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#// *but ive always wanted to try and perform something
pommpuriinn · 2 days
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝑒𝓈𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜 1
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。𖦹°‧ pairing 。𖦹°‧ - idol!yeonjun x superstar!oc x idol!jungkook
。𖦹°‧ synopsis 。𖦹°‧ - a love triangle between Hollywood’s sweetheart, Korea’s golden maknae, and Gen Z’s IT boy. Estrella is a very busy woman never had time dating with all her photoshoots, movie offers, recording sessions, dance practices, and public appearances. As she’s doing a little world tour promotions for her latest mini album ‘You & Me’, and let’s just say that stop last a little longer and it becomes a little too interesting.
Italics = korean
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“We are so happy you stopped by in Australia to promote your new album called ‘You & Me’ out now! Thank you again and what’s next? Where are you heading to next?” The kind morning talk host asked Estrella. “Um…it’s a secret.” Fans in the studio whined wanting to hear new info. “I know! I want to say what’s next, but all Megan is allowing me to say that it’s worth the wait and there will be many opportunities to see me. So don’t miss me too much starrys~” Estrella had a cute pouting face, making starrys cheer even louder. “And to where I’m heading next is Seoul, South Korea. I didn’t think I had such a big fan base over there, but I’m so grateful that they love me so much and want me to promote over there and experience their culture. I’m excited.” Estrella smiled at the thought of experiencing another culture and trying new food along with meeting new people.
“That’s beautiful and I hope you continue having an amazing time during this mini promotion tour. Once again please listen to Estrella’s new album ‘You & Me’! And don’t go any where Estrella will also be performing her title track ‘Eleven’ after this commercial break.” Estrella was mimicking the talk host’s action making the audience laugh, but was all light hearted because once the talk host took notice Estrella giggles and pulls her into a hug. “We’ll be right back!” Estrella finished the monologue for the talk host.
Estrella’s makeup staff member quickly made her way onto the stage to do some touch ups. “Sana-chan~” Estrella jokingly gasped, making Sana chuckle at Estrella’s cute characteristics. “She must be a sweetheart to work with.” The female talk host compliments. “She is, but she can be a bit mischievous at times and that’s when you have to be careful.” Sana has many stories of Estrella pranking her with “accidentally” messing up her makeup, or when Sana gets close to Estrella’s face while doing her makeup and Estrella would try and kiss her.
Luckily, Estrella stood still for her touch ups and fixing her outfit before getting into position to start her performance. “Let me retuck your hair real quick,” Sana gently pulls Estrella’s under the white flower chocker (hair like in the photo). “Kill the stage.” Sana whispers, before running to stand next to starrys so she can get the perfect view. The second the lights tone down and shine on Estrella and her dancers the audience went crazy.
ೃᰰ࿔eleven (sorry the audio is bad the person that made the video said the artist of the original song was singing live and the person tried their best to blend ive’s ver and original ver together)
ೃᰰ࿔choreography
The room was filled with fanchants which made Estella smile while singing. Also seeing her lightsticks being waved around excitedly shows how many people came and took time out of their day for support her. Just as the song came to an end Estrella made sure to blow kisses at everyone, as her ending pose.
To many people it’s still weird that a non Kpop artist does and has everything an Kpop artist does, but something about Estrella just fits it so well. Maybe because she was trained like one without all the ridiculous harsh criticism instead was given constructive criticism, and actually helped her work on it. She was taught about fanservice, having fanchants, how important photocards and lightsticks are, always being thankful for your fans who got you where you are today. Estrella didn’t much help with any of those because it just came to her like a second nature; she made the fanchants and posted it on her twitter, she made sure to practice taking selfies for her future pcs, the second Megan mention making a lightstick Estrella already drew it with the thought of how pretty it will look in pictures and with starrys waving it around, and ever since the beginning Estrella was thankful of her fans even if it was just one she would give them a massive hug and express how appreciative she is with just knowing her name.
As Estrella was the last segment in the show she was able to wave ‘bye’ to all her starrys that were in the studio. Estrella was making sure to look at each and every one remembering their faces and all the small details. “Estrella could you sign this?!” A fan holds up a recent magazine cover Estrella did. “Of course!” Estrella runs to the fans making everyone around scream with how close she is to them. “What’s your name?” Estrella looks right into the fan’s eyes. “P-Priscilla.” Poor Priscilla was captivated by Estrella’s big doe eyes causing her to stutter her name. “What a pretty name~” Estrella still holding eye contact smiles while signing and gives back and now signed magazine. “I’ll make sure to come back to Sydney, bye starrys!”
⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒
“Another one down and one more to go.” Megan crosses off the list in her IPad Pro. The crew was currently driving back to their hotel finally being able to relax a bit before their flight the next day to Seoul. “Make sure you write down Australia for a tour stop, please.” Estrella drags out the word ‘please’, making Megan open the tour stop list. “Estrella you practically have the world map on your tour stop list already.” Megan snicker. “Good that means starrys all over the world will have a chance to see me.” Estrella looks out at the window, daydreaming about how her tour is going to look like fill with starrys and their lightstick singing and dancing– “Nuh-uh, don’t start planning the tour already missy. You still need to take a break from working so much before you burn yourself out.” Daya who is now Estrella’s assistant manager, scolds Estrella from the passenger seat erupting her daydreaming.
“Yeah after during some promotional work in Seoul let’s take a mini vacation there–oh! We can also go to Japan and I can show you guys what I grew up with. Plus don’t you love Pokémon mine chīsana hoshi?” Sana was trying to convince Estrella. “I do! Let’s do it.” Estrella’s eyes sparkle at the thought of purchasing all the little cute Pokémon plushies plus the thought of all the cute theme cafes they can go to. “Let’s just rest before planning something else.” Megan couldn’t handle booking more plane tickets and hotel rooms. The migraine was slow seeping through again.
Once everyone showered and all went to rest in their respective rooms for a good amount of time, Megan texted the group chat to meet in her room to give a little run down the schedule in Korea Estrella has. To no one’s surprise both Estrella and Sana walked in with their matching Chiikawa pajamas and matching Sanrio headbands. “Oh was I erupting something important?” Megan holds in her laughter, as she sees not only the matching pieces but they both had a pink skincare face masks on. “No. Not at all.” Estrella innocently answered. “Ah Estrella never loose your bright spirit.” Daya and the rest of the team love how oblivious Estrella could be. They just want to protect her from the world.
“Ok moving on,” Megan cleared her throat. “So once we land we go straight to our hotel rooms and immediately start getting Estrella ready for her interview with very popular television personality, Yoo Jaesuk. Have you been studying more Korean?” Megan looks up at Estrella. She hums ‘yes’, “hi, I’m Estrella Blue and please take care of me.” Everyone clapped. “That was good, and don’t worry you will still have an ear-in so they can translate for you. Next we have music bank promotions only for a week to test out the waters. During that time you can do tiktok dance challenges with some idols, and speaking of tiktok challenges we have this company called Hybe which is the home to many big artists originally know for groups like BTS and Tomorrow x Together. Who want to show you around the building and film again tiktok dance challenges with their artists including showing you around the company. The next one is the ‘You & Me pop up shop.”
“Wait! They aren’t trying to recruit her right?” Daya rises an eyebrow towards Megan. “Hell no! What they emailed me and talked through the phone is wanting to film a little video showing Estrella around that’s it.”
“Good just making sure.” Daya nods. “Then finally attending some Seoul fashion show/parties and that’s it.” Megan sighs, finishing reading the schedule. “I hope I do well guys.” Estrella was stressing a bit about the language barrier and all the new mannerisms she had to learn to make sure not to offend the people of there. “Hey, you got this mine chīsana hoshi.” Sana wraps her arms around Estrella’s shoulder hugging her. “Plus you have a large group of fans waiting for you there already ready to support and cheer you on.” Sana gives some comforting words, hopefully bringing Estrella spirits up. “Yeah, don’t stress Estrella.” Daya affectionately pets Estrella’s head. “Trust me our precious star we will always be by your side. And when things get too much just signal to us, and we’ll be there.” Megan takes a hold of Estrella’s hand gently caressing her knuckles. “Thanks guys.” Estrella pouts, feeling emotional with all the love they are giving her.
⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒
Waking up at the crack ass of dawn, going to the airport and checking in, finally flying then landing. The whole team were like zombies coming out of plane dragging their feet following everyone out. Estrella’s security got close to the team, as they were getting closer to the door leading out to the main airport lobby. “Wait! Before went enter chaos. Let me fix your outfit.” Sana quickly stopped Estella was moving to fix tiny details. “Ok,” Sana sighs. “You’re perfect.” Estrella snickers at Sana. “Thank you~” Estella sings.
The second those double doors slide open bright lights start flashing and the yelling starts. “Oh my god.” Estrella really underestimated the popularity she holds in Korea. Just as Estrella was going to start walking the Korean press was telling her stop and pose for them. “Just give a couple of cute poses.” Megan whispers before getting out of the shot.
“Estrella over here!”
“Heartu heartu Estrella!”
Estrella was trying to do all the heart poses she remembers. Some fans were showing her which ones to do. “Ok that’s enough we have to get going, thank you.” Megan announces to the reporters. Security immediately goes back to Estrella’s side and start their walk out of the Incheon airport. Estrella is surprise with all the phones and cameras that were filming every second of the walk along with fans trying to hand her letters and gifts. “Oh, thank you.” Estrella smiles, and took the gifts. Some fans were trying to get Estrella to complete their hearts which she gladly completed them. What really took the Korean fans’ hearts were when Estrella was saying ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ in Korean as well as giving small bows at them. The team safely made it to their car and Estrella rolled down the window to wave ‘bye’ at everyone who were still filming and yelling encouraging words at her.
“I will enjoy m-my time…”
Estella quickly asks for help, as she forgot some words. “Here in Korea.” Megan quickly helps her. “Here in Korea, thank you.”
“See nothing to worry about.” Daya hands over some more fan letters that Estella missed. “Thanks, and I guess not.” Estrella said, as she looks back at everyone that was waiting for her getting smaller and smaller. “Wow~ they work fast look-” Sana shows everyone the newly posted article of ‘Estrella Blue landing in Korea!’ Megan takes Sana’s phone and starts reading, “The mega superstar Estrella Blue finally lands in Seoul, South Korea and immediately shows her beautiful visuals and amazing fanservice. A born to be artist who has the talent, fashion, and goddess like visuals.”
“Goddess like visuals?!” Estrella is shock at all the high compliments they are giving her. “They also say your Korean sounds so cute and might be a new trend.” Megan adds. “I sound like a baby though.” Estrella chuckles, while looking at all the buildings and people that they were passing by. “Korea will definitely be interesting.” Sana has a feeling Korea might not go the way they thought it will, but in a good way.
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monmuses · 10 months
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// *ive always had this idea of possibly showing some other talents on this blog. like, besides art and ways to try and post world-building, i really want to share how much i love music.
// *ive gotten music lessons and sung with a professional choir for almost 10 years. ive had lots of practice and lessons from them and i just... love singing? like, a lot of the music i love is bc of the various different influences ive had in my life to shape my taste. i just... REALLY love music, and i show that with my characters in songs, playlists, etc.
// *so if theres ever a chance where i get to show or even record myself singing a piece... it'll be eventually. not soon, but eventually when i can actually record HJSFAHJ
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fxtalitygod · 3 months
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Survival. IX
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Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.
Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage
Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentions of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 1-2x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint)
Word Count: 3.4k
JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue
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You remembered the most content morning you had ever had. It was a relatively beautiful and tranquil day in the garden. The sky was clear, and the sun was beaming brightly, yet the weather was pleasant. It was the most satisfying day you had ever had within the temple.
It was also the day your twins spoke their first word.
You had been spending quality time with your twins, your attendant joining the activities as you both basked in their childish nature. She had grown as close as family and acted like an aunt to your kids, and if you were being honest, she felt like a sister to you in some sense. You truly appreciated her company and assistance throughout the time you had known her— especially when sharing this memorable moment.
