#i’m so miserable every time i think of this. send me to the universe that contains the peedee cut !!!

[nicespam1]

once in a while i think about the steven peedee connie friendship trio that never was

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Five) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.0k / navigation / inbox

A/N: Thank you all for waiting for this chapter! I know it took me longer to finish this one than it did the others but it's the longest chapter so far, and I also had a lot of major life events go down in the time between this chapter and last. I appreciate each and every single one of you who stayed patient with me, and I hope that this chapter and that the rest to come are worth the wait :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You’re doing a terrible job at paying attention to where you’re going as you take the elevator, jamming your finger against the 12 button so hard it hurts. Pizza is on the twelfth floor, and you’re hoping Daniel will be there early like you so that you can forget about Jake and his tyrannical rule. 

It’s clear as day to you; Jake thinks he has control over you just the same way he has control over the girls that drool over him at the Hard Deck. He thinks one glance will melt your brain into mush, but it won’t. It doesn’t, and you’re not letting the cockiest man you know believe he’s won you over. Especially one that you work with. If anyone found out- if any of your fellow aviators knew that you’d succumbed to Jake’s charms… you’d risk losing the respect you’ve fought hard to earn on the tarmac. You’re not letting your career take a nosedive because Jake won’t stop bragging about getting his dick wet. He doesn’t get a say in your life if he has nothing genuine to contribute to it. You know him well enough to know that caving in and fucking would be the worst decision of your life, and you refuse to let him feel like he’s won you like a prize. You’re standing up for yourself; if he can shit-talk Daniel, you can shit-talk Miss Melons.

Your skin prickles with annoyance the more you think about the woman that had approached you both- seriously, did she not consider that she was being intrusive and rude? You assume Jake has snagged her away from her roommate by now, and they’re probably having a better time than you are. 

Everything feels unfair, down to the coincidental roommate placement. It’s like the universe had heard you needed a break, and wanted to punish you for it.

Cracking open your book helps, but it takes you a while to get into the groove. You’re sitting poolside across from the pizza place, eyes glancing from page to parlor every once in a while to check for a certain bearded man. The main lead is compelling, and your stomach soars as you imagine Daniel in a cowboy hat. You’d save that horse.

Peace is hard to find while sitting poolside on a cruise, but chaos is actually the perfect white noise for you to read, and your concentration isn’t broken until a shadow falls over your lounge chair. You glance up, but it’s not the man you’d wanted to see.

“Hey.” Jake’s already frowning, his face apprehensive like he thinks you’ll scream at him to get away. You want to, but you don’t want to cause a scene.

“What, Hangman?”

“I’m not trying to control you.” He pushes despite seeing your gaze back on your book, “I just don’t think you’re meant to be with Daniel. But I shouldn’t have given you a hassle for doing the same thing to me. I just… I do it because-”

He stops short, glancing sideways at a man running despite the clear no running sign on the lifeguard tower. You decide to help him in his moment of need.

“Because you’re used to women who let you walk all over them. Even if you’re not trying to control me, you’re used to having that control. It’s familiar for you, so you expect it, even if you don’t know you’re doing it. But I’m not like that. You can’t keep me waiting on you.”

The scoff he lets out is accompanied by an expression that looks truly pained, “That ain’t it at all. But forget it. Don’t worry about why I do it. I just thought maybe you were doin’ it to me for the same reasons. But never mind. I’ll shut up about Daniel. Truce?”

You glare up at him, book still open in your lap. He extends an uncharacteristically helping hand, and you wait a truly uncomfortable amount of time before taking it and shaking once.

“Truce.”

He takes the chair beside you, stretched out in the sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your reading time is over as his head turns to you, “So, Dudley showed up yet?”

“He’s coming for lunch.” You cling to your novel, trying desperately to ignore Jake and his instantly broken promise, “What about Melon girl, they weren’t ripe enough for you?”

“She wasn’t my type.” He starts, and there’s a heavy silence before he continues, “I don’t like a woman who thinks it’s fun to get between a couple.”

The sideways glance you send Hangman, the ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk, is lethal.

“Anyways.” He continues, tone more casual now, “Fancy a swim, darlin’?”

“I’ll read instead,” You offer, “But you have fun, Hangman.”

“Party Pooper,” He accuses, standing from the lounge chair he’s occupying and stretching briefly, “You’re an absolute mood-killer. No fun, the most boring person on this boat.”

“I’m about to be more of one: have you put sunscreen on?”

“Nope,” He grins, “You volunteering to do the honors, you sleazy thing?”

“Absolutely not. But you can use the stuff in my bag.” You nod at your tote bag, “Don’t use it all, though.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake nods, folding into a seat on the edge of the lounge chair beside yours, “So, what’s going on in that book, they boning yet?”

“Mhm.” You nod absently as Jake begins smearing sunscreen over his arms and legs, “Real sexy stuff.”

“I’ve got somethin’ sexier for you.”

“It’s a porn book, Hangman,” You clarify, in case he’s forgotten, “I’m trying to read porn. Leave me alone.”

“There’s porn right here!” He calls, arms out to show off his impressively tanned and toned chest, a thick layer of sunscreen giving it a sheen that glistens in the light. As reluctant as you are to admire anything about Jake, you can’t lie; he has a body worth ogling. But you will not ogle it.

“This porn’s better,” You hum, glancing up at Jake through your lashes, deceptively inviting, “This guy’s got a cowboy hat on.”

“I’ve got a million and one cowboy hats,” Jake insists, slowly inching towards you and away from the edge of the pool, “Is that really all it takes, darlin’? ‘Cause I can slap one on in seconds, if that’s what you’re after. ‘Even brought one with me in case my roommate was into it.”

“Mm, maybe,” You let him get closer, excitement clearly swirling in his eyes as he advances towards your chair. He doesn’t notice the shifting of your feet until it’s too late and one is shoving firmly against his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pool.

There’s not anyone in his immediate vicinity besides you, so you take the brunt of the splash, but it’s worth it.

“But I like it better when the hat’s on a real gentleman!” You call, laughter interrupting your words as Jake emerges from the pool well and truly soaked, shaking water out of his hair. He’s been thoroughly underwater trained, so he’d been able to catch his breath in time despite the surprise of it all, and there’s no real harm done besides the initial splash.

“You dirty rotten minx,” He calls, water dripping from his short hair into his eyes, “You lured me in with the promise of cowboy hat sex just to push me in the pool?”

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” You’re still laughing, but maybe this bout of giggles is only to annoy him, “That’s, like, the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe besides the cowboy hat sex thing. But you shouldn’t have gotten so close!”

He braces his elbows on the wall of the pool, the border surely burning his skin. But he stares at you regardless, “I thought you were finally givin’ in.”

“It’d take a lot more than a cowboy hat to make me give in, Jake.” You laugh, turning back to your book, “Like, a full personality transplant.”

Jake hears Danica’s words repeated back to him in his head, ‘Show, don’t tell’.

“Noted. I’ll look into one’uh those,” He quips, smile sarcastic and empty as he resorts to swimming alone, “Hey, when you’re done with that chapter, you should join me.”

“No.”

“Alright.”

You glance away from the book’s pages at Hangman’s unusual, immediate acceptance of your refusal. But he lifts himself out of the water- no stairs, no ladder, only his forearms against the deck, and your stomach sinks as you realize he might be playing a game of wills with you.

Instead, he sits beside you again, this time facing away from you, “Will you rub some sunscreen on my back?”

You want to say no. You would, if he were only asking to feel your hands on him. And maybe that’s part of it, but you also know that as much as he tans, he could burn, and his back is the only part of himself that he can’t reach. You’d want someone to do you the solid too, so you sigh and set your book aside.

“Fine. But you owe me.”

“Mhm.” He nods, passing you the sunscreen, “I’ll rub it wherever you want, Y/N.”

You whack him upside the head with the bottle, and when he hisses in pain and pitches forwards, you squirt some of the lotion onto your palm and begin applying it to the broad, tanned, muscled expanse of his back.

You’re no masseuse, but apparently you’re rubbing all the right places, because Jake lets out grunts and groans that are borderline pornographic. If they were coming from anyone else, you might have squirmed in your seat, but each one sends your eyes rolling skywards as you cover Jake’s skin in goopy sun lotion.

“Damn, you’re good.” Jake grunts as you dig into a knot beneath his shoulder blade, “Do that again?”

“I’m putting sunscreen on you, Jake, not working out muscle tension.”

“Oh, come on, just a little more?” He pleads, turning so that he can glance at you from the side of his gaze, eyes shining in prayer.

You dig extra hard into his muscle, and you take some sort of wicked pleasure in the way that his resulting groan is more of a pained yelp than something of enjoyment. 

“There, Hangman.” You whack the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, “You’re all oiled up.”

“Aren’t you glad you were the one to get to do it?” Jake grins blindingly, and you bury your nose in your book again to avoid answering his question.

“Oh, you can stick your face in that book all you want,” Jake drawls, and you hear the displacement of the water he steps in as he lowers himself into the pool, gracefully and by choice this time, “But I know you liked having your hands all over me, darlin’.”

You want to gripe something back- something witty and cutting that will tear him down where he stands, but he’s turned away from you, already submerging himself to begin swimming laps. You admire his dedication to exercise even while on vacation- you have no plans to visit the gym in the lower decks.

Jake sees the diving board just as you do, and you keep him in your peripheral vision as he climbs out of the pool to make his way up the ladder. Your novel is begging to be read, but your eyes stick firm on one fitting word- ‘abdomen’ so that you can watch Jake from the corner of your eye as he prepares to dive.

Fortunately, you don’t need to continue the ruse of reading because Jake bellows from across the deck, “Y/N, look!”

You’re met with a grin when you look up at him, his arms raised above his head and joined flush together in diving position, “I’m gonna dive- watch me.”

“I’m watching.” You call, injecting your voice with as much disinterest as you can manage without feeling guilty, “This feels like babysitting, Hangman.”

He dives instead of quipping back, and it’s an impressive one, not that you’ll sing his praises for it. He comes up on the side of the pool closest to you, arms flinging an arc of water onto the concrete before you.

“Was it good?” He asks, panting slightly, hanging onto the wall.

“Yes,” You reply, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you condescend to him, “You did so good, honey.”

“Shut up,” He sends a wave of water splashing over your sandals, and you can’t be mad at him after all the teasing you’ve been inflicting upon him.

“I’ve been workin’ on my diving,” He goes back to swimming around, this time more casual as he keeps his head above the water to speak with you, “My nieces back home are learnin’ to swim so I’ve been in the pool a lot lately. Anytime they drag me in there I dive in and splash them.”

His arms cut through the water with strength and ease, confident strokes as you mull over his words. The image of Jake urging a toddler in floaties to cross a 3-foot gap into his arms is- endearing, not that you’ll admit it. You hum in acknowledgement, and tuck back into your book.

There’s not many people in the pool this early- most are probably still in bed with a hangover and a mess to clean up - and it’s large to boot, so there’s plenty of room. Your eyes drift left and catch sight of a jacuzzi, and suddenly your beach chair seems to pale in comparison.

Okay, you won’t join Jake in the pool, but you’ll relax for a couple of minutes in the jacuzzi. Just until Daniel gets here.

Jake doesn’t notice that you’ve stood until your chair is empty, and you have a perfect view of him floundering, scanning the entire deck until he spots you half-submerged in the hot tub.

You get to laugh at him again, and he grants you a good-natured grin instead of getting annoyed.

“I thought you’d finally found what’s-his-name,” Jake swims over to the separation wall that keeps the hot water parted from the cold, “Mind if I join you, Y/N?”

“Only if you’re- careful!” You shriek, trying desperately to protect the pages of your book from his sopping wet skin as he scales the barrier, “Hangman, if this book gets wet, you’re replacing it for me.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll take you on a shopping spree, relax. Hey, if I’m buyin’ you porn books, doesn’t that make me somethin’ like a sugar daddy?”

“You’re not getting any sugar,” You shrug, “But sure.”

“Just call me daddy, Y/N.” He grins, “That’s all the sugar I need.”

You hide behind your book so that he can’t see the way your face wrinkles into a grimace. The heat from the jacuzzi spreads inexplicably quick all of a sudden, warming your neck, your ears, your face, and Jake lets out a thick, heavy groan as he settles into the warm water.

“This is nice.” He muses, eyes closed, “Real relaxing.”

“It’s less relaxing when someone’s talking the whole time,” You peek across the side of your book, “Shut up, maybe?”

Jake snorts, leaning his head back against the edge of the pool, “Alright, alright your majesty. I’ll stay silent.”

You don’t verbally thank him, but you don’t make a scene when his leg drifts across the jet currents of the jacuzzi to brush against yours.

You cover a good chunk of your novel before a voice calls your name, and this time it’s the two people you’d been hoping to see all morning. Danica waves giddily at you and Jake, who’s picked his head up from where you thought he’d fallen asleep and is already mad-dogging Daniel. You wave back to Danica, and cast a quick glance down at your bathing suit before standing to greet Daniel. It’s just as tight and showy as you prefer it to be. 

You pay no attention to Jake where he gets out behind you, too focused on Daniel to care. But perhaps you should have, because you’re two steps from meeting Daniel in the middle when Jake’s strong arm shoves you sideways, and your book is wrenched from your grasp as you fall sideways into the pool.

It’s cold, colder even because you’d been soaking in the hot tub. You’re surprised, but you suppose you can’t even really be mad at him considering it’s just payback for what he’d done to you.

You’ve barely righted yourself in the water before there’s another splash beside you, and when you finally emerge there’s hands reaching for your waist, Daniel’s as you realize he’d jumped in to help you. 

“You-!” You splutter at Jake with bleary, chlorine-soaked eyes, attention split between Daniel who’s trying to ensure you’re alright, and Jake who’s snickering while holding your book in his thankfully dry hand.

“You asshole.” Daniel finishes for you, “She could have drowned!”

“I know how to swim,” You brace a hand on Daniel’s chest- startlingly bare, but riddled with coarse, brown hair, “It’s fine, I- I pushed him in earlier.”

“Relax, Prince Charming. It’s just a bit of payback. And look,” Jake waves your novel in front of you, “Dry as a bone.”

“Well I am- uh, not.” You stand half-submerged in the pool, Daniel still holding onto your waist, “So, I guess I will go swimming.”

“Great. You can swim with us.” Daniel smiles, warm and inviting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Yeah, us.” Jake agrees, taking Danica’s towel and spreading it over a sunny lounge chair for her.

Jake helps lower Danica gently into the pool, holding her hand while she takes the stairs, before jumping in beside you so that you’re splashed by the wave he creates.

“You are an asshole,” You laugh, breaking away from Daniel’s grip to shove at Jake’s shoulder. The grins on your faces are bright and genuine, perhaps the first time you’ve both been able to laugh with each other the entire trip. It feels nice, and you don’t fight when he shoves back at you with strong arms.

“Hey- hey!” Danica shouts, standing behind Daniel with a hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you turn that pushing and shoving into a game of chicken?”

“I’m down,” Daniel seems thrilled to be opposite Jake as he lowers himself for Danica to climb atop his shoulders, “Y/N, you okay on his shoulders?”

Jake does the honors himself, dunking himself under the water and coming up between your legs. You barely have time to plant your hands on the top of his head, fingers twisting instinctively into his hair as you accidentally tug it while he stands at his full height again.

“Shit, sorry Hangman.” You let go of his hair, hoping you hadn’t yanked too hard. He’s forgiven, for now, so you won’t resort to childish things like hair-pulling.

“That’s okay, darlin’.” He grins, craning his neck back to meet your eye, “I like it when you tug on my hair.”

You have to overlook Jake’s suggestive comment as Danica’s already reaching for you, and you eagerly engage in a shoving match while the two men beneath you plant themselves into the bottom of the pool. You manage to get a leg up on Danica, and they’re both pushed backwards by the force of your shove, but Daniel surges forwards and ends up knocking you and his roommate right into each other.

You collapse against Danica, forehead-to-forehead, giggling like little girls. Her eyes are bright and shining with amusement, and her breath smells minty- like gum, not toothpaste. You’re more than happy to begin pushing at each other again, and though you’re confident your navy-built muscles are going to prevail, she lands a critical shove against your shoulder that throws you off-balance and sends you toppling off of Jake’s shoulders.

The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jake’s facing you, having turned when you’d fallen from his shoulders. He’s grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.

“Shit.” He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and you’re trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.

“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to help you. Your top came untied.”

“What?” You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jake’s hard, toned chest before he’s fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.

