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#i cannot believe this game made me care about him again actually shocked....
chipchopclipclop · 3 months
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a friend bought me y8 so i sped through gaiden really fast beforehand and it was....... PREDDY GOOD........!
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justhere4thevibez · 9 months
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63
nonny, I'm SO SORRY this took so long, but I made it a bit extra long to make up for it 💛 enjoy!
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“Somebody’s in love!”
Eddie jerked his head up, panicked that Henderson had finally caught him staring one too many times at Chrissy Cunningham. At her crinkly nose and her short little skirt and her delicate hands and… you get the idea.
Fortunately, Henderson was not talking to Eddie, but to Steve Harrington, who’d been fluffing his ever-obnoxious hair in the reflection of one of the video games at the arcade.
“Hey, twerp, when your hair looks as good as mine, you’ll spend time in front of a mirror, too,” Harrington said, bopping the brim of Henderson’s hat affectionately.
“Excuse you,” Henderson said indignantly. “My hair looks amazing, thank you very much.”
Thank fuck. He’d gotten away with it again. Automatically, his eyes drifted back over to Chrissy, where she was giggling with Max and Will…
Fuck. She was looking at him now.
He dropped his gaze, spinning the opposite way to find a game, any game, to distract him from being a fucking idiot and staring at the most stupidly pretty girl in Hawkins.
“Hey, Eddie.”
He looked up from his game—apparently his subconscious had directed him straight to Pacman, what the fuck—to find Chrissy looking up at him with wide, baby blue eyes. She had to be some kind of fucking enchantress with eyes like that, blue enough to pull him in with her siren song and leave him to drown.
What a way to die.
“Hi,” he said eloquently, clearing his throat and trying over again. “Um, having fun?”
“Yeah,” she said, a genuine smile blooming out over her face. “It’s nice to hang out with people who don’t… care. About, like, social status or being cool.”
Eddie clutched his heart in mock hurt. “Are you saying I’m not cool, Cunningham?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean—” she stopped, a shocked smile crossing her face. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
“Me?” Eddie bent down until he was eye to eye with her, keeping his expression grave. “I’ll have you know I am a serious man. Not a nonsensical or shenanigan-rous bone in my body. Some might even call me…” he paused for dramatic effect before slumping back against Pacman, pressing his hand to his forehead. “Dignified.”
She burst out into a peal of laughter, her eyes almost squinting shut with her smile. Fuck, he wanted to eat it, let that sound melt across his tongue like cotton candy.
“Do you mock me?” he asked in a shocked whisper. “I cannot believe our own benevolent queen would treat me thus.”
“I—” another giggle escaped her lips before she managed to silence it. “I would never. I actually…”
She trailed off, blushing a little.
“You what, your highness?” he asked, tilting his head with an expectant smile. “Your wish is my command.”
“I, uh, was wondering if you’d teach me,” she said in a low voice, like she was sharing a secret. “I don’t really know how to play these games.”
Eddie held out his hand with a flourish. “Step right up, my lady, and I’ll show you the ways of the man of Pac.”
“Thank you, kind sir,” she said, slipping her hand into his and letting him guide her.
Her hand was so fucking soft he was afraid the callouses on his fingers might tear her skin up. But she didn’t seem to mind his touch, lacing her fingers firmly through his. His brain stuttered to a halt momentarily, and he had to shake his head to clear his thoughts. Focus, idiot.
He pointed out the controls to her as he gave her a brief explanation of the game, and she nodded along, content to absorb his words. And if he leaned over her shoulder a few times to point out some things, well, he was just doing his civic duty as an arcade game instructor. He didn’t try to press against her or even touch her, he just liked basking in her presence. Hell, even standing near to her was closer than he ever thought he’d get.
And she didn’t seem to mind. When he leaned over her shoulder to tap on the screen, she snagged the sleeve of his jacket, twisting her tiny fingers into the leather.
“You can come a little closer,” she murmured, tugging on his sleeve. “I don’t bite.”
He took a hesitant step forward, keeping a couple inches of space between them. He didn’t want to fucking assume anything even though the hem of her skirt brushed against his bare knee where the fabric had worn straight through on his jeans. Fuck, this might just be heaven.
“What’s the matter, Munson?” she asked teasingly, giving his jacket one last insistent pull. “You scared of me?”
He almost stumbled forward, and now he could actually feel her against him, her angular shoulder pressed against his ribcage and her ass brushing up against his thigh. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, nestling it in the crook of his neck, and for a split second he forgot to breathe.
“Yeah, Cunningham,” he laughed, daring to curl his hand around hers on the joystick. Who needed heaven when you could have Chrissy Cunningham pressed against you like this? “I’m fucking terrified.”
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aajjks · 2 months
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choice!JK
despite the year-gap its been since minho has stayed at jungkook’s, his clothes still fit him. you were shocked to see his room was untouched; all his toys, games, and bedroom design were all still in place. it felt as if minho never left and he easily became accustomed to his familiar bedroom.
you made sure to help minho with his homework while mrs. min cooked something for him. of course dinner with minho was always endearing until you found out about his behavior. of course you scolded minho for misbehaving in your absence but he insisted that won’t misbehave again now that you both are together again.
turns out jungkook was right. minho made things a lot more lighter in the huge house. because of the 6-year old, mrs. min got to hear your sweet voice a lot more than usual and after 8 long days of neglecting food, you finally put something on your stomach.
mrs. min happily reported the good news to jungkook who seemed serious about feeding you through a tube to keep you from starving yourself but now that minho’s here, she and jungkook are sure you’ll take better care of yourself.
at 8:30, you put minho to bed after he took his bath but since he’s afraid of the dark you made sure to turn his nightlight on before shutting his door. “night min~” whisper as you head to your room but on this particular night, you find it hard to let sleep succumb you. to pass the time, you take a bath, do your nightly routine, and head downstairs to watch a movie or two.
by the time you finished the first movie, it was 9:15. once the second one ended it was 10 o’clock but still, you didn’t feel sleepy. because you’re prohibited from going outside, you walk around jungkook’s large mansion and take in all the expensive decorations around the house.
polished marble floors, glass chandeliers, you can’t believe he used to live in this huge house alone. not that you care! it’s just, strange. you could never live in a place this big by yourself yet here you are living in this huge house except you’re with minho and—
you hear keys jingling at the door and quickly, you sprint for your bedroom to pretend to be asleep. just as jungkook walks in the large house, you slam your bedroom door shut and throw the covers over you, pretending to be asleep.
you hear his footsteps heading upstairs but he bypasses your room. you gasp ‘he’s going in minho’s room!’ in a panic, you grab your shoe, ready to hit it over his head for hurting your younger brother.
but when you tiptoe closer to minho’s room and take a peek through the cracked door, all you see is jungkook making sure his nightlight is on. the gesture could mean so little to someone yet it means a lot to you. jungkook could be petty and turn it off to spite you, instead, he makes sure it’s on because he knows minho is scared of the dark. he did buy the nightlight, after all.
you’re so caught up with admiring jungkook’s small act that you don’t even notice him coming towards you and when he does, the first thing he sees is you with a shoe in your hand.
“sorry, i uh, ehem. i thought you were up to no good”
“Oh wow- how romantic yn.” He laughs, scoffing at you.
But can he blame you? “I’m not going to hurt him.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, carefully walking out of Minho’s bedroom to make his way into his own.
He knows that talking to you will do no good because you’re still pissed at him but he cannot help but think about trying to actually ask you about it.
Jungkook scratches the back of his head, his eyes a little red. “Hey yn… I have to go to a party tomorrow- for a drug deal.” He says, without any filter or hesitation because now you know everything so he might as well just suck it up.
Of course you’re going to say no- reject him, but he’s gotta try at least. So he intakes, before opening his mouth. “Would you like to accompany me? I mean it’s okay you can say no- you’re probably going to but..”
He’s currently fantasizing about hearing a yes from your mouth.
“Would you…?” He says with curiosity. This could be good for the both of you- but he’s not hoping for anything, “it would be fun.”
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maguro13-2 · 1 year
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Murder of Sonic The Hedgehog Explained
Ichiban : I cannot believe you pranked us to think you were murdered. We worried for a Danganronpa-like mystery novel game but then you entirely played a prank to all fans around the world! We’re you even thinking we the guys of Sega are sick and tired of April Fools jokes? All our companies do is to make simple pranks. One time they made Yakuza 7 a game that was originally an April fools joke, the joke that started the real game Yakuza 7.
Sonic : Oh yeah, I was going to tell you that the Murder of me is actually an April Fools Joke. We been planning to do an April fools joke on a mystery train and therefore there was no murder of me and I wanted to apologize for pranking the fans.
Ichiban : Oh really?
Sonic : (takes a pill to put it in his mouth, and then drinks some water to swallow) Funny thing is, I don’t do April fools pranks! I always hated April fools. That’s the reason of Sega isn’t going to make another gaming prank of a murder mystery about me anymore.
Ichiban : Are you swallowing a pill to get those migraines out of you?
Sonic : What do you expect? If there wasn't really a murder of me, I would be explained to tell that if I was really dead and went to heaven or in hell for kissing a character that isn't animal.
Ichiban : Uhh, Mr Sonic. Those aren't your meds...
Sonic : What? (Looks at a bottle of Cyanide pills) Somebody changed my pills! (Before dying) Son of a b*tch, Sega! (Collapses and dies)
Silver : Ahh, sh*t! Not again!
[scene flips]
Tails : Okay, I get it. So the Murder of Sonic the hedgehog was actually a simple April fools prank by Sega all along. and this for all the thanks for getting that April fools prank.
Mecha Sonic : None of this would happen if that Mephiles guy killed him in the first place! No wonder why any sonic villain would want to murder him and get away with that.
Barry the Protagonist : Who?
Mecha Sonic : You know, the recolored Shadow guy, who manipulated Silver into killing him, brought devastation to the release of Iblis, burned down an entire city, the guy's a freakin' maniac!
Tails : Ohhh...and what are we doing exactly?
Knuckles : We're doing a reenactment of the infamous Sonic 06 scene, where sonic is about to resurrect with the help of princess who is about to do...Uhh, what's that I'm looking for?
Tails : The kiss.
Knuckles : Oh, right! The kiss. The human on furry kiss! This is the scene where sonic is getting kisses from a human! It's a gosh dang disgrace!
Shadow : Who even writes this stuff?
[Shows Elise, who is about to revive Sonic by kissing him in the mouth]
Sonic : It worked! I'm alive! I've been kissed again by--
[record Scratch]
Sonic : Yeah, huh? (It is revealed that the person who revived him with a kiss was nothing more than Miku herself) Miku, what are you doing here? And why did you kiss me on the mouth?
Miku : I'll tell you why, some jerkbutt managed to pranked you of being murdered by allowing you to swallow some cyanide pills into thinking someone murdered you on a mystery train.
Sonic : Whaaaat??!? [gets angry, yelling] SONIC.EXE!!!
[Sonic and the gang runs up to Sonic.EXE, angry]
Sonic : You! You told us that Eggman was the culprit and I was dead! How can you tell me that the murder of me was just a prank to kill us all with Cyanide Pills!?
Eggman : What is the meaning of this April fools joke of yours?! You made us look like imbeciles!
Sonic EXE : Not to worry, guys. You'll be happy to get your own Cyanide Pills while eggman gets his pills last. [Pills last is repeated three times deeper]
[Sonic Becomes shocked with Eggman's Theme music playing as voices are heard, he suddenly imagines himself at a table with a Koco at the seat across from him]
Sonic : Yes, Mr. Koco. I would love another spot of tea for myself. [Holds up the pizza casserole] Care for some Pizza casserole? [Crazed laughter. Camera zooms in on his pupil, and the scene cuts back to real life]
Amy : Sonic? You okay there, buddy? [Sonic is dazed and then faints] [yelling] Sonic! [The imaginary scenario ends with Eggman in real life]
Eggman : [talking to Sage] And that's why the murder of Sonic is the best April Fools Story, ever.
Rouge : That was a certainly nice story that you told us, [freaks out] RIGHT AFTER SONIC.EXE HAS RULED THE ENTIRE WORLD AS THE OVERLORD!
[Camera zooms out to show the group are being crucified in the bad future, while Sonic.EXE is shown sitting on a throne wearing a crown and cape and laughs evilly]
Eggman : Well, it was worth an April fool's story to tell you about it.
Metal Sonic : Being Overlord was my thing.
Shadow : [to Eggman] April Fools...Jerk.
Sonic : Well, at least I may not be murdered with crime, but at least it was a decent prank for having Sega getting involved with the April Fool's jokes.
Miku : Agree.
Sage : If there was only a way to help us with hope, we might get out of this.
Chris Thorndyke [O.S] : Don't worry, guys! I am here!
Tails : Hooray! Chris is here and he's about to--(Chris gets killed, offscreen) Aw, they killed him.
Sonic : Happy April fool's day, everyone!
[The Words "HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S DAY" is written in blood]
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roscgcld · 3 years
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HEADCANONS + GOJO SATORU || sweet but ‘scary’ s/o
request: How would Satour react if crush/future s/o was sweet and caring person, but could turn into a deadly assassin badass when they need too?
note: i feel like you’re a returning requester because the of the typo for gojo’s name lol. I see you reappearing in my inbox so much. i’m chilled with it, it makes me happy that you enjoy my writing enough to come back c: i did change the request a little cause i couldn’t finish it after writing half of the headcanon lol - so i hope you don’t mind c:
i based this around this post!
pronouns: them/they
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everyone knows you as the ‘sweet and warm sensei’ that everyone can turn to when things start to get too much
a parental figure that will listen to their issues without judgement, or feeling the need to give them advice; just someone who they can just rant to without needing to hear anything back in reply 
on days where they are just overwhelmed with work, you’d come into the study room with bags of snacks, asking if they want to go to the rec room in their dorm for a well deserved break
you’re the same for your co-workers/fellow graduated classmates - when you were a student in the college, you are considered as the sweet and caring senpai who bakes snacks for everyone
so you cannot believe their shock when you had gotten together with gojo - to which everyone threatened gojo at least twice to take care of you; unless he wants to feel their wrath 
and i headcanon that even though gojo always claims that he is the ‘strongest sorcerer alive’ - an angry shoko never fails to send shivers of fear up his spine
but in general, after awhile they realised that somehow, you managed to tame the ‘wild and rambunctious’ gojo satoru into becoming your doting and ever loving boyfriend. who is still a huge pain in the ass, but at least he is loyal lol
you’d help to do the group laundry on your off days because you hate the idea that everyone is running out of fresh clothes, whilst teaching nanami and haibara how to use the washer and dryer (cause nanami gotta learn how to be the perfect man from someone)
on days when you’re on dinner duty, no one misses them because you cook the best and most warmest meals for them all - makes them miss home a little less
although you always have this super sweet and caring front, there was a side to you that gojo had never told anyone of; it’s nothing bad. but when he first saw it, he was definitely taken back
he witnessed it when you are sent on a mission together - there were a group of troublemaker kids who had entered an abandoned hospital that had been inhabited by a Special Grade that seemed to be trapping them inside
so you two were sent to go and retrieving the kids if they are alive, but your job is to exorcise the curse no matter the outcome 
gojo knew that you hated that answer, so he allows you to drag him about the many hallways of the school, trying to find the young kids before the curse gets to them
when you found them, your motherly side came out as you fussed over the sniffling and crying kids; using the small first aid kit you had on your person of all time to help them clean and bandage any scratches and wounds they had on their body
gojo was annoyed that you seemed so focused on the kids, but he still stood guard like you had asked him too; arms crossed and an annoyed pout resting on his face
he was about to whine to you again, asking when you’re done when he freeze at the sudden strong source of Cursed Energy that was radiating from somewhere
he had just turned to warn you when a sudden blur passed him, causing him to blink his eyes in shock as he glances over at where you were moments ago; only to be faced with equally shocked kids
“wha-” he mutters before he turned to poke his head out the classroom you had taken refuse in, just in time to see you with your weapon drawn and already stabbing the Curse without hesitation
he was stunned at the sight of his lover, his sweet and kind bunny, going absolutely ham on the Curse; exorcising it within a second
gojo just stared at you in shock, which was rare as it is; his mouth parted in awe as he watches as you dust yourself off and made your way back towards him; your kind smile painted on your features once more
“well - shall we leave then?”
gojo had gone back to the college with you after you had dropped the kids off with the cops; unsure of how to bring up at how different you were when you are serious and have your head in the game
because of this, he had never really told anyone about this side of you; since he really saw no reason to reveal it. he just learns to accept it, and that it is just another part of you that he loves as much as he loves you
fast forward a few years, now you and gojo have been together ever since the third year of high school; having raised megumi together as a couple, and had officially became one of the teachers of the school
many of the students had yet to see this ‘side’ side of yours. whilst people like nanami and ijichi had seen it first hand; and had both unanimously decided to never piss you off
however, your beloved students just saw you as the sweet sensei who made them muffins and cakes on their birthdays, who teaches them things they’d need to know to become an adult
you’re a familiar pillar that they can lean on during the darkest of times; so they never believe when Yaga-sensei or Nanami try to tell them that beneath that kindness there is something that they should watch out for
the students cannot imagine their kind and soft-spoken sensei to be this scary killing machine that is known to be one of the best sorcerers to deal with heavily infested areas
they had no reason to believe so - until Yaga-sensei had approved for them to shadow Gojo-sensei and you for your latest mission
they stood at the side with Nanami and another First Grade Sorcerer to watch as the both of you entered the abandoned office block on the outskirts of tokyo
you had noticed the students, and after giving them a warm smile and wave you and gojo made your way inside of the building as the curtain was completed; blocking the outside world from looking in
at first the students were not sure what they were actually waiting for, since they couldn’t really see any action from where they are standing - which was the entire reason for their trip 
they questioned nanami as to why they had to stand at such a distance away, but nanami just held his hand out and told them to be patient and wait for a few more moments
suddenly there was a huge bang! before what seemed to be a figure shooting out from the exploding rubble; a manic glint in your eyes as you spun your weapon in your hand so it pointed downward as you started to fall 
the students watched in horror and shock whilst you seemed to be having the time of your life, gojo just standing behind you with a soft grin as he protected your back; yet made no real move to get in your way 
they watched in horror at the sigh of you exorcising the Curses around you without hesitation, a dark and determined look shining in your eyes. a far cry from the sweet smile you always have on your face
no one knew what to say as they continue to watch as you exorcise the masses of Curses. too shocked to really process everything happening before them. even megumi was stunned, since he had never seen this ‘dark’ side of you before
whilst gojo looks like he was having a blast, even cheering you on from the sidelines, nanami was just shaking his head with a tired sigh
“so much for ‘educational purposes’,” nanami hummed tiredly as he turned to the other first grade sorcerer, who just smiles back in response. “shall we grabbed some hot chocolate for the kids? there is a cafe that we passed whilst driving over here.”
when the other person agreed the two of them started to usher the kids away, nanami waving off gojo’s whine of how he was going to be missing the best parts
“you fawn over your lover by yourself, gojo - i am going to make sure the kids don’t go into further shock then they already are.”
