#I was this guy who lived with two other people
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i'm so scared
what will happen to my future
Everyone, take a deep breath.
Now, I cannot tell you what's going to happen for certain. All I know is things are gonna get more tense as steps will be taken backward and people will become more divided.
As we regroup, the first thing we need to do is evaluate the cards each of us hold. It'll look slightly different for each of us. It could be aspects of your identity that act as a protective factor. It could be your financial standing, education, connections, or platform. It could be the city or state you live in that allow more opportunity for progress.
After that, you assess the risks. That means determining where you are in terms of safety and how to protect yourself. What that also means is asking yourself what risks you are willing to take. I'm a stubborn ass who has no qualms taking direct action and the only way I'm leaving is if I'm dragged out kicking and screaming. I know that's not something that can be expected from everyone, but for every person that lays low, we also need people who are willing to take those risks and cause a scene.
These two components come together in the actions we take. Petitioning and protesting. Donating and volunteering. Providing counsel and sanctuary. Supporting nonprofits, libraries, and local businesses while boycotting the corporations working against our best interests. Educating ourselves, listening to people being affected, and raising kids to be empathetic people. Most importantly, it means voting at every level every time, not just when there's a candidate that aligns perfectly with your views.
And it is so tempting to find someone to blame, especially when half the country voted for this guy and a bunch of people didn't vote at all. You're scared. You're angry. So am I. These emotions can be useful tools, but they can just as easily devolve into hateâit's the easiest way to think in the face of uncertainty, but the least productive. Don't let the powers that be convince you that your neighbor is your enemy. We are only doomed if we stop having each other's backs.
#not dc related#2024 presidential election#us elections#us politics#donald trump#tw politics#personal
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Done Waiting
Lando Norris x bsf!reader
She isnât you
Hi, could I request a salami sandwich with tomato on wheat bread, please, and thank you. Request from @itsnotsophiasworld
â-------------------------------
MF: SOS, can anyone fly to Spain to check on Lando? From what Iâve gathered, he is staying in an Airbnb by himself and very much in his head. Iâm caught up in some work stuff, or else Iâd make the trip myself.Â
Your heart sank reading Max's text to your friend group. Lando had been having a rough season and was constantly getting ripped apart in the media, no matter what he did. All you could do was make sure that he knew you were there for him and try to be around as much as possible, which was easy as you also lived in Monaco. But after the last race before summer break, none of you had heard from him.Â
Looking at flights, you quickly replied to the group saying that you could go. One of the many perks of working remotely was that you could pick up your computer and go anywhere, so leaving to help Lando was a no-brainer. There was a flight leaving tonight, so you purchased that and started to pack.Â
You wished the world could see him the way that you did. He was a caring, down-to-earth friend who would do anything for the people he loved. It was hard for anyone who knew him not to like him, and it was hard for you not to be in love with him.Â
It hadnât taken you long after meeting him to fall for his charm, but he had been dating someone else then, so you settled for friendship. That was three years ago, and youâd dated guys since, but the feelings still lingered. He could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world, so it was easy to get sucked in.Â
Ultimately, you valued your friendship too much to ever act on it, even when you were both single. Youâd been through too much together to risk losing him. You had a hunch that he felt the same way about you because of how overly affectionate he was with you compared to everyone else and that you were usually his first call. Still, his life was busy, and you understood that a girlfriend didnât fit in that picture right now.Â
Landing in Spain around 10, you grabbed your luggage before jumping in a cab to the address Max had sent you. The Airbnb was a cute little beach cottage right on the ocean, and you inhaled a deep breath of salty air and instantly felt better.Â
The door to the house swung open, and you were greeted by what seemed to be a very irritated Lando.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.Â
âMaking sure you donât do something crazy,â you replied, mirroring him with his arms.Â
âI want to be alone.â
âI donât care.âÂ
You stared at each other for a while, neither one giving in before he finally sighed and moved past you to grab your suitcase, grumbling to himself. The cottage had windows on the backside, allowing a constant view of the ocean, which you could appreciate. Lando put my luggage in the guest room before joining me as you looked at the water.Â
âYou didnât have to come; Iâm fine,â he muttered. You looked over at him with a sad smile, reaching your hand down to grab his.Â
âI wanted to come.â He gave you a small smile, and you took in his exhausted state, noting just how bad it really was.Â
âWhy donât we get some rest? Then youâll be ready for a full day tomorrow,â you suggested, and he looked over at you.Â
âIâm here to relax, y/n,â he said, and you smiled mischievously.Â
âIt will be relaxing, I promise.â
It was not relaxing.Â
You dragged Lando out of bed at 7 a.m. to go on a run, and he was not happy with you, but you were just happy he came along. Jogging through the little town, you could tell that his mood was improving as he kept pace with you.Â
Out of breath, you were hunched over as you two had climbed to the top of a dune.Â
âAre you not relaxed?â Lando teased, and you gave him the finger. âArenât you supposed to be working?âÂ
âYeah, I need to log on when we get back to the place,â you wheezed, and he handed you his water bottle. âWhat are your plans for while I work?âÂ
âOh, I donât know, scroll through social media hate, maybe watch all my old races and critique everything I did; the possibilities are endless.âÂ
Shooting him a look, you sighed, âThat would be funny if I didnât know youâd already been doing that.âÂ
He looked down at his feet, and you moved over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. His head found your shoulder, he breathed deeply, and you held on tighter.Â
âYouâre going to be okay Lan,â you said, looking up at him.Â
âI know,â he said sadly.Â
Lando spent the rest of the day in the water while you worked, slipping away to get groceries for the night. He hadnât had time to hide all the takeout bags and boxes he had been surviving on, so you figured a homecooked meal would do him well.Â
Having dealt with him being a picky eater for a while, you were finishing up your favorite spaghetti and meatballs recipe when he came back into the house.Â
âSmells great,â he commented and you smiled. âCan we eat outside?â
âYou read my mind,â you replied, plating the food.Â
Eating on the back deck, you felt a sense of serenity as the sound of waves crashing filled your ears.Â
âThis place is amazing; how did you find it?â You asked, turning to Lando.Â
âHonestly, I just opened the app and picked the first place I saw that looked secluded,â he admitted. âI just wanted to be away from everyone.âÂ
âWe are here for you to lean on Lan,â you said softly. âIâm never going to leave you.âÂ
âI know that, but I just donât want to disappoint you,â he confessed, and your heart sank.Â
âLando Norris,â you said, forcing him to look at you. âThere is nothing you could ever do to disappoint me. I am so insanely proud of everything youâve accomplished. Please come back to Monaco with me tomorrow.â
âWhat did I do to deserve you?â He whispered, holding out his arms. You climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair.Â
âYou buy me so much shit so I have to be nice to you,â you joked and he giggled. He pulled his head back to look at you, and your breath hitched because of the lack of distance between the two of you. Shifting, you tried to move back but his grip on you tightened so you leaned down to bring your lips to his. As you were a millimeter away his phone started to ring and you rested your head briefly against his, groaning internally.Â
Sliding off of him you handed him his phone as it was Max calling. Hearing him tell Max he was coming home the next day made you smile, and you gathered all the dishes to clean up. He joined you a little later, and neither of you brought up the almost kiss; you wrote it off as something that happened in the heat of the moment.Â
â------------------------------
Zandvoort was a dream, and you were so glad you made the trip with your friends. The next race you were going to was Singapore and Lando had invited you, Max, and some others to hang out the week before in Portugal.Â
Your friend group had rented a big house, and you were ready to soak in the sun and relax after taking the week off work. Pietra and you had flown in together and met up with everyone that night at dinner.Â
âHi, Iâm Mary,â a girl you didnât recognize said to you, holding out her hand. You smiled back warmly, introducing yourself.Â
âMary and I met at a shoot early this year,â Pietra explained, and you nodded. You chatted with her for a while over dinner, glad to have another girl on the trip.Â
You were less happy the next day when you watched this girl throw herself at Lando every chance she got. Right now, you were watching as she asked Lando how to show her how to hit the ball off the tee at the golf course where you guys were.Â
âYa know I went golfing with her two weeks ago, and she had a perfect swing,â Pietra muttered and you grimaced, watching Lando wrap his arms around the girl to guide her swing. It seemed like she would find a way to touch him no matter where you went. Up against him at dinner, clinging to him in the pool, leaning on him while you were watching a movie.Â
At this point your jealousy was flaring up and you were trying to keep your composure, especially because this girl had been nothing but nice to you. What made it worse was that Lando entertained it, accepting her advances right in front of you. Your mind replayed that almost kiss back in Spain and the way the two of you had gotten closer since that trip. It had seemed to you that something was changing in your relationship, but clearly not. The whole trip you felt like your heart was being ripped apart and you were starting to wonder if you needed to take a break from being around him until you could get over your crush.Â
Two nights before you were supposed to leave the group ended up at a club downtown as a pre-celebration for what you predicted would be a Lando win in Singapore. Rounds and rounds of shots were taken and you were dancing with Pietra on the dance floor trying to have a good time.Â
You briefly glanced back at the VIP section, and your stomach dropped. Mary was sitting on Landoâs lap, and you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Water instantly filled your eyes, and Pietra looked concerned before following your gaze. She looked at you with such sadness that you decided then and there that you were done.Â
Leaving the club you walked back to the Airbnb alone. You werenât sure if it was your drunkenness or just the emotional exhaustion of the situation but you started to get angry. Time after time, you were there for him and this is what you got back. It would be different if he had made it clear from the start that he wasnât interested but he didnât do that. He slept in your bed back in Monaco on nights like these, he spoiled you constantly with gifts, and you knew that he had told other drivers on the grid to back off from you, laying a claim.Â
God, you were so fucking over it.Â
You gathered all your stuff and threw it in your suitcase, calling for a cab to take you to the airport. You made it down the stairs just as Max was coming in. His face fell as he saw your bag.Â
"No y/n donât go,â he pleaded, and you shook your head, already feeling tears start to fill your eyes.Â
âI canât fucking do this anymore Max,â you said, voice cracking. âI have to protect my heart.âÂ
âYou know he loves you,â he said moving towards you to hold you. âEveryone knows that.âÂ
âIf thatâs true, why have I watched him with her this whole weekend? Why did I just watch him sit there when she stuck her tongue down his throat right in front of me,â you yelled and Max stayed silent. âExactly. I need some space to figure out how things can move forward between us.âÂ
Max helped you carry your bag outside and the two of you stood silently waiting for the car. Just as it pulled up, Lando walked up to the house, alone.Â
âY/N!â He called out, not seeing your suitcase yet. âWhereâd you run off too? I was looking for you.âÂ
You turned around and his eyes widened seeing your tear stained face, his gaze flickering down to your bag.Â
âWhatâs going on?â He asked hoarsely and you just shook your head turning back to get into the car before you started to sob.Â
âLet her go mate,â you heard Max tell him and you looked out the window to see him holding Lando back. The sight made you cry harder as the car finally drove off.Â
Landoâs POV
Watching the car disappear down the street, Lando turned to Max, panic and confusion colliding in his mind.
âWhy is she leaving, Max? What the hell happened?â
Max let out a sigh, his eyes searching Landoâs face with a mix of frustration and pity. âMate, sheâs in love with you. And honestly, youâre in love with her too, even if you havenât figured it out yet.â
Lando froze, the weight of Maxâs words hitting him harder than he expected. He thought of all the moments he spent with youâthe late-night talks, the shared laughter, the comforting silence. He thought about how heâd let Mary get close, but each time she reached for him, a nagging feeling crept up inside him.
She isnât you.
The thought was so painfully clear now. It didnât matter how kind or fun Mary wasâshe wasnât you. And suddenly, he realized why none of it felt right.
âI need to go,â Lando said suddenly. âI need to go to the airport.âÂ
He took off down to the main street hailing a cab but when he finally got there, you were gone.Â
â--------------------------------------------
You skipped the Singapore GP. You didnât even watch it on tv so you didnât know why everyone was wondering why despite winning, Lando looked miserable standing on the podium.Â
He had texted you a million times begging you to call him but you declined the call everytime. You were trying to move on. Youâd started running again in the mornings, working out of coffee shops, and hanging out with your girlfriends. Basically you were doing everything in your power to not think of him; and it worked until 10pm each night. Then you were miserable.Â
It was two weeks after Singapore when you heard knocking at your door one evening. You werenât expecting anyone so you were especially surprised to see Oscar standing on the other side of your door. Considering he didnât live in Monaco, you didnât really know what to say, just stared at him silently.Â
âMay I come in?â He asked politely and you nodded, stepping aside to let him through. âNice apartment.â
âThanks,â you replied following him into the living room. âWhat are you doing here?â
He settled down on your couch, motioning for you to join him and you sunk down on the other side.Â
âI need you to tell me what happened when you and Lando were in Portugal,â he said slowly and you immediately looked away.Â
âIt doesnât matter,â you mumbled, playing with your hands.Â
âIt does matter,â Oscar insisted. âItâs okay if you finally rejected him but I need to know how to fix him.â
Your head snapped up, âI didnât reject him Oscar. He basically rejected me.âÂ
âThereâs no way,â Oscar said, shocked and you told him everything that had happened from you flying to Spain for him to him making out with that girl at the club.Â
âTrust me when I say that Iâm not trying to invalidate your feelings, but I feel like this is a big misunderstanding,â Oscar said and you rolled your eyes. âHe is so in love with you y/n. All he does is talk about you.â
âThen why did he never tell me!â You said, voice rising. âIâve been there the whole time Oscar, and he has never said anything. I want to be with someone who isnât afraid to love me.âÂ
Oscarâs heart broke at your words, knowing you were feeling this way.Â
âI came here y/n, because he is a mess without you,â he said. âIâve never seen him like this and itâs starting to affect his racing so Iâm begging you to at least think about talking to him.âÂ
â-------------------------------------
You would have thought that Lando would stop texting after a while but he didnât. Every morning he texted you âgood morningâ and gave you updates on his day even though you werenât responding. His plan seemed to be to slowly chip away at you until you were ready to come back and unfortunately it was working.Â
Brazil was the next race that your friend group was attending and you went back and forth on what you should do before finally deciding to book a flight. Max must have told Lando because you immediately were notified that your flight had been upgraded and your hotel had been booked.Â
Because of a work event, you werenât going to be able to get there until Saturday night and probably wouldnât see Lando until qualifying or after the race. You joined Max and Pietra on the track, bright and early on Sunday morning and you were wondering how Lando would survive with it being this early in the morning.Â
Oscar gave you a big hug when he saw you and you could tell he was incredibly relieved that you were there. Qualifying was 20 minutes away and you heading towards the Paddock club when you turned a corner and were immediately wrapped up in two arms. Inhaling his familiar scent, you relaxed into his touch.Â
âI missed you so fucking much,â he said into your ear and you hummed in reply. You were still unsure about pretending like nothing ever happened. He pulled back to look at you and his excitement was contagious, pulling a small smile out of you.Â
âWeâll talk later okay?â He asked and you nodded. âI have a lot of things I need to say to you.â
He kissed your forehead before running off and you tried to keep your cool. Qualifying was good for him and you were feeling good about the race but a little nervous about the weather conditions.Â
Sitting with Max and Pietra in the paddock club the mood was very much anxious. Lando had been doing great until a red flag reset everything. He had fallen down because of pitting and you watched as he went off the track on that first turn, your heart sinking. The rest of the race was a blur and he finished in P6 which you knew would not go over well with him.Â
After the race, you felt hesitant heading back to the McLaren hospitality area. You werenât sure if heâd want to see you, especially in his disappointment. But as you lingered by the entrance, you caught sight of him. Lando was drenched, exhausted, and his usual radiant energy seemed dimmed. Still, he locked eyes with you, a faint smile managing to pull at the corner of his lips.
He walked over slowly, stopping right in front of you. âYou waited for me?â
âOf course I did, Lando,â you replied softly, feeling the gravity of the moment settle in. âI always do.â
He nodded, then glanced around at the crowded area. âCan we go somewhere⌠quieter?â
You followed him through the paddock until you found yourselves outside in a secluded spot overlooking the track. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, Lando took a deep breath.
âI was an idiot,â he began, voice raw with honesty. âYou donât know how many times I replayed that trip to Portugal, thinking about what I couldâve done differently. I didnât understand how much it would hurt you⌠I was blind to everything but my own mess.â
You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept going, unable to hold back.
âYouâve been the best part of my life for years, and it took almost losing you to realize how much Iâd taken you for granted. Iâm sorry, y/n. I thought I was protecting you by not⌠admitting how I feel. I thought if I never said it out loud, maybe itâd hurt less. But I canât pretend anymore. I love you.â
Hearing those words, the walls youâd built around yourself began to crack, the anger and disappointment from before softening as you looked into his eyes.
âIâve loved you for so long,â you whispered and he gave you a soft smile.Â
âI know, Iâm sorry I didnât see it before.âÂ
When he kissed you, it was tender and full of all the unspoken words and missed opportunities between you. As you pulled away, you both smiled, feeling the weight of the past couple of weeks finally lift.
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beetlejuice!
{beetlejuice!satoru gojo x f!reader}
â â may you never forget me â ⪠ŕźâ
summary: living as a psychic medium was like a ticket straight to nothing in your life, you always accidentally creeping people out and scaring them when you talked about it, and you just feeling emptyâ like something was missing and vacant in your life with no explanation as to why. but upon stumbling through an attic inside a house of a recently deceased couple, you meet himâ beetlejuice, a silly and wacky man who was damned to live in the attic for eternity due to him breaking the rules, you never having met a spirit so forward and flirtatious in your life as you quickly bonded. but when beetlejuice presents the idea of you being able to break his contract and finally set him free, you hesitate at the one condition⌠marrying him.
warnings: MDNI afab!reader, DIABOLICAL angst my god, angst w/ comfort though YIPPEEE, mentions of death, mentions of murder, reader is a psychic medium, fluuufff, SMUUUTTT, p in v sex, DOM AFF SATORU MEOOWWW, unprotected sex (wrap it yâall), creampie, oral, blowie, mentions of ghosts and spirits and things, loosely inspired by the 80s movie, mentions of reader having âpink cheeksâ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)
word count: 19.8k
authors note: YEEEEEOOOOWWWW GET READY YALLâŚ.. SHES FREAKY⌠SHES ANGSTY⌠AND SHES THE MOMEEEENNTTTT omg i absolutely LOOOVEDDD writing this one so much and i hope you guys find it interesting or iâm gonna CRYYYY HEHEHEH no iâm jk but as always, i love you SO SO SO much and thank you for all of your love and support !! MWAAAHHH <333
youâve always had a knack for the paranormal.
and from the newspaper clippings you saw and the meddlesome whisperings of your fellow neighbors, newlyweds adam and barbara maitland died on their way home from a day out in the townâ swerving in their vehicle while crossing over a bridge and crashing through the side of it, evidently sending themselves tumbling down to the river below and drowning.
it was the biggest tragedy your tiny town had ever been hit with, the maitlandâs having renovated their house on the hill from scratch and had recently just finished it when the accident happened, the both of them in the midst of planning their honeymoon to get away from winter river for a little while, happy and in love and looking forward to a quiet serene life together.
it was a shame, really, and it only took two weeks for rumors to spread about how there were always weird moving shadows from the windows of their two story home, or slight flashings of neon blue or white seeping through the cracks of their front doorâ all of which pissed the realtors off seeing as the rumors prevented the house from being sold again, prospected buyers coming in with high hopes only to be scared off once they so even explored the town, a store clerk or a fellow neighbor quick to tell them of the gossip and to stay away, ultimately causing the house to collect dust and cobwebs until realtors decided they wouldnât bother much with it anymore.
and the rumors always peaked your interest, as your entire life youâve always had a passion for the supernatural seeing as your late parents were psychic mediums for the otherworldly, a beautiful ominous gift that was relayed to you from the moment you were able to correctly comprehend sentences, your mind and soul more welcoming to spirits of the unknown compared to regular folk who flat out refused.
and why? you didnât know. they were just mystic entities that perhaps couldnât find their way to the other side like they were intended, and if the rumors were true, the maitlandâs were in the same predicament, and you felt like they just needed time and space without the pestering of realtors or dumb kids knocking on the windows to see if a ghost would pop outâ deserving of a proper chance to figure it out.
except your boyfriend wouldnât understand that either.
âbabe câmon!â he pleaded with you, a distressed look on his face. âi thought you liked creepy ghost shit?â
you scoffed. âyes rin but not to fucking break in and steal their things! what the hellâs the matter with you?!â
rin groaned and rubbed his eyes, his friends obviously annoyed and bothered by your defiance and it only made you feel awkward, sitting there on your desk chair in your college dorm and guiltily picking at your black nail polish.
ây/n we literally cannot go if you donât go.â he pushed. âwe need your ghost brain to tell us if theyâre around so we can scram if they decide to kill us.â
you snorted, already aggravated by rinâs lack of respect and wholeheartedly believing dumb stereotypes.
âyouâre committing a crimeââ
âthe house is abandoned! no one gives a shit!â he threw his arms up. âbabe câmon iâm serious itâs getting late and weâre losing time.â
why wasnât he listening?
âwhat are you looking for anyways?â you mumbled.
âmoney.â he replied, grabbing his black bag and swinging it over his shoulder. âthatâs literally it i wonât take anything else.â
âdo you swear?â you peered up at him. âdonât take jewelry or any of their things just money and we get out.â
âyeah we wonât! right guys?â
rin looked over both of his shoulders to ensure that his friends agreed, them muttering and sighing as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek and feeling embarrassed for some reason, slowly standing and crossing your arms.
you never liked his friends.
âand leave me out of it okay?â you spoke. âwe could get kicked out of college for this i donât know how youâre not worriedâŚâ
he swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and nudged you on, you stumbling a bit as he basically had a lock around your neck on your way outside.
âtheyâre not gonna care y/n.â he dismissed, unlocking the car and his friends piling in the back while you settled in the passenger seat. ânobody will. itâs abandoned.â
the entire way there you were aggravated and guilty, rin and his friends babbling on about the valuable things theyâd hope to find and the kind of ghosts they thought would appear, not a single person in the car an actual believer of those paranormal rumors as they poked fun and teased, your forehead against the glass of the window and miserable as rin drove up the steep hillâ the night chilly and so dark that you could barely make out the shape of the house until you were just about to pull up to the driveway.
rin turned off his headlights and tuned down the radio to avoid drawing attention, steering wheel shifting a little to the right so the car could gradually round over and stop next to the front steps of the porchâ rin shutting off the ignition once he parked and stuffing his keys into his pocket.
and you could immediately feel a presence even from outside the house, your arms stiff and tingly as you all quietly got out of the car and made your way to the stairs, dry dirt crinkling beneath your shoes as you tried to swallow back your nerves knowing that at any moment you could all be fucking arrested.
âare you sensing ghosts?â rin whispered, a sly teasing grin on his face as the floorboards of the porch creaked with your movements, his hand reaching and jiggling the doorknob.
âyeah.â
his eyes snapped over to you. ââŚreally? yeah right.â
âno iâm serious.â you whispered back. âwhat did you bring me for if youâre not even gonna believe when i tell youââ
âokay! okay iâm sorry.â he apologized, though it didnât seem genuine as he patted your back. âi believe you trust me.â
âwaitâ she said thereâs ghosts?â one of his friends piped up. âhow do you know?â
you went to answer but rin beat you to it.
âsheâs a psychic⌠i guess.â he unzipped his bag and pulled out a mini tool kit, a mix of screwdrivers and bobby pins inside. âshe can sense them.â
âoh my godâŚâ another one mumbled, all of his friends eerie now. ârinâ i thought you said those rumors were bullshit.â
your eyes narrowed. âyou said that?â
âno!â i mean, technically yes butââ he took two bobby pins from the kit and put the rest of the box away, hunching down to lock pick the knob. âyou guys really think any of that is real? itâs just the neighbors man theyâre boredââ
âpeople here donât just make up rumors like that rin.â you cut him off. âthe majority of winter river is elderly and in retirement why the fuck would they be making upââ
âbecause theyâre old and boredââ
the lock released a prominent click and rin tested the doorknob again, this time it turning all the way and opening as he pushed it wide, you all proceeding cautiously and it somehow being colder inside than it was outside as the group shined their flashlights around every corner and space, not bothering to tell your boyfriend that the presence you felt earlier was ten times stronger now, for rin never really believed you or just thought you were being funny whenever you mentioned things like that to him.
you had known rin since the start of college, him always the rebel dickish type as he didnât follow directions or liked whenever people tried to tell him what to do, and how you ended up crossing paths with him and it sticking was something that was a mystery to you.
rin was everything you wanted at first.
and though he was a bit selfish, you foolishly looked past the fact and let him meddle his way into your already monotonous life, it being hard for you to make friends in the first place because of your psychic abilitiesâ always feeling like something was missing and⌠vacant for years growing up without any explanation as to exactly why, figuring it was just the side effects of your parentsâ passing.
but it still didnât help when youâd accidentally partake in scaring off and weirding people out when you mentioned that you just saw their deceased relative wander by, rin being one of the first to actually stay because he didnât believe you, choosing to turn a blind eye to something you treasured about yourself the most, stuck and left to wonder if there was ever someone who did.
but turning a blind eye to just your psychic ability became him turning a blind eye to everything about you, and you felt like he never really listened to what you had to say or cared, often switching the topic back to himself or giving you a series of âmhmâsâ and âyeahâsâ to get you to move on.
you didnât feel seen anymore, but you loved him still for some reason.
âwhere do we even look?â one of his friends whispered, the lot of you traveling as a group through the entry room and down the hall to the kitchen.
âwherever you think a money bank would be.â rin mumbled, leading you all and going round to the living room, his flashlight shining over dusty furniture and spiderwebs. âi think itâd be better if we split up. half of us can take upstairs and the others can look through the kitchen, y/n and i are gonna dig through here for a bitââ
âwhat?â you spoke, his friends nodding and walking off to their designated areas. ârin no i told you iâm notââ
âoh my god babeâ would it really hurt you to just peek in some freaking drawers? let me know if something looks like it has money in it alright?â
he stepped over to the middle and crouched by the coffee table, opening and closing several compartments. âbe useful please.â
you scoffed. âyouâre the one who dragged me here and i told you i wasnât getting involved.â
âyouâre not.â he mumbled, standing back up and going over to a big brown dresser on the side. âjust look at shit and donât touch anything. tell me if you see money.â
you rubbed your cheek in exhausted frustration, thinking itâd be better to just mindlessly look around to appease him as you caught and stared at the photographs over by the fireplaceâ a wedding portrait of whom you assumed to be adam and barbara maitland propped up amongst others of family and friends, your fingers raising to gently wipe away the dirt and grime from the glass to get a clearer look of them.
you felt awful that their lives were taken from them just when they had built such a loving foundation for it, and you felt even more awful that rin and his stupid friends were invading their space and stealing in the way that they were with no sense of respect.
a sudden loud thud from upstairs made you and rin stop in your tracks, the both of you unmoving as you tried to listen.
âiâm gonnaââ you gnawed at your bottom lip. âiâm gonna check upstairsââ
âno absolutely not.â rin shook his head. âitâs probably just my friends itâs fine.â
âif itâs the maitlandâs your friends arenât gonna know what to do besides shit themselvesââ
âokay yeah sure.â he laughed, opening and closing different drawers from top to bottom. âitâs the house babe itâs old and worn out. maybe theâ wood or whatever is acting up.â
you pursed your lips, arms crossing and apprehensive as you stood next to him, knowing with everything in you that the maitlandâs were definitely still present.
