#ok so I can’t draw anything for three hours but I can draw this???

[smilesrobotlover]

*sigh*

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈'𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆) ❞

❝ PROF. GETO IS SO HOT AND NOW HE’S A DEPARTMENT HEAD !! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part four of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: you and suguru enter a new phase in your relationship— long distance. the two of you work hard to keep your relationship alive and well — but what happens when distance and work starts to weigh on your time together?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, but also angst depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student, but age is vague, long distance relationship, phone sex, shower sex, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, yuta appears *gasp*, fanart found on pinterest (if anyone knows the og artist, pls let me know)

✧ wc: 14,288 | part one | part two | part three

“Baby,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “c’mon, you have to wake up, we can’t be late,” your boyfriend groans, pulling the covers over his head, and you giggle, gently tugging at the comforter held taut over his head.

“No,” he’s murmuring, as you roll your eyes, “a few more minutes,”

“A few minutes for you will turn into a few hours,” you chuckle, as your fingers finally find the inside of the comforter.

And you’re finally able to pull it off, Suguru’s long locks askew as his pretty obsidian eyes flutter half open, and your lips curl.

How did you get so lucky?

Your fingers run over his cheek, before you press a kiss to his forehead, “C’mon Mr. Department Head, you’re going to be late at this rate — you have to get the keys to your new apartment today and you have a meeting with the staff too,”

Suguru groans, his lips in a rare pout — mornings were truly his most vulnerable times, “Does it have to be today?” He draws close to you, burying his face in your neck, and your fingers slowly rake through his locks, gently easing the knots that formed in the night.

“Unfortunately yes,” you murmur, your fingers tucking a few locks behind his ear, “but I’ll be visiting you in two weeks, it will pass by quick,” it did feel like forever — but you knew it wouldn’t be. The summer would end one way or another and now he was leaving for Kyoto — officially three weeks before classes start, “and we’ll be spending the whole week together — we can explore a little more than we got to before,”

“I know,” he still is surely unconvinced, moving back to look up at you with certifiably the cutest purse of his lips, his warm hand finding your cheek, “but then why does every minute without you feel so much longer?”

Your lips find his in a lazy kiss, your hand sliding to the nape of his neck, his soft locks brushing against your knuckles, “But that will make the minutes we do spend together that much more special, right?”

He hums, pressing his forehead against yours, “how are you so positive about this?” And you sigh, your nose bumping against his, as you press a chaste kiss to his lips again.

“Because it’s the only way I can not completely break down,” you sigh, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you back into his embrace, your head resting on his chest, heart thudding nearly right under your ear, “what time do you have to leave?”

He glances at his phone, “not for another two hours,” and you curl up, fingers sliding against his smooth skin.

“Then a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt,” you murmur.

And you’d take any minute that you could get with him, especially now.

~~~

“Do you have everything?” Suguru never knew quite how much you could fuss over him, until the last few days. You seemed to obsess over every detail — his credentials, his electronics, his clothes — it’s as if you wanted everything squared away — and you simply couldn’t focus on anything else.

Because, you probably didn’t want to.

“I do, I have everything — I have things I didn’t need that you put in the car,” you pout as he chuckles, and he can’t help but lean in and kiss the pout from your lips, “I’ll be okay, I’ll call you as soon as I get there,” he murmurs, “can you pack yourself up and get in the car? Then I’ll really have everything I need,”

You blink rapidly, as if to ward off tears, as you can’t quite meet his gaze, “I wish I could,” you murmur, as your arms wrap around him, and his do the same, pulling you into a tight hug, “how am I going to survive the next two weeks without you?”

“It’s just two weeks right? Like you said it will pass by quick—“

You shake your head, “I just said that to make you feel better,” you look up at him, glassy eyed, “I changed my mind, stay here,” you whine, and he laughs, running his fingers through your hair.

“Think it’s a little late for that sweetheart,” he sighs, his fingers sliding under your chin, “after all, you packed up the rest of my things into my car, so unless I’m living out of it—“

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, as you rub your eyes, and he pulls your hands away gently, kissing your tears away, “I’ll miss you so much,”

“Not as much as me,” and you lean up to kiss him, a sweet kiss that only leaves him aching for more. Why was it the more he had of you — the more he always needed? He knew these first two weeks would be the hardest, but honestly, he’s not sure if it would ever get easier.

Because he needs you. Always.

“Ah wait,” you smile, reaching into your pocket, “you forgot one thing—” and you pull out a key, and he tilts his head, “it’s a key to my place,”

And he blinks, “You don’t—”

“I want to,” you kiss him again, even softer somehow, “please take it,” so he does, as you place the piece of metal into his palm, “plus, it’s practical, if I’m not around, you can let yourself in,”

“Make myself comfortable?” his lips quirk.

“Very comfortable,” you press your forehead to his again, “Go,” you murmur, you pull away reluctantly, his body already mourning the loss of your touch, your fingers still intertwined, “otherwise, I’ll just block your car with my body to get you to stay,”

He rolls his eyes, smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “I’d like to see that,” he presses his forehead to yours, “promise you’ll stop me from ever accepting a job that makes me be away from you for any amount of time again?”

“Now that’s a promise I’ll keep,” you squeeze his fingers one last time, “I think it’s what’s owed to us isn’t it?”

He knows he would never be able to repay what he owes you for everything you’ve done for him — how happy you’ve made him—

“It is,” he smiles, one last kiss to your lips, as he slips into the driver’s seat before he can change his mind.

—But he would try.

~~~

When you go back to your apartment — it feels far too empty. Even though Suguru didn’t live with you — it felt as if he had made a place for himself here, and he had, but he had left it. For now, you remind yourself. His place would be here for him, when he came back.

But it turned out two weeks was a lot of time to kill when you still hadn’t started classes — your days filled with nothing but time for you to spend. None of your friends from class had made it back yet either — so you were stuck trying to find things to do. Suguru was busier than expected — dragged to meeting after meeting and showed off more than a show dog to the department’s professors, alumni, and donors. Suguru often fell asleep on the phone with you, his soft snores filling your ears, as you fell asleep along with him.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if all semester would be like this — especially once his classes started. You understood — you did — this is what you signed up for and it was far from Suguru’s fault. But you couldn’t help but miss him. And that wasn’t surprising — but what was surprising was how much you missed him.

Your bed was bought for one, but now it felt empty with only you occupying it — a cold barren front without your usual refuge in his arms. And the days weren’t bad — you found things to keep you busy — but the evenings and weekends that you usually had spent with Suguru dragged like a child dragged their feet at the grocery store — reluctantly and without patience.

So maybe you needed to do the same that you’d do for a restless child — a distraction.

“Do you know of any organizations I could join?” You had asked Suguru on one of your video call dinner dates — and he hummed thoughtfully as he picked up soba noodles between his chopsticks, “I just feel like I need something to fill my time,”

“The semester hasn’t even started and you’re already thinking about other things to do?” He raises an eyebrow, and you suppress a giggle at the sight of a bit of the soup that remained on the side of his chin. The very same you wished that you could thumb away for him, “my favorite student is as ambitious as always,”

“Your girlfriend is even more so,” you roll your eyes, as you gesture to your own face to signal, and he wipes his, “c’mon, I know my favorite professor must have something to recommend. I know how he looooves to give me suggestions,”

And he snorts, setting his chopsticks down on his bowl as he finishes his meal, “Then I suggest you think about joining the student government — they have a specific section for graduate students and professors, it would be a good opportunity for you to branch out, and put the philosophy department’s brightest on the map,”

Your lips curl at the compliment, “you think I’m the brightest?”

“I was talking about myself,” and you roll your eyes, as he smirks at you, as he picks up his phone and his dishes to clean up, “I think it would be perfect. Why don’t you speak to Yaga about it? He was trying to goad me into recommending some students,”

“So this really is self-serving, huh?” the water of the sink runs in the background, as you do the same, placing your dishes in the sink — tomorrow’s problem — as you washed your hands, “what would I even know about student government anyway?”

“Philosophy has a lot to do with governance, you know that — Cicero, Plato, Aquinas, Machiavelli—“

“Saving the most benevolent philosopher for last,” and you can hear him chuckle, as the water squeaks shut, and he picks up his phone, a smile playing on his lips, “do you think I could help?”

“I think you can do anything, sweetheart, except get a 100% in my class,” and you gape at him, as he laughs, and your heart aches for that sound, more than you thought was possible, “you should do it, what’s stopping you?”

And you bite your lip — yes, you wanted to be busier, but you didn’t want to be too busy for this. To spend time with Suguru — no matter how little it was. But you knew it would be good for you — for both of you. The last thing you wanted was to be needy — even if this week was proving that you were needier than you thought you were.

“Nothing I guess,” you sigh, as you make your way to your bedroom, “I’ll email Professor Yaga in the morning,”

“Good,” Suguru is sat on his bed as well now, his phone propped up, “and your boyfriend has another suggestion,” and you raise an eyebrow, “I suggest my favorite student brings my favorite t-shirt with them when they come to visit me,”

You gasp in mock shock, “You gave this shirt to me,”

“No, I asked you where it was and you said you packed it already, but I see you pilfered it away when I wasn’t looking,” he tilts his head, “now take it off,”

“Professor, that’s not a proper way for a department head to speak to a student,” you still let the shirt ride up as you lean back against your pillows, “have you not gotten your ethics training yet about appropriate behavior?”

“That’s interesting, you didn’t seem to mind last night when you asked me to send you a very improper picture of my lower half fresh out of the shower,” and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips, but your expression grows more serious.

“So it’s all about quid pro quo, Professor?” you sigh exaggeratedly, before pulling the shirt off, “I’ll take it off, but how about if you let me keep it, I’ll give you something else?”

God, you know that look in his eye, and you just wished he could do what he wanted — his fingers would find your waist and your back, pulling you quick and eager into his lap — his hard-on pressing through the thin material of his sweatpants he wore around the apartment.

“And what would that be?” And the shirt finally up and over, a soft gasp leaving his lips at the sight of your bare body, only your shorts left on. You smile.

“Me, of course,” and he’s adjusting his phone, face up, a small groan leaving his lips, “sir?”

“Is that all you’re offering, sweetheart?” and you hear the slight shuffle of fabric, “because that shirt is quite special to me,”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugs at your lips as you see him come back into focus with his phone in hand, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your chest and back, “Is it?”

“If you remove your clothes, I’ll forgive this small transgression,” and his other hand is out of sight, no doubt stroking himself, though you were no better, fingers toying with your cunt through your drenched panties.

“I think that price might be too high, Professor— you might have to give me something in return,” you smile, toying with the elastic of your shorts, and he bites his lip, gaze heavy even through the screen of your phone.

“And what do you want, princess?”

“I thought it was obvious,” as you slip off your shorts, propping up your phone on the pillow designated usually for him, nothing else underneath, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he’s hissing, as you can hear the distinct sound of the squelch of his hand running up and down his cock, “sweetheart, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

And your fingers are teasing your wet folds, imagining it was his own, his thick fingers sinking into one by one, he’d fill you so much better than you do — “show me, Suguru,” He does, flipping the camera to show his erection — flushed red and pretty — beads of pre-cum dripping from the tip, “all this just for me?” And your fingers push past your entrance, a gasp leaving your lips, “my fingers aren’t enough for me, Sugu—“

“show me now, let me tell you how to fuck yourself,” and you’re nodding, hand shaking as you flip the camera around to show your fingers notched inside, gleaming with your pre, dripping down your knuckles, “move,” and you do, slowly at first, and his hand moves too, starting to fuck his fist, “faster, curl your fingers just like I would,” and you do, a whine leaving your lips, “good girl,” he grunts.

The sounds of both of your pants and moans fill your ears, your eyes fluttering open to watch him touch himself, “Tease the tip for me, baby,” you murmur, fucking yourself deeper, when you see him thumb his slit, “wish I could taste you, suck you off, until you’re cumming down my—“

“Princess—“ you know he’s close by the way his dick twitches in his fingers and the way his lips moan your name, “add another finger,” and you do — fuck, the stretch is nothing like his cock, but you can almost imagine it is, “I’m sure you’ve gotten tight without me to fuck you — have you been touching yourself when I’m not around?” You bite your lip, your hesitation was all the answer he needed, “what do you think about?”

“Think about you,” you’re fucking close too, your fingers drenched in your own precum, “think about you coming back, about you kissing me at the door before pinning me against it,” And he’s groaning, the sounds of his hand pumping his cock ringing in your ears, you can’t hang on— “Suguru—please—“

“Be a good girl, and cum for me, sweetheart,” and you do, your toes curling and eyes squeezing shut as you do, phone slipping from your fingers, as you hear him groan too, the distinct sound of his cum splattering against his sheets.

You both come down from your highs, pulling your fingers from your cunt, grabbing tissues from your bedside table to wipe off your hands.

“Sugu?” You pick up your phone, and your boyfriend does the same, his cheeks flushed a gorgeous red, slightly more rumpled than before. And you can’t help but wish you could lean over and kiss him as you would, running your fingers through his hair, “I miss you,”

He sighs, gaze filled with affection and longing, “I miss you too, so much — you have no idea, princess,” as you tug his shirt back on, and you lie back, turning on your side, “just one more week,”

“I’m counting the days,” you murmur

“I’m counting the seconds,” and you snort, his lips curled in the damned smile that dragged you into his mess.

“Always have to one up me don’t you?” you bury your nose in the fabric of the shirt, the scent still very distinctly him.

“It is my job after all,” and you smile, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” but you know where this is going — as it always did almost every weekday night.

“I should hang up — I have to clean up and—“

“Review for meetings before bed, I know,” you finish and he raises an eyebrow, “very predictable, Professor Geto,”

“I’ll work on that — watch, I’ll surprise you,” and you chuckle, but you can’t help but frown, “what is it?” and you shake your head, “sweetheart,” and you know he won’t let it go.

“Just call me after you’re done, before bed, okay?” you sit up, glancing at your shorts on the floor, shifting uncomfortably with the wetness between your thighs, “I have to change my shorts and my sheets,”

“You’re welcome,” and you roll your eyes, his lips curled in a small smile reserved just for you, “love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” the call ends, and you’re left looking at your lock screen, a sigh caught in your throat.

Just one more week.

~~~

You stood before the door of one of the university's conference rooms — on one of the floors you did not tend to frequent. You spent most of your time in the classrooms if not the library — but you had attended a few meetings up here for one reason or another. But this was the first time you were walking into a room in quite a long time that you didn’t know anyone.

The student government met once before the semester started — a getting to know you forum for new members, such as yourself. There was no real formal election process for your position as senator — as long as other students were not vying for the position. And luckily for you, no other philosophy graduate student had chosen to volunteer for this entirely optional and unpaid position — a mystery really.

But the nerves still remained — though there was nothing more to do than enter. So you did — opening the door and finding the room filled with quite a few faces, but none of them familiar. You took a seat in a relatively empty section, but adjacent to enough faces, an empty seat on either side of you. The people around you chatted, while you pulled a notebook and pen out — your phone face down on the table, before you grab it and shoot Suguru a quick text.

You: in my first student government meeting! wish me luck!!

The meeting started without much formalities — a simple round table introduction that had you close to going last, but you had a chance to learn more about the other graduate students — most of them were students representing different departments, as you were, while there was also the traditional roles of president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer.

Eyes slid to you now, the president gesturing to you, her name escaping you, “And our newest member,”

They finally turned to you as you waved to the group, introducing yourself by name, “I’m a graduate student in the philosophy department, I’m a third year in the program, and I heard about the group from my department head—”

“Professor Geto?” one of the girls piped up, a literature graduate student who you didn’t recognize, but you were sure had taken Suguru’s class or at least had heard about him.

You shook your head, forcing a polite smile on your lips, “Professor Yaga actually told me about it,” she nods, and the president claps her hands together.

“Alright, this meeting is just to mingle and get to know each other, so please enjoy the refreshments and food provided,” and her eyes flicker down, “I think we’re only missing one person from the group—”

And the door bursts open, “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to run late—” a student with dark black hair that rested past his chin, bangs that framed his face on either side, and a small smile on his lips.

“Students keep you again, Yuta?” the president asks, and the dark haired boy known as Yuta slipped into the room, and took a seat beside you, sighing with a nod, as he set down his things, “good timing, you can help our newest member get acclimated,”

His eyes flicker to you, a smile pulling at his lips, “I’d be happy to,” and the group begins to get up to grab food and refreshments, as Yuta offers you his hand, “I’m Yuta Okkotsu, it’s nice to meet you.”

