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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
10 | I know that's
❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | language, tension, flirting, mention of drugs & alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, taunting, etc.
❧ Word Count | 7.2k (phew.)
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
——Back in your room, you wasted no time calling Gojo back. That whole… thing with Choso is something you’ll save your worrying for another day. As of right now, Gojo should be your main focus since you have a Halloween party to attend with him tonight.
Laying stomach first across your surprisingly neatly made bed, your feet dance back and forth in the air as you hold your cellphone to your ear and listen to Gojo ramble to you about his day. He didn’t address the phone hanging up at all or the way he definitely heard Choso’s voice before the line disconnected earlier—he just got on the phone, asked if you were alright, and then when back to what he’d been telling you before.
Which brings a nice smile to your face. It’s refreshing to have someone like Gojo to talk to, honestly. Not only do you really enjoy conversing with him or listening to him talk but, you also like how he didn’t question you like crazy. That simple act alone took some weight off of your shoulders because it meant you didn’t have to lie again. God knows you hate lying to the guy.
But you’re not gonna tell him the truth either because the truth is terrible. How do you even being to explain to your crush that you almost fucked your best friend again in the short amount of time you were off of the phone with him?
“So,” Gojo continues, clearing his throat a bit between words. “Aside from tonight’s party, you don’t have any plans for today, right?”
Your head tilts further against the phone as you release a gentle sigh, “To my knowledge, no I don’t have any other plans. Why?”
He yawns softly, “Because, that gives us enough time to go last-minute costume shopping, remember?”
Chuckling into the phone, your lips curve into a smile. “Don’t you have work?” You ask.
You can’t see it of course but, Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “I mean, yeah… But I’m sure my boss won’t mind if I close up a bit early. It’s Halloween.”
“If you say so,” You comment. “I’m assuming you want me to meet you at the cafe in a few hours then?”
“Yup,” Gojo hums with a sassy lil pop of the ‘p’ at the end there. “Til’ then, I’ll have to drown myself in work. My break’s about to be over.”
You click your tongue and frown a bit, “Aw, well hopefully time flies by fast.”
“Yeah, hopefully.”
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Once off of the phone with Gojo, you spend your day holing yourself up in your bedroom in an honest attempt of avoiding Choso. Luckily for you, at no point did he come knocking on your door trying to gain a bit of your attention. This provided you with a rather relaxing morning and afternoon of bedrotting.
Not the most productive thing to do but, hey, at least time flew by pretty fast. After lazying around for hours waiting for the right time, you ended up rolling out of bed and throwing on something cozy to go out in—you’d be changing into a costume in an hour so there was no point in dressing up too cute or anything.
You end up exiting you apartment wearing something easy to get in and out of so that when you do find your costume, and in the event that it later gets uncomfortable, you have something else to throw back on.
Taking a walk all the way throughout your campus just to reach that cute lil’ cafe you’ve grown to love and adore, you felt the season of fall brushing all against your skin as you walked. It’s as if that hectic morning of yours never even took place with how peaceful this part of your day was. For just a moment, it was only you and your thoughts. No horny Choso humping against you like a dog in heat, no anxiety induced thoughts screaming at you everytime Gojo talks to you… just, tranquility.
And when you finally arrive at the designated coffeehouse you’ve been to time and time again, a smile is painted across your face before you even push past the front doors. The sun is making it’s set so the sky is all pretty with different hues of oranges and reds—something you took a few pictures of on your way here.
Grabbing a hold of the warm metal door handles, you give it a light push and that homey smell of coffee rushes into your nose. A smell in which you’ve grown quite fond of given what follows shortly after…
No one is inside except for Gojo so the smile on your face merely brightens as you meet eyes with him. Almost like a damn puppy, his entire demeanor lightens up at your presence, pretty dimples peaking out in his cheeks as he reciprocates your happy expression.
You’re approaching the counter and he’s making his way around it, all too quick to embrace you by wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulling you in close. Gojo lets out a long sigh, “Been’ waiting all day to do this, y’know.” He tells you, voice muffled slightly with the way his face slowly barries itself into the crook of your neck.
You hug him back with the same amount of passion he’d approached you with and then smile. “Do what? Hug me?” Your voice is gentle against his ears and unbeknownst to you, his heart feels all weird in his chest. Then there’s these flutters your feel in your stomach at how good he smells and how stupidly clingy he seems to be today.
It’s this strange mix of coffee beans and his cologne that seeps into your nose now, making you hug him just a bit tighter to simmer into the scent some more. He smells like a hard working man and you simply love that for whatever reason. You suppose that thing people say about a man in uniform is true after all…
“Yeah,” Gojo soon answers your question whilst lifting his face from your neck and meeting your eyes again. His gaze stays put for barely even a second before he’s cracking a smirk and leaning in to kiss you.
A brief grin ghosts your lips as he kisses you. Your arms firmly wrap around his neck and you push up on your toes a bit to deepen the connection of your mouths. Gojo’s lips feel like comfort against your own, almost as if you were ice and he the sun—his every touch melting you in his hands. You let out a small hum in between the kiss as he slots his lips against yours further, steadily drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it.
His tongue dances against the plump skin for only a moment before he pries himself away and you both ease out a small breath of air. “And that,” Gojo says, “I swear you’re on my mind all day.”
Such a soft admission spoken to you so suddenly makes you gulp. “Am I now?” You whisper, noticing how he’s leaning back in for another kiss already.
Gojo wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah,” He utters back just as softly, skin brushing over yours, and eyes narrowing, “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.” Is the last thing he tells you before he’s ridding himself of all the space between you two again.
No one else is in the establishment, so you kiss for a hot minute. It’s soft at first, like always, but then it gradually heats up. His hands move to your waist and his head tilts further while his tongue makes its journey into the wet caverns of your mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste resting there, Gojo unconsciously steps forward with you. You naturally follow his lead and he ends up kissing you until your lower back meets the counter.
Not sparing you the chance to break the kiss, Gojo bends down a little and swiftly lifts you up onto the counter—his lips never once leaving yours. He feels starved as he makes out with you right in the middle of where he works. Hushing out a simple, “Taste s’sweet,” In between your lips.
You mutter his name somewhere throughout the kissing and one of your hands ends up on his chest, very faintly pushing him. As the kiss is severed, Gojo has this needy expression all over his face and his cheeks are reddened. He’s so pretty that it genuinely hurts to look at. It almost isn’t fair.
“Don’t we have some shopping to do?” You remind the man in a slightly breathless tone.
Gojo bats his lashes at you almost innocently. “Yeahh, but we have time, don’t we?” As the words roll off of his tongue, his lips are curving into that taunting little smile again, and then his dimples are making yet another appearance.
His hands, which are so stupidly soft, trace the outskirts of your thighs upon the counter. Those almost beryl-blue eyes of his scan over your face, taking in every inch and curve, studying you, and getting mesmerized by you. If you looked way too closely into it all, you’d almost asume the guy was in lo—
You clear your own throat to cut that thought off. “No, it’s Halloween, silly.” You remind him with a smile, glancing down to your hands on his chest and moving your fingertips to trace what you can feel beneath his clothes. “There’s barely gonna be costumes as is, the later we go, the less there’ll be.”
Gojo sighs while he thinks for a moment. His bottom lip protrudes as he pouts and you can’t help the way you chuckle at that. “S’not funny. I really did miss you,” He tells you again, tipping his head down into your neck and pressing his lips against your skin, “But you’re right, we probably should head out now.” He’s agreeing with you with his words but the way he’s planting these soft pecks against your neck is saying something else entirely.
His kisses tickle and you end up holding onto his shirt a bit and letting out a giggle, “Satoru,” You call out once, receiving no sign of him stopping his ticklish kisses. Then you squirm and he smiles against you. “‘Toru,” You say, to which his teeth graze you.
“Such a tease,” Gojo simmered into your skin hotly. “Callin’ me that nickname like you don’t know what it does t’me…”
Full on smiling now, you angle your head to look at him and he pulls away from your neck to meet that incoming gaze. His pupils seem to expand ever so slightly as they’re met with yours but, you may have imagined that. “It does something to you?” You ask innocently as you push forward to slide off of the counter, “I had no idea…!”
That cheery faux innocence in your tone makes Gojo’s smile expand before his eyes roll. He watches the way you step aside and straighten up your clothes before sending him one last glance. Something about you really keeps his mind at this mushy state because every time his eyes lock with yours it’s like he can’t form a single thought in his brain that doesn’t involve you.
Staring, letting a small moment of the eye contact pass by, Gojo scoffs softly. “Riight, sure you didn’t.” He replies to your last comment sarcastically.
After that brief conversation, which could’ve easily progressed into something more if you didn’t stop him, you assist Gojo in cleaning up the cafe so he can leave with you. All you had to do was wipe a few tables off and then you watched him sweep and mop. It seemed like not many people had come in today given the state of the kitchen and how clean it was (you’d picked up on how messy it gets when Gojo is swamped with customers a while back).
Small talk is held almost the entire time up until he finally closes up and walks you to his car. It’s then that silence is welcomed back into your space and even as you walk with him, you still feel this comforting air wrapping around you. Especially when Gojo throws an arm over your shoulder and soon opens his car door for you. He’s so strangely perfect that you can’t help the way you feel for him.
Even throughout the car ride to… the nearest costume shop? He plays a bunch of Halloween songs and throughout Micheal Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, you notice that even Gojo’s singing is perfect. Hence why by the time you two make it to your destination your cheeks hurt from how hard you’d been smiling and you can hardly remember the last time a guy, aside from Choso, has made you laugh this much.
The shop he takes you to is rather… pricey, you note as the two of you stroll through together. And yeah, most of the shelves are cleared off and whatever’s left isn’t anything super creative. Gojo guides you to the back of the store though and you swear he had this all planned out in his head with the way he leads you straight to a particularly cute couples costume.
“Y’know,” You start off, picking up the clearly designated costume that stands out in contrast to the other last-minute options left on the surrounding shelves. “If you wanted us to wear matching costumes, you could’ve jus’ said something.”
When you glance back to Gojo, you notice the way he’s got a hand scratching the back of his neck and is looking off to the side nonchalauntly. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sweets…” He hums, that faint pigment of pink coating his cheeks yet again.
You snort, “Really? So how is it that you’ve led me all the way back here and straight to the only decent costumes left in this store?” As you speak, you lift the two costume packages up and hold them out to showcase them to him. “Not to mention, they just so happen to be the only matching ones too.”
Gojo redirects his eyes to the items in your hand and he grins innocently. “This is a coincidence, really.” He chuckles, “I mean why would I—“ He stops himself mid-sentence at the look you’re giving him and just ends up sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine,” His hands went up, “Ya’ caught me.”
You smile, “Mhm, I know. Now, are you gonna go ahead ‘n ask me to match with you orr…?”
His shoulders sink a bit, “Do I have tooo? You’re already holding the costumes, are you really gonna make me ask—“
“Yep,” You hum in response with a mocking pop of the ‘p’.
Gojo scoffs playfully. “Fine.” He starts, stepping closer to you, “Do you wanna be the cowgirl to my cowboy and y’know, ride throughout this Halloween night with me?”
There’s half a beat of silence that passes after the cheesiness that just left his lips before you burst out laughing. “You’re so corny, oh my God.” You snicker out in an airy tone.
He joins your giggling with his own and then tips his head to the side, “So is that a yes orrrr…?”
Rolling your eyes, you nod. “Yeah, I’ll be the cowgirl to your cowboy tonight, Satoru.” Then you hand him his designated costume and brush past him.
Gojo clenches his fist and brings it down to himself in celebration, whispering a little, “Yess.” To himself childishly while you make your way to the nearby dressing room.
There were other last minute costumes that’d caught your eye on your way to the back of the store but, you think you’re pretty content with the cowgirl costume you end up putting on. Sure, you passed the classics like witches, cheerleaders, vampires, ghosts, etc… but this costume fits you so well that it’s almost as if it were made for you.
It fits your body almost like a leather glove but without being too uncomfortable or tight. It’s a top and bottom set—mostly consisting of black and an accenting hint of red here and there.
Once you get it on, your body is quickly flattered by the fabric. The top is long sleeved, cropped up high, and has a knot that ties right in the lower center of your chest with a vest that has these sparkly red stars on it. Then there’s the sorry excuse for shorts accompanying the top, that’s decorated with this semi-chunky belt with matching sparkly red stars. Lastly were the boots and hat, both black with hints of red, that completed the look.
And once you got a glance of yourself in the nearby mirror, you were gagged by how good you look. You spun around to get a full view of yourself, noticing the hug that the shorts have on your ass, shaping you perfectly. Hell, you almost never wanna take this damn thing off. And contrastingly enough, part of you is a bit self-conscious to actually go out like this.
It’s not until you take a deep breath and step out of the dressing room that your confidence returns to you with the wolf-whistle you recieve from Gojo. Your eyes had been somewhere on the floor until you heard the sound he let out, lifting your gaze to find him slouching back against some chair he managed to find and pull up. He’s got his legs all spread like some slut (not that you’d ever say this aloud, of course) and you don’t think there’s a single thought of innocence in your head as you take in the sight of him.
His costume is matching yours but, there’s a lot less skin showing, obviously. The shirt he has on is rolled up to his elbows and he’s got a teasing amount of his chest revealed—matching you with that low v-cut top you have, except his shirt is just a bunch of buttons undone.
His lower half is your typical pair of cowboy pants, all snug against his thighs, fabric straining over his muscles, and—
“Eyes up here sweets’,” Gojo says with a snap of his fingers. You flinch and revert your gaze to his face, gulping at the way he’d caught your gaze trailing elsewhere. “There she is,” He purrs, motioning with two fingers for you to walk toward him, “C’mere. Lemme get a better look at’cha.”
You almost awkwardly shuffle over to him, shyly covering your exposed midsection and trying to calm the pounding of your heart with each step you take. “Satoru, d-don’t you think this is a bit…” You hate how nervous you are right now, as if he hasn’t seen you with less clothes before.
Once you find yourself standing right in between his legs, he peers up at you with that ridiculously handsome smile of his. “A bit what?” Gojo hushes out as he reaches forward and moves your arms out the way to expose all of you to his greedy eyes. “I think you look perfect, like always.” He practically whispers, leaning forward and planting an all too affectionate kiss onto your stomach.
You flinch again and instinctively move your hand to his shoulder to push him back a bit, “Thank you but, I feel exposed.”
He acts as though you shoved him back, slumping into the chair like he was before and giving you this lovestruck expression as he meets your eyes. “S’okay,” Gojo tells you, “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people wearing a lot less tonight so, you’ll feel more comfortable once we’re there.”
You give him a little nod in response and he moves his hands to trace your hips, feeling the tight fabric of your shorts beneath his fingertips and taking a deep breath.
“And if not,” He moves to stand up and you’re reminded of the height difference between you two all over again. “I’ll give you my jacket or something, okay?”
Nodding again, you feel so safe beneath his gaze—almost like nothing else really matters when you’re around him.
Once that’s all been settled, you and Gojo leave the costume shop. You forget to question him about how the hell you two were able to leave without paying for anything but, the rest of the night takes over all those questions you love asking him so much.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Before you even know it, you’re pulling up to this huge house, distant thumping sounds of music and giggles heard throughout the air as Gojo parks his car not too far off. There’s vehicles placed all down the street, people all over the front yard, some just hanging out and others taking pictures or even making out.
It’s been a while since you last attended a party but, the sight of multiple skimpy outfits brings you a sense of comfort as soon as you step out of the car. The music from the house is so loud that you can’t even make out what song is playing right now due to the bass. Even so, Gojo quickly approaches your side and rightfully places his arm over your shoulder like he did earlier, keeping you nice and close to him while the two of you make way for the entrance.
The atmosphere is overly lively. You can hear and see people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, etc. The music vibrates off of the house walls as you and Gojo walk in, shuffling past hella people just to make it fully inside. The house-, mansion, really, is packed with semi-drunk college students and you’re quickly reminded why you don’t surround yourself with party goers almost every weekend like you used to.
There’s definitely heads turning as you and Gojo navigate through the crowd of people but, you can’t really tell if that’s because of him or you.
You would’ve loved to say that Gojo was the most attractive man there but… it’s really hard to say that when you’re quickly stopped by some tall polished blonde man wearing a priest costume. Ignoring the way Gojo’s got an arm around your shoulder entirely, this guy grins at you kindly and he’s got the prettiest honey brown eyes taking in all of you as he leans toward you to voice a compliment.
“Beautiful costume,” The man says to you simply. From where you and Gojo had made it to, the music wasn’t overwhelming and you could actually talk to someone without yelling or leaning in too close.
Naturally, you smile in thanks and give him a little nod. “Thank you, I like yours as well. You’re a priest, right—“
“Nanami!” Gojo beams beside you, unconsciously telling you the name of the blonde man you were seconds away from making casual conversation with. “The hell are you doin’ here?” He asks in a taunting tone.
Nanami’s face flicks into something tired at the mere sound of Gojo’s voice. “I should be asking you that, Gojo. You’re supposed to be at work right now.” He says sternly.
Gojo chuckles lightly, “Oh don’t be like that, boss.” He says, taking his arm from around you and moving to tap Nanami on his arm, “It’s Halloween!”
Nanami sighs. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s why I’m not upset or anything but, you could’ve sent a text. I’d like to be aware of whether or not my cafe’s closing early.”
