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#how have i been doing this for five years haha
vargaslovinghours · 2 days
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And never let you go ♥
Bonus without the overspill lighting:
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#💟#Digital art#Full Art#Art#Edgar#Scriabin#It's that time of year again where I get real sappy about Vargas ♥ Because yes! Once again it is my own personal Vargasversary! 🎊 Yaaaay#Seven years now - I don't know what to do with seven years it feels like a hard to define number haha#Right in the middle between five years and ten years! A while to be certain but hard to define as a Long Time either hmm#Well whatever it doesn't matter <3 The important part is that I still love Vargas and them very much ♥♪#I actually didn't really have any specific plans for this Vargasversary :0 I haven't been drawing them much again#Other things have drawn my focus and attention hehe ♪#So I just kinda set my hand loose - no sketches on paper no defined idea - this is just what my hand/brain came up with in the moment#I'm pleased :) I think it accurately expresses how I feel about them hehe <3#I wrote down what ended up being the text/caption a couple months ago while I was in Big Love in their direction#I don't remember what inspired it anymore other than just - They ♥ Themst ♥ Do love them <3#I've planned my next reread now ♪ Barring anything drastic (like an update lol) I know when I'll be rereading next#I'm looking forward to it! :D As always hehe <3#It's still a bit a ways off which works well for recharging :)#And of course I'll be doing my usual in the meanwhile - this and the main anniversary and my sketchdumps and Requestober haha#The caption is as much me as it is Edgar after all <3#Even quiet and sleeping I still find them as a comfort - a place I find rest and joy in ♥#Inspiring and lovely and wonderful - pretty and tender and dear!#Oh and#Always finding a way to flip up the bottom of the shirt#Hehe <3
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mikkomacko · 2 days
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After reading the recent chapter of Him & I, the image of teen Nico and the others trying to adjust to life in NJ has me in a chokehold lol
May I request for any shenanigans our boys may have gotten into during their first few months in the states? 👀
Stop I love this request! Just a bunch of silly teen boys in a new country together haha
Thanks so much requesting! Let me know if you want some more funny moments between the guys
~~~~
“Nico, I love you man but when am I gonna get my own bed?”
Timo is sprawled out across the queen size bed, McDonald’s fries and a burger resting in his lap. It’s been his obsession food for the last month they’ve been in Jersey and Nico is patently waiting for the day it all makes him sick.
“I’m trying Timo,” he huffs, looking up from the hoard of emails he’s been sifting through. His first order of business when he got to Jersey was finding something in the area to invest in. That something was a beloved bar in the area that had been shut down a few years ago and now he’s trying to build it all back up. “A few more weeks and I’ll look for somewhere new, ok?”
The apartment is nice, not a penthouse but large and luxurious. Enough to keep them all comfortable until he can afford an equally nice place for everyone. Technically leased under Nico’s name, it’s his permanent home now. And the home of the friends he brought with him. Three bedrooms in all, but Jesper and Jonas brought their girls with them, and Nico felt it was best they got rooms for themselves. Leaving him and Timo to double-up unless someone wanted the couch.
“Not that I don’t like the bonding,” Timo laughs, shoveling fries into his mouth. “I just didn’t realize how much of a cuddler you are.”
“Shut up!” Nico grumbles, cheeks heating up. He’s not that much of a cuddler, it just happens. It doesn’t help that Timo is such a bed hog either. What else is he supposed to do when his friend is rolling onto his side of the bed?
Timo snickers, hitting play on the next episode of Friends. Nico goes back to work, approving orders and installs for the bar so that it’ll be ready to open by the end of the month. Eventually the loud, smacking footfall of Jonas float in and the elder Swiss boy’s head is poking into the master bedroom.
“What are you watching?” He ask innocently, and Timo pats the bed next to him. That’s all the invitation Jonas needs before he’s crashing into the mattress, settling against the headboard and stealing some chicken nuggets from Timo.
“Ladies at work tonight?” Timo asks him, and he nods. Nola and Nicole had both gotten work together at a fancy clothing store a few streets down. The pay isn’t great, but they’re able to save up and support themselves with Nico taking care of housing and food for everyone. And once the bar is up and running, him and the boys will have more work to do.
Jonas pulls out his phone, sending a text that’s barely buzzed in the group chat before Jesper is running into the room as well. He shoves Nico’s beanie down over his eyes, leaping onto the bed with the other boys.
Nico yanks the hat off, tossing it towards the closet and refocusing. He doesn’t even get five minutes of work done before Jesper is calling for him.
“What?”
“Come on boss,” he teases “working too hard. Join us in bed.”
Nico rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile. “You’re not my type.”
“Which one of us?”
“All of you.” Nico deadpans, looking up over his screen to find them all staring at him with puppy dog eyes.
“You love friends, come watch.” Jonas tells him. “I’ll let you sit next to Timo so you can snuggle?”
They all bust out laughing and it’s enough to get Nico to close his laptop. Rising from the desk, he pads over to the bed and knees his way up between Jonas and Timo.
He settles into the pillows, crossing his arms over his chest. Timo and Jonas are warm on either side of him, everyone’s biceps pressed tight against each other as they squish together.
Sometimes when Nico’s here, just him and his friends from home without thinking of everything he has to do, everything that comes with being the boss, he remembers his age. Still freshly 18 with too much money in his bank account and a responsibility to take care of the five other people he’s drug into this with him.
It makes him feel small. In a safe way though, because he’s got the people that believe in him and have his back. He’s got the Devs with him.
Maybe Jesper is right, maybe he is working too hard to make this work because he wakes up in the morning to a photo of him sleeping on Timo’s shoulder, a an arm and leg thrown over his best friends body.
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jklpopcorn · 8 months
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Wanted to draw a fnaf oc from like 9 years ago! Back when I was just starting to draw :) honestly one of the reasons I even got into it lol
Here's the original! It was drawn on a shitty old dying laptop in og paint :> I was BABY back then
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Xbshdbhssv I loved her sm
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narutomaki · 1 year
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thinking about orochimaru in a dress
I am unwell
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saja-star · 4 months
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I've had a hard time articulating to people just how fundamental spinning used to be in people's lives, and how eerie it is that it's vanished so entirely. It occurred to me today that it's a bit like if in the future all food was made by machine, and people forgot what farming and cooking were. Not just that they forgot how to do it; they had never heard of it.
When they use phrases like "spinning yarns" for telling stories or "heckling a performer" without understanding where they come from, I imagine a scene in the future where someone uses the phrase "stir the pot" to mean "cause a disagreement" and I say, did you know a pot used to be a container for heating food, and stirring was a way of combining different components of food together? "Wow, you're full of weird facts! How do you even know that?"
When I say I spin and people say "What, like you do exercise bikes? Is that a kind of dancing? What's drafting? What's a hackle?" it's like if I started talking about my cooking hobby and my friend asked "What's salt? Also, what's cooking?" Well, you see, there are a lot of stages to food preparation, starting with planting crops, and cooking is one of the later stages. Salt is a chemical used in cooking which mostly alters the flavor of the food but can also be used for other things, like drawing out moisture...
"Wow, that sounds so complicated. You must have done a lot of research. You're so good at cooking!" I'm really not. In the past, children started learning about cooking as early as age five ("Isn't that child labor?"), and many people cooked every day their whole lives ("Man, people worked so hard back then."). And that's just an average person, not to mention people called "chefs" who did it professionally. I go to the historic preservation center to use their stove once or twice a week, and I started learning a couple years ago. So what I know is less sophisticated than what some children could do back in the day.
"Can you make me a snickers bar?" No, that would be pretty hard. I just make sandwiches mostly. Sometimes I do scrambled eggs. "Oh, I would've thought a snickers bar would be way more basic than eggs. They seem so simple!"
Haven't you ever wondered where food comes from? I ask them. When you were a kid, did you ever pick apart the different colored bits in your food and wonder what it was made of? "No, I never really thought about it." Did you know rice balls are called that because they're made from part of a plant called rice? "Oh haha, that's so weird. I thought 'rice' was just an adjective for anything that was soft and white."
People always ask me why I took up spinning. Isn't it weird that there are things we take so much for granted that we don't even notice when they're gone? Isn't it strange that something which has been part of humanity all across the planet since the Neanderthals is being forgotten in our generation? Isn't it funny that when knowledge dies, it leaves behind a ghost, just like a person? Don't you want to commune with it?
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videovamptramp · 4 months
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i’m right over here, why can’t you see me? (2)
// when ellie’s reaction to you and abby hooking up isn’t quite what you expected, she leads you right into abby’s open arms. //
[warnings: jealousy, pining, angst, slight arguing, angry!ellie, illusions to one-sided feelings, simp!abby, fuckgirl!ellie, sexual implications]
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this is pt.2 (pt.1 can be found here)
abby was always taught to be the bigger person. her father consistently reminded her that no matter how people treat her, she should always be the bigger person. that’s most of the reason why she’s so reserved and non-confrontational. when she first started university, she knew she didn’t quite fit in. unlike a vast majority of students around here, she wasn’t here for the “college” experience. she was just here to play soccer and get her degree in engineering. she also noticed you from the first day of freshman year, but she was way too shy to say hi to you. abby’s never really been good at flirting or starting conversation with new people. she often feels too awkward, or too intimidated to say anything.
manny took a liking to her right away; the school got his rooming situation mixed up, and that’s how he ended up being abby’s roommate. it was strange at first for her; she was wary about having a guy as a roommate. but she quickly learned manny was a cool guy. he was funny, and hung up pictures of him and his dad right away. abby could relate, as she was very close to her dad as well.
manny slowly seemed to get abby out of her shell, and would invite her to various functions and parties. but he quickly learned if it didn’t have anything to do with soccer, abby wasn’t really interested. even the girls who threw themselves at the dark haired blonde, would get shot down without abby even realizing she was rejecting them. you were ironically the first person abby found herself interested in. hell, after the party yesterday, abby was almost certain she was enthralled by you.
after walking you back to your dorm, you gave abby your number and hugged her tightly. abby walked all the way back to her shared room with a dorky grin on her face. she could still smell your girly perfume, and all she could think about was your pretty smile. a part of her wondered if you’d cave and call ellie, but when you texted her after she had gotten out of the shower, she knew you didn’t.
y/n (1:34 a.m): i can’t wait to see how she reacts tomorrow, thanks for helping me haha
y/n (1:35 a.m): and thank you for keeping me company tonight, i really liked getting to know you abby 🖤
the smile that tugged at her lips after reading your message was nearly unrecognizable. as she walked out of the bathroom with her eyes and thumbs on her phone screen, manny raises a brow in slight suspicion at the peculiar sight.
abby (1:42 a.m): i really liked getting to know you too, i hope we can get to know each other better :) i was serious about teaching you how to ride a horse lol
“that’s a face i’ve never seen before.” manny states observingly, causing abby to look away from her phone, over at her roommate who was flashing her an intrigued smile. a blush coats her freckled covered cheeks as she thinks about you and your smile. “you remember that girl from my women’s history class? y/n?” abby reminds her best friend, who throws his head back and lets out a bark of a laugh. “abby you jugadora (player)! i knew you’d get laid eventually.” he taunts causing the jock to roll her eyes. “i didn’t ‘get laid’, gross ass. i finally said more than five words to her. i got her number too.” abby smirks, and mischief glints in manny’s eyes. “so nora dragging you to that party was a good thing then?” he half taunts and abby’s phone chimes, signaling that you’ve texted her again; her face gets hot, and manny chuckles.
y/n (1:44 a.m): i’ll be waiting for you to set something up when we’re not tipsy then ;)
abby (1:46a.m): i don’t think you’ll be waiting for very long <3 goodnigjt y/n, sleep tight
y/n (1:47 a.m): goodnight abby 🖤
when you wake up the next morning, your head is throbbing, and thoughts of last night begin to flood your mind. suddenly you remember all about abby’s plan to make ellie jealous. you reach over for your phone and see you have a string of missed calls, and five texts from ellie. your heart thumps as you open the text thread with the brunette.
ellie (2:20 a.m): you home??
ellie (6:34 a.m): why didn’t you call me last night?
ellie (6:35 a.m): did you make it back to your room safely??
ellie (9:35 a.m): you going to class today?
ellie (11:47 a.m) did you really hookup with anderson last night? it’s all that nora chick and her friend are talking about rn.
your cheeks heat up as you read the last message; word certainly seems to move fast around here. before you can even think about a response to ellie’s various messages, your gaze wanders to the time. your eyes widen as you gasp, realizing you slept nearly half the day away; it was already 2:30 p.m and nobody except for abby knew you were alive. you scurry off your bed, and just as your about to grab your clothes and stuff to shower, dina comes barging into your shared dorm. “dude, is it true!? did you hookup with the captain of the soccer team last night!?” dina sounds excited, and your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink, causing her to gasp.
“you did! holy shit, y/n… i didn’t think you had it in you.” she comments, sounding a bit impressed. “what? you didn’t think i had enough rizz to pull abby anderson?” you question half jokingly, causing the raven haired girl to laugh loudly. “oh no, i’m well aware you can pull whoever you want, i just didn’t think you’d move on from ellie so fast! i didn’t even come home last night, i spent the night listening to ellie rant about you and abby hunky anderson.” dina teases you mercilessly, doing nothing to ease the way your face is burning.
the raven haired girls eyes then widen, shining with pure amusement. “did you two do it in here? on your bed!?” she cackles before whistling, “who are you?” dina asks half jokingly as she begins to walk over to her side of the room, reaching for her biology textbook. “you’re leaving again?” you ask out loud, and dina nods, turning her head and flashing you a roguish smile. “yup, i’m studying with jesse till five.” she admits, and you raise your brows, offering her a disbelieving expression. “studying or fucking?” you ask her, poking fun at the slightly taller girl. she rolls her eyes, but looks away from you in order to keep you from seeing the way her face changes in color. “unlike you, i am considerate of jesse’s roommate. we wait until he’s at work.” dina’s response causes you to laugh, shaking your head in amusement.
“whatever. i’m going to shower, and change into pajamas. maybe i’ll make myself a cup soup and watch reruns of buffy all evening.” you tell her, and dina snorts. “maybe you could call anderson to join you. i’m sure she’ll be up for round two.” dina’s voice is sardonic but dripping with lightheartedness. “who says we didn’t already have round two?” you inquire challengingly, causing dina to gasp as she reaches for a pillow on her bed, tossing it right at you. you laugh loudly, as you make your way towards the door with your pajamas and toothbrush in hands. right as you open the door to rush out, you come face to face with ellie who had been debating with herself on whether to knock or not.
her eyebrows meet her hairline as she sees you, your mascara from last night a mess, and your hairs a mess. there’s a wave of hot, red anger that surges throughout the brunette as she realizes you’ve been so busy with abby anderson, you haven’t been able to answer any of her messages, or even been able to wash your face. her eyes flicker over to your bed that’s a mess, and suddenly unwanted images of abby fucking you on your bed flood her mind.
“it’s nice to see you’re alive.” ellie grumbles a bit dramatically as she pushes her way into the room, causing dina to turn around and look at you. “you knew i was okay. i was with abby.” you respond, and the mere mention of the other girl seems to set ellie off. “no i didn’t know that y/n! i don’t know a fucking thing about abby! she could’ve been a weirdo who only wanted to take advantage of you—” you cut ellie off before she can say something stupid, “but she wasn’t! abby and i are both two consenting adults who hooked up, just like everyone else around here!” you snap a bit harshly, and the words feel like a slap to the face for ellie. “so the rumors are true? you and anderson hooked up last night?” ellie’s voice sounds hurt, and you can’t even recognize the expression that’s etched onto her features.
“uh, jesse’s waiting for me, so i’ll let you guys talk.” dina declares a bit awkwardly, she can feel the tension in the room, but she decides to stay out of it and walk away. before she walks out, the raven haired girl flashes you a look of reassurance. when she shuts the door behind her, you and ellie are left alone. you shake your head, “why do you sound so angry about it? you hookup with girls all the time!” you counterpoint, and ellie shakes her head. “but i never ditch you to do it!” she hisses, while you respond with an eye roll. “yes you do! ellie, you ditched me last night for angela! you do it at every party with different girls, but the one time i do it, it’s a problem?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.
“i was worried about you! i don’t care about your meaningless, shitty hookup with anderson.” ellie spits rudely, and you let out an angry laugh of disbelief. “shitty? why do you think i was asleep all day? it was amazing.” you nearly grimace as you realize you sound like you’re trying too hard to convince ellie. “besides, abby already asked me on a date. she wants to go horseback riding.” you lie right through your teeth, and ellie lets out a chuckle. “yeah? that sounds like complete bullshit.” she calls you on your bluff, and you raise a brow, “what sounds like bullshit? that someone could actually want something more than a hookup with me?” you ask challengingly, causing ellie’s annoyed expression to falter. “no, y/n, that’s not what i meant…” she trails off, her voice lowering slightly.
