#which wasn't necessarily about me but it happened the night before i had an appointment with the ship doctor
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You ever notice a running theme in your life?
#death //#trauma //#drowning //#comics#gpoy#art tag#i know it's not an omen lmao it's probably a subconscious thing HOWEVER#i do think it's weird my dm did that#that one did weird me out a bit#let me know if there needs to be more tags i'm just throwing them on here#i'm not going to tag the books even though all three have their own tags that's not the point of this#EDIT: after posting this i realized that there was also that person who drowned when i worked on the cruise ship#which wasn't necessarily about me but it happened the night before i had an appointment with the ship doctor#and they had to reschedule me because they were dealing with the body#anyways
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So the last week and a half has been filled with some not fun stuff, culminating in Return to Office today. I just need to type all this out so please do not feel obligated to read any of this.
Let me explain in bullet list form...
We had a lovely christmas morning with waffles and a few presents
On christmas afternoon, Peter was on his way to his car when he slipped on a patch of ice, landed badly and broke his leg (fibula, mostly, tibia less so but still). [he is doing ok now, spoiler alert]
It certainly could have been worse, luckily he did not hurt his back or head, but he really fucked up his fibula, pardon my bellicosity.
At the time, we were hoping it was sprained as initially there was no swelling or bruising and he wasn't in a lot of pain and we decided we didn't need to spend christmas night in the ER.
On Boxing day we took him to the urgent care, because it had swollen and bruised overnight. We got to sit in the waiting room for 1.5 hours and watch The Santa Clause 2 (which is a really weird movie as it turns out). We then got to go back to a room and wait for the Dr and x-rays...and got to watch the Santa Clause 2 again.
The Dr came in, took a glance at his ankle and she said "oh that looks broken", so our hopes of sprain were gone quickly.
X-rays confirmed a nasty spiral break of the fibula and a smaller fracture of the tibia. It is usually not good when the Dr says "I haven't seen a break like that before".
She put on a splint and wrapped the hell out of it, sent us home with crutches and referred us to an Ortho Trauma office. Luckily it was the office of a Dr that my mom (long time Orthopedic OR Nurse) had worked with.
My mom was able to call him and he called us back very quickly, which was great because he was on vacation for the week. My mom has pull. He was able to look at the x-rays and also commented on how bad the break was. Talked Peter through everything and had his scheduling coordinator call us. Surgery was schedule for Tuesday, January 2nd...
...which happened to be Peter's 21st birthday [sad trombone]
So the week was spent trying keep him comfortable, managing the pain, figuring how to shower and keep the splint dry.
Yesterday morning he went to the DMV to get his new license and then we were off to the hospital. We got there at 10:15 AM and we left at about 5 PM. The surgery went great (a plate and 9 screws) and we got him home. He'll be in a splint for 2 more weeks and then after the sutures come out will switch to a boot and possibly one of those rollie knee scooters.
He goes back to campus on the 16th, follow up appointment is the 18th. Hopefully he will be able to get around OK.
And then today I got to go into the office and work (Mon/Wed/Thur in office, Tue/Fri at home). I know it is not necessarily a big deal, but I have been working from home for almost 20 years, so it is a weird thing for me.
Plus it is at a very large company with a lot of people all going back at the same time. I haven't sat at a cubicle for closer to 25 years and to have this many people around me all making a lot of noise was really jarring. I don't like it and I am not going to like it and I will be grumpy about it for a while.
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Kahve
Yusuf x Gender-Neutral!Reader
Warnings - none
Word Count - 1029 words.
Description - Yusuf is many things and one of them just happens to be a coffee lover. It just so happens to be another one of those mornings, in which you feed into the coffee addiction.
