#they’re so mitski coded

[rippedpatches]

when Shauna is Jackie’s mutt. She doesn’t deserve a bone like a good dog would; she hardly deserves scraps as is. Shauna is a neglected dog sitting outside waiting for Jackie to let her back in, but oh. Jackies with Jeff? all of her, gone? Where’s room for Shauna? Oh, there is none is there. She’s a bad dog. one who bites? one who bit before she got her teeth removed. She can no longer bite, but oh, her claws are just as bad? aren’t they. aren't they. aren’t they?

[starrbitez]

Class of 2013 - Mitski

Mom,

I’m tired

Can I sleep in your house tonight?

Mom, is it alright

If I stay for a year or two?

Mom, I'll be quiet

It would be just to sleep at night

And I'll leave once I figure out

How to pay for my own life too

Mom, would you wash my back?

This once, and then we can forget

And I'll leave what I'm chasing

For the other girls to pursue

Mom, am I still young?

Can I dream for a few months more?

Sibling trauma bond

[labyrinthians]

it would be a hundred times easier

if we were young again

[tqwnw]

i want you.

[uzi-x33]

siggghhhhh its so them i fear🙏🙏 once more to see you- mitski

[hibiscusspunweb]

Gwiles / Ghostflower headcanons!🌻🩰

(This is my first post on Tumblr, so please excuse any mistakes!)

1: Gwen’s love language is physical touch so she’s super cuddly. Miles compares her to a very affectionate cat.

2: Gwen tried to pick up drawing once, and Miles taught her how to draw pointe shoes. That’s the only thing she can draw really well.

3: Gwen prefers rainy weather, and Miles prefers sunny weather.

4: They have web-swinging competitions whenever they visit the other’s universe. Gwen always wins.

5: Miles is a few inches taller than Gwen. Gwen is 5'7 and Miles is 5'10/5'11 (as in ATSV).

6: Gwen can cook desserts good. Miles in general can cook good.

7: Gwen definitely wears silver.

8: They’re so “Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart” by Mitski. Specifically the “Well I don’t blame you if you want to bury me in your memories, I’m not the girl I ought to be,” line.

9: Gwen describes Miles’ scent as apples and Miles describes Gwen’s scent as a warm vanilla.

10: Miles likes pop and rap, and Gwen likes indie and rock, including sub genres of the two.

(He’s so awkward in this clip.)

[nicomoon69]

dickroy are so exes that aren’t over each other but can’t stay together to make it work either

[electricxmayhem]

deleting that mitski succession post because none of you can read

[leesartstuff]

“I bet on losing dogs, I know they’re losing and I pay for my place, by the ring. “

Me when mitski

Anyways originally I was gonna do this format with pynch when I got this idea, but then I rembered this scene existed (at the end of the Raven king when the demon is unmaking Ronan and right before Gansey dies), and I was like oh. Well that’s the one then.

Anyways this song is so Gansey toward Ronan coded and I wanted everyone to feel my immense pain when listening to this song and remembering that Gansey died to save Ronan from the night wash. Plus just the fact that Gansey never gave up on him no matter how many times everyone (including Ronan himself) did.

Also ignore the messiness, I was motivated enough to make it, not enough to make it good

[st2r-b0y]

“Once more to see you.”

They’re ’re so mitski coded omg

[gardenbastard]

They’re so My Love Mine all Mine by Mitski coded

[moonraccoon14]

mitski’s me and my husband is so old cherik in dofp coded

like they’re about to be killed by the sentinels and they’ve just watched everyone in their lives die but hey they’re finally on the same side for once and they’ve worked things out and they’re holding hands as erik slowly dies in charles’s arms

[kevinsdsy]

Hi how are you? I hope you are doing well

Can you name me some of the songs that remind you of kevin?