“then what did you mean? because to me it sounds like you think all abby or anyone could ever want me for is a hookup.” you reply dryly, but ellie can detect the slight hurt in your tone. she shakes her head again, “no that isn’t— it’s not you! it’s abby! girls like her aren’t actually interested in dating anyone. i mean, half the cheerleading team said she sleeps with girls and never talks to them again!” ellie points out, and you furrow your eyebrows. “since when do you listen to rumors?” you demand, making her run her fingers through her hair in frustration. “you can’t seriously be thinking about going out with her, are you?”
her question causes you to frown, “yes i am. and unless you can give me an actual reason on why i shouldn’t, then we have nothing left to fight about.” your voice is strangely stern, and something in ellie’s stomach drops because of it. “i’m going to go shower… just like was before you barged in here.” you know you sound meaner than usual, but you can’t help it. ellie was supposed to be showing you how sexy she was when she was jealous, not what a jerk she was. you didn’t even mean to lie about your date with abby; it had just slipped out. ellie had a way of pushing your buttons, and in a way you knew the more you talked about abby, the more you were pushing hers. you walk out of your room, shutting the door behind you and leaving ellie alone. she can’t help but glance over at the messy, undid bed that was taunting her. ellie hates thinking about you and abby together, but she still can’t figure out why. dina was right, the brunette might just be the most oblivious person on the planet.
you’re not as upset after getting clean. a warm shower and a fresh set of pajamas always makes you feel better. when you get back to your room, ellie is no longer there, but there's a twinge of guilt that runs through your veins. you push it as far away from your thoughts as you can. you know you shouldn't feel bad; after all, ellie has been raving about how "pretty" and "hot" angela is for the last four weeks! you shouldn't feel the slightest bit guilty for making her jealous with abby.
as your mind thinks about the honey blonde girl, a small, inevitable smile makes it's way onto your lips. though the smile falls fast when you realize you're going to have to ask abby to help you again. this time it was your own doing; you angrily lied to ellie and told her you had a date with abby. in a way it made you feel a bit pathetic, faking a date. the cruel voice in your head was telling you that ellie was right; you couldn't get a date with someone like abby... not an actual date at least. but ellie didn't really know that. as far as she knew, you were going to be riding off into the sunset with abby after your date.
ellie doesn’t text you throughout the rest of the evening or night. a part of you feels a bit bad for lying to her, but the other part of you knows you only did it because she was acting stupid. the next morning you wake up and get ready for your classes; feeling way better than you did yesterday. abby sees you walking to your second class, which happens to be women’s history with her. she can’t stop herself from approaching you, regardless of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
“y/n.” she greets you with that soft accent, that causes an unfamiliar warmth to course throughout your body. “abigail.” you respond back, unable to contain the smile on your face. “how did things go with williams yesterday?” she asks curiously, and your smile falls at the mention of your best friend. “not good? was my plan a bust?” she questions cautiously, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. you sigh, “i don’t know. i mean, she was really mad yesterday when she came to my room. she heard people saying we hooked up, and she said all you wanted was to hookup and never talk to me again…” you trail off, and abby opens her mouth to disagree, but you go on before she can get a word out.
“i kinda got really mad when she said that and i might’ve lied to her about us having a date.” you blush in pure embarrassment, and abby lets out a laugh. “oh jeez, i don’t even wanna picture how angry she got when you told her that.” abby’s voice is light, yet there’s a slight seriousness in her tone; she remembers the way ellie was glaring at her the other night. you shake your head, a small frown etching itself onto your face. abby can’t figure out how you look so pretty all the time; even when you’re upset. “yeah she was pretty mad… but who cares? she’s just acting like a jerk! i mean, to be jealous is one thing but she doesn’t have to be an asshole about it. she’s supposed to be my best friend. realistically she’s supposed to be happy for me.” you mutter, causing the blonde to raise her brows in amusement.
“she’s your best friend who’s in love with you. the more time you spend with me, the angrier she’s gonna get.” abby points out with a slight mumble, and you sigh, “if ellie is as in love with me as you and dina say she is, then she would’ve said something yesterday. but she didn’t. i honestly think ellie just isn’t into me like that.” you sound genuinely sad as you come to terms with this, and the dismal expression on your face causes something to tug at abby’s heartstrings. she doesn’t like seeing you sad.
“she’s just stubborn. she needs more of a push. i mean you said she got upset when you told her we have a date.” abby tries, as you both stand outside of the classroom, continuing the conversation. “yeah, but she’s ellie, she literally has anger issues. maybe she was just mad that i promised to call, and i didn’t.” you explain, and abby shrugs. “then lets go on a date. let’s see how ellie reacts to it.” the taller girl throws the idea out there, causing you to freeze. you look at her, “you wanna take me on a “date”, just so i can see how ellie reacts?” your voice has suspicion laced throughout it, as abby nods. “why do you wanna help me so badly?” you interrogate slightly, obviously not trusting the blonde.
she laughs at the way your eyes are narrowed, and she can’t help but find every expression of yours absolutely adorable. “because i like you. you’re the coolest person i’ve met around here aside from nora and manny. i’ll help you get the girl if that’s what you want. i’m a great wingman.” she winks at you, and you roll your eyes playfully, that genuine smile that causes abby’s heart to palpitate returns. “you’re also a very sweet person.” you add onto her boast; this causes the back of her neck to heat up, as she looks down at her boots and smiles. you wrap your arms around her and hug her tightly, just like you did the other night.
and just like the first time you hugged her, abby’s mind begins to race as the smell of your perfume takes over her senses. she hugs you back, and when you pull away you have this mischievous grin on your face. “i guess we’ve officially got a date then, anderson.” you half joke, as you lead abby into the classroom. abby’s sure her face is as red as a tomato, and she’s much too busy thinking about how soft you are and how good you smell to think of a good response. instead, all abby can do is follow you like a puppy to your seat. she sits down next to you, and throughout the entire class, she doesn’t pay attention once.
after the class ends she realizes she hasn’t taken a single note, and has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. every thought she seemed to have, circled back to you. the worst of it was, you were probably thinking about ellie while she was thinking about you nonstop.
after class, she groans to herself as she realizes she has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. she was too busy stealing glances at you, and thinking about your “date”.
“god, what the hell did i get myself into?”
abby thinks to herself as she walks into her shared dorm. she throws herself onto her bed, her thoughts never leaving you.
meanwhile ellie slams the door behind her as she storms into her room. she can’t help but feel more upset than ever. she saw you and abby walking to class today, and it caused an ugly green wave of jealousy to wash over her. for a moment she actually wanted to go up to abby and punch her right in front of you, though ellie knew you’d never forgive her for that. but ellie also couldn’t just sit around and watch you fall for abby fucking anderson.
suddenly, she pauses in the middle of pacing as an idea hits her; like a lightbulb lighting up over her head. ellie knows what she has to do; she’s going to ruin your date with abby, and she has a million different ideas on how to do it.
xxxxxxx
team abby or team ellie? 👀
taglist: @macaroni676 @swxxtbnny @bellaramseyswife @asabovesobelow666 @thatonementallyillsimp @fofinhamarie @p4ison1vy @harrysslutsstuff @jalousiexx @mostlyhornyandsad @clouded-whispers @elliewilliams4ever @forelliesposts @dergy @uraesthete @4rt3m1ss @3bolivia @calderysuh @milfsandtittyenthusiast @fofinhamarie @mikimambo @elliewilliamsgf69 @ariiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii01 @ellienbilliearemywives @emst4rr @nabiba @bycoincidencesoflife @jennasoneanonly @lizzygoldenr @bready101 @dinasbigtoe @fairlyang @wingedoafbasketballjudge-blog @halfmooneclipse @defencelessarcher @selfcentered-bitch @vswerve @iwantyoutocryforme @hsangel64 @abbysleftbicepp @gabsssssblog @2dmenlackimperfection @cinematicdilfs @masclover111 @mai5mai @teenagedramaqueenlisa
i’m sorry to everyone it didn’t let me tag, some of your blogs weren’t popping up 😭 merry christmas loves, stay safe - vamp <3
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hmslusitania · 21 days
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Eddie stares at the screen. It’s not — the title is…
Well.
Fuck.
He’s read enough of the Reddit thread in question to know that he’s phrasing it right but he doesn’t—
It feels bad to post something that starts with “AITA my [32M] best friend [32M] just started dating someone new and for the first time since I’ve known him its a guy [39M]. Every time I think about them together it makes me want to puke and/or die and/or punch somebody. I’ve never thought I was homophobic before. One of my closest friends at work (and our workplace is like a family in the most literal aside from blood sense) is a lesbian and I have a regular wine night with her wife and we’ve never had an issue!”
But like. He doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t exactly ask Buck about it. And he’s not going to text Hen or Karen to ask them to delve into their deeper analyses of his psyche and whether or not they’ve secretly picked up “”””signs”””” that he’s homophobic. If they have? He doesn’t want to know. Because he’s not a homophobe! He isn’t! Really truly!!
At least he’s never been before when it was Hen and Karen and Michael and David and people he'd met on calls and even Josh (his issues with Josh had been 1,000% unrelated to Josh’s sexuality). But for whatever reason, Buck and Tommy dating — Buck and Tommy kissing — Buck and Tommy having sex and—
He loses the plot in favour of unidentifiable rage.
He makes the Reddit post.
He is primarily asked for additional context.
“Well. Uh. Let’s call him Stag. Has been my best friend since we defused a bomb together I don’t even know like five years ago? And he’s like the best friend I’ve ever had to the point where I’ve changed my will so that he’s the person who gets my son in the event of my untimely demise. And like! I like his boyfriend! I really do, it’s not that I’m worried that if something happens to me and Stag has to take custody of our son I’m worried about how [let’s call him Gatling] would do with our kid. He’s a cool guy and tbh we were friends first and he’d probably make a wicked stepdad to anyone’s kid, but also… okay it got late and I don’t think this is an accurate representation of the situation but! Anyway! Additional information of note being that I like both of them as people a whole bunch so the idea that I might be activating latent homophobic responses just because of either of them as people is nonsense haha.”
And he isn’t! Eddie isn’t worried about how Tommy would be as a stepdad. Really! It doesn’t even give him hives to think about dying anymore.
It takes until he wakes up in a cold sweat at three in the morning for him to realise that he doesn’t think of Buck as Chris’s stepdad. He thinks of him as Chris’s other dad, who is — who is dating someone a whole lot like Eddie — who is dating another man who isn’t Eddie — and…
And, well.
Well, fuck.
“Edit: false alarm I am not homophobic. But I AM in love with, uh, Stag even though he’s dating Gatling. How do I tell him?”
Because sometimes, asking relationship advice from complete strangers online is the only reasonable way to proceed. And Eddie can only hope, desperately, that they have the answers.
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colourstreakgryffin · 2 months
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Omg I love your platonic alastor writings!!
Can you do headcanons for alastor x daughter!reader where the reader is now in her teens and gets embarrassed when alastor still treats her like a little girl?
Haha! Alastor being that embarrassing dad who doesn’t want his princess to grow up be like— I definitely can, darling. Consider it done! Kinda short… but done!
Alastor- Old Habits, Never Die
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God… Dad, please stop. You’re embarrassing me!
This is all you think. Being the daughter of the Radio Demon is pretty hard. As a little girl, you didn’t have to deal with much but now as a teenager, almost around eighteen, you have begun trying to befriend Sinners(with very little success) and the small amount of friends you manage to make with the much older sinners around you, it ends with them creeped out by your Dad
You want to lash out at Alastor for the way he treats you but you can’t really blame him. He just loves you but then again, you hate how he always babies and coddles you. You’re not seven years old anymore; you’re seventeen, you don’t want people thinking you’re some spoiled brat or a overly daddy’s little princess
You’re already universally feared for having traces of your father’s immense powers and as well as universally disliked by a big handful of sinner demons for being your father’s daughter. So, you’re pretty isolated as a whole and Alastor just makes it worse for you
Alastor isn’t aware that the way he acts is humiliating and degrading towards you. He just wants his babygirl to never grow up and he can’t just watch you go out shopping on your own and see you wear bigger clothing on your bigger body and not cry hysterically at seeing his beloved daughter grow up
Alastor just wants one more day of you as a little five year old again. Where you’d run up to him and cry about your nightmares, and he’d put you on his chest, sit down in a rocking chair and sing you back to sleep. He loved those days, he wants just one more. He misses his babygirl so young and little and childish
Alastor is that type of dad who wants to stay in touch with you and your friends so he tries to do the ‘cool stuff’ you younglings like, in hopes to bond with you further, he can’t bond with you over dolls and dress up. He’ll bond with you through the new things you like
Alastor, of course, won’t stop treating you like a little girl. He’ll talk baby-like, he’ll get you food, he’ll take your belongings to hold himself, he’ll hold your hand, he’ll do your hair up for you. He does everything for you and is so blind in his fatherly love for you, to realise how selfish his actions are and how careless he’s become, as a result of not wanting to lose you as a child
Overtime, this unintentionally harsh treatment begins to strain your relationship with Alastor and you grow less patient with him, establishing boundaries and ordering him to stop inserting himself into your life
He doesn’t take that kindly. Alastor is offended and angry that you’re annoyed with him. He is your father, he has every right to be apart of your life, social or literal and he begins to argue with you
You have to constantly lay down the truth that you’re not a little girl anymore and Alastor refuses to accept it as fact. He wants you to stay young and childish, and he won’t ever admit that he knows your time as a child is up and he doesn’t want to lose that little princess
But don’t worry, Alastor will soften up and try decrease this behaviour and treatment when he realises you’re avoiding him and he tries his best to stop treating you like a little girl… despite, all he sees when he looks at his teenage daughter is the little deer-featured child who ran to him when she was scared…
He’ll try his darnest stop it for his babygirl, even if he doesn’t want to. He just wants you happy more than anything
“Darling… look. Look, I get it. I’ve been acting rather… unfavourably towards you and I apologise, it’s just… hard to have watched you go from so little to so big… it’s… it kinda hurts”
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farmcores · 2 years
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wandasfifthwife · 1 month
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(1) a classic get-together | I got a bad idea series
—> masterlist
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southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader
tw: mention of past animal death (horse), alcohol discussion and consumption (r), r gets drunk, messy family dynamics, R is an emotional drunk lmao (enjoy the embarrassment), introduction chapter (I’m sorry if it’s boring, but this sets up the story haha)
a/n: NOT proofread. I’m so sorry for the choppy writing and if there’s any grammar or spelling errors. I’m publishing this right after I had finished writing it. Please be patience with me, I’ll edit later tonight :)
The fields that stretch in for miles and fresh breeze brings a sense of nostalgia when you step out from the car. Small rocks grind together under your feet as you make your way up towards the door. You greet your grandparents with a smile, shrugging your bag further onto your back to hug them comfortably.
“Oh dear, let me grab that for you.”
Your grandpa reaches behind you to remove the weight from your back. You thank him and turn back to your grandma.
“It’s so good to see you,” she starts, “how’s the job doing?”
“Good, pretty good.”
Your mom comes up behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder, “my sister’s family is coming behind us. Can you help them bring their stuff inside?”
You nod at her request, kicking your shoes off and following them inside. Being in the city you’ve had a few dreams about their home. Now being back in town, it feels unreal.
“You can take the guest room upstairs, I have set some blankets out since our AC doesn’t work very well keeping the chill out.”
You thank her and walk behind your grandfather towards the stairway. Each step elicits a cracking sound from the old wooden stairs. He sets your stuff on the bed and pulls you into another hug.
“It’s so good to see you again, it’s been what, almost five years?”
“That’s too long,” you relax into the hug, “it’s good to see you too.”
“We got a new horse. We’d love for you to take him out sometime to get him used to another rider.”
“Well, I can try later in the week.”
He leaves you alone, giving you time to unload your stuff into the drawers. You’re tucking your duffel under the bed when excited voices from below float into the room. There were five more entering into the room, exchanging hugs with one another.
You wonder down the stairs, a smile on your face as you greet everyone you from across. Keeping true to your promise, you walk out to their car to carry any extra luggage they had during their drive down. Your aunt pulls you into probably the tenth hug you’ve had today, and definitely not the last.
“You’ve grown so much. Last I saw you was when you were a senior in high school.”
“And since then you’ve had another son,” you squeeze her hands to show your elation, “congrats.”
She laughs and waves you off, “thank you. How’s your job been treating you?”
“It’s good,” you almost wheeze from the weight of her suitcase. Trying to drag it up the stairs was impossible, she had to help you lift.
Each hour passed brought more people until almost fifty people were residing in the house. There weren’t enough rooms for everyone. Those who didn’t have a room had booked a hotel room not too far away.
It was a flurry of people back to back. The building wasn’t small, but it wasn’t the best space to host multiple family members.
A surprised noise sounds from you when your grandpa comes up behind you and drags you towards his bedroom.
“I’ve been re-fixing the fence out there after that storm a couple weeks ago, and I found this. I want to give it to you before I forget.”
He places a heavy object into your hands. You turn your wrist, flipping the item to look at it better.
“Is this the international coin I lost as a kid?”
He nods and you look at him crazy, “how?”