Authors Notes - I'm going to list this as a thing that I learned recently that I didn't know when this was originally written - according to google, coffee is very important to Turkish culture. If that's incorrect, my apologies, I'd love to learn more about what coffee means to different cultures. When this was first written, I also notoriously hated coffee. It's something I'd only gotten into within the past year, and now I'm addicted to it. My job certainly doesn't help, as I now work at a coffee shop. Also, I wasn't originally going to write for Yusuf this week! Just something that felt right, I hope it did for you too. Ella :)
Out of the two of you, you were the early riser. That might not be saying much, necessarily, but in comparison with your partner, it certainly was. The sun was already well into the sky by the time Yusuf had woken up. It was quite a sight, and honestly, it was one you enjoyed seeing every morning. His hair stuck up unruly in places, pajamas twisted around showing how much he tossed and turned the night before.
Some mornings you got to enjoy the quiet moments spent sipping coffee, or kahve as Yusuf says, until he wakes up enough to get started with his day. It usually took about two cups of the stuff to achieve full alertness from him, though he'd keep downing mugs full of it the whole day long.
And usually, you'd have some coffee made for him. This morning was an exception, you had an appointment you had to get to, and you were already running late. Mentally, you'd mapped out a plan to go to the local coffee shop on the way there, so you could get your fix too.
You were mostly surprised he was already up, you were just slipping your shoes on when you'd heard his sleep-covered voice calling out your name from the kitchen.
“Aşkım," Yusuf called out the endearing term, and you could hear he was closer in search of you, "what did you do with the kahve?”
Only slightly offended, you finished pulling the shoe on and stared up at him. His cowlick poked out, sticking straight up behind him and you could've sworn his shirt was almost completely backward at this point. Before responding, you took a moment to adjust the shirt slightly.
"The coffee," you hummed, smoothing his locks with your fingers gently. He leaned into the gesture, and you continued softly, "bottom cabinet by the fridge?"
He shook his head slowly, eyes shutting involuntarily as you played with his hair, "if it were in the cabinet I wouldn't have asked, aşkım."
There was no real malice to his tone, still, your hand retracted, instead opting to rest against his shoulders. You let a slight pout play across your lips, "grouchy."
"Please, aşkım," Yusuf whined, eyes shooting wide open. His hand wrapped around your wrist and placed it roughly on his head once more. "If you love me even a little you'd help me."
You sighed, the pout rolling into a smile, "dramatic. Fine, as long as you promise not to bite my head off."
Yusuf's hand still encased yours as it drooped from his hair to his cheek, to your side. The trek from the entranceway to the kitchen wasn't a long one, thankfully, and you began to scour through the cabinets. True to his word, it wasn't in the cabinet it was usually in - and it didn't escape his notice that you were looking there.
"Did you not believe me, aşkım," he said, as though he were deeply betrayed by your disbelief. Groggily, his hand flew to his chest with a mock hurt, before it rested on the edge of the countertop.
You scoffed, looking up at him from your crouched position, "you've been known to miss things, especially when you're half asleep. My apologies."
"Accepted," he shot you a grin as he leaned back against the island, still facing you.
The distraction was welcome, and you let your eyes linger on his figure long enough that he only raised his eyebrows in response. You shook your head, focusing on finding his coffee. Your friend wouldn't mind you being a few minutes late, but you were already cutting it close.
After an initial look inside all of the cabinets, you hummed quietly to yourself. You were suddenly grateful you didn't have many places to look, yet wondered how he'd still managed to lose the coffee in such a small kitchen.
"I wonder where you put it," you said, mostly to yourself, You weren't entirely sure he could hear you anyway, as his eyes began to slip shut. Rummaging through a cabinet you'd already looked through, you began moving things to see further back and behind.
Apparently your comment was enough to wake him up once more. Yusuf scoffed loudly, jumping from his casual pose to a more defensive one, "why would you assume I moved it?"
You almost dropped the brown sugar, placing it on the countertop while shooting him a look over your shoulder, "I don't know. Maybe because you made coffee last?"
"When?"
It was something of a nightly ritual, the late hours when Yusuf would seek out a cup of kahve. Something that was slightly unnerving to you, though not unusual at this point of being with him. It was just never something you could participate in, because if you did, you'd be up half the night while he snored soundly.