AHHH I HAD KEPT THIS IN THE INBOXES BC U SENT THIS WHEN I WAS JUST MAKING PLAYLISTS FOR AFTG but i’ve been SOOO busy i never got around to it. so even though i don’t have my playlists ready i can give you a few of my thoughts.

anyways before i go on a rant here are the playlists :)) the first one is specifically songs that remind me of him and the second playlist is songs i think he would listen to :)) both need touching up, but for now this is what i have.

so nora has said kevin listens to classical music which I LOVE for him sadly i feel like i don’t listen a lot to it to give my own takes and song choices on it :(( but definitely something i want to get into one day and then i’m sure i’ll make a whole playlist of it

anyways moving on to music i do know

i think kevin listens to the neighbourhood like in my mind the neighbourhood is THE PERFECT vibe for how i envision kevin

and i mean this in a way like “i think kevin would listen to this”

same goes for florence + the machine but so many of the songs are either him or jean or ravens coded it’s insane and also so many are foxes coded too i LOVE interpreting f+tm for aftg

anyways king by f+tm IS SO !!!!!!

and how much is art really worth? the very thing you’re best at is the thing that hurts the most.

ntm shake it out for kevin during the king’s men

oh no! by MARINA (and the diamonds (rip to this name)) IS SOOOO KEVIN LIKEEE

i would use specific lyrics to prove my point but tbh: the whole song™️

this is me trying by taylor swift likeee

i’ve been having a hard time adjusting. i had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting.

they told me all of my cages were mental. so i got wasted like all my potential. and my words shoot to kill when i’m mad.

i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere. fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here.

half return by adrianne lenker also reminds me of kevin, but in a ‘read between the lines it depends how you interpret it’ kind of way and i don’t even think i could really get my point across if i did try to explain it 😭😭 but the song is so devastatingly beautiful likeee (also reminds me of seth’s death)

too sweet by hozier is such a kevin song but in a way of i could see people making so many edits of him to this song and they would go viral LMAO

i think kevin would also listen to mitski but only during specific times/moods when he’s sulking and drowning in regret (and thinking about jean)

for example see i’m your man

also added je te lesserai des mots by patrick watson to the playlist of songs i think kevin would listen to— i think it has a perfect mix of classical and french music

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

can you pretty please do more maggie greene🙏 literally anything. i am STARVING!!! FOAMING AT THE MOUTH!!!!! ROLLING AROUND IN THE STREET LIKE A RACCOON WITH RABIES!!!!!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐞

— pairing: maggie greene x fem!plus size reader

— era: modern au/small southern town au

— summary: you were a normal church going girl: you graduated high school with good grades, read the bible and prayed, but that was all shattered by the time you met the brunette enigma by the name of maggie greene.

— warnings: depictions of toxic religious practices, toxic religious small towns, homophobia, internalized homophobia, the reader is lesbian coded but can be read by any wlw :], porn with feelings, sex in a hayloft, kissing, a crazy amount of dirty talk, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, teasing, maggie is a tease, bisexual maggie greene, homosexual sex.

— wc: 3384

⋆ a/n: WOW, so welcome to the 3k religious small-town au of maggie that no one asked for!!! this is deeply inspired by 'once more to see you' by mitski, and honestly i've been stewing on this idea for a while before i actually got the nerve to upload it. in no way am i slandering religious/religions of any kind, and honestly i didn't even give the reader and maggie a specific religion, everything is just kind of vague for imagination purposes.

masterlist | AO3

A small southern town, a church, a pretty girl, and a predestined bad ending.

You often recall the beginning of the rest of your life. The young woman you had a crush on was peering over at you from the pew next to yours, a playful grin threatening to take over her face when it looked like she had finally gotten your attention.

You remember your face heating, a faint blush spreading from your ears to your cheeks as you quickly looked away. Your hands that were once lightly clasped in prayer tightened, the palms of your hands pressing together with no space left between them. You had gulped nervously before looking back at her again to find that she was still looking at you, intrigue tugged at your gut.

It was temptation, and that was a sin; and yet… you couldn’t really find it within yourself to care. You held her gaze, before allowing yourself to smile at her shyly. The only word you could use to describe her was beaming. She radiated everything that was good, she encompassed the stars and moon in her eyes.

You didn’t know it then, but you’d learn to crave her intense stares, her attention, more than a normal girl in a normal female friendship would. You hated the sickening feeling of jealousy that would encompass you when she’d send that signature playful smile to, well… anyone really.