“You raved over that. Came and told me you were going to be an archeologist. Now here you are in corporate.”
You roll your eyes dramatically and put it in your back pocket, “life isn’t very fair. I would have done that if I could understand math.”
“That’s alright. I’m not good at math either, I leave that to my wife,” he says with a weird laugh, leading you back into the hallway.
The youngest in the family, a cousin of yours, comes barreling towards the two of you. You’re quick to pick him up and rest him on your hip. Though having three younger siblings was a mess in and of itself, it helped you and other’s when you were able to care for the kids during events like these.
“While the others finish setting everything up, would you be alright with watching him until then?”
“I don’t mind,” your answer brings a smile to his face.
You wondered back into your bedroom, reaching into the old closet to grab a few things before heading back downstairs. He squirmed in your arms, whining about being let go so he could find the horses.
It was a matter of time before him, and the three other little ones, spent their time outside with the animals. They believed it was a 24/7 petting zoo where they could slap their hands on an animal for hours and laugh at every movement they made.
For now since the sun was beginning to set, the entertainment had to be inside. That news was seemingly the worse thing to tell him.
“But why?”
“Because it’s dark, there could be a fox out there. They’re not like the horses, they’ll bite.”
“Horses bite.”
“Yes, but for a different reason. That’s because you’re giving them food.”
He has yet to understand that horses can be devils, but now isn’t the time to scare him of the one thing he enjoys seeing. Your aunt is happy to see you with him, and she tells you such.
“Oh it’s no problem.”
“Thank you still for watching him. Once everything is set I can take him.”
“All good. I’ve done this for most of my life it’s like second nature.”
With a squeeze to your shoulder, she’s left to head back to chatting with your parents.
Your grandfather brings you to sit on the couch, letting your cousin play on the almost uncomfortable rug.
“We now have a minute to talk. How’s New York?”
“It’s beautiful, definitely smells at times.”
“Ah, just like here. Your mom told me when you got here that you’re thinking of staying up there, is that right?”
“I think so,” you look down, watching your cousin, “I feel more at peace there.”
“You mean scooping up horse manure isn’t for you? Or hauling hay? Or driving an hour to the store to get more feed?”
“No, not anymore.”
He laughs, “and I was going to ask you to help around this week.”
“Oh,” you start to feel bad, “well I don’t mind—“
He jumps up from his seat, the action causing you to jerk back, “alrighty, thank you.”
He allows no do-overs as he wonders towards the front door. His hands come to grab a nearby person and he shoves them towards you.
“I watched you get roped into work.”
“I didn’t get roped in. I was going to help regardless, or else I’d be staying here for free.”
Your younger brother grins, “or maybe it’s because I’ve had to do all of it while you’ve been gone.”
“I know, you’ve told me this every day since I’ve gotten back.”
He shrugs, “it’s the truth.”
He reaches behind himself and reaches into the cooler, handing you a can. You go to move it out of your face, but he persists.
“I know you’re a lightweight, but one drink? Gonna turn down one?”
The door opens and another group you don’t recognize walks in, you’re taking it from his hands while he’s distracted. You crack the top off on the opener beside you.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be here, it’s that I don’t want to be here with so many people,” he tells you, jumping back when the bottle cap flings at him.
“That’s because you’re an introvert.”
“I can talk to people though.”
“Are you stupid? I’m not calling you awkward, I’m saying you don’t like crowds.”
“That’s the same thing.”
He watches you drink it with a wince, “you didn’t have to do all that to prove a point. You’re still a lightweight at the end of the night.”
“No, I did that because ma’s coming toward us.”
He gives you a faux pout as you get dragged off by your grandma. She brings you to the front of the house, past where a few people had gathered in random spots of the living room.
“I wanted to introduce you because I’m not sure if you remember who they are,” she begins, and her words hit a nerve. She acts like you have dementia after a five year break, but still you put your hand out.
“It’s nice to see you again.”
“You as well,” she responds, and it’s then you realize you don’t remember who they are. The room fades slightly as you wrack your already dizzy mind for something.
Your grandma looks at you funny, “have you had something to drink already?”
In the distance you swear you hear your brother laugh. The mood grows more awkward with each minute. You’re grateful for the people around giving a sense of community while you feel like strangers to those in front of you.
“Neighbors, right? I think we met just before I left for college.”
A short conversation later and the memories appear more clearly. The two talking with your grandparents just before they had driven you to the airport. It was short, but you’re thankful you remember as it allowed you to dodge your grandma’s last question.
Your grandma seats them in the sun room and promptly leaves the three of you, saying she needed to make sure her husband wasn’t ruining the labeling of food.
“How was college?”
You look to the one with a braid, the one whose hands were rough when they shook yours, “it was alright. I graduated.”
“Glad you did what you go to college for.”
Her delivery falls flat and it makes your heart race. Your eyes slightly water, the sight making her face squeeze into confusion.
“How much have you drank tonight?”
“One,” you say with a pitiful sniffle.
“Lightweight?”
You nod and they look at you in amusement. Your eyes follow where they’re looking and they land on the half full bottle in your hands, “oh whoops my bad. Actually this is my second.”
You lift the bottle with a proud look and one has the audacity to clap. You smile silly at the affection and ramble into your city life, delving deep into the tea between you and your boss. The two stay seated, hands interwoven as they enjoy the show you’re giving them.
The wall against your bicep is cold. With the way your body was warming, your skin chased after the feeling. You find your face leaning into it before your whole body is on the ground, right by the doorway.
You were sure you were maintaining wonderful conversation with the two new faces, but everything you remember was becoming a blur. It felt like ten seconds, but it happened open the span of ten minutes. The embarrassment had completely disappeared as you laid there unsuspecting, growing incredibly wasted.
One of the women, the one you recognize as short braid, sits beside you. She puts a hand to your forehead but you try to push it off.
“No,” you cry, “you’re mean.”
“Her face is burning,” she relays the information to her wife. The two look at you in amusement as well as concern.
“I’m burning because a beautiful woman is touching me.”
Your sober self is grateful she chose to ignore what you said. Hands lift you off the ground until you’re lying down on a softer surface, and definitely colder. The pressure on your arm leaves and it spirals you downwards.
You can hear them talking in the back, a man’s voice between them. What they’re saying, you can understand but you’re not grasping anything. With your mind focused on how the cold hand left you, nothing else seems to be your focus. It’s the creaking of the door shutting that feels like you’re drowning.
“Don’t leave me,” you look blearily at the door, “please.”
You hear a laugh, but it doesn’t register as anything other than someone mocking you.
“Fine, then leave me here like to always do.”
“Nobody’s leaving you.”
“No it’s okay. You just hate me”
The expression and dramatic nature exuding from you is hilarious. Every small laugh coming from you throws them off when more tears glisten down your cheeks
“Nobody here is upset at you, angel,” wanda’s hand rubs gentle circles against your back. You find yourself leaning into it, the tears stopping as your mind clears. The floor creeks and you’re being sit up.
“I don’t feel super great,” you mumble to them, “I’m sorry for being annoying.”
“Not annoying,” wanda responds and tilts to your head back, “I have some water and I’d like you to drink some, okay?”
After you’re laying back on the bed immediately. The world had begun to feel dizzying, almost nauseating when she held you upright. Without her hand there, you’d surely pass out.
The room is suddenly too quiet. You had tried to see them but the overhead light took a stab at your already overwhelming headache.
“We’re still here. How’re you feeling?”
“Death.”
Wanda laughs softly and Natasha feels your forehead again, “you don’t feel as hot.“
Your mother enters in then, and you attempt to sit up but you wince. A cry spewing from you, “I can’t see anymore, mom.”
She clicks her teeth, “mom told me you drank too much. Should’ve known. Thank you for helping, I can deal with her from here.”
Natasha’s wrists are enclosed in a tight embrace, your hands squeezing the life out of them with as much strength as you had.
“Please don’t leave me with her,” you whine, “she’ll toss me around.”
The clock beside them reads 11:28PM. She looked to it and sighed, deciding it was too late to deal with anything. Wanda stood from the bed, crossing the room to stand by her.
“I love her but she’s as stubborn as a mule.”
“Completely up to you, but we could her stay on our mattress downstairs?”
“That’s fine. I don’t think she’ll allow any of us to help her, I mean look at her.”
You were half lying in Natasha’s lap, tangled with her body. Dried tear marks lined your cheeks, dust from the floor lining your jeans.
It was a journey trying to drag your body down the hallway. A moment collapsed where you tripped over the rug. The best plan of action was Natasha carrying you princess style. Your grandma got a glimpse from where she sat in the living room.
She rushed to your side, “you taking her back to your place?”
“Only if that’s alright with you. She starts to cry almost everytime we begun to leave.”
“Absolutely,” she pats her shoulder with a slight laugh, “she got wasted, I could tell right away. I’ll have to talk to her brother, he’s collapsed on her bed right now. I’m sure he’s initiating something.”
They wish you a goodnight, stepping back and letting them through. You tilt your head back once they’ve stepped outside.
“Feels nice.”
You back far enough that Wanda reaches a hand to cup your head. Natasha adjusts her hold on you while looking to Wanda.
“I’m betting she’s going to get sick. Our guest room is the closest to the bathroom?”
“I won’t get sick of you,” you tuck your head under her neck. The first minute of the breeze was wonderful, but since then and due to your lack of layers, you’re relying on her body heat.
It gets darker the further you walk from the house. Wanda takes out her phone, using the flashlight to help guide their steps.
The pond nearby holds a connection of small critters, their sounds echoing through the trees. The married couple makes small conversation. Every two minutes they’re trying to keep you awake, but it grew difficult.
“Hey, stay awake. We’re almost there, you can see the porch light.”
“I can’t see shit, I’m drunk.”
Natasha laughs at the quip, enjoying the look of annoyance on her wife’s face. Wanda walks up the porch first, the keys jingling in her hand as she searches for the right one. Their home smells like clean fabrics and floral perfume. Your eyes grow heavy, each step and soft sound luring you in deeper. The gentle nudge does nothing to stop you completely falling under this time.
masterlist | next chapter
taglist
@simpforlizzie @huggingkoalas @yvungmxshroom @hella-hecka-gay @sgm616
@sappic-simp4015 @puta1 @natty-taffy @the-chocolate-void @scarlizziee @mysticalmoonlight7 @jazzabebev @delulu-bayolet-era @olicity-boo @esposadejoyhuerta @marvelwomen-simp
(I tried to tag everyone who commented, if it didn’t work it’s because it didn’t let me!)
503 notes · View notes
harunayuuka2060 · 1 month
Text
Ace: Damn... MC's lessons are more difficult than I expected.
Deuce: *still memorizing the spell he had learned earlier*
Ace: Hey, Deuce. Give it a break.
Deuce: *frowns*
Epel: Hm? Who is that?
*Sees a tall, handsome guy with long white hair and a wolf's tail and ears*
Ace: Your relative, Jack?
Jack: Huh? No. I don't think I know him.
Epel: Ack! He's approaching us!
The guy: *stops in front of them* ...
The guy: *pulls out a piece of paper from his sleeves* *then reads what is written in there*
The guy: Hello, I am a friend of MC. Can you take me to them?
Ace, Deuce, Epel, and Jack: ...
Ace: Hey, do you think he's one of their husbands?
Jack: I wouldn't be surprised if that is the case.
Ace: Haha! Yes, yes! We'll take you to them!
MC: *in the middle of teaching second years*
MC: No, Kalim... Not anyone can eat the apple of truth...
Kalim: Why?
Jamil: Didn't you just hear them say that a single lie will cause you a painful death after eating that apple?
Kalim: Eh? It tastes like a normal apple to me.
MC: You sweet, summer child.
Azul: MC, can I-
MC: No. Unless you grow them yourselves.
Azul: *sigh*
Ace: *walking into the classroom, together with the others* Yo, teach!
MC: Hm? Yes?
Riddle: Ace, we're in the middle of the class. What are you first years doing here?
Deuce: You see, Housewarden Rosehearts-
Ace: We met one of your husbands.
MC: ...You mean one of the brothers? *pulls out the phone to check if they have any messages* *makes a confused expression*
MC: Who? I thought they all went to an amusement park with Grim.
Epel: It's not one of the brothers.
Jack: Yeah. He's a werewolf like me. I think?
MC: Huh?
Epel: Oh, yeah! He's with us!
Epel: Sir! MC is here!
*The guy walks in*
MC: ...
The guy: *walks up to them* *then hugs them*
MC: *blinks in confusion*
The guy: *speaks in a language no one could understand except those who have met him before*
MC: !!!
MC: Wh-
MC: White Wolf Of The Frost Flowers?
The guy: *chuckles* *nodding*
MC: Eh- How?? It hasn't been five hundred years since we gave you the gift.
The guy: I miss MC. *his tail wagging*
The second years and first years: ...
Leona: Great. A new one?
MC: ...
MC: White Wolf, how did you get here?
The guy: *speaks in his own language*
MC: Ah.
MC: A portal opened to your world and it led you here- WHAT?
Professor Crewel: ...
Professor Crewel: This is one, handsome wolf you've got.
MC: Professor, please not now.
Professor Trein: MC, you need to sort this out.
MC: I'm trying...
Crowley: *tries to talk to the White Wolf*
Crowley: You, big, big wolf?
MC: ...
MC: Headmage, he can understand our language.
Crowley: ...
Crowley: *clears throat* You should've said sooner. Anyway, *to the White Wolf* do you have a name?
The guy: *looks at MC* *says something to them*
MC: Oh. I see. He wants to be called "Frost".
Frost: *nods* *then smiles* Thank you.
Solomon: This is a problem.
Lucifer and the brothers: Yes.
Diavolo: What could the White Wolf Of The Frost Flowers want from MC?
Frost: *pulls another piece of paper from his sleeve*
Frost: I am here to form a contract with them.
Frost: I want to become their familiar.
MC: ...
MC: At least he doesn't want to take me anymore. Haha.
Solomon and the others: They are trying to ignore the real situation here...
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phoenixkaptain · 1 year
Text
I have So Many thoughts about Scum Villain I have so many feelings I am overflowing with Them I am drowning in it I am dying
Shen Qingqiu telling everyone (including himself!) that he didn’t mourn for Binghe, okay? He did not mourn for him! He just repaired his first sword and buried it in his back garden so he could sit by it for hours at a time! He just felt so guilty that he concocted an entire elaborate ploy to off himself but still live so that Luo Binghe could get revenge on him! He just stopped eating because he didn’t have to eat in the first place and food tastes bland when it’s not made by Binghe! He called out Binghe’s name and compared Gongyi Xiao to Binghe and thought about Binghe at least once every three sentences, but he was Not mourning! He was just vibing, okay, you don’t get it-
The extra where Shen Qingqiu sees Luo Binghe during the five years he was dead. And Luo Binghe is working diligently and always busy and makes food everyday like he’s waiting for Shen Qingqiu to wake up. And he says he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it, but he takes it for years and would’ve taken it for even longer if he had to. And he holds Shen Qingqiu’s body to feed him qi and Shen Qingqiu recognizes it as the way he held Luo Binghe when he got hurt. And even though loterally everyone thought Luo Binghe was doing awful things to Shen Qingqiu’s body, all evidence points to him just holding it. Luo Binghe never touched Shen Qingqiu inappropriately and he was so sad and he was so broken.
The part where Luo Binghe says “Theoretically, how would someone go about showing another person that they have strong feelings for them?”
Mobei-jun: “Have you tried beating him up three times a day?”
Luo Binghe: “Mobei-jun, you are uninvited from answering.”
Shang Qinghua thinking about Peerless Cucumber everytime he gets insulted and getting nostalgic about it, but then pretending he only “just remembered” the username when he actually meets Shen Qingqiu and finds out he’s the one Shang Qinghua has been fondly remembering for literal years. You only remembered just barely, huh, Shang Qinghua? Yeah, okay, sure…
Shen Qingqiu was purposefully pretending to be stupid so that Liu Qingge would beat up his own Bai Zhan Peak disciples. Shen Qingqiu finds out they were bullying Luo Binghe and vows to get revenge, he was purposefully playing dumb so that Liu Qingge would volunteer someone to come up and then he’d go, “whoop, haha, silly me, you were right, Shidi :)”
Shang Qinghua comes back from a trip and everyone is talking about how weird Shen Qingqiu is acting and he’s like “What? What happened? How is he acting strange?” and Yue Qingyuan replies “He had a peaceful conversation with me for two hours” and Shang Qinghua immediately goes “He’s cursed, he’s definitely cursed, is he dying??”
Everyone else: “Shen-shixiong is being nice to us…”
Yue Qingyuan: “Is there any way to get Shen-shidi back to normal?”
Everyone else, internally: “Maybe, but I’m not looking for it.”
The entire Holy Mausoleum section. It’s stuck with me for two years. I love all of it. From beginning to end. The entire section, the moment Shen Qingqiu wakes up in a coffin to the moment Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe get out. All of it. Every single thing that happens is comedy gold and I will never get over it.
But of course there are highlights.