“Up,” He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. It’s- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps that’s why you’re so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.

“You decent?” Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly you’re held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly and inexplicably squirmy happens in your stomach.

“Done. I double knotted it.” He hums, and it’s such a sincere tone, one that’s completely vacant of all his usual dickishness, that you lose yourself staring at his face when he pulls away. You begin examining it for any sign that perhaps he was murdered and replaced with a poorly-trained doppelganger.

His hair looks right, albeit sopping wet. His eyebrows are growing slightly bushier than usual, but nothing you’d consider a complete and total imposter. His nose is still the same: strong, slightly downturned (though not as far as Rooster’s), and there’s a tiny patch of sunscreen that hasn’t been rubbed in near his right eye. His mouth is set in a determined purse as he double knots the strings of your bikini top together, and his eyes- his eyes are different.

Miles different than you’ve ever seen them. The outside edge of his hazel-green rings is softened, like someone has blurred their usual sharp border and lined it with suede. His pupils are huge, and they’d be eclipsing his irises if those weren’t so big and puppy-like. He is, in every sense of the word, gentle, inside and out. 

Jake has never been gentle before. 

“You alright?” He asks, and you snap back to reality with his large hands spread over the expanse of your bare back, the eyes that you’d been examining firmly and concernedly fixed upon you. Only a few meager strings separate his skin from yours, and you nod once, steadily as you gently push his arms off of you.

“Let’s go again,” You call to Danica and Daniel, your voice a piss-poor attempt at strength and nonchalance as it lacks its usual life, “Good hit, Danica. But watch out, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Bring it,” She grins gleefully, and her giddy gaze drifts downwards to Jake’s face when he lifts you onto his shoulders yet again. From the looks of it they share some sort of silent conversation- some inside joke that you’re not privy to. 

Something about that, something about her excluding you from a conversation with your own teammate makes you shove her, not enough to knock her off of Daniel’s shoulders, but enough to show her that you’re not going easy on her. She shrieks giddily as she writhes to stay balanced on Daniel’s shoulders, a smidge less broad than Jake’s. You’re thankful for that, for the steady mount you’ve got, as you resume pushing and shoving at Danica.

Jake is going insane. Not only does the phantom sensation of your bare tits- nipples hard from the chilly pool water - stick to him like a wet t-shirt, he can feel you against the back of his neck, your warm sex nestled snugly against him with only the bottom half of your bikini to separate you. Your thighs bracket his head, close enough for him to reach out and bite at, but he has to focus on keeping his stance sturdy so that you can play properly. Daniel’s glaring viciously at him across the few feet that separates the four of you, and he’s not going to let Mr. Mailman win. 

This time, Jake suspects you’ve used that military muscle of yours, because Danica slips backwards off of Daniel’s dewy shoulders and splashes into the pool. Your hand cups beneath Jake’s chin, tilting his head upwards and leaning it back into your lap.

“Nice one,” He grins upside-down at you, and you bump your fist against his when he offers it. Then you’re craning your neck down, surely uncomfortable as you leave mere inches between your lips and his, and his ears are ringing.

“Back up,” You murmur, disguising it as a congratulatory speech while Daniel helps Danica back onto his shoulders, “Get them to chase us and we’ll use the momentum against them.”

“Darlin’,” Jake proclaims, pride puffing up his chest that your legs are resting against, “You’re my kinda woman. Always looking to win.”

“Just do it, Hangman,” You scoff, but your eye-roll is less than irritated, fond if anything due to your partnership as Jake drops his head to face Daniel and Danica once more.

Jake stands in place where he’d been before, but when Danica engages with you he begins backing up. Slowly, carefully, ensuring that his feet are planted steadily each step so that you’re not tipped over, he makes his way towards the drop off towards the deeper end of the water. Daniel follows, taking the bait, and soon enough his predicament becomes obvious: he’s not as tall as Jake.

He stands somewhere close to six feet, surely, but not past it like Jake does. Your partner’s head is still comfortably above water, smirk in full force as Daniel’s beard becomes waterlogged. 

“That’s not fair!” Danica laughs, petting sympathetically at Daniel’s sopping wet hair, “Poor guy, we’ll get you stilts for the next round.”

Daniel lands a teasing pinch against the curve of her ass and she shrieks. You lunge for her, using her momentary shock to catch her off guard as you send her tumbling backwards into the water behind Daniel. 

You don’t have time to celebrate before Jake is ducking down and slipping himself out from beneath you, his strong arms bracing your fall so that you barely sink a few feet into the water. He crushes you in a celebratory hug, his laughter harmonizing with your own. He turns you both to face Daniel and Danica as they splutter to catch their breath, his cheek pressed flush against your own. 

“Chicken Champions,” He declares, holding you tight to his side at his own height, which means your feet float above his own in the water, “I’d offer to go again, but that’d just be cruel. You ladies wanna chatter in the hot tub while Danny-Boy and I show off on the diving board?”

“I brought a book,” Danica hums, face dripping with water you feel only mildly guilty for submerging her in, “If you wanna read, Y/N, I’ll do it with you.”

“Perfect.” Daniel nods, already cutting through the water on his way to the diving board, “I’ll be careful not to splash you guys.”

“I won’t.” Jake supplies helpfully, his grin turned shit-eating as he eyes you up, “No point in reading one of them smutty porn books if you’re not soaking wet.”

“Splash me and I’ll throw your room key off the side of the boat, Hangman,” You promise, “You’ll be begging strangers to take pity on you in the elevator.”

“Nah, that’s not my style,” Jake’s voice is dripping with intent while Daniel takes position on the diving board, his swim trunks dripping steady trails of water. You don’t know why until he continues, taking his own bait, “I’ll leave that to Daniel.”

You blame Jake’s comment for why Daniel’s dive nearly turns into a belly flop. It’s instantaneous, really, Daniel’s changing of posture as he register’s Jake’s biting words, and you have half a mind to admonish Jake for riling Daniel up during a dive- that could have ended badly. As it stands, Daniel does a sort of cannonball, though not intentionally, and you and Danica cringe in unison when he lands, sending water splashing well over the divider into the hot tub. Your book remains mostly unscathed- only a droplet of water lands on the cover and obscures the male lead’s face, blurring out his beard and making him appear clean-shaven. 

Jake is already scaling the ladder, and when he gets to the top he surveys Daniel emerging from the water.

“Six,” He shrugs, sneering down at Daniel from the highest point on the deck, “‘Could’ve clinched a seven if you hadn’t splashed the ladies, but your form was still shit.”

He doesn’t give Daniel a chance to fire back- or maybe the man is just too smart to take Jake’s bait - before he sets his arms together above his head, and seamlessly, impeccably cuts through the water. For someone so muscular and bulky, his form is graceful- not that you’ll ever tell him that. Water arcs outwards from where he’d landed, one half of the splash practically targeting Daniel where he stands watching.

He swims farther, nearly reaching the other end of the pool before he emerges, shaking water from his hair like a dog as he looks intently at you and Danica in the hot tub for a rating.

“Ten!” Your reading companion shouts, blessedly unaware of the tense atmosphere- or again, too intelligent to fall for Jake’s lowly antics- and you look at the water-stained cover of your novel.

You smear away the water droplet with your dry thumb, and the male main character’s beard returns.

“Four.” You call, voice deadpan as you lock your eyes on your novel, “For playing dirty and sabotaging the other contestants.”

Hangman’s grin is open-mouthed and cemented into place as he stands taller than Daniel in the water, tanned skin standing starkly out from the blue of the chlorinated water, “Dirty’s the best way to play, darlin’.”

Danica shoots you a look from behind the spread of her novel that you’ve sent many-a-girlfriend before. It’s the wide-eyed, restrained smile that screams ‘We’re talking about this later’, and you mirror her expression with your own disdain.

“Leave us alone,” You call, grinning apologetically at Daniel so that he knows he’s only a bystander, “We want to read.”

“Let’s leave the ladies to their smut, Dorian.” Jake calls, louder than he needs to be as he stretches to display his toned abdomen and muscled arms, “We can find our own fun. Wanna see who can swim the fastest? Place your bets, ladies: pilot or mailman?”

“You swam pretty slow when you crash-landed in the Pacific that one time,” You muse, fighting to keep a smirk off of your face, “I remember thinking you would die in the time it took for you to swim back to shore.”

“Wouldn’t’ve gone so slow if I wasn’t hauling my RIO back to shore. He hit his head on the way down,” Jake dips his head towards Danica, happily regaling her with the tale,  and you realize you’ve only fluffed his ego more, “So he was unconscious. Well I couldn’t just leave him there, ‘poor guy was only a trainee. So I took him along. It did slow me down, but,” He heaves a disgusting, gaudy, fake sigh, “It was worth it to send him back home to his mama.”

You taste a hint of blood where you’ve apparently chewed through your lip. You let it go and hope nothing escapes your mouth. It would be a shame to stain the pages of your novel red.

You’re trying very hard not to pay attention to Jake and Danica where he’s engaged her in a staring contest. Well, you suppose it’s not much of a contest that she can win: the point is that you’re losing. Jake’s showing off his impressive build, still running his mouth with every vaguely self-complementary anecdote he can embellish, and Danica is taking the bait, which means that your rampant attempts to cool Jake’s ego have failed. 

You let the warm, borderline-hot water sink into your skin and simmer alongside the building irritation that threatens to blow beneath the surface. You’re tired. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for you- or, if not relaxing, a good way to blow off steam. You were supposed to be bent in half up against the shower wall by now, not bending the pages of your book with the strong grip you’ve cemented onto them while you mediate Jake’s ego and the willingness of so many women to accommodate it. 

Part of you wants to let loose and have fun- not with Jake, of course. Never with Jake. But part of you wants to act rationally, forget the constant rivalry between you two and let him shack up with whoever will show him her tits first. But the other part of you, the one that cheers every time he places second in a show of skill, wants to knock him down a peg. It’s why you’re so persistently humbling him- or, trying to, at least. Something about him putting on this cocky persona- erasing all human emotion to make way for pure sleaze puts you on edge, and you pity the fool who believes it.

You can’t tell if Danica’s that fool yet, because she’s turned back to her book with a smile, but to her credit she doesn’t ogle him while he’s swimming. It would be easy to- he’s all tanned muscle and gestures that show off just the right curve or vein. He knows how to preen, but Danica seems to be minding her own business. That makes it easier for you to read your own novel; you don’t feel like you have to keep an eye out for her anymore.

You’re not sure whether it’s a love for the act or a wordless competition to outswim the other that keeps Jake and Daniel occupied with lapping the pool for so long, but as more and more people filter out of their rooms and onto the deck, there’s not much room for recreation anymore.

“Are you done?” You ask Danica, peering over at her after someone unknowingly sends a wave of water straight for you both, narrowly avoiding soaking your novels.

“I think I’m done.” She nods sheepishly, rushing to stand and keep her book dry, “Should we run away before the men notice we’re leaving?”

“Excellent plan,” You laugh, but you can practically feel Jake’s eagle eye upon you as you race for your towel, leaving soaked footprints behind on the wooden deck, “We should go get some pizza. They’re making more now that it’s a little busier out here.”

“You shouldn’t stare like that.” Daniel’s irritatingly smooth voice, pitched up slightly from Jake’s and entirely free of Jake’s rugged charm, makes Jake’s lips yearn to curl into a sneer.

Jake pivots in the cold pool water to face Daniel rather unimpressed, a scoff begging to burst from his lips, “Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat, or something.” Daniel’s arms are crossed, and Jake plants his feet firmly against the concrete floor of the pool.

“Oh, you’re so virtuous,” Jake drawls, his skin burning and not from the rays of sun hitting it directly, “You frenched her in an elevator, Daniel, you’ve got no room to be talking to me about class.”

“She wanted me to kiss her. She kissed me.” Daniel insists, and Jake laughs- actually laughs, a grit of his teeth and a forceful exhalation of air, “That’s different than staring at her ass while she runs away from you like you’d flip her skirt up at a drive-in movie theater.”

“Flipping skirts,” Jake laughs, sadistic grin in full force, “Daniel, I’m not that old fashioned! Please, she’s in a bathing suit that she chose, for a sex cruise that she booked, and you know what? She probably wants you to be staring at her ass in it. And you don’t seem too concerned with the other people on the deck, I’m sure a few of them are looking too. And are you worried I’m looking at Danica’s ass?”

“You’re not looking at Danica’s ass.” Daniel nearly bites his tongue in an effort to keep his voice level, “Because you’re not interested in Danica. You’re interested in Y/N and you can’t have her. She’s not yours.”

“She’s not yours, either.” Jake spits, and there’s a moment of silence where both men’s chests heave with barely-suppressed tension. Jake realizes that he’s admitted to Daniel that he has no real claim over you, but the other man doesn’t fight back against not having one of his own. But you are his, you are Jake’s, in the way you’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, in the look in your eyes when you’d stared into his own earlier, in the stain on his pajama pants.

You’d moaned his name- his name, not Daniel’s.

Someone knocks into Daniel from behind, backing right into him and nudging him slightly off balance.

“Oh!” The woman shrieks, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine.” He offers her a tight smile, heading for the ladder, “Don’t worry about it.”

Jake hauls himself up out of the pool with nothing but his forearms, using his towel to dry his hair if only to show off the expanse of his chest to any who may be watching. He checks- you’re not.

“So,” Danica leans forwards into your space at the pizza counter, eyes meaningfully wide, “Tell me why he’s acting like this.”

“He always acts like this.” You scoff, and when she levels you with an unimpressed glare, you insist, “No, really! He’s just- everything is a competition to him, everything. I met his mom once, and she told me that he used to have races at the dinner table to see who could finish their food first. He kept making himself sick but as long as he’d beat his brothers he didn’t care. He always has to win, and right now, he’s competing for us.”

“No, he’s competing for you.” Danica corrects you, “Is he winning?”

“Hell no. He’s- he’s not really competing for me, not meaningfully. He just wants to say he ‘got me’, you know? That would be major bragging rights on the tarmac. But that’s exactly why I can’t give in- I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her fellow pilot! Then they wouldn’t see my achievements anymore, just my mistakes.”

“I get that.” She nods, “But how do you know he’s just gonna dump you?”

“I’ve watched him dump the whole of San Diego,” You scoff, “That’s what he does. He doesn’t do love, he’s the kind of guy who’s only ever interested in something quick and dirty.”

“Everyone does love.” Danica frowns, “Some people just start later in life than others. And I think he’s starting now. With you.”

“Love,” You laugh, and sure, it’s dramatic, but if it gets through to her, you don’t care, “A man who loves me would not have tormented me for my entire career.”

She tilts her head thoughtfully, “I think he does. Even if he doesn't act the way you think he should, even if he doesn't act the way you would, I think he does love you. I think he just loves differently. I think he's new to it. What has he done to torment you?”

You huff, grateful for the opportunity to vent, “He constantly tries one-upping me- again, he can’t lose. He just- he pokes and prods and teases me like we’re on the playground or something, and it’s non-stop. It’s not like he’s sweet most of the time and then there’s a few bouts of light teasing, it’s- it’s constant, and I can’t ever let my guard down, or I’ll lose.”

“So you’re fighting to win, too.” Her eyes narrow slightly, “Why?”

“Because. I can't be second-best, and I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her coworker. I’m not doing that.” You repeat.

“Oh," She laughs, "So you're both stubborn. You don't want to lose, either. But second-best is temporary, rankings come and go. And I understand your thing about not wanting to be known for sleeping with him, but even if you did sleep with him, the whole Navy doesn’t have to know.”

“They will, Hangman will brag. He always brags.”

“He won’t- not if he’s in love with you, not if you want him to keep it private.”

“He’s not in love with me-!”

“Four slices of Pepperoni, two cheese?” A large tray is placed between you and Danica at the counter you’re both leaning against, and it snaps the two of you out of your debate.

You turn to see one of the employees looking expectantly at you, and Danica stammers, “Uh, three cheese.”

“Sorry.” He smiles placatingly at her, scooping another slice onto the plate, “Three cheese.”

“Thank you.” You take the pepperoni pizza, leaving Danica to collect the cheese. You feel bad for walking away, even if you know she’s hot on your trail, but you feel frustratingly suffocated, like everyone is urging you to make the biggest mistake of your life and never considering why you simply can’t. She doesn’t know Jake, she hasn’t spent the last decade with him as he’s blown his way through tourist after tourist, bragging all the while. And he doesn’t understand what it would be like- even if he wasn’t looking to win, even if he did just want to try casual sex for fun, you’d never be able to escape that reputation. 

