#it may take me 500 years to see it but i WILL i SWEAR!
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ellethespaceunicorn · 8 months ago
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🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:
Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep
Well, it took me a couple of days but I did it!! Oh, and it's the longest drabble in the world. Did y'all know a drabble is only 100 words???? I thought it was 100-500...I still wrote way more than that, but still.
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Title: No Good Deeds
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader
Word Count: 1.6K
Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.
Prompt: Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep
Warnings: age gap (Ari is mid-40s, Reader is early-20s), yandere Ari, drugging, non-con fingering (f receiving), non-con p-in-v intercourse, non-con creampie, choking, dead dove: do not eat
A/N: Hahahaha this was supposed to be a drabble. Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta!
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
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Moving out on your own isn’t exactly the easiest thing for you. You spent four years living in your college dormitory, but you always had at least one roommate. So, signing a lease and accepting the single set of keys was a huge accomplishment.
Your landlord, Mr. Levinson, is so great. He told you to call him Ari more than once. From the first tour of the apartment to the day of your move-in, he offers his help in many ways. Where the best farmer’s market is, how to reach him if you need any repairs, and even when the local bars close are just a few tidbits he leaves you with.
You get to know him a bit more during a block party one Saturday night. The two of you talk over cheap beer, tamales from Señora Cruz, smoked brisket from Mr. Lorenzo, and lasagna from Mrs. Di Paolo. Ari seems like he is lonely, and your kind heart can’t stand to see someone in need. 
Before you know what you are getting into, you agree to have a weekly tea date with him. It’s during one of those visits that you realize that something is a bit odd about Ari. He tries to cover up how he knows what cabinet you keep your tea in, but he makes up some dumb excuse that it would just be “the perfect spot”.
You excuse yourself to the bathroom as he busies himself with setting the tea, and when you come back, a steaming mug is waiting for you on a saucer on your coffee table. Usually, you make the tea, but Ari wanted to help out, and you had a long day at work, so you accepted.
“What is in this tea? It’s almost spicy,” you ask, taking another big gulp of the tea you don’t recognize.
“Is it spicy? Well, it does have ginger and cinnamon in it. Some chamomile, too. A little benzodiazepine in there,” Ari clambers on, trailing off at the end.
“D-did you say benzo…dia…zep,” you slur, reaching for Ari as you sit on the couch, but you end up passing out with your head in his lap.
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When you come to, you struggle to remember what happened. Your heavy head pounds as you turn it to the side before putting the heel of your hand to your still-closed eyes.
“Take it slow, Bunny. You must’ve been really tired,” he consoles, from the other side of your bed.
“Mr. Levin-”
“Uhn uh. Call me Ari; no more of that Mr. Levinson polite shit, ok?” he swears for the first time in your presence.
“Um, Ari… What are you doing in my bedroom?” you ask, your mind a blank slate from earlier.
“Oh, Bunny. You invited me over for tea, and then you weren’t feeling well, and you asked me to stay until you felt better. Next thing I know, I’m carrying you in here because you fell asleep on me with that sweet little face of yours right in my lap,” he comforts, the knuckles of his hand sliding down your face before he boops your nose.
“Why do you keep calling me Bunny?” you mewl, still trying to get in control of all your limbs.
“When you sleep, you furrow your eyebrows and scrunch up your nose like a little bunny. It’s one of the cutest things you do,” he admires, his hand now moving down your neck and through the valley of your breasts to get to where your skirt rides up your thigh.
“Mr.-Ari…I think I feel better now; you don’t have to-” 
Your words are cut off when Ari reaches under your skirt, and you specifically remember having on panties earlier today, but his fingers are touching your tender pussy directly. Did he take off your underwear?
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Must’ve been all that time I spent rubbing your cute little cunt through those white cotton panties. God, those little moans you were making went straight to my cock, Bunny. Feel it,” he dares, grabbing your hand and resting it against the thick outline of his dick through his Wranglers. 
While your hand is on his length, he shoves two of his fingers into your wet heat. At first, you are surprised by the shock of it. But soon, you can tell that he knows how to work your body. You scream out his name, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he shoves one hand over your mouth and gets close to your ear.
“You’re not gonna ruin this for me. You have been parading yourself around here like you’re some holier-than-thou sweet little thing. And I knew you’d end up letting me smash at some point. But I didn’t wanna wait anymore, Bunny. You have had me wrapped around that little finger of yours since you moved in. It’s time that I get what’s owed to me-what you’ve been flaunting in front of me,” he sneers, pulling his fingers out of you and sucking them clean before opening his pants and pulling his dick out.
He lines up with your sodden core before thrusting in with no grace or elegance. Slamming himself inside your tight snatch for the first time feels like he is splitting you in two. You’re no virgin, but you also don’t have much casual sex, so Ari’s thickness was a shock, to say the least.
“Sweet Bunny, you’re so tight. What a good girl! You’ve been waiting for me like I’ve been waiting for you, huh? Fuck, you’re like a fucking vice. You hear that, Bunny? Hear how that cunt loves it when I fuck it? Love that loud, sloshy pussy,” he beams, his wide hips between your legs making your joints hurt.
You’re in stunned silence as Ari uses your body to chase his release. Your mind is bringing up all the times it seemed like he was getting a little too close for comfort. All the times when he would talk to you about his divorce, or his current dating trend, or the fact that he once told you that a pretty thing like you belonged locked up in a tower for a prince to come and free you.
Did he think he was a charming prince?
“Oh, Bunny, fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Look at me; wanna see your eyes when I cum inside you,” he blurts, holding your face in his hands as you look into his dilated, hungry eyes. “Take it. Just. Like. That.” The last few words are punctuated with thrusts as he paints your walls with thick, milky ropes.
Once he closes his eyes, his hips remain still, and his forehead meets yours. This would be almost romantic if Ari didn’t make it beyond creepy by whispering how perfect you are and peppering kisses all over your face. His softening cock finally slips free from you, and you are happy to be empty until you feel the flow of his semen leaking from you. He notices your discomfort and mocks your whines as he pushes his jizz back into your swollen hole.
“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he starts, moving off of you to recline next to you, “Not gonna leave this bed ‘til you’re knocked up. As soon as you are, I’m gonna move you in with me. You are gonna be well taken care of, too. You are so perfect-every little thing about you. And when the baby comes, we are gonna be the perfect little family. You wouldn’t wanna ruin our family, right? You’re gonna be a good girl for me, huh?” he implores, holding your cheeks in his hand so your lips poke out a bit.
You nod while tears stream from your eyes, finding it hard to form words. But what would you have said? He seems to like you mostly silent; you haven’t uttered a single word since before he was inside you. It wasn’t too late to try, but it was too late to have hope; at least that’s what you told yourself.
“I don’t know about you, but I am starting to get hard again just looking at you. On all fours for me, Bunny. I know you got it in you,” he orders, no kindness in his voice.
You quickly scramble to get on your hands and knees for him and are happy that he is pleased with your speed. As he slides into your sensitive folds again, you grimace but hold in your noises of pain. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you hurt, even though what he is doing is traumatizing. He relishes in the gushy sounds your pairing makes and the mighty “oomph” you make when he wraps an arm around your neck and flattens you down to your belly.
He has you in a chokehold while his hips canter back and forth, plunging his length deeper and deeper inside you. When he hears you start to sputter and gulp in air, he removes his arm from around your neck and holds your face cheek-down on the bed.
“Look at her, taking my cock just like she should. You’ll be the prettiest little wife and mother, won’t you? Gonna keep you nice and round as much as I can. My perfect little Bunny…ugh, fuck,” he blurts, his release surprising him suddenly.
When he pulls out, he smacks your ass and lays down next to you while your life flashes before your eyes. He moves closer to you, readjusting your body to lay on top of his as he rubs your back. He kisses the top of your head in such a kind gesture that you feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears. 
You can’t even bring yourself to fully cry, the tears streaming down your face just to splash on Ari’s denim shirt. Forgotten and dried up to never be seen again.
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A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble!!!!
**Tag List**
I also didn't know who to tag since this is the first time I wrote Ari.
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secretkittywolf · 7 months ago
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House of the Hearth headcannons
headcannons for Arlecchino, Lyney, Lynette & Freminet
Lynette
She has 3 exclusive "modes" that she uses to talk to her family. "Lyney mode" to talk with Lyney. "Father mode" to talk with Arlecchino & "Freminet mode" to talk with Freminet.
She only uses these modes when she's with them and they're alone because these modes allow the family to unwind and be themselves and not have to worry about appearances.
She also has notebooks that she uses to write about the things that they tell her so if it's brought up again in conversation, she knows what they're on about and it's helpful if they ask her a question regarding it.
Lyney
When Lynette enters "Lyney mode" he can freely talk about anything and everything. He knows that Lynette can keep a secret so he can talk about more private and personal stuff and knows that she can keep quiet about it.
He loses that confident personality and he becomes more quiet and sometimes more bubbly. He may talk about children who sees his performances and gets excited whenever they ask for more.
He becomes quiet when it comes to more personal stuff. Performances draining him, nervous about upcoming shows, the prophecy coming true in Fontaine. She does say she'll let "Father" know if it's regarding his health and wellbeing.
Arlecchino
Despite how she seems, she's actually a really sweet "Father". When Lynette enters "Father mode" she becomes more caring and considerate about her daughter and asks her questions . "Are you feeling okay Lynette?" "Is being Lyney's assistant alright for you? It's not too draining is it? I could always ask another child to be his assistant"
Lynette enjoys these a lot since it shows a more fatherly side to The Knave. She won't tell anyone but she loves it when "Father" rants about all sorts. Lynette likes watching her mannerisms, hand gestures, facial expressions, since it's interesting to her.
"That Furina... *deeply sighs* I cannot stand her as an archon! She acts too much like a little kid and it's like she doesn't know how serious this prophecy is. Seriously? Why isn't Neuvillette the archon? He would certainly do a better job. She's such a child! Tea parties over actual planning? No offence to the actual "child" archon Buer, but from what Dottore said, she acts like a true archon, even taking the responsibility as one after being imprisoned for 500 years!"
Arlecchino does act fatherly to her other kids too, especially the younger ones, but these private conversations with Lynette really help her unwind.
Freminet
When Lynette goes "Freminet mode" he sits down, loudly groans and starts discussing. He may seem like a shy, quiet kid but with Lynette, he's a sassy, snarky lil shit. Freminet loves gossiping. Because he's so quiet, people always pour out their problems onto him and he gossips with Lynette about it.
"Did you hear about Caron? Apparently, he and his brother have had a dispute for years over something so stupid! I mean really? Those two should act like the adults that they are and stop acting like children"
Freminet and Lynette enjoy talking with each other since it allows both of them to unwind. "Father" walked in on one of their conversations regarding Lyney and she simply closed the door, sat down and listened, occasionally giving her input.
"Lyney needs to stop treating me like I'm still a little kid. I have talked with him about it but he doesn't listen! I swear, next time he treats me like I'm a child, I may slap some sense into him. Literally"
Just some lil headcannons regarding these four!
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evilhasnever · 9 months ago
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xiyao Pacific Rim au?
Hell yes. I have been thinking about this for about 3 years, but never wrote any of it. I just opened a doc and jotted down this snippet for you! Hopefully someday I can turn this into a whole fic.
I give you 500 words of stranded/traumatized Jaeger pilot Lan Xichen in post-apocalyptic Yunping:
~*~
“Meng Yao… what are you doing?"
“The Kaiju won’t wait for us to run,” Meng Yao replies without taking his eyes off his work, “according to my scanner it is only 160 minutes out, unless it changes course.” The scanner in question looks like it was salvaged from parts, but it is beeping in a very believable, alarming manner.  “We cannot evacuate the town in time, and we are unlikely to save ourselves even if we start running very, very fast. We must fight back.” He dives back elbows-deep in the cockpit with feverish focus, ripping and soldering cords like he knows what each of them does. Lan Xichen is once again overtaken by awe and instinctual faith in this small, brilliant human being.
When Lan Xichen had washed ashore near the refugee encampment, banged up and near-catatonic from the loss of his brother, he had never imagined someone with Jaeger training would be hiding in these backwater ruins. His savior was one Meng Yao of Yunping, a wiry young man in ripped overalls, with too many tools hanging off his belt and too-hard eyes in a gentle round face. As it turned out, his clever mind could rival Lan Xichen’s own AI navigator - he’d taken only a few days to assess the damage to his Jaeger and write up a repair plan.
Twin Jade was stretched out on the beach, looking like a sleeping giant half-covered in brine. She was not in a bad state overall, save for the smashed cockpit - but she was down one co-pilot, so Lan Xichen had given up on resurrecting her altogether. Meng Yao had not.
While Lan Xichen consumed himself with worries over Wangji’s fate and his lack of communications, his savior worked day and night to get both pilot and Jaeger back to some semblance of functionality. (Lan Xichen paused to chuckle over the mental comparison of hot soup for himself and scrapyard parts for Twin Jade, both sourced by Meng Yao with unfailing efficiency).
“The repairs are only temporary," Meng Yao's voice brings him back to the present emergency. "But I can essentially jumpstart her for long enough to keep it running in emergency mode for a couple of hours. I’ll need you to do most of the fighting while I keep an eye on the systems.” 
“You want to pilot with me?” Lan Xichen’s eyes widen.
“Well, you can’t pilot by yourself, can you?” Meng Yao chuckled nervously, without looking back from the console. “And even if you could, your leg is broken.” 
“Drifting can be very dangerous if you have never…”
“I have trained before,” Meng Yao interrupts him. “I can pilot, Lan Xichen. I can,” he swears, pushing his bangs out of his eyes frantically. “I know I am asking a lot, but–”
“I trust you,” Lan Xichen says unthinkingly, reaching out to wipe a smear of grease from his cheek. “I only… wish to apologize for what you may see in the drift.”
Meng Yao only laughs, shaking his head. His eyes are avoidant. “Likewise.”
Neither of them paused to doubt whether they'd be compatible. That much was a given.
Lan Xichen enters the repaired cockpit, leaning all of his weight on Meng Yao. He plugs in with slightly-shaking hands.
It is terrifying to let Meng Yao see all of what you are. But he is scared, too. He is, you realize, more afraid than you are. As if his secrets could be any worse than the monstrosity inside yourself. You smile at him with all the warmth you can muster, smiling past the fears in your head. You suddenly want to see him more than anything.
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damn-stark · 10 months ago
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Chapter 23 You’re an Angel, I’m a dog
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Chapter 23 of Sugar
A/N- WAIT WAIT— “I’ll never be a son.” And “I’ll never be his favorite son.” Fits Choso and mc to a tea especially in this chapter!!!
Warning- Swearing, ANGST, FLUFF, spoilers, NFSW? Not really though it’s light, talks of miscarriage, SLOW BURN, heavy pining, long chapter
Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader
Takes place during- Chapters 145 & 146, and the beginning portion of 203 & 207, of the Manga
(Let me know if you want to be tagged)
————
This is Tengen? This tall pale thing?
You always imagined they’d be more majestic looking considering how old they are and the responsibility they hold, but they look more like a pale four-eyed alien.
“Aren’t you gonna say hello to me Tengen?” Yuki remarks after she was left out of his sudden greeting.
“This isn’t the first time we’ve met Yuki Tsukumo.” They finally address her and they sound annoyed. “Why did you close off the tombs of the Star Corridor? I was afraid you might be in alignment with Kenjaku. After all, I cannot see into the human heart.”
Kenjaku? Who the hell is Kenjaku?
“Kenjaku?” You probe and slide your hands off Choso’s arms now that your fear has subsided.
“The sorcerer who was Noritoshi Kamo and is now inhabiting the body of Suguru Geto,” Tengen shares.
“That name suggests compassion and salvation. Gimme a break,” Yuki snaps.
“Master Tengen, why do you look like that?” Itadori suddenly interrupts, making your eyes widen with bewilderment.
“Itadori,” you scold.
“What?” He asks you over his shoulder as if that question isn’t obviously rude to ask someone.
“You can’t ask someone that,” you whisper sharply. “Even if they are centuries old. You can’t ask that.”
“I was just curious.”
“I may be immortal,” Tengen cuts in, making both Itadori and you look forward, but that was a mistake considering they tug on a creepy-looking smile. “But I'm not immune to aging. After 500 years, you’d look like this too.”
You scrunch your nose in disgust and mentally groan.
You’d rather die than look like that.
“Eleven years ago, after failing to merge with a Star Plasma Vessel.”
“Riko Amanai,” you cut in bitterly, making all eyes fall on you, including all four of Tengen’s—“considering she died trying to get to you, why don’t you have the decency to actually say her name.”
Tengen looks into your eyes, and no matter how intimidating they actually look, you don’t falter, you challenge them and stand by your ground.
“Riko Amanai,” they give in. “After I failed to merge with her my aging accelerated and my self-awareness as an individual diminished. The very world became myself.”
“And that’s why your “voice” doesn’t proliferate,” Yuki adds before Fushiguro raises his hand and politely interjects.
“Excuse me, but…”
“We came to ask about Kenjaku’s objectives,” Okkotsu continues for Fushiguro. “And how to open the prison realm. Will you tell us what you know?”
Your face drops the annoyed hardened expression and paints on a hopeful one as you wait for a solution to your brother's predicament.
“I wish I could simply say yes,” Tengen crushes your hopes. “But there is one condition. Yuta Okkotsu, Yuki Tsukumo, Y/N Gojo…”
Huh?
“…and the Death Painting Womb. Three of you must remain here to serve as my guards.”
You roll your eyes and press your hands on your hips as your annoyance returns.
For someone so mighty they still surely sound human.
And why do they need guards?
“Guards? Aren’t you immortal?” Okkotsu steals the words out of your mind.
“Are you worried about the seal?” Maki chimes in.
“No fair!” Yuki whines. “You haven’t even told us why or for how long we’d have to do it!”
“So then shall I speak of Kenjaku?” Tengen ignores Yuki and everyone else. “His objective is to force the evolution of all human beings throughout the land of Japan.
You nod. “Yeah, yeah, he yapped on about that,” you interject. “We want to know exactly what he intends. Why didn’t he use your barrier that time and turn everyone in Japan into sorcerers via Idle transfiguration?”
“He lacks the cursed energy to do that,” Tengen says. “Cursed energy that has been refined through Uzumaki cannot return to the sorcerer...”
Well, you knew that because of Suguru. You just thought Kenjaku would be different considering he’s old and he has the technique to jump into others’ bodies.
“…triggering an evolution in each individual with a cursed technique is incredibly inefficient. The method of evolution that Kenjaku has chosen is the merging of humankind and me.”
Is that…even possible?
“Is that even possible?” Itadori voices your same concern but in a much louder way.
“Isn’t that impossible for anyone but a Star Plasma vessel?” Fushiguro mutters his question.
“Yes,” Tengen nods. “The way I was before, but now that I have evolved for the past 11 years it would not be impossible for me to merge with someone other than a Star Plasma Vessel.”
Then they should have probably tried to protect Amanai more.
“But you’re only one person right?” Choso asks. “How could you merge with multiple people?”
“I am not what you see before you at the moment,” Tengen explains, making your eyebrows knot with confusion. “My evolved soul exists all around us. As I said, my self is now the world itself. A human who merges with me transforms into something greater than a sorcerer, as a new being that is both there and not there. I posses barrier techniques so I am able to maintain this form and self-control even after evolving. However,” they input. “If humankind evolves, and even if only one person rages out of control the world will end.”
You swallow thickly out of discomfort and shift your stance.
“Why?” Yuki inquiries.
“There would be no boundaries between individuals,” Tengen says. “So evil would spread instantaneously. The impurity of a hundred million people would flood the world. What just happened to Tokyo would happen to the entire world.”
“Why would Kenjaku do that?” You ask for the curious group.
Tengen shrugs stiffly. “I do not know. As I said, I cannot read the human heart.”
Hm.
“So why don’t you just refuse to merge?” Maki asks something that should be simple to solve. Tengen wouldn't be needing guards if it was that simple.
“That is the problem,” Tengen proves you right. “Now that I have evolved I am more cursed spirit than human being. That makes me a target for cursed spirit manipulation.”
You gasp in disbelief and your world then falls silent, and all you can think about is if Miguel was right.
“Considering Kenjaku’s ability as a sorcerer he might be able to seize me the moment we encounter each other,” Tengen continues. “That is why my main body is rejecting everything at the tombs of the star corridor.”
Was it your fault? All this? All because you couldn’t even look at his body after he died?
“And the reason you want guards, right?” Okkotsu asks, making Tengen nod in agreement.
“Yes. Kenjaku is the second-most powerful barrier user after me. I don’t know when he will undo the seal of the tombs.”
Tengen surely fails to answer a lot of questions.
“Why now?” You step forward to ask with growing concern. “Kenjaku prevented a merging with a Star Plasma Vessel and forced your evolution, and wants to consume and control you through cursed manipulation.”
“Apparently he was also involved with Sukuna,” Yuki bounces in. “So he’s been a sorcerer for at least 1,000 years, so why now?”
“I,” Tengen points at their chest. “The Star Plasma Vessel, and the Six Eyes, are all connected by fate.”
You blink and slowly your confusion is replaced by disbelief while realization slowly seeps through.
“In the past, Kenjaku has twice lost to sorcerers of the Six Eyes. The second time, he took no chances and killed the Star Plasma Vessel and Six Eyes less than one month after they were born. Nonetheless, on the day of merging, the Six Eyes and Star Plasma Vessel appeared.”
“Which is why he sealed my brother away, I assume,” you interject with your thoughts.
“Yes, after that Kenjaku switched to sealing instead of eradicating the Six Eyes and began searching for the Prison Realm,” Tengen shares nonchalantly. “Because two bearers of the Six Eyes cannot appear at the same time.”
Hm. Well, thank the stars for that.
“But then the unexpected happened 11 years ago when Toji Zen’in intervened. He was physically gifted through heavenly restriction and on top of that he was an anomaly who had escaped from cursed energy.”
You try not to but you steal a glance at the son of Toji Zen’in, whom doesn’t know thanks to your brother's lack of sharing. It explains his lack of reaction now too because of it.
It sucks! You need him to know already!
“As a human being who had escaped fate through the power of restriction, he destroyed our destinies,” Tengen goes on. “Then came along a boy with cursed manipulation.”
You drop your eyes and frown sadly at the ground.
“Suddenly all the pieces had come together except for the prison realm. Then even that fell into his hands six years ago.”
Almost like fate. Cruel fate.
“So why is the Culling Games happening?” Fushiguro asks, a bit distressed.
“It is like breaking the body prior to merging,” Tengen tells all of you. “It is not impossible to merge with someone other than a star plasma vessel but is highly unlikely and would be incomplete at present. The Culling Games uses the players’ cursed energy and the boundaries binding barriers in a ritual for conveying the human beings of the country to the other side. Through that custom, he will begin the merging with me. However, in order to perform such ritual, Kenjaku has undertaken certain binding vows.��
You know your answer to Tengen’s previous request now. It’s costly for you because you don’t want to be stuck and play a waiting game, but with Okkotsu here, now you can focus on getting Satoru out. So you drown out what they have to say about the Culling Games. If you have to somehow participate in them then you’ll ask for the rules and conditions then.
All that truly matters about them is that the games will continue until every player is dead or until they all refuse to play and die, and that killing Kenjaku won’t stop the games; so that plan is diminished.