It suddenly clicks for you that Nanami owns that beloved cafe you visit practically everyday—something which, getting a good look at his chiseled face, just fits him. Nanami is exactly what you imagined Gojo’s boss looking like, honestly. The only thing surprising you here is the fact that he’s around the same age.
You’re about to say something to insert yourself back into the conversation but you’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Oh my God, Satoru! You made it!!” Hori says overly cheerful.
By the time you turn your head to spot her, her arms are wrapping around Gojo’s waist and she’s hugging him tightly. Gojo hugs her back with one arm and forces a friendly smile onto his face.
“Hey Hori,” Gojo greets rather plainly. “Are you dressed as a… bunny?” He asks as he looks down at her within his grasp. You couldn’t really see her because of the way she was hugging Gojo but that didn’t bother you too much when Nanami steals your attention away with a light tap.
“I didn’t get your name,” He says to you, having leaned in a bit so that you could hear him clearly.
“Oh,” You chirp before extending a hand out and voicing your name to him. Nanami nods as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanami.” You greet officially.
He grins kindheartedly, “The pleasure is all mine, honestly.”
There’s a moment of prolonged handshaking before someone bumps into Nanami’s arm and your hands disconnect. You both look to see who it is and you’re met with this brown haired guy dressed as some kind of criminal (?). Tugging the skimask up off of his face, your eyes are greeted with a very contrasting face. He’s got these big doe-like eyes and his features scream innocence in a way.
“Woah, you’re pretty,” He chuckles, clearly tipsy off of whatever drink seems to be held in his left hand. “Y’Mind if I get your number?”
Your eyes go wide at his straightforwardness and all you do is smile at first. “Uh, I’m actually…” You slowly glance to where Gojo is, only to find that he’s been dragged elsewhere with Hori. You see his a peek of his snowy white hair amid the crowd and your shoulders slump a bit at how quickly he just left your side. Turning back to the brunette male, you nod, “Y’know what, yeah, sure.”
Nanami clears his throat and his phone is held out soon, “Me too actually,” He chimes in.
With that, you're entering your number into the two guy’s phones and then handing their devices back to them. The brunette soon informs you that his name is Ino and the three of you stand there making small talk for a bit.
It’s mildly concerning that Gojo just left you like that but you distract yourself with the two men talking to you at the moment.
After chatting with them for a bit, they eventually part ways with you and you navigate your way through the sea of party people alone. There’s not a single familiar face throughout the crowd and it’s not until you notice you’re getting stares from people that you start feeling self conscious again.
You thought that maybe if you made your way to the dance floor and vibed by yourself for a bit, you’d be fine. But, you don’t even make it that far because somewhere throughout your shuffling through people, someone grabs a light hold of your arm and pulls you out of the crowd.
You stumble into step to see who the hell decided to grab you like that. It wasn’t aggressive or anything but it was concerning since you’ve only seen unrecognizable people thus far.
“Finally a familiar face,” The sound of Utahime’s voice hits your ears and she’s turning to face you after pulling you far away enough to talk to you. “Y’know how long I was in that damn crowd looking for literally anyone I knew? I’m so glad I found you.” She says with a sigh.
Your chest feels light as you drink in her wearing a cheerleader costume. “I’m glad you found me too, I was walking around here for maybe ten minutes or so.” You explain.
She rolls her eyes, “I thought you came here with Gojo? Did that asshole ditch you?”
You’re quick to shake your head. “Nono, he didn’t ditch me! I think Hori pulled him off earlier and I was talking with these other guys so we just got separated. Any longer in that crowd and I would’ve called him.”
Utahime pauses for a second while she gathers your words. Then, her expression changes and she smiles at you. “Oh, okay. I was just making sure because Gojo can be a real dickhead sometimes.”
“Think so?” You end up asking. This was the first time you’d heard anything remotely negative about him so, of course your curiosity is piqued.
“Yeah.” She replies, clearly having no intention of going further into an explanation at the moment. Then, with a sigh, she allows her eyes to drop down along your figure. Utahime lets out a small up and her head tilts, “Anyway, you look good—love the costume.” She compliments, her tone light and almost flirtatious.
Though, you could totally be misinterpreting things. “Oh, thank you! I love yours too, it fits you nicely.” Your returned compliment makes her smile and she allows her arms to fold beneath her chest.
“Aww, thanks. I think I—“
“Utahime!!” And there she is again… Hori. Cutting off yet another conversation and spawning into the scene out of seemingly nowhere, dressed as Regina George’s sorry excuse of a bunny from Mean Girls 1 (which is fitting since she’s blonde as well), Hori’s all smiley and her cheeks are lightly flushed. “I was looking for you everywhere. Where’d you run off to?!” She huffs as her arms wrap around Utahime’s singular arm and her head comes to rest on her shoulder.
Utahime says something to respond but all words and sound practically dies out in your ears as a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a fluffy head of hair rests on your left shoulder. Flinching at the sudden contact, you don’t even get the chance to say anything before lips are grazing your ear and a familiar spread of warmth is brushing at your skin.
“Was lookin’ for ya’ everywhere, sweets.” Gojo hushes out into your ear. “God, you smell so good,” His voice lowers and the arms around your waist begin to shift along with his head. The tip of his nose is soon felt burying itself into the crook of your neck and he inhales sharply while his slender fingers smooth over the exposed skin of your waist.
Your body tenses up due to all the sudden touches but, a smile is sparking across your lips before you even realize it. “Thank you, Satoru. And, I was looking for you too… for like, ten minutes actually.” You inform him, earning a gruff little hum in response. “You invited me here ‘n then left me in less than five minutes…”
Gojo grimaces once the mentioning of his departure hits his ears. He sighs into your skin before pressing a small kiss at it, “M’sorry. First Hori pulled me away to find Suguru, and then some other people came pulling me along… I should’ve come back for ya’, my bad.”
You lean back against his touch a bit and your back becomes flush with his chest, “It’s okay, I’m glad you found me.”
“Yeahhh,” He sighs. For a second, you begin to wonder if he’s drunk with how sly his words seem to fall off of his tongue. “To make up for it though.. We could go—“
“Lemme guess, dance?” You cut off, recalling the last party you went to with him and how the same exact thing happened then. He really was a people magnet all around, huh?
Chuckling, Gojo gives your body a small tug and your ass is brought back toward his crotch. “You know it,” He says cheekily as he lifts his head from your neck and then drops his hands to your hips. It’s swift the way he spins you around to face him, your hands soon finding place on his chest and your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. After which, he allows his hands to sneak behind you and grab a nice handful of your ass within his palm.
Ultimately, you were left looking up at him all surprised and confused. Gojo is touchy, sure. He always has been but… he doesn’t normally touch you so intimately out in the open like this. It was different. Not that you minded it but, it left you to wonder who or what he wanted to showcase these touches off to…
His cheeks were similarly flushed to how Hori’s were when you last looked at her, again leading you to wonder if he’d dranken anything. “Satoru,” You call out gently, moving your hands to cup his cheek and lull his expression a bit closer to your own for better study. “Have you been drinking?”
Gojo’s eyes take a second to actually focus on you, which silently tells you all you need to know. “Juuuust a lil’, yeah.” He admits to you.
To which you frown, “You went off and drank without me too? Wowww.” Your voice is clearly dramatic but Gojo seems to pout anyway.
Leaning in to you, he rests his forehead against yours and his arms circulate your waist again as he hugs you properly. “I jus’ had like, one cup of somethin’.” Gojo explains, his voice softening whilst his lashes bat in an innocent manner.
You stare at him. “One cup and you’re tipsy already?” You say, releasing a soft fit of laughter.
Gojo scrunches up his face a bit and you feel like it’s just you and him in the room right now, despite sounds of people laughing and talking all loud surrounding the two of you. “Mhmm. I don’t drink too often ‘cause I can't really handle alcohol too well,” He explains to you with a slight clearing of his throat.
The distant sound of Tory Lanez’s ‘The Color Violet’ can be heard and it makes Gojo lift his head and glance back toward where most people are dancing and the music is at its loudest.
Your eyes remain up on the man, “Should I be worried?”
He looks at you again and smiles, his brows tweezing together. “What? No. I’ve been told I get clingy when I’m drunk but aside from that, I’ve never done anything… stupid, I guess.” You hum in acknowledgement and Gojo starts backing away, tugging you along with him before he motions toward the dance floor. “Now c’mon, I owe you a dance, don’t I?”
It takes you a second or two to allow your body to be pulled properly with him but after that, your hand ends up in his and he soon pulls you through the crowd of people.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
The music gradually gets louder and louder until it consumes the entirety of your senses. You could feel the vibrations of the bass within each step you took, the music blurred throughout your ears, and all the dancing and lingering smell of marijuana and alcohol truly gave you that party atmosphere you’d forgotten about over the years. Before you even realize it, Gojo’s got you somewhere lost amid groups and groups of people dancing, trailing you closest to him using the grasp he had on your hand until you were able to dance right with him.
In contrast to dancing at that gala with him, you feel a lot more at ease here (surprisingly). Instead of gentle sways and intimate slow dancing, it’s more of sensual rolling of bodies against one another and long lasting glances all up and down your body that make you feel warmer than you should be.
Gojo’s got his hands everywhere with little care as to who sees what. From your hips, following their structure and the way you sway them around and against him, to your waist, twirling you around so that your back is facing him one moment and then vice versa so he can gather all of your neon illuminated features.
His favorite bit of the dancing is very obviously when your back is facing him and you dance against him. It’s in the smooth rock of your hips against him that he gets lost in, eyes all casted downward on your lower half, watching the way you dance back against him. One moment he’s smiling and the next he’s genuinely dazed by you. Then again, it could’ve been the alcohol in his system that made all his senses feel heightened like that.
Gojo felt like he was high simply from dancing with you. So much so that at some point he had to ask you if he could go sit down for a bit because you were uh… causing a bit of stiffening to stir up in between his legs. Part of you wanted to tease him about how just a bit of grinding back on him had turned him on but, another part of you was ready to loosen up a bit and partake in some drinking of your own.
Nothing crazy of course but, you felt like you would be a little stiff in the crowd without Gojo by your side and if he wanted to go sit down but you wanted to continue dancing, you’d have to get some alcohol in you to lessen the tension in your body. As such, a small conversation between you and Gojo took place and he ended up pointing you toward the kitchen before letting you know he wouldn’t be too far off.
The house was huge but with the directions he gave you, you figured you’d be fine.
And honestly? You were fine navigating through people on your own this time. But just in case, Gojo did take it a step further and message you the same thing he’d told you (just in case you didn’t hear him perfectly enough over the music).
How considerate of him. You thought to yourself as you made your way down a hallway and toward the far off kitchen.
Upon entering the space, you spot a few people making their own drinks, smoking, or talking with a friend but ultimately it’s a lot more laid back in comparison to the dance floor you’d previously been on. This allows you a moment to breathe, exhaling softly as you make way for the first stack of red plastic cups you find.
As you find a decent space on the counter to prepare your stuff, you begin to replay the small events from this party in your head. Smiling, you realize how wonderful everything’s been going for you thus far. You met two guys who were really nice, one of whom seemed to be acquainted with Gojo, Utahime was really friendly with you, and then dancing with Gojo just felt… nice. It was almost like things had gone too good for you tonight. Well, safe for Hori repeatedly interrupting something for you and failing to even say hi to you.
It’s not like you were expecting her to but, it would’ve been nice. She was standing right in front of you. Twice.
But hey, maybe she didn’t even remember you and the small convo you had with her. After all, this is her party and she clearly knows a lot of people so there’s probably a million and one things occupying that brain of hers. Speaking of which, that small conversation you had with her reminds you… didn’t you invite—
“How much for a ride, princess?” Choso’s voice suddenly hits your ears and you practically flinch out of your skin.
Your elbow instinctively shoots back and you nudge him right in his stomach with a loud yelp, “Jesus-, fuck, Choso!” You spew out before clasping your hands over your mouth in response to the sound of surprise you’d let out. “Scared the hell outta’ me.”
He lets out a laugh in between some sort of cough, probably one provoked from your strike against him just now. Slowly, his coughing fades into a full on chuckle and you move your eyes to gather the sight of him behind you. He’s wearing red and black, his hair tied up into two messy pigtails using these red hair ties, and—holy shit. Choso’s dressed up as Garu from Pucca.
The realization makes you gasp dramatically as you turn around to face him fully. “Oh my God? Are you… Is that a Garu costume?!” You exclaim, moving your hands to his shirt and tugging him a bit close as you study the big red heart imprinted on the center of it.
Choso finally clears his throat and drops his eyes down to the way you’re pinching the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, “Uh, obviously?” He remarks sassily before lifting his gaze to your costume and cocking his head to the side. “And what are you supposed to be? A cowgirl?”
“Obviously,” You say mockingly. “Didn’t you just ask me how much for a ride like twenty seconds ago??”
His red gloved hand moves to brush your touch off of his shirt and then he smirks. “Yeah, ‘n you didn’t even answer, jus’ gave me a mean nudge to the gut…”
“You scared me!” You huff out to him.
Choso’s eyes settle firmly on the cleavage of your tits, not making any sort of attempt to avert his gaze as he talks to you, “I know.” His tone makes it seem as though he did that on purpose. “But I had to get back at you somehow. Who the hell invites their friend to a party and then makes no attempt to see if they’re still coming or if they even made it?”
Oh damn. You did kinda forget about him as soon as you got around Gojo… You don’t think Choso’s even crossed your mind again since earlier that morning. “Ohh uhm, sorry about that.” You say, a slight awkwardness drafting by mere seconds afterwards.
Choso gives you this loose nod of his head before stepping past you. “Yeah uhuh,” He hums casually whilst taking two of those red cups out from their stack. “Too distracted dancin’ with your partner to think about me, right?”
Your eyes follow him as he moves and you watch the way he fixes two drinks—one of them clearly for you. “He… He’s not my partner, Cho. I just—“
“No? But you two are matching,” He points out as he interrupts your next sentence. “Cowboy and Cowgirl too, how cute,” Then, Choso’s turning his head to look at you with this expression you can’t quite read as the next words leave his lips lowly. “Wonder if you’ll ride him the same way you did me.”
“What—“
He scoffs, “Yeah, y’gonna show him all the things you showed me?” He presses even further, taking a step away from preparing those drinks and toward you. Your body seems to not want to listen to you because you remain still and don’t even try to step back. Choso leans in close and angles his head to the side as his eyes remain dead set on yours, “Hm? Are you gonna beg him to fuck you the same way you begged for my cock that night?”
You’re left staring at him all speechless and dumbfounded, no sharp remarks to throw back at him, no attempts at arguing with him, just… nothing.
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hi hello so for any people curious bout the dream beef i am talking about im gon chronicle it all here in a hopefully fully contextual way for both longterm weirdos and new people who dont know bout my parasocial beef w dream. ill try to keep my biases out of it somewhat but anyways,
this began with a podcast Tommyinnit and Jack Manifold have together in which they had philza as a guest. Episode 9 is currently behind a paywall on their patreon but they have a youtube channel where they post them publically as well. Not sure if they make all their episodes public eventually or not but i digress.
Twitter user _constel_ has posted 5 clips from the podcast in question that contain their discussion about dream. I have downloaded the videos but tumblr doesnt want me to put them in this post so i will try and sum up each clip as I go.
Clip 1: Phil starts talking about how once the dsmp was done people would joke about how their 'contracts' would be over and they would be allowed to talk about things behind the scenes. philza mentions the infamous philza tweet in response to dream.
for context, the main discussion is around this exchange from around february 2021, where dream 'jokingly' argues that he is responsible to tommy's high viewership on youtube:
Most of it the tweets are deleted by both parties but it was very much a whole thing. Phil has apparently joked about revealing the context of his reply 'when he retires' (mentioned clip 1).
Jack Manifold had apparently been in a call with tommyinnit when the exchange was happening and recalls tommy being extremely stressed. The context philza gives is that he was texted by tommy to look at the thread while he was going on a walk and tommy was panicking over if dream was genuine (mentioned clip 2). Philza says "I'll find out if he's fucking joking' and that he essentially vibe checked dream. Tommy also states that after the twitter exchange he legitimately wrote in his diary to never be rude to dream: "never be horrible to dream. It's not worth it. It makes me too sad". Additionally jack manifold establishes that he hated dream from the beginning, they hate each other, and that, although he acknowledges dream aided him through the dream smp, he hates how dream 'takes ownership of other people and their accomplishments because he was a guiding hand' (mentioned clip 3).
Jack manifold mentions that tommy was 16 during this exchange and philza additionally says it was out of line (Clip 4). Philza more openly talks about there being 'reds flag after red flags' with dream in clip 5.
OKAY thats honestly a vague description and theres a LOT more so watch the clips if u want. Heres another tweet 'summarizing' it as well. But anyways this of course had people talking about dream again, some people (accidentally?) acting like this is about dream smp lore, and a lot of people concerned about how tommy was afraid to upset dream and would blame himself when dream picked fights with him.
Dream's response on dreamwastaken was to tweet about how he appreciated everyone who was on the server dispite differences, as well as a zip file to download the dsmp server/world file.