~~~~

“I hope you stay a part of the organization,” your eyes snap up at Yuta’s words — a curious look on his face, “you just seemed a little overwhelmed in there,” he tilts his head, as the two of you walk towards the metro station, “I may be wrong, but—”

“No I was,” for someone who looked so…innocent, he was really observant — his dark eyes felt like they could pierce right through you — even if he wouldn’t let them do so, “it was a lot — I’ve never been a part of a formal structure like this so it was just a lot—”

“It’s not as formal as you think — the proceedings do drag on but Maki, the president, tends to skip the formalities for the most part — she’s as bored of them as you are,” he chuckles, his fingers adjusting the strap of his backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, “usually the meetings don’t take very long — the events mostly take up our time when it comes to planning and organizing, but we hold a couple in conjunction with other organizations so that helps take the load off,” he explains, “we also organize issues important to the students to present to the president of the university quarterly, so we tend to have more meetings around that time, but we schedule the meetings after midterms, and after finals, so it doesn’t interfere with studying,” and then he catches himself, rubbing the back of his neck, “sorry, I’m going on and on, I should have just asked you if you had questions instead,”

“No, it was really helpful, Yuta,” you smile, “you’re very thorough,” and you don’t notice how a faint flush appears across his cheeks.

“I was new last year to the organization, and I remember being really overwhelmed — the professor I usually T.A. for roped me into it, he’s been away on research for the last year or so, but I stayed apart of it, because,” he shrugged, a smile on his lips, “I made some really good friends, and I hope you do too,”

You pull out your phone, no reply from Suguru, a small sigh on your lips — it’s fine, he’s busy, “Good friends are exactly what I need right now I think,” you check the time — Suguru wouldn’t be out of meetings for dinner at this rate, “do you want to grab dinner? I know a good ramen spot not far from here,”

“Sounds great,” and you led the way, not noticing the way Yuta’s eyes lingered on you a second too long, before he started to follow you, keeping pace beside you.

A week would pass by quick.

~~~

“What time will you be here?” Suguru asked, as you had him on your laptop this time on video call to watch you pack for the couple days you were spending with him before the semester started.

“I’m taking the 8:00 AM train, so I’ll get there probably by 10:15, so like two hours,” you weren’t sure how much to pack — you didn’t want to do a ton of laundry right before classes started, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to wear, “can you come here pack for me and go back?”

He snorts, “I’ll be right over, but at that point, wouldn’t it be more conducive for me to just stay with you?”

“But I want to come see you,” you pout, and he shrugs, as his eyes flicker up from his work.

“Then you’re going have to pack,” and you give a heavy sigh, continuing to choose what clothes to take. Your phone goes off and it’s a text from Yuta;

Yuta: hey! are you free next week to get dinner after the meeting? But this time I’m choosing the restaurant :)

You pick up your phone and text back: if it’s that chapati place you mentioned, I’m down — otherwise, you’ll have to deal with my severe disappointment

Yuta: I’ll have to leave you in suspense then

You snort, tossing your phone down, as your eyes go back to the screen to find Suguru smiling at you, “What?”

“Just enjoying the view,” and your cheeks burn, as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up,” you mumble, rolling up a shirt in a hurry in a manner that definitely doesn’t qualify as folding, “what view? Me in an oversized t-shirt and shorts?”

“Exactly, with that pretty smile on your lips? Best thing on anytime,” he replies, and you bite back that same smile he complimented — but it’s the one reserved for him.

“You dork,” you mutter, “don’t say cute things or I’ll take the last train tonight to see you sooner,”

“I’d never make you do that so I’ll stop, for now,” he sighs, resting his cheek on his palm, his gaze growing a little more heady, “but tomorrow? I’ll be sure to tell you every single thing I love about you,”

And your lips curl, as you sigh, “I love you, but you should get some rest and I should finish packing and do the same,”

He gives a small smile, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll see you tomorrow, pretty girl,”

“I’ll be the one running into your arms,”

“Undoubtedly very late,”

“What was that? The sound of me missing my train tomorrow?” And he laughs, as you cross your arms, head held far too high, “that’s right. I’m holding myself hostage,”

“Well if you’re both hostage and hostage negotiator, tell both of you that I’ll bring you your favorite drink and buy you the breakfast of your choice,” and you peek at him, “coming around?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, you better have the ransom ready,” you let a smile escape your lips, “I love you,”

“I love you too, I’ll see you tomorrow,” and he hangs up after, and you sigh — tomorrow, finally.

You’ll see him again — you just hoped these few days didn’t pass by quickly.

~~~

Suguru waited at the station for you, your preferred hot beverage in hand, along with your requested pastry, both in hand as he waited. He opted to have his hair up in a bun due to the weather, a slight wind that carried the warning of fall in the crisp air that morning. But not whenever a snowstorm could have kept him from you that morning — it had been far too many days and nights spent without you by his side while spending them instead in stuffy rooms filled with colleagues and donors.

But now — and he sees people pour from the platform, a throng of harried travelers looking to get to their next destination, and among them all, he spots you — with the red suitcase you insisted made it easier to find amongst the others (it didn’t).

And he’s approaching you, slipping past others, and your eyes find his, your lips in a grin at the sight of him, as you find your way into his arms in a moment — suitcase clattering to the floor probably to the other travelers’ dismay. But he grabbed the handle and turned it upright in a moment, before his arm curled back around you.

“Hi,” you whisper, and he could have stood there forever — it had felt like forever since he had held you. His palm cupped your cheek, a thumb brushing back and forth against the length of it.

“You always know how to make an entrance sweetheart,” he murmurs, forehead pressed to yours, as your fingers intertwine slowly but surely — as if they hadn’t parted, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

“Uh-huh, don’t act like I forgot about the ransom I’m owed,” and he’s rolling his eyes, as he takes your luggage, wrapping an arm around you, “where is it?”

“In the car, how about we stop by my apartment, drop off your things, rest for a bit and then we can grab breakfast, as promised?” You smile, leaning into his side, wrapping your arms around his middle. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“As long as it’s with you.”

~~~

“You made breakfast for me?” you gasp, as he had set the table with all the breakfast staples — “i thought we were going to ‘grab breakfast?’”

Suguru wipes his hands, as he brings over two pairs of clean chopsticks and sits beside you, “Well I thought you might be tired from the train ride so I thought we could have breakfast in and relax before going out before lunch,”

You take the chopsticks from him, fingers brushing as you do, leaning into his side, “It’s not fair being this perfect,” you murmur, your head against his shoulder, nose brushing against the soft fabric of his t-shirt and his skin, “when are you going to show me your flaws?”

“I think I’ve shown plenty of those the last few months with how things have went before we even began dating,” his lips brush against your forehead, “now I just want to treasure you — as much as I can,”

“Me too,” you lean up and meet his lips in a soft kiss that steals the logic from your head and the air from your lungs — and only leaves his touch behind, “Suguru…” and you want to admit to him how hard it’s been without him, how much harder it's been than what you expected — and how you worried about how hard would it get during the semester, when you both were busy? “I really missed you,” you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and you speak before he can get even a syllable out, “but I’m so glad we’re together now,”

He didn’t need to know — he would only feel bad. You could handle it—

“Me too,” his gaze is soft, as he pulls back to find your lips in another achingly gentle kiss.

For him.

~~~~

“This weekend is supposed to be for you, why are you shopping for me?” Suguru says yet again as you peruse another homegoods store, looking for something to decorate what you claimed were the “barren landscape” of his apartment, “we should do something you want to,”

“This is something I want to do,” as you inspect a globe with the same scrutiny you’d apply to a Aristotelian text — brow furrowed in thought as if this knick knack would give you some unintelligible insight on metaphysics (it did not), “you’re going to be living there for a while, I want you to have an apartment that doesn’t look like a serial killer resides there,”

“Why does it look like that?”

“Because it doesn’t look lived in,” you pick up a set of matching bookends, “these things make your house look lived in and feel welcoming,” and then you put the bookends down thoughtfully, “although we should start with more basic things, like frames and a full length mirror,”

“Well if I look like a serial killer, you don’t have to worry about anyone who comes over, because they will think I’m a murderer and feel very unwelcome,” and you laugh, intertwining your fingers with him, “I don’t care about other people — I care about you, so will this make you happy?”

You nod, “Because I want you to feel happy here, and that will make me happy,”

And he wants to say the only thing that would make him really happy would be if you lived here with him — to wake up beside you each morning, to come home to you each evening, and fall asleep beside you — but he couldn’t say that. It would almost be cruel to say something that wasn’t possible right now. But it would be — it would be possible.

“Okay, let’s find some things,” his arm curls around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “but remember, you do love this serial killer,”

“That’s only because I’m far too wonderful to murder,” and he rolls his eyes, as the two of you continue to shop, and he watches you continue to pick up and examine things — and he can’t help but wonder if this is what it would be like when you both shop for your place together. And he bites back a smile.

Only a few more months — and you could be together. It wasn’t forever.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

~~~~

“You said no work while I was here,” you were doing your best pout if only to change his mind, but he was unrelenting, his shoulders slumped in resignation, and his lips in a purse at his desk in his bedroom, “Suguruuuuu,” you’re officially whining, and you know it’s not his fault, but you have such little time with him, you don’t want a minute to be wasted.

“I know, sweetheart, but Yaga wants to speak about the semester starting, and I didn’t have much of a choice—” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck, lips pressing kisses to the hollow of his throat, “princess—” he groans.

“I want to get in my cuddles before,” and your teeth graze the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he sucks in air between his teeth, “how long is your meeting?”

“About half an hour,” and you hum, kissing his lips, languid and slow, your fingers threading his lengthy tresses, “it’s about to start—” and you’re kneeling down in front of his chair, as the video call starts to go off, as you look up at him between his knees, “sweetheart—” he’s hissing, wide eyes, as you undo his belt and the zipper of his pants.

“Then let’s not waste any time,” you grin, toying with the waistband of his boxers, “pick up the call.”

And you thought he would kick you out from underneath, nudging you away, and you would relent if he really didn’t want this — but he doesn’t. He swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing as he picks up the call, placing his earbuds in his ear.

“Hi Professor Yaga,” Suguru says, and you’re almost surprised how normal he sounds with you between his legs, but Yaga can’t see the way his muscles tense when your fingers spring his already half hard cock free, “Yes, we do have a couple things to cover. No, I don’t mind starting,”

Well if he insists, you’d start too.

Your fingers slowly stroke him to fully erect, pre-cum dripping over your fingers as you do, your eyes flickering up to see his expression still perfectly normally, the only telltale sign being the way his fingers white knuckled the armrest just out of sight. His cock was so unfairly pretty — a deep red at the tip with a slight curve that had your thighs pressing together at the thought of it sinking into you. Your lips press a kiss to the tip and he wavers mid sentence, as you smirk against his cock, as your mouth parts to suck him off.

And it seems like Yaga is the one speaking now, as he seemingly mutes himself, resting his chin against his hand, covering his mouth with his fingers, “Fuck, sweetheart,” he swears under his breath, as your tongue traces along one of his veins, sucking at the tip, as your fingers drift to toy with his balls.

The tip of your tongue flicks against his weeping slit, bobbing your head along the length, as a hand of his drifts down to thread in your locks, nails digging into your scalp.

“S-sorry, what was that?” he seemingly unmuted himself at a question, and you’re sucking even harder, nose brushing against his pubes as his tip brushes against your throat, “N-no, I’m fine, sorry, I’m not feeling well,”

You suck one more time, and he’s gone, as he barely can mutes himself and turns off his camera, groaning, as he spills down your throat, as you swallow it, his head thrown back against the headrest of his chair. And he’s panting, as he looks down at you, half lidded and lost in pleasure, gaze darkening as he watches you pull away, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his softening cock, as you adjust his boxers and clothes.

“What happened to Yaga?” and his glance tells you he certainly does not care — chest heaving, as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Disconnected after I went silent — I’ll tell him my internet went out,” and you’re slowly rising out from between his legs, and his fingers find your waist, tugging you close, “you really are a bad influence,” and his lips find yours, your fingers cupping his cheek.

“I told you I didn’t want to waste time,” you grin, and in one smooth motion, he’s dragging you into his bed, giggling leaving your lips as he showers you with kisses, “Suguru!” you yelp as you fall backwards into his plush bed, and he’s tugging off your shorts and panties with ease, folding your legs up, one of them brushing against his shoulder, as he kisses your inner thigh, a smile against your heated skin.

“My turn.”

~~~~

“How did this week go so quickly?” you sigh, burying your face in his chest on Friday night, knowing you have to get on a train tomorrow morning, “it’s not fair, it’s not enough time,” you murmur, tracing circles on his skin, “and now I don’t get to see you for a month,”

“I know, I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “but it will pass by quick — you’ll be busy with classes and I’ll be busy with work — it won’t be as bad as we think,” And you don’t want to admit your fears to him — it would make it all too real, as if they would emerge from the syllables your lips spoke into a new reality before you — and you couldn’t take that risk, no matter how illogical it was.

“I know, I just can’t imagine spending this much time apart,” you glance at him, “don’t know what I did without you before, I don’t even remember what I spent my time doing,”

“Revising the essays I made you write?” and you pinch his cheek, and he’s laughing, “sorry, couldn’t resist making that joke,”

“Yeah, I recall you couldn’t resist me either,” and his fingers drag lazily over your cheek, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“Well, who really could resist you?” he sighs, content seemingly in just the act of touching you, “I tried and failed — and I am a master at resisting temptation,”

“A paragon of morality truly,” and he snorts, as you kiss his neck sweetly, ghosting over the places you had left marks, “though there was definitely nothing moral about what we just did,”

Your lips find his again, a lazy kiss that grows slowly with more heat the more your lips meet again and again and again — until he’s parting, “It’s just a month,” he says as if he can sense your anxiety, “I’ll come see you, I promise,”

“So if you don’t come, I can summon Immanuel Kant to scold you for not fulfilling your promise?” and he laughs.

“A scolding from you would be far more effective, but Kant is able to come if he can make it — death’s a worse commute than to Tokyo,”

“Who says?” you mumble, pressing your forehead to his, “you’ll take me to the station?”

“Of course,” and you have only one request.

“Don’t come inside ok?” his brow furrows, but you softly smooth it with the back of your knuckles, “Otherwise, I’ll end up crying — and I rather not subject you or the passengers near me to that,” and he chuckles, a frown still on his lips.

“Are you sure?”

It wasn’t just the crying — you knew if he walked you to your train, you’d want to make him come with you or let yourself stay — and you couldn’t do that, not to either of you. This was temporary — it wouldn’t be forever—

“I’m sure.” you kiss his lips again, rolling over so you were on top, your bodies brushing against each other with the familiar heat you’d miss when you were back home again.