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© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform.
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buckysgoldenheart · 3 years
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Just Us
Henry Cavill x Reader
Summary: Henry is sick and tired of you bringing dates back to your shared apartment, and he has no problem letting you know. So basically, mega jealous Henry, which I am a pathetic sucker for.
Warnings: mentions of sex, lots of cursing. I think that’s it.
Notes: this is kind of similar to another fic I did, and I try not to do that, but I just really felt the need to write this, so I did.
Words: 2732
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Henry’s mood turned sour the second you walked through the door with your date in tow. You came in with a bright smile on your face that he returned with a scowl, but you did your best to brush it off. Your roommate acting like an overgrown child every time you brought home a guest was nothing new; you certainly weren’t surprised, and you had no intention of stooping to his level.
“Don’t mind us,” You called to Henry from over your shoulder as you shed your coat and draped it on the hook. “This is James.”
Henry only grunted in response, not looking up from fixing his dinner; peanut butter about to be spread messily on a slice of wheat bread. You rolled your eyes, took James’s coat and led him over to the couch where he smiled sweetly when you invited him to sit and offered him a drink.
Entering the kitchen, you opened the fridge door and pulled out two beers. “So?” You asked, your eyebrow raised as you searched for the bottle opener in the junk drawer. Henry dropped the knife with a clang on the countertop, then turned to you and crossed his arms.
“So, you just thought this was fine,” He asked, his voice dripping with aggravated sarcasm as he shrugged his broad shoulders and frowned. “Just whatever, no big deal?”
You chuckled at the weak argument you’d had at least three times before. You wouldn’t have given him the chance to say anything about your date at all if you knew he wasn’t going to hang on to it the entire night just to explode in the morning for bringing a stranger into his home. Your home too, you would often have to remind him. So, it was your mission to let him get the anger out early in the night. You’d be less likely to have to worry about it later and could focus your attention on the man sitting in your living room rather than Henry’s imminent frustration.
“Henry,” You sighed and took a sip of your beer. “As of right now, it’s just the continuation of an innocent date. We’re going to watch a movie.”
“As of right now?” Henry huffed deeply. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means that if it gets a little heated, I promise not to make out with him in front of you, but at this current time, you have little to worry about.”
He sucked in a long breath through his nostrils. “Ok, that’s—”
“And we won’t fuck on our couch. I’ll take him to my room so you don’t have to see anything scarring,” You teased with a wink.
“Ok, enough.”
“And we won’t be loud, I swear.”
“Enough!” He snapped. You quickly whipped your head around the corner to see if James heard, but he was still sitting there, playing with his fingernails as he patiently waited for you like the gentleman he was. When you looked back at Henry, he was practically quaking with anger. “Get that asshole out of my apartment.”
“Um, our apartment. And no thank you.” You smiled and cocked your head to the side as innocently as you could. “I’d like to be having sex tonight.”
“With him?” Henry pointed a long finger in your date’s general direction. The fury in his eyes could’ve stabbed James through the back of his head if the wall weren’t in the way.
You rolled your eyes. “Obviously.”
“For fucks sake, Y/N. Have some self-respect.”
Your playful smile instantly dropped, and if you weren’t leaning against the wall, you would’ve stumbled. Henry had said a lot of things before; Hurtful things, things that made you want to slap him, but something about this felt worse. Assuming you were devaluing yourself by wanting to have sex with a man who was sweet, and kind and generous, and million other lovely things men, other than Henry, have never been to you, was like a stab to the gut. Henry was your best friend; you were his. You supported his choices and dreams, and it seemed Henry did the same for you unless it came to this very particular subject. He hated every man you brought around, but bringing them around or getting involved with them did not make you a stupid girl who cannot take care of herself.
“Jesus Henry, stay in your lane, would you?” You said, shaking your head and rubbing at your temple with your free fingers. “I don’t need my best friend giving me shit. Why can’t I bring a guy here without you acting like a complete dick to him and me?”
He stepped closer until you had to look up to meet his glare. “You’re a very smart girl, Y/N. Figure it out,” he growled, then moved around you, but you grabbed his arm before he could escape yet again. Every time, he tried to escape. Every time, he stomped away from you like a grump as if you had some reason to be sorry or ashamed, and you weren’t having it any longer.
“We aren’t children, Henry. I’m not playing this game. If you’ve got a problem with me, say it to my fucking face.”
He stared at you for a long beat, but then shook your hand off him and made his way down the hall, slamming the door to his room once he was inside.
 -----------------------------------------------------
James was better than most at kissing you, and you’d kissed your fair share. He knew what you wanted--how you liked things--without you needing to ask, and it was like its own little miracle. There was no fumbling around. His lips were firm and his arms around you were strong. He was confident in his touch on your skin as you straddled his lap, and all of it combined had you a moaning, whimpering mess.
“I wasn’t sure we would actually get to do this,” He said between kisses as you both tried to catch your breath.
“Why?” You lightly chuckled, your fingers skimming down to the little buttons holding his shirt together and easing one open. “I’m certainly having a good time.”
“Believe me sweetheart, I am too, but Superman there looked like he wanted to kick my ass.”
Fucking Superman. That asshole had come out of his room at random, inconvenient times as you and James lightly pawed at one another throughout the movie, and you both could feel Henry’s eyes on you. After the look he gave you the first time he came into the living room, you stopped turning your heads his way when his heavy footsteps thudded against the hardwood.
You made a low humming sound that had James’s cock twitching in his pants, and you moved your head down to peck your lips against his. “Don’t bother with him,” You whispered.
He leaned into the light scratching your nails were giving the side of his scalp, and with a groan, said, “If you say so, babydoll, I won’t give it a second thought.”
“Good.” You smiled, satisfied, then kissed him again but he pulled back barely a minute later.
“It’s just…the way he looks at you.”
“He’s a protective friend.” You snickered and ground your hips down on his a little harder to get him back on track.
He groaned as his fingers dug into your waist, but it didn’t distract him. “No, it’s not only that. It’s like…” His lips pursed trying to find the words. “He looks at you in a way that friends normally do not look at one another.”
“He’s got some weird attitude tonight, ok? It’s nothing.” Grabbing his cheeks, you forced him to look directly at you when you said, “Now keep kissing me before I get too impatient.”
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At two in the morning, you figured you were safe. You figured there would be a direct and easy path to the front door of your apartment as you let James out with a smile and a goodbye kiss and promises to text one another the next day, though you weren’t sure how much either of you really meant it. And you were right, there was an uninterrupted tiptoeing to the door. It was when you turned back for your bedroom that you realized the path had a roadblock.
Henry stood in front of you, the fumes nearly visibly wafting off him, with the harshest look he had ever directed at you taking over his entire face. It was a disservice to his handsome features and made your stomach twist uneasily.
“Is this for fucking real right now?” He growled so intensely it vibrated in your ears. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”
“Jesus, Henry, you scared me.”
“You actually slept with that guy?”
“Wh—”
“Un-fucking-believable.” Laughing half-heartedly, he ran one of his hands down his face, but that was all it took for the shock to wear off and for your annoyance to set in.
“Ok, I’m done with this. What is your goddamn problem?”
The two of you didn’t fight this way. Not for long anyway, and even so, this time was significantly worse than any other. Outbursts happened for the both of you, snapping, and words you wish you could take back, but Henry was still looking at you the way he had earlier in the night; like you were a reckless child he was losing respect for by the minute, and it broke your heart.
He stared at you as if expecting you to have an answer to your own question, but when you didn’t continue, he shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, and said, “I’m going to a hotel. I can’t be here right now.”
“What? Henry, why?”
His keys were in hand, his phone and wallet tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants, when it finally registered to you that he wasn’t kidding. He was leaving so fast he didn’t care to take anything other than the necessities with him. That’s how much he wanted to get away from you, and you hated it. You never wanted to get away from him.
Light from the hall streamed through the doorway as you finally began to follow after him. You grabbed at his t-shirt when he wouldn’t respond to your repeating calling of his name, and he whipped around fast with a frown down at you. Your mouth kept opening and closing, unsure of what to say.
He sniffed once, thinned his lips, and removed your hand from his body, then as calmly as he had spoken all night, said, “I’m in fucking love with you.”
Then door was slammed behind him, jarring you and leaving you to soak the night in.
 ----------------------------------------------------------------
When he said those words to you, the six words that he would never be able to take back, the ones that irrevocably changed your friendship in the blink of an eye, everything inside of you began to tremble and vibrate and beat with such intensity you could almost feel the functions of your body. Your blood was pumping a hell of a lot faster and you heart was ready to burst.
Your brain, your skin, the nerves and veins under that skin; every bit of you was working overtime to help process what happened and keep you alert as you did so, and maybe it was all a little overkill, but he had said the one thing you never thought you’d hear.
I’m in fucking love with you.
It would repeat over and over in your head, bouncing around the walls of your skull as it tried to find a way to escape, but there was no use. You could never forget his confession, or the way he said it. There was something desperate about it, weak. There was exhaustion, as if he were tired of holding it back and had given up on even trying.
It was too much. You’d never dismiss it, and God, when he got his ass back home you wouldn’t let him brush it aside, but for now, it was too much.
You wanted sleep after sitting completely still for two hours, staring into space. So you carried your body to the closest room, his room, crawled into his bed, and tangled yourself within the sheets until you wouldn’t be able to unwrap yourself without effort you did not possess at such an ungodly hour. You were stuck, trapped, engulfed by him, just like you wanted to be. Then you took his king-sized pillow, massive like his body, and hugged it to your chest, tucking your face in it. It smelled like him, all musky and piney and perfect in a way that always made you dizzy when he would sit a little too close and drape a long arm around your shoulders as you watched tv or read a book.
And you cried yourself to sleep, wishing he was beside you.
 --------------------------------------------------------------
Henry came back in the morning, though he wasn’t sure how he gathered the courage. Maybe it was the fact that it was you. Just you, his best friend, his roommate. He loved you in more ways than one, and perhaps it was that knowledge that made him a little stronger.
He’d face you, and he’d do it with the intention of making everything clear. He was in love with you and it wasn’t going to change. He loved you as his friend; that wasn’t going to change either, and no way in hell was he going to lose you twice over.
Taking a few deep breaths, Henry unlocked the front door and eased his way inside. You weren’t around the sunlit soaked first floor of the apartment, and when he traipsed upstairs and nudged your door open, you weren’t there either. He wanted you tucked in your bed, not gone and probably terrified at the thought of seeing him, so running to James’s or Jake’s or Jason’s apartment to avoid him. That would be the perfect painful exclamation point on the disaster of his poor decision making.
Then he found you. Not missing, but snug in his bed, warming the mattress with your body as it dipped the slightest under your weight. Everything about the sight killed him and melted his heart simultaneously. There you were, laying peacefully angelic, right where he had wanted you for months. And it looked so beautifully natural.
Not even stopping to think, Henry inched his way to the other side of his bed, lifted the duvet and slid beneath it. He reached an arm around your waist and pulled you close to kiss your forehead, then tucked his face into the crook of your neck. When you stirred, he leaned back to take in your face as your eyebrows scrunched and your lips parted in a yawn.
You didn’t open your eyes but rose a hand, placed it on his cheek, and ran a thumb along the corner of his mouth. As the goosebumps spawned all over his body, he wasn’t even sure you were fully awake, but then you whispered, “It was always you, Henry. Always.”
Henry swallowed hard as your sleepy voice continued.
“I figured you weren’t an option, and I was doing my best working around that.”
After running a hand over your hair and tucking some behind your ear, Henry pressed a kiss to your lips. A short, soft one to see how you’d react. Then you opened your eyes slowly and met your Y/E/C with his blue.
“Do it again,” You said, and so he connected your lips a little firmer, tightening his hold on you, and rolling on his back until your body splayed over his.
You moaned when he caressed his tongue against yours after opening your mouth an inch. Your heart fluttered in your chest the stupid way dramatic, moony-eyed women often described it in novels. You thought it was a myth, the idea that anyone could make you feel so loved just from a kiss, and you’d lost hope for that kind of thing long ago. But Henry ripped your pessimism to shreds in a matter of minutes.
“I want you to be mine,” he mumbled against your lips. “Just mine.”
“Then I’m yours,” You said without hesitation, tilting your head back enough to look in his eyes. You nudged your nose against his. “Just yours.”
---
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jiminrings · 3 years
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OKAY LISTEN idk if someone or you already planned sth like this but how about y/n finally decides to confess/tell jk but someone else claims to be her before she could do it so * cue to the angst bc y/n sees the whole thing/she hears from her friends * and ofc koo eventually finds out bc that b*tch doesn't even have the fucking lunchboxes 😑
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cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D
stem koo's the three-peat king for having the best research papers, but he's the worst when it comes to believing the right person
"i think i'm gonna tell him."
you say it to no one in particular, really, but you hear yoongi rISING from his nap on the couch
it wasn't meant to wake him at all
it was just an epiphany of sorts that popped into your head
physically felt as if your head would just bursT if you didn't say it out loud to affirm your own thoughts lmao
"for real???" he's rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, very evident that he wouldn't wake up to finish his thirteen pending assignments but he 10/10 would wake up to hear your epiphany
yoongi is awake for the action!!!! lmao does professor roux from calculus think that he wakes up at the morning and doing shapes (or whatever they teach at calc) is the fIRST thing in his mind????
"interesting," he nods solemnly when you nod your head, reaching out for a fist bump before he plops to your shoulder, "i suggest dressing like a virgin wearing H&M when you confess. it would hit close to home."
yoongi's the touchy affectionate one between the two of you but you'll forgive him bc he's still sleepy
NOOOOOOO
jungkook doesn't look like a virgin wearing H&M :((((
his clothes aren't from there lol
"pass."
"say that you're a top verified contributor both in quora and brainly."
PLEAAAAAASE SJWHSHWHHWV
"nice idea," you snort as yoongs genuinely thinks that it'd get jungkook to propose on the spot, "but no cigar."
"pretend to love big bang theory."
"you're getting onto something here."
"your hobby is fact-checking rick and morty."
"yoongi wow you are on fIRE today-"
"your guilty pleasure is not wearing protective gear during experiments."
"where is this coming from??"
"OH!!!! i'll pretend to mug him or something and you can attack me!!!"
....
??????
yeah yoongi's train of thought just crashed
you were pretty sure he was going on a science theme there wHY DID IT DERAIL
yoongi looks confused because you look confused, as if he didn't just give you the mindblowing idea,, free of charge
lol but no he really didn't
"i'm not doing any of that shit, yoongs."
"oh yeah???" he squints at you and hollows his cheeks, taunting you entertainingly while he worms his way to your lap to nap again
"what are you planning to do?"
holy sHIT this is nerve-wracking
she feels like she's gonna pass out the whole time that she's been rehearsing this in her head
she's been waiting outside the classroom for twenty minutes now and the bell finally rang and she can't believe it!!!! omg is it game-time now
everyone's filing out of the room and she could just feel that jungkook would come out of the room last-
ALRIGHT FUCK THE BELL RANG
you could do this!!!!
everyone's filing out of the room and you know in your heart that jungkook would stay behind, his routine being to politely chat with the professor before he leaves
you're a lil nervous alright
you're scanning the room and there's only a few people left and your eyes instinctively go to the mini desk next to the door and-
FUCK
DID YOU FORGET TO BRING IT HOME YESTERDAY??????
goddamn it
yesterday was when coach jeong was mad because someone from your team just hAD to bring beer!!! and not even have the common sense to put it on a discreet thermos or sth and you know!!!! to not drink it in public or in front of the coach!!!!
doing laps on the oval field will now make you hurl on command just by thinking about it
you physically did not have the cognizance to go and fetch the lunchbox to wash it,,,, or like even move at all
FUCK IT
how are you gonna swipe the lunchbox now? now when the professor's packing up, jungkook's loitering around the classroom, and there's this girl who's-
wait
who's this girl??
who is she and wHY IS SHE EYEING THE LUNCHBOX
fuck it!!! here goes nothing
she's stepping completely into the room and making sure her block heels generate enough clacking,, hands already moving in practiced moments as she attempts in making it seem like she's rushedly putting the lunchbox bag into her tote — as if it's from there, and she's always done this
jungkook hears noises coming from the back of the room, eyes widening before he comes up the stairs in record time
"no. get your own."
he grips the girl's wrist, about to pry off her hands from his lunchbox
he hears her giggle sweetly, the melody being something he's heard before
"i did. after all, i did get you these."
:O
"hyeji?"
hyeji's a pretty girl!!! a nice girl in jungkook's year that wears fit dresses and cartier bangles :D
she stands out really, sometimes literally because she appears in the school's flyers and advertisements
"hyeji," jungkook breathlessly connects the dots including the fact that she looks caught in the act; holding his lunchbox, her tote bag open, and a peek of another completely different lunchbox in her other hand, "i-it's been you this whole time?"
hyeji blushes, sheepishly tucking her perfectly shiny and neat hair behind her ears, "you caught me then."
kook laughs both in nervousness and giddiness, pushing his glasses up and suddenly conscious that he should've worn contacts, "b-but how? we don't share this class."
