For example, on the first biology paper one of the top listed topics (so should be one of the most credits) was photosynthesis, for there to be a single 5 mark question that was a FILL IN THE GAP. It’s the first time ever that I’ve wanted more questions on photosynthesis. I revised it so much for it to hardly come up. In the same subject, enzymes didn’t appear ont the advanced information at all but came up a lot in (I think) all 3 papers!! The3rd biology paper also had a chemistry topic in that we don’t even cover in biology, which was very surprising to see at the time. .

The last reason I fell let down is the leak of our chemistry paper. More than a week before we sat it, the paper was circulating around so much so that over 5000 students got access to it. There is evidence that AQA was told a week in advance about this leak and it was reported by many people, yet nothing was done about it and we found out after we’d already sat the paper that some people had an unfair advantage and a week to get all the answers they needed.

There’s a couple of things that I can’t get out of my mind that have been in there for weeks. For example, the fact that I didn’t realise it at the time, but all throughout my time at my first secondary I was bullied by different people a lot. Initially it was the girls who I called my friends, who I eventually left the group of because I was treated so incredibly poorly by them. They spent at least 4 months trying to kick me out while I had no other friends to fall back on. Then there was J and A, who took the piss out of me whenever I was with them, whether it be social or because the seating plan had me with them in lesson. Then there was C, who was manipulating me a lot to conform to her and be her mini follower. There was also the drama between T and M that I managed to get in the middle of, and M and MB ganging up on me at times in the middle of it all. At that place I just seemed to be hated by everyone.

It is 00:45 on results day currently so I will sign off here

Thanks all xx

0 notes

mickules · 3 years

Photo

Saints and Sinners Order and Chaos

---

(this was supposed to be a Mastermind Taka/Ishida & Mastermind Mondo pic but came out more like a Persona 4 shadow confrontation- whoops!)

My thoughts on Masterminds got SPOILERY so beneath the cut is the ask that prompted this!

(Plus a bunch of angst themed asks, based off [these] li’l minicomics, mostly about Ultra Despair Girls - but I thought they paired well thematically with Mastermind AUs) (next set of angst asks [here]) (previous set of angst asks [here])

(plus another little ask [here] about the persona 4 parallels)

SPOILERS For the Masterminds of all the games, and discussion of canon character death.

Please use your discretion; dark, canon-typical themes. mentions of death and suicide.

@yaysof11037

I’ll be honest, but once they’re found out, the Masterminds aren’t that interesting to me - what can I say I love the chase! (I mean I SAY masterminds plural b u u u u t . . . ) Part of that is just the nature of the game, they’re there to be discovered. We don’t get a chance to explore their real personalities or motivations throughout the game the way we can with the other characters. It’s all in one concentrated stream once they’re revealed. (fun fact; I worked out who the V3 Mastermind in trial 3. No Hate, but it was because she acted as close to a background mob character as you could get, which is a pretty big red flag for a character in a Danganronpa game.)

I do love how people have taken the concept of the Mastermind, and even the whole killing game, and have put their own spins on it - different murderers, different victims, supremely cool! I also like how people develop Junko’s motivation into a different Mastermind- She’s driven by an inborn obsession with despair coupled with the intelligence and charisma to pull off an apocalypse, so seeing why other characters find themselves becoming the Ultimate Despair is always interesting! I think @mangoshibi ’s Mastermind Hiro is a brill example of this - He was trapped in a supernatural loop, became despondent with his clairvoyance, and began to pit his predictions against the Ultimates; chasing despair every time they defy his divination - Marvellous!

I LOVE the Mastermind designs; the Half and Half uniform looks snazzy as hell! BUT THEN I saw somewhere that Mondo and Taka’s colour scheme is perfectly balanced as a yin yang, and it BLEW MY MIND, I really wanted to try inverting the scheme to keep the balance with a Mastermind version.

It’s a shame that Taka’s death happened in such a flurry of back and forth because it really became a footnote in working out how Hifumi died, and who ultimately was the puppeteer. I mean, blunt force trauma with what is essentially a sledgehammer is fairly deadly, but I don’t believe they say Taka’s death was instant the way they clarify with Chihiro. That coupled with his hair being black rather than white when we find the body, and that Hifumi definitely lived for a while after the attack does lend itself to some pretty dreadful implications. It was probably a foregone conclusion - even if he was found I doubt he’d have been able to get the treatment needed to survive a catastrophic brain injury; but the idea that he was shocked to reality? Did he too, gain back the memories of his life before the killing game? Did he realise the true mastermind - but is paralysed, unable to warn anyone? Did he understand the horror of being betrayed, only to die, alone? Holy cow. That would be Junko’s dream - a truly despairing death.

---

Honestly; glad they didn’t! It might sound like an oxymoron to say that’d be “too dark” for dangan, but ultimately in my opinion it’s because dangan is FUNNY that it’s so good. It explores some really dark stuff but it never takes itself too seriously. Taka having a mental break at the death of his only real friend is heartbreaking but Ishida? PATENTLY RIDICULOUS. HELL; Sakura’s death reveal is a feckin’ reference to ASHITA NO JOE - it’s like, such a haunting moment, and they referenced that BLOODY FAMOUS SCENE and I damn near yeeted my laptop across the room.

---

ah, being able to put the blame on someone else is quite the tonic isn’t it? I guarantee Hiroko, and Hiro too, would have a couple of very choice words for Takaaki after that stunt.

(can we get an F in the chat lads) I genuinely would have liked more info about ALL the hit list targets, the raw potential! That’s definitely how I see Takaaki in the ‘worst timeline’, from his Father’s scandal (and maybe even before that, having a parent become Prime Minister isn’t easy even if they aren’t embroiled in corruption) his life is just a series of unfortunate events, continually trending downward. Taka getting into Hope’s Peak would probably have been a brief break in the clouds; only for it serve as the boy’s grave. However - Takaaki is a difficult one precisely because there is so little info about him. It’s hard to delve without mixing a liberal amount of headcanon in. I’ve seen some excellent interpretations that frame Takaaki as much more of an antagonistic influence in Taka’s life; his being a Hit List Target not actually proof of being a loving or even a good parent, just that he’s important enough to isolated, lonely Taka to be made a hostage.

---

Although Haiji’s reasoning seems more selfish & cowardly than ‘for the greater good’, Takaaki has an unfortunate predisposition toward paranoia and would probably agree with the idea of killing the children as a last resort in an Us vs Them ultimatum. This isn’t to say he’d WANT that solution, but he’s nothing if not frighteningly practical; you can only do so much if you’re trying to non-fatally defend against someone earnestly trying to kill you. (tho’ would Takaaki be able to resist the temptation of extra-judicial punishment against Haiji now the police essentially don’t exist? That’s another question entirely)

Ah~ The morbid curiosity of teenage boys. Takemichi would 100% demand to see the body. I mean if someone told me my brother had turned into butter? I’d be devastated, but there’s NO WAY I ain’t seeing how IN THE HELL that happened

!!Thank you very very much!! :D Angst stuff really gives ya a chance to go ham with expressions and I love it! I’ve got a longer full colour angst thing in the works - early stages - but it’s SO MUCH FUN!

---

Just to let you know; I have a MASSIVE ask dump in my drafts, which I’ll be posting soon-ish, after a full comic (which isn’t Dangan, but it is a fandom which has some decent crossover - we’ll see how it goes XD) I love all the asks but I like to collect them all into one space like hoarder and then unleash ‘em all at once! If you’ve asked me anythin’ I’ve seen it! I’m just ruminating over it, they give me something fun to think about when I’m at work :)

edit: That ask dump is [here] and that full colour non-dangan comic [here] ;)

1K notes · View notes

labomi · 3 years

Text

selfish | two (18+)

Summary: You’re a former coworker of Kento Nanami back when he was just an office worker. You accidentally run into him at a bakery many years later which gives you a second chance at getting to know the man who had always caught your eye.

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!Reader

Words: 8.6k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+ only), vaginal sex, creampie, explicit language, alcohol

Notes: I’m so happy to get this out finally ajsfdsld thank you for all the lovely comments on the first part! I’m so glad people enjoyed it enough to convince me to write more! This will definitely be the last part for this fic, but I do have plans for more Nanami things in the future. Thanks for reading! It’s also up on my ao3 if you prefer to read it there!

Index: [Part One] [Part Two]

You were moving boxes in the storage room when you heard the chime of the front door opening. With a sudden jolt, you realized you had forgotten to change the sign from “open” to “closed” before cleaning up. Cursing at yourself for the careless mistake, you hoped the customer wouldn’t be too upset that the shop was actually shut down for the night.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed,” you politely explained, emerging from the back room. But one look at the tall figure by the door caused you to stop in your tracks. A large smile grew on your face when you saw exactly who had entered the shop.

Nanami was still in his normal work attire, but he had left behind his signature blazer and sunglasses. The top few buttons of his blue dress shirt were undone, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. You unconsciously licked your lips.

“I can make an exception for you though,” you teased with a wink before walking around the counter to greet your boyfriend.

As you waltzed into his open arms, Nanami leaned down to give you a sweet kiss as a greeting. You sighed happily against his lips. It felt so good to be with him after a long, tiring day. His presence always made you feel safe and warm. Like nothing could ever possibly go wrong as long as you were in his embrace.

Nanami’s hands latched onto your waist as he tried to deepen the kiss, but you reluctantly pulled away with a groan of frustration.

“As much as I’d like to continue, I have to finish closing up shop,” you complained with a pout.

Nanami kissed the top of your head before releasing you. “It’s alright. I’ll wait.”

You changed the sign on the door to “closed” to prevent any unwanted guests from entering the shop. You then wiped down all the counters and properly stored the leftover ingredients. Once finished with all your tasks, you took off your apron and shoved it in your bag.

“I’m ready!” you called out to Nanami as you started to shut off all the lights. The two of you exited the now dark shop before you locked the front door.

Whenever you had a closing shift, Nanami always came to walk you home. You found it absolutely endearing. Even though you didn’t particularly mind traveling alone at night, the walk to your apartment was always more pleasant when the sorcerer was by your side.

It was almost midnight. The normally busy streets were now devoid of both cars and other pedestrians. You loved sharing these quiet moments with Nanami. Just the two of you enjoying each other’s presence with no one else around. Nanami preferred it this way too, especially because he wasn’t a particular fan of PDA.

You were holding onto Nanami’s hand as he quietly walked beside you. “How was work today?” you asked.

Nanami was a little sensitive about discussing his job as a sorcerer with you. He always refused to share the details of his missions, but he begrudgingly answered your general questions about his workday with vague responses.

“It was fine.” He squeezed your hand lightly. “I was able to get off early.”

“Lucky you! I wish I could have finished earlier,” you complained with a huff. “Closing shift is the worst.”

“Did you eat dinner at least?”

You nodded. “I got some takeout during my break.”

“Good.” He knew you had a bad habit of skipping dinner while you were working. You found it more convenient to just eat a granola bar, especially when it was busy. But Nanami always lightly chastised you when you did this, so you had been making more of an effort to eat better.

The two of you finally arrived at your apartment. Once inside, you immediately emptied out of your bag and threw your apron into the laundry hamper. Luckily, you were off of work for the next two days.

“Kento, you’re staying the night, right?” The sorcerer was still standing in your living room.

“I have to report to work early tomorrow. I don’t want to wake you.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a sigh. Nanami was too considerate of you sometimes. “You never wake me up. Plus, I have my 9 am class tomorrow, so I have to be up early anyway.”

Nanami knew you were right. Unlike him, you slept like the dead. Frankly, he was a little jealous. The sorcerer had always been a sensitive sleeper, but he found it much easier to relax in your presence. Since the two of you had started dating, the quality of his sleep remarkably improved.

“I’ll stay.” You grinned smugly. It didn’t take much to convince him to sleep over.

“Good. I’m going to shower.”

The two of you rarely spent the night apart from one another, alternating between each other’s apartments based on the convenience for the night. Nanami had his own toiletries, pajamas, and spare clothes in your apartment, and you had your own set of things at his place as well.

As you took your shower, Nanami changed into his sleepwear and sat on your couch, reading one of many books he left at your place. Once you announced you were done using the bathroom, the sorcerer placed a bookmark and set the book back down on your coffee table. You were already in the bedroom, changing into your pajamas and packing your bag for class tomorrow, knowing you would forget something if you waited until the morning.

You looked up as Nanami entered the room after washing up. You still found it relatively amusing to see him in such casual clothes: a pair of plaid pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt. But you were glad that only you got to see him like this. The man was the perfect example of prim and proper in public, but at home, he found it more appropriate to dress comfortably. And you thought he looked absolutely adorable. Especially with his unstyled hair.

After the lights were turned off, the two you snuggled in bed together and kissed each other goodnight. Within seconds, you were already fast asleep, exhausted from the long day. Nanami listened to the sound of your deep, even breathing. He felt completely at ease with you safely pressed against him. It wasn’t long before he followed you into a deep sleep.

---

Nanami’s life was simple before he met you at that bakery.

He went to work, came back home, read a book, had a glass of scotch, and made some dinner. The cycle repeated nearly every day, but Nanami didn’t particularly mind. He liked having a simple, predictable routine.

Once you reentered his life, things were a bit different. A bit more exciting. He wasn’t complaining.

Instead of only buying groceries for himself, he made sure to also buy your favorite snacks. Instead of making a reservation for one at a restaurant, he asked for a table for two. Instead of placing one set of utensils on his dining table, he always put down two.

Jujutsu sorcerers were a lonely group of people. They often felt isolated from the general population, born with unique abilities that allowed them to see things that most other people could not.

It was a difficult path. Sorcerers faced a life full of constant battle and death. And the only people who could relate to their hardships were the same people dying by their sides.

For this reason, sorcerers rarely interacted with people outside the jujutsu community. They saw themselves as an outsider to the rest of society. A society that was blissfully unaware of the existence of curses.

But it was different with you.

When Nanami was with you, he didn’t feel like an outsider or a jujutsu sorcerer.

He felt like a normal man.

The activities that Nanami once did alone were now the same activities he enjoyed doing together with you. He took you to his favorite bakery to pick out fresh bread every week. He escorted you to well-reviewed restaurants he had been meaning to visit. He even brought you to his beloved local bookstore, the one place he had been visiting for years as a regular customer.

The first time he took you into the shop, the owner couldn’t help but notice the way your hands were intertwined with one another. As you browsed through the shelves on your own, the old woman suggestively waggled her eyebrows at Nanami.

“So you got a lady now?” she asked curiously.

Nanami thought it was a little odd that she was somehow keeping tabs on his relationship status, but he nodded anyway.

“Ah! She’s a pretty one!”

You suddenly reappeared with a tall stack of secondhand books in your arms. “Kento! This place is amazing! I’m going to buy all of these!”

“Oh, definitely a keeper too,” the owner commented.

Nanami found himself agreeing.

He didn’t know if you could be any more perfect.

Nanami had always enjoyed cooking. He loved the process of selecting a recipe, buying fresh ingredients, and turning them into a delicious, home-cooked meal. But he learned that enjoyed cooking even more when it was for you.