—so why did it feel like forever?

~~~

“You promised me a better meal and this place nearly burned my taste buds off,” you grumble, as the two of you stand outside the restaurant, rain pounding against the awning as it starts to come down, the spicy food from the chapati place doing little to keep you warm now against the frigid wind of the autumn carrying the promise of being drenched with it.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Yuta chuckles, holding a hand out for the rain, “now at least the spice will help on the way home,”

“The only good thing about this place is that it's close to my apartment. I have a ton of work to do already — and it’s only the first week of classes,” you sigh, pulling out your umbrella, and glancing at him, hands still empty and unmoving. You hold up your umbrella, waving it, “Did you not bring one?” as you pull out your phone to check the weather reports.

“I didn’t know there was rain in the report for today,” he sighs, waving you off, “go ahead, I’ll wait for it to let up or find a convenience store nearby— I just need to make it back to the station—”

“Trains are down because of the storm,” you raise an eyebrow, as you glance at him, “come on, you can stay at my place,”

He’s shaking his head, holding his hands up, “No, I don’t want to—”

You tilt your head, glancing around at the clearing street and the distant rumble of thunder, “So are you going to camp out here outside this restaurant for the night or?” and he’s chewing his lip, as you chuckle, “it’s not far, we can share the umbrella, and hopefully we won’t get completely soaked,”

“Well, we’re not completely soaked,” you close the door behind you both, dripping water onto your floor, as you sigh, “hold on I’ll grab towels,” and you do, coming back quickly so you both can dry off.

And you notice the damage done to his clothes are far worse than yours, completely soaked through, the towel doing little to help aside from stopping the water from forming a larger puddle near your entryway.

“You held the umbrella mostly to my side, didn’t you?” And he pauses, his hesitation the answer you needed, as you sigh — “you’re more of a martyr than you need to be,”

“Well, I want to help my friends,” he gives a small smile.

“Even at the detriment of yourself?” And he shrugs.

“I can handle it,” and you shake your head, as you head to your closet pull out a fresh towel and clothes — but not your own.

“Go change,” and he glances at the clothes, hesitates, but takes them, as he frowns, “it’s fine, Yuta, go shower and change,” you show him where the bathroom is, and how to turn on the water.

You head to your bedroom to change and dry off, grabbing a fresh t-shirt and shorts — chewing on your lips — you had to give Yuta some of Suguru’s clothes you had stolen — your clothes wouldn’t exactly fit him properly. But you pouted, now you couldn’t sleep in Suguru’s shirt tonight, and you sighed, it was just as well — you had to wash the shirt so now it didn’t smell like him now.

You come out into the living room, hopping onto your couch and flipping on the TV, looking for something to watch. And then you hear the bathroom door, glancing behind you, “Done?”

“Yeah, thank you again for this,” he shifts in place, steam escaping from the bathroom behind him, his bangs still a little damp and cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink along his cheekbones, “what are you doing?”

“Just looking for something to watch,” and he comes over, sitting on the other side of the couch, “do you have any preference?”

He shakes his head, “No, not really,” and you choose a random movie to put on, a cheesy rom-com that had just come out on a streaming service, “is that what you like to watch?”

You shrug, running your fingers through your hair, “I like watching bad movies — it’s something I do usually while I do my work — the genius is, I don’t have to pay attention to follow the storyline,” and your eyes still on the TV, you don’t notice how his eyes linger on your face, a smile pulling on his lips, “now look at this, it’s the classic ‘guy likes girl, but girl is too dense to notice,” you shake your head, “does that even happen in real life?”

And Yuta parts his lips to reply when your phone rings, and you grab your phone — a video call — Suguru’s name flashing on your screen, and you can’t bite back the smile on your lips, “Hold on, I have to take this — just make yourself comfortable, I’ll be in the bedroom,”

You head into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you, as you pick up the call, “Hey stranger,” you smile as his face comes into view, glasses perched on his nose, as he grins back at you, “I miss you,”

“I miss you too,” he rests his face against his hand, “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk much — there have been a lot of issues popping up because its the first week — a lot of department requests from professors and students alike,”

“Mr. Bigshot Department Head has forgotten about his girlfriend, huh?” you mock pout, and he shakes his head, a longing gaze that makes your breath stutter in your chest.

“I could never forget you — how can I when all I dream about is you?” and you bite your lip, cheeks burning, “did I make you smile?”

“Shut up,” and he laughs, and then you hear a noise from the living room, a clatter that catches your attention.

“What was that?”

You wave him off, “It was just my friend, he’s staying over because of the rain — he’s in the living room,”

And he pauses for a moment, expression unreadable, “Which friend?”

“His name is Yuta — I met him during my first student government meeting — he’s kind of showing me the ropes,” and he nods, his silence palpable, gaze downwards and then it dawns on you, “Are you jealous?”

And his eyes flicker up, “Sweetheart—”

“Oh my god you are, that’s so cute,” you smile, as you delight in the slight dusting of pink that settles over his cheeks — he’s far too pretty for his own good, and your voice softens, “you have nothing to worry about, Suguru — I love you, no one else can even compete,”

He sighs, and you wish you could kiss him, “I know, I know — I’m just,” his brow furrows, his lips stuck in a frown, “I just miss you,”

“Then come over,” you tease, and he gives a small smile.

“You have company,” he reminds you, and you sigh, glancing at the door, “you should go back,”

“I’ll work on inventing an instant teleportation device,” a forced laugh leaves his lips, “Suguru, are you sure—”

He shakes his head, “I’m fine, really, just call me before bed if you have time okay?”

“Yeah of course, I love you,” a genuine smile gracing his lips.

“I love you too,” and you hang up, heading back out to find Yuta watching TV, “sorry about that,”

“It’s fine, is everything okay?” he glances at you, tilting his head, “nothing wrong?”

You shake your head, sitting down beside him, grabbing a cushion to place in your arms, “It was just my boyfriend — he usually calls me around this time,”

Yuta gives a slight nod, “Oh, is he away this weekend?”

“No, we’re long distance — he lives in Kyoto,” you explain, sighing, leaning back on the couch, “that’s why I took the call, otherwise, I would have called whoever back,”

“You don’t have to do that — you should be allowed to do whatever you need to. It’s your home,” and you smile, shaking your head before you toss the pillow at him, “w-what?”

“You’re important too, Yuta — you’re my friend and a guest — I’m not going to just leave you out here by yourself without saying anything,” you hold your hand out, “can I have the remote?” And he passes it to you, fingers brushing, as you flip through more movies and TV, “are you tired at all?”

His gaze stays straight ahead, as he shakes his head, “No, not yet,” and you’re choosing a movie to watch, his fingers clasped over each other — the warmth of your touch still lingering.

And you had no idea that his heart was aching at the thought of you being taken — much like the very someone who had taken you.

~~~

“I understand, Suguru, really I do,” and you did — you always did — but this time, it was a little hard to swallow.

It had been weeks since the two of you had seen each other, not over a screen. It was already a month and half into the new semester — and each time he was supposed to visit you, something or another came up — a faculty event, a staff meeting, grading to do, and god knows what else.

And you could bear it the other times — it wasn’t his fault. He had work to do. He had things he had to take care of with little choice in the matter. And you couldn’t always come to Kyoto either — not with your program in full gear and events for the student government around the corner.

No it wasn’t his fault — but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt — especially with what he was missing.

“I really tried to get time off — and I probably still can make it, but I might run late—“ Suguru’s sighing on the phone, and you know his brow is knit together — mind desperately trying to grasp at a solution, as if he thought hard enough one would emerge that he hadn’t considered.

Your footsteps pause, as you bite back your own sigh, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s okay, really — we can celebrate my birthday the next time—“

“It’s not okay, sweetheart,” he cuts you off, “I’m really going to try to make it. I’ll get my work done, or put it off—“

“I don’t want you jeopardizing work—“

“I’ll be fine, Princess — I want to be with you,” he says so softly that your refusals all but melt, “really, I do,”

You bite your lip, as you continue to make your way, weaving between the students herding towards their next classes, “Okay I just don’t want you stressing out or worrying—“

“I’ll be fine, just, make any plans you want to, okay? I don’t know what time I’ll get there on Saturday, but I’ll be there, okay?”

“You really don’t—“ you’re outside the room for your meeting, leaning against the wall.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, and your lips curl, fully submitting to his whims.

“You really don’t — know what time you’re getting here?” You nailed that — apparently not by his chuckle over the line, as you hear the tapping of his laptop as he checks train times.

He pauses, a rustling of papers, and a sigh, “I’m not sure, but once I’m on my way, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay, that’s fine,” you give a half hearted smile despite the fact no one would see it, “I’m outside my student government meeting, but I’ll talk to you tonight?”

“Of course, good luck with your meeting, and I’ll call you around 8:00 PM?” And the two of you hang up and you’re left with disappointment hanging mid air — like a mystery waiting to be solved, wondering if you’ll be satisfied or saddened.

“What’s wrong?” your gaze snaps up to find Yuta, who offers a small smile, “are you disappointed that our meeting never starts on time? Because you should give up on that now,” you roll your eyes, as he holds the door open for you, and you step past him.

“It’s nothing,” you set your things down, sitting, as he takes his own seat beside you.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Yuta tilts his head, leaning on his arm, a hint of concern across his features in his slightly furrowed brow and pursed lips, “you don’t have to talk about it — but if you want to, I’m here,”

You lean back in your chair, “It’s just my boyfriend — he’s been really busy with work so we haven’t been able to see each other, and now…” your gaze fixes itself to the table in front of you, taking in the faint scratches on the laminate wood, a sigh caught in the back of your throat, “he’s not sure if he’ll make it this weekend for my birthday, he said he would try his best,” and you shake your head, “and I know it’s a little…childish, but—”

“It’s not childish,” he gently cuts you off, “it’s understandable to want to spend your birthday with the person you love,” he leans forward to meet your eyes, “how about this? We can hang out on your birthday until your boyfriend comes down, because I’m sure he will,”

“How do you know?” and other people begin to file into the room, as he offers you a small smile.

“Who would ever keep you waiting?”

~~~~

“You don’t usually call at this time,” you yawn, rolling over in bed, as you hear Suguru rustle on the other end too — it was already late and you had already buried yourself under your comforter, scrolling on your phone before bed (even though you knew very well that you shouldn’t).

“Sorry did I wake you, sweetheart?” and you hum.

“What do I get if you did?” he laughs, his voice making your heart flutter in two seconds flat, “my sleep comes at a very high price, Professor,”

“Oh I know, I’ve paid that price several times, and you have willingly given it to me as well,” your lips curling, you knew he was lying on his back as he always did before bed, arm under his head as he looked up at his ceiling, “what’s the price this time?”

“Video call me,” and he does in an instant, his face popping up on your screen, lips quirked upwards at the sight of your face, glasses perched on his nose.

“Such an easy price this time,” and you yawn, turning over in bed onto your side, hiding your pout in your pillow — god, you wished he was beside you right now.

“The late hour’s making me soft,” you say, a strand of black falling in front of his face, and you only wish you could reach over and run your fingers through his silky strands, “did you need something?”

“I need someone,” and you snort.

“Well, you have me, congratulations,” you turn over onto your back, “now what do you plan to do with me?”

He smiles that same smile that had stolen your heart from the start, “Treasure you? Kiss you? Love you?” and your lips curl again, “apparently get a poodle and a dozen cats with you,”

“That’s a guarantee,” and he smiles.

“If it will make you happy, then yes it is,” you purse your lips, “what?”

“What’s gotten into you?” And his eyes seem to flicker elsewhere for a moment, “Suguru?”

His lips form a full smile, “Happy birthday, princess,” and you blink, glancing at the clock and realizing it was midnight now, “each and every day with you in my life has been the happiest I have ever been and ever hoped to be. I spent my life searching for the meaning of life — but I didn’t find it, until I met you,” his voice is soft as tears burn at the corner of your eyes, “I don’t know what it is that I’m owed — but I don’t know what I did to deserve you,”

“I love you,” you whisper, “I wish I could hold you,” your fingers caress the screen, as if your touch could teach through it, and he presses a kiss to his hand.

“I love you too — and I promise I’ll hold you soon,” he lays back on his bed, “you’ll be sick of me soon enough,”

“Never,” you settle onto your pillow, “will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?”

He only smiles, “Anything for you.”

~~~

Anything but being able to be here by lunch or dinner at this rate. You checked your phone — only to find his last message — “I’m almost done. I’ll let you know when I leave for the station,”

But it had been over two hours and there had been no update — even after you had texted him twice to ask where he was. You were caught between worry and disappointment — anxiety pricking at your skin, enough to annoy but not enough to pierce through to full panic. And disappointment felt like a weight that hovered above your heart, close enough to feel, but not enough to hit yet.

You didn’t want to feel this. It wasn’t his fault. You knew that he was trying — and you didn’t resent him in the least for it. But that didn’t mean you wanted him here any less — especially after it had been almost two months without seeing each other.

And a knock at your door made your eyes snap over, as you tripped over yourself to get to the door, “Who is it?”

“It’s me—“ but it wasn’t Suguru — it was Yuta. And you opened the door, a small smile on your lips, as Yuta stood in a black sweater tucked into dark gray jeans, and a deep maroon jacket pulled over it, “happy birthday,”

“Oh, thanks—“ and you blink, “oh my god, we had plans I’m sorry — I forgot,” you groan, and he leans sideways to take a look at your apartment, spotting the blanket on your couch and a pillow.

“Did I interrupt your date with your couch?” you roll your eyes.

“You did actually, it was a good one too—“ he cuts you off with a look, “I don’t know if I really want to go out. I was thinking I’d just—“

“What? Sit here and become one with your couch?” he raises an eyebrow.

You pout, “Yuta, I don’t know. I think I rather stay home—“

And that’s what you had done all day — Suguru had checked in here and there — trying desperately to finish up work to make it for some part of your birthday but hadn’t checked in for two hours now. You were sure he was going to be on his way soon — but that didn’t make waiting any less depressing. Your phone even had sighed at you as you checked your messages for the millionth time to find no new ones — low battery life only taunting you in return.

“That’s what you’ve done all day — I’m sure your boyfriend would want you to go out and have fun—“ he crosses his arms in front of your doorway, “come on, we can just go watch a movie, no big deal — we can have some fun and kill a few hours, okay?”

And you stare at your phone again, before locking it — “let’s go,”

~~~~

Finally, Suguru sat down right as the train began to roll forward — he had barely made it. The meetings stacked up the day before had put far behind on his grading — he nearly couldn’t make it.

Not if he hadn’t stayed up until 3:00 AM.

He checked his phone — he should make it by 5:00 PM, which should leave plenty of time for dinner and he checked his bag for your gift — it was just what you wanted — a necklace you had pointed out to him, a dragon with multi-colored gems. He laid against the seat, his forehead leaning against the cool glass.

God, he missed you.

It had been too long. Since he had even seen your face not through his phone screen and heard your voice whisper in his ear not through his cellphone. But that’s all he saw and heard of you lately.

He didn’t know the department would be this much of a mess when he took over. The last department head was truly enjoying his retirement months before it began. It was enough he had his department head duties but to teach two classes on top of that was enough for work to pile up until it was untenable. And he was unavailable.

How many times had he fallen asleep on the phone with you? How many times had he canceled plans to come see you? How many times had he missed dates?

And how many more would there be?

He knew you said everything was fine, he knew you understood his circumstance, he knew it wouldn’t be forever — but still — he wrung his fingers in his lap — why did it feel like it already had been forever? Since he had seen you smile, seen you laugh, held your hand, kissed your lips — it felt as if you were disappearing from his grasp.

But he wouldn’t let it happen — he couldn’t.

~~~

“Please turn your cellphone off and place it in these bags before entering the movie,” the ticket attendant told you and Yuta as he handed you both your tickets for something called, Human Earthworm 4, handing you both phone pouches.

You knit your brow together, “But—”

“This is an early screening of the movie, so the staff has been told that all persons seeing this movie today must lock their phones in these pouches before entering the theater,” the attendant explains, gesturing to the cardboard cutout of the movie with a sign that said ‘early screening’ in bold letters, “otherwise you could exchange your tickets for a different movie,” you purse your lips — you had been looking forward to seeing this movie, especially early. And Yuta had even bought the tickets ahead of time after hearing you talk about it at one of the student government meetings.

Yuta’s eyes slide to you, “We can see another—”

“It’s fine,” you shake your head, giving a small smile, “Let me just send a quick text,” you step away for a moment, texting Suguru — I’m going into a movie, I have to turn off my phone. Let me know when you’re on the train.

You lock your phone with a sigh, placing it in the bag — either way, he hadn’t texted, so you were sure he wasn’t on the train yet. And you weren’t sure if he would even make it. It was fine — you glanced at Yuta, walking over to the movie theater — it really was.