Your parents approved of her – not in the way you wanted them to – a nice church going girl that wanted to come over so you could read the bible together? Why, she was better than those heathens you called friends (the ones with dyed hairs and outspoken opinions).

In your small town, anyone who spoke out against the narrow-minded ideas of your extremely conservative community were alienated. They were wrong. Sinners. And God forgive those who others perceive as queer.

Now that was the worst sin of all.

Your throat would close up whenever your parents would bring up those “damned queers” and how they’re indoctrinating the poor, fragile minds of the growing youth. 

You knew, how could you not know? You knew the way you felt and admired women was different from those around you. Other girls didn’t get the urge to kiss other girls, they didn’t feel that horrible, nasty feeling of lust whenever another woman would even show a mildly suggestive sliver of skin on TV.

Suddenly, dinner didn’t sound that good anymore.

But then there was Maggie. Sweet, beautiful, playful Maggie.

And the devil in disguise.

She wasn’t all she had made herself out to be to those around her; she wasn’t the mild mannered, polite southern girl, she was mischievous, and playful, and… and tempting kind. She was your rock, the one that kept you grounded to the earth when the gravity of your thoughts threatened to take you away to somewhere far away.

She also pulled you out of your comfort zone, daring you to do something you had never even dared to do before. One of those things being sneaking out to the Hayloft of her father’s barn. 

It was a smelly old thing, humid and hot and everything wrong with Virginia, but most importantly it was your spot. Something that you shared with her. Even though you will always want more, being there with her was enough. It had to be enough.

You shivered at the warm air that entered your now opened window, which completely contrasted the cold air circulating through your house. Your parents had just gone down not even an hour before, but your mother, bless her heart, was so wine drunk that your father had to whisk her away to save her further mortification due to her drunken rambling.

In a strange way, knowing your mother had her flaws was comforting.

You split out quietly through the gap you had left, though due to the house being old, the thing was fidgety, so you shoved a book through the bottom to keep it open. It didn’t take you long to make it to that signature white wood chipped barn, butterflies swirling around in your gut at the thought of her being there.

“Howdy.” Maggie greeted from the top of the barn.

You jumped in surprise, clutching your chest over your speeding heart.

“Gosh Mags! You scared me! I wasn’t even halfway through the door yet!” You exclaimed quietly, but nevertheless made to climb up the ladder leading to the Hayloft above.

“Sorry hun, jus’ couldn’t wait.”

Ah, the nicknames. 

Warm giddiness flowed through your veins as you set your backpack down, pulling out a blanket and a chip bag or two.

“How’d you get these?” Maggie questioned at the sight of the fattening food. You just shrug with a shy smile, “I bought ‘em when I offered to go get the groceries.”

The thing about being a fat girl in a small town is that your mom had to control it, you represented her after all. You were supposed to be the exact reflection of her, and she was most definitely not your size. So your weight was another thing she had to keep in line (aside from your sexual virtue of course.)

“Whew,” She blew out a whistled breath. “Yer growin’ darin’, girl, arent’cha?” You blushed, casting your gaze to the open part of the roof – a hole her father and brother hadn’t been able to patch yet.

It was a clear view of the darkened sky, the stars glaring despite the heat of the night.

“I guess I learned from the best.” You said cheekily. “Real darin’.” She bit back.

The tension was palpable between the two of you, but you could never – couldn’t – allow it to grow, to reach its peak. You looked away first, scrambling to try and act natural as you adjusted yourself on top of the blanket Maggie had already put down. You let the airy blanket you had brought drape over your jean covered crossed legs, almost acting as a barrier between you and your forbidden want.

Your heart was racing and your lungs were aching but God, nothing compared to the pang of longing that shot through you like a bullet had shattered into fragments. 

Maggie had allowed you to slip away from her grasp once again, which you were grateful for.

She settled beside you, her own crossed legs bumping into yours, not a sliver of space between you. She had let you go, but not for long. The push and pull was beginning to grow shorter and shorter on her end, it was up to you to keep extending her more length. You had to.

After a beat of silence she said, “You ever dream of gettin’ outta here?”

You look at her, startled. “All the time.” You couldn’t stop yourself from saying.