It felt like it was out of a dream when the word effortlessly slipped from your daughter’s mouth. Moments ago, she was a child who only knew how to babble, laugh, and cry, but now she was a little girl capable of speaking. And if your daughter hadn’t surprised you enough, your son letting the same word slip next had left you paralyzed with shock.
“Mama.”
Yes, it was a standard word for a child to speak first other than Dada or Papa— a cliché, as most would say, but that was the last thing on your mind. To hear your child acknowledge you for the first time and know they recognize you as their mother was a pleasure that could not compare to the joys of sex, alcohol, or money– it is a pleasantry of its own. You swore you would do anything to hear them call you their "Mama" for as long as possible.
And if anyone took that away from you, they would be damned to hell.
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The screams of a woman echoed through the temple. The shrieks were ear-splitting and could cause anybody's ears to bleed upon walking into the hearing radius. You could only listen as the screams continued, the sound muffling out as your ears began to ring again.
Why was she screaming? The woman in question should have been thrilled that your children were deceased– they would have been a threat to her. She was probably trying to win Sukuna's favor in some fucked up way. The bitch had no right to grieve in your presence nor in solitude. You had every want to strangle her soundless; however, something stopped you from that impulse.
Your throat began to burn.
At that moment, you realized the screams of grief and agony were those of your own. Nobody was present in that room, just you and Sukuna, as your cries echoed in the room and nearby halls. You were blinded by your own tears as you stared at the now-blurry image of your twin's hanging corpses, choking on your own sobs as you collapsed to the ground, holding your midriff with the painful thought that the life you had cultivated within you for nine months and raised for six years was now reduced to carcasses hanging from a wall.
Your blessings had been snatched from you, from right under your nose.
You should have known things would have not been so simple. You should have never let your guard down for even a second. This was your punishment for being so blissfully ignorant when you should have analyzed all the possible faults in your plan and anticipated any threats that remained to perform a clean escape.
You stood on weak legs, shuffling to the wall that was covered in blood. In your mind, you always thought that the blankness of those walls would drive you mad– you never anticipated that the splash of color would be the thing that forced you to insanity. The crimson dripping down the wall proved you wrong.
Your hands shook as your fingers hovered over the pins that were holding your children in place, flinching back as you swallowed the bile rising up your throat before reaching for one of the pins again. You made an attempt to hold back your sobs but with little success. Huffs, spittles, and gurgles continued to resonate from you as you held back your cries– you looked pathetic.
Your hands felt weak as you pulled the pin, the audible squelching sound of the flesh rubbing against the item sickening you to the core, yet you persisted. You pulled the lower pins that you could reach from your son and daughter, tears gushing out of your eyes as you did so. No torture was as great as this, especially when you went to reach the higher ones. You stood on your toes, stretching for the pins that were sunk into your twin's hands, but it was futile. Under normal circumstances, you could have reached that high; you would have improvised a way to do it, but your mind was numb, and your body felt weak.
"Help me," you choked as you continued to reach.
The only response you got was silence.
"Please," you weakly whispered, "Please, help me."
Silence lingered again, but before you could plea a second time– your husband spoke.
"Why?"
You paused in your movement, your breath hitching as the simple word echoed in your head.
"Why?" you repeated, bewilderment found in your whisper, "Why?"
Your head slowly turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes gleaming with fury as you looked at Sukuna.
"I'll tell you why," you seethed, "For eight years, I have lived in this temple with you and your sickened whores and bastards– lived in your residence with little to no complaint. I have endured everything bestowed upon me and have managed to keep my spine straight with my head held high– and when in your presence, I have given you nothing but the lowest bows of respect despite the falsities of that action; I sacrificed my pride!" you paused to breathe before continuing, "I bore you children and dealt the blunt trauma of my impossible pregnancy and labor without complaint or ask of favor because you and I both know I would have gladly died in the process. In my life here, I have asked you for ONE SINGULAR FAVOR that would benefit both of us!"
Another pause as you caught your breath.
"The very least you could do," your voice shook with exasperation, "is grant me this one selfish wish."
"Do you understand the line you are crossing, Little Flower," Sukuna threatened as he took a few steps forward.
"Well aware," you answered without hesitation, "but at least if you killed me now, I would reunite with my children and be rid of you," you grinned mockingly at your partner.
You watched as the menacing man raised a hand, keeping eye contact with you as he did so. Normally you would have feared that this was the end of the line, but that was before your worst nightmare had already came true. Some part of you wished that he would hit you, hoping that once he did, he would snap you out of what you hoped what was an illusion of some sort, a night terror, a cursed technique, possibly a hallucination— all three were very much possibilities, but deep down you knew you were in denial, however, you did not want to accept it.
The slap never came.
Instead, your companion reached his arm above you, removing the pins that held your twins hostage against the wall. Sukuna took his time, clearly in no rush, leaving you antsy as you began to wriggle in impatience. You just wanted to hold them and look upon their innocent face. Maybe they were not dead, maybe there was still a breath of life in them, and you could somehow convince your husband to use his curse reversal technique on them due to the terms of your contract.
Maybe, just maybe…
Once the last pins restraining your children were removed, you were quick to cradle your twins, holding them close to your chest as more sobs escaped from your quivering lips. Your fingers lightly touched their skin as you caressed their faces with motherly gentleness. After moments, your cries subsided into a quiet lament as you continued to hold your little boy and girl.
You would have done anything to prevent this fate.
"Mama..." a voice spoke, but excessively strained and quiet.
You jumped up to see your little boy's eyes open no more than a slit. Without hesitation, you rushed to grab his face, babbling words of encouragement for him to stay awake. You were eager as you prepared to attempt to perform reverse cursed technique, but before you could, another strained voice sounded.
"Ma-Mama."
You panicked once more, moving to face your daughter as her condition was nearly the same. You were torn on what to do and had almost turned to Sukuna for his assistance, but it was useless. As quickly as those words were spoken were as fast as they faded back into eternal sleep.
What was this? You had to ask again, but what had you done to deserve this? To be worthy of this torture? Was there not a more deserving candidate for this cruelty you were enduring? Had you just been born to be cursed like this?
Questions raveled your mind, and thoughts ate at you alive– you were beginning to spiral. Your voice, along with many of the other voices from your past, flooded your head, screaming at you all at once as the memories began to invade your consciousness. Your head was starting to hurt from lingering in your mind, far away from reality. If anyone were to look upon your form, you would seem like the hollow husk of a woman based on how you sat there unmoving and totally silent as you stared blankly at the bloody wall– it seemed like you were looking through it like a piece of glass, that is how lost you were, until...
Everything went silent.
The voices in your head had settled, and all you could hear was Sukuna's breathing and your own echoing throughout the room. It was eerily quiet as the two of you remained.
"Their first words were their last."
You spoke without thought; the words had just slipped as you turned back to the father of your children, being met with his expressionless stare. You did not expect a response, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was no happier about this situation than you were; however, Sukuna was not grieving like you were. Your reasons for your dour moods were different, but that did not matter– you both were upset about what occurred.
As you held your husband's stare, it was almost as if you had some sort of understanding with one another, communicating without speaking before turning your attention back to your twins. With caution, you gently lifted your children into your arms, slowly standing as you managed to balance their limp bodies in your hold as you walked toward the door.
Your feet moved without command as you walked through the corridor, Sukuna walking at your side as you ventured in silence. The experience was almost that of your arrival at the temple– all eyes were on you; however, there were no whispers of gossip or vial comments and disgusting displays of arousal as you departed. The tension radiating from your aura was too great for such ill manners to be publicly displayed.
You had no clue where you were going and were hardly thinking about it. Your mind was void of consciousness as you reached the grand doors of the temple, stepping out into the cool night air. A part of you wishes you could have enjoyed it, to relish your first time outside the temple walls since your marriage, but the feeling was bitter and dull, especially as you looked upon the lights illuminating from your village.
Trekking through the terrain, you watched the lights grow brighter and more prominent, similar to the unknown feeling festering in your chest. You could hear their voices, their chanting of uprising as you approached the crowd, stopping just at the border of your village. One of the village elders was the first to notice you and Sukuna's approaching figures before ceasing the noise, focusing on your arrival.
"Y/n L/n, you have finally come home. Your family will be happy to know that you have finally returned," pausing to look at Sukuna before bringing his attention back to you, "It was wise of this monster to return you as requested. Come now child, we shall reunite you with your family."
You could hear him speak and understand his meaning and indirect stab at Sukuna's pride, but the words flowed from one ear to the other as your body remained rooted at the barrier.
"Come now, child, you are free!" the elder insisted as he motioned to you, confused and seemingly irritated at your lack of response.
"No."
The word slipped out seamlessly as you blankly stared at the man, watching his expression turn into shock.
"What do you mean, 'No'?"
"It means what I said," you simply responded before continuing, "Why would I come back to a home that sent me away like a lamb to the slaughter. You presented me like a slab of meat to the man you call a monster as if he were some valued patron, but suddenly, I have become worthy of retrieval after how many years? Why is that?"
"You ungrateful woman! We have pursued you for some time due to your parents' request. They paid handsomely to bring you back home, paid enough to fund our cause."
"And what cause was that?!" you retaliated.
"To kill that vile creature who stole you from us, my dear daughter!"
"...Mother," you whispered to yourself as your mom came into view, your father following her as they made their presence known.
"But it seems his influence has already tainted your mind," your mother spoke with a solemn look in her eyes, "But we can fix that if you just come home." the woman persisted as she held her arms out for a welcoming embrace.
Her comfort was tempting, but there was a lingering feeling of hesitance the longer you looked at the picture. This was something you wished for a long time, to be welcomed home with open arms, but the dream seemed stale as you stood there unmoving.
"Then why were harmless children slaughtered in his place?" you questioned.
"Harmless?" your parents uttered, baffled by your statement, "Those children were born to become monsters along with their father! They were far from harmless! That is why we had to cut them out of the picture!" your father yelled.
"...You did it?" you softly asked.
You could see your father's mouth open before closing, moving his gaze from your eyes to the motionless bodies in your arms. The disgusted faces your parents held were replaced with one of bewilderment and fear. They could finally understand your reluctance.
"Y/n..."
"They were harmless..." you started in a mutter, "They were not monsters! They were innocent! And you accused them of crimes they have never committed!"
"With their upbringing, it would have been inevitable! They were their father's children, after all!" the village elder interrupted, disdain laced in his voice.
"They were not guilty of Sukuna's crimes! They were innocent children!" you voiced, outraged with the small-minded thinking.
You looked to your parents for support but were only met by them avoiding your stare. They believed their actions were reasonable and considered them valid. You were not the one who was influenced... they were.
"Damn you all," you muttered, turning your back to the villagers.
"We did this for you to survive, Y/n! And here you are, well and alive. You kept your promise, so please come home!"
"Survived...survived..." Your chest heaved as you began to laugh hysterically. You placed your children down before rising, "Is this what survival is, just staying alive? Well, if that is the case, then yes, I have survived just like I promised, but with the cost of my life! I may have survived, but I will never live...not without them."
"There will be other opportunities to have children, my dear, with a far better suitor," your mother attempted to persuade, her arms still held open.
"Excuse me?"
That had done it.
"The man you practically sold me to was far from my first choice of significant other, but at least he managed to give my life some meaning, something to live for...and you took it from me, the last crowd of people I thought would do such a thing...how naive of me."
"Y/n, if we-"
"If you what?! Tell me, if you had known those children were mine, would you have spared them, given them mercy?"
No response.
"That's what I thought. You know I had hoped to come home with open arms, and shown by tonight, my wish came true; however, that was before I had the twins– the dream expanded to have all three of us welcomed with warmth...how pitifully optimistic of me."