You feel like you’re going crazy, and you plop down between Jake and Daniel where they sit at opposite sides of a table, ready to stuff your face with pizza instead of dealing with any of it.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[mononijikayu]

live updates — gojo satoru.

As the game became less of a focus and more of a background challenge, your Satoru started chatting about his week like he usually does. He grins as he starts talking.  “Man, I really miss home, baby.” he said, his usual bravado softening. “I miss our bed! You get lost in the sheets and we get lost in the sheets together!” Satoru immediately saw the flood of the comments. His face immediately turns scarlet as he scrolls.  You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction. He waved his hand, “Hey comments, that was a really sweet comment! That isn’t innuendo, keep it PG!”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, slice of life, light hearted, domestic, romance, long distance relationship, pet names (baby, doll, baby doll, etc), banter, flirting, humour, happy ending, hurt/comfort, pining, weariness, depictions of long distance relationship, depiction of pining, depiction of weariness, depiction of slice of life, actor! gojo, non-celebrity! reader, this is how deep gojo would love you;

WORD COUNT: 5.9k words

NOTE: the people have chosen and people have chosen gojo as the second rank for the poll. i thought of this as a parallel to hey lover series!!! one can only wonder what sort of lover gojo would be, especially with the type of schedule he would have had as an actor. but i love to think that gojo satoru is the type to make everything work, even in long distance. also a lot of this was inspired by kim seokjin of bts playing games on weverse live and i hope yall enjoy that too. anyway, i love you all so much!!! please take care, keep safe. its getting colder!!! mwah <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

IT WAS HARD DATING SOMEONE WHO WAS FAMOUS. But it was your life. Gojo Satoru, your famous singer and actor boyfriend, had been booked for an extended stint abroad, and the thought of not seeing him for weeks weighed heavily on you. 

Though he’d send the occasional text or call when he could, you both knew it wasn’t enough. And especially for him — who was more clingy than you were. 

But one of those nights, during one of his brief calls, your beloved boyfriend Satoru had finally proposed a plan to you as you were laying on your bed alone.

“I know you’re worried about me being away for so long. So… how about I do a livestream every week? I’ll play some silly games, and you can see for yourself that I’m alive and well."

Your brows furrowed at him. "But Satoru, your privacy? Don't you—"

"It's okay, baby. I don't mind. Plus, I know you’ll love watching me lose miserably. And you know, everyone knows we’re dating anyway. I might as well make a declaration of my love for you like this.”

You didn't think that you could argue about what he wanted.

But you can't help but feel warmth when he kisses your check.

Gojo Satoru has never loved much of life as much as he did you.

And somehow, you fall in love with him hard, again.

The following week, true to his word, your phone pinged with a notification: GojoSatoruLIVE – Silly Games & Updates. You clicked the link, your screen filling with your boyfriend’s signature grin. That had made you smile for the first time in a while.

“Hey doll!” he greeted playfully. “Miss me? I know it’s been tough, but I thought this would make things easier. So, every week, I’ll be here, streaming just for you.”

Week 1 

THE FIRST WEEK FEELS EASY. Gojo Satoru started off confidently with a game that seemed laughably easy. One where you had to stack blocks without knocking them over. As the screen showed colorful blocks teetering precariously, he flashed a grin at the camera.

“Easy peasy, baby!” he boasted, cracking his knuckles like he was preparing for some grand feat. With the first few blocks, he was doing fine…..until, naturally, the tower began to wobble.

You could see the moment his confidence faltered, his eyes widening comically. "No, no, no—hey, hey, hey! Stay up, stay up—"

The tower collapsed in a spectacular fashion, blocks scattering across the screen with dramatic sound effects. Satoru groaned, slapping his forehead. 

“Alright, maybe not so easy…..” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as if the game had personally insulted him. “But don’t worry, I’m just warming up! Next round, guys. Trust! This will finally be a guaranteed win. Put your trust in the strongest! Baby, believe in your boyfie!”

Spoiler: He did not win the next round.

After the third round of failed block stacking, with this time with the tower collapsing before he even got halfway through, Satoru finally gave up, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms dramatically. He lets out a heavy sigh and takes a moment, moving forward on his PC.

“Okay, clearly this game is rigged, baby.” he declared, throwing a hand toward the screen. “They knew I’d be playing, so they made it impossible. But don’t worry, I’m too talented to be brought down by a bunch of blocks.”

Between his attempts to master the game, he filled you in on his week. He smiled through it, happily so. You missed how much he would yap to you. It’s alright, seeing him yap over the screen. But it was different, when he’s next to you. 

“The shoots have been exhausting. You wouldn’t believe how many times they made me retake a shot where I’m just standing still. Apparently, my natural charm is ‘too distracting,’ so they wanted me to tone it down.” 

He shot the camera a playful smirk, knowing full well that toning down anything wasn’t in his nature. Gojo Satoru’s charm was always going to hit. But you know he plays it for you more than anything. The rest of the world does not know how killer that charm is in the morning sun, while beside him.

“But the crew’s great, though!” he continued, glancing at the screen as another round of blocks came tumbling down. “They’re really professional—don’t get me wrong. But do you think it’s normal for someone to eat six plates of pasta for lunch? Because I might’ve done that.” 

He threw in a sheepish grin, as if he wasn’t fully aware of his own ridiculous appetite. “What can I say? I ordered too much food. But it was amazing! I need to take you there when I’m back.”

Every time he glanced at the camera, it felt like he was speaking directly to you, his playful tone and teasing smile making the miles between you seem insignificant.

"Oh, and don’t think I forgot, baby. You should be prepared! Next time you have to play this with me! Bet you can’t beat my high score."

Given that his “high score” was barely two blocks stacked, you couldn’t help but laugh at the challenge.

Before signing off, Satoru dramatically wiped his forehead as if the session had been physically taxing.

“Whew. Alright, I think I’ve done enough damage here. I’ll work on my block-stacking skills for next week. And by ‘work on’ I mean completely forget this game exists. But, hey, at least I look good no matter what I’m doing, right?”

He flashed one last charming grin at the camera. “See you next week, doll. And don’t worry, my beloved doll. I’m alive, full of pasta, and missing you terribly.”

And with that, the screen faded to black, leaving you with the warmth of his silliness and the comfort that, no matter how far apart you both were, your Satoru will always found a way to make you smile.

Week 2

HE MESSAGED YOU WHEN HE WAS GOING ON LIVE. And of course, you already had some delivery food and some wine ready, watching your lover start it all up. Gojo Satoru kicked off the livestream with a smirk, this time ready to tackle a racing game. He looked way too confident for someone who spent last week losing to virtual blocks. 

“Alright, this game? I’m winning first place, no question!” he said, pointing at the screen like it was already a done deal.

The race started off well for your boyfriend. Satoru’s cute character zipped off the starting line like a pro. He was looking confident about all of it. He was smirking beyond compare. He looked too handsome.

“Look at that speed! I’m practically untouchable. Ka-chow, baby! I am speeeedddd!” he boasted, dramatically leaning into each turn as if that would help his in-game car. For a moment, it seemed like he was actually doing okay.

Then he hit a banana peel.

“WHAT?!” His car spun out, and his screen lit up with the mocking sound of other players zooming past him. Satoru’s jaw dropped. “Who put that there? Who’s sabotaging me? What the hell? How am I not winning? It was so close!” 

He glanced at the camera, his dramatic flair fully on display. “Alright, alright, that’s fine. I’m just building suspense. You don’t wanna see me win too easily, right?”

But then came the red shells. One after another. His car spun out more times than you could count, and by the time he finally crossed the finish line, he was dead last. 

A giant “12th PLACE” flashed on the screen.

He stared at it for a long moment, letting the defeat sink in before dramatically flopping back in his chair. You giggled at his reaction. Satoru pursed his lips, looking at the camera, eyes furrowed with disappointment.

“Okay, maybe these games are rigged, baby!” he sighed, pouting like a kid who’d lost at hide-and-seek. “This is not a fair play game, game company!”

He threw his hands up in mock surrender, laughing at himself. “Who am I kidding? This game’s obviously cheating. No one’s that bad at driving… except maybe Kento. His driving is really really bad, guys. Girls, guys, gays, non-conforming friends! You should find a good driver if you don’t like his designated driver for the rest of your life!”

Before he could dwell on his loss any longer, you heard a crash off-camera, followed by giggles. Satoru barely had time to react before his door burst open, and barged into the room were Itadori Yuji and Kugisaki Nobara, looking like they were on a mission to cause chaos.

“Yo, yo, sensei! Gojooooooooo!” Yuji called out, grinning as he dove into your boyfriend’s bed. “Heard you were losing, so we came to help!”

“More like witnessing the disaster. This is hilarious!” Nobara added with a mischievous smirk, folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.

Satroru tried to maintain his composure, waving them off. “I’m not losing, I’m just… learning the course.”

Yuji peered at the screen, pointing at the humiliating “12th PLACE” graphic still displayed. “Uh-huh. Looks like you’ve learned nothing.”

Satoru groaned, dramatically dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, fine! The game might not be my strongest skill. But have you seen me act?”

He shot them both a grin, trying to distract from his gaming disaster. “Photoshoots in the morning, Jujutsu Kaisen shoots all day, meetings all night. You know, someone has to look good while you two slack off.”

“Yeah, yeah, big shot.” Nobara rolled her eyes. “But seriously, how are you this bad? It’s a racing game. Even Yuji could win this!”

Yuji, looking offended, gave her a nudge. “Hey, I’m great at racing games!”

Satoru waved his hand dismissively. “Okay, enough out of you two! I’ll do better next time, promise. But let’s be real here, kiddos! You don’t come here for the gaming skills, you come here for the charm.” 

He winked at the camera towards you, clearly trying to salvage his bruised ego. “Ain’t that right, doll?”

You giggled at his little flying kiss soon after. 

Your boyfriend’s really the cutest person.

And as he smiled, you know that his ego recovered.

Meanwhile, Yuji had already grabbed a controller, grinning like he was about to show up his mentor. “How about I show you how it’s done?”

Nobara crossed her arms and nodded at Satoru. “Yeah, maybe let the kids handle this. You stick to acting pretty and being on time to set for once.”

Satoru’s bright eyes widened dramatically. “Oh, on time? Me? Never!”

As the chaos continued with Yuji and Nobara heckling him every time he lost, Gojo Satoru somehow managed to throw in a few updates about his week to you. 

“The photoshoots are still insane, though.” he said over the sound of Yuji crashing his own car into a wall. “The pictures are going on the wall again, doll!”

“Early mornings, late-night meetings… But I’m hanging in there. Mostly because of this.” He motioned to the livestream. “You guys and you, my baby doll. You all keep me going. But well, my baby doll the most, guys. That’s my baby.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “You’re so sappy, bro.”

“Yeah, cause that’s my baby, kid! Sorry you and Maki aren’t—”

“I’m gonna strangle you!” She glared.

Satoru only laughed and Nobara rolled her eyes, but more playful this time. Even with Yuji tackling him from the side in an attempt to “help” and Nobara giving snarky commentary on his every move, your beloved Satoru never lost that playful grin. He shot you one last wink before wrapping things up.

“Alright, I gotta deal with these two. See you next week. And trust me, I’ll win something by then. Maybe.”

But as the camera faded out, you had a feeling his streak of terrible gaming luck—and hilarious weekly chaos—was far from over. You closed your computer and heard the sound of your phone. You smiled even wider. You gotta comfort your winter bear and his pouty self.

Week 3 

YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS BACK FOR MORE. And you were of course, here once again. You smiled watching his face surface on your screen. Satoru quickly started the stream with his signature grin, announcing his latest challenge for his weekly check ins. And that tonight, ladies, gents and non–binary folks, is this new puzzle game. 

“Alright, baby, everyone else in this live, this one should be easy. I mean, c’mon, I’m a genius. I’ve got six eyes and an IQ off the charts.” he quipped, wiggling his fingers like he was casting some sort of brainy spell. 

He clicked through the game’s introduction with the confidence of someone who definitely hadn’t been last place in a racing game just the week before.

For the first few minutes, Satoru seemed to be doing fine, solving the initial puzzles like a pro. “See? Easy stuff. I could do this in my sleep!” he bragged.

But then came a more complicated challenge, involving color-coded switches and hidden doors. That’s when the trouble started.

“Wait… why won’t this thing move?” Satoru muttered, squinting at the screen. He tried a few more random clicks, then groaned. “Okay, clearly the game is intimidated by my genius.” 

He furiously tapped at his keyboard to no avail. “This is just me taking a break from being smart all the time. Gotta give the game a fighting chance, y’know?” 

He shot the camera a playful smirk, but you could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to solve the puzzle. “Nah, actually I’d win!”

Minutes ticked by, and Satoru was still stuck on the same puzzle. His face was entirely frozen on his focus. But then his face fell and frowned.  He finally leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll figure it out… eventually.” He gave a dramatic sigh, like the weight of his own intelligence was too much to bear. “But don’t worry, I’ve got this. Probably.”

As the game became less of a focus and more of a background challenge, your Satoru started chatting about his week like he usually does. He grins as he starts talking. 

“Man, I really miss home, baby.” he said, his usual bravado softening. “I miss our bed! You get lost in the sheets and we get lost in the sheets together!”

Satoru immediately saw the flood of the comments.

His face immediately turns scarlet as he scrolls. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction.

He waved his hand, “Hey comments, that was a really sweet comment! That isn’t innuendo, keep it PG!”

“The hotel’s nice, sure, but it’s not the same without you around.” He paused, glancing at the camera like he was talking directly to you. “The bed’s too big for one person, you know?”

There was a rare, genuine vulnerability in his voice, just for a moment, before he quickly shifted back to his usual playful tone. “But hey, I’m doing fine. And this, what we do here, what I do for you….this makes it easier. Talking to you like this after missing you so much, baby. This makes it all worth it. I can’t wait to be home, but yeah, I…I treasure this.”

Right on cue, there was a loud crash from somewhere behind him. Satoru jumped, whipping around in his chair. “What the—?”

The door to his hotel room flew open, and in strolled Ieiri Shoko and Geto Suguru, looking like they’d just come from causing trouble elsewhere. Shoko had a cigarette dangling from her lips, her usual cool smirk in place, while Suguru just raised a casual hand in greeting.

“Yo, Satoru!” Suguru said, settling into a nearby chair like he owned the place.

Satoru groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Ugh! Do you two ever knock?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Shoko teased, blowing out a puff of smoke. She glanced at the camera, noticing the livestream for the first time. “Oh, you’re streaming? Hey there!”

Her eyes lit up as she leaned closer to the camera, her smirk growing wider. “So, this is the famous partner, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you, darling.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed, his smile faltering just slightly. “Shoko, don’t—”

But it was too late. Shoko winked at the camera. “You know, I’ve always thought Gojo was a bit out of his league with you. I mean, you could do better, right? Maybe someone a little more… mature?” She gave a slow, suggestive smile, clearly enjoying herself.

Satoru’s mouth fell open in horror. “Shoko, stop! Stop rizzing my pookie!” he warned, though his voice was more panicked than commanding. He glanced nervously at the chat.

But then you, ever the tease, decided to play along. You typed a comment back: "Well, Shoko, I don’t know... maybe you should take me out sometime and we’ll see."

Gojo’s reaction was immediate. He nearly fell out of his chair, his face going from cocky to full-on betrayed. “WHAT?! No! You—don’t flirt back!” 

He was waving his arms wildly, trying to contain the chaos. “Baby, don’t do this! I can’t lose you like this! I’m not gonna win over a lesbian, oh my god—”

Meanwhile, Shoko was laughing so hard she had to wipe a tear from her eye. “Ooooh, now this I like!” she said, blowing a kiss to the camera. “You’re my new favorite person.”

Suguru, watching the entire scene unfold with a bemused smile, finally chimed in. “This is more entertaining than your puzzle game, Satoru. Maybe we should join your streams more often.”

Satoru looked like he was on the verge of losing it. “I’m being attacked! Betrayed! By everyone! This is treason!” 

He pointed an accusing finger at the camera at you. He was sure you were giggling (you were). “And you—you’re flirting with Shoko?! I’m the charming boyfriend here, not her!”

Shoko gave him a pat on the head, like he was an overexcited puppy. “Don’t be so jealous, Satoru. It’s cute.”

Satoru dramatically slumped in his chair, groaning like his entire world had been turned upside down. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

With one last exasperated glance at the camera, Satoru sighed. “Alright, next week’s stream will be Shoko-free. I can’t take any more of this. I can’t be single because of Shoko stealing my lover!” he muttered, still pouting.