:O
hyeji bursts into a giggle, blushed cheeks staining further than the five minutes she tried getting the perfect amount
"r-right! kinda amazing what depths you'd go for a person you like, hm?"
jungkook is about to pass out
HE'S PUT IN A SITUATION
a situation that he likes and is too giddy to find a reply for
he apparently doesn't need a reply, because a chair scrapes harshly against the floor and it brings him down to reality immediately
you cannot fucking believe what you just witnessed
you stand abruptly from the seat you've been frozen in with a great deal of urgency because you cAN'T stand to be in this room any longer
they actually forgot that the two of them aren't alone
that you're still here
little miss hyeji's just as shocked
you feel stupid and even more stupid that you're still holding a stupid notebook you even decorated
it has a doodle in the front and all the remaining pages are of the copies you've replicated on jungkook's sticky notes — the same ones you've been trying to make perfect just for him
"y/n!" he sputters when your backpack accidentally leans too much to your side and hits him on the way out
"move."
you’re feeling everything but fine and god you just hated that you always willed yourself to move oN
you’re beyond mad when you put on your jersey!!!
you’re irrevocably dejected when you put on your cleats!!!!
you feel cheated on when you zip up your duffel and walk all the way to the field!!!
it’s a combination of the type of frustration that makes you want to move plus the type that paralyzes you, the whole thing unlike anything you’ve ever felt before
you’re clearly in your head and frankly, you’re just too good
too good that there's no game at all because the only thing happening is you scoring
there's no passing going on or the sort
everyone is just :O looking at their captain to be in the most furiously determined state that they’ve ever seen you in
you don’t even realize that you’re the oNLY one moving in the whole field
“alright, alright — jesus christ! go to the bench and sort your head out, captain,” coach jeong literally has to JOG over to your spot to jolt you
oh there he is again
jaehyun just had to bench you didn’t he
sometimes it’s lost on you that jaehyun, just like seokjin, used to be your senior
he hated juniors with a burning passion and you’re the ONLY one he’s taken a tolerance for
((you lent him your umbrella and it coincidentially had to be a bad day for him tHEN that made him like you))
you’re having none of it though because this time, you’re the one who has the bad day and the captain title does nothing to appease you
“sure, coach.”
you mumble just as lively and walk to completely the fURTHEST side of the bleachers, being so far out that you could barely see your team
what are you supposed to do? simmer in the thoughts you so badly didn’t want to have in silence??????
"y/n?"
the voice you least expected to hear perks up right next to you
what the hell is jungkook doing here now??
he looks lost, two hands clinging onto his backpack straps before tentatively looking at you again
“did i do anything to upset you?”
so he wants to ask that?
you snort automatically, suddenly wishing that you didn’t walk this far because you can’t make an excuse that jaehyun’s calling for you
"because my bag accidentally hit you on the way out? no, jungkook."
jungkook knits his brows in question, seemingly take offense to what you’ve just said to hom
"we're not exactly associated for me to be mad at you, are we?" you emphasize even further, not caring the least bit that your words have an edge to them
he deadpans, pursing his lips before sarcastically smiling at you
".... so you're upset at me?"
://
jungkook takes your silence for him to delve further, not paying attention to how your eye is begging to twitch at him
"i asked if i did anything to upset you, and you said no. but that doesn't necessarily mean you aren't. you could be upset at me even if i didn't do anything to you."
wow
you sound like a real fucking nerd jungkook
"do you have any idea how condescending you sound right now?"
kook barely has a solid inch on you yet the nagging feeling that he’s belittling you makes you grip your fists tight, posture wavering
"so you do admit that you're upset at me?"
he’s not the most patient person either but something about you and the situation right now just makes him tick a little faster
your eyes narrow at what he’s aiming to get at, your hand on your hip feeling heavy at this point
"what does it matter to you if i'm upset or not? we are not-"
"i am associated to you!!! even to a degree!!! you walked me home!"
jungkook is the one who breaks first and he doesn’t look fazed to have opposed you so loudly, still standing by himself
"i would walk anyone home."
"no you wouldn't-"
"i would walk anyone who was as vulnerable and as anxious as you were, jungkook!!"
it is true
you’d walk anyone home within reason regardless if they were jungkook or not!!!
the guy in question only looks at you straightly, brows not stubborn but still just as unrelaxed
:((
"good to know. then you're not upset at me, and i didn't do anything to upset you."
"sure."
you only say just to spite him, about to turn your back and leave him completely to go back to your practice game
jungkook surprises you again and flips a switch just as quick as your mini argument of sorts escalated
"anyways!! i'm sorry for being a little off when i interviewed you that day. i got a 100 on that assignment, by the way :))"
what?
what’s he still doing here?
he’s talking about his grades and whatnot to you as if literally twenty seconds ago did nOT happen!!
"why are you still-"
"and the one who's been giving me my lunchboxes confessed to me today!! for hyeji to be the girl giving me them, it makes perfect sense."
you shrug away the weirdness that jungkook’s moved on from the argument as fast as this, trying a take two for a peaceful conversation
this time, you’re the one who unknowingly flips a switch at her name — something so foreign and sudden yet something you quickly grew to hate
"i wouldn't be so trusting if i were you."
that seems to hit a nerve on him again, making him scoff in reply
"good thing you aren't me then."
what is ON with him????
"watch it. i'm your senior, kid."
you’re more irritated than the first and second time around that you’ve been agitated this day
"why? are you normally this self-absorbed that you wouldn't trust a girl who's confessed??"
self-absorbed?
you aren’t the most selfless person ever but god do you know for a fact that you’re not vain as jungkook’s insisting you to be
you hate him.
you hate this version of him that isn’t the same jungkook you’ve known to like ever since the start of the semester
"same thing as polygraphs not being a hundred percent reliable. anyone could tell the truth as long as you ask the wrong questions," you detail on further because jungkook loves details, right? might as well give him several
"or did you even ask?"
jungkook scowls as if you’ve insulted his mother and his entire lineage, face contorting into everything but warm
"what does it matter to you? didn't you just tell me that we aren't associated? why are you projecting all your moaning on hyeji?"
WHAT
WHAT????
"you know what? maybe i am associated to you. i think i'd also tell this to everyone i'd walk home — maybe you shouldn't be too trusting, huh? maybe you shouldn't just let anyone walk you home."
the tears this time are more insistent to come out this time but you’d rather dIE than for jungkook to stain your pride like this
"no one should walk me home, besides you? is that what you're trying to say?"
no!!
for fuck's sake you aren't even finished with your point!!
before you could continue, jungkook shakes his head at you — the most disappointing shake of his head that it curses you soft
"what am i even doing? you wouldn't understand."
he closes the distance that’s been alarmingly shorter throughout the whole time, jungkook being the one to break it
"because no one gives you lunchboxes. no one exerts effort in making you cheerful — no one wants to go the extra mile for you, and no one wants to walk you home."
he's insulting you right to your face and that’s when your dam breaks, lips quivering impossibly as you stare him down with a genuinely pained gaze you didn’t know you carried
"you wouldn't know what i feel, because no one likes you."
jungkook gets the last word in.
he leaves you in the same field he's first approached you in nervousness.
today, he leaves it differently.
sweat isn't the only thing on your face but instead it’s the frustrating hot tears you haven’t had in awhile
your fists are balled but there's no power to the anger behind it
you’re almost always alone outside the company of the closest friends you’ve ever had — but this is the only time that you truly felt that you are alone.
today's a good day to give up on jungkook.
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scorpiobitch95 · 3 years
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Summary: You try convince Walter to love your favorite snack throughout your years together. The best dates are shared over cereal, after all.
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: sugary sweet fluff, implied smut — nothing graphic, snarkiness, grumpy Walter to fluffy Walter, cursing, cuteness overload.
Author's Note: I let myself get carried away with this one. I needed grumpy but sweet Walter in my life. I hope you enjoy!
Edited by myself, sorry not sorry for the errors.
Taglist: @justaboringadult @greensleeves888 @cavillsharman @beck07990 @summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @kebabgirl67
Taglist for this fic: @lumiousmoon
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own.
Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!
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It started when you and Walter were early dating.
💋
“Mmmm, pause. I need a snack.” Uncurling yourself from Walter’s warm body on the couch, you made your way to the kitchen to find something to cure your hunger. You called behind you, “Want anything, Marsh?”
“Whatever you’re having... I’ll have the same.”
“Cereal it is!” You pulled the ceramic bowls from the cabinet and opened the fridge to grab the milk. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Walter’s face scrunch in confusion. “What?”
“Cereal? Absolutely not,” Walter scoffed. “Would you grab me those spicy crisps?”
“Spicy chips, coming right up.” Vernacular was the subject of an ongoing heated debate with the Brit: the great ‘Names for Snacks Debate’ was especially hostile.
Once settled back under the blanket and snuggled into his side once more, you unpaused the movie. The energy in the room shifted, you could sense that you were being watched, but you refused to look up to look at Walter’s face. The judgment coming from the bear of a man who crunched his chips beside you was glaring.
"Stop it," you told him as you kept your eyes on the movie.
Walter didn’t say a word. His eyes traveled back to the TV but kept finding their way back to you.
“Walt, what is it? Is there something on my face?” You giggled at him lightly, unsure of what was bothering him.
“You really chose that for a snack?” His face was bewildered as if you were eating a bowl of Jeep parts.
“What? Don’t tell me you don’t eat cereal as a snack.” He shook his head curtly, wearing a look of disgust. Your eyebrows crinkled together as you followed by asking, “Not even as a quick dinner?”
“Cereal is meant for one time and one place, and that’s sometimes in the mornings for breakfast. That's why they call it breakfast cereal, love. Not dinner cereal, not snack cereal... Do you also eat cereal for lunch?” He was poking fun at you now.
“No, I’m not a heathen, Walter. Here, try a bite, just trust me. It’s amazing as a movie snack.”
His eyes were wide as a grimace was sent in your direction, “You’re crazy — no one does that.”
“Plenty of people do that,” you stated matter-of-factly.
“I’m really not the biggest fan…” Walter sighed and settled further into the couch, preparing for your exasperation that he knew was soon to follow.
“WHAT. Not the biggest fan of cereal? I’m sorry, you were sheltered as a child, weren’t you? There's cereal out there for everyone, Walt. Come on, try it.” You scooped a spoonful of your sugary Cinnamon Toast Crunch and held it to him. He reluctantly obliged your wishes, eating the bite but keeping a look of pain on his face for the entire time he chewed.
"See? Delicious. Ice-cold, crunchy, sweet, perfect." A sugary grin accompanied your playful tone, and Walter shook his head again, exaggerating his distaste for having to chew such an atrocity.
"Mhm. Definitely delicious." Your goofy bear was simmering under the surface of his scouring demeanor, though he stuck his tongue out in mock disgust.
"You're not the biggest fan," you muttered under your breath and rolled your eyes for dramatic effect. "I'll show you."
💋
Standing in the grocery store, you and Walter were having a battle of wits, arguing on the subject of your sweet tooth.
“I’m just trying to show concern for your dental health since you obviously won’t; all that sugar isn’t good for you.” Walter stood stern with his arms crossed, unmoving and solid like a brick wall.
“I appreciate your worry, Dad, but I’m going to keep eating it because I love it. One day, I bet I’ll convince you and you’ll be eating it with me. Plus, my dental health is immaculate, my dentist said so.”
The expression on Walter's face was unwavering as his eyebrows raised in a non-verbal challenge to your declaration.
“I don’t know how you can stand to eat that crap,” he muttered, thinking you couldn’t hear him.
“Oh no, don’t you dare, you grump! I don’t get on you about your snacks, back off mine. ” Despite his unnecessary grouchiness, you placed a hand on his crossed arms and raised up on your toes to give him a soft kiss on his bearded face. “Balance, babe. It’s all about balance.” You dug your way through his arms to find his hands and you drug him a little further down the cereal aisle.
“Come on, grumbly, pick out a cereal you think you might enjoy, for experiment’s sake.”
💋
“Fuck, babe. I’m going to be late, we just got called out on another accident. I am so sorry… I’m not sure when I’ll be home.” Walter had been working a ton lately, and his irritation with just how much he’d been working was starting to show. The two of you had been together for a few months now and had started to grow accustomed to having the other around consistently. You both became out of sorts when you hadn’t seen each other in a while.
“Don’t even worry about it, Walter. Just be careful, please... You should still come over when you’re finished tonight, but no pressure if you’re exhausted.”
“Of course, still need to kiss you goodnight. I can’t sleep if I haven’t.”
Walter Marshall might be a grump, but that grump could make your heart flutter in ways that you’d never felt before. Maybe it was that his sweetness and his charms were completely reserved for you and you alone. His teddy bear nature only appeared when he was near you.  After putting back the ingredients for dinner to save for another night, you went to change into your sweats.
Walter appeared at your front door at 12:30 that night, nearly asleep but still standing strong. You’d dozed off on the couch after his call, but were immediately energized again when you saw his beautiful form standing in your doorway.
“Hello, I’m here to have a very late night date with an incredibly beautiful woman,” Walter said, the gravel in his voice making you shiver. Despite his exhaustion, Walter managed to smile at you with one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen him manage.
You smirked, waving him inside. “Get in here, Bear.”
Walter reached his arms out to you, inviting you into his embrace. Your arms wrapped around his thick torso and you ran your hands up and down his sweater-clad back; he melted into you and burrowed his face into your neck. Walter released an exhaustive exhale. It was heavy and forceful, as though he’d been holding it back behind a stone barricade for the entirety of his day. Warmth flooded your body as his words vibrated from his chest, “Mmm... I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. Let’s get you fed. Preferences?”
Still snuggled in your neck, he gave his reply, “Nothing heavy, please. I don’t want to fall asleep at the table. That wouldn’t make for a good date.”
“Oh Walter, we can postpone date night, you need to eat something and get to bed. It’s nearly one,” you observed gently as you leaned your head back to get a better look at his face.
“No. I came here to have a date night. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. I need you.” Walter’s warm lips caressed your forehead, placing soft kisses on you. “You think you’re still up for it?”
Nodding at him sweetly, you untangled from his embrace and went to tumble through the fridge, offering out suggestions for food, but he insisted, yet again, that you don’t go to any trouble.
“Okay… you’re going to hate it, but my last option is cereal. Other than that, it’s gonna be random leftovers.” You continued moving containers around in the fridge, taking stock of what you had left from the week before.
“Actually, I think I can handle some cereal.” You whipped your head around incredulously to look and heckle him, but he gruffly interrupted, pointing a finger at you from where he sat at your kitchen table. "Don't. Don't start. It's been a brutal day, and something cold doesn't sound half bad."
You smirked in silence as you turned back and poured your bowls, dancing your hips lightly side to side. Grabbing the candles you had left out for your dinner date, you lit them and placed them gently on the table between the two of you. It was date night, after all.
“Late night cereal date, it is.” Reaching down to caress his chin, you kissed one bearded cheek before sitting beside him. Walter’s lips held a slight curl, softly smiling at your glee.
💋
“Love, snack break?”
The two of you were engaged in an intense game of Scrabble, one of your favorite date-night-in traditions. Nodding your head in Walter’s direction, you continued to study your letters and the board with pure focus until you heard the twinkling sound of cereal hitting ceramic.
Not wanting to draw too much attention, you peeked up from your letter rack to make sure your ears weren’t deceiving you. Walter was not just making a bowl for you, but he was also making one for himself.
No way.
Walter made his way back to the table with the cereal, and you looked up at him in shock as though you hadn’t already noticed what he’d done.
“What is this? What is this I see? Walter Marshall choosing breakfast cereal as a snack? Why, I just cannot believe it.” Mock-surprise overtook your form as you motioned fake mind-blowing explosions from your head. Walter rolled his eyes.
“I figured If I can learn to like you, I can learn to like cereal.”
“HEY.”
Walter shrugged, retaking his seat at the table.
You squinted your eyes at him as you declared, “You’re going down for that. And I don’t just mean by losing this game.” A wicked grin crossed your face when you played your double score word:
“CHEERIO”
💋
Walter worked a lot of graveyard shifts while you were dating and during your early years of marriage while you worked a normal 8-5. Sometimes the only moments that you could see each other were when he came home from his shift early in the mornings before you started your day or in the evenings when you got home before he left to start his.
One early morning during your engagement, Walt showed up unannounced after a hard few nights at the PD. He was worn down but happy to see you, smiling through his exhaustion. This was the longest you’d been apart in a while; you hadn't seen each other in 4 days. You kissed him, lips attacking his while his arms snaked around you and pulled you tightly to his body. He hadn’t even come into the house yet.
Pulling him inside, your hands reached up to hold his scruffy face as you placed a more gentle kiss on his lips. “Babe, have you had dinner? Let’s get you something to eat… what would you like?”
He unfastened his holster, dropping it on the table by the door. Sinking into a chair, Walter bent over to untie his boots as he answered, “Honestly, anything is fine, just some kind of food.”
“I can cook you something! Why don’t you let me —“
“Sweet, don’t go to any trouble. I just want to see you before you go to work.”
He looked at the table where you had just sat down to a bowl of cereal for a quick breakfast before he arrived and pointed lazily to it. “That, I’ll take some,” he said, sleep trying to overtake his form.
Slowly grinning at his statement, you mentioned, "Isn't this technically your dinner time?" Walter wasn’t amused as he tilted his head to look at you as you gasped playfully, “You do realize you're about to eat cereal for dinner, right, Marsh?" Too sleepy to give his verbal rebuttal, he glared at you, the corners of his lips turning up slightly, which was your signal to accept your victory and move on.
Smiling softly back at him, you made your way to pour him a big bowl and made him a cup of piping hot tea to accompany it. Watching his face as he ate, you observed the little creases and purple-gray rings that had formed around his deep ocean-blue eyes. His beard was unkempt and had grown past its normal length just in the few days you’d been apart; you could see this was a new level of exhaustion.
“Tough night?” You asked him, moving your chair closer to him.
He nodded. “Very.” The nights were becoming more strenuous recently. Ever since he had switched to the detective unit, work had been holding him hostage and was taking a toll more than he’d like to admit.
His hand reached over to squeeze the free one lying on your lap. “I’m happy to see you, love.” The hard lines on his face softened as he traced lazy circles on the back of your hand with his calloused thumb. You could see in his eyes that he meant it, that you were his safe space. Walter always was in protection mode, always on alert, even though you tried to keep him at ease when he was with you. He was only really ever at ease once he was home and you were safe in his arms.
The food began to rouse him from sleepiness, and as he gained alertness, Walter’s brow furrowed as he took notice of the cereal box sitting on the dining table. “This is the one we’re eating? I expected you to be eating more of one of those tooth-rotting cereals that you love so much.” He looked over at the box of Honey Bunches of Oats with curiosity and then back at you, lifting what you called his ‘detective eyebrow.’
“This is… surprisingly somewhat better for you? Or at least it acts like it is.”
“Oh come on, I’m not that bad. I only let you believe that I am. It is my breakfast time after all,” you winked at him knowingly.
“Good to know my words are finally starting to sink in. I mean, it’s not that much better for you,” he was reading the box now, “but at least it isn’t borderline fluorescent, like those artificial fruity ones you’re always eating.”
