#he won in the wheel thing i posted about so here he is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 2 months ago

Text

forg_tful — fushiguro megumi.

“I think you must be the kindest grim reaper to ever exist.” you say suddenly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. Your voice is soft, worn out from the day, but it carries the weight of sincerity. Megumi raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Do you know any other grim reapers?” he asks, his tone laced with dry humor. You chuckle, a sound that feels lighter than it has in weeks. “No, not at all.” you admit, smiling despite yourself. “But I don’t need to. You’ve set the bar pretty high, do you know that?”

GENRE: alternate universe - grim reaper au;

WARNING/S: mythical beings and creatures, aged up megumi, heavy angst, romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, unhappy life, depression, illness, hurt, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, humor, guilt, pining, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, depiction of character death, depiction of illness, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of panic attack, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, grim reaper! megumi, long suffering dying! reader;

WORD COUNT: 12k words

NOTE: when i was dabbling about what to post, i did a wheel of names and megumi won so here is another megumi fic. i was talking with @midnight-138 the other day and we got in this conversation about goblin, the kdrama. and there were grim reapers there. so i ended up writing about that here. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did!!! anyway, i love you all <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

══════════════════

THERE IS A WONDER ABOUT HUMAN DESTINY. You heard a story about it then, at the orphanage. One of your carers would tell you about it often. How humans were born into this destiny in this new life after their old one.

And this life is determined by how good or bad that past life was. And that each and everyone must live a good enough life in each cycle, in order to have a good life in the next.

When you were a child, understanding this concept felt like a challenge. How could one’s destiny ever be decided just like that, by things you don’t even remember? Who gets to decide whether or not we are good?

Is good and bad easy to tell? You would ask the older kids at the orphanage this, and sometimes you caretakers. But they never seem to understand why you could not accept it as it is.

After all, you were a child. And a child would always find that ridiculous, you think. You were a child. You haven’t done anything wrong. Not to anyone. Not about anything.

You doubt you could have done something in your past life that should warrant any punishment. You were someone people knew to be a good kid, you always have been. People looked at you warmly, ever so kindly.

But now you can only say that you know better. You have grown up. You had seen the truth. And it was not good, it was ugly and rotten. It was a tragedy. And you hated it. You hated everything about it.

Because your past life, your past self — they might have been a terrible person. They must have been the worst of the worst. Because, if you weren’t, then what justifies that sad suffering? That painful existence you had lived up until now.

You sighed heavily, taking in the whiff of bitter antiseptic, that artificial fragrance. You like to think you’ve been cursed to live a sad life. And today was just another proof of it.

Every thought of it just lingers like a familiar shadow, whispering in the quiet moments when you’re too tired to fight back. It’s easier to believe in curses than coincidences, easier to pin your pain on something cosmic than accept a world so indifferent.

You were an orphan, after all. Not in the storybook sense where miracles come to those who wait, but in the raw, unvarnished truth of it. Alone from the start, without a name to cry out to when the nights felt endless.

There was no mother to call for warm hugs, there was no father to give you reassurances. Just that cold metal bunk bed, which creaks at night as you twist and turn and the dark moonless nights.

You were passed from one place to another, faceless in a system that churned endlessly, always one more lost child than it could handle. You kept being told that it wasn’t that because you were unlovable, that’s what they always said.

But it was just that they found out what love looks like when they look at someone else, at another child that they think fits in their family. That was just how they felt they said, that was just their truth. And it shouldn't be personal.

You learned early on that love wasn’t guaranteed, that kindness wasn’t free, and that your worth was measured by how little trouble you caused. And just like that you grew up in that orphanage, being your own parent, being your own mother and father, your own sibling. Your own family.

When the kids at school found out, they immediately latched onto it. The teasing started small, barbs disguised as jokes, but it grew sharper, crueler. Just as the years dragged on, they had grown to be even crueler, even more vicious about being someone like you.

Even as you started to have your own life and slowly became an adult, you found that people would never think to give you anything. You had expectations at one point that people would be more understanding. That they would give you more grace about it.

But you would find yourself broken up over by your significant other because their mother didn’t like that you had no one in your family. Well, their mother never liked you from the beginning.

They thought you were difficult and had no manners, all because you never had a family, no parents to teach you all the things that would make a good person.

You would find yourself having friends and then getting into fights with them when you couldn’t show up for them at times, because you had to work multiple jobs to get through college.

Or how you couldn’t hang out with them because you had to take another shift for extra cash for your rent. They would say, what would be the need of you if you can’t be there?

Over time, you found yourself isolated from the world. No matter what you did, you found yourself alone. You found yourself unable to please people, unable to keep people. Unable to attain happiness or peace in this life. And over time too, you stopped expecting anyone to step in. You stopped expecting anything at all.

You’ve had a rough life—that’s what they’d call it, isn’t it? A neat little phrase to gloss over the thorny, jagged edges of this existence. It was as if that phrase could capture all of the nights spent crying into your pillow, the gnawing hunger for connection, for someone; the sense that the world moved on without ever noticing you.

And somehow, your misery can only continue.

It started with little things, barely noticeable at first—a name you couldn’t recall, a face that seemed familiar but unplaceable. Then it got worse and worse as time went by. Days lost to a haze of things you couldn’t explain, moments slipping through your fingers like water flowing downstream.

You didn’t wanna worry about it that much in the beginning. Maybe you’ve been working too hard. You’ve taken so much work these past few weeks. And maybe you had forgotten to eat anything.

You had a sensitive stomach, after all. Maybe that’s what has been causing the fatigue and the headache. Maybe the headaches are the reason you’ve been forgetting a lot of things. Yeah, that’s what it could be.

Yet, it just never went away. Even with the lifestyle changes, even when you would cut back on work to take care of yourself and rest. Nothing had changed. In fact, the pain had only gotten worse.

And more and more, you would find yourself forgetting things more and more. At one point, you had cried so much after forgetting which street you lived on after work.

You had felt your head spinning, your vision went on a blur and that night lamp began to burn against your eyes. Your breath labored over and over, and you had tried to get it controlled — but you couldn’t. Tears fell even more as you leaned against the lamp post. You felt like you were going to collapse.That you were going to throw up on the floor.

It took some time for yourself to regain some control, you knew that much. You just stayed there, letting the tears fall. You still didn’t remember where you had lived. You were forgetting it all. And that frustrated you to no end. You knew then that this can’t continue happening. That this cannot continue on.

That’s why you came here in this godforsaken place known as the hospital. You’ve always hated hospitals. It was such a terrible place. Even as a child, getting your check–ups with the other orphans terrified you. Nothing about this place spells any good. You were already with bad luck, with such a terrible destiny in this life and you didn’t want it to continue.

But you cannot control destiny, not ever.

You could only control yourself.

And even that, you cannot have control.

Not anymore, not ever again.

The doctors confirmed it: a rare, terminal illness. Brain cancer, in its final stages. Not only was it going to kill you, it was going to take everything that made you along with it.

Your memories, no matter how horrible, your identity, no matter how empty, your self, no matter how broken. All of who you are — you'd fade away in pieces, becoming a hollow shell long before your body gave out.

You thought the universe had no more ways to hurt you.

But you knew you were wrong, from the very beginning.

And then, on a night when the weight of it all felt unbearable, you saw him.

He wasn’t what you expected. No black cloak, no skeletal frame, no cold, lifeless eyes. The grim reaper was... human. Or at least, he looked that way. His dark colored hair fell in soft, dark strands over his forehead, his clothes unassuming—a rather plain and boring suit, even.

But there was something in his presence, a quiet intensity, that made your heart skip. His blue-green eyes, sharp and unreadable, pinned you in place, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“Who are you?” you asked, though deep down you already knew.

He studied you in silence for a moment, as though deciding whether you were worth an answer. Your eyes narrowed at him, as though trying to make sure that this isn’t just your brain making a mess of you. But he wasn’t. He was very much real. He was very much here. Finally, he spoke.

“Megumi.” he said. His voice was calm, steady, but there was something beneath it—something you couldn’t quite place. You hadn’t expected that from a grim reaper. You had expected something more rough. Something more….grim.

“Is that all?” you pressed, desperation clawing at your throat. You wanted—no, needed—to know more. Why him? Why now? Why couldn’t you just be left alone?

“That’s all you need to know about me.” he said simply.

His words were a wall you couldn’t scale. No matter how hard you tried, you knew there would be no answers, no explanations, no mercy. At least not until you were dead. You sighed, leaning against the bench.

This was it. The final countdown was coming soon. There was no escape. Yet, as the silence stretched between you, a strange feeling took root in your chest. Not comfort, not exactly. But something close. It was at least something. And for once, you weren’t alone.

You didn’t know what this grim reaper, this Megumi, was meant to be to you. What was he? Was he a guide, a witness, a judge? You didn’t know. And perhaps it was easier not to ask questions, to not know.

But as you continued to sit there, staring at the one who would carry you to your end, a thought crossed your mind. At least he wasn’t judging you. At least he was just there, waiting. He was calm as can be, quiet and without any grievances towards you.

Perhaps, maybe — at least he wasn’t as cruel as life has been. You began to think to yourself as you closed your eyes about one thing. Maybe if he was here, then maybe the end wouldn’t be so lonely after all. Maybe there will finally be some sense of peace at the end.

You opened your eyes, your lips seeping into a small smile. “I look forward to meeting my end with you.”

══════════════════

AS THE TIME GOES BY, HE WAS WITH YOU IN EVERYTHING. No one else around you could feel or see him the way you do. And he couldn’t go anywhere else. He was bound to you, until he could take your soul away and bring it with him. So, Megumi continued to watch over you as you continued to live your life, or at least what remains of it.

At first, his presence unnerves you. You weren’t used to this, being watched so closely almost everyday and every hour — especially with what remained of your miserable life. But slowly you found yourself getting used to him being around. And at the very least, he still gave you space when you did things that required privacy.

Otherwise, he’s always there, quiet and still, like a shadow you can’t shake. And as the days stretch into weeks, you begin to realize that he isn’t all bad. He does talk, sometimes. At least when he thinks you do something worth giving a response about.

He was truly quite reserved and serious half the time, yes, and almost cold in the way he speaks and carries himself, but there’s something beneath it. It wasn’t easy to notice at first, because it was ever so subtle. It was as if he never wanted anyone to notice that there was something soft within that hard exterior of his.

Megumi didn’t seem to fit his job description—not at all. He was patient in a way you didn’t expect from a reaper. From what you’d gathered from folklore and stories about grim reapers, you imagined something far more ominous.

Shadows and sickles, maybe even whispers of death. But Megumi? He had a quiet presence that felt nothing like the foreboding figures you’d pictured.

When your mind betrays you, when a memory slips through your fingers like grains of sand, Megumi is there. He doesn’t judge the gaps, doesn’t rush you to remember. Instead, he catches the loose ends with an ease that seems effortless.

Sometimes, it feels as though he’s more of a guide than a harbinger, steering you gently through the storm of forgetfulness. His voice is steady, grounding. His gaze is understanding, never invasive.

There’s a calmness to him, a patience that wraps around you like a soft cocoon. It’s disarming. You wonder how someone charged with ferrying souls could be so tender. Yet, when you look at him, you see no malice, no hint of the cold indifference you expected. Just the faintest trace of weariness in his eyes, as if he’s carried too many burdens that aren’t his own.

Sometimes, you forget who he is. And in those moments, Megumi doesn’t correct you. Instead, he lets you speak, lets you ramble, and when the memory comes back, when you remember why he’s here—he doesn’t revel in the grief.

He simply nods, a quiet acknowledgment that this, too, is part of the process. He’s not here to rush the inevitable; he’s here to make sure you don’t face it alone.

“Your nurse’s name is Alice, by the way.” Megumi says again when you struggle to introduce yourself.

You could feel your mouth fumbling over syllables that don’t quite fit together. Your cheeks feel red at the thought, now remembering as she smiled at your direction. You waved at her. His voice is calm, steady, like he has all the time in the world to wait for you to find your footing. You blink at him, your thoughts swirling too fast to make sense of.

“Huh?” you finally ask, the confusion thick in your tone.

“She takes care of you in the mornings. Alice always makes sure to bring your meds with water, no ice.” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to know. “You told her once that cold water hurts your teeth, so she makes sure to bring you water without ice.

You glance down at your hands, unsure of what to say. His eyes felt warm against your own as you nodded slowly at him, trusting his words. Those details feel foreign to you, like a story you heard about someone else. But his words fit, even if you can’t remember saying them. They were warm, they felt truthful.

“Oh.” you mumble with a small smile. “Thanks.”

He looks away from you. “No problem.”

Later, in the cafeteria, you sit in front of a tray of food that feels unfamiliar. Your appetite is as absent as the clarity of your thoughts. You stare at the carton of apple juice, its horrifically bright label somehow irritating, though you can’t pinpoint why at all.

“You liked orange juice better than apple.” Megumi says, breaking the silence. He gestures toward the carton with a small nod. “That one’s your favorite. Not too sweet, not too sour.”

The simplicity of the statement hits you like a lifeline, tethering you to something concrete. You pick up the carton, turning it in your hands before setting it back down. You smiled at him again, but this time almost a mix of relief and embarrassment. You were relying on your grim reaper to remind you of everything, now more than ever.

“Thank you.” you say again, a little louder this time, just enough for him to hear.

The two of you sit in silence for a while before you decide to pull out the small notebook you’ve been keeping. Your doctor suggested it as your brain got even sicker. You needed to remember something and so this notebook, it was your place to track your thoughts before they disappear entirely.

You scribble furiously, trying to make sense of the jumble in your head. You’re working on a sentence about feeling forgetful, but the words tangle together, your handwriting messy and uneven. You pause, staring at it. Something feels wrong. Something feels off. Your face contorts, your eyes narrow at the page.

“You missed an E.” Megumi says softly, leaning over to glance at the page.

He doesn’t reach for the notebook, doesn’t try to take it from you. Instead, he taps the spot with his finger, just enough to draw your attention. Your eyes blinked. Sure enough, forgetful is written as forgtful. You bite your lip, heat rising to your cheeks as frustration bubbles up.

“I—I know that, you know?” you say defensively, though the truth is you hadn’t noticed until he pointed it out.

He doesn’t laugh or tease you. “It happens, don’t worry.” he says simply, his tone free of judgment. “You caught it now. That’s what matters.”

You glance at him, expecting pity, but his stoic expression is as steady as ever, like this moment isn’t something to dwell on. You pierce your lips in a tight line. You carefully picked up your pen again, correcting the error with a shaky hand.

“Thanks for telling me.” you mutter, embarrassed but grateful.

“You were talking about your favorite teacher, earlier.” he reminds you a little while later, after your thoughts derail mid-sentence.

You’d been telling him about a memory. It was a rare one, where everything about it was good. It was such a warm, fuzzy one that had felt so clear in your mind just moments ago—but now it’s slipping away, leaving you grasping at straws.

You look at him, feeling lost. “I... was?”

“You were.” he confirms with a small nod, his tone encouraging. “You said they were the first people to notice how much you liked writing. You were just getting to the part about their funny laugh.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right!” you whisper, the thread of the memory slowly weaving its way back into focus. “Right. Mr. Greene. He laughed like a seagull.”

Megumi doesn’t laugh at the description, but his lips twitch in what might be the ghost of a smile. That was a rare thing, you knew that. But you like to think that maybe, just maybe, if he tried — he would look even better when he smiled. He already has a handsome face, you knew that. But maybe, his smile, it would make it even better.

“That’s it.” he says, his voice carrying a quiet kind of approval.

It’s small, these moments of clarity he gives you, but they feel monumental in a life that’s slowly crumbling. For a moment, you feel like you’ve reclaimed a small piece of yourself, and you can’t help but glance at him, wondering how someone like him, a reaper, of all things can make you feel more alive than you have in a long time.

You can’t help but admit it but he was your first true friend.

He was your longest companion to boot, with that.

And perhaps, he will be the only constant you’ll ever have.

But maybe he already knew that and he just doesn’t tell you.

He accompanies you often, especially in the long, quiet hours spent tethered to hospital machines. The hum of monitors and the rhythmic drip of IVs become a backdrop to his steady, unobtrusive presence. At first, you think he’s only there to observe, to do whatever grim reapers are supposed to do as your life ticks away.

But the longer he stays, the more you realize he’s keeping you company at every appointment. Keeping you from being so alone. Even if it was his job, he could wait elsewhere. But he sits beside you, in an empty chair no one dares sit at.

And he stays, throughout each and every appointment. Appointments which barely keep you alive. It was only a matter of time before he had to deliver your soul to wherever it had to be.

You started to wonder if he’ll think about this time with you too. If he will find this moment to be something that will cross his mind once this job, you, were done and gone.

It’s strange, this relationship you’ve fallen into. He doesn’t talk much unless prompted, not unless you forgot something or need anything. But you like to think that you could start to rely on his silence. Especially when doctors and nurses give you all those complicated jargons that you didn’t even need.

It fills the void in a way words can’t. When you’re too tired to make conversation with visitors, when there are visitors, probably motivated by guilt or necessity, your grim reaper Megumi is there. Unfailingly, he would be sitting by your bedside, his gaze steady, his presence grounding. As though he wants to give you strength to deal with it all.

But of course, as you already know, no one else can see him. Just you. At first, you tried explaining him to the nurses, the doctors, or when you felt like talking about something you knew he would listen to — but the looks they gave you were enough to stop. They chalked it up to the illness, the stress, or the medications.

But Megumi is real. You know he’s real. The way he moves, the way he seems to sense your thoughts before you speak them, the way he exists on the edges of your life without ever intruding.

The way a glint in his eyes would appear warmer than before. He was here. He was there with you. You weren’t going crazy. And he knew that too. He was the only one that knew that.

One day, in the suffocating stillness of the hospital ward, you finally ask him the question that’s been gnawing at the edges of your mind. The pale light filtering through the blinds casts long shadows on the sterile white walls.

And the quiet hum of distant monitors feels unbearably loud. You shift uncomfortably in your bed, clutching the thin blanket as if it could anchor you to something solid.

“Why are you here?” The words escape your lips before you can stop them. Your voice is quiet, hesitant, but the question feels monumental, breaking the fragile peace between you.

Megumi doesn’t look surprised. He’s seated in the chair by your bed, one leg crossed over the other, his posture as calm as always. His gaze lifts from the book he’s been reading, something he always seems to have in his hands.

Though you’ve never seen him get past the halfway mark. He seems to be carrying it as though it was a prayer book he was forced to hold at a sermon at church.

“To watch you.” he says simply, his tone neutral. There’s no elaboration, no attempt to soften the starkness of his answer. As though it was almost like his words were that of fact. You furrow your brow, confused.