"Right before bed. Last night," you sighed again, and he moved close by you to peer into the cabinet you were looking in. His clothed chest pressed into your arm, and his presence wasn't entirely unwelcome. It seemed he had made it his mission to make leaving the house today as hard as possible.
Yusuf's warm breath fanned your cheek, peering at you with long eyelashes, "did I?"
Quickly you shoved everything you took out back onto the shelves, with no help from the man next to you. Once the cabinet was thoroughly looked through, although difficult with the walking distraction beside you, you moved to the last place in the kitchen you hadn't checked. You pushed into him only slightly, and his body turned to face you with your movements.
A sharp look on your face held a ghost of amusement as you nodded your head accusingly, "you did," and promptly began rummaging through the fridge. You'd never stored the grounds in there, but you couldn't really think of any other places they could be hiding in.
There, behind the gallon of milk was the coffee. You grabbed it quickly, straightening as you narrowed your eyes at him. Dark brown eyes peered back at you sheepishly, waving his hands innocently in the air.
"The fridge," you asked, tone dripping with judgment, "since when do we keep the coffee there?"
"Meleğim, that's where you're supposed to keep kahve," he deadpanned, his eyes still wide as he stepped closer to you.
"Oh, really," you said, letting him embrace you, arms wrapped around your waist. In turn, you wrapped your own around his shoulders. Yusuf's nose pressed into your cheek, his lips following suit not long after. "Then why didn't you remember it was in there?"
He pulled his face back quickly, eyes narrowing at you although the corners of his lips quirked up. Clearly amused, and already more awake than you expected this early with no caffeine, he tutted at you reprehensively.
"Because," he said slowly as if you should have already known this, a grin splitting across his face rapidly, "I need kahve, aşkım."
#assassins creed#assassins creed fanfic#fanfic#yusuf tazim#yusuf#yusuf x reader#yusuf tazim x reader
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Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 3/8
CHARACTERS: Nanami Kento X You (fem!reader | PLEASE READ THE NOTES BELOW*) | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Utahime Iori | other JJK Characters CHAPTER COUNT: 3/8 WORD COUNT: 4,000+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | eventual smut | ooc depictions | female reader with described appearance* | modern au | rich people au | aged up characters CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | age gap | strong/mature/suggestive language | mentions of murder/crime/dying | mentions and use of drugs SPOILERS: n/a
collection masterlist
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight
"Play the Game" Masterlist
"Do you remember the last time I was in your car?"
The hitch immediately started with that one question. It seemed innocent enough with the way you said it in nonchalance while you let your eyes roam the ivory interior of the Lexus. The two of you were only halfway out of the highway when you asked out of the blue, ultimately pissing Nanami off.
At the reminder, his knuckles immediately turned bone white on the steering wheel, his expressions turning dark as he glanced at you, mouth set in a thin line.
He couldn't remember a darker time in his life than watching you almost die from the rear view mirror of his car as you lay shivering on the backseat, unresponsive even if he struggled to both drive, not to crash and keep you conscious. The glassy look about your blue eyes and the way your pupils had blown up to more than twice their size making him shiver. It was safe to say it scarred him for life.
It was a day like any other. He had just gotten off work after a long day at the court, a mix of sadness and elation coursing through him after winning the case for a teenage girl who was brutally murdered. He finally put the man responsible for it in jail for good. It felt good to see the relief on the faces of the grieving parents; to finally put an end to the daily misery they have to go through, having to be reminded of what has become of their daughter.
But as he was resting in his study, a damp towel draped over his tired eyes and throbbing head, his phone suddenly rang. It wasn't yet 10 o'clock in the evening so he opted to answer it, surprised when he saw your name on the screen. You never really called, and the last time you did, it didn't bode well.
"Hello?"
"Suguru..." came your hoarse voice from the other end of the line, your shallow breaths and wheezes evident in each syllable followed by the sound of faintly splashing water.
"You've reached the wrong person, sweetheart," he muttered, reminding him just how Geto was your favorite among Gojo's friends. He did not resent that, but to say he wasn't the tiniest bit jealous was a lie.