The sorcerer was appalled to hear that you hardly ever cooked for yourself. He had surveyed the state of your freezer in utter disgust. It was crammed full of boxes of microwavable meals and several pints of ice cream. You defended yourself vehemently, claiming that you were too busy to cook between classes, work, and study sessions. The microwave was the easiest and quickest appliance to use after all. And sometimes you just wanted ice cream for dinner.

Nanami took it upon himself to make sure you were eating proper, nutritious meals. In his eyes, it was less of a chore and more of a hobby. He enjoyed learning what you liked. He looked forward to hearing your thoughts about a recipe. He loved the way your eyes lit up whenever he presented a new dish. The sorcerer had even subscribed to food magazines and bought some international cookbooks just to try out with you.

Every morning, Nanami packed you a healthy lunch to ensure you wouldn’t just eat a granola bar for the entire day. And whenever the two of you both had a free night, you always ate dinner together.

In particular, Friday nights had become a weekly tradition between the two of you. Nanami would prepare a special dinner with some fancy wine. The two of you would even dress up a little to celebrate the start of the weekend.

You knocked on Nanami’s door one Friday night, wearing a simple yet elegant dress with just a hint of makeup on your face. The door opened and you were instantly greeted by the mouth-watering smell of whatever the man was cooking in the kitchen. But the sight of Nanami was even more distracting. He was wearing an apron over a tight black button-up shirt with gray slacks. You bit your lip softly, eyeing him appreciatively.

While you enjoyed going out to eat in a restaurant, there was something more intimate about Nanami cooking dinner at home just for the two of you. Plus, the atmosphere was always lovely. His apartment was clean, spacious, and well-decorated. Whatever jujutsu sorcerers got paid, it was clearly more than enough.

“It smells good,” you hummed. “What are you making tonight?”

The sorcerer never revealed dinner to you in advance. For some reason, he always wanted to keep it a surprise.

“Homemade linguine with shrimp. I also got some fresh bread to go along with it.”

Your eyes lit up instantly. “Oooh, sounds delicious! I didn’t know you knew how to make pasta from scratch.”

Everything that Nanami prepared was always amazing. There was never a meal he made that you didn’t enjoy. The first time he cooked you dinner, you almost wanted to propose to him right then and there. A man with those looks and proper culinary skills? You felt like the luckiest person in the world.

You always offered to help Nanami while he was cooking but he would gently shoo you out of the kitchen every time. You weren’t sure if it was because he wanted you to sit back and relax or if it was because he thought you would mess things up.

It was probably the latter.

(Most definitely the latter.)

Due to your clear lack of culinary expertise, you were in charge of cleaning all the pots and pans and loading the dishwasher. You couldn’t complain.

Your post-dinner activities were always the same. The two of you would play a movie and then immediately proceed to ignore it for the rest of the night.

Tonight was no different.

You moaned loudly, writhing about on the couch. “Kento, fuck.”

Your dress was hiked up around your hips, underwear already discarded with Nanami’s face in between your legs. You were already shuddering through your second orgasm of the night with Nanami eagerly lapping up your fluids. His strong arms locked your thrashing legs into place as you gripped the edges of the couch, riding out the last few waves of intense pleasure.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes as he pulled back, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “Ready?” he asked in a deep voice. His pupils were blown open in lust. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. The man gathered you in his arms and headed to the bedroom.

He carefully set you down on unsteady legs as he pulled the zipper down your dress until the garment fell and landed in a heap on the ground. To his pleasant surprise, you were already braless. You turned around and started to slowly unbutton Nanami’s dress shirt, taking your sweet time. His gaze raked over your entire figure, causing your fingers to fumble as you flushed from the intensity of his stare. Eventually, Nanami had enough. He threw you on the bed and quickly shed the rest of his clothes on his own.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, climbing on the bed and hovering over you. His large, calloused hands roamed all over your bare skin while his mouth focused on sucking at the sensitive spots on your neck.

You relished the feel of Nanami’s touch all over you, but one glance at his painfully hard cock had your cunt begging to be filled.

“Kento,” you whined. “I can’t wait. Fuck me, please. I need you inside me, right now.”

Nanami sheathed his entire length inside you with just one sharp thrust. He proceeded to fuck you hard and fast, just the way you liked. Each snap of his hips left you a complete mess underneath him, moaning his name over and over again. It was just barely audible over the lewd, wet sounds of your desperate cunt squeezing around him.

Nanami grabbed one of your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours. A sweet gesture as he roughly pounded you into the bed. The two of you were so worked up that it didn’t take long for the both of you to quickly become undone. You arched your back and tightly gripped Nanami’s hand as uncontrollable pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. Nanami groaned your name as he sloppily thrust into you several more times before flooding your cunt with his cum.

When he finally pulled out, Nanami was satisfied to see his seed trickling out of you.

“Kento,” you called his name, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.

The man adjusted his position so he was now laying next to you. He kissed you sweetly and whispered praises of you as you giggled breathlessly.

“Hmm, I don’t want to get out of bed and clean up yet.”

“Then don’t,” Nanami said with a devious look in his eyes.

It was then that you felt his length hardening once again against your thigh. He suddenly pulled you on top of him as he laid on his back. The movement caused your sensitive folds to inadvertently rub against his dick as you straddled his hips. You gasped at the feeling, clutching at his chest to prop you up.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled.

---

It was a slow afternoon when a man entered the boba shop. He wore an all-black outfit and a matching beanie. Tufts of his disheveled brown hair stuck out from underneath.

“Hello!” You greeted him inside as his eyes flickered around the place nervously before walking up to the cash register.

“What would you like to order?”

Instead of browsing the menu, the man’s gaze was focused elsewhere. Specifically, your chest. You stood there uncomfortably, wondering if you should say something or just ignore him. But then you realized the man wasn’t being a creep. He was reading your name tag.

The man said your name out loud hesitantly.

“Yes? That’s me.” You tilted your head slightly, trying to figure out if you knew this man. Nothing about his appearance rang a bell. You then started to worry about whether or not you were supposed to recognize him. Was he a current classmate? A former coworker?

The man’s eyes instantly lit up. “You’re Nanami’s girlfriend, right?”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

Kento? He knows Kento?

“Oh, um, yes I am.” The question had taken you off guard. You weren’t expecting a random customer to mention your boyfriend’s name.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” The man smiled brightly at you, looking extremely excited. “Gojo always mentions how pretty and kind you are, so I couldn’t resist visiting when he told me you worked here.”

Gojo?

If this man knew both Nanami and Gojo, did this mean he was also a sorcerer?

The stranger had piqued your curiosity, and you just couldn’t give up the opportunity to sit down and chat with him. Luckily, it was a slow day and you convinced your coworker to allow you to take your break early. After preparing two drinks, you slipped into a booth in the back of the shop with the man taking a seat across from you.

“I’m Ino Takuma.” The man introduced himself to you.

“So, if you know Gojo and Kento, does that mean you’re a sorcerer?” You kept your voice hushed while asking, just in case your nosy coworkers were trying to listen in on your conversation.

Ino nodded. “Yep, I am.”

You couldn’t help but feel excited to meet another one of Nanami’s colleagues. He purposely tried to shield you from the jujutsu world, but it only made you more curious. Plus, you wanted to know more about what Nanami was like as a sorcerer. He was always so gentle and sweet with you. Well, except for in bed. But it was sometimes hard to imagine that he exorcised curses for a living.

“Do you know Kento well?” you asked curiously.

Ino nodded eagerly. “Yes! I worked with him on a mission once and since then, I’ve really respected him.” He blushed a little, rubbing the back of his head. “Nanami is my role model. I don’t see myself as a particularly smart guy, so whenever I don’t know what to do, I always ask myself what would Nanami do?”

Ino’s words were full of sincerity. In some ways, he reminded you of Itadori. Both of the boys seemed to admire Nanami in a way you would never understand as a non-sorcerer. But it made your heart full knowing that Nanami was a trusted mentor in his workplace.

“Does that mean Kento is strong?” You were a little hesitant to ask the question. As an outsider to the jujutsu world, you didn’t know what made a sorcerer strong. But if another sorcerer told you that Nanami was indeed powerful, you would feel comforted. You knew his job was dangerous, so you obviously worried about his safety, but you tried your best not to show it around him.

“Nanami is super strong!” Ino exclaimed, arms flailing around to emphasize his point. “He’s a Grade 1 sorcerer! That’s practically the best you can be!”

You bit back a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know. Thank you, Ino.”

The two of you continued to chat for the rest of your break, getting to know each other better. Ino even successfully squeezed out of you Nanami’s favorite bakery and favorite bookstore. He claimed he wanted to surprise the man with a gift he would actually appreciate. You encouraged him with a warm smile.

“Thank you for the tea and the conversation,” Ino said, sliding out of the booth. He hovered around you with a light blush dusting his cheeks again. “Um, next time you see Nanami, can you maybe ask him about my recommendation to a Grade 1 sorcerer? If you don’t mind that is!”

“Sure! Will do. It was great meeting you. Thank you for helping to keep Kento safe!”

Ino’s eyes widened at your words. He puffed out his chest proudly. “Of course!”

You waved at him as he exited the shop with a loud farewell.

After your shift, you had returned to your apartment to change and grab some things to spend the night at Nanami’s apartment. When you arrived at his place, the man was already setting the table for dinner. You hugged him from behind with a happy hum as finished his task. Nanami gently removed your arms from around him before turning around and greeting you with a kiss.

“Welcome home.”

“Dinner smells good,” you commented happily. “I’m starving!”

Nanami chuckled lightly. He pulled out a chair for you. “Sit down and I’ll serve you.”

The two of you sat at the table together, plates filled with delicious curry rice.

“How was your day today?” Nanami asked once you both started eating.

“Oh!” You swallowed your bite. “I actually met a coworker of yours. He came to the shop.”

“Who?” Nanami looked rather unhappy, gripping the spoon in his hand forcefully.

“Ino Takuma.”

Nanami sighed, rubbing his forehead in irritation. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to tell him to stay away from you. I have no idea how he found your workplace in the first place.”

“Huh? What? No, it’s fine! Ino was very kind and sweet. I enjoyed chatting with him. Also, don’t be too mad at him, Gojo was the one who told him about me.”

Nanami clenched his fist. The next time he saw that white-haired idiot, he was going to kill him.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “Kento, why are you so against me meeting other jujutsu sorcerers? These people are important to you, no? I want to meet them.”

Nanami refused to meet your gaze. He still wasn’t comfortable with the thought of you interacting with the jujutsu world, sorcerers included. “I’m just trying to prote—”

“Protect me, I know.” You let out a deep sigh. “But I don’t want you to hide your life as a sorcerer from me. It’s a big part of your identity, and I want to learn more about jujutsu so I can understand you, Gojo, Itadori, and everyone better.” You lowered your voice slightly. “I care about you all, you know.”

Nanami reached out across to the table to gently hold your hand. “I know,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry.” He knew that shielding you from the jujutsu world as much as possible wasn’t doing you or him any favors. But Nanami didn’t know what else to do. He never imagined he would be dating someone while working as a sorcerer. And he especially never imagined he would be dating a non-sorcerer.

Relationships between sorcerers and non-sorcerers rarely worked out, so Nanami tried to restrict your access to the jujutsu world as much as possible. He refused to talk about his missions with you. He tried to limit the presence of other sorcerers around you. He did this to protect you, but maybe he was doing it to protect himself instead. He didn’t want to lose you or scare you away.

“I do want to share my life as a sorcerer with you.” Nanami was struggling to find the right words. “But it’s difficult for me.” He had always envisioned his personal life and his work life as two separate spheres, but you were beginning to blur those lines. “I promise I’ll do better.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his efforts. “Well, we can take it slow.”

“Thank you.”

You were cleaning the dishes in the sink when Nanami wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face in your neck. Both of you felt so much lighter after the discussion during dinner.

“Oh!” A sudden realization popped into your mind. “I forgot to mention. Ino asked me to tell you not to forget his Grade 1 sorcerer recommendation.”

Nanami groaned in the crook of your neck. “Of course he did, that impatient kid.”

“What’s a recommendation? Are you not going to do it?”

He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Kento,” you whined.

“Alright. I’ll explain it to you after you’re done.”

---

You had just finished class when a text popped up on your phone. It was from Gojo.

Gojo: Hey! Do you want to go to dinner with me, Yuji, and Nanami tonight????

Dinner? You felt a tinge of excitement.

You: Sure! I’m free!

You didn’t know what the occasion was for, but you were grateful for the invite. Gojo often stopped by at your workplace, occasionally accompanied by Itadori, to greet you and grab a sweet drink. But you unfortunately never had the time to properly sit down with him and catch up.

Out of all sorcerers you had met so far, Gojo was the most mysterious. After all, what sort of man wore a blindfold in public? And now that you thought about it, how did he always seem to know when you were working? Especially since your work schedule differed from week to week...

Weird.

Gojo: Great! I’ll send you the time and place later~

You: Thanks! See you then!

You were about to text Nanami and tell him you were looking forward to dinner when one of your classmates called your name.

“Yes?” you asked, looking away from your phone.

“Want to join our study group? We’re heading to the library right now!”

“Yeah, sure! Coming!”

It was only after you left the library several hours later that you realized you had forgotten to text Nanami. But you figured it wasn’t a big deal since you would soon see him at dinner.

Nanami looked at his watch impatiently. It was already past 5 pm. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be back in his apartment, prepping dinner for you. “What are we doing here, Gojo? I need to get home.”

The white-haired calmly rested his arms behind his head with a suspicious smirk on his face. “Relax, Nanami. We’re waiting for a surprise.”

Itadori perked up beside him, looking up at his sensei with wide eyes. “A surprise?! What kind of surprise?”

Gojo chuckled. “The best kind.”

Nanami let out an exasperated sigh. He removed his sunglasses and put them in his pocket. The three sorcerers were standing around in the middle of a busy street filled with pedestrians. “I don’t have time for such frivolities, Gojo. Excuse me, but I’m leavi—”

“Wait!” Gojo exclaimed. He waved at someone in the crowd. “She’s here!”

“She?” Nanami repeated, trying to follow Gojo’s line of sight.

It was easy to spot Gojo, even amongst the giant, moving crowd. The tall man towered over everyone else and his bright, white hair easily stood out in the background. You could see him waving his hand at you, so you waved back.

Squeezing your way through the crowd, you joined up with the three sorcerers with an excited grin. “Hi!”

“Say hello to the surprise,” Gojo announced, waltzing over to your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

Itadori looked thrilled to see you, but as your eyes shifted to Nanami, you immediately sensed something was wrong.

“Gojo, you did tell Kento you invited me, right?” you asked cautiously, looking up at the tall man.

The sorcerer hummed to himself for several seconds before responding. “Nope!”

You blanched. Uh oh. You should have texted him.

Nanami didn’t look too visibly upset, but he was pinching the bridge of his nose with a frown. When would that idiot stop meddling with his personal life behind his back?

“Na-na-mi,” Gojo said in a singsong voice. “Are you excited to see your stunning, beautiful, and gorgeous girlfriend? Shouldn’t you be thanking me for bringing her here?” The white-haired sorcerer pulled you even closer to him. He didn’t miss the way Nanami’s eyes instantly narrowed at him.