You only bring your attention back when Tengen cuts Itadori off to get the answer out of who will stay
“I will stay,” Yuki, Choso, and you volunteer at the same time, making you happy that you don’t have to be stuck with Okkotsu, and that you’ll spend more time with Choso….and Yuki!
You shouldn’t be so enthusiastic, you have your protests after all, but your heart can’t help but jump.
“Yuji, you absolutely need Okkotsu’s or this woman’s cooperation,” Choso interjects seriously so Itadori can understand his brotherly concern. “Especially if Noritoshi Kamo—if Kenjaku comes for Tengen. Ending his life means salvation for my little brothers.”
“And rest for Suguru’s body,” you input your decision, gaining the attention of the room. “So I’ll stay here to help kill Kenjaku, and get the answer on how to get Satoru out.”
“And I’m not done talking to Tengen,” Yuki shares her reasoning for staying. “Is that all right, Okkotsu?”
Okkotsu nods and his eyes almost gleam with relief and joy. “Yeah! I don’t want to leave the others.”
You focus your eyes on Okkotsu and squint slightly before you interject in a menacing voice. “Okkotsu, you help Itadori, understand? Keep the promise you made to my brother.”
Okkotsu eyes quickly find you and his relief and excitement are quick to fall and be replaced by discomfort and nerves.
“Y-yes ma'am,” he quickly assures you, causing you to scoff and then look away to avoid looking at him more than you have to.
“Thank you,” Tengen once again speaks as they begin to reach in a black portal. “This…” they trail off and pull out a dull-looking box with a stitch on one side. “…is necessary for freeing Satoru Gojo.”
You perk up and slowly fill with hope and relief.
“It is the back of the Prison Realm.”
You blink and shift your gaze back to Tengen. “Back?” You question.
“I’ve never heard of that,” Yuki muses.
“You mean like a back gate?” Itadori is finally the first to understand something instead of being the first one to probe.
“Yes, that is right,” Tengen agrees as he keeps the back gate in their large hand. “Before Kenjaku found it, the prison realm was outside my barrier. I believe it was overseas. By sealing this rear gate, I was hiding the existence of the “front”, but it was no use. Satoru Gojo Is also sealed inside the rear gate.”
“Then if we open it can we—”
“No,” Tengen breaks Itadori’s hopes. “The authority to open the gate rests with Kenjaku as the bearer of the “front”.”
Which gives you more reason to stay!
“Breaking it open requires either the inverted spear of Heaven that nullifies cursed techniques or the black rope that disrupts and cancels cursed technique effects.”
The back rope? Miguel’s destroyed black rope?
“But Satoru Gojo sealed the inverted spear of heaven overseas 11 years ago…or destroyed it! Why’d you do that Gojo!” Itadori exclaims and Fushiguro follows to do the same.
“And last year Satoru Gojo got rid of all the black rope! Why’d that guy do that?!”
Okkotsu laughs nervously and you bring your hand up to bite the tip of your manicured nail since you can’t smoke inside.
“Miguel went to Africa in search of more black rope,” you share with the group. “But he found none…isn’t that right, Okkotsu?”
Okkotsu nods. “Yes, it was a fruitless effort.”
You groan and snap your gaze to Tengen. “But there is a way? Right?”
“Yes,” Tengen lets you sigh with relief. “Among the players participating in the Culling Games is a sorcerer from a thousand years ago who calls herself Angel. Her cursed technique can extinguish any cursed energy.”
“She can extinguish cursed techniques?” Fushiguro questions.
“Yes,” Tengen reinstates. “The Angel’s cursed technique can open the “back” of the prison realm.”
“Do you know where she is?” You ask.
“The colony in the east side of Tokyo,” Tengen surprises you by saying, it seems they tend to not know a lot of important answers. “The game barriers reject me, so I don’t have any more information,” he finishes as he puts the back gate back in their portal, leaving Satoru out of arm's reach.
Yeah, you can’t get him out without the sorcerer and her technique, but you were comforted by the fact that he was close, that you could see a part of his prison, but he’s gone again. And so your worry regrows.
Choso seems to notice your disappointment and very gently pats your shoulder.
His gesture surprises you considering you’re the only one who’s given physical touch, but you welcome his comforting touch and thank him with a small but sweet smile as Tengen starts to give more information on the Culling Games. Something you probably won’t participate in because you’ll be here, so you hardly listen.
You know that if you enter a certain colony you’ll be added as a player, players get points by killing other players, and if that player's points remain the same then they could lose their technique. That's all you really gather as your mind goes back to Suguru and your impossible choice.
Guilt begins to bloom where there wasn’t any, while Miguel’s words echo in your mind.
“And you were supposed to cremate Geto’s body,”
If you had picked his body off the ground before you left, all this could have been avoided. All these problems and these outcomes would have not existed if you had given him a proper funeral. But you got swept up in your emotions and left him there.
He would’ve taken your body, Miguel was right about that too, but you couldn’t do the same. Now this is all your fault…your parents…were right…you are a weak link.
“Y/N, Yuki, and Choso will remain here to guard Master Tengen,” Maki snaps your attention back to the room. “I will return to the Zen’in clan and collect cursed tools. Soon after Satoru Gojo was sealed the Kamo and Zen’in clans cleaned out Jujutsu High's cursed warehouse. But Megumi is now the Zen’in clan's leader.”
“What?!” Itadori exclaims.
“I’ll explain later,” Fushiguro mutters to his friend.
“Thanks to that, it’s possible to search the Zen’in warehouse at length, but first, Master Tengen?”
You look between the two completely lost on what’s going on.
“Understood,” Tengen interjects. “Juzo Kumiya’s workshop right?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go with Itadori?” You ask Choso as the kids discuss their plans. “Yuki and I can handle your father.”
Choso looks over at you at his side and responds. “I have to be the one to kill my father for what he’s done to my brothers. It's the only way they can be at peace. You,” he redirects. “Your people don’t need you? You’ve been gone from home for a while. And your daughter, will she be okay?”
The corner of your lips twitch to a smile as you hear his concern. “Yes, my people will be fine, I trust the people that are in charge, and Satori will be fine where she is,” you let him know. “We’ll just have to miss each other for a bit longer, but this is for the greater or good.” You sigh deeply.
“Hm, she’ll understand,” he tries to assure you.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I hope.” You swallow thickly.
“Yeah, you guys go to Kinji as planned,” you hear Maki direct at Fushiguro, making you drift your attention back to the group of kids.
“Kinji?” Itadori asks for a person he could’ve met but didn’t because he was in his room the entire day.
“Kinji Hakari, a suspended third year,” Okkotsu lets Itadori know.
“Anyway we’re short-handed,” Maki adds. “So we got to rope in whoever we can.”
“Is that guy tough?” Itadori returns to the conversation about Hakari even after Maki tried to end it.
“Well,” you give your opinion. “He’s moody.”
Itadori slowly churns his head and looks at you with wide curious eyes. “You know him too?” He asks.
Choso and you share a teasing look, and then you nod. “Yes, he went to the house on the first. Not that you would know...”
“You were locked in your room,” Choso finishes your sentence.
Itadori narrows his gaze and looks between Choso and you as if trying to figure out what the two of you are getting at with your in-sync conversation.
“When he’s worked up, he’s stronger than I am.” Okkotsu shares, but he’s quickly turned down by Maki’s sly comment.
“That’s not true.”
You’d tell Itadori and Fushiguro to tell Hakari and Kirara that you sent them, even if you didn’t, but that advice wouldn’t be much help. So you just keep that to yourself and instead share something else that can help. “Hakari and Kirara are in an abandoned multistory parking lot in the Tochigi prefecture. He’s making money by becoming a bookmaker for gambling matches.”
“Gambling matches?” Itadori cuts in confused.
You nod with a proud smirk tugging on your lips. “Fights between sorcerers.”
Itadori’s eyebrows only furrow deeper. “What? That’s crazy. How do you know?”
“I’m his and Kirara's mentor. And when it comes to the fights I helped them finance the club.”
“Hm, so you’re like the Godmother?” He says without need for explanation which makes you excited.
“Yes!”
Itadori’s jaw drops and he leans over. “Do you fight?”
You grin and show off. “I’m their jackpot, honey.”
You don’t fight often, you’ve only fought a couple of times, but when you do fight you use your family name so there's always an anticipating crowd and a lot of money.
“The spectators are…” Fushiguro trails off for you to finish.
“Basically non-sorcerers.”
Both he and Itadori look at you shocked.
“Doesn’t that severely infringe upon the Jujutsu rules article 8, which is to keep confidentiality?”
You scoff and quip, “so what?”
Fushiguro and Maki both look at you with annoyance and they both mutter, “she’s just like her brother.”
Ew.
You scrunch your nose in disgust at their comparison, but you don’t say anything, you just give Fushiguro and Itadori one warning. “Among the participants of the gambling matches are some curse users, so be careful.”
Itadori is quick to nod and assure you. “Got it!”
You smile at him and Fushiguro and say your goodbye. “Take care of each other, hm?”
Fushiguro spares you a glance and gives you a stiff nod before he turns to leave with the other two, whilst Itadori gives you a thumbs up and follows the others out.
Albeit he then turns and calls out, “Choso!”
You look at said man with excitement for him, and he rightfully looks surprised by the call of his name from his little brother, but he’s quick to interject sweetly and with a charming grin. “Don’t die, okay?”
“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Itadori says before he throws Choso a wave, causing the nonchalant man to cover his face with his hand right away and sniffle?
Is he crying?
You give him all your attention and confirm your suspicion right away when you see his shoulders shake, and a tear slip past his large palm.
Yuki sees the same thing but she looks confused, whereas you can’t help but smile in admiration.
“Are you crying?” Yuki probes.
Choso waves her off, and you giggle and pat his shoulder to share your pride for the development with his brother.
“Oh, you could die happy now couldn't you, Cho?” You tease him as you lean your head over his shoulder.
He sniffles. “Just about.”
You chuckle and give his shoulder a squeeze.
At the feeling of your touch, he pulls his hand off his face and looks back at you with a watery gaze. “Can you believe it?”
You flash him a grin and nod. “I saw it. I’m sorry I couldn’t take a picture or a video. But there’ll be more times.”
“You think so?” He shares his doubts.
You nod. “I know it.”
His lips tug on a small smile and he nods in comprehension as he feels comforted by your reassurance.
Silence fills the room after that and welcomes an awkward tension. Not between Choso and you, or Yuki, Choso, and you, but between the three of you and Tengen.
“So,” Yuki rolls out. “Now what?”
“Where are we going to stay?” You ask as you look around at the white nothingness. “And what are we going to eat?”
Tengen sighs as if they're already over Yuki and you. “I have everything you need here,” they mutter.
“Hm. Okay.”
Well, this should be an interesting time…
——
*A FEW YEARS BACK*
“Oh, oh,” you exclaim and snap your eyes open to sit up—or try, you really strain yourself to sit up. “What about Cursed manipulation?” You muse softly.
Suguru slowly blinks his eyes open and sighs before he lolls his head to the side to look at you through the darkness of your room. “No,” he gently turns you down.
You pout and press your hand on his toned bare chest to lean closer. “Why not? That way you won’t feel so lonely with your technique. That way you can teach our child about your technique,” you argue your point.
A touched smile tugs on his lips and his eyes fill with love. “Baby,” Suguru coos. “I don’t want our child to share that burden. Having me carry that technique with me is enough. You know that.”
You drop your eyes on the beauty mark on his chest and gently trace it with your finger. “I know,” you whisper. “But I know how much you dislike your technique, and maybe a part of it is because no one understands. Having our girl have your technique will give you someone to bond with, a reason for your technique not to be such a pest.” You try to make him see the bright side you’re trying to let in.
But all Suguru sees is a more threatening darkness, and he doesn’t want his child to be cast with such an isolating and draining burden.
“What about,” Suguru rolls out as he slides his big and soft hand over your smaller one. “If she has your technique? Your technique is fun. A lot easier.”
You laugh softly and rid of all the lurking shadows Suguru saw crawling in his corner with a simple look in your eyes.
“It would be fun,” you go along with him as he pulls your hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles.
“Come here,” he reels you in so you can lay down on your side and rest your head on his chest so he can gently massage your head.
“If our baby girl has my technique she will be pursued by your family, you know that,” he adds a warning you’ve been trying to forget for your sake.
You swallow thickly and murmur, “Satoru wouldn’t let that happen.”
Or you hope so.
“Yeah,” Suguru doesn’t hesitate to agree, but he still continues with doubt laced in his voice. “But you know they’d find a way. My technique is the only reason they let us date when we were in high school.”
You manage a tender smile and nuzzle your head in his chest, but quickly find your position uncomfortable due to the baby growing inside you, so you flip to your back and wrap Suguru’s strong arm around your neck.
“So,” you change the subject so you don’t spiral in your anxiety that tends to poison you when you think of your parents taking your child. “Have you picked a name yet?”
Suguru leans his head on yours, letting you feel his throat vibrate on your head as he hums. “What about Satori?” He shares. “It means enlightenment.”
Just like Satoru’s name.
——
*NOW*
“And you were supposed to cremate Geto’s body,”
Those words keep ringing in your head like a bad and out-of-tune echo
You had made peace with the choice you made that day. You made his funeral with nobody to mourn and you were okay praying to his portrait in his shrine, but now your past plagues you and you can’t stop the guilt from consuming you.
All this death, this chaos is happening because of that one choice you didn’t make.
All the distress everyone’s living through is because of you?
“Y/N?”
You slowly twist your head towards the door and see an upside-down Yuki stopping under the doorframe.
“Are you done talking with Tengen or are you still glowering?” You remark teasingly.
Yuki scoffs and breaks away from her spot. Yet before she can join you on the bed, you quickly interject.
“Turn off the light. My head hurts.”
“Too much wine?” She quips with a snicker as she does as you ask before she moseys on over to jump on the bed.
“Yeah,” you groan and cover your eyes with your arm. “I was doing some work and was chugging that wine…”
“And now you have your head hanging off the bed,” Yuki finishes for you in a scolding voice. “I wonder why your head hurts.”
You slap your hand on your stomach and lose your gaze on the blue hue painted on your ceiling by the fake bright night sky Tengen made for all of you. Which is kind of neat and nice….you have to admit.
“You know,” you add as you get lost in thought. “It feels weird staying here. I mean we’re not above ground on school grounds, but we’re still here, and it’s weird.”
“Yeah,” Yuki muses. “Takes you back doesn’t it?”
“Hm—Oop I'm getting lightheaded now,” you mumble and throw your upper body up to drag yourself forward on the bed and then throw yourself down when you’re at Yuki’s side.
“I mean to have a cute guy fawning over you with their dreamy brown eyes is so weird,” she says in a mocking way you instantly recognize and try not to give into, but you can’t help it. You drag your eyes to your side and see she’s already passing you a teasing look.
“Har-har,” you feign a laugh and mistakenly prove her right, so she continues to push.
“Oh you could die happy couldn't you, Cho?” She changes her voice as she bats her eyelashes. “Now I’m going to bat my pretty white Gojo lashes at you, and speak in my very fancy voice which seeps with my lust for you.”
You bite the inside of your cheek and shoot her a pointed glare. “I don’t talk like that,” you remark and avert your gaze.
“You do,” she yells. “You talk in a very old money, old movie star kind of way, which if someone wouldn't know you, they’d think you’re snobby, but I guess he likes that because he drools over you with whatever comes out of your mouth.”
Your heart swoons and begins to dance all giddily, causing a smile to start tugging on your lips, but one you try to fight back.
“It’s not even like that,” you mutter in a very shaky way because of how bad you are at hiding the excitement that she is making you feel. “Shut up,” you blurt and flip around to give her your back. “I’m 28 now, I don’t giggle,” you grumble.
“Oh,” Yuki snorts. “You giggled.”
You don’t comment and watch the stars twinkling in the distance with a smile winning its territory on your face.
“Do you,” you quietly give in to your feelings, this once, out of excitement. “Think it’s obvious?”
“Not to him.”
You nod softly and welcome more silence as you let your heart gush over Choso and this conversation.
However, then Yuki's impression of you crosses your mind and you can’t help but burst out laughing. And as if in tune with your thoughts Yuki joins, and you both just laugh your asses off until you’re both out of breath.
When you collect yourselves you don’t continue to laugh however, your smile falls and you lock your feelings away, forbidding your heart from them.
It’s cruel, but it’s for the best. It’s for his sake. And no matter how much your heart weeps and begs for you to show it some sympathy, you won’t give in, you can’t give him more thought, or else you will fall and you’ll give into a happiness you don’t deserve to feel.
You prove that to yourself now, in the silence that fills the room once again, while your mind sinks back in your guilt.
Guilt you need to express before you’re overwhelmed. “Yuki…do you think…all that’s happening is my fault?”
Yuki shifts and her big brown eyes bore in the back of your head. “What do you mean?” She questions.
You let out a deep breath and turn around to face her with a watery gaze full of pain and guilt. “All that’s happening,” you clarify. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? Because I couldn’t burn his body when he died…” You trail off and feel your bottom lip tremble. “…he was my husband, I should've taken him with me and burned his body, but I left him there and Kenjaku got him because of it.”
Yuki looks into your eyes for a moment longer before she sighs and begins to share her thoughts. “You should’ve burned his body, that’s true…”
You gasp and feel like you’ve been stabbed in the heart.
“But,” she adds. “It wasn’t your fault. None of what’s happening is your fault. You should’ve burned his body because he was your partner, you should’ve given his body a resting place, but he was also the man you loved, y/n, losing him was hard. I understand why you couldn’t do it, but what happened because of that is not your fault. Kenjaku was probably already creeping around him, waiting for the right moment, it all would’ve happened eventually.”
Her answer doesn’t assure you, it doesn’t take away the agony you feel now.
“But—”
“No,” she cuts you off. “What ifs don’t exist. What happened, happened, but you are not to blame, do you understand?” She presses with a threatening narrowed glare. “This is not your guilt to carry. And you know damn well your brother and Suguru would never want you to beat yourself over it.”
Tears roll down your cheeks and you answer with a soft nod.
“It’s not your fault,” she insists as if she could see your reluctance to let your guilt go. “It’s not your fault, y/n.”
Her words strike against the guilt and work to stop it from spreading, but in order to get rid of it indefinitely you’ll just need time.
“Okay,” your voice quivers.
Yuki offers you a sweet smile and grabs your shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze that makes you smile faintly in return.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
Her smile turns to a smug grin. “Of course. I’m always here for you, y/n.”
You reach for her hand and give it a gentle squeeze, letting the silence settle, and for a comfort to finally set in your heart.
Not only that but at least now you can sleep too without having to be attacked by all your thoughts, thanks to her. You really owe her a lot.
——
*LATER THAT NIGHT. CHOSO P.O.V*
A knock raps on the door, pulling him from his slumber and putting him on instant alert. When he drifts his eyes to check the clock, the bright numbers read 2:06 am, so whoever it was must come with urgency.
Thus, he gets out of bed and walks over to open the door, and see that it’s you in your night attire.
“Y/N, are you okay?” He immediately asks with concern.
You assure him with a quiet response so as to not wake up Tsukumo. “Yeah, yeah, I just…” you trail off and glance at the ground. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Choso’s heart skips a beat and his mind completely falls blank at the sound of the vulnerability you were letting him see.
“I’m sorry if I woke you,” you quickly add as he stays with his mouth ajar. “I can go.”
“No,” he quickly finds it in him to snap out of his stupor. “Come in.”
A relieved smile grows on your lips and when you walk inside he sees your shoulders lose the tension they held, meaning you felt comfortable being in his presence, which makes him happy to see. He doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable when you’re around him.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat in a more sweeter and apologetic tone. “I know it’s late.”
Choso shakes his head and quickly assures you. “No, no, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”
You peer back and flash him a content smile before you turn and walk back toward the bed with a faint smirk. “Your hairs down,” you point out. “I like it. It looks nice.”
Once again his heart skips a beat in its rhythm, but this time a fluttering grows in his stomach that makes his face grow hot. Which is embarrassing to him, and it always happens when he’s with you.
“Thank you,” he mutters as he holds your gaze that lights his room in a way the fake night sky never did.
“Are you sure you're okay?” He makes sure to ask again.
You sit on the edge of his bed and nod. “Yes,” you smile. “I’m fine, Cho.”
The sound of that short nickname coming out of your lips sends shivers down his spine he never knew he could feel by the simplicity of a nickname.
“Okay then,” he says and glances at the bed and then at you. “You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the ground.”
You laugh softly and drag yourself back to one side and pat the other. “Come lay with me, we’ve spent enough time together already for it to be weird.”
His face grows hotter and his heart instead begins to pound in his chest.
In all the times you’ve spent alone you're always sitting across from each other, on a couch, or at a small distance side by side, you’ve never shared a bed. He almost wants to say no out of respect for you, but he doesn’t want to wound your feelings. Plus you did say you wanted company, so he slowly approaches the bed and climbs back on his side.
“If you're not comfortable then don’t listen to me,” you let him know so he doesn’t feel forced. “Please.”
Choso turns his head and meets your red-orange eyes mixed with worry, so he assures you right away. “I don’t mind. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
You share a soft laugh and he can’t help but let his lips tug to a faint smile.
“Choso,” you whisper now in such a soft and vulnerable way once again.
“Hm?”
You let out a deep sigh and first roll to your side before you continue. “Will you help me? Keep me safe…please.”
You didn’t even need to ask, he already put himself in charge of that the moment he recognized you that night in Shibuya, but hearing you ask him this now just has a way to make the feelings he already has for you, intensify. He can’t even put into words how content he feels, and what other feelings are racing through his veins.
It’s like you set him on fire.
“Always,” he assures you right away.
Your lips tug to one of those sweet smiles he likes to admire on you, and suddenly, again, just like other times before, his eyes—no his whole being feels magnetized to your lips.
“I’ll always keep you safe,” he reinforces his statement.
“You promise?” You ask for reassurance as you, yourself can’t raise your eyes off his lips.
“I do.”
Instead of smiling this time, you lean in and he gives into the force attracting him to you and parts his lips to give into his desire.
Yet, before he can know the feeling of your plush lips on his, everythings gone in a flash and his eyes snap open to see an empty room, and his hard member bulging through the blankets. Again.
It seems that he always feels a pressure within him that lit his veins with wildfire whenever he thought of your lips, your soft skin under his fingertips, your body under him or over him, your perfectly sculpted face so close to him that he could feel your breaths unfurl over his lips, and or whenever he dreamed of you…like now.
And his dreams always varied. Sometimes they were sweet like the one now, but other times he dreamed of you in ways he figured out shouldn't be had by friends and always woke up with the same throbbing pressure that ached for you because of it.
At first, he didn’t know what it was he felt, his body just set on fire, making his blood rush, and causing his member to rise and grow hard to the point it throbbed when you appeared in his mind. It wasn't until he was being nosy one time and found his answer in some pages in a book he peeked in after he saw you keep smiling at it as if it held some juicy secret.
He just wanted to know what was so interesting and why you read it so much in your free time. He won’t do it again, he knows that for sure.
Now, as to how he cooled himself down? He waited sometimes for it to pass, or he went to go get some water and fresh air, hoping not to run into you.
Like he will do now because recently waiting hasn’t helped, all he feels is the need to relieve himself to the thought of you. So he gets up and leaves his room and hopes you’re not out there.
——
*YOU*
The night is cold, especially because you’re underground.
But that’s what you get for being here as some bodyguard to an enlarged four-eyed thumb.