But before the stream ended, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Even with all the teasing, the playful banter, and the flirting with Shoko, Your Satoru still looked like he was having the time of his life. And that, more than anything, made the distance between you feel just a little bit smaller.

Week 4

ONCE AGAIN, YOU SAT ON YOUR BED AND WAITED FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND’S FACE TO SURFACE. After a few seconds, Gojo Satoru started the stream with his usual swagger and that massive grin on his face.

You didn’t know what he had planned this time, he hadn’t told you. He kept saying that you should wait and be patient for today. So, you let him have that time to surprise you. Your boyfriend after all just knows how to make things enjoyable for you.

“So, I’ve been thinking, baby…..” he began, leaning closer to the camera with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Why keep all this awesomeness to myself when I can humiliate my friends in front of you, too?” 

He gestured off-screen, and a moment later, Geto Suguru appeared, settling into a chair beside him.

“Hey, hey!” Geto Suguru said with a casual wave. “I’m here to destroy Satoru’s fragile ego.”

Satoru laughed, tossing an arm around Geto’s shoulders. “Oh, please. I’m the one who invited you so I could have some real competition. You’re just here for moral support.” 

He booted up a multiplayer game, something fast-paced and competitive, and the two of them were off to the races—literally.

Even with Suguru beside him, Satoru couldn’t help but turn to the camera every few minutes, his grin widening each time he won a round. After each victory, he’d shoot you a wink or blow a kiss. 

“See that? Just for you, baby.” he’d say with a smug grin. “I’m winning like this. I am a champion for love, obviously. For my baby doll! Suguru is just here to make me look better, don't you think?"

Suguru snorted. “Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.”

As the game went on, the banter between them was relentless. Whenever Suguru would take the lead, Gojo Satoru would dramatically cry out in defeat. “This is a betrayal of our friendship!” he’d declare, throwing his hands in the air. 

But then, when Satoru inevitably snatched victory back, he’d lean in toward the camera, shooting another flirty wink your way. “I win again. See? All for you, baby.”

But beneath all the fun and games, you could sense the subtle shift. Despite his usual bravado, there was a heaviness in Satoru's weary eyes that he couldn’t completely hide. 

He masked it with jokes and over-the-top celebrations, but the long hours were starting to take a toll on him. His posture slouched just a little more than usual, and there was a tiredness in his voice when he wasn’t cracking jokes.

In between rounds, Satoru gave his usual updates, trying to keep things light. “The shoots have been intense, baby.” he admitted, running a hand through his messy white hair. “Long days, early mornings—nothing I can’t handle, though.” 

He flashed his signature grin, but there was a flicker of weariness behind it. “I’ve got another shoot tomorrow, but I’m surviving. It’s just… ya know… typical world-class star stuff.”

Suguru glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone, Satoru. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Satoru waved him off with a laugh. “Oh, c’mon, I’m invincible. Sleep is for mortals. Besides, I’ll be home soon, I promise.” He said the last part softer, his gaze flicking toward the camera, just for a moment, and you could tell he was talking to you. “I can cuddle and sleep more like that!”

There was a beat of silence, an unspoken acknowledgment that the distance was hard on both of you. But before the mood could dip too far, Satoru jumped back into character, clapping his hands together. “Alright, enough of that! Let’s get back to the important stuff—me kicking Suguru’s butt.”

Suguru rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, blue lagoon.”

They dove back into the game, the playful rivalry picking up where it left off. But through all the chaos, you could tell that your boyfriend was pushing through for you, making sure the livestream stayed fun, even if he was running on fumes.

As the stream neared its end, Satoru paused for a moment, turning to the camera with a more genuine smile. One that you know that was one that was eagerly hopeful.

Just a little more time, he'll be home. This will end soon. He'll be in your arms. He just has to be patient. He just has to be strong. Gojo Satoru will do it. He'll do it for you.

“Thanks for sticking with me through all this.” he said, his tone a little softer now. “I know I’m far away, but I’m doing my best to be here every week. And hey, just a little longer, and I’ll be home.”

Suguru, never one to miss an opportunity, gave him a nudge. “You gonna blow another kiss or what? The fans demand it. But I'm pretty sure your partner deserves it more.”

Satoru grinned, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. One more for the road.” He leaned in, blowing a dramatic kiss to the camera before signing off with a wink. “See you next week, babe. And I’ll try not to embarrass myself too much.”

But as the screen faded to black, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter how exhausted he was, Gojo  Satoru would always find a way to make you feel like you were right there with him. And you wish you could reach for him and hug him and love him.

Week 5

YOU COULD TELL THE FATIGUE IS GETTING TO HIM. Gojo Satoru appeared on the screen, looking a little rough around the edges. His normally energetic presence was dimmed, and the steam from a mug of hot tea curled lazily into the air. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes before flashing the camera a tired grin. 

“Okay, I’ll admit it—I’m running on fumes today!” he said with a chuckle. “But I couldn’t skip out on our weekly thing. You’d worry too much if I didn’t show, right?”

He pulled up a simple, relaxing game. A rare choice for your boyfriend. He doesn’t have patience sometimes for the low-stakes and slow games, clearly not aiming for any impressive wins this time around. It was a farming simulator, of all things. 

“Thought I’d try my hand at growing virtual crops since, you know, I’m such an agricultural genius, baby.” he joked, though the usual punch behind his words wasn’t quite there.

Despite his exhaustion, Satoru made an effort to keep things light. As his character in the game wandered around aimlessly through the area, he started to give you some of the small updates about his life again between sips of peppermint tea.

“The shoots have been brutal this week. Lots of action scenes, lots of stunts... and my stunt double called in sick, so guess who’s been throwing himself through walls all week?” 

He gave a halfhearted laugh, but you could tell the long days were catching up to him. “But I'm not one to give up. I’ll do my best, baby!”

Every few minutes, though, when the tiredness seemed to pull him down, Satoru would catch himself. His gaze would flick to the camera, and he’d muster up that bright, reassuring smile—the one you loved. 

“Don’t worry about me, alright?” he’d say, his voice soft but playful. “I’m tougher than I look. I’ll be home before you know it.”

There was something endearing about the way he refused to let you see just how worn out he was. He’d fumble through the game, occasionally getting distracted and letting his crops wither, but he didn’t seem to mind.

The game wasn’t the point, it never was. For him, it was just a reason to be there, to share some part of his life with you, even from miles away. He wanted nothing more than to know that he's making you smile on the other side of the world, that he's with you even when he's not beside you.

Midway through the stream, he leaned back and sighed, glancing off-camera for a moment before turning his attention back to you. “You know, these weekly streams… they’re the best part of my week right now.” 

His voice was quieter, more sincere now. “I know it’s silly, playing these dumb games just to check in, but it makes me feel like we’re not so far apart. I miss you, baby doll. Miss you so so bad.”

For a second, the cracks in his usual bravado showed. His weariness, the toll of being away for so long, all of it flickered across his face. But then, just as quickly, he covered it up with another grin. You know he did that, just for you. 

“But hey, no need to get all sappy and sad about it. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll cook you that terrible breakfast you love so much, baby doll. But don't worry, my coffee brew will make up for all of it!”

Even though the stream was shorter than usual, it felt like a lifeline—not just for you, but for him too. These weekly check-ins had become more than just updates; for you or for him.

No, they were more than that. They were a way for both of you to stay grounded, to share a piece of normalcy despite the distance. And no matter how drained he was, Gojo Satoru never failed to show up. It was his way of saying, "I'm okay. We're okay. We always will be, because this is love."

As the stream wound down, Satoru waved to the camera with a tired but genuine smile. “Alright, that’s all for tonight. Sorry it’s a short one, but I’ll make it up to you next week. Maybe I’ll find a game I’m actually good at soon enough, baby.” he teased.

Then, as always, he ended the stream with the same words, his voice softer than usual, like a promise he was determined to keep. “Soon, doll. I’ll be back soon.”

And with that, the screen faded to black, leaving you with the warmth of his voice lingering in your mind and the quiet reassurance that, no matter how far away he was, Gojo Satoru was still finding his way back to you.

Week 6

HE HASN’T LET GO OF YOU SINCE HE CAME HOME. Somehow, your beloved boyfriend had become overly attached to you after being gone for more than five weeks.

You didn’t mind, though. You missed him too much. And now that you have him all to yourself, you were just happy to make him happy, to indulge him. It was your turn to be his penicillin after a long suffering in parting. 

That was what you were doing as you joined him for his new little live. Your chair leaned closer to his as the feed started to broadcast. And of course, with all the energy in him — your beloved boyfriend starts the stream with an excited yell.

"Guess who’s finally home, yall!" Satoru practically bounced in his chair, dragging you into the frame beside him. His arm was slung over your shoulders, and his grin was so wide it was almost cartoonish. "This lucky boy, hah-hah!" 

“I’m back with my one and only, guys. Best day of my life! And the first thing I’m doing to celebrate? Playing games with my better half. How lucky am I?”

He leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, throwing a wink at the camera. You giggle as the blush became evident on your cheeks. He seems satisfied knowing he's made you blush like that in front of millions.

“Don’t be jealous, everyone. I know you’ve missed this face, but now it’s all theirs.”

The comments section immediately exploded with his castmates popping in.

YujiItadori: “Let’s gooooo! The dream team’s together again!”

NobaraK: “Bet they’re cheating, already ganging up on us before the game even starts.”

Shoko: “I didn’t tune in to watch Gojo. Move over so we can see the real star of the stream.”

Megumi: "I can't believe they love him so much, they're staying like that."

Satoru read Shoko’s comment out loud with a laugh. “Ah, Shoko, ever the comedian. You’ll have to settle for watching me kick your butt in this game, though.” 

Then he read Megumi's comment. He leaned in and then narrows his eyes. "You just hate true love Megumi!"

You smiled at him. "He's a lot, but I love him!"

"They love me, ah!" Satoru says dramatically, starting to act like he was hit by the arrow of love. He slumps on the back of his gaming chair. "I am more in love!"

"Oh, Satoru, be careful." You smiled at him, tapping his arm softly. "The game's about to start."

He turned to you as he leans forward. Satoru starts fumbling wit his own gaming controller with a smirk. “Ready to show these amateurs how it’s done?”

But before you could even pick up your own controller, you were sure that you heard the notification sound. Soon enough, you saw the new comment popped up on the screen. It was from Shoko. 

Shoko: “Actually, I just wanted to say your hair looks amazing today, babes. Oh, and by the way. I’m free tonight if you wanna hang out. I’m nearby, if you wanna go clubbing.”

You burst out laughing, quickly typing back as you talk it out loud. “Thanks, Shoko! Maybe we can grab drinks later. Satoru doesn’t mind, do you?” You shot Satoru a teasing look, eyes glinting with mischief.

Satoru froze, his playful grin faltering for just a second before he shot a mock glare at you. “Excuse me?” He leaned toward the camera dramatically, addressing Shoko directly. 

You giggle. “It would be fun! Shoko thinks I’m pretty! You have that in common, we’ll get along!”

“What is this? Flirting with my partner on my livestream? Rude.” He shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “First, they steal my heart, and now you’re trying to steal them from me, too? At least give me a chance to enjoy being back home!”

You snickered, leaning into his shoulder. “Shoko’s just appreciating what she sees. Can you blame her?”

Shoko: “Exactly. Someone around here has to appreciate your beauty for what it is, babes. And it ain’t Gojo Satoru!”

Satoru groaned loudly, slapping a hand to his forehead. “I’ve been home for five minutes, and I’m already fighting for my life.” He glanced at the camera, eyes wide in mock horror. “Help me, chat. This is supposed to be our time, and now I’m stuck playing third wheel in my own relationship.”

The comments section erupted with laughter.

And of course, a lot of teasing for Satoru.

You grinned even wider at him.

NobaraK: “Shoko is winning the game and she’s not even playing.”

Megumi: “This is why I don’t watch these streams. It’s always chaos.”

YujiItadori: “This is amazing. Gojo Satoru who?”

Determined to regain control, Satoru pulled you closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he looked straight at the computer camera. Your boyfriend's face was certainly echoing that childish pout was all too evident on his features.

“Alright, enough of this betrayal!” he said with a grin. “Let’s focus on what’s important for all of the world’s happiness and that’s us destroying everyone in this game, together. The real dream team.” 

He lifted your hand with the controller, making you both move in sync to start the game. But even as the game started, the playful banter didn’t stop. Satoru kept glancing at the chat, where Shoko continued to drop flirty comments for you, egging you on.

You of course couldn't help but match her energy and played along. As the game continued, you were periodically sending back winks and typing responses that made Satoru groan even louder and you stopped, putting it down with a laugh. 

“Why do you enjoy tormenting me like this?” he whined, though his smile never left his face.

You just grinned. “Because it’s fun. And you’re cute when you pout.”

He paused the game for a second, dramatically clutching his chest. “Cute? I’m not supposed to be cute! I’m supposed to be hot and cool and, like, super mysterious!”

Without missing a beat, you leaned closer to the mic and said in a low voice, “Shoko, he’s not mysterious at all. He leaves his socks everywhere and talks in his sleep.”

Satoru’s bright eyes widened in mock betrayal, and the chat exploded again.

Shoko: “Noted. Definitely better off hanging out with you later.”

YujiItadori: “HIS SOCKS??? WHAT????”

“You’re supposed to be on my side, baby!” Satoru cried, laughing so hard he could barely hold his controller. “I just got back, and this is what I come home to—slander!”

But beneath all the playful chaos and teasing, there was a warmth between you both that even the camera couldn’t miss. Every time Satoru glanced at you, he couldn't help but fold easily.

There was a softness in his eyes, a kind of quiet relief that he was finally home. And even though the flirting and jokes kept flying, it was obvious that he was just happy to be here, with you, sharing this silly moment.

As the stream wrapped up, Satoru threw an arm around your shoulders again, flashing a final grin at the camera.

“Alright, guys, it’s been real. But I think it’s time for me to kick back and enjoy being home with my partner. And Homewrecker Ieiri Shoko, this is for you!” he pointed at the screen with a playful glare. “Hands off.”

He winked, pulling you closer as you both waved goodbye to the viewers. “See you next week—if Shoko doesn’t steal my thunder completely by then.”

Jujutsu Kaisen's Satoru Gojo Brodcasts For A Whole Month For His Partner — Insiders said, 'He's Hopelessly In Love' with them!

In an unexpected turn of events, actor and singer Satoru Gojo has taken the internet by storm, not for his acting chops or musical talent, but for his endearing displays of affection towards his partner during his gaming livestreams.

The mega superstar who has always been more private about his life out of work is now screaming from the rooftops. He screams for his love towards them. And he's not going to stop.

The actor in a short few weeks have become a viral sensation as fans and media outlets alike can’t get enough of how "hopelessly in love" he is.

What started as casual, late-night gaming sessions on Twitch quickly turned into a phenomenon as viewers noticed something beyond the usual gaming commentary. Gojo Satoru’s soft, love-struck behavior whenever his partner joined the chat was heartwarming to his audience.

Whether it was him gushing about his partner’s smile, dedicating his game victories to them, or just pausing the action to talk sweetly, Gojo Satoru’s streams became must-watch content.

One memorable moment that caught the attention of fans worldwide was when Gojo, in the middle of an intense match, suddenly smiled and blushed, saying, “I just got a text from my partner. Everything stops when they message me.”

This short clip has since gone viral among the netizens and especially with his global group of fans. This has been received with immense positivity and love, with fans dubbing him “the ultimate simp” in the most affectionate way possible.

It’s not just the fans who have been swept away by Gojo’s open adoration. Major media outlets have picked up on the story, with headlines like “Satoru Gojo: Hollywood’s Ultimate Romantic” and “Inside the Heart of a Superstar: Gojo Satoru is Head Over Heels.”

And one good bet, with his massive popularity, he would go beyond viral. Indeed, that's what happened! Social media is flooded with clips from his livestreams, showing him talking about his love for his beloved partner with a soft grin that could melt anyone’s heart.

"I never thought I’d be watching an action game to see a rom-com play out!" one fan commented on Twitter.

Another added. "Forget the game, I’m here for Gojo Satoru being jealous about Shoko Ieiri flirting with his partner!”

In interviews, Gojo Satoru has remained unbothered by the sudden attention. “I just love them, really.” he said, shrugging with a sheepish grin when asked about the viral clips. "They’re my everything, so yeah, I’m a little obsessed."