If she was shocked by your confession, she didn’t say anything. “Why?” Was all she asked. “Because…” Because I always feel like my family’s constantly breathing down my neck, because I feel suffocated, because I can’t truly be who I am without being called an abomination. 

Because I love you.

“Because I’ve always wanted to see the city.” You finally say with another half-hearted shrug. 

“What if I could take you there?”

“What?” You breathed out in confusion, whipping your head around to look at her with furrowed brows.

“What if I could take you to the city, would you come with me?”

“I…” Yes, you want to say, I’d go anywhere with you. “It’s not good to entertain thoughts like this.” A loaded statement and you know it. 

“Oh please, don’t hit me with that bullshit.” She scoffed. “I’m not, I’m being serious! We have our family to think about. We can't just… we can’t just leave. We have a life here, we can… we are growing a life here.” With each other. 

“You don’t want that.” She says. It’s a statement not a question. “You don’t want that. I know it and you know it. And trust me, I don’t want whatever future you’re thinking of either.”

“Oh, yeah? And what future am I thinking of that’s so bad that even the big bad Maggie Greene can’t see a way out besides leaving?” You snapped. The question was ugly, and it was meant to hurt. 

“The one where we grow old and act like we’re not in love with each other! Where we practically damn ourselves to hell everyday just by seeing each other, and yet we choose to condemn our lives to those with men and children we both would never truly love.” She takes your now trembling hand in hers. 

“You’re envisioning a nightmare, and I am imagining a dream. A dream where we’re together in the city in a big, stupid penthouse that we both love, where we can both be free without some bible thumpers knocking at our door telling us that our love is wrong.”

You stare at her with glassy eyes, shined over with tears that threaten to pool over the edges like an unsealed jar.

“Maggie…” Was it a plea? A whimper? A beg? A beg to stop her from getting your hopes up.

“We… we can’t.” The devastation is clear in your voice and you try to pull your hand away but she won’t let you. Her grip tightens, her voice tight. “No, no more. Stop runnin’ away from me, from us. I know yer scared but… but we could do this. Are we not allowed to want this one thing to ourselves? Why can’t we just be a little selfish?”

Your eyelids flutter shut but she knows your resolve is crumbling bit by bit.

“We…” You sob. “We can’t.” It’s weak, even to your own ears. You don’t believe it, not anymore. She was right. Why couldn’t you be selfish? Your whole life you had just given and given and given until you were left wringing out a towel that was already dry.

“We can.” Was all she could say to counter your tears.

The Hayloft was silent, as if the world had heard the confession of two girls in love and captured it, tucking it away to remain safely under the stars, the moon the only one bearing witness to the raw and exposed emotions.

“Maggie?” You said after a short amount of time of her thumb stroking across the soft skin of your knuckles. “Yes, baby?” 

“Kiss me?” 

Her eyes widened at your request, but she didn’t hesitate to lean in closer, her lips brushing up against yours for a sweet moment.

“I love you.” Maybe you could blame it on being in the heat of the moment, or maybe a slip of the tongue, but no, you were tired of pushing her away, you were tired of running.

It felt like for the past two years you’ve known her all you’ve done is run; run from yourself, run from the expectations of your family, run from the church, run, run, run. You wanted to sit down and enjoy life for one detrimental moment.

“I love you too.” The confession brought a smile to both of your faces before she finally pressed your lips together.

It wasn’t magical, there weren't bells or an explosion of colors behind your eyelids. No, this was her, the warmth of her body, the silent creaking of the old wood under you as she shifted closer into your space, the sound of crickets and frogs making noise in the creek next not even a few feet away hidden by the treeline. 

You created this kiss. This was yours and Maggie’s. No one else's. 

It was sweet at first, the feeling of heartache being replaced by the indistinguishable emotion that was relief. Pure relief. Relief to finally have her in your arms. To feel her.

Your lips parted in a gasp in order to try and catch your breath, but traced the seam of it with her tongue. You shudder despite the heat. She was pressing against you, like she was trying to shove you back.

“Lay down fer me?” She questions softly. Your stomach twists for a moment in fear before dissipating. This was Maggie. Maggie. Maggie.