You just want to go back to your house and finally sleep in your own bed! You miss it all terribly.
And you miss having a warm body sleeping next to you. Sometimes you’d sleep at the furthest edge to avoid the contact, but in the back of your head, you always knew there was someone there to comfort you. Now all there is a cold and empty spot.
Maybe…no, that can’t be possible. You’re too much of a horrible monster to deserve anything good. He’s too good and his heart is too pure. You’ll just corrupt him.
But—no! No.
“Ugh,” you groan and flip around to groan some more into your pillow and keep your face buried.
Maybe this way his handsome nonchalant face and his precious eyes will leave your mind alone.
Nevertheless, the door of your room suddenly opens and when you turn to face the entrance there walks in the man you were trying to stop thinking about.
“Choso,” you call out in confusion.
He usually knocks and waits for you to open the door, or for you to invite him before walking in, this time he just barged in completely out of breath.
“Y/N,” he speaks in a deep silky voice that makes goosebumps grow on your arms.
“Choso, what’s wrong?” You ask as he keeps looking at you with his eyes darker than usual.
However, he doesn’t answer you, he just walks to you and stops when he’s at the edge of the bed, making you grow more confused, but also causing your heart to start racing out of what you can only describe as excitement over his proximity and boldness.
“I want to be with you.” Choso breaks his mysterious mask and takes no time to climb over you on the bed. “Always.”
You swallow thickly and let your eyes flicker between his eyes and his pink lips that radiate his warmth and tempt you to close the gap.
“I want you to be mine,” he murmurs against your lips, making your heart burst, sending your blood to race through your veins and catch your body on fire.
“Choso,” you whisper and keep your eyes on his lips, refusing to lose sight of them, as if you were some addict seeking their next high.
“Will you let me?” He asks as he grazes his lips on yours, making you gasp and feel a growing need in your core that begins to weep for him.
“Yes,” you give in so easily and see him smile before he presses himself closer to let you feel his hard member against your throbbing core.
“You’re so…beautiful,” he muses and finally gives in to your temptation by pressing a kiss on your lips.
Albeit you can’t describe the feeling of his lips. It’s like nothing pressed against you. But instead of questioning it, you fuel your need and wrap your arms around his neck to smash his lips against yours again.
“Y/N,” he groans against your lips.
You listen to your heart and deepen the kiss, feeling his hips roll against you.
“Choso,” you moan in his mouth.
He utters your name and pulls back, but presses a hand on your cheek to not lose contact. He parts his lips again to say more but suddenly you can't hear him, and everything around him and you slowly goes to black until suddenly you’re yanked back into a void that blinds you for a second before you suddenly open your eyes and see the ceiling.
There’s no Choso and no warmth, just the ceiling, and an empty bed, meaning it was a damn dream!
A sex dream no less that just leaves your heart lonely and disappointed, and your panties wet whilst your pussy throbbed over nothing.
Great. Great!
You should’ve not even accepted the mission! Choso is everywhere now that you don’t want to think about him or his pink and inviting lips you want to taste. His pretty sunkissed brown eyes you can get lost in. The veins on his hands you want to see when he grabs onto your thighs, his defined shoulders you want to cling onto, and his beautifully sculpted abs you want to press kisses on…
Maybe…
Just maybe you can just think about him until you satisfy your need with your fingers…
No! No! What are you thinking?!
Why? Why now?
You can’t think of him like that! You can’t just let your body ache for him, you told yourself you wouldn't, so sorry to your heart, but no!
And if you stay on your bed you will fall into temptation, so you get out and march out of your room.
Alas, when you walk out you let out a sharp gasp when you run into Choso!
“Sorry,” he immediately throws out as he steps back and turns away from you. “I-I didn't mean to scare you.”
You clutch onto your heart for a different reason and quickly assure him. “No, it’s okay. It’s fine,” you murmur and make the mistake of meeting his gaze, but you can’t hold it so you yank your eyes away because of the dirty thoughts you just had of him.
“Are you okay?” He asks and that only works to reignite your desire.
“Yeah.” You nod and bring your eyes back to his gaze, and realize that he never looked away. He keeps looking with a deep intensity that you can’t look away from now and works to restart the pulse in your core.
“I just need…water,” you lie, making his jaw go slightly ajar.
“Oh,” he breathes out. “Me too.”
Great…
“Now I won’t be alone,” you play it off and lead the way to the kitchen in a loud silence in which all you can do is dart your eyes from his hands, the hall, his lips, ahead, his baggy shirt hiding his defined torso, and the approaching kitchen.
When you’re going to reach for a cup he beats you to it and reaches for two, causing you to watch how the veins form on his hands as he grasps onto the cups.
Before he can hand your cup though, to avoid letting him catch you staring, you walk over and take the water jar out of the fridge to pour some into the cups he puts on the counter for you. Once you fill his cup you pick it up and hand it to him, realizing when your eyes land on him that he’s been watching you.
“You know,” you fill the silence and turn away from him to lean back on the counter. “We might as well be drinking air, considering earlier today we walked into a white canvas, and moments after that a house appeared out of thin air.”
Choso shares a small laugh, making your smile widen.
“Well,” he says. “At least we'll go insane together.”
You chuckle with him and then say, “yeah, lucky us,” before you trail off softly and bring your cup to your lips to drink, missing the way Choso couldn’t keep his eyes off you.
When you bring your cup down you look over at him and he looks away and drinks. “Your hair’s down, it looks nice,” you tell him, making him gulp, and for his eyes to widen.
You think it's just him getting flustered so you don’t probe and instead continue and let your heart lead the way. “You know when we fought I saw you kind of lacked in hand-to-hand combat. I could help you if you want.”
Choso lowers his cup and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to burden you,” he doesn’t try to turn you down, he just doesn’t want to bother you.
“I don’t mind,” you quickly assure him. “I think it’ll be fun actually.”
Your eyes find each other and he unfurls a deep breath before he lets himself give in. “All right. Thank you.”
You walk to the sink and dump the water from your cup because it’s not water you needed, you needed air to keep your mind off him, but well…
“Good, we start at 8 am,” you let him know and leave the cup to turn on your heels. “Don’t be late.”
“Well,” he says lightheartedly. “There’s nowhere else to go, so. I couldn’t even if I tried.”
You laugh just like he wanted.
“Good night, Cho,” you tell him for a second time tonight.
He watches you walk away and speaks softly as if out of breath, “Goodnight y/n,”
You offer him one last smile over your shoulder before you leave the room.
Instead of returning to your bedroom though, you end up outside to finally catch some fresh air and lose your gaze on the beautiful wave of colors that rocked over the ground as if they were ocean waves, and slowly feel all your concerns and desires slip away like they would when you admire the lake by your house, or the oceans you like to travel to.
Even if you’re stuck underground, in a place that can weaken you, you don’t feel distressed, you feel…bliss in the peaceful silence.
And that is something you haven’t felt since October 31st. So you relish in it while you can before you’re faced with more disaster.
You could actually sleep out here, but in the back of your head, you do worry that something will come out of the walls, or from the surface and drag you to some depths of hell or something so you just sit back and watch the aurora borealis accompany the starry sky.
For a while longer at least because then you hear something creak behind you and you have to look out of fear it’s some kind of demon.
Luckily though it’s just your tempting desire that plagues your mind often; Choso.
“Are you spying on me?” You tease him with a playful glare.
“I,” he stammers as his cheeks grow pink. “No. I saw someone out here. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t unwanted company.”
You ease the teasing glare and offer him an assuring look. “I was just messing with you,” you let him know. “Now.” You pat the spot beside you. “Why don’t you forget we said goodnight to each other and sit with me.”
Choso steps away from the back door and shakes his head. “No, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“Pft,” you brush him off with a flick of your wrist. “It’s our thing you know? Us being up late and keeping each other company. I’ve grown to really look forward to it, so come if you want I don't mind.”
You should mind. You really definitely should.
“Well,” Choso breathes out and hides his reddening cheeks by looking at the ground. “Only if it’s alright with you.”
“It is,” you reassure him.
Choso’s eyes flicker to you and he sees that you hold no ill will so he takes you up on your offer.
“You know,” you muse when he takes his seat. “That the brightest star, The North Star, is right there,” you share and point to the bright speck on the sky just above your heads. “And if you find it you’ll always find home.”
Choso’s gaze lingers on your smug little smile before he follows your finger to the biggest star in the sky.
“Or at least,” you scoff. “That’s all that stuck from what Kira told me.” You laugh softly. “They told me about all these cosmos and nothing really stuck, but that. So if you’re ever lost just find the star.”
Choso blinks and mutters, “what if I’m lost in the day?”
You snort and look at him with amusement. “Then you’re shit out of luck.”
Choso laughs and you laugh with him for a long moment before you clap and interject excitedly. “OR OR, you can always tell yourself this, Never,” you point ahead. “Eat.” You point east. “Soggy.” You point south. “Waffles.” You lastly point West and grin over the fact you remember that catchy phrase.
However, Choso doesn’t understand so he just looks at you with his thick eyebrows deeply furrowed.
“North, East, South, and West,” you clarify. “Belinda taught me.”
Choso nods in comprehension and nods slowly, but you can still see from his slightly scrunched-up nose that he’s still confused.
And you are too.
“But I guess it wouldn't make sense if you don’t know where North is…so,”
“We’re both lost?” He finishes for you as he meets your gaze with his lips picked up into a faint smile.
“Yeah,” you laugh. “We’re both lost, so it’s a good thing we have our mobile devices,” you mock him, and he catches that right away and shoots you a pointed look that only lasts for a second before he turns his head away as he can’t help but smile.
“No, but really, home is not far from here. Home is surrounded by trees to keep the community kind of hidden, it’s big for obvious reasons,” you say with a smile. “And, I actually thought of a perfect home for you and your brothers to stay at.”
Choso’s eyes snap to you admiring the colors in the sky turning from blue to red, and his jaw slightly drops. As if this is the first time he’s heard of this plan you told him hundreds of times already.
“It’s just above the lake, so close to me but not too close either,” you continue to say, letting him watch how the red hue consumes your face in such a majestic way—“it’s the house surrounded by the most trees so you get more privacy. And it’s not big enough to fit all of you, but you can build onto it. I think that’d be fun.” You look away from the sky and immediately find his softened gaze. “Don’t you think?”
Choso blinks repeatedly to break from the trance you casted on him, and shakes his head. “We’ll be fine,” he tries not to concern you, but you argue back right away.
“No, you’ll need your own space. You all will. Trust me,” you laugh dryly. “I know, because one, brothers date your best friends and break up with them, causing said friend to drop you because you remind them of your brother and they can’t handle that,” you ramble about your own past instead of actually advising him. “Two, they steal your hair products and always forget to buy you more after they finished them. They tease you until you cry and play cruel pranks in front of their friends to act cool. And lastly, they buy your child a pony without asking you first.”
Choso scoffs in a judgy way and queries the same without shame. “Your brother does that?”
You roll your head forward to watch the red hue become fiercer in color, and sigh deeply. “Yes. But you can’t blame him, we’re barely a year apart, so our dynamic shows that,” you defend your brother.
“Our parents got excited after they had their boy,” you share. “So they chose to try for another in hopes it would be another strapping boy, but I came out, cockless and became their headache.” You snicker.
There was so much Choso wanted to say to contradict you and comfort you after you just brushed off your parents disdain since he knows that feeling of saying you don’t care but deep inside it hurts. Yet he can’t form the words to say it the way he wanted, the way you would’ve comforted him, he instead tries to relate to you so you could know that there are similarities between the two of you.
“Sometimes I don’t think it matters what gender you are. I turned out to be a man along with the rest of my brothers, and Kenjaku didn’t care, he still left us like trash.”
Your heart sinks and your smile turns to a frown.
“Parents are like that if you don’t fit their perfect ideals,” he mutters.
You lay back on the grass and keep your eyes on the stars behind the red hue while your mind sadly agrees with what he said.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “They are, aren’t they? Do you…” you hesitate and let out a deep breath to let out some of that tightness in your chest that had begun to grab ahold of you. “Ever think what it would be like if you were ideal in their eyes? I think I would be less afraid, and I wouldn't have pushed myself so much.”
Choso stays quiet as he tries to come up with something he’s often thought about in his time in the void.
“I…would’ve been out 150 years ago,” he says softly but in a voice laced with spite and anger. “And I wouldn’t be as strong as I am now. I honed my technique because he left us.”
You look at aurora borealis slowly shifting to yellow above your heads and whisper, “I’m sorry.” Causing him to lay back to show his confusion better—“I must sound ungrateful and bratty compared to what you went through. That was real pain. I’m sorry.”
Choso’s eyes narrow to express his remorse before he interjects in the best way he can. “No, you don’t. Not to me.”
Tears fill your eyes and you can’t help but share a soft smile as you finally feel understood. Suguru tried to relate to you saying his parents never understood him and that they became distant, but that was just a teenage phase for him, he never really understood you. Not in the way Choso can.
It’s why it makes indulging into this dark topic a lot easier.
“Can I ask how it felt being stuck there?” You bring up timidly hoping it doesn’t upset him.
Choso lets out a deep breath through his nose and narrows his gaze on the sky, looking almost like he wanted to damn the sky because of the past that flashed through his mind.
“I’m so—”
“It’s okay,” he cuts you off before you can finish your apology, and clears his throat. “It was…dark. Like when you close your eyes and see nothing but pitch darkness. I felt my brothers, their presence, but I was still alone because we couldn’t talk, or exist, we just felt each other nearby. And the years for me didn’t pass quickly like it would for them, I felt every year pass by,” his voice quivers, and you see tears rush down his cheeks, making that ache you had already begun to feel only hurt deeper for him.
Even if you can’t know his pain, you still feel for him, especially as you see him cry.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you murmur and wipe away the tears that broke out of your eyes to scoot closer to him and grab his hand, going unaware of his shiver the moment your warm hand touched his cold one.
“You’re here now though,” you try to comfort him. “You’re out, under the sky and with a beating heart, working every day to give your brothers peace.”
More tears run down his cheeks and you’re tempted to wipe them away, but that might be too intimate for you trying to avoid developing your feelings, so you just let your heart yearn and let him wipe away his own tears.
“Thank you, y/n,” he whispers in a sweet way that makes your heart start to race. “You’re sweet. You always have been to me. Thank you for that.”
“You deserve it, Cho.”
The corner of his lips twitch to a timid smile, and you hold each other's gaze for a lingering moment as all your hearts do is yell to give in to what you both so desperately want.
Alas, you both don’t listen to your yearning. You let go of his hand, and look back at the sky while you slowly grow somber as you grow the confidence to share something personal now that you’re being vulnerable with each other.
“Can I share something with you that only my best friend Kento knew?” You ask first.
Without hesitation, he answers. “Of course.”
You let out a shaky sigh and clasp your hands together over your chest to fiddle with your nails. “Last year a month before Suguru died, we found out we were expecting,” your voice grows softer and shakier as you fight your tears. “And then he died and…the baby went with him.
No matter how hard you hold back from crying, tears cloud your eyes and stream down your cheeks.
“No one knew,” you add. “It was too soon to tell anyone, so we kept it a secret we would have shared later on. It never happened of course…” you trail off.
“I’m so sorry,” Choso says right away.
You wipe away your tears and meet his worried gaze. “It’s okay, I've made my peace with it,” you say.
Choso’s hand twitches out of a need to cup your hand the way you comforted him, but you kept your hand on your chest and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by reaching over your chest, so all he offered you was assuring words even if his face expressed pity and agony because of the pain he saw in your eyes. “You didn’t deserve that.”
You could say otherwise, you could bring up multiple pieces of evidence, but you don’t want to argue so you answer with silence.
“But why,” Choso interjects, catching your attention. “Why did you share something personal with me? Me out of all people, I’m—”
“My friend,” you cut him off before he can talk bad about himself. “And I shared this with you because I find it easy talking with you. Because you’re someone I can confide in.”
Choso swallows thickly and leaves a longer silence than he intended because of his disbelief over your words which only heightens his burn for you.
“Is that okay?” You check in.
He blinks and nods softly. “Yes. It is. I find it easy talking with you too.”
You can’t help but smile and reach over to grab his hand. “Promise me something, Choso.”
Said man is left speechless so he nods.
You then proceed to fold his arm over his chest to press his hand on his heart.
“You have a good heart,” you tell him something you know he doubts. “Promise me you’ll never lose it. Hard times will come, but you’re strong, keep your heart. Promise me.”
Choso’s bottom lip trembles and his eyes glisten, only letting a couple of tears fall before he nods even if he's still hesitant to believe your kind words that have never changed.
“Good,” you whisper and let his hand go to rest yours back on your chest.
You did such a terrible job at keeping him out of your mind. You suck.
“We have to get up early today,” Choso reminds you after a few minutes of peaceful silence.
“Yeah,” you make no attempts to leave, and neither does he. “We’ll pay for it in the afternoon.”
“Hm.”
——
*LATER THAT MORNING*
His fists are too tightly clenched and he has his feet too dug in the ground. He’s too tensed up.
Which isn’t strange to see, when he uses his cursed technique he’s always fighting fiercely. But when he’s fighting hand to hand he needs to loosen his body up more to move swiftly when the need calls or else he’ll be an easy opponent. Like now.
Instead of advising him right away though, you charge forward. When you get close you spring forward and throw your knee at his face, but he manages to barely swerve and causes you to land with your back to him.
You quickly spin around and in that moment catch him trying to swing his leg at your head, but you manage to trap his leg on your shoulder and throw your leg forward to kick his crotch, causing him to grunt and pull his leg off to stumble back.
You don’t wait for him to get better, you lunge forward and kick him to the ground before you drop down and straddle his waist to swing your arm over his face. But stop just before you can actually hit him.
“Dead,” you exclaim with a proud smirk. “Again.”
“Tsk,” he complains.
You get off him and grab his arm right away to help him back to his feet and finally share your advice. “You need to loosen up. You're too tense.”
Choso reaches for your elbow, but doesn’t make contact, he lets his hand hover under your elbow as he listens.
“You’re an easier target that way,” you continue. “You make yourself harder to move.”
“Sorry,” he says as if he was in trouble.
“Don’t apologize, it’s training,” you assure him and let his arm go to pat his shoulder and walk back to your spot to continue. “Let’s go another time and then we can take a break so you can watch Yuki and me next.”
He sighs with disappointment at his failure, so you rebuttal.
“Cho,” you press and turn to face him across the circle. “It's okay, you'll get better, that’s why we’re training.”
Choso rolls his shoulders back and lifts his fists, whilst you bend your knees a bit and clench your fists.
“Lighter on the feet,” you remind him before you run at him and hop again to bring down the strongest part of your arm on him, your elbow.
However, Choso crosses his arms and blocks the impact, making you smirk and pull your other arm back to throw him a left hook that he blocks again.
“Good,” you compliment, and then use your knee to jab his stomach and push him away from you.
This time though he doesn’t give in to the dull pain. He counters by coming at you by swinging his arm, making you dodge, just like he wanted, and quickly follows up by overwhelming you and throwing his other fist, and actually managing to nick you on the jaw before you could dodge.
“Good,” you mutter with a menacing chuckle before you shoot him a pointed glare.
Choso mirrors your glare and gets ready for your attack. Albeit instead of meeting him with a blow, you actually wrap your arms around his waist and then swing your foot back to smack your heel on his face.
Choso groans from the pain in his nose, and you try to swing around him to hug him from behind, but he wraps his arm around your neck to keep you in a headlock.
You try to squirm away, but he squeezes tighter, making you groan and dig your nails in his skin.
Choso doesn’t react to that though, instead, he brings his knee up to your stomach twice. But, he doesn’t demonstrate a finishing move, so you swing your legs around his waist and rock up with all your weight, resulting in you on the ground and him on top of you in a very uncomfortable position only because of the way his arm is still clung around your neck.
Not like it mattered to your racing heart and your need for him though; a heat still unfurls within you. While he falters.
Yet neither of you give into your desires, you ignore them and use your strength to roll back on the ground and throw him over you.
The both of you then quickly get up to face each other again, deciding not to waste a second and charging at each other.
The moment you’re close you swing your left fist, but he claps his hand together and throws his arms up to block your attempt.
“Nice,” you say between pants and get a smirk from him.
Nonetheless, you proceed to shift to the side to smack your hand on the back of his neck and push him down before you wrap your arm around his throat and throw your knee up.
Choso however, manages to block you and smacks his hands on your hips to swing you around as he turns so you can let go.
And you do but you then show off how flexible you can be after years of training, and wrap your legs around him with your back still pressed against his chest, and flip you both to the ground.
“Nice, that was quick thinking,” he compliments you between his own heavy breaths.
You snicker and don’t let get him off easy, you throw a jab over his face and swing over him to throw another hit, but he snaps his head to the side and makes your fist slam into the ground.
“Damn,” you hiss in pain and get off him to stay on your knees. “Damn.” You complain again and shake your hand.
Choso pays you no mercy, which is good, he shouldn’t because this is training and the second complaint was fake in hopes he’d worry. So you’re proud that he swings his leg. But since you were faking it the second time, you throw your upper body back to dodge and plant your hands on the ground behind your head to swiftly hurl yourself back to your feet using just the strength in your arms.
Now instead of giving Choso time to counter, or even attempt to move, you swing your leg. Choso catches your action and puts his hands out and claps them together out of instinct to use his technique, leaving you with the great opportunity to kick his face and send him to his knees the moment of impact, just out of the pure strength behind your swing.
And just to finish this round you walk around him and point your fist at his face. “And that’s dead.”
You drop your arm and offer him your hand.
Choso meets your gaze with no ill feeling and takes your offer, letting you pull him to his feet.
“Did that hurt?” You worry about him now that the session is over. “I’m sorry, Choso.”
Said man holds his cheek and covers how red it’s getting. “It’s nothing that won’t heal. You were great, y/n.”
You give your gratitude with a sweet smile before you grab his wrist and yank it down to pull him over to the bench. “You won’t heal right away like I can due to my RCT, which means it stings. Trust me I know. So let’s just put some ice on it.”
Choso parts his lips to argue since he will heal, but he can’t turn you down so he lets you sit him down, and just watches you wrap a towel around cubes of ice before you very gently press the cool towel against his cheek.
“Those were some nice moves,” you fill the silence so you can avoid getting lost on his handsome face and his pink lips just inches away from yours. “I like how you grabbed my hips and swung me around. That was quick thinking.”
Choso sits up straight and huffs. “On that last move, before you hit me, I pointed my hands out—”
“I saw that!” You exclaim and jump out of excitement. “You were totally going for a piercing blood!”
Choso chuckles softly. “I was an idiot. I could’ve dodged.”
You laugh and nod. “Yeah especially because I kind of fumbled my footing there.”
“Really?” He asks and raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t see.”
“No.” You roll your eyes playfully. “Because you were going to shoot piercing blood.”
Choso snorts and snickers, making your heart skip a beat, and your smile to turn to a beaming grin.
“I…I did see a difference when I changed my stance and lifted some weight off my feet,” Choso let you know.
“Really?” You probe curiously. “You liked it? I know some people prefer the additional weight. It makes their swings harder.”
“Well, if I add the weight when I hit instead, I find it smoother,” he says and you nod.
“Yeah, I do that too, that way I can move fast without being too tense, but making my impacts harder when I use that weight with my swings instead,” you share.
“Hm.” He hums.