âcan we please just go rin...â you asked softly. âplease weâllâ weâll find a different building thatâs actually abandoned and doesnât have the maitlandâs still hereââ
he scoffed. ây/n this one is abandoned.â
âbut itâs only been three months!â you exclaimed. âi donât wanna do this to themââ
ââoh sweet! thereâs a rolex in hereââ
âno!â you snatched the watch from his upheld hand and backed away towards the fireplace. âyou swore to me just money these are their thingsââ
ây/n theyâre dead! who fucking cares? all of their shitâs gonna be donated might as well pawn it.â
âyeah for your own benefit right?â you mumbled, pushing past him and walking down the hall. âiâm going home.â
he looked at you baffled. âare you serious? over a dumb watch?â
ârin youâve gone back on everything you promised and youâre not taking me seriouslyââ
âdid i take the watch? no i didnât so stopââ
âiâm not talking about just the watch!â
âyou know what?! fine!â rin shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, chucking them at you and hitting against your chest as you scrambled to catch them. âgo wait in the car.â
you threw them back and they hit his upper arm, his eyes narrowing at you in return as he then bent down to grab them from the floor.
âiâm not waiting in the damn car iâm walking home.â
âyouâre walking?â he shook his head. âback to your dorm? thatâs gonna take you like an hour y/n.â
you shrugged.
âfine go i donât give a shit.â rin muttered and rolled his eyes. âyou always do this manââ
you didnât bother to stick around for anything else he had to say as you trudged on down the hall and back to the main entryway, tears brimming your eyes at the lack of care he had for you and scolding yourself for the thousandth time for staying with him, trying to understand why he was like this with you when all youâve ever done was be patient and give him the benefit of the doubt when he didnât fucking deserve it.
it was hard for you to tell if he even loved you anymore, and you always psyched yourself out that he did whenever heâd barely just accomplish doing the bare minimum.
upon arriving at the front door, you placed the rolex gently on a lonesome night stand by the coat hanger, your hand reaching and turning the knob to step outside until another loud thud shook through the walls, and louder this time as you pulled back and craned your head to look up the stairs.
muffled voices seeped from the top as they gasped and whispered to each other to shush, you recognizing some to be rinâs friends with irritation and worry simmering in your brain, wondering if they were messing with the maitlandâs things and stealing what they werenât supposed to steal, as they were just as uncaring and selfish as rin was throughout the time that youâve gotten to know them.
and with that in mind, you let go of the doorknob and quietly walked up the stairs, every creak and groan from the wooden slabs underneath your feet making you wince as you went further and further until you reached the top, you sighing as you saw that the maitlandâs room door was wide fucking open and with snickering inside.
but with each step that you took to get closer⌠the more prominent the goosebumps on your arms became and the heavier the feeling in your gut grew, a strange apparent flickering light from your right blinding your vision for a moment as you stopped and turned to look.
your eyes slightly widened, a neon lime green foggy light practically oozing from the attic staircase as it streamed over half of your frame, luring you in with your body mindlessly and curiously walking towards it and up the rugged squeaky stairs, fingers quickly reaching up to swing the attic door open and halting in alarm once you did, the green aluminous light from earlier completely encasing you entirely now as you stepped forward inside the attic.
the door swung and slammed itself shut suddenly, you jumping and spinning around with hurried hands coming up to pull and tug at the knob, breathing irregular upon realizing that it wouldnât fucking budge and was somehow jammed with no explanation as to exactly howâ
âboyfriend troubles?â
âoh my god!â you screamed, hand flying over your heart as your eyes snapped to the source, a tall lanky man standing there with a little grin and vibrant pale blue eyes that only utterly confused you, his vertically stripped black and white suit peculiar and unique as your frantic eyes darted over his figure.
you knew for a fact that the strange man before you wasnât adam maitland, for the way he looked now didnât match the pictures you saw in the newspapers at all, you swallowing thickly and slowly backing up against the attic door with your heart dropping straight down to your ass.
who the fuck was he? was heâ was he a spirit? because if not thereâs a random man literally just basking and relaxing inside theâ
ârelax! relax jeez you look like youâre about to vomit sweets.â
sweets?
âare you dead?!â you blurted, hand scrambling behind you for the doorknob. âare youâ are you alive how are youââ
he laughed loudly and wiggled his little index fingerâ scrunching it up and down to elicit a âyesâ and finding your skittishness a little funny.
âyup! so dead very dead.â
âoâ oh⌠okay...â you spoke softly, tense shoulders gradually relaxing as you gave him a small timid smile, relieved that he wasnât a freaking squatter and doing god knows what up in the attic.
âyou seem happier to see a dead man rather than a live one...â he looked at you amusedly. âyou like ghosts? scary stuff? haunted houses? handsome me?ââ
you nearly choked on your spit at his last comment, an awkward smile wobbling across your face as you played with your fingers.
âiâ i um..â you looked around, your eyes catching a book titled âhandbook for the recently deceasedâ sitting neatly on a dusty table by the door. âyou could say that.. butââ
you hesitated, the manâs head tilting to the side as he waited for you to continue.
âbut what pretty?â
you blushed furiously, never having met a spirit so forward before.
âsorry butâ how did you end up here?â you stood on your tippy toes to peer over his shoulders and around the attic. âand where are the maitlands?â
âoh, those lousy goodie two shoed meanies?â he mumbled, pouting and bitter as he crossed his arms. âbeats me..â
you laughed a little, guard slowly coming down as he didnât seem or feel like a bad person to you, and you thought that perhaps he was in the same boat as the maitlands and was just trying to find his way to the other side.
âwhy are they meanies?â you smiled, and he reciprocated, arms falling to his sides.
âwellâ iâm kind of being held in the attic against my will by theâ holy shit wait!â
he threw his hands out in front of him and took quick stride full steps towards you, a wild excited expression on his face and you stiffening up again, backing up against the door.
âyou can help me!â
âhelp⌠you..?â you squeaked.
he vigorously nodded. âyeah! the butthead caseworkers down in the netherworld banned me from leaving the attic⌠but you can give me a little leg room in my contract sweets!â
netherworldâ caseworkersâ bannedâ
âhuh?!â you exclaimed, brows furrowed and utterly confused at everything he was fucking saying.
youâve only ever seen spirits from afar or casually talked to them about something fleeting before they went on their marry way, but never in your life have you met such a complex soul that was so animate and asking you for a favor straight off the bat⌠as spirits usually justâ knew what they were doing and eventually figured out how to get to the great beyond.
so the subject of caseworkers and the netherworld and whatever the fuck else he was rambling on about was something you were not familiar with.
âi did something they didnât like.â he gave you a boyish half smile. âso they did some ritual thing and now i canât leave the attic.â
you frowned. âwhy would they do that? what did you do?â
he waved you off and swung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you forward with him towards a huge 3D model in the center of the room that you barely just noticedâ intricate and detailed and colorful as your brain put two and two together and figured out that it was a model of the entire city of winter river.
âdonât worry about it! but i overheard juno telling her assistants not to say my name three times or else iâll be let out to roam around the houseââ
juno? whoâs juno?
ââand thatâs why i really need you sweets because iâm dying in this fucking attic⌠way more than i already am.â
you blinked at him. âiâve neverâ iâve seen spirits all my life and iâve never had any of them tell me about caseworkers? and juno? whoâs juno?â
âthe rule is that the land of the living isnât supposed to know.â he pursed his lips and dropped his arm from your shoulders, picking up the book that you had spotted earlier and passing it to you. âsays it in the handbook.â
you timidly took it from him and flittered through the pages, old and crinkly and a little worn out as the gist of the pages you saw was a guide for those beginning their post-livelihood and the steps they needed to do soâ from waiting rooms in the netherworld to being assigned a caseworker to help you out to the great beyond and so forth, your eyes falling on a particular page and catching specific line.
âlive people ignore the strange and unusual.â
they do. wrongfully they do.
and since people had been ignoring you out of fear your whole life⌠did that mean you were strange and unusual too?
âwhat?â the unknown man spoke, softly as his blue gaze switched between your solemn expression and the book, shifting his position to stand right next to you and see what you were looking at.
âoh sorry!â you laughed it off, closing the book and placing it down. ânothing i was justââ
ââlive people ignore the strange and unusual?ââ he repeated. âwhat about it?â
you shook your head and sent him a small smile. ânothing! i was just lookingââ
âjust because you can see spirits doesnât mean youâre strange or unusual.â
you stilled, eyes big as you watched the way he froze up over what he said, sheepishly relaxing after a moment and lifting an arm to pat over your head.
âsorry pretty. i can read and manipulate minds and i poked in yours...â he looked at you apologetically. âitâs another reason why they threw me in this shit hole.â
he dropped his hand then, a sincere glint in his eyes. âbut i mean it.â
âi donât knowâŚâ you mumbled, looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt. âiâve never really had friends because of it⌠and i feel like that book kind of confirmed what iâve been thinking.â
you quickly picked your head up. âoh butâ itâs okay! iâm okay iâm used to it spirits are nicer anyways and iâve always been alone soââ
âthatâs not true.â he mumbled.
your brows furrowed. âwhat do you mean?â
he funnily froze up again. âwhat do i mean what?â
âwhatâs not true?â
âoh! thatâ that spirits are nicer!â he quickly sputtered. âtheyâre assholes. all of them. every single one. including me!â
you giggled at his franticness and a smile spread across his face at that, endearing as he watched you slowly cheer up.
âpeopleâs ignorance doesnât define who you are sweets.â he spoke gently. âso donât give them that right. you look perfectly fine to me!â
your eyes softened, wondering what the hell this man did that made the caseworkers down in the netherworld ritual him into a contract, as you were convinced it wasnât even that bad at all and just straight up unfair, him being one of the kindest and silliest souls youâve probably ever had the privilege to come across.
âiâll help you.â
his eyes snapped to yours. âhuh?â
âiâll help you!â you spoke sweetly. âiâll say your name three times so you can leave the attic.â
âwhaâ really?!â he exclaimed excitedly, hands animatedly flying everywhere as they went from digging into his white locks to all over his suit and then thrown out to grip over your shoulders, shaking you as you giggled again. âholy shit will you actually?!â
âyeah! why not?â you grinned. âi donât think itâs right that youâre stuck up here all alone.â
âangel! angel! youâre an angel!â he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and stuffed your face into his chest, squishing you so fucking tight and honestly holding you way longer than he shouldâve, but you not minding one tiny bit as you hugged him back and smoothed a comforting friendly hand over his broad shoulders.
âwhatâs your name then?â you muffled against his suit. âso i canââ
âahhh fuck.â he muttered. âi forgot about one thing.â
you pulled back a little. âhm?â
âi canât tell you my name.â
âwhat?â you looked at him confusedly. âwhat do you mean? why not?â
âitâs part of the stupid contract sweets...â he sighed heavily. âbut i can give you clues! ooo!â like charades! ready?â
âoh! oâokay!â you nodded, him finally letting you go and stepping back.
âdonât freak out.â he grinned in a silly way. âiâm about to make things show up.â
your eyebrows furrowed. âmake things show up?â
he waved his hand and a life sized fucking black bug appeared out of nowhere, landing on one of the old wooden rocking chairs in the corner of the room as it wiggled its little legs and peered around, you screaming and flying behind the strange blue eyed man while he laughed loudly and looked over his shoulders for you.
âitâs okay! just a figment of your imagination is all.â he cheesed. âbut guess now!â
âguess what?!â you shrieked.
âwhat that is!â he pointed to the bug.
you peeked an eye out from his side, the bug still gross and horrifying as it wiggled itâs antennas.
âa bug!â
âwhat kind?â
âa beetle!â
âyes!â he nodded vigorously. âokay thatâs the first part!â
âyour name starts with beetle?!ââ
he waved his hand again and the bug disappeared, a carton of orange juice replacing it instead and floating in mid air, a shiny glass cup next to it as you amazedly watched it pour its bright orange contents into the cup without spilling a single drop.
ââŚorange juice?â you spoke softly, timidly coming around from behind him. âyour names beetle orange juice?â
ânot quite!â he made a drinking motion with his hand.
âbeetle drinking orange juice?â
he laughed. âno! youâre adding too many words pretty take some out.â
âbeetle drinking juice?â
ânope.â
âbeetle drinking orange?â
âcolder.â
âbeetlejuice?ââ
âyes!â he threw his hands out, eyes wild and excited. âyes that! and youâve already said it once now just two more timesââ
âbeetlejuice.â
âuh huh uh huhââ
âbeetleâ mmph!â
a pair of hands clasped over your mouth from behind you and pulled you back, you letting out a muffled scream as you thrashed and quickly pried their fingers away, you spinning around and fully expecting to see rin behind you with a shit eating grin and laughing in your face for scaring you.
except it wasnât rin.
it was the maitlands.
âdonât say his name honey.â barbara spoke first. âtrust me⌠donât.â
âi meanâ are we sure about this sweetheart?â adam looked at his wife. âmaybe he isnât all that bad⌠hell we donât even know for sureââ
barbara shook her head. âadam, did you not hear a word juno said? he was about to take advantage of that poor girl!â
take advantage?
you heard a scoff behind you and you turned around, a disgruntled and pissed off look on beetlejuiceâs face as he crossed his arms.
âjeez i know you donât like me but thatâs low.â he mumbled. âi wouldnât do something like that.â
your head turned back to barbara. âyou know who juno is?â
she nodded. âjunoâs our caseworker⌠we got assigned to her in the netherworld after we died.â
âtook us three months waiting in the waiting room until she finally got to us.â adam added, chuckling in humorous disbelief. âbut all she really did was nag at us and warn us about him.â
adam pointed behind you and you turned around again, beetlejuice bitterly looking to the side with his lips pursed.
oh god.
had he been feeding you nonsense this entire time?
âwarn about what.â you mumbled, and beetlejuice snapped his head in your direction with anxious eyes.
âjuno calls him a bio-exorcist.â barbara informed you. âhe tried to illegally cross over to the land of the living and bring himself back to life.â
your eyes bulged open. âback to life? how?â
âyou switch souls with someone else through a ritual.â adam piped in. âjuno says he attempted to trick and switch souls with somebody that was alive so he could terminate all who were living⌠and they didnât even know about it.â
âthatâs not true!â beetlejuice countered, utterly exasperated. âthe old hag made that up!â
he quickly walked towards you, taking your hands in his and looking at you pleadingly.
âplease sweets youâve gotta believe me i never wanted to kill anybodyââ
you ripped your hands away and glared. âso this entire time youâve been lying, playing some hopeless victim so you can poke into my head and find out shit about me to use to your advantage?ââ
âno! no iâ i havenât been lying about anything itâs juno!â
âjuno.â you repeated coldly. âand whatâs she lying about exactly.â
âabout killing the living!â he threw his hands out in emphasis. âshe literally pulled that out of her ass when her and her minions banned meââ
âand what about tricking that person to switch souls with you so you can come back?â
he faltered, words completely failing him and guilty eyes looking into yours so deeply that it nearly made you feel bad for yelling at him.
âthatâs⌠thatâs true.â
you let out a breath of disbelief and barbara put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and comfortingly as she looked at you with caring eyes.
âwe donât know what to believe either honey.â she began. âitâs a lot of he said she said⌠but itâs better to be safe. he tried to get us to say his name three times too in exchange for his help.â
you quirked a brow. âhelp? what do you guys need help with?â
âyour buddies downstairs.â adam sighed. âtheyâre stealing our things and just messing up the house⌠but weâve been watching you and we know youâve been trying to get them out and so have we⌠horrendously though.â
âoh my godââ you slapped a hand over your gaping mouth. âi totally forgot about them! iâm so so sorry oh my god i canât even begin to explain to you how embarrassing this is iâve been telling them to stopââ
barbara laughed and waved you off. âitâs alright! we know sweetheart. but weâre not frightening enough to scare them off whatsoever⌠so thatâs what we were trying to get his help for.â
âand i still can yâknowâŚâ he muttered. âeven though you hate me.â
âi donât hate you juno does.â she crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one side of her hip. âadam and i are lost we donât know whatâs going on and we canât even read that thing for the recently deceased.â
âweâre just trying to get them out of the house sonâŚâ adam finished off.
and in that moment you felt like you were the one responsible for this. that if you had bitched about it harder, even screamed at rin to get him to stop or damn near called the fucking cops on them so that this wouldnât be happening right now⌠the maitlands wouldnât have to suffer and struggle like this every waking day to protect their home and what rightfully still belonged to them even after death.
because the maitlandâs roaming around and producing shadows and figures and scaring the realtors and prospected buyers off wasnât just for shits and giggles⌠but to try and keep what was once theirs and feel a sense of normalcy for the life they once had.
that was their great beyond. their home.
âiâll get them to leave.â you smiled at barbara and adam. âi donât care if i literally have to start fist fighting with his friends this is so unfairââ
âwait! areâ are you sure sweets?â beetlejuice interjected worriedly. âyour boyfriendâs kind of nuts and i canât help you once you leave the atticââ
âiâm sure.â you mumbled, still bitter and annoyed at him. âcanât be anymore nuts than you basically trying to kill someone so you can prance around alive againââ
âi already apologized to the entire netherworld nation for that!â he argued. âbut if you ask me, if itâs so bad then they shouldnât have put the fucking instructions in the guidebook.â
âjuno says guidebook reveals to you what you want most.â adam spoke. âbecause barb and i didnât see a single page that had to do with that⌠mostly just tips on how to scare the living.â
beetlejuice closed his eyes exhaustedly and shook his head. âdoesnât matter. iâm not trying to trick anyone right now i just want to get out of this damn atticââ
he looked to you again. ââplease say my name three times pretty iâve poked in your boyfriends head and heâs looney i donât want you toââ
âiâll see you guys in a sec!â you walked over to the door and left a sputtering frustrated beetlejuice behind. âif nothing works iâll literally just take my boyfriends keys and drive the car down the hill, he freaks over that thingââ
your voice trailed off as you walked down the creaky stairs of the attic and down the hall of the second floor, the maitlands main bedroom coming into view as you tried to get a script together in your head as to what exactly you were gonna tell rin⌠but your footsteps quickening at the sound of loud yelling and laughing coming from inside the bedroom, sounds of glass shattering and moving furniture making you panic as you practically stumbled in from the doorway.
and your heart stopped, rin standing there with a crow bar in his hands that he got from who the fuck knows where, smashing multiple vases and porcelain jewelry cases and stuffing his pockets full of anything that looked shiny and valuable in his eyes, the mattress and blankets thrown over to the side and the mainlandâs things just completely ransacked as you took it all in.
ârin!â
he jumped and spun around, brows pinching upon seeing you standing there.
âwhat are you doing here? i thought you left?â
âwhat the fuck?!â you gestured to the broken shards on the floor and strewn about articles of clothing. âwhat the hell is wrong with you?!â
âcalm down babe itâs fine.â he turned and smashed another small jewelry case, you scoffing in response. âitâs all useless shit thatâs gonna dust overââ
âget out.â
he snorted. âuh huhââ
âiâm serious rin get out.â you spat. âall of you.â
âyeah like iâd listen to you.â he spoke harshly, eyes narrowed and sharp as he turned again. âgo wait in the fucking car or go homeââ
âiâm calling the cops.â
âwhat?!â
a series of protests and worrisome comments erupted in the air from the group, all thrown directly at a fuming rin as he chucked his crow bar to the sideâ it clattering on the wooden floor as he hastily trudged over to you and gripped your upper arm, yanking you with him and out of the room into the hallway by the stairs.
âwhat the fuck do you think youâre doing huh?â he spoke lowly and in your face. âembarrassing me in front of my friends like that?â
you shoved him off. âget out and find another building or iâm calling the cops rin.â
âyeah and if you do that iâm telling them youâre a shitty psychic medium so they can throw you in the shrink.â
your jaw dropped.
rin was being meaner than usual.
âwhy are you like this.â you mumbled. âi donât even know why iâm still with you youâre an asshole and youâre patheticââ
he got in your face again and grabbed your jaw, pressing you up against the railing of the staircase and damn near throwing you over as the edge of it dug into your lower back, your fingers gripping his arm and struggling to pull him away from you while his friends quietly gasped and silently watched in shock.
âpathetic? me?â he laughed humorously. âyouâre the one who doesnât have anything or anyone besides me and yet you still treat me like this you ungrateful bitchââ
ârin okay thatâs enough dude let her goââ
âyou wanna shut up? or do you wanna trade spots with her?â his fiery crazed eyes switched over to his friend, him only cowering under rinâs intense stare and shaking his head no, diverting his gaze and you still squirming and tugging for your freedom.
âgetâ off meââ
âor what?â he pushed you further back and your breath hitched, your feet off the ground now at this point as one of your hands shot out to grip the railing for support. âyou gonna call your ghost friends for help? go ahead i wanna see you do it you lyingââ
âbeetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!â
a thunderous roar broke out into the air, actual lightning and black smokey fog spreading over the ceiling and around you as rin instantly let you go and looked around, all of his friends in a pure state of fear and alarm as they lost sight of each other amongst the suffocating mistâ including you as you frantically tried to look for a clear path out, unable to decide if you regretted what you had just done.
ânever seen a man with such a power trip!â a booming voice echoed through the house that you quickly recognized to be beetlejuiceâs, the walls vibrating with each word. âseems to me like itâs all bark and no bite!â
âwhat did you do y/n?!â you heard rinâs distant yelling from somewhere you couldnât pinpoint, the air cold and prickling at your skin. âwho did you call?!â
âa god!â beetlejuice excitedly answered. âachilles preferably! wait actually heâs a demigod not aââ
âwho the fuck is achilles?!â
the air cleared in the center suddenly and revealed a petrified rin, wide eyed and angry as he whipped his head around to try and figure out what was going on.
âyou donât know who achilles is?â half of beetlejuice popped out of nowhere from above the fog and his friends screamed at the mere size of him, for he wasnât the normal looking man you saw before but a borderline monsterâ huge and crazed as he looked down at rin in particular with a scary grin.
but his eyes were still a fascinating sparkling blue, oddly familiar in a way as you watched the scene before you through the black air, beetlejuice continuing.
âread a book your stupid is showing.â
he lunged while simultaneously popping his eyeballs out of their sockets with his tongue out, cartoonish and terrifying as his friends yelled for help and scrambled to try and leave, struggling though the smothering mist as you placed a hand over your mouth in shock.
beetlejuice sucked his eyeballs back in and blinked to adjust. âwhat? you guys scared too? shouldnât have been so mean to my little sweets over there then!â
they all looked to you and you froze, rinâs gaze narrowing.
âhis little sweets?â he clenched his jaw. âthe hells he talking about?â
beetlejuice didnât know why rin was so dumb for even attempting at getting near you again after everything he did and saidâ his footsteps quick and stompy towards you until he straight up smacked into an invisible wall and doubled back with a hand over his nose, your brows pinching in confusion.
you timidly reached a hand out, expecting your fingers to touch an invisible barrier except there wasnât one at all as they fell through completely over nothing, your arm slowly retracting back to your chest.
you looked up at beetlejuiceâs huge figure, and he gave you a bright cute smile that made your cheeks heat up.
âthis is bullshit!â rin roared, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and pointing at you after. âyouâre a goddamn nutcase y/n! what kind of show are you putting on huh?!â
âme?!â you shot back. âmaybe you should stop being a dick for once in your life and listen when i tell you things you idiot.â
âyup!â beetlejuice quipped. âdoll if youâre still with him after all of this iâm gonna have to start haunting you in your dreams.â
your gaze switched to beetlejuice and you laughed, a little glint to his eye as he watched you shake your pretty head.
âi was gonna dump him the minute i got him out of the houseââ
âwhat?!â rin barked. âdump me? for what?!â
you scoffed. âare you serious? what do you mean for what?â
âfuckâ babe okay iâm sorry alright? iâm sorry iâm just a little overwhelmed right nowââ
âyouâre a sack of shit.â beetlejuice spat. âand call her babe again and iâll start the engine of your car and ram it through a tree.â
you snickered and rin swiveled around to face him.
âwhy donât you stay out of this freak and leave my girlfriend aloneââ
âsweets iâll make him go away if you marry me.â
you choked, flustered and stiff as you looked at him, bewildered out of your mind.
âhuh?!â
âpretty pleeaaseee.â he dragged. âyou saying my name got me out of the attic but not the house itself⌠but if you marry me iâm a free man!â
âhow does thatââ you let out a shocked breath. âhow does that even make senseââ
âmarry me.â
âbut i!ââ
âmarry me thatâs my condition.â
âhold on!ââ
rin dove at you with the full intention to grab you and pull you away, but eyes widening in terror as an invisible force practically grabbed his ankle and sweeped him back and away from you, dragging his body across the wooden floor and over to beetlejuice, his friends having enough of all of this and making a run for it down the stairs.
âoh! i almost forgot about you guys!â
beetlejuice nudged his head and they were sent flying back just like rin, all of them screaming and pleading for mercy as their bodies dragged across the floor and returned to him.
âwhich of you should i gobble up right now⌠iâm feeling the one on the far right! heâs trembling like a little leafââ
âplease no!â he cried. âiâllâ iâll do anything! iâll leave iâll neverââ
ââand iâll save rin for the very end⌠best for last right?!â
they all wailed and clawed at the foggy air, your body unmoving as you tried to figure out if beetlejuice was actually being serious.
âplease man!ââ
âiâm sorry iâm so sorry!ââ
âdonât apologize to me you doofuses.â another invisible force grabbed them all by the ankles and pulled them up, dangling them upside down. âapologize to her. then maybe iâll spare you⌠howâs that sound?!â
ây/n! please! iâm sorryââ
âweâre sorry dear god!ââ
ây/n!ââ
âputâ put them down!â you wavered. âthatâs enough itâs okay! jesus..â
âawww already?!â beetlejuice pouted. âbut i havenât even started swinging them around yet⌠like a little ferris wheel! heh.â
you slapped a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh once rin and his friends started wailing in fear again, you shaking your head and smiling at him.
âitâs okay! next time! just let them go iâm sure theyâll runââ
ây/n, it seems like you understand me⌠youâre the only one that hasnât bitten my head off in the entire three years that iâve been dead!â
you laughed again. âiâm glad! now put them down pleaseââ
âso be my wife then.â
âbeetlejuice!â
âwhat?!â he whined. âyou donât wanna be my lawful wedded wife?â
âno!â wellâ justââ
âis it because iâm dead?â
âput them down and iâll consider it!â
âyes maâam!â
the invisible force dropped them and they slammed against the hardwood floors, each and every single one of them fumbling to get their things that flew out of their pockets while upside down and scurrying away, hurried footsteps stomping down the staircase as they tripped over their feet to get to and out the front door, you observing in amusement and slight guilt, leaning over the edge of the staircase to watch them go.
and the second that they did, the stuffy black fog lifted and felt immensely lighter, it dispersing into the air above you as it thinned out to a mere silly mist, cold and wet to the touch and similar to the air youâd feel after a long days worth of rainfall and cloudy weather, slow strides coming up from behind you as you saw beetlejuiceâs shiny raven leather dress shoes out of the corner of your eye, you standing upright and turning to him.
he smiled warmly at you.
âthank you.â you grinned, bashful as he reached and fixed up your hairâ hands smoothing over your head and down before his fingers lightly grazed and played with the ends of your strands.
âyouâre welcome.â he murmured. âthank you for getting me out of the attic sweets!â
you kindly nodded.