Worth noting there is a limitation on how many people can download the file within 24 hours so now people are only getting an error message when trying to access it which is fucking funny. On his private he also tweeted "love and appreciate you guys <3 very happy to be uploading again :) hope to keep it rolling" (Im not cropping out the reply its funny)
Thats all hes said so far, I havent seen tommy or jack manifold talking about it either. technically it isnt outright in response to their podcast but obviously everyone is taking it as such.
final stuff/my thoughts: dream has obviously had a tendency to kinda 'take credit' for 'making' the streamers who were on the dsmp and its notable that in his tweet he still acts like his server was the reason for people's fame and relationships. Saying 'a group of creators most of which would never have collaborated under any other circumstance got together and made something really cool' is just his thinly veiled way of still taking credit for tommy's fame and the relationships he and others have made and its moronic. Not to mention dsmp was very much NOT the server that got these specific people together, i mean techno and phil met through minecraft mondays, tommy and jack manifold met both of them through smp earth i believe. Even if the dsmp wasnt a thing they probably would have collaborated with other members through mcc eventually. the idea that the dsmp was what brought them together and a bunch of minecraft clowns would 'never have collaborated under any other circumstance' is stupid.
anyways sorry this is long as shit. im going to pray dream doesnt let this go for at least 3 to 5 business days as per usual
#fuckit im tagging things#dsmp#dream smp#jack manifold#tommyinnit#philza#dream hate#spent way too much time on this.#if more happens ill add it in rbs. might try n post the clips seperately too#philza says some goodass shit
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Currently working on my own fix-it fic but man this shit is harder than I thought it'd be- I keep crying and then getting distracted reading other fix-it fics. Thought I'd share this snippet to hopefully motivate myself to keep going???
Hen was starting to wonder if maybe Tommy was out for a run when she heard a faint ‘oh shit’ from inside the house. She banged on the door again. “Come on Kinard! I know you’re in there!” She called out. If Tommy’s neighbors thought she was crazy, oh well, too bad. Hen really didn’t care.
Finally the door was opened by Tommy. His hair was a mess- sticking up as though he’d been running his hands through it far too much-, he had deep dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, his eyes were puffy from crying, and frankly, he looked like shit. “What do you want, Hen?” Tommy rasped. Whether his voice was hoarse due to dehydration or yelling and/or crying was unclear.
“To talk about what happened last night.” Hen crossed her arms.
“You mean you’re here to yell at me for what I did?" Tommy guessed. He hadn't forgotten the thinly veiled shovel talk from Hen and Karen months back at the medal ceremony- he wasn't surprised Hen was here now. “Trust me I hate myself for it enough. There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already thought about myself.”
“No. I’m here to try and understand what even happened. According to Eddie, Buck wasn’t making very much sense last night. Eddie would’ve come himself to check on you but he’s got Buck right now. Eddie’s worried about you and frankly, I am too.”
Tommy sighed deeply and stepped aside to let Hen into the house.
Soon they were sitting at Tommy’s kitchen table with mugs of coffee in hand.
“So are you gonna tell me what happened or are you just gonna keep having that staring contest with your coffee?” Hen questioned.
“He asked me to move in with him.” Tommy admitted quietly.
“Okay,” Hen said slowly, waiting for Tommy to explain further why he was upset by it. Beyond the obvious matter of Buck leasing his loft apartment and Tommy owning his house, Hen wasn’t sure what the issue was.
“For a split second, I thought about saying yes.” Tommy confessed. “Then I returned to reality and realized I had to end it.”
“But why?” Hen questioned.
“Even if it was only for a second, Hen, I was ready to, what? Sell my house and more than half my stuff to move in with him? I’m not even mad about that part- I’m upset with myself for considering it. I’ve been in Evan’s position before, first gay relationship, lovesick, you think it’s gonna last forever. And I’ve been the first for guys before too. Like I told Evan last night, I know how it ends. And I guess I’d rather break my own heart than wait around for Evan to do it.”
“If you’ve been so sure all this time that it could never work, why did it take until now for you to call things off?” Hen questioned.
“I think from the start I knew I was playing with fire. After the last guy I was a first for, I told myself I wasn’t going to do it anymore. Then I met Evan, and he was just so magnetic, I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to. I couldn't say no to him. I think I always knew my heart would get broken, and I guess I was okay with that all this time, until last night when I realized I love him, and I knew I had to cut myself off before I reached a point of no return.” Tommy explained. “I mean, I’m a fucking a mess right now and I was the one who called it off. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to survive him ending it.”
“Did you really just figure out last night that you love him?” Hen asked.
“I guess I sorta loved him from the start but last night was different, Hen. I’m in love with him, like well and truly love him, in a way I’ve never felt before, about anyone.” Tears filled Tommy’s eyes. “And I’m just his first. And as badly as I want it, I know I don’t get to be his last.”
“What makes you so sure you can’t be his last?” Hen wondered.
“Because I’m not the forever guy." Tommy shrugged slightly as a tear finally escaped and slid down his cheek. "At best I’m the close-to-but-never-quite-enough guy."
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youtube
IT’S FINALLY HERE SQUIRRELS!
OMG I’ve been biting my nails for weeks on how he is going to react. Already from the thumbnail we can guess that he is not happy and has reacted the exact same way as us.
So let’s dive into my highlights of his reactions. As always, under the cut to avoid spoilers. Here we go.
- Already from Danny’s opening monologue he’s guessed exactly how most of this episode will go in terms of plot beat and story structure. But it is clear he doesn’t know about the 90 minute finale.
- Love how Danny’s immediate response to Crowley’s heaven disguise is “You’ve only made him hotter!” Funnily enough he mentions “it looks like he invented whiskey”. Funny considering David Tennant did that add for whiskey…
- Danny is everyone when he heavily sighs when Maggie accidentally invites the demons in.
- Danny finally gets his payoff about the fly being the key.
- About Beelzebub and Gabriel. He so casually says “I kinda want them to fall in love and I’ll murder anyone who disagrees with me”. Yeah, well…at least ONE angel and demon couple got to do that and go off together! I also love how within 6 minutes he is 100% invested in their relationship.
- “David Forgettit. Azirawho”. HOW DARE YOU SIR!
- Good Omens fandom: deep dives into why no one recognises The Metatron when he’s in his corporal form. Danny when the Metatron enters the books shop: Who’s this guy? Is this God? Did they recast God?! (Crowley then says the last time he saw him he was a big floating head) Oh it’s Zordon! Proving that, yep, it is THAT simply to trick everyone, no deep dives necessary.
- Danny points out Muriel is holding the Crow Road, but then doesn’t try to deep dive into why that’s important. And yeah, if you didn’t know what that book is it doesn’t really mean anything, but looking back at that scene, it is framed so deliberately that it HAS to mean something.
- And now we finally get to it. Danny’s ENTIRE journey of reacting to the final fifteen. I could devote an entire post to everything that he says and does. The clutching of his chest and chair, the pleading of David Tennant to stop being such a great actor, his joy and heartbreak and yelling of “THEY KISSING!”, the depths of despair of wanting to start up smoking, to getting really drunk even though it’s 11am, and to becoming addicted to cocaine. WE. ARE. ALL. STILL. THERE. MY FRIEND!
- It’s funny how Danny went from being such an advocate for Aziraphale this entire time to just holding his head in his hands exclaiming “what the fuck I can’t even, I can’t even, why would you do that?” right at the very end.
Danny’s whole reaction is interesting in that it’s such an immediate reaction, he doesn’t have the luxury like us who have spent the last year and a bit overanalysing everything with a fine tooth comb. Because it’s almost like, maybe that is how we should be reacting? Love to hear everyone’s thoughts on this and his reaction.
And that’s the end. Hopefully he will react to the final 90 minutes once it’s released. What a journey. Now, I really feel like I need to rewatch the entire show over again.
#Youtube#good omens#good omens react#Danny Motta#good omens fandom#good omens react video#crowley#aziraphale#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#crowley x arizaphale#good omens season 2
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so my initial theory was that the lightning strike parallel would have Tommy on the crane and that's how we would get some resolution. I really still love that idea (obviously. i wrote it twice.)
however, now (after zooming in on the instagram promo to an obnoxious degree), I'm not as sold on this version. BUT. there's another thing living in my head.
at some point, someone has to ask Buck why they broke up, and we know that we've got him "on a pendulum" with his reaction, and "cracks starting to show".
which brings about my new theory:
I feel like the conversation is ultimately going to happen with Maddie, since she's the Voice of Reason in his life. Maybe it's after he's been baking with Jee-Yun, idk. Anyway, I know the minute he says "I asked him to move in with me", she's gonna have the response of "...and have you figured out if you love him yet? Had you told him that?" which either will bring about his own feelings realization, or (hopefully) he'll have already come to that conclusion. but mostly, I'm imagining Maddie being like "wait, so you told him you wanted to move in together but you hadn't even said I Love You yet?" queue Buck being like "I thought it was in the context" and Maddie going all Big Sister and being like "okay what actually happened?" this then leading to Buck giving her the rundown of what was said, how Tommy told him he would break his heart and Maddie having to be like "well of course he's afraid, blah blah blah" (or some version of that, with the blahs being whatever reason she gives to him that actually makes sense). At which point, we get to the end of this conversation, and Maddie tells him "you need to call him, Evan. you need to be honest about how you really feel."
and what does THAT get us?
see, something occurred to me when I realized this option: the breakup parallels the first date. but the first date isn't the resolution to that episode, nor is it REALLY the start of their relationship. you know what is though?
the coffee date!
which is how we get them back at a cafe, mirroring their conversation about Buck "not being ready" and Tommy telling him he didn't want to pressure him.
To that end, we get the resolutions to those statements in new forms: we get Evan telling Tommy that he's not the guy who didn't know what he was ready for, and that he knows exactly what he wants, which is Tommy. He knows that because he's able to tell him that he's in love with him, flaws, trauma, and all. I think the way you can counterbalance that with the not wanting to pressure, is by Buck rescinding his offer to live together. at that point, we get a reflection of his understanding that Tommy has trauma (maybe Chimney knows the story and shares it during Buck's conversation with Maddie). anyway, he tells him that its his turn to go at Tommy's pace, at which point we can get a "are you sure about this?" "yes, I'm sure", and then Tommy's the one this time that reaches out and lays his hand over Evan's.
that's all. thanks for attending my second TEDtalk of the night. I'll see my way out (and back into the fic I'm trying to write this into).
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hi, i just wanted to let you know that what you said about "They're saying they don't believe they can cause harm." in your response about the sex ed comic and medical trauma helped me start putting into words some thoughts i'd really been struggling with. it's a hard thought for me to sit with, that believing myself to be harmless is actually a high risk vector for me committing harm, but being able to pinpoint the problem means i can work on de-internalizing the idea and hopefully make me less likely to do harm in the long run. thank you for writing and sharing your experiences, it means a lot to me.
Thank you! I'm very angry about the entire thing and was concerned I probably should not have gone off. Again.
But yes, I actually think this is a thing everyone should sit with. That meaning well doesn't mean you can't hurt someone. In our daily jobs, in our relationships, in our activism.
Of course we can mean well and still hurt people. No, it doesn't mean we should drive ourselves into an anxious spiral trying to analyze every single thing we do from all angles to achieve the perfectly ideal state of doing no harm, but it does mean we need to be very aware of the vulnerability (sometimes by nature, sometimes temporarily) of those around us. Especially when we are in a position of power.
I think that medical professionals especially tend to forget that they are in a position of disproportionate power and that very small and simple things they consider normal may well be objectionable or even harmful to a patient.
I have a good team, mostly. It is very obvious they're just humans doing their best at their jobs and I like them. But they have a LOT more control over my life than they realize, or than I would prefer to give. Or if they realize, they don't know how threatening it feels. My GP is just a little guy with college debt. He could still fuck up my life in about fifteen seconds by refusing to refill a scrip or refer me to a specialist.
And I think all of us have the potential to be that person sometimes. Bears thinking about.
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here you go guys have a preview of the fic that's been taking all of my attention away from beautiful boy (darling boy)
tw: grief, injury description, smell of a corpse described... freshly revived garmadon himself should be a warning /hj
preview
Lloyd sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders as he sat on the stairs leading up to the temple, his dao sword perched beside him. The surrounding canal chilled the already freezing early January air, and the remaining dampness on Lloyd’s skin and hair didn’t help that, gooseflesh rising on his arms.
It was over. His father remained to enjoy his eternal rest in the Departed Realm, and the Sons of Garmadon were on their way to be interrogated and then locked away in Kryptarium Prison for the foreseeable future.
Then, why did he feel like it wasn't over? There were no more loose ends to tie up, and there was nothing left to account for except where they should hold the celebration party for their victory. It was finished, and onto the next villain, wasn't it? That’s how it had been for the past five years of Lloyd’s life.
Lloyd jolted upright as Kai gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder. His face flushed a light lavender as he stood up and turned to face his brother in all but blood.
“You coming with, buddy?” Kai asked, his lips upturned into a small, sympathetic smile as he gently squeezed Lloyd’s shoulder. “We're gonna go back to the bounty, get some food from Chen’s, freshen up, and hopefully sleep if the Sons of Garmadon decide to go peacefully.”
Lloyd opened his mouth to reply. It sounded like exactly what he needed; greasy food, his family, and his bed. There was nothing left for him here, these villains had been successfully thwarted just like the rest. But something still felt so indescribably wrong here. “I just... I need to make sure that he's definitely not here. I know we stopped the ritual and everything, but..” Lloyd paused, rolling his shoulders and making a vague gesture. “You know?”
Kai nodded. “Well, I’m not going to let you go alone.” The brunette told him, rising to his feet and already walking in the direction of the temple of resurrection. Lloyd could tell from Kai’s relaxed gait that he knew that Garmadon couldn't return. He was probably only doing it to soothe Lloyd’s worries like he had a thousand times before.
“Wait, Kai.” Lloyd blurted, walking to be beside Kai as the man stopped to listen, an eyebrow cocked. “This is..” Lloyd’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish’s as he searched for what to say. “This is something I think I need to do alone.” He finished, busing his hands by messing with the sleeves of his hoodie.
Kai scrunched his nose and pursed his lips. “Kid, what if there are any Sons left in there? I don’t want you to be ambushed. And I know what you’re like with your communicator.” Kai said, not unkindly.
It was true, out of all the ninja, Lloyd had broken and lost his communicator the most. Lloyd shifted his weight from foot to foot, fixing his gaze on the floor. He knew he was right, he just didn’t want to admit it. “I was irresponsible back then, Kai. I can take care of myself for the most part now.” Lloyd reminded him. Maturity and responsibility were important qualities in any ninja, but especially the green ninja. He couldn’t continue being chaperoned by his big brother his whole life.
Kai sighed, rubbing his temples. “That’s… True.” The fire elemental admitted, looking down at his little brother again. “But you promise your communicators working, and if anything goes south -- and I mean anything -- you’ll haul ass and get out and call me?”
Lloyd nodded dutifully, reaching a hand up to his ear and tapping the small communicating device that sat there. “You can hear me through this, right?” Lloyd tested, to which Kai nodded.
“Yeah, yeah.” Kai hummed, and then poked his brother in the chest “Just don't do anything stupid, okay? And be back before half-ten. This place is way too creepy.” Kai groaned, cringing at the temple looming before them
Lloyd couldn't help but chuckle, a small grin plastering his features. “Okay, Mom.” Lloyd rolled his eyes playfully, yelping a little and then relaxing as Kai pulled him into a bear hug, wrapping his arms around Kai’s torso in return.
Kai huffed humourfully, and then pulled away, ruffling Lloyd’s hair. “I’ll bring the bounty ‘round, just let me know when you’re coming up.” Kai said fondly, walking back to join the other ninja.
Kai was right about one thing, the temple of resurrection was pretty off-putting. Lloyd sighed, and he walked into the temple again. The strange, spinning floor mechanism had long since stopped, and the portal to the departed realm had shut before his father could pass through.
There was no reason to be here, not unless he wanted to wallow in his sorrow, which in all fairness, maybe he did. Once he reached a place secluded enough, where none of his fellow ninja could catch him, he let his emotions run wild for the first time since his father died. His hands balled up into fists, and a shuddering breath left his chapped lips as his face began to dampen with hot, salty tears.
First master, he missed his father. He missed his father so much. Some part of him had hoped that the Sons of Garmadon would have succeeded in bringing his father back, just so Lloyd could be with him again. Even if he truly was as evil as the Sons claimed he would be, Lloyd would've been able to bring him back to the light. He’d done it before, and he’d do it a hundred times over again if it meant he could have his father back.
He thought he was over it. Over the constant emptiness and rage and misery that consumed him whenever he thought about his father and the fate that had befallen him far too soon after Lloyd had gotten him back. Though, in all honesty, even if his father had to sacrifice himself after an eternity spent with Lloyd, it still would’ve been far too soon.
But Lloyd wasn't over it. He never really would be. The grief would never leave him. It had just become a part of him, like being a ninja had, like being a student at Darkley’s had.
It was a vicious cycle with seemingly no end in sight. He’d be fine, doing something mundane and insignificant, something totally and utterly unrelated to his father, and then he'd think of his dad, and he'd be crippled by grief.
It was hard to think of the good memories, not because there weren't many, but because every time Lloyd thought of his father he'd just drown in his sorrow, in his eternally persevering love that had nowhere to go.