Nanami called your name several times but there was no response, just loud rustling and what seemed to be the device falling on the floor with an echo.
"I fucked up big time," you managed to choke out when you spoke again, your tone slurred, and you seemed to be having a difficult time speaking.
"Where are you?"
"I n-need you... p-please..."
"What's going on?" Nanami was already on his feet, dashing out of the study and picking up his keys, still coaxing you to respond when he heard a ding on his phone. You managed to send your location but you weren't speaking anymore.
He was not religious, probably did not believe in a higher being, but as he drove towards your location, thankfully only half a mile away to the suburbs, he found himself fervently praying for your safety.
When he finally got to the address, he found a modernistic structure, a house, and there seemed to be a party going on. He saw some familiar faces, the gallery manager from the previous exhibit of your recent collection and some art connoisseurs he recognized from the same event.
He barged into the house, being handed a champagne flute the moment he entered, everyone welcoming him but he didn't see your face among the people. He refused, asking instead where you were, sprinting up the stairs in large strides when he was told you went upstairs with some people.
Nanami pretty much kicked every door open until he finally found you in one of the upstairs bathroom. He thought his knees would give out as his heart literally stopped at the sight before him.
There, on the half-filled bathtub was you, soaked to your chest. Your white hair was matted over your forehead while the tips floated on the water. You turned your head when you heard him enter, revealing bloodshot eyes, your lips blue and you looked like you didn't have any blood left with your almost greyish pallor.
Hurriedly, he took you out of the tub, carrying you downstairs much to the curiosity of the guests. "You will be okay. Stay with me," he kept telling you.
Despite your state, you managed to smile, tears springing from your eyes. "Nanamin..." you said weakly, making his heart swell that you were at least happy to see him.
He seriously thought you were going to die, but apparently, you did not necessarily overdose on the cocaine you had taken in as he would later find out from the doctors themselves. You had a bad trip and had to be weaned off the substance for the next twenty four hours.
"Are you drug dependent?" he asked when he picked you up from the hospital, opting not to tell Gojo about the matter until he got his answers.
"You won't tell Satoru, will you?" you asked.
"That depends on your answer and whether you're telling the truth," he told you gruffly, fighting hard not to be angry seeing as how fragile you looked. He hadn't slept and he felt as if his nerves were frayed.
You shook your head. "That's the first time. I promise you it won't happen again. I know it's stupid, but I was just curious."
"Your devil-may-care attitude will kill you."
"I know."
He didn't say anything more no matter how much he wanted to scold you and beat some sense into you. He never brought it up and neither did you. That was an unspoken agreement between the two of you. It was your secret which he will carry to his grave and for the last three years since then, nothing like it happened again. You voluntarily cut your ties with the people who were in that party and since then, you had been well.
"Don't remind me," he snapped at you, keeping his eyes on the road.
You’ve reached the shop that Utahime had instructed you to go to for your fitting, but before he could kill the engine, you spoke again.
"Come to think of it, I've never properly apologized for it, and I haven't said thank you enough for saving me that day."
Nanami shot you a sharp look. "I don't want to talk about it."
You sighed and held his hand as he was taking off his seatbelt. "I don't mean to make you angry, but I am sincerely apologizing for it. I am sorry because I put you through that."
Nanami held you by the wrist instead, meeting your gaze with a cold stare. "If you are, then I hope you also realized what a selfish person you are. You're right. You put me through hell. What could I have said to your brother if you died on me that night?"
You didn't say anything, appearing contrite for the first time.
"Gojo would have lost you. Your friends would have lost you." He sighed heavily, holding your hand properly, his expressions softening at how tiny yours looked in his. "I would have lost you."
At his last statement, you nodded and chuckled quietly. "I wouldn't refute that if it saves me. Still, I wanted you to know that it was a big deal for me." You smiled at him. "But that's not all. I could have lost you, but you're still here. So, thanks." And in a surprising turn of events which left him dumbstruck, you lifted both your hands and brushed your lips on his knuckles before disembarking from the car and skipping to the couturier's shop.