Because it wouldn’t be forever.

~~~~

The screech of the train jerks Suguru awake, his eyes burning, as he glances out the window — the sun beginning to give up the sky already, starting its descent. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand as he checks the time — fuck, it had been an hour already. He leans back, glancing through his notifications and he sees a text from you.

Fuck, he had forgotten to respond to your messages earlier. He was a mess trying to get to the station, a flurry of papers, caffeine, and adrenaline — and he had spotted your messages before he left the office, only to make a mental note to reply once he was on the train. Where that note had been left in the recesses of his mind he could only guess.

He types: I’m so sorry, sweetheart — in my rush to get here, I didn’t let you know — I’m on the train already—

And then he pauses, he could surprise you — at your apartment. You’d be home after about an hour it seemed by the time he got to your place — it was perfect. He could pick up your cake (the one he had pre-ordered) and set everything up just in time — and then he could take you out for the dinner he had promised you.

He deletes the text, rewriting it — I’m so sorry sweetheart. I just finished work. I should be there by 7:00 PM. I love you. I’ll see you soon, birthday girl.

He sends the message, a smile on his lips — maybe there was something special he could do today, as he watches the train continue on its way.

He only hoped it would work out in his favor.

~~~

“It was perfect — the metaphor? Did you not see the metaphor?” Yuta nodding along to your rant as the two of you make it back to your apartment, “I know it seems like a dumb movie but if you read between the lines—” and you glance at Yuta, who continues to nod, and you stare, “you hated the movie, didn’t you?”

“No, no, I didn’t—” and then you raise an eyebrow, “it was really bad — have you seen good movies before?”

You laugh, shaking your head, “There’s no accounting for taste,”

“Clearly,” he replies, and you push him playfully, crossing your arms, as he grins back at you, “well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, that’s the important part,”

“And you got to bully me about my movie taste so that’s a lovely end to the evening,” he snorts, as the two of you make it outside your apartment door, “thanks for dragging me out — it was really nice,” you dig in your bag for your keys, “it was fun,”

“I’m glad I could help — I hope I made your day a little better,”

“You already do that by just being you, Yuta,” you pull your keys out, your phone slipping out with it — “shoot,” you kneel down and Yuta does too, fingers brushing as you pick it up — as your phone springs back to life, “shit, I guess i forgot to turn it back on,” as you rise, beginning to unlock your door as your texts start to come through — and you blink, right as you turn the knob, slowly reading the first message as you open the door only spotting Suguru’s back through the crack in the door.

Fuck. And you quickly shut the door.

“You okay?” Your eyes flicker up, forcing a small smile, as Yuta tilts his head.

“Yeah, sorry — my boyfriend is inside I think,” your mind in a dizzying panic, “I should go talk to him, alone,” you shift from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward — but it seems to work, as Yuta nods.

“Right, of course, I”ll go,” he bites his lip, “let me know if you need anything ok?” And he’s gone, as you turn back around, taking a beat, before you open the door.

“Surprise?” you say, and Suguru is holding a cake with lit candles, lights dimmed, a small smile on his lips.

“I think that’s supposed to be my line,” he frowns at the expression on your face, “what’s—” and you shake your head, walking over.

“We’ll talk about that later,” you stand in front of him and your cake, “All I want to focus on is you and my cake,” and your lips curl, “and I believe I’m owed a song?”

“Happy birthday to you,” he sings softly, jawline illuminated by the low light of the candle, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, my dear sweetheart,” and you bite back a grin, “Happy birthday to you,” he holds the cake up a little higher, “make a wish,”

You hum, “I don’t know what to wish for,” you blow out your candles, before taking the cake from his hands and placing it down before slipping into his arms, “I have everything I want right here.”

~~~

Suguru had almost gotten it right. Almost.

“Yuta almost saw you earlier,” you admit, “he didn’t, I realized before and made an excuse but,” you sigh, as the two of you sit on the couch, your fork toying with your slice of cake, “it was close,”

Close. Close to revealing your relationship. Lose to jeopardizing your future. Close to ruining your friendship. It was far too close — or was he far too close to you?

His brow knit together, “I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have let myself in and I should have texted earlier—“

“It’s not your fault, Suguru, it’s fine,” you offer a smile, “I don’t even mind if Yuta knows — he’s a good friend,”

“But still—“ you drag a finger through frosting and place a dollop on his nose, “sweetheart—“

“Let’s not focus on that right now. This is the first time I got to see you in weeks,” you lean over and lick the frosting from the tip of his nose, a warmth spreading across his face from your touch, “I want to enjoy the rest of my birthday with my boyfriend, okay?”

But he still couldn’t bring himself to pull away — not now.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips — it had been far too long since he had felt the soft press of your lips against his own. He could taste the frosting, the sickly sweetness didn’t begin to compare to your taste, and how much he had ached for it.

But it also didn’t stop him from dragging a finger dipped in frosting across your cheek.

“Suguru!” You gape at him, looking utterly too adorable with your pout and the frosting across your cheek, “on my birthday too?”

“Well, you’re so sweet, I wanted to see if it was possible for you to be even sweeter,” and he leans over licking the frosting from your cheek, “looks like it’s not possible—“ and you swallow his sentence with a kiss, as your plate and fork clatter as you set it down on your coffee table, climbing into his lap, your knees on either side, “our reservation — we’ll be late,” even so his hands drag down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I think I want dessert first,” you murmur, before finding his lips in a kiss again.

It’s hours later, and you’re fast asleep beside him, your face buried against the crook of his neck, as Suguru runs his fingers through your hair. But he can’t sleep. Not when he keeps thinking about what you said.

You didn’t deserve this. To spend days waiting for your boyfriend to be free, to spend your time wondering when he would be able to call you, to spend your time stressed out at the idea of getting caught. A relationship should be easier, it should be fun — but you haven’t had either since he had to move.

His fingers brushes against the curve of your cheek and then tracing the chain of the necklace, thumbing the dragon charm. He loves you — he loves you, but was it enough when you deserved so much more? How many more things would he miss because of work? How many more things would you hide because you didn’t want him to feel guilty? How many more times would he let you?

He had felt you slipping from his fingers these last few weeks — he presses a kiss to your forehead — but he had never considered whether he should let you go.

Until now.

~~~

Can we call tonight? I miss you.

Suguru glances at his phone, students already filed in and sitting, the quiet chatter before class began. It had been like this for a week. He locked his phone, tucking it away in his pockets.

“If you all will sit and settle down, we’ll begin today’s lecture,” he says to the class, “we’re going to continue our discussion from last class on Scanlon — we’ll start with any questions left from our conversation,”

Several hands fly up, and he chooses one to speak, “I had a question,”

He blinks, spotting you amongst his students, “What are you—“

“Professor, you haven’t let me ask my question,” you pout, as you lean against the desk, arms crossed, “I need to understand the material to pass, don’t I?”

All replies get stuck in his throat — as words fail him, as they always did with you. He’s only able to nod. And you smile, lips curling wide.

“Scanlon posits the question “what do we owe to each other?’ But there is no one answer — we are meant to figure that on our own,” you lean back in your chair, “and I believe I’m owed at least a text back,”

The students’ quiet murmurings and piercing stares drawing heat up his neck, and you were the one who lit the match, flames licking at your heels.

“Sweetheart—“

“Do you get to call me that after how you’ve treated me?” you scoff, as you slide from your chair onto your feet, “no visit in weeks, barely any phone calls, and once we even got on the phone, you would fall asleep. Have you asked how I’ve been? How have I dealt with all of this? Do you even know how my semester is going?”

His mouth is a desert, and his words have all but deserted him — as he fumbles for any syllables he could grasp onto, but finds none. Because he has no excuses to be made.

You walk down the stairs of the lecture hall, as the slow steps you take ring in his ears, “do you know what I’m risking? My reputation, my career, my future — for what? For you? I know my answer to what I want in life. I know my answer is you — can you say the same?”

And the class is gone — and it’s only the two of you.

“I’d do anything for you, I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to. I—“ his voice breaks, and your hand finds his cheek, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

“Except let me go, apparently.”

RING. RING. RING.

His eyes flutter open, a breath caught in his throat, as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before reaching blindly for his phone. He glanced at the screen now, turning off the alarm, spotting a text from you at the top.

Morning Sugu — I miss you <3, can we call tonight?

And he stares at your message before locking his screen and placing his phone down and turning around.

He needed to talk to you.

~~~~

“You’ve checked your phone like for the millionth and one time,” your eyes find Yuta’s as the two of you continue to put up flyers for the student government hosted dinner later in the week, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” and he stares at you, “what?” And then you sigh, “my boyfriend — it just feels like he’s been avoiding me, and I don’t know why,”

“Have you asked him why?” He holds a flier and tapes it a bulletin board outside, and you shake your head, “maybe you should try,”

“I want to, I just never get a chance to — he’s been so busy with work and I haven’t—“ and you sigh — it had been over a week since you and Suguru had even spoken on the phone, much less even video called, “I feel like something’s wrong — something is bothering him,” your voice falters, as you swallow your emotions, a sigh on your lips, “I don’t know,”

Yuta takes a pause, stealing a glance at you, before he turns to look, “You’ll only know if you ask — and the longer you wait, the harder it will be to be honest,” he glances away, “trust me,”

You crumple the flier in your hand, squeezing, “I’m just scared of the answer,” you admit. It had been so difficult to get to this point — tears roll down your cheeks — to see Suguru slip away because of this would be too much.

“I know,” Yuta says softly, as he gently places his hand on your shoulder, “but you still need it regardless,”

And then you hear a voice call your name, and you wipe your tears hurriedly as Yuta pulls his hand away, your gaze snapping over to see Professor Yaga and—

Suguru?

~~~

“Look who’s here for a meeting,” Yaga says, clapping a hand to Suguru’s shoulder, “did you hear that Professor Geto had become department head of the Kyoto sister university?”

And Suguru knew you very well had — but you hadn’t heard he’d come here for a meeting. To be fair, he didn’t know until this morning — but to be even more fair, he had plenty of time to tell you. But he didn’t — because he was hoping he wouldn’t see you, not like this.

“I did,” you force a smile, “it’s good to see you, Professor Geto, how have you been?”

You’re a natural at acting as if nothing is the matter — but he’s become a master at seeing right through it. He spotted the way your fingers wiped away your tears, your red rimmed eyes, and the plastered on smile that was nearly pulling into a frown. He resisted the urge to purse his lips — he had wondered for a split second what had made you cry? Until he saw the flicker of a glare in your gaze, and he knew he was the reason.

And it was yet another reason he needed to end this.

And this — Suguru’s eyes flicker between you and your friend — was the friend he assumed was Yuta, his brow knit in confusion, “I’ve been well — it’s good to see you, I hope the semester has gone well for you?”

You shrug, your expression unreadable, “Well enough, you know how the semester goes — it’s very busy around this time. Easy for things to slip through the cracks,” and he forces his gaze to not waver.

“Very true, it’s important to keep on top of things,”

“Especially the important things,” you give both him and Professor Yaga a stiff smile, “It’s good to see you both, but we have more flyers to hang up for the event coming up later this week,” you take Yuta’s hand, “if you’ll excuse us,” and the two of you disappear off around the corner.

“It was good to see her, wasn’t it?” Professor Yaga says, a smile on his lips, “she’s come a long way after your class — she was already an excellent student, but now, I see even brighter things on her horizon,” as he continues to walk down the hallway in the opposite direction, and Suguru spares a single glance over his shoulder, before pulling out his phone and texting you:

Can we talk later? I’ll let you know where.

“It was.”

~~~~

“Old habits die hard?” you sat on Suguru’s old desk as he walked in, your arms crossed in front of you. And Suguru tilts his head, closing the door behind him.

“Did something happen in this room?” and you roll your eyes, as he steps forward, “ah, yes, you’re referring to your grades right?”

“Yes, my grades — I’m still upset about that 99,” but the playfulness all but dies on your lips as he draws close, your eyes unable to meet his gaze, as if you would see some truth you weren’t ready to uncover, “Suguru, what’s going on?”

“Sweetheart—”

“You’ve been distant since my birthday, avoiding calling me, you barely text me — and today, you didn’t even tell me you were in Tokyo,” your voice breaks — even if you had thought what you wanted to say to him a million times today — it didn’t make it any easier, “are you upset with me?”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he’s shaking his head, as he cups your cheeks, “you didn’t do anything except be completely wonderful,” he swallows, voice catching, as he seems to struggle with his words, “and that’s why I have to let you go,”

The sentence repeats in your mind over and over — and you still can’t make sense of it. No, no, it didn’t make sense. Why would he want to break up?

One word was all you could manage to respond with — “What?”

“Sweetheart, you deserve someone who can be there for you, someone who will be there with you when you need them, who will call you, prioritize you, give you all of their energy — and with this distance—”

“We can make it work—” and you know you’re crying now, tears rolling down his knuckles, filling the chasm he’s making between the two of you.

He’s running his fingers through his hair, “You’re making this work — I’m trying too but I haven’t been able to visit you, I haven’t been able to see you or talk to you properly in weeks—”

“It’s not forever, it won’t be like this. I’m almost done with my degree, I can move down to Kyoto—”

“And I don’t want you to limit your options because of me and my career,” he cuts you off gently, as his thumb rubs back and forth, wiping your tears away, “you have such a wonderful future ahead of you — whether you decide to pursue a Ph.D. or a lecturer position or whatever else — I want you to make that decision without my presence being a factor—”

“But—” and he’s pressing his lips to you softly, it’s gentle and sweet — his hands holding you as if you would break apart in his fingers before him, as his lips finally part yours “Suguru, I know what I’m doing—”

“I know, but so do I,” he murmurs, as he begins to step away from you, his warmth leaving your body, “if it’s easier for you to hate me, hate me — if it’s easier to be indifferent, be indifferent — I just can’t hold you back, sweetheart. I can’t do that to you — whether it’s professionally or personally,”

“Suguru, you’re not letting me have a say in this,” and he takes your hands, lacing your fingers together, “I want this, I know it’s been hard, but don’t you want this too?”

“I do — I love you, but that’s why I can’t do that to you. I want you to be happy—”

“Even if it comes at the cost of your own happiness?” you scoff, “Are you subscribing to utilitarianism? Are you okay being a happiness pump?” Your fingers try to find purchase on his cheek, but he pulls away, hands falling away from yours.

“I am, if it means you’re happy, then I am,” Suguru whispers, glancing away from him, “it’s not worth the risk,”

Your words are quiet, as you swallow your tears, and you force your voice to be steady, “You’re making this about me — when it’s about you too,” you brush past him, “I didn’t expect you to be a coward, Suguru, but I suppose, I got the answer I deserve.”

And the door shuts behind you, tears burning as you walk off — and you know that he wouldn’t follow.

But you still hoped he would.

~~~

Suguru stands by the window, watching students file in and out of the building.

It was the right thing to do. That’s what he kept telling himself — over and over and over. But if it was so right, then why did he feel wrong? Wrong for breaking your heart. Wrong for letting you wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He spent his time debating amongst others what right and wrong really was, but he always knew there would never be an answer.

And then he spots you leaving the building, before you bump into someone who stops you, your head down, but it doesn’t work, as the person pulls you into a hug. And he knew who it was — it was that student from earlier — Yuta. He had seen the way he looked at you — the same softness that Suguru had recognized because he saw it in himself.

He knew you deserved better, just because you were his answer —- he watched you sink into Yuta’s arms — doesn’t mean he was yours.

✧ a/n: ahhh the anticipated fourth part!! there’s gonna be one more part of the main series and then it’s onto extra credit fics :). Don’t worry it will be a happy ending!! I promise!

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot t, @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries ,

[pupkashi]

volvi a nacer

gojo feels life start anew now that you’re by his side

a/n: hi hi friends ! this is heavily inspired by this song !! i think it’s so sweet and yeah <3 (unrelated but my bf sent me it i was geeking out for a week ok) ALSO GIGI (@4sat0ruu) I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS SO MUCH MY FELLOW LATINA 🙏🙏🙏; slightly latinx coded reader bc i can !

wordcount - 2,737

masterlist

translations: mi amor // my love, hermoso(a) // beautiful, mi corazon // my heart, cariño // sweetheart

there was time in gojo satoru’s life that he felt his life had essentially ended. he felt isolated, like no one would ever fill the void he felt in his chest.

he didn’t think he had anyone to lean on when he needed it, opting for a façade of cockiness and jokes when anyone asked if he was alright.

you saw through it all. with a concerned frown on your face as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could and squeezing him.