Worst of all, some part of him, the childish, idiotic part of him, was angry. He was angry that his father wasn’t selfish enough to let another serpentine war play out, because Lloyd would’ve fought that war again and again and again if it meant that his father could be by his side. He was angry that his father was so willing to die, to leave him behind again, even if he was sacrificing himself for not only the world at large but his son. He was angry at Destiny for the shit hand it had dealt his family.
He was angry at Chen for instigating the first serpentine war, and the traumas it must’ve caused his father. Lloyd may have been a child at the time, but he knew that his father didn’t wake up screaming some nights because of any normal nightmares. He knew that normal nightmares didn’t leave you shaken for the next couple of days and unable to return to sleep until exhaustion caught up with you and forced you to. He knew that these traumas, Garmadon’s ineffable love for him, and his unending desire for redemption were what made his father so determined to stop another serpentine war from occurring.
But mainly, Lloyd was angry at himself. He’d said such horrible words to his father, just moments before his father condemned himself to the cursed realm. He’d wasted precious time reminiscing on the past when he should’ve been focused on the present. He was angry at himself for not finding another way to stop the rampaging anacondrai cultists.
Just that last gripe alone had left him with countless sleepless nights, thinking up a thousand alternative ways to defeat them. A reforged flute? A technique they still needed to learn? Setting the cultists against each other?
Some part of him also knew none of it would work. Destiny doesn’t compromise nor stop for anyone.
Lloyd didn't know how his uncle did it. He'd known Garmadon for his entire life, he’d grown up alongside him. But he supposed that living thousands of years made you rather experienced in grief, didn’t it? But still. No matter how many times he'd asked Wu how he was so okay, his only response was ‘It gets easier.’
Yet, it felt like it never would.
After a moment, Lloyd unclenched his fists and wiped his tears away, taking deep breaths in a useless attempt to soothe himself enough to focus again. He sniffled and stood up straight. Lloyd opened his eyes again and tried to ignore the searing misery.
The temple was far colder than the rest of the remains of the palace. It was freezing to the point that Lloyd could see his breath, and Lloyd was genuinely unsure if it was so cold because it was so close to water, or if it was because it was night, or even because of the dark magic that had been committed there. He continued to walk around the temple grounds, his eyes flitting around to search for anything that might just look like his father.
He still felt that hope. That incessant desire for his father's return. Lloyd knew there was no point in feeding into it, into the wishes of a selfish child who was not acting like the ninja master he was supposed to be. There was no point in being here.
His father was dead, and it was going to stay that way.
Lloyd turned to leave, but the sound of rocks falling caught his attention. He looked around before he spotted what had made the noise. The pedestal upon which Harumi had placed the necessary items for the ritual, had been cracked open, leaving it in two halves. Lloyd’s hand drifted to the hilt of his dao sword from where it hung from his hip, cautiously approaching the area.
The smell of rotting flesh swiftly assaulted Lloyd’s nose, and all he could do in response was rest his hands on his knees, hunch over and gag involuntarily. He didn’t know how he knew it was rotting flesh, but he supposed that was the sort of thing you knew as soon as you smelt it. Lloyd sucked in a few deep, shuddering breaths and swallowed back the spit that had accumulated in his mouth. He continued over to the stone table, his sneakers tapping quietly along the stone floor.
The teenager peered down at the broken pedestal, looking inside of it and placing a hand on one half of the stone to brace himself. The hollow base of the pedestal was stained with ash and pebbled with debris, but most concerningly, purple blood was splattered across the stone and left in a puddle within the rubble. An uneasy mix of hope and terror settled into Lloyd’s bones. Lloyd only knew of three people whose blood was indigo: himself, Master Wu, and his father.
It was then that the Lloyd smelt the wafting smoke, seemingly coming from every direction, as the canal’s air did little to negate it. It clouded his vision slightly, adding to the overwhelming sense of dread that pooled in Lloyd’s stomach. Any smoke from any fires that the Sons of Garmadon would’ve lit would not be this thick after so long.
Lloyd backed up, adrenaline rushing through his body as his hands began to tremble. He turned to run, only for him to run into a wall that seemingly hadn’t been there before.
It didn't feel like a wall. It felt like metal. Cold, hard metal. But metal didn't breathe, metal didn’t stink of the ozone-like stench that clung to one's skin after travelling between realms, and rotting flesh.
Lloyd took a step back, and then another, and he looked up from the stone floor.
Grassy green eyes were met by fiery red.
Garmadon was frozen where he stood, and Lloyd was in a similar position.
His father was wearing the garb of a samurai, locks of white hair peeking out from beneath the kabuto. His visage was almost identical to how he’d appeared while the Great Devourer’s venom was infecting him. He looked like an oni, the villains in old Ninjargon folktales. He had four arms again, along with those unnaturally long and curved canines that never left no matter what form his father took. His skin was stygian with ivory markings along it. Just from a guess, Garmadon was easily eight feet tall, as he looked like he’d tower over a fully grown Master Wu with ease. A tail with a large tuft of white hair on the tip whipped around behind him, and his legs and feet were more like that of a feline.
Most concerningly to Lloyd however, there was a gaping hole in his father's chest. It oozed violet blood and ran so deep into the oni’s chest that Lloyd could easily see the alabaster of his father’s ribcage, and the porous, mauveish-grey of Garmadon’s lungs, and how they shuddered, expanded, and then deflated cyclically with the effort of breathing.
Garmadon was dead silent, staring down at Lloyd as if he were nothing. Like he didn’t even know who the boy before him was.
Lloyd gazed up at his father, eyes wide and full of love, longing, and uncertainty. “Father?” Lloyd uttered quietly, almost reverently. This had to be some cruel, demented fever dream. He must’ve collapsed after the Sons of Garmadon were arrested, and this was some sort of delusion. This just.. couldn’t be real. Could it? His father was standing before him, alive and breathing. His father.
Garmadon seemingly snapped back to reality, his eyes narrowing as he pushed past Lloyd, nearly knocking the boy over. “She... Calls... Me...” He hissed out, his voice gravelly and low. It was devoid of any warmth or affection his father used to regard him with when he spoke, it sounded more like he was talking to one of his many incompetent lackeys from his time as a villain, or even to one of their enemies during his time as a ninja master.
Lloyd quickly recovered and his confusion only grew. “What do you-” Lloyd paused. Harumi. Harumi was calling him, wasn’t she? She just couldn't leave his family alone, could she? “Father, wait! Don't listen to her!”
Garmadon seemingly ignored him, continuing to walk in that stilted, off-kilter manner. Like the reanimated corpse he was. His movements were unnatural and stiff. He smelt almost like chlorine bleach and rotting, burning flesh.
“Just wait a minute! Let me talk to you!” Lloyd pleaded again, grabbing one of Garmadon’s lower arms. “Please, father!”
#ninjago#lego ninjago#lord garmadon#garmadon#lloyd garmadon#ninjago lloyd#emperor garmadon#sons of garmadon#ninjago season 8#ns8
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(Isabeau) (Polaris and Wren blong to @neoncityrain and @fungal--wastes)
"Night, big guy!"
"Night, tall lady!"
(You and Vixul waved goodnight and headed to your own rooms. She was alright! A good fighter, confident, fun; you're leaving tomorrow, so hopefully you'll see her again.)
(Today in general had been nice, nothing too crazy, just, nice. You helped Jan get the homestead ready for the winter rush, did some training, packed and prepared for leaving tomorrow, you were ready for bed. You open the door, Siffrin had already headed to bed, so, hopefully you wouldn't, w-walk in on them again. . .)
(You walk in and close the door, then stop. You were stuck in place, eyes wide, a strike went through your heart at the scene before you.)
(Siffrin, p-probably not Siffrin actually, was laying on their side, head held in one hand, the other on their hip. They had a wide, cheeky smile, and they had no top on. The star-shaped scars on their body from that day in Dormont looked like a galaxy. The two long mystery scars Siffrin had on their chest were like comets. You were blushing at the sight, blushing like CRAZY.)
"Hello, fighter~" (O-okay!!! It was Loop!!! Got it!!) "So kind of you to join me on this wonderful night!"
"H-HiLoop-" (You let out with a squeak.)
(Loop smiled wider.) "Stunned at the sight of me?"
"Y-yep-!" (Your head sunk into your shoulders and looked away.)
"What? Really?" (Loop said in a mock jokey voice.) "Nooooo but I'm just wearing my nighties~ We have such a big day tomorrow!"
"R-right! Uh-" (You stepped more into the room, trying to make yourself small.) "I-Iuh, it's, yes! Big day! and, uh-"
"And~" (Their smile widened.) "Those mean, mean headmates have kept me away from you ever since that moment~"
(You cover your ever growing blush with your hands.) "BGHNHBDNSDSDB"
"Awwww, too much~?" (Loop rolls onto their front.) "You look tired, Fighter~ you should get changed, I wont look~ Probably~"
(That "probably" was making you just a little bit normal, but, they were right. You were tired from the day, so, so it's time to! You get changed quickly, trying not to think about if Loop is or is not looking at you.)
(You finish up, take a breath, and turn around. Loop was all nice and cozy under the blankets in bed; eyes closed. You breathe a sigh of relief.) "A-all done!"
(They open their eye.) "Stunning, fighter~"
"T-thanks-!" (You squeak. You walk over to your side of the bed and tuck in.)
(Not a moment later Loop was cuddled right up next to you. They looked so, so cute. So sweet. . . You were both facing eachother on your side, and you noticed that despite their cool exterior, they were blushing as much as you were. You spent a few moments just. . . Staring at each other.)
(They put an arm around you, you an arm around them. They pulled themself to your chest. You wrapped them up close. It was like this that you, again, remained silent for some time.)
". . . I. . ." (You finally broke the silence, it was a single letter, but it was broken.)
(Loop retrieved their head from the warmth of your chest and looked up at you.) "Yeeeees~?"
". . . U-uh-" (You look away, shy.) "I just. . . . H-how, how long?"
"Hmmm?"
". . . H-how, long have you, been feeling. . ."
(Loop places a hand on your cheek, and turns your head back to look at them.)
"The moment I laid eyes on you, Isabeau~"
(They lean in close to you, gently, softly, smiling. Unlike last time, though, you knew what was coming. You lean in as well, the moment before lasted an eternity.)
(But the moment a connection is made, you wanted it to last forever.)
>>>
<Null> {Mal Du Pays} (Siffrin) [Loop] [(???)]
(You were dreaming of a campfire. You couldn't move from the campfire, but you didn't want to. It was so warm, comfortable, and. . .)
(You open your eye. Sunlight was flickering through the window, and you could hear people awake already. You closed your eye for just a moment more. It was, so, so warm. . . You never had a blanket so comfortable. . . It was, it was- Isabeaus arm?!?!?)
(It was at that moment you realized that you were tangled in Isabeaus limbs. No way you could move now, and if he rolled onto his front right now, you'd be crushed! Your face was burning. Just, uh, you had to wait! Yeah! You could wait!)
(. . . You didn't have to wait long. You felt Isa shuffle, then yawn, then pull you closer.) "Mmmorning...."
"M-morningIsa--" (You let out, shakily. Oh STARS you were going to explode at this rate!!)
(His face was pressed again the back of your head, gently humming into your hair. His hand traced up, to the side of your head, holding your cheek. . .)
". . . . O-ooohyeah- uh-" (His voice was soft, but wobbled.) "L-loop, right?"
(SSTARS--) ". . . S-sif-"
(Isa paused. You could only imagine the face he must be making, the fear, or, o-or shame, or-)
"T-that'sokay-" (He held you closer, and kissed the back of your head.) "I, just need to know which nickname to use, my lil' Wish.."
(You let out a noise you've never made before. Little Wish?!?!?)
"T-toomuch?" (Isa asks, leaning over to look at you.)
(You cover your face with your hands.) "I-I'mokay, j-just, mmnghnmgfhnmb--"
(You heard Isa laugh, then kiss the side of your head, pause for a moment, then start to get up. After a moment of contemplating alternatives, you get up as well.)
"B-big day today!" (Isabeau chatted while he got dressed. You were still waking up.) "Aaaaaand it looked like we slept in, whoops!"
"I think I needed it." (You mumble, getting up and doing your morning stretches. It was your back and leg that ached today.)
"Hah, you're right! The past few days of rest clearly wasn't enough! Haha!"
(Your stumble a bit doing your stretches at that, then finish up.) "Nah, I think I just needed to wake up lik. . . li. . ." (Your voice broke as you tried finishing that sentence. You look down, blushing even harder.)
". . . . H-hey have you checked the journal yet?" (Isa says, to your rescue.)
"N-nope! I'll uh, do that!"
(You were thankful for the distraction. You looked around for a second and saw your new journal on the side table. You have a quick look through to see if there was anything new.)
(Two days ago you talked to Polaris, you remember that, Mal was around for that too. Yesterday it was, Null and Loop? A nasty combination. But by the looks of it, nothing bad happened! And they packed for you too! How sweet- huh?)
(The last note though, it was Mals writing. Written in the middle of the night. . . Oh.)
"O-oh-" (You let out.)
"Eeeeverything alright?"
"Y-yep! I was w-worried about packing but it looks like that's all dealt with!" (You lie, Mal didn't want to tell the family yet. It was asking you, and the others, if you should. You put a checkmark, they should know. . . Stars. . .)
(Someone new.)
(That was enough. You got dressed, put away the last few things that were left out, and stole a few glances at Isabeau. You put, the new presence to the back of your mind. Pun not intended.)
"All ready?" (Isa asks as you join him by the door.)
"You know it~" (You beam at him. The two of you opened the door and left. You could smell breakfast already-)
"Oh. Good morning." (It was a voice you recognized, but a little to the left. Turning, it was Vixul. Vixul?)
"Good morning!" (Isa boomed.) "Sleep well last night?"
"Like a stone." (Her face was more inquisitive, looking between you and Isa.) "Yourself?"
"Never better!" (Isa chuckled.)
"It's, good to see you again, Vixul." (You left a slight pause before her name, questioning.)
"Likewise." (She considered you two for a moment, then he smiled slightly.) "But between us? It's the first time you've met me. I'm Major, just, keep acting like I'm Vixul around everyone else."
"O-oh! Well, good to meet you, it's Siffrin."
"Still boring ol' Isabeau!"
"Heh." (He shook his head.) "You two are like a couple peas in a pod. Ready for breakfast?"
"Absolutely!! We all have a big walk ahead of us."
"A-actually-" (You need to ask him something.) "C-can, we catch up, after a sec?"
"Secret stuff?" (Isa makes a line across his mouth.) "Got it! I'll see ya downstairs."
(The two of you wait until Isa stomps down to join the others before Major turns to you.) "What's up, small fry."
"O-oh, well." (You were too nervous to be annoyed at the nickname.) ". . . I-I, checked, my book this morning. M-message from Mal, someone, new, uh-"
"May I see?" (He holds out a hand. You fish your book out of your endless pockets and hand it to him.) ". . . ."
". . . ."
". . . . Cool." (He handed the book back to you.) "Well, not cool but whatever. You're doing things right, just try and chat, distract them with hobbies, persecutors are. . ."
"I-I remember." (You nod, putting the book away.) "Just, worried that-"
"That you're not doing it right?" (He chuckled.) "You're doing great, small fry. C'mon, let's get food."
(He clears his throat and shakes his head, back in character- oh yeah!) "Vixul keeps her eye a bit more open, a-and smiles a bit more."
(He looks down at you, surprised.) ". . . 'Thought I was doing a good job."
"You were, I'm just an expert~" (You wink.)
(The two of you joined everyone else in the main lobby. Chairs and tables were moved around to make one big breakfast table. The whole Inn was here! Vixul and her group, you and yours, and, of course, Jan, who getting the last plates of food out of the kitchen before taking their own seat.)
"Here comes trouble." (You hear Polaris grumble.)
"If you take one I'll take the other." (Nille responded, grinning.)
"Making friends already, Pétronille? Are we not enough?" (Odile adds, she was reading Wrens book.)
"Not with Polaris, surely." (Wren responds in the same tone, he was reading Odiles.) "Careful, he bites."
"I DO NOT!" (Polaris responds, voice cracking.)
"Do too." ("Vixul" adds, sitting down. You took your seat next to Isa, too.)
"I DON'T!!"
"You do. Like a cat." (Wren rolls his eyes.)
"Hehe, no wonder he and Siffrin get along so well!" (Mira teases.)
"H-HUH?!?" (YOU JUST SAT DOWN?!?)
"It's true!" (Isa was smiling wide.) "Cuddly like a cat, too!!"
"Eeeewwww!" (Polaris made a jokey face. YOU sunk into your chair.)
"That tracks." (Wren smiles.) "Polaris is, too."
"H-HEY!!!" (No Pol was ALSO sinking into his chair. Everyone laughed.)
(The banter continued. Breakfast was delicious, as usual. Jan and Bonnie had worked together and the result was a feast to remember. Apparently, Vixuls group didn't have a good cook between them. Vixul was the best, and by best you mean 'passable.')
(Everyone had been getting to know eachother more, trading stories, woes, quips. There were smiles, laughter, embarrassment. . . You couldn't help but glance at Ramos, they were glancing back.)
"So you're off to Wolworth?" ("Vixul" asks.)
"Yup!" (Isa says after swallowing his bite.) "My buddy Ramos was raised there! We're off to visit them!"
"But after that?" (Nille punched her hand intimidatingly.) "We're gonna find those two and beat the crab outta them!"