His mind wandered throughout the time he was being assisted into the suit that the bride- and groom-to-be had chosen for him to wear on their wedding. He had to give Gojo props for choosing well and suiting the ensemble’s piece to his preference. But he couldn’t quite concentrate on the task at hand when the scene in the car kept playing in his mind. The back of his hand still tingled where you kissed it.
All he wanted to do was see you, but you were a room away, also being pricked and pinned. He wanted nothing but for the fitting to be over so he can be with you again, regardless if it was just for the short drive going back to Gojo manor. Your course of action and words fueled something in him he thought never existed, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to see you, hear you, smell you, touch you. He wanted you, wanted to have you for himself come Gojo or high water. He already knew that, but he never felt as strongly as he did for you than at present because he also knew, that for the first time, you were being yourself and not playing games with him.
Nanami vaguely heard the tailor say something to him, but he didn’t quite catch it, but his image on the mirror suddenly became clearer as he was interrupted from his daydream. His brows furrowed together as he assessed what the man said, but before it could drag on for too long, his cluelessness, he said, “I’m sorry, you were saying?”
“Is the fit just right, Mr. Nanami?” the man asked again, expert eyes scanning over his figure.
“It’s perfect. Thank you,” Nanami stated hurriedly. He couldn’t care less about the suit, but it was already great. He didn’t see any reason to prolong the appointment. “Can I get changed now?”
“Certainly, sir,” the tailor said. “I will leave you to get dressed.”
He just nodded and carefully shed the suit off before changing back into his clothes, meticulously folding the sleeves of his shirt before he set out in search of you. He knocked on the door he was directed to, hearing music playing on the other side of the door along with some voices, one of which was yours.
The door opened and his eyes immediately met those cool blue ones through the mirror. You had your arms spread out to the sides as three women worked around you. “Done already?”
Nanami felt heat creeping up his neck as he averted his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were far from finished.”
“Oh, shush. I need your opinion.”
He snorted. “Yeah. Like I know anything about this.” At odds to his words, he sat down.
“Your boyfriend is handsome,” the couturier commented with a flirtatious giggle as he sized Nanami up.
“I –”
He was about to protest when you cut him short and said, “Isn’t he?”
“That coming from the person who said she didn’t feel like drawing my face,” he said, feigning annoyance.
“Oh, baby. I can’t draw your face if its saves me.” You flashed him a seductive smile. “You’re too perfect.” You winked at him through the mirror while he just sat down and shook his head in amusement, picking up a magazine but not really reading through it. He just watched as you were directed like a doll to pose whichever way the stylist wanted and he could have sworn he has seen nothing more beautiful.
“Just another pin right here,” the couturier said flamboyantly, fastening this and that around your sides, “…and we’re done!” He clapped his hands, standing back as he admired his handiwork. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s fine,” you said, tilting your head to the side.
“Hmm,” Nanami butted in, closing the distance between him and you. He came closer behind you, silently ordering everyone else out of the room with a succinct jerk of his head before he stood there, eyes on your bare back. He placed both hands on either of your shoulders, towering over you.
You quietly observed what he was doing from the mirror, your expressions unchanging even when he traced your spine with his finger. His lips curled at the corners ever so slightly when you slightly jerked forward when he reached the small of your back, relishing the smoothness of your skin against his calloused digit. He lingered there, drawing circles as he met your gaze on your reflection.
“Isn’t this too low?” he asked, his breath hitting the shell of your right ear. “You’re attending a wedding anyway.”
“Oh?” You twirled around so that your back was to the mirror, while you looked over your shoulder to check what he was saying. The plunging style of the dusty rose gown dipped all the way to your waist. “You think so?” You looked up at him, noticing how his face was just inches away from you. “I think it’s okay.”
“Okay for everyone to see?”
At that, you smiled smugly at him. “And you don’t like that, do you, Nanamin?” you asked sultrily.