You follow her ask, the woman slipping a thigh through your legs so she can balance the other one on the outside of you. Her hand never left its cradling form on your face, the other holding herself up above you. 

When the muscle of her tongue finally slipped inside your mouth, that’s when her leg twitches forward, like she was trying to swallow you whole. Her knee brushed against your pant covered heat and you whined.

“Maggie…” You whimper, your hands that are placed timidly on her shoulders tighten a bit, the dull pads of your fingers digging into her shoulder blades.

“How far do you wanna go?”

You knew what she meant.

Sex was already such a taboo subject, but homosexual sex between two women? That was enough to give any old conservative woman a heart attack. You knew you should tell her to stop, to say that kissing and planning your future together was enough, but it wasn’t. Now that you finally allowed yourself to let go, you want everything you’ve deprived yourself of.

“As far as you want.” You confess breathlessly. “No promise I have any idea of what I’m doing but I – but I want everything with you. Whatever you want. I’ll go anywhere with you.”

Her heated expression turned soft before it turned salacious.

“You don’t need to do anything sweetheart, jus’ let me do all the work, ‘kay? Gonna make you feel so good.” She all but purred. “Whatever you want.” You gasped as she placed kisses down the sensitive and unexplored part of your neck.

“Mags no marks…” You moan as she travels lower. “I know what ‘m doin’ sweet girl, stop worrying that pretty little head of yours and let go, yeah?”

You breath hitches at the feeling of her nimble, deft fingers working at the buttons of your jeans, her lips cradled at the shell of your ear. The puff of air sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah.” You agreed easily. 

“Good girl.” She cooed and your cheeks bloomed a pretty heat in embarrassment.

Maggie hooks her fingers in the material at your pants and tugs them down your thick thighs, getting caught over the curve of your ass.

“Lift your hips up.” She demands softly, and you eagerly oblige. 

She tugs them the rest of the way down, discarding them carelessly off to the side.

“You good?” She questions. “Yes, yeah, yes – please just… please don’t stop.” You all but beg. “I won’t honey, I got you.”

She works your panties down your legs, leaving you exposed to her hungry gaze. 

“Don’t stare.” You mumble shyly. “How can I not? You look so pretty.” You huff at the teasing tone in her voice. “Shush.” You bite without any malice, closing your legs to disrupt her view of your soaking cunt.

“Aw, baby, don’t be like that.” She laughs leaning her body into your space to separate your legs with her own body. Her eyes are trained on you and you gulp. “Hi.” You breathe. “Hey yourself.” She giggles. 

The tender moment continues when she leans down to join your mouths together softly. You close your eyes and lean into her, arms wrapping loosely around her neck oblivious to the wandering hand that slithers its way between the two of you.

When her fingertips brush against your wet slit you gasp, mouth falling open and inviting to assault as her tongue weaves its way into it again. Your tongues fight for a moment before you submit to hear, tiny whimpers piercing the serene and murky atmosphere. 

Maggie’s finger dips into the wetness, searching along before stopping on top of your clit, which she gives an experimental rub against.

“Oh!” You cry out, your hips stuttering. “‘M sensitive.” She coos, continuing now in fast circles. They’re just two finger pads pressed against the bud, but it feels like everything. Your breath gets caught in your throat once more and your eyes flutter shut.

“That feels… so…” You can’t find the words because it feels like your brain is shutting down. “Good, amazing, fantastic?” She lists out through a shit-eating smirk. You can’t find it within yourself to chide her, not when she stops and sinks one of her fingers into your heat.

“Ah – gosh, Maggie!”

“Shh, beautiful girl. I know we're outside but you gotta lower it, alright?”

“Mhm, whatever you want.” You said dazedly. Your head fell back when her thumb began drawing figure-eights on your clit. She laughs fondly, placing a heated kiss on your lips.

“Gonna add another one, ‘kay? It’ll feel a bit weird but I swear it’ll get better.” She warns. “It’s okay, I trust you.” You reassure despite the pleasure cloud in your mind. “Good.”

A second finger slips in, and though it’s a bit uncomfortable it’s quickly overridden by the proper wrist work of her hand. Something coils in your stomach, and it’s so tight and it makes you feel so desperate, like your nerves are on fire.