Nanami grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of Gojo’s grasp until you were comfortably nestled against his side. He couldn’t stand seeing that man's hands on you. “Don’t let him touch you. His idiocy is contagious.”

You giggled at the comment. Gojo let out a satisfied hum, watching the two of you together. “Alright, lovebirds!” He clapped his hands together. “It’s time for dinner!”

“Dinner?!” Itadori gasped. He started salivating at the thought of food. “Gojo-sensei, what are we eating?”

The tall sorcerer patted the top of Itadori’s head affectionately. “To celebrate Yuji’s last night as a dead man, we’re going to a steakhouse!”

The kid loudly cheered as you looked to Nanami for clarification.

“Itadori is being introduced back to the school tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see.” Gojo had told you before that the Itadori was supposed to be dead and not to mention his existence to anyone. You didn’t understand why and you didn’t ask, but you kept your promise. The young sorcerer bounced around excitedly before hugging Gojo. You couldn’t help but smile at the adorable interaction.

“Let’s hurry up, so we’re not late for our reservation.” Gojo started walking quickly through the crowd with Itadori right by his side. You and Nanami were a little ways behind them as you found it hard to keep up with Gojo’s brisk pace. He pressed a warm hand against your lower back, guiding you through the large crowd.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that Gojo invited me,” you apologized. Even though Nanami said he would be more open about the jujutsu world, you knew he was still sensitive about you spending too much time around other sorcerers. “I was going to text you but then some classmates asked me if I wanted to study with them, and I said yes because you know I need all the help I can get, and then I completely forgot to message you and by the time I left the library and actually remembered I didn’t text you, I thought it wasn’t worth it since I was going to be seeing you at dinner soon, and I, uh, yeah.” You winced, realizing you were rambling yet again.

“It’s not your fault,” he assured you. “That idiot always has something up this sleeve.”

“You’re not upset, right?”

He rubbed his hand up and down your back. It sent a tingle up your spine. “I'm not upset," Nanami replied honestly. "I’m glad you’re here.”

You slid into the booth at the steakhouse. Itadori was already seated across from you. Gojo was about to take the open seat next to you, but Nanami grabbed the back of the man’s uniform and shoved him away.

“Hey!” the sorcerer loudly complained.

Nanami sat down next to you, completely unbothered. “Sit with your student, Gojo.” You tried to stifle your laughter, looking at the two men in complete amusement.

Gojo slid into the booth next to Itadori with a carefree grin. Teasing Nanami was too easy when you were around.

The four of you had a pleasant dinner together. Your only complaint was the way Nanami rubbed your thigh with his left hand the entire time while waiting for the food to arrive. You were wearing a rather short dress which rode up as you sat down, giving him perfect access to your bare skin. It was incredibly distracting.

You were a little surprised that Nanami was doing something like this in public, even though it was mostly hidden from sight. Part of you wondered if it was because Gojo was present. Nanami always acted a little differently with you when the other sorcerer was around.

For some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that Gojo knew exactly what was happening underneath the table. Even with his blindfold on, you could tell that the sorcerer was looking right at you with a knowing smile on his face. You felt a little flustered, but Nanami seemed completely unperturbed. Perhaps it was just your imagination.

After dinner, you followed Itadori out the front door of the restaurant.

“Ah! I’m so stuffed!” he commented with a satisfied hum, rubbing his belly.

“I hope you still have room for some dessert.”

The two of you turned back to look at Gojo. Nanami was only a couple of steps behind him.

“Oh! Dessert? Don’t worry, Sensei. I always got room for that!” He gave Gojo a thumbs up.

“Great! I happen to know an amazing ice cream shop around the corner!” You blinked in surprise as the white-haired sorcerer wrapped a long arm around your shoulder again and started ushering you towards the destination. “Let’s get going!”

What you didn’t see was the way Gojo turned his head back to send a smug look to his dear friend. Nanami glared at the sorcerer but didn’t intervene. The walk to the shop was short, and you didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, happily chatting away with Itadori about the best and worst ice cream flavors.

It wasn’t until you all arrived at the shop that you pulled away from Gojo and latched onto his arm instead. “What are you going to get?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. What do you want?” he asked.

You looked at the menu, eyes squinting in concentration. “I’m stuck between Peanut Butter Cup and Mint Chocolate Chip.”

“Pick one and I’ll get the other. We can share.”

Your eyes widened. “Really? You don’t have to.”

Nanami smiled softly at that adorable look on your face. He gently tucked a hair away from your face. “I like both of those flavors anyway.”

Itadori and Gojo silently exchanged looks with one another. They were both internally squealing at the cute exchange they just witnessed between the two of you. It was rare to see such a soft side of Nanami in public.

“Nanami,” Gojo cooed, a little jealous. “Do you want to share some ice cream with me too?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Huh? Why not?” the sorcerer whined.

“Because you’ll get the most sickening ice cream flavor of them all.”

Nanami was absolutely correct.

Gojo ordered a large cone of triple chocolate ice cream with chunks of brownies, cookie dough, and fudge mixed with swirls of caramel and marshmallow.

It was a complete abomination.

The four of you sat outside, enjoying the nice weather while indulging in ice cream. You thought it was cute how Itadori’s strawberry cone almost matched the color of his hair. Once everyone finished their dessert, the group finally split up. You waved goodbye at Gojo and Itadori. “Good luck tomorrow, Itadori!” He had shared with you earlier about how excited (and a little nervous) he was to see his classmates again. You hoped the reunion went well.

It was a quiet walk home with Nanami. The two you held hands, enjoying the calm atmosphere now that Gojo and Itadori were both gone.

As soon as you entered Nanami’s apartment, you took off your shoes as Nanami removed his blazer. “I had a good time tonight,” you mused. “Itadori is such a sweetie, and Gojo—”

Your words were cut off with a gasp as Nanami roughly pushed you against the wall. He put a knee in between your legs, and one of his hands began to crawl up your exposed thigh. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, shivering as you felt the pleasant tingle of his touch. He gave you such a heated look that it left you swallowing nervously.

“I don’t want to hear another man’s name out of your mouth tonight,” he growled in your ear.

You looked back at him, both half-amused and half-aroused. “I’m only yours, Kento.”

“Good.”

Nanami whisked you away to the bedroom as you laughed breathily in his arms.

---

Nanami surveyed the numerous body bags in the morgue of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

“Three Grade 2 sorcerers. One Semi-Grade 1 sorcerer. Five Auxiliary Managers. Two storage attendants,” Ijichi listed off the number of casualties.

Nanami clenched his fists. “This is the same curse that Itadori and I fought together, correct?”

“Yes,” the manager replied, pushing up his glasses. “Shoko confirmed that the bodies were all disfigured in the same manner.”

The sorcerer grit his teeth in frustration. He blamed himself. If he had been able to exorcise the curse back then, these innocent lives might have been spared. After all, it was his fault that Mahito had escaped. He hadn’t been quick enough.

“Gojo, can I have a private word with you?”

The white-haired sorcerer had been leaning against the wall the entire time, quiet for once.

“I’ll take my leave,” Ijichi announced, exiting the room.

Nanami broke the silence first.

“If anything happens to me, promise me you’ll take care of her.”

Gojo didn’t respond right away. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked in an unusually serious tone.

“Mahito is still around. My attacks are not effective against him. He seems to have a special interest in me, so there is a high probability we will run into each other again. And I may not be lucky enough to have Itadori by my side then.”

“No.”

“What?!” Nanami whipped around to face the sorcerer. The fury in his eyes was hidden by his sunglasses, but Gojo could sense the anger all the same.

“No, I won’t promise to take care of her.”

“Gojo, you—”

“Stop acting like you’re trying to die.” Nanami stiffened. “Take care of her yourself. You’re strong.”

A tense silence hung in the air.

Nanami let out a deep breath.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

---

The next day, Nanami had just finished a mission when the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event ended. He came back to campus to see all the students in baseball uniforms. Wasn’t the second day dedicated to individual battles?

“Oh, Nanami!” Gojo called out, jogging over to him. He had forgone his blindfold for a pair of sunglasses and wore a simple button-up shirt and pants instead of his normal uniform. “Too bad you missed the game! We won!”

“The game?”

Gojo nodded with a devious look on his face. “Yup! This year, the Goodwill Event winner was determined by a baseball game!” He laughed victoriously.

Nanami shook his head. Only Gojo could successfully pull off a stunt like this in front of both school principals.

“By the way, we’re going out for some drinks tonight. Even Utahime and Mei Mei said they would join. You should come. And bring your girlfriend too.”

“Absolutely not.” There was potentially a traitor among the group, and Gojo thought it was a good idea to bring you into the mix? There was no way he was going to let that happen.

“Too bad. I already invited her.”

“You what?! ” Nanami fumed.

“You mad or something?”

Nanami thought about trying to strangle the white-haired sorcerer when his phone chimed. It was a message from you.

You: Gojo invited me out with you guys tonight. Is that ok?

“Is that her?” Gojo asked, trying to peek at Nanami’s phone screen.

“None of your business.”

He began typing his response.

“I know you won’t say no to her,” Gojo hummed. The other sorcerer ignored him.

Nanami: Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together?

You: I have to stay a lil late at work :( someone called out sick so I’ll just meet you all there

Nanami: You sure? I don’t mind waiting for you.

You: Yup it’s fine! See you tonight!

Nanami locked his phone and put it away.

“So?” Gojo asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“She’s coming,” Nanami grumbled.

The white-haired sorcerer clapped his hands together excitedly like he hadn’t planned for this to happen from the start. “Great! I’m looking forward to tonight!”

Nanami glared at him in response.

“What? You still mad?”

Nanami tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the table. You still hadn’t arrived yet. Utahime was somehow already drunk, loudly laughing at something Shoko said. Gojo was bothering Ijichi who was sputtering nervously, and Mei Mei was silently sipping on a cocktail she forced Gojo to buy for her. Nanami bit back a sigh. He missed you.

“I heard from a little birdie that you have a girlfriend now, Nanami. And a non-sorcerer one at that,” Mei Mei commented with a sly smile.

Nanami looked at Gojo, knowing exactly who this “little birdie” was, but the white-haired sorcerer turned away with a whistle.

“A girlfriend?!” Utahime gasped. She grabbed Shoko’s shoulders and violently shook her. “Shoko, did you know about this?”

The doctor was completely unfazed. “Yeah. We’ve all met her before except you and Mei Mei.”

Utahime covered her face and made dramatic sobbing noises. “Out of all of us, it’s Nanami who’s dating first?!”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. What was that supposed to mean?

“Shoko!” Utahime whined. “Will you marry me if I’m still single at 40?”

“I’ll do it!” Gojo quipped.

The Kyoto sorcerer made a disgusted gagging noise. “Like hell I would ever agree to that!”

“I’ll do it for money. How much would you pay me?” Mei Mei asked.

“You guys are all terrible!” Utahime exclaimed. She latched onto Shoko. “Only Shoko is nice to me!”

“But I never said I would marry you,” the doctor pointed out calmly.

The entire table burst into laughter. Nanami quietly sipped on his beer.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Your bright voice finally caught the man’s attention. You waved at the group, heading over. Nanami got up to greet you but a certain white-haired man beat him to it.

Gojo called your name happily, wrapping you into an unexpected bear hug.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Nanami commanded, immediately dragging the sorcerer off of you and kicking him back into his seat.

You chuckled lightly before hugging Nanami too. Hesitating for a little bit, you decided to kiss the man on the cheek. You knew he didn’t like PDA, but you still wanted to greet him affectionately.

“I think you missed,” Gojo pointed out.

Flushing in embarrassment at Gojo's comment, you were about to pull away and take a seat, but Nanami suddenly leaned down and kissed you on the lips deeply. It was so unexpected that you couldn’t suppress the noise of surprise that left your throat. You could vaguely hear the cheering and wolf whistles from the table which only made you blush more. Nanami finally pulled away, leaving you breathless.

“Now that’s more like it,” Gojo commented with a slow clap.

Ijichi covered his face with his hands, unable to believe he witnessed Nanami in such a manner. Utahime’s jaw dropped open in complete shock. Shoko was busy rummaging through her purse for a cigarette. Mei Mei raised her eyebrows, impressed at Nanami’s boldness.

Gojo gestured to you. “Well, say hi to Nanami’s girlfriend, everyone!”

You shyly waved at them. “Hi,” you squeaked, still embarrassed.

Even though you had the day off tomorrow, you hadn’t planned on drinking a lot during the night. But Utahime challenged all the girls to a drink-off and you couldn’t resist participating to get to know the other women better. Mei Mei only agreed to partake once Gojo confirmed he would cover everyone’s tabs.

It turned out that both Shoko and Mei Mei had incredibly high tolerances. You and Utahime on the other hand, not so much.

You groaned, struggling to climb the steps up to Nanami’s apartment. After watching your pitiful attempt, the sorcerer lifted you in his arms and carried you the rest of the way.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You felt bad that Nanami had to take care of you, especially because you had not intended to get this drunk.

“Don’t apologize.” He carefully set you down on your feet as he opened his apartment door. Nanami helped you wash up and get changed before joining you in bed once he was done with his own nightly routine.

You were practically laying on top of Nanami while rubbing a hand down his firm chest. When your hand started to wander lower, he gently took it and brought it up to his face to kiss it. “We should go to sleep.”

You pouted a little but mumbled in agreement, rolling off the man and nestling into his side instead. “Good night, Kento. Love you.”

Nanami stiffened, suddenly wide awake after hearing your words. He was filled with such an indescribable emotion that it left him completely speechless. Nanami was worried you would be upset that he hadn’t responded right away, but he was instead greeted by the familiar sound of your slow, deep breaths. You were asleep.

He let out a sigh. Nanami wondered if you would remember your confession in the morning, but he doubted it. Your memory was always spotty when you got this drunk.

Nanami kissed your head, stroking your hair gently.

“I love you too.”

---

“Is something wrong?”

Nanami didn’t even look up from the newspaper he was reading to address the white-haired sorcerer. “Everything is fine. Why are you asking?”

Gojo hummed, tapping a finger on his chin in thought. His sharp eyes took in his friend’s appearance. “You seem a bit tense. You didn’t have a fight with the girlfriend, did you?”

“Nothing of that sort happened. And even if it did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“So you did have a fight!” Gojo exclaimed.

Nanami turned the page. “No, we did not. And just to stop your incessant bothering, I will tell you that she has a very important exam today, so I have not seen her in several days to allow her to focus on studying.”

“Ahh, I see!” It made perfect sense to Gojo now. “You look so tense because you’re sexually frustrated!”

Nanami crumbled the edges of the newspaper in his hands. “I refuse to talk about such things with you.”

“Oh, but you’re not denying it,” Gojo pointed you. “Nanami, there is absolutely no shame in talking about our sex lives. We should be more open about sex to destigmatize it. For example, last week I—”

“I’m leaving,” Nanami suddenly announced. He folded up his newspaper and exited the lounge. He’d rather fight four Grade One curses single-handedly than hear about that man’s sex life.