You laugh softly down at the bench. “I was trying to trick you after I smacked my fist in the ground,” you let him know.
Choso’s eyebrows quirk up and he shoots you a puzzled look.
“I faked that second damn to try and distract,” you explain.
“I knew that,” he now claims, making you chuckle and roll your eyes.
“You didn't know shit!” You argue and playfully push him away.
A teasing smile tugs on his lips and he just continues to say a bunch of shit out of the high of the moment you’re both stuck in. “I knew not to check on you.”
You shake your head as you laugh, and he furrows his eyebrows and brings up a question. “Does that usually work?”
You shrug. “Sometimes, depends on who I’m fighting. But it’s not to check on me, more so my opponent let their guard down because they think I got weaker.”
“Hm. Well, it’s smart then,” he tells you softly.
You mutter, “thanks,” sweetly, and then your phone suddenly starts to ring, so pull away and grab your phone from your sweater draped over the bench.
When you check who it is you smile when you see that it’s Belinda.
“I’ll go,” Choso tries to be respectful and give you space, but you grab his wrist to assure him it’s okay before you answer the phone.
“Hello?” You greet in a sing-song voice as all you see is a wood ceiling. “Who am I talking to?”
A few seconds of silence pass before you hear your daughter's sweet voice. “Mommy!”
You grin. “Chipmunk,” you greet. “What are you doing? Why am I looking at a ceiling?”
“Oh, right,” she mumbles before she picks up the phone and finally shows her face to the camera. “Hi,” she greets again with a wave this time.
“Hi,” you don’t fail to return. “What are you doing?”
Satori flashes you a grin and points the camera at some long strings of dough. “I’m making pasta noodles,” she reveals. “Belinda's mom said that it’s important I know because I’m a girl.”
Of course, that lady would say that. Tsk.
“Oh,” you feign a laugh. “That’s…cool. You having fun?”
“What are you doing?” She cuts you off and stares hard at her screen to try and figure out the answer to her question.
“I’m training,” you let her know, making her pull back and smile again. “Actually,” you add with a growing grin. “I’m here with my friend, Choso.”
You proceed to shift so you can show him off to your daughter.
“Choso this is Satori,” you introduce him to the most important person in your life. “Satori this is Choso.”
Choso glances at you nervously as if trying to make sure it’s okay before he looks at the camera and offers your daughter a small smile. “Hello,” he greets nervously.
Satori's dark eyes narrow as she studies his face for a moment before her face eases and she smiles sweetly. “Hello,” she manages to greet without shying away since she’s behind a screen. “Uh, my mommy talks about you a lot.”
Your eyes widen and you quickly turn away. “Satori,” you quietly scold her.
“What?” She asks without understanding why you’re acting the way you are. “You and daddy always said to tell the truth. I did.”
You sigh deeply knowing you can’t say anything about it now so you just bite your tongue and wait to correct her tomorrow.
“Anyway,” you change the subject. “Satori how was your trip to—”
“Oh, Mom I have to go, I'll call you before bedtime, bye.” And just like that she ends the call and leaves you hanging.
“Well,” you clear your throat and don’t touch on what she blurted to him. “You met my daughter,” you say and shift to face Choso and press the ice back on his cheek that isn't as red as it was moments ago, but it still is swollen.
“She looks like him doesn't she?” You ask.
Choso swallows thickly and drifts his gaze away to nod before he looks back at you with a timid but soft look. “She has your smile though,” he says.
You’re caught off guard and feel your breath hitch softly before you show your flustered smile to the bench. “Thank you,” you whisper.
“Hm.”
You let out a small breath and then look back at him. “Does it hurt less?” You ask with concern.
Choso nods. “Yes, thank you. You’re sweet even though I will heal, I told you.”
“Pft,” you blow out. “Then heal right now.” You urge him to prove you wrong.
Choso narrows his gaze. “Well, it’s not how it works.” He argues.
You scoff and smirk. “Well until then I’ll worry if I want to.”
Choso’s chest rises and you know what he’s going to respond with so you beat him to it.
“Hm.”
Choso shoots you a pointed look, making you snicker as you hold his gaze.
And since he wasn’t really upset, he can’t hold back from sharing a soft smile while he gets lost in your eyes, building the tension that had already made itself a home between the two of you and urged you to just break it with an act of a kiss, or a confession.
But neither of you do, you just torture yourselves and sit in silence where only the two of you existed before suddenly Yuki’s excited shout breaks you away. “Who's ready?!”
——
*THE NEXT DAY*
“Sorry I’m late,” you make your presence known as you slide the door open to the parlor room where you’re supposed to brainstorm a battle plan.
“We haven’t started…” Yuki trails off to scoff, making you pick your eyes off the ground to watch her stuffing her face with crackers. “You’re wearing a kimono?” She says teasingly.
You flick your wrist. “Don’t make a big deal,” you brush her off and sit beside her and across from Choso.
“I hardly see you wearing them,” Yuki ignores you as she props her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her hand to lean towards you. “What’s the occasion?” She asks with a smirk.
You shoot her a pointed gaze knowing this was only about one man. “I wear kimonos often, they’re comfortable, especially when I’m on my period, like now.” you don’t give in to her taunting. “Do you wear them?” You raise a brow.
“Sometimes,” she shrugs you off.
“Well,” Choso interjects, stealing your attention away from your mentor and notice that a soft blush painted his cheeks. “I think you look very nice, Y/N.”
You can’t help but smile as you smooth out the red robe that didn’t hang tightly around your body, it fit comfortably since you were just staying indoors today.
“Thank you, Choso,” you redirect softly.
Said man swallows thickly and offers you a soft nod as you continue to hold his gaze until you feel Yuki nudge your knee.
You pinch her back under the table, making her snicker before she pinches back a bit too hard.
“Ow,” you whine and smack her hand. “Some master you are.”
Yuki chuckles and takes a sip from her tea, whilst Choso just ignores your and Yuki’s doings, and instead directs his question to you. “Would you like some tea, y/n?”
You perk up and nod. “Yeah, thanks.”
Choso grabs your empty cup and gets up to walk to the kettle, causing Yuki to mock him speechlessly.
“Mature,” you mouth and just ignore her as you fold your arms over the table to rest your head on your arms. “You know I was supposed to go to a gala today,” you murmur sadly. “I was going to wear a beautiful and expensive gown, and get all dolled up.”
“Oh, really?” Yuki probes. “Were you going with anyone?”
You smile. “Nanami to introduce him to a model slash sorcerer friend, and Shoko to get her out of work for a while. And Satoru had invited himself along, so he was going to go too.”
“Ah the media would've eaten you and your brother up,” Yuki points out. “I can read the headlines now, the ever so mysterious model, y/n, finally showing off a bit of her life tonight at blah, blah gala.”
You snicker. “Yeah, and he would’ve gotten carried away.” You can’t help but share with a bit of actual sadness that you couldn't actually see this day through like it was planned. It would've been so much fun.
“Here,” Choso interjects as he falls beside you to hand you your tea.
“Oh, thank you, Cho.” You thank him while you reach for your cup, and accidently brush your fingers over his as you take it from his grasp.
Choso offers you a nod before he retakes his seat at the same time the door opens and Tengen finally walks in.
“About time,” Yuki remarks as she sits up and folds her arms over her chest.
“Sorry, there’s much to do,” they excuse themselves while they take their seat. “Since I am late, why don’t we save casual mingling for later.”
You scoff and bring the hot cup to your lips. “We weren’t going to mingle with you,” you say bluntly and take a careful drink, realizing at that moment that the hot tea that seeped into your taste buds is prepared exactly as you like it. It’s exactly how you prepare it…
Did Choso know this from just watching you prepare your tea during those nine days?
“Gojo,” Tengen speaks in such a booming and yet elegant voice. “I know what Cursed manipulation consists of, but some of your peers aren’t aware, why don’t you share what you know since you lived with Suguru Geto.”
You swallow your drink and put the cup down. “Well,” you sigh. “There’s no limit to how many cursed spirits he can hold, but last year in the fight people call The Night Parade, he unleashed a majority of his curses. Meaning,” you add hopefully. “Kenjaku shouldn’t have many, I mean Suguru spent his lifetime collecting them, so it’s doubtful Kenjaku could’ve restored Suguru’s stock in a year.”
“What about the religious facilities?” Yuki asks. “He got curses from the non-sorcerers that worshiped him.”
You drop your gaze to your cup and shake your head. “No, I closed them all down, there was no need for them after he died.”
“Then why does Kenjaku still dress like a monk?” Choso spats.
You look at him across from you and bounce off him. “That’s what I'd like to know. I mean sure before he revealed himself it was to keep up appearances, but now? Who knows.”
“Kenjaku is tactical,” Tengen interjects and ignores the conversation between Choso and you. “He’ll find a way to work with the curses he gathered and what he had left.”
“Then let me go first,” Choso cuts in, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion, while your stomach knots together out of worry.
“You’ll die if you do,” you blurt without thinking.
Choso doesn’t notice the concern laced in your voice or the perplexity behind your eyes. “Then would you and Tsukumo fight against Noritoshi Kamo, three against one with me?”
You and Yuki share a look, but rather than expressing nonchalance like her, you share your growing concern.
“I’d be in the way right?” Choso continues to share. “So I’ll go first, draw out his cursed spirits, and get him to reveal information. If I can get him to open his domain…”
Then he’ll die. Does he not want to see that? Does his life mean so little to him?
“Then Kenjaku will have difficulty using cursed techniques,” Yuki adds in for him. “That’s when Y/N and I strike.”
“Exactly,” Choso agrees.
“I’ll say it again then,” Yuki repeats. “You’ll die.”
Choso doesn't look bothered or upset by the warning, he’s fucking nonchalant and it starts to upset you. You can’t even try to fight it for the restriction you put against yourself. The concern you felt twisting your insides, developed into anger that seeped through your veins and slowly spread out.
“I don’t care as long as we kill him,” Choso argues nonchalantly, making that anger pulse and pump faster throughout your body—“For me, my brothers, and the sake of my mother's curse, which makes up half of me and my brothers. For Yuji’s future as well.”
That anger now makes your heart pound and your jaw clench.
How dare he bring up his brother's future if he doesn’t even plan to be in it? Does he not want to stay with him, spend time with him, and fight for his survival? Why does he want to throw his life away like it meant nothing? Like it doesn’t matter?
You should be asking yourself why it upset you so much. With him gone at least your desire will fizzle out and you’ll stop thinking about him and a future you lost sight of when Suguru died. But your anger reached your mind, and clouded your reasoning, judgment, and critical thinking altogether.
All there is is pulsing anger mixing with your concern, so you can’t keep your mouth shut anymore, you interject to express emotions. “So what? You’re just going to leave Itadori here? Alone? Without you? After you just found each other.”
Choso blinks and slowly sits up, whilst his face shows his perplexity over your emotions.
“Y/N,” Yuki tries to stop you.
“No,” you spat and pierce a glare into Choso. “Why should I sit here and listen to him planning to kill himself? There’s other ways. I can help you, you don’t have to throw your life away.”
“Y/N—”
“I’ve lost so many people I care about,” you cut Yuki off with your voice shaking with anger and…fear. That’s what you felt too. That’s what you recognize coursing through you too.
“All in a span of a year,” you continue, leaving poor Choso just more confused and baffled—“why should I let someone else I care about die?”
“Because,” Yuki argues, but you keep looking deeply into Choso’s eyes. “It comes with our lifestyle. You know that more than anyone. Sure, you had a privileged upbringing, but you also grew up in this world, it comes with sacrifices. If you don’t like that then you can leave, I told you that already. Do you want to leave?”
You hold Choso’s gaze for a moment longer, and he parts his lips and looks at you with just soft disbelief now. It seems he wants to add something, but you drop your eyes and don’t let him interject. “No, Master,” you mutter.
“Good,” Yuki sighs. “Now you two listen to our plan.”
You tighten your grip around your cup and pierce your glare in the light brown tea as Yuki shares a plan she came up with Tengen. You have no protests, you’re okay with what she planned for you to do, so you never interject, nor does Choso. He just chimes in after she’s done explaining.
“Hmm, dismantling the domain huh?”
“You come after that,” Yuki clarifies.
“No, I should go first,” Choso insists, making you roll your eyes but stay quiet now.
“Domains are powerful but burnt-out cursed techniques afterward,” Choso continues. “So there’s a risk that your cursed techniques will be hard to use after a while. I know you and Tengen want to exploit that, but he won’t open his domain if he expects me to leap in. Even if beats me once it’ll convince him that the fight is only against you, Tsukumo, and y/n.”
“Alright fine,” Yuki finally gives in. “Y/N?”
“Yeah,” you mumble and take a sip of tea.
“And Y/N can’t use her fire-snake technique,” Choso protests. “Noritoshi has the advantage of knowing her every move thanks to who he’s inhabiting, he’ll see it coming and kill her.”
You almost choke on your tea, but you manage to navigate down the right pipe before you finally break your silence. “He’ll try to kill me either way because of it, I won’t be safe regardless.”
“Then let me help you,” he volunteers without hesitation. “I’ll fight what he tries to throw at you.”
The words you were going to share right away get stuck in your throat as you breathe in sharply. And that anger you held for him is forgotten for a moment as you’re now shocked.
“No,” Yuki argues for you, snapping you out of your stupor. “We stick to our plan. Y/N can handle herself. You can help when it’s your time to come out if you want to so badly.”
“Right.” You clear your throat and let your anger rush back. “I have my supreme art technique that I never showed Suguru. Trapping Noritoshi in my domain won’t work, he’ll probably overpower me, so I’ll use my supreme art technique to tire him out for Yuki.”
Choso narrows his eyes and probes with concern laced in his voice. “And you’ll have enough energy to fight after?”
You nod as you swirl the tea in your cup. “Yes, I will,” you assure him. “I’ll be okay.”
Choso looks unsure about your reassurance out of concern, but he also trusts you and believes in you, so he doesn’t argue.
“Great!” Yuki exclaims. “So we all know what we’re going to do? No protests?”
Yes, one, Choso’s willingness to sacrifice his life. It still pisses you off and makes you want to cry and fight him, but you’ve been told off already. And he doesn’t seem to want to listen, so you bite your tongue and let the plan be. Even if your heart…begins to ache.
.
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A/N- If you think about Choso and mc have not spent a day apart since Shibuya
Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest
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freesia-writes · 1 year ago
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Hey there,
congrats on your 500 milestone. If I may put in a request, could you perhaps do: "Don't ever do that again! You have no idea what it does to me…" with Wrecker. Love seeing how writers tackle the big guy's main weakness.
Cheers,
Hi! Hello! Hey! Remember this request from like six frickin weeks ago?! ;) I got wildly derailed by Sharp Edges blossoming off of Lightwise's Crosshair request, but bada bing bada boom... I'm BACK baby! So thank you so much for your patience, and I hope this is everything you ever wanted it to be. It really made my heart swell while writing it. All the puppy dog eyes for our sweet big boy!
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Wrecker x Reader Word Count: 3.1k
You’d been serving at the cafe for years, having perfected your duties down to mindlessly rote repetition. The customers and cooks loved you equally, with your sugary-sweet disposition and affinity for lavishing anyone and everyone with affection that left them feeling as though they were floating on the clouds. You’d long since abandoned your hopes at romance, after a trail of failed relationships left you jaded and insecure, and had instead resorted to content yourself with a quiet life of work, reading, and occasional travel. The cafe was centrally located on a variety of trade routes that kept it bustling with interesting characters, bringing news and stories, often quite embellished, of the galaxy beyond the diner’s crumbling brick walls.
The bell on the door chimed cheerfully one morning, and as you looked up with a bright smile to greet the arrivals as usual, your eyes widened as you took in the hulking mass of a man that squeezed inside. You’d seen almost every shape and size of creature over the years, but his apparently human appearance was a stark contrast to his sheer brawn, made even more unique by his seeming lack of an eye and the spidery scar tissue that branched out from his ear across his face. 
“Well hello, sugar,” you purred out of habit, sidling up to him with a coffee pot in your hand, “Haven’t seen you in here before.”
“Uh, yeah,” he said slowly, seeming to still be groggy from sleep as he ran a large hand over his bald head, “Just had a minute to grab something to eat…” His eyes roved across the setting before him: two long rows of cushy booths, ragged from the endless cycle of hungry patrons sliding in and out of them, and an endless supply of decor and memorabilia scattered across the walls and shelves -- photos, trinkets, signs, plants… He snapped out of his distracted gazing when you laid a gentle hand on his forearm, gesturing toward the counter. 
“Why don’t you grab a seat up there and I’ll be right over?”
He grunted his thanks in a deep, throaty voice, shuffling to his assigned seat and completely dwarfing the stool as he settled down upon it. The menu looked like a business card in his hands as he perused it, and when you finished making the rounds of refilling thick ceramic coffee mugs, you slid the carafe back under the warmer and turned to face him. 
“Anything strike your fancy, big boy?” you asked, pet names falling from your lips as naturally as breathing. He seemed surprised by it though, and looked up at you with a slightly baffled expression. His lifted eyebrows widened his eyes, shifting a battle-hardened stare into a disarmingly innocent curiosity, and you were shocked to feel a little flip in your chest. 
“I… ah… I think I’d like this…” he said slowly, pointing to precisely what you would have chosen for him. You nodded, jotting it down in slight relief at the return to normal interaction, “And… could I add this too, please?” You followed his finger and raised your eyes to his, smiling warmly, and you could swear you saw the tiniest hint of red creep across his scar-speckled cheeks.
“Of course,” you answered, giving his hand a pat. “Might take a few extra minutes because Mo is a little swamped back there, but you just sit tight and that will be right out. Can I get you some caf in the meantime?” 
He glanced down at the mug on the counter, untouched beside the silverware and napkin, and raised his eyes back to yours with an almost childish sheepishness, “Actually, do you have a fizz?” 
Your grin broke your lips apart into genuine delight, and you chuckled fondly as you turned toward the refrigerator behind. “I do indeed,” you affirmed, popping the cap off and sliding the curved bottle across the counter to him. “Be back soon, honey.”
You’d grown busy quickly after that, with a rush of patrons that all seemed to have decided to arrive at the same time, and as you bustled about the diner, gliding effortlessly between tables and your coworkers, you were unaware of the stolen glances that were sent your way from the counter. When his plates finally appeared with a ding on the warming shelf, you ran them over with an apologetic tilt of the head. He was nothing but grace and patience, however, again giving you pause at the kind energy he exuded. You were curious to learn more about this new visitor, but there wasn’t a minute to spare, and after a flurry of orders taken, guests seated, and tables cleaned, you looked back to discover the stool was empty. Next to the immaculately-cleaned plates sat his bill, along with a handful of credits on it to cover the total as well as a tip. You were surprised to note the sinking feeling of disappointment, but had no time to dwell on it as the breakfast rush was still in full swing. 
It was nearly a month later when he appeared again, and you had almost forgotten about his initial visit, writing it off as one of the many single customers that would drop in and never be seen again. But as the perky ding announced his arrival, you watched him amble to the same seat at the counter, catching your eye with a grin and a wave. It was later this time -- the quiet lull between morning and afternoon -- and a disproportionate eagerness bubbled up within as you trotted over to greet him. 
“Hi handsome!” you said brightly, again feeling light-headed at the puppy-dog eyes and bashful crooked grin that painted his face in response, “You’re back!”
“Yeah, we pass through here every so often…” he answered, fiddling with the corner of the menu underneath his fingernail. You had some time to spare, and leaned on your elbows, falling into easy conversation about the menu, the diner, and his travels. 
“I never caught your name, sweetheart,” you said suddenly, tilting your head as you studied his features.
“Wrecker,” he said, in a mixture of pride and bemusement. You laughed, all joy and no mockery, clapping your hand over his own as it sat in a fist on the counter.
“Of course,” you exclaimed, reveling in the perfectly-fitting name for such a hulking beast of a man. “I imagine you’re quite the formidable force, aren’t you?” Your tone was light and playful, and he was taken aback for a mere second before he lowered his chin and gave you a more determined look. 
“You could say that,” he said in a low voice, and you felt your stomach twist in a quick clench that made you inhale sharply. 
He began to make a regular appearance at your counter, never in any regular rhythm but sporadic visits peppered throughout the weeks. You found yourself making excuses to touch him more, leaning against him when you took his order from his side, brushing your fingers across his shoulders as you passed by to ask if he wanted a refill, and resting your arm on the counter right next to his when you both bent over the menu in a silly excuse to be close -- he ordered the same thing every time. He watched you, too, when you weren’t looking, taking in the way you coddled each customer, laughing at their jokes and patting them on the back, bestowing nicknames and meaningless affections indiscriminately. 
You began to give him little extras as well -- kitchen mistakes or “accidental” slips of your own hand that would result in a plate of fresh fruit or an extra bottle of fizz that had been mistakenly opened and was unable to be put back -- and wiped the tables as quickly as you could to glean every spare minute to listen to his stories. When he showed up one day with an entire arm bandaged to his side, as well as a scattering of small patches covering parts of his face, you felt a disproportionate surge of fear and protectiveness. 
“What happened?” you gasped, reaching for his cheek without thinking. He shrugged dismissively, casting a glance to the ground as though he were getting in trouble.
“It’s nothing,” he said, “Workplace hazard, you know…” 
“You’ve got to be careful, sweet boy,” you murmured, stroking the side of his face before dropping your hand, not missing the heat that radiated off of him. “Can’t have you blowing yourself up out there.” 
“You can’t do that…” Wrecker began, but his words were lost as you were whisked away. You’d turned to answer a call from the back, and he had shuffled to his counter seat, touching the spot on his cheek with his own hand and a soft expression.
A few more visits came and went, punctuated with jokes and stories, playful banter and comfortable chatter. The morning rush had died down, with a handful of tables remaining hunched over their plates. A sharp voice broke through the hubbub, catching your attention. 
“Oy! Get over here!” A hand waved from the corner booth, where a motley crew of Weequay pirates and humans sat with one of the most lumpy-headed Twi’leks you’d ever seen. You lowered your brows, approaching the table warily with a steaming carafe of caff in your hand. You weren’t one to take any ill treatment, and were just as happy throwing someone out on their ass as you were making them blush with your saccharine praises. 
“Problem, fellas?” you crooned, pursing your lips as your eyes roved from one to the next. 
“Yeah, you’re takin’ way too long!” said one of the pirates, baubles tinkling on his head and chest. “Our food’s getting cold while you’re drooling over the counter at that big lump!” He jerked his head toward Wrecker, who was still and unmoving, eyes fixed on the situation. 
“Your food isn’t ready yet, honey” you returned evenly, pulling some cream cups and sugar packets from your apron pocket and scattering them across the table before topping off their mugs. “Why don’t you enjoy a few more sips of caf, and it’ll be out before you know it.”
The Twi’lek picked up one of the creamer pods, inspecting it for a moment with a malicious glint in his eye, then turned and flung it right at your face, where it bounced off your forehead and fell on the ground. Your gasp of surprise sent him into peals of laughter, and the others joined in. 
“Why don’t you go get our food before we make you regret coming to work today?” one of the humans jabbed, and the next thing you knew, you were being shoved aside by one strong arm. Wrecker had appeared behind you, jostling forward to place himself between you and the table at the last vitriolic utterance, and he rose to his full height, cracking his knuckles as he looked at each of them in turn. 