“I know that….But why? Why do you keep on watching me this closely?” you press, the weight of his presence suddenly more tangible. He isn’t like the nurses or the doctors who flit in and out of the room. He doesn’t belong here—not in the way they do.

“Are you uncomfortable about it?”

You blinked at him, your mouth agape for a moment. “N–no.”

“Okay, then. I’ll continue on doing what I want.”

You didn’t speak for a moment. You like to think that it was all you were going to get from him. So you just sighed, leaning against your hospital bed and closing your eyes. This was the most he’d ever talk to you, and perhaps the longest. That could be a win, right?

“For you.” He spoke again, as though he couldn’t handle the silence between you.

“For me?” you echo, your voice almost a whisper. The words feel foreign, as though they belong to someone else. “What does that mean?”

He tilts his head slightly, considering your question. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—an emotion you can’t name. Not pity, not detachment, but something softer. “Does my reason matter?”

“You have me curious now.” You whisper to him, letting out a small laugh. “What was your reason?” you ask him again.

Though deep down, you think you already know. The thought lodges itself in your chest, sharp and unwelcome. Megumi doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped loosely together. His gaze holds yours for some time, steady and unwavering.

“I made a promise I’d like to keep.” he says finally, the words carrying a gravity that makes your breath hitch.

“What promise?”

His eyes narrowed at you, almost as though it was full of hurt. “You don’t want to know.”

The suffocating stillness of the room presses down on you, but somehow, his presence feels like a small crack of light breaking through the weight of it all. You want to ask more—how he knows, why he cares, but the words catch in your throat, tangled in the storm of your thoughts.

It’s such a brief answer, yet it lingers with you long after the words fade. There’s no pity in his voice, no judgment, just a quiet truth that settles like a blanket over your weary mind. And in some inexplicable way, that’s enough.

So, instead you nod, a small, almost imperceptible gesture. It’s not acceptance, not yet, but maybe it’s the beginning of it. And Megumi, patient as ever, doesn’t push for more. He simply stays, his quiet presence a reminder that, whatever happens, you won’t face it alone.

Over time, Megumi’s presence becomes less foreboding and more… comforting. If someone told you a grim reaper could be anything close to a friend, you would’ve laughed. But now? You’re not so sure.

He still doesn’t talk much, but the moments he does are starting to feel less like obligations and more like. Well, like he cares. His dry humor catches you off guard sometimes, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips when you grumble about hospital food or tell him a ridiculous story from your childhood that you’re shocked you even remember.

“They let you keep a pet fish in third grade?” he asks one day, his eyebrow quirking ever so slightly.

“Let me? No, I smuggled it back to the orphanage.” you reply, puffing your chest out like it’s something to be proud of. “Named him Mr. Bubbles. He lived in a mason jar by our shared windowsill until one of the staff found him.”

Megumi gives you a sidelong glance, and for a second, you think he’s about to scold you. But instead, his lips quirk into the tiniest smile. “Mr. Bubbles, huh.” he repeats, almost to himself, and the sound of it in his voice makes your chest feel light.

He’s always a comfort in the painful days of longevity treatments. You were getting even worse, not even the precious medication was working. Megumi was the one to urge you to continue, even if they were never going to do anything for you.

After all, he was here for a reason. Nothing was going to help. And yet, he still insists that having more time is better than having little.

This time, you like to think you could agree with him. With more time, you could continue to have Megumi by your side. You could continue to have conversations with him.

You could continue to see his small ghostly smiles and find him sitting there beside you, looking through pages of that book he never reads. You could have more time living, experiencing some good in your life – a good that was waiting on death’s door.

Sitting in the chair beside you, his legs crossed casually, as though he’s simply there for the ambiance and not because you’re hooked up to an IV that feels like it’s siphoning the life out of you. Sometimes, you fall asleep mid-session, and when you wake up, you find him sitting exactly as he was, as if not a single moment has passed for him.

“I wasn’t sleeping at all.” you insist groggily one day, blinking the drowsiness away. “How could you even know I was sleeping at all? I know, it’s my body!”

“You were drooling.” he counters flatly, gesturing toward your chin. “Look, it’s still there in the corner of your lips.”

You hurriedly swipe at your face, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I was not!”

His expression doesn’t change, but you swear there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He could be a trickster when he wants to be. He could be silly from time to time. And funny enough with that dry humor that you could cry tears as you laugh so hard at what he says.

Despite his initial stoicism, Megumi starts picking up on your quirks, learning the things that make you smile. And most days now, especially now with these horrible and miserable treatments, you looked forward to them.

Like the time he noticed you doodling on the edge of your treatment log and, the next day, casually handed you a pack of gel pens. Your face conforms to a confused daze as you look at him and then at the gel pens in your hand. There were so many that you don’t even think you could count them.

“How the hell did you get this, Megumi?” You asked him, your eyes narrowing at him. “Why are there so many?”

“They were free.” he said, refusing to meet your eyes as you stared at the colorful bundle in awe.

“From where?” you asked, skeptical at his response to you.

“Places.” He still wasn’t looking at you.

“Megumi.” you drawled, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Do you want the pens or not?” he huffed, crossing his arms in a way that made him look surprisingly boyish. “They’re really good too. I tried them downstairs. And they’re free. What? Is the security going to look at your bag when you leave? This isn’t a mall, you know.”

You looked at him for a moment, dumbfounded at his sudden ridiculous tirade. Then slowly, your tummy rumbled as you laughed and laughed. The notion of it all was silly. Still, you were entertained by it. Megumi seemed glad that you laughed. And that you went along with all of it.

You took the pens, of course. You put them in your bag after he handed it to you. No one checked it and for the rest of the day, you tried them and made little doodles with them on your notepad at home. And that day, for the first time in a long time, you felt genuinely happy.

As much as Megumi claims he’s only there to “watch” you as part of his job, you found that it’s obvious he’s doing more than that. He’s doing the most out of all grim reapers you like to think.

Of course, you don’t know any other grim reapers. And you doubt you’d look sane if you tried to bring it up to another dying person. But your grim reaper, at least you, was the kindest.

As you settle into bed, the hospital room bathed in the faint glow of a bedside lamp, you glance over at Megumi. He’s sitting in his usual chair, arms folded loosely, his expression calm but watchful.

It’s become routine now. His quiet presence is a constant that you’ve come to rely on, though you’d never admit it outright.

“I think you must be the kindest grim reaper to ever exist.” you say suddenly, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Your voice is soft, worn out from the day, but it carries the weight of sincerity. Megumi raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Do you know any other grim reapers?” he asks, his tone laced with dry humor.

You chuckle, a sound that feels lighter than it has in weeks. “No, not at all.” you admit, smiling despite yourself. “But I don’t need to. You’ve set the bar pretty high, do you know that?”

He doesn’t respond, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, maybe, or perhaps a glimmer of gratitude he’d never put into words. His lips purse into a flat line, as he looks at you. You could tell that there’s something in his green–blue orbs that you couldn’t read. But you knew better than to ask.

“Thank you, Megumi.” you say after a moment, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

“For what?” he asks, his gaze steady on you.

“For being the first good thing in my life.” you say simply, your chest tightening as you force the words out.

It feels strange to say, especially to someone like him. You know you shouldn’t be thanking the person meant to take your soul, the one who will guide you into the unknown. But it feels right. You swallow hard, looking away for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

“I know it sounds ridiculous. Thanking a grim reaper. But I mean it. You were... the kindest thing in my destiny. And I think that’s enough to be happy about.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything right away. He doesn’t need to. The faintest nod of his head, the subtle softening of his usually stoic expression, is answer enough. The weight in your chest eases as you let your head sink into the pillow. Your eyelids grow heavy, and you fight to keep them open just a little longer.

“Goodnight, Megumi.” you murmur, your voice trailing off as sleep begins to take hold.

“Good night.” he says softly, his voice carrying a gentleness you hadn’t expected.

As your breathing slows, becoming steady and rhythmic, Megumi stays where he is, his gaze fixed on you. And he knows. He just knows—it’s time. Your time. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and bittersweet, but he doesn’t flinch.

This was always the inevitability, but watching you now, peaceful and free from the fear that had once gripped you, he feels something akin to relief. Perhaps even a quiet sadness.

When the time comes, Megumi will be there, as he always has been. For now, though, he lets you rest, a faint sense of solace settling over the room.

══════════════════

IF HE WAS BEING HONEST, THIS MISSION WASN’T EVEN FOR HIM TO TAKE. Megumi didn’t choose this assignment at random. No, not at all. That morning began like any other in the sterile monotony of his existence. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a pale glow on the rows of cubicles where reapers sat, reviewing their tasks for the day.

He’d been staring at the dregs of his coffee, debating whether he had the energy to bother getting a fresh cup, when the assignments for the day appeared on the board—a mosaic of names, dates, faces.

He’d glanced up, disinterested at first. It was just another day in an endless cycle of endings. Souls came and went, and reapers like him did their jobs, guiding them to whatever came next. There was no time for attachment, no reason to linger on a single name or face.

But then he saw yours.

And everything stopped.

His coffee cup slipped from his fingers, shattering against the floor in a muted crash. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He blinked once, twice, as if his eyes might be playing tricks on him. But no matter how many times he looked, it was unmistakable.

It was you.

Your face stared back at him from the board, frozen in a candid snapshot. It was a face he knew better than his own, even after all this time. A face he’d never forgotten, not even through lifetimes of distance.

It had been so long since he’d last seen you. Lifetimes ago, you had been more than just a part of his world—you had been his world. The memories were fractured and blurred at the edges, but they still burned vividly enough to hurt.

He remembered your laugh, bright and unrestrained, echoing through a life that had otherwise been far too short. He remembered the way you had looked at him, your gaze full of trust, full of hope.

He remembered losing you.

And now here you are again, pulled into this cycle of life and death that neither of you could escape. But this time, you were already dying. You were going to go and suffer again, and there would be no one to save you. He couldn’t stop it last time. And now, he cannot stop it this time. It was set in stone already.

And yet, his heart breaks over and over again. You were barely more than a child, younger than either of you had been in your shared past life. You hadn’t even been given a chance to live, and yet the world had decided it was already time to take you away.

Megumi’s heart ached in a way he hadn’t thought possible anymore. He was a reaper. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything. But as he stared at your photo, the weight of it all crushed him.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that you’d been taken from him once, and now it was happening all over again. This time, there would be no miracles, no last-minute reprieves. He knew that. He’d seen it a thousand times in other lives.

But he couldn’t just let you go alone.

Without thinking, he rose from his chair, his movements mechanical as he walked toward the board. Each step felt heavier than the last, his resolve hardening with every breath. When he reached your name, he stared at it for a long moment before finally speaking.

“I’ll take this one.” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

The room went silent. Assignments weren’t supposed to be chosen; they were distributed at random to avoid any emotional entanglements. Reapers were meant to be impartial. But no one questioned him. Megumi rarely spoke, rarely asked for anything. If he wanted this assignment, there had to be a reason.

As he returned to his desk, your face still fresh in his mind, he made himself a quiet promise. He couldn’t save you. The rules were clear. Your fate was already written, and nothing he did could change that.

But he could be there. He could make sure you didn’t have to face the end alone, that you wouldn’t have to feel the crushing loneliness he’d once felt when he lost you before.

Even if you didn’t remember him. Even if you didn’t know that in another life, you had been his entire world. He would carry that pain for both of you. Because this wasn’t just another assignment. It was you. And losing you again, even knowing it was inevitable, would be the cruelest fate of all.

When Megumi first appeared to you, he knew he had to keep his emotions in check. His job wasn’t to interfere, and no matter how much it hurt to see you again, he couldn’t let the truth slip. You didn’t know who he was, didn’t recognize the connection you’d once shared.

And why would you? To you, he was just a stranger. A quiet, brooding figure who had been assigned to shadow your dying days.

At first, he told himself that keeping his distance would make it easier. That if he stayed aloof, if he acted like this was just another assignment, maybe the ache in his chest wouldn’t consume him. But the moment he saw how lonely you were, trapped in a hospital bed, tethered to machines, fading faster than anyone your age should—he couldn’t help himself.

It was the little things at first. Reminding you of a nurse’s name when your memory failed. Offering a quiet presence during your treatments. Bringing you that pack of gel pens when he noticed your fingers twitching over the edges of your journal, longing to create something amidst the monotony of hospital life.

But as the days turned into weeks, Megumi found himself doing more than he should.

He started sitting closer to you, his usual stoic demeanor softening with every conversation. He started bringing you small comforts—a cup of coffee he swore he “found” a scarf on the day the hospital felt too cold, a faint smile when you told him a joke, no matter how bad it was.

“Why do you even hang around?” you asked one afternoon, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and weariness.

You’d just finished another grueling medicinal session, your body too weak to sit up straight. He didn’t answer right away. For a moment, his gaze lingered on you, something unreadable in his dark blue–green eyes. Then, he shrugged.

“You’re interesting to me.” he said simply, but his voice betrayed the truth he couldn’t say.

You laughed weakly. “Interesting? I’m a walking tragedy.”

“No, never say that. Not ever again.” he said firmly, his tone surprising you. “You’re more than that. You are more than your tragedy.”

The words hung in the air, and you didn’t press further. But in that moment, something shifted between you. As time went on, you began to look forward to his visits. He wasn’t just a reaper to you anymore; he was someone who made the unbearable a little more bearable.

Someone who listened when you needed to vent, who stayed when the nights felt too long, who reminded you that even in the shadow of death, you weren’t invisible. And Megumi… Megumi was breaking all his own rules. Rules he had set long after you, long before you again.

Every time he saw you laugh, even if it was just a fleeting chuckle, a part of him swore he’d do anything to keep that spark alive. But every time he saw you struggle; when your hands trembled too much to hold a pen, when your memories slipped further and further away—his heart ached in ways it hadn’t in centuries.

He hated this. Hated that you had to go through this. Hated that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t change your fate. But he stayed by your side through it all. He lets himself relive it all over again, no matter the pain. No matter what comes. Because it’s you. Come what may, it’s you.

“You know, Megumi.” you said softly, your voice almost drowned out by the hum of the machines. “You’re not so bad to me.”

He raised an eyebrow, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips. “Not so bad?”

You smiled, your eyes heavy with exhaustion but still warm. “Yeah. You’re like... a friend. A precious friend.”

A friend. The word stabbed at him more than it should have. Because that’s all he could ever be to you in this life. A friend. A shadow. A quiet presence watching over you as you slowly slipped away.

“You think so, huh?” He asks you, as you nodded and smiled. Silence engulfs the room. “I don’t think I’ve ever been someone’s precious friend before.”

“Then we are the same. Well, almost.”

He blinks at your words. “What do you mean?”

“If you call me your precious friend too, then we’ll finally have it. Being a precious person, at least once.”

You’ve always been a precious person to me. Megumi thinks to himself. In every lifetime, in every you — you have always been my precious person.

And even though he would never tell you the truth, that you’d been so much more to him in another life, that losing you once had broken him and losing you again was killing him all over again, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Because this was his last chance to be with you, even if you didn’t remember him. Even if it would never be enough. Nothing with you would ever be enough, not even if you lived a thousand years.

But, every moment is worth it, no matter how short it would be. When you love someone that much, it has to be enough. It has to be more than enough. He has to live through this immortal and wretched life, making those moments feel like they were as eternal as him. Even if he wanted more.

“Alright.” Megumi says to you as you perk up, your eyes shining. “You are a precious person to me.”

You giggled at his words. “Was it so hard to say? I am grateful that you said it at all.”

It was never hard to say. It never had been.

But now he has to live that memory over and over again.

He lets his lips echo a small warm smile as he looks at you.

“No, no it wasn’t hard at all.”

══════════════════

THE TREATMENTS HAVE STOPPED FULLY. And because of that your condition was getting worse and worse. The moments of clarity you once had were growing fewer and farther between. The pain in your body became an unwelcome constant, a weight that pulled you down even when you tried to fight against it.

Every movement felt like dragging yourself through glass, and the fog in your mind thickened, stealing memories and thoughts before you could fully grasp them. Everything about it felt so fragile, and you were afraid of breaking it. Even if it was already broken, you were scared at seeing it break even more. You were scared and he couldn’t do much about it.

Megumi hated seeing you like this. He watched as you lay curled in your bed, tears streaming silently down your face, your breathing shaky and uneven. He hated the way your hands trembled as you gripped the blanket.

It was as if holding onto it might keep you tethered to something real. Something solid enough to bring you back to earth, to existence. To humanity. Hated the way your voice cracked when you spoke, each word laced with frustration and grief over what was slipping away from you.

“I hate this, I hate this.” you whispered one night, your voice barely audible. Your chest hitched with a quiet sob as you turned your face into the pillow, trying to muffle your cries. “I hate... not being able to think. To remember. I feel like I’m disappearing, and I can’t stop it.”

Megumi clenched his fists at his sides, his nails biting into his palms. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but the words felt like ash in his throat. What could he say? That it would be okay? That you’d find peace? That this agony would end? None of it felt true, and none of it would matter to you at this moment.

You didn’t want peace. You wanted your life back.When you looked up at him, your eyes red and swollen, the sight nearly broke him. You looked so weak, one couldn’t even think you were someone with such strength at one point. He hated this. He hated how miserable you’ve been, how pained you’ve been.

“I’m so tired, Megumi.” you admitted, your voice cracking as fresh tears welled in your eyes. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Megumi moved closer, his steps slow and deliberate, as if he were afraid his presence might shatter you further. He sat at the edge of your bed, his usually impassive face shadowed with something raw and unguarded.

“You’re still you, you always will be.” he said quietly, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You let out a bitter laugh, though it came out more like a choked sob. “How do you know that? You don’t even really know me.”

He froze for a moment, his gaze dropping to his hands. He wanted to tell you that he did know you, better than anyone ever could. That he remembered you in ways you couldn’t even begin to imagine. But he couldn’t. Not now.

Instead, he reached out, his hand hovering over yours for a moment before he let it settle gently against your trembling fingers. The touch was warm, grounding, and for a moment, the chaos inside you stilled.

“I know because I saw it. I’ve seen it all, even for a while.” he said finally. “Even when you’re hurting, even when it feels like everything is falling apart, I see you.”

His words hung in the air, fragile but steady, and something in your expression slowly softened. You leaned closer to him and he didn’t mind it at all. He pulled you even closer, letting that warmth of him become even more felt.

“It’s okay to be angry about all of this.” he continued, his voice steady now. “It’s okay to cry. You’ve been fighting so hard, for so long. You don’t have to hold it all in.”

Your tears flowed freely then, and Megumi stayed right where he was, his hand never leaving yours. He didn’t try to stop your sobs or hush your pain. He simply stayed, letting you pour out everything you’d been holding back. And for the first time in centuries, in his entire lifetime — Megumi couldn’t help but feel unequivocally helpless.