---

Nanami couldn’t keep his hands off of you. As soon as you walked through his apartment door, cheering that you were finally done with your exam, he immediately pulled you into his arms and kissed you wantonly.

Your absence in the past few days was so striking. He had trouble sleeping and didn’t even feel like cooking without your familiar presence around him. It was so good to have you back again.

You giggled at his eagerness, looking up at him with a knowing smile. “Did you miss me?”

Nanami was already ushering you towards his bedroom.

“Let me show you just how much I missed you.”

The next morning, you stumbled out of Nanami’s bedroom with a loud yawn. You had no class or work for the day, so you were looking forward to lounging around Nanami’s apartment as a reward for suffering through your exam yesterday.

You perked up when you smelled something good in the air. Popping your head in the kitchen, you saw Nanami flipping pancakes.

“Good morning!” You eyed the pancakes with a hungry look.

“Good morning. Breakfast will be ready in a few,” Nanami replied, adding more batter into the pan.

“Okay!” You left to quickly get dressed for the day.

By the time you returned, Nanami was setting down a plate on the table piled high with fluffy blueberry pancakes.

“Thank you for breakfast!” you said with a wide grin, snatching two pancakes and putting them on your own plate.

After eating, Nanami looked at this watch with a small frown. “I have to go.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll clean everything up.” You headed over to the door where Nanami was slipping into his shoes and putting on his blazer. Before he opened the door, you stepped in to fix his tie that was just slightly askew.

“I’ll see you tonight, handsome?”

“Of course.”

For you, Nanami would do everything in his power to make sure he finished work on time and returned home as soon as possible. He used to look forward to the end of the workday because he hated working. But now he looked forward to the end of the workday because he got to see you.

As a jujutsu sorcerer, Nanami knew he couldn’t take anything for granted. Any amount of time spent with you was absolutely precious to him. So he wanted to make sure to maximize that amount of time as much as possible.

Nanami leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You blinked.

Huh?

Did he say…?

Wait, did you say....?

Your eyes widened in realization as you covered your mouth in shock.

Nanami said he loved you.

And you immediately said you loved him back.

The words had slipped right out of your mouth without you even realizing it.

“Enjoy your day off,” Nanami said nonchalantly before exiting the apartment. The door gently closed shut behind him.

When Nanami arrived at work, a certain white-haired sorcerer knew something was different about his friend.

“What happened with her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gojo grabbed his phone and dialed a number quickly. “You owe me money, Mei Mei! I won the bet! I told you they would confess their love to each other before the end of the month.”

Nanami clenched his jaw.

Bet?

The sorcerer menacingly stood over Gojo, sword withdrawn and cursed energy swirling around him angrily. “What bet?”

Gojo removed the phone from his ear. Mei Mei could be heard angrily yelling from the device, clearly upset about losing a large sum of money. “Now, now, Nanami. You’re only this angry at me because I’m correct, right? You two finally confessed to each other?”

Nanami took his tie off and wrapped it around his hand.

The white-haired sorcerer threw his head back with a howl of laughter. “I’ll take that as a yes! But before you try to kill me, just know that a) it’s impossible and b) I only agreed to this bet to prove Mei Mei wrong. She didn’t think you had it in you to confess so soon! But I always had faith in you because I’m such a good friend!”

Nanami took a menacing step forward towards Gojo, but the sound of his phone chiming stopped his advance. Gojo took that as a sign to escape with his loud laughter still echoing in the hallways.

With a sigh, Nanami unlocked his phone to read the text from you.

You: Wanted to say I love you ♡

You: Just in case you didn’t hear earlier

You: But I’m pretty sure you did...

You: I just want to be sure

You: Anyways I’ll see you later :)

You: Miss you already

You: I'll try not to destroy your apartment

You: Ok sorry I'll stop bothering you now

He couldn’t wait to come home to you tonight.

#nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami smut #kento nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #mine #n/sfw

530 notes · View notes

sfb123 · 3 years

Note

I just read your drunk Liam fic and I just HAD to send you some prompts!!! From the prompt list you hyperlinked 9, 16, and 17 maybe? (Preferably liamxriley) pretty plz?* insert puppy dog eyes🥺*

Well… since you inserted puppy dog eyes…

I wanted to try to incorporate all three of these into one story, which actually worked out really well. Then, the issue came of how to make that apply to Liam and Riley. Luckily, my current binge obsession is the 90′s sitcom Mad About You, and there was an episode the other night that set a lightbulb off in my head, so this fic is loosely based on that episode.

Prompts:

“We should grab coffee together sometime.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“You need a lift?”

(Prompt pulled from this list. Feel free to send me more!)

Word Count: 1,431

Warnings: Adult language, mild innuendo

A/N: Thank you @phoenixrising308 for pre-reading. Your kindness and support are unparalleled, and I love you dearly.

Also a thank you to @txemrn for dealing with my unnecessary back and forth about this moodboard. I ended up going with it, even though we were both so wishy washy about it.

A/N 2: This is my third prompt story this week, I’m going to take a break and quietly write by myself for a while. I’ll continue to work on the asks I have received, and please please feel free to send more. I’m having so much fun! I just don’t want to bombard you all, so I’m going to start pacing my posting. When I finish a piece, I just get so excited when I finish something that I want to show you all so badly!

***

Liam and Riley sat across from each other at the table, sharing the piece of cake that sat between them. They were in New York visiting Riley’s family for a few days, and her mother had insisted that Eleanor spend the night, so the royal couple was taking full advantage of their child-free night, wrapping up the evening with dinner at one of Riley’s favorite restaurants.

“Hey, check that out.” Riley tipped her head toward the bar, where a man was approaching a woman who was sitting alone at the bar. “He’s going to shoot his shot and try to pick her up.”

“How do you know?” Liam asked, watching as the woman nodded, the man immediately sitting down beside her.

“I worked in a bar long enough, I can read the body language and tell you exactly what’s going to happen.”

He turned to his wife, a skeptical expression on his face. “Prove it.”

“Wow, you don’t even believe your own wife. I’m wounded.” She placed her hand over her heart in mock devastation. “Fine, I hope you saved room after that cake, because you’re about to eat your words.”

Riley went on to explain what each was saying to the other, and accurately predicted each move that was made. Liam was so impressed that part of him felt like she may have hired these people specifically to act out this scene.

“Now watch, he’s going to pull out his phone and try to get her to put her number in.” She said, as the man reached into his back pocket.

“Is he going to get it?” Liam couldn’t help but be invested in the story that his wife was narrating for him.

“She’s going to give him a number, but see how she’s already almost standing up?” Liam nodded, waiting with baited breath for her to continue, “She’s going to give him a fake number, and then leave immediately. She doesn’t want to reject him to his face.”

“That’s cold.”

“It’s life, we’ve all done it.” Riley replied nonchalantly.

Liam’s gaze snapped to face her. “You’ve given men fake numbers before?”

She nodded and shrugged. “Lucky for you. You never know, I could have ended up suckered into marrying one of those creeps. Or like locked in their basement or something.”

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I consider myself very lucky for that.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

“Oh oh, here we go, look!” Riley brought his attention back to the bar where the woman was shaking the man’s hand. “Ooooh, not even a courtesy hug. Game over, dude.” They watched the woman exit the restaurant, as the man started typing on his phone. “He’s sending a text to the number she gave. It either won’t be delivered, or he’ll get a reply from someone who is most definitely not that woman.”

“That poor man. He just wanted to find love.”

Riley sighed, shaking her head. “Ahh my sweet, romantic king, your naiveté is so heartwarming. That man is just looking to get laid.” She laughed, “For all the normal experiences you missed out on, aren’t you glad that you never had to pick up women at bars?” She paused for a second. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Liam laughed, his expression quickly turning serious. “Actually, I kind of wish I could have had the opportunity. I think I would have been good at it.” Riley arched a brow at him. “I mean it, I got you to quit your life and fly all the way to Europe because of one night, didn’t I?”

“Touché.” She drummed her fingers against the table in a brief moment of thought, “But can lightning strike twice?”

“What do you mean?”

“Pick me up. I’ll go sit at the bar, you come over and shoot your shot. No social season, no friends, no boxy work uniform. Just a regular guy picking up a regular girl.”

Liam smirked at the proposition. “You’re on.”

Riley left the table and took a seat at the far end of the bar. Once she was seated he put down some money to cover their dinner, and made his way to the bar. “Excuse me miss, is this seat taken?”

She looked up, smiling politely and shaking her head, motioning with her hand for him to have a seat.

“I’m Liam.” He extended his hand.

“Riley. Nice to meet you Liam.” She placed her hand in his, and he brought it to his lips. “A hand kiss instead of a shake, bold move. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, I actually just moved to the states from Europe.”

The bartender approached and took their orders. Liam instructed him to open a tab to cover himself and Riley. He took Liam’s card and stepped away to make their drinks.

“So, why is a beautiful woman like yourself sitting here all alone?” He asked once they were alone again.

Riley tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at the bar, playing up her role. “You’re sweet. I uh… I was supposed to be meeting someone, but I think they stood me up.”

“Well, their loss is my gain.” As the bartender set down their drinks, Liam lifted his glass in Riley’s direction. “A toast,” He waited for Riley to raise her glass before he continued, “To the missteps of old friends, which allow the opportunity to make new ones.”

“So we’re friends now?” Riley asked as she tapped her glass against Liam’s. “That’s awfully presumptuous.”

“Well, we’ve only just met. I’m hoping that perhaps we could get to know each other and see where the evening takes us.”

Riley agreed, and they began with some small talk. Riley stuck to her pre-Cordonia life, while Liam had done a pretty good job of coming up with a non-Royal backstory. They sat there talking, and drinking and ‘getting to know’ each other. Riley was impressed with Liam’s subtle flirting skills and decided that he was right, he would have been pretty good at this had he been given the chance.

The lights came up, and Liam’s bill was dropped on the bar in front of him. “It looks like they’re closing up.” He said as he reviewed the receipt, signing his name at the bottom. “This was a lot of fun Riley, I would like to see you again. We should grab coffee together sometime.”

“I actually don’t drink coffee, I think it’s gross.”

“Oh.” Riley smiled to herself at the disappointment in his voice.

“I would like to see you again, though.” She reassured him.

He looked up at her and smiled. “Could I take you to dinner, maybe?”

“Dinner would be nice.”

“Great!” He noticed the annoyed expression on the bartender's face, they were officially the last customers in the bar. “We should probably go. I’ll walk you home.”

“I actually have a car waiting for me outside.” He dropped his head, again disappointed by the rejection. “You need a lift?”

He smiled widely, standing from his seat. “I’d like nothing more.”

He offered his arm, she slid off the stool and linked hers through his. They exited the restaurant, and were greeted by Bastien, standing in front of their SUV. Before the guard could reach the door handle, Liam released Riley’s arm and jogged ahead, opening Riley’s door for her.

“Such a gentleman.” She smiled coyly as she slid into the backseat. He smiled and got in after her.

“Back to the hotel, your majesties?” Bastien asked as he entered the driver’s side.

“Yes please.” Riley answered.

Liam looked at her curiously. “Assuming I’m going to come home with you, bold move.”

She laughed. “You don’t have to come, but I promise you’ll have fun if you do.” Riley said in a sultry tone, closing the distance between the two of them.

“Riley…” Liam’s voice was just above a whisper as she leaned in, finally pressing her lips to his. They pulled back breathless from their kiss, their eyes remained closed as they rested their foreheads together. “I guess lighting can strike twice.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the second time I picked you up in a bar, and the second time you kissed me first.” He grinned triumphantly.

Riley leaned back, laughing as her eyes met Liam’s. “I guess that means you win?”

“Great, let’s go back to the hotel so I can collect my prize.” He brought his hand to her cheek and pulled her in, kissing her again.

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @bbrandy2002 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emersynwrites @emkay512 @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @pixie88 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @shewillreadyou @sincerelyella @sweatyrysconnoisseur @tessa-liam @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612 @neotericthemis

Liam:

@amandablink @ao719 @yourmajesty09

One Shots:

@bebepac @darley1101

#choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #choices the royal finale #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #trr #trh #trf #play choices #choices stories you play #liam x mc #liam x riley #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trh fanfic #trh fandom

112 notes · View notes

hermitdyke · 3 years

Note

Please do go off about metanarratives and colaborative storytelling in LL if you want king, my analisys loving heart is curious and interested

Anon thank you so much I was really unsure to share this. Warning for 3L and LL spoilers.

3rd Life and by extension, Last Life is a great example of a Metanarrative and an Emergent Narrative. The definition used of metanarrative for this is “An overarching account or interpretation of events and circumstances that provides a pattern or structure for people’s beliefs and gives meaning to their experiences”. An Emergent Narrative is “any video game storyline that is not written into the game by its developers, but emerges from the player’s interactions with various gameplay subsystems”.

Taking these definitions and placing it in the context of a collaborative Lets-Play series with multiple creators recording and taking part, allows us to analyze a complete storyline and find relevancy and meaning to the things the characters do/say/own, even if seemingly inconsequential from the start.

Multiple Perspectives and Metanarrative

The collaboration of 14 and 17 creators for each series is crucial in understanding how the story functions as it does. The individual’s viewing of a single point of view or POV of any single player reveals an amount of new information, interactions, and conflicts. The viewer’s knowledge of the single character’s experiences is about the same. When viewing multiple perspectives, the story expands significantly, showing different relationships between everyone and provides context to events that one may not have seen in the single POV.

For example, in viewing Impulse’s finale episode for 3rd Life, viewers may be confused or lost on why Bdubs attacked and took Impulse’s final life over a clock that Scar had given him. If the viewer had not seen Bdub’s first episode, they would not have realized the relevance between Bdubs and Scar with a clock, being that one was given to him at the very beginning from Scar during an early mining session. Viewers would also not know unless they had viewed Scar’s finale that the clock that was given to Bdubs was taken off of Impulse after losing his yellow life.

Immediately, the lack of viewership on multiple perspectives limits the scope on why the event is relevant, and the viewer may find the story ending dissatisfying, when in fact it is incredibly false. The cross-analysis of perspectives and events gives meaning to this otherwise simple event and forms a narrative from a simple item in the game- an Emergent Narrative.

Emergent Narratives, Lives, and Boogeymen

The term “subsystems” in the definition of Emergent Narratives is another way of describing a game’s mechanics. 3rd Life and Last Life differs from vanilla Minecraft in that they’re playing in a limited life, hardcore system, with the random threat of the Boogeyman and a proximity voice-mod. Without these, the narrative would be dramatically different, although it is possible to form an Emergent Narrative using vanilla Minecraft (DSMP!Eret’s Betrayal is a popular example). Because of these features and players interacting using these features, a narrative emerges from what in any casual Lets Play, could be considered a “bit”. This is what makes 3rd Life and Last Life stand out.

In 3rd Life, an emergent narrative is formed when Ren asks Martyn to kill him, despite Martyn being green and him being yellow. Ren’s use of the red life mechanic provided him a way to protect Renchanting under the threat and pressure of Scar. Ren (the player) judged being able to attack anyone at will overruled the safety of having multiple lives, and that he now poses as a new threat to the server. They also use a vanilla mechanic in renaming the Red Winter axe so all members could recognize their newfound power and creating a desirable item in their alliance. In “proving his loyalty”, Martyn and Ren’s storyline really kicks off and starts to conflict with the other members as a new power on the server.