“Oh look, big old loverboy is here to--” the Weequay never finished his nasally taunt, instead finding himself lifted by the scruff of the neck and tossed straight behind the counter, where he crashed into a trash can and a pile of empty bottles that clattered around his crumpled form. His cronies flew to their feet immediately, with as much intimidation as they could muster in the awkward movements of getting out of a booth, and banded together to face Wrecker with faces set in grim resolution. The diner grew quiet, a thick tension settling into the air, as the other customers watched with apprehension.
“Anyone else?” he invited, eyebrows set low in a menacing stare. 
“Wrecker,” you whispered, pulling on his arm from behind, “You’re going to destroy the entire restaurant.” He hesitated, tilting his head to indicate he’d heard you, then looked back to the snarling band of insulted hotheads before him. 
“Yeahhhhh, don’t mess up her pretty little restaurant!” the Twi’lek mocked, making Wrecker’s decision for him. He moved like a flash, swiping his arms out to the sides and taking advantage of their neatly-lined up stance to smack all their heads together in one sickening, echoed thud that dropped all four to the ground immediately, passed out cold. You gasped, taking a step back at the unexpected movement, mouth open in shock and awe. A few patrons burst into laughter and applause, cheering from their booths, and the cooks yelled a chorus of approval from behind the thin window that opened to the kitchen. Wrecker slowly turned to face you, eyebrows that had been razor-sharp a moment ago curving up to regard you with earnest curiosity. 
“Sorry…” he began, but you flung yourself against him, stretching to get your arms around him as much as you could to pull him into a tight, appreciative hug. He paused for a moment, then slowly enveloped you in his embrace, mind buzzing as the rest of the cafe returned to their conversations and meals. You pulled back, looking up at him with admiration and cupping his face in one hand, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb.
“Don’t be sorry! You’re my hero, sweetheart. My beautiful big--” 
You didn’t get to finish what you were saying, as he bit his lip, brows furrowing suddenly, and tore himself from your grasp, disappearing out the back door. Frozen for a second in a dumbfounded stupor, you grabbed a coworker’s elbow as she passed by, “Can you cover my tables real quick?” She nodded, giving you a knowing wink, and you turned to follow Wrecker into the alley behind the diner. He was pacing restlessly, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand and muttering at the ground. When he heard the door close behind you, he glanced at you with those puppy dog eyes again, then bit his lip and continued his movements. 
“Hey baby…” you crooned, not seeing him wince slightly at your voice, “What’s the matter?” 
He slowed, dropping his hand from his neck and pausing to regard you evenly. His face was a kaleidoscope of expressions, impossible to read, and you were clueless to the turmoil within. You didn’t know how much you’d grown on him over the last number of months, how frequently his thoughts turned to you, how your gentle touches made his heart swell in his chest. But he’d also seen how you lavished such affection on everyone, and he felt an increasing sense of internal conflict that was driving him crazy, trying to discern if he were just another customer or… more than that. 
"Don't ever do that again! You have no idea what it does to me…" he said suddenly, the vehemence in his gravelly voice stunning you a few steps back as he stared at you. Your mind was racing, trying to catch up, and his body was still coursing from the adrenaline of the last few minutes.
“...do what?” you asked, holding your hands up in helpless surrender. Your large eyes met his, round and unguarded, brimming with emotion. He melted inside at your genuine confusion, and he dropped his chin toward the ground, rubbing his forehead in consternation. “Wrecker, I’m sorry,” you began, still unsure of what you were apologizing for, but you ached to see him this way. You drew nearer, tentatively, and laid a hand on his forearm. He dropped his arms to his sides, taking a deep breath and raising his gaze to your face. 
“It’s okay,” he said, quietly now, with a crack in his voice that tugged at your heart. “I just…” he fumbled, casting his eyes about as if the words would appear to him somewhere in the alleyway, and settled for a disappointed grunt. A realization hit you, a possibility, a chance… it blossomed warm throughout your limbs. You were wildly unsure, but propelled onward by an unseen force as you slowly stepped closer, bringing yourself within inches of his hulking form, which was uncharacteristically deflated. 
“Hey,” you said, soft as velvet, coaxing him to look at you. His mouth twisted, eyes reluctantly lifting to yours. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…” you ventured, reaching up to ghost your fingers across his cheek precariously, heart thrilling when he closed his eyes and leaned into your palm ever so slightly. “Oh…” you breathed, feeling one of his strong arms slip around your waist, pulling you flush against his broad chest. His eyes opened, rendering you frozen to the spot, and his face curved into a blissful grin. 
“I was afraid I liked it too much,” he murmured, capturing you with his gaze, unfathomably soft and yet enticingly intense. “I mean, you’re so sweet to everyone…” You beamed at him, looping your other arm around his neck, positively vibrating with the tingles that resulted from your body being pressed against his. 
“It’s my job,” you conceded, “But… I’ve got a particular sweet spot for you, Wrecker.” His tiny gasp was overwhelmingly endearing, and a giggle slipped past your lips, drawing his eyes down to them. He bit his lip, eyebrows drawing together as he darted his gaze back to yours for a moment, then swallowed hard. The slow lean that brought his face to yours seemed to take an eternity, and you relaxed your eyes closed, feeling his arms draw you in more tightly, still holding you as gently as a fragile treasure. When he pressed his mouth against yours, sweet and salty and so soft, you sighed in utter bliss, tilting your head to nuzzle more closely against him. He lingered for a moment, then pulled away with a quiet smack and a sharp inhale, looking down at you in adorable surprise. 
He opened his mouth to speak, but finding no words whatsoever, slowly closed it. You slid your hands down his chest, wrapping him in a hug and turning your head sideways to lean against him. His heartbeat pounded against your ear, charming you again with the disproportionate tenderness that resided beneath his intimidating brawn, and one of his hands roved soothingly up and down your back. He sent another burst of tingles through you when he pressed another kiss to the top of your head, causing you to pull away to look up at his affectionate face once again. 
“I have to get back to work,” you admitted, hating every word. He let out a breath, nodding slowly, then pinched your chin with gentle fingers, white and brown eyes soaking up your presence as though it were life itself.
“Maybe I can come by when you get off.”
“I’d love that.”
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miutonium · 1 year ago
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Im so sorry @jils-things but you made me want to go on a tangent about art supplies in a bit cuz I'm a nerd andhekqkwkdjwoqo i lov u pls dont go away- 😭
Anyway yes I usually make a very light sketch with my pencil so that I could erase it easily for me to retrace it but I am here to make a very important public announcement and I feel that it is my duty to inform the public on something that could be beneficial to the society.
Behold: Kneading Eraser
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This fucker have multiple names; Putty eraser, gummy eraser, kneaded eraser,clay. It's going through a phase, please don't judge it, let it change name every 10 seconds.
What I need is that I want everyone to put everything down and listen to what I say: You run to the art store, Michael's, Art Friend, soup store, whatever store you get your art supply at. You ask the store clerk you want a putty eraser and if they dont give you a putty eraser, tell them they're a loser in malay (it's mak kau hijau. The more your learn folks) and then go to the next store and find a putty eraser until you get them. Its not expensive, it cost me less than 2 bucks for 1 pack of putty eraser.
Why you may ask? Well, I can assure you as someone who draws, putty eraser is much much MUCH better than a normal generic eraser.
First of all, there's no dust. When you erase a line with this boy, there wont be any rubber shit nugget clumping on the table and making a mess on your bed (i know you hate your spine too and likes to draw on bed i live in ur walls u guys better sleep with 1 eye open). I'm so serious like I have 0 eraser shavings in my house since I use a putty eraser. Please stop sleeping covered in eraser shavings.
It's also malleable. You can literally shape it to whatever shape that you want so you could erase a a tiny spot that you couldn't reach without disturbing other lines. And it works sooooo well as a stress ball or a toy. People actually knead it into animal shape. Can you shape a normal rectangle eraser into a giraffe? CAN YOU? DO YOU SEE MY POINT?
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Do you suffer from loneliness? Do you need a conversation opener? Are you tired of kneading an eraser to shape it into a friend? Believe it or not, putty eraser is a great conversation starter when you dont want to start a conversation! As a personal anecdote: whenever I sketch in school, if anyone I know sees me sketching, they will always ask me what the fuck is the clay thing I use to erase my lines and then I have to explain to them what is a kneadable eraser and then whenever I demo'd the eraser, an amusing OOOOOOO will come out and they will play with my eraser for like 5 mins. Am I mad that my eraser is taken away? No because the eraser can also be s e p e r a t e d . Black magic fuckery. Please go buy a putty eraser.
Anyway for the pencil, I swear to god if you ever get this pencil, you will never use a normal mechanical pencil ever again.
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The pencil I'm using is called a drafting pencil, specifically Pentel Graphgear 500. There's tons of drafting pencil in the market but just look at this one because other's are expensive and you will cry. This pencil had a plastic body but the base is made of metal so its pretty heavy. It feels v e r y c o m f o r t a b l e on the hand, like the moment you hold it, you will believe that this is how mechanical pencil suppose to be. It just fits so perfectly with the contour of you finger. The weight feels so nice on your hands and the grip is very comfortable. The pencil sleeve also doesnt budge so you don't and won't have any issue of lead breakage (unless you press your pencil really hard)
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It's also very long-lasting. I have 2 of them in my pencil case. The one on the left were bought in 2021 from Muji. The one on the right were bought in 2015. It still works fine despite being 8 years old. I don't think I ever have any mechanical pencil that is long lasting like this one. This is legit one of the product that I would say would last a lifetime if you take care of it well.
This ends my sleepy deprivation fueled post for today.
TL;DR: Please go buy kneaded eraser and a drafting pencil I am on my knees rn-
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simplyjustadrain · 11 months ago
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Welcome to the Scott Pilgrim Marauders Map, this came to me in a vision from the heavens after reading the Scott Pilgrim comics and spiralled wildly out of control.
This is sort of a plan for a fic? I’ve written a couple things before but nothing super detailed or longer than maybe 500 words so this would be a huge project and I’m putting it here because my friend (@folkwhore12) told me to and I do whatever she says, also just in case anyone just as insane but better at writing than me wants to take this up and write it hehe.
Couple things to note, this would be extremely Pandora x Lily centric, I love Jegulus more than I love breathing but I swear there is a drought of Pandalily fics in this fandom and I am so very close to dying of thirst. Let the lesbians have their fun.
Another thing is I want to make it clear that Pandora in this is not a weirdo and is not dating a minor, whilst she may be the Scott Pilgrim of this universe she isn’t as deeply flawed as he is. She’s Scott in the way they’re both autistic and kind of a loser. The Scott Pilgrim universe is all about overcoming flaws and all that and honestly this idea came from Pandalily rather than character exploration, but trust me her struggles would not revolve around dating children.
As for Lily, she is just Ramona Flowers. I don’t really need to say more but i’m going to because I love Lily and she deserves more recognition. I love the comics because they’re about Ramona just as much as they’re about Scott and I really felt that in the new anime as well. In my head Lily is a perfectionist, she likes to have control over everything which is why, like Ramona, she’s been the one to break off every relationship.
Ok as for the more fun aspects of this I know it’s insane I’m well aware.
Introducing, the 7 Evil Exes of Lily Evans:
1. Sybill and Lily have a primary school playground wedding when they’re about 8 years old and Sybill doesn’t stop thinking about her for the next 14 ish years.
2. Marlene and Lily get dared to kiss in high school (13/14) and Marlene falls head over heels in love (so real of her). She meets Dorcas Meadowes and realises she might be head over heels in love with her as well and that’s where it gets complicated.
3. James is the odd one out (jumpscare he’s a man). Him and Lily date for maybe three months in year 9 (age 14/15) and where he’s making lists of baby names and picking out flower arrangements, Lily realises that she’s 100% most definitely into women.
4. Dorcas is where it gets serious for Lily, they’re 16-18 and picking unis and despite the fact they’re wildly, madly, soul crushingly in love, they both have dreams and they go their different ways.
5. Narcissa and Lily were incredibly dysfunctional and a bit insane together. Eventually Lily decided maybe it was a bit too insane for her (that’s saying something) and broke it off, which then made Narcissa decide to quite sensibly destroy the world.
6 + 7. Andromeda + Bellatrix were Lily’s very successful attempt at revenge. Maybe Narcissa was getting a little too stalkerish or something (I haven’t figured out the details yet) but Lily decides that she’d quite like to have the bragging rights to say she dated every Black sister.
(8. Narcissa again (just trust me on this) Lily’s revenge plan, whilst successful, was successful in a way she wasn’t expecting. Narcissa being the ultimate evil ex and the future organiser of the league, only sees Lily’s revenge as incredibly evil and falls in love with her villainous instincts even more.
If anyone finds this even mildly interesting I’ll talk about all the other characters because otherwise this will get far too long - I cannot stop talking about Wallace Wells as Regulus Black even if I tried lmao.
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waitingondaisies · 1 year ago
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
thank you for tagging me @glove23!!!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
- 29
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
- 556,655 (a PALINDROME!!!!!!!! omg i love palindromes what a lovely coincidence)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
- I have fics posted for harry potter, dungeons and daddies, and irondad. my current wips are for hp, irondad, and i have one atla wip that may never see the light of day based on how fast progress on it is (like… 500 words a year? if that? it’s bad)
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
- How Like Home Harry Potter, Dimension travel AU, 158,008 words, incomplete
-Phoenixes are Pests Harry Potter, this one has a comic drawn by @minryll! and the entire idea for it came from her too, 1,541 words
- In Plain Sight Harry Potter, severitus AU where snape goes undercover as one of harry’s classmates and gets to know harry, 93,784 words
- Close to the Chest Harry Potter, sequel to In Plain Sight, 37,115 words
-Under Your Skin Harry Potter, severitus AU where snape takes harry’s place in an umbridge detention and gets her ousted, 26,672 words
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do my absolute best to!!! The main reason I write fanfic is because I love the community around it! But sometimes I have to choose between responding to comments or working on the fic they commented on and I get the feeling that people would prefer that I write the fic rather than respond to their comments XD
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I’m not much of one for angsty endings, I love angsty beginnings/middles, but I like to end on hope. So that being said, I do have an incredibly angsty ending that I might write for worth living for i might also go the sappy happy ending i originally had in mind. i might do both. who knows.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
since I already answered the previous one with a fic that doesn’t have an actual ending, i’ll avoid saying how like home for this one since that technically does not have an ending. instead, i’ll say This Is Our Salvation a real world-ish drarry AU that’s kinda weird but is the second fic that came to mind and not enough people have read it to be able to contradict me so yeehaw baby
8. Do you get hate on fics?
much less now that I moderate comments on how like home! but yeah I do still sometimes get it, and it’s a bummer
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
not often, but like I love the community around fanfic, and people are weird about commenting on and interacting with explicit fics so it’s just not what I gravitate towards with my extremely limited writing time these days
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
nope!
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
gonna combine these previous two into one because i once had someone use google translate to translate my fic into spanish and then posted it to wattpad (all without notifying me, as i request in my permissions statement on ao3) and what’s hilarious is spanish is the one language i’d be able to tell that it’s google translated rather than earnestly translated. i’ve had other people request to translate hlh to other languages, i gave them the go ahead, but as far as i can tell, nothing ever came of that
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
a couple times! the longest fic I co-wrote is no longer on my ao3 for various reasons, but I also worked with minryll on the aforementioned phoenixes are pests and @yes-i-am-happyaspie have a fic we’re co-writing that i SWEAR i will get back to!!!
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
i don’t like… go that hard for romantic ships.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
i will finish all my wips i swear to god. i will be eighty fucking years old chipping away at these bitches if i must, but they WILL be finished.
16. What are your writing strengths?
introspection baby! unfortunately that means my characters are probably way more emotionally intelligent than they should be based on canon but such is life
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
summarizing. there’s a reason hlh spans like. two weeks of time. that’s because i hate summarizing when i could spell out everything that happens. and i know it’s a problem and i’m working on it!!! but like not as hard as i should because it’s hardddddd 😭
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I haven’t really run into this issue, but hypothetically I’d need to find a confident speaker of the language to give my dialogue a pass before I’d be willing to publish it
19. First fandom you wrote for?
harry potter
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
how like home baby! it’s my pride and joy, my magnum opus, and white fucking whale that will never be over XD
i am going to tag @yes-i-am-happyaspie @ctrsara @ambpersand @gabagal @reachingforaspark @spagbol99 and that’s all i’ve got off my head even though i know i’m forgetting people
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sketching-shark · 2 years ago
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(Sorry in advance for this post/question/thing. Please feel free to ignore it if you want)
Regarding LMK Season 4: If I interpreted the last couple of episode correctly, it seems Qi Xiaotian and some of the other characters are finally starting to understand Sun Wukong's mentality instead of bashing him. At least I think/hope so? I haven't finished watching all the translated episodes yet so please let me know if I'm wrong.
From what I've seen so far and despite the changes made from the original story, I still like the new season and the show overall and I'm excited to see what happens next, though I also understand why knowledgeable fans of JTTW may not like it. But regardless of my personal enjoyment of the show, I have to ask: Can someone please be nice to Sun Wukong? Not just Xiaotian? I'm just tired of people being angry at Sun Wukong all the time.
WEH @king-paimon & others who might read this know that you should never feel like you have to apologize if you want to ask me something as long as you keep it decent! In my experience getting asks is fun & often informative :) But good to hear that the main monkey might soon get at least a slight break from everyone except Qi Xiaotian being mad at him 5 ever because YEA! Even if others played a hand in catastrophic events he's like literally the only guy who ever gets yelled at about it! And of course he should take the L when necessary but so should the other guys responsible! Like no wonder the Monkey King chose to exile himself from all human and yaoguai contact for 500 years since he's incapable of doing anything truly good I guess! But I am glad to hear that you're enjoying the new season of Monkie Kid. Even if there are elements of the newer seasons that I don't really like it's still generally a fun adventure. I just have a tendency to want there to be more faithfulness to the og classic, although I am very much aware that this makes me adjacent to that one Axis of Awesome song except with Journey to the West asdgaewfde:
(warning for swearing & general crudeness)
youtube
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piscadilly · 2 years ago
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can i call you something? syssy, perhaps? /j
long ass rebuttal with the original text included for references and transparencies sake. @justanothersyscourse
So apparently none of these things are up for debate because no one can reblog or comment
Nice
[I didn't tag my post as anything because I very specifically did not want any input, whether or not people agree with me. I do not like to engage in discourse outside of when I have something to actually say or on impulse (which has been said and can be found on my pinned post on my blog). I do not owe people debate, my time nor energy, nor my spoons. this includes you.]
@/amaranthis
Go ahead, "make an example out of me," but only after I make one of you.
[cringe.]
First, I swear to god, the only ones making #miserablyDID a thing are people like you. What people like me are trying to tell people like you is that dysfunction is a fluctuating label, and the DSM entry for DID explains that dysfunction can be minimal to non-existent and you can still be disordered, and that's okay.
[as I said in my post that you are ""referencing"" from is that if you do not think what I said happens, happens ever, then you have not seen what I have, and I hope you never do. I have known I was a system since I was 12 years old and I have been both on the pro-endo camp, and the critical/neutral camp of them (as I am currently, the latter.) I have seen a ton of shit both from the Astraea's web truthers and the people I call did elitists, who actually do not believe that you can be functional as a system unless you stop being one by achieving final fusion. and that any variation from their own personal experiences of being a system puts into question their validity at all. they also believe that you HAVE to have amnesia and blackouts or you are faking. you cannot know you are a system because it is a covert disorder or you are faking. you cannot have healthy and consistent communication with your alters, or you are faking. these are all things I have seen people around me online say over the years. perhaps you should do your own research?]
Disordered isn't a bad word and it's not synonymous with dysfunction, and the DSM explains why and how. You just don't want to listen and instead continue to spread the idea that you have be miserable and struggling every day if you're disordered. As if people don't live fulfilling, happy lives with all kinds of disorders.
[i'll take things I never said nor implied for 500 alex. I desperately want you to learn and practice reading comprehension and critical thinking skills because you are sorely lacking that here. I specifically pointed out ONE definition that did elitists use to mean disordered, I never said I personally believe in that, nor that everybody does. I know of other anti-endo or endo-neutral people that I am either friends with or have an acquaintance with that do not think like that. lol.]
No, DID is definitely the exception, right?
You ignore that the DSM allows for someone to reach final fusion and still have DID based on their ability to split later in life.
[the people I am calling did elitists disagree with that idea and will not hesitate to actually say so, because to them final fusion means you no longer have OSDDID, meaning you are no longer disordered.]
You ignore that the DSM explains that a disorder doesn't mean need for treatment, and you silence and hide voices trying to explain that under the guise of protecting endogenics from "hate", meanwhile, the misinformation you're pushing is actively harmful to DID systems.
[again, shit I never said, thought, or intended. you are also CATACLYSMICALLY missing the entire point of my post and that it was that harassing endogenics is not helping traumagenics! when people harass endogenics around where i can see it, I do not feel more validated or safer. I feel uncomfortable and worried because what's to stop them from going further and creating abstract rules on how to be a system, that I may or may not actually fit into, thus in turn causing them to fakeclaim ME as well? fakeclaiming traumagenics is harmful to traumagenics. endogenics can shrug that shit off if they're serious about going around being a system, because that's just par for the course of the kind of shit they get. majority of traumagenics are not actively faking so to accuse them of such is an act of violence against them. sorry you cannot grasp that concept.]
You ignore when we explain that the DSM states that you can be trans without dysphoria, and that in most cases, dysfunction in that case comes from failures on the side of medical practitioners and deniers. Transmeds go against the DSM and current research, and comparing syscourse to that is hugely dismissive of the fight trans people have fought.
[SHIT I NEVER SAID AND THIS IS WHY I SAID YOU WERE INSINUATING I WAS A TRANSMED. was it because I used the term transtrender? was it that? i was hoping that what i said came off as satire-esque and that i genuinely didn't think like that, because i DON'T and it's EXTREMELY obvious when you take a glance at my pinned post. i am mogai, nonbinary, and trans myself and i did not make the comparison lightly, and it is well within my right to do so. i also, in case you missed it, explicitly said that i do not agree with the usage of the terms sysmed or traumascum, but i can understand why and how they might have gotten started and why they are still used by some people.]
In terms of DID/OSDD, the DSM explains that it IS a trauma-based disorder, but no one bothers to read beyond the criteria (which also mentions trauma? The and/or doesn't mean trauma is optional, but go off I guess). Sysmeds support the DSM and current research.
[so are you against or for the term sysmed then? also please take note of your own language here, Current Research. we do not fully understand the brain, once again, and that includes how trauma affects it and that also includes dissociative and trauma based disorders. we have an IDEA, not a full understanding. i am eager to read about groundbreaking ideas and research into the phenomenon of being plural, both from a traumagenic and endogenic viewpoint because i value knowledge over what others may think exists or not. i'm not a sheep that follows the herd, i formulate my opinions based on what is available to me in the form of facts or peer reviewed opinions, and my own experiences, and my ability to have common sense and critical thought. also why are you saying "go off i guess" like what part of anything i said or am saying is implying that did/osdd are not trauma based. are you conflating me for some other shmuck i saw briefly on your blog? that person and i are not the same person. i do not subscribe or have a rhetoric outside of wanting people to shut the fuck up about how endos are singlehandedly ruining the lives and community of traumagenics.. you guys sound so fucking silly to me honestly. that and stop fucking fakeclaiming systems. period.]
The fight isn't comparable, and you're basically denying science and history at this point in favour of an argument that doesn't actually apply.