Fans have now turned into self-proclaimed shippers of Gojo Satoru and his partner, creating fan art, videos, and even shipping hashtags. While Gojo Satoru continues his career as a heartthrob in film and music, it’s his real-life love story that’s currently winning over the internet with a happily devoted live update.

[moodriingz]

Into Your Room | L. Hughes

Summary | Luke breaks up with the reader and they're both miserable

Pairing | Luke Hughes x reader, Jack Hughes x platonic! reader, Ethan Edwards x platonic! reader

Warning | Breakups ? and maybe three curse words ? that's about it!

Author's Note | This is my first post! I'm so excited because I love this song and all I could think about for a couple of days was this scenario. Please send requests and what you think!

Masterlist

You and Luke started dating while he was at the University of Michigan. Sure, you knew when He went to play for the Devils long-distance would be difficult because of your classes and his practices and games but you wanted to try. So it came as a shock when Luke broke up with you halfway through the summer after his NHL Debut.

“Y/N I really think we need to take a breather,” said Luke while you were both watching the sunset on the beach of the lake house. 

“What?” You asked. It felt like your world came crashing down out of nowhere. You guys had barely been together a year. But you were inseparable at school and during the summers. 

“Yeah, I just need to focus on hockey right now and you have your classes. I just don’t think it’s going to work out,” Luke rambled.

“But I want to make it work. I told you that before you left for New Jersey,” 

“I don’t want to be held back because of some relationship,” Luke said and you stayed quiet. Your heart was shattering and he was stomping all over it.

“Ok, I’ll get all of my stuff and go back home. No point in wasting any time I guess,” You said with blurry eyes.

You packed up your bag and got ready to go. You saw Jack on the way out and gave him a hug goodbye.

“I don’t know what He’s thinking. I’m sure He’ll come around. It'll all work out,” Jack said into your hair even though it felt like he was trying to convince himself instead of you.

“It’s fine Jack, just take care of him for me,” you said and left the house and got in your car without looking back at one of your favorite places in the world. 

I will run after your moving car

And I will follow you

You're my northern star

Luke was miserable for the rest of the summer. He didn’t want to admit it but he was lost without you. He wished he stopped your car as you left. He regretted everything he said. He was just scared you would find someone better than him at school now that he wasn't there.

Luke told himself that once the season started he wouldn’t have time to think about how much he missed you. Boy was he wrong.

He stalked your Instagram in his free time. He was sure he was almost always the first viewer of any story you posted and had to force himself to ignore your profile picture anytime it came up when he opened the app.

You looked like you hadn’t missed a beat once you got back to school. Always posting when you’d go out with friends or when you’d study at your favorite coffee shop.

You both had so many great memories there anytime you’d post your coffee order he could basically hear the espresso machines and the smell of coffee. He'd remember your laughter from when he had gotten foam on his top lip. Or the time you were so nervous for finals and wouldn’t look up from your computer until he got you a refill of your coffee. Your smile was so bright from such a small gesture he knew he had to do anything he could to see it.

Except he did the opposite. His last memory of you was full of tears as he watched your car pull away. He didn’t know what to do. Luke was a mess while you seemed fine. How could he ever convince you to take him back?

You don't know how much I need you

Yeah, I feel the weight

It's crushing me

You were a mess coming back to school. You missed Luke more than you thought you would. The two of you spent so much time together and when you couldn’t be with each other you would text every chance you’d get.

You missed his goofy smile and curly hair. Luke Hughes was everywhere. The memory of him was in the Library where you would have study dates, He was in your favorite bar where he couldn’t take his eyes off of you all night, He was in your classes where you would sit together and whisper random things back and forth. He was everywhere except where you needed him to be. With you.

Your friends always dragged you out even when all you wanted to do was stay in and watch your favorite TV show and wallow. They always made sure to take good photos so you could post “to make Luke know what he’s missing” they’d always say. 

They basically had a schedule set of when to study with you or get coffee. You didn’t mean to make them watch over you as much as you did, but you couldn’t help how much you needed Luke. 

Finally one night You convinced them that you were too busy with homework to hang out when really you were going to watch the New Jersey Devils season opener. Ethan Edwards saw right through your lies about studying because he knew you liked to finish most of your work at the beginning of the week.

He insisted on watching the game with you and you let him because he was the only one who remotely knew what you were feeling. You both watched pregame, and when the commentators showed Luke all you could notice were his eyebags and how tired he looked. Your heart shattered all over again.

You watched him get his first assist of the season and your heart clenched. If you were still together he would’ve called you after the game and told you all about it. Now you just felt like a spectator while he was all you could think about. Ethan turned to you and noticed how upset you were with tears threatening to spill over. He was tired of seeing his friends destroy themselves.

So, maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

No, I can't do without you

Jack couldn’t take Luke’s self-pity anymore. All he would do was look at his phone and play hockey. Jack could tell it was affecting Luke more than he was letting on. His eyes were almost always bloodshot and he looked like he was moving through the motions at practice. 

Luke was a shell of his former self and Jack knew he had to do something. He texted Ethan because he knew that besides Luke that’s who you would talk to the most. They both started plotting to get you back together. The Devils had a game against the Red Wings right before Thanksgiving and knew there had to be some way to get you there.

Ethan practically begged on his knees for you to come to the game. He told you he was gifted the tickets and would feel horrible to not go. Everyone else had already left for Thanksgiving, leaving you as his only option.

You weren’t stupid. You knew the game was against the Devils. You had the date marked in your planner as when you would have seen Luke if you were still together. You both looked forward to the game because it was the first time you would’ve seen him play in the NHL and then you would've gone to his parent’s lake house for Thanksgiving the next day. At least that's what was supposed to happen. 

You only agreed to Ethan because you felt bad no one else could go. Ethan promised no funny business, and you could leave the game the second the final buzzer went off. It felt safe and you could see Jack. You missed Luke, but you were also close with Jack. It was something Luke loved about you, how great you got along with his brothers. 

Luke had no idea about the plan Jack and Ethan were brewing. He was especially miserable because he knew if he didn’t mess up the best thing in his life several months ago, you would be at the game cheering him on. He was in hell beating himself over it. All he wanted was to see you in the Jersey he gave you right before his NHL debut. 

Ethan came and picked you up all giddy when he noticed you were wearing a Hughes 43 jersey.

“What? It’s the only Devils gear I have, and I’m sure as hell not going to cheer for them in a Red Wings jersey,” You said without taking a breath.

“I wasn’t even going to say anything.”

You two find your seats and you realize how close to the ice it is. You’re on the Devils side facing the bench a couple rows up from the ice. Luke is definitely going to see you because of your proximity.

“If you had told me how close we were going to be I definitely would’ve worn-” You said before getting cut off.

“Don’t even finish that sentence we’re rooting for my team tonight,” Ethan said talking over the music.

The Devils start coming out for warm up and it doesn’t take Luke more than two seconds to see you. You both lock eyes and don’t look away. He notices you’re in the jersey he gave you, and his heart flutters with hope. He just stands there looking at you until Nico pushes him to tell him has to get ready for the game. You, however, look like a deer in headlights and your heart stops. You hadn’t seen Luke since the summer. Tears start to gather in your eyes and you know you have to leave.

“Ethan I can’t do this. I can’t be here,” You say with tears starting to fall.

“Please you promised me plus he can’t even do anything he’s on the ice,” Ethan says trying to convince you knowing it won’t work.

You start to gather your things when Luke notices. He rushes across the ice and knocks on the glass to get your attention. You instantly regret looking his way, but his eyes look desperate and excited your heart flutters the tiniest bit. 

You read his mouth as he begs you to stay. You just look at him and Ethan debating what to do. You decide to stay and see what happens. Ethan's right he can’t do anything while he’s on the ice, right?

I'm throwing stones at your window

To get you to notice me

Don't make me stand outside, in the pouring rain

With a freshly ripped human heart from my rib cage

And a boom-box

How pathetic, babe

It was a hard loss for the Devils, but the end of the game meant you could finally leave. Ethan was right, Luke didn’t bother you for the rest of the game besides constantly looking at you when he wasn’t on the ice or there was a faceoff right in front of your seats.

As you and Ethan are getting ready to leave you get a text.

From moosey

please don’t leave

i really want to talk

You showed Ethan and he looked at you bewildered.

“You never changed his name?”

“I never had the heart,” You say looking back down at the texts. The three bubbles show up and disappear over and over again.

“I think you should go. What's the worst that could happen, right?” Ethan asks. 

“I don’t know he can rip my heart out all over again and tell me off for coming to his game,” You say, swaying on your toes to your heels.

“He won’t do that trust me,” You don’t even have the energy to ask Ethan as your anxiousness bubbles up to your throat.

To moosey

where can we meet?

From moosey

come down to the locker room i can tell security you and ethan are coming

To moosey

ok 

Luke has to stop himself from running to you when you get to the locker room. He wants to pick you up and spin you around like he used to do after his Michigan games. Instead, he walks up to you and says a simple hi.

“What did you want to talk about?” You whisper nervous about what he has to say.

“Us.” Your breath stops ready for him to tell you off for coming.

“I fucked up ending our relationship,” He says with his eyes turning red.

“Luke, why now? I was ready to fight for us but you dismissed me like I was nothing to you.” 

“Because I was scared,��� He admits. “I was scared you’d find someone who’d be able to give you more attention than I could. And that’s what you deserve, but God I can’t be without you. You’re the opposite of nothing, you’re my everything and I’m so lost without you. The last couple of months have been absolute hell.”

“You should’ve talked to me. I would’ve told you there’s no one better for me than you. The last couple of months have wrecked me.” You tell him.

So, don't turn away

You must know how much I need you, need you

Yeah, I can feel your pain

I hate to think how bad I treated you

But I know a place

Where the darkness can't reach us

“Please forgive me. Please can we just forget this all happened?” Luke begs you.

You just nod and launch yourself into his arms for a kiss. He deepens it by holding you in by your hair. Your heart flutters and you never want this moment to end.

“Would it be too much to ask you to spend Thanksgiving with us? I just don’t want to spend any more time away from you. But I get it-,” Luke asks nervously before you cut him off.

“No I’d love to come, I miss everybody.”

“Did I miss it? Did our plan work?” Jack comes into the hallway shouting excitedly.

“What plan?” Luke asks Ethan and Jack.

“You didn’t,” You say.

“Oh but we did, who do you think gave me the tickets?” said Ethan mischievously.

“Well I guess your plan did work, good job boys,” you say with a blush on your cheeks.

Luke kisses your cheek and tells Jack you are spending Thanksgiving with the family and you won't be going anywhere anytime soon. You finally feel like you’re back where you belong. While Luke feels the relief of finally having his world back. 

No, I can't do without you, baby

Maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

You— And again

[epiphainie]

I see and love all your tearjerker proposal ideas, but we don’t talk enough about the absolute hilarity that would ensue with an Evan Buckley Proposal™️. Like I’m imagining him being soooo excited about it in the most Buck way possible. He has this ten page speech about how much he loves Tommy and how they’re soulmates and the universe pulled a sick one by putting them on each other’s paths and he’s planning to tell Tommy all that before he pops the question and he’s preparing this big romantic night for it with the most romantic flowers and the most romantic music and the most romantic ring at the most romantic place in all of Los Angeles and he’s roped in everyone at the station to help him, threatened Chim with cold-blooded murder if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut, made Eddie reassure him about every step of his plans not twice but thrice, talked to Bobby with blushing cheeks and fidgeting hands till Bobby gave him his absolute blessing. Hen, Maddie, Athena, they’re all in on it. He’s Ready to do it The Right Way.

Then at like 2pm on a lazy Tuesday afternoon his poor brain that has been overworking on this for weeks gets overloaded and crashes. And suddenly he Needs To Ask Tommy Right Now. Like, just like that the entire plan is overridden, and he doesn’t even process what he’s doing before he sends Eddie a text that just says, “I think I will do it now” and ditches his phone and marches to the garage where Tommy has been working on his truck all day.

The next thing we know Eddie is opening his door to a Buck who has his arms wrapped around himself and his big blue eyes are filled with tears. He looks like a puppy kicked a thousand ways and before Eddie can even open his mouth he cries out, “He said no,” and drops face first on Eddie’s couch. Eddie is like ???? but also “Well, I can’t deal with this shit on my own,” so he calls Hen and Chimney and ten minutes later Buck is sitting on the couch being interrogated by his best friends.

They’re all obviously confused.

Hen, disbelieving, asks, “He said no?”

Buck makes the most pathetic pitiful sound known to the human kind and nods.

Chimney, not really helpful, murmurs, “Well, that doesn’t make any sense,” to himself because he knows how much Tommy loves Buck and would say yes to marrying him months, hell, years ago.

Hen, trying to make sense of it all asks, “What did he exactly say?” because Chim is right, it doesn’t make a lick of sense.

Buck, still looking like a wet cat, goes, “He said it wasn’t the right thing for us.” His voice hitches and he moans, “He said it wasn’t s-smart.”

Hen and Chim shoot a look at each other. Eddie at this point is getting angry because what the fuck? Which is exactly what he says and Hen, the only one trying to be actually somewhat helpful, shakes her head like, “No, Eddie,” and then to Buck with what she hopes is a reassuring voice says, “Maybe he just doesn’t believe in the institution of marriage?”

Buck looks even more miserable at that and buries his face in his hands as he bemoans “Noooo,” and shakes his head like he’s grieving. “We t-talked about it before. At the beginning of our relationship, we both agreed we’d do that if it felt like the right time.” He slumps back on the couch like his life has just ended. “I t-thought it was the right time.”

Eddie, totally pissed off now because how are you gonna be with a guy for years, move in together, buy a house together, be committed to each other fully, and then say no to his marriage proposal, goes, “Oh fuck him. Do you want me to beat some sense into him?” Because damn, this is his best friend who looks absolutely crushed and Eddie will kick Tommy’s ass, fuck the fact that he’s really good at Muay Thai, he hasn’t seen Eddie’s wrath before.

Hen, still the sound of logic and seeing how Buck gets sadder each passing moment, stops him again. “We’re not beating anyone up.” Then says, “Buck, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. Tommy loves you.” Because yeah he does in the most sickening teen boy with a puppy crush way, so none of this makes sense and Hen’s brain is whirring but she’s not sure what’s happening yet. “And you love Tommy.”

Buck, hands covering his face again moans into his palms, “I do.” Then his hands drop, and his face shot with panic and fear he goes, “Wait?! Does this mean we broke up?”

A pissed-off, disbelieving noise leaves Eddie; Chim shoots another look towards Hen’s way; Hen just gives an awkward unsure smile. “No. No.” She tries to reassure him. “Of course not.”

“I mean,” Chim says with a shrug. “I don’t see how a relationship comes back from that, you know?”

This gets Buck start crying again.

“You’re. Not. Being. Helpful. Chim.” Hen mutters.

Eddie jumps up, “Oh, I’m beating him up for you.”

Buck’s wails get louder.

It all devolves from there with Buck going between hollering and sniffling and Eddie dead-set on confronting Tommy and Hen trying to do damage control with “We’re just gonna talk to him,” and Chim continuing to be absolutely unhelpful with his comments about how Tommy is great, and so cool, and perfect, and he’d make a great brother-in-law, and this doesn’t make any sense.

So, the four of them somehow find themselves marching towards the Buckley-Kinard house with Eddie at the helm and Buck looking like a pathetic mess between them. They’ve barely entered the front yard when Tommy bursts out the front door with his phone in his hand and he goes, “Where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for hou—”

“I trusted you, man!” Eddie shouts, voice echoing through the street.

Tommy stops in his tracks. He takes in the sight of his friends who are all shooting him deadly (and confused) glares. Then he looks at his boyfriend and finds him avoiding his eyes, keeping his gaze at his feet like all the happiness has been sucked out of his entire universe. Brows furrowing in confusion, Tommy takes a step towards him. “Evan.” He tilts his chin up and sucks in a breath when he sees the tear tracks on Buck’s face. His own face crumbles, now in concern. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Eddie lets out a mirthless laugh. “Pretending you don’t know, huh?”

Tommy looks at him, at Chim, at Hen. “Don’t know what?”

“Oh, you’re a bigger asshole than I thought, Kinard.” Eddie spits in his face, his head shaking. “Acting like nothing’s wrong after saying no to a guy’s proposal so cruelly.”

Tommy freezes. His gaze snaps to Buck with a confused, “What?” but Buck is avoiding his eyes again. “What proposal?” Tommy asks. “Evan didn’t propose to me.”