“i don’t need your hugs, y/n,” he scoffed, hoping you didn’t hear the wobble in his voice, “I’m the strongest, i can take on anything by myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but you don’t have to,” you whispered, not letting go for a second. you heard the tremble in his breath, the hitch in his throat when he heard your next words, “I’m right here, you’ll be okay.”

for a split second satoru saw the world for all its warmth and love rather than its faults and challenges. he felt the love and support he’d only ever imagined, the suns warm rays hitting his skin as you held him tightly.

it faded as you pulled away, and he could hear nobara and yuji yelling in the distance, toge and yuta laughing at something.

“I’ll be here if you need me, okay?” you reassure him, your hand lingers on his shoulder for a bit before you walk away.

you’re only two steps away when you feel satoru gently grab your wrist, letting go not even a second after he did. when you turn to face him he looks shocked, as if he didn’t have control of his own body for a second.

“uh- can-” he stumbles over his words, not knowing exactly what to say and not exactly having the courage to say whatever they were.

“yeah, i can,” you smile softly, taking his hand in yours, “how about we get some food, when’s the last time you had actual food and not take out or sweets?” you question.

satoru rolls his eyes, scoffing before counting the days on his fingers, “it hasn’t been that long,” he mumbles, smiling a bit when you shake your head and laugh at him.

it’s been three years since then, somewhere along the way the line of caring friend and something more had been crossed, pinkies interlinking during movie night, a stolen kiss in a maintenance closet when hiding from an upset yaga.

he’s not exactly sure what’s making him reminisce on that day. maybe he’s recalling the way the sunshine felt on his skin, the way it does now as it pours in through the blinds, landing on his bare chest.

“you didn’t snore this time” you mumble, voice a bit hoarse as you wake up.

satoru grins, “I told you I’d stop,” you can’t help but half laugh, cuddling up to him more, “I’d do anything you ask of me sweets.”

“it’s 9 in the morning and you’re already professing your undying love?” you tease, just barely opening your eyes to look at your lover, who’s already staring right back at you, soft smile adorning his beautiful face.

“would do it all hours of the day if you’d let me,” he replies, not missing a beat. you can only chuckle softly, letting your head rest on his chest. your hair tickles him a bit but he ignores it, focusing on the way your index fingers draws random patterns on his abdomen.

satoru lets his mind wander, he thinks how lucky he is.

how lucky he was to be given a second chance at life, to be able to come back from a place so dark, to now be able to quite literally be bathed in sunlight and tender touches.

“where’d you go?” you whisper, adjusting yourself on your side and letting your arm prop you up. satoru is reeled back in, snowy lashes kissing his cheeks gently as he lays on his side to face you.

“thinking ‘bout how lucky i am,” he mumbles, staring at you for a second before a soft smile overtakes his lips, “I love you.” the words never fail to make you smile, you never miss a beat to respond, “i love you more, angel boy.”

“there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for you, you know that right?” he’s focusing on the fuzz of the blanket rather than your eyes, looking up only when you hum in response.

“what if you have to fight off the most talented swordsman in the world for me?” you tease, he’s smiling at you as he sits up.

“then I’ll get a sword and do what i have to do to not lose you,” he answers like it’s the most simple thing in the world, “I’ve fought off worse haven’t i?” his cockiness makes you roll your eyes and chuckle, sitting up and kissing his cheek before stretching and finally getting out of bed.

“i guess so, you’re too strong for any of my hypotheticals,” you mumble, the taller man following you into the restroom, brushing your teeth together before heading into the living room.

“what do you want for breakfast?” satoru asks, his hands are already reaching for the ingredients for an omelette, recalling how you’d been craving one since last night but fell asleep as soon as you’d gotten home.

“what’s on the menu today, chef gojo?” you smile, moving from the couch to the kitchen bar, watching as he took out four eggs and various veggies and meats.

“how ‘bout that omelette you were dreaming of yesterday, sweetheart?” he’s grinning as he cracked an egg open with one hand over the bowl, a trick you’d taught him that took him the course of two cartons of eggs.

“you’re too perfect mi amor,” the words make his ears turn bright red, face flushed as he continues his fluid movements in the kitchen.

three years ago had someone told you the satoru gojo could make omelettes and crack eggs with one hand you would’ve laughed in their face, betting your life savings and then some against the snowy haired sorcerer.

yet here you are; three years, lots of broken eggs, burnt food and nights in the restroom later- you watch the love of your life make you an omelette.

the two of you eat breakfast over small talk, telling him of your plans for the day.

“I’ve gotta run some errands today, i hope traffic isn’t too bad” you trail off, mentally checking all the things you had to do.

“i can drive if you want,” he shrugs, chugging down the last bit of orange juice in his cup before grabbing your plate and placing them in the sink. “i don’t have anything else going on.”

you smile at your lover, “you don’t have to drive me around everywhere, you know that right?” satoru knew your distaste for being behind the wheel, he only saw it as an opportunity to pamper you and treat you like the royalty you were.

“i know, but i love driving you everywhere,” he grins, walking next to where you were seated and bending over to kiss your temple, “I’ll be your loyal chauffeur for as long as you’ll have me, hermosa.” the word is foreign on his tongue, it slips past his lips naturally, just the way you’d been teaching him common phrases.

“hermosa? who’d you learn that one from?” fighting the smile off your face was a predestined loss, barely hiding how over the moon you were at the new pet name. your words are teasing as you stand from the kitchen bar, stopping right in front of your lover, looking up at him.

“duolingo was hitting on me, actually,” satoru replies, a dimpled smile on his face when your arms snake around his neck, pulling him downwards so his lips met yours.

“can duo fight?” you laugh between kisses, pressing a softer kiss to the tip of his nose before detaching yourself from him.

satoru is ready before you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching- no admiring, your every move as you get ready. his mind is filled with a whirlwind of compliments he can’t seem to get out, overcome with an overwhelming sense of love for you.

you’re an aura of warmth, kindness and love, and angel sent for him. a caring soul, who nurtured him back to health; through late night calls that ended with you in his apartment or vice versa, gentle reminders and tight hugs helping him through his toughest nights. through forced outings to fairs and arcades, despite his protests that he has been doing things other than working with his students and going on missions (he hadn’t).

it had taken time, but satoru had healed.

your love had healed him.

“oh i can’t do movie night Friday” you frowned, watching as the second and first years trained.

“oh? why’s that” satoru was caught off guard, you’d never been one to cancel on him.

“i- uh- I’ve got a date, actually” you chuckle, staring at your finger nails before looking at the man next to you.

“a date?” he repeated, heart sinking and stomach falling as you nodded with a smile.

“nanami set me up with them, didn’t know he actually had friends besides us,” you smiled, trying your best to ease the palpable tension.

you’d gotten up and left shortly after that, some lame excuse he can’t remember now. he did remember angrily walking into nanami’s office, accusing him of hating satoru and wanting to see him suffer.

“have you thought of- i don’t know, maybe telling y/n how you feel?” kento sighs, trying his best to focus on the report he was filling out before satoru had barged in.

satoru hadn’t thought of that, but he took his friends advice and marched up to you three hours later, confessing his feelings upfront.

“don’t go on that date, they don’t deserve you,” he began, immediately taking you back, “and maybe i don’t either but just give me one chance and i swear you won’t regret it.”

“what’s up with you today? maybe you shouldn’t drive” your words pull him out of his memory, blinking once, then twice before fully coming back to his senses.

“do you remember when you told me you had that date?” he asks, watching as you furrows your brows, the corners of your lips turning upwards as you recall the memory.

“oh yeah! then you confessed like an hour later” satoru nods, blushing a bit. “what about it?” you ask, moving to sit next to him, taking his larger hand in yours, tracing soothing circles into his skin with your thumb.

“i didn’t even know i liked you then,” he admits, “i just felt this terrible feeling in my stomach and yelled at nanami for wanting to ruin my life.” the revelation makes you smile a bit, “he told me to tell you that i liked you and only then did it dawn upon me that i had romantic feelings for you.” satoru laughs at himself now, looking at you with sparkling blue eyes.

“well, you were- and still are a bit of a dummy” you mumble, pulling his arm so satoru can lean against you, letting you rest your head atop his. “my silly angel boy.”

angel boy.

the first time he heard you say that he quite literally stopped in his tracks, smiling from ear to ear before picking you up and spinning you around. ‘say it again!’ he kept asking, blushing just as hard every time the pet name left your mouth.

satoru loves grocery shopping with you, checking off things as you put them in the cart. he thinks you look angelic against the backdrop of produce, heart fluttering as you look for the best bunch of cilantro.

he could do this for the rest of his life, he thinks to himself. the realization makes him bump against the display, thankful nothing fell over.

satoru gojo wants to marry you.

he wants nothing more in his life than to be with you for as long as he could. he wants to spend his mornings and nights besides you, he wants to make you breakfast and help you cook dinner, he wants to wash the dishes because you hate washing them, he wants to wake up to Cumbia and bachata on Sunday mornings as you clean, joining you and singing in broken Spanish as you serenade him with a broom.

it’s not as romantic as he’d once imagined, he thought the realization would come to him as the wind blew through your hair, or the golden rays of the sun kissed your cheeks.

instead he’s watching you pick out a two pack of steak, looking at him with a wide smile, “the prices dropped!” you grin, giddy as you happily put the meat into the cart, practically skipping down the line of raw meats.

he can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he wonder what to do next, mindlessly following you around the grocery store with the cart, every aisle affirming the fact that you’re the only one for him, especially as you tell him to get one sweet treat for the week as you go and get the milk.

he’s staring lovingly at you as you wait in line at the register, watching with interest as your eyes light up, “cariño can you get the eggs? i completely forgot,” he nods immediately, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning on his heel and heading towards the eggs.

satoru lets the thought of marriage ruminate in his mind, recalling the times you’d talked about marriage, agreeing that you’d want to marry him. what if you’d changed your mind since then?

later that week as satoru is passing you the salt, he asks you the question that’s been eating at his mind. “do you still wanna get married?”

you chalk it up to his usual insecurities, turning around and kissing the tip of his nose and both his dimples. “‘course i do, angel boy” you reply, not missing a beat, “why? everything okay?”

satoru nods, eyes fluttering shut when your lips are pressing against his. “everything’s perfect,” he mumbles against you, smiling and chasing your lips for one more kiss before he passes you the butter.

one month later satoru is under the shade the cherry blossom trees give him, with you staring down at him, mouth still agape from seeing him get down on one knee.

“mi corazon, I’ve loved you more than i thought possible, you’ve breathed life into me when i thought there was no reason to keep living, you bring out the best in me everyday,” he begins, hands shaking slightly as you stare back at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“i want to be by your side for the rest of my life, i want to find you in every crowd, save you a seat next to mine and end my days with you in my arms,” satoru tried to ignore the thumping of his heart in his ears, “i want to be the only one lucky enough to be loved by you, will you marry me?”

you’re nodding quickly, mouth still covered before you’re throwing your arms around the snowy haired man- your now fiancé. “of course, yes!” you laugh, sniffling and wiping the tears that had fallen as you squeeze him tightly. “i love you cariño, i love you so so much” you grin, pressing your lips harshly against his, not caring when your teeth bump against his as you both smile, the spring wind causing pink petals to fall around the two of you.

there was a time in gojo’s life when he thought his life was over. he looks back and smiles, how was he supposed to know the best part of his life was only starting?

the void he once felt in his chest was now overflowing with the love and patience you poured into him; sickeningly sweet pet names and tender touches to ease his mind.

satoru can’t help but smile when he wakes up next to you everyday, grateful beyond belief he decided to be vulnerable that day in the courtyard.

“already staring at me lovingly?” you teased, making satoru grin, dimples on his cheeks as he hummed.

“something like that.”

[loveswrites]

ok so how about cullen poly during the fight scene in the fourth movie orrrr cullen poly with how spending a day with them would be like

Tomorrow Poly Cullens x reader

Summary: Basically what the lovely anon asked for but I didn’t listen what so ever so I might make a part two if you guys want.

Etc: And if you loves want a part two let me know and drop some ideas for what they could do in their two hours aloneee. Also thank you my loves for all of the notes it encourages me to write more things for you guys and not just myself lol <3

Word count: 1694

Time it took: 1 hour and 40 minutes

“How could you be like a thousand years old and still so stupid!” You huffed holding your head in your hand. You and the Cullens had been fighting lately. You don’t know why.. Well maybe you have something to do with it.

“How am I stupid? I really can’t hangout with you today my darling. We need to hunt. Especially Jasper, with you being around a lot more his hunger levels tend to double.” Carlisle said. You could just picture him looking at you in sympathy. 

You had called him because apparently all of your lovers are just too busy to hang out with you. You thought Carlisle would be free seeing as he was off today but I guess that wasn’t the case. He was off to go hunting with the rest of the family. Jasper had to leave earlier than the rest. So Alice, Emmett and Esme went with him. You thought Edward would be free since he didn’t go with him but he was in one of his petty moods ever since you went to hang out with Seth and Jacob with Bella. You told him he had nothing to worry about but he insisted that he did. Him and his stupid stupid mind reading. Which led to a fight with him so he was on the bottom of the roster right now.

Then there was Rosalie which was just a hard no for you. You didn’t want to hang out with her right now. Why you may ask? She threw away your pasta three days ago because she said it stunk. Who is she to throw away your pasta? You don’t walk around here popping her blood bags because you don’t like the way it looks to you. Maybe you should. I thought about it for a while and eventually said it out loud, Which was another fight with her that you could just add to the list.

So that left Carlisle who was perfect. Just perfect. He had picked you up from school just earlier today because you told him that you needed a ride. Since everyone else was busy he came and got you. Which he usually doesn’t do because it draws attention. But by now everyone was used to you being with and around the Cullens. Though they don’t know that you date them all. They only know that you date Jasper and Edward which they already thought was weird as hell. But you never cared. You're in love with two vampires that are the downfall to all of the human race. And you think that the world can know that. Know just enough without blowing the cover of it all.

“My love, I know that you are disappointed and upset with us but sadly there is nothing that I can offer for a solution.” Carlisle said after hearing your long aspirated sigh. 

“It’s like you guys are avoiding me. I don’t feel loved at all. I want some love without an argument following through not even two minutes in.” You said, Stripping yourself of your clothes preparing to take a shower since you had nothing better to do. 

“We are not avoiding you-” Carlisle paused and you could hear voices in the background. Listening closely you could hear that it was Esme.

“Is that-”

“I’m sorry but I have to go, the hospital is calling.” He rushed out and before you could even say a word the line was clear. 

Pulling your phone away from your ear you could do nothing but stare at it in disbelief. He hung up on you. And not only that but you were completely sure that that was Esme's voice in the background. No one else around her sounds like her. And you know damn well the hospital did not call him. He was lying. Esme was lying. They’re all lying. 

You couldn’t feel anything but disbelief. 

You knew they lied to just about everyone but that was to protect their family. Not everyone in the town could know that they drink animal blood and sparkle in the sun like a fucking case of glitter. But you knew those things already. You’ve seen those things already. So there would be no reason to hide anything from you. At all. 

Finding a new sense of adventure sparling through your veins you put your clothes back on now determined to find some answers. 

Running down the stairs with your bookbag you almost bumped into Charlie. “Woah there kiddo, What's the rush?!” He yelled out to you as you ran past him.

“I’ll be back later, don't worry I just need to see something really quick!” You yelled back getting into your car Carlisle got you for your last birthday. You had told him that was a big mistake. Even though He bought you a car you always felt guilty using it because you didn’t want it to look like you were using him. So you’d always catch a ride with one of them or go with bella. But right now you didn’t care about any of that. 

Pulling up to the Cullens residents It looked deserted. But then again when did it not? Parking your car you walked up to the door which was already being opened by Alice. Once you saw her you immediately frowned. She was supposed to be with Jasper just like Esme was. 

“What are you-”

“You need to go home.” Alice said firmly with her head held high light always.

“What? I don’t understand, why are you here?” You grow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Cleaning. Now go.” She said pointing back to your car.

“Do you see me walking away from this house anytime soon Alice?” You said standing your ground. She wasn’t just about to go and rush you away when you had only just gotten here. Seeing her face you knew the answer. 

You pushed her out of the way gently but made it known that you were going to back down and bow like a little puppy. 

As you walked closer to the heart of the house you heard mumbling and hushed whispers. Finally reaching your destination your eyes widened a little with what you saw. And your heart skipped a couple of beats.