[you are lying abt what i said and believe in. would be funny if i wasn't so fucking exhausted.]
You ignore the very real damage that IFS has done to the treatment of DID/OSDD, and you ignore our concerns when we say we see the same things coming with endogenics if the language used isn't changed and the line clearly separated.
[i have like, zero idea about what IFS is or what it means because, in case you didn't read between the lines, i stay out of the way of the greater community because you guys are exhausting. i don't like syscourse. i do not like talking about syscourse, and i especially do not want people to fakeclaim me for some extremely arbitrary reason, like me having good communication with my alters, or me being frontstuck, or me being a little/mid ageslider when i am both fronstuck, AND the shell/main fronter, or, fuck, i dunno. spin a wheel, dude! I've been called fake in the past for all sorts of reasons, i cant even remember them all tbh.]
You ignore that we have answers to all of those questions you asked in the tags. We know why and how the cut off age works, and how autism can increase that age to about 12. From the writers of the DSM.
[MY understanding was that it was just a rule because of the CURRENT understanding of the brain and how it works when people age, also that's great to know because about a year ago when i went looking for stuff related to autism and did/osdd there was basically nothing for it. that's great actually thank you for informing me. :) ]
Image In b4 hypothesized, because we can see it now, and the DSM 5 TR has been updated to reflect this new understanding.
[i cannot see the image because of the format of the text editor i am using but i'll look at some point soon.]
You ignore that we already understand how and why those with DID have alters and how trauma plays into that.
[no, not ignoring, issuing a challenge and a call for new information that either solidly confirms or puts into question stuff that's already known. again, i value knowledge. i like to know things, especially related to psychology. it's a SPIN. i am not in a position to be able to conduct my own research and talk about my own findings because i am not in a psychology course at this point in time. but i definitely want to be able to fully understand the brain, the mind, and the related mechanisms, both from a spiritual and scientific point. am i weird for that? maybe.]
You ignore that this means that: those biomarkers, or injuries = DID/OSDD, and that if someone is apparently a system without those injuries, it is completely, 100% different. How can it not be? Those injuries affect every aspect of our lives-- the way we retain, recall, and manage memories and information, our emotional reactions to things. Someone without them isn't going to understand it, but people like you demonize people like me for pointing that out, despite the fact that it's kind of obvious when you think about it.
[i am assuming biomarkers is related to the image i can't see at this exact moment. no, again, not ignoring. i do not spend every waking hour studying did/osdd and committing everything to memory. my mind does not work that way and it sounds tiresome. i look things up when my interest is piqued. like now when i am dealing with you. call me lazy if you want, idk. i do things the way i do things because again, i am a spoonie. i do not demonize you for pointing it out, in fact part of my original post was also about how educating endos and people new to being a system is infinitely more helpful and meaningful than just gatekeeping them and directing vitriol to them. please do reread my post a few times, i find it may help.]
You ignore that the DSM is quite clear about what kind of cultural experiences are excluded and why and how, and it's not for teens on tumblr, and saying it is, is denying the long, hard fight to keep spiritual and religious practices out of the DSM, because they're not the same things.
[personally i find it extremely weird how you are discounting endogenics, pro-endos, and endo-neutrals to only being teens on tumblr and that there aren't any on other sites, irl, or that some of these people may also be adults of varying ages. i never mentioned spirituality anywhere in my post that i know of, as that wasn't the cusp of the matter i was speaking on. if i did then i forgot, so my bad! but i do think i didn't. that is a whole 'nother can of worms that i do not want to talk about because my opinions on the matter are conflicting and complicated.]
We already have the answers, you just don't like them, and you just proved on this post that you don't actually care about education, you care about silencing people who disagree and try to point out that you're misreading and misunderstanding things.
[where the fuck am i silencing anybody? i am not forcing you or anybody else to agree with me and stop harassment of people, both endogenic and traumagenic (who get caught in the crossfire, like i have been by you) i am just inviting people to maybe rethink the way they approach shit and go for education or ignoring them instead of any harassment or bullying. stop using buzzwords lol.]
my text now:
anyway, you in fact did NOT know i was prof dx'd until i said so to you, all it says on my blog is that i have did/am traumagenic, you could've assumed i was lying or that it was a self dx. i can tell by your language in this post that you suspected i was an endogenic by the way you said "people like you" and "people like me"
we are the same. we are both traumagenic systems. you do not have to backpedal and insist you knew all along and that i was wrong in my skimming and understanding of what you said prior, you can admit that you were wrong about something. like i did when i mentioned the cut off age in relation to being autistic not being known. i didn't actually know they figured it out! so again, thanks for informing me. if you have a link to the study(ies) on it i'd love to receive it.
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prettyshon10 · 8 months ago
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No, seriously, the fact that we only have three episodes left has me so nervous, because there’s so much about the CRM that we still have to uncover.
What are these “things” only the inner circle knows about that makes them drink the kool-aid? What is this “swear on the sword” moment supposed to be? What does the “500 year plan” entail?
We know Okafor’s initial intentions were to push up A’s as more open and idealistic leaders who would dismantle the current ways of the CRM and “save the world”. Problem is, people have different views on what it takes to save the world. Obviously, Beale and Jadis have aligned views that contrast with Okafor’s plans. And since her promotion (induction), it seems as though Thorne may be leaning more towards their way of thinking, as opposed to what Okafor had planned for her.
The writing has done such a great job at integrating cult vibes and fascist tones in ways that are realistic. Of course the people inside the city live blissfully unaware. Of course survivors of the ZA—traumatized, grieving, and fearful—so many years in would fall for the “last light of the world” rhetoric. Of course a powerful force would use the fall of society to reshape the world they see fit. Using dialogue such as “I’m a believer.”/“I know it all now. I see why we are out here, doing this”.
While I don’t at all think Rick will fall into Beale’s way of thinking, I am curious as to how Okafor’s influence will ultimately come into play. So much time spent in this environment, as much as Rick would want to go back with Michonne to their family, it’s also possible that he can’t just walk away. He’s definitely been conditioned, but the core of who he is isn’t going to bend towards whatever atrocities the CRM higher ups have deemed to be for humanity’s benefit. If anything, his “swear on the sword” moment might wholly convince him of Okafor’s plans: replace the regime. Which could possible align with Michonne wanting to put a stop to them back in episode two.
The Civic Republic itself is so massive and there’s layers to peel back. I haven’t seen World Beyond outside of a few clips, but the way they’ve been built up in TOWL alone has me so interested in the inner workings of this organization; I can’t see it all crumbling down in a manner of three episodes. So I’m very invested into how Rick and Michonne are going to combat it (and with consideration of innocent civilians), as well as how this ultimately shapes Rick’s mindset.
i'm ngl there's something about the whole thing with beale and the echelon briefing and "when you reach that point (a promotion?) swear on the sword, but don't let it take" that gives me some crazy brainwashing vibes. and beale wanted to debrief rick? oh hell naw. glad michonne got him out when she did.
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jrueships · 3 years ago
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Omg I just thought of such a good ask [redacted] or not. Tell us more about Keldon and Anthony Edwards 🤭
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And it only took 500 posts about them to get this ask ...
IM KIDDING I can't believe I apparently got this ask like five hundred years ago and just. Never saw it. Insane. People who ask me stuff then see me just continue to reblog and post without answering must be pissed off at me but i SWEAR I don't do it on purpose 😭😭 I just forget and have zero attention span 😭 but YES finALLY i get to talk about THEM RAAAAGH!!!! YEA!
OKAY SO... the Idea of someone whose favorite musician is Mariah Carey bein in a relationship with someone who's favorite rapper is lil baby.. is Really funny to me. Not even in some white 'omg rap is so hArdCoRe' nonsense way, but that they're both such Strange favorites to have.. not as odd as James Harden being lil baby's husband but STILL. It shows a little shared Niche interests and yet so different ones at the same time! The idea of keldon and ant singing a mariah Carey song in the car together .. keldon screeching the windows cracked.. ant calling up record stations to let them know a new power singer duo is coming out (literally And hypothetically). Seemingly Extreme opposites who aren't Really all that opposite is just.. chefs kiss man !! Some people would originally think like 'oh keldon is kinda a cheezeball like they won't get along ant is too Cool' or whatever but ant is ALSO a huge dork and together they act like such DORKS that people wonder why they ever doubted their friendship in the first place! Friendly Rivals to best friends to lovers perchaps 🤔 ?? IDK ! They're very ' Dude, what does my tattoo say?' "Sweet!" What about mine?' ' "Dude!" What does mine say?' "Sweet!" What about -' and etcetc!
Also .. not to be zodiacy but.. ant is a leo and keldon is a libra and Trust Me. They are VERY compatible. They can bounce off each other and joke with each other! Laugh at ALL eachothers jokes, help confidence boost up each other's egos! Both are Pretty Clingy signs so they wanna be With each other and make each other feel good Mutually!! Essentially be each other's hype mans! They can be competitive with each other but in a constructive and joking way that drives the other forward without discouraging them !! But ALSo they can both be serious and there for the other when needed which is REALLY important. Both have feelings that others tend to discard due to their outer personalities. They're one of those ships that are like.. u can't even really Explain why they're good together ... they just Are. And those are really some of my Favs !
💙💙💙💙
FOR THE FIC IDEA WITH THEM.. i had like. So many ideas.. one was a jousting knight romance LMAO.. but ill tell one of the simpler fic ideas i had in mind to sound sane.. it's a lil cheesy apartment pets idea n .. yea <3
SO BASICALLY.. ant is walking his dog by having it run while he follows it on a skateboard. He's been TRYING to teach ant Jr how to skateboard too like all those cool skateboardinh dogs with the sunglasses, but it's a work in progress! But his dog starts running and it makes him collide with Keldon on his rollarskates walking HIS dog! They apologize! Ant Jr starts trying to hump keldons dog.. a boy dog.. it's cool they don't judge tho <3 love wins LMAO
and then they realize like.. hey! That's my old highschool classmate! Ant was basically like.. Mr. Football in highschool. Popular, in every sport, most likely to become president one day, charming, got a ton of girls , golden boy etcetc. Everyone expected him to do good things! Keldon and him were Friends but like.. class friends. Keldon helped him pass biology and zoology, which ant took ONLY for the field trips! They talk and keldon is like.. REALLY admiring of ant and wants to know how well he's doing and what professional sport he's in rn and ant is like.. oh Shit. I gotta Impress him!! So he elaborates on some.. Tall Tales. Tells keldon how he Could've gone to the nba but the nba saw he was gonna be Michael Jordan 2.0 so they HAD to NOT let him join in sake of mj's legendary legacy. Or how he once beat Micheal Phelps in a swim race all by swimming straight down to the other side of the earth and coming back at the end of the pool Still beating Michael's time. Or how he was SO good at dancing with the stars that he made the judges feel So inferior that they refused to air his episode, Or how he hit a baseball through the scoreboard and downing a space shuttle that sent Google maps crashing for five days. Just a Ton of things to impress keldon, which it DOES because keldon is kind of stupid 😭 and0 his genuine enthusiasm and praise makes ant into a perpetual Elaborater (liar) because he loves keldons little gap toothed smile SO much. They talk some more, introduce their dogs, keldon gives ant Jr a treat he REALLY likes! then ant says how he's recently moved to this new apartment that allows some bigger dogs. Turns out keldon lives in the same apartment complex on the same floor! They exchange room numbers and suggest a visit and leave from there! Ant really WANTS to visit but he also doesn't know what to do about all his lies.. tell it to keldon straight? He feels Awful for lying so much, likes he's twelve again or something.. but he doesn't want to let keldon down .. IN HIS DEFENSE.. he didn't think keldon would actually Buy into them.. but ALAS! A moral dilemma !
But then later in the night ant's dog gets out and Fatefully scratches at keldon's door, craving more treats. Ant runs out in his patrick seastar styled pj's to get him and scoops him up only for keldon to wake up and answer the door in his spongebob pjs. Ant apologizes, explains the situation, turns to leave all embarrassed and scolding his dog for waking keldon up (and himself), only for keldon to invite him inside and tell him it's okay. They let their dogs play as they drink hot cocoa together and bond. Keldon tells him he's working at a zoo nearby helping with the agriculture! The plants and plains etc! Then ant is like.. shit. Thats REALLY cool.. I gotta tell him smthing cool too.. so he just starts LYING again!! Says he's some big time rapper who gets like 10 million views per SONG! keldon of course BUYS IT.. n the lies Grow. EVENTUALLY the whole 'ants dog shows up at keldon's door' event continues until it becomes a daily part of their lives! Keldon sets an alarm for night labeled 'ant jrs treat time!!' Which he later adds ' and big eds talk time!!' Ant starts staying over till the morning.. they play videogames.. ant helps (chaotically) make keldon breakfast, keldon gives ant some plants to take back to his apartment and decorate.. ant writes some (romantic) rhymes about keldon..
Then one day dame, an actually Famous rapper who lives a door across keldon's with cj and their shared adopted stray kitten, visits keldon at work while keldon is shoveling zebra shit and he's like 'sorry 2 bother you bruh but I saw this one dude setting up his? Dog ? at your door?? Like telling it to sit n stay then hiding behind a corner n coming out as soon as you open the door ???' N keldon is like 'ant???' And dame is like 'that's his name? He keeps commentin on my songs, sayin how they suck. He's kinda a lil hater cus he ain't make it big yet, i think? Cj don't really like him, but i don't mind the talk. I'm jus sayin tho.. if he's botherin you or sumn.. lemme know. Just wanted to tell you that' so yeah.. keldon finds out LOL
Next night ant's Other dog is at keldons door. Keldon waits to ant acts like he ran all the way over in a hurry to ask him if he keeps putting his dog here on purpose. Ant says 'nuh uh. different dog.. see?' Keldon doesn't buy it, let's him inside though, and they talk.. Basically keldon is like 'you know.. you don't have to make excuses on wanting to hang out because- I DO! i really DO wanna talk to you and hang out and play videogames and all that stuff!! It's okay! I think you're really cool, you know!! Big star or not!' And ant is like... shieeet.. alright... n he comes clean. Profusely apologizes for lying all the time.. ready to cut things off.. but keldon Doesn't. He forgives him, understands how bad pressures can be.. is a little flattered how much ant wanted to impress Him when keldon was already impressed Enough from just Seeing him! They reconcile.. ant let's keldon know 'no more lies . ' and keldon nods .. and Ant leans close. Holds him close and dips him well enough to make a dancing with the stars judge jealous . Kisses him soft, and tells keldon he loves him.
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enchantinglyjade · 2 years ago
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Milk & Honey - Ch. 19
Austin!Elvis x Black!OC
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Summary: King worries about his friend and sends Honey to check out a new club in town
Warning: Swearing, tensions of sorts
Note: In light of everything else that’s been happening on my page recently, here’s a happy chapter finally! Also, thank you so much to all my supporters and for getting me to 500 FOLLOWERS! WOO!!
Song: Sugar Pie Honey Bunch - Four Tops, My Babe - Little Walter
Playlist
-
‘If you wanna find yourself, first thing you do is go home.’
“Happy Birthday dear Charles
Happy Birthday to you!”
My voice, and my voice alone, bounces off the bare walls of our home as Charles readies himself to blow out his candles.
Martin Luther King Jr. was recently murdered, 2 years ago Elvis got married to the woman he met in Gemany, and my baby turns 9 years old, 9 years without ever meeting his father.
9 long years.
I watch as he digs into his cake, flying straight past the idea of cutting slices. I swipe my finger along the top of the cake, smearing the frosting, before bringing it to my lips. Not like anyone else is having some anyway.
“So, when are we leaving?” He asks, sucking lumps of cake off his fingers.
“Baby, I don’t know if you’re ready for all that excitement.” Boy’s been begging me for months to bring him to Beale, but everything with Martin Luther happening not so long ago, I’ve been hesitating to say the least.
“Mama, you promised to take me to see the city!”
I was scared, but how could I say no to the boy? He’s been asking for too many days, and I did promise him. I sigh. “Okay, but we can’t stay for too long.”
He immediately jumps up to wash his hands and throw on his shoes, causing me to laugh at his excitement.
We ride a Greyhound into town. I watch as he peeks out the window to look at the buildings that pass by.
I dont bring him out as often as I should. I don’t trust many others in our neighborhood, and honestly, I usually don’t have enough for the bus fare to bring him places like downtown all the time, but I had been saving up to take him on this little day trip like he asked. 
We step off the bus and onto the streets, his face glows with fascination. “Mama, I love it here!” He exclaims, shaking my arm.
So did I once. It had grown dull since I last saw it, not to mention the morbid fog that covered the city from recent events. It’s nothing like how it used to be, but it would always feel like home.
“Where do you wanna go first, baby?” I ask as we stroll down the sidewalk hand in hand.
He looks around, pondering, before his eyes land on the brightest shop. “Ooo! Can I get some candy?”
“Sure, let's go.” I reply happily, trying to match his excitement level despite the nervous energy I just couldn’t shake off today for some reason.
A man stands outside the bright red painted door, greeting passerbys, that is until I attempt to reach out for the door. He blocks the handle, “Uh uh, little one. Back door. Bad for business.”
I huff, taking Charles around to the back. Shouldn’t even bother to go in after that, but I’ll be damned if my son doesn’t get some candy on his birthday. Jim Crow laws may have been overturned for a while now, but that didn’t stop people from holding on tightly to their opinions. Things had only gotten more tense recently.
Once Charles picks out his birthday candy we continue walking the street before we come across a building I was all too familiar with. We come to a stop admiring it, memories flooding my gut with a twisting feeling.
“Is that Club Handy?! It’s just like she described it!” Charles jaw drops, jumping on his toes to try and get a peek into the window.
Hold on. What?!
“Charles, how do you know anything about this building?” I ask, hands on hips.
He pops a Razzles in his mouth, obnoxiously chewing with his face smooshed against the glass. “Auntie Pearl told me you used to work here.” 
I smile. I missed Pearl. About a year ago she got married and moved away. Of course we still call each other about every other night, but now it was her turn to start a family. I had to all but force her out. She was so worried about Charles and I on our own. It was sad to see her go, but she had helped me raise him for so long, she deserves to focus on her own happiness now.
He spins around to face me, blue tongue peeking through his teeth while he talks. “She said you used to meet famous people here too, like Little Richard and-and Elvis too! Is it true?” 
Right…that old issue. So, I never did end up telling him. How could I?
I know what you’re thinking, I’m just like my mother, but with Ma it was different. My dad was a plantation owner’s son that no one has ever heard of, except maybe his local gas station workers. There was no reason she couldn’t have told me at least his name.
What am I supposed to say to Charles? Forgot to tell ya, but your dad’s that national superstar you watch on TV who’s married to another woman, lives on the other side of the country, and that you’ll probably never get to meet because I have no way of getting in contact with him??
Even I wouldn’t believe that.
I know I have to tell him eventually, and I know that the longer I wait the worse he’ll react, but maybe when he’s older he’ll be able to understand better, even if it means he’ll hate me for it. For now, I just tell him his dad’s in the Army and will be away for a long time. Luckily, Pearl and I have always been great at distracting him when he asks, so I’ve never had to come up with anything beyond that. Besides, it’s not a COMPLETE lie.
“Can we go inside?” He begs.
I chuckle. “Baby, this is not a place for kids, and it’s only open at night.”
“Mama, there’s a man in there right now!” He proclaims, pointing into the window. I peek inside seeing none other than Sunbeam himself greeting customers near the entrance of the drug store area. I swallow, not wanting to be seen, but not wanting to let Charles see me panic. “Please, Mama! It’s my birthday!”
I gnaw on my lip. Always using the birthday trick on me. “Okay,” I hesitate out.
He yanks my arm, pulling me through the entrance. I barely make it through the door before Sunbeam recognizes me and is hopping his way over to hug me.
“Honey! Is that you? How you been? It’s been too long, girl.” His naturally bubbly and boisterous voice fills the drug store.
I giggle, always feeling so welcomed by his personality. “I been great, Sunbeam.”
Charles pokes on Sunbeam’s arm, bringing his attention from me and down to him. “I’m lookin to meet famous people, know where I can find me some, sir?” 
I bite my cheek, holding in a laugh. It’s odd. Elvis and I were such shy, quiet children, but Charles is the bravest and most frank little boy I’ve ever seen. “My son.” I point out.
Sunbeam chuckles. “Quite a boy you got there. What’s your name?”
“Charles. I’m gonna be rich one day.” He states mighty and proud, doing a pose just like his daddy used to do after reading that damn comic book.
Sunbeam begins laughing so hard that he has to pull his handkerchief out his pocket to cover the coughs that came out with it. “I ain’t got no doubt’s about it with an attitude like yours, boy.” He shakes his head with a bright smile. “Some folks are upstairs doin their ol’ ritual or whatever if you wanna go up and join ‘em. Wouldn’t wanna keep your boy from meetin any influential individuals.” He bursts out into a laugh again, before turning back to some other customers, handing out fliers to a show happening tonight.
I smile, taking Charles' hand. He hops up the stairs excitedly, but each step closer to the club area fills me with a pain I thought I had gotten over by now. Memories flash so vividly past my eyes I could nearly see them play out in front of me. My nerve-wracking first day, being the new girl in town in such a big city. Seeing Elvis walk through these doors before each of my performances. Vickie and I gossiping on the steps during our breaks, laughing about any rude customers that came in.
I push through the doors revealing the smokey brown club. Every picture frame is hanging on its nail exactly how I remembered it. Every door frame and floor board still has the same cracks and chips. It even smells the same.
“Uncle B.B.!” Charles yells, running to the bar.
“Hey kid!” King puts down his drink to greet my boy.
King’s here? 
There’s a group of other musicians in the room, warming up for their nightly session. I wave to them shyly before pulling up a stool next to King at the bar.
King warmly smiles, opening his arms to me. “Hey, Honey. How are you?”
I smile, embracing him. “I’m doin fine. How are you?”
But before he has a chance to answer, Charles plops down in front of me. “Uncle B.B., my Auntie told me you were friends with Elvis. Now, you know I wanna be a serious actor one day, so I’m gonna need you to spill his contact information.”
King laughs, always shocked whenever Charles opens his mouth “Sorry kid. I ain’t talked to the man in years.” Charles stomps off with a loud groan, going over to talk with one of the other musicians. “Happy Birthday by the way!” He chuckles, shaking his head at the boy.
I sigh, that boy will be the death of me, especially with his new found interest in acting. Looks like I didn’t need to tell him who his father was for him to still want to go after him.
“You still ain’t tell him?” King asks softly with a raised eyebrow.
I scoff. “Do YOU know a way to reach him?”
He laughs dryly, resting his head on his knuckles. “Nah, Colonel won’t let no calls through. You ever try going to his house? You do live 20 minutes from him.”
“You think after 8 years I ain’t never thought to do that? He ain’t never home! Been in California making all them shit movies and I ain’t about to sit outside in the hot sun with thousands of people, gettin gunned down by his security for hours just to find out he ain’t even there. Besides, wouldn’t wanna interrupt whatever he’s got goin on with Marcella.” I sneer.
He chuckles, amused at my tone. I tell him over and over again that I ain’t jealous, but he don’t ever believe me. “So, how have YOU been doin then?”
“Surviving.” I blurt out.
He shakes his head with a scoff. “So you just gonna give up music just like that, huh? All cause he moved on and you can’t?”
My brows furrow in offense. “I’ve been singing.”