“You know, it’s almost like I expect the hate and just enact my deflection shield every time you walk in the door.” You started giggling, unable to keep a straight face as you threw your arms in front of your face as a shield to his words. “Don’t worry, Walt, my guilty pleasure cereal collection is well-stocked. And quit hating on my Fruity Pebbles.”
💋
Slowly over time, these seemingly random cereal dates became a large foundation for quality time. These dates became like snapshots, each one memorable in its own way.
When you two hadn’t seen each other in days, you caught up over a cold bowl of sugary sweetness. You, telling all the details of your days; him, quietly listening and trying his best to leave his nights behind.
From then on, all it took was knowing you could have a cereal date mixed in the chaos of everyday life. Anytime things got hard or heavy, it was time to have a cereal date. Anytime you had a fight: you both would pause and make a bowl of cereal, sitting across the table from each other so that you could speak your feelings. There weren’t many of the world’s problems, or your own, that couldn’t be solved over sugary cereal and cold milk.
💋
You’d dragged Walter to your shared bed as soon as he’d arrived home, having not seen him for more than a few minutes at a time for the past month. This current case of his was intense and ongoing, but he was finally finished. You knew he was defeated in energy, but you were ovulating and your hormones were raging. Your body craved his touch and the feel of his skin gliding upon your own.
The plan was to go to dinner for a romantic evening since it had been a long while since that had been possible, but as soon as he walked through the door, your feral sexuality washed over you and you jumped into his arms. You clung to him with your face in his neck, taking in his scent and the warmth of his strong arms holding you up. He clung to you just as tightly. There was no complaint from the bear, for he was more than happy to spend the evening spoiling his lover.
Cuddling in the afterglow of your countless orgasms, a storm raged outside as tree limbs slapped at your windows incessantly.
“Wow, it sounds awful out there. I know we were going out, but I think that point is moot now.” You glanced up at Walter, kissing his jaw. “Let’s just cook something easy instead.”
“That sounds great, and we can stay naked.” Walt’s eyebrows danced flirtatiously as he grinned down at you, his hands caressing your warm skin. “I’ll go hunt around so I can keep my woman energized for the night ahead. We are nowhere near done.”
He’d only been gone a minute when a crack of thunder shook the house and the lights went dark. You heard his mumbling coming from the kitchen; he had called in to get a status update from the energy company.
Walking back into the bedroom, Walter, in his naked glory, walked over to where you laid, illuminated only by the candle he held in his hand. Wow, your husband was delicious.
"Power’s out for the whole city. It’ll take hours since this storm doesn’t have an end in sight. Looks like a hot dinner is off the table… and no one will deliver in this weather. I guess we know what’s for dinner." Setting the candle on the nightstand, he crawled back into bed.
Feeling seductive, despite being completely spent from your ravenous love-making mere minutes beforehand, you still hadn’t had your fill of your husband. You bit your lip as you ran your eyes up and down his exquisite body and cheekily replied, “Me, I hope.”
He chuckled lowly, the fangs in his pearly-white smile glinting at you in the candlelight. “You? Yes. I plan to feast on you all night long, kitten. But you’re going to need some sustenance first.” He was hovering over you. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached to run your fingers along his hairy chest and wrapped a leg around his hip, pulling him closer to you.
"Make it a cereal date?" You grinned at him.
“You read my mind.”
💋
“Our child is going to come out looking like the Lucky Charms Leprechaun if you don’t change it up some, love.”
Your cravings were intense. You’d heard several different views from your girlfriends and sisters: some craved random things they never even liked before, and some craved more of the things that they already loved and ate religiously before pregnancy. You fell into the latter. Cereal was your most sought-after snack: a big surprise to no one.
There weren’t many cliche late-night ice cream runs, but there were plenty of cereal and milk runs. Walter was a dutiful dad already, not lecturing you too often on what you wanted; he knew you were doing what you had to for the baby, and you ate healthily enough… aside from the copious amounts of junk cereal.
True to numerous other times in your life, date nights were hard to come by, even still. Sometimes the only dates you and Walter would get were in the wee hours of the morning when you’d wake up with a craving.
Walter was extremely doting, and even though he’d always been a caretaker, he really came into his own when you both learned you were to become parents. He’d crawl from the bed without a word, rummaging in the kitchen to bring you a bowl of your favorite and even bringing a small one for himself. You two would snuggle in the bed and talk. Talk about your baby, about future babies, about the future, about your dreams, all of it. You never knew when you met the grumpy bear that he would become this sweet of a man, always tender with you even when he was rough. Maybe it was the cereal sugar that had sweetened him up, at least you’d like to think so.
💋
Your daughter had been in the world for a little over three weeks, and neither you nor Walter had gotten much sleep since her arrival.
Walter finally got her down to sleep while you watched from the nursery doorway. You hadn’t had a meal together or slept at the same time for more than 10 minutes in weeks.
He was standing over her crib, resting his arms on the side as he watched her sleep. He was infatuated with this tiny human who had completely taken hold of his heart.
“Honey, join me for a date?” Your smile was tired, and as your bear’s exhausted eyes met yours, you wondered if you two shouldn’t just go to bed, but you missed him. You’d barely gotten the chance to praise him for how good of a daddy he was to your little girl.
“Mhm, gladly. Our usual?” He quietly followed you to the living room, where the coffee table had already been set up with the works. Craving the feel of his touch on your skin, you both sat on the couch and you laid your legs across his lap while you enjoyed the serenity of each other’s company.
💋
A chill glided across your skin as you awoke from a dream. You rolled over, reaching your arms out to find your sturdy man, searching for his warmth. Instead, you found cold bedsheets.
Unlike Walter to not be in bed with a furry arm draped over you, you pulled on your robe and went to find him, a slight worry filling your mind.
Surely he would have woken me if he’d had to go in?
As you stepped into the hallway, you heard hushed giggles and whispers coming from the kitchen. You stopped to poke your head into your kids’ rooms. Their beds were empty.
At least it’s Saturday.
Quietly pitter-pattering to your kitchen, you peered your head around the corner to find one of the sweetest sights your eyes had ever seen: your two babes, 8 and 5, were playing a princess board game at the table with your Bear. Cereal by their side, giggles ensued as the sugar hit their systems and they tried their best to keep quiet.
Walter’s deep whisper quietly filled the space. “Shh, girls. We can’t wake Mum, she needs her rest.”
“Can I have more Cap’n Crunch, Daddy?” Your youngest had an insatiable sweet tooth, just like her mama. She was quietly bouncing in her chair and smiling a toothy grin at her daddy.
“You’re just like your mum,” Walter beamed at her, obliging her wishes. “Just a little more, love, then we need to brush our teeth and get back to sleep.”
Not wanting the girls to know that you knew about their secret, you decided to make your way back to bed, but not before catching your husband’s eye as he winked at you and a grin radiated from his face.
Warm tingles filled your body as you silently thanked the universe for Walter and the life that the two of you had built together. Walter was the best dad and husband in the world. How had you gotten so lucky?
💋
“Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Golden Grahams, love?” Walter called to you from the kitchen.
The movie was selected, the kids were away for the evening sleeping at friend’s houses, and you and Walter were having a much-deserved night in.
You called back to him, “I’m thinking I’m going to skip the cereal? I’m not really feeling it tonight. I will, however, eat the spicy chips. Oh, and grab that dip out of the fridge, will ya?”
“For the last time, they are crisps.” Annoyance was evident by his tone.
“They’re chips, Walter. You’ve lived in the states for how long now? Just give it up already.”
“No fucking way. Wait… You don’t want cereal? Are you feeling alright?” Walter’s head popped into the doorway that connected the kitchen to the living room, his face stern with confusion and concern.
“Ehh, not right now. Yes, I’m fine, Marsh,” you giggled. “Just feeling like something different for once.”
“Well, that’s shocking. I’m just wondering if you’re really my wife.” Giggles continued to flow out of you as he wandered back to where you were seated. He handed you your snack, and plopped on the couch next to you, cuddling into you as you tossed a blanket over both of your bodies. Walter started the movie and began to chow down on the bowl of cereal he’d made for himself. You couldn’t control the smirk that spread across your lips as you watched him out of the corner of your eye.
“What?” he asked, his mouth full of the golden and cinnamon squares. His eyes met yours, questioning you.
“I would just like to point out that I knew I could convince you.”
His brow furrowed in confusion, not sure what you meant. “Convince me of what?”
“That cereal is the best movie snack.”
“I don’t know if I’d say it’s the best…”
“Walt, I’m sitting here with your previous favorite movie snack in my hands, and you totally skipped over it and went for cereal. I’m just saying, I told you so. It’s okay, I’ve known I was right all along, you don’t have to admit it.”
“Hmm.” He growled, mouth full again as he ignored your statement.
“Give me a bite!” You pressed closer to him, reaching for his spoon as he angled his body and cereal away from you.
“Oh no, nice try. You tease, you don’t get any.”
“Fine, grumpy, I’ll go make my own. Keep watching, I’ll be back.”
Shuffling to the kitchen, you proceeded to grab a bowl and make your own, but you found both cereal boxes empty on the counter. Quickly turning to check your special cereal cabinet for a backup box, you discovered you were completely out.
“WALTER! Are you fucking kidding me? We just bought those!” Standing with your arms crossed in the doorway, you glared at Walt as he stared back at you unfazed.
“I hate to break up your gloating, but you created this monster, love. And don’t forget about our two other little monsters who take after you.” His grin was cocky; he knew he’d bested you. Laser beams could have been shooting from your eyes for all you knew. You shook your head in disbelief at the audacity of your husband.
That bastard. That beautiful bastard.
Walter smiled softly at you and motioned for you to rejoin him on the couch. Much to your dismay, your anger at him diffused immediately. “Love, I’ll go buy more first thing in the morning. Here, come and share mine. I’ll be nice… it is date night, after all.”
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* I do not own Walter Marshall, Nomis, Night Hunter, or anything related to it.
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elriell · 3 years
Text
Some jumbled up thoughts about Elain, Lucien and Azriel + Mating Bonds
There have been a lot of conversations regarding this topic and I thought I’d flesh it out a bit myself, but these are facts/observations that as a fandom many have noticed, discussed, analysed. I just wanted to dive in myself fully.
I want to talk about each of them individually as well as, as a whole. Their emotions and mindsets, as someone who loves all three characters and wishes for all of them to get a happy ending. I will preface this with saying I will be discussing why it is very likely Elain will reject the bond and such things, so along the lines of Anti-Elucien. If you are a fan of them, thats cool, just skip this one if you happen upon it. 
We are going to dive in to the following;
Lucien & Elain  (their choices)
Lucien & Azriel  (contrast)
Rejecting the Bond
New Bonds
Fate & THE POV 
and why the writing is basically telling us everything we need to know...
Lucien 
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Lucien is noble male, he has a good heart and has suffered his plenty, and this is why people want what is best for him, to be the happiest he can... Unfortunately I think that in this case Elain is not it. 
He is right to feel that way, just as Elain has a right to feel as she does. I think it is incredibly interesting that when we finally see from his POV we see that in a way he feels as though this has been thrust on them. 
That with his last love he had a choice and so did she.
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It reminds me very much of this line about Rhysand’s parents, who were an example of an unhappy mating bond.
We will deep dive in to wrong matches further down, but the fact is that mated couples are not always indicators of true paired souls, that they very well could be the couple that do not end up happy together.
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I speak on Elain and her agency a lot because I feel like a large portion of the fandom like to discard it as if it means nothing, and even judge her for it but if we actually take a look at Lucien’s behaviour he is not all that more happy.
There are some key differences between them though, Lucien as a male feels their bond to a different degree than she does, and he also has been raised to believe and respect the bond. And thus he feels a certain obligation to honour it in the best way he can. 
This doesn’t mean he thinks she is right for him, any further than his attraction to her (which like same dude same), he hasn’t displayed any signs that they actually aline as a couple. And I feel like SJM clearly highlights this when she sets examples of his gifts not being... well right for her. 
The gloves we know she never wears show us how little they know each other as she loves to get dirty [which Feyre had told him] and the pearl necklace is then contrasted by Azriels which was very personalised to Elain. 
(The rose, the secret beauty of it hitting the light etc...)
These are all deliberate moves by Sarah to showcase their misaligned bond.
And during Elain’s section I will also be pointing out some Lucien moments that really don’t read well for him. I genuinely believe he is much happier amongst the Band of Exhiles than he is when he is seen with The Inner Circus.
Elain
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Here is the thing, this situation isn’t any easier on him that’s true but people need to respect Elains feelings, and the fact is she does not like him. Not only does she not like him but she shrinks in on herself, she looses all the progress and confidence she has made since the Cauldron. That is not a good sign of anything healthy.
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If this is suppose to be a romance we root for why is she doing everything in her power to make it seem the opposite? If she genuinely was playing the long game she would have at least started to make them comfortable around each other, goodness they don’t even have to talk, but she does the opposite.
She emphasises that he brings out the bad in her. Again, no bueno. She quite simply does not want to be around him and with SJM’s writing I think this is highly deliberate on her part. 
[And let’s be clear there are countless quotes from the other books that do NOT reflect well on their relationship but I am trying to stick to ACOSF, as it is her most recent work, otherwise I would be here all day.] 
Rejecting the Bond
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We have almost a two page discussion on why mating bonds are not an exact science, and that they can be more harmful than good. We are given two examples of it, with both Rhys’ and Tamlin’s parents. And then we get a very subtle hit at Azriel. This is all in the book Sarah said she began planting the seeds for the sisters journeys.
We also know from this there is a choice. But that many force it, because they feel it it right, (much like Lucien is probably doing right now, because he feels a duty and hope that it will work out.)  
Then we have the fact thrown at us that a lot of males believe that their mate belongs to them and will challenge the other male, which we now have a call back to with Rhys’ mentioning “The Blood Duel”. 
There is literally not one reason Sarah would put this in TWICE only for it never to happen or come close too happening. How anyone can question at this point that Elriel will happen is confusing to me, she has laid all the groundwork for it.
Now I don’t believe for a second that Lucien wouldn’t respect her choice, I think it will most certainly come down to Beron forcing his hand to wage the war we know he wants.
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I think despite what Rhys said in Azriel’s POV under immense stress, TNC will protect Elain and ultimately stand by her decision. 
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Not only does ACOSF spend a great deal of time creating a further divide between Elain & Lucien it also add a shockingly large quantity of easter eggs about “Elain choosing bonds” “Other Mate” “What if it chose wrong?” and again in this book like in ACOMAF we bring back up a failed mated pair to remind you of it’s existence.
All possible signs lean towards them breaking the bond.
And frankly from a storytelling perspective having three perfect bonds that are basically the same overarching love story (enemies to lovers) is boring, she would want to shake it up and throw a little curveball.
Lucien + Azriel  &  Why I think Azriel will have a bond with Elain.
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“If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate” And low and behold it is Azriel who figures out what was going on with her. Not to mention in the reveal SJM further displays that Lucien has no clue what was going on with her.
I don’t know what bridge holds their bond but I wouldn’t trust crossing it personally... :/
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Further still, Lucien cannot hear her heart. Their bond is definitely not strong but you could also argue that is not an element of the bond at all but rather of her abilities perhaps. Since we know she could hear the sea too though it was nowhere close by.
But Azriel did hear her, he did pay attention and he figured out what was amiss. 
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It is interesting to me that people took such issue with this when I believe very few have issues with Rhys or Cassian fighting for their respective partners. Now I have gone in to it in depth about how I think that this was pure emotion and illogical on Azriel’s part, and I don’t believe he would kill Lucien so carelessly.
I think it speaks to the same blind emotion a lot of them have displayed for their mates, Lucien may have wanted to see if she was worth it but Azriel knows she is worth the fight.
And for all intensive purposes in that moment he was willing to fight for someone he believes shares his feelings.
Now let’s tackle the whole “Possessive” crap.
First of all, all of the male pairings in this series have shown moments like this, so if it is bothering you here why isn’t it bothering you at other points?
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Lucien has been just as instinctively possessive from their bond, and let me clarify, I am not shaming him for that anymore than anyone else. What I am pointing out is the double standard, if anything Azriel has more reason to feel like he can fight for her because she has actually shown him care, interest and attraction. 
They have actually bonded a lot more than she has with Lucien thus far.
And if they truly do have an upcoming bond then judging him on three paragraphs when we don’t know what the heck is going on is just ridiculous.
On the same note of that scene, let’s talk about “deserve”
First of all he never said he deserved her, Rhys implied that is what he was gleaning from the conversation and that it is just lust, which we know is not the case. Clearly Rhys perception is not accurate at all so to take his statement at face value and call it fact is a bit disingenuous.
Azriel wasn’t claiming he deserves her, did you read his POV at all?? He didn’t even feel like his hands should touch her let alone deserve her. Please go back and read that chapter again if you can’t see that.
Not to mention I think that the idea of FATE, and believing in hope even when the odds are stacked against you (AKA her having a mate) is actually very consistent with SJM storytelling and Az. Remember this;
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The fact that he is hopeful despite the despair of his situation is exactly what people have valued about him. Not to mention after Rhys says this to Azriel he says to them;
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So Rhys too believes they were brought in his family for a reason, some sort of fate.
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Amren too thinks they are blessed by fate. Why is it so shocking and offensive that Azriel have a little hope that there is a reason they came in to their lives? Because he isn’t with your fav?
Let’s be honest he didn’t exactly get over Mor in ACOMAF, ACOWAR and then even ACOFAS there are slight moments, thats over a long period. Three sisters didn’t just arrive and he went TAG “I want one.”
No, he genuinely grew to care for Elain, and let go of his past, and in watching Elain not find any connection with her mate he saw it as a sign that the Cauldron was wrong, which we know it can be. 
I don’t know if people are selective readers but if you think that he doesn’t care for her as a person beyond being a “sister” I don’t know what to tell you, we are not reading the same books.
ANYWAYS back on topic.
I think Sarah has laid a lot of groundwork for her breaking the bond and perhaps choosing a new one. I know not everyone is keen on another bond as they feel her free will and choice is enough, that’s fair and I agree to a point. 
I just wanted to analyse the data at hand, and I do believe after ACOSF (I never thought it prior really) that they are mates in some capacity, whether that is because of the Cauldron or something that will occur... I think she has laid enough groundwork for them being Soulmates at the least. Hence why I love the idea of a Carranam bond.