Shen Qingqiu, knocking on a coffin he can’t open, trying to hide from the things wandering around trying to kill him: “Excuse me, may I come in?”
Tianlang-jun, inside that coffin: “Sure.”
Shen Qingqiu just casually carting his boy Binghe around. Hanging out. Trying not to die. Getting stabbed multiple times and having plants grow out of his legs. The usual.
The Old Huan Hua Palace Master being a human stick. At first, Shen Qingqiu is like “omg Binghe is insane.” Then, after the Old Palace Master acts creepy towards Binghe and kind of implies creepiness about Binghe’s mom, Shen Qingqiu goes: “No, wait, yeah, this guy deserves this and worse.”
Shen Qingqiu: sits up in his coffin
Meng Mo: “I can’t help you wake up Luo Binghe.”
Shen Qingqiu: lays back down in his coffin
Meng Mo: “What are you- Are you going back to sleep?!”
Shen Qingqiu calling Zhuzhi-lang “Xizhi-lang” and Zhuzhi-lang tripping over his own feet then just sighing and letting him do whatever
Tianlang-jun: “Why do you know so much about the Holy Mausoleum?”
Shen Qingqiu:
Shen Qingqiu: “LOOK a DISTRACTION!”
Luo Binghe: “Why do you know so much about the Holy Mausoleum?”
Shen Qingqiu: “I read about it in one of Qing Jing Peak’s books.”
Luo Binghe, previous head disciple who has all of the books that have ever been on Qing Jing Peak memorised: “I see. I don’t recall that one.”
Shen Qingqiu:
Shen Qingqiu: “Oh hey look, a distraction-“
Tianlang-jun asking Shen Qingqiu to help him up and then his arm popping off.
Tianlang-jun just generally being the weirdest fucking guy. Tries to be a wingman for his nephew. Helped conspire with his nephew to bring a dead guy back to life. Has been stuck under a mountain and says it was for ten years, despite the fact that it was almost certainly longer than that. Sings the song about Shen Qingqiu fucking his son and then bluntly asks “Did you fuck my son?” Says “I was looking forward to meeting you” specifically because of the song about Shen Qingqiu fucking his son.
Tianlang-jun, just in general, is one of my favourite parts of Scum Villain. Like, he’s so… he’s my poor little meow meow. He is my scrungly. He literally falls apart and is just kind of like “Again? Dang.” A bunch of cultivators show up to thwart him and he’s like “I expected more of you.” He realizes that Shen Qingqiu, Zhuzhi-lang, and Luo Binghe were all in the same bed together and is like “Does Shen Qingqiu always need two others?” He walks in on that scene, only seeing Zhuzhi-lang and Shen Qingqiu, and says “Continue, please, don’t let me interrupt.” Finds out his wifey wasn’t apart of the plot to trap him under the mountain and even tried to save him and immediately melts like the marshmallow-hearted maiden he is.
Pre-trapped-under-a-mountain Tianlang-jun is a treat too. Finds his nephew and immediately says “You’re so ugly. Have a bunch of soldiers and land. Bye.” Meets Su Xiyan and becomes insufferable. “Zhuzhi-lang, am I ugly? Zhuzhi-lang, don’t you think my face is worth more than two silver pieces? Zhuzhi-lang, human women are so different than what I’ve read. Zhuzhi-lang, be honest, am I obnoxious?” He literally tries to barter over how attractive his face is and is legitimately pleased when Su Xiyan says it’s worth a gold coin. Zhuzhi-lang describes him as being the sugar baby and Su Xiyan being his sugar daddy, but Tianlang-jun not only doesn’t mind, he even seems to enjoy it. Zhuzhi-lang describes him as a pure-hearted maiden falling for a roguish cultivator. Zhuzhi-lang has the terrible realization that, in his own metaphor, he’s the handmaiden who follows her innocent lady around trying to keep her out of trouble.
My favourite part will always be the reveal though. The reveal that, after a whole novel dreading it, Luo Binghe is the antagonist. Luo Binghe purposefully led these cultivators and monks and priests to Tianlang-jun and let them all think Tianlang-jun was the one fuelling Xin Mo. Tianlang-jun says “I can’t even fuel Zhuzhi-lang’s human form, how could I fuel Xin Mo?” and everyone feels like they were thrust under cold water. Luo Binghe stands there and smiles and adjusts his sleeves and doesn’t care because none of these cultivators can touch him, most of them were taken out during the fight with Tianlang-jun, and Luo Binghe has basically already won.
He says that he hates Shen Qingqiu choosing others over him. Shen Qingqiu always chooses someone or something else. Shen Qingqiu always leaves when he asks him to stay. Luo Binnghe says that he’s going to make sure Shen Qingqiu has no other choice. If Luo Binghe isn’t his first choice, then Binghe will become his only choice. He’s willing to destroy the human realm and the demon realm both so that Shen Qingqiu will only be able to choose him.
One of the monks is like “That’s kind of fucked up. You’re just going to make him hate you.”
Luo Binghe: “Shizun can hate me all he wants, as long as he never leaves. And he won’t be able to leave.”
Luo Binghe is the ultimate villain. He is literally unstoppable. He is almost totally unkillable. He’s the final boss, but he’s a boss who’s always scripted to win. He’s more powerful than all of them combined and he’s gone actually insane because he can’t control Xin Mo. Xin Mo is feeding all his insecurities and Luo Binhe decided that the cure was to tie Shen Qingqiu to him with a leash too tight to escape.
He is absolutely terrifying, in this moment. He’s insane. He’s outright telling everyone that he’s destroying everything they love because if he doesn’t, Shen Qingqiu might choose one of them over him.
He’s - so - cool!
Luo Binghe is always cool, he’s so badass, but this moment just cements how absolutely unhinged he is!! He is insane!! He is manipulative and silver-tongued and adaptable!! He is grabbing the narrative with both hands and forcing it to be the way he wants it to be! He’s so cool, he’s so very cool, and I get chills when I read this part, he’s too cool!!
And I’ve already made a long post about how meaningful it is that Shen Qingqiu ultimately does choose Luo Binghe. Even out of a world-ending event, he still chooses Luo Binghe. Shen Qingqiu only didn’t choose him before because he didn’t know that was an option. For the rest of the novel and all the extras that take place post-canon, he seeks out Binghe. He’s the sticky one.
He says he hurt Luo Binghe’s feelings by saying he didn’t want to sleep in his bed and he’s upset because he was going to give in if Binghe just pushed a bit further! He thinks Binghe is in danger and takes him to Qing Jing Peak and tells everyone not to bully him and tells Luo Binghe that he can beat up the Bai Zhan Peak disciples as much as he wants, as long as they don’t die. He patches him up and just generally sticks to him. In the extra where Binghe shrinks, he takes baby Binghe everywhere. He holds his hand and he’s obsessed with how cute he is and he can’t get over how cute he is and he wants to show off to everyone else how cute he is. He’s having the time of his life, and only gets upset when everyone thinks baby Binghe is his child because Luo Binghe is at least eight, when would he have had him? And he’s a man, that too.
(Ming Fan: “I just assumed Luo Binghe was a demon and demons could do what they wanted.”)
Shen Qingqiu travels everywhere with Binghe and teases Binghe and likes admiring Binghe because Binghe is so handsome and charming and wonderful and-
The succubus extra where he goes to a succubus’ cave with Liu Qingge and is too flustered to look at the naked women everywhere and is very impressed by Liu Qingge’s disinterest in all of them. Gets his fortune read because he thought it might be fun and is like “…yeah, okay, sure, like this is true” and it turns out to be completely true. Thinks Madam Meiyin is weird because she never even officially joined Binghe’s harem, what a weirdo, who wouldn’t want to join Binghe’s harem? Pushes Liu Qingge into a pond to help him get over sex pollen.
Shen Qingqiu is such a madlad. He transmigrates and is like “I’m not going to be stupid and panic and make everyone suspicious of me 🙄” then becomes the most suspicious man on the planet by treating his martial siblings and disciples slightly better than dirt. He’s as obsessed with Luo Binghe as Binghe is with him, but pretends (poorly) that he isn’t. Agrees to do what Binghe wants to do while admitting that Binghe is definitely manipulating him, but Binghe is so cute, how can he say no? Thinks his little white lotus disciple is as pure as a maiden while Luo Binghe is over there desperately trying not to get a boner.
Shen Qingqiu never figures out that Luo Binghe messed up excersizes on purpose as an excuse to cling to him. It doesn’t even cross his mind. He thinks Luo Binghe was just clumsy. He thinks it’s a bit weird, since Luo Binghe is so good as everything else, but figures it’s just something Binghe was going through. Literally never crosses his mind that it was purposeful. Doesn’t even pop up as an option. He remains completely oblivious to that, even after Luo Binghe literally tells him he’s been horny for him since he was a disciple. Shen Qingqiu just does not realize.
I also really like MoShang, I promise, I find their dynamic to be honestly quite sweet, especially since Mobei-jun is just a spoiled princess who isn’t used to having to ask for what he wants. Luo Binghe and Mobei-jun respect each other and might even be a bit fond of each other, but good God, Mobei-jun, do not give me romantic advice, I swear. Shang Qinghua is constantly like “Cucumber-bro is so stupid, how can he not notice Binghe’s feelings?” and Mobei-jun is behind him slowly counting to five thousand in an attempt not to punch anymore holes through the walls. Great dynamic, 10/10, at least Shen Qingqiu eventually realizes that Binghe’s into him, Shang Qinghua doesn’t get the hint.
I like Yue Qingyuan being like “My sword is my life. Quite literally, it is my life. Accidentally combined my life force in my sword, whoops, now I lose a few years everytime I pull my sword out ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯”
Qi Qingqi is constantly like “Shen Qingqiu, the most annoying man I know. I would sell him for a half-eaten, unsalted tortilla chip. I hate this man’s guts. He is staring at my darling prized disciple but not even in a horny way. He is obsessed with Luo Binghe and never stops bragging about him. He acts like he’s delicate just to get out of having to ride a horse. He’s so lame, so cringe, a loser, the worst.” And near the end she’s like “I guess Shen-shixiong isn’t actually the absolute worst man ever- What do you mean he chose to date the heavenly demon disciple who not only caused him to die, but also threatened to destroy the entire world and everyone on it?! Shen Qingqiu is the stupidest piece of shit man I swear I’m going to murder him with my bare hands and no body will blame me, they’ll probably thank me-“
Mu Qingfang: “Shen-shixiong is being… kind to me? Shen-shixiong… smiled? Shen-shixiong is… being the most reckless man alive, oh no, Shen-shixiong, no!”
Liu Qingge, hanging up pictures of Shen Qingqiu: “I hate Shen Qingqiu.”
All of Luo Binghe’s wives are in sorry states. Well, all of them aside from Ning Yingying, who is living her best life as number two Shizun supporter (number one is Luo Binghe), and Liu Mingyan, who is also living her best life, but by writing porn about her brother’s closest (read: only) friend and a demon. Sha Hualing is in constant suffering because Luo Binghe is a tyrant and also had the gall to ask her for advice on getting into another man’s pants. The Little Palace Mistress was certainly very rude, but Luo Binghe threw her emotional support whip into acid. That’s a bit rude. The others are either dead or Luo Binghe just never notices him because he’s too distracted trying to woo Shen Qingqiu.
Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan got off lucky. Ning Yingying, especially, really drew the luckiest lot. She went from an airhead who accidentally said things that got her buddy in trouble to a talented cultivator who purposefully says things that get her into fights. Love her picking fights with anyone who badmouths her Shizun. She tried so hard to share the number 1 Shizun fan spot with Luo Binghe, but probably decided that she didn’t want to die and backed off. She apologizes to Luo Binghe because she knows he likes to be the only one to clean Shen Qingqiu’s house. The bestest girl.
Speaking of Bing-ge, I love him. That should be obvious (I wrote a whole fic just to let him be happy) but I really like him. I like when he says “Is this about last time we met? It was on me, Shizun, I swear…” like he didn’t rip Shen Qingqiu’s arm off. I like when he’s fucking pissed that he’s losing and furious that it’s to this weaker, insignificant version of himself who is happy and in love and Shen Qingqiu cares about him and he got to taste that, just briefly, just barely he got to taste how it felt to be loved by Shen Qingqiu, only for a day, he got to feel an ounce of the easy affection and love that didn’t have to lead to sex and that was protective of him instead of expecting him to be protective of them. Shen Qingqiu didn’t expect him to be the strong one, didn’t expect him to be the powerful demon lord, had no expectations at all aside from expecting affection.
And he says “Come with me” like he’s begging for it. He doesn’t understand. He feels like it’s unfair that he didn’t get a loving Shizun. He wants that love. He wants to be chosen. And, ultimately, he leaves, but it just left an impact on me. The way he expected to find a catch but only found that Shen Qingqiu was willing to die for him.
Anyway, all that said, Scum Villain’s pretty okay. I only lie awake thinking about it occasionally. It’s alright.
3K notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 3 months
Note
Can you please write Older! Eddie x reader, where Eddie presents Reader with Wayne or his friends but they don't trust in reader, but then she proves them wrong, and they're like, she's good for Eddie or something like that? (Maybe Wayne will be more interesting to me personally bc he's Eddie's uncle, but I can completely see the Hellfire Club and Wayne all being like, we don't trust her!)
-🩷
I had most of this written in the beginning of the month but couldn't find the motivation to write the perfect ending. But! I just finished it and hopefully it's an ending that made the story worth it. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻
Young girls and trust don't mix
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Eddie was in his 40s and struggled to find anyone. He'd been single for years and never found out what falling in love was. He slept around and never had an empty bed, but there wasn't a spark or anything. He was a rockstar and his life was on the road. He prepared to never be tied down.
It was a shock to everyone when Eddie released to the world that he had a girlfriend, and more of a shock when they learned she was in her twenties. The headlines went crazy and girls were filled with envy. The most wanted bachelor was now off the roaster. And when Wayne heard the news, he was immediately concerned.
He wanted Eddie to find a nice girl and have a family. A young girl? Wayne didn't believe she was going to lead him into a marriage. She was too young for that and Wayne feared she was around for the fame and fun.
~~~
"Wayne, I don't want to talk about this again!" Eddie groaned, he sat on the small couch in his tour bus. Y/N's head rested on his lap as she skimmed through a magazine.
"Eddie, I'm just telling you! Dating a girl that young doesn't seem logical. Look into the future, like five years, do you think she'll still be around?"
"Yes," Eddie said without missing a beat.
"Edward, you met her after your show, right? She's a fan and you know how dangerous and manipulative a fangirl can be." Wayne warned. A conversation both men had over and over. Yet, none of it changed Eddie's mind.
"Night Wayne." Eddie sighed and hung up. He took a deep breath to calm his anger and chucked the phone across the bus.
"Still doesn't like me, huh?" Y/N said as she skimmed the magazine, but her eyes looked up to meet his.
She couldn't lie, it pained her that the most important person in Eddie's life didn't have positive thoughts about her. She understood Wayne's worries and she wished she found a way to prove him wrong. She knew she was young, but there wasn't a doubt in her mind that she'd walk down the aisle to Eddie. She wanted his hand in hers forever.
"I just don't get it! I've been with you for almost a year and he still fights me on it. He thinks you are a groupie since you go to all the shows with me."
"I know, babe," Y/N sighed, she sat up and cuddled into his lap. "but! He hasn't met me yet. Your last show is in Hawkins, then we'll have a few months for me to win him over. He might need to meet me to trust me. All he has is tabloids, of course, he's skeptical."
"But why isn't my word good enough?" Eddie groaned, his face in her neck as he breathed in her sweet scent.
"Because only idiots fall in love." She teased as she poked his side. "He just thinks you blinded, love."
"I'm going to make him love you. Just like I do." Eddie promised.
"Maybe not like you do is a good idea." She joked.
"Haha." Eddie faked a laugh as he nibbled at her neck. She giggled and squirmed.
Y/N vowed to make Wayne accept her.
~~~
After a few more days of sold-out shows and arguments over the phone with Wayne, Eddie's show in Hawkins arrived. Eddie was extra nervous about the show since Wayne would be there and Y/N was supposed to be meeting him. Eddie wasn't sure what he'd do if Wayne didn't change his mind about her. He didn't want to break up but he didn't want to live with the pit in his stomach of the two most important people in his life not getting along.
Y/N was focusing on Eddie's eyes as she applied the black eyeliner when Wayne was escorted into the dressing room.
"There the big rockstar!" Wayne joked, Y/N stepped back to allow Eddie to stand up and embrace the older man in a tight hug. She smiled at the moment as both refused to let go first. Y/N knew how important it was for Eddie to have Wayne here. To see him perform after years and years of not making it. Tonight was the first night Wayne would see Eddie as the rockstar he finally was.
Wayne pulled back with a smile, his eyes never looked to the right to see Y/N.
"I can't wait to see ya perform!" Wayne said the anxiety in Eddie's stomach tightened.
"This is the biggest crowd of the tour. I think I might barf." Eddie admitted. He was terrified. He hated coming back to Hawkins, to a town where he was nothing but scum. The rest of the world loved him, but what if home still didn't? What if he went out there and everyone hated him?