A recent example in Last Life is from Scar’s perspective and goes to show just how possible it is that Last Life can/will follow a similar route as its counterpart. Bdubs in his first episode asks Etho, “if you were the Boogeyman and I died to a mob in here, would you be like, ‘man”, is that a consideration you’d make?”, “..like I missed my chance, should’ve taken them when I could. (Timestamp: Bdubs Last Life Episode 1, 17:20-17:38)

This is ironic, considering that Bdubs at the time was the Boogeyman. An episode later, one of the two boogeymen of the session, Joel leads Lizzie into a trap, getting in a few hits, only to fail and lose a life himself. The damage that he dealt to Lizzie weakened her was only after killed by a mob, and brings the scenario Bdubs suggested into reality.

Without the use of the limited lives, Boogeyman system, and the limited Enchanting table resource, this narrative thread would not have worked. And in the Metanarrative of the story, unless the viewers both viewed Bdub’s and Joel/Lizzie’s perspectives, they would not have found relevancy in this scenario.

Lack of Script

The most important part of the Metanarrative and Emergent Narrative is that no one knows that these events are important or are going to amount to something in the end. It is the viewer’s knowledge and creators’ forethought of the series to see the narrative emerge from just a couple of friends playing a video game and starting a war, to developed characters with an overarching storyline in a limited episode run. At the start, none of the stories was intentional. The individual’s interpretation of the events and forming these connections between one or more perspectives is the real storyline, and if the creator wants to support this discovered story, they can (Martyn and Scott’s 3L endings).

A great example of this inability to script events is in Bdubs’ 3rd Lift perspective. In his first episode, he passes by a cliff face with a pond below. As he approaches and looks down the cliff, he says, “Nobodies against each other, y’know, it’s just kinda hanging out.” As he passes by and down the hill, “Eventually, once we get down lower, like once you’re on your third life, I think then its vengeance time.” (Timestamp: Bdubs 3L Episode 1, 12:41- 12:51)

Because of his experiences and the events unfolding in 3rd Life, the irony is not lost when he is killed just at the bottom of the exact same cliff by Grian and Scar as revenge. These seemingly irrelevant events in the moment form patterns across the entire series, with some underdeveloped locations, suddenly becoming relevant. A seemingly irrelevant moment is now much darker and holds so much more meaning to the character.

What does this mean for Last Life’s story? Is there an Emerging Metanarrative?

Narratives can be found anywhere, and in collaboratively playing an open-world sandbox game, there’s almost no avoiding it. With the start of Last Life, any of these seemingly casual conversations or collected items could have any sort of meaning in the future. This happened in Scar’s episode this week where he worries that he’ll drop from 5 to 1 life and get boogeyman “Oh no- we’re gonna lose all of our lives, aren’t we? We have five lives and by the end of this I’m gonna be a red life.”(Timestamp: Scars LL Episode 2, 4:54-4:59)

Only in the end, for both him and Joel to be Boogeymen, and for Joel to drop to red and lose his alliance with Scar. The catastrophe of the episode essentially avoided Scar, even though he was constantly at the forefront of the conflict. These small off comments, seemingly inconsequential are now made relevant and active conflicts between the characters.

And there’s plenty more of these events across 3rd Life, and predicting what is to come is nearly impossible (though I do have my own ideas).

-Comments made towards Etho’s tree and wool base, only for both to be burned multiple times, and all of Etho’s deaths being related to fire.

-Martyn to BigB in early episodes, wanting to track down Ren and their relationship and building of Renchanting/Dogwarts

(Personal theory- there are currently 3 wither skulls on the last life server, belonging to Grian, Etho, and Pearl/Scott. Currently, they are irrelevant, but there are THREE WITHER SKULLS, with the entire server having easy access to soulsand.)

#3rd life smp #last life smp #last life smp spoilers #3rd life smp spoilers #emerging metanarratives is such an interesting concept to me

32 notes · View notes

canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 09 first part

(Masterpost) (More Canary Funsies)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

This episode features so many eternal minutes of zombie shambling that I thought I could fit everything into a single post. HA HA HA HA nope.

Zombie Temple

The trio do their best to fend off the not-zombies in the temple. Lan Wangji tells Wei Wuxian that he can’t go carving them up because they’re not actually dead, and drops a callback to their very first meeting at the gate of Cloud Recesses, when Wei Wuxian caught his attention with his pillowy lips comment on the not-dead cultivator.

Lan Wangji: You said it in that golden moment that will be seared into my memory for eternity, where I heard your voice and laid eyes on your angelic face and lost my heart forever, remember? Come on, babe, it was our very first zombie! How baked were you?

Wei Wuxian: I jerk off to the sword-fighting memory, not the zombie memory, you weirdo.

Nie Huaisang’s fear of the definitely not undead has apparently gotten him the rest of the way over his fear of Lan Wangji, because he’s now yelling “Lan-Xiong!” right along with “Wei-Xiong!” as he struggles. Note that although he later mentions that his fan is made of some fancy metal, we don’t see any evidence that he wants to fight with a fan any more than he does with a blade. I don’t hate anyone’s fan-fighting NHS headcanon, but my take is that he just isn’t a physical fighter, and that’s ok.

This is a good time to remember that our entire experience of the Nie clan so far in this story is 1. Clever but hopelessly combat-unready tiny artiste Nie Huaisang 2. Quietly helpful, absurdly pretty sidekick Meng Yao.

We don’t know yet that Nie Huasang’s gege and Meng Yao’s sugar daddy is literally the toughest motherfucker in the entire cultivation world. But his friends do! Which makes me love these dynamics even more, because not one of them criticizes Nie Huaisang for being the person he is.

(more after the cut!)

Never Let Me Go

This scene is where Wei Wuxian gives his tacit consent to being used as the eventual agent of Nie Huaisang’s vengeance....ok not really.

But he does make it clear what Nie Huaisang should do when he’s in a pickle. And NHS doesn’t forget things.

Priorities

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji isn’t nearly as patient as Wei Wuxian, and he drops a silence spell on Nie Huaisang basically out of annoyance. It’s not like they’re trying to be sneaky.

Lan Wangji: How about you have an exquisitely crafted ceramic cup of shut the fuck up?

Flute Girl

Wen Qing comes to the rescue by summoning all of the not-zombies, who happen to be her extended family, to come toast some marshmallows.

She’s another person who unwisely demonstrates, where Wei Wuxian can hear her, the power of flutes over zombies.

This move doesn’t seem to do anything important but it looks cool.

Brother Dynamic: Bad. Really Bad.

Jiang Cheng shows up in the temple and trolls everyone, because this is a great time for childish antics. Wei Wuxian is super happy to see him and runs over to hug him, which earns him a shoulder slam.

This is a regular part of their body language with each other. Wei Wuxian covers his hurt reaction very, very quickly, with a smile that doesn’t involve very much of his face.

Wei Wuxian is so good at pretending his feelings aren’t hurt, he probably convinces himself.

Then he gives a too-honest answer when Jiang Cheng accuses him of...daring to enjoy himself, basically.

That’s more truth than Jiang Cheng was looking for, and he raises a hand to Wei Wuxian, who hides behind Nie Huaisang. This move is interesting because on one level it’s just clowning; obviously Nie Huaisang can’t protect WWX from anything, and WWX doesn’t need protection from Jiang Cheng.

WWX can easily beat JC in a fight, as he’s let us know before. On another level, this retreat signals WWX’s harmlessness, his childlike-ness, in a semiotic dance that has been playing out for over a decade between the brothers. NHS is taking on Jiang Yanli’s role in the choreography, this time.

All of this troubling hostility doesn’t make Jiang Cheng a bad person. He’s young and he’s still under his parents’ control and subject to their abuse at home. It takes time to develop mindfulness about this stuff and learn to treat people beneath you differently than the way you are treated.

Jiang Cheng isn’t ready for that yet, any more than he is ready to say out loud that he cares about his brother.

Leave My Boyfriend Out of It

This interaction is noteworthy for Wei Wuxian defending Lan Wangji to his brother, before Jiang Cheng even has a chance to blame Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian says that following Lan Wangji was his own idea, and then gives LWJ the sweetest, warmest smile.

Lan Wangji also gets a pair of totally unearned, delighted smiles of thanks from his two besties when he lifts the silence spell on Nie Huaisang.

Being mildly dickish all the time works out fine, I guess, if you only make friends with people whose brothers are legendary grouches.

Grilling Wen Qing

Wei Wuxian finally decides he’s had enough of Wen Qing’s crap, and gets slightly aggressive in questioning her.

He’s not actually roughing her up but he is approaching her as a near-enemy for the first time, rather than as someone who wants to be her friend. Once Wen Qing tells him what’s up and agrees to a sort of temporary alliance, he goes back to being his normal slightly awkward self with her.

I don’t romance-ship WQ and WWX, except maybe as corpse-mountain era FWB, but I do like their chemistry. And their friendship is really refreshing and interesting, based on sharing goals and working together, not on emotional intimacy. It’s nice to see people with a lot of barriers around their hearts, building a strong, trusting bond without having to actually open up very much.

The idea of perfect sharing between people is a nice one, but it’s pretty alien to many of us who are recovering from trauma, or people who just aren’t wired that way, and it’s good to see other models of friendship and love.

Wei Wuxian, at Lan Wangji’s direction, parts the Red Sea drops a cage on the other 3 cultivators before going to hunt the dire birdy.

Jiang Chang is, predictably, pissed off about it, in spite of Wei Wuxian’s “you’re good at this” parting words, and says, according to the subtitles, “you bastard!”

“Bastard” is a pretty specific epithet, in English. In the current century, it’s generally used to mean “asshole,” more or less. But it still does carry the meaning “of illegitimate birth,” and since The Untamed is often concerned with legitimacy it seems pretty strong for JC to use with someone who is rumored to be his own Dad’s by-blow.

Let’s have a look and see what he really is calling him... 你混蛋 = Nǐ húndàn = “you bastard” per Google translate. Wow, Jiang Cheng, you really went there, huh.

Wen Granny

Wen Qing and the others in the golden cage watch as the not-zombies try half-heartedly to get to them. Wen Qing is super sad about it, as opposed to the two guys who are just annoyed (Jiang Cheng) or scared (Nie Huaisang).

The first time I saw this, it was just - oh, Wen Qing sympathizes with this poor random woman, she feels bad about what's happening, this is to show us she has a heart.

Now though -- that's HER granny. Maybe not her bio-grandma but clearly a granny of her clan, who she knows well, who later cares for A-Yuan when he's a child, so may very well have cared for A-Qing and A-Ning when they were small, too. Owie.

Dire Bird Hunting

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian run off to hunt the smoke bird together. They are quickly trapped in cool-looking fog. Kudos to the Director of Photography.

They spend some time being confused and also being peak Wangxian 1.0 as they help each other out.

Lost in the fog and unable to summon talismans, Wei Wuxian is mainly about checking on Lan Wangji, making sure he’s ok, making sure he’s near. He doesn’t spare any worry for himself.

(We get a rare instance of seeing an actually glowing sword here, instead of just having a character say “I saw the beams of swords!” to save money on VFX.)

Lan Wangji, meanwhile, understands the mental attack they are under, explains it to Wei Wuxian with only a little snark about Wei Wuxian’s overly busy mind, and teaches him how to handle it.

Lan Wangji is super disciplined in mind, body, and sword - his fight moves don’t change, really, throughout his life, but he gets better and better at execution. Wei Wuxian isn’t exactly undisciplined, but he’s super creative and busts out a new skill in nearly every encounter. Lan Wangji sees this and is learning to make use of it.

After Lan Wangji helps Wei Wuxian overcome the confusion that is blocking his talisman use, he tells him which talisman to use.

This isn’t a talisman that LWJ uses himself, it’s just that he’s paying very close attention to WWX’s battle moves, and has a great memory, so he knows which ones will work. In a pretty short timespan he’s moved from thinking like a solo swordsman to thinking as part of a team with a broad range of battle skills. Very soon, he’ll be starting to use Wei Wuxian’s talismans himself.

WWX takes a hit from the flying death chain, but uses it to his advantage, as in so many encounters. He’s not just self-sacrificing--he is definitely that--but he’s also a chess player, knowing how to use a sacrifice or an injury to his advantage. Cue Lan Wangji being worried for the entire rest of his life.

Part Two is here!

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #wangxian #chen qing ling #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #wen qing

549 notes · View notes

stanknotstark · 3 years

Text

Odinson M.D. (Loki x reader) Pt. 1

I’m excited for this series honestly. I’m doing a lot of research so I write this medically correct tho, if yall see anything wrong don’t be afraid to tell me ^^

Summary: Y’all wanted a House AU so here it is. Loki is a doctor who keeps most people at bay with his sharp wit and sarcasm. He doesn’t understand the need for romantic ploys and casual human discussion. He thrives in the hospital, trying to figure out the unknown, even if his methods turn a bit morally ambiguous at times. That’s why he has Thor and Frigga to keep him in line although he would argue he has no need for it. You just happen to be a doctor on tenure under Loki’s tutelage along with Steve Rogers and Peter Parker. Can you convince the jaded doctor you’re just what he needs to keep him on his toes?

Loki feels the, what had started as pin pricks now, full blown boredom eating away at his overactive mind. He folds sticky notes, from his rolling chair, into small balls and flicks them over to his brother, Thor, who stands fiddling with a broken, plastic Santa sitting on the desk they hang around. Thor proudly wears his white lab coat on top of a nice plaid button down and brown, pressed slacks. Loki prefers to stick to his more casual clothes, if not a bit fashionable for casual, for a doctor. He wears a black cashmere sweater with gray, pressed slacks, a nice pair of oxfords to finish his style. It’s enough to keep him warm during the winter season.

Christmas, such a mainstream holiday. Loki abhors this season what with all the festive cheer and decorations that litter NYC. You can’t walk two feet without being guilted into giving money to the people who stand on corners with bells for the Salvation Army. You can’t buy something nice without a cashier smiling at you, as if all knowing, and asking who you’re giving this gift to with cheerfulness in their high pitched voices. What he especially hates is that Odin expects him to show up to the family dinner every Christmas, seeing as Thor has a wife and has to spend half his time with her family. Loki is the black sheep that’s expected to pick up where his brother has neglected. All in all, Loki would demolish this one holiday from existence if he had the even the slightest chance.

The only good thing about being a doctor was that meant he could get away from most of the holiday by working through it. He couldn’t always escape the dinners seeing as his mother, Frigga, was of administration and Dean of Medicine on his floor. Not only did that hinder him but his father owned the hospital, so he was at a disadvantage, if only by a bit.

“We are condemned to useless labor.” Loki sighs out, his fingers playing with another yellow sticky note, crushing it into a ball.