There are so many parallels between Rhys, Cassian & Az that could be taken as little signs but honestly this is long enough I am sure you all want to kill me already for making you read all that hahaha 
One last little morsel, it very well might be nothing but Az shouting after they take Elain is an interesting choice, it’s ambiguous enough that you can take it to mean the pain but it could also be another little crumb.
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Basically with all said and done I think she will give Elain her agency back and break it.
And potentially something will occur with Azriel as a result but thats certainly more grey than the rest of it.
Thank you for coming to my ted talk!
Obviously, to each their own opinion, have fun and ship whatever you want these are just my thoughts on the text at hand!
(Also I am sorry I got like 20+ messages to get to in my inbox, yeah I kinda ignored everyone and worked on this today, sorry!!! I’ll be back tomorrow)
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sokkastyles · 3 years
Text
I came here from the Game of Thrones fandom, the “it was just like that back then in ye olden times” excuse was ridiculous there, and it’s especially ridiculous as an excuse to justify something that is clearly framed as NOT justifiable by the show in a fantasy world. As much as ATLA takes inspiration from Asian cultures, it is not a historical show.
But even if we look at what was considered culturally acceptable in the Fire Nation, what Ozai did to Zuko isn’t justifiable. Not that it matters in any case, but what Ozai does is not even reasonable by any rules of agni kais that we might get from what little canon says about it and historical influences that we might use as examples. The fact that we have so little given to us in canon makes the “oh, it was culturally acceptable” thing rather silly at best because we don’t know what was considered culturally acceptable. At worst it’s rather racist to be like “that’s just how their culture is, oh those brutal and primitive nonwhites,” especially when it is specifically established in the series that the roots of Fire Nation culture from which the agni kai originated are NOT the war-mongering military-obsessed values that the FN embraced after Sozin.
Even if we took the agni kai between Zuko and Ozai at face value, there are a number of things about it that immediately make it an unfair fight. Zuko himself tells his father “how can you possibly justify a duel with a child,” and that it was cruel and wrong. Zuko was thirteen years old. And since Zuko specifically mentions his age when he tells Ozai it was wrong, I think we can say that we would not be remiss in imposing modern standards. There’s no evidence that ritualistic duels between children and adults would be considered normal. It may have been accepted because Ozai was the Fire Lord, but I’m sure there were plenty of people, even people who witnessed it, like Iroh, who thought fighting a child was despicable but maybe wouldn’t say anything to go against the Fire Lord. 
We do know that an Agni Kai carries spiritual and cultural significance, and we also know from “Winter Solstice” that not all of the Fire Sages, the religious authorities in the Fire Nation, were down with the way Sozin ran things. It is made explicit in the series that Ozai and his ancestors were responsible for creating a spiritual imbalance in the world, so I think it can also be assumed that what we see of the agni kai ritual in the series itself is a twisted version of what it was originally intended to be. The wiki says that before Sozin’s rule, agni kais were rarely fought to the death, but that changed after Sozin’s regime and the emphasis on mercy and compassion being seen as weakness.
In addition to the fact that Zuko was a child when he was challenged by Ozai, I think it also goes without saying that the fact that Ozai is Zuko’s father as well as the Fire Lord means that there is a huge power imbalance there. This isn’t a duel between equals. Let’s look at what the wiki says about the agni kai ritual:
Any firebender may participate in an Agni Kai. Fire Lords can also be challenged, but that rarely occurs, as most Fire Lords are among the most powerful firebenders in the world.
I hear you saying “but sokkastyles, it says any firebender can participate and surely that means that children can fight duels with adults!” To which I say, common sense is your friend, please get to know it.
What I wanted to draw your attention to, though, is the statement that Fire Lords are rarely challenged to agni kais because they are among the most powerful in the world. Makes sense, right? It’d be pretty stupid to challenge the most powerful firebender alive to a firebender duel, unless you were pretty sure of your abilities. That doesn’t prohibit the Fire Lord from challenging others or fighting in the place of someone else, but it does ensure a pretty unbalanced fight. Which brings me to the next point, which was that Zuko did not even know he was fighting the Fire Lord. I think a lot of people forget this but it’s a key detail in whether or not you can consider this to be a legally or culturally justifiable fight. Even if you consider Zuko able to fully consent as a thirteen year old to fighting against an adult, against the Fire Lord, against his father, Zuko very obviously cannot knowingly consent to fighting someone that he didn’t even know he was fighting until the last moment, when it was too late to back down.
I’ve also seen people say that Ozai only burned Zuko because Zuko refused to fight, but here’s the thing. Given what I just outlined, Zuko was put in a situation that he could not reasonably consent to, that he obviously could not win, and then is punished for backing down. This is not a mere cultural ritual. This is Ozai deliberately manipulating the situation so that no matter what Zuko did, he would get hurt. And I don’t for a minute believe that Zuko would be spared if he had chosen to fight. If Zuko had chosen to fight, he would most likely have been cast as disloyal, the kind of disloyal son who would attack his father, and quickly defeated, and Ozai probably would have branded him as a result of his dishonor just the same. As it is, Ozai exerts his will against an adolescent who is begging and crying on the ground in front of him.
The wiki also says that a challenge has to be accepted, and we don’t see Zuko accept the challenge in the flashback, but even if he did, he was accepting it without the full knowledge of who he would be fighting, which renders his ability to accept moot if we go by most people’s understanding of legal consent (and, again, children cannot legally consent in any case, but anyway). Once he does see who he is fighting, he immediately tries to back out of it, but by then it isn’t an option. If Zuko isn’t given an option to decline then he can’t actually meaningfully accept the challenge.
Here’s another interesting tidbit from the wiki:
The Agni Kai is an ancient Fire Nation tradition. Fire duels have been fought for hundreds of years. However, such a duel is a grave matter, meant to be a last resort when all else fails or is insufficient to settle a dispute.
Did Ozai fight his son to settle a dispute? Was it a last resort, after other means of peaceful resolution had failed? I’m not gonna debate about whether a teenager speaking out during an important meeting justifies a duel or if burning a child’s face is an acceptable form of corporeal punishment. I think even by the rules of hypermasculine fantasy violence this would be considered a disproportionate response. My purpose is to point out that even by the established rules of hypermasculine fantasy fire land, it still would be considered a gross abuse of the system. Even the people on Zuko’s crew, who are all Fire Nation military, are shocked to hear the story. Jee says he assumed that Zuko was in a training accident and is nicer and more sympathetic to Zuko after learning how Zuko was scarred. Which would not be the case if the narrative that Ozai spins about Zuko losing his honor and being disrespectful and thus deserving to be burned were universally culturally accepted as true. I think there were enough people who thought it was, the Zhaos who bought into the fascist regime and glorification of violence. And yes, learning that it wasn’t justified was part of Zuko unlearning all the fascist BS his nation had been indoctrinated with, but it’s also made clear that Ozai wasn’t just acting within the rules of his society and that Zuko had to unlearn a lot of psychological conditioning due to his father’s abuse, and that included the idea that he deserved to be hurt. Ozai uses fascist values to justify hurting Zuko but what lies behind it is Ozai’s desire to use his power to hurt his son, and abusive people will frequently find ways of justifying their actions, by whatever means.
It’s also funny that people who bend over backwards to justify Ozai attacking a crying, surrendering child (from any direction, legally, morally, culturally, I don’t care) are often the same people who claim that Zuko was somehow taking advantage of Azula by fighting her when she was unstable and would have tried to kill him and harm others regardless of whether he had accepted her challenge.
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Hello Raven! May I request a scenario Jamil, Ace, and Floyd calling Azul Zuzu just to be shits? ...... yeah you know who this is LANDJKSJFJS
For @pianostarinwonderland~ ;3c
Fun fact, I actually have a friend that gets “drunk” off of non-alcoholic apple cider. They were the inspiration for this piece, so shoutout to them!
Imagine this...
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“Cheers!”
Laughter bubbled up. Cups were raised and clinked together, the colorful liquids inside dancing about in the dim lights of the Mostro Lounge. The jellyfish lamps strung up above cast pinks and blues in purples into the fruit juice--juices of rich plums and cherry reds.
Ace polished his drink off in a few short swigs, then slammed his cup down with a satisfied “Phwaaah! That really hit the spot!”
He jerked his head toward a taller boy and called out to him. “Yo, Floyd-senpai! Thanks for bringing the Basketball Club here! I haven’t had stuff this tasty in a while.”
“Mmm? Kani-chan likes it?” The eel shared a sly smirk with their server--Azul--before slapping an encouraging hand on the small of Ace’s back. “Good, good~ Eat and drink lots more, then~”
“I am pleased to hear such a rave review,” Azul gestured to the pitcher in his hand. “Would you care for another refill?”
“Hit me.” Ace eagerly thrust his cup out to the octopus--but a hand caught his wrist and brought it back down. The Heartslabyul student cut a glare at his team mate. “Oi, what’s your problem?”
“You shouldn’t drink more,” Jamil warned, his voice steady, yet stern. “At this rate, you’re going to drain the club finances...”
And your dignity.
Jamil had attended enough Basketball Club gatherings to pick up on Ace’s behavior patterns. The first year was already brash as it was, but he became even more mouthy when he was high on happiness and a full stomach.
“Haaah? Butt out, Jamil-senpai. We won the game, so stop being a buzzkill and just let me celebrate how I want!”
“This is Azul we’re talking about. And you,” Jamil added, folding his arms and turning his attention to Floyd, “had a hand in this as well. You suggested the Mostro Lounge for our victory meal. I suppose you two thought this would be a good opportunity to line your pockets.”
“My, so you’ve already uncovered my nefarious scheme,” Azul gasped dramatically, clutching at his heart. “I should have expected nothing less from the great Jamil-sama.”
Scarabia’s vice dorm leader frowned. “Stop that.”
“Mouuuu, Umihebi-kun’s got us all figured out, Azul.” Floyd pouted, his cheeks puffed up like an inflated pufferfish.
“No matter,” his boss replied, quickly dismissing his remark. Azul plastered on his most polite smile before addressing Jamil again. “I must commend you for your quick wit. As an apology, please accept all drinks on the house tonight.”
The octopus generously topped off Ace’s glass, then moved to replenish Jamil’s--only to find the rim completely concealed by the vice dorm leader’s hand. Azul’s lip curled, but he made no move to challenge his classmate.
He agreed a little too easily. They must be up to something else, Jamil concluded, eyeing Azul warily.
“Phew!” Ace gasped, having hammered down another cupful of fruit punch. “Gimme ‘nother round...!”
His words were starting to slur, his eyelids fluttering. A dopey grin had etched itself onto Ace’s face. He was full--full, and loose-lipped.
If it’s not money they’re after, then it must be information.
Jamil’s eyes flashed as the revelation dawned on him. He abruptly stood, yanking Ace’s empty glass away from him.
“I think it is about time that we take our leave,” Jamil announced coldly.
“Noooo, my juice...!!” Ace whined loudly, glancing desperately between his three upperclassmen. “Zuzuuuuu, gimme moooore! I wanna drink moooore!! You can’t just cut me off like thiiiis!”
The entire lounge went dead quiet.
“Zu...”
“... zu?”
Floyd and Jamil exchanged confused looks with one another.
“I... I beg your pardon?!” Azul cried, taking a step back. His expression was twisted with both shock and horror, betraying his beauty. “Wh-What is the meaning of this?! S-Such a juvenile nickname...”
“Zuzu is Zuzuuuu,” Ace insisted, his declaration decorated with hiccups and giggles. “Cuz Zuzu’s cute, and the name Zuzu’s also cute...”
“Take it back right this instant!!”
“Naaaaaaah... Zuzu is Zuzu, and Zuzu’s cute... Das mah story, and I’m stickin’ wif it...”
“... Pfft. Ahahahahahah!” Floyd launched into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. His entire body shook as he violently howled, and he attempted to cradle his stomach to keep from keeling over. “K-Kani-chan got you good, Zuzu!”
“Whose side are you on here, Floyd?!”
“I-I’m on... I’m on--” The eel paused, gulping down a massive breath of air... before immediately bursting out in another peal of laughter. “I’m always on Zuzu’s side...!!”
“FLOYD!!”
“Ahahahahah!!”
“You are NOT helping!!” Azul spat, glaring at his dorm member.
He turned to Jamil, pulling his sweetest smile and most honied voice. “Dearest Jamil-san, seeing as how I cannot rely on Floyd, would you care to assist your peer in his time of need?”
“... I’ll pass,” Jamil replied coolly. A smirk found its way onto his lips. “Surely the great Zuzu-sama can resolve this situation on his own.”
The octopus’s face flared with embarrassment. “I cannot believe that you and Floyd would betray me like this!”
“Well, life is just full of surprises, isn’t it?”
“You...!!”
“Oi, Zuzuuuuu, how much longer do I gotta wait for my puuuunch?”
“Zuzu, don’t keep Kani-chan waiting~”
“Yes, you should dutifully tend to your customer’s demands, Zuzu.”
Azul’s gaze became steely, his mouth forming a straight line. “All of you, out--get out. The Mostro Lounge is closed for the evening!!”
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duskholland · 4 years
Text
The Fame Game (Prologue) | Tom Holland
Summary ↠ There’s just something about Tom Holland that makes your blood boil. He walks around like he owns the world, always with an unhelpful quip or irritating smirk on hand. You can’t stand him, and your feud has burned hard and bright for three years. Everything changes following an explosive evening at the Oscars, when a questionable encounter with the paparazzi lands you in some hot water with PR... fake dating au; enemies to lovers; actor!y/n.
Word count ↠ 4.6k
Warnings ↠ Alcohol, paparazzi, swearing, discussions of misogyny and the corruption of fame, Tom and Y/N are both very petty, dramatic assholes.
A/N ↠ Ahhh it’s here! I was really shocked by how many people responded to the announcement post for the series -- I hope so much that this doesn’t disappoint anyone lol. This series is my baby, and I’m very excited to share it with you all. Before we dive into the fake dating, we must first explore a very critical evening for Tom and Y/N... hahahah. This was a lot of fun to write. Please let me know if you’ve got any thoughts! :D 
(Tom’s in the FFH premiere outfit because I’m still in love with that fit, and the jury’s out for whether or not the actual Tom needs glasses to see; this version of him just uses them as a fashion statement lmao)
((The biggest thank you ever to V, mischiefandi, for being this series’ no.1 supporter and proofing this -- love you mate))
Series masterpost
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ZERO: The Oscars (Y)
The atmosphere at Vanity Fair’s Oscars after-party is electric.
The soft boom of the latest pop tunes seeps into the air, mixing with the warm lights and the sounds of clinking champagne flutes. The room holds Hollywood’s best, and it seems no matter which direction you tilt your head, your eyes find themselves settling over a familiar face. You’re walking amongst legends tonight, and as you throw back your third glass of champagne of the evening, you let a small smile unfurl across your lips. 
It isn’t your first time attending the Oscars, but it is the first time you haven’t felt utterly out of your depth surrounded by people of this calibre. When you’d first started in the acting industry, you’d found it incredibly unsettling to enter a room full of Oscar-winners. Even now you remember how your hands had felt slick with sweat as you’d nervously been introduced to Meryl Streep and Viola Davis, and how you’d felt imposter syndrome on a scale you’d never imagined possible. Time and experience have brought you many things, but most importantly, they have gifted you confidence. You’re 24 now, and the string of achievements and nominations tied to your belt is so impressive that they deem you no longer an outsider at the Oscars; instead, it’s as if you’ve been accepted into the fold. 
But for all the enjoyment of the lavish after-party, you can’t stop your mood from plummeting. It’s all fun and games until your eyes sweep the room and settle on a smirking figure standing in the corner: 
Tom Holland. 
Just the sight of him makes your nostrils flare. 
You think it must be true what they say: once you start to dislike someone, it’s as if every single thing they do irritates you. This is how you feel with Tom. Even the smallest, most insignificant details about him somehow manage to annoy you. You cannot stand the smell of his hair gel, and you detest the way he stubbornly refuses to mend his phone screen. Your teeth grit together every time you see that smug smirking grin hanging from his lips, and you get worked up by the way he always seems to swagger around as if he owns the room. The grievances fall into several categories: his aesthetic choices, his generally smug demeanour, and his irritating personality, and it all fosters your deep, unyielding disapproval of the man.
Tom infuriates you beyond belief - beyond words. And he’s standing across the room right now, staring at you over the rim of his wine glass with a teasing smirk hanging from his stupid lips. 
You try to ignore him at first. You lick your lips and return your attention to a conversation with some of your co-stars. You know better than to try and approach anyone else tonight. Your reputation, as your PR team likes to put it, is ‘fragile’ at the moment. A string of uncomplimentary ex-lovers and a few disgruntled directors have shattered your pristine public image, making you regarded as both a rising talent and loose cannon by the media. There’s been a common trend recently of news outlets dragging your name through the mud, and the desperate words of PR as they’d begged you not to cause a scene tonight drift through your mind as you contemplate wandering over to Tom. 
You know it isn’t in your best interests to engage with the man - no matter the occasion, your conversations always end explosively - but Tom is just standing there, staring at you persistently, and you just can’t help it.
Your tongue flicks out across your lower lip as you feel his hot gaze trailing around your made-up cheek. His eyes are intense - holding power over you, to the point where you have you excuse yourself from your conversation. An exasperated sigh slips past your lips as you turn around, preparing yourself for your encounter. Your stare finds him, and it follows Tom as he strides across the party towards you, one hand hanging easily from his trouser pocket as the other clasps an intricately engraved wine glass.
The frown on your lips deepens the nearer Tom gets, and as more details of his figure draw into focus. He’s got his chestnut waves slicked back tonight, with a few stray strands hanging out across his forehead. It makes him look dishevelled, but in a devilishly handsome sort of way - which makes sense, given you’re reasonably sure he must have some kind of relationship with Lucifer himself. Stretched across the wide expanse of his shoulders is a deep burgundy suit, and it cages him in tightly, leaving little to the imagination. Your lips curl into a poisonous grimace as your eyes finally fall on the glasses perched on his nose; you’re sure Tom doesn’t even need glasses, and it riles you up to see him parading the frames as a fashion statement. 
But perhaps the thing about his ensemble that annoys you the most is the fact that you can’t look away. No matter how hard you beg yourself, you can’t drag your gaze away from Tom’s swagger, or the tight hold he has on the stem of the glass, or the way his eyes dance with a dark, mischievous glint as he falls to a stop in front of you. Tom is many things to you, but it’s undeniable that you find him attractive, and that fact often keeps you seething well into the early hours of the morning. 