At this point all tired and beaten Buck sighs, “It’s okay, Tommy.”

“No. No—” Tommy shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”

Buck shrugs. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

“Evan.”

Sighing again, Buck finally looks up. “Look, I get it. We can talk about it later.” He chews at his lip. “Right?” Because he’s still not sure if they’re broken up or not and god he really wishes they’re not because marriage is a dumb institution rooted in patriarchy to maintain and reinforce traditional gender roles and they didn’t even let two men marry till a decade ago, so it’s not like they need anyone’s acknowledgement and all he needs is Tommy, but also he had the absolute perfect ring picked out and he doesn’t know if he can get a refund on it, and calling Tommy his husband would be so fucking nice, and maybe he has been dreaming about that for the past however many years.

At this point, he’s tearing up again, so Tommy cups his face and brushes away some of the tears, before saying with the biggest gentlest eyes, “We can talk about anything you want. But… Baby, what proposal?”

Buck sniffles. “Earlier. W-when I asked you in the garage.”

Tommy frowns harder because that doesn’t make any sense. “You didn’t ask me to marry you, Evan.”

“Yes, I did, Tommy,” Buck huffs.

“No, you asked me if I wanted to take a vacation.”

“I think I know what I asked.”

“You said you wanted to go on a trip!”

“That’s not what I said!”

“Okay, you didn’t say trip! You said, you said something like if I wanted to take a new journey with you! Embark on adventure or something. You said you wanted a travel companion for a voyage!”

“Lifelong voyage.” Buck murmurs, lips pursing and arms crossing together. “For our grand adventure together.”

No one says anything for a minute as Buck avoids their eyes and scuffs his feet in the dirt.

At last, as the person with any semblance of intelligence Hen says, “Buck. Did you use any word related to marriage? Like “husband” or “marry” or even “matrimony”?” Her eyebrows rises. “Anything that’s not a metaphor?”

Buck, face red up to the hairline now, just shrugs. “I had a-a speech, okay? I was n-nervous and it was long so I had to paraphrase.”

Finally, Hen sighs, not unkindly.

Chim chuckles, kinda unkindly.

Eddie looks almost as embarrassed as Buck and murmurs, “Sorry, man,” to Tommy as the realization hits it was just his best friend being a huge dumbass and Tommy actually didn’t do anything to deserve a beating.

Tommy, his entire focus on his boyfriend and not paying them any attention, pulls Buck’s arms down and lifts his face up again. He gives him a smile. “I said no because I thought you were asking to go on a trip, Evan,” he says softly. “And that we’ve just got a mortgage together and can’t afford one.” He shakes his head. “I was covered in grease, Pearl Jam was playing in the background, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Still looking abashed but at least not snotty anymore, Buck says, “N-no. No. It’s my fault. I’m sorry, Tommy,” he says with a shrug.

Tommy smiles again. “It’s okay, baby.” For a moment, he rubs his boyfriend’s arms up and down, then says, “Sooo…”

Buck, realizing the faint pink on his boyfriend’s face, looks at him with the roundest eyes. “You mean…?”

“Well…” Tommy shrugs. “Are you gonna ask me for real or what?”

The sun dawns on Buck’s face. His eyes go bright with fresh but happier tears. “Yea-yeah.” He nods frantically. “Tommy. W-will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Tommy says. Buck pounces on him with a kiss that gets a surprised moan from him as Hen, Chimney, and Eddie start clapping and Buck cries again and so does Tommy and later that night, Buck gives him the perfect ring he had picked out and come Saturday they actually go to the greatest restaurant in LA and Tommy listens as Buck explains every step of his original proposal and all the metaphors he’s curated carefully for his speech.

The end.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling someone to make new friends?

I (22) used to be in a group of friends in high school that pretty much drifted apart because we all went to different colleges. This was never a big deal to me because I don’t really need a friend group to function and would obviously happen if we weren’t forced to see each other every day anymore.

This isn’t the case for one of them (21) who constantly freaks the fuck out that the people they were friends with in high school don’t communicate with him consistently anymore or dropped off. I’ve explained to them multiple times that expecting the same high school friend group to exist into your 20s or 30s is completely unrealistic but they just keep saying that they can’t make any friends at their university which I know is completely untrue because they post a bunch of other people on their social media. Despite me and this person don’t really sharing any interests they view me as like their last friend on earth. Due to a combination of work and hating any form of messaging aside from discord or texting I’m also slow to respond to them and don’t get to things they send me for at least a day or two.

Anyways I finally got sick of it and told them to just go make more friends instead of constantly being miserable about a bunch of teenagers from five years ago. They told me that was easy for me to say because I’m “antisocial” and always talk to my online friends, which I responded to by pointing out my online friends don’t think I hate them or want to abandon them if I don’t reply to them for a couple of days or more.

Yeah I get that I’m like the stand-in for all of those posts about friends who don’t instantly reply to your messages so… am I the asshole or not babes

[cherienymphe]

https://www.tumblr.com/cherienymphe/751865206053945344/what-happened-girl

I’m so sorry the universe is making you have these thoughts 💔 Suicidal ideation is one of the toughest feelings a person can possibly undergo, and I’m speaking from experience. I know it probably doesn’t help, but just know that there are people out there who care about you and would be devastated if something happened to you. I don’t even know you personally, but I simply take joy in sending asks back and forth with you, like last night when we were talking about TV shows that make us happy. I typically try and think about what my future may look like and the things I would be missing out on if I made the decision to leave this world, but I know thoughts like the ones you’re having can be so loud that nothing really helps. Would you mind me asking what specific occurrences are giving you such feelings of hopelessness?

I've been applying for a different job for literal months (since 2023) because I'm sick of just barely scraping by every month if I'm lucky and I'm at my wits end because it just seems like it's not in the cards for me and I'm just supposed to be fucking miserable all the time. Like there are important things I'm trying to do and handle and it's like all my efforts are in vain like someone is laughing at me even attempting to get my life together. I'm really tired of companies claiming they're hiring when they're clearly not and I'm having personal issues with my family where I'm wondering why I'm even offering myself to help people who evidently just enjoy thinking the worst of me and there's other stuff today that I'd rather not get into but everything is just hitting me back to back to back and I'm so sick of it and wondering what the point is. If I'm just meant to be stuck in this position for God knows how long I could just not even be here and not put up with any of it

[onlyplatonicirl]

Chat im not going to lie this has been the worst week i can remember having in a very long time. Just nonstop stress with every day somehow getting worse. I don’t know how to manage it and stay on top of my schoolwork and I’ve been neglecting my self care. Every time I think I’ve made it out of the pit something else happens and I get more horrible news and drags me back under.

I don’t know when I’ll feel stable enough to write again, but I’m hoping soon. All my stressors are beyond my control right now but they are severe. I’ve been sending my teachers emails but I hate that I’ve been slacking. I started off this school year so organized and ready to conquer the world but it seems the universe is hellbent on making me as miserable as possible in so many different ways.

[auspicious-manner]

Can i request newsies era mike trying to cheer up the reader on a bad day?

a year ago today, i uploaded my very first story on tumblr :,) i’ve written on other platforms before, but when i made this account a year ago, i was hoping for a fresh start. i didn’t know if people would like my writing, but i told myself it was worth a shot. and it’s been so worth it.

to everyone who reads my stories, interacts with it, follows me, and sends in request, i thank you. i write for you guys, and knowing that i’ve made others happy is truly such a gift. in honor of my one year anniversary, enjoy this mike story! it seems only fitting that i upload a mike story exactly a year after i uploaded my first mike story 😁

also, i recently got a request for a taglist for my stories! if any of you want to be added to my taglist for any of my stories/fandoms, pls just let me know! i never thought that would be something people would be interested in, so i never proposed it before 😅

fem reader x mike faist

warnings: sickness, accidents

mike taglist: @diorgirl444

Unlucky

•

the universe was clearly against you. there could be no other explanation. every event leading up to the show on this particular day led you one step closer to full fledged insanity.

you and mike were in newsies on broadway at the same time. he was one of the delancey brothers, an understudy for jack, and a newsie. you were a bowery beauty, nun, and an understudy for katherine. given that you and mike were so close and had the same schedule, a month prior you two had decided to move in together.

mike was your comfort person. you weren’t dating, but you weren’t friends. you were somewhere in the middle with him, but the two of you had never actually talked out your feelings. you both seemed to be happy with where you were.

on the fateful morning, you woke up and immediately sat up in your bed. your throat was scratchy. you frowned, immediately thinking of the worst. you took a sip of water and the pain was worse. not only that, but you were shivering under the weight of three blankets and a hoodie, and you felt like your head was going to split open at any second.

you had a fever.

you laid back down, groaning. you had a show tonight, and it was an important show. you had friends and family from out of town coming to support you, and they had been planning this trip for weeks.

“mike!” you called out, your voice slightly hoarse. there was no reply.

“mike!” you yelled a bit louder, your hands immediately going to hold your throat from the pain.

finally, when he didn’t reply again, you rolled over to get your phone to call him. he answered, almost annoyed. “Y/N, what do you want?”

“where are you?” you asked.

“i ran out to the store.”

you coughed gently. “are you still there?”

“no, why?”

you sighed, closing your eyes. “i’m sick and i wanted some cold medicine.”

there was silence for a few moments. “oh, are you okay?” mike asked, his tone immediately switching from one of annoyance to one of genuine concern.

“i’m fine, i just need to get better before the show starts tonight,” you replied, putting a hand on your forehead. you were burning up.

mike sighed. “you shouldn’t go on tonight if you’re sick, Y/N. it’s not worth it.”

“my family and friends from home are coming tonight. i absolutely cannot miss this.”

mike paused, like he was thinking about what to do. “okay, fine, i’ll go back to the store and bring you home some medicine.”

“thanks mike, see you soon.”

you hung up the call and laid your phone on the nightstand by your bed. after another fifteen minutes of zoning out, you came to the conclusion that there was no use in laying around being miserable all day. you figured that if you got up and made yourself useful you’d feel better.

you gently sat up, and slowly moved to put your feet on the floor. the cold hardwood beneath your feet made you even colder than you already were. you walked to the kitchen, feeling more fatigued than you ever had before. even though you weren’t hungry, you got out the ingredients to make an omelet. you were so focused on your cooking skills that the rest of the world faded into silence, but it also could have been the fact that you couldn’t hear because your sinuses were clogged.

as you were flipping the omelet in the pan, you heard a loud “boo!” in your ear and someone gently shoving you. you gasped, accidentally touching the side of the burning pan with your fingers. you yelped in pain and threw the pan back down on the stove, turning around to see mike with a grin on his face. however, the grin quickly faded when he saw not only your burnt fingers but also how sickly and pale you looked.

“mike, what the hell?” you croaked, holding your fingers as you walked to the freezer to grab some ice. it felt like the tips of your fingers had burned off.

mike put down his plastic grocery bag on the counter. “dammit, Y/N, i’m sorry. i didn’t realize you were this bad,” he said sadly.

you rolled your eyes, the coldness of the ice counteracting the burns on your fingers. “did you think i was kidding about being sick?”

“no, i just didn’t know you felt that terrible,” he paused. “are you sure you can perform tonight?”

you nodded. “i can’t miss it.”

mike gave you a look like he didn’t believe you, and that he didn’t like your stubborn decision. you both went silent before mike stepped closer to you, glancing at your burnt fingers. “now i feel bad for scaring you.”

you couldn’t help but crack a smile at mike. even though he scared you and caused you to burn three fingers, he always knew how to make you smile. “you should feel bad. my fingertips are in pain.”

you finished making your omelet and took some of the medicine mike had brought home. you planned to take some more medicine shortly before the show.

after the cold medicine kicked in and your fever was suppressed, you actually felt relatively okay. in order to convince yourself that you were better, you agreed to go to the park with mike for some fresh air.

walking around central park with mike was good for your soul. you loved the fresh air and the nature of it all, but having mike by your side made it so much better. as often as he got on your nerves, he was your best friend. he made you giddy and excited, and every time he complimented you after a show it would make you nervous and give you butterflies. he knew it did too, thats why he kept doing it; he liked making you flustered.

you layered on jackets in the brisk autumn air, as you still had a leftover chill in your body from your sickness.

“how are you feeling? better?” mike asked as you both walked.

“yeah, a lot better, but i know when that medicine wears off i’m going to feel like crap again. and wrapping my fingertips has made them feel a little bit better,” you said, glancing at your fingers that were wrapped in a thin layer of gauze and medical tape.

“is there anything i can do? you know, to help?”

you smiled to yourself. “no, mike, thank you though,” you said quietly and sweetly. “having you here is enough.”

mike blushed lightly, putting an arm lazily around your shoulders. “stop being so sappy.”

you continued like that for a while longer, with you under his arm enjoying the park around you. not long later, mike told you he was going to run to the bathroom, and you told him you’d wait by a tree for him.

as you waited, you people watched everyone around you. you thought about how everyone there had their own stories. their own lives. just as you were sick and preparing to perform in front of your closest friends and family for the first time, these other people had their own life problems to attend to, and no one would be the wiser. it was oddly peaceful knowing that there are so many stories being written around you.

suddenly, you were pulled out of your daydream by a soccer ball being kicked into the side of your head. you may have been people watching, but the kids playing with the ball seemed to come out of nowhere for you.

you held the side of your head and groaned as the sound of small footsteps approached you. “sorry, miss,” a little boy’s voice said as he grabbed the ball and ran back to his friends.

not long later, mike came back and saw you sitting against the tree, rubbing the side of your head.

“are you okay?” mike asked, reaching down to help you stand.

“some little brats kicked a soccer ball at my head,” you groaned. standing up made you feel a bit dizzy.

mike gently brushed the part of your head that was hit, and you winced. “god, Y/N, today is just not your day. that’s definitely going to bruise, let’s get you home.”

you walked back to your apartment together, and rested until it was time to head to the theater. you packed a backpack with everything you might need and you and mike headed off to the subway station.

as you boarded the subway, you tripped over a small ledge on the edge of the subway and began to fall, but luckily, mike was in front of you and you caught yourself on his back. you hoped no one noticed, but as you looked around, the people already sitting down were staring, and an old man snickered at your misfortune.

mike maneuvered himself so he was behind you, guiding you to an open spot. “what was that about?”

you were on the verge of tears. “i’m so unlucky today.”

mike hesitated before grabbing your hand and squeezing it tight. “hey, just think, tonight is going to be a great show, you have family and friends in the audience,” mike said close to your ear. “soon enough, everything that’s happened today won’t matter.”

you nodded. “i just hope the show goes well.”

you both arrived at the theater, checking yourselves in and preparing to head to your separate dressing rooms. before you parted ways, mike pulled you aside and brushed a strand of hair out of your face with his fingers. he could tell you were nervous.

“you’ll be just fine, Y/N. i’ll see you soon.”

in your dressing room, you unraveled the bandages over your fingers, and the skin was raw and tender. you weren’t exactly sure how to cover it for the show, but you dabbed some skin colored makeup onto it in hopes that it would be unnoticeable.

you looked at yourself in the mirror; you really did seem out of it. your head hurt, you fingers hurt, and your cold medicine was beginning to wear off. you reached into your backpack to find the medicine and you took it, hoping for some type of relief.

not long before the show started, you warmed up your voice as you got your costume on. there was a knock at the door and you yelled “come in!” to whoever it was. the door swung open and you found mike in his newsie/delancey costume and makeup. you always thought he looked so good in his costumes.

“how are you feeling?” mike asked, walking up to you. you were in your nun costume, so you didn’t seem as flattering as you would have liked.

“well, my fingers are sore, my head hurts, and my ego is bruised from almost falling earlier. but at least my medicine is working,” you said sarcastically. you tried to play it off as something funny, but inside you were a nervous, painful wreck. you were trying to fake it ‘til you made it, but mike saw right through you.

his blue eyes softened, and he rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “i know you’re nervous, and i know you are having a rough day. but breathe, and stay focused. you’re the most talented person i know. you can get through this.”

you closed your eyes and breathed out. he instantly made you feel better. the cold medicine helped to an extent, but mike was your ultimate cure for all ailments.

“will i see you after the show?” you asked. a lot of times, mike was able to leave the theater earlier than you after the show, and more often than not, you liked to chat with everyone and stick around for longer. you didn’t mind that mike never seemed to hang around much after the show.