“Fourth circle of hell,” Thor replies with a roll of his eyes as a paper ball launches towards him, hitting him in the cheek before falling to the ground. “Charting goes a lot faster when you eliminate all classic poetry, brother.” Thor says lightly. A suggestive twitch of his lips all Thor gives to a bored Loki.

Loki takes time from making paper balls to look over at the pile of charts next to him, sitting on the clinic’s lobby desk, waiting for his attention. He’s sure if the charts came to life they would resemble a dog, desperate for attention, wagging its tail with excitement when he finally looks at it. “Writing down what we already know to be read by nobody,” Loki brings his attention back to making another paper ball, completely ignoring the fact that Thor had rolled his eyes so hard he probably has a headache. “Pretty sure Dante would qualify that as useless,” Loki says lightly, a frown on his lips.

“You’re two weeks behind on your charting!” Thor says with exasperation, stopping his fiddling with the Santa to look at Loki as if he had offended Thor personally.

Loki flicks another ball at Thor, however he misses his target and, it sails past Thor, hits Frigga on the chest whom had just walked into the clinic. She watches the paper fall to the ground, giving Loki a look of disappointment. The man gives his mother an innocent smile from his seat. “Oops! I missed.”

“Are you eight years old?” The poised woman asks with a squint in her eyes as she walks over to the side of the desk Loki and Thor reside at. She picks up one of Loki’s charts and reads it with flickering eyes.

“Could an eight year old do this?” Loki asks, catching Frigga’s eyes, and sticks his tongue out at his mother who rolls her eyes. What is it about Loki that causes everyone to roll their eyes? Something he’ll never get the answer to, not because he can’t but because he doesn’t care enough to find the answer when it’s so painfully obvious.

Loki’s mother lifts Loki’s chart, she had picked up, a little higher as if trying to garner Loki’s attention, after she had finished reading through it, and looks at him with frustration. “You have a patient in exam one, Loki.”

Loki settles further into the rolling chair, throwing the pad of sticky notes on the desk, bringing his hands together over his stomach and lacing his fingers. Loki embodies the epitome of comfort and relaxation. He shrugs. “Yes but see I’m off at twelve and it’s already five off...” He shakes his head minutely with a look that says ‘Not much I can do’. He’s rather hoping his mother will let him off the hook this one time. He knows she has a soft spot for him and takes full advantage of that. Thor remains quiet on the matter, playing with the plastic Santa that’s supposed to sing when you press its button.

“She’s been waiting for you since eleven.” Frigga says with finality. Setting his chart down, Loki swears he could hear a gravel slamming down, and then she leaves but not without a pointed look at Loki. This meant Loki isn’t getting away this time. He sits there with his lips pursed and a frown etched into his eyebrows as he watches her retreating form.

“Melancholy without hope, which circle is that?” Loki pointedly asks Thor who looks at him with a sympathetic look only causing Loki to scoff and rolls his eyes as he stands, grabs his cane, and makes his way towards exam room one.

Loki limps into the room, already conscientious about his gold and green cane, making sure it doesn’t hit the wall as he slips into the exam room.

Looking back Loki doesn’t regret the choices his made on the cane. The man liked attention from the right people. He hates most casual people seeing as he usually finds them boring, predictable, and the need for small talk not something he takes much joy from. The cane definitely stood out and was the starter of conversation for common man that passed him by, unfortunately. This wasn’t enough to make Loki regret his ostentatious picks on his cane though.

The cane itself is light but durable. The stabilizer at the bottom had four anti-slip feet, covered by a wide quad base, all black and shiny. The cane, in all its glory, was emerald green, specifically requested by Loki, and had snakes engraved in the metal base. The snake outline, repeated around the entire cane, were then dusted in gold and, shined pretty and proper when in the sun. The snakes that run from the bottom to the top, run up the cane with open mouths as if devouring the brethren that followed up the last snake. When they reach the top of the cane, the handle’s edge, they stopped. The handle itself was covered in pure gold. The inside of it was carbon so it was lighter to carry but still very durable. The handle was fashioned after the head of a Black Mamba. Sleek and slim but one of the deadliest, most venomous snakes in the world. A symbol of Loki’s true power, or at least that’s what he told anyone that asks. In all honesty, Loki had picked the Black Mamba head because he thought it looked cute. He had a reputation to uphold, however.

Loki pushes his way into the exam room to find three nuns, one on the medical bed with two nuns on each side. As he closes the door he turns his head so he may let his eyes go wide without the women seeing his exasperated look. He turns his head back after the door is closed and he reins in his emotions.

“Hi, I’m doctor Odinson,” Loki supplies the three women, setting his cane aside in the room and looking up at the women with a small tilt of his lips. “What seems to be the problem?” He asks the woman sitting on the bed.

“Show him your hands, Augustine,” One of the sisters demands of Augustine, the woman on the bed Loki tabs in his head.

As the woman shifts the cloth covering her hands Loki takes the time to pop a pain pill into his mouth, swallowing without water if only because he’s been taking them for years for his disability. The use of the word disability is new, seeing how he didn’t take to the word too kindly in the beginning. As of now, he has accepted it for what it is and calls it as it should be, a disability. Something that may hinder him but does not define who he is or ever shall be.

Sister Augustine lifts her hands in front of her and they shake a bit as she holds them out for Loki to examine. They look raw, red, and as if they’re wet but in reality it’s because they’re covered in an ointment and severe rash. They’re pruned as if they spent too much time in water. When she turns over her hands to show him the palms he notes that they’re also raw and red, but more so and bleeding probably from scratching.

“It looks like stigmata.” The sister on the right of Augustine needlessly announces to Loki, or possibly to no one in particular. The other sister on the left shushes at her. Loki has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at her remark. Of course this ignorant nun would condemn her sister for something as simple as an allergic reaction. She finds the rash to be a form of disgrace on her sister. Typical.

Loki steps forwards, his eyes on her hands, “Must be all the talk around the holy water cooler.” He lightly supplies the three sisters with a joke to break the tension that had risen from the sister’s remark of stigmata. His eyes come to rest on her hands and as he reaches up to hold them in his own says, “You been washing a lot of dishes lately?” Loki glances up at sister Augustine’s aloof face.

“I help out in the kitchen.” Augustine replies.

“Anything new in the kitchen?” Loki asks, trying to pinpoint what’s causing the rash.

“We just got a donation of pots and pans this week.” The nameless nun tells Loki which supplies Loki with an answer for her reaction. Dish soap, pots and pans wouldn’t have caused such a reaction.

“I unpacked and washed them.” Augustin gives Loki, trying to help him out.

“Should have spent your time saving souls,” Loki says, his natural sarcasm coming over him, “It’s easier on the hands.” He says with a face that could be taken as contrite but is actually irony. “This is contact dermatitis. You’re allergic to dish soap.” Loki tells the nuns, his mind bored with how easy this diagnoses is.

As Loki turns to write down his report in the chart one of the nameless nuns speaks up. “Nonsense! We’ve always used that soap, why would it be a problem now?” She asks Loki.

Loki lets his head tilt back as he looks at the ceiling with a playful look on his face. “I’ve been a doctor for years,” He looks at the nun who spoke up, “Why do I have to keep assuring people I know what I’m doing?” He asks rhetorically. Not only talking about the nuns, Loki thinks of the many times where he has had to convince his own mother, and brother, that he knew what he was doing, going so far as to proving it.

“A person can become allergic to substances they’ve had repeated and prolonged exposure to.” Loki explains, his eyebrow raising perfectly, as if asking if the sisters had any other remarks to make before he looks down at the chart for Augustine to write his report real quick.

Loki then makes his way to the cabinet and picks out a small box inside of it. “Good news is, free samples!” He gives a fake smile, and excited tone, to the nuns. “I’m giving you an antihistamine to stop the allergic reaction,” He explains his process. “Take one every eight hours, might make you sleepy, and get some over the counter Cortisone cream, for the itchiness.” Loki looks at sister Augustine to make sure she understood his words, nodding at her when she gives an understanding nod, then handing her two pills from the box he had pulled from the cabinet.

“Thank you, doctor.” Augustine says with a small smile and nod.

“Want me to get some water?” Loki asks the women.

“I have some tea!” A nameless nun says, grabbing her thermos and giving it to Augustine.

Loki nods at the nun and backs up to pick up the chart. “Relax for a minute, the pills work pretty fast.” Then he leaves the room thinking he is done for the day in the clinic, thank god.

Loki throws the chart on top of his other charts he had left on the desk with Thor, in the lobby, and sighs as he limps around the desk and to Thor’s side.

“Still out by twelve.” Thor says, more so to grate on Loki’s nerves than anything.

Loki lets it go but replies, “How do you solve the problem of dermatitis.”

“Doctor? I want to thank you for your patience.” A sister says interrupting the conversation Loki was about to have with Thor. One of the sisters from Augustine’s side now stands in the clinic’s lobby with Loki and Thor. Her face showing she genuinely means it.

Loki manages to give Thor a disparaging look when he asks, “She talking to you?” As if shocked Loki was getting any kind of compliment. Loki can’t fault him there, he isn’t used to getting compliments either. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t bask in it but it is a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t know, she’s certainly looking at me...” Loki says back to Thor, shifting his weight from foot to foot in discomfort. He turns, watches, as the sister makes her way over to him, standing a little over a foot away. Enough distance to be comfortable since she is a stranger but a little too close for Loki’s comfort anyways. He hates people, so physical, so sentimental.

“It’s so good to get a secular diagnosis.” The nun offers Loki with a gratified look on her face, her body swaying with her words like she really means them.

Loki feels the frown come over his face and he tilts his head down at the sister.

“The sisters tend to interpret their diagnosis as divine intervention.” The nun explains to a bewildered Loki.

“And you don’t?” Loki asks, his voice not betraying his confusion but it’s definitely there. This sister is very...different from regular nuns, he can already tell. Her ideologies being promulgated so plainly are leaving Loki in an almost disoriented state. “Then you’re wearing an awfully funny hat.” Loki says, his sarcasm coming out to hide his true feelings on this whole conversation. The sister merely tilts her head with a look that says ‘Very funny’.

“Oh boy.” Thor whispers behind Loki. Loki can feel him shifting as if he wants to escape this situation just as much as Loki. “Excuse me.” Thor says grabbing all his charts and reports so he may make a swift exit. Loki glances back at Thor, his face now shifting from its usual neutrality to a look of perplexity and a hint of longing as he wants to leave too. Loki looks back to the sister, hiding his emotions again as she speaks.

“If I break my leg I believe it happened for a reason. I believe God wanted me to break my leg,” The sister says, her face showing nothing short than utter earnestness that almost makes Loki gag. “I also believe he wants me to put a cast on it.” The sister finishes causing Loki’s lips to twitch upwards and forget his brief nausea. He likes her, something no one that truly knew him would take lightly.

“Doctor! Something’s wrong!” The other sister says loudly as she races into the lobby. This breaks the little moment the sister was having with Loki and he stands at attention.

They all make their way back to exam room one with hast in their steps and Loki’s limp.

When Loki enters the room he finds Augustine to be hunched over, rapidly breathing but the air is filled with wheezes as if she can’t get breath into her lungs. Loki quickly tabs this as an asthmatic attack but grabs his stethoscope and brings it up to her chest. “Lift up your chin.” He demands softly, letting the stethoscope land on her chest when she does and moves it from the left to the right side listening to her lungs and heart as she panically breathes in faster.

“Sister you’re having an asthma attack, I need you to relax,” Loki drops the stethoscope from her chest, taking it from his ears, and turns to the drawers in the room, “Roll up her sleeve, please.” He demands of the sister next to him. He quickly picks up an syringe from the drawer he opened and turns back to sister Augustine. “I’m going to give you epinephrine,” He explains. “It will open your lungs and help you breathe.”

Loki uncaps the shot, by mouth, and quickly sticks the sister’s arm, injecting the liquid components of the epinephrine into her upper arm with fluid movements as if he’s done this a thousand times before, because he has.

Loki looks up at sister Augustine to assess the situation. The cap of the needle still in his mouth which he lightly grinds around with his teeth, almost nervous but not quite.

Everything is quiet for a moment. Loki takes this time to remove the needle from the sister’s arm and replace it with a cotton ball which he presses to her skin with moderate strength to stop any blood flow that may have followed the intrusion.

“What happened?” One of the sisters ask.

Loki foregoes the answer to that question to ask his own, “Did she take the pill?” He looks at the sister next to him, the one that had warned him of the situation and had stayed behind with sister Augustine. The one that had called it stigmata.

“Yes.” She says in a tone that betrays confusion and defensiveness.

“It’s an allergic reaction.” Loki explains ignoring the sister’s emotions at his question.

“She’s allergic to an anti-allergy medicine?” The same sister asks in an incredulous tone now.

Sister Augustine sits there taking in small mouthfuls of air, as if she now understands breathing is a commodity. Her body is still hunched over as she grabs at the medical bed with a white knuckled grip. Loki looks at her sympathetically. “How are you feeling?” He asks thinking about what variations he can use to treat her allergic reaction on her hands now that the blood rushing experience is over. “I’ll put you on some steroids instead.” He decides out loud, capping the syringe he used and throwing it away in the designated red safety box.

“Is my heart supposed to be feeling so funny?” Sister Augustine asks breathlessly, Loki watching as she brings a hand up to grab at her chest.

“It’s called adrenaline, makes the heart beat fast.” Loki says flippantly but puts two fingers on her pulse point on her wrist just to check if it’s something worth looking into. Loki looks at Augustine with concern, his eyes flitting around the room in thought, “But not this fast.”

Sister Augustine takes in a deep breath, wheezing again.

“Get a nurse, please.” He tells one of the sisters in a calm but pressing tone.

Sister Augustine leans into Loki’s body with a whimper and he grabs her so he may lightly rest her on the bed in a supine position. He leans over her watching her and trying to figure out what’s wrong, what could possibly be causing this, and how to fix it, fast.

“Somebody help!” Loki hears the nun call outside the room.

His attention is diverted when sister Augustine passes out. He quickly puts the stethoscope in his ears and puts the diaphragm on her chest, checking for her heart beat first, then her lungs. There is no comforting beat to be heard and her breathing has completely stopped as if it never existed, pulling this situation from a simple allergic reaction to something far, far more serious than Loki had anticipated.

“Somebody get in here!” Loki yells out frustrated no one has answered their calls for help. Finally a nurse in blue scrubs comes in, realizing the situation is of immediate emergency and looks at Loki so she may help.

“Call a code and charge up the defibrillator, she’s got no pulse.” He says speedily, starting to perform CPR on sister Augustine. The nurse flees from the room in record time to grab a defibrillator and yell at someone to call a code blue.

Loki manages CPR for a few minutes until the defib team comes in and takes over. They only barely manage to bring sister Augustine back to life.

Loki stands at the doorway, the two other sister next to him praying, he bites at his thumb. His mind is racing with the need for an answer. What caused this? What was he missing? It’s an allergic reaction, there’s no doubt about that, nonetheless he can’t figure out why everything he tried sent her into further shock. She couldn’t possibly have been allergic to everything he gave her, antihistamine and epinephrine. There is a factor here that he doesn’t know about, something is missing, and he would figure it out if it was the last thing he did.