"Y/n, I cannot tell you those events you hoped for would have come to fruition, but I can tell you this: you can start over, have a family you have always dreamed of... pure children."
Silence.
"They. Were. PURE!"
And just like that, the extent of that unusual feeling lingering in your chest had unleashed. The full extent of your furry had combusted in the form of your cursed energy and technique. Within the blink of an eye, what was once a bustling village full of chatter and laughter was now a blazing inferno filled with screams and cries.
You could see the fire, smell the blood, and hear their screams as they begged for mercy. They cried out for their children and loved ones whose bodies were now burning in the roaring flames, reduced to cinders and ashes. Those who threatened to charge were killed before they could make contact, their bodies contorting in ways the human form was incapable of, causing cries of pure agony as they were left to bleed out in their mangled state– they were retired to suffer in their pain as the life slowly drained out of them. If a suffering soul was fortunate, the fire would catch them aflame and kill them faster, or debris would land in a fatal spot or crush them whole to end their misery.
Viewing the demolished structures and flaming bodies, both dead and alive, was a petrifying view– yet you felt nothing. Your breath was methodical, your expression blank, your body unmoving. Pity and remorse were thrown out the window– fear and anguish had long vanished; however, anger and resentment lingered like a tiny flickering flame that continued to grow with each crumble and cry that could be heard.
Although your exterior appearance seemed calm and collected, your heartbeat said otherwise as it accelerated, pounding against your chest so hard you could eventually drown out the hollers of distress with its rapid thumping.
They were now suffering the pain and torture you had suffered for years to its full extent...
Unlike you, it was the kind of punishment they deserved.
You allowed yourself to view the sight for a few seconds longer before picking up your son and daughter, balancing them in your embrace again, and turning your back towards the village. You began to walk toward the temple, knowing better than to run off, but it was not like you had a reason to go anywhere else. There was no life for you. You were to remain by Sukuna's side until you died, and you were content with that.
"Y/n."
With all the heightened emotions and events that occurred only moments ago, you had forgotten Sukuna was there. The curse user had not muttered a word nor made a movement. He idly watched your wrath unfold, watched as you burnt your home to the ground.
You paused for a minute, looking blankly ahead as you thought of the past and reflected on your choices. Out of every action you committed, there was one you regretted most.
"I should have killed myself that morning, the morning after the ceremony. It would have saved me a lot of trouble and heartache."
With that, you walked off into the night, letting that thought of regret linger in your mind.
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yourlocallyneysimp · 10 months
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Hi! Can you do lyney dating hcs?? Ive been craving for lyney content😭 btw i luv ur work❗️
Lyney dating hcs ♡
A/n: Aw, thank you! I went a little crazy with this one and had a lot of fun writing it! Hope you enjoy it. ✨️
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He's such a gentleman, oml.
He will make sure you're comfortable before he does anything or before anything happens.
He is always checking up on you, whether that be before or after a performance.
He won't force you to perform with him and Lynette on stage, but if you do, a smile would never leave his face!
If you don't like performing on stage, he would definitely wink at you if you're in the crowd.
Lyney always puts a lot of effort into the gifts he gives you! Most of the time he makes them himself.
He has a ton of paintings of you hung up in his home. Not only because he wants to admire your beauty, but also because he thinks photos are not enough!
He definitely has a photo album of you and him safely kept in his bookcase. If you're away and he misses you, he will look through the memories of you and him together.
If you give him gifts, no matter how bad it looks, he keeps it on display. He would definitely brag to anyone about the gifts you gave him.
Lyney also does this magic trick where he makes roses appear out of thin air. A few times, he made a whole bouquet appear!
He loves to dress you up. Especially in circus outfits!
Lyney is very clingy! He doesn't even try to hide that you two are dating, even in public. You could be talking to someone, and he would be right next to you, holding your hand or hugging you from behind.
He loves to have small tea parties with you and Lynette! He makes sure to make everything perfect when a tea party is about to occur. Especially if you're coming.
He definitely will sleep in your room all the time. He can't sleep on his own, claiming that it's too "uncomfortable". He never fails to show up at your room door with a pillow in hand.
He paints your nails and they always come out perfect! ✨️
If you feel upset or down, he would show you magic tricks like making a bunny appear out of his hat! He would do anything to put a smile on your face.
Kisses on the hand, cheek, forehead, lips. Pretty much anywhere. If you're in public and you get embarrassed from the kisses, he would refrain from kissing you on the lips and instead do it on your cheek or hand.
Lyney is very overprotective and worries a lot whenever you go out on your own. He knows you're capable of protecting yourself but he can't help but worry.
He would be waiting right in front of the door whenever you get home from a long day.
Sometimes Lyney likes to put his hat on you. Mostly because he finds it funny when you wear it.
He loves running his fingers through your hair or styling it. It makes him feel at peace.
He bought a small brooch in the shape of a cat. Whenever you don't wear it, he gets upset.
He likes to dance with you, especially under the moon light.
He definitely twirls you around. Change my mind.
Romantic dates are a must. Dancing under the moonlight or having a late night dinner at a restaurant is something that you must do at least once a week.
Whenever you speak about something you adore, he is always listening with a huge smile on his face.
He remembers the small details.
He loves putting roses in your hair and making flower crowns.
He admires your face whenever you're sleeping. He thinks you're beautiful.
He's slightly impatient, but he tells himself that he would propose at the perfect moment.
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pedgito · 2 years
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𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 pt. iv ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary: eddie begins to become a more permanent figment in your life, daily and weekly, but as relationships grow, tensions become higher and mistakes are made, but even with your life falling apart, eddie's there to catch you.
cw: 18+ (minors dni), teacher/student relationship, age gap (21 & 29), oral (m receiving, very brief), unprotected sex (and kinda public, but not really), temporary madness (things will resolve), mention of nude photos, lots and lots and lots of angst, tense arguments, love confessions, stubborn!reader, eddie is so blindly in love with reader it's ridiculous, lots of time jumping and time passed, eddie hates kids unless they're steve's, if i missed anything pls let me know!
word count: 10k - part one, part two, part three
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Eddie couldn’t believe the ongoing success with his band, doing more and more shows during the weekend—sometimes even traveling a state over to perform for a small crowd, bigger than the usual ones that bar drew together, it was recognition—something he and his friends had been after since high school.
And you hadn’t missed a single showing, not since his performance at The Hideout, not when he was doing random shows around Indiana, and definitely not now—watching him perform his heart on a stage in some beautiful Ohio park, it was the small taste of adrenaline and fame Eddie had always sought after—even the groupies were a surprise to him. He knew they existed, he’s seen them approach his friends occasionally, but never himself, not when he was so wrapped up in being around you.
You’re perched on top of the cases of equipment behind the stage when they approach, sweaty and out of breath, normal for how full out they went on stage.
“Beautiful,” Eddie smiles, stringing the nickname over his tongue as he slid between your legs, squeezing gently at your legs in greeting, “did you enjoy the show?”
“Loved it,” You smile, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips, “did Gareth keep those panties that girl threw on stage?”
Eddie barked a laugh, turning on his friend who still looked mortified. “I’ll take that as a no.” You laugh along, resting your arms over Eddie’s shoulders as he turns his back to you, resting himself against the plastic cases of equipment. 
Eddie calls out the small group of girls—very, highly intoxicated drunk girls, as they stumble your way.
“You fellas busy?” One girl asks, speech surprisingly not slurred for how badly they reeked of alcohol.
His friends scramble, a desperate stuttering as they try to think of a response—Eddie is quick to shut an attempt down geared toward him, which was definitely coming by the looks that were being forced his way. 
“I’m spoken for, ladies.” Eddie pipes, nodding his head up to where you were slung over him from above, chin resting atop his head. “Sorry.”
“Oh we don’t mind,” The woman shook off the comment, “your girlfriend can join.”
You expect Eddie to tense at the words, scramble for some type of excuse, but he doesn’t. “I don’t like to share.” He smiles politely, fingers guiding into your own to squeeze tenderly, pulling you further over him until you are barely hanging on to your seat, “I don’t think she does either.”
Eddie glances up at you and your heart soars, “Right?”
You shake your head in agreement, flashing him a face scrunching smile as he leans up to kiss you, feeling satisfied when the girls finally let up and ignore him, directing their attention to his friends. 
Eddie pulls back, enough to look at you but not disconnect you two from the moment, “Whaddya say to dinner?” He asks softly, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck as he turns toward you, “I can actually treat you to a meal outside of my apartment.” 
That was the best part of all of his out of state performances, being able to be seen around Eddie with no shame, in public, like you’d always wanted. You knew the consequences and constraints before you agreed to any of it, but it was still nice, being able to spend time with him outside the four walls of his classroom or home. 
“Are you asking me on a date?” You tease, eyebrows pulling up in confusion.
“Not a date,” Eddie counters, trying to save himself the humility, “—just friends, hanging out, that also see each other naked a lot.” 
You pout dramatically, “Damn—I really like dates,” You sigh, letting Eddie lift you into his arms and steady you back on the concrete, not letting go until your feet hit the floor, “but that’s okay.”
“Then it's a date.” Eddie rushes out, shoving the loose hair from his face, pulling back to look at you with urgency. "Sort of"
Truthfully, you just wanted to hear him say it. 
Eddie treats you to a quiet dinner at a restaurant that’s never busy around this time of night, nestled into the same side of the booth as you pick at your meals—and he kisses you, in public, no fear of being caught or watched; it’s freeing, until it isn’t—the constant creeping feeling that this wouldn’t last, not how you wanted it to. It was bittersweet when he pulled away, a smile on his face, bigger than you’ve seen in weeks. 
You weren’t sure if you could keep yourself together much longer.
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“You’ve gotta tell me the story,” You pester him, pouncing down on his lap, bare thighs resting over his covered ones, the soft material of his sweatpants rubbing against your skin. You had a black pair of underwear on and a shirt that didn’t belong to you—it belonged to Eddie actually; the long forgotten Hellfire shirt shoved in the back of his shirt drawer, now worn by you, “Max never told me much about high school in Hawkins.”
Eddie’s hands ascend the slope of your back, fingers tracing lines against the skin. He shrugs, “There’s not much to talk about—I used to head the D&D club, I sold a lot of weed back then, and barely managed to graduate—“
“Max told me,” You interrupted suddenly, feeling like holding onto that information may have come back to bite you, it felt better to let it out, “—about how long it took for you to finally graduate, I’m sorry.”
Eddie doesn’t seem fazed by it, the resentment so deep in his past that he can’t be bothered to hold any grudges. “Doesn’t matter—I wasn’t raised like most kids, I didn’t get everything handed to me like Harrington did—love ‘em, don’t get me wrong. But, I managed.”
“Tell me more about the club,” You tell him, fumbling to change the subject, not feeling the investment to get deep or emotional, knowing it would probably make Eddie uncomfortable; it didn’t change the fact that you wanted to know everything about him, “was it fun?”
“I’ll have to show it to you someday.”
Someday; like you both had all the time in the world.
You smile, nodding in agreement.
“I always knew you were a nerd, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” You tease, “Any other secrets I should know about you?”
Eddie smiles devilishly, shaking his head, “Not at all.” It’s a sweet attempt at shifting the topic, hoping you won’t notice—and you don’t expect him to open it, he didn’t owe you anything, but it was nice to learn more about him and his life before and outside of his job, the phone ringing from the wall breaks the moment. Eddie looks like he can’t be bothered to answer, but the ringing persists, “Want me to answer it?”
Eddie nods hesitantly, “Just—don’t let them know who you are—whoever it is,” He says, nodding toward the phone. 
That seemed like a given—you remove yourself from his lap, yanking the phone off the wall, cord tangled as it hung below.
“Munson residence.” You greet cheerfully, “Who’s this?”
You hear the voice on the other end of the phone say your name, confused, and your eyes widen in fear—Eddie notices immediately, rushing to grab the phone from your hands.