(That gets a few cheers. Next, Mirabelle talks.) "What about you three?"
"Oh, uh. . ." ("Vixul" leans back in his chair.) "We're going to Jouvente, then Dormont, then once I've helped these two I'll leave for some other country, or continent. Dunno where yet."
"No settling down then?" (Mira follows up.)
". . . Nah, not yet. . ." (There's a hint of sadness, there.) ". . . Wren?"
"I have my own things to take care of." (He had closed the book at this point, but wasn't looking up from his plate.) "Once that's dealt with, I'll settle here."
"It's a nice country." (Ramos agrees.)
"Mhm. Polaris?"
"O-oh! Uh. . ." (Polaris looks away, thinking for a moment.) ". . . I dunno."
(He looked down at his food. There was a little silence before Wren sighed, and spoke up.) "You can settle with me, Polaris."
"H-huh?!?" (He looks up.) "You sure?"
"Just don't scratch the furniture." (Wren, and everyone else, laughs.)
(Breakfast went great. You finished up, and helped cleared for all of about 3 minutes until Mirabelle told you to sit down since you were still recovering. At which point, Wren turned and told her the exact same thing.)
(. . . . . You liked this little vacation.)
(You had, made friends here.)
>>>
(That's everything.)
(Breakfast cleared, rooms made, things packed. The two groups of travelers took their time getting out the door. That was okay, you wanted to check one last thing. On one part of the wall, covered by a cloth, was that little sign.)
"Make a wish, check it thrice, stay here a while, don't mind the mice." (You smiled to yourself. What a cute little saying. You looked under the cloth, and it was still there. Still unreadable to all but you- huh? There's a fresh pair of nails in the wood next to the sign.)
"Just the fella I wanted to catch." (You look up, Jan the innkeeper was walking over with a new wood sign under her arm.)
"O-oh hey!" (You wave.) "Did, you need me for something?"
"Nah, just wanted to thank you properly. And put your little gift up." (They walked up to those fresh nails, and started putting the sign up.) "Real thoughtful, by the way."
"Whu- huh?" (You blink, confused.) "What do you. ."
"Don't remember? That's fine." (She got the sign up and stepped away.) "Either way, still looks good."
(The new addition was a wooden sign. It wasn't painted, but it was carved, carefully and with detail. The words on the sign were very familiar; "Make a wish, check it thrice, stay here a while, don't mind the mice.")
". . . Did, I make that?"
"Sure did. Just walked up, handed it to me, and walked away." (She let out a laugh.) "Heh, made me tear up all night. Gramps woulda' been proud."
(. . . That, sounded like Mal. Mal made that? For, for a stranger?)
". . . Take care of yourself, bud." (Jan turned and lightly punched you in the shoulder.) "If ya ever need a bed, I'll give you one without mice."
(You laughed, and said your goodbyes. Mal made that, you still couldn't believe it. . . But, at least now people would know what it means. You made your way out, being the last to join everyone.)
"That everyone?" (Isa asked.)
"No, I left Loop behind." (You stick your tongue out, he laughs.)
(You turned to "Vixuls" group of three, well, three-ish. You're smiling. There's an awkward silence before the inevitable.)
". . . Guess this is goodbye." ("Vixul" breaks the silence, grinning.) "Don't go loosing your head, alright?"
"Wouldn't dream of it!"
"Right back atchya!"
"No promises."
". . . Good luck, you three." (You were feeling, surprisingly emotional. You had only known these three for a week. Maybe two if you counted the loops. You were going to miss them.) "With, with everything."
". . Thank you, Siffrin." (Wren bows politely.) "I wish the same for all of you, as well."
"Oooh the w-word, careful with that."
"Ha, I'll be careful. . ."
(Polaris looks away, quiet. Wren sighs, and elbows him in the gut.)
"H-hey-! Uh. . ." (He looks to Wren, then to you, then away.) ". . ."
(. . . He stomps over to you and shoves something into your hand.) "Here." (He pouts, then walks back.) ". . . Thanks for, helping. The other day."
(You open your hand. One of his oversized needles was in it. You look up at him.) ". . . Good luck, Polaris. I, wont forget this."
[You got the PIN KNIFE.] [Very low damage, but doubles your speed, and your critical damage is quintupled!!] [You can see stars twinkle in the ball-point.]
". . . I wont, either." (His face softens, sinking into is own cloak a little.) ". . . For Navi."
". . . For Navi." (. . . On the highest peak. . .)
(. . . There was a moment of silence. You didn't acknowledge it; you didn't need to. . . Eventually, it had to be broken. With your last goodbyes said, the group of three headed off to their own travels. You waved back one last time, before turning to your own adventures; leading the group of seven.)
(Well, seven-ish.)
#HEHEHEHHEHHE END. OF ACT 2#isat#in stars and time#art#isat art#isat fanart#siffrin system au#isat au#isat spoilers#sifstem#isat siffrin#sifstem main story#isat isabeau#isat loop#vixul#wren#polaris#isat oc#isat fanfic
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Hi ❤️
So I have read the one about no nut November answer xoz gave me and I completely agree
Now about landoscar tho?? (Causal au)
I am so in love with all of your writing and hiw you thunk and how you have planned out your little world
So hopefully tbis is not annoying considering it is the same ask 😅 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
Omg nah but you're right, landoscar actually might be stupid enough to try it
And there's no world in which it isn't Lando's idea first and no matter how much Oscar tells him it's stupid and they aren't going to make it of course he lets himself be convinced to try anyway and I reckon at first they take it so so seriously and they're so well behaved
And like five days i Lando's just like... But what if we—
And Oscar is immediately like NO we've come too far, don't say that, we can do this
And by day ten they're both like on opposite ends of the couch so that they can't even brush shoulders and get horny
And by day 15 literally all their friends are like oh my god what are you guys being stupid about this time
And then Lando gets this great idea of like... What if we have sex but we just.. don't come
And Oscar is so sex starved he ends up being stupid enough to agree to that
And I bet by the 29th they're so desperate they're like on the verge of tears, but they're going to do it, they're going to make it
And then like the afternoon before they'd planned to have midnight marathon sex someone accidentally comes first and the other one is like so desperate and turned on they come too like it was contagious
And with the postnut clarity they're both immediately like... why the fuck did we even do that?
Lol I might actually have to write this fic now
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The Pressure of the Podium: Interview With George Russell
While British success stories in Formula 1 tend to centre around Lewis Hamilton-as well they should; he's a legend-George Russell has quietly been making a serious name for himself. At a fresh-faced 26 years old, he’s one of the younger racers on the grid and, when we caught up with him ahead of the Hungarian Grand Prix back in the summer, was still revelling in the best season of his career. So, how was he finding the season so far? "Its been... I wouldn't say a rollercoaster, but it's been one that we've been climbing," says Russell. "At the start we were at the bottom of the mountain and been steadily getting closer to the top. There's so much excitement and motivation when you're on a team like this, like we have a visible return on everything we've been putting in, that momentum we've been building up."
We were talking shortly after his second F1 victory in Austria, which was a bit of a hairy one. After spending most of the race in third, still a respectable podium finish, Lando Norris and Max Verstappen ahead of him got a little too close to one another, crashing to take them both out the race. It was a far cry from Russell's incredibly convincing first win. But was there a difference to him? "Each win is incomparable. Every race is a completely different scenario. My first, in Brazil, was where I was ahead every lap. I'd done fantastically the day before and the pressure was there. Near the end I had Lewis on my tail and it was a relief to get across that finish line. In Austria I was happy to be in third, and then it all kicked off ahead and the opportunity arose. Every race is different and you never really know how it's going to go, even when you're behind the wheel." With that kind of uncertainty, it has to be hard to prepare yourself for racing at this level. There's the danger, of course, as that crash in Austria and a multitude of other times shows, but none of these guys would be racing if that put them off. Instead, we were more interested to find out if the pressure ever got to him - and, more importantly, what Russell did to cope with it.
"I'm a little obsessive. I try to make sure I've gone through all the preparation possible with my engineers, taken a look at last year's data, gone over the car, the weather conditions; anything I feel I need to be looking for. Once I've ticked them all off I'm at peace, mentally. I know I'm at my peak physical condition. I know every race is going to be tough. But there are nineteen other drivers and hopefully they'll find it tougher than I will. After that, what will happen, will happen. It's out of your control." With that huge amount of pressure every single week, the intense training regime to stay in that physical condition, and the sheer hectic nature of a globe-trotting racing competition, decompression seems like a necessity. Russell, though, seems to want to take decompressing very literally.
"I love being by the sea so I've started free diving, which is a bit of a random hobby, but when I'm out in the water I'm just so focused on my breathing, on being underwater, that I just disconnect from the world. Once beneath the sea, down there with the fish and coral, you're not thinking about anything else except having enough breath to get back to the top!" Russell isn't the only British racing legend around. We've had a long, illustrious line of champions of which Hamilton is only the latest and Russell could potentially be next. For Russell, there's something in the inspiration of champions of old, and having seven of the ten Formula 1 teams based in the UK helps. But for him, the key to British racing success is British racing's green grass roots.
"I remember racing with Lando and Alex, and alongside other racers who didn't make it to Formula 1 but have made professional racing careers. There's definitely something about the grass roots level here that works. But it needs to stay at that level. This isn't the most economical sport in the world, so we need to make sure that we can give kids that don't have the opportunity, otherwise, the funding they need to get behind the wheel and try go-karting." That said, go-karting is never going to be cheap for most would-be podium contenders, and whether it's that or sheer pace, it's an opportunity sadly few kids have. E-sports, on the other hand, is different. "Simulators have advanced so much now. The Formula 1 game is fantastic and there should be ways we can identify talent sooner, instead of just having financial backing to push you through the ranks."
Whether coming from the classic karting angle or from killing it online with photorealistic driving games, kids are going to need to have to contend with one of the most intensely competitive sports in the world - if not the most. According to Russell, though, they shouldn't be afraid of making mistakes; quite the opposite. "The one piece of advice that I try to embrace, myself, is: don’t be afraid to fail. The times I've failed have been the times I've progressed the most, the times I've really pushed my limits. It doesn't matter what you do; failure is necessary. It's how we grow, how we learn about ourselves. There's so much pressure not to let people down, especially with younger people, but you don't want to go through life never making a mistake or knowing where your ceiling is."
And any advice for those of us not thinking of a career in racing? Even shaving a few seconds off a track day would help for a few more bragging rights. "No matter what you're driving, stay relaxed. I've driven with people that have never been on a track before. They tense up, hunch over, and it makes everything erratic. Smooth is fast - smooth with the steering, throttle, and brake. It's not necessarily how we drive in Formula 1, but if you want to speed up on a track day, stay relaxed." Obviously, it’s not lost on Russell just how many kids and F1 fans alike look up to him as a sportsman. He's young, he's hungry, and his experience is starting to pay off. But for Russell, there are other sportspeople in other sports, and one in his own who I'm sure you can guess, that he looks up to.
"I have a huge amount of respect for Ronaldo. He's without a doubt the leader in his field. The same with Djokovic - they're fighters that push their physical performance. Then there's Lewis, obviously. He puts his platform to great use and I admire him for that as much as his wins and what he's doing off the track. I hope to be one of those leaders in years to come." Now he may well get a chance as Lewis will, in 2025, be moving from Mercedes, as Russell's teammate, over to Ferrari. It's a bold move, but on the other hand it means that Russell will soon be able to race his former teammate as an actual rival. Will that be weird? "He'll be wearing a different suit, but I'll still recognise him! We're at different stages in our career, but we have massive respect for one another. For now, I'll see him on the track."
#damn george other than lewis you have Shit taste in other athletes#george russell#f1#formula 1#fic ref#fic ref 2024#not a race#2024 not a race#between britain and hungary 2024#with lewis#tw max#tw body image
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9-1-1 Lonestar SPOILERS
Aw Jonah and TK 🥺
Mama “I bet that car costs the same house in some places”
Owen and Enzo are this close to acting like school yard boys 🙄
Poor Judd trying to do business stuff and Owen going off
Owen offering to break bread and TK does not believe him but he’s still hopeful and then Owen turns to Judd and was like I’ll show TK and rub it in Enzo face
Weren’t you just it saying that TK and Gwyn fell for it when Enzo was manipulative???
Wyatt using his story to save her life 😭😭😭
Nancy with Tommy at the appointment 😭
Dang girl
My mama “dang she don’t mess around”
I like that Izzy seems comfortable with Nancy which implies that maybe Nancy (and hopefully TK) hang out with Tommy & the girls
Tommy that’s too much pressure
On yourself and Nancy
Mom got a kick out of Enzo knowing Owen’s rent
TK and Jonah having a contest 🥹
I love TK, he’s such a sweetheart, especially with kids
My Mama never watches the sneak peeks and as soon as they started talking about the arm wrestling contest and then TK was like let’s just let it go my mama goes I dont think they’re gonna let it go lol
Bleh 🤢
That’s a nasty break
$350, 000 car
My mama “DAMN we could buy condo for that”
Carlos really still wants to be on Owen’s good side lol
TK snapping at Owen 😭
To be fair though, Owen needed to hear that
Nancy trying to help get Tommy rest days 😭
And Tommy not wanting Nancy and TK to get stuck with an awful temp-boss 😭
Tommy snapping at Nancy 💔
Aaaahhh 😭😭😭
“Nancy WALK”
Mama “She is STUBBORN”
Did TK just appear? Did he run ahead of the others?
Aww for that guy and his future stepdaughter
Oooh god, I really thought we were gonna have another burst gut (911 last week)
And mom was like dang why is that getting popular because apparently it also happened on Chicago Med or Fire recently
I wonder the whys on that
TK’s party is really cute
I love Carlos calling TK out and bringing him on stage with his baseball song
Omgod TK bringing Enzo and Owen together
Them singing together 🥺
Oh gosh darn it
At the PARTY?
Booooo 😭
Also Owen reassuring TK that even if Enzo is bad for the things he’s done to others he’s still good for raising TK right and I think that’s really important for him to hear
Oooh, Carlos really wants to get him that car doesn’t he, lol
Owen and Carlos are so gonna come together to buy a RED mclaren next year lol
Also how many parties/get togethers has that been that’s been runined/tragic for them all now?
Tommy stop, please
You’re gonna hurt yourself
And that’s exactly what happened
Tommy!!!
Oh poor Izzy and Evie
They’re doing so well and Wyatt is coaching them so well 🥺
I’m not sure they know they’re talking to Wyatt so being told “my dads gonna meet you at the hospital” is probably really out of the blue lol
Tommy telling Judd to call Nancy 🥺
I’m sorry, this is so silly but why did she give Judd her purse? Is she not allowed to have it?
The girls being asleep on the hospital waiting chairs and Judd watching them
The Ryders and Vegas are an extended family unit fr
Tommy 😭
Nancy trying to reassure Tommy 😭
“You’re wise and patient, which is more than I can say for myself right now”
My mama “that’s for sure”
I love Tommy wanting Nancy being interim paramedic captain
Promo:
I know people have been calling it for a while but I really wasn’t expecting them to go down the adopting Jonah route
The ceiling is bleeding?
Soup man got shot?
#911 lone star spoilers#tk strand#911 lone star#owen strand#carlos reyes#enzo#jonah morgan#tommy vega#nancy gillian#wyatt harris#judd ryder#marjan marwani#paul strickland#mateo chavez#tarlos
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tumblr in the blaseball universe, part 10
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9
image descriptions: the first image is a thick black bar meant to separate posts. the second image is a thin gray bar meant to separate reblogs. they are used continuously throughout the post when appropriate. like right now
☎️ official-jessica-telephone 🔁
☎️ official-jessica-telephone
what happens if the real JT wants this URL. it's a part of me now. who do i become if i have to give it up
🐟 offishal-jessica-telephone Follow
she'll have to krill you for it
☎️ official-jessica-telephone
WHO ARE YOU
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☕ eyesinthedark11
every day with salmon weather for the past few months, my dad has miraculously "found" fresh salmon for us to have for dinner. should i ask him where he's getting it from
#personal #i know the answer. i just need the verbal confirmation
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Whoops, looks like this post doesn't exist!
🐍 gamer--gorgon
shoutout to the guy (who i think might be in our shadows?) that goes fishing during every salmon game. you should see if you can get anything from the floods
#if he's a shadows guy it's extra funny because he's gotta come up from new jersey #all the shadows share an apartment there #charla said she thought she knew him but every time she tries to get into the stands to talk to him he just disappears lmfao #i get it king. i really do
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☎️ official-jessica-telephone
what do you MEAN they're rebooting supernatural???
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☕️ eyesinthedark11 🔁
☕️ eyesinthedark11
i understand that this is ostensibly a terrible thing to say but i truly do not think parker macmillan did anything wrong. if my mom was the coin i woulda done worse. i wouldn't have only been passively killing
🦆 peripheral-duck
everyone wants to act all gifted kid burn out fleabag mommy issues #coquette #girlblogger but the minute mommy decides murder is okay if it gets her some money it's all "well why didn't PARKER do anything :/" you fake fucking bitches. bro got cursed to bring destruction in his wake and THEN cursed to wander everywhere. we're not going to question that??