"Baby, you will do amazing," Y/N reassured him, her words caused their heads to turn. Both Wayne and Eddie looked at her with two different expressions. Eddie, who looked grateful and soft. Wayne, looked like he wished she didn't speak.
"Wayne, this is my girlfriend, Y/N." Eddie proudly said as he wrapped his arm around her waist. She smiled and held out her hand, Wayne stepped forward and shook it.
"Pleasure to meet you, Sir." She said as their hands released each other.
"Right, so Eddie! Where will I be sitting?"
"Next to my girl," Eddie said with a big smile
~
Y/N walked silently with Wayne as they were escorted into the front row of the stadium. People screaming as she passed through. She waved and smiled, being as polite as she could. Wayne tried to not roll his eyes as she soaked in the fame. Another thing Wayne was always telling Eddie about.
"So we'll sit and he gets about half an hour to do his vocal exercises then he'll be out," Y/N said, sitting down in the small chair. She tried to ignore how awkward the air felt. She took a minute to look at the crowd, and it truly was the biggest crowd she'd ever seen.
She and Wayne sat in silence as they waited for Eddie to come on. But Y/N couldn't help but notice the clock struck 8, and Eddie still wasn't on the stage. She tried not to worry and figured the stage management was running behind.
She stood up when Eddie's manager came rushing towards her.
"Y/N? Eddie is asking for you." Eddie's manager said as he whispered into her ear, she nodded and turned to Wayne. "I'll be right back!" And raced after his manager. Wayne didn't think twice about standing up and following behind her.
~
Eddie was panicking. He made the mistake of looking at the crowd, and now he couldn't feel his legs. He sat on the floor, hurdled up, and ate at his fingernails.
"Eds?" He heard Y/N call from outside the door, and she softly knocked. She waited a second before she opened the door, her heart cracked seeing a nervous Eddie huddled on the floor.
"What's wrong?" She asked as she sat on the floor. Eddie didn't speak but moved to be in her arms. It was like their bodies communicated as Eddie began to relax.
"It's okay to be nervous, but trust me, they will love you. They are your fans and here to support you." She encouraged them as she rubbed his hand.
"What if I'm not good enough to be something good in this town," Eddie confessed. He was too ashamed to look up at her and to see Wayne.
"Nonsense. You were always something good. They never learned who you were, because if they did, they'd love you. They'd see how sweet, creative, and funny you are. But this is their chance to treat you the way you always deserved. Go show them what they missed out on."
Wayne watched as Eddie jumped up with a new confidence, the atmosphere of the room lifting as he threw his guitar over his shoulder. He felt ashamed of the way he acted, it was easy to tell Y/N was the best thing that ever happened to Eddie. In a shitty town that only gave him hell and a family that was filled with betrayal. He still managed to find someone to bring his spirits up.
Maybe she deserved more credit than Wayne thought.
~
Wayne watched as Eddie performed his life. And he couldn't help but embrace the energetic energy Y/N brought. She sang every song, knew every lyric, and danced perfectly to every beat. It was clear that she had every part of his songs memorized. He also noticed how much Eddie looked back to her, his eyes landed on her every few minutes. Then a small smile appeared before his eyes moved on.
There was something really special about the relationship Wayne was seeing, and he knew he accepted it right then and there.
~~~
After the show, Wayne apologized for his actions and words. But Y/N didn't hold it against him. She understood where he came from and was happy to have changed his mind.
Eddie was grateful Wayne gave her the chance because the sight of them getting along was the best thing Eddie got to experience.
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lostfracturess · 4 months
Text
【 ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇꜱ 】 ch. 02
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x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)
x summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.
x wc 6.1 k
x warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.
x author's note this chapter was partly influenced by my upcoming pharmacology exam haha. dive in and let me know what you think—i love hearing your thoughts! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡
series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad
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Your eyes burned.
The words on the pages before you began to blur.
The library was quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustle of pages and the occasional distant footsteps. The stillness only amplified the dull ache throbbing behind your temples.
It was late, well past the time when most students had left, but you were still there, surrounded by anatomy textbooks and notes. 
"First-year."
You were so engrossed in your studies that you didn't notice Gojo until he was standing right in front of you—a startling display of arrogance against the muted library backdrop. You didn't bother looking up.
"I've been looking for you," he announced. "You weren't in the lab today. I'd needed you."
"Back on the research project?" You flipped a page, your tone deliberately flat.
"More or less. I'm preparing my method, in case yours fails."
Now, you looked up. "It won't fail."
"Yeah, yeah, so why weren't you in the lab today?" He eyed the lukewarm cup of coffee beside your stack of books. Without asking, he grabbed the cup and took a sip.
You sighed, exhaustion washing over you. "Geto pulled me off the project until I retake my anatomy test and pass—"
Mid-sentence, Gojo abruptly spat the coffee back into the cup with a grimace. "What the hell is that?" he exclaimed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Five shots of espresso and a red bull."
He looked at you. 
You looked at him. 
Neither spoke.
He finally set the cup back down, shaking his head. "How can you drink that?"
"Unless you give me some ritalin, that's my drink of choice."
"You really are something," he said, his face still contorted into a grimace as he tried to process your—drink of choice.
You shifted your focus back to your textbook, desperate to regain your concentration. But Gojo wasn't done. He sat down on the edge of your desk and closed the textbook, urging you to give him your attention.
"So, you failed your anatomy exam?"
"Yeah," you admitted reluctantly, avoiding his gaze.
"Don't tell me, you think you don't need to know where all the bones are when you're operating on the brain."
You pressed your lips together, knowing that was exactly what you wanted to say.
"For someone as smart as you, sometimes you're really dumb," he added.
Wow. Thanks.
You shoved his hand off your textbook. "Thanks for the pep talk, Gojo. I'll see you around."
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I really do have to teach you everything, don't I?" With that, he stood up and started walking towards the exit of the library. "Follow me."
You hesitated for a moment, then gathered your things and followed him. He led you straight to his office, the click of the lock behind you feeling startlingly loud in the silence.
You stood in the middle of the room. Gojo moved to lean against his desk, his piercing gaze settling on you. You could almost feel the weight of his scrutiny, as if he were examining every inch of your being with his stupidly handsome blue eyes.
"Take off your shirt."
"What?"
"Your shirt. Take it off," he repeated, his tone dropping an octave.
A lump formed in your throat. Your heart raced as you held his gaze, somehow feeling less like a student and more like prey in that moment.
Yet somehow the intensity of his eyes made you forget all reason. So you obeyed. With trembling fingers, you lifted the shirt over your head, tossing it aside.
Shirt off, you stood exposed, vulnerable under his scrutinizing eyes. His lips twitched into a wry smile.
"Turn around." He pushed off the desk and turned to search for something.
You followed his command. You turned around, only to confront your own reflection in a full-length mirror. Your pulse roared in your ears as you watched him through the glass.
"Anatomy isn't just about memorizing diagrams and terms." He flipped open a case, revealing a glint of surgical steel. His hand hovered, then selected a single instrument.
He approached you with a scalpel balanced delicately on one finger. The metal gleamed ominously in the dim light of the room. Your eyes met his through the mirror. "It's about understanding the body as a whole, in a raw, physical way."
He stood directly behind you, his eyes fixed on your reflection. He placed the dull side of the scalpel against your neck and gently tilted your head to the side, exposing the vulnerable side of your throat.
Your breath hitched as the cold metal touched your skin, your heart racing even faster now. 
"What are you doing, Gojo?" you managed to say, your voice trembling.
"Relax, sweetheart." His other hand curled around your waist. You were yanked back, flush against him, the hard bulge in his pants hard to ignore. His eyes locked onto yours through the mirror. "I'm teaching you a lesson."
"Here's the clavicle," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper as he leaned in, his warm breath grazing the strands of your hair. He traced the delicate curve of your collarbone with the scalpel. "It's more than just a bone, it's a vital landmark for surgeons. You must know its precise location for procedures like subclavian vein catheterization."
His lips brushed the back of your neck as he shifted, gaze never leaving yours in the mirror. "The humerus connects here," he continued, guiding the scalpel along your arm. "Understanding the intricacies of joints is crucial, not just in surgery but also in diagnosis and treatment. Nerve injuries often occur near these joints, so you need to know their anatomy."
The scalpel then lightly brushed along your forearm. "And here, the radius and ulna," he continued. "Fractures in this area can have a significant impact on radial nerve function, something neurosurgeons must always be aware of—even bold ones like you," he added with a playful smile.
He then moved the scalpel along the exposed skin in the center of your chest. "The sternum," he continued, his gaze locked on yours through the mirror. The scalpel found the bone instantly, tracing its contours with an ease as if he knew your anatomy by heart. "The brachial plexus runs just below. Damage here can have significant neurological consequences."
His touch ignited a slow burn within you, making your knees weak. You leaned into him, your back arching slightly, your senses overwhelmed by the heat coursing through your body.
Your eyelids drooped. It was obvious that you were no longer paying full attention to his words.
He then moved the scalpel up, pressing the tip lightly against the back of your head. "This is the occipital bone, part of the skull that protects the brain." 
His hand then moved to the side of your neck, the scalpel lightly tracing where the spine meets the skull. "And here, the cervical vertebrae. Crucial for movement and support, but also dangerously close to the spinal cord and vertebral arteries. Missteps here during surgery can have serious consequences."
His hand reached out and grasped your hair in the back, forcing your head back to expose more skin to him. You inhaled sharply.
"And no one wants to play with fire during surgery, right?" he whispered, his breath a warm tease at your ear. His closeness was intoxicating, a teasing heat that threatened to melt all your defenses. "But perhaps you find a certain thrill in playing with danger."
"It's exhilarating, isn't it? The high stakes, the adrenaline rush of being on the edge," he mused, his eyes momentarily fixating on the scalpel in his hand. "It's almost addictive." 
Then, with a deft twist, he reversed the scalpel, its sharp edge now grazing the front of your throat, tracing a torturous line across your skin. You couldn't help but tense slightly as the cool metal met your flesh.
"This is where the hyoid bone is." His lips brushed lightly against the side of your head, his breath warm in your hair. "Understanding its location and its relation to the carotid artery is vital, especially in surgery involving the throat."
He brushed the hair from your shoulder and leaned in. A soft moan slipped from your parted lips as his hot breath touched the sensitive skin of your neck. You couldn't help but twitch slightly, taken aback by the involuntary sound that slipped from your mouth. The scalpel cut into skin. You flinched.
In an instant, Gojo's tongue was on the spot where he'd cut, licking away the blood that emerged. His other hand gripped your waist, fingers digging into your skin. His tongue traced along your throat and up to your jaw, igniting a tingling rush of sensation that made you crave more.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a velvety caress against your skin. "If my breath alone made you quiver, can you imagine what my tongue will do to you?"
He released his grip on your hair and tucked the scalpel into the back pocket of his trousers. The dangerous glint in his eyes gave way to a sly smile that played on his lips.
"Lecture is over," he said as he tossed you your shirt.
"I hope you pass, first-year."
─── ·✧· ───
You passed.
Was it thanks to Gojo or whatever.
You passed. That was all you needed to know.
The next day was the surgery. You didn't have much time to prepare. But it had to be enough. You drowned yourself in your notes, replaying every aspect of the procedure in your head. You may have even dreamed about it that night. Everything was right. Everything will work out.
It must.
You scrubbed your hands methodically as Geto and you prepared for surgery. As you peered through the small observation window into the operating room, your eyes were drawn to the gallery. It was unusually crowded today—filled with observers and cameras.
"Nervous?"
You took a deep breath, feeling the sterile mask against your face. "It's not every day you have an audience like this."
"Remember, they're here to witness history, but we're here to make it," he said with a reassuring smile. "We've prepared for this. We're ready."
Somehow that didn't make you any less nervous—more like the opposite.
"Did you hurt yourself?" he asked after a second, his gaze landing on the bandaid on your neck.
You flinched slightly. "Just a scratch."
You followed him into the operating room, the buzz of the observers fading into the background. Your focus narrowed to the task at hand.
You took your place beside the operating table, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through you. Geto gave you a final, reassuring glance before beginning the surgery. Your gaze wandered over to the gallery once more. Your heart stopped. 
There he was—Satoru Gojo, smiling at you. Somehow, your breath caught for a moment as your eyes met his. You had to look away, unable to hold his gaze. You took in a deep breath, trying to suppress the sudden heat that rose in your core.
But the heat quickly gave way to a crushing feeling in your chest.
Your worst nightmare had become a harsh reality.
Geto had tried everything—god, he had tried fucking everything. But every attempt to establish a signal between the neural device and the prosthetic remained unsuccessful. Minutes stretched into agonizing hours as you tried different techniques. The tension in the room was palpable. Every ticking second added to the pressure.
The patient's skull had been open for too long, and the risks were increasing by the minute. Panic clawed at your throat, your hands slick with sweat and trembling. 
Another attempt, another failure. 
Still no signal. No goddamn signal. 
Geto made the decision to close the patient. But it was too late. The patient had been open too long. He went into a seizure. The whole operating room was in chaos.
No.
This can't be happening. 
This was the save approach. It should have worked. Why didn't it work?
The walls are closing in. 
You couldn't breathe. 
You needed to breathe.
You spun around, your heart racing, and fled out of the operating room in a blind, chaotic rush. Geto's distant voice no longer reached you. You heard nothing. The harsh light of the corridor stung your eyes, blinding and disorienting, turning the world into a dizzying blur.
Gasping, choking for air that won't fill your lungs, you stagger down the hallway. Your hands claw at your scrub and mask, tearing them off in desperation. The world narrows to a tunnel of muffled sounds and the relentless, piercing ringing in your ears.
Suddenly, a voice cuts through the chaos. "Come with me." Gojo stepped directly into your path, his hands tightly wrapped around your wrist. He dragged you into a nearby room, away from prying eyes. Once inside, he locked the door behind him.
The room spun, the walls seemed to pulsate. Gojo's face blurred in and out of your vision as he pulled you close to him. "Breathe," he said as he cupped your face, forcing you to look into his eyes. Tears streamed down your face, sobs wracked your body. You wanted to throw up.
"I—I can't," you choked out between gasps for air.
"You can, sweetheart. Please breathe for me. I'm here."
"I killed him... I killed that patient," you gasp, the confession slicing through you like a blade, each word a fresh wound.
"No, you didn't. It's not your fault," Gojo insisted, but his voice was distant, hollow against the backdrop of your inner chaos.
"I killed him... I'm a murderer," you repeated.
Without warning, Gojo enveloped you in a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you. His warmth flowed through his touch. "No, you're not," he whispered, his hand caressing the back of your head in a soothing rhythm. "You did everything you could. It wasn't your fault."
But his words felt like they came from another world, a world where logic and reason still rule. In your world, there's only the crushing weight of guilt, the relentless echo of a life that has slipped away under your hands.
You clung to him, sobbing into his chest. "We never should have done this, we weren't ready."
"Don't say that. It's not your fault. You've done nothing wrong."
"You don't understand, I should have... I could have..." your voice broke, sobs wracked your body. Guilt was a suffocating blanket. It smothered reason, smothered the reassurances that tried to seep through.
Gojo pulled back slightly, his eyes searched for yours. "Look at me," he urged gently. "There was nothing you could have done to prevent this. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your doing."
But the guilt was a relentless tide, washing over you again. "I was responsible... I should have seen this coming," you whispered.
Gojo's hug tightened, as if he was trying to shield you from your own torment. "Stop it, sweetheart, please," he pleaded softly. "I'm here, and I'll always be here. Cry if you need to. Scream if you need to. But I'm here. Every step of the way. We'll get through this together."
As your sobs continued to wrack your body, his hold remained unwavering. His fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, offering a silent promise that he would stand by your side, even in ugly times.
─── ·✧· ───
The weight of the day still hung heavily in the air.
Gojo's hand rested gently on the small of your back as the two of you made your way down the long, sterile hospital corridors toward the exit. In his other hand, he carried your belongings.
The hallway was filled with hushed tones of hospital staff and the distant hum of medical equipment—a stark contrast to the chaotic events that had unfolded in the operating room earlier. You desperately need a break from the hospital environment for a while.
As you turned a corner, you noticed a faint wisp of smoke wafting from a nearby balcony. 
"Wait," you said, halting Gojo with a gentle tug on his arm.
On the balcony stood Geto, leaning against the railing with a lit cigarette in hand. He appeared lost in thought, his gaze distant and fixed on some distant point.
"I'll wait for you," Gojo offered before you could even ask him.
Stepping outside, a gentle breeze brushed against your cheek. Geto turned as he noticed your presence. He looked tired and somber, but you couldn't help but feel that you looked even more fucked up.
"Did you cry?" he asked gently.
You didn't need to confirm it, did you? He could clearly see it.
You moved to stand beside him, the wisps of smoke from his cigarette curling around you as he took a drag and exhaled a cloud of gray. Your eyes flickered to his hands, noting the faint tremor in his fingers, before dropping to the floor where at least fifteen cigarette butts lay scattered.