“Y/N,” Tom greets, his voice dripping charm. “Lovely to see you again.” His thin pink lips twist up into a smirk, and you find yourself clenching your fingers into fists around the tender stem of your champagne flute.
“Tom.” You step forwards, and your lips catch at his cheek as you press a firm, unwavering greeting to his face. You feel his warm hand slip from his pocket, and it grazes across your hip as Tom holds you closer. “You look to be enjoying yourself.”
When you pull back, you linger near him, allowing Tom to return the gesture by pressing his hot mouth to your cheek. He smells of rich, overpowering cologne, and you scrunch your nose up as his lips burn against your skin.
“It’s quite the party tonight,” he returns, stepping back. Tom’s beady little brown eyes run across your figure, taking in the long designer gown and the decadent sparkly necklace hanging from your neck. He graces you with an approving nod. “Are you having a nice time?”
“I was.” You pause to take a long sip of champagne, finding comfort in the way the bubbles pop against your tongue. You hope the alcohol will help to take the edge off the way your heart has started to pound against your ribs. “It’s a shame you had to come over here and ruin my mood.”
“Couldn’t help but notice you were staring at me, love,” he says, “Thought maybe you had something you’d like to say to me.”
You feel a hot spike of irritation as his lips curve effortlessly around the word love. Tom has always been a fan of pet names. The ease in which they roll from his tongue in that smooth, accented voice never fails to charm the room, and though you like to think you’re immune to his allure, you can feel the word spinning around your head like a broken record.
“Not really,” you return coolly, maintaining your composure with the poise and precision of a seasoned actress. You even manage to flash him an apologetic smile. “No big award for you tonight, though? Must be heartbreaking.”
Tom rolls his eyes. “Are you really still caught up on the BAFTA?” He asks, his voice lower and harder. 
The mood between you dips, and instinctively you find yourself moving away into a quieter corner of the room. As you drift away from the hordes of celebrities guzzling champagne, it’s as if the facade between you breaks down. Your smirk becomes harder, your eyes less forgiving - and in return, Tom’s smile sours into a grimace, and he holds himself straighter. The masks you wear come off, leaving you both bare and exposed. 
“No,” you respond darkly. You’re tucked away in the corner of the party, with your back almost against the wall as Tom lingers in front of you. Both of you have discarded your drinks glasses. “I couldn’t care less that you won the BAFTA, Tom. If the jury decided you were worthy, then you were worthy. I would have to be very unreasonable to disagree with the committee.”
“I don’t believe that for a second, Y/N.” Tom tilts his head to the side, flashing the tips of his shiny white teeth as his mouth loosens into a wild smile. 
“Fine.” You give him an excessive sigh, and you let your eyes drift towards his mouth. “I don’t buy it, Tom.”
Tom’s suit jacket breaks out into wrinkles as he crosses his arms across his chest. “You don’t buy what?”
“This act.”
Tom almost rolls his eyes again. “And which act are you referring to, Y/N?”
“The Mr Nice Guy Act, Thomas.” The way he flexes his jaw makes you lean nearer and smirk. “Everyone here thinks you’re such a wonderful man, but I see right through it.”
It’s hard to know precisely when your feelings towards Tom became so hostile, but you like to pinpoint the night of the BAFTAs in 2017 as the day you surpassed the point of no return. You were younger then - both of you - and things quickly got out of hand. You know Tom likes to pinpoint your ‘jealousy’ following his win and your snub at the awards show as the catalyst for your tumultuous relationship, but both of you know that night was the product of several cumulative events.
Your best friend had worked with Tom’s mate Harrison, all those years ago in 2016. You knew Harrison through her, and you got on well enough with him, so when the BAFTA academy had nominated both you and Tom as contenders for Rising Star, Harrison had orchestrated an exchange of phone numbers. However, given your packed schedule and press engagements, you had failed to respond to all of Tom’s attempts to contact you. 
One thing led to another. Tom assumed you were dodging his texts and started bad-mouthing you to Harrison. Word travelled to you that this guy - the competition - was throwing shade to your name, and so you might have made a few choice remarks about him on Ellen and suggested that Tobey Maguire was the best Spider-Man. Whatever. It was all so petty and childish, and it’d escalated to boiling point on the night of the BAFTAs when Tom hadn’t been able to shut up and thrust his win right into your face - quite literally. You can still remember the way he’d clutched the trophy as he’d shown it off in all its grandeur.
Ever since then, your relationship has been poisonous. A case of miscommunication and petty jealousy turned hostile, and now you’re in far too deep to even think about mending the fractured dynamic. 
“I am a nice guy,” Tom tells you. His eyes skim across your face, and you don’t miss the way they drag across the curve of your lower lip.
“As if.” You ponder which anecdote you should fall back on to prove your point, and it takes a while to select one: the pool of Tom’s past mistakes and moves against you is vast and wide. “Would a nice guy conveniently forget to invite me to Harrison’s birthday party?”
Tom winces, and something almost like regret flickers out across his face before he meets your eyes and hardens up his gaze. “I’ve already told you that was a case of miscommunication,” he says slowly, patronising. “I doubt you would have enjoyed it anyway, Y/N. Wasn’t exactly your type of party.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Your hand finds your waist, gripping firmly at your flesh to stop your fingers from shaking. The way Tom looks at you so intensely makes you feel strung-out and bare, and it’s almost as if he can see straight through you.
“It was a small, intimate gathering. From what I’ve been hearing, you’re a fan of the larger, more explosive parties, aren’t you?”
You could throttle him. You could really, truly throttle him. You know with certainty that Tom’s referring to the latest smear the media had run against you, which had placed you at an illegal rave in Downtown LA and cost you a role in a film you were passionate about. 
“You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the tabloids, Tom.” 
“Maybe not.” Tom’s closer to you now. You find your back brushing up against the wall as he steps nearer yet again, his shiny leather shoes sparkling beneath the light curving out from the chandeliers. “I’d like to think I know you quite well, though, Y/N. We have known each other for several years.”
“I’d use the word ‘known’ very loosely if I were you. I think it’s more like, ‘been plagued by’, but you do you, Tom.” 
He laughs, and this time the noise is lighter. You feel a little woozy from the champagne - or maybe it’s his cologne - and you let your hand wander up to rest on the top of Tom’s suit. You drag your fingers across the smooth material, marvelling at how soft the designer garb is to touch.
“Do you like my suit?” Tom asks, his voice lower than before. There’s a strange charge to the air between you, and you find yourself nodding.
“I disagree with the glasses, but your suit is decent. I have to admit that this colour looks flattering on you.” The bold burgundy tones bring out the warmth in his eyes, even if the stupid thin frames of his glasses obscure them. You watch as his pupils widen and feel the warmth of Tom’s breath as he inches in closer. 
“Thanks,” he says. Tom’s hand winds around your waist. “Your dress is very nice.”
You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling dry. You briefly wish that you had another glass of champagne to keep you occupied because you find your other hand joining the first and finding purchase on Tom’s shoulder. He’s very close to you, and there’s nowhere left to move because you’d backed up against the wall. Fleetingly you wonder what it must look like, to be hidden away at the back of the party and caged in like this, but you decide that the flurry of heated emotions passing through his eyes and the way his thumb pads over your waist is worth it.
Neither of you says a word, but you watch through wide eyes as Tom’s gaze flickers out across your lower lip. He inches in closer, almost painfully slowly, his demeanour radiating a shaky confidence as he tilts the angle of his head. You watch the hard lines of his mouth dissolve, and his smirk melts away into something like a smile as his eyes flutter shut. Now Tom is very close - so, so close - and the gap between your mouths narrows by the second.
He’s going to kiss you. You know he’s going to kiss you. Why is he going to kiss you? Why are you going to let him kiss you-
“Y/N! Hey, congrats on the film. I saw it last week with my wife, and she loved it-”
Tom springs back. You gasp a short breath of air as your eyes widen, and the film of scattered emotions that had temporarily disarmed you shatters. Tom’s cheeks are bright red, and he doesn’t seem to know where to look or what to do as he jams his hands into his trouser pockets and stares at the floor.
“-Oh, sorry, was I interrupting something?”
Your throat tickles as you shake your head, looking up to see Mark Ruffalo standing there, his expression relaxed but growing in confusion as he drinks in the awkward tension rippling between you and Tom.
“No,” you say immediately, a bite to your voice. You refuse to look at Tom. “You weren’t interrupting anything.”
Mark releases a breath of relief and launches back into his speech, complimenting you profusely on your performance. You become distracted as you listen to him, but not enough to forget about the way Tom had leaned closer and brushed his thumb across your side almost gently. After a few moments of conversation, you can’t stop yourself from glancing over towards Tom, only to notice that he’s slunk away elsewhere. His absence makes your heart twist.
Another hour slips away, and you find yourself returning to the Moët for release. You can feel your composure gliding away from you with each fateful sip. Tom seems to have vanished, and you find yourself questioning if he’s so embarrassed by your moment in the corner that he had to leave. You wonder if that would be better than him staying.
But eventually, your eyes seek him out, as they always seem to do. And you catch him chatting with a woman, his arm around her shoulders and his lips brushed against her ear. Tom seems to feel your gaze on him, and his deep brown eyes meet with yours. He raises his eyebrows and whispers something into the woman’s ear that makes her laugh, and it sends something whipping down your spine.
It isn’t just jealousy - it goes deeper than that. It’s the realisation that you could never get away with this behaviour. You know that if the roles were reversed and it was you who had been seen getting close to two men in one night, you would be assigned a whole host of derogatory names. The double standards that exist in this artificial world of cameras and headlines make you feel sick to your stomach. You are not jealous of the woman beneath Tom’s arm, though you will admit it makes you feel uneasy - it’s the hypocrisy of it all that makes you seethe. 
“Excuse me,” you mutter to no one in particular. Tom’s eyes slip away from yours as you put down your empty glass and turn, heading in the direction of an exit. You wander the vast, glittering ballroom for a few moments before spying a door embedded in the back wall that leads out into a dark alleyway.
When you step out onto the street, the cold February air seems to bring your tipsiness to the forefront of your mind. You giggle softly to yourself and wrap your arms around your chest, your fingers rubbing rapid fiery circles across your exposed flesh as you try to drum up a heat.
You lean back against the wall and stare up at the vacant sky. LA is too polluted to see the stars, but you like to imagine they’re staring down back at you. In the distance, you can hear the sounds of laughter coming out from the hall, and out at the end of the alley you can see the street, cloaked in dark paparazzi vans and dim amber street-lamps, but tucked away up here alone, you feel at peace. 
“Cinderella runs away from the ball, yet again.”
You scowl. Your eyes move away from the dark blanket of clouds to see Tom. He’s ditched the glasses, but you can see the legs sticking out from the pocket sewn to the top of his suit.
“Joined by her ugly pumpkin.” You screw up your nose at your own words, cursing your fizzled mind for messing up the tale. “That’s not right, is it?”
Tom approaches you, his cheeks full of a rosy tipsiness. “Dunno,” he murmurs. “Think I like it better than being called your ugly sister, though.”
“Ew.”
You share a loud, unruly laugh with Tom, your voices mixing almost melodically. When you sigh, you lean further against the wall. 
“I hate it in there,” you find yourself admitting. “So many people were talking about me behind my back. It’s like they think I can’t tell that they’ve just been discussing me when I walk over and the conversation falls silent.” You slot your fingers together and play around with your thumbs. “Everything is so fake. It’s like a game to them.”
A cool breeze floats down the alley, and you find yourself shivering.
“It is a game,” Tom says slowly, all whilst slipping off his suit jacket. He holds it out to you, raising an eyebrow when you shake your head. “It’s cold, Y/N. I know you’re stubborn, but neither of us wants you to freeze out here.”
The mood between you feels tender, and you let yourself accept his warm jacket. You throw it across your shoulders and feel the warm embrace of his suit, and the husky traces of cologne nestled to the fabric, but Tom’s looking at you with an intense gaze, and the sight of his golden browns draws you back to the scenes from inside the party. 
“Saw you chatting with a woman inside,” you say, words a little sharper. “Trying to see how many times you have to try it on before someone bites?”
Tom flinches. The air fills with the sound of him clicking his tongue as he rubs his hands together. “You are so fucking petty, Y/N.”
You raise an eyebrow, responding to his clipped voice with surprise. “Hit a nerve, have I?”
He groans softly. “Sorry,” he mutters, “I shouldn’t swear at you. You just get under my bloody skin.”
You shrug. “You’ve said worse.”
“So have you.”
“Only because you deserve it.”
Tom’s bearing in on you again, but this time you feel more at ease. The scent of his cologne mixes with the sweet champagne that lays fresh across your palette, and it makes you feel delirious. You can’t stop yourself from reaching up and draping your hands across his shoulders, bringing him nearer.
“You drive me crazy,” Tom admits. His voice is husky, his eyes dark and intense. In the slight breeze, strands of his hair waft across his forehead.
“I can’t stand you,” you return. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as his hands dig into your waist. The rough render on the building behind you digs into your back as you loop your arms around Tom’s neck and bring him in closer.
“Neither can I, darling.”
It’s like magnetism - some sort of invisible force pulling you in before you can even fathom it. One moment you’re staring at Tom, scepticism in your eyes and anxiety thick in your chest, the next he’s surged forwards and captured your lips in a messy, sensational kiss. You gasp into his mouth, and your fingers tighten against the short hair at the nape of his neck as you kiss him back harshly. Your noses bump and your teeth collide as Tom grabs at your sides with fervour, and having him clutching at you is so hot that it takes your breath away. The kiss is messy and hurried, and it seems to melt down all the built-up tension and frustration you’ve been nurturing for years. It makes your head hurt, and all you can focus on is how crazy it is that you are kissing Tom Holland - and, horrifyingly, how much you don’t seem to hate it. 
It comes crashing down when there’s a round of flashes, and you hear the telltale sound of paparazzi photographs.
“Shit!” You push Tom away from you immediately, your breath hitching as your head snaps down to the end of the alley. Unbeknownst to either of you, you’ve been spotted by the men with those large, invasive lenses. The flashes continue, and you turn away, your actions almost in slow motion as you feel a wave of nausea travel across your chest.
“Y/N!”
“Tom, Tom!”
“Are you dating?”
“Having a bit of fun tonight, Y/N?”
A chorus of cataclysmic yells come racing down the alley and the howls of the paparazzi mix with the loud sound of camera shutters.
“Fuck.” Tom grabs your arm, and he pulls you away from them, bringing you both back into the party. There’s a tightness in your chest as you gasp for breath, walking in dizzying strides as you card your fingers through your hair anxiously. 
“No, no, no,” you mutter to yourself. You can hear the calls of the paparazzi ringing in your ears, and you dig your fingers into your temples for relief as you snap your head to glare at Tom. “Why did you just kiss me? What’s wrong with you?”
Tom looks pale, and his eyes are round with shock, but he still manages to stare at you incredulously. “You kissed me too?”
You bury your head in your hands. “This is it - this is the last straw. They’re going to have a field day with this.” You peek out at Tom through gaps in your fingers, laughing humourlessly. Your chest burns as you take in his disarmed expression and his deep chocolate eyes. “This is the end.”
“It… It was just one kiss.”
You shake your head furiously. “They’ll run with it. They’ll make a spectacle of us.” Your nails dig into the soft palms of your hands. “You are such an asshole.”
Tom’s mouth, a little red and puffy, twists into something of a snarl. “You kissed me! Why is this my fault?”
“It’s always your fault.” You pause and shake your head. You can’t help but fall back on the naive thought that this truly is all Tom’s fault. You’d been fine before him. You’d been looking into the starless sky. You’d been at peace. He’d just had to waltz on out and trick you into his lips. “Well, I hope you enjoy the end of your career.”
He raises a thin eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”
“You’ve been associated with me, which is the equivalent of getting a big black line scored right across your name.” You reach up and jerk his jacket from your shoulders, and roughly shove it back into Tom’s hands.
“I think you’re overreacting.”
“Really?” Your gaze hardens. “This is all just a game, Tom, don’t you see? We don’t get to decide who stays on top.” You laugh humourlessly, your tongue tasting sourly of champagne. “We have fucked up.”
Tom sets his jaw. One by one, he stuffs his arms through his suit jacket and tugs it back around his body, sinking into it forcibly. He pulls his glasses from the pocket and places them back on the bridge of his nose, balancing them crookedly.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Tom remarks, his voice cold and sharp. You briefly wonder if he understands the magnitude of the situation, and as he sweeps away without so much as a kiss on the cheek goodbye, you realise he probably does.
Without yet wholly understanding it, one drunken kiss has sealed your fate. As you stand there, twiddling with your thumbs in the back corner of the Vanity Fair party, your mind races. You know with absolute certainty that things will never be the same again, but not even your wildest dreams could compare to what is about to come.
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buckle up bc I’m about to take us on a ride and a half. may as well have ended this with an ellipsis lmao.