☕️ eyesinthedark11
if the coin was my mom i would have burned the whole earth years ago. not even because of firewalker or anything i woulda just done that
#like you are looking at mommy issues supreme. you show some fucking respect #<- PREV #on one hand it feels really weird to say these things about a Real Guy who is possibly still alive #on the other hand. you fake bitches #if you've reblogged a fleabag quote i don't wanna hear shit from you #'maybe the fireballs didn't know what instability was' valid point! #but that does not mean they're not at fault. you know #idk why everyone expects parker to just. fix everything. #if he's in the vault then he's been 19 for like 50+ years. he suffers more than jesus
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🐶 catgirlfirefighter
it's somehow the league's best kept secret that mike townsend is deaf. people keep coming to me like, "idk how you're friends with the guy, he just ignored me, he's such a dick" bro he can't hear you. and also yeah he is a huge bitch
#right judgement wrong reason #mike if you're reading this. ily <3
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🦞 marketplace-shellfish
Hey has anyone heard from that guy who was making the "meatcute is not real and can't hurt me" affirmations recently? I can't tell if it's a bit or not but they haven't posted since.
#blaseball #san francisco #san francisco lovers #hopefully it's nothing and i'm just anxious lol
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Showtime
Matt Sturniolo x actress!reader
— tags;; resolved angst, relationship angst, jealousy, arguments, happy ending
— wc;; 2.8k
— author's note;; based on this ask, i changed the setting to a theatre performance since that's easier for me to relate to, i hope that's okay <3 + the ending sucks, sorry for that
The energy backstage is unmistakable. The air is buzzing with excitement, garments are rustling, and you can hear the faint whispers of people rehearsing their roles one last time before it is time to step on stage.
You’re standing at the end of the room, arms crossed over your dress, and trying to ignore the nervous pit in your stomach. This is not the first time you’ll be standing on a stage in front of hundreds of people, far from it. It will also not be the last time, hopefully far from it as well. It’s also not your first time having a huge role, so that’s not what you’re worried about either.
What makes this premiere such a big thing for you is that your boyfriend of a few months will be watching. You got Matt and his brothers first-row tickets, and the way you know him he forced them to leave early so he could guarantee that he’s on time. It’s the first time he’ll be seeing you on stage, and you refused to tell him anything about the play or your part — except that you might just have got the main role (and are very proud of that fact).
You must’ve looked absolutely frozen because your friend walks up to you and lays a hand on your shoulder.
“It’s gonna be alright,” she promises, an encouraging smile on her lips. “You rocked the rehearsals.”
Grinning, you quickly shake your stiffness off. “Yeah, it’s gonna be great,” you agree.
“Your boy Matt, he’s coming, right?”
“Yeah,” you say, even just the thought of him lighting your face up in a smile.
“And he’s okay with… you know, that scene with Oliver?” she asks, nodding over to the guy who plays your love interest, aka Odysseus, the Greek hero lost on the sea for a decade. He‘s standing in front of a wall, staring at it intently, challenging the plaster as if it were Poseidon keeping him from returning home. He’s locked in already.
Smacking your lips, you nod. “He’ll know it’s not real,” you say, nodding, almost as if to convince yourself. “It should be fine.”
“Girl… you didn’t tell him?” your friend asks, clearly doubting what you said.
“He knows nothing about the Odyssey, so I didn’t tell him,” you justify yourself. “Especially not a major spoiler like that.”
“I don’t think that was a good idea,” she sighs, “but you do you.”
Someone claps twice, and everyone immediately turns around. “Alright, it’s time,” the boy responsible for time-keeping says, his voice awkwardly loud in the sudden silence.
All you can hear is the audience, even through the thick doors to the dressing rooms. It’s barely there, even the whirring of the lamps above is louder, but it immediately multiplies your nervosity as you remember how many people will see you tonight. The tickets were sold out only two weeks after the performance was announced. Sold out. You can still barely fathom it, even after so many years of theatre.
“Break a leg,” you whisper to your friend who squeezes your shoulder one last time before hopping off the table and joining the group leaving the dressing room.
You follow her silently, well aware that the audience is slowly calming down, the lights are tuned lower and an almost electric atmosphere fills the room. It finds its way into your lungs, too, but you keep breathing steadily, nonetheless. You got this.
It‘s already there, the well-known feeling of slipping into a role. The person who walks on stage isn‘t you, it is Penelope, waiting for her husband to return home and tending to his land and wealth.
The murmurs behind the curtain eventually stop completely. Anticipation floods the room and replaces the pit in your stomach. The light changes. The actors and actresses are behind the stage. Except for you. And slowly, the curtain opens, revealing you, alone, in the middle of the stage. In the spotlight. Showtime, baby.
Time passes quickly when you‘re on stage. With your thoughts constantly ready for the next costume change, the next scene, the next text, you can hardly focus on the now, and yet that’s the only place where your consciousness lies. You show grief, desperation, hope, and most importantly determination every second you‘re on stage. And every time you look at the audience, you can see Matt‘s eyes looking at you with utter fascination and wonder, making your heart warm with confidence.
And then the last scene arrives. Odysseus, clothed as a poor beggar, reveals himself. Oliver tenderly takes your face in his hands. You look up at him, lips parted in awe and shock, just as you rehearsed.
“Odysseus,“ you stage-whisper, running a hand along his temple. “Is it truly you? Or have the gods deceived my eyes and feasted on my hope?“
“Penelope,“ he whispers back, the name falling so sweetly from his lips. “It’s me.” And then he leans down, pressing his lips against yours. You can‘t see Matt‘s stiffness or the bitter tug that lies around the corners of his mouth after that single movement.
The audience sighs collectively, so much pent-up tension releasing. It‘s almost palpable as you melt into Oliver‘s- no, Odysseus‘ arms and rest your head against his chest while the curtains slowly close.
The room explodes with people cheering and clapping while the other actors and actresses quickly hurry onto the stage. With a euphoric grin on your lips, you lay your arms around the shoulders of Oliver and whoever happens to be on the other side of you, waiting for the curtains to open again. And then you bow and bow again, and run off the stage, and run back, and bow, and look for Matt in the audience, and almost trip over your own feet, and bow again, and everyone‘s laughing and cheering…
Backstage, the room is buzzing with energy as everyone hurries to change out of their Greek dresses and clean up their makeup. No one‘s actually talking, the air is filled with rustling and clinking and occasional questions like, “Can you help me open my dress?” or, “Where‘s my blush?” And then the director enters and congratulates everyone, and everyone is smiling but no one is listening.
You’re the first to leave, unable to wait any longer before seeing the triplets. But especially Matt, you can‘t wait to see his reaction.
The cold air bites your lungs, but you can‘t bring yourself to care about that as you run across the pavement, heading to the front doors of the building. With rosy cheeks and out of breath, you stop before the entrance.
But there‘s no trace of the triplets in the crowd. Assuming that they only needed to use the toilet or something, you lean against the wall, making sure to keep the doors that swing open regularly in your peripheral while you let your gaze wander over the crowd. Every time someone walks out, your head snaps back in their direction, but it‘s never a familiar face.
It takes you at least ten minutes before you realise to check your phone. The second you pull it out, a sense of dread washes over you. Nick sent you a message, a quick, “Matt wasn‘t feeling well, we needed to leave soon. Absolutely loved your performance tho, you crushed it!!” You respond with a nervous, “Okay, and thanks!”
Matt isn‘t feeling well. Now you‘re feeling ill too, the pit in your stomach coming back even worse than before the performance.
The others are going to party all evening, celebrating the premiere. You wanted to invite Matt, but now you‘re torn between going home to him or staying with a bad feeling for the rest of the night. The choice isn’t difficult, and you order an Uber.
The second you walk up to the porch of the house, Nick has already whipped it open, running to hug you first.
“Oh. My. God. That was a-maz-ing!” he exclaims, almost lifting you from the ground with his embrace. You giggle, another rush of blood flooding your cheeks as you relish in his compliments.
“Like girl, I know nothing about Greek mythology but I just know that that was exactly what Penelope felt all that time!” he continues, guiding you to the house. “So vulnerable and yet so strong. Unbelievable.”
Not knowing what to say except for thousands of thank you‘s, you just grin and sheepishly look away until you enter the house, looking for Matt. But he isn‘t here, not even as you enter the living room. Chris is lounging on the couch, lazily scrolling on his phone. He looks up as you enter, and all you can see is his slightly tense expression.
“Matt‘s in his room,” he says, just a bit too quick for your taste. And then he adds, “Great performance, by the way. I really liked… everything about it.”
You chuckle slightly at his cluelessness. Muttering a quick, “Thanks,” you proceed down the hallway to Matt‘s room.
He doesn‘t react when you knock the first time, so you do it again, even fiercer.
“Matt,” you say before you open the door and enter the room. He‘s lying in the dark on his bed, staring at his phone screen. He doesn‘t even look up.
Not that you expected him to shower you with compliments—well, you kind of did, but was that so wrong of you?—but at least something would‘ve been nice. Instead, he just keeps ignoring you. You cross your arms in front of your chest, the hurt obvious in your eyes. But he can‘t see it because his back is turned to you.
“Matt,” you say again. The air in the room is thick, but not because it smells bad. It just feels bad.
The adrenaline after the show has disappeared by now, leaving you completely drained. If you could just have this one thing—have one performance to be happy about. But no. Your boyfriend won‘t even congratulate you.
Tears dwell up in your eyes and you don‘t even try to suppress them. Everything was so much half an hour ago, and now it‘s nothing, worth absolutely nothing. The euphoria before and after the performance has dissolved, and you miss it already.
You know this feeling and hate it so, so much. Every time you get time to think after a play, everything feels like shit. You feel weak. Empty. And Matt is ignoring you. People have often wondered why you still have so much energy after acting for two hours. This is the reason: if you let go of the energy, it will absolutely wreck you.
A strained sob finally escapes your lips. Matt tenses up immediately, and he turns around to face you in the darkness of his room.
“Baby?” he whispers. “Are you crying?”
A thousand and one answers lie on your tongue, but you have the energy for none of them. Instead, another weak sob claws its way out of your chest.
Matt bites his lower lip, obviously hesitant about what to do.
“Why did you… why are you ignoring me?” you ask, feeling pathetic for the tears and sobs and choked-out words. But you don’t care to pull yourself together.
“C‘mere,” he mutters, patting the bed beside him. He‘s avoiding the question, but you don’t care. The exhaustion in your movements is obvious as you flop down next to him.
The silence is thick, despite your occasional laboured breaths and sniffles while Matt awkwardly keeps his arm around your shoulder. Eventually, when you have calmed down enough for his measures, he clears his throat.
“You didn‘t tell me.” Your heart drops.
“Tell you what?” you ask and immediately regret it.
“About… him.”
“Oliver,” you say, and he nods. “I didn‘t think there was anything to tell.”
He pulls his arm back, and you know that if there were light in the room right now, you‘d see his hurt expression.
“What do you mean, there wasn’t anything to tell? You made out with him in front of hundreds of people!” he exclaims.
“I didn‘t mean it obviously,” you try to reason. “It‘s my job, remember?”
“I know, but that doesn’t make it better.” The bitterness in his tone, the way you already know he won‘t give in, makes you grind your teeth.
“You apparently don‘t know, if you‘re behaving like this now,” you snap, scooting away from him slightly.
You just spent the entire day with last-minute rehearsals and the final play. You‘ve been up since six in the morning, working hard for it all to be perfect, for it all to work out, and all he can think about is a moment that lasted less than three seconds? Your exhaustion is gone again, blasted away by another wave of adrenaline which your body apparently can‘t get enough of.
“I can‘t help it,” he mutters, “I don‘t want to see you like that.”
“Like what?” you demand. “Doing what I love? Making it my job? Properly fulfilling my dreams?”
“That‘s not what I meant-”
“But it‘s obviously the only thing you can remember.”
“Can you stop?” he groans, running a hand over his face. “I‘m just saying, you could‘ve warned me at least. I wasn‘t expecting… that.”
You sigh, laying back on the bed. “I‘m sorry, okay? I just wanted to keep the entire thing a secret because you didn‘t know the Odyssey. I didn’t think it‘d be that big of a deal.”
He stays silent for a second, staring at his hands. “But it is,” he finally mutters. “Next time you kiss a guy, I want you to tell me.”
“Alright, fine,” you mutter, looking up at him. But the hurt and disappointment don‘t recede. “Next time I have a play, I‘ll just tell you everything about it so you can‘t complain.”
“Don‘t say that,” he says sternly. “The play was great, I just…”
“You just can’t remember any of it because you got fixated on one single moment.”
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Putting words in my mouth.”
“But I‘m not, am I? I‘m just reading between the lines,” you scoff.
“You‘re making me sound like an asshole who can‘t appreciate…” Your eyes snap up to meet his, and his voice slowly trails off.
“Yeah? Tell me more about this asshole I‘m making you be that‘s definitely not you.” Your voice is sarcastic and relentless.
“Fuck, I didn‘t mean it like that.”
You look at him. One eyebrow arched, arms crossed, and not going to let go of it soon.
“I‘m just jealous,“ he mutters, avoiding your gaze. “No one should get to see you like that, much less be the one to kiss you.“
Your gaze softens, but you keep looking at him. “I know. But it meant nothing. It was just for a job, and you should know that. You need to trust me.“
“I do,“ he says without hesitation. “I just don’t trust him.”
His voice is bitter again, and his eyes are focused on his hands, the fingers on his right hand twisting his ring around. You lay a hand over his, stopping the anxious movement.
“He’s an idiot,” you say firmly, “I’d never voluntarily spend time with him. But he’s a good actor, and we work well together. I promise you that all there’s ever going to be between us is respect for the others’ acting.”
The conviction in your tone seems to calm him, but he’s still not looking at you.
“God,” he eventually whispers, “I’m such a dick. I ruined your evening, didn’t I?”
“No, you…” you quickly reply, but then you hesitate. “Well…”
“You should be out celebrating with your friends because you did great at your performance, but you’re here, making sure I don’t feel bad about it, that’s not fair…”
“I’m not gonna argue against that,” you mutter, “but I get it. I should’ve told you.”
“You wanna go out?” he offers, but you shake your head.
“Next time. ‘m too tired now.” Sighing, you lean against him. He immediately stretches his arm out and lays it around your shoulders, pulling you closer again and leaning back until you’re lying in bed next to him.
“I know that I didn’t make it clear enough, but I loved it. You’re such an incredible-”
“Matt,” you interrupt him. “Not now.” Not after he refused to think about anything but the scene with the kiss.
“Okay,” Matt whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ll come watch again tomorrow, and then I’ll say all the beautiful things you deserve.”
You can’t help but let out a small giggle. “It’s sold out,” you say, shaking your head. “But…”
“But?”
“I could get you in from the back, so you’ll meet Oliver as well,” you say. He visibly cringes at the thought, but then he seems to think about it.
“Maybe that’s a good idea,” he says hesitantly, pulling you flush against his chest.
A small smile is painted on your lips for the rest of the evening.
#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo fic#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo fandom#this was actually fun to write#most of it from real experiences#yes i play theatre#yes i get depressed after performances#yes i hate it#no i don‘t know if that‘s normal#also i love the aesthetic of this one#like the colours match so well#i‘m kinda proud for keeping up the blue aesthetics#i hate the ending tho#it's so rushed again#i bit off like five of my nails while writin this btw
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A Nocturne in Melody
Pairing: Vampire!Viktor x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 7,852 (about 28 minutes reading time)
Summary: Claire raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “Are you sure about that?” she asked, her tone almost pitying. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he loves you. But love doesn’t change the fact that he’s… different now. Forever, actually.”
Notes: This doesn’t contain spoilers whatsoever—so don’t worry. I’m a bit nervous about how this turned out, but hopefully you guys will like it.
Warnings: None(?)
Masterlist: A Nocturne in Melody
Part 2
The apartment was quiet, save for the warm, low notes of your violin filling the space, dancing through the air in practiced strokes. It was the only thing that made you feel somewhat like yourself these days, bringing back some sense of comfort and control. You’d been trying to immerse yourself in the familiar rhythms and melodies, hoping the music would soothe away the dull ache in your leg and the nagging frustration that had settled into your bones since the accident.
You’d avoided the cane again today, though you knew it wasn’t doing you any favors. You could feel the pain creeping up as you stood there, pressing down with each note, reminding you of the limitations you couldn’t outrun. Yet, in these moments, you felt a glimmer of your old self, and you clung to it as fiercely as you could.
You were so caught up in the music, in the small relief it brought, that you didn’t notice Viktor’s presence until he was right behind you, his hands slipping gently around your waist, pulling you close.
“Hi, beautiful.”
Your heart skipped a beat, the violin bow slipping as you nearly lost your grip on the instrument. “Viktor, you scared the shit out of me!” You let out a breath, feeling the tension unravel as he chuckled softly, his voice warm and low.
“Sorry,” he murmured, though the smile in his voice told you he’d been amused by your reaction. He pulled you a bit closer, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “You were so focused.”
You leaned into his embrace, the weight of his arms around you grounding you. It was moments like these that you held onto, reminders that, despite everything, you still had each other. Viktor, with his steady hold, had become your anchor in ways you hadn’t imagined, and you could feel him clinging to you just as tightly.
The past few months had been a struggle, for both of you. After three long months of confinement, Viktor had finally been released from the containment facility. But it hadn’t been easy—he’d battled the cravings, his new instincts, fought to keep control, and every time you’d visited, you’d seen the toll it was taking on him. He hadn’t been the same; the familiar warm amber of his eyes replaced with a striking, unsettling red, his fangs just barely hidden behind his lips.