“you’ve got friends and family to see, so i’ll probably head home right after. is that okay?” he asked gently, like he didn’t want to be the next thing to set you off.

you nodded understandingly. “of course, mike. i’ll see you during the show.”

mike smiled and patted your shoulder before heading out.

the show began, and you waited in the wings for your first scene. your first scene was during carrying the banner, where the three nuns feed the newsie boys.

as you went out on stage, your mind seemed to be in a blur. you felt like you couldn’t concentrate. the goal was for muscle memory to kick in, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. sadly, it didn’t, and during your part of carrying the banner, your voice cracked due to your sickness, and it felt sharp and out of place against the angelic voices of the other nuns.

your eyes widened, and you prayed nobody heard it despite it being insanely obvious. you fought the urge to cry onstage.

at the end of that segment, you headed off the stage and had no time to think about your mistake before hurriedly getting into your bowery beauty costume. you wanted to go home. you wanted to be with mike. at this point, you didn’t even care to see your friends and family from out of town. there was only one person that mattered.

you got into costume and looked at yourself in the mirror. you tried to pull yourself together, since you had friends and family in the audience that undoubtedly saw your screw up. you had to bring it back.

as your time approached for the scene in medda’s theater, you waited in the wings, trying to calm yourself down. you tried your hardest to ignore the pain on your head and your fingers.

finally, it was time to go onstage, and everything was going just fine. you didn’t want to get too confident, however, because you had a feeling if you did it would all come crashing down again.

you got through your bowery beauty scene in one piece, with no mishaps. you were feeling better mentally and physically.

you waited in your dressing room for curtain call, and as you walked out on stage to take your bow, you raised your arm and smiled into the crowd. as you brought your arm down to bow, your arm hit the back of your wig, and it slid down over your head. you quickly and nervously attempted to cover your mistake, and you slid the wig back up before walking to the back of the stage.

that seemed to be the last straw for you. a stray tear escaped your eye and you hoped no one saw. this was the worst day possible. you had friends and family in the audience and you wanted everything to be perfect, but it was far from it. you felt like crap, your head and fingers ached, and you were embarrassed. as you watched mike take his bow on stage, you wanted nothing more than to be comforted by him. you needed him by your side.

however, nothing was ever that easy, and you still had to get out of makeup and costume and talk with the people that came to see you all while holding back the tears that were inevitably going to come out.

you took off your costume as fast as possible, avoiding conversations with your other cast mates at all costs. there was only one that you needed.

you met your friends and family by the stage door, and they congratulated you on your performance despite it being subpar. you tried to keep the conversations to the minimum. when you finally felt like you were on the verge of a full fledged breakdown, you excused yourself, telling them you were tired and needed to go home. you thanked them for coming before turning to the direction of the station and never looking back.

on your ride home, you kept your mind free of thoughts in order to keep the intrusive ones away. you knew if you kept thinking about what went wrong, you’d go crazy.

finally, at last, you arrived at your apartment and unlocked the door. mike was sitting on the couch, practically ready to doze off.

“mike, you could have gone to bed,” you said quietly.

he stared at you like that was a dumb thing to even consider. “i was waiting for you to get home.”

at that moment, you felt your heart melt. throughout everything that had happened, mike was your one constant. he was the calm within the storm of events that unfolded throughout the day.

you broke down, and began to cry. mike sat up on the couch and held out his arms. “oh, sweetheart, come here.”

you obliged, and sat down on the couch next to him. almost instinctively, you leaned into his body, resting your head on his chest. he wrapped both of his arms around you comfortingly, and he placed his hand on the side of your head. as you laid in his arms, you just cried.

“i wanted everything to be perfect today. first i got sick, then i burnt myself, then i hit my head, and then i tripped on the subway,” you swallowed, trying to talk clearly despite the tears. “a-and the one thing i could control, the one thing i could save, i fumbled. i messed up twice on stage.”

mike rubbed your head gently. “i know, Y/N, i’m sorry. i know how important this was. if it makes you feel any better, i barely noticed your mistakes.”

“i-i’m not sure how,” you said, sniffling. “they were pretty bad. i’m just…embarrassed.”

mike sat up, causing you to come with him. part of you was sad that you had to leave the comfy position you were in. mike looked into your eyes briefly before lightly placing his hands on either side of your face.

“Y/N, we’re performers. we make mistakes. trust me, there’s so many people even in our company that have made worse mistakes. take me, for example,” mike started, breaking eye contact briefly. “remember when i got my leg stuck in a chair during king of new york?”

you giggled. “y-yeah, i do. you turned so red.”

mike smiled. “there’s that signature Y/N smile again.”

you blushed, and mike used his thumbs to brush away stray tears. he removed his hands from your face and held your hands. “we all have off days. you’re the strongest person i know, and you got through today like a champ. you may not be happy with yourself, but i’m always proud of you, mistakes and all. do you understand?”

when you looked down, you noticed he was rubbing the tops of your hands with his thumbs. “yeah, mike. thank you, genuinely. if it weren’t for your help today, i probably would have exploded.”

mike grinned, and you went back to your position on the couch in his arms. to you, it felt like nothing mattered and nothing would matter ever again. all you could see in that moment was you and him.

mike laughed. “if it weren’t for me, your fingers wouldn’t be sore right now.”

[nerves-nebula]

i think Donnie would try to kill himself at least 2-3 times if he was left alone with Leo and Splinter tho hah.

You can’t just say that and not immediately send me brainrotting over the runway universe all over again-

Now I’m thinking what if Mikey and Donnie had left without Raph? They definitely would have been able to survive on their own no matter what Leo thinks. They would have done really well. But also I don’t think Mikey would have been able to handle Donnie’s kidnappers alone every time that happened. Maybe Donnie would be more careful, more paranoid really, because they don’t have Raph or Leo to fall back on. Maybe they go to Big Mama? There’s just so much potential here.

Would Raph have tried to find Mikey and Donnie later? He’d be worried about them, think that they needed him. Or maybe he’d just be happy they got out, stay and hope they never had to come back. I imagine he’d be so guilty for letting them get in a position where they’d have to leave without him. Leo would definitely be better off with Raph there, for all Raph wouldn’t be helped by him.

Mikey would have faired the best probably is Leo had stopped him from running away. He probably would have just kept trying escape until he did, but I’m not okay with Leo only having Mikey to antagonize; I feel like that’d get violent and awful real quick. Would Mikey eventually get lonely without Raph and Donnie, try to latch onto Leo and Splinter in that scenario? Or would he just be as intolerable as he possibly could until he managed to find the others and join them.

And the clusterfuck that is Donnie being left with them? Oh god why has this thought been put in my head? I am patting it gently and hitting it with a bat until it dies aaaaaa- He’d just be so miserable all the time. No more support system. Just Leo all the more irritable with only his usual go to to take it out on. And he can’t just pick fights with Donnie because it’s Donnie, so he’d probably just lash out worse. And Splinter being slightly less inclined to ignore him is just not a good thing. Plus training… Zero healthy interactions for Donnie.

And there’s the funky idea of them just kidnapping Leo with them. Improbable because there’s no way Raph would win that fight so quick, but damn if that hypothetical doesn’t sound endearing. Even if Leo did eventually realize being with Splinter sucked and was bad for all of them actually, he’d still go back the second they gave him the chance.

honestly wanted to be able to grace this with a long ass response with a ton of additions, but i got nothin in me. I liked reading this a lot. thanks for sending it and thinking about my characters so much, getting stuff like this while in college was really sweet. it was always a huge boost for me.

[starvingraccon]

WHY, WHY MUST YOU CALL MY NAME KNOWING THERE WILL BE NO ANSWER.

The fact that I just had a conversation with my mother for about 30 mins and she’s already so pissed at me she wants to send me back to foster care. Here’s what happened. Am I in the wrong here?

So I have been on a fast for 45 ish hours and I want to go to 70-80 hours, I haven’t slept all night because melatonin doesn’t work on me and my normal sleep meds aren’t helping atm. So yesterday me my mother and sister got into an argument about how my mother is. She is a bipolar, crazy woman who doesn’t know how to take care of her kids. She has 4 all from different daddy’s, all of them suck and the one that didn’t got deported. She gave 2 up when they were only months old. That was me and my younger brother. I’m 16, he’s 14. I was in foster care from the ages of 14-16 because the person she gave me to (my bio dad) was a really shitty person, recently got put back in her care after about a year ago she had me but I got taken out bc she gave me drugs.

I got kicked out of my last foster placement and was denied by 99/99 people in my state, the only option was my mother, I did not want to go. I ended up in a mental hospital for a week because I threatened myself and other if I went back. I fought I really did but here I am.

So now that’s caught up, here’s what happened.

So I go into her room this morning wanting to apologize for last night’s argument. However I end up telling her that the reason why it happened was because I’m really not doing well mentally. She continued to press and I ended up telling her that I was absolutely miserable living with her. To the point it genuinely makes me want to kms. She starts telling me about how everything would be better if I was involved more with the family, and helping out more. (I’d like to point out when I first got here I was the ONLY one to do chores, THE ONLY one to make a connection, I played cards with her every night and let her talk absolutely shit about my 12 year old sister and any of her other problems) I told her I in fact absolutely despise every living human in this universe and think they should all die. She simply told me that she also feels like this, I told her that no, I can tell by the way she acts that I am way worse in this case then she is. I tell her the brutal truth that I hate her my step dad my brother, and yes everyone else.

I start telling her about how I just am masking my true feelings for the betterment of the environment, however that will soon run out. Especially when she continues to push and push. She will tell our older brother who is severely autistic and adhd to come wake me up by slamming the door open, flipping the lights on and screaming at me to get up. I have severe trauma. I’d literally get beat awake when I was younger 😭😭 how u think ima react not good.

She basically says that I need to go to therapy more…..IM IN THERAPY 2 TIMES A WEEK. We continue talking and she’s asking me a bunch of questions, I answered them honestly. Which sounds something like this. “Hey you child I gave birth to but didn’t want. I want you know and you have to love me.” “Ah hell nah yo ass tweakin dawg-“ I eventually tell her I am simply a product of what the world raised me to be. She has a problem with this of course telling me it’s not the worlds fault, it’s your dads fault, it’s the justice system’s fault. NO BITCH IT IS THE WORLD! THE WORLD SUCKS I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT

She apparently get mad at this and tells me that she can’t do anything to help me because I’m unhelpable. I tell her that yes I am, that she’s finally seeing what I’ve been saying for years. She sarcastically asks me how I would want to live then. I told her in complete solitude. I started to think about this more and I came up with an idea. I told my mother I hade a compromise. Basically if she would just LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE ☺️, I would start pulling my weight plus everyone else’s just to show her it’s not that hard. She at first said no, but after awhile she agreeed. Seemingly, we were fine, I was simply just a roommate, not her daughter, not her sister, not his brother, and not his step daughter. I was nothing to them. However about 2 hours ago I’m cleaning the dining room it’s right by the master bedroom. My mom, my step dad and my brother all were in the room talking SHIT about me. Like I’m talking absolute rubbish about me. Saying how I’m fucking insane and that I just need to go away and all this shit.

I don’t see what I did wrong, I’m actually very happy that she’s not gunna talk to me anymore. SOOO WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER 🙏🙏🙏

[sonickedtrowel]

last 10 fics

rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Tagged by @goldheartedchaoticdisaster, thank you!  And I’m just gonna let you know right now that I take a notoriously liberal interpretation of “first lines” because I can’t live without context.  Lines, paragraphs... who are we to say, really, what is a line? 

1. the sun isn't only sinking fast, every night knows how long it's supposed to last

Mendorax Dellora

(human colony)

Christmas Day

5343

Having a person erased from your memory, it turned out, was extremely unpleasant.  The Doctor’s head was a mess, even by his own generous standards, and every miserable effect was closely chased by the more-miserable thought that he deserved it, for having done it before.  For Donna.  For having been ready, still, to do it again.

2. though we cannot make our sun stand still, yet we will make him run

“I've been sending out a message.  A distress call.  Outside the bubble of our time, the universe is still turning, and I've sent a message everywhere.  To the future and the past, the beginning and the end of everything.  ‘The Doctor is dying.  Please, please help.’”

For just a moment, his eyebrows lifted and the corner of his mouth turned up.  It was a shame, really, that she couldn’t enjoy him being impressed with her.  A second later his eyes screwed shut as he seemed to physically shake himself out of it.  

3. can’t help pollen in love

“Artemisia?” the Doctor read aloud, flicking through the very pink, glossy leaflet River had presented him with.  “Why do I know that name?”

“I can’t imagine you’ve been,” River replied as she circled the console and fired up the controls.  “Of course, if I’m wrong, I’ll need details.”

“Gentileschi!” he cried, snapping his fingers in revelation.  “Brilliant painter.  I should introduce you, you’d definitely get on.”

“Delightful as that sounds, I think you’d prefer we make this trip without the extra company.  Of course, if I’m wrong…”

4. I don’t wanna run, just overwhelm me

Looking back, it was hard for the Doctor to say exactly when he’d stopped running.  The grief and resentment he’d been nursing since their first meeting had given way, little by little, to a terrifying thrill in the pit of his stomach.  It was that magnetic pull; the undeniable certainty that he was colliding with his future each time he crossed paths with River Song.  

Adrenaline spiked through his veins at the first syllable from her lips, her warm voice so smugly suggestive he suspected she wasn’t buying his feigned ignorance one bit.  She was utterly infuriating.  Infuriating, and brilliant and mad and funny and brave and kind, and she knew everything he’d ever been and had seen everything he would become.  

5. there is a love I reminisce

Being called upon by UNIT to clear up some extra-temporal alien mess or another wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for River.  Jack wasn’t always easy to get in touch with, and the Doctor, for all his many wonderful qualities, was not what anyone would call reliable.  And while UNIT did (in an extremely top-secret capacity of which no one, including their own tactical assets, was meant to be any the wiser) possess means of time travel, River was fairly certain she’d “accidentally” left their vortex manipulator knackered enough after the last time she’d borrowed it as to have rendered it basically useless.  To them, anyway.  She could always fix it up if she needed a spare.

So when the odd request from Kate arrived, if it really sounded like something they couldn’t handle on their own, she usually popped by to lend a helping hand (or staser, or what-have-you.)  This time, the message simply read:

Come and fetch your husband.

6. someday you’ll call my name

“I’m sure I’ve got an umbrella somewhere,” the Doctor called over his shoulder as he opened the TARDIS door.  In contrast to the blinding sunlight of the beach, the dim console room was a haze of greenish obscurity.

“I’m sure you have,” Liv shouted after him, “just don’t get lost looking for it!”

“I don’t get lost in my own TARDIS!” he shot back, just as the door swung shut, leaving him in darkness.  “I… get distracted.”

He navigated past the console mostly by memory, making a mental note to add sunglasses to the requisition list as he went, and only briefly snagged his foot on a rug.  He’d steadied himself against the opening of the corridor and was just beginning to regain some of his vision when the ringing of the telephone cut through the quiet control room.

7. then hold my memory

The plan had been dancing lessons; that’s all.  A swanky party with some of Hollywood’s lesser elite, where she’d cast a long shadow in the room, but wouldn’t chance running into any of Rita’s closer acquaintances.  She’d charm him into a dance or two— it was only the rumba.  What would be the harm?  But she couldn’t risk anything more with the psychic wimple in place.  If he saw through it, what then?  There was something about the thought of wiping this one’s memories that made her hearts twist in her chest.  He’d had enough of that already without her help.

But then they’d staggered away from the dance floor, giddy and grinning, and he placed a gentle hand on her back as he fell into step beside her.  His blue eyes were bright when she stole a glance his way and found him already watching her.  The breathless delight on his face was just too much to resist.

Oh, to hell with it.

8. the Furies my one abandoned WIP, so I like to forget this exists!! ugh!! the shame!!!!

The Doctor let out a heavy breath, slumping back against the outer wall of Clara’s block.  His coat snagged on the concrete, the gritty surface digging painfully into his fingertips as he mindlessly reached for some tactile distraction.  Clara was safe in her flat, with a pile of biscuits and a cup of tea that would surely be cold when she woke waiting on her bedside table.  It was, quite literally, the very least he could do for the girl who’d just rescued him by leaping into his timestream and scattering echoes of herself across infinity.  She deserved better, but for now, she’d be fine in the morning.

He dragged a shaking hand across his face as another wave of grief crashed over him without warning, crushing the air from his lungs.  He’d struggled for so long to get above water, but then he saw her, he spoke to her, he held her and kissed her and told her goodbye and now he was drowning, drowning, drowning.