↠  next part
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any thoughts?! I am actually dying to know what you’re thinking lmao!! my askbox is open :D
taglist can be found in the series masterpost, which is the pinned post at the top of my blog
masterlist linked in my description 
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Text
I Messed Up, Didn’t I? (Dream)
MASTERLIST
PART ONE!
pairing : dreamwastaken x singer!reader
summary :  after the breakup, he sees that you’re growing as a singer, while he’s suffering alone, but you don’t think that about him, seeing he’s growing on youtube. (PART TWO)
a/n : aaannnddd here’s the final part! 
a full year passes. 
you thought the pain in your chest would leave after a while. but maybe it doesn’t work that way since clay and you were together for a couple years. 
you were kept busy with the voice each week, every weekday, you were told to keep working on a new album. 
but whenever you had time alone in your house, you couldn’t help but think about it all. 
the cuddles on his gaming chair whenever you felt lonely at times while he played his games. 
or when you’d care for him whenever he would get sick since he would act like a baby. 
or that time when you both went to get fast food at 4am in the morning because you craved something that would be bad for you. 
or the little banters or debates you two would have about politics. 
or when he’d dive on the bed on top of you when he was in need of cuddles. 
it all comes back to the reason you broke up. 
you didn’t blame him. you didn’t blame yourself. 
you didn’t know who to blame. you couldn’t blame the internet since you got your job from it too. 
you were glad that you found a job that was your hobby. whenever you were mad or sad, you’d write it down, and send it to your team, and suddenly, it would become a song. 
you are glad that you have such supportive team and found yourself amazing friends. 
speaking of friends, you bought tickets for your two bestfriends to come see you and live with you for a while. 
you told them that you needed the companion and that your house has too many empty guest bedrooms that are waiting for people to sleep in. 
they accepted the invite and offered to buy their own tickets since you were already giving them a place to stay, but you told them you had already bought them tickets and that they didn’t have to worry about it. 
you knew they could afford it, they were just too humble to say it to their fans, but you knew better. 
hours before you had to pick them up from the airport, you made sure their rooms were fully ready. you picked the bedrooms most closest to yours because why not right? 
what those two didn’t know was that you had bought full gaming sets for them, monitors, keyboards, a pretty nice gaming chair. it was a pretty nice gaming set up, if you say so yourself. 
you bought them because you knew that those two cannot live a day without playing games or streaming. 
at first, they were hesitant on coming since you told them to stay for a couple months. they both knew they had to stream and post on their channels. it’s their jobs, after all. 
but you assured them that you’d find a way and to not worry about anything, and just worry about getting on that plane on time. 
you saw the time, took a photo of the gaming set up as you took a photo of sapnap’s earlier and walked out of george’s room, grabbing your car keys and leaving for the airport. 
you parked your car in the airport carpark and quickly went to the arrival hall to find those two crackheads. 
you were almost jumping at how excited you were. you couldn’t believe that this was going to be your first time meeting them ever. 
you waited at the side, making sure you still had a view of the automatic sliding doors of the arrival hall. 
you heard someone calling your name from behind you. as you turn your head, you saw a masked man holding a camera that was pointed at you. 
paparazzi’s can be annoying at times but you actually knew this guy pretty well and he is definitely not annoying. 
“what are you doing here?” the man asked you. 
“what do i look like i’m doing in front of the arrival hall, hm?” you sassed him a little, laughing towards the end of your sentence. 
“okay, who are you waiting for then?” he asked again.
your phone pinged a notification from the groupchat of you, george and sapnap. 
“just wait and see, they’ll come soon.” you told him, winking at the camera. 
you saw the two walk out of the automatic doors and you jumped slightly on your feet, waiting for them to come closer before you could give them the biggest hug. 
it didn’t take them long to spot you. you attracted a lot of attention, with the man with a very large camera next to you. 
as they came closer with their noticeably large luggage, you couldn’t wait anymore, running towards them to give them a bear hug. 
as you crashed into the two, they fell slightly back from the impact. 
you could hear the loud camera shutters as you hug two of your bestfriends. 
you three hugged for a while more before you moved off to answer some questions from the line of paparazzi’s.
you felt bad for attracting the crowd. people must be so confused on what’s happening. 
you three answered some questions, until you couldn’t wait anymore, you were excited to show them their room. the anticipation was killing you. 
“sorry, i think we need to go. i can’t wait to show them their rooms.” you told the line of paparazzi’s in front of you. 
a string of questions came out, asking what rooms and where and why was i so excited. 
“you’ll see soon, stay tuned on our social medias!” you told them before pulling your two bestfriends’ hands to walk out the airport to your car. 
they said their goodbyes and walked by you to your car, confused on why you had been so excited. 
george sat at the front with you, sapnap at the backseat. 
“dude, you own such a cool car.” sapnap said, admiring the details of your car. 
“close the door and you’ll see something cooler.” you told him. 
to which he closed his side of the door and waited. he looked up onto the car roof to see that there are stars on them. they light up as the car doors were closing. 
“holy shit damn.” george said, looking up as well. 
as you drove back home, you three caught up with each other’s lives. 
you found out that they still had been anxious about not posting anything for a couple months, but they’re happy to see you and stay with you. you smiled to yourself knowing how happy they’d be later. 
“i just can’t wait to see your house, honestly.” george said, from beside you. 
sapnap let out a big laugh, you and george soon following after. 
you parked in front of your house’ front door while the two stared in awe that their bestfriend lives in such a house. they’d often forget that they’re friends with such a rich singer. they only saw you as their friend, not someone famous. 
you laughed at the two, before exiting your car, to get their luggage from the back of the car. 
while they were still looking at your house, you took their bags out one by one, carrying some into the house. 
“you wanna come in or not?” you asked the two. 
they snapped out of their trance, taking their bags before following you to inside the house. 
“what the fuck.” “holy shit this is amazing.” were what the two said when they walked in. 
“so since we’re here, let’s put your bags into your rooms before we go get food. you guys can go shower too if you want, there are bathrooms in your rooms.” you told them, excited to see their reactions of the rooms. 
“there are bathrooms in our bedrooms? dude game over i’m moving in.” sapnap told you, still in awe of the house. 
you lead them to one of their room, telling them which room was which behind closed doors, not opening the door yet. you told them that your room was between theirs and if they needed anything, to ask you. 
you stopped at sapnap’s room, on the left of your room, and told them to wait. 
“before i open this door, i just wanted to say that i appreciate you guys dropping everything to come here. so here’s a little something for you two, i definitely didn’t forget about your jobs.” you explained to the two before opening the door. 
as you opened it slowly, you saw that they were confused. they still had no clue. good. 
sapnap’s gaming setup lit up as you opened the door, making the room look like a tiktok room. 
“holy- no way. you didn’t” sapnap said, turning to you, still in shock. 
“uh yeah i did, and there’s one of george in his room too.” you told them. 
“WHAT? no you didn’t.” george screamed in your ear. 
“go look in your room. i’m not lying.” you told him. 
he runs to open his room door, leaving his bags in front of sapnap’s room. sapnap and you followed to see his room. 
as george opened his door, his room too, lit up, just like sapnap’s.
“NO FREAKING WAY.” george jumped at his position in his room, staring at his set up in awe. 
“i had to, you guys dropped everything to be here. you still need to make videos. tell me what’s missing and it’ll come tomorrow.” you told the two boys, who were still in shock. 
“WHAT’S MISSING?, this is more than enough, thank you!” the two said in unison before running to you to give you the biggest hug. 
-
after that whole fiasco, the two boys got right into work with setting it up. you left them for the moment as you went to the kitchen to get dinner going. 
you thought since they just reached california after a long flight, they might not have the energy to drive all the way out to get dinner, so you just settled with making them dinner. 
while waiting for your pasta to cook and chicken to fry, you went on your phone. 
you weren’t surprise to see people shocked to see that sapnap and george flew to meet you. your feed was filled with photos and videos of your interactions in the airport. 
you smiled seeing the cute photos, screenshotting a few to post on your own instagram. 
you remembered the gaming setup photos that you took. you opened instagram to post them o your instagram story, along with videos of their reactions of seeing them. only in a matter of seconds, your tagged photos sky rocketed. 
now they knew that the two boys would definitely stay for longer. 
-
dream knew what was going on. he was tagged in a lot of the photos. your fans thought he was there too, for some reason. some knew dream wasn’t there but asked why he wasn’t there. 
dream was happy to see that his friends are happy with you. they might as well move in with you. 
dream knows that you hated staying at home alone. maybe that’s why you called the two over to stay with you. 
with the gaming setups, dream knew the two boys would stay for a while. he felt a pang in his chest. 
he wanted to meet you. he wanted to make things right again. not because he saw you happy without him, not because he saw how successful you have become, not because he saw how happy you were with his friends but not him, but because he felt alone without you. he needed you. 
-
you could hear george and sapnap screaming. you smiled, knowing that they were probably streaming or recording something, along with dream since you heard them scream “dream” a ton of times. 
they had to eat lunch so you brought it upstairs to their room, knowing they won’t end their gaming anytime soon.
you knocked on sapnap’s door first. seeing as he’s not using his facecam, you walked in and put his plate of food next to his keyboard, along with a bottle of his favourite drink. 
he thanked you as he told his chat what was going on. you ruffled his hair as you walk out his room, to george’s.
you didn’t bother knocking his door since you knew he was too deaf to hear it anyways. you slowly opened the door, not wanting to interrupt his stream and nicks.
he notices you coming in. “hi! come here!” he told you. 
you smiled at him, walking towards his desk, with the plate of food and bottled drink in your hands. 
“i just came to gave you lunch cause i know you too well.” you told him, almost sarcastically. 
“awh, oh my god thank you, this looks so good.” he thanked you just like nick did. 
“my chat wants to say hi.” he tells you. 
knowing he has his facecam turned on, you walked to him to stand behind his chair to wave at the camera. 
“so this is my favourite person in the world.” george said to his chat, pointing to you. 
you blushed and put your hand up to cover your mouth at how cute that was. roll in the ship comments. 
“i’m leaving you with the ship comments, gogy.” you told him as you walked to the door. 
-
a couple more weeks go by, and the two idiots are still living with you. they actually are thinking about staying here for good. to which they asked you if that’s okay. 
obviously you would let them stay here for good, you loved the company. 
they were your distraction to everything going on. the heartbreak, the hurt that never left your chest. they were all still there and you didn’t know how to get rid of them. but for now, your two bestfriends were there for you. 
lately you have been getting flower and chocolate arrangements to your doorstep. at first you thought it might be the boys trying to do something nice but they had told you that they wouldn’t have even thought about being that romantic. 
you laughed it off and set it aside. the flowers did look good in your living room, after all. unless it was from a stalker fan, you didn’t mind it. you found it a little romantic. 
-
george and sapnap knew exactly what they were doing. the moment they found out your address, they sent it to dream. they knew clay deserved everything that has happened to him. but at the end of the day, he is still their friend, and they can’t abandon him. 
everyday of the week. flowers arrangements came. you asked george multiple times if he knew what was going on. 
he was the only recent person you remember telling your obsession of flower arrangements to. 
at first, he told you he didn’t have a clue, and soon enough, he cracked. he told you he knew, but it was your task to find out who. 
the first couple days of knowing that, you tried brushing it off, making yourself busy with music or cooking for the two boys. but soon enough, you couldn’t run away from it anymore. you were curious. 
a full month after your first flower arrangement came to your doorstep, you heard a knock on your door. since you thought maybe you had a package, you didn’t think much of it. 
you were surprised to see the person in front of your front door. 
dream. 
it was your ex boyfriend. 
what was he doing here? you haven’t seen him in so long, that seeing him felt weird. he was on the internet but his face wasn’t plastered on his profiles. 
“what are-” your question was cut off by him. 
“just please listen to me first. i swear i will give you all the time in the world to talk later but please, for now, just listen to me.” 
your actions stopped. it was as if your brain stopped functioning. 
you hesitantly nodded to him, signaling him to continue. 
“i’ve waited so long for this. i’ve stayed in that house we first shared alone while you moved here, to pursue your passion. i saw you all over the billboards, all over my phone, my computer, even the flyers outside my house had your face on it.” you laughed at the end. 
“but i chose not to do anything just yet, i wanted to see you happy, happy with your career, even if it meant me not being by your side to support you. i am incredibly proud to see that you’ve grown into such an amazing and successful woman.” you goes again. 
“but i don’t think i can wait any longer. everyone thinks i’ve been happy with my own life, but how can i be happy, when i still live with the guilt of taking advantage of your kindness, taking you for granted. how can i live happily with the guilt of letting you go that day?” he continues again. you try to keep your face emotionless, trying not to cry. 
“i know it feels so sudden, me coming here. but i can’t live anymore not having you anymore. please, take me back?” he finishes, tears going down him cheeks. 
you started to tear up, almost sobbing.
“why did it have to take this long, stupid?” you whined, running to hug him. 
he moved back slightly from the impact, not expecting you to talk to him, yet touch him . 
you two heard your two bestfriends come down the stairs, laughing and faking their vomits from behind your backs. 
“i fucking knew it. you two are so sneaky.” you rolled your eyes. 
-
time flies by fast. a whole year has passed. one whole year since dream knocked on your door. one whole year since he has moved in with you and the other two boys. 
yes, living with three boys can be super chaotic, but you liked it. you absolutely love the joy it brings you, even if they often steal your snacks from the pantry.
oh yeah, you had to get a full gaming set up for dream too, for making him jealous with george. 
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abiggaynerd · 3 years
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What made me ship maxwil. Sorry this is really just a jumbled mess JKNKJN but hope u enjoy reading it anyway. Under a cut because its too fucking long
Wilson and Maxwell are don’t starve’s main characters. They show up in the original game’s intro movie together. 
Maxwell speaks to Wilson on the radio, offers him a deal, and Wilson takes it. 
Now, think about that- Wilson, with no hesitation, takes a stranger’s dubious offer from a radio that is NOT supposed to be two-ways. He ruins his life without even thinking about it. 
This shows us how DESPERATE Wilson is for human contact. 
Wilson lives alone in a house, far away from his family who hates him, and not a single friend. Some might say Wilson doesn’t like people. But what i see is a person who ADORES people, being forced to be apart from them (exactly like maxwell) because no one will take him seriously. Wilson is working this hard because he is convinced if he just makes one good invention, has one big break, then people will finally respect and like him. It’s not just that he wants knowledge for knowledge’s sake.
He has someone offering him exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the offer, it’s the fact someone is talking to him. Wilson wants someone to listen to him, and believe in him, and that is JUST as important as the knowledge, if not more so. Maxwell has complete faith in Wilson’s ability to make this portal. Wilson trusts maxwell more than anyone else, simply because he’s gotten the smallest bit of positive attention. 
That makes his betrayal absolutely crushing for Wilson. Wilson is the only person who explicitly says he hates maxwell in the first game. He feels betrayed much more personally than maxwell intended, he’s furious, and he finds out maxwell didn’t actually believe in him the way he thought. Wilson is forced once again to completely rely on himself. Wilson likes himself and believes in himself a lot, but he sort of has to. No one else will. And that’s a hard thing to deal with.
Wilson goes through the worlds, because he wants out, obviously. He is the only one to canonly reach the end of adventure mode. Wickerbottom may think he’s an idiot, but he’s the one who made it to the end of the line, not her. 
Wilson is likely expecting a boss fight here, or something, but what he gets is a sad, frail old man who is suicidal and has nothing. Maxwell has completely given up. When you free max, it says “take pity?” Wilson does. Wilson KNOWS this will end badly for him. Wilson KNOWS he’s not going to get anything in return. But Wilson frees him, because Wilson is unequivocally GOOD. Wilson cares about people, deeply, and would do anything for them. Wilson does not like to see people suffer, and Wilson will take on the pain for himself if he can. Maxwell has hurt him more than anyone, but Wilson still takes his place. 
Now if we look at this from Maxwell’s perspective: Wilson is just another person to trick into coming here. Maxwell is putting on a show, using all his charisma, doing what They brought him here for. It’s the same as everyone else. 
Something interesting about adventure mode is that maxwell does NOT want you to continue. He does his absolute best to keep you from getting to the end. Scaring you, killing you, bribing you. You think it’s cruelty or fear of you at first glance, but really: maxwell does NOT want you to suffer the way he does. 
Maxwell brings you here, puts you in a terrible world, but in his mind, NOTHING is worse than the throne. Look at him on the throne and look at him as a survivor- on the throne he has nothing but despair and the desire to die. As a survivor, he’s extremely peppy in comparison. The throne has ruined maxwell, and even though he’s past the point of caring if you come to the constant, he does NOT want to be the reason someone else is on the throne. 
But is the door itself a cry for help? Was that a subconscious thing maxwell did? Charlie doesn’t have an adventure mode. She seems quite happy on the throne. Or is it because the Them are tired of maxwell? Compare Charlie’s world to Maxwell’s: considerably harder. Charlie’s world may allow you to revive yourself, but Maxwell’s is objectively easier. Less bosses, less danger, more resources. Maxwell also tries to give you a world you can have everything you need in in adventure mode, which is THE BEST he can do for you- something probably only allowed because the Them know the survivors won’t take his offer. 
When you get to the throne, despite being in absolute mental agony, maxwell cannot make himself trick you into freeing him. Which he COULD. He could pretend the key will let you out, he could pretend it’s something he REALLLY doesn’t want you to do because oooooo its gonna free youuuu and send you to earthhhh. But he cannot allow himself to do that, because this is the last bit of kindness and humanity he has- giving you the knowledge that the throne is the worst fate possible here. He clearly doesn’t think you are going to do it until you do- he’s shocked and thrilled when he stands up. 
Wilson frees him, knowing everything, after everything, and that SHOCKS him. Maxwell considers Wilson his savior. He owes everything to him. 
They don’t see each other again until cyclum. Wilson attacks maxwell, and while some people may think it’s because he’s angry, i think it’s because he SAW maxwell die and assume it’s either an insanity hallucination come to kill him or a new monster come to trick him. When max doesn’t attack when Wilson stops, he stops. 
Now, there are a lot of things Wilson could do. He could leave, he could kill him, he could ignore him. But Wilson feeds him. Maxwell is TOTALLY FINE. Max can get food himself. And food is a valuable resource. Wilson chooses to feed maxwell, because Wilson is good. They camp together, another thing Wilson doesn’t have to do. Wilson then decides to WORK WITH MAXWELL ON A PORTAL. AGAIN. Wilson makes the ACTIVE CHOICE to trust maxwell, with NO REASON TO. 
Now, we don’t know exactly what happens when the other survivors get there, but it stands to reason Wilson protects and defends max against the other survivors. Even though the portal failed AGAIN, and its possible max was fucking with him AGAIN. Wilson CHOSES to trust Max, even with evidence that could imply otherwise. 
If we look at the quotes, Wilson banters with max a lot, and can be annoyed with him. But when max is dead, Wilson explicitly reassures him he’s already working on reviving him. 
Maxwell, like Wilson, thrives on attention. He needs it, even if its negative. It’s easier for him to be someone to hate than just a sad man to pity. His persona- where he misses the throne and being king, is a lazy asshole, and hates everyone- is just that, a persona. Max is an actor, after all. He and wigfrid have this in common: he cannot handle being HIMSELF because being himself is terrifying. He doesn’t have anything as himself. He’s nothing as himself. I don’t think mentally he would be able to handle it! And Wilson knows this.
Maxwell also, when Wilson dies, asks if he really wants to come back. I think this is the only way he can think of to try to make up for bringing him here. It’s not much, but Wilson wouldn’t feel pain any more. Of course Wilson wouldn’t accept that, but maxwell offers because it’s the only thing he can think of.
Wilson is someone maxwell is nervous and shy around, when greeting. He’s the only one max shows explicit affection for. Like i said before, max sees Wilson as an angel, as his savior, but maxwell cannot handle it. It’s easier for him to be a huge asshole. But Wilson does not let him drive him away. 