That first visit, he’d barely looked you in the eye, his hand covering his mouth every time he tried to smile, as if ashamed of the transformation. It had broken your heart, seeing the man you loved reduced to a shadow of himself, fighting so hard to maintain his humanity. And yet, through it all, he’d somehow managed to hold on. When he’d finally been released, he’d come home to you—a different man, perhaps, but still Viktor.
You’d felt the change, though. He was quieter, his shyness around you more pronounced than before, as if afraid of what you might think of him now. You knew the feeling too well—the weight of insecurity and unfamiliarity, the strain of adapting to a body and life that felt like someone else’s. He’d throw himself into his work at the lab, the way he always had, finding solace in his research, but you saw the tiredness in his eyes, the way he avoided smiling too widely or looking at his own reflection.
Yet, in his own way, he had grown stronger. The sickness that had plagued him for so long was gone, replaced with a physical resilience he’d never had before. He was healthier, able to stand for hours without feeling drained, able to keep up with the demands of the lab. But that strength had come at a price, and the reminder was always there—the enforcers stationed outside your apartment, the watchful eyes that followed him everywhere he went. Even at the lab, he was under constant surveillance, their eyes a constant reminder that he was no longer fully trusted.
And then there was you. The pain in your leg was a relentless, unwelcome companion, one that left you frustrated, refusing to rely on the cane you knew you needed. You missed the freedom of movement, the confidence you once had. Every step reminded you of the limitations, and you could feel the anger simmering just beneath the surface, anger at the vampire who’d done this, at the world, even, sometimes, at Viktor for reminding you of what you’d lost.
But when you looked into Viktor’s eyes, when you felt his arms around you, that anger faded, replaced by a fierce determination to be there for him, just as he was for you. You both needed each other, more than ever.
As you leaned back against his chest, Viktor’s arms tightened around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. He was silent for a moment, just holding you, and you could feel the subtle tension in his body, as if he had something on his mind.
“There’s a… party this weekend,” he said finally, his voice hesitant. “One of the council members is hosting it. They want me to be there, but I… I won’t go if you’re not coming.”
You took a deep breath, biting your lip as you weighed his words. The idea of a crowded event, of being surrounded by people, the inevitable questions, the looks—none of it appealed to you. And yet, you knew how much this meant to him, how much he needed your support. It was his first real public appearance since the transformation, and though he’d never say it, you could tell he was nervous.
“Do you… want to go?” you asked, turning slightly to look up at him, your gaze meeting his.
He hesitated, his red eyes flickering with something vulnerable. “Only if you’re with me,” he said softly. “I can handle the stares, the questions… but I don’t want to do it alone. Not without you.”
You reached up, brushing a hand along his cheek, feeling the familiar warmth beneath your fingertips. His hand came up to cover yours, holding it gently, as if afraid you might pull away. The subtle red in his eyes, the faint glint of his fangs as he spoke—these were all reminders of the change, but they didn’t scare you. They were part of him now, just as much as the man you’d fallen in love with.
After a long moment, you nodded. “I’ll go with you,” you said quietly, your voice steady. “If you want to be there, I’ll be there with you.”
The relief in his expression was palpable, his grip on your hand tightening as he pulled you even closer. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “For staying… for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You leaned into his embrace, letting the warmth of his words wash over you. Despite everything, despite the pain and the challenges, you knew that this was where you both belonged—together, finding strength in each other, one day at a time.
—
The lab was alive with the familiar hum of machinery, the faint scent of metal and ozone filling the air as Viktor and Jayce huddled over a collection of blueprints and prototypes spread across the table. The hextech core, their shared obsession and the key to their work, glowed faintly between them, casting a cool, ethereal light over their faces.
Jayce tapped a finger against one of the blueprints, his brow furrowing as he studied the design. “You can’t possibly think that would work,” he said, casting a skeptical look in Viktor’s direction.
Viktor, unperturbed, adjusted his goggles and tilted his head, studying the hextech core with a keen, almost reverent gaze. “I’m saying it’s worth a try, Jayce. We’ve exhausted the more conventional approaches. Maybe a… less traditional method will yield something.”
Jayce crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Less traditional, huh? Like throwing caution to the wind and just seeing what sticks?”
Viktor gave a slight, amused smile. “Something like that.”
Jayce rolled his eyes but leaned forward, studying the core more closely. “All right, fine. But combining it with some other element? We’re not just talking about amplifying power here, Viktor. We’re talking about potentially unstable results, especially if it reacts poorly.”
“Precisely,” Viktor murmured, his mind racing as he turned the core over in his hands. “But if we could stabilize it… think about the applications. Energy that could revolutionize everyday life, a source of power that could improve accessibility for all kinds of people. More efficient, more durable. Something truly transformative.”
Jayce’s skepticism softened a little, his gaze shifting from the core to Viktor. “You really think this could be it, don’t you? The next step in hextech?”
Viktor nodded, his eyes gleaming with a quiet intensity. “Imagine a hextech device that could adapt to its user, that could help those who struggle with mobility, sight, or strength. It wouldn’t just be a tool; it would be a part of them. Empowering, not controlling.”
Jayce’s gaze dropped back to the core, the seed of interest clearly taking root. “That does sound… incredible,” he admitted, though there was still a hint of doubt in his voice. “But to get there, we’d need a material strong enough to withstand the energy fluctuations while still being flexible.”
Viktor nodded thoughtfully, his mind already racing through possible solutions. “True. We’d need something that can handle extreme stress without compromising the user’s safety or mobility.” He paused, his brow furrowing in thought. “Perhaps… something organic? Or partially organic. The problem with pure metal is that it limits flexibility and precision.”
“Partially organic?” Jayce echoed, blinking in surprise. “Are you suggesting a hybrid material?”
Viktor shrugged, his fingers tracing patterns in the dust on the table as he spoke, his mind a whirlwind of ideas. “It’s not entirely unheard of. The human body is essentially a collection of organic materials working together with remarkable efficiency. Why not replicate that balance in our design?”
Jayce snorted, but there was a glint of excitement in his eyes. “So now you want to build a synthetic organism, too?”
“Not a full organism,” Viktor replied, a touch of exasperation in his voice. “But a material that can mimic the body’s adaptability and resilience. Something that can respond to the user’s needs in real time.”
Jayce leaned back, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “But even if we could figure out the material, there’s still the issue of integrating it with the hextech core itself. Combining two different energy sources could be volatile.”
Viktor smiled faintly, the spark of an idea beginning to take shape. “What if we used the hextech as a kind of catalyst? Not the primary power source, but something that enhances the natural energy within the material.”
Jayce’s brow furrowed, his mind turning over the possibilities. “So the hextech would amplify the organic properties, like a booster?”
Viktor nodded, his excitement building as he spoke. “Exactly. It would be less invasive, more in tune with the body’s natural rhythms. Think about what that could mean for prosthetics, for example. Devices that respond as seamlessly as a real limb, that adapt and strengthen over time. It could be life-changing.
Jayce was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the hextech core as he processed the idea. “All right, so let’s say we somehow manage to stabilize this… hybrid material. How do we test it?”
Viktor’s expression turned serious, the weight of the challenge settling over him. “We’d need to find a way to monitor the energy flow, to ensure that the hextech doesn’t overwhelm the organic component. But if we can do that…” he replied, his voice quiet.
He let the words hang in the air, the possibilities stretching out before them, vast and uncharted. Jayce nodded slowly, clearly intrigued by the potential of Viktor’s vision.
“This is ambitious—and dangerous,” Jayce admitted, glancing over at Viktor with a mixture of admiration and caution. “But then, you’ve always been ambitious.”
Viktor gave a small, self-deprecating smile. “Ambition isn’t always a bad thing, is it?”
Jayce laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Not when it comes from the right place. And I think you’re onto something here. But we’re going to need a lot of resources to make this work—materials, prototypes, testing… We’re talking months, maybe years of development.”
Viktor nodded, unperturbed by the daunting timeline. “I’m willing to put in the work. We both are, aren’t we?”
Jayce grinned, a hint of the old, infectious enthusiasm returning to his eyes. “Hell yeah, we are. Besides, who else would I want as a partner on something this crazy?”
They shared a rare, genuine smile, the camaraderie between them rekindled by the shared sense of purpose. For all their differences, for all the disagreements and setbacks, this was why they worked together—this shared vision, this drive to create something that could change the world for the better.
Jayce leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face as he considered their next steps. “So, where do we start? We’re going to need a lot more data on organic materials. Something durable but responsive.”
Viktor nodded, already flipping through the stack of papers and sketches scattered across the table. “There’s some research on flexible bio-metals in the archives. And I know of a few labs that have been experimenting with synthetic nerve tissues. If we can combine their properties with the hextech…”
Jayce’s eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Then we just might have a shot.”
They worked in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their thoughts as they sifted through data, sketches, and formulas. Every now and then, Viktor would jot down a note or make a quick calculation, his mind racing with possibilities. Jayce watched him, a sense of admiration growing as he saw the focus and determination in Viktor’s gaze.
After a while, Jayce broke the silence, his voice soft but thoughtful. “You know, Viktor… you’re not just doing this for the science, are you?”
Viktor glanced up, surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”
Jayce shrugged, a knowing look in his eyes. “You talk about improving lives, helping people, creating something that could change the world. But I think… I think there’s more to it than that for you.”
Viktor was silent for a moment, his gaze dropping back to the hextech core in his hands. “Perhaps,” he admitted quietly. “I suppose… I know what it’s like to feel limited, to have a body that doesn’t do what you need it to. If I can create something that eases that struggle, that gives people back a sense of freedom… then maybe it’s worth it.”
Jayce nodded, a look of respect in his eyes. “I get it. And honestly? I’m with you on this, Viktor. Let’s see how far we can push this thing. Together.”
Viktor met Jayce’s gaze, a flicker of gratitude passing over his face. He wasn’t one to show emotions easily, but in that moment, he felt a surge of appreciation for his friend, for the support and trust that had sustained their partnership through countless challenges.
“Thank you, Jayce,” he said quietly. “For believing in this.”
Jayce grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh, don’t thank me yet. We still have to make it work.”
—
The practice room buzzed with the usual chatter and hustle as you finished your session with the crew, the notes of your violin still lingering in the air as you put it down. The familiar routine of rehearsals and the comfort of music always helped ease your mind, giving you a momentary escape from the worries that had been creeping in lately. You were glad you’d come; it felt good to play, to be part of something steady, a rhythm that didn’t ask too much of you, didn’t remind you of the things you’d lost or the new insecurities you were fighting.
The rehearsal wrapped up, and you packed up your violin, the room gradually emptying as everyone trickled out. You’d just slung the violin case over your shoulder when a familiar voice made you turn.
“I heard you were coming to the Kiramman’s party.”
Claire stood there, arms crossed, her gaze sharp and assessing as it lingered on you. She hadn’t exactly been the friendliest toward you, and her appearance here now felt deliberate, her words carrying a weight that hinted at more than just small talk.
You nodded, choosing your words carefully. “Yes, I am.”
“Oh, are you…?” She paused, her lips curving into a knowing smile that made you instantly wary. “You’re coming with Viktor?”
“Yes,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral, though you could feel your pulse quickening, a hint of irritation creeping in at her tone. “Why?”
She tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “Oh, I thought he’d pick someone from his… league by now.”
The words hit you like a slap, cold and unexpected. You blinked, taken aback, but you quickly tried to brush it off, refusing to give her the reaction she was clearly hoping for. “I’m sorry?”
She shrugged, as if the comment had been nothing more than an idle observation, her gaze still fixed on you with that same sharpness. “Oh, so you’re still together then,” she said, her voice laced with a mock sympathy that only fueled the knot of tension in your chest. “Pity.”
The implication was clear, each word sinking in like a tiny, well-placed barb. You could feel the anger bubbling up, the instinct to defend yourself and Viktor against her assumptions, but you bit your tongue, forcing yourself to stay calm.
“Why would it be a pity?” you managed, your voice colder than you’d intended.
Claire gave you a long, appraising look, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in your reaction. “Well, I just thought…” She hesitated, feigning innocence, though you could see the satisfaction flickering in her gaze. “I thought he might want to be with someone who understands him a little better now, that’s all. Someone who… lives forever. You know?”
You swallowed, her words sinking deeper, twisting in ways that left a dull ache in your chest. Part of you wanted to brush her off, to shrug it off as nothing more than petty jealousy, but her words hit a nerve, stirring up insecurities you’d been trying to keep buried.
“You don’t know Viktor,” you said quietly, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “We’re together because we care about each other, not because of what we are.”
Claire raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “Are you sure about that?” she asked, her tone almost pitying. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he loves you. But love doesn’t change the fact that he’s… different now. Forever, actually.”
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle in, watching you carefully, as if gauging how much of her message was getting through.
“Maybe he’s not thinking about it now,” she continued, her voice softening slightly, as if she were offering advice rather than criticism. “But one day, he will. One day, he’ll realize that he doesn’t have to limit himself to… well, to the human experience anymore.”
Her gaze flicked pointedly to your leg, lingering just long enough to drive the point home.
The implication stung, dredging up the insecurities you’d tried so hard to bury since Viktor’s transformation. You’d been fighting to keep those fears at bay, to trust that your relationship was strong enough to withstand the changes, but Claire’s words struck at the heart of your doubts, leaving you feeling raw and exposed.
“I’m not… holding him back,” you said, though the words felt weak, uncertain, even to your own ears.
Claire shrugged again, her expression almost pitying. “Maybe you’re not now. But one day, he’ll want more. And you’ll have to decide whether you’re willing to let him have it.”
The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, settling in your mind with a finality that left you feeling hollow. You tried to shake it off, to remind yourself that Claire didn’t know Viktor, that she couldn’t possibly understand what you shared, but the doubts had already taken root, lingering in the back of your mind like a slow, insidious poison.
Without another word, Claire turned and walked away, leaving you alone with the echo of her words, her parting glance a final, silent jab that left you reeling.
—
The soft glow of the evening settled over your apartment as you slipped on your dress, adjusting the fabric and inspecting your reflection in the mirror. Tonight was important for Viktor — it was more than a social event; it was a milestone. Since his release from the facility, he hadn’t attended anything quite so grand or public, and you could tell it weighed on him.
As you adjusted the delicate straps of your dress, you caught Viktor’s reflection standing behind you, pulling his sleeves into place and carefully fastening each button. He was dressed sharply, his hair smoothed down and his posture straighter than usual. Yet his gaze was distant, a flicker of nerves clouding his eyes as he adjusted his collar for the fourth time.
Turning to face him, you took a step closer and rested a hand on his shoulder, watching him tense and then relax under your touch. “You know, it’s not going to be that bad, right?” you said softly, your voice laced with encouragement.
Viktor glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he tried to shrug it off. “Yes, yes — just nervous.”
But his answer didn’t fool you; you could sense there was more to his unease than simple nerves. He looked at you, his gaze lingering, and something in his expression made your heart skip. Before you could ask him about it, he closed the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was gentle at first, then deeper, more insistent, as if he were pouring a quiet desperation into it.
You felt a flutter in your chest, the heat of his touch surprising you but drawing you in all the same. Your hands slipped around his waist, pulling him closer, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Viktor’s hand trailed to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, a quiet intensity building between you.
After a moment, he pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your skin. He held your gaze, his eyes shadowed with something you couldn’t quite place. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as if he didn’t want to let go.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked softly, your voice laced with concern.
Viktor hesitated, his eyes searching yours before he managed a faint smile. “I am,” he murmured, but his hand tightened ever so slightly on your waist, as if anchoring himself. “I just… I don’t want to make a fool of myself tonight.”
You chuckled, the warmth in his gaze making your heart swell. “You could never make a fool of yourself,” you assured him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re going to be amazing, Viktor. Everyone will see what I see.”
His eyes softened, his fingers grazing along your cheek with a tenderness that made your breath catch. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if he were speaking a truth too fragile to say aloud.
He kissed you again, slower this time, his lips lingering as if he were savoring the moment. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel his heart pounding in time with yours. The world outside seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in the quiet warmth of each other’s presence.
After a moment, he pulled back, his hand still resting on your waist as he gazed at you with a mix of admiration and something deeper, something that tugged at the edges of your heart. “I… I don’t say it often,” he began, his voice faltering slightly, “but I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
You felt a warmth spread through you, a quiet happiness that came from knowing just how much you meant to him. Smiling, you placed a hand over his, squeezing gently. “And I don’t know where I’d be without you,” you replied, your voice soft. “We’ve always been together, haven’t we?”
He nodded, a hint of relief easing the tension in his expression. “Yes… always.”
—
The atmosphere at the Kiramman party was electric. The warm lights cast a glow over the grand hall, and the murmur of laughter and conversation filled the space as you stood with Viktor, Jayce, Mel, and Caitlyn. Even with the initial excitement, your leg was already protesting the long hours of standing. You’d brought your cane along but tried to lean against it subtly, hoping to mask the pain that was slowly creeping in.
Caitlyn, ever perceptive, gave you a look, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you doing okay?” she asked, voice low enough so only you could hear.
You gave a reassuring nod, managing a small smile. “I’m fine, thanks,” you replied, though the ache in your leg said otherwise.