He was a reaper, meant to guide and observe, but watching you crumble under the weight of your illness was unbearable. You didn’t deserve all of this. You shouldn’t suffer like this. You had done nothing wrong, not in your previous life and not this one. But this was still your fate.

And he hated the unfairness of it all, the cruelty of a life that had given you so little only to take it away too soon. If he could have taken your place, he would have done it without hesitation.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t trade a life for a life. The gods do not have mercy in that regard. Fate was fate. He cannot do much about it. And he hates it. He hates seeing you like this.

All he could do was stay by your side, no matter how much it hurt to watch. Because you deserved that much. You deserve someone who wouldn’t leave, even in your darkest moments. And Megumi would be damned if he let you face this alone.

As the night deepened, the room fell into a heavy, fragile silence. The only sounds were the steady hum of the machines and your quiet, uneven breaths as you lay spent from crying. Megumi hadn’t moved from his spot, his hand still lightly covering yours.

Your fingers twitched against his, seeking more warmth. The motion was subtle, but he noticed. Carefully, he threaded his fingers between yours, his grip firm but not overbearing. You didn’t pull away. Instead, your grip tightened just a little, like you were holding on to him for dear life.

“Why do you stay?” you asked, your voice hoarse from the tears but tinged with something vulnerable. You didn’t meet his eyes, staring instead at the faint outline of his hand entwined with yours.

Megumi hesitated. He wasn’t good at this—at talking about feelings. He was better at quiet gestures and staying in the background. But something about the way you asked, so small and uncertain, pulled the words out of him.

“Because you shouldn’t have to go through this alone, jot ever.” he said softly, his gaze fixed on you.

You blinked at his answer, a lump forming in your throat. “But you don’t even know me, not at all, Megumi.” you repeated, weaker this time, as if you wanted to believe him but couldn’t quite bring yourself to. “How could you stay for someone like me?”

Megumi’s jaw tightened.

You didn’t know half of it.

“I know enough.” he said finally. “I know you’re stubborn and strong, even when you feel like you’re not. I know you don’t like hospital food, but you’ll eat it anyway because you don’t want to make the nurses worry. I know you still draw on the edges of your notebooks, even when your hands shake so much that the lines go crooked.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his words and Megumi felt his heart clench at the way you were looking at him, like you were seeing him for the first time. And as though, it was the first time in a while you had known him that he truly saw you.

“I see you.” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every part of you, even the ones you think you’ve lost. They’re still there. You’re still here.”

You felt the tears welling up again, but this time, they weren’t from frustration or anger. They were something softer, quieter. You take a deep breath, to calm yourself for a moment.

And he brushes your hand against your own. He was so warm, even when your hands were cold. He warmed you enough back to life, even for just that moment.

“You make it sound like I’m worth something.” you murmured, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips.

“You are. You always have been.” he said instantly, the conviction in his voice startling you. “More than you know. I promise you.”

Your chest ached, not from the illness this time, but from the overwhelming mixture of emotions his words stirred in you. It was almost too much, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want him to stop bringing you back to life. You didn’t want him to stop giving you reasons to want to live.

“Megumi.” you said quietly, finally looking up at him.

His name sounded different coming from you, like it carried more weight, more meaning than it ever had before. It was as warm as back then, when you would say his name and smile at him, like he was your world. Like he was someone you dearly loved.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer now, like he was afraid of breaking the moment.

You hesitated, your dulling eyes searching for something you couldn’t quite put into words. Then, with a shaky breath, you smiled—a real smile, small but genuine.“Thank you. For all you have done for me, for all you will ever do for me. Thank you.”

Megumi’s lips couldn’t help but twitch at your words, and for the first time, he allowed himself to give you a wide smile in return. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there, and it was for you, only for you. And you knew that it was only for you.

“Don’t mention it.” he said, his usual stoicism creeping back into his tone, but there was an undeniable warmth beneath it.

That night, as you finally drifted off to sleep, your hand still holding his, Megumi stayed by your side. He watched the rise and fall of your chest, each breath a reminder that you were still here, still fighting. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Megumi let himself hope.

Not for a miracle, no. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe in those anymore—but for something smaller. He hoped that in the time you had left, he could make sure you knew you weren’t just a fleeting soul, a name on a list, a face on a board.

You were everything to him, even if you never remembered why. And as he sat there, his hand still holding yours in the quiet of the night, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could carry that truth for both of you.

══════════════════

HE KNEW THAT HE CAN’T KEEP BUYING TIME. That’s not how it works in this line of work. The higher-ups had been patient with Megumi for as long as they could. They had watched from a distance as he ignored the rules, as he lingered at your side longer than necessary.

He had been told once, perhaps twice, that his attachment was blurring the lines of his duty. But no one had come forward to confront him, not until now.

The meeting room was cold, sterile—just like all the others. It was almost like the hospital. It even smells like it too. The flickering lights did nothing to soften the sharp voices of his superiors, their words cutting through him like a blade. Megumi has always hated this room. As much as you hate the hospitals.

He has lived for a long time. He has been in the reaper department for so long, he doesn’t even remember when he had started. But no matter how many times he stays in it, the smell will always linger and he hates it. Just as much as he hates the higher-ups, perhaps. Yet, he knew he couldn’t admit it out loud.

“Megumi, this isn’t working any longer.” One of them had said it, their voice cutting through the stale air of the room like a blade, sharp with frustration.

The council sat in their cold, unfeeling silence, their dark robes blending into the shadows that clung to the room. The words echoed in Megumi’s ears, even as he sat still, his fists clenched tightly under the table.

“They are already dying,” the voice continued, each word hammering against him. “You know this, you always have. Fate cannot be changed. You cannot keep delaying it. You’re prolonging their suffering, and you know it. We cannot let this go on any longer.”

Megumi’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His blue-green eyes stayed fixed on the floor, a storm brewing behind them. He didn’t argue, didn’t defend himself, because deep down, he knew they were right. He could feel it every time he saw you.

In this way your body grew weaker with each passing day, as if life itself was slipping through your fingers. Each breath you took was a silent battle, and every glance you gave him carried an unspoken understanding that your time was coming.

But what they didn’t understand, what they couldn’t understand, was why he couldn’t just let go. Not yet. Not when your laughter still lingered in the corners of the hospital room.

Not when you still found the strength to smile at him, even through the haze of your pain. Not when you had thanked him—thanked him—for being the kindest thing in your life. How could he take that away from you? How could he take it away from himself?

“It’s not for your benefit that they should stay alive, you know that.” another elder said, their voice low but unyielding, like a hammer falling against stone. “Do it for their sake. The sooner you do it, the sooner they can find peace. You mustn’t prolong the suffering for your wants.”

The words cut deeper than Megumi would ever admit, a blow he wasn’t prepared for. His fists tightened until his nails bit into his palms, but he kept his gaze down, unwilling to let them see the flicker of defiance in his eyes.

He wanted to scream at them, to tell them they didn’t understand, that it wasn’t about his wants, it never had been. It was about you. About giving you every last moment, every fleeting second that you deserved, no matter how much it hurt him to watch.

But none of that mattered to them. The rules were the rules. His mission was clear: guide souls to the other side, no matter the cost, no matter the pain. He was meant to be impartial, detached, but he wasn’t. Not this time.

As the meeting adjourned, their final words hung in the air like a noose tightening around his neck. “You have to let them go, Megumi.” the elder had said, their tone devoid of sympathy. “It’s not about you. It’s about them. Do what must be done.”

When the room emptied, Megumi remained seated, his shoulders heavy with the weight of their judgment. He wanted to argue, to push back against the inevitability they demanded he enforce. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t delay forever.

He could feel the edges of your life fraying, could see the way the light in your eyes flickered, like a candle in its final moments. And yet, even as he sat there, alone in the suffocating silence, he made a decision.

Not yet.

Because you deserve those moments, however brief they might be. You deserved the warmth of the sun on your skin, the chance to smile one more time, the chance to feel something other than pain before the end. And if he could give you that, even at the cost of his own heart, he would.

But he also knew the truth, the one he couldn’t ignore forever. Time wasn’t on your side. And when the moment came, when the inevitability could no longer be postponed, Megumi would have to let you go.

Just not today.

Not yet.

He needs more time.

When the meeting ended, Megumi didn’t move. He couldn’t. His mind was too heavy with the weight of their demands, and yet his heart felt too torn to process it. He takes a moment to compose himself before he walks out.

As he walked out into the hallway, he wasn’t surprised to find Gojo Satoru waiting for him, leaning casually against the wall with that ever-present, cocky grin on his face. The two of them had known each other for lifetimes, especially with how Gojo was now his boss.

Though Gojo was the opposite of Megumi in nearly every way. Where Megumi was reserved and quiet, Gojo was loud and unapologetic. He hated the elders too, he hated the rules as much as Megumi too.

But he had never let himself be swallowed by what he feels personally as he works. And Gojo Satoru knew that too well, when he saw that look in Megumi’s face. He had not taught him well enough to separate it all.

“Megumi, hey.” Gojo said, his voice a little more serious than usual. “Can we talk?”

Without waiting for an answer, Gojo pushed himself off the wall and fell into step beside Megumi, leading him down a quieter hall away from the bustling administrative wing. He already knew what he was going to say.

But Megumi wishes he wouldn’t say it. Because when Gojo says it, it becomes even more real. It becomes even more true. And it’s something he can’t handle. Not right now.

“I know what you’re thinking, okay?” Gojo began, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. “And I know it’s hard.”

He’s saying it. He’s talking about it. There was nothing that would stop it from being real. Not anymore. Megumi didn’t answer, he didn’t want to. He didn’t need to.

Gojo Satoru could always read him, could always sense what was going on under the surface, even when Megumi tried to hide it. He was always going to tell Megumi the truth, even when it was hard.

“I don’t get it, Gojo–san.” Megumi said, his voice low, rough from the strain of keeping it all in. “I know the rules. I know they have to go. But… but I can’t just let them die like this. Not again. Not this miserably.”

He stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning to face Gojo, his face a mix of frustration and sorrow. “They’re suffering so much and miserable to boot, and I’m supposed to just… let them go? How is that even fair?”

Gojo’s expression softened, the usual smugness gone, replaced by something much more genuine. He took a step closer, his hands in his pockets as he regarded Megumi with quiet understanding. He takes a deep sigh.

“I know it’s not easy, kid.” Gojo said, his voice lower now, almost tender. “But this isn’t about what you want. You’re not their savior, Megumi. You’re their guide. You can’t heal them, that’s not part of the job description. It never was. You can’t protect them from everything.”

The words stung, sharper than Megumi expected.

But it was the truth, the unavoidable truth.

This was a job, even if it meant the world to him.

It cannot be more than a job, not even like this.

“I know you care about them. Hell, you’re probably more attached than anyone in this damn place,” Gojo continued, the hint of a wry smile tugging at his lips. “But your job is to make them transition to something peaceful. To comfort them. Not to prolong their suffering because you’re too scared to let them go.”

Megumi looked away, his blue–green eyes burning with the weight of his own guilt. He could feel them water ever so slowly as he thinks about you, about everything you suffered — in all your lives. And now, when you suffered the most. He bit his lower lip. How could he just let it all go?

“I can’t just stand by and watch them die, Gojo–san.” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly, betraying the deep ache inside him. “Not like this. Not when I… when I care about them this much. Not when….Not when I love them so much.”

Gojo Satoru’s gaze softened further, taking a moment to sigh at him. He’d known Megumi for so long. He’s a good kid, he’s always been the best of everyone here, if he was being honest. But even now, he was still so human. And perhaps that is his weakness. He cannot be a reaper, and be human too. He cannot have both.

“I know, kid. I know.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But this is the hardest part. You have to be strong for them now. It’s time. And you have to do your job. You have to help them let go. That’s the only way they’ll be able to be free from the pain, okay? If you do your job. They’ll be free. And it can be, if anything, the greatest act of love.”

Megumi wanted to argue, wanted to lash out and scream that it wasn’t fair, that this wasn’t right. But something in Gojo’s cerulean eyes made him stop. Gojo Satoru wasn’t just talking about the rules; he was talking about them. About the person Megumi had come to love more than anything in this world, someone who was ever so dear to him in each and every lifetime.

He was right. He can’t do anything about death or about fate. And he was right — death was the greatest mercy, instead of suffering. This could be the greatest act of love, as it had always been in each lifetime. To be there for you, to hold your hand and whisper all the love he has in your ear as you go. To set you free.

The truth was hard to swallow, but the reality was clearer than ever. Your suffering wasn’t going to end unless he let you go. And if he truly cared about you, he would have to find the strength to be the one to guide you to peace. With a deep breath, Megumi nodded, the weight of his decision settling in.

“I’ll do it, Gojo–san.” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I’ll make sure they’re at peace.”

Gojo gave him a small, approving nod. “You’re doing the right thing.”

Megumi knew it would be one of the hardest things he’d ever do. But as he turned back down to earth, to the hall toward where you were waiting, his heart heavy with the knowledge of what was to come, he also knew it was the only way to truly set you free.

He just hoped that, somehow, you would understand. And that you would forgive him. That you would smile warmly back at him once again, when you meet him again in your next life. That you could love him again, if you can.

══════════════════

HE BRACED HIMSELF FOR WHAT COMES NEXT. Megumi stood outside your hospital room, his heart heavy in his chest. The hallway was unnervingly quiet, the soft beep of monitors and the occasional shuffle of nurses’ footsteps the only sounds that kept him tethered to reality.

He had never been so sure of something—so certain that this moment had arrived. It was time. He swallowed hard, fighting the lump in his throat, before pushing the door open and stepping inside. Having done it once didn’t make it any easier. If anything, it made it harder. He’d have to relive this moment over and over again, like all the other times.

But he had no other choice. If you were to die, he’d rather it be him holding you. He would rather it be him you hurt, leave a scar only he could see. Megumi would rather that he would be the one to comfort you one last time, to tell you that he’s got you. That everything will be alright. Because you were together. Because he was the one taking you away.

You were there, propped up against the pillows, looking so small under the white sheets. Your face was pale, your features drawn and tired, but when you saw him, your expression softened, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"You're here again, hm?" you said, your voice hoarse but warm.

Megumi stood frozen for a moment, the sight of you sending a wave of emotions crashing over him. You looked so fragile, so close to the edge, and yet here you were, smiling at him like nothing was wrong. Like you hadn’t been battling this slow, painful decline for so long.

He forced his lips into a small, bittersweet smile. "Of course I’m here."

You sat up a little straighter in your bed, your eyes trying to focus on him. There was a faint sense of confusion in them, as if the fog in your mind was thicker than usual today. You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you sought his, and Megumi moved closer, carefully taking your hand in his.

"I didn’t know if you'd come today, you know." you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. “For the last time.”

Megumi felt the weight of your words press against his chest. You couldn’t remember everything, not anymore, but you remembered him. And somehow, that was a mercy. A small one, but a mercy nonetheless. He hated it, but it was all he had. It was all there was left.

"I’m always here when you need me, always." he said quietly, his voice unsteady despite the calm he tried to project. "You know that, right?"

You nodded slowly, as though trying to make sense of everything that was slipping through your fingers. The memory of his voice, the sensation of his presence, the feel of his hand in yours—it was enough to pull you back from the brink.

"I... I don’t remember... a lot." you confessed, your voice faltering, as though you were apologizing for something you couldn’t control. "But... I remember you."

Megumi’s heart squeezed at that, and he fought the urge to crumble. Don’t show weakness now, he told himself. Not with them. Not when they need you the most. Don’t falter. Love them, love them even if it hurts.

“I’ll always be here.” he repeated softly, gently squeezing your hand. “You’ve always been important to me. You always will be.”

You tried to smile again, though it was faint, and the effort seemed to take everything out of you. "I wish I could remember everything... all the good stuff we did together. There was a lot, wasn’t it? Even before…..I’m sorry if I don’t remember it all. But I can remember you right now, Megumi. I hope that’s enough. I hope…I hope that’s alright."

He felt his eyes sting, but he held it back, keeping his gaze steady on yours. "That’s enough. That’s more than enough."

Your grip tightened a little on his hand, your eyes slowly drifting over his face, as if committing his features to memory, trying to remember every detail of him before the fog came back.

"It’s always so funny to me." you whispered, a soft laugh escaping your lips despite the heaviness in the air. "You don’t look like a grim reaper."

Megumi chuckled quietly, the sound devoid of any real humor. "I get that a lot."

The silence stretched between you both, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt almost peaceful, like the calm before the storm. You leaned back against the pillows, but you didn’t let go of his hand.There were so many things he wanted to say to you.

So many words that were caught in his throat, threatening to spill over. But now—now there was no time for them. No time for the confessions, for the truth he’d never dared to speak. He simply stayed there, sitting at your side, holding your hand, because that was all he could do.

When you spoke again, it was quieter, slower. "I don’t want to forget you, not ever, not now." you said, your voice so fragile, so raw. "But I know I will. I already am."

Megumi shook his head, his thumb brushing lightly across the back of your hand, as though to comfort you, even though the words he wanted to say wouldn’t come. He couldn't promise you anything, couldn't tell you that this would all be okay, because it wouldn’t be.

“I’ll never forget you.” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll remember for the both of us. Even when you aren’t here anymore.”

“Then….will you let me fall in love with you again, if I were to be reborn?” You asked him, tears in your eyes pouring down your cheeks. “Will you let me, Megumi?”

His breath hitches shakily. His lips wobbled into a small watery smile. “Of course, I will. You can love me as many times as you want. I’ll let you do it. Over and over again.”

You choked into a giggle. “Then….Then, I’m glad. I’m forgetful, after all. It’s good, you’ll remind me next time.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. Even at the end, you were taking care of him. You were making sure he wasn’t sad. You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a brief moment, the confusion in your eyes faded.

The fog cleared, just a little, and you smiled. It was a small, soft smile, but it was there, and it was for him. All for him. As it always has been. You take a moment, a breath. He waits patiently for what you want to say.

“I wish…..” you whispered, your voice trailing off as your eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion finally taking over.

Megumi’s chest tightened as he waited.

But the words never came out of your lips.

As you slipped into a quiet sleep, your breath steady and calm, Megumi stayed by your side, his hand still holding yours. He knew it wasn’t enough to stop what was coming. But for now, he will hold on. He will cherish the warmth that remains.

It was the last time. The last time he would see you, the last time he would hear your voice, the last time he would get to make you feel comforted before you let go. And somehow, it was enough. Because you remembered him. And that was all that mattered now.

“I love you.” He whispers to you as he closes his eyes, letting the tears flow. “Goodbye.”