Standing in front of you there was a sign on the wall that read. "We're so sorry’ And the loves of your life were each holding a sign that read ‘I love you because…’

“I know we lied to you but we had too. It was the only way for us to be able to put something together to try and show you the love that we have for you. You came sooner than expected.” Jasper said, looking a little ashamed. Him and his southern accent would always make you smile. Sometimes you wondered if it was just him. Or him using his powers on you. But either way you didn’t care it made you happy.

“Once Alice saw you coming we had to throw something together really fast. We were still brainstorming ideas Roslise didn’t like anything we suggested.” Edward said, shooting Rose a pointed look making you let out a small laugh. That was more like a sigh of relief. 

“It wasn’t enough, all their Ideas sucked. You deserve nothing but the best and I think I'm the only one in this room that understands that.” Rose said in her know it all tone that you loved so much.

“When you said over the phone early that you didn’t feel loved anymore that broke a piece of my heart. I- We never want you to feel that way. We want you to feel like the most loved person in this world. Because you are my love. We would die for you.” Carlisle said taking a step closer to you.

“I’d live for you.” Edward said, taking a step closer to you.

“Fight for you.” Jasper and Emmett said at the same time. Also taking a step closer to you.

“Smile for you.” Rose said, taking her step.

“Care for you.” Esme said taking a step as well.

“We couldn’t imagine a life without you and we're going to prove it to you. Starting today.” Esme said.

“Well more like tomorrow.” Rose said Shrugging her shoulders when everyone looked at her with a look as if to tell her to shut up.

“Rose is right, the full day starts tomorrow but doesn’t mean we can’t start tonight. You’ll have at least 2 hours with each of us until it’s time for us all to gather together. Since tomorrow is saturday.” Carlisle said kissing the top of your forehead, making you smile. Realizing you hadn’t said a word in a while you decided to throw something out there.

“Really?” You whispered but you know they heard you. Perks of being a vampire.

“Yes.” They all said collectively. 

This made you so over filled with joy squealing you kissed all of your lovers with a big wide smile on your face. They of course kissed you back like they always do. Biting your bottom lip in anticipation you looked up at all of them in expectation. Making them all break out with a soft smile. In admiration. 

“So what’s first?” You said basically bouncing up and down in excitement.

“I mean we could take you up to the bedroom right now and start the fun immediately.” Emmett smirked looking you up and down with suggestive eyes. 

“Emmett!” You all said collectively.

“What? What did I say wrong? Don’t tell me you all haven't been thinking the same thing.” 

Tomorrow just couldn’t get here fast enough.

[inkdrinkerworld]

They ARE girl dad!Sirius thoughts (because of course he’s a girl dad)

- god ok just imagine this man holding a baby… like just holding his tiny baby girl in his arms and she looks even smaller than normal and he needs to be holding or looking at her 100% of the time otherwise he goes insane

- he loves to spoil his baby girl, like even before she can talk if she looks at something in a store, it’s hers because how could he ever say no to her when she’s so perfect? And he definitely talks to her like she’s an adult, sitting on the couch with her cradled in his arms like “can you believe what James said, that bastard?” and she’ll babble in response and he’s like “I knew you’d understand” (her first word is definitely a curse word but the two of you find it hilarious)

- once she gets a little bigger, he loves carrying her around in those chest carrier things so that his hands can be free but he still gets to stay close to his baby, like you come home and he’s in the kitchen and your daughter is strapped to his chest and she just has this giant baby grin on her face

- she’s a total daddy’s girl, like literally all she wants is to be just like Sirius when she grows up, and she loves drawing on her arms to give herself tattoos to look “just like daddy!” and you can’t even be upset at all because it’s just so cute

- he’s definitely shockingly amazing at doing hairstyles, like of course because his hair is longer he’s pretty skilled but these are like professional-grade hairstyles on his daughter and they always look so perfect and it’s his favorite part of the day when the two of them just get to sit together (until she starts grumbling about him pulling her hair too hard and then he feels awful for the next few hours)

- like he would literally do anything for his baby girl, and his daughter is definitely in the same, like when parents in her class start talking shit about the two of you because you’re so much younger (like Lily/James when they canonically had Harry) and Sirius doesn’t look very stereotypical dad with his piercings and tats and leather jacket but this little girl is ready to physically fight anyone who insults her parents, child or adult

- around the holidays she gets so spoiled but like she’s so perfect so she deserves it, and your house is always decorated and so cozy and the three of you bake cookies together and decorate your tree as a family and obviously you get your daughter lots and lots of gifts but she also gets things for you two, whether she makes them or sneaks off with one of you to go to the store to pick something out for the other

There are more hehehe but all in all just like Sirius being the best dad ever even though he’s terrified of becoming just like his parents (don’t think of all the times during your pregnancy when he broke down about not being a good father and it definitely didn’t stop after your daughter was born but he is the best dad in the world regardless of what he thinks)

Omg YES TO ALL OF THIS!!!

He def does break down a lot while you’re pregnant, more so when you hit pregnancy milestones like feeling the kicks. He starts panicking when he feels the pressure of the foot against his hand.

“What if I mess her up?” He whispers, tears in his eyes as your daughter keeps kicking. “What if I’m like them?”

You hold his face, looking at him all sad and your heart cracks open as you whisper, “You won’t mess a thing up. Not a thing.”

That all proves true when your daughter, Daphné is born. Sirius’ heart expands so much he can’t breathe when he holds her. From then on they’re inseparable and she’s Sirius’ entire world.

His little Daphné is a fighter! The moment anyone says anything about you or her daddy, she’s ready to tussle, even at five. You and Sirius have been called into school more than you care to admit because Daphné likes shoving kids off swing sets when they talk about you and him.

[saturnznct]

your daughter gets her period | hrj

➸ request from anon; heyy I know you arent talking requests, but if you ever get the time... could you do a fic where jinghua gets her period for the first time? Like her mom had already told her about what periods were, but only renjun is around when she gets them. Please take care and i love your works <3

➸ note; thank u anon for requesting! i hope you like this <3

baobei - treasure

➸ word count; 1316 words

➸ jinghua; aged 12

➸ warning(s); periods, blood

nct masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘You understand, baby?’

‘I think so,’ Jinghua, aged nine, mumbles, staring intently at the leaflet that she’d brought home from school.

‘It’s okay if you’re nervous or if you have any questions,’ you see her look of discomfit and uneasiness.

‘Wha… what should I do when it happens?’ she looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed.

‘If you’re at school, let your teacher know, but if you’re at home, come find me and I’ll make sure you’re all cleaned up and sorted, okay? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.’

‘Okay, mum/mom. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome, sweetheart. Let’s forget about it for now, okay?’

Three years later, Jinghua’s still waiting for it to come. A few of her friends have had theirs already, all excited and smug when revealing they had finally become a woman.

You were away for the weekend with friends when it happened to Jinghua. It was your first weekend away in so long, with Renjun watching over your teenage children.

‘Dad,’ Jinghua appears at the door to Renjun’s office, where he’s drawing away on his iPad. 

He looks up, locking his iPad, ‘hi Hua, are you alright?’

It had taken Jinghua a lot of will to approach her father. Once she’d noticed the blood, and managed to process her situation, she’d spent several minutes pacing in the bathroom, trying to muster the courage to go to Renjun.

‘Um,’ she can’t bring herself to make eye contact, ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘Okay,’ Renjun moves from the chair to the couch, patting the space beside him.

‘Oh, I probably shouldn’t sit..’

‘What’s the matter, sweetheart?’

‘I-I would talk to mum/mom, but she’s not here,’ Jinghua starts, fidgeting with her fingers obsessively, ‘so I’m sorry..’

‘Don’t worry, you can talk to me about anything sweetie,’ Renjun reaches a hand out to still her hands.

‘Um, I think… I think I got my period.’

Renjun freezes for a few moments, and he tries his best to pretend like his entire life didn’t just flash before his eyes.

‘Okay..’ Renjun doesn’t even know what to ask, ‘do you know what to do?’

‘I don’t know what to do about the blood,’ she murmurs, ‘and.. I feel a little sick.’

‘You’re okay, I’m going to help you,’ Renjun stands up, mind running at a million miles an hour while he thinks of all the things he’s done to help you over the years.

Jinghua sits awkwardly on the edge of the bathtub while Renjun rifles through the bathroom cabinets, finally locating the baby wipes. 

‘Can you clean yourself off with these?’

‘Yeah, I think so,’ Jinghua takes the packet, ‘but I need some pads.’

‘I know, Hua, I’ll go and have a look in your mum/mom’s drawers, okay?’

Renjun walks into your bedroom swiftly, wrenching open your underwear drawer and pulling out a tampon box.

‘Hua, your mum/mom only has these?’

Jinghua’s eyes widen dramatically at the sight of tampax box.

‘I don’t.. I don’t know how to use those.. and I don’t- I don’t think I want to,’ she stammers, tears springing to her eyes.

‘O-okay sweetheart,’ his mind races, ‘um, will you be ok if you hang on a few minutes while I run to the shop? I’ll buy you some pads and some chocolate and then I’ll make you up a hot water bottle.’

‘Please…’

‘Have a bath Hua, and when you get out I’ll be back, and we can sort you out, is that alright?’

Renjun’s heart aches at how shaken his little girl looks. She rubs her arm nervously, nodding her head, ‘okay, I will. Please don’t be long.’

‘I won’t, baobei,’ he holds her head while he kisses her forehead, an act that usually makes the girl cringe, but one that she welcomed today, ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

Renjun hurries over to the car, finding you in his contact list as quick as humanly possible and clicking the call button.

‘Hello Jun?’ You answer, ‘is everything okay?’

‘Not really,’ Renjun throws himself into the car, starting up the engine.

‘What’s the matter?’ you begin to worry, ‘do you need me to come home?’

‘I don’t think so, but, I don’t know what to do, Jinghua, she’s… she’s not my little girl anymore..’

‘Jun, what are you talking about? Are you sure everything’s okay?’

‘Oh, I should probably should have waited for her to tell you herself, but I just need advice, Jinghua just started her period.’

Your eyes widen, ‘really? Of course this happens while I’m away… is she alright?’

‘She’s a bit mortified that she’s had to tell me I think, I left her running a bath and I’m on my way to the store but I don’t have a clue what I should buy for her,’ Renjun pleads with you, ‘please help me.’

You laugh, amused at how out of his depth your husband sounds, ‘okay, just stay on the phone and I’ll tell you what pads to buy, and what else you’ll need.’

‘I’m just pulling into the store,’ Renjun parks up, speed walking inside.

‘Okay, so the pads, there should be two different kinds, one for normal and ones for nighttime.’

‘Yeah, I see those, but they all have different numbers on, how the hell do I know which ones-‘

‘Jun, it’s okay, those are just the sizes. Get her a two in the normal ones and three for the nighttime, get her a couple of each, those should last her the next two months or so.’

‘Okay, so the purple packet with the two on, and the dark blue packet with the three on,’ Renjun confirms aloud, throwing them into his basket, ‘ok, I’ve got them, what can I get her to make her feel better?’

‘Have a look around and see if you can find painkillers for period pain, they’l probably be in a pink box, with ibuprofen written somewhere on it.’

‘I think I got it,’ Renjun adds them to the basket.

‘Alright, now get her a couple of face-masks and quite a bit of chocolate,’ you add, ‘those will make her feel better.’

‘I think I have everything,’ Renjun heads to the self-checkout, ‘do I need to help her with the pads?’

’She should know how to use them, I showed her a while ago. Just make sure she has a heating pad for her stomach. Let her lay down for a while. Just please don’t make a huge fuss. Don’t tell the boys.’

‘Of course not,’ Renjun scans his card, ‘right, I’m heading back now, she asked me to be as quick as possible.’

‘Okay Junnie, look after her for me. I’ll pretend like I didn’t know.’

‘I promise I will,’ Renjun smiles softly, ‘thank you for this. I love you, I’ll see you in a couple of days.’

‘I love you too Renjun, I’ll talk to you later on.’

‘Bye, sweetheart,’ Renjun hangs up, hurrying back home to his other girl, thankful that the store is close to your home.

Jinghua is still soaking in the bath when Renjun returns. Renjun knocks softly on the bathroom door, letting her know of his arrival, before placing the contents of the shopping bag on her bed.

Jinghua comes down the stairs around a quarter of an hour later, hair damp and in a fresh set of pyjamas, clutching the bag of chocolates in her hand.

‘All sorted?’

‘Yeah,’ she nods quietly, still holding herself as though she’s embarrassed, ‘thank you, daddy.’

‘Please tell me if you need anything else,’ Renjun grabbed her hand, squeezing it lightly, ‘or if your hot water bottle goes cold.’

Jinghua smiles lightly, ‘I will.’

‘Love you, baobei,’ he kisses the side of her head, ‘I’m so glad you felt like you could come to me.’

‘Of course, dad,’ Jinghua pops a chocolate button in her mouth, before offering one to her father, ‘you’re the best.’

[crystal-cloudzz]

Heathers Incorrect Quotes because it’s my New Obsession

JD: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Ronnie: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. JD: Absolutely not.

Ronnie: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. JD: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Ronnie: Bye JD! Bye Heather! Bye Heather! Bye Heather! Bye JD! Heather: You said ‘bye JD’ twice. Ronnie: I like JD.

Ronnie: Looking left cause you don’t treat me right JD: Looking right because you left Heather: Looking up cause you let me down Heather: Looking down cause you fucked up Heather: What is wrong with you guys

Ronnie: Look. I may not be a saint, but it's not like I’ve killed anybody. I’m not an arsonist. I’ve never found a wallet outside of an IHOP and thought about returning it but saw the owner lived out of state so just took the cash and dropped the wallet back on the ground. JD: Okay, that's really specific, and that makes me think that you definitely did do that.

Ronnie, pointing: May I sit there? JD: That's my lap Ronnie: That doesn't answer my question, JD.

Ronnie: JD… Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor? JD: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned. Ronnie: Ronnie: I wrote sanitize, JD.

Ronnie: Change is inedible. JD: Don't you mean inevitable? Ronnie, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

Ronnie: Ok, maybe playing ‘whose family is most dysfunctional’ wasn’t the best idea we’ve had. JD's been crying in the bathroom for an hour. We can’t get them out…

JD: I can explain. Ronnie: Can you? JD: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

Veronica: So what do you do? JD: I work in genetic research, and I'm currently trying to eliminate all Cancers. Veronica: Wow, impressive. JD: Then I'll move on to Leos.

Veronica: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail JD: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police

Veronica: What is your biggest weakness? JD: I can be uncooperative. Veronica: Okay, can you give me an example? JD: No.

Veronica: What the fuck is wrong with you?! JD: Wow, you could start with a 'good morning'. Veronica: Good morning. What the fuck is wrong with you?!

JD: Accidentally hits Veronica in the face JD: Trying to decide between saying 'I’m fucking sorry' and 'Are you okay' JD: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?! Ronnie: What’s wrong with you?!

Veronica: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE JD: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially Veronica, desperately, as JD bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE JD: Oh! B positive. Veronica: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE JD:

Veronica: How do I deal with my enemies? JD: Kill them Veronica: That's a bit extreme, I was hoping for a more passive solution JD: Kill them only a little?

Veronica: Go to Hell JD, tearing up: I wish I could

JD: Someone will die. Ronnie: Of fun!

Veronica: Is something burning? JD: Just my love for you. Veronica: JD, the toaster is on fire.

Veronica: JD, stop! This isn't you, you've gone mad with power! JD: Well of course I have. JD: Have you ever tried going mad without power? JD: It's boring.

JD: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died- Ronnie: Twelve, actually. JD: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that? Ronnie: Yours! JD: That's right: no one's.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies! A couple about daily posting, some about twst boys.

Anonymous asked:

I hope you don’t feel rushed to post every alternate day. It’s your blog, and if you ever want to take breaks, please take as much time as you want! Always prioritise yourself first! Anyway, that aside, thank you for bestowing upon this fandom such incredible work!

Thank you so much, Anon! This is very sweet, I am very happy to hear that!