âsweetheart, are you alright?â
you looked back and saw the maitlands, barbara walking up with outstretched arms and pulling you in for a hug.
âthat boy was insane!â she pulled back and held you out at an arms length by the shoulders. âwe tried so hard to intervene while he was yelling at you but weâre useless⌠they couldnât see us.â
you giggled. âno itâs okay! really you didnât need to i wouldnât ever wanna put you guys in that position.â
âhoneyâ he almost pushed you off the railingâŚâ adam spoke softly. âif you hadnât called for beetlejuice lord knows what he wouldâve done⌠he was so aggressive and we were worriedâŚâ
your heart warmed, never in your life having been so cared for and looked afterâ funnily enough that you were receiving that sacred feeling from beings that were dead rather than living and it reminding you a little bit of the way your parents were with you when you were young, when they were still alive.
âweâre sorry for being so hard on you kidâŚâ barbara sighed, gaze shifting to beetlejuice. âmistakes happen. iâm sure your passing was something you werenât expecting like us.â
âoh! no itâs okay donât.â he smiled brightly. âi almost killed a man i understand.â
âbut we understand too.â adam added, and you felt like he was also referring to something you had no clue about as he had a particular look in his eyes, something that was only amongst them three. âi wouldâve considered the same.â
beetlejuice swung an arm around your shoulders and looked down at you.
âso are you my little wife?â
âokayââ barbara laughed. ânot that you know thisââ
âadam! barbara!â
a sudden shriek boomed through the house and beetlejuice instantly pulled you behind him, waving his hand and an invisible force sending you further away until your back gently bumped against the wall, panic rising in your chest as the same black fog from earlier returned and swirled around you, blocking your vision.
was he⌠was he hiding you? what for?
âjuno!â beetlejuice greeted, laughing awkwardly. âheyy long time no see!â
oh.
âzip it bozo.â
from the cracks and openings that you could see through the whirling wind, a proper old lady in professional office attire stood there with her arms crossed, a pissed off look on her face as she tapped her heel against the floor and played with the pearls around her neck.
âwhat did i tell you two about letting him free?â she scolded. âheâs a loose cannon! heâs not to be trusted!â
âi know i know weâre sorry⌠we just really needed to get those kids out! and theyâre gone! and beetlejuice seems alright!â barbara looked to her husband, a desperate flicker in her gaze. âright adam?â
âyes! uh uh!â adam stepped forward and sighed softly. âplease juno⌠heâs just a kid. heâs learned and what he did was three years agoââ
âwhat he did couldâve cost me my job and set my entire office up in flames.â juno lectured, pointing her wrinkly finger at beetlejuice next. âyou broke a million undead laws and have hundreds of violation codes on your record. your punishment was to stay in the attic for eternity.â
eternity?
oh god no.
âbut now iâm gonna have to send you to live inside mr. maitlandâs winter river model and you better stay there!â
âwhat?!â beetlejuice scoffed. âjuno please thereâs gotta be a way i can lift those violations?â
âiâm afraid there isnât.â she seethed.
âpretty please?â
âno.â
âwith a cherry on top?â
âabsolutely not.â
ânot even probation?ââ
ânot even probation! youâre gone!â
your eyes blew open as you watched juno extend an arm out and move it to the side, a bright white blinding light encasing her entire figure and you quickly pushed a hand through the black fog and grabbed the back of beetlejuiceâs suit, everything around you scarily blurring out and disappearing and you squeezed your eyes shut, arms reaching out to wrap around his upper torso as you buried your face in his back.
you didnât want him to go⌠not at all. and the thought of him stuck inside a model forever like that all alone terrified you.
you understood why he was punished in the first place, but why couldnât juno just see that he was good? that all he was trying to do was come back to life and live? something many others souls would also kill for?
hadnât he been punished enough already? he stood stuck in that attic for three god damn years straight with no means of escape whatsoever, and now he was shamefully being sent to live inside a styrofoam cardboard model that was far worse than that stupid attic, for now he couldnât be seen by anyone even if he truly wanted to be.
had that not been enough? enough of a sign to reconsider his contract?
why couldnât he just be given a second fucking chanceâ
âpretty?â
you opened your eyes, forehead quickly detaching from his back and looking up, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you worriedly from behind as he shifted his body a little in your hold to face you.
âwhat are you doing here i thoughtââ his surprised gaze shifted over to the way you were clutching onto him, and he relaxed, smiling a little.
âyou grabbed me baby?â
âiââ you let him go and stepped back, your cheeks a vibrant pinky shade. âyâyeahâŚâ
he turned around fully.
âwhy?â
âbecauseââ you bit your bottom lip, peering cutely up at him.
âbecause i thought we were getting marriedâŚâ
beetlejuiceâs expression dropped and he stared at you wide eyed, his face reddening at your words.
âi donâtâ i donât understandââ
âwhat?â you giggled. âi thought you proposed to me earlier?â
âi did! yes i did!â he rapidly nodded. âbutâ but are you actually serious?â
you nodded. âmhm! i am!â
âyou can say no sweets honestly itâs okayâŚâbeetlejuice spoke softly with pinched brows. âiâll cry myself to sleep and shrivel up but i can handle it donât worry about meââ
you laughed and nudged his shoulder with yours. âi wanna marry you⌠i wanna set you free.â
you walked over to a little bench, the feeling of you stepping on rubber and glue a little weird under your feet as you sat down and smiled, gently patting the spot next to you.
âiâm not letting you stay here forever by yourself, not when youâve been doing that already for years.â you murmured, him taking a seat next to you with a yearn-full but apprehensive face.
âyou deserve to do the things you want to do and see the things you want to seeâŚâ you looked at him so sincerely and loving that he felt his undead heart throb. â⌠and if i can help you in anyway to get you there i donât care what it is. i canât think of anyone more deserving of freedom than you.â
âyouâre so pureâŚâ he softly took your hand, yours warm and pumping in comparison to his cold and stiff one. âyou always have been.â
he stared at your hand still, his index finger delicately tracing over the faint markings of your working veins underneath your skin, trying to remember what they looked like on him when he was alive, and if they ever looked as precious as yours did.
beetlejuice raised your hand and kissed it, eliciting a fuzzy blush to your cheeks.
âi think weâre meant to be.â
you faltered slightly, for you felt a rush of deja vu hit you like a stifling wave.
âhave we met?â you teasingly asked. âbefore you died?â
he laughed and shook his head.
you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, beetlejuice still tracing the lines and indentations of your hand before you spoke up again.
âi have a question.â
his content eyes switched to yours before they looked back down. âyes sweets?â
âis your name really beetlejuice?â
he weirdly stopped, and you quirked a brow.
âitâsâŚâ he swallowed. âitâs not.â
âoh what the?â you paused, a little puzzled. âwhere did it come from?â
âjuno.â he snickered. âthe old hag said it fit how bizarre and stupid i was, so she put it in my contract.â
âoh my fucking god.â you mumbled. âwhy the hell would she do that? thatâs cruel⌠youâve already paid the price for what you did the least she could do is address you by your given name.â
beetlejuice laughed cutely, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you.
âthat woman doesnât care baby⌠so donât sweat it.â he lifted a hand and ruffled your hair. âand if you ask me, she needs to retire immediately. likeâ yesterday. all she does is fucking nag at me and the rest of her damn clients.â
you giggled.
âso whatâs your name then?â
ânot important! now i say we figure out a way to get out of this rinky dink modelââ
your eyes narrowed.
âwhy wonât you tell me your name?â
ââor maybe we should just stay and make ourselves at home!ââ
âyou wonât tell your soon to be wife your name?ââ
ââoh! oh! i can manifest a little jacuzzi in the middle of the cemetery thatâs neatââ
you slapped a hand over his mouth and he stopped, your pleading little eyes making him guiltily melt against your hold.
âyour name.â you urged softly, lowering your hand and revealing a little frown that he had on his lips. âplease.â
âiââ he blinked, utterly remorseful. âi canât⌠i canât tell you my name.â
your brows pinched. âwhy not? is part of your contract?â
ânoâ well yes.â he sighed deeply through his nose, and you wondered why he looked so⌠strained.
âitâs not their contract, but my contract⌠with you.â
you froze.
âwithââ you struggled. âi donâtââ
he rubbed his tired sunken eyes.
âitâs okay sweets but thatâs all you need to knowââ
âno.â you replied firmly. âwhat i need to know is your name.â
he dropped his arms and shook his head desperately. ây/n please i put that contract on you to protect you ifâ if i tell you my name youâll be hurt and i donât want thatââ
âwhat do you mean?â you bitterly scooched away from him on the bench and he stubbornly moved closer, eliminating the distance you had created.
âi lied when you asked me if we had met.â
your heart dropped.
âbecause we have⌠and iâ i wanted you to forget me so i took away your memories and if i tell you my nameââ
he swallowed hard.
â⌠itâll break the contract. and youâll remember me again.â
you stared at him, his regretful tortured gaze so anguishing that it was almost unbearable to watch him endure it, wanting to mend it instead, something that already felt so right and easy to you and in no way shape or form unfamiliar.
slowly, you reached up and cupped his cold cheeks in your hands, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.
âbut i want to remember youâŚâ you murmured. ââŚplease let me.â
his pupils worriedly shook as they darted all around your striking features, his name practically hanging off the edge of his tongue but his throat physically unable to get the words out, for his dead heart was pulling and fighting with his vocal chords to prevent him from doing so, everything within him wanting to save you from memories he had to live with even after death.
but the other part of him was filled with such intense longing for you that it effortlessly slipped between the cracks of his defensive wall of not telling you his nameâŚthe relentless feeling going straight to his heart and mind and strangling the fuck out of it to get a formidable yes instead.
he wanted the life he once had. more than anything.
âsatoru.â
something snapped in your brain and you flinched back, memories flooding through your mind faster than the speed of light as you recollected each and every moment in your existence, for the sentiment of vacancy and like a specific thing was just missing in your life was finally put back in its rightful placeâ for the thing that was missing in particular was him.
satoru gojo.
there were images of meeting him when you were both itty bitty in middle school under a magnolia tree, him sporadic and silly and making you laugh so hard on the third day of school that strawberry milk blew out of your nose and all over his clothes, satoru not having a care in the world as he cackled along with you and thought the way you made liquid come out of your nose was cool.
and there were images of the both of you becoming the best of friendsâ never one without the other as you pulled pranks on your teachers and ended up in detention together almost everyday, your parents utterly done with you as you never seemed to get it through your head how to behave, the both of you brushing off your scoldings and lectures because you had each other to endure all of it with.
and you saw how much he cared about you.
how he would physically fight and yell and reprimand anyone who called you a freak, anyone who spread rumors about you and your psychic medium abilities as he constantly reminded you everyday that your gift was sacred⌠a treasure while he wiped your tear stained cheeks and cheered you up after another day of your classmates poking fun at you, him saying that your skills were the coolest and how much he wished he was just like you, how much you both were meant to be as he loved ghost stories and scary stuff.
you saw how you fell in love too.
and it didnât take long either, as your stolen glances and teasing turned into much more as soon as you grew and went to high school together, the both of you making it official literally your freshman year despite the apprehensions from your parents on both sides because of how young you were.
but it never proved to be an issue, you and satoru not once stumbling over a hiccup since the two of you had built such a strong foundation of genuine friendship and care before you blessedly fell in love, satoru throughout your years together absolutely smitten over you as he always passed you silly notes during class that had a gazillion hearts scribbled all across with your name in the middle, telling you all of the time just how much he loved and cherished you to the point where you had to funnily push him away from you to get him to stop smothering you, you always giving in anyways due to the fact that you were just as smitten, physically unable to go a day without him, and him still physically unable to not iterate how you were meant to be.
satoru understood you, satoru listened to you, and satoru believed you whenever you would speak on your psychic gift and how you had spoken casually to a spirit just the other day, him always interested and unbelievably amazed at everything you had to say as he bombarded you with fifty questions and begged you to teach him how to see spirits too.
he was respectful and supportive of you through it all.
especially when your parents died.
satoru wouldnât leave your side. he refused to as you tried to piece together what the fuck had just happened, their accident so sudden and weird that it never made sense to you and still didnât to this day.
and you grieved of course, cried and weeped and clung to satoru like a moth to a flame, feeling alone and without your biggest support systemâ without your loving peculiar parents that gave you your priceless gift in the first place, him accepting your tears with open arms as he encouraged you to let it all out and was worried for you when it seemed like you had moved on rather quickly from it.
but it was simply because your parents werenât afraid of the afterlife. it was because your parents had talked so much about it and taught you everything that they knew, that you were convinced their souls peacefully made it through to the great beyond straight away and together, for you never saw their spirits roaming around aimlessly after and feeling eternally grateful for that, your whole life being about acknowledging and embracing the mysteries of life after death.
the knowledge of knowing they were at peace was enough to get you by for a little while.
satoru continued to check in on you about it though... even when it was the end of your junior year and nearing a year since their passing, his parents kindly taking you in after the ordeal and making satoru sleep on the floor and you taking over his bed since they didnât have an extra room, satoru doing it without even needing to be told and you thanking all of them any chance you got for their amicable kindness and tried to pay them back, satoru checking in on you every night with a series of timid âare you okayâsâ and âare you happyâsâ before going to bed, your arm dangling off the edge so you could intertwine your fingers while you slept.
you were never alone like you thought you were. ever.
because of satoru.
and he made it obvious that he wanted to marry you too, that he wanted to have you for the rest of his life and didnât give a single shit if you were both only 18 and barely starting college, him deeming it pointless for the both of you to pretend like the hope of marriage wasnât there just for the sake of shutting up his parents, as every time he brought it up you stammered and blushed and fidgeted and he only giggled at you, telling you it would happen soon, to be ready, and to sit pretty and patient until the right time came.
except it never did.
because satoru gojo died a year later following that on halloween, precisely on his way over to your dorm when he was snatched by an unknown man and murdered in the middle of the night, you stuck wondering what had happened to him and why he wasnât answering the phone when he was hours late to come get you, your chest on fire and aching as the feeling in your gut was weirdly excruciating, a part of you completely torn away and lost and you had no idea why until the very next morning.
and he had to watch you mourn. properly this time and not at all like the way you did for your parents, as this time it was fucking worse, painfully and all alone and for no way for him to get to you and comfort youâ to tell you it was okay to cry and that he loved you, to tell you to be happy, to be hopeful for the future and hopeful to the thought of spending the rest of your lives together and being meant to be.
but instead he had to watch you wail and scream in your pillow every night with no saving, clutching his clothes and things and picture frames, you making yourself sick as the grief was too much to bareâ everything that your parents had said to you and taught you about the afterlife meaning absolutely jack shit as the workings of supposed fate took away the only thing that ever made you happy.
satoruâs dream was to live with you. and it was taken away from him so brutally that he went absolutely nuts in the netherworld.
because yes he violated every single fucking undead law in the book and jumped over restricted gates and strange passage ways and doors, shoved through emotionless security guards, ignored junoâs warnings, and yes he tricked a living human being so he could exchange souls with himâ
all for the sole purpose of getting back to you.
it was always for you.
and now, him sitting next to you with an anxious waiting expression, your body and mind now feeling the effects of not having seen him for three entire years and the way your conscious mind grieved for him and his return, his skin sickishly pale and cold but still so handsome nonetheless⌠absolutely broke you.
it broke you as you let out a strangled hiccup and covered your mouth tightly with both hands, eyes squeezing painfully shut as you reeled over and wailed with a broken heart, for you were mourning the loss of him all over again.
âbaby no pleaseââ he quickly caught you and brought you to his chest, his breathing erratic and with the biggest lump in his throat. âsee? i didnât want you to remember iâ i wanted you to forgetâ
you continued to bawl and borderline scream out in agony, his words meaning absolutely nothing at this moment as your mind wouldnât quit flashing painful memories through your mind, memories that were once entirely missing as they suffocated you with displays of satoru in his grave over and over and over again.
âi canâtââ he frantically looked around for something, anything that would make you feel better before looking back down. âlook at meââ
âwhy did you leave?!â you wailed, pushing him away as the sight of you drowning in your tears ripped him to shreds. âwhy did you abandon me toru?! why did youââ
âiâm sorââ his voice gave out and he placed a hand over his heart, tears slipping from his eyes. âiâm sorry iâm so sorry iâ i never wanted to leaveââ
he reached out and tugged you in again, your body slumping against his as he struggled over his sobs.
âi didnât want to die i tried so hard not to dieââ
his words only made you cry harder as he gripped you tighter and shut his mouth, his frame trembling against yours and his tears trickling down and wetting your hair.
âyou left me! you were supposed to comeâ hicâ to come get me! you were supposed to marry me!ââ
you were babbling mindlessly at this point, your shattered heart taking over the words that were tumbling out of your mouth as you gripped and clawed at his suit, trying to bury yourself in his skin and stay there where you belonged.
he was too cold. and you couldnât hear a heart beat.
satoru could only cry and bawl with you as he gently rocked you side to side, knowing that there was nothing he could do to make you feel better, and nothing he could do to come back to life.
no matter how much he wanted it.
no matter how much you wanted it.
this is what fate had decided for the two of you.
âi tried so hard.â he mumbled. âi never stopped trying to get to you thatâs why juno hates me so much because iâve violated fucking everything.â
he pressed his lips to your forehead and laid his cheek on it after.
âi got sent to the attic and i couldnât look after you anymore and i didnât even get the chance to let you see me eitherââ
besides the fact that he took your memories, that explained why you never saw his spirit after he died, and you quickly pulled back again and narrowed your bloodshot eyes at him.
âwhy did you take my memories i neverâ hic!â i never asked you to i never wantedââ
âbecause i didnât want you to grieve over me prettyâŚâ he gently wiped your cheeks while you cried. âyou were hurting so much and it was torture watching you suffer like that.â
you sniffled and wiped your eyes with the base of your palm.
âi wanted to see you happyâŚâ satoru finished off.
âwas i?â
he dropped his hands and frowned.
âwere you?â
âno!â you muttered. âmy entire life iâve felt like something was missing and i didnât know why⌠like thisâ this block in my brain that i couldnât figure out and it was always just empty and like something was supposed to be there.â
you tucked your hair behind your ear and solemnly looked down, a pulsing headache racking through you from how much you were crying.
âi had to live with the fact that i was alone and that i never had anyone⌠and i had accepted that too⌠only this entire time i did have someone. you.â
and oddly enough, through everything that happenedâ all of the memories that you now remembered and the devastating death of your late boyfriend, you finally felt a little bit less strange and unusual.
because you always thought that something was wrong with you for feeling the way that you did, for craving somethingâ someone that never existed, for wanting to fill the void that you now know satoru once happily sat in, all of these things now officially clicking into place and bringing you the weirdest sense of peace you had probably ever felt.
âi wish you never made me forget.â you mumbled. âyouâre worth remembering toruâŚ. even if it hurts me.â
he guiltily nodded and sniffed. âmâsorry⌠i thought you were better off forgetting.â
a part of him still does, because the small glimpses he caught of you no longer crying and just simply living after he took your memories away, was enough to bring him a tiny sense of relief just before he got banished to the attic, hopeful that you would live a long and happy life even if it was painfully without him.
but the minute he sensed you coming up to the house earlier that night with him thinking he was going absolutely insane and if it was truly you, was also enough to send all of that out the fucking window and falling back into a pit of despair and longing for you when he finally saw you againâ for the first time in three years, looking just as pretty as he remembered and a little more grown up.
you slowly shook your head side to side, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck and him immediately responding, snaking them around your waist and pulling your warm beating body flush against his chest.
âdo you still love me?â he murmured. âeven though iâm dead?â
you slightly snorted, softly kissing his cheek.
âiâll always love you toru. wherever you are.â
âiâll always love you.â
he pulled back and gently smiled, eyes flickering to your soft lips as he juggled in his mind if it was okay to kiss you, every fiber of his undead being begging for it after missing and wishing it for so long, left with only recollections of your kisses to suffice through the years that he spent without you and wondering if he still had the right toâ since even though you were once his, and he shamelessly still considered you his, he didnât know if you were on the same page.
but you were.
it would be stupid not to be.
you leaned your pretty little face closer to his, timid doe eyed gaze looking at him so fondly that it brought back that same familiar feeling he felt with you those years ago, his hands coming up and settling themselves on your warm lively cheeks, holding you like fragile porcelain.
but were his dead lips still worthy of yours? even after everything heâd done?
âtoru.â
he hummed.
âdo you remember our first kiss?â
âuh huh.â he breathed out softly. âit was in my room.â
âi thinkââ your nose brushed with his. âi think we should have our second first kiss.â
he bit his bottom lip and smiled.
âyou think so?â
âi do.â
he hummed again, his thumb gently grazing over your plushy lips.
âi think it should look a little more like the first time.â
he tilted his head to the side a tiny bit and a delicate gust of wind brushed through your hair, your surroundings now completely and miraculously morphed into his room with the both of you sitting on his bedâ just like how you remembered it and basically had grown up in as you slowly took in your surroundings.
âhow the fuckââ
he laughed a little, lifting one hand and keeping the other still on your cheek, his index finger lightly tapping the center of your forehead.
âmind manipulation pretty.â he grinned. âcool huh? i poked in your head again.â
âyeah!â you giggled. âvery cool.â
âyou know what else would be cool?â
âwhat?â
âif you gave me a little kiss.â
you tilted your head to the side and leaned in again, your breath fanning across his face and your lips so close but not quite that it was fucking excruciating.
âyou want a kiss toru?â
âuh huh.â
âhow badâ mmph!ââ
satoru didnât even let you finish that sentence as he stuffed his tongue in your mouth greedily, wet and messy kisses smacking through the room as he cradled your jaw, cold lips delving all over yours and him giddy over the sensation of your warm mouth in comparison to his, your hands clutching his blazer and making out so sensually as you made up for the time that was stolen from you.
and the only thing the two of you felt in each others arms then was serenityâ one pumping, working heart and the other stiff, unmoving and cold, still equally beating for one another even through the restrictions of death, for satoruâs heart continued to move and love you regardless of how lifeless it may have appeared.
he suddenly pulled away, breathless.
âsweets?â
âyeah?â
âwhere in the actual fuck did you meet rin?â
you laughed, pulling back a bit to look at him with a regretful look. âknowing what i know now, iâm sick to my stomach toru.â
âdid you meet him after i died?â
you nodded. âhe was in one of my literature classes⌠and since back then i only remembered living my lifeâ alone, i guess he was the first person that didnât make me feel that way. at the start.â
âlame.â he mumbled. âyou cheated on me sweets.â
âno!â you laughed again, giving him a little pout. âhe was awful. horrendous. and i only stayed because i didnât wanna be alone again⌠even though i shouldnât have.â
you leaned and gave him a soft tiny lingering peck.
âdid you love him?â he murmured against your lips, and you shook your head.
âremembering you again made me realize what being in love with someone was supposed to feel like.â you reached and brushed through the front stands of his white hair mindlessly. âand it was no where near what i felt for rin. i didnât feel anything for him actually.â
he pursed his lips to the side, eyes squinting in thought and distaste.
âhmmmâŚâ
you giggled. âwhat toru?â
he hated that you got associated with a guy like that, and hated even more that rin was kissing and hugging and touching you whenever the fuck he wanted when you were his first.
âiâm gonna haunt him for the rest of his life.â
you playfully rolled your eyes and nudged him. âhonestly? do it. he sucks.â
âand you know what else sweets?â
you quirked a little brow. âwhat?â
âiâm gonna make you forget!â
âtoru!â you giggled. âno more taking memorââ
satoru leaned his face closer to yours and you froze up, wide eyed as a little mischevious glint in his vibrant blue gaze made you fidget.
he slowly grinned and tilted his head, lips coming closer to the side of your ear and tantalizingly hovering, arms snaking around your torso and pulling you up against him.
âdid you let him touch you pretty?â
âtâtouch?ââ
âmhm.â he gripped you a little tighter. âdid you?â
âum.â you squirmed a bit, your body turning hot in the matter of seconds. âwhatâ what do you meanââ
âdid you let him fuck you.â
your breath hitched and your cheeks went pink, hands timidly resting flat on his chest and feeling a little⌠guilty.
âmaybeââ you paused, shaky breaths blowing through your nose. âmaybe onceââ
satoru shot up to stand and hauled you with him, a squeal slipping past your lips as he hiked you up and brought your legs around his waist, walking across the room in quick strides and plopping you down roughly on his desk, kicking away his chair and it slamming against the wall as it rolled back.
âtoru?ââ
âwhy canât i make you forget⌠hm?â he grazed his lips from your jaw and up the side of your cheek, feather like as he squeezed and kneaded at your thighs, your heart fucking hammering against your chest.
âwhy would you wanna remember being with someone else other than me babyâŚâ
âiâ i donât but you erased my memoriesââ
he pulled back and tutted, head shaking and fingers drumming against your thighs. âdoesnât matter! shouldâve avoided them like the plague silly.â
you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him gently in.
âi wouldâve if i remembered.â
âremember this remember thatââ he smiled brightly and brought his face close to yours once more.
âyâknow what?â he cutely pecked your lips. âiâm gonna help you remember something!â
your brows pinched momentarily in curiosity. âwhat?â
âthat iâm the only man that ever gets to fuck you.â
satoru smashed his lips against yours and pulled you in tight, the bulge in his dress pants abundantly obvious as he grinded and rutted his aching cock on your clothed pussy, you gasping in his mouth at the feeling as you tried to keep up with his feverish fast kisses.
he slipped his icy hands underneath your top and you jumped at the change in temperature, satoru ravishing you up and obsessed with the heat your body produced and radiated, leaving him toasty for once and bringing a faux sense of life to him.
âdid you forget that too?â he murmured against your lips, hands ever so slowly creeping up and sliding under your bra to grope your plump tits. âhow i feel?â
ânuh uh.â you breathed out. âi didnâtââ
âtell me what you remember then sweetsâŚâ
he slid his hands back down and hiked your skirt up, you lifting your hips a little to help him bring it up as high as he possibly could, your pretty little panties tight and suffocating your pussy as his fingers came down to play with your swollen needy clit.
âi rememberââ your mouth hung open, words lodging in your throat.
âhm?â he shoved his hand in your panties and your eyes fluttered closed, him placing open wet mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, your mind unable to grasp the amount of pleasure he was getting out with simply just his fingers, pleasure you missed so fucking badly as he slipped his digits up and down your folds.
âyour dickââ satoru pushed two fingers inside of you and you whined. âi remember the way you felt.â
âyeah?â he pulled back from your chest and grinned, fingers squelching as they pumped in and out. âand how did i feel?â
âbig.â you choked out, legs spreading wider as you gripped the edge of his desk, his frenzied lust filled eyes drinking in the way you unraveled and crumbled before him.
something he was positive rin didnât even come fucking close to.
âaww.â he cooed, digits speeding up as you squealed and tried to close your legs, him prying them open again. âbet you missed the way i filled you full huh? stretched you out so good?â
you rapidly nodded, eyebrows contorted in ecstasy as your thighs shook.
âanything else you missed baby?â
arousal trickled down your folds at this point, making an absolute mess out of his fingers.
âyour handsâ heaveâ on my neck when youâd fuck meââ
a shiver ran down his spine at your words, his cock so fucking hard and aching as it begged him to let it spring free and bury itself in your hole.