356 notes · View notes

moviecritc · 9 months ago

Note

ohhh i may have an idea for your polyamorous thing, what about the reader trying to soft launch her relationship with carlando but people keep thinking they’re just a group of very close friends or they think that she is only dating one of them and the other is just their friend so she gets tired of people not taking the hint and just ends up hard launching? maybe at a grand prix weekend?

captions ⋆ carlando smau

pairing: carlando x reader

summary: carlos, lando and you had been dating and soft launching each other for almost two years, and carlos just got bored of people thinking you're just friends.

warnings: some suggestive comments

a/n: not the biggest fan of lando EXCEPT when carlos is around so i loved doing this so much. also, it's my first smau, pls tell me what you guys think about it <3

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

yourusername just posted

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 12,098 others

yourusername spent a few days watching this two drive in circles very fast (+ kiki)

tagged carlossainz55, landonorris

view all comments

user1 NEW CARLANDO PHOTO JUST POSTED

user2 thank u y/n for feeding us with all this carlando content

landonorris dry ass caption

yourusername at least i post you you dumbass user1 never beating couple allegations user3 carlos must be so tired of third wheeling them

user4 THAT IS THE CUTEST DOG I'VE EVER SEEN

francisca.cgomes i'll never forgive you for naming your dog almost like me

yourusername it's my love language ok landonorris you could've named it lando or smth yourusername i'll change her name to nowins 💋 landonorris wait wat

carlossainz55 👑

landonorris ok i'll correct myself THIS is dry carlossainz55 you muppet yourusername at least he comments good things ?? user5 their friendship is top tier

lando.jpg just posted

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 54,693 others

lando.jpg recents

view all comments

user1 here before y/n

user2 NOT LANDO SOFT LAUNCHING CARLOS

user3 i'm dying

user4 i don't wanna start something but that aren't lando's arms in the third picture

user5 it scares me that you can recognize lando's arms... user6 girl go touch some grass

yourusername and i'm the one getting called dry

landonorris i didn't want you to feel bad bout you're boring caption 💛

yourusername just posted

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 21,104 others

yourusername you guys could've win at least

tagged carlossainz55, landonorris

view all comments

landonorris isn't a podium not enough for you?

yourusername no landonorris yeah idc what you think yourusername THEN WHY U ASK i'm changing to red bull they'll give me more emotional stability maxverstappen1 please stay there i don't want to have lando in the garage looking for you

user1 cute cute cute friendship

user2 call me crazy but...

user3 but WHAT GIRL? user2 lando soft launching carlos and posting the picture of y/n with another boy (definitely carlos), and them posting each other anytime they can user4 girl they're just friends user5 yeah they've been knowing each other for a long time, they're just very close

carlossainz55 our biggest supporter 💛💛

yourusername always 💛 user2 OUR biggest supporter? them using the same heart lando used in a previous post? user6 paranoid

carlossainz55 just posted

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 67,929 others

carlossainz55 💛💛💛

tagged landonorris, yourusername

view all comments

user1 WAIT OMFG

user2 CARLOS HARD LAUNCHING LANDO AND Y/N I TOLD U GUYS

user3 they're all dating?

user4 isn't that obvious

yourusername cute dog

carlossainz55 Hermosa we talked about calling Lando our dog landonorris she meant kiki you muppet yourusername no i actually meant you baby

user4 y/n won the game with this two

user5 now i know how true jealousy feels like

yourusername my pretty boyss 💛

carlossainz55 🥰🥰

landonorris dream rides 🤩

yourusername lan- carlossainz55 I'm going to ban Lando from this app user3 LANDO LMAOOOO

user6 CARLOS AND KIKI ARE THE CUTEST AHGDJKJHFSA

charlesleclerc so happy for you guys

user7 charles approves

yourusername just posted

liked by carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes and 34,417 others

yourusername your dream girl's dream boys

view all comments

carlossainz55 First

landonorris he's so obsessed carlossainz55 Yeah

landonorris now THAT is a good caption

francisca.cgomes ok cutiess

danielricciardo Y/N blink twice if you need help

landonorris shut the fuck up she's totally fine with us yourusername save me pls

user2 does she even have a job?

landonorris serving cunt? carlossainz55 Being the most beautiful woman in the world? yourusername i'm a publicist but yeah mostly what they said user3 you're so iconic for this

631 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 11 months ago

Text

hotvintagepoll Hot Men Tournament rundown thoughts

I promised a final recap post and here it is! I'll try to cover the questions I saw the most as we closed out the bracket, reveal my ✨secret faves✨, and talk about the biggest surprises and turnarounds I saw in the brackets.

Yes, this will get silly.

ROUND 1

As I've mentioned before, I worked off submissions for who to include in the bracket, so if your fave was missing—that's why. I used submitted pics when I could, but many submissions didn't have one, so I tried to find decent ones in the couple of days I had to prep the first round (I didn't always succeed). By decent, I mean pics where 1) I could see the hot man's face, so not too much moody lighting, and 2) hopefully conveyed something about his vibe, even if it was a funny thing (yes, I showed Howard Keel in full Shakespeare get-up—I'm not beyond putting up a pic because I think it's funny). I didn't know all of these hotties going in, so some I had to guess with, but when I could I tried to pick shots that had a touch of the humor, class, or genre of the hot man.

For Round 1 and Round 2, I grouped the hotties by each decade, so only '60s actors ran against '60s actors, '50s against '50s, etc. Male beauty standards shifted pretty dramatically over the sixty years this tournament covers, and I didn't think it was fair to pit dramatically different styles of beauty against each other immediately.

I pitted hot men against each other based on opposing energies—hot vs cold, elegant vs rough, comedy vs drama, etc.. I wanted the polls to be interesting and I've never liked brackets where everyone is clearly in different "lanes" until the finals! I also wanted to make polls where I couldn't tell which way they would swing, so by setting matchups that felt opposite but equal, I got to be surprised by the bracket results too.

The only reason we had any three-way matchups is because the amount of men submitted didn't round to a nice bracket number. I don't like them generally and find them really hard to balance.

Secret faves from Round 1—I am a James Coburn girlie and knew he would die immediately, so that was not a shock but a bummer. I similarly knew Robert Preston is only magical to people who have seen him do His Little Dance Routines in That One Iowa Musical, but it would have been nice for him to last longer.

Surprises—Jeremy Brett was a last-minute add and I didn't think he really had a shot, so I put him in as a third wheel on the Sean Connery/Dean Martin matchup. Little did I count on the Granada girlies. (Always count on the Granada girlies.) The Elvis/Peter Falk poll was the first one to gain any momentum—Elvis was winning for the first 24 hours but then, my god, did Peter fight back. I didn't expect the Tab/Toshiro poll to make that bad a mincemeat out of Tab—people have different tastes, and I thought the people who like blonde sunny All American white boys might turn out for The Blonde Sunny All American White Boy. Sorry, Tab. I hope you've peeled yourself off the sidewalk by now. And, of course, I was SHOCKED and APPALLED that James Cagney would be obliterated by, of all people, Mr. Bing Crosby.

SHADOW BRACKET

The fervor of the Harold Lloyd and Fredric March people inspired the shadow bracket, and I couldn't be happier at the way it's gone. You were right, the original photos I had for them did suck. Cunty Harold Lloyd in his little life guard uniform was a revelation.

ROUND 2

For Round 2 I'd gotten a better sense of who was doing well and who was not, so a little of that came into play, but I mostly paired on vibes again. (I genuinely think this is a good way to make a fun, challenging bracket.)

Secret faves—Noooo not hot dilf Dick Van Dyke don't take my hot inventor dilf away uwu!!! (He was up against Marlon Brando. I would have been shocked if he'd won but for a minute there, a glorious second, it was possible.) I am also a big old softie for David Niven's particular brand of repression to the point of volcanic rupture, but he is one of many hotties who does not look good without moving and speaking so I figured he would be going.

So much beef—hey! hey you. I ran a poll asking if we are horny for dancers. Yes, was the resounding poll response. Where, then, did all the fucking dancers go? This round we lost Donald O'Connor, Fred Astaire, Harold Nicholas; Sammy Davis Jr., Danny Kaye, Frank Sinatra, and Bing Crosby all sneak into this category as well, by token of having been in the kind of big MGM bang-a-pan-and-put-on-a-show beloved bedlams we all watch at Christmastime. Round 2 voters HATED musical matchups. Except for one.

The one—SOUND OF MUSIC, the voters said, WE LOVE SOUND OF MUSIC. we will KILL the man responsible for salad dressing because of the SOUND OF MUSIC. every other dance man can die but THIS man dances a FOLK DANCE with JULIE ANDREWS in a GARDEN. I did not go into this poll with strong opinions about Christopher Plummer or Paul Newman but my god did I leave having heard all of them.

Surprises—James Edwards/Anthony Perkins matchup was a nail biter! Conrad vs Oscar kept me up at nights. Surprised to see Basil Rathbone survive against Sabu Dastagir—both very fetching, but Sabu had some top-tier propaganda. Cesar Romero put up a surprisingly stiff fight against Cary Grant (an omen for things to come).

Oh horrors—horror heroes surprisingly fell all over the place. I was sure either Bela Lugosi or Turhan Bey would sweep their three-way matchup, but Michael Redgrave of all people carried through; Boris Karloff went down against Johnny Weismuller (while holding hands with fellow fallen hottie Fred Astaire), but at least we got his guacamole recipe before he went. Delighted to see that the Venn diagram of the coalitions who support horror hero Vincent Price and funny lil guy Donald O'Connor is a circle.

Secret faves pt 2—oh yeah, I fucking love Danny Kaye and Donald O'Connor. RIP funny lil kings.

ROUND 3

For some reason this was the hardest one to make matchups for. Oh no, all the men are hot.

Secret faves—Michael Redgrave i love you SO much you're SUCH an idiot, how did you make it as far as round 3. I want you to sweep the whole thing but you should NOT be surviving this. I love you, here's a kiss, go home.

Surprises—Marlon Brando is gone! Errol Flynn is gone! Christopher Plummer exhausted himself beating the organic oreos man to death and goes out with a whimper. Beginning to actually see the roots of #mifunesweep as Tyrone Power, a hot man very different from Burt Lancaster, who was in turn very different from Tab Hunter, also gets swept under the wheels of the unbeatable toshirobus. Conrad Veidt finds that no amount of purring svelte eccentricity compares to the people who will fuck a young Lt. Columbo.

SHADOW BRACKET 2

Cannot believe it but Veidt loses this one too. Perkins sweeps and becomes Prince of the Shadow Realm!

ROUND 4

At this point I've set a formal bracket that I'm following.

Secret faves—this isn't secret anymore, but losing Jimmy Stewart hurt.

Surprises—The Gene Kelly/Jeremy Brett matchup was the diciest one all round, moving back and forth between the two by sometimes .01%. Far more surprising, however, was Cary Grant getting eliminated before the quarterfinals. Grant has never been my type, but he is famous for being THE type, so while the writing had been on the wall the whole tournament—how on earth did Michael Redgrave even get 36% in his matchup?!—seeing Grant go down was a SHOCKER. Other fallen hotties included Gregory Peck, James Dean, Harry Belafonte, and Sessue Hayakawa. Peter Falk finally met his match in Omar Sharif.

QUARTERFINALS

Secret faves—I don't know if it counts as a secret fave, tbh, as my horses in the race really went out with Stewart, but I do have a soft spot here worth mentioning. Here's my childhood dog, Keaton.

The resemblance is truly striking, and yes, he was short, fast, and not prone to smiling.

Surprises—I couldn't predict how any of these matchups would go down, but I was most interested in Keaton vs Sharif, as they are both SO hot in SUCH different ways.

SEMIFINALS:

This was such a good batch of semifinalist contestants. By this point I think we could all tell Mifune was unstoppable (though I thought Sharif might give him a run for his money), but I really didn't know which way Robeson vs Poitier would flip.

FINALS:

I wanted Sidney Poitier to pull a last-minute sweep out of nowhere, but alas, Toshiro is just THAT GOOD (maybe. I will admit that I find Toshiro's domination a little hard to believe, given the variety and hotness of all his competitors; the man is hot but all these men are hot). I'm still happy with how the tournament went.

FINAL MEDITATIONS:

Biggest shock of a dropout: the loss of Paul Newman

Biggest "you people have no taste": the loss of James Cagney

Biggest victory: Paul Robeson making it to the semifinals over often-assumed champion Gregory Peck

Biggest coalition who deserve justice: dancing men

Biggest ask character: vents anon (currently eating Laurence Olivier)

Biggest, uhh, anything: how many of you are here! I genuinely thought it would be me and 10 other people voting for the whole tournament. I'm thrilled it took off like this!

I think that's everything, but I'm happy to answer addl asks. And THANK YOU to everyone for your tags, rants, impassioned propaganda, beautiful pics, and love for the hot men! See you for the ladies!

#hotvintagethoughts

434 notes · View notes

waratah-vroom · 2 years ago

Text

Silly Season (ln4)

Liked by alex_albon, landonorris and 700,284 others yourusername: Oh Canada, you have my heart

lilymhe: Of course you'd post food over race content 😂

“And here we have former F2 champion and the first Williams' driver to win a race since Pastor Maldonado-” you heard Ted call your name as the camera man shoved his lens in your face. “Have a second to talk?”

“Always for you, Ted,” you put on your sparkliest smile for the camera and leant against the railing outside the hospitality building you had been seconds away from entering.

“You and Alex did well in qualifying, did that send some well needed morale throughout the team?”

“P6 and P10. Not too bad, eh? Of course doing well in quali is always a mood boost.”

“While I have you I have to ask about Lewis' contract negotiations.”

You groaned, “you were doing so well, Ted!”

This particular topic had followed you since you’d joined the Mercedes Junior team alongside George in 2017. You became their test driver in 2019 with all eyes watching as you became the first female driver to win the F2 championship. George had been promised an eventual Mercedes seat first and you were happy to wait your turn at Williams.

George hadn’t exactly been thrilled as he watched you accomplish more with the midfield team than he had ever been able to; scoring five podiums and one win since you’d joined the team three seasons ago.

“I know, I know, but the rumour around the paddock is that you’re next in line for the Mercedes seat when Lewis retires.”

“If Lewis retires. And I don’t think he will.” Toto had come to you as soon as they had started contract negotiations. He’d told you flat out that they wanted to keep the former world champion on the team.

“So there’s no plans for you to reunite with your former team mate?”

“Not that I’m aware, no. Alex and I work well together and I’m quite happy with how things are going. We won a race last year, had a few podiums-”

“And the season’s been looking good this year. You’ve gotten points in every race so far.”

“I know! In a Williams!”

“In a Williams!” Suddenly, Ted did what you’d hope he wouldn’t and noticed where you were standing. “I know we’ve been talking about a move to Mercedes, but how about a move to McLaren?”

The cameraman zoomed out to show you leaning against the railing outside McLaren hospitality.

“Would you believe it if I told you they’re the only team that has the name brand Wagon Wheels?”

It didn’t seem like he believed you. “You’ve come all the way to McLaren for biscuits?”

“Not just biscuits, Ted. Wagon Wheels. Plus I need to rub my three hundredths of a second lead in Lando’s face.”

“A true quality of a good sportswoman.” He could sense you were getting fidgety as you kept checking your watch, so like a professional he began to wrap it up. “Lovely talking to you as always, I’ll leave you to your Wagon Wheels.”

“If I see you later I’ll sneak you one,” you grinned as you finally slipped away to enter the building.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“What took you so long? I saw you outside ten minutes ago.” He’d tossed his phone on the couch beside him as soon as you’d stepped foot into his room, shrugging off your spray jacket. He held his arms out wide, a silent signal for you to move into his reach, which you happily did as his hands found rest on your waist.

“Got caught talking to Ted about my move to Mercedes,” your words were mumbled through a mouthful of biscuit and marshmallow. You hadn’t been lying about the Wagon Wheels.

He pulled you forward until your knees hit the couch, forcing you onto his lap. “When did that happen?”

Licking chocolate off your lips you smirked, “It didn’t. Hi baby,” you slung your arms over his shoulders and his cold hands slipped beneath your tee-shirt.

“I missed you today.”

“You saw me in the pit lane an hour ago.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. I missed this,” he squeezed the flesh on your hips, his lips catching the underside of your jaw when you moved your head back. “You coming to my room tonight?”

“I dunno,” you fiddled with the drawstrings on his hoodie, twisting them around you finger. “Got a big race to prepare for tomorrow. Gotta keep my lead.”

You knew you should sleep alone before the race and get the full eight hours your coach was always talking about, but this man had his fingers wrapped around your heart and you knew it wouldn’t take much of his pleading or puppy dog eyes to end up in the same bed.

“Baby,” his little whine was always the same when he wasn’t getting his way, and you hated to admit it was adorable. And hard to turn down.

“We’re not having sex.”

He nodded, “just cuddling. I’ll even come to your room.”

“You say that but we’ll get in bed and you’ll try something,” you knew from experience. It’d happened before and all the thoughts about sleep and rest went out of your head the second he had his head between your thighs.

“I won’t, I swear. I’ll shower before I come over, I still have those pictures-”

“Lando,” you didn’t need to be reminded of the photos hidden away behind a passcode on Snapchat.

“Pretty please? I won’t even say anything if you want to watch that show you like.”

“You wanna watch Never Have I Ever?”

“No,” he drew out the syllable and you could feel him fidget beneath you. “But I’ll sit next to you and play on my phone while you watch it.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you,” it came out sarcastically but he just grinned, pressing his lips against your own.

“Do you think we have time for a-”

“Do not even think of finishing that question," you glared at him as he had the audacity to pout, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip as his fingers crept up to tug on the hook of your bra. "You have ten minutes."

part 2 | read more of my writing here.

Made to order for a sweet anon for my perfume collection xx

ﾟ｡ ⋆ mags' radio: Pls join me in my fantasy of williams being a midfield team. I really love the idea of George being jealous that reader has been able to achieve more in a Williams than he ever was. Anyway, I said that I had a bigger backstory for driver!reader and lando, so if you like this let me know and I might write the beginning of there relationship/ them revealing it to the grid. Going to do a part 2/soft launch insta series for them next! ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

taglist: @fulla02reads @lazybot @flowerchild-96 @camillalarke @cool-ultra-nerd @azxulaa @hrlzy @ghosttwit @inejghafawife @booksobsess @formulakay @1655-1485 @chonkybonky @peachiicherries @toalltheboyswhowastedmytime @lilacsimps @diaa-20 @love4lando @imsorare @lunnnix @ctrlyomomma

(if you're not highlighted I couldn't tag you. If you'd like to be removed from the tag list please send me a message.)