Don’t worry about it: we love this blog too much to let ourselves get burnt out by it, so whenever we’ll need it, we’ll take breaks or skip days. Fortunately, you guys are very understanding of our circumstances, so it’s all good <3

Anonymous asked:

I did see the tail post (though I had to check twt before realizing it was a tail... I didn't see the caption.) You just tend to upload multiple times every day (now that I think about it, how do you work with all the art? I want a job with that much free time! ...Sleep is important despite what Idia would say) so I was worried. Glad to know your ok!

-(Overly(?)-)Anxious Anon

P.S. Sorry if I asked to many personal questions: boundaries are not my strong suit. Feel free to ignore them, and please tell me if I make you uncomfortable. I really like your work, and I would hate to make you feel uncomfortable by asking something too personal.

It's okay, Anon; I understand! It must be weird when someone who posts multiple times per day suddenly doesn't post anything, but it really isn't anything to be worried about. It also still feels a little bit weird to skip even a day after that twitter thing that happened in May on my fucking birthday. It was a month-long forced break, and it still haunts us lol Your questions and concerns are perfectly fine and not out of any boundaries.

I draw a lot and pretty much all the time: I start the day by drawing for work (commissions and such, up to six hours), then I take a break to write replies (one hour, or sometimes more, on weekends it can go up to two), then I prepare something for us to post (2-3 hours) + draw for fun for the rest of the day. I also have long sketching sessions whenever I can, and it usually results with a bunch of simple sketches. And we always end up having some stuff to post. Well, usually it’s too much stuff lol Fortunately, I don’t have to ever think about what to post because Katsu does pretty much 100% of our posting. Because of that, I can focus on what I love to do most – you guessed it, drawing. I can’t stress enough how much it helps me out woah.

We usually post replies at around tea time in our time zone (well, Katsu’s), and we post my art ~three hours before going to bed, so to us, this posting feels like once a day. Things for ko-fi and my private twitter are posted in the morning, but if ko-fi posts are twice per day, then one of them is in the evening for us... It’s a lot to keep in mind lol But sometimes we have a couple of things to post, ofc, so these go an hour before our usual posting time so that we won’t replace it with something fewer people are going to like. This is why I said that it helps me out a lot...

I am pretty sure that I am an obsessive weirdo when it comes to drawing, but to be honest, I’ve always been this way. Don’t worry though, I take good care of myself and after a certain point stop drawing for the day; plus, I never draw when I’m tired, and I would never force myself when my back or hand hurt (that doesn’t really happen btw).

And I know that we probably won’t be able to post twst every day for the rest of our lives (for starters, we won’t be into twst forever, as sad as it is…), but for now we can and we’re having fun with it, so I’m very happy about it! Thank you for enjoying our stuff; I say it all the time, but I mean it.

It’s going to sound cheesy, but for now I feel very happy and lucky to be able to draw so much and post so often. With the help of people around me (especially Katsu), with your support, it’s been really great. I want to keep doing it while it lasts and while I can.

Anonymous asked:

Yes, I’d like his number. But considering how old he is maybe smoke signals are more up his valley

(this is about Lilia)

Apparently he likes written letters, Anon, so maybe it will work just as nicely lol

Anonymous asked:

Great. I now low-key ship desperate/thirsty ghost and rook

Well, let’s be honest. Rook would.

[munsonsduchess]

Master of Puppets

summary: you and eddie have a gig coming up that you've been looking forward to for months, the only problem is eddie's still injured w/c: 1,950 warnings: injury mention, swearing, pet names (baby, honey) a/n: i know the gig was ozzy with metallica supporting but i just liked this better, i also have no idea if this is actually how you get backstage at a show i just know it's a stereotype

this is part of the god and goddess of hellfire series, the rest of which you can find on my masterlist

if you enjoyed this please reblog and or leave a comment, it really helps me out 💖

(moodboard by me)

Someone once said “the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry” you can’t remember who said it exactly or what mice have to do with anything but you more than understand plans going awry. 

It had been almost three weeks since you’d learnt about the inter dimensional hellscape known as thr “Upside Down” that mirrored Hawkins. Almost three weeks since facing off against monsters with D&D names. 

Since you’d learnt that Eddie’s non stop playing of the new Metallica track had been him learning to play it, in what could only be described as “the most metal concert, ever”.

Of course the concert was short lived and both you and Dustin Henderson had been the ones to find Eddie after his ‘heroic moment’ of drawing the bats away from the trailer, in that moment you had honestly thought you’d lose Eddie forever. That this would be it. Thank God for Steve Harrington and his lifeguard training. You’d never been happier to see the other boy in your life. 

You’d all ended up in the hospital after that with various cuts and scrapes, Nancy insisted someone check Steve over as her Upside Down first aid could only do so much, you and Robin had to drag Dustin kicking and screaming to have his foot looked at, he’d refused treatment until he knew Eddie was going to be ok. 

You’d say with him as the doctors looked at the boys foot and your shoulder, you’d both sustained your injuries jumping back into the trailer after Eddie but told the doctors it had been the earth quakes. Easiest thing to blame it on really. One severely sprained ankle and dislocated shoulder later it was time to talk to the police. 

Nancy to her credit had already been running interference and Robin had called Wayne to let him know what was going on. The staff at the hospital refused to let Chief Powell and his men restrain Eddie to the bed, claiming it would only aggravate his wounds even more. 

It took three days for Eddie to wake up and that’s when the shady looking guys from the ‘government’ stepped in. Everyone else seemed to know them and assured both you and Eddie that things would be ok. Just sign the NDA, take the hush money and don’t talk about what happened  to anyone outside the group. Ever. 

The government guys made up a story about an escaped serial killer Henry Creel and how he’d kidnapped eddie and was planning on framing him for the murders like he’d framed his father all those years ago. They insisted Eddie was a victim as much as anyone else had been, that he had tried to protect Chrissy and that’s when Creel had kidnapped him. 

Apparently in all the chaos Chief Hopper had come back, he hadn’t died in the Starcourt Fire after all but ended up in a Russian prison fighting other monsters with D&D names. Nancy promised to explain the whole thing to you from the start. Hopper had backed up the government's story and that was that apparently. Eddie was a free man. You and Wayne could take him home. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

You were sitting in your trailer and looking at the concert tickets in your hand. You and Eddie had scrimped and saved and sold for months to save up for these. They were the holy grail, Metallica in concert within driving distance of Hawkins. Indy was an hour and a half away and ordinarily that was nothing, this time around however with Eddie still having to change his dressings every few days and your shoulder still needing pain medication when it would flare up neither of you were exactly in the best shape,

"What am I gonna do Wayne? You know he had his heart set on this" you asked the older man, he'd taken some time off work to help look after Eddie, "but, is he really in the state to go?" 

"I dunno much about that whole scene but maybe if you could make sure nobody jostled him too much?" 

"Yeah no that's not likely" you had memories of coming back from gigs and being covered in bruises just from being on the outside of the pit never mind being in the pit itself, which Eddie would absolutely want to do.

The High School had given Eddie his GED which he counted as graduating, even if he didn't get to walk the stage or flip the principal off and the show was now a special graduation/survival thing and it would absolutely break Eddie's heart if you couldn't go. 

You were really gonna need to think this one through. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The closer it got to the date of the show the more animated Eddie became. Blasting his Metallica tapes at all hours of the day, speculating on what they'd play, how long they'd play for, if there would be any encore. 

You had an appointment a few days before hand with Dr Owens, the government's Upside Down specialist and you planned to ask him what he thought,

"Well I suppose if you were able to get to a place where you wouldn't be jostled around too much" he'd said, "aren't there seats at this rock show?" 

"I mean yeah but our tickets are standing, we wanted to be as close to the stage as possible" 

"Hmm well that is a problem" 

"What's a problem?" Eddie asked, he'd been off with a nurse for some tests and you'd thought you'd have more time to talk to Dr Owens,

"We'll talk about it at home. Thanks Doc, see you soon" 

You tried to walk out of the hospital without looking back at Eddie who was following after you. You knew if you looked back he'd have a confused and probably hurt look on his face, you'd gone behind his back about something and that's something you never did. 

It wasn't until you'd gotten back into Wayne's truck, it was less conspicuous than the van, and Eddie took the keys from the ignition so you'd have no choice but to talk to him,

"Eddie, I know you've had your heart set on this gig but I don't think it's a good idea. Not when you're still healing" 

"Baby, I know you're worried about me but you can't keep me from everything. You know I can be careful and I promise you I'll stay out of the pit, we'll find a spot away from the main crowd, I'll do anything you want, just please don't take this away from me" 

You looked at Eddie's face and you could see how much this meant to him. With everything you both went through over the last few weeks, could you really deny him something? 

"Ok. Yeah. We'll figure it out" 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

You weren't sure how you were going to do this. Wayne had offered to drive you both to Indy and back, he would figure something out to fill his time during the show and he'd call the payphone outside the arena after two hours figuring that would probably be about the right time. There were a few things he could spend his time doing. 

So you loaded up the truck and started on your way. Eddie of course bringing all his tapes with him to play during the journey, Wayne lasted about forty five minutes before he couldn't listen to Metallica, Dio or Sabbath anymore and switched over to a local country station. Which wasn't terrible, it wasn't great either but Wayne was the one driving so you weren't about to complain about the music. 

The station faded out the further out you got from Hawkins and you'd all compromised on a rock station broadcasting from the city which played a little of everything to keep everyone happy. Metal was after all an acquired taste and Wayne did not acquire it, no matter how long Eddie had lived with him.

The closer you got to the arena once you hit the city the more people in leather and battle jackets you saw, teased hair, heavy makeup, spikes everywhere. These were your people, you didn't get this kind of community in Hawkins and being amongst similar minded people was always a rare treat. 

Wayne dropped you both off and you headed towards the gates, Eddie practically vibrating with excitement. You'd both joined the queue and quickly struck up conversations with others in the line, sharing stories about where you were all from, what your favourite songs were, there was a sense of electricity in the air that you only found in situations like this. It was a welcome change from dread and despair. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The arena was packed. People were everywhere, buying merch, drinks, gathering in groups and talking excitedly. As you and Eddie moved through the crowd you were able to find a spot left of the main stage where you'd probably be safe from the worst of the undulating swarm of metalheads. As the support act started, a small local band that had made good and were selling their record at the merch table, the crowd kicked off. You felt someone knock against your shoulder and winced, it wasn't too bad so you were still more or less content with the spot you'd chosen. 

However, that was just the support act. Things really kicked off when Metallica took the stage, people were screaming, cheering, it was an absolute mob and suddenly your safe spot wasn't as safe as it had been. You scanned the crowd, looking for a gap, somewhere you and Eddie could move to and that's when you spotted the guy at the side of the stage talking to some girls. 

You made your decision there and then. You grabbed Eddie's hand and dragged him after you, as the two girls who had been standing there moments ago moved away with sad expressions you took their place,

"Hey, you've got backstage passes?" you yelled to be heard over the noise of the band and the crowd,

"Yeah honey I'll get you backstage, you want one for your boyfriend there too?" the guy asked, with a lazy sly smile

"Can you give me two?" 

"Sure can honey, if you can do something for me" 

You didn't wait for the guy to ask and immediately dropped Eddie's hand to use both so you could lift up your shirt and bra exposing yourself to the guy. You left your shirt up for a minute or so and then dropped it again,

"Is that worth one or two?" 

The guy didn't even respond, just handed you the two passes and stepped aside. You grabbed Eddie's hand again and pulled him behind you,

"That was insane!" he yelled, "I can't believe you just flashed that guy!" 

"We'll be safer back here, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna need my sling again for a few days after that" you laughed rubbing your shoulder. 

Eddie didn't have the capacity to reply as a familiar opening riff began on stage and his attention was pulled there, 

"Oh my god I can't believe they're playing it!" Eddie yelled, he pulled you closer to the stage as Master of Puppets continued playing. Eddie mirrored the band as he banged his head along with the music, you'd been worried about this show for weeks and how you and Eddie were going to manage but it really seemed as though everything had worked out.

True you'd shown a strange man your breasts but Eddie now had a chance to meet his idols. So you were counting it as a win and you both really needed a win. 

Fuck Vecna. Fuck the Upside Down. You lived. 

Taglist: @pillow-titties @munsonology @thegirlblogstuff @boomhauer @prettyboyeddiemunson @hellfireeddie6 @that-lame-ghoul9000 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @anxiousstark @ruinedbythehobbit @winnifredburkleismyhero @manda-panda-monium @insertcoolnameherethanks @aftermidnightwriting @mcbeanzontoast

If you want to be added/removed let me know!

[whentherewerebicycles]

well immobilizing my entire arm actually really helped for the first two or three hours (thank you for the suggestion, t!!) but the median nerve pressure got too intense and I spent the rest of the night in agonizing pain as per usual. but oh my god only one more night before I get to see the specialist. I am also getting acupuncture and cupping done again tonight so I’m PRAYING it brings a tiny bit of relief to get me through this last stretch. the pain overnight is just like… I just naively didn’t know you could be in that much pain and not have it be an emergency situation lol. like if I thought the ER could do anything for me besides refer me to an ortho surgeon I’d have been there a week ago. how do people live with chronic pain!!!! aaaaa ok sorry mornings are rough because I feel so fragile and raw from the night. but I am doing the things to address it and that is all I can do!! I have to leave the terrifying night behind me and move forward into the day!!!

here we go:

6-7:30 work emails and day planning

7:30-8ish do a quick grocery run to grab something I can take to work for lunch

8-9ish shower/get ready, make breakfast

9:30 leave for work—CALL CAR DEALER ON THE WAY

10-1 work session (no meetings)—draw up faculty roles & responsibilities, email about JA funding, write workshop description, pay student loan bill, edit LB essays

1-2 staff mtg

2:15-2:45 student advising

3-4 CB mtg

4-6 drive home, walk dogs, make something for dinner (I can’t chop anything so cooking is out 🫠)

6-7 acupuncture appt save me… save me acupuncture appt…

try to sleep early

[maryjanewatson]

🎁 💕 💡 🎨

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

oh boy. uh…so many. for the purposes of this question though i’ll share a bit that i have not been able to stop thinking about since i wrote it. now if only i could finish the thing it’s in…

“I heard you had a wife back in England,” Gyro says, pausing in the middle of his sentence to lick his fingers. “You miss her?”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing. He blinks, head still swimming. “She’s dead.”

“That isn’t what I asked!”

“It was a stupid question.”

“Did you like her? Or was it one of those arranged ones?”

“It suited our purposes. I don’t—“

“What the hell kind of answer is that?! You were married! Swore an oath to each other! And that’s all you have to say about it?”

Gyro’s eyes are huge, opened too wide. He’d paused in the middle of cleaning his fingers, the smallest one still glistening with spit. His lipstick’s almost entirely gone, only a faint smudge of hideous green at the corners of his mouth. This close, Diego can see the hairs he’d missed shaving, the shadow of a mustache growing after a day without a razor. Traces of slickness still cling to his chin, his cheeks.

He’s ugly like this, Diego thinks.

“You’ve never married,” Diego says.

they’re so gross. they’re so…gross…and i’m so obsessed with the concept of this conversation i have to spend 900 years thinking about it.

💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

honestly it’s this elden ring one

i really enjoyed writing it and i still think the d-rogier situation is SO entertaining. i really like the vibe that i managed to capture with this one and feel like it’s tonally consistent and fitting with the style of the setting, it maintains that fun fromsoft ambiguity and i just am really happy with it! yeah!

💡How many WIPs do you currently have?

uhhh. i’ve got…3 diegyro oneshots at various stages of progress, a separate document full of potential diegyro oneshot wip ideas, then i’ve got the two…three. three longfics (technically collaborations with per!) that are extensively bulletpointed and i think about them often but are likely to never be finished. one day maybe…i would love to bring at least 2 of them into reality. one is just kind of a steel ball run retelling/au situation that doesn’t have much to do with shipping, the second is a plot-heavy sequel to that retelling and it’s kind of a diegyro manifesto in a way. and the third is a diegyro “bad end” au that turns out…not so bad? it just takes years to get to that point.

i also keep thinking about writing a bloodborne au but that’s in the oneshots folder. i just started a bodyswap fic…sigh.