"How much did you smoke?" you asked.
He turned his gaze to you, sidestepping your question. "You want one?"
"They're no good for you."
A weary chuckle escaped him. "Everyone has their vices, right?"
You watched him quietly as he took another long drag from his cigarette, the glowing ember briefly illuminating his face before he stubbed it out against the railing.
"I wanted it to work so badly," you admitted.
"I know. Me too. But that's our job, isn't it? Sometimes we lose, and sometimes we win," Geto said, leaning back against the railing. "Just do me a favor and don't dwell too much on the surgery. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, things in the OR don't go the way you want."
"How do you cope with that?" 
He flicked the last bit of his cigarette over the railing, watching it fall. "Some days it's easier, some days it's harder. But you'll find your way. We all do." He reached for another cigarette, his movements methodical, almost automatic.
Yeah, he clearly found a way to deal with it.
"You good?"
"Better than ever," he replied, offering you a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
He wasn't very convincing.
He reached for a new cigarette and placed it between his lips, then brought the lighter to the tip of the cigarette. His thumb flicked the flame to life. His hands trembled slightly as he took a deep inhale. The smoke curled around him like a shroud, masking whatever emotions he was holding back.
"You know, he'll want to try his approach," Geto continued.
"Hm?"
"Satoru, will you help him?"
"I don't know," you answered.
Geto ran a hand through his hair, loosening strands that had escaped his usually neat bun. "He was here today too—watching you." He let out a huff. "He's really bad at hiding it. Doesn't even seem like he's trying."
You watched Geto in silence, unsure of what he was getting at.
"He will want you to help him," he continued as he took another drag from his cigarette.
"You don't want me to help him?"
"I want you to stay away from him," Geto's response was immediate.
"Why so?"
"He'll get you in trouble, I know that."
"Isn't he your best friend?"
"That's how I know," he said, exhaling a stream of smoke directly in your direction, the familiar acrid scent filling your nostrils.
Silence fell between you for a few moments. His gaze was suddenly so cold.
"It's late. You should head home," Geto finally said, his voice devoid of its earlier warmth. He then shifted away from you, leaning against the balcony's railing. His eyes remained fixed on the distant horizon, lost in whatever thoughts occupied his mind.
Without a word, you turned and walked back towards where Satoru was waiting. His hand immediately found its place on your back again as he guided you towards the exit.
Unbeknownst to both of you, Geto's eyes continued to follow your figures until you were out of sight. In a sudden movement, his hand twitched, crushing the remains of the cigarette he held. The crumbling embers fell from his fingers.
─── ·✧· ───
Your eyes burned again.
You sat at a large wooden table with Maki, Yuta and Toge, each of them absorbed in their exam preparations. Books and notes were spread out before them. The library was quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional turning of a page or a soft whisper. 
Maki was leafing through a thick medical textbook, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Yuta, sitting next to her, jotted down notes on his laptop, pausing occasionally to reread a section or ask Maki a question. Toge quietly muttered words from his notes.
You, however, found it hard to focus on the study material in front of you. Your mind was elsewhere, still caught up in the surgery. The question of why the surgical approach had failed haunted you, gnawing at your thoughts. You were so engrossed in your search for answers that the words in your textbook seemed to blur together, meaningless. 
From time to time, one of your friends would cast a concerned glance your way. "You okay?" Maki mouthed silently across the table.
You nodded, offering a small, unconvincing smile, and returned your gaze back to your textbook. But your eyes weren't reading the words; they were seeing surgical diagrams, replaying the operation, desperately searching for a clue, a misstep, anything that could explain the failure.
Yuta leaned over. "Hey, if you want to talk about it..." he began softly.
Talking about it was the least thing you wanted to do.
You needed answers.
Not talks.
Abruptly, you stood up. "Just need another textbook."
Wandering through the aisles of the library, you found yourself in a quiet corner. The book you needed was on a high shelf, just out of your reach. You stretched on your tiptoes, fingers grazing the spine of the book, but it remained stubbornly beyond your grasp.
Suddenly, you sensed a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, a hand reached over your shoulder, effortlessly retrieving the book.
"Funny, and I thought if someone had a pharmacology exam coming up, they would need a pharmacology book. Yet here you are, gathering the next neuroanatomy book."
You didn't need to turn to know that it was Gojo. His presence was unmistakable.
"Stalking me now, Gojo?"
For a moment, you both remained frozen, his hand still above your head. He was close, closer than you would wish he was.
"Just keeping an eye on you," he replied, reaching for the book on the shelf. As you turned to face him, you found Gojo standing close, the textbook in his hand. "This won't give you the answers you seek," he said, offering the book to you.
"But I sure will try." You took the book from him. Your fingers brushed against his briefly, sending an unexpected shiver through you that you tried to ignore.
"Don't do that."
You clutched the book to your chest. "Do what?"
"Blame yourself for the surgery. You weren't wrong in your approach. I would've done the same based on the data."
"Yet, you didn't. You wanted to take a different approach with this patient."
He tilted his head, a lock of hair falling across his forehead. "It was more intuition than data," he said, scratching the back of his neck."Sometimes, data and statistics only tell us part of the story. The human body isn't a machine. It's unpredictable."
You looked at him. "So, you're saying I should screw data?"
He shrugged lightly, the hint of a smile returning to his face. "I'm saying that being a good surgeon isn't just about knowledge. You're young. You'll learn."
Gojo stepped closer, his eyes searching yours as he gently brushed a strand of hair from your shoulder, exposing the bandaid still adhering to your neck. His thumb gently stroked along it. He parted his lips, the question in his eyes clear even before he voiced it. 
"Help me with my neuroprosthetics approach," he proposed.
You tensed, your mind racing. "I'm not sure."
"Why not?"
"I have exams."
"And here I thought I was your best study partner," he countered with a light, teasing tone.
You quickly added, "And I need to unpack at my new place." It was true, but even as you said it, it sounded like another excuse.
Gojo's response was immediate. "I can lend a hand with that."
"Geto will hate me."
"He's already upset. What difference does it make now?" 
"I also have this really important thing..." you started, but Gojo cut you off.
"Come on, you're just finding excuses here," he said with a huff.
There was a brief silence before he continued, softer now. "I need you on this."
"I don't think you do."
His gaze intensified. "Believe me, I do."
You averted your gaze, unable to hold it. "I'm afraid—afraid of making another mistake."
"You're with me. You won't. I'll make sure of that."
He moved even closer. His hand came to rest against the shelf above your head. With his other hand, he gently cradled your chin, lifting it so your eyes met his. "You don't need to fear anything when you're with me."
In that moment, with his hand so gently holding your chin and his eyes locked onto yours, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. The library, the books, the worry about exams—all of it faded into the background. There was only Gojo, his closeness, and the sincerity in his eyes that you wanted to believe.
"If anyone sees us like this, you're really fucked," you breathed out.
"Lucky for me, you have a thing for unpopular, heavy neuro textbooks hidden in the very far corner of the library," Gojo quipped, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Seems like a safe bet."
Your lips twitched into a light smile, and you rolled your eyes.
"Come on," he pressed. "Say yes."
You could tell he wasn't going to back down—Gojo had that determined look in his eyes, the one that said he wouldn't take no for an answer.
You let out a weary sigh. "Okay."
Satisfied, Gojo released your chin and leaned back. "Give me your phone," he said.
Raising an eyebrow, you hesitated for a moment before understanding his intention. You handed over your phone, watching as his fingers moved over the screen, adding his number.
"There," he said, handing the phone back to you. "Call me if you need anything."
─── ·✧· ───
It was late at night in your small apartment. 
The only sounds were the occasional hum of traffic from the streets below and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. You sat at your desk, surrounded by textbooks and notes, trying to focus on studying. But no matter how hard you tried, the words just wouldn't sink in. Your mind kept drifting.
With a sigh of frustration, you closed the textbook and got up. You paced around the room for a moment before finally throwing yourself onto the bed. Lying there, you stared at the ceiling.
Maybe it was the stress or maybe it was curiosity, but you reached for your phone. Your fingers hovered over the screen before you finally worked up the courage to type a message. You hit send before you could change your mind.
[1:24 AM] You: Haven't had the chance to thank you yet.
[1:24 AM] Gojo: That's quite an anonymous start. Who's this?
[1:25 AM] You: You get a lot of late-night texts from unknown numbers?
[1:25 AM] Gojo: Oh, I might have been expecting one in particular. How's the studying going?
[1:26 AM] You: Can't seem to focus tonight.
[1:26 AM] Gojo: Stop it. I can tell you that you are dwelling on things again without having to see it.
[1:27 AM] You: Hard not to.
[1:27 AM] Gojo: Need a distraction?
The message pops up, almost too quickly. Yeah, you needed a distraction, but more from him than anything else. You pause before answering.
[1:30 AM] You: It's late.
[1:31 AM] Gojo: Since when has that stopped you? Must have been imagining all those late nights in the lab.
Another pause as you consider his words.
[1:33 AM] Gojo: Send me your address.
[1:33 AM] You: Planning to come over?
You sent the message before you really thought about it. The payback was immediate.
[1:33 AM] Gojo: Oh, sweetheart, quite bold of you to ask your own professor to come over at this hour, don't you think? What would people say?
[1:34 AM] Gojo: I'll pick you up with my car and we can get coffee, my treat. We can talk or not talk. Whatever you need.
[1:36 AM] You: Just a drive, nothing more?
[1:36 AM] Gojo: Just a drive, nothing more.
[1:37 AM] You: Okay.
You send your address.
─── ·✧· ───
Lost in thought, you scrolled through social media. Then your phone buzzed with a call from Gojo. You answered, still slightly surprised each time you saw his name light up your screen.
"Look down," Gojo's voice came through.
You walked over to the window and peered down. There, on the street below, stood Gojo. He leaned nonchalantly against a sleek black car, its polished surface reflecting the dim streetlights. He was looking up, a confident, almost playful smile on his face as he spotted you at the window. For a moment, you just watched him from above.
God, what are you doing?
He's your professor, for fuck's sake.
You're supposed to work with him. Not whatever you're starting here.
Yet, as he smiled up at you, all good reasons seemed to leave you.
You grabbed your jacket and made your way out of the apartment. As you descended the stairs, the reality of the situation began to sink in. Gojo was here, in the middle of the night—for you. Your heart raced.
You stepped out onto the street, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the heat on your skin. Gojo pushed himself off the car and stood upright as you approached.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked.
"Wherever you want."
Gojo's smile widened. He opened the passenger door for you. "Then let's go."
You got into the car. Gojo started the engine and pulled away from the curb, the city lights beginning to blur past. There was no destination, no specific purpose, just winding through the streets under the city's neon embrace.
The dashboard's soft lighting cast a gentle glow on Gojo's features. He wore a crisp, white button-down shirt, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong, lean forearms. The shirt was just tight enough to hint at the well-defined physique underneath. 
The faintest shadow of stubble along his jawline gave him a rugged edge, contrasting with the sharp, clean lines of his attire.
"You're staring," Gojo remarked as he caught your gaze.
"Geto would kill us if he knew," you replied.
"Worried about him, huh?"
"I just—I owe him a lot, feels like I'm betraying him."
Gojo chuckled. "You say that like we've already fucked."
"That's not what I meant," you quickly clarified.
"Of course not, sweetheart," he said with a sly grin before shifting gears. "Or maybe you want us both? At the same time?"
You blinked, taken aback by his boldness. "Ha?"
"Don't tell me the thought never crossed your mind, first-year," he teased. "But just so you know, I'm not really one to share."
God, this man really has too much confidence for his own good.
"You're quite bold to say something like this to your student," you pointed out.
"And yet here you are, in your professor's car, in the middle of the night. Seems boldness is a trait we share."
Suddenly, Gojo's attention snapped to something outside the car. "There's a McDonald's up ahead," he said, a spark of spontaneity in his voice.
Before you could react, Gojo expertly turned the steering wheel, guiding the car into a sharp turn. The sudden change in direction caught you off guard, making you flinch and clutch your seatbelt.
Gojo quickly placed his hand on your thigh. His touch, firm yet tender, sent a rush of warmth through your veins as his thumb brushed soothingly over your skin. "Sorry about that," he said, his voice calm and steady. "Didn't mean to startle you."
As Gojo smoothly guided the car into the drive-through lane, his hand remained on your thigh. When it was your turn in the lane, Gojo ordered two coffees and a selection of pastries.
"You really do have a sweet tooth, don't you?" you said as you took the beverages and treats and placed them on your side.
He glanced at you with a playful smirk. "Yeah, makes me wonder why I'm so drawn to you."
You ignored his comment.
He drove off, searching for the perfect spot to park and enjoy the spontaneous snack. Finding a quiet spot, he parked the car and the two of you settled in, the rich aroma of coffee filling the interior.
The warm summer night embraced the city, its gentle caress making the decision to keep the car windows down an easy one. The balmy air flowed in, carrying with it the faint sounds and scents of Tokyo at night.
"So, when do you want to start with the new approach?" you asked between sips of coffee.
"After your exams," Gojo replied. "I want you to be able to focus without any added pressure. This project can wait until you're finished."
"Speaking of which," he continued, "what's the primary use of ACE inhibitors?"
"What?"
"What's the primary use of ACE inhibitors?" he repeated, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"They're used for hypertension and congestive heart failure," you answered after a brief pause.
"Good. How do antipsychotics like haloperidol work?"
"Too easy, Gojo. They're dopamine antagonists, so they block dopamine receptors, particularly in the brain's mesolimbic pathway."
"Now, explain the pharmacokinetics of metformin," he said, taking a bite of his pastry.
"Metformin decreases hepatic glucose production, reduces the absorption of glucose in the intestines, and enhances insulin sensitivity."
"And what about beta-blockers?"
"Beta-blockers work by blocking the effects of epinephrine and norepinephrine on beta-receptors. This results in a decrease in heart rate, cardiac output, and the release of renin from the kidneys, which lowers blood pressure."
"Perfect. Now, what's the mechanism behind the antibiotic resistance of MRSA to methicillin?"
You raised an eyebrow, considering the question for a moment. "MRSA develops antibiotic resistance due to a mutated penicillin-binding protein that methicillin can't effectively bind to. This mutation is encoded by the mecA gene."
Gojo chuckled. "I think we can dive right into the research project. You're more than prepared for this exam."
You couldn't help but smile.
After finishing the coffee and pastries, Gojo gathered the wrappers and empty cups. "I'll just get rid of these," he said, stepping out of the car.
You glanced at your fingers, noticing they were still slightly sticky from the pastries. In search of something to clean them with, you began rummaging through the car, eventually opening the glove compartment in hopes of finding some tissues.
To your surprise, the compartment was filled with an array of blisters and pill bottles. Specifically, painkillers and a few other medications whose names escaped you. You reached for one of the bottles and read what it said. Hydrocodone.
You held the bottle in your hand, a frown creasing your brow. Of course, Gojo was a doctor. But why would he carry such a stash of strong medication in his car? There must be some reasonable explanation for that, right?
Your stomach churned, uneasiness settling in.
As you were still processing the discovery, you heard Gojo returning. Panic seized you for a moment, and you hastily shut the glove compartment.
Gojo slid back into the driver's seat, his demeanor as easygoing as before. "All set," he announced, starting the engine. "Ready to head back?"
You nodded, forcing a smile. 
The drive back to your apartment was quiet, the earlier conversation replaced by a thoughtful silence. The streets of Tokyo passed by in a blur of lights and shadows. As Gojo's car finally pulled up outside your apartment building, neither of you immediately moved to get out.
The memory of the medicine in the glove compartment still lingered in your mind. Breaking the silence, you turned to Gojo. "You okay?"
Gojo's eyes flickered with a fleeting hint of surprise. "Yeah, I'm good. Why you ask?"
"You'd tell me if something was off, right?"
There was a brief pause as Gojo seemed to consider your question. Then, reaching out, his hand gently cradled the side of your face. The touch was tender, and you could feel the warmth of his palm against your skin. Without even realizing it, you found yourself leaning into his touch, your eyes locked with his.
Gojo's thumb traced a soft path along your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart raced, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from his. It was a moment that felt suspended in time, as if you were caught in a spell, completely captivated by the man before you.
You couldn't deny the growing attraction and connection between you, even if you weren't entirely sure what it meant. But at the same time, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, something he wasn't telling you.
"Of course," he finally said, though his response was quick, almost automatic.
His gaze then subtly shifted, settling on your lips. You could almost feel the weight of his craving in the intensity of his gaze. His thumb lightly brushed across your bottom lip, sending a ripple of warmth through you.
Finally, he withdrew his hand, though the lingering warmth of his touch continued to dance on your skin. "You should get some rest," he said, his voice carrying a soft, husky undertone.
You took a sharp inhale, just now coming back to your senses.
"Thanks for tonight, Gojo."
"Anytime."
You lingered for a second longer before finally opening the car door and stepping out into the cool night air. It felt stark against your skin where his touch had been. As you walked towards your apartment building, you couldn't help but glance back. Gojo was still there, watching you until you were safely inside.