#waratah-vroom perfumes #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #f1 imagine #f1 fic recs #f1 fanfic #f1 #lando norris imagine #lando norris drabble

1K notes · View notes

luvbinnies · 1 year ago

Text

rollercoaster of emotions

sungchan just wanted to go to the amusement park with his two friends, unforunately for him, those two friends are absolutely smitten for each other

Genre: wonbin x Gn!reader. fluff humour. Warnings: mention of piss/pee, sungchan third wheeling. Rollercoasters, swearing (I think), I wrote this in three in the morning 😭 wc: 1.5k

A/n: I won’t be posting anything until probably next year since my last exam is the fourth and I should probably have been studying instead of writing this lol

“Wow I swear this is the most fun I’ve ever had at the park before.” You state as the game worker hands Wonbin the big penguin plush he had won for you.

“Yeah that’s because it’s your first time at the park for fun, and not to be working.” Sungchan replies, tired of all the complaining you do as a worker at the park.

“And you’re not spending half your wallet on stupid plushies.” Wonbin grumbles. “You’re the one with the job, why did I have to pay for your game, just for you to continuously lose.”

He crosses his arms around the toy not letting you have it. “I had to win for you or you would milk out every penny from my pocket.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at your friend in front of you as he frowns with a pouty face and turns the other way pretending to act upset, at least you think he was pretending.

“Bini, I was the reason you got in the park for free because I work here, the least you could do is let me hold my child.” referring to the penguin in his arms, but he still refuses to acknowledge you.

“Fine, let’s go get those animal ear things. I’ll pay for all three of us to make up for it.” You attempt to grab his hands, but really so you can get the toy from him. Wonbin knew what you were trying to do and wasn’t going to just let it happen after he watched you empty out his wallet and repeatedly fail, probably the simplest rigged game at the park.

Causing the two of you to wrestle for the big plushie. Sungchan has to awkwardly stand there as two of his friends who are so obviously smitten for each other fight over a toy like children.

The two of you almost trip when Sungchan barges between you two and captures the fake animal for himself. “Hmm, what to name you? Mr. Peepee pants?”

“What no that’s so stupid-”

“I love it.” You unintentionally speak up as Wonbin was talking.

“Yeah great name.” Wonbin wholeheartedly agrees. Sungchan watches as his friend helplessly simps over you as you start contemplating whether the first name should be ‘Uranus’ or ‘Neon’.

“You know what I think,” Wonbin starts and you give your undivided attention to him. Sungchan knows that you only do that for Wonbin, whether it’s intentional or not, he can see, everyone can see how you are with him. Maybe except you two. Somehow both blind to the other’s admiration.

“I think we should get those animal ear bands, antlers would look great on Sungchan hyung.”

“Yn, it’s not that serious.” Sungchan whines as you take forever in choosing which animal headband would look best on Wonbin.

There weren't any antlers thankfully for Sungchan, so the bear ones were a good second choice. Sungchan had mentioned how’d you look good with the frog eyes one, knowing fully well that Wonbin thinks you look the best in green.

No doubt about it, Wonbin literally said that in his sleep one time.

Wonbin was just staring at you going back and forth between a bunch of different animal bands, both of you too absorbed at what you were doing, not noticing the employees getting annoyed on how much time it is to take to choose a hair accessory.

“I think I got it.” You walk back to the two, biting back a smile holding the band behind you.

“What is it?” Wonbin asks.

“Close your eyes.”

The boy in front of you rolls his eyes but obeys your demand.

You gently place the band on his head with a stupid smile on your face as you admire your best friend, all sungchan can do is groan at the interaction.

You tell him to look and he opens his eyes to see you smiling down at him with a cheeky smile on your face. He thinks you look pretty.

Maybe bro was thinking out loud because you seem kinda startled and confused saying, “Yes you do look pretty, but you didn’t even get to see it yet.” Awkwardly scratching the back of your head.

Wonbin clears his throat with the back of his hand, “Yeah, but I m-meant it like a question. Is it pretty?” Heat rushing through his face as he tries to cover for himself.

“Yeah, pretty. You’re always pretty.”

Sungchan is just standing there watching his two friends awkwardly throwing glances at each other and turning their faces away as if they aren’t right in front of each other in the middle of the store. It’s taking every ounce of his to simply not drive off a cliff.

The awkwardness between the two of you passes when sungchan starts pestering them to go on a ride with him.

It’s kind of always like that with you two, teasing and joking until someone compliments the other on a thing and both the receiver and the one who complimented get flustered over it.

“Isn’t that like the fastest ride in the park?” A terrified Wonbin asks.

“I think I read somewhere that it’s all of Korea.” You mention.

Sungchan knows that everything remotely scary is absolutely frightening to the younger boy and you’re quite the opposite. You have the most irrational fear of pumpkins. Not Jacko lanterns, just pumpkins, claiming they are frightening to simply look at and that you will simply start screaming when in the presence of one.

“Wonbin you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I can just go with yn-”

“No I’ll go. I love rides.” He attempts to say as convincingly as possible.

Which confuses both you and sungchan. “Bini, since when did you like rides? You can barely handle the pirate ship ones.”

“u-uh, it’s I- that ride you guys want to go on, I used to go on it as a kid, it’s just been a while.”

Frowning, not convinced, “Are you sure? You know we don’t have to go if you don’t want-”

He grabs your arm, cutting you off, walking in the direction of the ride. “No, I’m sure.”

Waiting in line wonbin would not let go of your hand, instead of being worried that maybe he was frightened about the whole ride thing, or that people around you might think you two are those annoying couples in amusement park rides who can’t keep their hands off of each other.

You were really distracted at the fact you felt like you were losing circulation in your hand and everytime sungchan said some fact about the ride his grip would just get tighter and tighter, making you want to squeeze sungchan’s neck hard everytime he opens his mouth.

Finally when it was your guys’ turn Wonbin lets go of your hand so he can put your guys’ bags in the boxes. Only for you to realize that you guys were at the end and the cut off was before sungchan, as he was behind the both of you.

Before you could mention it and say that you didn’t mind waiting for the next round. Sungchan had pushed you and when you turned to him he just gave you a quick wink and started making kissy faces.

Rolling your eyes at him, you kind of figured that sungchan knew you might’ve liked your friend without you ever telling him so.

Getting into the seat next to wonbin at the back since they were the only seat available, the minute you touch the seat, wonbin’s hand is on yours all over again. This time it was shaking completely.

“Wonbin, are you sure you want to do this? Sure you went as a kid, but most kids don’t understand the concept of danger and you're shaking badly.”

You stare at him as his eyes are closed, taking in deep breaths slowly. Watching as they start to speed up once the ride starts moving. The best thing you could do is hold his hand in yours.

As the ride starts pulling upwards he speaks up, “You know I never understood as a kid people liked going on scary things like these.”

“Huh? Didn’t you go on this one though?”

“No, I lied.” His voice became eight octaves higher.

“What? Wonbin why?”

“Because I wanted to go with you, I wanted to be with you-” his voice ends his sentence with a shriek when the ride stops at the edge of the highest concave.

His hand was not squeezing badly onto yours and as the ride went down you couldn’t really be scared anymore.

Sungchan got off of his ride with the wind completely messing up his hair and a jump in his step. Walking to the exit, he sees his two friends waiting for him. He sees the two of you still holding hands from before and wonbin’s face hiding in your neck still probably shaken up from the ride.

Now he’s wondering which highway to sleep on tonight.

293 notes · View notes

stevie-petey · 9 months ago

Note

ive been feeling a little stug deprived but i cannot for the life of me think of a blurb idea so,, hit me with a blurb you've been wishing to write about stug :3

anon u also stumped me like i KNOW i have blurbs ive been dying to be asked about but suddenly my mind is blank ,,,, pls take this silly thing my brain managed to concoct

enjoy !

"one more loop around the block before i take you home?" steves voice rasps out, husky from lack of use. neither of you have spoke much as he drives the two of you around hawkins. its been at least an hour now; music plays softly throughout the car and the windows are rolled down to let in the early june nights cool breeze.

you lean your head against the passenger seat and listen to freddie mercurys smooth voice as he plays over the speakers. hes become one of your favorite artists thanks to steve. "i dont want to go home just yet."

steve grins, he knew youd say this, and you smile at the knowledge that he knows you so well.

his fingers are wrapped lazily around the steering wheel as he takes a slow turn back towards downtown hawkins. you watch his movements, illuminated by the lamp posts that spill light onto the otherwise dark wooded street. its late, the first monday of june and the last day of your junior year.

it had been steves last day of high school, and all he had wanted to do was spend it with you in his car, driving in circles around your small town.

you close your eyes and allow the moment to seep into your bones. youre in steve harringtons car, there are crickets outside as he drives you around the town the two of you met and grew up in, and youre in the car with the boy that you love and you know that he loves you, too.

"you still with me, angel?"

you hum. "im still here, honey."

"your eyes are closed."

"im enjoying the moment," your eyes remain closed and yet you can feel the smile that steve flashes your way. you can hear it in his voice, you can feel the shift in the air.

the car slows down at one of hawkins only stop lights. steve looks over at you and feels a heavy wave of affection roll over him. youre curled into yourself in the passenger seat, your hair spills over the headrest as you close your eyes, and its rare that he gets to see you so relaxed. "i can take you home if youre tired."

"but i love driving around with you," you mumble, feeling sleep beginning to crawl over you. but steves car is warm and smells like home. "one more loop, please?"

again steve feels affection caress his face when he hears your words. youve only curled further into yourself and your eyes are still closed; steve knows you really are struggling to stay away now. its late, he knows he should get you home soon so you can sleep, yet steve cant bring himself to deny your request.

"one more loop, but then im taking you to bed."

you giggle, happy youve won, but you try to argue some more anyways. no one else has ever been able to match your wit, so you revel in the quips you share with steve. "fine, its the first day of summer. dont be such a grandpa."

steve laughs, his voice is still husky and you can feel it drape over your tired body. "angel, weve got all summer to drive around this stupid town."

weve got all summer.

"promise?"

more crickets chirp and the car begins to drive once more, the stoplight now green. freddie mercury sings about the love of his life and how he doesnt want her to hurt him. your question of a promise joins alongside his pleads, and steve understands.

"i promise." he reaches for your hand and you feel his soft lips press against your palm. hes slow with the kiss, as if hes sealing his promise with it, and your body fizzes at the touch. "now lets get you home."

you bring the hand that hes holding to your face and nuzzle against it, too tired to respond with words. you simply nod your head and keep his hand there as a content sigh escapes you. steve has to bite his lip, scared he'll say the three words that terrify him.

youre everything.

youre his everything.

but steve has all summer to tell you this.

so instead he drives you home, taking the long way just so his hand can rest against the dip of your cheek for an extra few minutes.

#ask #anon #m speaks #m's writing #come home blurb #set in between seasons 2 and 3 !#steve is so so so in love #and theres something so intimate about driving around in someones car late at night without saying anything

105 notes · View notes

always-just-down-the-street · 2 months ago

Text

Okay, chat, so I am trying to work out a timeline for the Misremembered Lanes AU, and I am realizing there are two very interesting points to tackle before I even get to the finale- And honestly, both of them are way too interesting of topics to just do myself, so for the fans of the AU, here are your two major points.

Everything's A-OJ in Season 2.

OJ's elimination in Season 3.

These both feel like the first major wrinkles/differences in this AU's timeline compared to canon- because these two moments, they tackle directly into something I mentioned OJ struggles with. Control.

What happens when he's finally given control of the show, but now has to deal with new contestants that...don't know him enough to excuse his egomaniac/control freak tendencies or have the subconscious belief that because he won last season, he must be good? What happens when people actually question him, not like the people who just stay in the hotel do? Would his facade slip? Would anyone notice?

On the other hand- what happens when he finally loses all control? When against all odds, the "king of Inanimate Insanity"...finally has to face failure, face elimination? Would he begin to relapse into his original programming? Would he feel a relief he hasn't felt in so long but can't explain why and now chases after it once he's back at the hotel?

And on the other side of the coin, how does Taco change before the finale? Does she have any lingering feelings haunting her during S2 like OJ does? How does this influence her alliance with Microphone or her attempt to take over the show in Truth or Flare? That's definitely a fun one.

Consider this a post where anyone can post their headcanons or ideas for the Misremembered Lanes AU- they can follow these points or they can just be general ideas you might have about the AU involving OJ and Taco, maybe Suitcase and Box since they're included now, and obviously in saying that, all spoilers are allowed. Who knows, maybe I'll even make them canon if I think they fit enough (or are cool enough)...

In fact, let me begin with an idea of my own, get the wheel spinning.

~ 0 ~

What if Taco and OJ's buttons in MeLife are flipped after the S1 finale?

OJ's button spawns Taco, Taco's button spawns OJ- MePhone thinks it's some weird kink that occurred due to the 4S downgrade and it becomes one of the many things he hides, this one half because he just doesn't want anyone thinking he's about to revive Taco apropos of nothing and half because he genuinely doesn't know why.

But when the revelations start happening, MePhone distracts himself by wondering a question:

"Why would the downgrade cause OJ and Taco's buttons to be flipped, anyway? Neither of them died while I was dead, else they wouldn't respawn at all like Bow- did 4S do something? Or…"

And that's when he remembers those initial drawings he made.

OJ - Egotistical, Hates Losing, Caring?, Manipulative? Taco - Unpredictable, Wild Card, Underdog

…Their buttons aren't flipped.

They're flipped.

And consequently, when Suitcase tries to summon OJ and Paper…Taco's just as confused as everyone else when she appears next to him instead.

~ 0 ~

So, what do you all think? Feel free to say so in reposts or comments or whatever you do.

29 notes · View notes

lover-of-mine · 3 months ago

Note

Lady Whistledown.... Baby.. The dumpster is on fire!!!! Let's go to the upside down world because I don't know if we should laugh or cry.

First things first. I have never been able to accurately track what OG Buddies made their prominent burners on X and Insta. It was like June when Oliver started blocking them that they were created. And they just vanished. All gone. So much traffic and propaganda gone. Also some of them now pretending they want back on the Buddie train like they never trashed it.

Two. Huge conspiracy that this was all out of nowhere. I mean he mentioned Eddie on an anniversary date and sure this shit just fell out of the sky. But the election, the Buddies the all of it just became to much and Tim cut it prematurely.

Three. They have always hated Oliver but now it's worse. Lous words make it seem like poor him, he wanted the story. It was evil Oliver and his crush on Ryan that ended it all. He basically became a martyr to them.

Four.. they are going nowhere. Don't think you are getting a break. They hope it's the beginning of the rom com slow burn. Buck will realize he needs to fight to get Tommy back. Or just hate watching. Hating on all things Buddie and Ryan and Oliver.

Lastly everyone should just watch their in boxes. They have always false flagged and pretended to be "Buddies" to create chaos. It won't stop. It will be a long hiatus after next week.

But back on grass. Honestly it's the OG Buddies that switched ships that are the most pissed. They didn't even get an angsty break up. It was literally so boring. And they hate he called him Buck after they spent months making a big deal about Evan. It's like they think it was designed to wound them on purpose.

I will keep you posted if anything more interesting happens. I feel like it's going to be a long weekend.

Hello baby. This is... wow. I can't even say it's unexpected, because it is very expected. I actually watched a bunch of those accounts disappear. Turning on Oliver is literally the most obvious thing they could ever do, I literally read a post saying they wish the show had written off Oliver instead. The idea the show filmed different ending and the episode was edited because Trump won is literally the most insane thing I've seen coming from them and that's saying something. And honestly, I was bracing myself from them not to go anywhere anyway so. I did giggle when he called him Buck, I mean I was giggling the whole scene because green, but that was a highlight lol. The relationship ended as uneventful as it happened, and it was brought on by Abby of all thing AND highlighted the way Buck is very much still on the hamster wheel. Anyone who's been here before 704 caught on the way that was a repetition of patterns, I can only imagine how mad they are after jumping ship and creating all this chaos. Please do keep me posted, it's definitely gonna be an interesting weekend.

#911 #911 spoilers #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌#spy network #anti bucktommy #lady whistledown anon

51 notes · View notes

formula-fun · 2 months ago

Note

hello dear, do you think we can get a little snippet from the if i had words sequel? ☺️ you confirming that there’s actually a sequel happening made my whole week. 🩷

hellooooo my dear! yes you may <333 i think i owe you a long one since it's going to be a bit of a wait--can't remember if i posted this one before but here you go!

IV. THING ONE AND THING TWO // WOULD YOU LOVE ME IF I WAS ANYTHING BUT WHAT I AM?

A scorpion asks a frog to carry it across the river. The frog hesitates, fearing that the scorpion will sting it, but the scorpion tells the frog not to worry because if the scorpion stung the frog it would doom them both. The frog agrees and allows the scorpion to sit upon its back. Halfway across the river the scorpion stings the frog.

“Why did you do that?” the frog asks as they both begin sinking into the water.

The scorpion replies, “it’s in my nature.”

“That’s a stupid story,” Max says, biting at his thumb nail. Beside him, Victoria is dead asleep.

Sophie gently removes his thumb from his mouth. “Ah, do we need to paint this again?”

“No,” he huffs. He sits on his hand. “It’s a stupid story. The frog should have known.”

“Well, that’s the moral. Cruel people will always behave in cruel ways. We can’t expect them to be any different.”

“But the scorpion isn’t cruel. It’s like when I got stung by a bee, and dad said it wasn’t the bee’s fault because flowers are for bees so I shouldn’t go in them.”

Sophie purses her lips. “Well, it was a mistake. You didn’t know there were bees in the flowers.”

“Oh.” He turns that over. “So it’s the frog’s fault? Because it should know the scorpion can sting?”

She’s silent for a long beat. “It’s nobody’s fault,” she says at last, her voice firm. She closes the book. “Enough stories, hmm?”

“I’m not tired yet.”

“No? Are you hungry? We still have some treats from grandma.”

And just like that the story was swept clean out of his head.

Years later, he met Charles.

Years later, sweeping around karting tracks was already old hat. He bumped wheels and pushed other children off, and he saw them cry to their parents about it after, and he didn’t feel a thing. It sucked sometimes, the way they treated him after, but he didn’t mind it that much. That was racing; that was life. If they couldn’t handle it, that wasn’t really his problem.

Charles pushed him off the track.

Max shoved him, and Charles shoved back. Charles drove him into puddles and across muddy strips of grass; Charles drove over Max’s tires and across his front wing and smiled about it after. Max gave as good as he got, and he didn’t feel any particular way about it until the third time it happened, when Charles took his helmet off and stood on the second step of the podium and looked a little bored and a little irritated; he was standing above Max that day, but he still hadn’t won.

Oh, Max had thought, and something slotted into place in the back of his head—something strange, something unusual. Oh. It’s in your nature.