“Hello?” He says with a slight panic, but then he hears the voice on the other end and relaxes, “It’s Steve.”
You can hear his voice through the speaker, muffled, but a flurry of questions that even Eddie can’t keep up with. “Harrington, seriously—I don’t pry into your personal life, why are you prying into mine?”
There’s a small pause as he listens, Eddie’s face pulling up in frustration, leaning his shoulder against the wall, hand gripped right around the plastic spine of the phone. 
“If she wanted to tell you, she would have—that’s not my problem—-Steve, Steve—buddy, why did you even call? You never call.”
Another short ramble from Steve and Eddie rolling his eyes, he hands the phone back to you. 
“Glad to see you two figured your shit out,” He says with an immense amount of smugness, “Anyways—I need a favor.”
Your laugh brimmed with annoyance, it felt like arguing with a bigger brother—something you never had. “Go on.” You encourage him.
“I need a babysitter.” He tells you—he was on his last leg, you two, well Eddie, being his only choice left. 
“That’s rich,” You laugh softly, “—when have you ever wanted time away from your kids?”
“Look, they’re good kids, I promise.” Steve says desperately, despite the screaming shriek of a toddler in the background. “Bring Eddie with you—I’m sure you two can handle it. I can pay for dinner, literally whatever the hell you want—I’m begging you.”
“Woah, woah—“ You say in an attempt to calm his rambling, “It’s fine, Steve—we’ll help.”
“We will?” Eddie asks in shock, wide eyes spread even wider, not agreeing with you at all. 
“Fuck—thank you, I love you guys.” Steve says with endearment, “Can you be here at six, tonight?”
Eddie shrugs in defeat, not allowing you to take this on all alone, “Yeah.”
“Great, I’ll see you guys then.”
With a click and a sheepish smile, you press the phone back to its rightful place—Eddie looks like he could explode at any moment.
“Seriously?” He asks, arms flailing out to his side.
“You deal with kids everyday,” You point out, “how is this any different?”
“I deal with adults—“
“They act like children, most of the time.” You point out, which he can’t really argue with. “Look, I can handle them—you’ll just be there for support…or whatever. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“Then I look like an asshole,” Eddie says defensively, “that’s not fair.”
“Then suck it up, get dressed—we’ve got some kids to chase around for the night.”
It should be pointed out that despite Eddie’s tolerance for Steve’s kids —he still absolutely despised the little beings and their constantly sticky hands.
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Steve knows you can handle them, which is why he’s out the door almost immediately after you both arrive—he doesn’t question it, and he’s not really sure he wants to dig into what’s going on with the both of you right now, not when he had his own date to worry about.
Eddie’s got the youngest on his hip, barely a year old—the older one, a toddler only a couple years above the youngest, wrapped around his leg, poking her fingers through the holes in his jeans. It fits him well and you can’t help but laugh. He’s rocking the baby lightly, managing the chaos, despite his hair a mess. 
You smile, wide and shamelessly, he sees it coming from a mile away. “Don’t even say it—I swear-“
“You love it,” You tell him teasingly, letting the younger one wrap his fist around a lock of hair, desperately trying to eat it—he knows there’s no use and he doesn’t want the crocodile tears, so he leans into the tug, “you can’t even deny it.”
“I’m obligated to love them,” He defends, “They’re Steve’s munchkins—just look at ‘em.”
It was the big, brown eyes that did you in, their rambunctious and snarky attitudes second—they were the perfect copies of Steve, it was almost freaky.
“Can you take him?" Eddie nudges the smaller one in your direction, “I think he’s hungry.”
If you would have thought half a year ago you’d be standing in Steve’s living room with one of his best friends, who also happens to be your teacher, but also ended up being your more than casual hookup, you'd have called them insane. But, it was exactly your reality. 
You balance the baby on your hip, all while managing to whip up a bottle that the young boy takes greedily, shoving the plastic nipple into his mouth. You’d always been good with kids too, you just had no desire to have any of your own. It wasn’t something you’ve ever admitted to anyone, but you always knew.
Eddie manages to rock the other child into a nap, cradling them into his lap as he takes a seat beside you on the couch, the low hum of the television in the background soothed them both to a deep sleep, and the silence is beautiful but short lived.
“Do you ever think about it?” Eddie asks, pulling a small, child sized blanket over the toddler, “Having kids?”
No one’s asked you—it feels weird to say out loud.
“I’m barely into my twenties, Eddie.” You tell him, “—but no, I don’t want them.”
There’s a long pause of silence.
“You?” 
It feels like the wrong thing to be talking about with someone you’re not even in a relationship with, some sort of invasion of privacy. 
“I’d hoped my band would’ve been touring all over the world by now,” He says somberly, thinking about how rough their start had been, “I mean—it’s cool we’re getting some notoriety now but I guess I always hoped I didn’t have to stay in one place too long, that I could just tour and make music and not have to be stuck here in Hawkins.”
It’s the most vulnerable thing you’ve heard Eddie say—it’s confusing how open he’s being. You want to blame it on the idea that maybe he’s just gotten comfortable with you, and maybe that was partly true. 
“Do you hate it here?” 
Eddie shakes his head softly, careful not to make any sudden, jerky movements. His voice is low, quiet as he speaks to you, “Not as much I thought I would—but I’d rather be doing other things. I never wanted to teach.”
“So, why did you? That seems like a choice that takes a lot of time and effort.”
If he was willing to open up, you were going to ask every last question you had. You didn’t know much outside of his music and your friends, it felt like you barely knew him at all. 
“I worked in my degree for a while but it wasn’t paying well—they needed a teacher there, I needed money and the money was good, it seemed like the right choice at the time—“
“But not anymore?”
Eddie shakes his head, “I almost quit before this year started. I was done, I wanted to move away and do something I enjoyed—it feels like no matter how hard I try, I always end up back in Hawkins.”
“Why haven’t you told them what you do for work?”
Steve, Nancy, Robin, practically everyone in his life. 
“It just seems easier—there’s less to explain. I hate talking about myself.”
“I love when you talk about yourself.” 
Eddie smiles at that, small and closed off, but you see it. 
“Can I ask you something?” Eddie asks hesitantly, since he was already exposing most of himself to you.
“Why didn’t you run the other way?” You feel your neck tighten at the words, throat closing off the words that want to escape. “If you knew I was your teacher—after I did what I did—why?”
You don’t respond for a while, trying to find the best way to explain yourself—it scares the hell out of Eddie. “That was a choice I made,” You say softly, “it was never your fault. I could have stopped this whenever I wanted to, but I haven’t.”
Eddie nods slightly, soaking in your words.
“I get that it’s wrong—I met you as my teacher first, someone entirely different second—but, it just doesn’t feel weird, you know? I know there’s rules and it’s taboo and people can get into trouble for stuff like this, but I’d never try to purposely risk you losing your job.”
Eddie doesn’t have to hear the words to believe you, he’s never expected you to be vindictive and ruin his life, but the thought of getting caught was always in the back of his mind—but truthfully, he didn’t know if he’d care that much. 
“And if I wasn’t your teacher?” Eddie asks with a small amount of hopefulness, an attempt to lighten the dark loud that was beginning to loom over the conversation. 
“There’s no way to know,” You laugh, “but I don’t think it would’ve made a difference for me.”
There’s a thought that comes to you suddenly, but you are terrified of what that answer might be. 
“What if I was never your student?” You ask softly, “Would you have even noticed me?”
“Nance and Robin would’ve still introduced me to you anyways—I like to think I would, yeah.” He tells you honestly, “You’re beautiful, I would’ve fell for you regardless.”
Your eyebrows pull together at his choice of words—there could've been more to it, but maybe you were searching too far into all of it.
You glance over at Eddie, who’s nodding off slightly, the ambiance of the room and exhaustion from the day starting to catch up with him—he catches himself, making a small noise of apology. You use your foot to tap at his thigh gently.
“It’s okay,” You whisper, he adjusts himself slightly, more reclined as he places his feet up on the couch and turns toward you, “if they wake up I can handle it.”
Eddie doesn’t argue, falling into the deep grasp of sleep rather quickly, eyes shut and face slack—you’ve slept beside Eddie multiple times, but you’ve never taken the chance to actually admire how relaxed he seemed while sleeping, less stressed, less worried. It reminded you just how beautiful he was and just how badly you were starting to fall in love with him.
“Breakfast? Again?” Max asks, coffee and donuts in hand as you step up behind her to order your food—and Eddie’s. “Do you do this everyday?”
“No,” You say defensively, cut off by the barista—
“The usual?” Her chirped voice asks and Max looks amused.
You nod quickly, handing over the cash.
“How often?” Max questions, coffee tipped to her lips.
“Three…maybe four,” You shrug, “sometimes five.”
“You’re bringing him breakfast everyday?” Max asks, voice louder than necessary. “Oh my god—“
“It’s breakfast, Max.” You say, pleading with her to keep her voice down, “—I can buy him breakfast if I want to.”
“Oh—don’t pretend I don’t see his tie every morning, that shit has never been straighter.” 
“He asks me to do it,” You reply sheepishly, offering a weak shrug, “it’s not a big deal.”
“So, you two went from hooking up and sneaking around to hanging out in his office every morning?” 
It only dawns on you when Max says it, how the shift happened, when it happened—you went from only seeing Eddie for sex and class, to spending most of your weekends locked up in his apartment—maybe for more sex, but also to spend time with him, and if it wasn’t time at his apartment, it was on the road for shows. 
“We babysat for Steve the other weekend too.” You admit with apprehension, ready for Max’s onslaught of ‘I told you so’.
Max is locked and loaded before you can even stop her.
“I told you so!” Max exclaimed, poking her finger into your arm gently, “Didn’t I?”
You grumble under your breath as the barista hands you the order of coffees and croissants, all nested neatly in the drink holder. 
“This isn’t fair,” You tell her, slipping through the gathering crowd of people trying to grab a quick breakfast—Max didn’t even have class in this direction, but she followed you anyway, “I can’t stop myself from liking him.”
“Liking him? Babe,” She looked at you with a certain gaze of scrutiny, “you’re bringing him food and tying his tie—that’s love.” She sings the word and it makes you wince.
You don’t even try to defend yourself this time because even you know, it’s so painful obvious that you’d look stupid trying to deny it.
“Has he, you know—“ She stops for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “—does he seem to feel that way too?”
A painful case of unrequited love? You weren’t sure if you’d be able to survive that. 
“Only if I wasn’t his student,” He’d been very clear about it, but unfortunately, you were—which made it all so much worse, “but clearly that’s not the case.”
“I don’t know,” Max seems unsure, “—maybe you two should talk, at least before the semester is over and he accepts that offer—“
“What offer?” You stop Max dead in her tracks.
Her eyes widen like she’s told a secret that was never supposed to see the light of day.
“Uh—nothing, it’s nothing.” Max shakes her head furiously, “Just—I heard something.”
“From who?” You lean forward, stopping Max at the steps before she can make a getaway.
“Robin,” She says reluctantly, “Eddie told her that some big label wants to sign them and—and have them record an album and go on tour, the whole deal.”
“And what else did she tell you?”
“That’s it,” Max sighs, your eyes narrow, “I’m serious, that’s all she told me—I thought you knew.”
The betrayal flows through your body—the anger of everyone knowing but you. Why?
“I’ll see you after school,” You tell her in a clipped voice, trying not to wrongly direct your frustration at her, but you couldn’t help it, “don’t wait up for dinner.”
Max catches your hand before you can fully leave her reach, “Hey, I’m sure he was going to tell you—give him a chance to, at least.”
And Max feels horrible, but she lets you go anyway. 
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You hand his breakfast over with a contained restraint of anger—he kisses you boldly, on the mouth, office door still wide open, neither of you cared to noticed. He can see it before you even decide to speak, setting the food against his desk. His tie is still slung around his neck, hair pulled back in a loose bun.