Viktor, however, was harder to read tonight. He was unusually fidgety, his fingers tapping against his glass, eyes darting to Jayce every now and then. When he noticed you watching him, he looked down quickly, almost as if he’d been caught. Jayce raised a brow at Viktor with a knowing smirk, but didn’t say anything, making the whole interaction feel even stranger.
Amid the lively discussions about hextech and advancements in Piltover, Viktor suddenly leaned close, his voice a touch uncertain. “Do you want something from the bar?”
The question caught you off guard, but you welcomed the distraction. “Uh—I could use a hugo.”
Without another word, Viktor nodded and hurried off towards the bar, his shoulders tense, leaving you with the others. Jayce, who had been watching Viktor with a mixture of amusement and sympathy, turned to you with a small grin, his eyebrows raised.
“What?” you asked, puzzled, but he just shook his head, his smile saying more than words could.
Jayce’s smirk lingered a moment longer, and you couldn’t help but wonder what was going on with Viktor tonight. He had seemed on edge, more so than usual, and while you wanted to brush it off as pre-party nerves, something about his behavior felt different. And then there were those subtle glances he kept exchanging with Jayce. It was as if Viktor was working up to something, or maybe he just needed a moment to take the edge off.
Meanwhile, across the room, Viktor was at the bar, his shoulders visibly easing as he downed a quick shot of vodka, then another, clearly hoping to settle his nerves. He never drinked like this. The burn must have helped because he took a deep breath, visibly relaxing as the bartender set about mixing your drink.
Just then, Esma, one of Viktor’s colleagues from the lab, approached him with a smile. Her striking red dress and piercing gaze gave her an air of elegance that immediately drew attention. “Viktor,” she greeted warmly, “we haven’t caught up in a while.”
“Oh—Esma,” Viktor replied, his voice light as he turned to her, but his usual guardedness softened under the influence of the alcohol. “It’s been… busy.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed,” she replied with a coy smile, leaning in slightly. “You’ve been making quite the impression these days. Working on any new projects?”
“Well,” he started, glancing down at his empty shot glass before looking back at her, “it’s still early stages, but yes, Jayce and I have… something in the works.” He gestured for another shot, downing it before he could think twice, and you could tell from across the room that his inhibitions were starting to lower.
Esma’s smile lingered as she watched him, her gaze lingering a beat too long. “I’m sure it’s something remarkable. You’ve always had that drive. It’s rare, you know.” Her tone held a warmth that was almost… flirtatious.
A pang of something bitter twisted in your chest as you watched them. It wasn’t like you to feel this way, yet Claire’s words had been gnawing at you for days now, tainting your thoughts in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Maybe she had a point, you thought reluctantly. Viktor’s new status, his abilities, his longevity — it felt like a widening chasm between you two, one that was hard to ignore. You hated feeling this insecure, but it was as if her words had planted a seed that was growing despite your efforts to stamp it out.
You tried to shake it off, but the hurt in your chest only grew. You needed air, a moment to clear your head. Without another word to the others, you quietly slipped away, making your way to the open balcony where the cool evening air brushed against your skin, a welcome relief from the crowded hall. The night sky stretched out before you, the stars scattered like tiny diamonds against the deep blue canvas. It was beautiful, yet you felt strangely hollow, a sense of unease settling in your stomach.
It wasn’t long before the faint sound of footsteps reached you, and you turned to see Viktor standing in the doorway, a glass in his hand. He hesitated, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. “You… left,” he said softly, stepping closer and holding out the drink.
You took it with a small smile, though the weight of your thoughts still lingered. “Just needed some fresh air,” you replied, taking a sip and feeling the refreshing taste of the hugo wash over you before setting it down on a table.
Viktor stood beside you, his gaze following yours as he looked out at the cityscape. There was a silence between you, not uncomfortable but heavy with words unspoken. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Are you… alright?” His hand moved to rest on the balcony railing, fingers brushing close to yours.
You took a breath, considering his question. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just—thinking.”
His brow furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “About?”
You hesitated, unsure if you should share what was truly on your mind. But the vulnerability in his gaze, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, made it hard to hold back. “It’s… probably nothing,” you began, your voice faltering slightly. “I just… I’ve been thinking about us, about… everything.”
Viktor’s grip tightened on the railing, and you noticed the subtle tension in his posture. “You don’t have to worry,” he murmured, his voice low. “You mean everything to me. I know things have… changed, but that hasn’t.”
You felt a warmth spread through you, a reassurance that eased the ache in your chest. He reached for your hand, his fingers cool against yours, and held it tightly, as if grounding himself in the connection between you.
Before you could respond, though, you heard Jayce calling from behind, his voice laced with good-natured exasperation. “There you two are! Come on, they’re about to start the toast. You’re both missing out.”
Viktor shot you a small smile, his fingers lingering on yours as if reluctant to let go.
“Shall we?”
You nodded but you were still looking out over the city with an expression Viktor couldn’t read. He took a few steps forward, reaching out tentatively before stopping, something uncertain flickering in his eyes.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice a low murmur, his gaze searching yours.
You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah,” you replied, though the word felt heavy on your tongue, the weight of what you’d been feeling all evening pressing harder against your chest.
Viktor’s lips quirked up, his eyes softening. He leaned in, closing the small distance between you, but when he went to press a quick kiss to your lips, you instinctively pulled back. The hurt in his eyes was immediate, and he chuckled nervously, trying to hide his disappointment.
“You say that you’re okay,” he murmured, his voice slightly strained, “but then you do… this.”
For a moment, you just looked at him, taking in every detail: the crimson hue of his irises, the gleam of his fangs when he spoke, his posture straighter, stronger. He looked so different, yet so unmistakably him. It was everything he had always wanted — strength, vitality, a body that didn’t betray him at every step. And while you wanted to feel only pride and joy for him, you couldn’t deny the other emotions that simmered beneath the surface.
You wanted him to be happy, to have this life that had been stolen from him for so long. But when you looked at him now, the gap between you felt insurmountable. He was practically immortal, untouched by the limits you were now feeling so acutely in yourself.
“Viktor…” you began, voice catching as you struggled to find the words.
His brows knit together, a flash of fear passing over his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch your arm, but you didn’t meet his gaze, afraid he’d see everything you were feeling.
“I love you so much,” you finally said, your voice breaking. “So much it hurts, Viktor. But… maybe you’d be better off without me.”
His hand froze mid-air, and for a second, he looked as if you’d struck him. He blinked, his mouth opening slightly before he closed it, his expression tight. “You’re… not serious,” he whispered, the words barely escaping him as he searched your face, looking for any hint that you were joking.
But you held his gaze, your silence an answer in itself.
“You’re not thinking clearly,” he said, his voice growing more desperate, his hands reaching for yours, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re tired, you’re… frustrated. But that’s all it is.”
You let out a trembling breath, glancing down at your intertwined hands, his touch grounding you even as your heart ached. “Viktor, this isn’t… I’m not just tired,” you said, your voice shaking. “It’s that— I will die one day, Viktor. And it’s not fair to you. You deserve someone who can be with you forever.”
“And it was fair to you?” he shot back, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard it. “When I was dying, when we first got into the relationship, you knew that I would die, probably within a few years. And yet you stayed. You knew I couldn’t give you a future, you still…” His voice cracked, and he looked down, his hand slipping from yours as he pressed it against his forehead, closing his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to look at you.
“It was different,” you whispered, swallowing hard. The words sounded hollow even to your own ears.
He let out a bitter laugh, one that was full of hurt and frustration. “Different?” he repeated, his voice shaking. “How was it different? Tell me, please, because I am struggling to understand.”
You opened your mouth to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. In truth, you weren’t sure how to explain it. When you’d first got into a relationship with him, he’d been so frail, so full of life and ambition despite his limitations. You’d fallen in love with him knowing his time was limited, that every day with him was a gift you could lose at any moment. And now… he was the one who would live on, untouched by age or illness, while you were bound by the inevitabilities of your human existence.
“It’s because… you have forever now, Viktor,” you managed, your voice barely a whisper. “You have this chance, this life ahead of you. I don’t want to hold you back from that.”
Viktor’s gaze softened, the anger fading as he stepped closer, his hands finding your shoulders, his grip firm as he forced you to look at him. “You were never— you could never hold me back,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. Don’t you see that? You’ve been with me through everything — you are my future. None of this means anything if I don’t have you by my side.”
His words cut through your resolve, and you felt a surge of tears well up, your chest tightening as you looked at him, his red eyes glistening with a desperation you’d never seen before. He was breaking, and it shattered you to see him like this, so vulnerable, so raw.
“I thought…” you began, your voice choked as you struggled to find the right words. “I thought maybe… you’d be better off with someone… someone like you.”
A flicker of pain crossed his face, and he looked down, his fingers tightening on your shoulders. “So that’s what this is about,” he murmured, a trace of bitterness in his tone. “You think I want… that I’d prefer someone else?”
You shook your head, feeling the tears slip down your cheeks. “It’s just — it’s hard,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I see you now, and you’re everything you’ve always wanted to be. And I want to be happy for you, but I can’t help but feel like… like you deserve more.”
He let out a shaky breath, his own eyes glistening as he looked at you, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I am everything I wanted to be. Stronger, healthier… but without you, none of it means anything. I never… I never wanted immortality. I wanted a life with you, even if it was short. That was enough for me.” His voice broke, and you saw the first tear slip down his cheek, his hand trembling against your skin. “Please… don’t take that away from me,” he whispered, his gaze pleading as he held you, as if he were afraid you’d slip through his fingers.
You couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped you, your heart breaking as you reached up, covering his hand with yours, leaning into his touch. “Viktor… I don’t want to lose you,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion. “But I’m so afraid. Afraid that one day, I’ll be gone, and you’ll… you’ll regret staying with me.”
He shook his head, his gaze fierce as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breaths shaky as he clung to you. “I would never regret loving you,” he whispered, his voice full of conviction. “No matter what happens, no matter how much time we have… I want to spend it with you. Don’t you understand? You’re the only one I want.”
You felt the weight of his words settle over you, and for a moment, the fear and doubt melted away, replaced by the warmth of his love, his unwavering devotion. He loved you, more deeply than you’d ever thought possible, and in that moment, you realized that maybe… maybe that was enough.
With a trembling breath, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, feeling his heartbeat against yours. “I love you, Viktor,” you whispered, the words spilling from your lips like a confession. “I don’t want to leave you..but—“
He let out a shuddering sigh, his arms tightening around you as if he could hold you there forever. “Then stay,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Please… stay.”
You drew in a shaky breath, feeling as if the words that had settled like stones in your throat would shatter everything around you. “I really don’t want you to regret us,” you whispered, struggling to keep your voice steady. Viktor’s eyes softened, and without hesitation, he cupped your face with both hands, gently but firmly guiding you to meet his gaze. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping away the tears that had already started to fall.
“How could I even—love, listen to me once and for all,” he murmured, his voice steady yet filled with such raw tenderness it made your heart ache. His eyes, normally so focused and intense, were now wide open, inviting you to see every inch of his soul. “I could never regret us. You are… everything.”
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was filled only by the faint sounds of the party and the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. As you looked into his eyes, you realized that his feelings for you had never changed, even though so much about him had. There was a truth there, in the depths of his red eyes, that transcended everything else — that his love for you was still, and would always be, unwavering.
But before you could even find the words to respond, Viktor took a small step back, his hands falling from your face as he reached into his coat pocket. And then he pulled out a small velvet box.
The air left your lungs in an instant. You stared at it, unable to process what you were seeing as he held the box in his palm, looking down at it with a strange mixture of determination and vulnerability.
“I’d planned this for… well, longer than I’d like to admit,” he said, his voice laced with a soft, almost shy chuckle as he opened the box, revealing a delicate, glistening ring inside. “I wanted tonight to be perfect. I thought about it so many times, wondering how I would ask you. But all I knew was that I couldn’t… I didn’t want to wait any longer.”
The realization washed over you, sudden and powerful. He’d been planning to propose. He’d come here tonight with the hope of a promise, of solidifying the life you’d built together, and in return, you’d nearly torn it all apart.
A strangled laugh escaped you, and you felt a fresh wave of tears spring to your eyes as you stared at the ring. It was beautiful, simple yet elegant, and it seemed to sparkle with the same quiet strength you’d always seen in him. The mix of emotions overwhelmed you — laughter and tears blending into something that felt too big for words as you buried your face in his chest, gripping his shirt with trembling hands.
“I’m… I’m such an idiot,” you managed between sobs and laughter, your voice muffled against him. “You wanted to… you were going to propose, and I… I nearly ruined it. Viktor, I…” He held you tightly, one hand resting on the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he let you ride out the storm of emotions. “No, no,” he murmured soothingly, his voice a soft balm against the rawness of your guilt and regret. “You didn’t ruin anything. I understand, love. I understand more than you know.”
You looked up at him, your eyes still brimming with tears, but his expression was filled with nothing but warmth and understanding. He took your hands, guiding them up to his chest, pressing them over his heart so you could feel the steady, reassuring beat.
“I know you’re afraid,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And… I know I’m asking for a lot. For you to share your life with someone who will outlive everyone else around him, who’s been changed in ways neither of us fully understand. But please, please believe me when I say that none of that matters. What matters is you, and everything we’ve built together. I would never regret us. Ever.”
You felt another tear slip down your cheek as you reached up, brushing your fingers along the edge of his face. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly, as if savoring the warmth of your skin against his. And in that moment, you felt a surge of clarity, a sudden certainty that cut through the lingering doubts and fears.
“I want that too,” you whispered, your voice steadying as the weight of your decision settled over you. “I want… all of it. With you.”
Viktor’s eyes opened, his gaze locking onto yours, and you saw the flicker of relief and joy that passed over his face. He lifted the ring from the box, holding it delicately between his fingers as he looked at you with a question in his eyes, a silent plea for confirmation. “Then—Will you marry me?” he asked softly, his voice almost trembling as he held his breath, waiting for your answer.
You nodded, a smile breaking through the lingering tears. “Yes. God—yes. Viktor, I want to be with you. For as long as we have.”
He let out a shaky breath, a relieved, disbelieving laugh escaping him as he slipped the ring onto your finger. His hands were trembling, and you could feel the way he was fighting to hold back his own emotions as he gazed at the ring, his thumb brushing over it gently once it was in place.
When he looked back up at you, his eyes were glistening, the raw vulnerability in them something he’d only ever shown to you. He cupped your face again, his fingers gentle as he wiped away the last remnants of your tears. “I love you,” he whispered, the words soft and reverent, as if he were speaking a sacred truth. “More than anything in this world.”
Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was gentle, yet filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. You melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed yourself closer, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over you, grounding you in the certainty of his love.
The kiss deepened, and for a few precious moments, there was nothing else — no doubts, no fears, just the quiet, unshakable truth of your love for each other. When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling as you leaned your forehead against his, you felt a sense of peace settle over you, as if all the pieces had finally fallen into place.
“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. “There’s no need to thank me,” he replied softly. “Just… be here with me. That’s all I’ll ever need.”
You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle over you, and you knew, without a doubt, that this was where you were meant to be.
A/N: I still haven’t finished part 3, but part 4 is done lmao😭, since it’s just smut and maybe I’ll post it?? (I don’t know if I should or not lmao)
#vampire au#fanfiction#arcane#vampire viktor#viktor league of legends#viktor x reader#viktor x you#arcane jayce#jayce x mel#angst#mel arcane#fluff#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane
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jake oettinger pregame — DAL vs PIT — 11.11.24
[there’s gonna be different challenges, this seems like a pretty good one for you guys.] yeah, i think, uh … it’s all about how you respond when you, you know, don’t feel like you played your best as a group, and you know — we’ve been great at that the last few years, so, you know. you’re gonna get kicked down a lot in this league. and, um, you know, it’s all about how you come back the next game, and don’t let it happen two nights in a row. [how do you do that? ‘cause you've done — as a team, you’ve done that very well.] yeah, i think just — i mean, i think experience, first and foremost, i think having gone through it and — you know. knowing that, you know. tough times won’t last, and it’s not as bad as you think it is. um, just having gone through it, i think, just, you know, keep plugging away, and we know we’re a good team in here. and once we, you know, get our game to where we want it to be, you know, we’re gonna be hard to beat and … i think, just, the maturity is in here, and hopefully we can show that tonight.
#hockey#stars#dallas stars#jake oettinger#kicked down is not like. actually a phrase in most common vernaculars for the record. but he's been kicked down SO much#z:edit
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GOOD MAYOMORNING FRIENDSSS!!!! 🧡🧡🧡
so so sorry for being ia lately waaaah (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ stuffs been tough lately BUT!!! IM ALMOST DONE AND I HAVE A WIP TO SHOW YOU!!!
LOOK AT ALL OF THESE!!! im going back fr...
#like when see!!#how are you guys!!! hopefully all is well!#finals been doing funky to me but ill manage#i miss you all so so much it feels different when i dont check tumblr all day long#I DIDN'T GO TO TUMBLR FOR 2 DAYS BUT IT FEELS LIKE FOREVER I MISS YOU GUYS SOOO MUCH#also interact with me guys i want to know about your day!!! smiles at you#sunflawyer forever btw i haven't drawn them for a week and i feel empty and hollow#sunflawyer#self ship#self insert#f/o community#🐤mayo's diary#mayo.txt
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