He understands Charles, now. Beautiful creature; unstoppable thing, formed out of the same stuff that Max is. Charles is a shark in bright red water: to stop moving is to stop breathing. Max is holding his breath, these days. He’s holding his breath, and holding his daughter. He’s making bottles and reading storybooks and when he lays down in bed at night every muscle is tense until he gets up the next morning—every muscle like a spring, waiting for the gun to go off so that he can run and run and run until he reaches wherever it is that Charles is in the world.

“I miss you,” Charles tells him on the phone. Max had seen him win in Baku earlier that day. He’d held the trophy high on the podium and Max had pointed to the television and said that’s Mama, and Julie had squirmed and laughed at Max but not looked where he was pointing.

“I wanna come home. I miss you so bad. I feel like I’m going crazy sometimes. I can’t sleep at all, I just want to be around you and Julie.”

“Yeah?” Max murmurs. He’s laying on the couch, his head against the arm. Julie is on his chest with one thumb in her mouth, and when he cranes his neck he can kiss her head and smell her strawberry baby shampoo. “I miss you too.”

“What do you miss the most?”

“Just having you around. Hearing you in the other room. Knowing you’re close by.” His throat feels tight; he swallows hard against the feeling.

The line crackles as Charles breathes, even and slow. “If you close your eyes right now is it just like I’m there?” he says quietly.

He thinks about doing it for a beat, but can’t; he can’t imagine the feeling of the illusion shattering when Charles hangs up. “Charles, come on,” he says, and his voice sounds pinched even to his own ears.

“Max.”

He clears his throat; settles his hand on Julie’s back and rubs little circles, over and over. “Tell me about the race,” he says instead. “You did—after the first stop you were doing such a late apex for a while into turn 1, but that’s so hard on the new tires when they’re not in the window.”

“The sun was setting. There was a cool patch of pavement on the outside that made it easier,” Charles says. “Max, I’ll be home so soon.”

“Did that work though? Even on hards? I have had that work on mediums, but you run the risk of so much spin there.”

“I short-shifted.”

“To get more heat into the rears?

“I know this is hard for you, baby,” Charles rushes out, and Max’s breath stalls in his throat.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But you know it’s okay, right? I miss you and I’m coming right back as soon as I can. I’m going to try for tomorrow, okay? I know it hurts right now, but we’re always a family even when we’re not together. I’m always coming back. Whenever I’m away from you I’m trying to find a way back to you.”

Max’s eyes burn. He breathes very slowly and very shallowly. His lips wobble, so he presses them together. His throat aches, so he clenches his jaw until he doesn’t feel it.

“Do you understand?” Charles says. He sounds broken. “I’m coming right back.”

His lungs stinging, he takes a breath finally. It’s tight and uneven, more like the inhale before a sob.

#please be nice to my draft tho i havent edited it at all #if i had words #writing tag #this is also angsty so sorry #a lot of the sequel has fables and fairytales spread throughout and most of the time its fun

26 notes · View notes

honeypiehotchner · 1 year ago

Text

Devil’s Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part four

Super short, because things are about to get insane, so...

Warnings: angst, tension, the works

Don’t forget to follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be notified when a new chapter goes up!

Four: You’re not who you are to anyone -- “Good Looking” by Suki Waterhouse

Strauss said she wanted to speak to Hotch as soon as the jet landed, and no later.

Hotch dismissed the team and took one of the cars with Rossi, back to the BAU. Hotch drove, his hands clenching the wheel so hard that Rossi was beginning to notice.

“Everything okay?” Dave asked.

Aaron relaxed his hands, but his shoulders remained tense, his eyebrows drawn together. “Erin wants to speak with me.”

“She usually does,” Dave says. “She’s probably worried about you, Aaron. We all are.”

“Dave, I’m fine.” Hotch wished everyone would stop fucking asking. He didn’t feel like repeating himself; he never liked doing that. “I’m where I need to be.”

“Are you?” Dave pressed. “Or should you be on vacation?”

Hotch scoffed. “To where?”

“Anywhere,” Dave laughed. “Anywhere but here.”

Hotch laughed with him. He had a point. Anywhere but there would’ve been nice. Anywhere but there, where Hotch wasn’t confined by the BAU’s rules and Strauss’s constant gaze, waiting for him to do something she could fire him for. If she could, she’d fire him for the way he handled this recent unsub, but Hotch didn’t think she had any grounds. He could argue his way out of it if he needed to, and she knew that.

He was a prosecutor before he came to the FBI, after all. He knew how this game worked, and how to play it.

Strauss knew all of this, which is why she brought the director in. She needed backup.

Hotch knew from the moment he entered her office that it was an intervention. He knew right away he had lost the game. At least, the game they were playing. He had a different one, and he had already won.

He accepted their deal. Minimum four months extended bereavement time, with pay. He was not to step foot in the BAU for the entire time, or communicate with the team about any of the cases. He was required to pass another psychological evaluation before returning, but it would be random.

His sentence was a suspension, without the official title. He was put in time-out, so to speak, and he hated it, but he accepted it. What he needed to do could no longer be done here. He needed time to himself to do what he wanted. And now he had it.

He headed downstairs to his office, first stopping in Rossi’s to tell him what Strauss ordered, and what he agreed to. Dave seemed pleased, albeit skeptical. He knew how Aaron got when he had to stay away, but he hoped this one would stick. And help.

In his office, Hotch loaded his briefcase with case files he had shoved aside in the past. Cases JJ brought him that were odd, but he felt weren’t good enough to warrant the team’s time. Cases he should’ve paid attention to. Cases that he knew he needed to close.

He had wrongs he needed to right, and now he had the time to do so. He won.

+++

You returned to the BAU with Morgan, who had plans to pick up Garcia. You told him you needed to grab a few things from your desk, but you could tell he didn’t really believe you.

Nonetheless, Derek drove and went straight to Garcia’s lair when you arrived. You headed into the bullpen.

Peering up at Hotch and Rossi’s offices, you saw Rossi at his desk, on the phone, and Hotch in his office, packing things away.

Shit. This wasn’t what you wanted, not really. You didn’t expect Strauss to do anything about it. Or maybe you did, but you didn’t want to admit it-- admit that Aaron was really starting to worry you.

You dropped your bag on your desk and sprinted up the stairs, bypassing the knock and barging into Hotch’s office.

“How’d it go with Strauss?” you blurted, out of breath, terrified and hoping he wasn’t angry. But his moods were so out of control lately, how were you supposed to know?

Hotch paused, leveling his gaze at you. His hand rested on his briefcase. “How did you know I was with Strauss?”

You laughed uncomfortably, your arms swinging by your sides. “Rossi said something on the jet.”

“No he didn’t.”

Another uncomfortable laugh. You gestured toward Hotch, saying, “Then you must have.”

“I did not.”

“Why does it matter?” you pressed, already feeling backed into a corner. Truthfully, you didn’t expect him not to figure it out. Either by your big mouth or his own profiling. It seemed like he already knew before you came into his office. “How did it go? Are you alright? These are more important, Aaron, how are you feeling?”

Hotch knew you had told Strauss something, he just didn’t know what exactly. Until that moment.

“I’m fine,” he replied neutrally. “I’m taking the remainder of my bereavement time.”

The surprise rocked you so hard that you took a step back. You expected him to fight Strauss and for Strauss to lose, for some big argument to ensue and cause a scene. But he said it so…calmly.

“Oh! Really? That’s… That’s good. That’s great, right? How do you feel about it?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” he shrugged. “I suppose it’s a good idea.”

“It is,” you murmured, hoping he’d at least see that you talked to Strauss for his own good. You cared deeply for him, which is why you couldn’t let this go. “I think it’ll be really good for you to take some more time to yourself.”

What about us? You wanted to ask, but kept yourself restrained. What will we do about us?

“I think so too,” he answered. “Strauss told me not to communicate with anyone from the team while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, for work stuff,” you said, sounding a little hopeful. “But we can still…” your voice trailed away. What were the two of you doing?

He shook his head. The action was so small. You almost didn’t see it. You wondered if he really meant it.

“Aaron…” You shook your head now. Surely, he couldn’t be serious. The two of you had just gotten over yourselves, had just begun to relax into each other’s arms without worry. You had just gotten comfortable. You didn’t mind that he was hurting; you wanted to help him through it. Why wouldn’t he let you help him through it?

“I’m sorry,” he said. You saw that he didn’t mean it.

Tears formed in your eyes and you continued shaking your head. This wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted him to get help, not leave you behind. Not like this.

“Please,” you cried. “Aaron, please. Don’t do this.”

His expression didn’t change. You don’t remember if he even looked sad.

You don’t know who you said goodbye to that day, but it wasn’t Aaron. Not the Aaron you know, not the Aaron you love, not the Aaron who held you so close at night and kissed you to sleep.

This man before you was different. You couldn’t place how, but you knew. He was different.

“Stay,” you whispered, as you watched him latch his briefcase. “Stay, please.”

He didn’t.

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #unsub!hotch x fem!reader #unsub!hotch x reader #unsub!hotch x you #unsub!hotch #unsub!hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

228 notes · View notes

melanatedkink · 1 month ago

Text

Good Job

Pairing: Y/N x Mirio

Pro Hero AU

A/N: The "infamous" Mirio rewrite that I meant to write earlier, but the words weren't doing the thing. Hopefully this is a better send up to dom Mirio.

Warnings: friends to lovers, domxsub, soft dom, praise kink, aftercare

Jealousy was an ugly thing. Living up to other people's expectations was a war in its own right. But, if reaching that magical "potential" that others decided for you was the goal, then jealousy was the ever moving goal post. You didn't know why you felt this emotion so deeply. So, you sat at your desk and backtracked to the moment you moved here.

Weirdly enough, you moved due to your jealousy. You had barely graduated with a bachelor's degree after a long hiatus from school. A break year that felt more like a reminder of how close you were to getting to your intended goal. You were an only child growing up, but that didn't stop your parents from finding new objects for their praise. They never seemed to shut up about every other achievement that your cousins seemed to make. And if they thought to bring you up in conversation, it was always laced with ideas of potential, never acknowledging your interests. So you warped your own hobbies, and took up after school activities that won you significant points on your resume before you even left for college. You even started school during the summer just to get a head start. You studied. You pulled all-nighters. You worked hard to get the best grades. Although, in all your efforts, your body just couldn't keep up. You were hellbent on at least one compliment. Hell, a second of recognition was more than enough motivation to get you through two and a half years of school until your finals week came up.

On your way to class, you passed out at the wheel. You woke up in alone in a hospital. It didn't dawn on you until you were filling out a police report that A.) Your recovery would postpone your finals. B.) Your parents would be pissed if you came home without anything good to say about school. So, as soon as you were discharged, you moved from your dorm to a nearby apartment complex. You took up a job at a hero's agency in the mail room. The hero in question was a new graduate of U.A. by the name of Suneater. Before the end of the year, the agency had gained a co-owner. Mirio Togata, a close friend of Suneater.

On the surface, Mirio made you uncomfortable. He just seemed unrealistically joyful and friendly. Qualities that you often wrote off as manipulative or just disingenuous. It wasn't his fault he was happy. But, it wasn't your fault that you felt that way. You'd learned enough lessons in dealing with people that making that assumption often helped you avoid getting hurt. So, you dug your nose deeper into your work until you finally made enough to leave the agency.

Upon sending in your resignation, Mirio walked into the office. You flinched as he came up to you, his usual blinding smile turning your stomach in knots. It did not help that he was handsome in his hero costume. You quickly handed him the notice. He held up a hand, keeping you from making your speedy get away. His blue eyes scanned the note in its entirety, making you wish you had kept it short instead of oversharing. He raised a brow as he read over your accomplishments, even commented on your major. You attempted to keep it surface level as you explained it, until he gestured for more context. You two spent nearly an hour talking about everything that led up to you working in the mailroom. The only thing that broke this rare conversation was Suneater peeking his head in to usher Mirio to a public appearance. Two things stuck with you as he parted. One, he made sure you were looking in his eyes. Two, he said: "I'm proud of you."

Alarmed, you floated around him, silently bowing as you took your leave. You spent the next few days in a haze as you slowly got reacclimated to the hustle of gunning for your degree. You nearly forgot that you had exchanged your number with Mirio somewhere in your conversation. Had he not called you in the middle of you studying one night, you certainly would have let that be a chance encounter. As you pushed yourself through your academic efforts, Mirio kept up with your physical health. If he couldn't get you to put the laptop away, he at least drug you to an outdoor restaurant to get you to touch grass while you ate. And he made you eat. To the point where your tummy instinctively growled upon meeting up with him. He kept you mini fridge filled with water, accompanied you on your chore days, and even drilled you with your studies. And you let him, all in the hopes that he'd keep saying those four sacred words to you.

Finally, your work paid off. You made salutatorian, with a GPA of 4.3 to boast about. On the morning of graduation, Mirio sent you a congratulations message. He wouldn't be there to see you walk the stage, but he promised to catch up afterward to properly celebrate you. A sentiment you held close, but not as close as the idea that your family would be there. You ensured that they knew that you were graduating today. And you were so excited. You just knew they would be there. But, as your name was called, you couldn't hear any cheers in the background. As you accepted your diploma, you couldn't recognize anyone in the crowd. You plastered a smile on your face as the dean shook your hand. You stumbled off stage utterly embarrassed and confused. As your peers lifted their caps to the air, you checked your phone to make sure your message had sent. Your chest tightened as it seemed you weren't the topic anymore. Instead, a family friend had graduated on the same day. Pictures of your parents with this random kid flooded the chat. Nothing but praise surrounded this person whom they never even introduced to you. You figured if they were so important, you would have at least heard about them...

Mirio caught up to you in the stadium, sitting in the same spot. The crowd was thin as he made his way to you. He peered over your shoulder. He tapped your cheek with a bouquet he'd purchased for you. As you tilted your head up, his heart dropped. He quickly dropped to his knees, and held your face with both hands.

"Hey, hey I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't see you," he stuttered.

You let out a choked sob as you tried to explain, "It's- it's not you I...I'm not mad at you it's just... I- they didn't show up."

"They?" he repeated. He slowly took your phone from you. He scrolled through the messages until he reached your message about your graduation. His lips thinned. Not a single word about your accomplishment. There was a time lapse between those messages and yours. And he couldn't see your name anywhere. He let out a frustrated sigh, and returned his palms to your face.

"Today is about you, not them. In fact, this phone is mine until tomorrow,"

You shake your head, reaching out for the device, "I just need to send one more thing-"

"No!" he doubled down by shoving your phone in his pocket. He gently placed your flowers into your hand, "Come on. Let me celebrate you. It's not easy to graduate, and you... you're going to be pampered today,"

With that, Mirio ushered you out of the stadium and fixated his attention on you. After you changed out of your robe, you spent the day in the city. Any whim you voiced was answered immediately. If it was a meal you wanted, you were sure to finish you plate without a bill to think of. If it was a movie you wanted to watch, you had tickets and a bowl of popcorn in your lap. And if you just wanted to hear his voice as you walked the city streets, he gave you an encore of stories to listen to.

You two made it back to Mirio's "humble" abode after cleaning out your dorm. He suggested that you live with him until you could renew your lease at your old apartment. As you looked around, you almost suggested staying there. It was a spacious home in a wealthy neighborhood. A place you could definitely see yourself stretching out and thriving in. An idea interrupted your grandiose thoughts.

"We forgot to take pictures!"

You snatched your clothing bag from the couch and quickly unzipped it. Mirio smiled as you hastily donned your robe. It was rare to see you excited over anything aside from a good grade in class. All he wanted was more of you.

You scooped your bundle of flowers and posed under the lighting. He picked up his phone and stepped a couple paces back.

"Put your tassle to the other side for me," he pointed the camera at you, "Alright, three two one..."

With his help, you created a small album of pictures to look back at later. You scrolled through the photos at his side, too excited to sit down after that. Meanwhile, Mirio ventured to ask, "Who's Jaqueline?"

You froze, trying to pinpoint the name until, "Oh you mean the girl who graduated today? I have no idea. But, she's not me so that's probably why my family is with her today."

Mirio blinked. You realized how cold you sounded and laughed it off.

"Damn, that sounds horrible out of context,"

Mirio shrugged, "I mean, I can see why you could think that. Especially if this is normal for you,"

You rolled your eyes, "I shouldn't get mad about it,"

"I think you should," He pocketed his phone and tipped your face up with a finger to your chin, "Today is about you, after all,"

You folded your arms as you tried to think of a way to word it all. Mirio had essentially become your personal diary through school. It was pretty easy to think about why you were so angry. It was the same reason why you went back to school in the first place. Because you were tired of being overlooked. Nothing you did earned you any praise. You practically begged to be regarded as a success with every single goal you achieved. And nothing was good enough.

"...And I'm just left feeling so fucking jealous of everyone who does better than me. Not because they have what I want, but because they always get recognized for it. They get to hear how proud people are of them and I swear if I could figure out what to do to get that I'd never stop. And here I am with a fucking degree and no one fucking cares,"

Mirio squeezed your shoulder as you caught your breath. You scoffed.

"You know what really pisses me off? I could have stayed at your agency if I knew that this still wasn't gonna work,"

"You would have stayed?"

"Yeah, especially after that first time we met... I almost took back my resignation cause you actually seemed to care. I'm surprised you even stuck around all through school. I'm sure I was just a stick in the mud the whole time,"

Mirio shook his head, "I think you're mispronouncing "determined". But continue,"

You narrowed your eyes at his quip. You gripped the collar of his dress shirt and pulled him into you. Mirio's eyes flew open as you kissed him out of the blue. You pulled away with a smile. It seemed you weren't done making requests. And, quite frankly, he wasn't going to stop pampering you. He placed his hands on either side of your face and pressed his lips into yours. He backed you up into a wall. You wrapped your arms behind his neck.

"Can we continue?" he asked. You nodded furiously. "Can I call you baby?" You nodded again, offering a tiny please on top.

Mirio unzipped you robe, removed your clothes and underwear. He smoothed his hands over your skin, taking in the sight of your body. He pressed your front against the wall after he got his fill, removing his clothes behind you.

"No fair. Why can't I see you?" you whined.

He smoothed his hands over your backside, "Because, you don't need anything distracting you from how this is gonna feel. Besides, if you wanna see me in the future, we can definitely make that possible."

The warmth of his chest slowly departed as he go to his knees behind you. He parted your cheeks with his thumbs. A low groan rumbled from his throat as he gazed at your nethers. He kissed his way from your anus down to your most sensitive areas. You whimpered and gripped the wall. His lips teased at your entrance.

"You did such a good job, you know," he moaned.

You stiffened up, barely taking in his words before his mouth descended in full. He gripped one of you cheeks, keeping you nice and exposed to him. Your knees quivered as you listened to the mess he was making of you. It was getting hard to dissect what he was saying. You just knew that his words felt good. You didn't want him to stop. As your eyes began to lose focus, you felt his thumb at your anus.