“Look—“
“Why?” You interrupt, voice sounding weaker than you expected. 
“I was going to tell you,” Eddie admits, “I was trying to find the right time.”
The right time? You laugh softly, tossing your half drunk coffee and cold, stale croissant in his trash can.
“So, what does this mean?” You ask, perching yourself against the open door, hands clasped behind your back. 
He doesn’t like the distance, hates it. He takes a few steps forward cautiously, hands held up. 
“I haven’t accepted anything yet—I wanted to surprise you, this weekend—I didn’t want you to find out like this,” He tells you slowly, you frown at the idea of him wanting to surprise you, suddenly feeling like you were being over dramatic, “who told you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Eddie can figure it out himself, it’s not hard to guess, “so you’re leaving?”
“That’s what it would mean—yeah, but like I said—“
“Don’t look at me and tell me you haven’t made a decision already. I know you, Eddie. When did you find out?” It seemed like it hurt more knowing how long he’d been holding onto this information, but you had to know.
“After that night at Steve’s—look, baby—“
You shake your head gently—not here, not now. He couldn’t comfort you here and he knew that, it was a low and desperate blow.”
“And you’re gonna say yes?”
Eddie nods, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He steps to you then, neither of you bothering to close the door as he slides his face around the soft flesh of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands. 
“I can’t go with you,” You say softly, “you’re going to leave and I can’t go with you.”
There was no chance that things could ever turn into more if he left; he'd move on and forget about you, caught up in the tangles of fame and music in another state, miles away. It hurt more than you cared to admit.
“It’s not going to happen soon—I’ve got a few months, we’ve got all of summer, there’s still time.”
This was only ever supposed to be temporary and you felt silly for trying to assume it was anything solid or permanent.
Eddie dealt with the brunt of the weight of the decision on quitting, leaving—not leaving you necessarily, but allowing himself what he’s wanted for so long, since he was a young boy who could barely hold a guitar, even with two hands.
He can’t justify asking you to leave with him, abandon college, give up everything you’d worked so hard for—and you hate that you would do it in a heartbeat, over a silly little situation that started months ago, all wrapped up in complicated emotion now, neither of you wanting address the fact and remain perfect and naive to everything, secured in that bubble you both had created. 
You couldn’t admit how much you cared about him, loved him—and as much as he felt the same, it did feel like the right move. 
“Hey, I’m still here now—I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie tells you, shaking your face gently, your lips parting softly to speak, he captures your lips before you have the chance, hand slipping from your face to grab at your side, pulling you in closely. Eddie inhales, his breath tastes like cigarettes and artificial mint from his toothpaste, it was all so normal to you now.
Kissing Eddie, at school—this should not feel normal to you. It was a momentary lapse of judgement when he crowded you toward the door and kissed you without shame; it was the downfall of everything. You two had become too comfortable with each other.
“Oh wow,” A voice carries from several feet away, the sound of paper hitting a bare palm, slow-clapping their way toward you, “is that why you rejected me?”
Eddie pulls away quickly, allowing you to push yourself away from the door frame, head turning to look at Jason. 
He smirks, sending an unnerving chill down your spine.
“Jason—“
He holds his hand up, waving at you dismissively.
“I just came to drop off my books,” He held up the item in his hand, shoving it toward Eddie—who despite the compromising position he was found in, has no fear, just a look of pure resentment, “sorry for interrupting.”
Eddie tries to remind himself that Jason is kid—a stupid, entitled one, but nothing worth going to jail or losing his job over.
Jason huffs one last laugh, full of disgust and jealousy, shoving the books into Eddie’s waiting hand.
He was about to make a complicated situation that much more messy, door slamming shut loudly on the way out.
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Jason didn’t give you too much time to recover—still reeling from the rejection of his advances during the date, he wanted to hurt you worse, make life hell—and he did just that. Eddie was already preparing for the worse, he knew.
Word moved quickly, like a fucking plague, and Eddie was forced to quit two days later—but Eddie, he seemed relatively unfazed by it all, like it was exactly what he’d been waiting for. 
When they pull you both into the room to speak, you’re met with several pairs of eyes—higher ups and several faculty who were likely also interrogated on the matter, all of which knew nothing, so their only choice was the source, that being you and Eddie.
“Listen, I want to know who’s responsible.” The easy answer was both, but Eddie wasn’t willing to let you risk everything for him. “Who initiated this?”
“Me,” Eddie answers simply, giving a dumb downed explanation of it all, “I used my position and I abused it, convincing her to start a sexual relationship with me—that’s it.”
Your mouth opens in protest, heads turning to you.
“Is that true?” The Dean asks, “Was this done willingly?”
You nod sheepishly, face blushing a deep shade of red, feeling hot and uncomfortable in a room full of people judging your every move.
“Look—she’s of age and I’m sure she’s not trying to seek charges against you either,” He takes a breath, pen balanced careful between two fingers—it takes all the physical restraint in your body to keep you from stabbing it into his hand, and you wanted to maim Jason, cause him all the emotional pain you were feeling right now, but you forced it back down,  “but that’s not how we conduct policy here, so I’m terminating your contract and you’ll need to pack up today, I don’t want to see you here tomorrow.”
Eddie can’t do anything but nod, no real sense of fight in him, he’d accepted it. He was almost grateful.
“As for you, I suggest you adjust your behavior and figure out what’s more important to you—your education or some meaningless relationship.” The snide remark wasn’t necessary, but there was no telling what Jason had actually told him, he had no real concept of what you and Eddie were outside what he caught you two in the midst of.
Eddie accepts the contract offer later that night, you curled up on the couch by his side, his hand rubbing your back in slow, circular strokes. 
It was almost surreal, having happened so quickly, that you hadn’t really processed any of it. You had to figure out classes, adjust to the rumors being spread around, and still try to live a normal life—it seemed impossible, and you didn’t blame Eddie. You’d uprooted your entire life willingly and you had to pick up the pieces.
“I fly out to California next week,” He tells you when he finally hangs up, “sign all the official papers and stuff.”
“Good, that’s good.” You answer absently, eyes glued to the floor, counting the lines in the horrible dingy rug that Eddie wouldn’t throw out, despite how worn it looked.
Eddie smiles sadly, a subtle lift at the corner of his mouth.
“But, I still have a couple months—we’ve been writing songs, sending them out, it seems like this shit is really gonna take off for us.”
“Yeah—that’s great.”
He can tell that you’re not with him, a shell of yourself.
“Robin and Nance want to throw a party to celebrate.” He adds after a few minutes, hoping that will pull you out of your daze.
It doesn’t; it felt like your brain was imploding in on yourself, and Eddie couldn’t be bothered to hold back anymore.
“I love you.”
The words hit you with less of an impact than you expect, laughing slightly, “Don’t say that.”
Eddie pulls at your sleeve, fist shoved up by your face, cheek leaning against it, forcing you to look at him.
“I don’t say that—to anyone.” He tells you, that familiar glint of vulnerability shining through his eyes. “I love you.”
“You love being with me,” You correct him, “You love the sex, and the thrill that came with doing something wrong—you don’t love me, Eddie.”
He’s never looked at it that way, he’s never even thought of it in that sense. And he knows he’s felt this way for a while, but the feeling didn’t hit him until you started staying around more often, doing all the smaller things in his life that he normally wouldn’t do for himself—they were never necessary, but you did them. 
Eddie rubs the pad of his thumb over your brow bone, against the soft bridge of your nose, admiring every line and angle of your face as you stared up at him, defeated. 
“I’m not asking you to say it back to me.” He tells you quietly, but that does nothing but boil your blood, pulling away from him abruptly.
“So what—you want to drop that bomb on me after you plan on leaving? You’re not coming back here, you know? Once summer is over you’re going to be moving to California, traveling, what’s the point?”
Eddie didn’t have a point, it was a need—a need for you to know, in case the feelings were mutual, and they were. But, you couldn’t see this working out positively, not with your entire college career ahead of you, and the rest of his life on the line after one silly little confession. 
“It’s been eight months,” He pleads with you, “I think there’s a few blurred lines in there for both of us, I’m telling you because I mean it, regardless of what that means for us.”
You shake your head in denial, disbelief, all of the above.
“This was supposed to be happy and positive and this huge thing I was going to surprise you with and you act like it doesn’t matter,” Eddie says suddenly, “did you really expect things to work out perfectly?”
“I don’t understand how you’re fine after that,” You respond angrily, “did you want them to find out? Did you want to get fired?”
“I don’t plan to beg for my job back,” He confesses, “—things are good right now, why are you worried?”
“Good? Good?” You spit at him, leaning away from him fully, knees perched on the cushions as you backed away, “You don’t have to go back to school and deal with everyone judging you—talking about you, did you consider any of this for me?”
“When have you ever cared about what people said about you?” Eddie asks, trying to come up with any feasible way to defuse the situation. “Can you calm down—please?”
He remembers how high school was, early college—it was a nightmare, he understood all of it, but he just wanted you present, here in this moment with him. 
“You can’t even ask me to be your girlfriend but you’ll tell me that you love me?”
And that’s what breaks Eddie.
“I was going to ask you at the party.” Eddie snaps at you, his face scrunched up in frustration, eyebrows knitting together.
You draw nothing but silence, resting gently on the palms of your hands as you move to sit, legs crossed in front of you. 
“Come here,” He motions with his hand, patting your thigh gently, you hesitate, “—seriously, come here.”
You scoot back into his arms reluctantly, letting him drag your right leg over his lap, his large, warm hands coming to rest above the curve your ass, it’s not meant to be sensual and it doesn’t feel that way either, you lean into the touch, your own hands coming to rest along the broad line of his shoulders.
“I’m invested in this,” Eddie tells you proudly, not a single waver in his voice, “forget how this started or whatever doubts you have—I want this, I’m serious.”
“But, you’re leaving.” You say pathetically, feeling like it was just another way to wiggle out of the situation.
Truly, you were afraid of your heart being broken—and you weren’t sure if Eddie would care to pick up the pieces. 
“And I’ll always come back—when I’m not working, I’ll be here, and when you’re on break or when you finish with school, I’ll fly you out to me.” Eddie explains slowly, letting your eyes fall to his lap, his hands giving a reassuring squeeze. “I never wanted casual with you, sweetheart.”
“But, you said—“ His hand roses to grasp at your chin, stopping the fountain of words that were about to flow out, another mindless excuse to delay your own feelings.
“I know what I said—and I lied.” He says softly, finger rubbing tenderly at the soft tissue of your lip, the action causes you to pull the bit of flesh between your teeth, soothing the sting of his touch the lingered. “I was fucked from the moment I talked to you at the bar.”
“Stop.” You beg softly, the soft beginnings of a sad smile pulling at your face. 
“Even if I hadn’t gotten this offer, I do it over again—and again, and again—“
The last bit is muffled by your lips, leaning forward to press gently against his own, a quiet noise of encouragement from him as his hands traveled high, squeezing at your waist, sneakily adjusting you closer until you’re seated perfectly over his lap. 
Eddie sighs, “Fine,” He kisses you quick, pushing your hair away from your face, “let’s focus on something we’re good at.”
You hum softly, “Really good at, if you ask me.”
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Eddie insisted on the smoke break, his dick still in your mouth when the words come from his own, you pull back with a look of annoyance that Eddie laughs at, tucking himself back into his pants lazily to pull at your arms, dragging you along with him. 
“Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” He whispers into your ear, fetching his smokes and light as he guides you by your hips out the sliding door. It’s a solid cement wall lining his balcony, safe enough that you don’t feel like you’d fall over the ledge if you decided to look over, but it still didn’t provide much privacy—it was the reason Eddie had his blinds closed most of the time, one peek in and someone could easily get an idea of what he was up to inside—but that didn’t stop him from sliding his hands into the front of your underwear, back pressed against the cold concrete, regretting having let Eddie keep you in the flimsy bra covering your breasts, the hiss that escapes has Eddie chuckling around the cigarette that’s shoved between his lips.