I think the banter is something Wilson enjoys! Wilson is a sarcastic person, and he and max are intellectually equals. I think max is someone he really enjoys spending time with, as well as someone he would do anything for.
Now if we look at one of the more recent videos, with charlie, Winona, Wilson, and Max, maxwell sees charlie for the first time in a long, long time. He is frozen, but when Wilson calls him, he immediately follows him out. This shows me he puts Wilson on the same level as CHARLIE now, if not HIGHER. 
But something else that isn’t technically canon that made me ship it is this: when i played adventure mode for the first time, i got all the way to the end cutscene and died during it. I didn’t unlock max so i had to do it again. 
I restarted, and it made me think of Wilson KNOWING adventure mode was not a way out. KNOWING the end was not going to go well for him. But going through all five worlds, AGAIN, JUST to free maxwell. And that really got me to love the ship jknkjn
In conclusion maxwell and Wilson have an absolutely beautiful relationship, and it’s good. 
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fireemblems24 · 3 years
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Merit Based System
This is a bit all over the place. Sorry about that. I watched a show this weekend that really illustrates why I no longer believe in Edelgard's system after her support with Ferdinand.
Spoilers for Fire Emblem Three Houses CF route and Edelgard & Ferdinand's support and the show Segodon up to episode 8.
Segodon is a taiga drama that retells the life of historical figure Saigo Takamori a. k. a. the last samurai. This man was a brilliant politician and played an instrumental role in Japan's tumultuous 1800s where they overthrew the shogun and instated a modern government. The show itself is absolutely fantastic so far (though, I love anything to do with the Bakumatsu, no, that's a lie, there's some real shitty Bakumatsu anime.).
Like the real life Saigo, the fictional representation has a lot of "merit." As the show writes him, he has a high level of empathy for people who are hurting because of Japan's horrible, outdated systems and is constantly does whatever is in his power to convince the powers that be to back off a bit because their taxes and punishments are so harsh at times, his native Satsuma was at serious risk of starving its entire agricultural force out of work.
Not only is Saigo intelligent, but he's also tenacious. He "dares" to ask his "betters" to see the errors of their way, goes out of his way to try and get audiences with people far above his station, and does everything he possibly can to help everyone around him. Whether he's tackling problems with a larger system or a hurting individual around him, he's trying his best to make things right. And when people listen to him, things improve. People are also naturally drawn to his leadership and overall gentle disposition.
He's also broke.
Saigo comes from a very poor, very large family. So when the powers that be grant him an opportunity to travel to Edo (then capital of Japan), where he could get real experience, where he could start rubbing shoulders with the right people and find ways to gain influence, learn, etc . . . He can't. Because his family can't cough up 30 ryo.
No matter how much merit Saigo has, his upbringing keeps him from reaching his full potential. The top leadership of the area invites him to the opportunity of a life time, but even with an open invitation, he can't so easily accept it.
His mother, father, and grandfather had all just died (and this is a historical fact, at least) and left him in charge. The family went into even more debt buying medicine during various illnesses. There's younger and elder family he needs to look out for, a sister who he now needs to find a husband for, and a new wife on top of everything else. They don't have 30 ryo to spare.
No matter how much merit Saigo has, no matter how much he wants to make a difference, he can't. Because he was born into poverty, because he can't afford to step away from the family land or else risk running out of food in the winter. His merit isn't enough. You need privilege. And he's already got privilege in that he wasn't born a farmer, that he has the personal attention of those in charge through connections and channels his family name permitted him, he's already jumped over hurdles others can't - and he still can't take advantage of his merit.
A merit based system benefits those who have and punishes the have nots. All the rich kids with rich parents who don't have to think twice about spending 30 ryo and have servants to take care of the elderly and young in their families. They can take every opportunity so the gap widens even further. Even worse, a merit based system tells the people born poor, born sick, born neurologically divergent, born into an abusive family, born into a historically disadvantaged race/gender/sexuality/etc, etc . . . that it's their fault they're not at the top. That if they just "tried harder" and had "more merit" they could make it. You too could be a billionaire if you just pulled on your bootstraps hard enough, and failure means you didn't try hard enough. And, yes, this is very much happening in our culture today.
That Edelgard didn't even consider something as huge as inequality before starting a war that would kill thousands really shocked me. Her support with Ferdinand exposed just how naive she is and how narrow-minded her world-view and experiences are. If she's going to sacrifice thousands of people for her supposedly better system, I wish she'd put at least some thought into it.
I do not expect a Fire Emblem game to get hyper-political or into nitty-gritty details. Honestly, I wish this support didn't exist. If their A-Support focused just on educational reform or even Ferdinand cementing himself as a actual check/rival to Edelgard, then I'd be more willing to believe she could make a good leader. But, for some reason, they decided to use this support to show how little Edelgard actually thought about her actions despite the dire consequences of them. These details aren't needed. These lines could be completely omitted and let the reader imagine Edegard has the political know-how to actually pull what she wants off. But instead the game went out of it's way to show she doesn't really have a single clue what she's talking about, and I cannot fathom why. This isn't even touching on her admitting it didn't even occur to her that her actions would leave a power vacuum and would need to fill it (like - what -), but that's for another day.
THIS is why I can't get behind Edelgard. Because her merit based system isn't worth all the lives she destroyed in her war. She thinks her ideas are worth everyone that dies, but her ideas aren't well thought out. This episode 8 of Segodon illustrated perfectly why Edelgard's system is a house of cards that will do nothing but pat the nobility and otherwise rich and privileged on the back while blaming farmers and otherwise disadvantaged for their continued poverty because "lack of merit."
I honestly can't express how badly I wish these lines in this support didn't exist. It serves no purpose except to expose Edelgard's lack of forethought and lack of understanding about the lives of the people she's claiming she's making better.
But, yeah, watching this episode just made me think about Edelgard's system and reminded me again of the exact moment I gave up on supporting her war.
(spoiler alert about Segodon: all those people he kept helping scrounge together 30 ryo so he can go to Edo and leaves the lands in charge of his younger brother, and yes, he's going to go down in history, but also . . . prepare for a downer ending if you actually watch this (I mean . . . it's the Bakumatsu). I already know I'm going to cry my fucking eyes out and I haven't even meant this version of Sakamoto Ryoma yet)
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sapphire-dreamsky · 3 years
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Past, Present, Future
Starring: Yuuji Itadori, Nobara Kugisaki, Megumi Fushiguro, Satoru Gojo, Reader, Sukuna
Pairing: Satoru Gojo/Reader
Warnings: Cheating is mentioned, Satoru might be ooc
A/N: I don’t condone cheating. I wanted this fic to be light and fun but it turned out a bit differently. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Also, in this fanfic, Satoru was an a** when he was younger.
It was not their fault they thought their sensei was single. While beautiful, Gojo was so immature that it was hard to imagine him with someone. This person deserves a trophy for being able to put up with the ball of energy and immaturity that was Gojo Satoru. Besides,...after the Kyoto Goodwill event, they heard some...ahem...interesting rumours concerning the white head. Apparently, their beloved idiotic sensei cannot settle down. There were so many rumours surrounding the strongest; some were hard to believe because of their level of ridiculousness, others were not so hard to believe because...well...it is Gojo Satoru. He could make anything possible. One of them, while ridiculous, seems highly probable. It was Utahime-sensei who told them about it when they pestered her about Gojo-sensei in his adolescent years. They wanted to be able to relate to him a little bit more. What they heard though, left their mind reeling with questions.
"Gojo-sensei dated more than twenty girls in a month?!"
That sounded so ridiculous, cruel, and impossible. However, Utahime was not one to lie or slander one's reputation like that. Even if it was someone as annoying as Gojo. After that, they were unable to picture their sensei as the type to settle down. It was just impossible. Even if that little anecdote was years ago, as Megumi specified to his friends. It was possible that Gojo changed and was not the same man anymore. But the other two’s minds were set on the fact that their sensei is a player. Or a serial-dater. Although, they have yet to catch him in the act. As of right now, they haven’t seen Gojo with anyone. Maybe Utahime did exaggerate his reputation a little after all. But their curiosity was already set. They wanted to catch their sensei in the act. So, they decided to trail their sensei when the latter was seen heading out in casual clothing and his horrible out-of-style glasses. Kugisaki sighed in despair when seeing the infamous pair of glasses on his face. She was persuaded that he couldn’t be heading out on a date with this offending accessory. 
Low and behold, they were able to trail Satoru without getting busted yet. Their training with the second-year students must have paid off! Or so the three ‘spies’ thought. Truthfully, Satoru noticed them a while ago. Actually, it was as soon as they left the school. But he thought their little game was amusing so he let it go on. After all, it wasn’t like he was trying to hide where he was going. If he was, he would have teleported to the alley near the cafe he loves to go to. Just thinking about the cafe and the sweets which they sell makes him salivate. He couldn’t wait to go and try out the new Friday special. So, with a new spring in his step, completely forgetting about his poor students who didn’t have long legs like his, he practically jogs to his favourite cafe, the new sweets calling for him. The three students curse as they are forced to practically run to catch up with their excited sensei. In their mind, Gojo was late as usual, and to not make his date angry, he was hurrying to their meeting place. An angry woman is scary. The proof of that statement lies in Kugisaki and Maki-senpai. Both were scary when angered.
The little cafe was quiet. There were not many people dining in. In fact, it was a perfect place to have a date in, Yuuji noted. Particularly if you don’t want to get caught dating multiple girls at the same time. Luckily for the three of them, the windows were see-through. They could easily see inside as their sensei plops down on one of the comfortable seats. Immediately, a waitress comes and takes his order. Yuuji and Nobara squint as they try to somehow decipher the exchange between the waitress and Gojo. 
‘‘Do you know what they are saying?’’
‘‘Of course not you idiot! They are too far.’’
The only proof of Gojo being on a date will have to be to see someone sit across Gojo then. The three of them desolate over that fact. Knowing their sensei, it could take forever before they realise he is, in the end, not on a date. 
‘‘I don’t think he is on a date.’’
Nobara and Yuuji look at Fushiguro with question marks on their head. The latter sigh, before pointing at their sensei.
‘‘If he was on a date, I think the date would have been waiting for a while now. No matter the circumstances, Gojo-sensei is always late.’’
‘‘Don’t you think he would try to make an exception for a date?’’, Yuuji ponders.
‘‘If he is dating around, I don’t think so. He could care less if he is on time.’’ After that, Nobara and Yuuji fell silent. They were losing their time after all. Sad and looking like kicked puppies at their failed mission, they were ready to head back to the campus when they noticed a young woman watching them with inquisitive eyes. 
‘‘Ah, uh, we were...uh’’
Yuuiji was not making any real sense as he tried to explain why they were hiding behind the bushes in the park. He quickly relaxes as she lets out a little laugh. ‘‘I see. So you are these guys then.’’ Before they could question her on what they mean, she continued. ‘‘Do you want to come to the little cafe? It’s on me.’’ 
That offer sounded suspicious but they were jujutsu sorcerers in training. They were sure they could handle a civilian. She doesn’t seem to have any curse energy. And if she was indeed linked to the group of curses after Yuuji, they could always count on their sensei who was currently typing on his phone. The woman’s phone went off at the same moment. Multiple arrays of texts follow each other. They felt sympathy for her phone as it seems to be getting bombarded by numerous texts. All of which she ignores as they follow her to the cafe. 
The inside of the cafe was as nice as they expected, if not much better. The smell of coffee and sweets was overwhelming but in a good way. Their sensei was seated at the far back of the cafe, meaning if they were noticed, they were screwed. They couldn’t really find any explanation on why a stranger would invite them in a cafe. One that is coincidentally the same as their sensei. Before they could steer away from the back though, the woman grabbed their shoulders and gently pushed them towards where their teacher was sitting. The latter was frowning at his phone, typing some more before the woman made her presence known. 
‘‘I’m here. There’s no need to send me multiple messages again.’’ 
Rolling her eyes, she pushed the three frozen students in front of him. ‘What is happening,’ is the only thought ringing in their minds as their teacher waved at them, grinning widely.
‘‘Oh? You found my beloved students?’’
‘‘They were hanging around in the bushes. You could have invited them in, instead of just sitting and dreaming about all the cavities you will get.’’
The woman sits in front of their teacher as the three young adolescents sit near her. They didn’t really understand the peculiar situation anymore. ‘Was this woman dating sensei?’ ‘She is far too nice to be dating him.’ ‘Oh no! She must not know about sensei’s reputation!’ These were the thoughts that simultaneously rang in their heads. One thing for sure, they had to warn her. She was nice enough to invite them on their date, they felt that she didn’t deserve the heartbreak. In fact, no woman deserved to be heartbroken by the cruelty of their sensei. 
The couple were discussing their respective days while waiting for the sweets Satoru ordered earlier. Both seemed to be on good terms, laughing at each other’s jokes. They were in all, having a good time. Yuuji felt guilty. What if in the end, Gojo-sensei was serious about her? But knowing their sensei, he had so many secrets that they felt they must at least tell her about Gojo’s habits. 
‘‘So...Uhm...Miss?’’
‘‘Ah. How rude of me! I didn’t introduce myself, did I? I’m (Y/N). You can just call me that. I don’t mind.’’
Her smile was so sweet that Kugisaki felt it was her duty to kick Gojo if he was indeed playing around.
‘‘How did you two meet? Are you a sorc- oof’’
The kick in the angle was by Megumi. The gloomy boy glared at Yuuji while drinking his drink silently. 
‘‘Funny thing is, we actually met when we were in high school. I didn’t go to that fancy school of yours though. I went to an all-girl school. I was in dire need of some sweets when we ran into each other and I spilled his drink. All over myself.’’
She glared at Gojo who only smiled innocently. He was not innocent, however. The students knew why the drink was only spilled on her while he remained spotless. 
‘‘And then did you start dating since then?’’
‘‘No. I hated him.’’ 
That statement did not surprise any of them. Gojo feigned hurt while he clutched onto his shirt. 
‘‘How could you hate me?! I am as sweet as a strawberry cake!’’
‘‘Maybe if someone poisoned it. Then yes. You would be the strawberry cake.’’
The students watched them banter back and forth. 
‘‘Then...when did you start dating?’’
‘‘Hmm...When did we start dating Satoru?’’
‘‘After I declared my love for you during our third meeting anniversary of course!’’
The students sweat-dropped. That sounds like something Satoru would do. 
‘‘But then...what about all the girls Utahime-sensei said you were dating? The twenty girls in a month?’’
Both Megumi and Nobara froze. As soon as the shock from Yuuji’s bluntness faded, they stomped on his feet. He winces at that. Even Sukuna, who didn’t mean to spy on them, but was curious about the annoying sorcerer let out a sigh at the lack of tack of his vessel. 
Satoru’s smile seemed frozen on his face. Nobody moved as they waited for the young woman’s reaction. The waitress brought in the sweets at that exact moment but no one dared to dig in the delicious food. Finally,
‘‘Oh, that. Yeah. I knew about it. Although it wasn't really twenty. It was five girls. He thought he was so slick with it too. He dated one of my ex-friends. I’m pretty sure you forgot about her though.’’
‘‘Ah...uh...I can’t remember…’’
Satoru seemed sheepish and awkward. Such a strange and alien sight of their always composed sensei.
‘‘Of course, you wouldn’t. You dated so many people I’m surprised they never found out. I would have slapped you if I was one of them. You got off easy.’’
(Y/N) drinks her coffee as if what she just said was a mere comment on the weather.  Satoru glances at his girlfriend every now and then while Yuuji was feeling awful. 
‘‘I am so sorry Gojo-sensei, (Y/n)-san! I shouldn’t have brought it up!’’
The female cocked her head to the side, throwing a slight smile in his way. 
‘‘It’s fine Itadori-kun. It’s not like I wanted to date him back then. I told you, didn’t I? I hated him.’’
This time, it was Kugisaki who was curious.
‘‘Then, how did you and sensei date? He dated your friend right?’’
(Y/n) shrugged carelessly, digging into her cake with her fork before thrusting it in Satoru’s face. The man was far too silent for his own good.
‘‘It was into our second years of being frenemies. He was awful as you must have heard. He was a true player back then. But then, mysteriously, he cleaned up his act. He broke up with my friend and seemingly with the other girls too. I didn’t see him hanging around the city with any girls for a good year, nor did he get any calls from any one of them when we hanged out. After all of this, my friend, the one who dated him, came to meet me after class and started shouting at me. Apparently, Satoru was in love with someone for real and after some digging, she came to the conclusion that it was my fault since I knew him as well. For her, I was jealous and tried to seduce him. It was a ridiculous and frivolous idea. Or so I thought. Because a year later that dork comes and tells me he loves me.’’
Yuuji and Megumi were in awe. So, their sensei really did go and date multiple girls at once? 
‘‘How were you certain he would never cheat?’’ This time it was Megumi asking the question. Surely, you must have had some reservations about dating such a character.
‘‘I was unsure of it too at first. I rejected him and stopped talking to him. He was persistent and wouldn’t stop. So I agreed to one date, which turned into multiple ones. As of now, I haven’t caught him cheating. But if he does, then I will get sad and leave him. I can’t stand cheaters. What he did is disgusting, but people do change I guess. That is, only if they really want to. A lesson for you kids. Don’t go and date someone who is horrible to you and think you can change them. In the end, only they can change themselves. They are not worth your time if they are stubborn and refuse to see the wrong in their actions.’’
She reaches over to squeeze Satoru’s hand. The latter was still quiet about it all. The silence continued even after the kids’ excused themselves, having been called back to the school by Nanami.
‘‘Aren’t you going to finish your cake? It’s your favourite, you know?’’
‘‘You know I would never cheat on you right? I was young and dumb and an asshole. And while I can’t take it back or apologise enough, I would never cheat on you.’’
(Y/n) only smiled at that. ‘‘I know. You have changed. You are not that guy anymore. You can’t change your past, but you can change your present self. I’m glad I met your students. They are a joyful bunch. When we have children one day, I hope they will be like them.’’ 
Satoru grinned, slowly reverting back to his old self. ‘‘I don’t know. I was thinking another me would be perfect.’’
‘‘If our child turns out like you, I’ll fear all my hair will turn as white as yours, dear. Now finish your cake. I want to go and check out that pet store you mentioned.’’
‘‘Right away, vanilla bean!’’
‘‘What did I tell you about nicknames Satoru?!’’
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