"Mirio!" you squeeked.

He chuckled, "Don't worry. I just needed your attention. Do you want me?" He got to his feet, and unbuckled his trousers with a snap. You nodded. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder, "Then push back. On to me. Just like that,"

You did as he said, a little shocked that his dick was right behind you. You split yourself open on his length. He helped you out at the very end, making sure you were filled with all of him.

After you had gotten used to him, you gave him the okay to start moving.

"No no, baby. I need you to take what you want," He joined hands with yours against the wall. His hips kissed your ass as he remained stationary behind you. You planted your feet and rocked your hips until you found a speed that made your jaw drop. Luckily, his height set him at the perfect angle to hit you right where you needed him. One of his hands left yours to play with you outside. You cried out. You dropped your head between your arms. You couldn't tell if you were chasing his hand or his dick anymore. You couldn't take it anymore. You needed him to move.

"Mirio. Please. I'm so f-fucking close. Just a little- Ah!"

His hips snapped forward before you could fully get out your request. He kept your pace, adding more pent up force to drive you into madness. You cried out his name back to back until your knees shook and you shivered uncontrollably. Mirio wrapped his forearm under your tummy, inadvertently sending more pressure through your loins and adding to your orgasm. He slowed his pace, teasing out whimpers of sensitivity. You tapped his hand in a feeble attempt to tell him that it was enough.

After a mandatory shower (He was adamant to wash you down) you two curled up on his couch: you in his lap, and Mirio holding you to his chest.

"Question," you piped up.

"Answer," he answered.

"Why...when we first talked and I handed in my resignation, why did you say you were proud of me?"

Mirio sank deeper into the couch. He rested his finger beneath your chin, bringing your gaze to his, "Because I was proud of you."

"Yeah but like, what did I do?" you pressed.

He shook his head, "It's nothing you can do that makes me proud. It's simply you doing things that makes me proud. Anything between simply breathing to coming back to my agency,"

You blinked, "Wait I never said I was coming ba-"

He cut you off with a kiss, "Not yet."

#melanatedkink #mha #mirio x reader #mirio x y/n #smut #mirio smut #mirio togata #mha mirio #man this was an odyssey

10 notes · View notes

anonymousoneshots · 2 years ago

Text

Carnival

Jey Uso x Reader

Rating: 18+ NSFW

Warnings: Public Sex, Fingering

A/N: I know, this is being posted so much later than promised. It’s my first time writing for Jey and I admit to struggling. As always, feedback is encouraged. xx

“One more, you’ve got this.” You’re standing behind Jey with your hands in a prayer formation in front of your lips. One more shot and he’s got this thing in the bag.

“C’mon, now. Don’t let my girl down,” Jey whispers to the basketball in his hands. One.. Two.. Three..! The basketball leaves Jey’s fingertips and soars through the air in slow motion. Boom! The winning buzzer sounds and the carny looks displeased.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Jey exclaims as you jump up and throw your arms around his shoulders, your laughter filling the air. Jey reaches back to hold you up, his hands under your thighs and your arms around his neck in a piggy back. The carny looks at you both impatiently and asks what you want in a disgruntled tone.

“Whatchu want, baby girl?” Jey asks, as your eyes scan the large array of stuffed animals of various sizes.

“That one,” you nod your head to the right. “The baby octopus.”

“What? The baby octopus? You don’t want one of the big ones?”

“He’s cute. Just like you,” you say, nuzzling your chin into his shoulder. The carny grabs the animal you requested from behind the counter and hands it to you. Jey drops you from his back playfully.

“All that work for a damn baby octopus,” he says. You giggle and smile, nudging his arm with your shoulder lightheartedly as you continue down the midway, toying with the animal he’d won for you. He looks over and smiles back at you, those dark eyes of his swimming in the glow from the sunset. With the sun setting, all of the rides and game tents begin to light up, and just ahead of you the Ferris wheel dazzles with it’s colorful dancing lights.

“The Ferris wheel! Let’s ride it,” you say excitedly. Jey gives you a look that questions your seriousness.

“It’s romantic,” you purr, taking his hand and dragging him towards it.

Once you’re seated in a car, Jey puts his arm around you and pulls you close. You rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat as the ride begins to move. As the wheel turns and your car gets higher and higher, the sounds of the carnival fade and a cool wind surrounds you. It’s quiet and comfortable up in the sky, safe and sound in your boyfriend’s arms.

Suddenly, you hear a creaking sound that crescendos to a loud pop, and the ride stops moving. You lift your head and glance at Jey with a concerned look.

“Well, shit,” he says, peering over the side of the car. Your at the peak of the Ferris wheel, the car lighting swinging back and forth with the wind.

“What happened?” You turn towards him and try to peer over the car as well, squinting at the group of workers surrounding the panel to the ride.

“I think we’re stuck up here,” Jey says. He doesn’t seem worried, but you’re a bit nervous. Jey notices the worry in your eyes and softly places his hand under your chin, titling your head up to meet his gaze.

“Don’t worry, baby girl, I got you,” he says reassuringly. The lights are flashing in patterns all around you, reflecting in your eyes, making them iridescent. Jey’s looking at you with wonder, like you’re made of starlight. He leans forward and places a gentle, calming kiss on your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as your nerves settle. He pulls back and studies your face, the small parting of your lips and your delicate eyelids, and the slight reddening of your nose from the chill in the air. You let out a soft exhale and slowly open your eyes, smiling as you realize he’s studying you.

“What?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“I’m so lucky,” he says, as he leans forward again to kiss you once more. You place one hand on his chest and the other gently on the side of his neck, pulling him closer. He has his hands on your hips, gripping them tighter as the kiss deepens. Your nails softly graze his neck where your hand is resting, eliciting a guttural moan from him. You feel a familiar pull in your core, wanting more of him. You part your lips, inviting his tongue to explore your mouth. He grabs you suddenly, pulling and lifting you so you’re now straddling his waist.

“Jey, what are you doing?” You gasp and giggle into his lips that have barely detached themselves from yours. He pulls away and looks at you with a dazed expression.

“Passing the time,” he replies in a cocky tone, a daring smile tugging at his lips. You glance over his shoulder towards the ground where more workers are now surrounding the panel before meeting his smile with your own playful one, ready to make your own fun. You grab his face in your hands and begin kissing him again, running your hand back through his hair. You slowly begin grinding your hips into his, your skirt riding up to your hips, the hardening of his dick rewarding you and encouraging you to grind harder.

He slides his hands up your shirt, the contact of his hands with your skin sending a wave of pleasure down your spine. You let out a soft gasp, tugging at his hair and pressing your lips into his feverishly. The car your in is rocking with your movements now, making the chains and blots whine. You pull away from Jey and look up to where your car connects to the wheel.

“Maybe we should stop,” you say breathlessly, glancing at Jey with concern in your eyes. With your movements halted, the rocking of the cars slows.

“Nah, [y/n], we just gotta do things a little different,” he places a quick reassuring kiss on your lips before sliding you off of him and back onto the bench beside him. You move to readjust your skirt and pull it back into position on your thighs, but Jey’s hand stops you.

“Spread your legs,” he commands. You give him a look of disbelief as he stares at you expectantly.

“Jey! Making out is one thing, I’m not-” the rest of your sentence is cut off as Jey presses a hand over your mouth and gives you a challenging look, daring you to question him.

“I’m gon’ say it one more time. Spread your legs.”

You’re breathing heavily through your nose, your heart racing. Wetness pools at your center at his command, the cool air hitting you in a teasing way as you slowly open your legs. He releases his hold on your mouth, allowing you to gulp in a breath of air. He slowly moves his right hand up your inner thigh, goosebumps forming as he gets closer and closer to where you ache for him. He’s sitting angled toward you, watching your growing look of anticipation smugly.

“What were you saying, baby girl? You want me to stop?” His hand is no longer inching towards your core, as he stops a third of the way up your thigh and brings his hand to rest on top. He looks into your eyes expectantly, waiting for you to give him the green light to please you. The hammering of your heart echos in your ears and makes Jey’s voice sound distant.

“I don’t want you to stop. Touch me,” you ask him, pleading with your eyes. He smirks and slides his hand back to the inside of your thigh. His fingertips graze the fabric of your panties. You shudder and shift closer to him, craving his fingers inside you. Jey leans closer to you and whispers sweet nothings about how aroused you are, his voice as smooth as silk, causing another wave of warmth to wash over you. He takes a finger and moves your now soaked garment to the side, swiping his index finger down your slit. A moan escapes your lips at the contact.

Jey’s gaze darkens at the sound as he continues to slide his finger up and down, your mouth dropping open further with each motion. More small moans are dying in your throat, threatening to break the silence with each stoke. Your clit is tender, and your legs twitch each time Jey’s fingers graze the bundle of nerves. He adds a second finger, spreading your lips as he goes up and down, the cool air caressing your folds and making you shudder.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” He murmurs, his breath hot and husky in your ear. He pushes his two fingers inside you, and you answer with a moan. He curls his fingers and pumps fast, hitting the prefect spot. Your muscles tense as lights dot your vision, pleasurable moans falling out of your mouth. Jey takes his free hand and covers your mouth, stifling your pornographic sounds. He doesn’t let up until your back arches off the seat, your eyes rolling back and your walls clenching around his fingers. He watches you ride your orgasm with a satisfied smirk plastered on his face. He slowly slides his fingers out of you as you begin to relax and slump back onto the bench, spent. Your eyes flutter open in time to see him suck your orgasm off his fingers, not taking his eyes off yours.

“God, thats hot,” you remark, straightening up and biting your lip. You lean forward and reach for Jey’s member straining against the fabric of his pants, but he grabs your wrist and kisses your hand instead.

“Don’t worry about me, [y/n], relax,” he says softly, returning your hand to your lap and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You settle in comfortably and let your body meld into his side. Letting yourself go under the stars high up in the open air was something you wouldn’t soon forget. You mind is hazy as you snuggle closer to Jey.

“I love you,” you mumble as exhaustion takes over you.

“I love you too, baby girl.”

#jey uso x reader #reader insert #wwe x reader #fanfiction #one shot #fan fiction #fanfic #smut #wwe one shot #jey uso #x y/n

256 notes · View notes

notoriousbeb · 8 months ago

Text

Lighthouse Keeper Tweets

Part Three: February 2024 - July 2, 2024

Back to Part One Back to Part Two

Feb. 5, 2024 (barely) 12 a.m.

"'I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love.'"

Now THIS is interesting. First, this is a Jane Austen quote (from Mr. Darcy of Pride and Prejudice [see 11/28 tweet, as well]). In the book, Darcy goes on to say, "Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away." What Darcy is saying here is that he formerly thought pretty words and declarations were enough to sustain a relationship, but he now knows that's not enough. The underlying bond has to be strong first, or it's all for naught. Interesting. Because, my second point about this post is: this is the date of the Grammy's, and the date Taylor announced The Tortured Poets Department.

Feb. 16, 2024 1:30 a.m. BST

"You don't mess with love, you mess with the truth."

These are lyrics from Ellie Goulding's "On My Mind." Someone can't stop thinking about someone!

Feb. 18, 2024 10:45 p.m. BST

"The dirt on my jeans from the mud on the Heath feels like karma to me"

Perhaps someone is starting to realize he fucked up.

Feb. 23, 2024 4:50 p.m. BST "A tangle on the television and the magazine."

These are lyrics from The Arctic Monkey's Teddy Picker. Perhaps, and this is just a guess by me, obviously, but maybe a shot at TK, who was riding around in a rented sportscar, speeding and blowing red lights in Australia while following Taylor on tour?

Feb. 26, 2024 12 a.m. BST

"I've let love be free, and I've let it go. I've let it fade and I've watched it blow."

Sad.

March 20, 2024 5:35 p.m.

"You go back, Jack, do it again, wheel turnin' ' round and 'round"

These are lyrics from Steely Dan's "Do It Again."

March 22, 2024 1:41 a.m.

"One to remember A spill to reflect on High in your bedroom Will you still remember?"

He mentions in his replies that he's "feeling creatively inspired by the people [he's] surrounded with." Perhaps in the studio? A little poem for someone. Reminds me of the "you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate," line from TTPD song. So, maybe, yeah, she did remember. Gah, these two exhaust me.

March 28, 2024 1:10 a.m. "If you're gonna try and walk on water make sure you wear you comfortable shoes."

These are lyrics from The Arctic Monkey's " Piledriver Waltz. Could be nothing, but it could also be a few things.... Anxiety about the impending TTPD release (thinking about the line "you're gonna shoot me out of a cannon" here). Pics of TK and TS at Nobu that had just popped up where TS looked annoyed as hell. Also there were all those pics of them from their beach vacation. Also, a few minutes before, he'd posted something about the stars, and then deleted it and proceeded to gaslight everyone on his timeline who asked about it. smh.

April 5, 2024 12 a.m. BST

"Would you hear of an old-time sea-fight? Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars? List to the yarn, as my grandmother's father the sailor told it to me?"

This is a bit of the Walt Whitman poem "Song of Myself." Has the tell-tale moon and stars, of course. What is he fighting for, I wonder. And who will win?

April 8, 2024 10:35 p.m. BST

"I looked around then for a reason When there wasn't something more to blame it on But, if time makes a difference while we're gone Tell me now, and I won't be hanging on"

These are lyrics from The Eagles' "Train Leaves Here This Morning." Maybe feeling defeated? He's about to leave to go to Japan with TR. When someone mentions in replies that this isn't a happy song (it's not. it's about one of the band members going through a divorce), LK replies: "Or, you could see it as a gateway to happiness. Sometimes the path to joy needs some pruning, and leaving things behind." Then someone else replies, "This is how it has to be though, right?" And LK responds, "I mean... no? Nothing really has to be anything; new things wash up on the shore, seasons pass, gardens flourish and die. Life is ever fluctuating. But also, it's just a great Eagles song." That's some true blue Aquarius shit right there. LOL. Another tidbit from the replies, he likes "Idaho" and "Words" by Gregory Alan Isakov.

April 12, 2024 8:30 p.m. BST / 4:30 a.m. JST

"Take a second, take a minute, take a mile Run the routes, light it up, enjoy the highs"

Probably in Japan?

April 19, 2024 12:31 p.m. BST

"Certified member of The Tortured Poets Department now."

And so it begins, again. Comments in the replies that he's feeling "tortured and poetic." Says he can't pick a favorite track yet.

April 25, 2024 7 p.m. BST

"I won't sit here and wax poetic to try and untangle the way we've crossed each other's firing range"

Sure, Jan. In his replies, he says he's currently inspired by "my life, my fears, my loves, my losses, in no particular order." Also says his current favorite TTPD track, "Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus" "has [his] heart."

April 26, 2024 12:35 a.m. BST

"Love is no more Than the wide blossom which the wind assails, Than the great tide that treads the shifting shore, strewing fresh wreckage gathered in the gales"

Already wrote about this here. My dude here is IN IT. He sarcastically says he's feeling "dazzling," and when asked who he's dancing with he replies, "Myself, my closet skeletons, and my wandering mind!" Cool night, LK. Sounds like a blast!

April 29, 2024 10:55 p.m. BST

"I used your old toothbrush to clean out my keep cup I suppose that's the way things are right now"

A keep up. So, who's toothbrush we talking about here?

April 30, 2024 1:01 a.m. "What are our vices for today?"

I've already posted about how very, very well he's doing.

May 3, 2024 12:30 a.m. "When the garden leaves blow and you jump out your skin once the shock starts to go that's when solitude sets in"

Already posted about this one, too. Tayrry no more?

May 9, 2024 10:40 p.m. BST

"I should think most of my problems are solvable by feeling the sun's warmth and the sparkle of the stars."

He did pop up in a couple spots in London (a cab, dinner and the ballet) the next day with a nice tan! I'd hoped he'd been to Paris, but it was overcast and not very warm there. Maybe he was just laying out in the Heath taking it easy (and maybe texting someone??). In his replies, he seems in quite a good mood and talks about getting high to write. He also replies to a commenter who asked, "Are you watching TTPD livestream from Paris?" LK said, "I had hoped she would come to Eroda. Granted, it would be a lot more intimate than she's used to..." Cheeky, bugger.

May 17, 2024 3:25 p.m. BST

"Would you be angry? At the cruelty of history Fading away the stories we penned For slamming the dot at the end.

Here's how I interpret this: LK is asking the muse, would you be angry at history if it decided this was it for us? If this was where it decided our story ended? In his replies, LK also mentions he’s been doing some “embroidery.” This reminds me of the line in “loml,” “we embroidered the time of when I was away, stitching ‘we were just kids, babe.’” Perhaps LK is musing about memories today. He also says in response to the question “May I ask you what you would change about your past, what do you like about your present and what would you like get in your future?” “I guess there's not much point in thinking about changing the past, and I love the love I have right now, and in the future l'd like to keep that love.” In Haylor news, rumors are that Tayrry has split. Taylor is about to play night one in Stockholm after spending time with TK in Italy and Harry is unseen (rumor is he's out of London doing a photoshoot--perhaps for HS4, I hope!).

May 19, 2024

May 23, 2024

June 5, 2024

June 8, 2024

June 15, 2024

June 16, 2024

June 16, 2024 (2)

June 20, 2024

June 25, 2024

July 2, 2024

#haylor #lighthouse keeper #erodas lighthouse

20 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 11 months ago

Text

Superhero Wedding Special III: The Wedding of Wally West and Linda Park

Happy belated valentine's day all you happy people! And it's time once again for my favorite tradition on this blog: the superhero wedding special.

For those just joining us I love a good wedding "episode", wether it be a good tv wedding like Adventure Time or Community, a good wedding movie like Father of the Bride or a good old fashiond superhero wedding. And since there are both so many comic book weddings and so many I haven't covered, for the past three years i've let my patreons each pick one, picked one myself, then put all four in a poll for you fine folks to choose from. First year was a tie between Rogue and Gambit's stolen wedding and Aunt Man and Doc Ock's near marriage that ended in a nuclear explosion off the coast of Canada, and last year Hulking and Wiccan had a quick wedding via mid crossover flashback among friends, then had another celebration for the whole superhero community post crossover.

Both races were tight: one was a tie and last years eeked out a win against the Batman/Catwoman wedding fiasco. So this year was a bit diffrent. Not only did I use Tumblr's minty fresh new poll system.. but the results.. weren't even remotely close.

Yeah Wally and Linda won HALF of the 18 votes for this poll, beating out Emma's choice of Lex Luthor's Space wedding, Kev's roulette wheel choice of the recent Emma Frost Tony Stark Wedding, and Brotoman.exe's runner up Luke Cage and Jessica Jones. All good choices.. but it's clear what the people wanted. Ya'll REALLY love Wally West on here, love him even more with Linda and I wholeheartedly agree. While I didn't see this landslide coming, I'm pleased as punch it happened.