“You mind, sweetheart?” He asks, eyeing the lighter rested on the ledge beside your head, Eddie’s fingers finding their way inside you.
“H—oh, out here, are you s-sure?” You whisper quietly, flicking the lighter until it ignites, hand covering the flame from the wind that threatened to snuff it out. Eddie leans forward slightly, the end of the cigarette burning a bright amber as he inhales deeply.
“Positive,” Eddie nods slowly, fingers curling inside you, the soft pad of his thumb dragging against your clit, “—I mean, as long as you’re comfortable with it.”
Maybe it was the horniness that guided your decision making, but it didn’t matter, you were more than willing. 
“Uh huh.” You nod, voice shakier than normal, a small whine escaping your lips as Eddie’s one finger turns into two, then two to three, all while continuing to take long, slow drags from the cigarette, dusting the ash off over the ledge. 
He’s got a Cheshire grin and an ego bigger than he can handle, your hand grasping his shoulder for support, the line of his thigh shoved between your legs to keep you upright, your hips rocking against his hand with no sense of control—all urgency and primal instinct.
The hand that isn’t being used to support yourself palms the front of Eddie’s sweatpants, the hard and obvious bulge tenting the flimsy material, he grunts around the cigarette, forcing himself closer, your hand shoved forcibly between your bodies as he worked his own hips against your hand, “Fuck—turn around,” Eddie groans out, removing his hand, helping you twist your body until you’re front is pressed against the slab of concrete, sliding your panties down past your ankles until you’re stepping out of them, the soft rustle of his clothes behind you as he slipped them down far enough to pull himself out, cock still just as hard and straining as it was in your mouth a few minutes ago, “don’t want you to hold back, okay?”
You nod dumbly, it was the middle of the night and most of the lights were off outside, it was unlikely that anyone was still awake at this hour, but it still sent a thrill through your body, to your core, the prospect of being caught or heard. Eddie slips into you easily, his front pressed tightly against your back, his hand coming around your neck, pressing against the underside until your head was leaned back against his shoulder, the slow, resting pace as he rocked into you had you gasp at the intrusion, your own arm wrapping around the back of his neck, hand sinking into his curls. 
Eddie wants nothing more than to make this last forever, the slow drag of his hips as he moves against you, holding you gently, it’s so slow—you moan softly with every movement, moth hung open slightly. “Are you still mad?” He asks idly, mouth muffled against your hair.
You shake your head jerkily, a particular thrust has his hand squeezing against your throat gently, a needy whine escaping your lips. “I’m scared—scared, Eddie. I don’t want to lose you.”
Because you love him, but the words don’t slip just yet.
“I’m right here,” He reminds you, groaning as you clenched around him, never getting over how good it feels to be inside you, bare, connected—he’s never been so reckless, but when it came to you, every rule was thrown out, “I’m not leaving.”
“Want you—want you to enjoy it, though,” You reply sadly, “live your life.” And normally, Eddie would hate having such an intense conversation while he was inside of you—but, it was the only time you felt comfortable being vulnerable. You knew Eddie would take care of you, but this felt like the end and that was terrifying. “It’ll be good for you.”
Eddie sighs, burying his face into the side of your neck, breath heavy as he hastened his pace, the hand resting against your neck traveling down your chest, over your abdomen, until his fingers were resting against your pelvis, a gentle push as he coerced you further against him, your hands shooting up to the ledge to keep you upright and from toppling over—Eddie had a firm hold on you though, you weren’t going anywhere.
The cigarette finally fell from his lips, forgotten and left burning on the ground as he returned his focus to you, reminding you just how badly he needed you. “You are my life,” It sounds cheesy, unauthentic, and he hates that—but it’s true, “everything I’ve accomplished in the past eight months, you’ve been there with me.”
Your staccato of moans is loud, unrestrained, the small movements of his fingers against your clit was enough to have you fall to your knees, but Eddie was the only thing holding you up now. “I know, I know,” Eddie soothes, his lips dragging against the side of your face as you leaned back, begging to connect with him, putting you out of your misery as your lips connected with his in a heated kiss, teeth and tongue and swallowed up groans of pleasure, “—can I—can I come—“
“Inside me?” You ask for him, sounding breathless, “—Fuck, please—yes, please.”
“You first, though,” He remarks, your mouth hung open on a silent gasp as his fingers pick up an unrelenting pace, the overwhelming slam of his hips mixed with the quick, tight circles he was rubbing against your clit had you moaning loudly, catching yourself as your hand flew over your mouth, attempting to muffle the noises for your own decency, “—no, no—“ Eddie says quickly, his hand reaching to pull at your own, “—I want them to hear how good this feels for you, okay?”
You nod, letting him hold your hand in his grip, the movements becoming too much, the familiar creeping feeling of your orgasm hitting you as your face turned hot, groaning through the high of it, Eddie’s fingers working you through the comedown, he pants softly against your face, whispering a tender, “Good girl.” as his own movements slow, tapping at your hips until you get the idea to turn around.
He slips out of you momentarily, a blink and you’d miss it, before he’s got your legs wrapped around his hips, guiding you back down onto his cock easily, his hand cradling the back of your head as he fucked into you—you didn’t even care about the cold of the concrete biting into your back, too focused on the way Eddie concentrated, sparing looks from his dick disappearing inside of you, back up to your blissed out face, barely able to make out the soft ‘I love you’s’ that slipped past his lips, coming with a broken moan as he spilled himself inside of you, hips working jerkily through the orgasm.
You could blame it on the euphoric high of sex, but it felt needed, and your heart tugged with every confession of love that came from his mouth—you couldn’t let him leave without saying it.
“I do love you, Eddie.” You admit tensely, his face faltering slightly as he pulled out of you, carefully resting you back against the ground, “I just—I don’t want that to hold you back.”
“You don’t want to be together?” Eddie deduces, slipping his sweatpants back over his hips, eyes solely connected with your face as you pull your underwear over your ankles and back onto your body, allowing yourself some decency.
“I’m just trying to say that—maybe you should see what’s out there,” It hurt to say, but it felt selfish to keep Eddie tied to you, not when he and you had so much ahead of yourself, “I’ll always be here, but I don’t want you to worry about me—go and do your thing, enjoy it.”
“But—“
“For me,” You beg, “—let’s not label this, not now—I don’t want you to end up hating me because you still feel tied here. Get out of Hawkins for a while, away from everything.”
Eddie doesn’t understand it—but he nods, knowing that it would be a losing battle to argue with you, your mind already clearly made up. He’s so caught up in the negative that subtle confession of love doesn’t even cross his mind.
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The calls are almost daily, at first—typical recounts of his day, all the crazy things that were happening, fast and overwhelmingly, but you could hear the change in Eddie’s voice immediately—he was happy, it was evident in the way you could practically hear him smiling through the phone.
A week turned into two somehow, telling you how Gareth and the others really wanted to do more sightseeing, and it wasn’t much of a surprise, you tried to reassure him that it was fine.
Eddie knew it wasn’t, but he tried to remember what you’d told him. Get away from Hawkins.
And there’s a lot of disappointment when you manage to sneak through the rest of your semester, still the giant focal point on everyone’s mind, but then summer comes around—and Eddie doesn’t. 
You stay with Max, back home, contained in the small trailer park she spent most of high school living in, just across from Eddie’s old him—it’s a constant and daily reminder, painful almost. You met Wayne briefly, without the idea that he knows about whatever history you and Eddie had, and he’s a nice man—it explains a lot of how Eddie carries himself. 
Calls become every other day, to weekly, to scattered over several days—from talking for hours to only managing to squeeze in a ten minute conversation before Eddie was being rushed off somewhere; meetings, shows, everything under the sun. They gain popularity fast—sold out shows, faces plastered all over town on posters, merchandise being sold everywhere. 
“I might get a couple weeks off around Christmas,” Eddie tells you at the beginning of December, in the middle of you and Max setting up decorations and dressing up the tree, you’re perched on her counter, foot tucked under yourself, “—it’s been nonstop.”
“But, you’re enjoying it?” You ask hesitantly.
“Yeah—yeah, it’s been crazy.” His astonishment is genuine, but you can hear the pain in his voice. “I just miss you.”
“We all miss you.” You tell him with honesty, dealing with the constant badgering from everyone about what Eddie was up to—you didn’t mind, it was nice that they cared. 
Eddie does manage to see you at Christmas, it’s a week of subtle bliss and time spent with family and friends—like everything was suddenly normal again.
“No way, Eddie—“ Max exclaims at that skateboard grasped tightly in her hands, shaking it excitedly, “how did you get this?”
“It’s a secret,” Eddie says sneakily—it was the one thing Max had been saving up for the past few months, but Eddie put all of that to ease, showering everyone with nice, niche gifts—it was his way of showing love for the support they offered, even if he wasn’t materialistic at heart—he had more money than he knew how to spend now, “—I’m gonna take a smoke break.” He excuses himself, letting the rest of the group mull over their other gifts to be exchanged. He nods at you subtly, beckoning you to follow.
His hand slips into yours and pulls you out of the front door of Max’s trailer, taking a seat on the top step, allowing you to plop down ungraciously between his legs, turning sideways to rest your head against his knee, the familiar smell of lighter fluid filling your nose as he flicks the flame alive and lights the cigarette. 
“I know you said no gifts,” Eddie begins hesitantly, slipping the cigarette between his fingers as he searches through his coat pocket, handing over the white envelope with a small shake to his hand, “but I never listen to you anyways.”
You pull at the opening, sliding the stalk piece of paper between your fingers, “Eddie,” Your voice is soft, overwhelmed, “—you can’t fly me all the way out to California.”
“Everything is already paid for,” He assures you, “I wanted to have you stay with me for the rest of the break—I was hoping you’d come back with me.”
“But, I—“
“Max already knows—she threatened me for not asking you sooner.” 
You both laugh softly at that, delicately placing the envelope to the side. You couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this—you were free of responsibility for the next few weeks, nothing but time on your hands; time you wanted to spend with Eddie.
“It’s beautiful there,” Eddie tells you, “You’ll love it.”
You smile widely, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek as he raises the cigarette back to his lips. 
Now, how the hell were you supposed to follow that?
“I—kinda got you a gift too.” You start off, pulling a small, leather bound book from your jacket pocket, keeping it just out of reach, Eddie’s fingers coming up to attempt a grab a it, “—and it’s not as fancy or extravagant as yours, but just—keep in mind that I did this with the thought of me not being able to see you once you left. So, it feels stupid now—but don’t open it here.”
Eddie snatches the book easily, ignoring every word you’ve said. 
His mouth drops open in surprise, eyes dragging down to you in a heated gaze, “Sweetheart—this is—holy shit.”
A full booklet of pictures—of you, in various states of dress, some fully clothed (in his clothes), some in thin lingerie, the more scandalous ones toward the back of the book—fully nude and in various poses. It was meant to be something for Eddie to keep with him while he was away, a reminder of what he always had to come home to—your face burned hot as he flipped through them, Polaroid after Polaroid. 
Eddie couldn’t even allow himself to form words, stubbing out the cigarette with urgency as he turned full attention to the gift, smiling so hard his cheeks had to be hurting. 
“I told you to wait,” You complain lightly, “—sorry if it’s too simple.”
Eddie turns the book on you, flashing one of you in a black lingerie piece, on your knees with your breasted nestled high in the confines of the uncomfortable getup—it was the first and last time you’d ever find yourself in that type of clothing, but for Eddie, it was worth it. The pictures left little to nothing to imagine and it was exactly what you wanted for him.
“This is fucking amazing.” Eddie responds with fervor, snapping the boom shut and shoving it safely inside his coat pocket—no one would know it was there besides him, and you. “God—I missed you so much.”
You pout slightly, letting him drag your chin up with his fingers.