“Look, all respect, but you and I both know you were meant for somethin bigger than a church choir.” I bite at my cheek, not knowing what else to say. He sighs, pulling something out of his pant pocket. He plants a piece of paper onto the wooden bar, sliding it over to me. I look down, finding that it’s a flier for a club nearby. “Sunbeam done opened up a new club not too long ago. Got himself a couple’a new cats playin there tonight if you wanted to see what’s poppin in the industry right now. Go check em out, get yourself back in the game. Who knows, maybe you’ll find someone YOU can move on with.” He wiggles an eyebrow with a mocking smile.
I roll my eyes, taking the flier. Maybe I’ll go take a peek.
-
I march around the house, adjusting my coat over my shoulders and scavenging for my keys. “Just watch some TV, then go straight to bed. Okay? No leaving the house.” I dig in my purse, before pointing a stern finger at Charles. “And no cooking again!” I finally find the keys buried within the depths of my bag. I huff, hooking my finger around the keyring and walking over to Charles. “I’ll be back in two hours. Call Auntie Pearl if you need anything.” I give him a kiss on the cheek.
He pulls away, disgusted. “Mama! I can’t hear Batman!”
I huff once more, before putting my shoes on and opening the door. “One hour and then straight to bed!” I warn him, but he completely ignores me, still staring into the depths of the TV screen. I groan, closing and locking the door behind me.
My heels clack down the sidewalk as I run down the street to the bus stop, hopping on just at the last second.
Club Paradise, Georgia Ave.
I repeatedly tap my nails against my thighs in my seat, itching to reach my destination. I hear the shrieking of guitars crying as we arrive, and jump up to rush off the bus and follow its sound. 
When I push through the front doors of the club it feels as though a gust of wind blows over me, taking my breath away. The music sends a shiver up my spine, transporting me back to a place I had long forgotten.
It feels good to be home.
Colorful lights parade across the stage as a group fills the large area with the sounds of various instruments. Listeners whoop and shout, standing from their seats to dance with one another. 
Nerves begin settling in my body as I tightly clutch my bag, realizing how out of place I now am to this type of environment. I sneak over to one of the lone back tables, shadowing myself even more so from the already dim lights as I get readjusted to the energy. I smile as the saxophonist goes wild, causing the audience to throw their hands in the air.
“Hey, let me buy you a drink, sweetheart.”
I jump, turning my head to see a man ease his way into the seat next to me, a friend right behind him.
“Unless ya wanna dance?” The friend suggests.
“If she wanted to dance, she wouldn’t be all shy back here. Clearly, she wants to hang in the back with someone mellow like me.”
“Well maybe she’s too shy to go out on her own and’s waitin for a prince to come get her.”
I rub my temple, waiting for them to stop their back and forth nonsense so I can break their spirits and tell them they can both get.
Suddenly, a warmth makes itself present behind me. A sharp, unsettling shiver goes up my back, hitting deep spots throughout my spine both in miraculous and unpleasant ways. The shiver frightens me so much, I don’t even dare turn around to find it’s source, just watching the two men’s faces as they look for me. Then a voice speaks up.
“Perhaps she’s uninterested.”
A voice I could recognize in an audience of screaming thousands.
A hand is placed on my shoulder, paralyzing me. The voice felt like it was engulfing me. It makes my heart race from the unwanted memories that I’ve been trying so hard to forget.
They gulp, but try to keep a tough demeanor in front of him. “We’re just keepin the little lady company, that’s all.”
“That won’t be necessary.” That’s all he has to say to get them to scurry off.
As much as I despised their attention, I could only pray they’d come back to save me from whatever fate is standing behind me.
“You gentlemen have a fine evening now.” He laughs, before stepping over to sit in the chair they were previously occupying. I gaze down at my lap, seeing his knee in the corner of my eye. “Well, I’ll be, Honey.” He chuckles out.
I try to swallow but my mouth’s gone dry. Nervously I look up, hesitant to make direct contact with him, but the second I catch a glimpse of his face I can’t help but to lock in on his eyes. Those baby blue orbs trap me in a trance. It feels like my entire body’s going to crumble to the floor, and honestly, I’d prefer that at this very moment.
I sit, brows raise, too petrified to speak.
He raises an amused eyebrow at me, smirking at my dazed face. “You in there, Bumble?”
Bumble. God! It’s been years since I’ve been called that. For a second, panic flashes through my mind, because I actually cannot bring myself to move after hearing that stupid little nickname. But then I imagine how ridiculous I must look, mouth hanging open while I stare at him. Somehow, I bring myself back to reality.
“Elvis.” I mumble.
Okay, it’s not what I was going for, but it’s a start. At least I can still speak words, or word, I guess. ‘Go find someone you can move on with.’ Thanks for the advice, King.
“In the flesh.” He chuckles. I giggle, sheepishly tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You started wearin your hair curly again.” He states, with a smile.
My head snaps up, not expecting him to point that out of all things. “Yeah…”
He takes a second longer to admire my hair with a soft gaze. “I like it.” He hums, taking a sip from the drink in his hand, before setting it down on the table in front of us. “S’nice seein a familiar face.”
He hides it well, but there’s a pain in his voice when he says those words, but not nearly as painful as my heart was feeling.
“I’m surprised you even remember me. It’s been so long.” I say with maybe a little more sting than I intended, but the hurt was too strong.
He shakes his head sadly. “I could never forget you even if I tried.” And something in his eyes told me he had definitely tried, just like me.
Luckily, the band picks up again, riling up the crowd, so an uninterrupted, intimate conversation was out of the question. Both of us turn to the front.
Two men catch our attention on stage. One slaps the stings of his guitar with a passionate, but concentrated face. The other sits at the piano, joyously laughing while he hits the keys.
“Woo! That cat’s goin to town! Look at him poundin them keys!” 
I sit nervously, watching his reactions in the corner of my eye. He smiles in a way that makes my heart flutter. It felt just like the good old days, before everything had changed. The days when the club was so packed that he could sneak in without getting noticed. We’d watch the performers together and no one would even know I wasn’t cleaning dishes in the back.
The guitarist hits a note with a nasty twang causing both of us to whoop.
I bite my lip, trying to disperse all the excitement that was beginning to bubble within me. God, what’s happening to me? I feel like a teenager again.
“That’s good but it ain’t like Handy. Man, that place was jumpin.” He grins at the memories.
I shake my head. “Nothin’s been the same.” He quickly turns his head to look at me. “Should’ve stayed your ass down in Memphis. We needed you.” Yeah, ‘we’.
His grin disappears, while he looks down at the carpet. “Seems like everybody need somethin from me these days.” He takes another sip from the drink before resuming his attention to the stage. Elvis hums. “So, why aren’t you up there tonight? You still singin?”
My eyes widen. “Oh, I could never go back on stage again. I wouldn’t know what to do anymore. But I did join a choir not too far back. Just a small church one. No one even hears me.” A tingle shoots through my body remembering my last performance for him, or more, what happened after.
He chuckles. “After seein you move, I never could’ve pictured you goin to church. I’m surprised they ain’t burned you at the stake with hips like them.” 
I laugh, feeling suddenly over aware of my hips now. “I joined a choir, not became a nun. It’s not that serious.”
“I take it you don’t work at Handy no more?” He questions with an eyebrow raised.
I shake my head. “No, but King and I are still close.”
He nods slowly, in thought.
We stayed talking all the way until close. Each conversation that passed, the more comfortable we grew. It was almost as if we picked up where we left off and nothing ever happened between us.
“Shit. I missed the bus.” I say, staring down the street at the now empty bus stop, the club lights shut down behind us.
Elvis brushes off my words. “Obviously, I’ll bring you home.” I spin around with guilty eyes. He points his head in the direction of a lonesome black car in the parking lot. “Come on.” He says, offering his arm to me. I take it and let him usher me over, sitting down in the passenger side after he opens the door for me.
The pink Cadillac was gone. Though, I guess it made him far too easy to spot. The black car was good for staying inconspicuous, but I’ll miss the old memories of the Cadillac.
He smiles, starting the car and pulling out of the parking spot. The radio switches on playing one of my favorite ‘feel good’ songs right now.
‘Wanna tell you I don't love you
Tell you that we're through, and I tried
But every time I see your face
I get all choked up inside’
I smile, humming along, before softly joining in, while Elvis drives down the road.
“Sugar pie, honey bunch
You know that I'm waiting for you
Can't Help Myself
I love you and nobody else”
Suddenly, the station switches. I turn to see Elvis flipping through songs.
“Hey! I like that song!” I complain.
He pretends to snore, so I smack him on the arm. He laughs. “Killer bee’s still striking. I forgot. You like doo wops, don’t you?”
“That is not a ‘doo wop’ and there ain’t nothin wrong with them anyway.” I say matter-of-factly, crossing my arms.
He shakes his head, landing on another song. “Woo! That’s more like it.”
‘My baby don't stand no cheatin', my babe
Oh, yeah, she don't stand no cheatin', my babe
She don't stand none of that midnight creepin'
My babe, true little baby, my babe’
He starts snapping along to the rhythm, singing along while making a left turn at a light. I watch him with a smile, before singing with him. He turns to me with a wide grin, dramatically singing the lyrics just to make me laugh.
He pulls up to another light with a happy sigh as the song comes to an end. He goes quiet, looking out into the distance. “Your voice, it ‘minds me of home. Makes me realize it’s been a long time since I been home.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Thought you still have Graceland?”
He shakes his head before landing his eyes on me. “Home ain’t always a place, Bumble.”
Now it’s my turn to go quiet. I stare back at him, not knowing exactly what he means by that and not knowing how to ask either.
He smiles looking into my eyes. “You ain’t aged a damn day.” 
I furrow my brows with a shy grin. “That’s a good thing, I presume?”
He hums, nodding softly. “You’re still my pretty darlin.” A sudden serious look appears in his eyes. “You make me feel like myself again.”
I swallow, watching his eyes as I realize how close our faces have gotten to each other. HIS pretty darlin. I peek down at his lips. Lord, how I missed them. Still so soft and plump. He still has those cute freckles dusted over his face, and those long dark lashes, and-
*HONK*
We jump in place, looking around. The light in front of us is green, and behind us is a line of angry cars waiting. I adjust awkwardly back in my seat, turning to look out the window to pretend that nothing just happened.
Married. Married! God damnit, Honey. He’s married!
Then like that the reality of everything crashes down. God, I haven’t even mentioned anything to him about Charles. Do I tell him tonight? If I don’t tell him tonight, will I ever get the chance to again? What will he think? Will he hate me?
Every mile we get closer to my house, the more I feel like I’m going to faint.
Then, he pulls around the corner, down my block. The car creeps forward, as he looks around with a shocked face taking in the condition of the neighborhood. “You live here?”
I sigh. “S’all we could afford, but we get by.”
He stops the car in front of the house with a deadened face, noticing the lights were on. Damnit, I told him to go to bed. “We?”
Oh shit. Is now the moment? 
“Um, Pearl and I had to move here.” Guess not.
“You still talk to that woman?” He questions, surprised.
I swallow hard, looking down into my lap. “After you left, Ma and Dad died in a car accident. We grew closer after that. She’s not all that bad.”
He takes my hand, holding it tightly. “I’m real sorry to hear that.”
I roll my head on the back of the seat to look at our intertwined fingers. “Sometimes I just feel like you’re all I have left.”
He eyes my defeated form, watching sadly as I meet his gaze. “I know the feelin.” He responds.
I gulp. I’m about to change that. I break loose from his grasp and instead shakily reach for the door handle. “I-um.” I swallow again. “I have something I need to tell you.” I say, as I exit the car.
He looks around confused at my sudden change in behavior, following me outside. He shuts his door, pacing over to my side. “What, Honey? What is it?” His fingers fumble nervously on my door, trapping me between the car and him.
I was really not in the mood to have something like this happen to me today, or anytime soon for that matter. You’d think after all these years I’d’ve prepared a little better for this moment, but I feel so unbearably weak and dumb now that the issue is finally standing right in front or me. 
“Well, uh…” God, I feel like I’m gonna throw up. “You remember the night before you left for Germany?” I basically have to throw the words out from my lungs, otherwise they’d find a way to get stuck there for as long as possible.
His brows furrow, sentiment glistening in his eyes. “Course, how could I forget?”
‘How could he forget?’ Ain’t that some shit. Clearly he did otherwise he wouldn’t have had another woman in his arms only a few months after.
“Well, I uh…” My body shakes. Why is this the hardest thing I’ve ever done? “I got pre-”
“Mama?”
Our heads snap towards the door, where Charles stands in his pajamas. He rubs his eyes, probably sore from all the TV he be watching!
My voice searches for words, mumbling out a few incoherent noises. “Charles, go back inside, baby. I’ll be there in a minute.”
He looks between us, squinting to look closer at Elvis. I quickly pull Elvis’ face towards me so Charles wouldn’t recognize him. Not trusting his eyes, he gives me a look before going back into the house.
I let out a deep breath, but then realize what Elvis just saw. I turn back to the man whose head is still in my palms.
He shakes his head in disbelief right out of my grip. He scoffs out a dry laugh. “Sorry, didn’t know I was in’erruptin somethin’.” He steps away to walk back over to his side of the vehicle.
But before he can go too far, I grab his arm. “No, baby-Elvis!” Shit! I just did that. Oh, please just let me faint or something so I can escape this moment. He looks at me, surprised but still untrusting. “He’s not- I didn’t-”
He puts his hand up to stop me. “No, really it's fine. You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m glad you found someone that treats you better and that gave you a more beautiful family than I ever could.” He spits out, pacing back to his side.
I follow closely behind him. “Elvis, please.”
He places his hand on the roof of his car, staring down at the ground and tapping his foot. He goes silent for an agonizingly long time, breathing deeply with a dark look on his face. He turns around, stepping close to look down at me. I stop myself from breathing too heavily in fear that my chest would touch his if I did. “You let another man touch you.” He states, not asks, sinisterly, more sinisterly than he should be talking with that ring on his finger.
I scoff. Of all things on his mind. “Wasn’t that what you wanted when you left? Another man to pick up what you couldn’t?” He turns away, biting his tongue and popping his jaw, gripping harshly on the car. I shake my head, annoyed that he even has the guts to act like this. “You really think I’d let another man touch me?” I whisper. He hesitantly meets my gaze again, still upset, but slightly hopeful. “You remember any other man 9 years ago that was willing to give me a blonde, blue eyed baby?”
He gulps nervously, before swiveling his head to the side to glance back at the house. He knew what that meant.
I stare dreadfully at the ground. Of all the times I imagined how this would go, I did not expect this. “I wanted to tell you. Everytime I went by Graceland, no one was home. Tried calling but the number changed. I even had King try calling, but Colonel would hang up before we got the chance to speak. Some days I thought about going over to Hollywood to tell you myself, but I never had enough money even if I wanted to, and honestly sometimes I didn’t. You know what Ma went through with me, I was scared what the news would do to him. I don’t want him raised under hatred and flashing lights.”
He continues to say nothing, not even wanting to look at me.
I bite my lip, feeling tears build up in my eyes. I was stupid for not telling him. “Elvis, I’m sorry for puttin all this on you like that. I understand if you dont wanna stay or meet him. I-I get it. I know it’s a lot and that you have Marcella now, and I know I did wrong by not trying harder to tell you. I don’t expect you to forgive me, because even I wouldn’t.” I swallow my tears, putting on a serious face. “Punish me all you want, but don’t you dare go in there, gettin that boy’s hopes up if you don’t plan on coming back.” I say sternly.
Now, he looks at me, stunned and speechless.
“Sometimes I wish I never woulda met my daddy at all knowing now that he was gonna be taken from me so quickly like that. Don’t do that to him.” I demand, tears disobeying me and rolling down my face.
He remains quiet, processing all the information. He takes a deep breath, in thought before meeting my eyes once again. “I wanna be a part of his life.” He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m actually glad to hear he’s mine. I was about to go in there and beat the hell outta whatever man let you live in a shithole like this.”
I sigh, rolling my eyes. The tension in my body slowly dissipates.
“But I can’t stay.”
And like that the stress comes right back.
“I couldn’t stay even if I wanted to. I gotta head back to California tomorrow. Gotta whole lot of people waitin for me back there. I’m just startin to find myself again, Bumble.” He takes my hand, softly running his thumb over my knuckles, but then comes to a stop. Confused, I watch him as some sort of idea pops into his head. “Matter of fact, come with.”
“What?!”
“Come with.” He chuckles out.
“Yeah, I heard you the first time. Elvis, are you out of your mind?”
“I know how peculiar it sounds, but I promised you I’d always take care of you and I meant it. I’m not going back to livin it up in a Hollywood mansion, knowing you and my child are back livin in the projects.”
I stare at him with no words. I couldn’t- We can’t just- Over there? 
He laughs. “Well don’t just sit there like a bump on a log. Let’s get packin. I have a son I wanna meet.”
.
.
.
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beann-e · 4 years ago
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haikyu characters reacting to you screaming back at them
sorry , I changed the characters I went with originally for this but , this is to thank everyone for 500 followers !
tsukishima
- he would only scream at you if his comments of telling you to shut up weren’t working
- then he’d just get pissed off because hey ? how else can he tell you to shut up in a nice way except
“ y/n “ you perked up as you looked at the blonde to the left of you on the bench “ look at me “
you smiled softly eyes never meeting his as he stared ahead not turning to look at you “ tsukki how can you tell me to look at you — then you don’t look at me“ your laugh rang out in the gym loud enough for him to hear and for his body to tighten reminding him why he was pissed off right now
His head turning to you smile spread across his face tightly, eyes roaming your face until he spoke voice holding a tone that rivaled the sweet look on his face “ I swear on hinata and the kings freaky quick y/n —if I hear your laugh one more time i’m going to suffocate you and pound you in the head with a volleyball “
your eyes widened as you turned away from the male “ no no no turn back around baby i’m not done yet “
you followed his words hanging on every word as he continued “ you’ve been chewing my ear off all fucking practice and i’m —look it’s pissing me off you talk talk talk and I really doubt “
he shook his head turning away from you “ if you even know what your saying at this point “ he scoffed “ cause I don’t “
The gym went quiet as everyone started to listen to the argument happening next to them him never stopping the vile words that spilled out from his mouth “ I doubt anytime you speak really if your even talking about something important or if you simply just wanna “ he shrugged his shoulders “ talk“
His mouth quirked up in smirk “ honestly would rather hear pipsquek over there talk about the little giant ten times a day than hear you speak at all “
you dropped your eyes to look at the floor him not trying to stop you only thanking god for the peace and quiet head leaning back to look up to the ceiling in thanks
tanakas voice coming out loud as his anger bounced off the wall of the gym “ you have a beautiful s/o like that and you bully them “ he scoffed mumbling under his breath in pure annoyance “ i’ll show you a bully beanstalk “
daichis hand slapped across tanakas chest like a seatbelt “ you do not need to partake in this trust me your not needed “
“ oi tanaka-san i’ve got your back bro “ nishinoyas small body stomped through the gym as he smiled wickedly at tsukishima only to be grabbed and pulled into daichis hold his small body tucked under daichis arm as he flailed around screaming out small profanities
“ there’s no need becau—- “
“ y’know if you want to hear hinata talk about how he was going to reward you tonight because, of your amazing test score then “ you smiled looking forward “ really go ahead —I don’t mind less work for me “
You giggled softly “ honestly , i’d have thought you’d rather receive your surprise from me but, I always knew you had a thing for him since you make fun of him constantly—he’s always on your mind seriously even when we were watching a movie you’ll bring up something stupid he did at practice “ tsukishimas mouth let out short breaths of air trying to find words to stop you
“hinata—I swear he’s got a boy crush on you “ you could feel the male next to you now eyeing you in disgust and holding even more anger than he had earlier
hinatas body rippled as he waved his body around excitedly thinking of your words really just happy to be included “ YOU DO” his face dropping quickly when he started thinking finally registering your words “ tsukki — TSUKII YOUR A GUY YOU HAVE A —“ he coughed regaining himself chest puffed out as he spoke clear with meaning
“well while I do appreciate the admiration i’d like to say — you have a partner and I don’t really feel very comfo— “
“ YOU DUMBASS THEIR JUST JOKING “ kageyamas voice raced through the room as he slapped hinatas head hard enough that sent him straight to the gym floor eyes rolling back in his head tears leaking out slowly
“ you may continue y/n-senpai we—we all give you“ kageyamas eyes twinkled in love before they went cold tsukishimas own eyes rolling with a small scoff “ and shittyshima our attention”
you turned to look at your boyfriend mock confusion on your face “ god tsukki you should have just told me you liked hinata better I would have let you go then “ you shook your head as he scoffed at your next words your face falling to sadness eyes searching his pure disappointment laced throughout your voice
“ and here I thought you were a big boy capable of dating someone older but I guess “ he was starting to get pissed off of course he could handle you how dare you say he couldn’t “ I guess your not capable of it “
“ I am capable “ he said softly turning to you who did exactly what he did moments ago and ignored the heartbroken look held in the eyes that drilled into your side “ i’m fully capable of listening to you y/n I swear “
you smirked never meeting his gaze “ y’know what here let’s do this “ your smile went wide as you zipped up your jacket and turned while reaching into your backpack
“ what—what are you doing “ his voice was low watching your hands gracefully open the bag and pull out a piece of strawberry cake “ wait— you—you got that for me because of my—”
“ no” you laughed “ no— of course I didn’t get this for you what would make you think of that tsukishima “
his heart dropping “ tsukishima—wha—y/n wheres tsu—“
“I got this for my boyfriend who loves to hear me talk and knows how to say things nicely “
“ but—-but that’s me so you did—you got it for me ?“
you laughed “ no this “ you pointed to the cake “ this is what that person deserved—that nice guy— but this“ your hand moved to open the container as you threw it in his face smooshing his head into it and pulling your hand back as he moved to scoop the icing from his eyes
“ this is for assholes “ you giggled “ like yourself“ you closed the container and moved your hands to set it next to him taking your finger and dipping it into the icing that covered his nose to lick it off your finger as you kissed the now ‘un-iced’ part of his nose
Head moving to whisper in his ear “ you pull some shit like that again and i’m leaving your ass you dont talk to me like that — i’m not yams do you understand me “
“ yes “ his answer was short and low but you knew he understood you as he moved to take his glasses off watching through blurry eyes as you left the gym
Daichi dropping a wide eyed nishinoya to the ground and letting go of his grip on a mouth foaming tanaka “ the reason I said you guys didn’t need to help is because — I trust that y/n knows how to handle a situation like that on their own “ he laughed “ how else would they be dating our wonderfully polite first year if they couldn’t take him “
Your head popped back in the gym as you winked over at the boy knowing he couldn’t see it. Body stopping in a halt while cleaning his glasses you were right he couldn’t see you but he could feel you were there —he could feel something evil lurking changing the air in the once breathable room silently cursing himself out in his head for talking to you the way he did earlier “ oh yeah and guys “
everyone turned to you as he muttered out a low fuck “ tsukishima — your star shit talker yeah—he wears dino undies “ you smiled brightly “ with matching socks “
You turned to hinata already knowing what he was going to ask when you left “no you can’t —he and yams already have matching pairs “ you turned to yams his face red and slowly moving away from everyone else in embarrassment “ sorry babes’—one goes down you all go down together “
the door slamming echoed throughout the gym as everyone went quiet kageyamas voice the first to come out as he tried to stifle his laughs, Coach ukai laughing softly before catching himself and screaming at tsukishima to clean himself and his bench up, the team turning away as nishinoya and tanaka defeated the rest of the boys ego in comments asking how many pairs he had while hinata asked if he ever wanted to match he and yams could go shopping for the taller male.