“Another one.” You demand breathlessly. “I gotta – I need another one. I’m so close and I don’t know – I…” 

“Sh, sh, sh. Alright, baby. Three fingers already? Wow, what a good girl, always knew you could take it.” She coos and you tremble. “You’ve thought of me like this?” You ask through pinched brows. “Uh huh. Thought of you when I was alone in my room at night with a hand shoved down my pants, thought of you when those pretty little lips of your spoke or smiled, thought of you when you wore those nice flowing skirts and those tight dresses.” She rambled.

“Could go on and on ‘bout how crazy you make me.”

Her dirty words all but shoved you to your end.

“You ever think ‘bout me?” 

“Huh?” You asked intelligently. “You ever thought ‘bout getting fucked by me? Oh, better yet, you ever thought about fucking me?”

“God – Maggie! Yes, yes, I!” It all happened too fast. One moment all of the fantasies of her had crossed your mind; her bare breasts, the taste of her, how she would sound. It was all too much, and you clenched down on her fingers like a vice, but she didn’t seem to mind, only curling them fast against your g-spot, her thumb relentless on its quest to give you a mind blowing orgasm.

“That’s it, get my hand messy, uh huh…” Maggie sounded dazed herself as she watched you squirm and clench and tremble, transfixed on the space between you. Your back arched into her, your own digits tangling in her now sweat soaked hair, drips of the liquid falling on your face.

Maybe any other time you would care, but not when she was deep in you.

You came down with a sigh, back finally flattening from its twisted up position. Your thighs fell apart and her fingers left you, the woman wiping them on the blanket below.

“Holy. Fuck.” Maggie laughed and you couldn’t help but join her, your already burning lungs struggling to contract to the new emotion.

“That was… wow.”

“A little bit better than wow, but I’ll take it.” She teased, falling to lay next to you. 

As you came down, you placed your hands over your full stomach, fingers interlacing together as you turned to stare at her. “What about you?” You asked. Your eyes trailed down to the spot between her legs. 

“What about me? We’ve always got next time, ya know? In the big city, in a nice plush bed and ac. Maybe even with a few candles lit compared to horse shit.”

You laughed again, but your stomach didn’t curl when she mentioned going to the city together. If anything, it was filled with excitement and hope. Hope hasn’t been something you felt for a long time.

You reached over and gripped her dirty hand.

“I love you, you know?” You questioned quietly into the air.

“Yeah,” She began, lifting to bring your palm up so she could kiss the back of it before letting it fall back on your stomach carelessly.

“I know.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon

[braveasnouns]

i bet on losing dogs by mitski rosie and her sons coded...

yesss it is!! she knows they’re losing and she’ll pay for her place by the ring!!

I need to talk more about Rosie and the wolf boys because they literally made me bawl when i watched it.

yes their connection with Rosie but also the way they were first introduced to the audience as some sort of monster, some sort of anomaly hidden away in a box, fed scraps and hardly paid any attention unless they need to hunt someone. and then we see them, and they’re literally just kids, no different from Wendy or Gus or any of the other hybrids we’ve grown attached to throughout the series. the way they are treated would be abuse even to an everyday pack of wolves, much more that they have the same brain power as humans.

no one watching can ever imagine doing something like that to their kids, and I think that’s exactly what the makes the storyline stand out so much. yes, Rosie probably could have said no. yes, she could have ran off with her sons and never had anything to do with her mom again. but there was no example, no other way she’d seen someone raise hybrid babies. do you know how many people are sucked into awful things, cults and beliefs and hatred’s just because every family member around them doesn’t know any different? you start out with every bit of love in your heart that’s been there since you were a child, but it’s slowly whittled down and shoved deep inside of you, because when you’re never shown the merciful kind of love how can you ever fully give it to anyone else?

so yeah, she’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down!!

[cursed-peanut]

Fireworks

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: GN! Reader, ANGSTTTTTTTT, not proofread, possible grammar and spelling mistakes, swearing, partly inspired by AOT (you’ll get it if you’ve watched/read it).