“I missed you too.”
Everything felt right again, for once.
You grimace at the sight of him, dressed up in full tuxedo. It’s like a weird deja vu moment as he walks through his bedroom door and into the living room, “Okay—this feels weird.” You tug at the dress uncomfortably, adjusting your breasts where they felt like they were about to slip out of the fabric, your mind trying to justify why this was all necessary. “Do we really have to go?”
“I made reservations a month ago,” Eddie says dejectedly, “—do you really not want to?”
If you didn’t already feel bad, that made you feel worse.
“Fine—fine,” You sigh, Eddie spreading his arms wide to let you examine him—it was too professional, a stark reminder of just how quickly Eddie could fall back into that side of his life, though his hair flowed freely over his shoulders, which kept a part of his effervescent personality alive, “but I don’t know proper etiquette at these places, I’m probably going to embarrass you.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t have a fucking clue either.” He chuckles softly, rubbing his hands against your bare arms. “That’s what makes it fun.”
And the restaurant is just as intimidating as you expected, a menu full of things you couldn’t pronounce, wine that tastes horrible for how costly it was, it was nothing like what you were used to—Eddie looked out of his element too, both of you constantly giggling over how ridiculous this all felt. The small talk is nice, until the conversation dies down and Eddie gives you a look—it makes your heart skip, the fear of what was coming.
“It’s nice to finally be able to take you on a proper date, at least.” Eddie digresses, stabbing his fork into the meal on his plate. “I don’t have to hide you anymore.”
He could show you off proudly—even if you weren’t officially his, not that it mattered.
You laugh softly, a lousy response, but Eddie didn’t mind. It was a painful reminder of how difficult things still were back in Hawkins, shunned by the majority of the people there—aside from your friends, class was nearly unbearable anymore. 
“How’s school?” Eddie asks timidly, your eyes averting to your food.
“It’s okay,” You shrug indifferently, “I’m managing.”
The last thing you wanted to do was put a damper on the date, but Eddie pried anyway. He’s silent, like he’s waiting for you to give an honest answer.
You sigh, placing your fork against the plate gently.
“What?” You ask flatly, “Do you really want to hear about how it’s going?”
Eddie nods, following your actions. 
“I’m barely passing,” You admit, “No one talks to me but everyone stares, none of the professors will offer to help me outside of the classroom because they think I’m some leper that’s gonna get them fired.” Eddie looks like he wants to interject, but lets you continue, voice shushed enough that it’s not drawing attention, but the air between you two is tense, “If I’m not in class, I’m stuck in my dorm—I don’t have a social life outside of Max. It’s horrible, Eddie. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Eddie’s mouth opens in the beginnings of another apology.
“If the words “I’m sorry” come out of your mouth, I’m stabbing you with this fork,” You threaten, flipping the fork in your hand until the pointy end faces up, “don’t start apologizing to me like you’re the one responsible—I’m an adult, I’ll deal with it.”
Eddie sighs, twisting the expensive cloth napkin in his grip, he doesn’t have his rings on either, it’s strange—it’s almost like you were seeing him for the first time again. 
“I guess this is a bad time to ask you to be my girlfriend,” Eddie laughs bitterly, “and possibly suggest moving you out here.”
Your eyes widen, both in shock and at the absurdity of what he was asking by dropping those types of questions on you. 
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Eddie points out, motion to your face. 
“Move here, Eddie?” You ask, “Are you out of your mind?”
“It’s selfish and impulsive, I know.” Eddie admits.
“Is that the only reason you bought me the plane ticket? So you could butter me up and hope that I would want to stay?” You ask in disbelief, “What the hell?”
You couldn’t handle it—this, the whole entire thing, it was strangling you and you wanted out. You needed a moment to breathe.
The loud screech of your chair is the last thing Eddie hears before you’re storming off, leaving the choice up to him as to whether he should follow you or not. It isn’t even a thought to Eddie, throwing cash on the table to cover and chasing after you, determined to make this work—no matter where you or he ended up.
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He catches you halfway down the block, heels in hand, attempting desperately to escape the program. You needed to face it, you should have, but your first instinct was to run. 
“Stop,” He pleads, footsteps creeping up behind you, “hey—please?”
“You didn’t come back,” You spit out, turning on the balls of your feet to face him, “you promised, Eddie.”
“That’s why I wanted to bring up the idea,” Eddie says carefully, “Things are crazy and hectic and I just want you here, with me, all the time—that’s all I want.”
“So, drop out of college and move into your expensive apartment—turn into some fake housewife that waits around for you all day?” You ask with a slight sense of disgust, “Is that what you think of me?”
“There’s colleges here—good colleges. I have a friend at USC, we can figure it out—“
“What about everyone back home?”
“Coming here doesn’t mean you can never go back—“
“Why are you pushing this so hard, Eddie?”
“God—because I fucking love you. I want to be with you. Every time I bring up the idea you change the subject or run the other direction—am I reading this wrong?” Eddie asks in desperation, hands stretching outwards, his tucked shirt becoming a mess.
“It’s not that—“
“Then what?” He asks viciously, “You won’t even tell me that you love me—if you don’t, then why are you here?”
“I did tell you!” It’s turning into a shouting match, but neither of you can be bothered to care, “The night you accepted that offer—I said it but you,” A finger shoved into his chest, “weren’t,” another sharp jab, “listening.”
Eddie steps back, face falling as he tries to recall the conversation—how you’d begged him to go, do something for himself, so caught up in the idea that he grazed over the confession completely. Part of him hoped he could balance it easily; work and love, like it would be simple, but it was the hardest thing he’s ever tried to manage—being away from you hurt more than he ever expected. 
“Look,” Eddie takes a deep, collective breath, “I’m not forcing you to come live here, I just wanted to give you the option—you can enroll in college here, we can live together. We can be together, like we should’ve been from the start—I just want to be with you. You can start fresh here—let me fix everything that I screwed up for you.”
It’s almost too good to be true—how quickly your life could be fixed if you just fled town and ran off with Eddie; everything in your body was telling you no, no, no—but the words that come out of your mouth are saying otherwise, giving in to the idea that moving here with Eddie; it didn’t sound as bad at you were trying to make it out to be. You were just young and scared and afraid of things going badly.
“Then no bullshit,” You tell him, “ask me, right now.”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
“Fine,” Eddie takes a step forward, hands sliding against your cheeks, the warm flush of your face stinging his cold hands, “—move here with me and let me call you my girlfriend?”
“Does that sound ridiculous to say?” You ask with a small amount of amusement.
“I mean—yeah, but nothing in my life has been anything less than ridiculous,” Eddie protests, “the way we met—ridiculous, losing my job and striking big here—ridiculous, but falling in love with you—not at all.”
You nod slowly in understanding, letting it all sink in. If there was ever a time to take a chance, it was now. You were tired of constantly second guessing yourself.
“I’ll take a semester off school,” You tell him, watching his mouth pull into a small smile, “—not because I’m moving here, but because I need it—and I’ll start back into school next fall.”
“Whatever you want to do, I’m okay with that.” Eddie confesses, “I’m starting to get my life together, finally—I just want you to be happy.”
And you knew how unhappy you were away from him, he could tell with every phone call, longer and further apart—he was starting to lose you—but he wanted this to be your choice.
“And Eddie?”
“Hmm?”
“I hate fancy restaurants,” You tell him, “and big gestures.”
“Noted. ” Eddie stammers quickly, “Let’s go home?”
You smiled, leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his lips.
“Yeah—let’s go home.”
You could figure out the semantics later—allowing yourself to finally have something you cared about, without guilt. It didn’t matter how you found each other, but that you did—and all you cared about right now was Eddie; it was the one thing in your life to hold onto and you were never letting go.  
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caligvlasaqvarivm · 28 days
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love all your thoughts on eridan so much!! ive had erikar as a passive concept in my head since i started slowly rereading homestuck, bit i never invested as much thought into it...it makes a LOT of sense.
very curious on your thoughts on eridan and nepeta, if you have any? i dont really see much around of the two of them and how they may act around each other (most likely because, iirc, they have basically no substantial interaction in the comic....) but its a concept ive twisted around in my head a little.
Hahah, one of my friends is a Nepeta roleplayer, so we have hashed this OUT. Basically, I think if they talked a bit more, under the right circumstances, they might try pitch for a bit, but resolve to normal friendship. TL;DR, at the end of the day, they just don't really have anything to particularly hate about each other, or to particularly love, but I think they'd make for really good friends actually, if Eridan gets his shit together and Nepeta comes out of her shell a little more. She might wind up having to play auspice for him because... he has a lot of problems... and as a Heart player, with more proximity to him, she'd realize "oh, wait, he's not that bad, hes just mentally fucking ill," and there are people on the team who would not give him that kind of grace.
Flushed is pretty canonically off the table - despite having hit on her several times, Eridan seems to have accepted the rejection, and Nepeta herself comments that it always came off as "cr33py and insincere", which it probably was - he's clearly not over Feferi, and has a kind of "please god anyone would be fine I just don't want to be alone" vibe. Nepeta is definitely looking for more sincerity than that, and although Eridan's Type is very much cheerful, bubbly, nice girls (what he thinks Feferi is), I think they're pretty incompatible overall.
His antics and Emotional Issues would probably be super taxing on Nepeta long-term, he'd wind up in a million fights with protective Equius (Eridan is a crazed murderer even just objectively), and he's really not a particularly kind or pleasant person.
Meanwhile, although he's basically willing to go along with anything that'll get him attention, I think he'd be very puzzled by Nepeta's expectations that he do Romantic Things, or otherwise adhere to certain romantic tropes and social norms, which he can't do; when this inevitably leads to hurt feelings, his response to perceived danger is "fight," so he'd probably end up making it worse. So! Flushed is flushed. Down the load gaper, I mean.
Trying on pitch, I think if Nepeta was already a little bit out of her shell - say, Equius has died, or she's otherwise locked in a SGRUB dungeon with him, or something like that - she and he would come to blows over Eridan's performative casteism. Nepeta's the anti-casteism troll, after all, and if she's worked up enough, she's quite spirited and opinionated, and Eridan is down for anything, so it would be something I can absolutely see forming.
Actually, hilariously, when my friend and I RP'd this out, Nepeta wound up with a pitch crush, and Eridan wound up with a FLUSHED crush, because he was THAT BAD at differentiating between good and bad attention. Nepeta was totally floored, she was like, dude i was calling you stupid and terrible??? how the fuck did you interpret that as FLUSHED??? and eridan was like i dont know... maybe... i might have mental illness......
The problem is, I don't see their pitched dalliance lasting, for two main reasons - the first is that Eridan wouldn't hate Nepeta long-term, even if he can work up some caliginous energy because he's desperate; she's too genuinely nice and kind and he loves nice and kind people. Similarly, Nepeta wouldn't be able to hate Eridan the more she got to know him - since he's kind of the least casteist highblood, despite his initial impression, she would lose her fundamental reason for opposing him, and would instead start going "oh god, hes so traumatized, he's like that because he's really messed up inside."
The second is because I think they're dangerous for each other, physically. Eridan is a volatile highblood with severe emotional problems and a bodycount in the thousands, and Nepeta is very reckless in the face of danger; I can genuinely see them going a little too hard and Eridan getting a bit of a highblood buzz and winding up severely injuring Nepeta, which he would feel completely fucking terrible about, and then not allow himself to ACT like he feels terrible about it. Even if they stay in the relationship, it would kill his vibe, since when he isn't on an outright murder spree, he doesn't want to hurt his friends ("wwhat kind of friend wwould i be"). And that's not even factoring in how much EQUIUS would flip out over it.
I also don't think Nepeta is particularly equipped to deal with Eridan's problems, even if she does recognize and sympathize with them more than most on their team. Although she'd have more success than others, I think it'd leave her exhausted, because Eridan is exhausting. A Heart player obsessed with true feelings and sincerity and genuineness is just a bad match for the kid who's 90% façade.