âmy godâŚâ he whispered. âi bet your slutty little self wants me to fuck you right now right? stuff you up and make you cum on my dick like i used to?â
with each word your hole was clenching and screaming for his cock, your hands quickly shooting out to pull and unbuckle at his belt, him laughing as he continued to finger your pussy while loosening up the collar of his tie.
âyouâre so needy.â
you pouted, embarrassed as you pulled your hands away and brattily tugged at his wrist to take his fingers out.
âi take it backââ
âno!â he quickly yanked his belt off and flung it, his fingers unzipping his pants and taking out his solid dick. âhell no please i need to be inside youââ
he lined his cock up and without warning pushed, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for support and crying out at the mere size of him, his dick icy in between your gummy walls that somehow added a whole new wave of pleasure for you.
âhard toru.â you whined. âplease i canâtâ iââ
âi know baby i know.â he gripped your hips and snapped his hips up, your moans fueling him as he plunged in your hole and took no time in fucking you in just the way he knew you liked it, proud of the fact that your pussy still took every single inch of him like heâd trained youâ almost like she recognized whose dick was actually for you and not some other fucking morons.
âyouâre not screwing anybody else anymore, you hear me sweets?â he tapped your cheek to get you to look at him, you completely dazed and fucked out as you tried to hold eye contact with him amidst his drilling cock. âshouldâve only been me⌠living or dead i donât care.â
you nodded dumbly, you leaning and kissing him sloppily and desperately that you muffled his next words, refusing to detach from his mouth.
âdid youâ mmphâ let him cum inside?â
you didnât answer, not because you were afraid to, but because his dick was silencing you as you hiccuped and spasmed with every slam of his hips, satoru a horny goner and pinning everything all on you even when it was literally his fault he erased your memories in the first place, fuming over the thought of you tainted by another man that he wanted to perform a full fucking cleanse.
he rammed inside of you faster against the desk as you separated from his lips and clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
âdonât tell me you let him cum inside you little slutââ
âi didnât!â you heaved. âi didnât i didnâtââ
âgood baby!â he cheered, a complete contrast to his menacing tone from seconds before. âso you do love me.â
âi do! i love you i love you i love yoââ
his unbeating heart soared.
âyou love me?â
âuhâ hic!â uh huhââ
âeven when iâm dead?â
you nodded vigorously, feeling your orgasm starting to bubble up in your tummy as you choked and squirmed.
âperfect my sweet little thingâŚâ he cooed once more, him literally lightheaded over the way you clenched around his cock. âmake a mess all over me baby iâve been dreaming of your cute cunt for three fucking yearsââ
you wrapped your arms around him by the neck again and moaned, burying your face in his neck as he placed two palms on your bent knees and spread your plushy thighs further apart, jack hammering you and so mean about it as you shook violently against him and came, heaves and sobs of pleasure racking through your body as he threw his head back and groaned.
âyou want me to cum inside you?â he asked. âfill you up just like i used to?â
âyes! please pleaseââ
âoh fucking well.â
he pulled out of you and your eyes bulged open, his dick shiny and covered in your juices as he grabbed your upper arm and yanked you down on your knees.
âyouâre gonna suck me off and swallow what i give you for letting rinâs filthy hands on you.â
satoru tapped his dick against your cheek to get you to open up, you listening and opening your mouth as he shoved his cock inside and placed a hand on the back of your head, fucking your mouth as you choked and gagged on his length and loving every second of it.
âgoooddd baby.â he whispered, your slobbering so nasty as he watched drool dribble down your chin. âso goodâŚâ
you gulped him down and lathered your tongue around while he used you, his balls swollen and twitching and him needing to dump his cum in your mouth for you to swallow.
âremember when we used to do this every night?â he smiled wickedly. âwhen iâd make you swallow me up?â
you hummed around him and tried to nod, eager for his release and wanting to show him that you in fact did rememberâ wanting it just as bad as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him harder.
âhâ oh my godââ he fisted your hair and shivered, letting you take over and milk him for all his worth. âiâm gonnaâ jesus baby slowâ slow down slow downâ hah!â
satoruâs release shot to the back of your throat and you choked, blinking back tears as you gradually slowed your pace and continued to deliciously suck him through his orgasm and gulp down his cum, him with a death grip on the edge of his desk as he heaved and swallowed, hips jittery and twitching away from youâ tip now overly sensitive.
you licked up the last of his cum and stood back up, shimming your skirt back down and satoru shakily stuffing his softened dick back in his pants and zipping it, eyes softening once you reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his over your waist and squeezing you gently.
âso youâre telling me.â you began. âthat you havenât had sex in three years and you fucked me like that?â
he snickered and smoothed a hand over your back. âitâs my instinct sweets! and also because iâm sure rin did a horrendous freaking jobââ
you laughed and rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek before looking at him fully.
âiâm serious you know.â
he raised a brow. âabout what?â
âabout marrying you. even more so now.â
and just when he was about to pick you up and spin you around and jump up and down, he stilledâ face sickishly paling more than it already was.
because satoru was keeping something else from you⌠a condition between the living and the dead and one he overlooked entirely because he was selfishly desperate for you and just wanted you with him again, like the way he had you when he was alive.
âwhat toru?â
âhuh?â his eyes snapped to yours, and he quickly shook his head. âoh nothing nothing!â
his mind was frantically pushing it to the back, ignoring it and wanting to go through with the one thing heâd practically been dreaming of his entire living and dead lifeâ marriage with you.
this was fine. this was okay.
right?
âwhite or black.â
you tilted your head. âwhat?â
âyouâll see⌠but choose!â he grinned. âwhite or black?â
a slow giddy smile grew on your face.
âblack.â
satoru waved his hand and you stilled, the clothes on your skin changing and morphing into something completely anew, your eyes landing on his black and white button up suit now and head quickly dropping down to yourselfâ gasping once it registered in your flabbergasted brain.
you were wearing a black wedding gown, beautiful and classy as you picked up and felt the soft silk material between your fingertips, your tule sheer veil intricate as you looked behind you thenâ it long and stretching for what seemed like miles across the floor with gorgeous embroidery at the base of it.
it was heavenly.
your gaze snapped back to his, and he smiled fondly, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers.
âthree times.â he murmured, and you picked up on what he was referring to, tightening your grip on his hand and nodding.
âbeetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice.â
and the room spun around you, so astronomically fast that you almost doubled over in stifling nausea as the wind whipped through your hair and veil, expecting to land in the attic and finally outside that damn model when in reality, you were in a church cathedral as soon as your surroundings had stopped spinning⌠and one that looked exactly like the one in winter river.
âare weâŚâ you looked around. âare we still in the model?â
he shook his head. ânope! i was focusing my mind here when you were saying my name⌠weâre in winter river baby.â
you smiled, the atmosphere around you soft and serene as the dimly lit candles around you quietly flickered, a random lilac colored hue across the cathedral and one you assumed was placed by satoru himself as he took your hands in his, almost in a haste too, but choosing to brush the observation aside.
this was wrong⌠and satoru knew it.
but he pushed it to the back of his head again.
âwe are gathered here todayââ
âshit!â
you jumped and whipped your head to the side, breathing out and shoulders relaxing once you saw it was just your churchâs pastor that youâd known since birthâ a strange far off look in his eye that you deemed to be something that satoru did, for there was no way he was up at the crack of fucking dawn right now to do a wedding.
âsorry!â you laughed. âis he⌠is he okay?â
âoh yeah heâs fine! heâs actually still sleeping.â he let go of one of your hands and patted the pastors head. âiâm manipulating his head for a little bit. just until youâre my wife.â
his wife.
you nodded, cheeks so warm as you tried to refrain from jumping over how excited you were at the thought of finally fulfilling the vows you had placed on each other when you were youngâ them now nurturing into something real.
âdearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the love of satoru gojo and y/n y/m in holy matrimony.â
he shouldnât do this to you.
âtoday, they declare their intention to build a life together, sharing their joys and their challenges, and supporting one another in pursuit of their dreams.â
he canâtâ he canât build a life with you⌠can he?
he pushed his worries back again and gripped your hands tighter.
âdo you, satoru gojo, take y/n y/m to be your lawfully wedded wife? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?â
this is wrong.
but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
âi do.â
âand do you, y/n y/m, take satoru gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?â
for as long as you both shall live.
satoru canât live.
âi dââ
âstop.â
you froze.
âwhat?â you asked worriedly. âwhatâs wrong?â
âiâm no better than the man i was when i first died.â
the look in his eyes was⌠odd, and it only further confused you.
âi donâtââ
âi canât let you marry me baby.â
your heart dropped.
âwhat?â
âi told you that if you married me it would break my contract and i would be a free man and thatâs trueâŚâ he began. âbut thereâs something else that i didnât tell you... iâ i kept it from you.â
oh fuck.
âwhat are you talking about toru.â your voice was low and heedful, almost like a warning to him, and he wanted to slam his head against the wall for being so fucking reckless again.
âif youââ he breathed in and shook his head, letting go of your hands and letting his fall tight at his sides, balling up. âif you marry me, youâre freeing meâŚâ
he gnawed at his lip.
âbut iâm killing you.â
your blood ran cold and drained from your face, words entirely at a loss and useless as your brain tried to process what the fuck he just told you.
kill you?
âmarrying me is like exchanging your soul with the dead.â satoru slowly shook his head. âyouâll die sweets⌠i canâtâ i canât do that to you.â
satoru was desperate to for you, so much so that he was willing to hide such a detrimental part of the marriage clause until the time came, choosing to play freaking stupid and tune it out in the hopes that in the end, he would be brave enough to go through with it just to keep you and not ever have to say goodbye again.
but it was wrong. so incredibly immoral and wrong and he felt like a monster for even trying to do it, for letting it go as far as it did and have you standing there in front of him in your pretty gown and veilâ just like how heâd imagined it when his blood was pumping and his heart was beating, and just like how heâd imagined it even now, shriveled up dead veins and all.
this is what fate had chosen for the two of you.
and though it took forever for satoru to accept it⌠you and him were simply not meant to be.
for you were meant to live, and satoru was meant to die.
âyou disgraceful bafoon! you insolent crook!â
the big doors of the cathedral kicked open and juno walked through, adam and barbara maitland running behind her and trying to pull her back, the both of them spouting reasonings and explanations.
âthis is her choice juno!ââ
âshe wants to let her do it!ââ
âthe kidâs just in love!ââ
âbutton it or iâm sending you back to the house!â juno grumbled at them, turning back around and pointing menacingly at satoru once she reached you both, her brittle old lady perfume wafting in your nostrils.
âjuno!â satoru greeted with faux cheerfulness, eyes wide and alarmed. âgood to see you hah! you look livelier than the last time i saw yââ
âwhat the hell do you think youâre doing boy?â she spat, eyes switching to you next. âand you! young ladyâ this man is a spirit!â
âiâi knowââ
âjuno they know each other.â barbara spoke up gently. âthey grew up together when he was alive.â
âyes they were in a relationship this isnât him trying to trick her into anythingââ
âno but it is.â satoru exhaustedly whined, cutting adam off as he ran his hands through his snowy hair. âshe didnât know about the clause⌠i just told her now.â
silence.
âyou didnât tell her about the clause?!ââ
âare you out of your mind you cockroach?!ââ
âyouâre doing what you did before!ââ
âi know!â satoru exclaimed over the yells of scolding and belittlement. âi know i know thatâs why i told her just now⌠iâm not letting her do it iâ i couldnât.â
he turned to you.
âbaby i want you. i need you and thatâs why i didnât say anything like a fucking dingbat because iâm tired of living forever without you... it sucks.â
you felt tears prickle at your eyes.
âbut this isnât fair to you at all. you deserve to live man⌠i canâtâ i wonât drag you down with me.â
âtoruââ
âthe living and the dead were never meant to coexist.â juno interjected, her gaze looking at satoru sincerely for once that it was a strange sight for him.
she placed a hand on her chest. âiâm sorry that your love was separated by death, truly. i sympathize with you. i canât think of anything more cruel.â
you both solemnly nodded.
âbut the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.â she repeated. âso even though you two move on from this and go back to being what you are, satoru will stay like this and you will not. you will grow.â
juno addressed you directly and you listened with a heavy heartâ the use of satoruâs actual given name now from her instead of âbeetlejuiceâ adding a layer of somber seriousness.
âand letâs just say this clause didnât exist and you get to marry her and she stays alive⌠satoru will still stay and you will grow. do you both understand what iâm trying to say?â
you quickly wiped the corner of your eyes, satoru peeking over at you sadly.
âi wonât tell you what i think the right choice is young lady.â she continued. âthe dead arenât even supposed to associate with the living like this⌠but weigh the consequences of either path and see which one you want to walk in.â
she stepped a bit closer, holding eye contact with you.
âbut let me make one thing clearâ the power of the living is greater than the dead. if you choose to marry him, you will break his contract forever and free him of his violations. but if you do, you will die and be one of us.â
either path is difficult.
to sacrifice his freedom, or to sacrifice your life?
but you knew that a life without satoru was nothing and bleakâŚ. you had lived it for three years.
were you willing to return to that? just to keep your heart beating? and say goodbye to satoru for good?
you didnât want to live in a world that didnât have him in it. you didnât want to live in a world where you remembered satoru for longer than youâd known him, and the thought only made you absolutely sick to your stomach as you envisioned the rest of your life without the person who knew you best.
it was almost easy⌠you didnât have to weigh the consequences at all.
your path was satoru.
âweâre getting married.â
âwhat?!â satoru frantically shook his head. âno sweets no weâre not.â
âyes we are.â you pushed. âthis isnât for you to decide itâs my choice and i choose youââ
âand iâm not letting you.â he countered. âyouâre choosing wrong so unbelievably wrongââ
âbut iâm not though!â you argued. âliterally explain to me right now how me stuck in a world that doesnât have you in it is better thanââ
ây/n you need to live.â he cut you off. âi died, not you itâs not supposed to be you alright? i canât to let you do this.â
tears slipped from your eyes and you wiped them right away.
âdo you notâ sniffâ do you not want me do you want me to go away whatââ
ânoâŚâ he stepped forward and cupped your cheeks. âthatâs the last thing i want and you know thatâŚâ
âthen why wonât you marry me?â you hiccuped. âwhy wonât you let me stay with you?â
âbabyâ life is so unbelievably precious.â he moved strands of your hair away from your face. âdo you have any idea what i would give to have it again? to feel my body actually working for a change instead of it just being nothing?â
you continued to cry, your hands clutching his wrists.
âi donât want you to take that away from yourself because of me⌠i want you breathing. i want your little heart pumping and your cheeks warm, i want you to move on.â
âiâ hic!â i donât want to move on from youââ
âyou have to sweets.â he quickly wiped his eyes before cupping your cheeks again. âweâre not meant to be baby and i hate so much that we arenât⌠and iâm sorry.â
âtoru stop itââ
âplease live for me okay? for the both of us. and donât forget me either please donât forget meââ
âwhy are youââ you harshly wiped your eyes. âwhy are you talking like that what are you doingââ
âi donât think i should be around you anymore baby.â
âhuh?!â your eyes narrowed. âare you serious?â
âsatoruââ
juno raised a hand, stopping barbara from interjecting.
âit wonât be good for either of us if i stick around...â he sniffled. âi need to stay away from you because if i donât, i might try to trick you again into giving up your soul and i canât have that.â
âmy soul?â you spat. âtake it i donât want it without you i told you alreadyââ
âplease try to understand.â he placed a soft kiss to your forehead. âplease.â
ânoââ
âiâll see you soon okay?â satoru let go of your face. âgraduate please. have kids and get married and stuff⌠travel.â
you were supposed to do all of that with him.
âsatoru no listen to me!ââ
âi love you.â
âstop!ââ
satoruâs grief was monumental, but his love for you was greater, choosing to let you go for the sake of your life.
he looked to juno and she sighed through her nose, somehow knowing exactly what he was silently asking for, stepping forward and lifting a hand.
âsatoru please i wanna stay with you!ââ
juno sharply moved her hand to the side and you were pulled to a blinding white abyss, dream like and fuzzy as you felt all muscles in your body relax, your mind completely blank and free of the heartbreak and loss and sorrow for a little, floating through a cloud of soft serenity as it brought you in and tried to clear the pain in your heart.
you werenât aware of where you were or what juno had done, but your thoughts were distant and muffled as you let it engulf you entirely in its welcoming arms, you sleepy and drowsy until the blinding white abyss slowly shrunk down to a pure black, quiet void, the nerves in your body twitching little by little until you were finally consciously aware of your limbs and mind, but you too tired still to open your eyes.
you cruelly dreamed of satoru still. of him alive.
and you werenât sure how long you had been in this weird pit of tranquility, or how long you were asleep for until you were jerked awake and ripped from it entirely.
âheyâ y/n?â
you shot awake, sitting up and whipping your head around.
you were back in your dorm.
âare you okay? why are you sleeping on the floor?â
you looked up, your roommate standing there with a weirded out expression.
âand what are you wearing?â
your gaze shifted downward, and the minute you saw your black wedding dress and veil folded neatly next to you, memories of what had happened hours prior came achingly flooding in as you scrambled to stand up on your feet, scaring your roommate and leaving her to grumble in her head about how she wished the system didnât put her to room with the campus ghost girl.
âsorry! i have to go thank you though for waking me uââ
your voice trailed off down the hall, you running through and ignoring the weirded out looks from other students as you sprinted out of the building and down the street, engulfing the skirt of your gown up in your arms so you wouldnât accidentally trip over it and eat shit on the ground, the goal of getting back to the maitlandâs house the only thing on your mind as you ran.
your lungs burned by the time you got to the bottom of the hill, and you thanked anyone that was willing to listen for allowing winter river to exist as the smallest town you had ever known, sparing you from running a full fledged marathon just to get to the house as you heaved and tried to catch your breath, a little sweaty and hot as you began the hike up the hill.
you hoped he was there.. in the attic.
you hoped to god that he was.
reaching the top, you continued to trudge across the dirt driveway and up the porch steps, your foot lifting and just about to make contact with the old wooden platform until and invisible force grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, literally dragging you away from the house and down the hill over the grass as you screamed and thrashed for it to let you go.
satoru.
and you tried again, hiking up the hill with your bundled up wedding skirt in your arms, reaching the top faster than last time and choosing to run up the porch steps instead to see if you could outrun his ghostly abilities.
except you couldnât, because the invisible force caught you by the ankle again just as your fingers grazed the doorknob, yanking you away and down the hill until it left you screaming and huffing in frustration at the bottom.
you continued to do that for the rest of the fucking day, and everyday for that matter, for an entire week straight.
walking up the hill, reaching the top, getting reeled back, running up the hill and getting sent back down again, sprinting for it only to get dragged away once more as the repeated cycle you had set for yourself happened over and over, until by your last attempt you couldnât even walk up the hill anymore, satoru having put a huge invisible wall around the house that was impossible to get through.
you were angry. angry and bitter that he was doing this.
was it so bad to just want to spend the rest of your undying life with him? is that not what he wanted this entire time? why was he so adamant on damning you to live a life of suffering andâ and loneliness? a life without him?
you didnât know what to do. your psychic abilities were only for sensing the dead and being able to see themâ nothing to do with calling forth spirits or summoning them at any given place and time, so there was no way for you to call satoru no matter how much you wanted to or tried.
and you cried. you cried and you sobbed just like how you did when he first died, except somehow worse knowing that there was a chance to be together with him forever and him not wanting it⌠not wanting you.
but you waited anyways, hoping that he would come around and change his mind, that he would bring down that stupid invisible wall and let you inside the house and back to him, counting down the days and hours and minutes until it became clearer to you that satoru wasnât going to change his mind.
and by the third week, you had almost entirely given up.
you felt nothing. absolutely nothing as you slugged through your classes or your day to day errands, not giving a shit about anything that you had to do in this world for you had always loved the other world moreâ the world of spirits and the netherworld and the great beyond, the world that had satoru in it, as you appreciated and admired that one more ever since you were a kid with your parents⌠more than the one you were currently inâ as this one was filled with ignorance and criticism.
you felt helpless⌠and maybe satoru was right.
if he was willing to give up an opportunity to keep you forever, then maybe thatâs just the way it goes⌠maybe you should just accept it, and you choosing to think of the latter instead of begging and kneeling at nothing for satoru to come back and get you and marry youâ was helping the bitterness in your heart grow and get you by, it at least stopping you from crying in the middle of your lectures or the grocery store and weirding people out anyways.
maybe you should accept the fact that you and him were not meant to be.
after an entire month, you had given up.
and satoruâs grave was the closest you knew youâd get to him, permanently divided by dirt and soil and grass⌠six feet under and totally out of your reach, his tombstone engraved and pretty and one you couldnât believe you had forgotten about as it sat here alone for years right under your noseâ you visiting it now for the millionth time as you placed your book bag down and sat criss crossed on the grass, mindlessly tugging and breaking off pieces of it as you sat there.
you sighed deeply and hugged your knees up to your chest, the day surprisingly a sunny one as chirping birds flittered past you through the wind, tiny little white butterflies occasionally stopping by to sit on your arm or satoruâs tombstone as you sat there in thought⌠not really sure what to think, but comforted by the fact that the engravings on his stone reminded you that he was once very much alive and real.
there was an odd wavering in your heart, and you had a feeling that this was going to be the last time you were visiting his grave, for you figured it was time to finally do what he wanted you to doâ move on and forget him.
âdonât move on.â
you stiffened.
that voice⌠was your mind hallucinating now? jesus chriâ
âdonât move on from me please⌠andâ and donât forget me. i take it all back.â
you heard footsteps draw nearer across the grass and you turned your head, eyes widening and unbelieving as you saw satoru standing there with a pleading anxious expression, him still dressed in his black and white suit that he had on for the wedding.
was it actually him?
âhow are youâŚâ you trailed off, your mind having difficulty processing how he was there. âhow are you outside the house? i thought the contractââ
âjuno gave me a hall passâŚâ he explained softly. âit expires at the end of the day.â
you hummed, itching to jump up and wrap your arms around him and cling to him, but stopping yourself from doing so as you still didnât know why he was here, and you were quite frankly still bitter and hurt from him sending you away.
you slightly turned your body. âwhy are you here?â
âbecause i canât stay away from you.â
your heart skipped a beat as he crouched down to your level, your eyes greedily running across every feature of his face and committing it to memory, as you now had him directly in front of you again instead of having to rely on recollections of him to try and mend your aching heart.
and satoru was doing the same.
âi started to sense you distancing from me and⌠and i had this feeling that you were starting to listen and move on and forget me and it made me fucking ill. which is crazy because iâm dead⌠but i was literally ill sweets.â
you let a tiny soft smile play at your lips.
âi canât take it.â he spoke again, shaking his head. âi canât take the thought of you forgetting me. not now, not ever, and i donât know why i was stupid enough to try and convince myself that i could watch you do something like that even if its the right thing.â
âyou sent me away.â
âi did babyâŚâ he reached over and gently caressed your cheek. âand i regret that so fucking much. iâm sorry.â
âtoru i need you to understand that you canât make choices like that for me.â
âi know.â he mumbled and dropped his hand, eyes casting down. âiâm stupid.â
âbut i also need you to understand, that i have no interest in living in a world that doesnât have you in it⌠itâs not worth it now that youâre gone.â
you tilted your head to try and catch his gaze, continuing once his blue eyes flickered back to yours.
âi would die for you, and i would die without you. i look for you in everything that i do and you expecting me to just forget you is cruel.â
âno i donât want you to forget me anymââ
âwhatâs life to you?â you asked him suddenly. âwhat does it feel to you? and mean?â
he stared at you with pinched brows, his face endearing but sad all at the same time.
âwarm.â he murmured. âbeautiful and⌠pure. itâs peaceful and it means you.â
your heart fluttered and you smiled, and satoru fell in love with you all over againâ something you conquered when he was alive, and something you conquered again in death.
âthatâs what life is toru.â you cupped his cheek. âto me itâs notâ this.â
you gestured around you. âitâs not my body or my heart, itâs not the sun and itâs not breathing. itâs you. i feel life through you and i always have⌠because life doesnât literally mean where i am now and neither does it mean the netherworld baby⌠it means you and me.â
satoru didnât even realize he was crying until you wiped his cheeks, your words serving an entirely new perspective to him about the living and the dead and he felt peace.
because yes satoru was dead⌠but he was still living. living because he had you as the embodiment of it, and living because his soul still permitted him to see you again and be with you, to look at you with his own undead eyes and feel warmth like he did before.
but not literal warmth from your body or pumping blood or a beating heart.
but warmth from your soul. from who you are.
thatâs what life was to him⌠and what life was to you.
satoru wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you to his chest, one hand on the back of your head as he cradled you and cried, finally now no longer mourning his past life like heâd been doing for the past three years, and no longer wishing for it back either or thinking that physically living in this world was the better option for you just because it meant you were breathing.
where he was, was just fine. and wherever you chose to go would be fine too.
but you chose to go with him, something that had been set since the moment you met under the magnolia tree back in middle schoolâ living or dead, paris or italy, your choice would always and forever be him.
satoru proposed to you right then and there at his gravesite, flying to one knee as soon as you both stood back up and him manifesting the biggest diamond rock you had ever seen in your life, laughing and crying together as he slipped it over your ring finger, for your marriage meant the binding of the living and the dead, and the binding of you and himâ a new beginning.
but this time your wedding wasnât at the cathedral, but under the pretty magnolia tree where you had met, now accompanied by the maitlands as barbara cried, and juno as she herself officiated the wedding, you thinkingâ hoping that she grew a soft spot for satoru, and that behind her stern resting face, she was glad satoru was finally a free man and granted a second chance.
giving your soul up was nothing to you, and it didnât hurt at all either⌠you feeling lighter in exchange actually⌠happy, with satoru standing in front of you and with a massive fucking grin on his face, shiny and bright as he practically jumped in his spot in excitement over you finally being his wife and that he got to keep youâ and right this time⌠no lies or tricks or hidden secrets, but genuine authentic sacrifice instead, for it was the purest form of love.
because this is what fate had decided for the two of you.
it had decided that satoru gojo was meant to die⌠but it had also decided to bring you back to him as wellâ to the house of the maitlands, to the attic he was banished to, and back together again in each others cold arms where you belonged, defying the laws of the living and the dead and proving that life doesnât end even after your hearts stopped beating.
fate had decided that you were both meant to be. that was always a fact.
and fate had decided that you and satoru gojo were meant to live, with unbeating hearts and icy cold skin, but souls still warm for each other nonetheless.
because through sickness and in health⌠death could not do you both apart.
you and satoru.
together for eternity.
taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
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#I UNDERESTIMATED HOW MUCH I STILL HAD TO WRITE WITH THIS FIC#I AM SO SORRY IM ACTUALLY THE WORSTTT#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader#jjk satoru#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jujutsu gojo#gojo fluff#gojo smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu satoru#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jujutsu sorcerer#jujustsu kaisen x reader#satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru smut#satoru gojo
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I wish we saw more casual diversity among Vulcans in regards to... well, everything: fashion, art, history, geography, language, religion and philosophy, occupations, familial units, and logical styles and emotional management, and so on. The monoculture that "Star Trek" tends towards is both unrealistic and kind of boring.
(I think that my ideal "Star Trek" show would have a minimum of two matching non-humans in the main crew who are from opposite sides of their planet; these two alien coworkers have almost NOTHING in common. It immediately creates compelling character dynamics.)