“I am your boyfriend after all,” he teased. “While I’d like to brag about you, it wouldn’t sit right with me to know everyone’s seeing what’s supposedly only for my eyes, now would it?”
“I never took you for the jealous – whoa!”
Without preamble, he wrapped a strong arm around you, pulling you close so that you were flush against his chest, a devious smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t even concealing his enjoyment anymore. He liked having you close like that, your intoxicating scent dominating his senses.
“Why did you say that to the stylist?” he asked, leaning closer and reveling at the fact that you were caught off guard, eyes wide in surprise.
“It’s easier to just say so than explain, isn’t it?” You leveled your bearing with his. “You didn’t do anything to disagree either.”
“First, you kiss me in front of your brother, flirt with me like it’s normal and say things like that. What are you playing at?”
“Is this one of your games?” you asked, returning his question to you the previous day. You reached up and cupped the side of his face, eyes lingering on his mouth. “Cause I’ll play, Kento.”
He has never quite thought of his name before, whether he liked it or not. It was given to him and he couldn't imagine being called anything else. But he has never liked the sound of it as much as he did when it was rolling out of your tongue. It brought out a strange feeling, spurring him on to give in to his desires instead of holding them back like he usually does with you.
It was all the encouragement he needed. Fuck everything, he thought, dipping his head lower to close the distance between the two of you until he was touching your lips. A quiet gasp left your mouth when he pressed his lips onto yours in an experimental touch, gentle as a zephyr. Your ocean eyes stared at him, taken aback when he pulled away but the dazed look you had was the same one that drew him back to you, landing pecks several times, each one lingering longer than the last.
"Are you teasing me, Nanamin?" you breathed out softly, the laughter in your voice dying out when he captured your lips, this time shutting you up for a good while, coaxing you to respond to his ministrations. He knew he won over you when he felt your fingers grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer, your chest rising and falling against his in shallow breaths, making his heart thrum wildly.
His senses were already heightened whenever you were in the same breathing space as he was, but it was always a different story when you were touching him. Hyper aware. There wasn't a better word that would describe how he felt at that moment. He seemed to see everything he wouldn't usually notice; hear his heart thrumming over every other thought in his brain; almost touch the tension in the air and feel that intense heat blooming from his chest outwards.
But at the same time, nothing mattered but the person in front of him, kissing him and making him feel all sorts of ways. He was a gonner and he knew it but he didn't want to fight it either.
You moaned into the kiss when he gently darted his tongue into your mouth, seducing yours in a fiery dance that united your breaths. His hands made their way up your shoulders, the feel of your soft skin awakening carnal thoughts, making him think of nothing but ways to own you, mark you until he was satisfied. He cupped your face in his large hands, holding you in place, unable to get enough of your taste and the sensations you gave him. They made him crave like a man starved and deprived and he wants to take, take, take.
By the time he pulled away, he was a panting mess, eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against yours, willing himself to calm down. He couldn't help the smile that graced his lips the moment he opened his eyes to find you flushed, lips swollen from his kisses. But that was short-lived when he heard a clinking sound on the side of his head and a wicked grin stretched over your mouth. When he followed the sound, he saw the keys to his car dangling on your fingers.
"What –"
You took a step back when he tried to reach for it, effectively holding it away from him. "Prestidigitation," you declared, sounding victorious. "I'm driving. No arguments."
Nanami sighed, his senses still fuzzy from your kiss and the sight of you whirling around in chiffon and taffeta. He just gave in to his affections for you in hopes of coming out the victor, but you still played him in his own game. "Fine. You win."
You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek, stepping off to the side to ring the bell for the shop staff. "I promise not to crash your car."
**
Nanami sat on the passenger side of the car, glancing at the fair-haired villain who stole his car keys, currently driving him to some surprise place of your choosing. He had protested when he noticed how you were going to the opposite way from the manor, taking the highway that led well away from the town. Thrice, he told you to turn back and for every reason he cited, you had a counterattack, not necessarily valid but enough grounds for you to get your way.