You forced a last smile before heading inside.
─── ·✧· ───
<- prev chapter | next chapter ->
x a/n: this chapter was partly influenced by my upcoming pharmacology exam haha. Anyway, thanks for reading and feel free to leave your thoughts! :)
➸ taglist: @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss
513 notes · View notes
lizziesribbons · 4 months
Note
wedding wanda please!! she’d just fall in love w u all over again and then the night of ur wedding she just goes feral and calling u “my wife” “all mine” and she just gets super possessive and proud that u are now hers !!!
I Do |
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PAIRING: WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEM! READER
summary: Wanda and you get married and then then Wanda goes all soft and fuckes you in your wedding dress ahhh
warnings: ****MINORS DNI***** *****MEN DNI***** fluff so much fluff 🥺 I'm going so aahwhwhwh, smut, praise ALOT OF PRAISE AHHH, name calling (Wanda calling you my wife, my love, princess, doll) I sobbed I wanna have soft sex with Wanda so bad I just know she will be the most gentle.
author's note: just reminding you guys that my first language is not English so if there's any grammatical errors PLEASE IGNORE THEM AND MOVE TF ON. Also I have no idea how weddings work so I did what I did
Word count: 2.1k
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standing in your bridal gown, looking outside, and seeing Wanda standing there waiting for you, it was like a dream come true you've been waiting months for this day and now it was finally here. It seemed like everything around you just stopped. You could see nothing else but Wanda. In a white wedding gown, soon to be your wife. YOUR WIFE.
your dad came from behind holding your arm, breaking you from your gazing he said "Are you ready to go down the aisle sweetheart?" you took a deep breath and nodded as you both started walking.
as you walk down the aisle everyone cheers, "You are in Love" by Taylor Swift playing faintly in the background as you looked at Wanda and saw your whole world right there and then. It was like you were born to live this day and day alone. Everything seemed perfect everything made sense now.
Wanda looked at you and smiled. She smiled so hard that her cheeks started hurting. Tears in her eyes she saw you as you stood there in front of her, she wanted to kiss you so badly.
Clint was the one leading the wedding because Wanda insisted as he was the closest father figure to her and she loved him so dearly. "Wanda and y/n my two beautiful friends and my family members. I have known y/n ever since she was a little girl, she was always so compassionate and funny" he pauses and light laugh "So funny actually. She was always goofing around and her jokes oh my God I cannot forget them she was always joking about something or someone she would make me laugh in the darkest of times" he paused again looked at you and smiled. "let me tell you, guys, something, one time when y/n was wearing a pillow on her head as a wedding veil came up to me, she was only five at time. and asked me "Uncle Clint!!!! do I look good???" and gave me a twirl and haha I said "ofc you do sweetheart, who's your groom?" and she looked at me and rolled her eyes "Silly I don't have a groom I'm marrying my doll cause I love her the most" and then she forced me by giving me those pretty pleading eyes that still work to this day to come to her wedding and I went and now here I am standing in between y/n and Wanda at their actual wedding" with now tears in his eyes he looked at Wanda
"Wanda.. Oh, I've known Wanda for more than 10 years now I saw her grow up into this powerful beautiful woman she is now, I remember when she came up to me asking me if she should ask y/n out I told her whatever was in her heart she should just put it out, I saw there relationship grow stronger and stronger each day. They are the most for each other as one could be, I remember when Wanda asked me how she should propose to y/n I told her the same thing again that she should do whatever is in her heart, Wanda my pretty Wanda I love you and I'm so proud of you for the women you have become, my heart breaks into millions when I think about how both of you are not so little anymore but it screams in joy when I see you two together so in love with each other." that was it he stopped talking, he was softly sobbing now so are many of our friends and family members.
He speaks again after some silence clearing his throat, "We are gathered here today to witness the sacred union of Wanda Maximoff and Y/n Y/l/n We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared between these two people, as they come together to start their new life with a solemn vow, surrounded by their closest family and friends"
He turned to Wanda and said "Repeat after me.
I, Wanda take you, Y/n, to be my wife. I promise that from this day forward I will regard you not only as my equal, but as my closest friend. I promise to comfort you in sickness and in health. I promise to demonstrate my commitment to you through love, laughter, and compassion. I love you." and as Wanda did he looked at you next and said "Repeat after me.
I, Y/n take you, Wanda, to be my wife. I promise that from this day forward I will regard you not only as my equal, but as my closest friend. I promise to comfort you in sickness and in health. I promise to demonstrate my commitment to you through love, laughter, and compassion. I love you." "It's time for the vows," he says softly
You begin first "Wanda, darling, for so long, I wondered if I would ever find my love, my soulmate. Then four years ago, at another wedding, I turned to a friend for comfort, and instead, I found everything that I’d ever been looking for my whole life. And now, here we are, with our future before us, and I only want to spend it with you – my love, my soulmate, my friend… Unless you don’t want to.”
Wanda started tearing up but holding her composure she began, "Y/n, I thought this was going to be the most difficult thing I ever had to do. But when I saw you walking down that aisle, I realized how simple it was. I love you. Any surprises that come our way, it’s ok, because I will always love you. You were the person I was meant to spend the rest of my life with."
(An: these vows are definitely not stolen from friends)
"just to be sure" he laughs "Do each of you take the other to be your lawful wedded spouse?”
Wanda and you say together with eagerness "I do".
After exchanging the rings he speaks again,
"By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may now kiss" and took a step back as Wanda eagerly came forward and kissed me softly and whispered "oh I've been waiting all day for this" making you laugh and tear up.
"Ladies and Gentleman, for those of you who have come to witness this union, it is my pleasure to present the newly united couple, Y/N and WANDA Maximoff."
there's that. you and Wanda were married. Actually married. the rest of the evening went great everyone danced laughed cried.
____________________________________________________________
(wedding night)
Your flight was tomorrow in evening so you and Wanda had the whole night to yourself, as you sat there on the bed taking off your jewelry Wanda came from the back rubbing your shoulders you instantly relaxed in her touch
She bent down so she could whisper in your ear softly "I want to fuck you in this dress" You could hear the smirk on her face, and as you hesitantly looked at her she immediately knew what you meant "I promise I'll be gentle no damage would be done to that dress" Wanda knew how much you loved that dress so she wouldn't dare ruining it
"I bought this just for tonight," she says holding a Scarlett strap out in her hand, it was just perfect not too big or too small
"lay down" she whispers in your ear and you did, she folds your dress to your waist and takes off your underwear Wanda was only in her undergarments she took them off and fastened the harness around her as she stood between your legs she caressed your legs and align the strap to your opening slowly entering you while maintaining eye contact as she watched your face confronted in pleasure, only light moans coming out of your mouth
you underestimated the size, it wasn't too thick but it was long. When Wanda was fully in she gave you a moment to get used to the strap
Her fingers entwined with yours, your foreheads touching lightly she thrusts inside you, slowly but hard, every thrusting was pulling a moan out of you as Wanda gasped in your ear throwing praises here and there
"you're doing so good princess"
"my pretty wife"
"oh baby you look so pretty like that"
she didn't stop the praises her thrusts only speeding up, not too fast just perfect sending you into ecstasy, her strap hit your g spot in every thrust "Wanda I'm cumming!!" without warning you came all over her strap.
"Can you give me one more doll? please?" looking at her pleading eyes you weakly nodded as Wanda gently fucks you through your orgasm, kissing your neck so softly she said "My wife only mine" She gasps her orgasm reaching her soon "All mine! cum with me baby," she says as she let out a moan collapsing over you, making sure not to put all her weight on you, you came soon after.
As you both came down from your high Wanda tried to get up but your arms stopped her "Noo please don't go" she cupped your face and said "I'll just be a minute princess" She got and undid the harness and threw it down, took your dress off softly and cleaned you up and herself
"here take some water baby" She gave you and glass of water and you drank as she took the wedding dress to the closet, peaking her head out from the closet she asked, "do you wanna sleep with clothes on or off doll?" "off please" you replied softly yawning
Wanda nodded and got out of the closet, as you made someplace in the bed for her she got under the cover immediately holding you, you lay your head on her chest clutching her like a koala
Wanda started caressing your back "Goodnight my beautiful wife", you smiled and muttered something out hoping Wanda would understand.
And she did. She always does.
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mitsies · 6 months
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❊ miss americana & the heartbreak prince - itoshi sae . . from one formal to the next, everything works out one way or another
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your first junior high dance is in the company of your best friend, itoshi sae.
you had to try hard to convince him to go. really, really try to convince him. and you had to get his mom in on it, too, that's how hard you had to try. he was content to stay at home in those stupid little red basketball shorts that he either 1), never washed or 2), had 7 pairs of, binging sports highlights and discussing things you don't care all that much about on the couch.
but this night was special, you'd insisted. it was the very first dance of the very first year as official junior high students. you were both 11, practically ancient, and how boring would it be to stay home when there were adventures to be had? and besides, you had a plan. tonight, you were going to tell your best friend since diapers that you had a super-uber-mega crush on him, and maybe give him a hug after (if you were feeling bold.)
you have it all planned out. after finally managing to convince him to come to the dance with you, you'll steal him away from your friend group and take him to the hallway next to your maths class, where no one ever goes. and then, you'd tell him about how mieko told you that mai told her that akane told her that keiko told her that she thinks he likes you back, and then you'd ask if it was true. and then he'd say, 'oh my gosh, yes, i love you,' and then high-five you, and then you'd be boyfriend and girlfriend. because that's how it works, right?
well, you made it halfway-ish. and to say that is just to say you managed to force him to the dance and sneak him off into the side hallway. oh, he looks cute. he's shorter than you but that's fine because he'll get taller before you guys get married. and his hair is gel-slicked and looks kind of silly, and you know it's his mom's doing. his suit is frumpy and ill-fitting and he's wearing cleats instead of dress shoes because that's just how junior high boys are.
he's been grumpy all day, as per usual. but you keep catching him staring at you. and he keeps doing that little tiny smile-ish thing that he does, where he smiles a little but not a lot so he just looks constipated instead. and oh, you're in bad luck, because as soon as you're in that maths hallway and the music from the dance goes muffled and it's just him, and it's just you, you seem to forget everything you've planned to say.
"what did you want to tell me?" uh-oh. uh-oh, this is bad. oh, it's so bad. your best friend since diapers, your future husband, the one person you could never get sick of, was going to think you were an absolute idiot. how embarrassing! how embarrassing, oh no.
"uh," you can't meet his eyes, and choose to fiddle with your fingers instead, pulling at your sloppily painted nails (green to match his eyes, like asami had insisted), "well— um, i actually— i just— to.. um."
wow, this was lame. you're 11 now, where is your class? where is your wisdom? oh, how humiliating. "i just—"
"you like me."
you pause. you stare. he stares back, and his expression goes from that same old neutral to that silly little stupid kinda-smile. and then, panic sets in.
"oh, haha! i do? who told you that? who? no seriously, who? or, or, what made you think that? why do you think that? i— i don't like— or, well, i don't not— no, stop, stop, actually. who told you? was it akane? oh, i knew akane was a snitch! ignore her. ignore this. i mean, unless you— but. hey, it's—"
"so you do, or don't?"
this was sae. this was itoshi sae, and this was how he's always been. no-nonsense, straight-froward, abrasive, blunt. all hard around the edges but so, so soft at the center like those really good cookies they sell at the cafeteria. only for you, usually, and his baby brother, and that was pretty much is.
sometimes you forget just how much you like him. it's a lot, you like him a lot. so, so much. he's the same boy who meets you on the side of the curb when you call him crying from the home phone, because your parents are angry again. he's the boy who will spend forever with you working on your maths homework when you're having a hard time understanding. he's the boy who will split a cafe cookie with you after he sees you in the stands of one of his games. oh, he's that boy. he's the boy you super-mega-ultra liked, and maybe-kinda-sorta loved a little teensy tiny bit. you exhale.
"i do."
your voice is small. your hands twist together anxiously and you can't do anything but stare at the floor. and in your peripheral vision, you see little red cleats take a hesitant step closer, and closer, and then— a hand lands on top of yours.
oh, it's sae's. oh, he's holding your hand.
well, not really. but it's close enough, and you look up and his cheeks are rosy and he looks like an angel, oh lord, he's so cute you might be sick. all he says is, "good. me too, or something."
the very first middle school dance of the year is where itoshi sae stops being just your best friend, and becomes your boyfriend. and that word changes meaning over time— years go by. somewhere in that mess, there's a tentative kiss, and a whole lot of 'i love you's' and a dozen more firsts, all with each other, all with a world of love. awkward pre-teens go to teenagers. how lucky you are, that mieko told you that mai told her that akane told her that keiko told her that she thinks he likes you back. because she was right after all.
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it's your boyfriend who asks you to prom. and you’re mad at him, but you say yes anyways.
it’s the first time you’ve seen him in weeks. prom night is the same night he flies back in from spain for the holidays, and coincidentally, the first time he’s talked to you for more than 20 minutes. you pick him up from the airport in your dress, and he’s in his suit. you’ve already missed your dinner reservations— you’re trying not to care. but this was your senior year. and you were so, so excited. the restaurant was his favourite kind of food, and it was in an aquarium, and reservations were hard to get, and he had caused you to miss them because his flight was delayed.
you know it's selfish. you know, because how could you not know? how was it his fault that the weather in spain was so poor that he was forced to wait at the airport longer than expected? how was it his fault that it just so happened to rain? but the evil, burning, and bitter side of your heart replies: it's his fault he was gone in the first place. it's his fault he was in spain and not by your side, to begin with.
normal 18-year-old couples don't have to take a 16-hour flight just to see each other, your anger says. and you know it's right.
when itoshi sae, at 13, told you he was going to be a star, you hardly believed him. actually, you recall your own incredulous laugh, and that cute way the space at the corner of his eyes wrinkle when he's annoyed. you didn't believe him, but then less than a year later he was gone to spain hellbent on becoming the best.
he used to call you every night for hours. as often as he could, he'd call or text. and he'd talk to you in the way that he only talked to you. with a softness. with a tender kind of love. the infinite kind. and whenever he got the chance to fly back, he would, to spend time with you and rin and his parents, but mostly you (as he'd tell you after he made you swear not to snitch). he used to love you, and act like it.
but as years blurred past, and he got taller (not by much) and you both grew older (not by a lot), things shifted. changed. spun in a circle and landed facing the opposite direction. he called you less. sometimes, when you called him, he'd not pick up even though you knew he was free. and he visited less, and he stopped talking to rin but wouldn't say why. sometimes when you'd visit his mother, you'd see rin stealing glances at you from the curves and corners of the house. he stopped saying hi to you a while ago, too.
you drive to your senior prom in near silence. there's some music playing on the radio— nothing either of you had put on, just the default top hits of 2017— and no one says anything and you think that might be better. because you're thinking about the way he used to buy him and his little brother ice cream on really hot days with his very own pocket money, and you think if you hear his voice you might start ugly crying and ruin your makeup. and then you think about how it's your senior prom, and you're about to cry, and your boyfriend can't even look at you, and oh, you're holding back tears all over again.
the first thing he says to you that night is, "i was about to do that," when you open the car door by yourself. you are so, so angry. but you just smile like you're not, because it's not his fault you resent his leaving. it's not his fault you miss his mom and brother but can't visit anymore without it being awkward. it's not his fault he's gone, and it's not his fault he acts like he hates you. it's not his fault but you despise him so, so much.
he puts a hand on your waist as he walks you towards the venue— some stupid country club kind of thing, you didn't care enough to read anything but the address. his touch feels wrong— it didn't always. but these hands are rough, and you don't recognise them. you stop walking.
all around you, everyone keeps moving. there are girls in frills and pretty, glittery, long dresses. suits and ties, and the smell of cologne, and the floral perfume. it's dark out, now. and the people aren't walking into the building— they're leaving. you catch someone's watch out of the corner of your eye. you've missed your senior prom.
"what's wrong?" sae's voice hardly registers. you feel the tears fall.
"we missed it."
"hm?"
you turn to him. he looks like he couldn't care less. and you abhor him.
"we missed the dance."
sae blinks. his eyes are blank— maybe they've always been. maybe when you were 11, you were too dumb to see. maybe he's always hated you, you think, because he replies, "oh. back to the car?"
and you're really crying now, because he doesn't even care.
you can't manage words, not until he speaks for you. "don't cry. it was just some stupid school dance."
you wonder what this looks like to people. a boy, looking like he couldn't care less. and you, makeup streaked with tears, like your world just collapsed.
"did you really care that much?"