So before we introduce our couple, as is tradition let's track how we got to these nuptials.

Wally was in a weird place when he met Linda, both in and out of universe. In universe.. he'd been turned into a porcupine man somehow and was being hunted by Captain Cold during his stint as a bounty hunter.

Point is he met Linda as a newswoman. Out of universe Wally had a bit of a creative rough patch in the 80's. Wally started the 80's in one of the most influental and important books of the decade and one of it's best, The New Teen Titans. And he was easily.. the weakest member of the team.

See while his teamates were either fresh new characters Wolfman and Perez refined as they went (Starfire, Raven, Cyborg) or ones who had long since needed a new coat of paint and got a second act out of the deal (Dick Grayson, Donna Troy and Beast Boy), Wally.. was the odd man out. The team tried to make him the token conservative and a reluctant hero: one who knows he has a duty but is just.. tired of it and wants to retire. NOthing wrong with that, it can be a good angle. The problem is Wally spends the book either whining about not wanting to be a hero instead of just being honest with his friends, who have plenty of power without him, or declaring raven evil out of hand. And he does have a leg to stand on in not liking her, she made him love her. But instead of focusing on that he just assumes any time she looses control slightly she's evil now and stops carring about her because of something that, unlike the brainwashing thing, was entirely out oc her control. You can read more about all this here in this mammoth I did on the series.

The takeaway is that Wally sucked. Then Crisis on Infinite Earths Happened and Barry died heroically sacrifcing himself. Wally swore at the end of that series he wouldn't become the flash... but one year later with the next crossover Legends he did.

So Wally got his own brand new solo written by Mike Baron who reworked Wally's character.. and somehow made him MORE insufferable, making him into an egotisticla impulsive ladies man who cheated on his girlfriend, let his mother walk all over his new girlfriend, a married woman he was having an affair with. He also was a giant dick to Chunk, a neurotypical genius with black hole powers and planned to exploit him. He also won the lottery, a thing that sure did happen and sure was necessary and not a cheap gimmick no one asked for yes sir.

THe baron run.. was a mess. With Wolfman and perez I can at least see what they were going for and tha tit simply failed. Here I don't know what the fuck Baron was thinking.

Thankfully soon after William Messner Loebs took over, and while i've only read a smidgen of his run and wish more was collected, it's an instant improvment: Wally looses his fortune and becomes more of a relatable every man, the "you could have a beer with him" sort whose just at home at a hockey game as he is fighting snake themed terrorists.

So with Wally's new personality came a stable love intrest in Linda. Linda was just what Wally needed: someone who saw through all his bullshit, that all the swaggering and screwing around was compensating for the mountain of issues he refused ot work through.

Linda ended up seeing enough of Wally's good nature to start dating him casually, which lasted into the Mark Waid run, where the two were truly fleshed out as a couple.. and which i've read a solid chunk of. Mark Waid is seen as the man who truly made wally the flash and it's hard to argue that as Wally grew as a person bit by bit over the run. He was still impulsive, down to earth and quippy as fuck, but the overcompensation, horn doggery and assholishness were gone. He also gave wally his full backstory, and helped him finally get over comparisons to barry, making his speed limit that internalized imposter syndrome I mentiond: he was scared of replacing Barry.. but more scared of letting THIS BASTARD DO IT.... god I gotta cover the Return of Bary Allen sometime.

So through all this growth for Wally, he and linda grew as a couple: When Linda asked just how serious they were Wally balked, then got caught up on a flash thing... before speeding his way on a train to ask her to stay. The two have great chemistry: Linda likes Wally's fun nature, down to earth stylez and the fact he dosen't treat her like she's made of glass.. most of the time (Some incidents shook him up a bit), while Wally loves her no nonsense atittude, the only thing that often cuts thorugh his bullshit when he hyperfixates on his latest problem. She's his rock, he's her roll, and they need that ballance. She keeps him grounded.. and not just in the speed force, as discovering it nearly caused wally to loose himself.. but her love anchored him back.

So their marriage was inevitible and while I coudln't find the proposal issue, it's no suprise it happened: the two loved each other deeply and there's a reason they got so much love in this poll, and it's nice the two are back solidly as a couple with no signs of more ediotial fuckery making one of them not exist or forget the other or whatever.

So with that we're at the wedding. It came towards the end of Mark waid's run, right before Geoff Johns also super special awesome run, with Johns getting to define their married life more. It also begins a bit of a weird arc i'll talk about when we get to the end of the issue btu for now it's a blessed day for a blessed couple under the cut.

Since the wedding itself is supervillain free, we open with a big action set piece. Said set piece is excellent: Waid really knows how to write a flash story and sneakily choose villians who were key to Wally and Linda's history: Kobra

I had to and Mark waid had to know what he was doing introdcuing a snake themed terroist group. Kobra is a cult/terriorst group ran by Kobra with a K. They nearly destroyed Keystone City during the Terminal Velocity arc, with Wally forced to go as fast as he possibly could to save Linda, nearly loosing himself in the process. This is where the anchor thing happened. What I really like is the story.. dosen't bring this up. He just mentions he's "tussled with them" before, so newer readers don't have to get an info dump, but people who've been reading a while get the continuity nod.

It's a fun opener too as Wally zooms around, interogates a guy by shaking him real hard, and finds out Kobra's hiding at Broome Plaza, a nice nod to Wally co-creator John Broome. Kobra can teleport so he nopes out, but wally uses a neat trick: since he's faster than sound, he can catch up to what their saying.. and thus evacuate city hall before their bomb goes off. Said attack annoys wally a little but he's able to catch his marriage certificate. It's a good cold open that gives us some flash action.. and allows the rest of the issue to just be a simple plain clothes wedding.

Granted no wedding is simple and Wally reacts to hearing the cake may be off.. is to kidnap a chef from paris.

I.. I want to know how Wally knows this guy, and why he can just kidnap Pierre at a moment's notice. Did he kindap a random chef or do they have a history? Who was he fighting in paris? he WAS part of Justice League Europe for quite some time so it's plausable but dammit I want this story told Mark.

Linda rather than overreacting.. is greatful she has a soon to be husband whose so kind and considerate he'd run al lthe way to paris to kidnap her a baker. The two get down on the floor but before they can get doooowwnwnnn on the floor Linda's parents walk in. Thankfully their quickly distracted though Wally notices something's off: while Linda's had nothing resembling cold feet she freezes up a bit when Wally brushes off his parents, not even having checked if their coming. As you'll soon se he has every reason not to give a shit.

What he does give a shit about is Linda making Bart, aka impulse the ring bearer. Impulse was Wally's equilvent to kid flash and eventually his kid flash, before Wally became Wally's kid flash more recently. That wasn't a typo, there are two of them, it's not important to any of this.

For those less familiar with my boy, Bart is a hyperactive mess, having been raised in virtual reality simulation in the future and thus having trouble slowing down, not helped by being a speedster whose all but said to have ADHD. Wally's relationship with bart's a contrast to Barry's with him: While Barry was a fair mentor and the father Wally needed, Wally.. simply dosen't have the patience to actually train his young ward. Wally and Bart are too much alike, both impulsive, both running a mile a minute, and thus Bart was trained instead by Wally's own secondary mentor Max Mecury, a golden age speedster who has nothing BUT patience and when Max went into comic limbo, the almost as patent first flash Jay Garrick took the reigns. It's a detail I like as it not only set up Bart's own series well but makes sense: Wally can help Bart in small doses and dosen't abandon him, but simply can't handle the kid. It's telling that noawadays while he's taken a roll in mentoring his cousin, Wallace is both way calmer and Wally's matured enough from being a parent to actually handle being a mentor.

Thankfully Linda has patience for both of them and takes care of bart in a really clever way

Sadly the good times can't last and Wally's parents arrive and we see WHY he was so aphrensive about them showing up.

Yeah besides the .. questionable gifts, Waid does a godo job showing WHY he dosen't like them without getting into their histories: Wally's dad gives him a cheap gift and brings a date younger than his own son, and Wally's Mom's every action towards him is some veiled crticisim. Their awful and waid has never sugacoated that, and their constant baggering may explain New Teen Titans era wally in canon: Wally was less himself at the time because he was BADLY trying to be what they wanted and once he got the freedom of being the flash, he snapped back into being who he truly was.

Wally gets them to go away by playing "LOOK A RELATIVE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THEIR INHERTIANCE" and linda tenses up again, not getting at WHY she keeps doing that. Wally is quickly distracted by this hair crime

Oh all the ways i'm going to have fun with this. Okay for starters Dick, your the son of the world's greatest detective. Bruce has taught you better wig game than that and you damn well know it. 80's metal hair is not Nightwing level disguise work Richard.

Second... how is the "Theodore Logan" look less conspcious than the adopted son of a millionare being friends with a public figure?

Third: All this is going to do is have papparzi asking "Whose Wally West's Best Man?". Does Dick have a cover identity all set up for this or did he only think of this plan the 5 minutes it took to buy a "babies first winger costume" wig.

Fourth: right after the rest of the titans show up, and Donna herself is a public figure, having taken pictures of starfire and being a high profile fashion photographer, Roy himself is ward of a billionare and Garth has no secret identity. how is "bruce wayne's son" any less conspcious.

And fifth WHY of all the wigs did he choose a perm that resembles their teammate jericho they watched get stabbed in front of them not a year ago probably in universe. Maybe two.

To my shock by the end Joey was apparently fronting whitesnake so what the hell dick. Why remind all your many friends present "oh yeah remember our friend who got stabbed in the chest in front of us".

So the rest of the titans arrive and somehow don't razz Dick for this hair crime, though even through that perm dick can sense somethin'gs off with linda. We get mor ehints why as Wally dosen't intorduce the titans to his family: Linda was the one to invite them and while he's glad they came he's not really.. close to any of them. The people he is make a bit more of an intrance, as the JLA arrive, with Superman worried about paparazzi. I mean dick will never live down that perm if they see it.

Wally kept the location on the DL.. which won't really stop paparazzi , even 90's paparazzi, and just makes Dick's hair somehow more rediculous. Any more and it'll become a force unto itself.

Thankfully more of Wally's REAL family shows up: Iris. for those wondering why this is a big deal at the time Iris was living in the future: she's from the 30th century, it's a long story, point is she stayed there after Barry's death both to raise her kids and to avoid spoiling the future. Ironically she'd come back full time during the next run as the future changed enough she had no idea what to expect, but for now Wally's worried she'll give her dad a heart attack.. only for her to explain she already went and saw her dad and explained stuff. Family is important.

This finally snaps Linda's bugging into focus for Wally: family. Wally's been icing his out and THAT'S what linda keeps being nervous about. So , not supposed to see the bride be dammned, he goes to iron this out in a beautiful scene that both explains WHY he's like this to his family, something we've clearly seen, and why Linda's in no danger

IT's really well done, and I like that Wally acknowledges his extended family.. did nothing wrong. He was just so determined to keep his parents away he accidently kept them away too and geninely wants to work on it. I don't think he DOES, but the comic both changes gears then changes writers after this, and I can't blame Geoff for not following up on this. He was never scared of her.. he just has bad parents.

I also like that the comic has the aseop that it's ENTIRELY okay Wally wants to push his parents away and wants nothing to do with them. There are far too many bits of media that ar elike "Oh your birth family is important, you shouldn't pusht hem away. Your parents mean something".. but forget that sometimes parents are abusive shit stains. I was lucky to get a wonderful mom and a dad I can at least talk to, but not everyone has a good relationship with their parents or wants to be around them. WE've seen how little they actually care about wally or his big day, and how much having them there throws him off. Yet we've also subtly seen.. wally HAS family. He's found family with the titans, with the League. You don't need blood to be a family. You just need love, to respect one another and to be there.. and Wally and LInda have that.

So it's time for the ceremony with the wedding party apparently only consisting of Beavis, Jesse Quick (Close ally of Wally's and fellow speedster) and Bart. It's then Wally realizes something and handles it like the responsible about to be married man he is.

Yeah the fastest man alive, who was hovering over his wife as she planned this ceremony... forgot his vows. it's so wally it hurts and i'm here for it. Thankfully he's the fastest man alive and after thinking back on their history, the good, the bad, and how she's always made him feel... he simply says his vows from the gut, which really is again the most wally west thing imaginable and i'm still here for it.

It's a beautiful speech that sums up their relationship, what they mean..and is also something Wally REALLY shoudl've thought through. You'd think after a decade as a superhero, at least he'd know not to tempt fate as suddenly.. Linda dosen't exisit. Wally finds something with her name, asks dick about it, Dick assumes wally horny Richard, and Dick dosen't even question the haunted wig in his apartment. Linda is trapped and yeah that's how the issue ends.

Yeah, the big milestone wedding.. ends with a fucking kidnapping and leads into an arc I haven't gotten to. And look i'll do a LOT for reasearch, I just covered 20 some issues of Transformers Robots in Disguise so I could cover the crossover with More than Meets the Eye next month, entirely so i'd do it right.. but even i'm not so through that i'd read 18 issues of the flash in an arc i'm eh about reading some day but will probably get to complete the mark waid run for a one and a half issue review.

So the short version of what you missed: Wally disappeared into time and space without LInda to anchor him. Replacing him was Wallace West, an angsty wally from another timeline who replaced him for a while, a storyline I mostly know about because it leaked into JLA for a bit, with Wally revealing his identity to a few people to get their trust. Wallace was the darker and edgier flash no one asked for, fought crime, fell in love... and then Wally came back and rescued LInda, who it turned out had been kidnapped by his old nemisis Abra Kadabra, a magician from the 60th century who as you can tell by how elaborate and dickish this plot is, has a flair for both trying to ruin wally's life and the dramatic. Hilaroiusly, as I read, Wally gets him to undo it.. by pointing out no one knew what he did. So Wallace was supposed to go back and go back miserable because fuck him for wanting to be happy I guess. Can you kinda.. see why I have no real intrest in this storyline outside of Wally and LInda? Maybe pick that up?

So for expediency's sake and to give us a better ending we WILL be covering the flash #159.. but just the wally and linda parts as we don't really need Wallace's dramatic exit.

We do start on it though as the League demands he go home and can't take his girlfriend with him. He picked up a girlfriend it's a thing. Superman is being an uncharactristic super ass while Wally is being less than helpful.. albeit given Wallace DIN'T have his memories of Linda erased and could've been helping them, I can't say I blam ehim.

So once Wallace leaves to have one last good day, Bart, having the tact of a tornado on roller skates, asks when the wedding resumes. Wally decides right the fuck now and speeds into actoin to get everything: catering, her parents farmhouse ready again, the lisence.

Wally spends the day even more hyperactive than usual... which is somehow indeed possible. The superheroes around Linda assure her it's fine, with Donna being the only one to make sure things haven't changed. Linda still LOVES wally.. but she can see something's wrong. And unlike with her on the previous wedding day, Wally's FAR less subtle about it so I don't know why no one else is like "okay maybe we shoudl check on him.

We get to the wedding itself.. and Linda holds it, not wanting to Marry wally while he's having what's clearly a barely supressed emotoinal breakdown.

I love this because it really.. boils down their dynamic: Linda loves wally, who he is and dosen't doubt that for a second.. but she's also 9/10 the one who pulls his head out of his ass. Wally's a good guy, we've seen it here.. but he acts first asks later, and LInda's one the remind him that you have to slow down every once in a while and have a conversation. Also yeah, between Dick's wig and Clark's super pope hat he's bummed he didn't get to wear to this because you bastards didn't ask him to officiate, they've seen weirder.

Wally agrees, yeah that's it. He saw a version of himself who went down a dark path.. and really wasn't THAT diffrent. All it took was loosing linda, which is WHY Walter is an edgelord for the record. Linda.. isn't amused, especially since Wally implies part of this is to widen the gap between them. Wally's friends are.. less than sympathetic. Well okay Roy is. It's just roy actually, Max is worried and Jay knows they just need to work it out and will. But roy well..

That is both a perfect exchange for those two.. and entirely why Roy isn't invited to weddings that much. I only think he got into this one as Donna's +1.

Wally however.. assures her that's not the case and once again gets a fantastic speech in

It's a heartfelt speech and get's linda to just.. skip to the i dos, the two kiss and one of the most solid marriages in all of comcis begins. It's a beautiful speech.

As for the issues themselves.. their okay. Yeah for such a great couple and with so many great moments, the first issue feels a bit short, like we needed more time for the wedding and the whole stupid kidnapping plot means we get cheated out of a reception, which as we've seen from both Rogue and Gambit and Teddy and Billy's nuptial's, is often some of the best stuff, allowing a bunch of characters to bounce off each other. Instead since the circumstances are dire after the intital wedding and dire right before the makeup, with our heroes recovering for it, we don't really get to have FUN with this. There's good moments, but these weddings are a bit of a disapointment and I don't know what Mark Waid or Ediotiral was thinking with this. It's still JUST good enough to not be a complete waste of your time, I recommend at least 142, but it still coudl've been SO much better and it's a shame this is the first wedding for this feature I just. .haven't been that jazzed about. I wanted to like it. the art for the first issue does not help, being all kinds of rediuclous and giving us the enternal shame that is Dick Grayson's perm.

So where did Wally and LInda go from here? Well honestly.. marital bliss at first. As I said Geoff Johns run, a brilliant followup to what Mark Waid did that brought back the Rogues after Waid wrote them out and redefined Captain Cold, follows them as newlyweds: they deal with space, moving, and LInda going back to college for a subplot that ultimately goes nowhere outside of one kidnapping by a prince from another dimension. Story for another time.

The two were solid for the most part and even had an unexpected suprise: TWINS. The two were happy to start their family... but unfortuantely Wally's freshly minted new arch enemy Zoom undid the babies out of his warped thinking tragedy makes better heroes. Which it often does, but feels like a critqiue on piling on tragedy because "that's what sueprheroes are". Granted Geoff Johns isn't innocent of this, but it's still a good lesson.

Afterwards Hal Jordan wiped everyone's memories of wally's identity and after re learning it Linda disappeared before coming back, the babies were restored, and the two had a happy marriage again with kids till infinite crisis. Then wally was put through the SHIT for nigh on a decade until a recent return, a wonderful run you should check out by Jeremey Whitley and a sci fi run I haven't that sounds neat by by my Boy Simon Spurrier. The two aren't without conflict. .but they have a love and understanding that makes them get past it. Wally and Linda have a beautiful relationship and I can't wait to see them again on this blog some day.

For now thanks for reading.

#the flash #wally west #linda park #dick grayson #jay garrick #max mercury #wedding #valentine's day #superhero wedding #superhero #dc comics

20 notes · View notes