"I need to read through the case file and take down notes to make up for the time I'm missing at the firm," came his first excuse but you effectively shot that down by pointing at his briefcase neatly tucked at the backseat.
"Yeah, cause as anal as you are about your job, you don't keep spare copies in your car in cases of emergency."
He jerked on his seat at your comment. "Hey, I'm not anal about my job! I'm just being prudent."
You laughed at the way his voice was raised than usual. "No need to get defensive. Besides, Your initial hearing isn't going to be in two months and by the looks of it, you have everything almost done."
"How did you –"
"I saw them the first day you arrived." Shrugging, it was your turn to shoot him with an annoyed gaze. "You keep forgetting that I have photographic memory. I'm cursed to remember everything."
Truth was, he seemed to be forgetting whose sister you were, letting his guard down and kissing you the way he did. He knew he could have done more if he completely let go of his reins. You were just too tempting, too beautiful and brimming life and infinite galaxies in your eyes which devoured him and made him lose of all sense of time, space and just sense in general.
"Satoru will be looking for you," Nanami attempted for the second time which only earned him an imperious look from you. You said everything in that single action: one, that you didn't care and two, that he was behaving ludicrously.
For the final time, he tried to appeal with something which you would actually give a damn about. "Don't you want to spend time with your friends?"
"Seriously, Nanamin, they're the least of your problems. We're going camping tonight. Besides, they know –" You deliberately stopped talking, your ears turning red, evidently flustered.
"They know what?" he prompted, leaning forward to have a better look at your face to assess your mood.
But then you said, "You're distracting me."
"And you're being evasive."
"If you don't want to spend time with me, just say so." In an abrupt swerve which made his life flash before his eyes, you pulled over to the side of the road, letting go of the steering wheel after you killed the engine. "Drive us home then."
You motioned to remove your seat belt, but Nanami stopped you, shaking his head. Why anything never went right when he was dealing with you was beyond him. "That's not it at all."
"Then what?" you snapped.
Damn, he thought. If the two of you were already fighting the way you are at present, he couldn't imagine how things would be once you were in an actual relationship. Then again, maybe it was the confusion as to what was happening that was causing the unwarranted tension between you two.
He sighed. "You're just too erratic. I can't keep up."
"And you're too fucking vanilla!" you growled.
Nanami was appalled that you would say that same comment in such a way. Leveling his ire with yours, he spat, "That's rich coming from you. Didn't you date that Kamo kid?"
You were stunned at his citation of your former relationship, even more so at his childish attempt at spiting you. It was so atypical of him. "You..." You jabbed a finger at him, about to spit fire when you realized that he cared enough to notice. Your brows knit together. "How did you know about that?"
"You think I wouldn't notice that he's been following you around like a lovestruck puppy during last year's autumn festival?" Nanami scoffed, sneering. "A person like you with someone more boring than the vanilla you claim that I am?"
He was being petty, he knew it, too. The look on your face as you just ogled him in stunned silence says it all. It was as if you never expected him to ever retort the way he did. It was really unusual if he would say so himself since he never really indulged you enough to actually argue with you the way the two of you were doing at the moment.
Out of the blue, you burst out in a fit of giggles, the corners of your eyes watering. "Come to think of it, he acts more like an old man than you do..."
"You dare call me an old man?" He knew your argument was over, but he couldn't help but say it. There was an out of place sense of satisfaction that engaging you in a word joust gave him no matter how unintelligent and shallow it was about.
When you finally calmed down, you said, "I want you to have fun and have a sense of adventure for once. I swear I won't throw your dead body to the ocean."
His left eye twitched at your sentiment. "Well, if you put it that way..."
"Just say yes to me for once."
"I always say yes to you if you haven't noticed by now."
You snickered, starting the engine. "I want you to say yes to me now."
Nanami felt something tug at his chest. "Yes."
"Good." You leaned over and poked him on the cheek.
Nanami sat there, rolling down the window as you drove, letting lose and enjoying the scenery the car passed by on the way to the sea. For the first time in a long time, his face ached from smiling too much, unable to help it.