"did i care?" your voice comes out mangled, "did i care?"
he looks startled at your reaction, the most emotion he's shown tonight. you continue:
"of course i cared that much. of course i did. because how long ago was our last date? the last time we did anything together? the last time you could look me in the eyes? of course i care. not about this stupid dance," you're out of breath, but you continue, "i care about you. you, i care about you."
he looks the same amount of placid, and the same amount of blank. and you'd cry harder if it didn't hurt so bad. he says nothing so all there's left to ask is, "but do you even care about me? do you care anymore?"
his face betrays nothing. and you're taken back to juvenile days, and ice cream and sun, and soccer practice after school, and annoying little brothers and love notes in lockers. and you think that this is not the same boy you loved. and you don't know where that boy went, but he's not here, he's not the one standing in front of you staring instead of holding you while you cry.
and he doesn't look the least bit sorry.
you knew the answer to his question before it even came out of your mouth. maybe you've known for years. maybe you just had blind faith in him, and your aquarium-restaurant reservations, and a stupid, cheesy, lame high school dance that you couldn't care less about to prove that there was still a tiny bit of hope. but it'd just shown you that there was nothing left.
you feel like a set of bones beneath a dress. you feel like a ghost in a crowd of people. you feel like a spectacle, you feel insane. you must look it, too. maybe you are. there is a coldness to sae's voice when he finally speaks. a coldness that is new. that you haven't heard before. you're scared.
"are you done yet?"
you're not crying anymore. you're just feeling strange.
you hate how you care about how sae's going to get home when you leave him standing there and walk back to your car. your shoes— bought just for today— tap on the pavement. the shoes and your heartbeat. your car's engine. the doors slamming shut. people laughing outside. the radio's top hits of 2017. that's all you hear, that's all. and when you get home and turn your car off, you sit in the driver's seat and cry.
you can hear all your thoughts. you can hear the ugly desperate cries clawing your throat raw like an animal. mascara-stained teardrops land on your dress and trickle down your chin, and burn your eyes. you don't know when you lost him. was it when he'd first went to spain? was it when he'd first cancelled a visit back, or hung up the phone? or was it before then? has he ever liked you, or did he only hold your hand back at that middle school dance because he felt like he had to? and your tears taste like melted ice cream and memories, or maybe you're just crazy.
you loved him. did he ever love you?
angry tears. sad ones, too. your hands need to destroy something so they pull and clench and squeeze your legs through the fabric of your dress as you dry-heave. the ache is not empty. it hurts, it burns. your lungs burn. your heart is heavy and hot and disgusting. how you feel is wrong. everything feels wrong.
everything feels wrong, and now you're single on prom night.
what's even left for you, now?
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being 21 is weird.
you're all grown up, now. you've got friends, and you have just recently landed a job at a big journalism company while you wrap up university. and today's your first day going out to a company event instead of sitting at a desk all day, and you're so excited.
the event is some kind of gala. you've been told it's to celebrate the opening of a new sports thing that your employers have invested in that you don't really know too much about. and it's not quite your specialty but you'd never miss out on an opportunity to dress up and get a free fancy dinner as a representative for your company, who were big investors. you wonder who'll be there. who are some sports people? actually, what kind of a stadium was this? a baseball field? is that even a stadium?
why were you even invited? you don't have the slightest clue about this investment. but that doesn't matter, because you're there now, stepping out of your company car in a pretty dress that you'd chosen for yourself. you wonder when the last time you've been this dressed up was. maybe your cousin's wedding, when you were 17? or, you think with a twinge of something bitter in your chest, was it your senior prom at 18?
whatever. it doesn't matter. you don't care about that anymore— it was only the night your boyfriend of 7 years essentially told you he didn't love you anymore. no big deal. you were 21 now, and you could do cool things and work, and stuff. how cool is that? how cool are you? too cool to be still caring about your ex-boyfriend. your very handsome, attractive, professional football player ex-boyfriend, who was on the cover of every sports magazine, and the headline of every news channel. you wonder, as you walk in, how many of the people under the roof of the venue know his name. how many who'd probably kill for a signature. you wonder what they'd think if they knew you used to be the one to love him.
pause. why were you thinking about this? you don't care, you definitely don't. you're done caring when he's probably already forgotten your name. god, you're supposed to be 21. you're 21, and you still feel like you're 18. you're 21, and you still feel like you're 11. at what point are you meant to grow up and get over it all?
you shake your head and your older colleague ms. sato gives you an amused look. "something wrong, dear?"
"nothing," you smile at her awkwardly, "just a little nervous. i've never been out on a company event before. who else is going to be here?"
ms. sato tsks and thrums her fingers against the wrinkled skin of her other hand. she's wearing a conservative green velvet dress. you think she looks pretty. "i think more sponsors will be there. and i'm sure they've got some sports folk, too."
you purse your lips. the venue is big, and ornate, you see as you open the door for ms. sato and walk in behind her. red and gold walls, chandeliers, a regal display of wealth that you most definitely could not live up to if you were here on your own dime. and the dining hall is no different. tables with nameplates written in some fancy scrawl that you can barely read spell out your name and ms. sato's name across from each other towards the front of the hall. out of curiosity, your eyes flicker to the seat to your right.
and your heart stops in its chest.
in that same hardly legible font, reads a name that is all too familiar. it's nearly the same as the name you'd scrawled on love letters in junior high, and nearly the same name as the contact you used to text every single day and every night. it's nearly the same name you'd call out at airports, looking, always looking, forever longing to be around him. the name on the nameplate reads 'itoshi rin.'
"are you sure nothing's wrong? you look pale." ms. sato's voice cuts through your thoughts, you clear your throat. "of course. it's nothing, ms. sato."
you pull her chair out for her before taking a seat in your own, as the room starts filling in and someone says something about a prepared meal being served at 8 on the dot, and announcements starting soon after that. you feel frozen in your seat as you fidget with your hands in your lap. you're paralysed with fear, too scared to check if the name next to rin's is sae's. it couldn't be, right? because they fell out. just like you and sae fell out. they wouldn't attend the same event. plus, sae's always thought that events were boring. fancy dances, fancy dinners, they were all the same— all wastes of time. he wouldn't be here.
it hits 8. you think you could maybe handle rin— but he doesn't show. dinner is served, and the two seats to your right remain empty. and you are so, so relieved internally because who are you kidding, you couldn't deal with rin, let alone sae.
you see his face everywhere, and that's enough. magazines, underwear ads, video edits, all of it. his fans are everywhere. like he's some kind of hero, and you guess he is when it comes to football. you wonder who he's kissed since you. unless what was a weird thing to think about your exes. in that case, you don't wonder that at all. and you never have, not for a second.
it's 8:05. still, no one has shown. at 8:10, the owners of the stadium give some speech about investments, and blah blah blah, are you meant to know or care about any of this? because you don't know, and you don't really care. you're much too focused on the food, and the stress, and all that. 8:20, speech is over. 8:30, people start socialising. 8:35, drinks are brought out with a second course. 8:40, with a little champagne in your system, you're feeling pretty good, actually. less nervous, for sure. if rin hasn't shown yet, he isn't going to. and sae? that was basically fully off the table now.
8:45. you feel better than fine, now. 4 champagne flutes down (because ms. sato doesn't drink, but felt bad saying no when they were offered, and she thinks you'd be a funny drunk) and you wonder why you've ever felt nervous in your life, ever. stress was a thing of the past. ms. sato laughs at you when you make a face at something someone annoying and snotty says, and she slaps your back and tells you she's going to the restroom and to make sure you don't die while she's gone.
8:50. the door to the banquet hall must've opened at some point, but you didn't notice until the chair to your right slides out. your heart sinks before you even see him. because itoshi rin, in the flesh, takes the chair next to you.
you haven't seen him in years. not since your 18th birthday, you think— because his mother had made you a cake and forced him to tag along to drop it off for you. he'd told you happy birthday, and you'd teased him about how you remember he used to have big cheesy smiles and bigger cheesier dimples when he was just a little baby, and he'd scowled and told you that he's 15, not some kid. how old was he now? if sae was 21, then rin would be 18. you've seen him places too, on advertisements for some football program, on sellouts for cologne and such. he's made a name for himself. for himself, not his brother and himself. you'd find it in yourself to be proud if you weren't a little drunk and a lot sad.
maybe he catches you staring from the corner of your eye after he sits, because he glances over and does a double take before looking straight ahead like he's in the army and his commanding sergeant's just told him to look alive. you worry at your lip with your teeth. you'll regret this in the morning. "rin? 's that you?"
he stiffens. you try not to giggle, and you think you fail. "yeah."
"i hope this isn't weird. do you remember me?" it's more of a question to yourself than anything. but he answers, because it was said out loud so he probably thought you were talking to him and not to your own brain. hm. maybe you're drunker than you thought.
"yeah." his response is terse and awkward. but then he says your name. and you remember his little voice a hundred times higher, and you remember tears in his big toddler eyes webbing his lashes as he cried your name about a scraped knee. you soften. "i've missed seeing you. how've you been?"
he looks nervous. does he look nervous? or do you just think he looks nervous? he opens his mouth, then closes it, then replies, "good. i didn't know you'd be here."
you smile amicably. oh, you love this boy, love him like he's your sweet little brother even now. "i'm representing my company. they— or, we— are investors. i'm here as my mentor's rubbish bin for food and drinks she doesn't want, basically."
rin snorts. you want to pinch his cheeks. would he be mad if you did? probably. "well, i—"
the seat next to rin's slides out. another full champagne flute is placed in front of you and instead of thanking the waiter, you feel sick to your stomach. junior high dance sick. senior year prom sick. you're sick.
itoshi sae sits one seat away from you.
you're sick, to your stomach. you're silent and stiff and stupid, so stupid, because you thought you were over him. but this is the first time you've seen him in person since the year 2017, when he flew out to be your date to your school's prom, and then flew away that same night and never came back. you down the champagne and close your eyes. you're 21, not 18, not 11, you're 21.
you're 21 and itoshi sae's still got you acting like a fool.
the rest of the dinner is awkward and silent, at least for you. ms. sato shows up and strikes up a conversation with anyone who would listen, and rin listens, and you can't look at sae so you don't know what he's doing. but you can imagine him sitting there, bored. why was he there? rin and him don't talk anymore. or do they? it's been years, after all. you guess they've made up. your stomach churns. ms. sato notices but doesn't say anything, not until after the dinner ends and you practically race out to the company car without another word to rin, just a quick, tight, smile. over his shoulder, before you leave, you see a mess of reddish-brown hair. you think you might be sick. you hope there are barf bags in the car.
"now, dear, what is wrong with you?" a patent red leather handbag slaps your lower back as you wait outside for the driver to show. ms. sato gives you a look.
you blink a few times. "did you just hit me? that hurt, i think."
"answer the question, child."
you wince. "the boy next to me was like, my, like, brother-in-law but not actually."
ms. sato raises a brow. "itoshi rin? the professional football player?"
you nod fervently. "yes. him."
"so.. you used to date itoshi sae?"
you look at her blankly. "how did you know?"
"they're famous, dear."
"oh," you wrinkle your nose, "right."
ms. sato chuckles. "well, we've got time to talk. tell me the story."
and you tell her. you tell her everything, and a little more. about ice cream, and your 18th birthday cake, and his mom, and his hands, and the way he used to love you and the way he just stopped one day. normally, you wouldn't run your mouth like this, you'd like to think. you're more refined. but the drinks you've had are working hard, and your emotions are working harder, and oh, you're a mess. at least you don't look like one tonight.
ms. sato listens patiently. or maybe she's just doing this to laugh at you about it later. but she listens either way. she smiles at some parts and frowns at others. but when you're done vomiting up all your words and all your feelings, she just sighs. "7 years is a long time."
you blink. "yeah. i guess so, yeah."
"and so is 18."
"excuse me?"
ms. sato chuckles. "you said you've known him since you were babies. it ended when you were 18. you said you loved him until you were 18."
"oh. i did. yeah."
"and 21 years is even longer."
now, you're really confused. "21?"
"21. because you've loved him since you were babies, and it never really ended."
oh. oh, okay. you don't know how you feel, not in the slightest. you're confused and you're nervous, and you shouldn't have eaten all that food because now you might actually throw up instead of just feeling like you're going to throw up.
and then someone calls your name from behind you.
the voice is familiar, and you turn without thinking, of instinct. because you'd always go to him, no matter what. and that scares you, and you're even more scared because you haven't seen eyes that blue in forever.
"sae." you try to keep your voice curt and calm. he's in a suit. it's a good one. tailored. and he still looks young, and handsome, and like your lips would fit perfectly against his, and like your hand could feel right holding his, and all that. and you're so, so scared.
ms. sato excuses herself in the background somewhere, and all this is eerily familiar. people in dresses and suits, leaving. cards driving away. your heartbeat in your ears. it's all familiar.
he takes a step closer. you take one back. he stops, stares, and says, "how've you been?"
you know him well. you know this man far, far too well. you recognise the clench of his jaw and the set of his brows. something like determination paints his face. you'd be more confused if you weren't so nauseous.
"good," you test your voice, continuing when you hear it hold steady, "i'm good. and you?"
he opens his mouth to reply. but you open your mouth again. because you can't seem to do anything but run your mouth today, it seems. "actually, i was hoping you wouldn't be here. really, really hoping. because," you laugh, "i did not want to see you today. or ever again, really."
sae's expression would be unreadable to anyone but you. but you can see it. he's hurt. and you laugh again because god, what does he have to be hurt about? you continue, "i was fine with just seeing the magazines, and ads with you half-naked, and all that. and i was fine with hating you for hating me. but now you're here and it's all different and wrong, and i'm so mad at you right now, and i was fine an hour ago before i even knew you were going to be here. i was so fine."
he blinks. "are you drunk?"
snorting laughter, you turn your head. you can't look at him. you can't tell how you're feeling anymore. "sure i am. the drinks were free."
his eye creases in a tiny smile and you'd swoon if he wasn't the same person who'd broken your heart after he'd held it in the palm of his hand.
you wonder what he's going to say. would he tell you you're being dramatic and making a scene? that one was likely. would he sue you?maybe. maybe he'd kick you. maybe you'd throw up on him. maybe he'd cry. you smile a little— you'd like that, actually. would be funny. you'd enjoy it.
"i'm sorry."
you must be making a face. you must look confused, or disgusted, or disgruntled, because he explains, "for vanishing."
itoshi sae apologising was not on your list of possible responses. you are at a loss for words. but you find them after a beat of silence, "you're sorry?"
he shifts uncomfortably. "i am."
scoffing, you roll your eyes. "funny."
"i'm serious." sae steps forward again. you don't back away. you can't, and he continues:
"i left you. and that was," he pauses and breathes, "the worst thing i've ever done. every day since then, i've missed you."
sae really hasn't changed, because that's all he says. so blunt, so forward, so harsh. never any room for detail, or explanation. never any time. you're silent so you think he might take that as a cue to keep going.
"i fixed things with rin, too," he says, "and i wish i could say it was out of the kindness of my heart but it was because you always told me i should. you've always made me better. and i—"
"you couldn't stand that." you're so angry. at him, for coming back and apologising like it was all a small deal. you're angry at ms. sato for getting you drunk. you're mad at yourself, for loving him so much even though it's a weak excuse of an apology. "oh, you couldn't stand that i was making you kinder, or better. you never wanted to be good. you've been horrible, always, probably."
and then you stop. "no. no, no, i'm sorry. i don't— i don't think that—"
"it's okay. however you feel about me.. it's okay. you can hate me. it's okay."
and your resolve crumbles.
"i could never hate you," you whisper, "because i love you so much. always have, for so many years and however many days, and i've loved you when you were good or bad or both, or neither, and i'm so mad at you because i never stopped, even when you hurt me. even then."
sae is silent. you are too. people move all around you. they're not listening, they have places to be. because you're 21, and they're all older too. and they have things to do.
"you still love me?"
he sounds quiet, almost. meek, maybe, if that was a thing that he was capable of being. you are doing your best to hold in tears.
"yeah," you say, "yeah, i do."
sae looks at you. "i've never stopped. i never could. i tried. but i never stopped loving you. and i've never been good at showing it, but it's the truth. and i'll be sorry forever, if you'll let me."
this is so unlike him. but people change, and you suppose you've been too separated to know anything as of late. your heart aches. his eyes are still the same. his voice is a little deeper. his shoulders look more broad. you think you're in love again. you think you never stopped being in love. you know it.
"so show me."
and sae kisses you. you hadn't forgotten how good a kisser he is but you think he's gotten better, as his hands find your back and yours take his jaw. maybe he's kissed other people since you. now you're mad again so you kiss him harder, and deeper, and you would usually have more decorum but it's sae and he's famous so if he doesn't care, why should you?
there is so much left unsaid. a hundred things. a million, maybe, a billion. he will spend his life making this up to you. you know he will. but for now, there's no hurt. for now, there is just love that has been cut off for far too long. for the first time in years, you're alive at this moment. you're 11, and 18, and 21, and you're everything that he's loved, and you're everything he's touched, and you are everything to him and you feel it. you deserve this. your blood runs hot, his tongue is in your mouth, you need this. and you love him. you love him to death.
this kiss is the summary of years waiting, and years longing. it's the summative point of ice cream and bike rides, and late night car rides and study dates, and running mascara and lonely nights. this kiss— it's been a long time coming.
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flowers chosen: pink camellia & lilac . . longing & joy of youth
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