Anyway, even within the specific Surakian Logic sect that Spock and his family seem to belong to, there's still opportunity for fun, divisive hobbies among this particular group of Vulcans. We can have judgey Vulcans looking at other Vulcans' weird, harmless antics and saying, "What illogical behavior," while the other Vulcans are judging them back for being illogical in their own opinion. Let Vulcans be REAL nerds: I think that pre-Surak historical reenactment is not an uncommon hobby, both casual LARPing and hardcore reenactment.
It's educational to spin and weave and sew your own pre-Surakian garments! It's educational to forge your own weaponry! It's grounding, like meditation! It is humbling to truly realize the complicated labor involved in fabrication. Even when they were surrendering to their emotional urges, you know, Vulcan ancestors were not completely illogical: they knew how to fashion a comfortable garment well-suited to the desert. Camping in the wilderness and foraging for food connects oneself to nature, teaches about history, and settles oneself in the present.
Also, it's good physical exercise and emotionally cathartic to beat the shit out of each other with foam-wrapped lirpa, screaming at the top of your lungs. It's very logical. There's a medical team on standby, reading on their pads and drinking tea.
You beam down in the wrong part of the desert at the right time and find a bunch of scantily-clad Vulcan warriors (outfits depend on the chosen time period and location) (of all genders) shrieking and rolling in the dirt, until a timer goes off, and then the scheduled mock-battle is over and everyone helps each other up. (Depends how hardcore the group is, of course.) (Also, yeah, obviously, some of these groups have a hook-up culture attached / embedded.) Two bleeding guys who were previously punching each other in the face salute each other and part ways, one to go write a new archeological paper based on his findings here ("Fascinating") and the other to his low-level government desk job ("Most invigorating exercise").
If this happens anywhere near where people live, then the neighbors are shaking their heads and saying to each other, "I don't know how anyone could come to their conclusions and call it logical. Their foundational premises must be flawed." đ Some of them while closely watching the entire scandalous affair through binoculars and telescopes, of course. đ¤
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I keep seeing posts comparing this to 2004 or other past election losses and how this feels the same or similar to those past times.
As another Old who voted in 2004 (and I missed voting in 2000 by a month and was furious about it) I really can't even put into words how vehemently I disagree.
In 2008, I remember very earnestly sitting down with some friends and saying that if somehow McCain beat Obama, I'd have to join the fucking revolution, because I couldn't believe that this country would elect a Republican AGAIN after the previous 8 years of bullshit. I look back now and think how incredibly naive I was, but I also look back now and think, damn, why aren't I 25 NOW? I can't join the revolution now, I'm 41 and I own a house and have two young children and one old parent depending on me.
Because honestly, truly, as someone who has been studying American history since I was 7, as a Civil War buff with expertise on the years before the Civil War, as someone who has at least some memories of every election since 1988... guys, this isn't the same as 2004. I was furious then. Swift Boat bullshit I swear to fucking dog. And I was and still am fairly convinced that the 2000 election was deliberately stolen. But also I still had every reason then to believe in the rule of law.
In 2004, I still believed term limits would be respected.
In 2004, I still believed a person who wasn't elected would demure gracefully to the winner.
In 2004, I still trusted the courts.
In 2004, I still believed that we'd made progress on bigotry.
I could go on, and to be clear, my point isn't "I thought these institutions were ~good~" in literally any objective sense. Y'all are cynical but my generation was raised by, surrounded by, Vietnam vets and trust me, there was no way to be a kid, seeing what the 70s did to this country, and not come out as cynical and furious as the best of um. (My grandfather was a World War 2 vet, as were his close friends. My father and both his brothers are Vietnam vets, tho my dad didn't go overseas.) But I did believe that even corrupt institutions, even broken racist systems, even fucking Republicans, would follow basic norms of democracy. They said they believed in the constitution and I believed them. I believed that, like Nixon, truly getting caught doing something insane would at least force a mea culpa and turn public opinion. I believed...
Well, I guess it doesn't matter.
Because I no longer believe any of that.
I have watched the guard rails disappear over my lifetime. I have watched the party who once spent 2 years pursuing a guy over a BJ in the oval office elect a convicted rapist. I have watched and at times I've participated and I've voted and I've organized and I've protested and I've read the news more days than not and I've lived and I've grown and I've learned.
I have been an adult, legally, for almost 24 years now.
Guys... there are no norms remaining on the far right. The guard rails are gone. The Fascists control the White House, the senate, the Supreme Court, and things aren't looking promising for the House.
The bus has no brakes anymore. They think they have a mandate - and I can't blame them, as horrifying as this mandate is, because if things had gone the other way and Harris had gotten these results I'd also think it was a mandate.
Please sit with what this means: Trump and the Republican party said, "hand us the reins and we'll make everyone you hate hurt," and more than half the people who bothered to vote said "sure buddy, here goes." We don't have a usurper this time. This is the country that the majority of Americans said they wanted. Whether they come to regret that or not, they saw open Fascism and went "oh yes, count me in." And it wasn't because of the electoral college this time. It was because this country is so bigoted and misogynistic that they'd rather have this than a woman of color in the office.
I'm sick of "well she didn't run a good campaign." (Lie.) I'm sick of, "well we didn't get a primary." (Who cares?) I'm *extremely* sick of "well, Palestine." (Yes! Democrats actions have made the suffering there so much worse! It fucking sucks! You know what's about to suck so much worse?)
15 million people who showed up for Joe Biden couldn't be fussed to place a vote for Kamala Harris. Whatever their reason for not voting, we all knew the outcome if she lost. And seeing open fascism didn't fire them up enough to make the effort, and that's fucking pathetic. The consequences of the worst happening mattered so little to them that they couldn't be fucking bothered to make the minimum effort to stop it, and now millions of people will suffer as a result.
Because here we are: the huge swathe of the country who wanted a strongman now have one.
Look, I don't know what happens next. But I do know, and remember keenly: after 2016, Trump did, or at least tried to do, most of the things he said he'd do. When he was stopped, it was often because of career government employees: judges, bureaucrats, etc. And this time, he's said he's going to purge those people. I don't know if he'll succeed, but I certainly believe he'll try.
This is not 2004 again.
This is 2024. The Republicans have ripped the mask to shreds, shredded apart the book of political norms, and empowered hate, and they've been handed a governmental mandate for stamped "have at with our blessing!" in exchange.
And now they'll use that mandate to make everyone they hate suffer: people of color, queer people, trans people, immigrants, non-Christians.
Don't assume the worst can't happen. I am a Jew, and I have a photo album full of black and white photos of dead people that constantly reminds me: the worst has happened and it can happen again.
Do not despair. Despair is enervating. Be furious. As we should be. These douche bags are repulsive. Be prepared to fight. Be prepared to flee. Be prepared to defend. Don't assume you simply can't do something. There's always something to do, and even the smallest act of defiance can help. There's never any knowing until after which acts of resistance will end up galvanizing the good and just out of their apathy. But that apathy is the enemy.
Because none of this is normal. None of this is "just like when..." Please stop saying it is.
And before anyone screams "privilege" at me, yes, I am in many ways. I'm white. I have access to some generational money even tho my own family lives paycheck to paycheck - we won't be rich but have enough of a support network to be comfortable. I live in a blue area of a blue state. But I'm also a woman (legally speaking, at least) married to another woman - since before Oberkfell, and yes I remember exactly what steps we had planned any time we wanted to leave our state. My wife has physical disabilities. We have two children. Both are biracial (half black). One is trans. We are caring for an elderly parent. I am Jewish and as my kids' birth parent, so are they. I own a publishing company that publishes the exact kinds of queer and kinky lit these people intend to ban. We tick so many boxes of what these people hate.
I know ya'll are scared. Trust me, I'm terrified. But fear is paralyzing. And that won't help. Whatever happens, don't lie down and take this shit.
When Gore lost I was one month shy of my 18th birthday and already in college. I have been fighting my entire adult life, and I'm exhausted. I'm much less able to fight now, much more tied down with responsibilities. But the fight isn't over. I'm checking our passports. I'm packing a go bag. I've convinced one vulnerable friend to move here and I have another who wants to and we're figuring out how to make that happen. I'm protecting who I can, starting with putting on my mask first. I don't know what will happen but if in the end all I can do is uproot my entire life to protect my children then I am preparing to do so. I can at least save them if no one else.
None of this is normal.
And I'm not sure, after Trump's in office, that anything will ever be normal again in the US. At least not the old normal. And there are ways that's a good thing, so many ways that the old normal sucked for so many people, and I'm optimistic that there's a bright future ahead, but man it looks far away right now. I don't want to go back to the old normal, and I want to be part of establishing a kinder, more just, more equal new normal, but we're a long way from there.
Whatever happens, we must endure. We must survive. We must support each other. We must find our allies and be prepared to compromise with them. Don't try to save everyone. You'll fail. Help even one person and you can change the world. Everyone things they can't do everything and so do nothing. That's insane. Do a single thing and it will be better than nothing. One phone call. One letter. One act of defiance. Very few people get the opportunity to grand gestures that matter, and the rest of us will die waiting for that moment. But the secret is that what makes those moments - the time when one person is in the right place at the right time for their action to matter - is built on millions of small moments by millions of people doing what little they can to make things slightly better. Think of every iconic photograph of a Sole Resistor you know of and think about every single tiny thing that had to happen for that moment to occur. Most of us will never me that one person, but that one person is a myth anyway. Countless tiny unseen moments create those myths. Doing literally anything is better than doing nothing.
And tooth and nail, quietly and loudly, in our homes and our towns and cities, during protests or when they come for our neighbors, we must fight.
#unforth rambles#politics#uspol#i probably shouldnt post this#and it probably wont get traction even though i am#but stop telling people that the normal methods of hunkering diwn and waiting for a 2026 blue wave will help#stop telling people this is just like something before#its not its not its not its so fucking not stop it
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i don't are what your fucking blog aesthetic is. if you're NOT paying $80 for eggs, then be a decent person and reblog this. if you ARE paying $80 for eggs, you get the struggle.
reblog this.
you see this, you reblog.
i can't believe the amount of people who sit here and watch and do NOTHING about the genocide of our brothers and sisters. men, women, and children are dying. you think it's devastating to lose a pet? people are losing their families every day. i don't care what country you're from. i don't care what your theme is about. saying nothing is saying absolutely everything about you all right now.
we're tumblr. we're known for spam tagging. guys. be so fucking for real. if you don't use your voice in this race, why do you think it's okay to use it in others. it's all 'equal rights' and 'affordable living' until it comes to families in gaza. we might not be from the same country, we might not agree, but in the end, we are on this earth together. the idea that we let other humans to be treated like this while we scroll by on a daily basis is sick.
take two seconds to stop your doomscroll and stand with your people. because nobody else will.
On October 30, I will write to you the latest updates about our lives in GazaâŹď¸đŁ
In the previous picture, there is a list of prices in Gaza for basic food items, most of which are not available, and if they are available, they are very expensive. You know, after my first campaign was stopped, I started a new campaign so that I could cover the basic necessities for me and my family, and donations are very few and non-existent. I am looking for all the ways to save money for my family
New suffering for my family .It's very dangerous
The shortage and high prices of detergents in Gaza are very alarming in light of the current war situation ...
The impact of war on hygiene and the spread of diseases: The war on Gaza has not only destroyed buildings and infrastructure but also targeted essential services that directly affect people's lives, including clean water and sanitation systems. The Israeli occupation, by deliberately targeting these vital services, contributes to the increased spread of diseases and epidemics. The absence of basic hygiene supplies such as soap,disinfectants, and clean drinking water leads to an unhealthy environment, causing diseases to spread quickly, especially among children and the elderly. In this context, maintaining hygiene becomes nearly impossible in the absence of basic resources, exacerbating the humanitarian crisis.
A call for help: In the face of this difficult humanitarian situation, we turn to kind-hearted people and anyone who has the ability to help to contribute to providing the necessary hygiene supplies for my family and other families suffering like us. Yourdonations will help protect the health of children, women, and the elderly who are facing the daily risk of disease.
Saving a child's life could start with a bar of soap, and protecting a family from epidemics could be achieved by providing disinfectants or clean water.
Vetted By:
1- @gaza-evacuation-funds No.347 here
@nabulsi @wellwaterhysteria @90-ghost
2- @ibtisams VERIFIED GOFUNDME LIST #11
3- butterfly effect project line No.407
â¤ď¸đĽPlease Reblog as much as you can and Donate .đĽâ¤ď¸
@timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe @rhubarbspring @opencommunion @pcktknife @brutaliakhoa @sawasawako @neptunerings
@feluka @terroristiraqis @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @turian @deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @khanger @kibumkim @neechees
@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @mansbutchery @7bitter @tortiefrancis
@toiletpotato @fromjannah
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@aristotels @komsomolka @xinakwans @heritageposts @huzni
@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat
@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator
@lacecap @northgazaupdates2
#free gaza#gaza#aid for gaza#asexual#humanitarian aid#palestinian genocide#gravity falls#artists on tumblr#gaza relief#donald trump#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#palestine aid#save palestinians#support palestine#help palestine#long live palestine#vetted#palestine gfm#gofundme#gfm list#el shab hussein#stand with gaza#gaza evacuation fund#hatsune miku#free palestina#flight rising#trans rights#humanity#palestine news#important
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im mildly bitter that fanon only ever does "superboy doesn't know tim drake is robin!1!" and Never goes "tim doesn't know that kon-el is conner kent and is having a terrible time trying to process that he has a crush on two people at the same time because somehow he's twisted himself into knots like a balloon animal and convinced himself he's committing the thoughtcrime of thoughtcheating despite not actually being in a relationship with either boy".
like. give me tim meeting a pleasant kinda dorky farmboy who loves his grandma and going on a long introspective inner monologue about how it would have been nice to have a simpler life where he didn't have to lie to his family and juggle responsibilities blah blah blah blah.
he doesn't even know.
because. well. on the other side i think kon juggling "i have a secret identity so secret that no one even knows i have a secret identity. and it's not just me. if they ever find out i have a secret identity they'll start wondering if superman does too, and i can't fuck this up and air out superman's biggest secrets!!" during a version of the yj tim identity drama era... well, it could be something. could be fun! guy who HATES lying to his friends but hates the idea of letting superman down even more, caught between a rock and a hard place.
and on the other side is tim, the strugglerrrrr, in full balloon animal mode because conner kent is really sweet and dorky and it's kind of endearing. this guy's learning to knit from his grandma, but he's shy about it and got really embarrassed when tim saw him working on a wobbly scarf. but also kon-el his friend kon-el ... he knows kon-el, he fights by his side, they've saved each other's lives, they hang out at the young justice hq pool or play ping pong and bicker about the cultural relevance of wendy the werewolf stalker. he's tying himself in knots in his brain. help him (don't help him it's funny to watch him struggle)
#rimi talks#granted tim even being aware he's bisexual during the yj era is . well. no way. but we can fiddle with things we can tweak it for the bit#tim#kon#timkon
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HXH CHAPTER 405 SPOILERS
I think people don't focus on a very important point when theyre talking about hisoillu's possible deaths. One of them being that as much as Hisoka and Illumi want to live and wont go down without a fight, they both will NOT allow the other to die to anyone else.
This was mainly demonstrated multiple times by Hisoka. Other than the fact that he's generally possessive over his toys and Illumi is one of his toys, Illumi is also THE highest ranking toy in Hisoka's toybox. This was proven when he was willing to sacrifice both Gon and Killua, also two of his highest ranking toys, just to stop Nanika from killing Illumi and getting to fight Illumi himself. Aka, he wasn't about to let someone else take Illumi from him.
While the idea itself is fucked up, it is also a form of love that only Hisoka is capable of. Which brings us to the second and most recent point, this panel.
I dont think I really need to explain anything here lol. He explicitly stated that he wants to love someone to death one on one. And he loves Illumi. So he wants for him and illumi to love each other to death. So anyone else getting to Illumi before him is like a BIGGG FAT nono. He may actually get pissed about it, and thats coming from a man who didnt even get angry when he was killed.
Third point is he quite literally contracted Illumi to kill him. I think thats pretty straight forward.
So Hisoka isn't going to let anyone touch Illumi. Not that either of them need protection, but matter of fact is they're both overprotective of each other.
Illumi's deal? Well. He's very trigger happy when it comes to sacrificing himself for some reason. When he gets an opportunity to trade his life for his family's lives hes running over whispering "i've dreamed of days like this..."
So whats the point here? Well. He loves Hisoka. He married Hisoka. Hisoka is legally contracted with the Zoldycks now. Hisoka is a Zoldyck. Hisoka is family. u get what im saying.
There's also the time Illumi mentioned that he knew him and hisoka were going to kill each other in the end anyways. So our guy here has the same fucked up mindset of love as Hisoka. WE"RE The ones that will kill each other. He's made that very clear.
The last thing Illumi's going to allow is for anyone to take Hisoka's life that isn't him. He accepted the contract of killing Hisoka for a reason. In general, its not very fun for someone to steal an assassin's mark, is it?
So yeah. An enemy of Hisoka is an enemy of Illumi and vice versa. The troupe got a big storm coming if they think they'll be able to lay a hand on either of them with no consequences lmfao
#hxh#hunter x hunter#hisoka#hisoka morow#illumi#illumi zoldyck#hisoillu#hisoka x illumi#hxh analysis#hunter x hunter analysis#my analysis#my post#hxh 405#hxh manga
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âtrue blue â part i
summary: two strangers meet in a city of millions, only to discover they've been searching for each other all along.
pairing: pedro pascal x f!reader.
word count: 7.3k
warnings: age gap, angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol, loneliness, nostalgia. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know! (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)
a/n: hello lovelies, iâm back with another story! hope you guys enjoy it and happy reading <3
London had a way of swallowing you whole, especially on days like thisâwhen the sky was nothing but a massive stretch of gray, heavy and low, threatening rain but never delivering it. The city seemed to disappear into the clouds, a wash of neutral tones that made everything feel colder, quieter.
Six months in, and you still werenât used to it. The grayness, the dampness that clung to your skin, or the way the city seemed to keep you at armâs length, never quite welcoming you in.
You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck as you walked into the cafĂŠ, your breath fogging the glass for a moment before pushing the door open.
The warmth hit you immediately, the smell of roasted coffee beans filling your senses. The place was small, cozy, and comfortably wornâwooden floors scuffed by years of foot traffic, walls lined with photos of the city taken from angles only locals would recognize. It was a great place, one you had found early on in your stay. Most of the baristas knew you by now, especially Tom, who greeted you with a nod as soon as you walked in.
You tugged at the sleeves of your sweater, slightly too big but soft and comforting, and ran a hand through your frazzled hair, still somewhat damp from the earlier drizzle. You hadnât bothered with an umbrella; London rain was more a constant mist than a downpour, not enough to get soaked but just enough to make you feel cold in your bones. Your dark pants clung to your legs, and your worn black boots scuffed the floor as you made your way to the counter.
It was late afternoon, your favorite time to stop by. Usually, you had to battle before work-rush. But you were free today. Most people had already grabbed their coffee and gone back to their lives, leaving the cafĂŠ quieter, almost meditative. You liked that. It was one of the few moments in your day where you didnât have to think about the silence that otherwise hung over life.
New York had been noisy, full of distractions, but here, the quiet was inescapable. It followed you home, lingered in the corners of your rented flat, and made you feel more alone than you ever had back in the States.
âHey, Tom,â you said, offering him a small smile as you dropped your purse onto the counter.
He smiled back, his hands already reaching for a cup. âThe usual?â
âYeah, thanks.â
You leaned against the counter, absently scrolling through the phone. Emails. Work messages. Nothing personal, nothing to distract you from the dull rhythm of solitude youâd grown so accustomed to. A novel youâd just finished reading peeked out of your bag.
As you waited for the order, the bell above the door chimed softly, and you felt someone step up beside you. You didnât look up, not at first. The presence was warm, close enough to feel but not close enough to intrude. You were just another person standing in line, waiting for coffee.
Then you heard the voice.
âA large iced black coffee, please,â the man beside you said, his voice deep, casual, the kind of voice that made you listen even when you werenât paying attention.
Another barista nodded, moving quickly to prepare the drink, and you tried not to feel the manâs presence. But it was hard not to. He wasnât looking at you, but could sense himâthe quiet weight of someone standing just close enough that it made you aware of yourself.
âBlue.â
The word pulled you out of your thoughts, and you glanced sideways, confused. âSorry?â
He was smiling now, his expression easy, as if we were in on some joke. He nodded toward your bag, where the book was still partially visible. âThe cover of your book. Itâs blue.â
You blinked, your brain trying to catch up with the conversation. âOhâŚyeah, it is.â You managed a half-smile, still unsure of where this was going.
âYou must think Iâm weird now,â he added, his tone teasing, but there was something behind his eyesâsomething almost vulnerable, like he was testing the waters.
âNo, not really,â I said, shrugging. âI just wasnât expecting...that.â
âItâs justâŚuh, lately, Iâve been reading a lot of books with blue covers,â he explained, running a hand through his hair. It was slicked back, but not perfectlyâthere was a curl that had escaped, hanging slightly over his forehead, giving him a disheveled charm. His brown leather jacket looked well-worn, like something heâd had for years, and his white sneakers were clean but scuffed, like theyâd seen their fair share of travel.
âWhen I saw yours, it made me think of that. Sorry to bother you.â
âNo, youâre not bothering me,â you said quickly, feeling an odd need to put him at ease. âNot at all.â
You took him in more fully now, and something clicked. There was a familiarity about him, something that tugged at the edges of recognition, but it hadnât fully registered yet. Dark jeans, black t-shirt, the jacket slung casually over his frame, and those clear glasses that made him look both intelligent and approachable. His smooth skin seemed ready to tip into weathered, his dark hair almost shot full of gray. Solidly middle aged.Â
There was something unguarded about him. Something real.
Before you could figure out where you knew him from, Tom interrupted, handing you the coffee with a nod. âHere you go.â
âThanks.â You reached for your card to pay, then paused, glancing back at the man beside you.
âDo you want it?â
He looked at you, clearly surprised. âWant what?â
âThe book.â
You gestured toward the blue-covered novel still poking out of the bag. âI finished it earlier today. You can add it to your collection of blue books.â
He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. âOh, no, I canât take that from you.â
âOf course you can.â
You pulled the book out fully, holding it out to him. âIâm done with it. And you seem interested.â
For a moment, he just looked at you, like he was trying to figure out if you were serious. Then, slowly, he reached out, his large hands brushing against yours as he took the book. His fingers lingered on the cover for a moment, running over the title as he read it out loud.
âIt Lasts Forever and Then Itâs Over.â
You watched as he flipped the book over, his fingers tracing a small bullseye doodle inked on the back of his hand, just between his thumb and index finger. It was such a small detail, but it told you something about him. You suddenly wanted to know everything about him.
âItâs a good read,â you said, slipping the card into the reader. âItâs about mortality, grief, love⌠you know, the usual light fare.â
He laughed softly, shaking his head. âSounds like my kind of book. Gut-wrenching, then?â
âYeah,â you admitted, âI think I have a thing for devastating literature.â
âThat makes two of us.â
Tom handed him his iced coffee, and he nodded gratefully, still holding the book like it was something fragile. âThanks again,â he said, glancing at the title one last time. âIâll make sure itâs in good company.â
âI hope you enjoy it,â you said, gathering your things. You had to go home before the rain started pouring.
As you stepped toward the door, you felt the chill from outside starting to creep back in, and just before the door closed behind you, you heard him call out, his voice soft but sure.
âI know I will.â
The cold wind hit you as you stepped out into the gray street, but this time, it felt different. Less like a wall, more like a breeze pushing you forward. Something had changed, though you werenât sure what yet.
The rain had picked up again, tapping against the windows of your flat like impatient fingers. The days were growing shorter now, the afternoons fading into evenings before you even had time to notice. Autumn had a way of settling into your bonesâthe way the cold crept in through the cracks, the muted light casting long shadows across the room, the golden hues of fallen leaves scattered on the pavement outside.
You had made the flat your own in small, quiet ways. A few plants scattered along the window ledge, books stacked unevenly on shelves that were too small to hold them all, some even on the floor, and a woolen throw draped over the worn arm of the couch. The place wasnât large, but it was enoughâjust one bedroom, a kitchen that overlooked the small living room, and large windows that framed the world outside in a way that almost felt intimate. It smelled like home nowâa mix of coffee and the faint scent of cinnamon from the candle burning on the table.
You were halfway through folding a pile of laundry when the phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. You wiped your hands on your pajama shorts before picking it up, smiling as Oliviaâs name flashed across the screen. She called at least once a week, sometimes more if she had something âurgentâ to discussâwhich, in her world, could range from a new recipe she'd tried to the latest celebrity drama.
You answered on the second ring. "Hey, Liv."
âFinally!â Her voice came through the speaker, bright and full of life. âIâve been texting you all day.â
You balanced the phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock from the couch.
âSorry, I was at work. Just got back a little while ago.â
âUh-huh,â she said, clearly unconvinced. âYouâre always at work. You know thatâs not healthy, right?â
You could rattle off a hundred reasons why being a medical resident wasnât healthyânone of it was. It had taken you months to find your footing at the hospital. You hadnât really made any friends outside of work, just the occasional outing with Sabrina, a fourth-year whoâd taken you under her wing like the hospitalâs den mother.
You rolled your eyes, tossing the sock into the laundry basket. âI know, I know, but you know how it is.â
âWhatever,â she said, clearly moving on. âSo, guess what?â
You smiled, already bracing myself for whatever tangent she was about to dive into. âWhat?â
âI found this article about why cats are secretly plotting against us, and I swear, itâs changed my whole perspective on Peanut.â
âPeanut? Your ten-year-old tabby who sleeps all day and barely looks at you?â
âYes! Thatâs exactly why it makes sense. Heâs too quiet. Too calm. Heâs plotting, I know it.â
You laughed as you wandered into the kitchen to grab a Coke from the fridge. âOlivia, heâs a cat. I think youâre safe.â
âDonât you dare dismiss me, okay? I have facts. Iâll send you the article.â
âCanât wait,â you said dryly, leaning against the counter as you sipped your drink.
There was a brief pause on her end, and then her voice softened, shifting to something more serious. âBut really, how have you been?â
You glanced out the window, watching the rain streak down the glass in slow, steady lines. âSame old. The hospital, laundry, eating dinner in front of the TV. You know the drill.â
âNothing new?â she pressed.
âNot really.â
You hesitated, a brief smile tugging at your lips as you remembered the cafĂŠ. âAlthough⌠I think I met Pedro Pascal the other day.â
There was a beat of silence, followed by a shriek so loud you had to pull the phone away from your ear. âWhat?! Shut up, shut up! You what?â
âI meanâŚI wasn't sure it was him when it was happening, but now I'm kinda positive.â
âGirl, how positive?â Her voice was breathless, excited in the way only Olivia could manage.
You chuckled, walking over to the couch and sinking into the cushions, curling your legs under you.
âI don't know, pretty positive?â
She let out an exasperated sigh. âDid he give you his name?â
âNo, not exactly.â
âThen how do you know it was him?â She sounded like she was about to combust with impatience.
âBecause I talked to the man, Liv. He looked like him; I don't know. MaybeâŚmaybe it wasn't him."
âYou talked?!â she nearly screamed. âOh my God, what did you talk about?â
âNot much,â you said, shrugging even though she couldnât see you. âIt was about my bookâthe one I was reading.â
âWhat was he like? Was he charming? Did he look at you with those eyes?â
You could practically see her waggling her eyebrows, and you laughed, shaking your head.