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

oh jeez. i think rogier taking off the gloves or d trying to cover the armor’s eyes from the elden ring one would be fun. there’s some bits from some of my diegyro wips that i would loveeeee to see fanart of but they’d have to be finished in order for that to happen…anything to do with the corpse eyes and the doubling is always awesome though i get so excited. ugh or the diegyro nasty woundcare situation i’ve got cooking in a wip…or ok this isn’t my fic it’s one of per’s but the scene with dream gyro kneeling down to kiss diego and also take his head is one i’ve wanted to draw for YEARSSSSS but haven’t managed to yet.

thank you for asking this was fun. i hope you enjoy diego gyro hour

[soullikethesea]

Rambles + Bf stuff + TW suicidality, abuse

I spent four hours today with C. We had a good time and I liked our arms brushing, but I am pretty sure I cannot do this. I think if I can handle anything, it will have to be someone who’s queer and also not a colleague. I accidentally crossed my boundaries so much that by the time I got home I was pretty much melting down. I was really overstimulated and the suicidal thoughts got really really loud again. I also told him that I’m in therapy, which I now feel too vulnerable about (but C has also told me about having been in therapy before, so I don’t think he’s really judging). I tried drawing a bit about how I felt. Mostly turned into angry scribbles. After taking a med and watching the suicidal thoughts go rampant, I started looking through/for some ideas to make things better inside. The smallest things that could make things better were to have some water and food. Then it hit me that most of these feelings are probably from M. Cried a bunch. Felt it mostly in my throat. Trying to “belong” at work is triggering as f. Plus the Summer-y temperatures = emotional flashbacks to the Hunger Holidays. I also watched a show the other day about a girl growing up in a commune in the eighties. That hit super close to home. Crazy adults, utterly lonely children. The girl in the series ends up calling a helpline for children and builds up a special relationship with a man working there. It was very very much resembling how my relationship with Bf was when I was a child. “I’ll give you my personal phone number and you can call me whenever, OK?” In the series it’s coming from a place of actual care and I think it was similar for Bf, but for me now it screams danger. On the Summer hunger holidays, M. used to listen to “Time of Dying” by Three Days Grace a lot. She would hold Bf in mind and that helped to hold on. On the ground I lay, motionless in pain I can see my life flashing before my eyes Did I fall asleep? Is this all a dream? Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare [Pre-Chorus] I will not die  (I will not die) I will survive [Chorus] I will not die, I'll wait here for you I feel alive when you're beside me I will not die, I'll wait here for you In my time of dying [Verse 2] On this bed I lay, losing everything I can see my life passing me by Was it all too much? Or just not enough? Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare [Pre-Chorus] I will not die (I will not die) I will survive That is how I survived. My phone (with money on it for a couple of texts) was my lifeline. And yet there was no time to tell Bf or my mum what was happening. I knew it would only worry them and there was nothing they could do either. Having Bf was essential, and now I can’t get close to anyone because it feels like that is going to put me in grave danger eventually.

[fizziepopangel]

A Serbian Film (2010, horror/crime/mystery)

I spent 1 hour and 44 minutes of my life watching this film… While I am deeply disturbed and probably will be for quite some time, I must say that A Serbian Film is an extremely well done piece of work. It took a bit of time before I was able to find somewhere to watch the film with english subtitles, but once I did, boi…  

Ok, so getting right into it, I was slightly annoyed that there’s no translated version of this film but I’m not gonna pretend I don’t get why that is. One version of this movie is most definitely enough, so while I was a bit frustrated that I had to read subtitles the entirety of the movie, I was actually pretty impressed with what I watched despite how deeply it got under my skin. Labeled as a crime/mystery horror film, A Serbian Film was shockingly well shot and the acting was actually really impressive given the content being shot. With the content being centered around the loss of innocence and corruption and featuring children in some very heavy and upsetting ways, I have to applaud the acting done here.  

With its story centered around a serbian porn star and the weird, creepy new “artistic” movie he’s supposed to make in order to set him and his little family up for life… But dude doesn’t know anything about this movie outside of the fact that its very much within his wheelhouse and that a friend and former co star of his trusts the secretive, smooth talking director, and while we as an audience are never given a number, he’s to be paid handsomely for his role in this “movie”. I mean, they never even give him a script or let him see where he’ll be shooting or with who he’ll be acting with until it's happening, they just put an earpiece in his ear and talk him through it. As you can probably guess, this results in some surprises for him when he’s just thrust into situations he is uncomfortable with doesn’t want to be a part of, essentially telling the director that he draws the line at what would be torture porn. Now, fast forward to when dude (Milos) tries to quit and they get real weird with him. Like…. They really roofied dude on the 18th and had him running around town on the 21st  trying to figure out why he was covered in blood, couldn’t find his family, and couldn’t remember the last three days. As the movie begins to show flashes of his memories and he slowly begins piecing things together, it becomes clear that his missing time is rather…. upsetting to say the least. And when I say that finding out what happened within his blackout period was fucked…. It was fucked. 

Although I didn’t tap out during the course of this movie, this was definitely a movie I could’ve used trigger warnings and breaks to get through. The plot and the way it all kept me on the edge of my seat, constantly thinking “oof… ok, but the worst has to be over now, things can’t get worse…” is something I haven’t had a movie do since I watched the 3rd installment of The Human Centipede trilogy (although that was far less well done on many, many levels). While I can praise the acting and say that I loved the twists of the plot that I hadn’t seen coming, seeing this film has really reinforced my belief that a movie being impressive on any level doesn’t mean it warrants more than one viewing of the film, and trust me, if you watch this, its definitely a movie that only needs to be watched once.

[polkadotpatterson]

Hi hello for the ask game: 🍓🫐☀️ (with sun being, if you want - two quotes from an earlier and recent work respectively that are thematically linked/reprises of each other 👀)

🍓 favorite poetic quote from a wip

honestly I feel like 90% of my poetic ability goes into my PMD fic which I have not touched in ages but I swear I do fully intend to finish it bc it's very dear to my heart and I'm pretty darn proud of it. anyway here's a bit from the half-finished chapter that's been sitting in my drafts since uuuuhhhhh. don't worry about it

And so you climb. Past the clinging flowers and the skeletons of trees, past the soft blue-green streams, past rocks the colour of lightning that grow more jagged and angry the further you go. And all the while, the vortex of clouds tightens around you, the dark gray-purple-black of Zapdos’ rage throbbing like a bruise on the sky. There's thunder beneath your feet and thunder above your head and thunder in your mind and the world is nothing but thunder, but you keep going.

🫐 a line from a published work that you’re proud of, but no one’s mentioned yet - or if you can’t think of one, an underrated line in general

well since we're already on the subject of PMD, here's a little bit about how mesmerizing oceans can be, just for you :)

The sea. The sea. It stretches out in front of you forever, a limitless expanse of water fading into the horizon. Your pond looks like an insignificant puddle next to the ever-changing ocean, this bright blue world that you could explore for the rest of your life and never see all of. Before you know it, you're right up at the edge of the cliff, staring down at the clouds as they glide across the water to join the waves in a hypnotic dance. You want to dive in and wrap yourself in all of it, let it surround you like a blanket. You want to leap through the waves until you’ve forgotten what it's like to walk on land. You want to dissolve into seafoam and fade into the deep. You-- You feel a nudge on your shoulder.

the pmd world is beautiful and also kinda messed up and that's a very fun combo to write :)

☀️ asker’s choice of published work: two quotes from an earlier and recent work respectively that are thematically linked/reprises of each other

hehe nice sun 2 reference :) well ok how can I see Themes and Reprise and not go right for Dot's rhythm. I looooove incorporating that into their pov, not just the literal recurring one-two-three but the way they often think and talk in three words or sentences at a time, and how at first they do it more when they're hyperfixated on pitching or going full No Thoughts Only Blaseball, but gradually come to both do it less and also reclaim it as their own thing and not something forced on them by the gods... yeah ok this is gonna get a bit long let me slap a readmore on it lol

there are soooo many instances to pull from here but I think the best parallel is probably from over and over and then over again, where they spend the whole fic feeling guilty and trapped in being unable to do anything but be a Perfect Pitcher even when it's the absolute last thing their team needs from them, helpless against the power of the gods as they watch the innings tick on and their teammates in more and more danger, spending hours of practice afterwards trying to not be perfect for once and the gods simply won't let them...

One. Two. Three. The blaseball makes a perfect rhythm even outside of the game, always hitting the wall within the boundaries of the ever-present rectangle they can see in their mind, strikeout after strikeout after strikeout. Dot reaches out fingers to draw the ball back to them after each throw, not needing to move from their spot. One. Two. Three. Perfect. Chosen. Unstoppable. One. Two. Three. Heartless. Ruthless. Unstoppable. What does Jaylen do, when everything is pounding loud in her head and the world is too big and too small all at once and everyone stares at her with hate and fear and she knows that her hands and her life aren't hers anymore and probably never will be again? Dot doubts that the answer is “more pitching”. One. Two. Three. Throw it somewhere else. Anywhere else. Stop doing the same thing over and over and over again.  Why? the gods demand. This is perfection. This is what you are. This is a gift that many would kill to have. You think too much of killing, Dot tells them. One. Two. Three.

versus it’s how I know that I’m still here where Dot has finally been unlearning their whole I'm Just A Pitcher thing and with the alternative being losing everyone they love, they finally fight and take their power and use it for something different, use it to tear holes in reality and come home :')

“You are not the only gods who gave me powers.” The squid? The squid is nothing. Without us, you are nothing, too. “Then I would rather be nothing. Take my stars. Take my pitching. Take my life. Take whatever else you want, but you can't take me. And you can't take my family, either.”  You know not what deal you are making. It will not end well for you. It is better to give in. Almost there. They’re almost there. They kick and push and struggle against the tide, watch the right world come back into focus. Almost there. Just a few more strokes. Reach the shore. One. “This is non-negotiable. I am taking what is mine. Myself.” Two. “I won’t let you steal me anymore. I have learned a thing or two about stealing. More than even you know.” Three. Stop that! Someone must take your place. You cannot stay in this world. “I'm through with being told what I can't do. I'm through with being dragged around. I'm through with all of it.” The field is within reach now, their teammates standing confused and concerned under the Dallas sky, the right Dallas sky. Dot had never thought of it as home, but they realize now how foolish they’ve been; everything in this world is home, all of it, and they’re through taking that for granted. You cannot run from us forever. We will find you. We --  “Don't talk to me in threes. This is my rhythm now. Not yours, never again.”

you tell em Dot!!! this is a pretty incoherent post lol but I went into it in more detail here back in the day

[dragoon811]

My potato hasn’t done shit at the house all week (ok, longer). He has 8.5+ hours to do it. He has no other obligations except once a month he has a dr’s appointment. Oh and once a week his mommy comes and “helps him”. (Ie makes doom boxes.)

I tell him what’s for lunch. What dinner is. This man sleeps almost 14hrs, wakes up, had breakfast, and lies down again til lunch.

So ofc I’m doing it the cleaning on Thursday night, before his mommy comes, because I don’t want to hear her nagging. I don’t want to deal with any of this.

Because he can’t find where anything goes in the house. Never mind we’ve lived here over 8 years. We haven’t moved anything in almost 6 years. Almost everything is fucking labeled. Really lost? He could send me a pic and ask. Nope.

He’s wandered around today when I dragged him out, half-shaven, because “his shaver is full”. I text him his to-do list every day. His list should take 1.5-2hrs. He doesn’t do it. I have to remind/tell/threaten him to shower.

I’m exhausted. I’m at the point where I want to throw everything out because nothing makes me happy. I want to set fire to the apartment, take my girls, and walk away…but I can’t afford to rent even a 1 bedroom place anywhere nearby. Hell, if I could afford it, I’d take a professional deep-cleaner and organizer crew to help me feel like the slate is clean. (And they can take the potato with them with they go.)

I haven’t gone through doom boxes because I’m overwhelmed and exhausted. I wish I had a village, but Covid and him have basically torched everything. I barely have energy for my phone friends. I try to talk to one friend once every other week for about 10min as I drive home. I send memes down the black hole to my best friend, who is also burnt tf out.

When I kicked his ass out for three weeks on Easter it was great. Exhausting but great. My mom comes in 48 days and I can’t fucking wait.

I wake up. I make lunches and pack the diaper bag and backpack. I make sure the library book goes back to school on time. I make sure plans are made and the girls are active. Write lists and grocery shop and meal prep. Play with the girls and draw with them and read to them and plan activities and outings…and get them to bed while he snores. Get them up and dressed while he snores. I do dishes at midnight and vacuum and carpet clean hours after I’ve asked him to do it. I presoak laundry and fold it and make videos to tell him whose is whose because it’s sooooo hard to tell a toddler 3T size from a 10/12 large kid size.

I’m so tired. I’m trying to use this pre-period week of productivity because when it hits I’ll crumple like wet tissue paper (but the kind with obnoxious chunky glitter on it, at least).

I’m at the point where I don’t know if I’d cry if he was hit by a bus and died. If I did it would probably be from sheer fucking relief.

[rewordthis]

🌼Spring-Summer☀️ Update🌻 Hello! Hello! How is my SouHaru nation doing this fine day? I hope you’re all doing great!😊 I mean, do you even remember this blog at all… 😅Ah~ I’m terribly sorry for the lack of word on the ongoing fics but RL is a mess. Haha🥲 Alright, I just need to state this, first, so that I can remember what an idiot I am… I managed to spent three whole days, from Saturday to Monday, scrolling through art in tumblr with only a couple hours of sleep in between and at the third day I was like; ‘Ok, I feel so freaking motivated to draw right now!’ and picked up my sketchbook, right? You, guys… 😓 the minute I opened a blank page, I stared at it and went: ‘Right, now what? Uh… Oh! Let’s try X character’s face!’ and not that character did I not manage to draw… but not even an egg could I map out!!! 😱 And what did I do, you ask? I picked back up my phone to scroll down some more art on tumblr for yet one more day! Of course! Ha! Ah, but then it hit me— I was so sleepy that after that I had a ten-hour nap that broke the cycle. Pff!~😅 But not to drag this any further, I was in a really bad headspace since the end of March and this was like the lowest of my lows… So… Yeah… Anyway, now onto the actual update…

On Thursday, I had some progress with a Free! WIP I was stuck for a long — looong (not gonna say exactly how long, it’s embarrassing) — time and(!) a Jujutsu Kaisen WIP the day before. I’m so glad!? ☺️ I really hope I can keep this momentum going and finish these two stories within the next couple months, because I’m tired going back over dozens of WIPs again and again. 😮‍💨 Plus, it doesn’t help that I keep coming up with new project ideas. 😬

By the way, June is almost here and on July Jujutsu Kaisen second season is coming, too, so I’m excited for it, as well! Even if I have been spoiler-ed for it… Still, I tried keeping away from spoilers as much as possible. Let’s see how that will go.😗 If I can’t get surprised by anything, I’ll get sour, though. (Just saying…)

Oh! I almost forgot! I, also, watched Free!💦 The Final Stroke part 2!✨ Sousuke is such a beautiful character— I was giggling at his every scene! 🤭 And we, SouHaru’s, finally got it on canon that Sousuke carried Haruka in his arms — I’ll be screaming this every time! — (because it was impossible to mount him for a piggyback ride with the way Haruka was sleeping!😉) to the infirmary. 🤩😍🤗🫠 I’m so moved and pleased by this~ 😌🥹🥰 Sure, I would have loved to see it animated, but well… it is KyoAni we’re talking about here, so it was a surprise they even let us have it as much as mentioned, in the first place…😗 (What do we have all this fanart of Sousuke carrying Haruka around, after all, if not for filling the gaps in canon! Right?!😋) I don’t know about you, guys, but I’m glad for the crumbs we managed to get this time around!😤 It is a vindication in and of itself that Sousuke is the one who can carry Haruka in his arms, because he has such a huge build and is so strong compared to everyone else — even Makoto! 🤗🫠🤗 Hm! KyoAni, finally made my boy right and that’s all I want to keep from this series. 😎😘 Cheers!🥂✨ p.s.: As always, inbox 📥 is open for everyone and anyone who wants to fangirl over SouHaru or just Sousuke or just Haruka… or any character, really. (Please, just not Rin…)

Wish you people well and a great week start~ 😘