Loki barely glances at one of the sisters as they take a drink from a thermos before going back to saying their Hail Mary’s.

Tagging (because they showed interest for this series): @rosaline-black @blueberrynonnie

I won’t tag yall in any other posts unless you specify you’d like that! i just wanted you both to know i started it and if you’d still be interested 😊

64 notes · View notes

libra-kirishima · 3 years

Note

Mirio and his wife(he dead ass proposed to y/n at UA graduation) How would Mirio’s dad react to being told he’s going to be a grandpa? I wanna get a cavity from the Fluffy sweet content.Oh oh oh and what if they did the headphone challenge where they tell him word for word while listening to music at a high volume.💕🌸😫✨🌿💜 PLSSS

I'm so glad we all agree that Mirio gets married straight out of high school.

When Mirio proposed to you just seconds after you both graduated, it was assumed by almost all of your classmates that it was because you were pregnant. Only Tamaki knew that Mirio had been saving the money from his work-study to buy you a nice engagement ring since your first date. It was only Tamaki who knew that he purchased that ring almost a year ago and had been hiding it in his sock drawer waiting for the right moment. It was also only Tamaki who knew Mirio wanted to propose at the graduation ceremony.

And he did. The very moment after you both launched your graduation caps into the air, he reached under his robe to pull the ring box from his slacks while you weren't looking. The surprised look on your face when you turned back to him was something Mirio plays back in his head every day. You turned to ask him if he'd want to come back to your dorm after the ceremony, and your eyes were met not with the chest of your boyfriend as you'd expected, but a brilliant ring in a velvet box that you absolutely adored. The tears began to flow before he could even finish his speech about how much he loved you, and couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life loving you.

Fittingly, only Tamaki knew that this wasn't a shotgun wedding, brought on by Mirio unexpectedly getting you pregnant. Though the two of you were completely unaware of this wide held assumption. It took Mirio's father asking when the baby was due to finally dawn on the two of you, several months after the wedding, that most people assumed the marriage was brought on by a baby coming. It was that evening that you and Mirio sat down together and made the decision to wait at least until you were both 25 to think about starting a family.

The positive pregnancy test in your hands at 19 was hardly unexpected, but still a huge surprise. You and he had both been so busy that you had gotten sloppy with your birth control, and the moment you both had an overlapping day off you made the most of it.

"Making the most of it' is such an understatement." You muttered to yourself. "We certainly made something." Though as panicked as you were, when you told your husband the news he was overjoyed. Before you could even finish your sentence, he was lifting you up by your waist and spinning you around. All the stress in you melted away as you saw the excitement in his eyes at the thought of him being a father.

"-We'll have to move to make room for the baby. And I guess that gives us the chance to think about what school we want to send them to and how their school schedule will fit in with our work schedules. I don't want you to put too much stress on yourself so maybe Tamaki will help us. I bet he'll be excited to find out. What color should the nursery be? I don't know if you want to decide that before or after we know the sex of the baby. Is it sexist to color a nursery based on the baby's gender? What about purple or yellow? Oh, or maybe green or orange! What do you want to name them? Is it too early to start thinking about that? And how are we gonna tell our families?" Mirio's rambling stops after that final question and his eyes widen. "Oh my god how are we gonna tell my dad!?"

"Do you think he'll take it poorly?"

"No he seemed really excited last year when he thought you were pregnant."

"Then there's nothing to worry about." You reassured him, prompting him to have a seat. He followed your suggestion and sat himself on one of your dining room chairs. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind and placed a soft kiss to his cheek.

It was four days later that he came up with the idea. Deciding to take a break from looking for a place with two bedrooms, you busied yourself with something else as he aimlessly scrolled through social media.

"That's it!!!" You heard him shout from your place in the kitchen.

"Did you find a place you liked?" You shouted back. He burst into the kitchen to join you.

"No, even better!" He answered, padding over to you with excitement in each step.

"You decided what color you wanted the nursery to be?"

"No, but I have a really strong feeling that it's a boy and I think we should go with blue and yellow."

"And what if it's a girl?" You asked with a small giggle. He froze and allowed himself to think it over.

"Blue is a gender neutral color." He finally responded. You muttered a soft 'good answer', but it was lost as he continued with "But I swear that it'll be a boy. Didn't you say something about a cancer's intuition?"

"Hey that's serious stuff. Don't joke about that." You argued.

"Exactly!" He insisted. "Wait what did I come in here for?" You shrugged your shoulders, which prompted him to leave the kitchen and return to the living room. Shortly thereafter he returned to the exact spot he stood in the kitchen, lost in thought. You could tell he was retracing his steps. "-so then I got excited and came to talk to (y/n) and she asked if I decided what color I wanted the nursery to be- Oh! I can just check my phone!" You laughed to yourself as he pulled out his phone to resume scrolling. He found what he was looking for and brought it over to show you.

A video of an older couple wearing headphones blasting loud music. They were being told by their daughter that they were going to be grandparents, and you watched as they tried to piece together what they were being told. Once the father figured it out, he leaped out of his seat with joy.

"So that's what you want to do with your dad?"

"Yes, please." He answered. "Next week?"

"No." You answered, pointing your finger at him. He pouted at your response, which you elected to disregard. "You will wait until the second trimester and you will like it."

"You can make me wait until the second trimester, but you can't make me like it." He answered. Crossing your arms, you raised one brow at him with a sharp glare. "Fine, I'll like it!" He sighed, causing you to grin.

To Mirio, the first trimester went at a snail's pace. He was eager to meet his baby boy and even more so to tell others about him. He wanted so desperately for these 40 weeks to be over. At the five month mark, he couldn't drive you to your doctor's office fast enough. Not even trying to hide the eagerness in finding out the sex of the baby.

"I told you he was gonna be a boy!" Mirio told you excitedly as you walked back to your car. "See, Cancer intuition!" You laughed at his enthusiasm over correctly guessing the sex of your baby.

"I think that was just wishful thinking." You joked. "You didn't do anything."

"No, I'm definitely psychic."

"Okay then Mister-Psychic-Intuition. Will he be a Virgo or a Libra?"

He tapped his chin as he thought over your question. You knew he wasn't as into this stuff as you were, but he still devoted a lot of effort into his prediction.

"I think he'll be a Leo." He answered as he drove out of the parking lot.

"Do you want to go tell your dad now?" You asked. His eyes lit up at the sound of your question and immediately changed course to his dad's house. "Great!"

Mirio didn't even knock and wait to be let in. He saw the light on, noted that his father was home, and used his key to let the two of you in as quickly as possible.

"Dad!" He called from the doorframe. In all his excitement, he nearly forgot to remove his shoes. Mirio's dad scrambled to his feet from where he was sitting on the couch, believing that his son was in some kind of danger. "No sit back down, we're going to play a game."

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine, don't worry. But sit down, it's game time."

He sat down, but remained both concerned and confused as his son sat across from him, prompting you to do the same.

"How are you?" You asked him.

"Just fine, thank you (Y/N). How about yourself?"

"I'm great, thank you. Do you have any exciting plans for this weekend?"

"Not really. I have errands to run but nothing else on the agenda. What about yourse-"

"I FOUND THEM!" Mirio shouts from upstairs. You hardly thought to ask where he had gone to, instead making polite conversation with his father. Your husband barrelled down the stairs a moment later, triumphantly holding up his old headphones from when he was in high school. "I thought I left them here!" Mirio wastes no time in running him through the rules of the whisper challenge and putting the headphones over his ears with music playing loud enough to block out what you were saying. Mirio looked at you then back at him with a big smile. He and his dad flashed each other a thumbs up.

"Can you hear me?" You asked. No response. "Okay good start." You then turned to Mirio. "Can I film this?" You asked, although you didn't wait for an answer before you pulled your phone out and opened the camera.

"You're going to be a grandparent." Mirio stated, doing his best to annunciate every syllable.

"Do you want spinach?" His dad guessed. Mirio shook his head.

"You're going to be a grandparent." You echoed.

"Shorts? Do you want to wear shorts?"

"You are going to be a grandfather."

"You want me to what?"

Your husband shook his head and decided to take over.

"You are" Mirio stated.

"You are" His dad repeated. You both nodded encouragingly.

"Going"

You both nodded again.

"To be"

"Crazy! You are going crazy." He guessed. Mirio sighed and shook his head.

"You are going to"

"To! You are going to!"

"Be a"

"Be! You are going to be."

"A grandfather." Mirio finished.

"A- a grandfather! You are going to be a grandfather!" You both nodded excitedly. He repeated to himself. "You are going to be a grandfather. You are- I'm going to be a grandfather?" He pulled the headphones off his ears. "I'm going to be a grandfather?"

"You're going to be a grandfather!" Mirio repeated excitedly. You pulled the ultrasound photos from your jacket pocket and handed them to his dad. "In a few months you get to meet your grandson!" He added, voice shaky from holding back tears.

"You're kidding me!" His dad added, holding back tears of his own. "You're not kidding?" You shook your head. He stood up and engulfed you both in a hug, no longer trying to hold back his tears.

"I'm due somewhere between September 13th and September 22nd."

"Although I think the baby will come a couple weeks early." Mirio added with a soft smile.

And just as he predicted earlier that day, he was right.

#did it need to be this long? no ma'am but i did it anyways!#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #toogata mirio #mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #togata mirio #togata mirio x reader #togata x reader #pronouns used: she/her/hers

265 notes · View notes

dustofbrokenheart · 3 years

Text

The Covenant: Lazy, Summer Day

Tyler Simms x Reader

Word Count: 1,650

Summary: Tyler and reader enjoy a day on the water to get away from the heat. Based on this post by @saviorsong which you should all totally check out!

“I called in sick?”

“Yeah, this morning. See? We crossed your name off the schedule and everything.” A finger tapped rapidly on the big whiteboard that had everyone’s name written in dry erase marker.

Sure enough, there was a hastily drawn line going right through the middle of yours.

They really had thought you weren’t coming in. “That’s impossible,” you said confused. “Because I didn’t call in sick.”

“Alright, alright. I believe you,” the supervisor said. “You’re one of the normaler ones that we have and a normal person wouldn’t have driven clear across town when they already had the day off.”

Both of you stood there scratching your heads. Your thoughts were leaning towards this possibly being a dream. You had weird dreams all the time, right? And it wasn’t unlike you to be dreaming of work even when you were off the clock.

There was a good chance you would wake up any second now, still swaddled in bed sheets.

The supervisor had a completely different reaction. “Well, the building ghost strikes again! They must’ve called on your behalf knowing how hard you’ve been working. Just take the day off. We’re covered anyway.”

“Are you sure?” you hesitated. It felt weird taking the day for yourself when you were perfectly able to work. “Since I’m here, I could do—”

“Nope. Enjoy some of this weather. Summer is almost over, you know.”

With that you were ushered out the door and left standing on the concrete sidewalk, not a clue as to what you should do.

There were always things to be done at the apartment. You hadn’t cleaned the bathroom in a while…yikes. Tyler also had his collection of expired leftovers in the fridge that he was terrible about tracking of.

Oh! You could wash the cars, too! Tyler had finally gotten rid of his monstrosity of a Hummer a few summers back in favor of a classic sixties car that Pogue had helped him fix-up. He liked to keep it spotless.

Speaking of his car…you looked up and noticed it parked across the street. And it was definitely his. Not only were there not many of them still out on the roads, but that was clearly Tyler smiling at you in the driver’s seat as he waved you over.

“Were you flagging me down this whole time?” you asked. He nodded with a heavy dose of enjoyment sparkling in those baby blue eyes. “Sorry. It’s been a weird morning.”

“Didn’t expect to have to day off?” Tyler’s smile becoming more pronounced.

“Of course not—wait,” you trailed off in realization. “It was you. You’re the one who called in sick for me!”

He stroked your wrist through the window with his thumb. “You caught me. But don’t be mad, I promise it was for the greater good.”

Greater good? You raised both eyebrows. “And what’s the ‘good’ in question?”

“Weather man predicted we’re supposed to hit high eighties today. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t drag you to the lake house to take advantage of it?”

“That’s a terrible excuse, Ty.”

“Fine,” he admitted with a laugh. “How about you’ve been working this whole summer, and I miss you and want to do something nice for you?”

On the inside you felt yourself vibrate with excitement but you tried to keep it together. You shouldn’t encourage him making plans without you, especially when they disrupted work, but you were a sucker for surprises. “Better,” you admitted with your nose titled up.

And he knew that. Knew that you weren’t really cross with him as he turned the engine over, jolting the car to life with a heavy rumble. “Come on, my lady. I promise that it’ll be fun.”

The lake house in question referred to one of several Simms family properties in Massachusetts, appropriately named for it’s position right next to a small, picturesque lake. The area was naturally beautiful with shimmering water that was encased by tall, shady trees that were a godsend when the sun became too much to handle.

The drive there went like it always did: fast, thanks to a good playlist and easy conversation, and soon Tyler was pulling up to the lake house.

Not wanting him to fixate on the fine dust the gravel kicked up, and how it was dirtying the car, you leaned over the center console to kiss him. It was just long enough to steal his attention.

When his hand cupped the back of your head, you pulled back. “Last one to the dock has to use the tacky orange kayak!” You stuck your tongue out at him as you dashed out of the car and towards the dock.

Unprepared for the challenge, Tyler sputtered as he tried to take his seat belt off with clumsy fingers.

You ran around the outside of the house and dodged trees as best as you could, laughing the whole way. You may have gotten the head start but you could hear the tell tale sounds of the man gaining ground behind you.

The dock was so close you could picture your victory as. Only a few steps more, you would’ve had it.

Then two arms wrapped around your middle in a steel tight grip, halting you in your tracks. A large exhale was forced out of your lungs at the sudden impact.

“No fair,” you whined. Slumping back into his embrace, you turned to look at his smug face. “I can’t match your stupid arm strength.”

Tyler laughed, the argument a familiar one. “We’ve been over this. If you can use the element of surprise, then the element of muscle is fair game.”

That was the agreement but that didn’t mean you couldn’t pout. Not everyone was blessed with good genetics and years of a background in competitive swimming.

“Well, let’s consider this a tie then because I refuse to use that hideous orange boat.”

Tyler hummed, the vibration noticeable against your back. “Nope,” he said. The answer was abrupt and before you could get another word out, you were sailing through the air, lake water rushing to swallow you up.

The shock made your lungs seize up and your limbs flailed in the haze of the foggy water.

Breaking the surface, hair and clothes plastered to your skin you paddled around to glare at him. The effect didn’t have the ferocity you hoped for because he merely but his hands on his knees and laughed so hard it seemed like he might tip over.

Dodging the water you splashed at him, he got the laughs under control and walked to the edge of the dock to give you a hand. You glared at it personally offended by the gesture. Those were the hands that had just thrown you in without any warning.

But Tyler was patient and held his hand out steadily until you were ready to grab hold of it. For a moment, you debated trying to sink him to the murky depths along with you, but as his impressive looking biceps flexed under the warm glow of the sun, you realized you’d have to take revenger later when you were more certain of your success.

With the added help, you hauled up to the dock. The access water from your clothes ran off, darkening the wood in random splatter patterns, and you realized for the first time that it was pretty hot out.