âCalm down. He was just⌠normal. Kind of charming. We didnât talk for long, though.â
âNormal? Pedro Pascal is not normal. People would die to have a conversation with him, and youâre over here like, âOh, we just talked about a book."
You smiled, running a hand through your hair, which had dried into a messy wave. âYouâre being dramatic.â
âIâm not! This is huge!â she insisted. âDid he ask for your number?â
âNo, are you crazy? â You snorted. âIt wasnât like that.â
âYouâre killing me here.â She groaned. âHow do you not make the most of a moment like that? You had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to shoot your shot, and youâre telling me you just let it go?â
âIt wasnât like that, Liv,â you said, still laughing. âIt was just a casual conversation.â
She let out another exasperated sigh. âYouâre hopeless. Completely hopeless.â
âOkay, well, I have to go,â you said, picking up the empty laundry basket and setting it aside. âI still have to make dinner, and itâs getting late.â
âYouâre brushing me off because you donât want to admit you missed your chance with Pedro Pascal.â
âIâm brushing you off because Iâm starving,â you corrected.
âFine, fine. But promise me this isnât the end of the story. If you run into him again, you have toââ
âNot gonna happen."
"Don't be so pessimistic. If you run into him again, you tell me."
"Not gonna happen, but fine."
âThatâs all I ask,â she said, her tone suddenly cheerful again. âOkay, go make dinner. Iâll talk to you later.â
âBye, Liv.â
âBye!â
You hung up, dropping the phone onto the couch as you stared outside again. The rain had softened into a steady drizzle. The flat was quiet, the only sound being the occasional hiss of the radiator and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
You sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions. It was a small life you had built here, simple and quiet. But there was something comforting about it too. Even if you hadnât figured everything out yet, there was a strange sense of peace in the routine of it all.
And yet, the thought of that brief encounter at the cafĂŠ lingered in the back of your mind, like a spark that hadnât quite caught fire.
A week had passed since the encounter, but you couldnât shake him from your mind. It was ridiculous, really. You hadnât asked for his name, hadnât lingered long enough to let the moment stretch into something more. But the man with the deep voice and warm laugh had somehow taken up residence in your thoughts.
It was as if the quiet, unremarkable routine youâd built for yourself here had been cracked open, just a little, by that brief, unexpected meeting.
Still, you tried not to think about it too much. But every time you walked past that cafĂŠ, your steps slowed, as if you expected to see him again, leaning against the counter with his easy smile. By the time you actually went in again, a full week later, the cold October air was biting at your skin, and your mind was no more settled than it had been that day.
You ordered the usualâa flat whiteâand lingered by the counter as Tom prepared it, his familiar movements almost soothing in their predictability. You were lost in thought, half-aware of your surroundings, when Tom placed the cup on the counter.
But this time, there was something else.
A small package, wrapped in brown paper and tied neatly with a blue ribbon.
âWhatâs this?â you asked, staring at it like it was some kind of puzzle.
Tom smiled, his thick accent wrapping around his words. âSomeone left it for you.â
You blinked, completely baffled. âWhat is this, a secret admirer thing? Because I gotta say, Tom, I wasnât prepared for that kind of drama today.â
He chuckled, shaking his head. âNot from me, love. But someone wanted you to have it.â
Intrigued, you grabbed the coffee and the package, thanking him before heading to your usual spot by the window. The window fogged slightly from the heat of the cafĂŠ, offering you a misty view of the street beyond.
You sat down and placed the package in front of you, staring at it for a few seconds as your mind raced. What the hell is this? Your fingers traced the edges of the paper, carefully undoing the small ribbon before pulling the wrapping away.
A book. Of course, it was a book.
You smiled faintly as you read the title aloud: Drive Your Plow over the Bones of the Dead.
The cover was blueâdeep and rich, just like the one youâd given away the week before. The faintest blush crept up your cheeks as you realized who it must have been from.
Your heart did a weird little somersault in your chest as you ran your fingers along the cover. Before you even opened it, a folded piece of paper fell out and landed softly on the table. You unfolded it, smoothing the creases, and read the note inside:
Hi, stranger. I realized five minutes after you gave me your book that I didnât ask for your name. How rude of me. Iâm sorry. I walked out of there as soon as I realized and walked a few blocks, but you were gone.
I finished the book, by the way. It was beautiful. I loved how real and layered the main character was. I also laughed so much; I didnât think a novel this heartbreaking would be such a joy.
Anyway, I feel like Iâm rambling now. Since you gave me one, I thought I might return the favor. I think this is a long shot since I don't know if you are a regular, but I hope you are. I hope this finds you.
Enjoy.
Love, Pedro.
You stared at the note for what felt like a full minute, your mind slowly processing the words. Oh my god. Pedro. So you weren't delusional after all. It had been him. All this time, youâd been trying to convince yourself that it was some random guy with a coincidental likeness, but noâit was him.
The smile that spread across your face was involuntary, and you felt your cheeks flush with the sudden realization that you had somehow fallen into a casual book exchange with him. Your fingers traced the edge of the note, and you leaned back in the chair, exhaling a breath you hadnât realized you were holding.
For the next several days, the book accompanied you everywhereâon the train, to work, in bed at night. You found yourself highlighting passages and underlining sentences that spoke to something deep inside you. The book was dark and witty, a strange blend of humor and melancholy that left you thinking long after youâd closed it each night.
You hadnât seen Pedro again, though you hopedâeach time you entered the cafĂŠâthat maybe heâd be there. Maybe youâd exchange a few more words; maybe this strange little connection would become something more.
But days passed, and there was no sign of him.
A week later, you finished the book. As you placed it on the nightstand, you knew what you had to do.
It was only fair to continue the game, wasnât it?
And there was one book that immediately came to mindâAlone With You in the Ether. The cover was, of course, blue.
You spent that morning getting ready, your usual routine of sluggishness replaced by something elseâanticipation, maybe. You pulled on your blue navy scrubs and your running shoes, taking a little extra care with your hair, though you werenât quite sure why.
At the cafĂŠ, you ordered the usual and approached the counter with the book neatly wrapped in brown paper. When Tom handed you the coffee, you slipped the book into his hands, along with a note:
Hi, Pedro.
Thatâs okay, no need to apologize. To be fair, I didnât ask for your name either, so that makes the two of us very rude people. Iâm so happy you liked the book. As for the one you gave meâwow. I think itâs going to stick with me for a while.
Now, this one is really special to me. I read it earlier this year, and even though itâs kind of a drag to get through in the first few chapters, once you get the hang of it, itâs totally worth it. And yeah, it made me cry a little because it explores what it means to be unwell and how to face the fractures in yourself and still love as if youâre not broken. Really happy stuff, I know.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Love,
You hesitated for a second before writing your name at the bottom of the note. You had to, right?
You couldnât keep this up forever without knowing who the other person was.
As you handed the book to Tom, excitement bubbled inside you, and you felt a strange sense of giddiness that you hadnât experienced in ages. You were exchanging books with this enigma of a manâthis charismatic, famous man who somehow understood the same quiet parts of the world that you did.
As you left the cafĂŠ that day, the autumn air crisp and cool around you, you realized just how much had changed in these past few weeks. youâd been living in your head for so long, buried in stories and thoughts that werenât your own, but nowânow there was something tangible.
And for the first time in a long time, you felt alive.
It had been days since youâd left Pedro the book, and though a small part of you hoped to hear back, you hadnât expected it. Surely he had better things to do than trade novels with a stranger. Yet, here you were again, standing at the counter of the cafĂŠ, that familiar flutter of anticipation creeping up on you.
âJust a matcha today,â you said to Tom, trying to rein in your caffeine habit. He raised an eyebrow, surprised at the switch, but didnât say anything as he rang you up. âItâs surgery day,â you added, shrugging.
When he handed you the drink, there it wasâa familiar brown-wrapped package slipped discreetly into your other hand. Your pulse quickened. You did your best to keep cool, to act as though this was just another day, but your fingers betrayed you, trembling slightly as they closed around the package.
âWhat now?â you asked, trying to sound casual, but the excitement was barely concealed in your voice.
Tom chuckled, shaking his head. âAnother one. Same guy.â
You didnât even sit down. You stood right there at the counter, carefully peeling away the paper. Another blue book. The Book of All Loves. A smile tugged at your lips, warm and uncontainable.
Inside, a folded note fell outâthis one thicker, the creases worn, the ink smudged in places. Your hands shook slightly as you unfolded it and began to read.
Hi again, strangerâ
Well, I guess I canât really call you that anymore, now that I know your name, huh?
He had written your name at the topâthree times. The letters were neat but hurried, repeated as though he were testing how it felt to write them. The ink stuttered in places, lingering on the curves of each letter, like he had taken his time. It is such a gorgeous sight. To see your name in his handwriting awakened something in you.Â
There. Itâs stuck in my head now. What a great name, by the way. I could probably write it out a hundred more times and still not get tired of seeing it. Is that weird? Thatâs probably weird. Iâm rambling again.
So, the bookâwow. It hit me in ways I didnât expect. You werenât kidding when you said it was about being unwell, but it was more than that. The characters were dancing on this fragile edge between chaos and peace, and I felt that. And that church scene...
You paused, feeling the tenderness of his words wrapping around you, pulling you in closer.
The way they held handsâit was more than just a gesture. Thereâs something about it that felt so raw, so intimate. In a place where youâre not supposed to be that close, it made it all the more... heartbreaking. Have you ever felt like that? Like youâre carrying all this weight but still holding onto this tiny sliver of hope that someone will see you for who you are? Without needing you to explain every scar?
His words resonated deeply, tugging at something tender within you, as if he had unknowingly plucked a string that had long been silent.
Do you get what I mean? Or am I just talking in circles again?
The next part of the note was a jumble of thoughts, ideas pouring out in bursts. He wrote about the book's characters, how they reminded him of his own isolation, even when surrounded by people. He confessed that sometimes he felt as though he wore a maskâsomething to hide behindâbut books like this allowed him to drop it, if only for a little while.
I think Iâm really good at pretending sometimes, you know? We all are, right? But in books, I donât have to pretend. Itâs like I get to be myself for a little bit, without all the noise. Does that make sense? Iâm probably being too heavy, sorry. The truth is, I feel comfortable writing to you. I donât know why. Maybe itâs the books, this exchangeâlike itâs okay to be vulnerable. Or maybe Iâm just being dramatic.
There was a little smiley face drawn beside that sentence, and you found yourself laughing softly, the sound light in the quiet cafĂŠ.
Anyway, thanks again for sharing this with me. Itâs a gem. I thought Iâd give you something in returnâsomething that fits. Have you read The Book of All Loves? Itâs about love beyond romance. I think youâll like it.
Until next time.
Love, Pedro.
You stood there for a long time after finishing the note, his words echoing in your mind, stirring feelings you hadnât allowed yourself to acknowledge. The way he wroteâso raw, so realâmade it feel as though you werenât just two strangers exchanging books. It felt deeper, like an unspoken understanding had passed between you, hidden in the lines of each letter, in the ink that had smudged under the weight of his thoughts.
Your heart swelled with a mixture of emotions. Just hearing from him has made you so driven, so romantic, so excited. The brief connection you had made through these letters felt real, almost tangible, as though roots had begun to take hold beneath the surface of your everyday life.
You read the note again, slower this time, savoring every word, every thought he had poured onto the page. His question lingered.
Have you ever felt like that?
Of course you had. You had spent most of your life searching for that connection, that elusive feeling of being truly seen without needing to explain every wound, every hidden corner of yourself. And now, through these letters, it felt as though Pedro saw something in you that others hadnât.
The thought was ridiculous, you knew that. But still, there was comfort in it, in the way he opened up to you with such ease. There was something undeniably romantic about itâthis quiet exchange of words and books, of thoughts and feelings that had probably never been shared aloud.
You carefully folded the note, tucking it back into the book, and cradled your matcha in your hands. A small smile played at the corners of your lips, warmth blossoming in your chest. You werenât sure what this wasâthis strange, beautiful exchangeâbut whatever it was, it made you feel seen. It made you feel connected.
You didnât mind being lost in the unknown.
Weeks passed, and your days fell into an easy rhythmâa rhythm that beat around the exchange of books and letters with Pedro. Each novel was chosen with care, both of you quietly mindful of keeping them short, under 300 pages, so they could be devoured quickly.
But the real reason wasnât the books themselves nowâit was what came with them.
The letters.
They werenât just pages full of thoughts about the stories. They were windows. Each one revealed more of who he was, and in return, you found yourself offering up pieces of yourself. You couldnât help itâthe way he wrote, the way he asked questions that no one else dared to, as if he genuinely wanted to know you. And so, you let him in.
After finishing The Book of All Loves, your response was a little more vulnerable than youâd expected. Youâd thanked him for the recommendation, told him it had cracked something open inside of you. âItâs strange,â youâd written, âhow a book about love that exists in such quiet, unassuming forms can make you feel like youâve been missing it your whole life. Iâve never thought much about love outside of romanceâwhat it means to love a moment, a gesture, the way the wind feels when it hits your skin in the early morning. All I've ever known of love is how to live without it. I just canât seem to find it. This book made me think about all the things Iâve taken for granted. The small loves. The unnoticed ones.â
Pedroâs letter back had been equally intimate. âIt feels good to read this from you,â he wrote. "To know that maybe weâve both been looking for something neither of us can really name. I guess there are certain things we stumble upon that make us feel less alone in our strangeness.
When I read your letter, I thought about a lot of things I havenât said out loud. I thought about how itâs always felt easier to live without love, or at least to live like I didnât need it, as if needing it would somehow make me weaker. I think of all the times Iâve skimmed over beauty just because I didnât want to stop and notice what was missing. Reading your words made me realize that maybe Iâve always been chasing something, too, not realizing that these quiet, unassuming momentsâlike the way the rain sounds against the window at night or the exact shade of blue that the sky becomes before sunriseâmaybe theyâre as close as Iâve been to something real.
The words spilled out slowly, and you read them twice, tracing each line with your fingertip, as if trying to hold onto every word for a little longer.
When you said the book cracked something open in you, I understood. We donât let ourselves soften often, but it sounds like, maybe, thereâs been a little space for that now. Like maybe youâve felt things so quietly, you didnât even know they were there. Youâre right, though; love is everywhere. Itâs the way a good song can feel like home. Itâs knowing how you take your coffee. And itâs weird to realize how much of it we let slip by, out of fear or habit or because we think love should look a certain way.
I donât know why Iâm telling you all this, but I guess I want you to know that youâre not alone in this. Youâve got someone here who gets it, at least a little bit. Someone who, honestly, feels like heâs been missing something without ever quite knowing what that something was. Maybe itâs just easier to say things like this when itâs written down. Maybe itâs easier to feel a little more when thereâs distance.
But then I think of you, and I donât want to feel that distance anymore.
Take care, alright? Iâll be here, waiting for whatever thought strikes you next. And thank you, for opening up like that. For letting me know Iâm not the only one.
All the best,
Pedro
These letters had become your heartbeat, something that brought life back into you. At work, during breaks, youâd find yourself pulling out the latest book, fingers brushing the edges of the envelope tucked inside, knowing his notes and highlights were waiting for you.
Your rounds at the hospital became lighter, as if you carried a secret with youâone small, fragile thing that had started in the most unexpected of ways. How could you focus on anything when he writes you letters like this? When he spills his heart for you, a stranger?
Six days after his last letter, you sat at your kitchen counter one quiet evening, surrounded by the soft glow of a single warm light above. Outside, the evening had taken on that deep, inky blue you could get lost in, a shade that felt like a private world of its own. In front of you, a cinnamon roll sat on a small porcelain plateâthe sort of indulgence you love to treat yourself to every now and then. The glaze stuck to your fingers as you leaned over a blank page, pen poised, waiting to shape your thoughts for Pedro.
Taking a deep breath, you began:
Pedro,
Iâm sending you Never Let Me Goâa book that, in all its stillness and grace, moved me to tears. Itâs a familiar feeling; there are so many things that make me cry. Itâs not always the big, cinematic moments either, but the quiet, fleeting ones, the kind that Jane Austen might say âtouch upon the tenderness of our sensibilities.â Like when the last pages of a book make everything about the world seem profound, or when I see the first bloom of spring among the winter trees. I saw the movie years ago and cried so hard I could barely speak afterward. And, perhaps, I think thereâs something remarkably necessary about being moved to tearsâitâs like lifeâs way of keeping our hearts soft, open to the little aches and wonders.
So Iâm sharing it with you, hoping itâll do the same.
You paused, smiling to yourself, imagining him finding that description and wondering if heâd tease you for it. As the words settled onto the page, you felt a kind of sweet comfort, and maybe even a thrill, in knowing this note would soon be in his hands, bridging your two worlds once again.
It was four days later when Pedro's response finally arrived, tucked inside a copy of Night Sky with Exit Wounds. The bookâs deep, stormy cover filled your eyes. But your day had already been a whirlwind. Youâd spent the night studying for a complex surgery, barely catching three hours of sleep before sunrise. By morning, you were dashing through your routine, gulping down a few rushed sips of coffee, grabbing your coat, and flying out the door.
When you stopped by the cafĂŠ to find Pedroâs book and letter, your heart skipped at the sight of it waiting for you. But with your schedule pulling you in ten different directions, you could only clutch the book close, flash a half-awake smile at the barista, and promise yourself that youâd savor it later, once the day slowed.
Finally, around eight that evening, you arrived home, exhausted yet satisfiedâthe surgery had been a success, and youâd somehow managed to juggle the dayâs relentless demands. Dropping your bag, you kicked off your shoes and sank onto the couch, barely making it past the door before you reached for the book.
His letter was tucked between the pages, Pedroâs handwriting skimming the edge of each line as though his words had been poured onto the page in a hurry, with just enough restraint to make each word count. The sight of it made you pause, drawing a deep, steadying breath as you began to read, his voice almost palpable in the air:
I know this one comes faster than you've probably expected, but the desire to write to you is all-consuming. It takes up space in every corner of my mind, like someone has rearranged the furniture in my head, and I keep bumping into things I didnât realize were there. You should know itâs not normal for me. Iâm usually good at keeping things compartmentalized, managing my thoughts, especially when I know I shouldnât be entertaining them at all. But here I am, practically pathetic, writing you like some infatuated idiot who canât keep his head on straight. I suppose thatâs what I am.
Thereâs so much I want to ask you, even if it seems silly. Itâs weird, I know, but I want to know everything: your favorite color, the exact shade of it, and why it sticks with you. I want to know how you take your coffee, if youâd let me make it for you, and if youâd like it bitter or sweet. Do you sleep on the right or left side of the bed? Iâm trying to imagine you in those small, quiet momentsâthose times that people rarely share with others, the ones that make you feel like youâre finally seeing someoneâs real life. Perhaps I want that with you. Hell, Iâd probably just take watching you stir sugar into your coffee and feel like itâs some grand revelation.
I know Iâm rambling. Some poet's probably rolling in their grave at this poor excuse of an epistolary attempt. But I feel like I could say anything to you here, let it all pour out, and you wouldnât turn away. I guess Iâm testing that, arenât I?
This book I'm giving you is sharp but soft. Itâs like Vuongâs words walk this fine line between resilience and surrender, which maybe is why they get to me. There's a line I love: âIn the body, where everything has a price, I was a beggarââI keep coming back to it. It gets under my skin, thinking of how much of my life Iâve spent doing just that: begging for something that felt like love but never fully was.
I guess thatâs what makes me wonder. Is that what love is? Some beautiful, endless begging, hoping to be seen fully and held even with all the mess? I think about my past relationships, all the ways I tried to be someone I thought theyâd love or, at least, understand. I donât know if you can relate, but I always ended up feeling like I was only showing the parts I thought theyâd like, and I could never quite manage to bring myself whole into it. Not that they were all bad, butâŚthey left me feeling a bit like I was holding my breath, waiting for something I didnât even have a name for.
I donât feel that way with you. And it scares the hell out of me.
Have you ever loved like that? Loved in a way that left you feeling half-complete but more alone than ever? Do you think we can really know each other, or is it all just pieces we collect and hope fit together someday? Sorry, thatâs bleakâI told you, Iâm pathetic.
Still, writing this, I feel more real than Iâve felt in years. Youâre already changing something in me, and maybe Iâm a fool, but I think thatâs worth every messy, flawed attempt I make to get closer to you.
Love,
Pedro
The last lines hung in the air, sinking deep like an echo through a still room.
Holy shit.
His admission felt like the thrill of stepping onto the edge of something limitless, knowing that he, too, was caught in the same current, swept into this quiet, growing bond that defied every attempt to be named. There was nowhere else you wanted to be.
For years now, you've saved all of your romanticism for your inner life, but now it seems to spill over into reality, coloring the world around you with a new intensity. It seems to spill over into your response to him.
Pedro,
Iâm sitting here, pen in hand, trying to put to words what has only lived in my thoughts and quiet places inside me. It feels strange, like Iâm peeling something hidden, revealing not just what I am but what Iâve long been afraid to be. But I think youâve sensed that, havenât you? Somehow, in these letters, it feels possible. Youâve done this to me, you know. And if youâre pathetic, then, God help me, so am I.
When I read your letter, I felt this pulse of recognitionâyour words so familiar, as though Iâd known them before they were written. That line from VuongâI lingered over it, too, so many times, until it felt like my own skin.
Isnât it strange, the things that stay with us, hidden until someone else touches them? Iâve always had thisâŚthis longing to be seen in the fullness of myself, even the parts that feel a little too much or not quite enough. And yet, Iâve been equally terrified of it, of offering myself in a way that leaves me standing, raw, in front of someone who might not want what they see.
But with you, the idea doesnât scare me as much. Even saying that feels like a confession.
You asked if Iâd ever loved like thatâloved in a way that left me both half-alive and lonelier than ever. I have. Not often, but enough to know the ache of it, that hollow feeling of wanting so badly to be known, only to realize Iâd kept parts of myself hidden, guarded, fearing they wouldnât understand or that Iâd be asked to change. Iâve spent so many years rationing my softness, saving my sentimentalism for my own private thoughts, as though loving deeply was something to be ashamed of. But here I am, writing to you, letting it spill.
What about love, then? What do I think of it? I think of love as a kind of surrender, a rare, strange act of bravery and recklessness all at once. I think itâs choosing to step closer to someone when you know you might break your heart in the process. And maybe, sometimes, itâs a little like beggingâbut only if the person youâre begging to see you is also showing you something of themselves, a part theyâre just as afraid to share.
Which is to say: you make me want to be that reckless. You make me want to know things I would have otherwise only dreamed of. I want to know your favorite hour of the day, the one that makes you feel alive even when youâre alone. I want to know what youâve never dared to say aloud. If I could watch you, just once, as you sit in the quiet of the morning.
Maybe thatâs the kind of love I wantâone where the questions never end, where the silence says as much as the words, and where I donât have to hide anything away.
Love,
a/n: alright! so what do you guys think about this one? i wanna know your thoughts!!! like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed it, i will gladly appreciate it <3
a second part will be posted soon!
#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal rpf#my writing
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Hey on the off chance youâre a fellow Australian seeing all our American mutuals in absolute despair today, you need to get really fucking serious right now about our own upcoming election. Historically we follow America into left- or right-swings. This time, we are already there. What happened in America shouldnât be a shock to anyone who paid attention in Queensland. People in my home state voted for a racist, ultra-conservative Christian pro-life advocate whose only policy was putting traumatised ten year-old First Nations kids into adult prisons instead of the guy promising cheap public transport, free school lunches, and cost of living relief through reduced electricity bills and car registration fees.
You need to look at the Auspol news stories from today alone if you donât think shit is already fucking dire.
Jing Lee was threatened and intimidated into voting with Joanna Howeâs frankly terrifying abortion amendments despite the prior commitments sheâd made otherwise. Parliament is abandoning its responsibility to protect whistleblowers, including the one that revealed the unlawful and unethical debt collection practices in which the ATO was engaging. The government quietly made its response to the DSP inquiry today, and that response was âWe donât need to do anything because itâs been so long since this was raised.â This, following the Disability Royal Commission where over two hundred recommendations were made from the findings and not a single one was implemented.
And now the spineless little cunt who sold out every single one of his values the day he was elected Prime Minister announced the social media ban is going ahead. In order to enforce this, what this will almost certainly mean for you is you will, under legislation, be required to connect your ID against all of your internet use. If the implications of that when it comes to censorship, personal privacy, freedom of information, media and journalistic freedom, the ability to organise and the ability to protest, particularly when faced with the prospect of the reversal of womenâs and LGBTQ+ peoplesâ rights not to mention the everpresent Newscorp machine donât scare the absolute living shit out of you, then they fucking should.
We are NOT America. All the posts youâve seen today claiming third-party or independent voters are to blame for the second coming of Trump do NOT apply to us. We have a beautiful thing called preferential voting. This means that when you vote Green (the only major party working to protect abortion rights AND your freedom and privacy online, the only major party calling for the dissolution of AUKUS, the only major party calling for meaningful sanctions on Israel AND an overhaul of our disgusting asylum seeker policy (especially crucial after the IDF openly announced today they have no intention of allowing displaced Palestinians to return home), the only major party trying to wipe student debt and make uni free again, the only major party trying to protect and EXPAND Medicare, the only major party with a serious climate plan, and the only major party actively prioritising a reconciliation plan to treaty with First Nations people), your vote is not wasted even if youâre the only person in your electorate to do so.
If a single other Australian person is following this silly little blog, please please please realise that we WILL see a repeat of the American election here if we donât start getting serious right now. I donât know a single LNP voter who knows fuck about shit about policy and isnât just voting based on however their family voted, and most of them are horrified when they actually hear what theyâre voting for. Talk to your friends, family, co-workers about the policies Dutton and Albanese are proposing. Make a bunch of Volduttonmort memes and stick them up around your city. Just fucking do something.
I'm so scared guys I'm so scared
#auspol#i know there are at least a handful of you here who are also australian#if the platform my shitty smutty fanfic has generated can convince one person to vote green it will have all been worth it#long post#important
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Most of Stranger Things is within Willâs headâŚ
Including El, the Mind Flayer, Vecna, and more characters...
A lot of people aren't going to like this or agree but- if you are willing to read this at risk that you won't like it... try to keep an open mind and keep that curiosity door open.
(Above is a direct cut from Will to this line...)
I just want to begin by saying: I believe Will is the center of this show. I know many disagree, and place other characters at the center but let me explain to you why I believe the show is mainly about him.
The show begins with Will, as his disappearance is the catalyst for every single event to follow.
If you take a step back, and look at the show as a whole⌠making Will the center makes the most narrative sense. Without Will⌠there is no Stranger Things.
(GIF from @/kaypeace21's post here)
Lonnie hammering a nail into the wall while we cut to Mike poking a hole into a piece of paper visually tells a lot. Remember guys, this show is all about showing and not telling. Here they are showing us that the abuse Lonnie has inflicted unto Will caused the gate to open. The Upside Down exists due to Will's trauma. This is because the Upside Down is Will's mindscape.
DID and Internal Worlds
Will has experienced trauma far more severe than we are explicitly told. His trauma mainly leads back to his father. If you are prepared to read about the depths of said trauma, read this post. Not for the faint of heart though, my friends.
In Will's case, his trauma as led to a specific rare mental health condition called: Dissociative Identity Disorder.
Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is a mental health condition where you have two or more separate personalities that control your behavior at different times. When personalities switch, youâll have gaps in your memory. The identities are usually caused by living through trauma. x
This means I believe that many of the characters we know and love were created from Will's mind. There are common alter roles within a DID system, and this show has been assigning different characters to some of these roles this whole time.
Now, this is NOT a new theory. The creator of this theory is kaypeace21 (one of the original Byler theorists!) Check out her posts here and here. While I agree with a lot of what she has to say, I do think she jumped the gun a bit with some things... specifically: the Persecutor Alter... more on that soon (not to fault her at all! As Vecna did not even exist prior to ST4).
Let's go back to the Upside Down being Will's mindscape:
Many individuals with dissociative identity disorder (DID) have an internal world in which they or their alters can manifest as themselves and interact. These internal worlds, which are also known as inner worlds or headspaces, can range in size and complexity. x
The Upside Down = Will's internal world. Those that inhabit that world or arose from said world are likely Will's alters. Yes, that includes El, the Mind Flayer, Demogorgons, etc. and of course: Vecna.
Here's another visual clue! A hole in the wall (an opened gate...) at the Byers' house that may have "always been [there]".
I know we are told the gate had opened prior to Nov 6, 1983, and that El had been the one to open that door/gate. But... that's because El herself is Will. She is a personality that had developed from him.
Now, lets talk common DID alter roles and how some of our favourite characters fill these roles to a tee.
El, the Gatekeeper Alter
I talk about the Willel theory here but I'll explain it briefly. El is "the gatekeeper", she is the one who Will lets "front" most of the time. Because remember guys... Will "likes to hide".
El was even compared to Dâart (who came from WillâŚ) see post here.
Also worth noting: Will's abduction in the shed is compared to... the first atomic bomb (used in an act of war) called "Little Boy". Post about that comparison here. What occurs during a nuclear reaction? Nuclear fission. Fission meaning: SPLITTING INTO TWO! Just as we see with the Phineus Gage comparison. That exact moment was when "El" emerged from the UD (Will's mindscape) into "reality". Leading to her becoming... a literal gatekeeper for Will.
She also helps solve Will's dilemma of to stay or to go, as Will himself stays (in the UD) and El goes.
So... what do I mean by âthe gatekeeper"?
A gatekeeper is an alter that controls switching or access to front, access to an internal world or certain areas within it, or access to certain alters or memories. x
Now. Remember guys, we literally see her closing the gate and she (allegedly) was the first to open said gate. She also is heavily associated with repressed memories (the whole NINA plot...)
El has always been protecting Will from facing his trauma and facing himself. That is why we see her "save" him multiple times, why she takes on the role of Mike's romantic partner, why she takes the brunt of the bullies at Lenora, and why Will looks on like a helpless bystander... It is not due to resentment nor cruelty but fear. Will has been hiding behind her this whole time. He is not ready to face his memories, trauma, and the world. Not yet...
The Mind Flayer, the Demon Alter
In abusive groups, a young child can be severely traumatized in order for abusers to intentionally create an alter, and the alter can be tricked into believing they have been possessed by, and have become, a demon. X
This one is pretty self-explanatory, as we literal have a "possession" plot line involving Will. Though, instead of being "possessed", this alter of Will's was fronting.
Vecna, the Persecutor Alter
This is the one I'm most excited (and nervous) to talk about because it is SO fascinating and it matches his character perfectly.
So basically, Vecna is NOT Henry Creel. Vecna is an alter of Will's existing in his hive mind. Hear me out about this.
What I believe is that Henry Creel (or perhaps Edward Creel), was a real person that Will had heard about resulting in him creating an alter based on him. This is called "Factive Introject":
An alter with the form, personality, and possibly the psychological backstory e.g. memories of an outer-world person, whether a relative, a celebrity, or even an acquaintance. x
I believe that when we see "Henry" within both the Rainbow Room AND the Upside Down... this is Will's alter. (The Rainbow Room is likely another inner world of Will's...).
Are you still with me on this? Because lets get into the real evidence here.
What is a persecutor alter?
Persecutors are alters that purposefully harm the body, system, host, core, or other alters, sabotage the systemâs goals or healing, or work to assist the systemâs abuser(s). x
I know that sounds pretty scary, and some easily dismiss persecutor alters as "evil" BUT they are not. Viewing any alters this way is harmful. All alters' goals are to protect the system, even if they may do so in misguided ways.
x
Most persecutor alters start out as protector alters⌠which exactly what we see in the show! âHenryâ is kind and protective towards El (who is another alter).
Then he decides to âkillâ the other kids/alters (I say kill but they will still live on in the mind.)
Lets look at the exact terms used to describe the effects the persecutor alter has on the system...
X
HeadachesâŚ
Internal bullyingâŚ
Increased blank spellsâŚ
Interference with functionâŚ
Self-multilationâŚ
Still have doubts on this? Letâs continueâŚ
x
As I said, the persecutor alter is not "evil", it is a misguided protector. Its goal is to protect and often does this by taking on all the suffering experienced by the host and the alters...
But why? Why does the persecutor alter do such things if the goal is to protect?
X
To prevent the host and alters from disclosing their abuse. Think about this for a moment. What did Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Max all have in common (other than trauma)? They all were seeing the student counsellor Ms. Kelley and revealing to her aspects of their trauma and abuse.
Vecna, as the persecutor alter, was having NONE of that and thus⌠âkilledâ them to protect the system. As he feared the consequences for Will/the system as a whole.
This is VERY telling for Will, because he has long been afraid of opening up about his abuse, trauma, and everythingâŚ
We see this emerge in many forms:
The Byers phone frequently going unanswered throughout the show due to Willâs fear of opening up/communication.
Lonnie telling Jonathan to keep his mouth shut for his momâs sakeâŚ
The rats in ST3. To âratâ = to snitch.
Elâs bullying in ST4. Angela repeatedly refers to her as a âsnitchâ even though she never did snitch.
Papa/the Demogorgon/Neil, the Abuser Alter
x Iâm going to go right out and say this: âPapaâ represents Will's abuser. We see him abuse El, Henry and others in a manner similar to what Will had experienced with Lonnie.
Thatâs why heâs called âPapaâ, as he is a representation of the abusive papa of Will: Lonnie Byers.
Like Henry Creel, he is also likely based off a real person... Richard Brenner perhaps?
"That's what I have to do to keep her close to me. I don't want her going out. Men only want her for one thing and then they hurt her. She doesn't need anyone else but me." In addition to intimidating her so that she would not seek contact with men and risk further abuse, [the abuser alter] was also possessively trying to strengthen her attachment to him. X
This perfectly applies to Brenner's relationship with El, Henry and the others. He wants to isolate them to "protect" them from further abuse. We see this clearly as Brenner prevents El from leaving NINA, at all costs.
Again, even the alter representing the abuser should not be seen as âevilâ. Itâs complicated. All alters are aspect of the host, they are not evil. There are good intentions behind the bad actions.
Other AltersâŚ
So, I believe other characters are also alters of Willâs such as:
Max, Billy, Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, Eddie, Argyle⌠and more. This post is getting far too long for me to expand on that just yet though.
Mike is âThe Keyâ but⌠heâs not the only key
Letâs not forget about Ms Kelley and her key necklace!
Although Mikeâs love will be an incredibly important aspect to saving Hawkins and saving Will⌠Will also needs to open up, face his trauma, and reveal his truth. Keeping all of this bottled up inside is causing far more problemsâŚ
When it comes to treatment for DID, there are different methods. Some include:
Identifying and working through past trauma.
Managing sudden behavioral changes.
Merging separate identities into a single identity. x
The latter being a highly controversial one, and it may not be the right choice for everyone with DID.
Within the show however? We will likely see merging or fusion of some of the characters in the end (we likely already have too...)
We already have foreshadowing of fusion between Will and El:
Robin and Steve discussing the act of "combining" to "solve all [their] problems".
Dustin hugging El and Will only to have El visually disappear during their hug.
El ending the season standing alone in the Upside Down.
In DID there's also a concept called integration, which may not be as extreme as fusion.
The individual must then make the choice of to what extent they want to integrate their alters as part of their healing. Again, some degree of integration is inevitable. The individual must integrate traumatic materials in order to heal from PTSD. As well, enough integration between alters must occur to allow for easy communication, a lack of dissociative amnesia between parts, and a consistent sense of being grounded in the present and in the body. The individual must be able to take responsibility for all of the system's actions, and all alters in the system should work together towards the same goals. x
Basically, Will must become insightful of his condition and see all aspects of himself (all alters) as helpful (even if they may be misguided). It will NOT help him to simply "kill" any alters, that will not work. He must accept himself for who he is. He must learn to love all aspects of himself.
I wonât touch on it here, but I will just mention that Iâm very confident the show will end with another realm/internal world thatâs beautiful and full of life. Implying that Will has finally found some peace of mind. I talk about it in this post.
#I donât think you guys are ready for this oneâŚâŚâŚâŚ.#most controversial post yet#stranger things#Stranger things theory#Will Byers#byler#Vecna
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Since I'm A Solution-Oriented Person, Instead Of Crying, Here's What I'll I Advise Every American And Everyone Else, Who Wants To Hear It
GET TOGETHER AND STAY TOGETHER
The Right and Fascists thrive on division of their opposition. Don't preocuppy yourself with infighting.
You never wanted politics to be a fight, but they've made it one. So remember who your enemies are, and what people can achieve when they have a common threat.
If you're in a red state and are fearing for the life and well-being of you and/or people you know, GET OUT NOW. You have a month until inauguration, so, if you can't leave the country, move to a blue state.
While it is, of course, no guarantee for safety against the MAGA cult, the comparatively limited power of the US federal government over citizens and state governments should buy you some time to prepare for a Trump Nazi Regime and/or WWIII or a second US Civil War.
DON'T DENY THE ELECTION RESULT
I know it's comfortable to think that most Americans wouldn't be so insane to re-elect Trump, but that's not true. The race was pretty much 50/50 and winning over the battleground states put Trump over the edge. There's also the fact that, while a ~65% voter turnout is pretty good for a democratic country, that still means that half of eligible American voters did not vote. So, whatever their ideals are, they did not participate in the choice that impacts them, every other American and, due to the US' status, the rest of the world.
Remember, Hitler too was democratically elected. None of the reasons with which Hitler and Trump convinced voters are real things, but still, those voters believed them and made their choice. May they shamefully rot in the worst pages of future history books, but they made their choice.
This is the inherent risk of democracy: That people can always choose to ruin it.
I'M NOT GOING TO MINCE WORDS:
CORRECTION: I previously claimed that the voter turnout was ~50%, when, in reality, it was around 65%. This is strong for a genuine democracy (fake democracies can obviously force people to vote at gunpoint, or just make up voter statistics), but this still means that a third of the country did not vote and that Trump was elected by a third of the country, not even 50% of the population. By that logic, any election with a voter turnout below 100% would not represent the genuine majority, but you get my point. The reality is that both a lot of American non-voters and Trump voters live in rural areas where the rest of the world, outside their community, might as well not exist. So, of course, they can, for example, take Trump's word on the LGBTQ+ community, because they know so little about the world that they can be told anything and also won't vote responsibly, as, if, for example, there's no LGBTQ+ person in their community, they have no way of knowing what these people, their issues and the threats they face actually are like. A lot of voters also don't care about politics and just vote for the guy everyone else is voting for, or the guy who's face they like better. (I'm not making this up, people from multiple countries have legitimately stated that they vote based on politician hotness.) It's strange, because this type of rural unknowingness is usually typical for countries that are undeveloped and autocratic, so one wouldn't expect it from the richest country where the elections define so much. I guess it's the US' federal system and libertarian economy that have led to this extreme compartmentalization of society, where communities are essentially as different from each other as Stone Age-villages.
WITH TRUMP RE-ELECTED, DEPENDING ON HIS CHOICES, THERE WILL BE WORLD WAR III OR A SECOND AMERICAN CIVIL WAR
I'm not paranoid for saying this, as former US Armed Forces Chief of Staff General Mark Milley, who served two years under Trump and Biden, has stated in an interview with The Atlantic that he and others had to stop Trump from launching nuclear missiles at North Korea multiple times in 2018.
ON A POTENTIAL WORLD WAR III
WWIII means a nuclear holocaust, meaning hundreds of millions of deaths around the entire world within half an hour of the war turning nuclear and billions of deaths in the years following, no way around it.
Cities and areas near government and military instalations in nuclear-armed countries (USA, russia, China, Israel, Iran, India, Pakistan, North Korea, United Kingdom and France) will be most affected, but that doesn't mean those will be the only places to be nuked or affected.
Decades of many nations' strategists' deliberations during the Cold War, the period of tension between the US-led NATO and Soviet russian-led Warsaw Pact after the end of WWII in 1945, which in and for itself ended with the collapse of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics in 1991, came to the same conclusion - If another World War occurs, it will be nuclear and it will be global. It can't even really be called a war, as the world's nuclear powers have had the capacity to annihilate each other's militaries and economies within half an hour ever since 1950.
Since then, WWIII hasn't happened due to powerful people being aware of this and due to multiple courageous individuals who chose right in close calls. For example, President Kennedy maintained a cool head during the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, during which, for the uninitiated, NATO and the USSR got extremely close to a nuclear war, as they both deployed nuclear missiles right at each others' doorsteps. In that crisis, too, Soviet Naval Officer Vasili Arkhipov prevented his submarine from launching nuclear weapons at the US when the submarine lost contact with Moscow and other officers thought a nuclear war had started and Moscow had been destroyed. In 1983, when the Soviet Politburo had become so paranoid that they believed their own propaganda about an impending attack by NATO, their nuclear forces were on such high alert that a malfunctioning Soviet spy satellite sending a false alarm about an American nuclear launch nearly caused them to launch in what they thought would be retaliation. At that time, the Soviet Command Officer Stanislav Petrov however figured that the computer at his base, which displayed the warning and which had been installed just the day before, was malfunctioning and chose not to relay the alarm to the rest of Soviet command.
Now, much misinformation has been spread around atomic energy and nuclear weapons. Here's the reality about nukes:
Almost all of the aforementioned nuclear powers have the capacity to launch a nuke at any target in the world within minutes, as nuclear missiles, especially Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles (ICBMs) can reach insane hypersonic speeds, faster than anything that could shoot them down before the nuclear warheads start the detonation sequence.
While we're talking about the US, the aforementioned decades of deliberation have concluded that is impossible for any country to fire a nuke without it soon turning into a war between all nuclear powers with their nukes. Nukes are just too destructive for decision-makers to not panic in that event.
The currently existing nukes are spread as follows:
USA: ~5500 nuclear warheads total, how many of those are ready-to-launch is classified, launch means are silo-launched Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles with Multiple Independent Reentry Vehicle (MIRV) warheads (meaning one missile can drop nukes on multiple targets), Intermediate-Range Ballistic Missiles (IRBMs), Short-Range Ballistic Missiles (SRBMs), Ground-, Air- and Sea-launched Cruise Missiles, Air-dropped bombs, Submarine-Launched Ballistic Missiles (SLBMs) with MIRV warheads
russia: ~6000 nuclear warheads total, readiness same as above, launch means are silo- and truck-launched ICBMs with MIRV warheads, IRBMs, SRBMs, Ground-, Air- and Sea-launched Cruise Missiles, Air-dropped bombs, SLBMs with MIRV warheads
China: ~250 nuclear warheads total, readiness same as above, launch means are ICBMs, cruise missiles and SLBMs
Israel: ~100 nuclear warheads total, readiness same as above, launch means are cruise missiles and SLBMs
India: ~100 nuclear warheads total, readiness same as above, launch means are ICBMs, cruise missiles and SLBMs
Pakistan: ~100 nuclear warheads total, readiness same as above, launch means unknown
United Kingdom: ~200 nuclear warheads total, readiness same as above, launch means are cruise missiles and SLBMs
France: ~100 nuclear warheads total, readiness same as above, launch means are cruise missiles and SLBMs
Iran: Does officially not have nuclear weapons, can factually assemble some nuclear warheads within weeks, launch means unknown
North Korea: Official number of nuclear warheads classified, most likely ~30, readiness unknown, launch means are ICBMs, IRBMs, SRBMs and cruise missiles
Nukes cause unrivaled destruction over tens of kilometers with their explosion, emit a flash of Gamma radiation in the moment of their explosion, cause massive shockwaves and fires, can blind people with the brightness of the flash of Gamma radiation and cause long-lasting contamination with dangerous radiation via fallout.
Gamma radiation caused by the initial nuclear fission of a nuke last extremely short. This radiation is quickly lethal, but so fast that is gone within milliseconds. Anyone too close to the source will, however, be hit by so much of said radiation, that they will get extreme Accute Radiation Syndrome (ARS), also known as radiation poisoning, and die within hours, as Gamma radiation is so strong that, in high enough concentration, it passes through the human body and rips out the electrons from the atoms which cellular tissue is made of, degrading them to Ions. (Hence the term 'Ionizing Radiation')
Ions, unlike atoms, are way less stable, meaning that cellular tissue that has been ionized can't uphold itself and falls apart.
The other type of ionizing radiation from nuclear bombs, Neutron radiation, works the same way, but lasts much longer than Gamma radiation. Unlike Gamma radiation, it sticks to most materials, causing them to give off Neutron radiation for years. This is the radiation hazard that comes from fallout. Fallout is the soot kicked up by the explosion, which originates from everything it pulverized. The immense heat causes it to first be carried upwards, forming the characteristic mushroom cloud, before the air cools and allows the now irradiated soot to fall out (hence the name) and back onto the ground. It is affected by wind and weather.
To avoid both types of radiation, the first factor is distance. Any amount of radiation still consists of individual particles that race through the cosmos, so the further away you are from the source, the less likely for its rays to hit you, as they travel in a straight line.
The second factor is cover. Like everything else, ionizing rays can get through certain things and can't get through others. Gamma rays get through everything with a lower density than multiple centimeters of lead and Neutron rays get through anything with a lower density than multiple meters of concrete. So, being underground or in the center of extremely thick buildings, as well as having resources necessary for survival, is key to surviving radiation after a nuke explodes.
The third factor is time. The human body can withstand different levels of radiation for different amounts of time. The easiest way to figure out how long you can stay exposed to how much, is with a dosimeter.
SO, YES, I AM TELLING YOU TO START DOOMSDAY PREPPING
The essentials, of which you should amass a stock that will last you multiple years in a secure location:
Non-perishable canned food
ABSURD amounts of drinking water
Distilled water for hygiene
Nonperishable Grain-based food
Long-lasting milk
Dried fruit and nuts
Eggs
Flour
Sugar
Honey
Salt
Black pepper (hurts like hell, but can be used as a coagulant to stop wounds from bleeding)
Paper towels
Trash bags
Hygiene gloves
Breathing masks
As much replacement clothing, especially outdoors and warm clothing, as you can get
Water treatment tools
Camping cooking equipment
Easily useable heat sources
Tools (Wrench, File, Screwdriver, Crowbar, Fire extinguisher, Knives, Compass, Hammer, Shovel, Pickaxe)
Physical maps
Hand crank-powered radio
Many spare batteries
Many spare rechargeable batteries
Battery charger
Means of power generation (hand crank, solar)
Flashlight
Radio phone
Backpacks
All the medicines you need
Bandages
Hygiene products
Antibiotics
Medicines against cold
Medicines against diarrhea
Disinfectant
Pastes against insect bites
Pastes against sunburn
Soap
Dosimeter
Geiger counter
Hazardous enviroments clothing
Helmets
Gloves
Cups
Buckets
Canisters for water
History books
Important works
A laptop
A smartphone
A camera (don't need it if you have a smartphone)
Print out important documents on put them in a folder
Analog data storage
Physical data storage (hard drives, flash drives, CDs, SD cards)
Devices to read data storage
Means for self-defense
Emergency plans with people you know
Similarly, a second American Civil War would also need Americans to prepare, in order to survive.
IF YOU LIVE ANYWHERE THAT'S NOT THE US, YOU WILL BE AFFECTED, TOO
Don't think the US are far enough away. Of course, the aforementioned nuclear war would affect you, but a second American Civil War and just Trump being re-elected will, too.
Even without WWIII or a second American Civil War, it's pretty clear that:
In Europe, this will invigorate the similar far-Right movements to bring about similar destructive changes as those Trump wants.
Trump will most likely abandon Ukraine like Afghanistan, meaning russia taking it over and attacking Western European countries afterward. Trump is completely on Putin's side and will also destroy NATO, meaning all of the US' allies, including those in Europe, will be abandoned. I live in Germany, which is seeing a rise in popularity by the far-Right AfD party, and which does not have the military means to defend itself against russian expansionism without the US.
With russia's war against Ukraine, China will feel invigorated to annex Taiwan, and just like with Ukraine, nationalist and authoritarian Trump will not do anything to stop it.
South Korea could be abandoned in the face of North Korea.
Trump will continue to support Israel in the Western Right's extremely hypocritical manner, most likely ordering more US military action in the Middle East.
ULTIMATELY, GIVE THEM THE FIGHT THEY WANT
I know that we liberals, progressives, people who don't care about politics and just want to build their own life and even former conservatives who deemed far-Righters like Trump too radical, never wanted a fight. We never wanted to fight for our values in Western society, against the values of those who demonize us. We were always ready to coexist with them, if only each side kept to themselves with living out its values and didn't impair the other.
But the far-Right fascists and religious zealots, with their leaders who don't mean a word of what they say and say anything they want to get power, have made this a fight. By electing a US President who promised to destroy democracy, eliminate women's and LGBTQ+ rights, oppress non-white ethnicities, censor media, give churches and capitalists unprecedented power and abandon all allied nations, the far-Right has declared war on everyone and everything that's true, moral or even just acceptable. Let's remember that they hate diversity, and that we are from many more groups and walks of life than them. Let's use this to our advantage and show to the fascists what happens when you give different people a common enemy.
#news#politics#world events#us politics#usa politics#us news#usa news#us#usa#united states#united states of america#potus#potus 2024#president#president 2024#election 2024#us elections#usa elections#potus election 2024#2024 presidential election#trump#fuck trump#trump is a threat to democracy#trump is the enemy of the people#society#lgbt#lgbt+#lgbtq#lgbtq+#democracy
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Your doctor isn't always right.
This'll be a long one. No tl;dr
I see a lot of rhetoric about "doctor shopping" and "your doctor is obviously right, quit trying to claim an illness that isn't yours" and other such nonsense. So I'm here to tell you why these guys suck and why they're wrong.
I'd like everyone to keep in mind that I am studying brain science, I readily admit that, due to my health issues, I could have died without my doctors. I am firmly pro-science and pro-medicine. However.
I was actually going to type up this post a few weeks back and then the universe smacked me with a relevant situation. For some context, I recently moved back to Ohio. I had lived in NY for the past few years due to traumatic circumstances and had not received any care for my disabilities at the time. Considering one of my issues is Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (my joints and connective tissue are loosey-goosey and don't work right) and EDS causes me severe pain from constant rib dislocations/subluxations, I went to go get pain management from a specialist as soon as I was back.
This "specialist" (literally the head of the relevant department) told me there was no way that I had EDS despite my relevant testing and family history, started testing me for the WRONG illness (Marfan's, which you can tell by looking at me I do not have) and then, despite his admittance he doesn't know much about EDS, proclaimed I don't have it and it wasn't worth seeking any help. And he obviously did shit for my pain. He also said this about my proven autoimmunity.
Fast forward to two weeks ago. At the ripe old age of 30 and relatively good health despite my disabilities, I had a real stroke. Not only is this highly unusual for my age and health, it was a very, very specific type of stroke that is highly indicative of a much more dangerous type of EDS than my previous specialists had ever thought. And now I need extremely expensive and hard-to-get approved genetic testing. I have therapies several times a week and in a month I see a neurologist. Specifically, a stroke specialist where I will likely be the youngest person in the waiting room by at least 20 years.
This doctor could have killed me. He could have permanently crippled me beyond repair due to his advice. I legitimately thought I was dying. I have lost parts of my life and activities vital to my sense of self that I will never get back and I am very early on a very long road to recovery. Because my doctor was wrong. And I'll sure as shit be suing him.
So if you think your doctor is wrong, I want you to ignore every single asshole tumblerite telling you that your doctor knows best and knows better than you do. Seek that second opinion. Or your third! Or your fourth! I went through five doctors before I found one that actually knew what he was talking about and could help my dysautonomia symptoms for real. There is merit to talking about diagnosis hunting and being more sure than you should be. But doctors are not perfect. Malpractice kills people. Follow your gut feeling and find someone who knows how to talk about it. Shutting up and ignoring that feeling could get you hurt.
#syscourse#<- Because I've mostly seen this in the plural/multiple community#but this honestly applies in every area I can think of#EDS#POTS#dysautonomia#medical malpractice#stroke survivor#chronic illness#everyone makes mistakes#even professionals#sysconversation#syscussion#did osdd#did system#cdd system
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stanford pines x reader
Look Me in the Eye
summary: based on a daisy jones and the six scene! a one shot in which ford comes home from a crazy night with bill, pushing you to your limit
warnings: a slap from reader to ford. gender neutral reader! this one shot came from a chapter of my actual oc story about ford but i made it gender neutral x reader because iâm so proud of this scene.
word count: 4.4k
With Fiddleford back home for Thanksgiving and the portal on a brief hiatus, youâd think Ford would take that chance to be home. But he doesnât; he keeps working. So, you decide to try and get some work done too. Writing hasnât come easy, though.
Ford is God knows where, and youâre sitting at your piano, staring at the keys, waiting for the words to come. At this point, a part of you has accepted that the Ford you married is somewhere deep in the back of his brain. He said he would do better, but he hasnât. You think back to your cousin and how you swore that you wouldnât let yourself end up like thatâin a small town with a deadbeat partner and a baby.
The only thing you donât have out of those things is a baby, which you donât want. When you were younger, you always saw yourself having kids. But when you marry a human, itâs a little strange to think about. Itâs unknown if you could even have kids together. There were legends back home about two humans in the demon realm, and one of them married and had a baby with a witch.
You do a mini birth control spell that youâre not even sure works. Well, itâs worked so farâyou havenât gotten pregnant yet. Ford wouldnât give a damn about a baby anyway, so why even put it at the forefront of your mind? And youâre fine without kids. Youâre not one of those people who craved kids their whole life and dreamed about what life with children would look like.
You always assumed it would happen if it happened. And with Ford, itâs not happening. These past few months have proven that more than ever because heâs rarely home. The way most couples go out to dinner at the end of a long day, you and Ford go out to breakfast two or three times a week. But heâs usually trying to hide the fact that heâs rushing to get back to work.
His attempt at spending time with you is noted but not necessarily accepted.
The door creaks open, and you hear the unsteady shuffle of Fordâs footsteps before you see him. He stumbles into the room, shirtless, his hair a tangled mess, eyes glassy, and reeking of alcohol. He stands there in the doorway, looking at you with a mix of shame and regret, unable to meet your gaze for long. He tries to speak, but the words fumble out, barely coherent.
âFord,â you breathe, your voice wavering between anger and concern. You step closer to him, looking at how droopy and tired his eyes look. âWhat happened to you?â
âI⌠I know Bill took it too far this time, but it doesnât⌠it doesnât mean anything. Itâs notââ Heâs almost nonverbal, his normally sharp mind dulled by the alcohol and Billâs lingering influence. When you see new tattoos on his body, you lose it.
âWhat the fuck do you think youâre doing, Ford? What the fuck is wrong with you?â You demand. He doesnât even look at you; his mind is completely somewhere else. Itâs as if Ford isnât even in there right now.