He knew it and he didn't care if he was doomed. He was in love with you, always have been and always will.
-end of part 3-
*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.
Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S “JUJUTSU KAISEN.” [20210716]
PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
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It was never the plan
It was never the plan to get pregnant with my first child at 34. Hubby and I were married for ten years before this happened. We assumed one of us had "technical difficulties" but we accepted our apparent fate and planned a life of just the two of us.
It was never the plan to have a complicated pregnancy. Gestational diabetes and low fluid levels meant I had four appointments each week toward the end. Throw in breech positioning and that made one stressed out mama-to-be. My husband, God bless him, kept me philosophically and religiously sound by telling me God doesn't give us what we can't handle, He knew I'd be strong enough to accept all these things, that a weaker person would crumble, which was why He chose me for these trials.
It was never the plan to have an emergency C-section. I was 36 weeks along and my water broke. I'd had a non-stress test that morning and the tech mentioned I had one or two contractions but they were so minimal that they barely registered on the machine. After a day of work and trip to the grocery store, my water broke at home. An ultrasound revealed the baby was still breech so a C-section was needed asap to prevent distress.
It was never the plan to be so in love. I read countless books and articles, heard an infinite amount of people tell me the same thing: you never know how much you are capable of loving someone until you have a child. It wasn't that I didn't believe those people, I just wasn't able to fully comprehend this amount of love.
It was never the plan to lose myself. Before Cecilia was born, I considered myself a relatively well organized woman with a strong insight of who I was, my beliefs, my ethics, my integrity. I had a handle on my work-life balance, enjoyed several different hobbies, and there were no questions about how to spend my time. Now is different. "Myself" is not the priority. My beliefs have been altered, my focus has changed, my mind is set. From the time I wake up until the second I close my eyes at night, my baby is my priority.
It was never the plan to stay at home. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I'd be content to not work. I love my career in ways that are difficult to express. Sure, jokingly, I made comments in the past I wanted to be a stay at home furbaby mom, but I knew I'd go stir crazy. Seeing all the changes my little angel went through in the first few weeks of her life, I knew I wanted to be present for everything. I'd gotten so attached to her, more so than I ever thought possible, my heart would break to do something as selfish as leaving her to go back to work, even if for a few hours each day, even if only part-time. Why selfish? Working means money for luxuries I don't necessarily need. Do I need to have 200 channels on the tv? Do I need to take three vacations a year? Do I need to frivolously spend money on clothes/shoes when I already have two closets jam-packed full? Do I need to go out for dinner more than once or twice a month? The answer to all of these questions is, of course, NO. I'd rather witness all the changes and milestones Cecilia is going to make than buy myself a new shirt, or have too many choices on the tv. These are easy sacrifices I gladly make for my daughter. Bills, yeah, we got ‘em, and we’re spending our money on them instead of ourselves.
It was never the plan to have such a wonderful and supportive husband. Throughout my entire pregnancy and after the birth, he's been my rock, my support, my best friend. He's so hard working and I'm grateful beyond comprehension. From preparing our home, transforming the nursery, helping with cleaning / laundry / dishes, taking care of me post-op / incision care / showering, and now working as much overtime as he can get and every other Saturday, as well as a second job five hours each week to ensure we have the means so I CAN stay home, I really don't know how I got so lucky to call him mine. And he's a doting daddy. My heart bursts when he cuddles our daughter, tells her he loves her, kisses her little forehead, calls her beautiful. How did I get so lucky?
It was never the plan for my life to turn out so wonderful. I always assumed I'd be happy, but never THIS happy. Right now, in the moment of writing this, in the glow of the screen as my fingers brush over the keys to type these words, I know this time is perfect. I'm making sure I appreciate these moments, to absorb Cecilia's growth, to document her changes, to witness her life.
These things were never the plan. This "non plan" U-turn my life has taken ended up being the best thing I never knew I needed or imagined for myself. It's made me realize that plans should never be the plan.
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