Yamaguchi to the boys rescue as he watched him clean off his glasses and throw them back on. Tsukishimas hand only reaching out to his side with a low sigh to eat the remaining bit of cake youd just smashed in his face “ god — so perfect “
Suna
-he would get so upset if you keep annoying him about trying. it goes with or for anything
-you would be telling him could he at least put a bit more effort into the relationship and he’d spazz
-or even you telling him the reason you had to drag him out tonight was because, there was no food at home and he would get mad assuming you just wanted to take him from the comfort of his own home
The quiet was loud and spoke for itself as you and the male before you sat across from each other in the restaurants booth. The air swirling in and out of your ear as you waited for him to say something.
Your eyebrows furrowed before you opened your mouth to speak “ bab- “
“ I didn’t want to come out tonight “
your face fell as you waited for him to continue speaking only for him to go deadly silent, uninterested gaze stuck on yours, his body relaxed and leaned down into the booth head thrown back to show off his half lidded eyes. His legs outstretched under the table god he looked so lazy.
Your mind raced thinking how was it even possible to look lazy In public
Your mouth tucked into itself before you let it go a small sigh leaving it “ suna there was no foo— “
“ I wanted to eat at home “ even though he looked relaxed you could tell his voice was tense.
You could feel your body losing itself at his behavior he was such a child when he didn’t get what he wanted and when he was forced outside. Throwing tantrums and whining any time you brung him shopping or stayed out too long and he would start to miss his houses comfort
Your weight getting pulled into the ground to a pit of anxiety. you just wanted to disappear you knew he was leading you down the trail of his attitude.
One more time that’s all it would take one more question , statement, anything spoken and he would snap.
It wasn’t often that it happened but when it did it wasn’t pretty
you heard the scoff that left his mouth as his eyes widened a bit before going back to their half lidded state causing you to shift in your chair uncomfortably
“ so you figured it out — “ he laughed softly “ so now instead of speaking your mind like usual your gonna try to stop the argument before it starts “
he smiled “ neat game “
His arms came down on the table in a huff his face showing a small smirk before it dropped “ gotcha baby —i’ll play —look who’s coming over here “
“ HI, what can I get you guys today “ the lady smiled at you as you dropped your head shaking it carefully already knowing what was going to take place
“ would you two like to start off wit-“
“ how about we start with nothin—“
“ suna “ your voice was warning
“ what “ you heard the challenge laced in his own as he spoke again“ is there something you wanted to do ? or maybe had your mind set on doing ? somewhat like myself ? “
“ maybe — maybe I should come back “ the woman moved to leave your boyfriend voice deep “ don’t move “
you snapped your face to look at him warning him to stop he was enjoying this he knew you couldn’t touch him or even come close. You wouldn’t dare not in public.
“ y’know what I do want to order “ he smirked turning to face the lady who was a bit taken back at the male her body heating up when she saw his smile you knew she had a crush
“ I just wanted to know “ here it comes “ what do you like ? is there anything you recommend “
he laughed moving to lean back against the seat “ on the menu that is— I mean I don’t think your eatable—or at least while working you aren’t so , i’ll suffice for right now “
you scoffed he’s always so cheesy “ well I uh “
“ please leave “ your voice was small “ just go please“
“ I am sorry “ she shook her head noticing your eyes holding a bit of annoyance before running off to a new table
“ who the hell gave you permission to take my fun from me”
“ suna your doing all of this because you didn’t want to leave the house “ you deadpanned “ seriously babe? “
“ don’t limit my problems like that “ he whispered looking around “ your making me look stupid “
“ because it is “
“ no it’s not “ he got louder “ the fuck if it is — your always dragging me somewhere that I don’t want to go I was fine on the couch we had food at home what more did we need ? we didn’t have to come out tonight y/n you just wanted to be extra and fancy“ his voice was raised higher than you’d ever heard it making you remember you two weren’t in the confinement of your own house
“ you just want to annoy the shit out of me yet again like you don’t do that enough. Everyday it’s constant nagging ‘ suna you’ve been in the house for 2 days , suna you never go out unless it’s volley , suna , suna , suna—god you never seem to shut the fuck up unless i’m throwing money at you like a stripper “
you laughter to yourself quietly before he huffed “ we had food at home “
your eyes darted out as you looked around you peoples bodies turning to stare at your table a bit shaken by the males screams “ look at you — wont even admit it — you just like putting on this fake face acting like staying at home is so bad “
he moved to grab his phone harshly off the table scooting out the booth “ fuck this — brought me out the house to eat this crap when I could’ve made a sandwich unnecessary money — unnecessary trip “
his body froze a shudder moving over his body as his gaze went soft at the ground. Legs jumpy but unmoving as his mind raced eyes peering down at the grip you held on his wrist
“ sit the fuck “ your eyes crisp and sharp on his own “ down“ him not even waiting for you to finish before he slid back into the booth body going slack to show the others watching the drama unfold that he didn’t care that his s/o just ripped his image to shreds with three words
“ why are you doing all this huh ? “
his voice was steady “ because I wanted to eat—eat at home I said this “ he shook his head trying to laugh away the obviously tense air that was roaming throughout the restaurant due to your cold demeanor
“ tell me suna “ his name sounded foreign on your tounge when you spit it back out at him mocking the way he said it earlier “ what were you going to eat “
“ a— a sandwich “
“ baby—with what bread ? “
his mind stalled before the gears started again except steering him backwards to think back to earlier “ I—I didn’t see any bre— no “ he spoke softly trying not to show you his obvious mistake
“ aw what was that baby speak up we can’t hear you“ you directed his gaze to everyone around as he shifted to sit up so he didn’t look like he was getting his ass handed to him like a 7 year old
“ I said um — there was “ he shook his head wanting to deny that you were right so badly “ fuck there was no bread”
“ ok and what happens to your so called planned dinner if there’s no bread “
he coughed “ no sandwich y/n “
“ awww no sandwich? “ the fake sadness on your face evident as you mocked him
“ fuck you y/n “
“ not tonight “ his body sinking when he saw the ghosts of smiles on the people’s faces that were listening in on you two
his head dropping to whisper “ I — I wasn’t even gonna try tonight maybe— maybe tomorrow so jokes on you “
you shook your head calling the waitress over as she stumbled a bit scared of your table and the negative energies it held “ ye— “
“ get me my check “
“ you — you only bought water “
you smirked thought about teasing your boyfriend yet again “ no I bought a sandwich remember “
“ wh— “
“ but no really jokes aside —can you actually bring me a “ your mouth moved fast as you asked for your favorite food and for it to be brought out and packaged in a to go box the shared table quiet between you two him never looking up until the waitress came back about 10 minutes later
Her hands stuffed full with 2 boxes and a small one containing the dessert you ordered “ thank you “ you smiled widely
Legs moving to stand as suna followed deciding to make yet again another sly comment“ so you did all this just to buy us dinner to go? real fucking classy y/—“
“ who said us ? “ you let out a small laugh as you took a glance at his face your eyebrows furrowing before they relaxed
“ suna this is for me “
“ wh—“
“ your right we are going home “
“ home but ? we— I didn’t get anything to eat “
you laughed walking off opening the door to the restaurant watching as he stayed still his body never moving from the booth you two sat at moments ago “ baby there’s nothing at home remember “
“ oh but I thought there was “ you smiled softly before your face came up in mock confusion “ your sandwich no ? “
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tryslora · 3 years ago
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2022 Word Tracking Spreadsheet
HERE WE GO. As always, hopefully I have caught all the errors. Please read through the instructions, and if you have any questions or think you've stumbled on a bug, please let me know. The instructions have not changed from 2021.
There is one new tab in the workbook! I have added a weekly tracking sheet, which calculates the week number by date, and sums up the expected total for the week based on your pledge, and the actual total based on what you've done. I calculate based on a Monday start week, because that's how I work. The area on the graph is the expected totals according to your pledges, and the columns will be how you do each week.
AS FOR THIS REST OF IT... ANYWAY....
For those who have been waiting for this spreadsheet, here it is! Sorry to be so late. For those who haven't seen this before, please take a look, use if you'd like, and share if you want to. All I ask is that if you make changes and spread the changed sheet around, please credit me as the original inspiration and link back to the original as well.
2022 Word Tracking Spreadsheet
Instructions and explanation are behind a cut/read more to save your feed/dash. This spreadsheet was developed because I found that it helped me keep myself moving forward from year to year, and I've been using it since 2012. I've been sharing it after folks asked what I was using to track my words, and it has evolved over the years into the version below. The instructions include screenshots from the 2021 spreadsheet and have finally been updated because a few things have changed. So. I guess I should update the instructions!
This spreadsheet was designed to allow you to set monthly goals for your writing, and easily track your words on different projects each day. It totals up your words for the day, your words for the month, and your words for the year. As you carry it along year to year, you can even track trends in your writing habits (for example, I’ve learned that I really suck at writing in May/June/July).
I’m going to go through this tab by tab to show you what’s what, and how to set yourself up and work daily.
We are actually going to begin with the second tab: Monthly Totals. This is where your totals are tracked, and where you set your goals. You can either set all your goals ahead of time, or month by month.
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On this tab, you can fill in your pledges per month, and your goal for the year in the cells marked in grey. The monthly pledges (see column D) will transfer to other tabs as needed, and will be used to calculate a daily expected word count for each month. If you set an annual goal (you don’t have to!), you’ll be able to see how close you are to making that goal, and whether your pledges add up to the annual goal.
New: You can see your words to goal, and average needed per day to get to the goal.
You can see my usual pledges here. I've lowered my goals recently because I've found that around 500 words expected per day actually encourages me to make more, and doesn't make me feel bad if I make fewer.
The Actual column (B) is calculated automatically for you based on what you fill in on the Wordcount sheet, so let the spreadsheet do the work for you!
The next tab we need to take a look at is the first one. This is where you’ll be doing your work, on the tab titled Wordcount.
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It may look complicated, but I swear it’s not! It calculates pretty much everything you need, as long as you just keep copying information from row to row.
It’s set up so it’ll work whether you start a brand new project of 0 words, or carry forward a WIP that had words before the new year started. All you have to do is put in the title, the purpose (fest, community, this is all just for your notes), and the due date, then put in your starting word count. When you add a new project, make sure to fill that starting word count (0 or otherwise) down through ALL the prior days so that your totals stay consistent. The way I do this in Excel is to select from the starting total down to the current date, then choose Fill Down. All rows MUST be filled in or else your words will go negative (see above, where the cell G6 has a value, even though the word count did not change that day).
When a day begins, it’s easy. Just copy down the prior day (except January 1st, just start with the one in place) by selecting from column F through the last column after your current WIP and then copy it down to the next row.
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For example, if I were ready to start Jan 3rd, I select from F6 through I6 (one after my last project) and copy those cells down (I do it by using the little square in the bottom right to drag it down, but you do what's best for you.
When you finish working on a project, enter its current word count.
Now, let's take a closer look at what's above.
I started two projects on Jan 1st: Title and Title2
Title started with 0 words
Title2 came in from last year with 20 words already written
On January 1st, I recorded 100 words for Title and 1200 for Title2, and the sheet calculated that I wrote 1280 words that day
On January 2nd I didn't do anything on Title, but Title2 increased to 1300 TOTAL words (NOT new words), so I added 100 words that day.
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On January 3rd, I added Title3 with 0 words to start, and I made sure that every row in my new column showed those 0 words.
The sheet color codes for days where you are below target or above target in the Actual Words/Day column. It’ll be white on zero days. You can see at a glance your trends for writing.
It also marks projects that have been added to as green on that day in their column, which is nice if you do a weekly or monthly round up. Again, you can see at a glance which projects you've worked on, versus the ones still waiting.
When you finish a fic, simply hide the column (do not delete it). That’s why copying the entire row from F to after last down is important, so you copy the hidden columns too.
Some information about the other columns.
Target Total is where you hoped to be that year by that date. If you’re not there, don’t worry!! Zero days are OKAY and give yourself a chance to catch up another time. If you need to adjust your pledges, go do that on the Monthly Totals tab and everything will update.
The Daily Target is the total you are hoping to reach to stay on target toward the Monthly Pledge for that month–it’ll be different each month depending on what you pledge.
Now let’s move on to some of the fun tracking pieces. Next up are Daily Graph and Monthly Graph, which are exactly what they sound like. I’ll show examples from my 2017 spreadsheet (note, the daily graph will look very up and down–that’s OKAY! Again, let yourself have zero days…).
Daily Graph
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Monthly Graph
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Please note that the monthly graph has changed slightly. The pledged words are a line, but the actual words are now an area graph so you'll be able to see that fill in, and see your pledge as a line over it. That will give something good to look back on at the end of the year, but I don't have a new example yet!
There is a weird little blank tab for tracking AO3 stats, if you want to do so like I do. Feel free to modify as you need, based on your own person fandoms. I just carry data through from year to year so I can see how things change.
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The last two tabs are my favorite! The Annual Comparison tab becomes useful after you’ve been using the spreadsheet more than a year, because by keeping track of totals year to year, you can start to see what your writing tendencies are. This tab has changed this year!
In the main data, I have added a Range (difference between the current month and the average) and a Median. In both cases, it won't calculate (just like the average) until you're actually in that month. Prior calculations are against the prior year's data.
Just copy in your data from prior spreadsheets, then let the new column for this year calculate on its own. No work needed once you've put in the old data!
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Sample data included solely to be able to make it make sense. Just delete it from the sheet and put in your own instead!
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The chart has changed! The area chart is your average across all your data. The colored lines are all the years. The current year is in black, with markers, to make it really stand out. So you can see both how you are doing against your prior years and your typical average per month.
And the last tab helps you track your progress toward your pledges. This tab is why I created the spreadsheet in the first place. I did NaNo back in 2011 and realized that being able to see my progress helped keep me writing. I like visuals! It lets me see at a glance how I’m progressing toward my goal each month.
You don't need to fill in a thing on this sheet! It pulls in the pledge from where you set it on the Monthly Totals tab, and calculates your wordcount based on that sheet, and does everything for you. Just sit back and enjoy the charts. Red columns are the expected totals, and blue will be your actual progress. You can see whether you're ahead or behind (and DON'T WORRY if you're behind, it is OKAY).
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Yes, that’s my actual horrible progress December 2018. It was a rough month.
Anyway, that’s it! Hope you like it, and if you’ve used it before, thank you for coming back. Feel free to ask if you have any questions!
2022 Word Tracking Spreadsheet
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tumbledfreckles · 3 years ago
Note
Absolutely!
She should not be doing this. She knows she should not be doing this. She'd been warned against doing this.
But really, Quidditch practice ended half an hour ago. Surely he would have cleaned up by now. Right?
Hope this works! <33
This has not been edited, and it should have been edited, but screw it, I loved this prompt, I've stayed up way past bed time to write it, I wrote 1800 words instead of the 500 I planned, so have it in it's unedited glory and don't judge me too harshly. It's late, but its shirtless James Potter May or Jumpers off for June or really, just a thirst trap drabble to get your week going well.
Lily knocked softly on the door to the locker rooms, her breath caught in her throat, a thrum of anxiety running in her veins. When there was no sound, no answering call, no bid to enter, she paused for only moments, before biting her lip and pushing on the door handle.
She should not be doing this.
Her footsteps were quiet as she made her way down the long corridor that led to the locker rooms. Doors of the unoccupied rooms were shut, her finger tips dragged against the names of each team as she went. Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and then finally, at the very end, Gryffindor. Unlike the others, this door was set slightly jar, light seen through the gaps, but no sounds emerged. The team had clearly departed.
She knows she should not be doing this.
Lily gritted her teeth, taking a deep breath as she pushed open the door, wide enough for her to slip through. It closed gently after her, allowing her to lean back against it, hands still caught on the handle behind her. She clutched the handle for dear life, knowing she should turn it and go back through. Knowing that to go further into the room was a boundary she shouldn’t cross.
She’d be warned against doing this.
As expected, the locker room was at least empty. She’d never been in here before, not being on the team, and never before having anyone she’d wanted to follow into the abyss. The reality was as bad as Lily had imagined. Likely due to the graces and actions of the house elves, it was cleaner than expected. There were no used towels piling around, no dirty, soiled uniforms discarded. The walls were filled with posters and pictures of Gryffindor Quidditch teams throughout the years. Banners and scarves lined the players' open lockers, caught on the name plates fastened above each one.
Almost as soon as she noted the name plates, her eyes caught on one in particular. A name that had fallen from her lips more often than her own had this year. A name that used to come out with derision, but was now pronounced with warmth, with feeling, with an unexplainable but inexplicable feeling of joy. The locker below it was the least orderly of them all, clothing still hung on the hooks, shoes and boots underneath the bench seat in front of it. Shin guards and pads and flying goggles still littered the bench and shelf.
The captain himself was nowhere to be found however. The sound of running water drew her attention to another doorway, at the far end of the locker room. Steam poured out of that room, leaving Lily in doubt that it was the way to the showers. Somewhere she definitely shouldn’t be going. She could wait out here for him. She only wanted to check on him, close the loop on their earlier conversation. She felt guilty for leaving him hanging, but that was no reason to follow him into the showers, surely.
But, really, Quidditch practise ended half an hour ago. Surely, he would have cleaned up by now. Right?
With that solid, solid reasoning ringing in her brain, spurring her on despite a wealth of misgivings, Lily moved forward. Her heart was racing but her movements somehow remained slow, cautious.
“Potter?” she called at the doorway.
No answer came.
Lily shook her head, cheeks already turning red as she contemplated her next action seconds before completing it.
She was only two steps in when she pulled up short.
James stood under the shower, mere metres from where Lily herself stood. A low wall hid most of his lower anatomy, but his back was on full display. Water ran in rivulets over strong, broad, tanned shoulders. It drained off his elbows as James reached to scrub at his hair, a movement Lily had seen him do a million times across their seven years of schooling, but never when he was wet. Certainly not when he was otherwise naked. His back arched, showing the muscles down his spine, lifting the beginnings of the curve of his arse into view.
“Fuck,” Lily whispered, her mouth having gone completely dry.
Of course, while he hadn’t heard her earlier call, he heard her quiet swear. Or maybe he’d felt the weight of her entranced, intoxicated stare. Before Lily could remove herself from a situation she definitely shouldn’t be in, even if it was the most beautiful site she’d seen all day, all week, all year, James turned.
“Lil- Evans,” he said in surprise, jumping slightly, before shutting off the water and reaching for the towel resting on the edge of the wall. “What’s wrong?”
“Noth- shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -”Lily started, taking a step back, only she missed the doorway and landed against the wall next to instead.
It really wasn’t her fault she couldn’t focus.
If James’ back with a gift of meticulously carved marble, smooth skin and muscle that Lily just wanted to sink her teeth into, then his front was a bloody work of art. Well defined pectorals sat prominently, on his chest, surrounded by curved shoulders, impressive biceps that helped his brilliant throws on the field. Pools of water had collected in the curve of his collarbones, enough that Lily could have lapped happily to ease her suddenly restricted throat.
She’d seen glimpses of his abdominals before. He was always reaching for his hair, running a hand through the beautiful, silky locks, she couldn’t help but get flashes as his shirt, or t-shirt, or jumper lifted up. Especially when he was already stretching back across the couch, complaining about the Prefect’s schedule, the points schedule, or the meeting schedule. Any schedule really, just because he knew it would rile her up. So she’d seen his stomach from time to time. Knew his prowess on the Pitch couldn’t come from someone who wasn’t totally fit. But seeing it glistening, rippling as he moved, shadows from the dimmed bathroom lighting emphasising each curve, well…
It was really more than one girl could be expected to take.
“Evans,” James tried again, frowning as he finished wrapping a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower area toward her. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
Lily tried not to focus on how the twisted knot of the towel sat dead centre below his navel. How it drew the eyeline down. How the muscles in his sides pointed down like an arrow toward that knot, making her wonder what was underneath the knot.
“Uh,” Lily forced her eyes up. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you.”
She pretended not to notice how droplets collected on his eyelashes, so much easier to see without his glasses. How his face was devoid of its usual smirk, concern etched across his face instead, furrowing his brow, straightening his smile.
“Sure,” James glanced around, “I was coming back to the castle, you could have waited.”
“I couldn’t,” Lily blurted, before she could stop herself. “I couldn’t wait.”
James quirked an eyebrow, but paused in his steps, now less than three steps from her. At this distance, she could smell him. He was perfumed by that familiar scent of pine and spice, but in the heat and the humidity of the room it surrounded her, consumed her. She tried to take a deep breath in, to focus and prepare herself, but all it did was allow the scent to overwhelm her.
“Well, have at it, Evans,” he encouraged. “I’m listening.”
“Well, before, earlier.. You, uh… you asked, well and I, you, I didn’t,” Lily sighed impatiently at her stuttering, rolling her eyes before realising that meant she couldn’t look at him. Tried to remind herself not to look at him, it was clearly too much to look at such a sight and string a sentence together. Much more of her blithering and he wouldn’t care for what she had to say, mad woman that she was.
“Still waiting, Evans,” James teased now, a small curve of his lips appearing now. He seemed to be realising what had her in such a fluster, and took another step forward. Within reaching distance. Touching distance.
“Oh, fuck it,” Lily breathed, and gave in.
There was no resistance as she reached out and snagged James by the hand, then his waist, then his neck. She tugged his head down, and it came easily until, with a final push on her toes, she crashed her lips against his. His mouth moved without hesitation, giving as good as he got, pushing her back into the wall with a satisfying oof, his teeth finding her bottom lip, pulling it until her mouth opened and the punishing kiss turned into something deeper, sweeter, more satisfying.
Lily’s hands threaded into his hair, before dancing down to shoulders, stroking along his chest. She couldn’t pick a place she wanted them to rest, so she just didn’t, and touched and admired and petted to her heart’s content. James didn’t appear to mind her cheek was cupped, her waist wrapped up with one of those delicious arms she’d admired. He was still warm from the shower, still damp from neglecting to dry off, and she could feel that heat pushing through her clothes, flattening them against her, allowing his touch to burn through to her needy skin.
Without meaning too, having not consciously thought the action through, Lily’s hand landed on the knot in the towel she’d been so focused on moments earlier. The action gave them both reason to pause, and James pulled back just enough as they panted for breath and stared at each other.
She’d never seen his eyes so black, the hazel almost completely hidden dilated pupils and a blazing fire that would have taken her breath, if only his lips hadn’t done the job already. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Lily’s eyes followed the movement closely, her newly acquired knowledge of the feel, the taste of his tongue, making her imagine in a way that was all too real, how it would feel if he did the same to her.
“You had an answer for me, Evans?” his voice was hoarse, husky, like he’d run a marathon in the seconds, minutes, that they’d been kissing.
“I hardly think it matters now,” Lily’s laugh was almost bitter as it escaped from her, as she pushed back wet hair from his forehead, brushing her thumb softly across the scar above his eyebrow.
“Tell me anyway,” his fingers brushed down her arm, tipped her chin up, catching her lips again for a brief but perfect kiss.
Lily sighed, kissed him again to stall, cupped his face with both her hands to make sure he was paying attention. She was only going to say this once.
“Yes, I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you next weekend.”
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