Before he can respond, you close the distance between you, and your hand connects with his face in a swift, stinging slap. Given that youâre smaller than him, it doesnât do much other than make him look at you. Ford looks at you, stunned, his hand moving slowly to his cheek where your slap left its mark and a slight stinging pain.
âYou come home like this,â you say, your voice breaking as tears well up in your eyes. âAfter everything, you think you can just brush it off? You think you can say it doesnât mean anything and thatâs supposed to be enough?â
Fordâs lips tremble, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and sorrow. He wants to tell you how sorry he is, how much he hates himself for what heâs become, but the words wonât come.
âWhat happened to the man I married?â you continue, your voice softer now, though no less pained. âWhereâs the Ford who would move mountains for me, who promised weâd get through anything together? Because thisâŚâ You gesture at him, tears finally spilling over. âThis isnât the man I fell in love with.â
Fordâs eyes fill with tears, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. He knows heâs the cause, knows that heâs pushed you to the edge, but he still canât let go of the work, of the promises he made to Bill. But none of that matters nowânot when he sees how much heâs hurting you.
âIâm so sorry,â he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. âI⌠itâs Bill, but Iââ
âSo, who do I blame?â you ask, and he doesnât have an answer. âWho the fuck do you think you are, acting like this? You come home from doing God knows what, God knows where, and have the nerve to try to defend Bill? After all of this bullshit, you still think heâs someone worth putting up with?â
You look at him, your anger slowly giving way to a deep, aching sadness. You still love himâGod, you love him so muchâbut this version of Ford, the one whoâs been consumed by his work and Billâs influence, is breaking your heart piece by piece.
âI love you, Ford. I love you so much it hurts, but I canât keep doing this. I canât keep watching you destroy yourself⌠and us.â Your voice trembles as you take a step back, the space between you feeling like a chasm.
âPlease⌠I donât want to lose you. I love you more than anything. Iâm sorry.â Ford reaches out to you, desperation in his eyes.
You hesitate, looking at the man you married, the one youâve been trying to hold on to, but you canât shake the fear that heâs already slipping away.
âYouâre losing me, Stanford.â You shake your head as another tear falls, and itâs like everything comes bubbling over all at once.
Ford reaches out, desperate to close the distance between you, but you step back, gently pushing him away. Your hands, though soft against his chest, carry the weight of all the anger and hurt youâve been holding in.
âGo take a shower, Ford,â you say, your voice trembling but firm. âIâm not going to talk to you again until you do.â
Your words hit him like a cold splash of reality. He can see the resolve in your eyes, the line youâre drawing in the sand. Youâre not just angry; youâre doneâat least for now. Ford hesitates, wanting to say something, anything to make this right, but the look on your face tells him that words wonât fix this. Not this time.
He nods, defeated, and turns away, heading for the bathroom. The sound of the door closing behind him feels like a finality heâs not ready to face. He lingers for a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob, hoping youâll say somethingâanythingâto stop him from leaving the room. But you donât.
As he steps into the shower, the hot water cascades over him, washing away the grime and sweat from the night, but it does nothing to ease the weight on his chest. He leans against the tiled wall, water mingling with the tears heâs been holding back.
His heart breaks. He knew after every other little crack in your relationship that this was coming. But nothing couldâve made him ready for the day you finally snapped. And he knows you donât believe he loves you as much as he does, which kills him.
Meanwhile, you watch him disappear into the bathroom, your heart heavy with the love you still feel for him, mixed with the deep-seated pain of watching him spiral. You turn on your heel, walking away, needing the space to gather yourself before you can even think about facing him again. As you move through your home, every room feels colder and emptier, and you canât shake the fear that the warmth you once shared might be slipping away for good.
After all that, you feel like you need a shower too. You canât believe you said all that and exploded. It felt like it was a long time coming and this was the final straw. His coming home like that, completely shameless, made you feel an anger you hadnât felt before. Anger because you always said you could do better than your family, but heâs making you feel the same as they did.
When Ford finally emerges, clean but still burdened, he heads into your bedroom. He notices you sitting there with red, puffy eyes. He doesnât know what to do; he doesnât know how to fix this.
âIâm sorry for how I reacted, but you have to know how pissed I am,â you speak first as he takes a seat beside you on the bed. âIf you donât love me anymore, just say it. Youâre never around anymore, and when you are, it seems like you just want to get away from me. Itâs fine if you donât love me anymore; Iâd be heartbroken, but Iâd be okay. Iâd be even more heartbroken if you kept me hanging around here when itâs just me who still loves you.â
Ford feels his throat tighten at your words, guilt and sorrow gnawing at him. He opens his mouth to respond, but the words catch in his throat. How can he make you understand that his distance has never been about a lack of love? How can he convince you that despite everything, youâre still the most important part of his life?
âI always promised myself I wouldnât be this,â you start. âSitting around as if I need someone. I never wanted to be the person stuck at home, trotting around at the geniusâ heels. Especially not with someone who doesnâtâwho might notââ your voice trembles, and he quickly jumps in.
âI do love you,â he finally whispers, his voice hoarse. âI love you more than anything. Iâm just⌠lost. This work, everything Iâve been doingâitâs consumed me, and I know Iâve let it come between us. But please, donât ever think that I donât love you. Thatâs the furthest thing from the truth.â
You listen, your eyes searching his face for sincerity. You can see the regret there, the deep sadness in his eyes, but youâve heard apologies before. You need more than just words. Ford reaches out, taking your hand in his, holding it like a lifeline. He can feel your fingers trembling, and it breaks his heart all over again.
âI know Iâve been terrible,â he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. âIâve been so wrapped up in my work that Iâve neglected you, neglected us. But I donât want to lose you. I canât lose you. Iâll do betterâI promise Iâll do better.â
âHow many times have we had this conversation, Ford? IâIâm getting tired,â you breathe out.
âI mean, what do you want me to tell you here? Do you want me to say Iâm never gonna work with Bill again? Because I canât! I need him.â Ford tries.
âNo, you donât!â you slightly raise your voice before sighing.
âDo you want me to just stop working so you can be making money and supporting me while I do nothing? I mean, fuck, youâre not exactly writing or anything right now,â he breathes out.
âIâm trying,â you say firmly.
âI canât⌠I canât lose so youâre comfortable! I canât lose because you canât win,â he raises his voice.
And then itâs quiet for a moment. Neither of you speaks, but Ford instantly regrets it.
âI donât know how much longer I can do this,â your voice breaks.
Heâs failed you in so many ways, and heâs terrified that it might be too late to fix things. But as he looks into your eyes, he knows he has to try.
âIâm sorry, Iâm so sorry. Iâll do whatever it takes to make this right,â he says, his voice trembling with conviction. âJust⌠please donât give up on me. Donât give up on us.â
âI donât believe you,â you cry, and he slightly stiffens. âI mean, did you hear what you just said? I need to go for a drive or something.â
âWait, please,â he starts, but youâre already standing up and trying to leave. âIâm so in love with you it feels like I canât breathe when Iâm not with you!â
As you try to walk out as quickly as possible to hide your tears, he sees your hand come up to wipe them.
âPlease donât go,â he begs, finally catching up with you and placing his hands on your shoulders. âPlease, just hear me out.â
âIâll hear you out later, I just need a minute. I donât want to give up on this, but I just⌠I need a coffee or something,â you look him in the eyes, and everything in him softens.
âOkay,â he breathes out. âJust⌠please, come home to me.â
âI will. Iâll be back soon,â you nod.
Ford watches helplessly as you leave. The door clicks shut behind you, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. His heart aches with a pain he canât describe, but he doesnât have the time to wallow. The moment youâre gone, something snaps inside him, and he storms back into his office.
Once inside, Ford slams the door shut and collapses into his chair, his body shaking as the tears finally break free. He buries his face in his hands, the sobs wracking his body with a force he hasnât felt in years. All of the pain, the regret, the self-loathingâit all comes pouring out in a way that feels like it could tear him apart.
But before he can even begin to regain control, he senses a familiar presence. The air in the room changes, becoming thick with an ominous energy that Ford knows all too well.
"Why the long face, Sixer?" Billâs voice cuts through the silence. "Having a little loverâs quarrel?"
Ford lifts his head, his bloodshot eyes meeting Billâs glowing form. Rage surges through him, raw and untamed.
"This is your fault," he yells. "Youâve ruined everything!"
"Me? Ruin? Oh, come on, Fordsy. You know this was bound to happen. Youâre the one whoâs been pushing them away, not me." Bill laughs, the sound echoing eerily off the walls. Fordâs fists clench at his sides, the anger building to a boiling point.
"I wouldnât be in this mess if it werenât for you!" he shouts, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. "My marriage is falling apart because of you!"
"Oh, donât be so dramatic," Bill taunts, his voice dripping with condescension. "You think I made you neglect them? Do you think I made you ignore all those signs? Thatâs all you, pal. I see everything, and theyâve been telling you how they feel like every day. Itâs not my fault you donât care enough to do anything about it."
"I- why did you have to go so crazy in my body? I respect you, and Iâm still finishing the portal, but what the hell? At the end of the day, I wouldnât be in this situation if it werenât for you." Ford glares.
"You think finishing that portal is going to fix your problems? Oh, Fordsy, youâre in way over your head. Stop blaming me. Itâs not my fault you want to see me more than your own spouse." Bill laughs.
"Maybe you canât process emotions like this, but theyâre the love of my life. Before them, I hadnât really dated anyone, and I wasnât even sleeping around or anything; I was a loser. The only reason I ended up with someone as incredible as them without ruining it, like usual, is because I saw them as an anomaly at first. I didnât think I was flirting or anything. I donât know what Iâd do if they left me. I wouldnât even know what love is without them. You need to think about what your actions can mean for other people, Bill." Ford turns back to Bill.
"Clearly, youâre the one that needs to think about your actions. Isnât it crazy that if you neglect someoneâs feelings, they wonât want to be with you anymore? Even I can understand that!" Bill laughs, and Ford just stands up.
Ford sits there for a moment before he decides he canât take it anymore. He stands up and heads to the music room. Bill yells things as he walks away, but Ford doesnât hear it. He heads straight for a notebook full of songs theyâve written. His heart is racing as he opens it and sees so many that he hasnât even heard yet.
In fact, this is a new notebook almost full of songs he hasnât heard except for a few at the beginning. Have they not tried to show him, or has he not tried to listen? He reads the sad lyrics of almost every song, lyrics about feeling lonely when with someone you love and waking up alone. Songs about how they try to convince themselves that theyâre a part of his life but not feeling like it. When did he start pulling away from them?
You sit in your car with a to-go cup of coffee, unsure if you should drive home yet or simmer for a little while longer. Your fingers tap on the warm cup as you try to think clearly. Your love for Ford is swarming every inch of your mind. But you know you shouldnât accept what you donât deserve, and you know you havenât done anything to deserve this.
The version of you before Ford wouldâve threatened a divorce already to try and scare him. You donât want to do that now, but you want him to realize that you canât keep living like this. You canât keep following in his stride instead of walking beside him. Youâve won ten Grammys; itâs not as if youâre unaccomplished with no other options but to stay with him.
But you want to stay with him. Ford is so loving and warm. No one has ever loved you the way he has. Hell, no one other than Ford has seen you as more than a one-night thing. And you love him so much. You canât help but wonder if maybe thereâs something here for you to try to understand that you donât already.
You look at the ring on your fingerâhis ring. And you donât feel like other people have described, like itâs a handcuff or a jail cell thatâs keeping you locked to him. You love being married to Ford. Saying you donât and never did would be a complete lie. You just donât love being mostly ignored by the man you love.
For someone so smart, he can be such an idiot sometimes. Letting some kind of entity possess his body whenever it pleases is a new low. Is that my problem? Bill? you think. Itâs not right to you that his weakest self gets to decide how your life is going to turn out; you get to decide that. And what you want is a lifeâa beautiful marriage, a homeâwith him. With the man you know he truly is. And youâre going to get it, hell or high water.
You take a deep breath, your eyes still fixed on the ring as you turn it around your finger. The thought of a future without Ford makes your heart ache, but you know you deserve better, and you know Ford is capable of giving it to youâif he just realized how much you mean to him, how much you mean to each other.
You sip your coffee, the warmth grounding you, giving you the clarity you need. You know you have limits. If Ford canât see the toll his actions are taking on your marriage, then you have to make him see it. You have to stand up for yourself, for what you want, and for the life you could have together.
You start the car, the decision made. Youâre going to drive home and talk to himânot in anger or frustration, but with the love thatâs still there, burning so fiercely in your heart. Youâre going to make him understand whatâs at stakeânot just your marriage, but everything youâve built together.
As you drive, the road blurs slightly through your unshed tears, but you blink them away. You canât afford to lose focus now. Ford needs to know that youâre serious, that this isnât just another fight that will blow over. This is your future, and you wonât let it slip away without a fight.
When you pull up to the house, your resolve only strengthens. You take a deep breath before stepping out of the car, the ring on your finger feeling like a lifeline rather than a chain. You walk into the house, finding Ford sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looks up as you enter, and the relief in his eyes is almost overwhelming.
âFordâŚâ you begin, your voice thick with emotion, but you hold up a hand to stop him as he tries to respond.
âFord, I need you to listen to me,â you say firmly, though your voice trembles slightly. You sit down beside him, taking his hands in yours. âI love you more than anything in this world, but I canât keep living like this. I canât keep being the one whoâs always trying to catch up to you, to your work, to everything else that seems to matter more than me or my feelings.â
His eyes widen in panic, and he starts to speak, but you squeeze his hands, stopping him again.
âNo, Ford. Let me finish,â you continue, your voice soft but steady. âYouâve always been so loving, so warm, and Iâve never felt like this with anyone else. But you know me, and you know Iâm not the type to ignore the fact that Iâve felt more like an afterthought lately. And it hurts. It really, really hurts.â
âPlease, Iââ Fordâs face crumples, and you can see the guilt and regret swirling in his eyes.
âI donât want to threaten you with divorce or give you an ultimatum,â you say, your voice breaking slightly. âBut I need you to understand that if weâre going to make this work, you need to start seeing me as your partner again, not just someone whoâs here to support you while you chase after your dreams. We need to be in this together, walking side by sideânot with me always trying to catch up.â
Ford looks at you with such intensity that it nearly takes your breath away. His eyes are red and puffy too, his fingers nervously moving his ring in circles on his finger.
âYouâre right,â he finally says, his voice hoarse. âIâve been an idiot, and Iâve taken you for granted. But I swear to you, Iâll do whatever it takes to fix this. You mean everything to me, and I canât imagine my life without you in it. You make me want to be better, not just for you, but for us. And Iâm going to prove it to you. I donât want to lose this with you, and Iâm so sorry that Iâve hurt you. Just⌠please, donât go. Iâm still yours. My heart is always gonna be yours. You are the one I want.â
âI just want you to see me, Ford. Really see me. Iâm not asking you to give up your work, but I need you to find a balance, to make room for us in your life. Because I canât keep doing this if things donât change.â You nod, tears spilling over your lashes as you squeeze his hands.
âI see you. I promise I see you,â Ford whispers, pulling you into his arms. âAnd Iâm going to show you just how much you mean to me. I wonât let you down again. And those arenât just empty promisesâI mean every word I say to you.â
As you hold each other, the tension begins to melt away, replaced by the hope that you can find your way back to each other. It wonât be easy, but you know itâs possible. And for the first time in a long time, you believe that you can make it work. Ford pulls back slightly, his gaze locking with yours.
âIâve never loved anyone like I love you,â he says, his voice thick with emotion. âI didnât date anyone in high school or collegeâI was too focused on my work. Hell, Iâve only slept with four people in my life, and youâre the only one who wanted me after that. Youâre the only one who stayed the morning after and kissed me and smiled at me. You looked so perfect then, and it wouldâve been impossible not to want more with you. Youâre the reason I want to be better, the reason I want to wake up every morning. And I donât know how I got so lucky to have you in my life, but Iâm not going to take it for granted anymore. I promise you that.â
âOkay.â You nod for a moment before bringing his lips to yours.
He sinks into you, and the next thing he knows, heâs on top of you on the couch. Both of your hands are desperate as your lips talk. And he thinks, while this is happening, that you are worth everything to him. He didnât think any of this would be happening when he first got out of high school and his life was in front of him. He never thought he would even have a spouse, let alone be kissing you with his body between your legs in your home on a quiet November night.
And the further things go, he realizes that he hasnât touched you like this since your most recent talk about him neglecting you before tonight. Seasons changed, months passed, and he was too wrapped up in whatever he was doing to just exist with you, which is what he loved doing when you first met.
#ford pines#gravity falls#gravity falls ford#stanford pines x reader#ford pines x reader#stanford pines#gravity falls stanford#stanford x reader#ford x reader#bill x ford#grunkle ford#Spotify
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sort of an offshoot of that post about video game characters but I think I've mentioned before the third person v. first person split in D&D, namely, do you say "I attack it with my scimitar" or "Drizzt attacks with his scimitar". This is a well-known thing in TTRPGs, I'm sure you can find more intelligent discussion about it, but it's come up for me specifically in that a lot of old-school D&D players skew hard towards third person and often they are less interested in actual play, because they see D&D as a narrative tool. There's no self-inserts; they are narrating the exploits of a guy they made. And so the parasocial elements (which are not necessarily bad, it just depends, and that's another post) have no appeal, and even things like accents don't really.
I don't think third person vs. first person necessarily means "not a self insert vs. self insert." I switch between the two and often use first person. But I don't feel like any D&D character I've played is a self-insert. They have aspects of me, sure, because of course they do, I need to be able to play them and try to think like them, but I think in a game where death and failure are really possible and where you must collaborate and where your options are rather limited - because even in D&D, they are limited by the type of game it is - it's actually vital to separate yourself out from your character.
It comes down to something I've said a lot about so many things in fiction (but yeah, this does bleed into real life): are you able to accept a character who is not like you? Are you able to accept a character who might make wildly different choices than you would? Is your capacity to empathize or see a character as a person limited by them specifically hitting some demographic or philosophical targets you have constructed? Can you, even in a low risk, fictional environment, let yourself be different from how you are.
this seems very silly but I think I may have alluded to Justin McElroy talking about not being able to play fat characters in most games, and so he often just plays characters who do not look a thing like him. He often plays as a woman of color. (I don't recall where this came up? I think it might have been on an ancient polygon video or maybe commentary on one of the TAZ seasons? I'd love to find it again). And I think that's actually really great that this was his instinct. I don't want to diminish the importance of RPGs and TTRPGs for self-discovery; obviously it's been a place for many people to explore gender and sexuality, especially, and I do not want to take away the ability for someone to play as a woman in a game before you feel like you can live as a woman publicly in real life (and notably my issues with the BG3 and Inquisition player characters are not ones of gender/sex/race, ie, I think it is personality and background that might need to be more pre-determined). But yeah, if you cannot connect with characters who aren't like you that's a problem, and it does feel a little frustrating that we know that centering a self-insert OC type makes for a worse story and people still want that.
I've always been intrigued by pre-made sheets in TTRPGs where you are limited in some way, not in a dumb "oh my god you can't play a druid bc I'm a weird vindictive dude mad that your nature magic beats my weaponry" way but just as an exploration of having to walk a mile in other people's shoes and to be a person other than one that you created to exist within your comfort zone. Because a lot of people aren't Justin, and do play themselves or as close to it as they can, regardless of what is happening around them, and I think that is a mistake.
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kiss me
nicholas chavez x reader
summary: is it a coincidence that nicholas and y/n keep running into each other during the busiest time of the year
a/n: I know itâs unrealistic, just let me live
Nicholas and Iâs first encounter in New York during Christmas was anything but a meet-cute.
The city was buzzing with festive energy, lights twinkling everywhere, and crowds bustling about. I was juggling a bunch of shopping bags and a hot chocolate, trying to navigate through the sea of people at Rockefeller Center. Suddenly, I collided with a guy carrying a huge Christmas tree.
My hot chocolate went flying, splashing all over his coat, and my bags scattered across the pavement. His tree toppled over, almost hitting a group of carolers. We both stood there, stunned and embarrassed. I quickly started picking up my bags, apologizing profusely. "I'm so sorry!" I said, glancing at the mess and his stained coat.
He bent down to help, saying, "No, it's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going." Our hands brushed as we reached for the same bag, and we both laughed awkwardly. Despite the chaos, there was this brief, inexplicable connection. We exchanged a few more apologies and a sheepish smile before parting ways, thinking it was just a random, albeit memorable, mishap in the vast city.
Little did I know, this was just the beginning of a series of serendipitous encounters that would bring us together again and again.
The very next day, I found themselves wandering through a bustling holiday market in New York City. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of roasted chestnuts and hot cocoa. The market was alive with twinkling lights and the sounds of cheerful chatter.
As I browsed a booth filled with handmade ornaments, I felt a familiar presence beside me. Taking a double look. Turning, I was surprised to see Nicholas standing there, examining a snow globe.
"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I said joking with a smile, her breath visible in the cold air.
Nicholas looked up, equally surprised. "Y/n! What are the odds? It's funny, considering how big New York is."
We both laughed, the coincidence of bumping into each other two days in a row in such a big city not lost on us. "I guess fate has a funny way of bringing people together," I joked, my eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Yeah, or maybe New York isn't as big as we think," Nicholas replied, giving me a playful nudge. We continued to explore the market together, the unexpected encounter adding a touch of magic to our day.
The rink was a magical scene, twinkling with fairy lights and filled with couples gliding gracefully on the ice. Nicholas, who was still a bit clumsy on skates, stumbled right into y/n, who was gracefully skating by. They both tumbled onto the ice in a heap of giggles and apologies.
As we sat on the cold ice, catching our breath and trying to regain our composure, Nicholas joked, "Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something." My cheeks flushed from the cold and laughter, I replied, "You know, you might be right. How many times can you run into the same person in New York during Christmas? Well I might think youâre stalking me!â
We decided to take a break from skating and warm up with a cup of hot cocoa from a nearby vendor. Sitting at a small table, surrounded by the festive ambiance of the rink, we started talking and found ourselves lost in conversation. We shared stories of their holiday plans, our favorite Christmas traditions, and laughed over the series of mishaps that had brought us together.
By the end of the night, Nicholas looked at me and said with a smile, "So, what do you say we stop leaving it to chance and actually plan to meet up?" I grinned back, "i donât knowâŚ."
Despite the festive lights and cheerful atmosphere, y/ seemed hesitant whenever Nicholas brought up the idea of spending more time together.
"We've bumped into each other so many times lately. It's like the universe is trying to tell us something."
I smiled but remained cautious. "I don't know, Nicholas. It's just... things are really busy right now."
Nicholas nodded, understanding my reluctance. "I get it. But how about this? Let's make a deal. I'll take you to the best hidden spots in New York, places only locals know about, and in return, you give me one evening to show you the magic of Christmas in the city."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued but still unsure. "And what if I don't have a good time?"
Nicholas grinned, confident but kind. "I appreciate the bluntness, but then I'll owe you a favor of your choice. No strings attached. But I promise you, you won't regret it."
After a moment of contemplation, my curiosity got the better of her. "Alright, Nicholas. You've got yourself a deal."
Nicholas's face lit up with excitement. "Great! I can't wait to show you a side of New York you've never seen before."
We exchanged numbers, feeling a warm sense of excitement and curiosity about what the future might hold.
Nicholas couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to do something special to show y/n how much he cared. So, one night, he picked up his phone and called her at 1am.
"Y/n, it's Nicholas. I know it's late, but I have a surprise for you. Can you meet me at Grand Central Station at 2am?"
Me, still groggy from sleep, hesitated for a moment but then agreed, my curiosity piqued. âPromise to not murder me though.â
When I arrived at the station, it was eerily quiet and completely empty. Nicholas was waiting for âe with a warm smile. "I wanted to show you something magical," he said, leading me inside.
We walked through the grand hall, and I looked up to see the constellations painted on the ceiling, glowing softly in the dim light. The vast space, usually bustling with people, was serene and peaceful.
"This is incredible, Nicholas," I whispered, taking in the beauty of the moment.
Nicholas nodded, his eyes twinkling. "I thought you might like it. Sometimes, the best moments happen when you least expect them."
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. "Thank you for this. It's perfect."
We stood there together, under the stars, savoring the quiet magic of the night.
After our magical experience at Grand Central Station, Nicholas wasn't ready for the night to end. He turned to me with a mischievous grin. "How about we go somewhere else? I have another place in mind."
My curiosity was piqued. "Alright, lead the way."
I nodded eagerly, my curiosity piqued once again. We hopped into a cab, and Nicholas directed the driver to the American Museum of Natural History. Arriving at the museum, Nicholas led me to a side entrance where a friend of his worked as a night guard. With a wink and a nod, we were let inside.
The museum was eerily quiet and dimly lit, with the exhibits casting long shadows across the floor. Nicholas guided me through the halls, showing me the massive dinosaur skeletons and the serene dioramas of wildlife.
"This place is incredible at night," I whispered, my voice echoing softly.
We wandered through the exhibits, eventually finding ourselves in the planetarium. Nicholas led me to the center, where we lay down on the floor, looking up at the simulated night sky. The stars and planets above us created a mesmerizing view.
As we lay there, the peacefulness of the museum and the beauty of the stars above began to lull them into a state of relaxation. Nicholas turned to me and smiled. "I'm glad we came here."
I smiled back, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "Me too."
Slowly, we both drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the wonders of the museum and the tranquility of the night. It was a perfect end to our spontaneous adventure.
A few hours later, we were gently woken up by the night guard. "Hey, you two. It's almost morning. You should probably head out before the day staff arrives," he said with a chuckle.
I stretched and looked at Nicholas with a sleepy smile. "That was amazing. It felt like a first date, but even better."
Nicholas grinned. "Yeah, it was pretty incredible. But this wasn't our first date. How about I pick you up at 7 tonight, and we have an official one?"
My eyes lit up. "I'd love that."
We thanked the guard and made our way out of the museum, both excited for what the day would bring.
Nicholas picked me up at seven sharp, ready for our official date. We started with a cozy dinner at a charming little bistro, where we shared stories and laughed over delicious food. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and the evening flowed effortlessly.
After dinner, we wandered through the city, stopping by a street fair where we played games and won silly prizes for each other. The night was filled with fun and laughter, and as we walked hand in hand, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.
As we strolled through the park, the Christmas lights twinkled like stars, creating a cozy and magical atmosphere. Nicholas looked at me, his heart full. "These lights are amazing. They remind me of how magical the holiday season can be."
I smiled warmly. "Yeah, there's something special about this time of year. It makes everything feel a bit more magical."
Nicholas chuckled. "It's funny how we didn't know each other before, but it feels like we've known each other forever. I'm really glad we met."
I nodded, my eyes reflecting the lights. "Me too. Sometimes the best connections happen unexpectedly."
Nicholas gently squeezed my hand. "Absolutely. Tonight has been incredible, and I can't wait to see where this goes."
We continued our walk, sharing stories and dreams, feeling a deeper connection with each step. The night was filled with warmth, laughter, and the promise of new beginnings.
Finally, we found a quiet spot in a nearby park, where the city lights twinkled around us. Nicholas turned to me, his eyes full of warmth. "I had an amazing time tonight."
I smiled, feeling a flutter in my heart. "Me too. It was perfect."
Nicholas leaned in slowly, and our lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was the perfect end to a magical night, leaving us both looking wanting more.
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