A/N: For context of this fic, it was inspired by Mitski’s song Fireworks. Listen to it if you haven’t already :3 (Geto is so Mitski coded and I am HERE for it). This fic is also slightly Eremika coded bc THIS SONG IS LITERALLY THEM!! Also dw everyone, I’m still writing the Sukuna fic, I just wanted to be a bit self indulgent with angst :3 Enjoy! <3

————————————

Fireworks used to be such a joyful experience. They light up the dark sky with a harsh bang and beautiful colours. The varying patterns mesmerising everyone into watching forever.

But now they are nothing but a painful reminder of the past.

You tell yourself year after year that you’ve moved on from him — you’ve moved on from that good for nothing murderer who slaughtered all those humans for no reason.

But when you’re lying in bed, on a warm summers’ night, you’re reminded that you can never truly snuff out your love for him — despite his actions.

You’re disgusted with yourself for not being able to move on from this diabolical man. He’s ended so many lives — so many innocent lives — yet here you are, replaying old memories you seemingly eternally cherish.

“Hey, Suguru. Wait up,” you yell, Suguru stops walking to give you a chance to catch up to him, but he keeps his gaze to the floor. “Did you hear there’s going to be a firework display tonight? I heard they’re doing it to celebrate Jujutsu High’s Tokyo branch for being around for so many years. Anyway, we should watch them together!”

Suguru finally tears his eyes away from the wooden floor to look at you. “I don’t like fireworks. Their loud noises overwhelm me.”

“Oh…I didn’t know that…hey, what if we watch them from my dorm window? We’d get the perfect view and it shouldn’t be too loud.” You grin. Suguru is sceptical, but your beaming smile and want to hang out with him makes him cave.

“Alright. What time should I be at your dorm by?” Your grin grows impossibly bigger as you tell him eight o’clock. That gives you two half an hour to set up properly before the fireworks start.

“C’mon, Suguru. It’s almost eight thirty, we need to sit by the window.” He was still slightly nervous to watch the fireworks with you, even though he is far from them, but he swallows his fears down and sits with you by the window.

Soon the night sky begins to light up with the long awaited fireworks and you’re completely enamoured. So focused on them, you don’t notice that Suguru isn’t looking at them — in fact he hasn’t looked at a single one in front of him — the only fireworks he has seen tonight are the ones that reflect in your adoring eyes.

He uses this moment to question himself. Is he really going to go through with this? If he kills everyone in his village, there’s no going back and he’d most likely never see you again. You’d probably hate him as well, so there’s no point in asking you to join him. But would it hurt to ask? Would you push him away and call him a monster? Or would you agree to be his lover and stay by his side? The choice is yours.

“Y/N,” he almost feels guilty for ripping you out of your trance, but he needs to know now. It’s now or never. “What am I to you?”

“Hm?” You raise a brow. “What do you mean?”

“What am I to you?” Suguru pinches his brows together as he prepares for your rejection.

“I- Suguru, what are you-“

“What am I to you? Do you see me as the man who’s fought along side you or your family?”

“Huh? I- um- w-where did this come from?”

“Please,” Suguru looks at you urgently. “What am I to you?”

“I’m…you…you’re…you’re my…” You bite your lip with uncertainty before answering. “You’re my family.”

Suguru watches the fireworks properly for the first time tonight with a saddened look, and so do you. Unsure about your answer but too afraid and embarrassed to correct yourself.

Fifteen minutes of fireworks and thick silence go past slowly until the last one is lit and Suguru bids goodbye. You watch how his long hair sways when he walks down the corridor, not knowing that that would be the last time you saw and talked to Suguru Geto.

Now looking back on that memory, you wonder how you hadn’t seen Suguru’s heavy eye bags. How no one saw them. Or perhaps you did see them but you were unsure on how to talk to him about it.

These damn fireworks, always reminding you of him.

But still, they always have you wondering what would’ve happened if you told him how you truly felt. Would he have stayed at Jujutsu High with you, or was he too far gone at that point and would’ve asked you to join him? You honestly don’t know and most likely never will.

But you do know one thing:

Fuck warm summer nights, fuck fireworks, and fuck Suguru Geto.

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