The sun was bright even with your hand covering your eyes as you looked up; not a cloud in the sky as the bugs buzzed around lazily.

“Sorry.” Tyler fidgeted awkwardly, bringing your attention back to down earth. “I didn’t mean to be, well, mean.”

“Most people would think you’re an angel but you surely have a competitive streak, Tyler Simms.”

He shrugged apologetically. After a moment, he stood up and called over his shoulder as he jogged away. “I’ll go grab a towel for you. Meet me in the cabin!”

It was hard to stay mad at him. Especially when he tried to make up for it by doing something cute, like literally running to get a towel. He really was puppy-like; a little reckless but very contrite when he realized he messed up.

True to his word, he did bring you a towel along with a whole bag of clothes he had packed for the trip. Figuring it’d be a waste to dry your hair—you’d be on the water soon again any way—you settled for patting down the rest of your body and changed into extra clothes.

After Tyler managed to coerce you into putting on sun block (he was strict about it, likely leftover from his swimming days, while you tended to be lazy about it), it was back to lake where each of you set off in a kayak.

And even though he had won the bet earlier, he took mercy and neither of you had to row in the garish orange kayak; a mercy on both pairs of eyes, to be sure.

The sun turned sweltering before it had even reached its highest point, the heat feeling like pin pricks all over your body. The water definitely helped. Between kayaking, swimming, and even a brief diving contest off the end of the dock, you kept cool enough.

Enjoying a late lunch under the shade of a large tree, you felt the pull of an after-lunch nap calling your name.

Tyler noticed the way your eyelids drooped and laid down on the blanket and pulled you into his chest. “Nap time?”

Utterly content, you nodded languidly.

“Alright then, let’s nap.” He pressed a soft kiss into your hair. “Thanks for letting me drag you here. This is perfect...”

The was the last words you heard as the summer heat, filling lunch, and buzz of cicadas lulled you to sleep.

_______________

We could all use a summer day like this. I’m contemplating writing more based on the other boys’ preferences too, but we’ll see. Hopefully this one was enjoyable!

#the covenant #tyler simms x reader #Tyler Simms #the covenant imagines

43 notes · View notes

beautifulsnake2162020 · 3 years

Text

Ikevamp headcanons after watching Hamilton

Quick disclaimer: Yes I know this is a show about people who had owned slaves and slavery is bad. Having said that there's a reason why we suspend disbelief for a couple of hours and just allow ourselves to be swept into the story. I also love Phantom of the Opera but I also am aware that this is a story that involves an abusive and toxic relationship. The point is that I am aware that there are problems that needs to be discussed, but I still love the music, the story and the shows okay. This is just fan content not meant to be taken seriously and is just for fun. Okay? Now let's proceed.

I'll be doing Will and Arthur first since I'm currently doing Shakespeare's route and was inspired to do this after MC watches Romeo and Juliet with Vincent and I was wondering how Will would react to watching Hamilton. And Arthur is here because he is my husband/main lover. I might do Mozart and Napoleon next.

SPOILER ALERT: For anyone who hasn't seen the Disney Plus version of Hamilton, there might be some spoilers here (unless you already saw the show or know the story that is).

General Scenario:

You don't know how but Le Comte was able to get the filmed version of Hamilton, a musical which you've told Sebastian that you've been dying to see but was never able to because tickets were always sold out and entering the lottery was going to be a little too expensive for someone who lives in Japan and who doesn't exactly have the money or the time to simply fly to New York if in case she won. You were also excited because apparently Le Comte was able to modify the 21st century tech room that you use for your online classes and was able to get a wide screen and high quality surround sound which made you appreciate his efforts. A part of you was also curious as to how the other residents would react. You were scared that some of them might take offense, especially Napoleon who knew one of the characters in the show in real life. Would they react weirdly for seeing people different from them portray people that they knew? You were also wondering if they might even appreciate some of the 21st century slang that you and Sebastian would sometimes slip back into whenever it was just the two of you alone. After talking it out with everyone and explaining a few more things (like how its probably going to be different since it is a series of captured pictures-or at least that's your closest analogy- being played super fast with the synchronized sound of the actors- or what you were almost tempted to call "Techno Magic") during a dinner in which Shakespeare had decided to be present in, they were actually interested in what this show is about. Napoleon convinced you that he's fine and actually someone else playing Lafayette might even help with the suspension of disbelief since its been awhile since he has last met him anyway. Will even mentioned that while he has read and heard about stories from America, this is probably going to be the first story or production he's going to see from it. The only one who showed any hesitation - to no one's surprise - was Mozart, since he is attached to the kind of music he is familiar with (aren't we all?). But after prodding from both Jean, Le Comte and you giving him the puppy eyes, he finally relents. The day comes when everyone was once again free and for practicality everyone decided to have a meal first so that they won't be hungry during the show and also for you, Le Comte, and Sebastian to explain a few things everyone else may need to know to truly appreciate the show (like how the Presidential system and elections worked during the setting, what the word "Rewind" means, what is beatboxing, etc). So finally everyone gathered into the tech room after the meal, the lights were dimmed and once everyone was settled, you hit play. And as self-predicted of you, you find yourself crying in the end.

William Shakespeare (I'm still doing his route so please don't hate me if I get him wrong. Also no spoilers please).

- He was a bit shocked at first by how exactly up close you could see the facial expressions of the actors as well as the various ways it would cut to another person. He could now understand why you struggled with trying to explain how its played in a theatre but not exactly like the theatrical experience. But as you saw in your periphery, by the time Philippa Soo sings her first line, Will had already adjusted and allowed himself to be an audience and shut off his director and actor mindset (for the most part at least).

- While he didn't specialize in musicals, he found himself paying attention to the story of "the ten dollar founding father without a father." He knows how music could help both the actors and the audience in succumbing to their emotions in a scene and to suspend disbelief from reality. In his productions the words are not overwhelmed by any score but rather complemented to bring out the emotion he wants to evoke and for actors to show. Since many parts of the show has been influenced by the spoken word style without completely removing it from being sung, he has become enlightened with how powerful a show can be when it is done right.

- He not only enjoyed the story (especially the flow of it) and the production (especially some of the more technical details that the other residents hadn't noticed as far as a stage production is concerned), he loved that even the ensemble members had good acting and some of the onstage humor. One of the meta things he enjoyed was the obvious reference to his most superstitious work.

- Once you've seen how he loves analyzing the technical details of the production, you excitedly tell him about a special member of the ensemble who is known as "The bullet" among fans of the show. You could see him being enlightened as he watches the show with you again (this time with just the two of you) and he now sees "the bullet" and the way she interacts with the characters in a whole different light. He was so impressed with this idea that he may have adapted it into one of his new original plays (its not a copy paste of Hamilton's "bullet" but he definitely adapted assigning a member of the ensemble to have a special role that may not be significant at first, but he heavily notes that this member would have to be unique in interacting with any of the other characters).

- He didn't know what to expect from a 21st Century production but he found himself impressed with the prose and writing of various raps and songs. His favorite from Act 1 in terms of rhyme schemes was "Right Hand Man" and from Act 2 it was Jefferson's rap in "Washington by your side". And after settling down a bit his favorite emotional parts were "History has its eyes on you", "Hurricane", and "It's quiet uptown".

- He was impressed with how the double roles was given and how it actually is true for both of their roles in both acts. Ambiguity is one of his favorite things to have in a work, and he gives props to Lin for all the ambiguity he later realizes was in several parts of the show. If he and Arthur had been a little bit more closer, they probably would have bonded over the ambiguity Hamilton's comma in his letter to Angelica (see kids, grammar matters).

- A part of his brain wonders how the real life Hamilton would react to this and if him and Burr would still be enemies. But after some thinking he decides its not worth his efforts of asking anyone to bring them back since a wonderful production of their life has already been made even if it may not necessarily reflect who they truly are. He of all people knew what it's like to be inspired by great figures, it was fortunate that Lin Manuel Miranda decided to make a show about them before he had the chance to.

- You explain that in America Hamilton is one of the lesser known founding fathers of their nation and how it may be because his political opponents later on became Presidents and therefore was able to form the narrative. He becomes inspired by it and begins to search out people or stories who are hidden gems who may not be historically famous but had much more interesting stories than some of the ones he has heard of.

- Afterwards once you are sure that he has gotten comfortable enough with the genre you show him various videos of people rapping to his works and his reactions range from impressed to amused to "that's not what I mean when I wrote that" and you had to calm him down and explain that they can't hear him anyway after he started giving serious critiques on what the text means.

Arthur Conan Doyle

- While he was knowledgeable about many things, America's founding fathers was not one of them. He along with the other residents have gotten used to any rumors or exaggerated accounts of their lives and you and Sebastian have already warned that this is just a fictionalized production of the real person. As a writer of some historical fiction books he argued that he of all people was aware that any work based on history will speak more about the creators rather than the actual people they are writing about most of the time. He was nevertheless interested as to why you have become fascinated with the treasury secretary (and maybe it was with a twinge of jealousy that you began to expressly show admiration to another man even if he wasn't among the residents in the mansion). After all unlike many other residents of the mansion, on the surface it seemed that Hamilton was similar to Theo who mainly played a supporting but crucial role to his brother. He was thankful that you didn't hold it against him and was comforted that you were in a similar place. You even told him that the only thing you really knew about Hamilton before listening to the soundtrack and watching "Animatics" was that he was in the ten dollar American bill.

- And as someone who has delved into writing historical fictions, this was probably one of the most entertaining productions about a historical figure he has seen. He's going to be honest with you in that at first he was wondering if revealing Burr shot Hamilton in the opening was going to hinder him from enjoying the show; but he was pleasantly surprised that this was not the case at all. As a matter of fact it now made him want to find out who the real Hamilton was (although a part of him doubts if the real Hamilton had any regrets at all). According to him, this is why as a fictionalized historical work, the show is a success because it makes you want to find out more about the events and figures of the story (even if it means looking at darker realities that they did). And while the real Hamilton may be a lot different from what was shown, with all the things he went through and all the things he has done (for better or worse), he now wonders why exactly Le Comte hadn't approached him since he seems to be no better or worse than the average resident ("He and Newt could probably discuss mathematics all day."). You then explained that his political rivals (Jefferson and Madison from the show, and Monroe who wasn't shown in the musical) had later on become Presidents and was able to shape the narrative away from Hamilton. "Ron Chernow made Hamilton's biography because he was the lesser known founding father who was fading into obscurity among Americans and Lin read the book and recognized the story of someone who has risen through his writings. And to Lin that was also the story of hiphop." While he wasn't involved in politics as much as Hamilton was, Arthur had enough experience to know what it feels like to have those kinds of people in power. He also knows just how powerful it is to be in "the room where it happened" and how sometimes the real decisions weren't being made in an office but rather in either a private party or the right bar when people in power had their guard down and were more susceptible to being influenced.

- He could relate a lot with Hamilton on many things that he's only comfortable allowing either you or Theo to see. From being just so much more aware of death's inevitability coming for every living thing to survivor's guilt even though a part of him knows its irrational (but sometimes the emotional nonsense just overtakes our perspectives and actions). It's why he could understand Hamilton's need to write as much as he can before he dies. It's why for a time in his human life he had deviated from writing about Holmes and ventured into other genres. He could also relate to the need to prove what type of person he was, and how to go beyond his tragedies to serve people in their own ways. Hamilton did it as a soldier and the creator of America's financial system. And he is doing it as an informally practicing doctor and as a writer. It's a need that he's trying to mitigate since you've repeatedly told him that he doesn't need to prove anything to you or to anyone and to write whatever he pleases. But he also can't deny that it's still somewhere lodged in the back of his head.

- Just like William Shakespeare, in terms of the wordplay found in rap and the ambiguity present in the show and how those things were executed made him amazed and momentarily speechless. He was especially fanboying about "The comma after dearest" and how this essentially shows how important grammar was. It went to the extent that afterwards whenever he would write to you he would address you either as "My dearest, Y/N" or "My darling, Y/N" with special emphasis on the comma (sometimes you could see how there's more ink in the comma than some of the actual words. That's how much he wants to emphasize that you hold the title of dearest or darling). And you excitedly share with him some of the trivia knowledge of the show (like how in real life it was Angelica who originally made the comma mistake by writing to Hamilton as "My dear, sir" in one of her letters and it was Hamilton who was asking her what the comma means and even replied with "Ma chere, soeur") and how Angelica really did reference the Icarus metaphor in one of her letters to Eliza. And even though he wasn't a major musical nerd (he sang for fun), he would now join you in watching Howard Ho's Hamilton videos musically analyzing Hamilton (and would probably try to find a way to use this knowledge to annoy Mozart in some way).

- Speaking of music: Maybe it's because he's biased in his love for you but aside from Sebastian he's probably the one who has no qualms about the hiphop genre and was immediately into the various wordplays that rapping allowed. And because of this his favorite characters in terms of rapping are the ones played by Daveed Diggs (probably more than Hamilton himself even though you've explained that Lin is the one who wrote the whole thing). He even adapts to how Daveed as Jefferson would say Isaac's third law and incorporated it into his "let's tease Newton" kit. That's when you know he really loves Daveed Diggs ("Every action has an equal opposite -" "WILL YOU PLEASE STOP SAYING IT THAT WAY?! I didn't mind the first few times but this is ridiculous Arthur" "It must be nice, it must be nice to have a Newton on your side"). And his favorite character emotionally was Angelica (her raps in Schuyler Sisters and Satisfied may have helped).

- Speaking of the Schuyler Sisters, after watching it with you another time (this time with just the two of you) one of his favorite things to say is that you've got the best of all three sisters within you (Angelica's wittiness and intelligence, Eliza's cares for the more important things in life, and Peggy's humor) with the sexiness of Maria Reynolds. But because he sees all 4 of them in you he has the benefit of not needing to choose among them. Having said that there will be a period wherein he teases you if he makes you "Helpless" or "Satisfied" (and you respond either by kissing him or singing "That would be enough").

- Whenever you would sing as one of the Schuyler sisters he will join you as any of the male characters the moment he masters the soundtrack and could even sing it without the music. His favorite rap songs are "Guns and Ships", "Washington on your side", and of course "Satisfied". He also really loves "Non-stop", "the 10 duel commandments", and "The room where it happened". But his favorite sequence is from "the Winter's Ball" all the way to "Wait for it". Since it has romance, a shocking revelation, and gives insight to the perspective of the antagonist. He's also one of the first people to attempt to learn the choreography whenever he's in one of his mental blocks in writing. Of course he makes sure not to injure himself.

- He posts song lyrics to keep himself motivated in his times of mental block "There's a million things I haven't done. But just you wait" and "I'm not throwing away my shot" frequently appear around his desk.

-And whenever he's feeling low or insecure, just like Eliza you remind him to "Look around, Look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now."

#Ikemen Vampire #Headcanons #ikemen william #ikevamp #Hamilton #William Shakespeare #Arthur Conan Doyle #Ikemen Arthur #Lin Manuel Miranda #Daveed Diggs #Philippa Soo #Ron Chernow

35 notes · View notes