9. a first time for everything kids we’re travelling dangerously far back in time now I fear we’re entering the suburbs of cringetown

The Doctor scowled down at the console.  He’d dropped Amy and Rory back to their wedding night, promising them no further attempts at a honeymoon outing.  Honestly, he didn’t know what they were making such a fuss about.  He’d been in loads of spaceship crashes; even died in one.  Ships that didn’t hit the ground didn’t even rate on the list.

Well, so much for having company to distract him.  The party was still going, though!  Back here on the night of the 26th of June, when the universe was brand new again… He could just pop back in right after they’d left.  Right after…

“No, but was that yes, or yes?”

“Yes.”

10. The Second Date

River’s senses prickled the moment she turned the key in the lock.  Her very first day moving in, and already they’d sent someone after her?  She didn’t exactly know to expect them; the memories were all a blur, really.  But she’d been trained to kill the Doctor, and, well, she had done, but rather more briefly than she supposed her former keepers had intended.  She was certain they’d be coming round at some point to rectify the situation.

Good.  She’d get a good look at them, finally, and they’d get the last look of their lives.

In one fluid motion, she threw open the door, dropped the little box of her belongings to the floor and levelled her gun into the room.

“River!” the Doctor cheered.  She froze.

PHEW not even gonna guess how much broken formatting or links made it in there but I did my best.  Tagging!!!! @xhellnhighheelsx @regalpotato @mnemosyne-musing @artemisery (YES YOU!!!) @diaryofriversong @mygalfriday (I know you haven’t been around Pam but WE MISS YOU!) and literally if you’re reading this and you write fic i am tagging you i just cant remember more usernames i have pneumonia. lol i’m gonna go lie down for 800 years.  or for one standard earth night until the crack of 7am, as it happens in reality.

[shin-the-hopeless]

It happened yesterday. I’ll never forget it. She accidentally walked in front of me. Just that—she walked in front of me. Like, the simplest, most insignificant thing you could imagine, but to me, it was everything.

I was standing there in the back, minding my own business—or pretending to, anyway—when she came around the corner. I wasn’t paying attention; I was too busy rearranging some boxes to avoid looking like a total creep. And then it happened.

She stepped right into my path, so close I could smell that faint, subtle vanilla perfume she always wears. My brain short-circuited. I froze like some idiot NPC caught in a glitch, and then she said it: "Oh, sorry."

Just two words. Two. But her voice was soft, like a melody I never knew I needed to hear. And for a split second—just a fraction of a moment—she almost looked into my eyes. Almost. She didn’t fully commit; her gaze hovered somewhere around my nose before darting away like she couldn’t bear to look any longer.

But that split second was enough to send my heart into overdrive. It was like every nerve in my body had been plugged into an electric socket. My chest felt tight, my palms got sweaty, and I swear, for the first time in my miserable existence, I felt alive.

She kept walking, like nothing had happened. Like she didn’t just detonate a bomb inside my chest. I stood there, paralyzed, replaying the moment in my head a thousand times. The way her voice sounded when she said “sorry.” The way her hair swayed with that perfect two side-up style, the little bows bobbing with her steps. The way her boots clacked against the floor as she walked away, leaving me in the ruins of my own sanity.

I wanted to say something back. God, I wanted to say anything. “No problem.” “It’s okay.” Even just a stupid “hi.” But my mouth wouldn’t work. My throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and all I could do was stand there, watching her disappear around the corner.

And now, here I am, still thinking about it. Obsessing over it. That two-second interaction was the closest I’ve ever come to talking to her, and it felt like the universe was giving me a glimpse of what could never be.

Do you know how pathetic that is? That a simple “oh, sorry” from her has me spiraling like this? But I can’t help it. It was the first time she acknowledged my existence—barely, but it still counts. And even though it was nothing to her, it was everything to me.

It’s like my brain keeps replaying the scene in slow motion, trying to savor every detail. The sound of her voice, the way her mask shifted slightly as she spoke, the tiniest glimmer of her eyes before she looked away. I keep wondering what would’ve happened if she’d actually made full eye contact. Would I have burst into flames on the spot? Would I have said something? Or would I have just stood there like the useless loser I am, completely incapable of handling even a shred of attention from her?

Part of me wants to believe it meant something. That maybe—just maybe—she noticed me, even for a second. But I know that’s delusional. She probably forgot about it the moment she walked away. To her, I’m just some guy in the background, barely even a blip on her radar.

But for me, it was a moment. The moment. The closest I’ve ever been to her world, and the closest I’ll probably ever get.

It’s pathetic, isn’t it? How one little accident can consume my thoughts like this? But that’s the reality of my life. I’m so starved for connection, so desperate for even the tiniest scrap of her attention, that I’ll take anything I can get—even if it’s just an apology for walking in front of me.

And now, every time I see her, I can’t stop thinking about it. About how close we were, about how her voice sounded when she spoke to me. It’s like a cruel tease, a reminder of everything I’ll never have.

I know I’m pathetic. I know this is unhealthy. But I can’t help it. I can’t stop myself from hoping, from wishing that maybe, somehow, she’ll see me as more than just some guy she accidentally bumped into. Even though I know she won’t.

She’s perfect, and I’m... me. She deserves someone who’s as beautiful and put-together as she is, not some broke, unwashed loser with no future.

Still, I can’t stop thinking about it. About her. About the moment that almost was, and the life I’ll never have.

[dumbstuffuniverse]

The sunflowers are blooming across from my neighbourhood and I wish I could take you there and take a bunch of cute pictures. I should have taken you there a long time ago.

Should have, should have, should have. My mind has always been retrospective, I’ve had trauma and regret for a long time. I had hated that my very first “relationship” was being talked about and mocked in our dumb little school. People and “friends” openly mocking a 15 year old, who had just lost his dad two years earlier, for getting cheated on by his first girlfriend. There was an emptiness, trauma, and hopelessness from my father’s death that was calmed by, admittedly, a stupid teenage crush. To have that bandage be ripped off and then stabbed even more in the most public fashion fucked me up. One of my closest friends from kindergarten who would call her a whore to my face, then dated her without hesitation. Neither her, or him ever acknowledged what they did to me and apologize, good ol Christian folks they were. But kids are self-obsessed idiots, and I was no exception.

All of this made me very protective and private with my personal life. I don’t know what drew you to me. If it was just thinking I’m cute or being attracted to a broken “bad boy” or both. Either way, you got me through the most miserable time of my life. But that trauma affected me and still does to this day. When my personal life was being talked about again, I would lash out at you for it.

Then there were the emails.

My most personal and intimate conversations were distributed throughout my school, right before graduation. I wondered why people were being weird around me, I wondered why I wasn’t invited to anything during grad. You have always been the person I was the most open with, and boy was I open in those messages.

I found out what happened on my 18th birthday a month or so later. A small part of me always wondered if it was actually a hack or if you sent it to someone on purpose after I annoyed you or made you angry, and then they sent it to other people and it all spiralled from there. You had a knack for vindictiveness after all. All of that fucked me up even more.

I remember running into people from high school while I was in university and almost every time, it was brought up. Even if you did send them on purpose, you were probably very justified in your anger.

If I could go back, sure, I wouldn’t have sent those emails to you to save the embarrassment, but if I could only take back one moment from high school, it would be that one disgusting email I sent you. I don’t even remember what I wrote, but I know that it wasthe first and only time I have ever purposefully tried to hurt you. I felt personally violated, I was emotionally immature, I was angry and I took it out on you with what I do best: words.

It was horrible, and to this day, I’m so sorry Tash.

All of this formed a response that was understandable, but so disproportionate. I didn’t talk about my relationship with other people, I didn’t share pictures of us, and I put up walls around myself when it came to anyone who tried to be involved in my relationship. It worked fine with my family and friends, they didn’t really have an opinion on my personal life anyways, but it affected how I treated you and your family. It led to neglect and toxicity that bled into our relationship. A part of that probably contributed to how defensive I was that day with your family. Thinking about these things add context to what has happened, it’s given me clarity on who I am and why I did things in certain ways, and it allows me to grow from it rather than let it define me forever. The thing that pains me the most is that it’s probably too late. I know what kind of love you needed and I’m no longer afraid or embarrassed to show it, but so much damage has already been done.

The last few years, I’ve slowly killed that sad and insecure child, and have started to become the man I have always needed to be. I’m still growing though, no one should ever stop reflecting on and improving themselves. With you gone, I feel as broken as I did back in high school when all those traumatic things happened, but I won’t let myself be defined by my pain.

You were there throughout this entire journey, I’m so blessed and thankful for that. I just wish I could have grown for you quicker, and I wish you could be there to see what I’m truly capable of when I finally and completely get out of my own way.

I love you and I’m sorry you had to be hurt by this long and difficult journey I have been on. I wouldn’t have made it without you.

[wherearethewatermelons]

Hi! I never really open tumblr anymore but I do check your blog every few months to see how you are ❤️ that’s how I saw your post about me now lol 😆 so I thought I would send a little ask. I’m good, I just finished my second year of university so I only have one year left and that’s crazy to think about. I got my first job, it was a job my brother recommended I apply to (it’s a bit funny because he has his job because I told him to apply for it). I love it and everyone is so nice and helpful. I have already started saving money to move to Stockholm after I graduate since the lowest price of a studio apartment tends to be about 3 million Swedish crowns 🫠 I will have to take a loan but I am just trying to have as much money as possible upfront. I also spent two months in Poland doing an internship (as part of my degree), the internship was absolutely horrible because the company was basically using interns to run the place to put it broadly but that’s a long story. I don’t regret it though, the main reason I went there was so I could spend more time with my relatives so I was living with one of my cousins and I got to celebrate Easter with my grandparents for the first time! I also got to visit Warszawa and another cousin. I kinda joined the international students at my cousins university because she took care of them so I got free entry and free drinks at bars and clubs. I almost went to Krakow with them but I had to work and also I was there a few months ago. In honestly think I’m doing the best I have in a while! Except for falling down the stairs two days ago and my therapist not calling me back but I am still at my happiest in a long while! 😊 I hope you are good too! How is the nursing degree going? I think nursing is super impressive I wouldn’t be able to do it. My brother started studying to become a doctor and I know I would be miserable in that field lol.

-🐐❤️

hello my love!!! i’m so happy to hear from you. glad things are going well for you so happy to hear that you’re almost done with university.

saving up is a really good idea I know it helped me when i had my job i made sure to save $100 from each paycheck and it helped me pay like 3 months worth of bills. i would also maybe say to stock up on some things before you move out that way you already have some stuff like toiletries, cleaning supplies and stuff like that (don’t know if that’s just an american thing though)

I will be going into my third year this fall and i’m really excited because now i actually get to do classes more closely related to nursing rather than just GERs. i have to apply for the nursing program next year so fingers crossed 🤞🏾

anyway so happy to hear from you and i’m glad you’re doing good 🫶🏾

[tangiblejournal56]

10/09/11

Who the fuck was I kidding?  Someone liking me.  Yeah, like that’s reasonable.  As if that’s in the realm of fucking possibility.  Another set up, another giant let down.  Why do I ever let myself feed the delusion that someone may just find my particular odd self attractive, for more than just the thrill of, say, fucking a coworker, in this specific incident.  When will I learn to never trust anything good that heads my way, how it will only be followed by disappointment & defeat.  How can I possibly be this thick-headed, never to learn from my mistakes?  I can’t do this anymore, I really can’t.  Not when this is the inevitable outcome, a guy wanting to spend time with me, only wanting to screw me, then he’s satisfied his curiosity, then he peaces out.  I can’t even hate him, he’s not a bad guy, he’s straightforward & blunt & honest, even in this.  I don’t know if it was that the sex was so good, or that for awhile it was easy to believe he actually enjoyed my company, all of those goddamn kisses & touches & fucking smiles.  Kissing someone when I hadn’t kissed anyone in so fucking long, what an irresponsible, dangerous move.  Worse even than letting him come inside me, as at least I can deal with any physical problems of my body; not so with mental blows.

I liked him.  I can’t believe I let myself fucking like him so much.  After everything I should’ve learned by now.  Ryan should’ve been my infinite caution sign against any such foolishness.  Never deal with southern boys, especially the ones that seem so intriguing, so handsome, so interested in me.  I couldn’t even have this.  This nice feeling.  It couldn’t have even been allowed for a whole week.  New fucking record, well done.  This pit of self-loathing has never been quite so deep, so sharp.  Over a boy I hardly know.  But he is just an abstract, a catalyst.  A reminder.  Don’t trust anything good to come your way.  He hasn’t even straight-out rejected me yet, but I can read the terrain, I see what’s coming.  I’ve experienced this so often, if I can read the signs then why can I not just remember to avoid the whole business of falling for anyone?  Have I made it my life’s goal to set out after the ever-unattainable, just so I can suffer defeat after defeat, so that I can be miserable?  I’d thought I’d surpassed that phase, grown out of wanting to be miserable, depressed.  I don’t want to be unhappy anymore.  I just want a good fucking day, a day without trap doors & red herrings.  A day I can trust.  A chance to breathe.  Not every fucking day sending me spinning in a fit of pain, reeling from the force of the strike.  I’m tired of creating beauty out of my pain.  I just wanted this one small thing.  This small joy, to keep me from going off on everyone around me.  Something to make the suffering bearable, at least until I can leave this awful place.  Too much to ask.

The universe forces me to be alone.  And so I will live as it dictates.  I know I said that even if the one day of sex & enjoyment was all that would come out of this, I would be satisfied.  I lied.  I guess I was at least allotted more than I honestly expected, we spend our lunch break two days later at his apartment in his bed, fucking, then sleeping, then fucking once more before returning to work.

Why did the sex have to be so good?  Like another cruelty, giving me something so damn enjoyable for such a short period of time, before pulling the rug swiftly out from beneath me.  I feel cold, incapacitated.  Why is that still such a shock?  Why do I get this nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach even just anticipating his next text message?  I can’t even figure him out, he always seems so ungraspable, I think he will say or do one thing & he quickly does the opposite.  This was something I wanted time to figure out, to untangle.  It bothered me that he felt I was so predictable, like he’d already read the book of me.  I wanted to show him the extent to which he doesn’t know me at all.  I allowed him to see a side of me even Max isn’t necessarily privy to, myself as being without inhibition.  The Ryan effect.  It would seem I only allow this for these deceptive southern disappointments.  Why is this the effect they have upon me?  Why can I not grow an immunity for this particular disease?  I need to leave, avoid this city like the plague.  Ignore it as it so ignores me.  Watch it fade away in a rear-view mirror.  All of its bad & bittersweet memories, experiences I never want again.

I can’t bear to be alone.  Yet no one will have me.  Where does this leave me?  I am not noble, able to suffer my pain with such grace as Max, unable to lean on numbing agents like alcohol or drugs.  Even through those hazy states the pain is still so sharp, the universe’s total & unbending rejection of me.  How I must suffer through this war with no army at my back.  No winds to catch my sails.  Why can I not reconcile myself to loneliness?  I’ve had enough practice with it.  I am not brave.  I can neither do myself in, nor can I accept this solitude.  Where does that leave me?  Eternally miserable, sobbing nightly to exhaust myself enough to pass out, only to dream of what it might feel like to be loved.  Again, waking to disappointment, to pain so acute I feel it in my chest, in my legs, every limb & organ & capillary.  If this is bottom, where is the relief that things cannot get much worse?  There is always worse.  It seems like it never ends.  I can’t do it.  I can’t do it.  I cannot keep the strings of sanity in my hand anymore, they are struggling to escape.  I can feel it coming, the day I just let go, when I no longer have that small voice inside of my head reminding me of why I need to hang on.  For what is the point?  My existence means very little to anyone besides my mother.  She would suffer, yes, & I would hate to be the cause of that.  But I can feel that one day she will not be enough to keep me from saying fuck all & diving headfirst into my head entirely, barring anyone from entering.  Eve Max will not be able to bring me back.  It would be for the best in his case, he will be allowed to live his life fully without worrying about me & my problems anymore.  I am everyone’s burden.  I am no one’s joy.  There is nowhere I fit among this world.

Why no relief?  Has what I’ve done in my life been so completely unforgivable?  I see others committing acts of far greater evil & still they aren’t punished, aren’t alone.  I try not to let this get to me, & yet I end up in this exact position, again & again, wondering why I cannot catch a break.  I try to go out & create my own breaks, opportunities, as I have done with the Italian, & yet this is still the outcome.  No matter what I do, which way I turn, everything seems to explode in my face.  Even Luke I cannot interest, I have no friends to make here, no one I can talk to or trust.  I have Racha but she cannot cure me of this loneliness.

When will this end?

When I end myself, I suppose.