So, ultimately, I think they'd resolve to really good friends, and Nepeta might wind up being a middle leaf for Eridan in an auspicetism situation, since Eridan... tends to draw aggro, and Nepeta at least would care about him enough that she doesn't want to see him get killed (even in the comic, as Nepetasprite, she expresses sadness that Eridan is dead, although she doesn't seem to know about his murders).
Eridan is also a roleplayer, lest we forget, and if Nepeta is able to draw out rare flashes of genuineness, they do have a bunch in common - she could commiscerate with him over the thrill of the hunt (although she'd have to be careful not to get too into the weeds about the, uh, Troll Murder aspect), RP with him (in a safe environment), or gossip about romance. They're both pretty painfully sincere people at their core, so while I ultimately don't see them being particularly romantically compatible, I do really love the idea of them being close friends. If only Eridan didn't always make things Fucking Weird.
And also since I really love pitch FefNep, Nepeta becoming friends with Eridan would help fuel her hate dates with Feferi - ":33 < do you even realize how messed up killing lusii fur YOU left him???" "W)(at would you )(ave preferred, t)(at my lusus went )(ungry and krilled everybody? 3X0"
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peonysgreenhouse · 29 days
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-`♡´- kisses + the 13 flame-chasers
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summary: what it says on the tin!
tags: flame-chasers x gn!reader, griseo's is platonic of course, fluff, lots of kissies.
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i. kevin kaslana
kevin’s last try at love had left him unable to touch anything living, his body now colder than ice. he craves the contact he once was able to give and receive freely, but to sacrifice his own body in pursuit of the MOTH’s goals was something he was more than willing to do. but even the icy-hearted first flame chaser has his moments of weakness. in those moments he’ll grab your tie, or the end of your skirt and bring it up to his lips, inhaling the scent he was never close enough to know, and wonder how warm your skin felt underneath.
ii. elysia
elysia adores everything about you, and she wants you to know how much you are loved every moment she is with you. she places kisses to any place she can reach, but more than that she loves watching your reactions. so human, so beautiful. it’s not rare to end up with her rosy gloss all over you.
iii. aponia
aponia likes listening to you breathe. underneath a tree in the tall grass, your head in her lap. it’s one of the few times she feels she can live in the present. the future is the farthest thing from her mind as she leans down and places a kiss to your forehead, telling you to go to sleep. she doesn’t command you to do it so, but with her soft humming, you soon drift off. aponia kisses your eyelids, then, and prays for your dreams to be pleasant.
iv. eden
her lips taste of the finest wine; how could you not get intoxicated after kissing her? the high of eden’s performance doesn’t wear off for hours, and she loves to perch you up on her vanity and kiss you until she’s satisfied… and eden is hard to satiate. out of all the endless riches she has amassed, you are her favorite treasure of all.
v. vill-v
the great magician loves to woo you with her performances. look down into their hat and when you see nothing inside, she’ll tilt your chin up and give you a quick peck.
the expert likes to ramble off her ideas for projects — you’re the only one allowed in their lab. it’s not often they get excited about things, but with you there she finds that old passion for inventing return in spades. when you aren’t looking, she’ll place a lingering kiss to your temple, whispering out her thanks.
vill-v loves you wholly, with every part of themself.
vi. kalpas
you’re one of the few who has gotten to see under kalpas’s mask. his skin is fair, sunken pale eyes tired and angry. it’s the first time he lets you see underneath that you finally get to kiss him. his teeth are bared, and he threatens to kill you for standing so close. but when your lips touch his own, all feigned malice melts away, and he pulls you into him hard.
vii. su
his kisses are featherlight, as soft as a summer breeze. as busy as he is with his work, he will always find pockets of time to spend with you. even if it’s just as small as kissing your cheek before he leaves for work, he will remember your loving eyes, the way the morning light made your skin glow, your small smile… yes, this is one memory that will follow him forevermore.
viii. SAKURA
SAKURA always looks for you after battles. she is covered in bruises and cuts that will leave ugly scars later, but she needs to know you’re okay; that the one person left that she loves is still there. she ushers you someplace quiet and hums, a familiar song that she once sang to RIN and patches you up. you tell her of an old superstition that you once heard, and she takes it to heart. SAKURA doesn’t let you go until she’s placed her lips against every future scar, promising you that next time, she’ll keep you safe.
ix. kosma
try as he might, he will never be able to figure out what you’re thinking. when you reassure him that you like him, he wonders if you mean in a way that he can sit close to you. it’s easier show him what’s on your mind, tilt his chin up and plant a sweet kiss to his lips. kosma will think about your touch for a long time, one hand touching his lips and the other balled into his tunic. he hopes you’ll kiss him again and again.
x. mobius
mobius tastes sickeningly sweet, you sometimes wonder if her lipstick is laced with poison. when mobius kisses you, it is needy, her lips moving hard and fast against your own, pressing you against her lab table. when she pulls back, you’re seeing stars, and she grins at you like a predator. you can’t help but think if this is where you die, it wouldn’t be so bad.
xi. griseo
mama aponia tells griseo that kisses are reserved for people she loves. and so she gives mama aponia a kiss on the cheek before she goes to look for inspiration. today, you are her muse, and you sit for hours as she paints every color that she sees in you; each one unique to you. once you’re done, she tugs your sleeve and tells you to come look. you tell her it’s beautiful, and she kisses you on the cheeks as thanks.
xii. fu hua
hua fights with her fists, and so the bruises left on her knuckles are forever rosy, never allowed to fully heal. when she spars with you, she never goes easy, and you’re face down in the dirt after only one round. she notices the deep purple of fresh bruises on your hands, and places a kiss to each one, praising you for trying so hard.
xiii. pardofelis
pardo loves all things shiny, but she’s found she doesn’t mind being paid in kisses from time to time. she purrs as you take her cheeks into your hands, kissing her all over the face. felis can’t help but laugh at the way it tickles, falling forward into your lap and nuzzling into your neck.
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dinogoofy · 8 months
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I KNOW IVE BEEN GONE FOR A WHILE BUT I COME BEARING GIFTS HEEEHEE
This starts out as bullet points but there's a fully written scene at the end, its just long enough that I'd rather put a cut so that it's easier to scroll past if need be.
Also, if yall were fans of Draco and Hermione as a ship, EAT UP!!!
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Mk1! RAIN X RIVAL! READER
Think about it!!! The institute of sorcery is the perfect setting for some delicious rivals to lovers settings!
You are a very far off descendant of Shinnok, and for generations the magic in your bloodline had completely vanished. But unexpectedly, this magic resurfaces full force in you. Similar to the power that very first demigod would have had.
Empress Sindel (THINK OF HER AS MORALLY GREY I promise I'm not trying to make her seem evil ;-;) sees your potential to be a skilled outworld warrior, and sends for you to be enrolled in the institute of sorcery.
Thing is, although you have a good heart and good intentions, from a young age, you had never been able to do regular magic. With how powerful your magic is, it baffled those around you. Very few knew the truth that even you didn't know. And that truth was that you simply couldn't perform those magics. The magic in your bloodline was dark, and repelled by any elemental or healing magics.
Despite this downfall, you had a knack for raising the dead in particular. Curses, hexes, and dark magics came easy. You were so innately good at it. Sindel didn't want to loose someone with so much potential, so you became the Institution's pet project.
You were unenrolled in regular classes. Instead, you studied privately with professors. You learned forbidden magics, magics that only you had been able to harness completely without any drawbacks or side effects.
This was common knowledge for professors and students alike. Most avoided you, leading to eating alone for quite a few meals, but some resented you. It simply wasn't fair that you and only you were given the right to learn magic that had been forbidden for anyone else to learn.
One such person was Rain. Rain hated that fact and hated you for it. He would go out of his way to make problems for you. Trip you in the hallways, snicker at your fruitless attempts at elemental magic. Even some of the few plant matter components you needed to collect for a practical exam would come up dead and downed in the gardens. The two of you spent your academic days bickering, even into adulthood.
Even so, Rain wasn't particularly liked by other students in the institute either, due to his prowess with water magic and the jealousy of others. The two of you were both loners for similar reasons. He started to sit next to you during mealtimes to mess with you over petty things, but a few times turns into many. You two started to eat together almost always, go into the gardens together to pick spell components, you would even study together into the early hours of the morning, tired eyes flicking from page to page before simply giving in and falling asleep, then scaring the other awake and boast about it.
As you grew, the bickering remained, but the malice and hatred behind it did not. Sure, you may have been bickering whnever you spent time together, but surely a bit of fondness had formed between the two of you.
One day, you and Rain had a particularly rough fight. More so than usual. Wounding words were said, and Rain said something that struck you deep to your core.
You couldn't heal. You couldn't control water, or fire, or earth or nature. What kind of magic user were you when you couldn't even do the basics of magic as a whole? You were supposedly "powerful" but you hadn't even tried to explore the world of magic beyond your dark and shadowy bubble.
The words had hurt. And it was days before Rain would see you again. You spent your time tucked away in a secluded corner of the library, trying again and again to use these magics you had failed at as a child, and even now you were failing.
Then, you find something in the garden that breaks your heart. What you would do next would break it even more.
---
It's late when Rain finds you, slumped over your desk in tears. He's taken aback. He came to see where you were when you didn't show up at dinner, curious as to where the Golden Child of the academy had gone during mealtime. He didn't expect to find you here like this. Your desk in the library is littered with papers. A single candle lights the area, and a small sparrow lays dead before you.
Rain opens his mouth to speak, but you sit up, wipe your eyes, and after a moment of silence, start to speak without ever looking up at him
"I killed it." The words come out as a whisper. Rain furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
"What?" He moves to stand behind your chair. You still can't bear to look at him.
"I killed it." You say, louder this time.
"What do you mean?" He asks, voice low. It takes a moment before you find the strength to speak.
"I found it outside this morning. A cat had gotten it. I…I thought I could try to heal it." Your sentence is interrupted by a sharp sob. "But I couldn't."
" I did everything by the book. Focused my magic into my fingertips, pushed that magic into the sparrow- but I couldn't heal it. I drained it. I took it's life, Rain. " You gesture at the mess before you with a shaky fist.
"I can create potent mana potions. I can make curses that are so concrete and so indestructible even experienced high mages struggle to break them. Fuck! I could raise armies of the dead with a flick of my wrist if I wanted to! So… so why…" You trail off, swallowing thickly as you do your best to blink away the tears.
"I just don't understand. I don’t…" There's a moment of silence, and you just can't seem to speak. It hurts. It hurts to think of how you failed the sparrow. You let out a another choked sob.
"... I can't believe I killed it…"
Rain is silent. If it was anyone else, anyone else, he would be scoffing. But you're just so… broken. Broken over this little bird that you couldn't save. All he can feel is pity. All his life, he has strived for more. More magic. More skills. More power. He has done all he can to learn the most powerful dark magics that the academy knows of… and here you are, blood surging with those very same potent and powerful magics that everyone else has been banned from learning. And you are broken over one of the most simple spells to learn. He had mastered this simple magic before he had even been accepted into the institute.
Part of him is prideful. The other part is ashamed.
He reaches over you to pick up the sparrow. You look at him with tired, swollen eyes.
"You don't want to resurrect it?" He asks. You shake your head. Rain holds out his other hand to you. And you take it.
He doesn't tell you where you are going, but you follow him anyway, too tired to interject. He leads you into the garden, stops among the plants frequently harvested for casting, and kneels. He digs a small hole, and buries the sparrow. You feel numb as you watch him.
He stands by your side again.
"Everything has a place in this world." He says. "Earth, Water. Light. Life. Death.The same goes for magic. " With a surge of his own magic, the ground becomes wet, and then sprouts begin to grow.
"Death magic and magics as such may be taboo to most, but it has a place. Just as water does." He moves to face you now. You keep your eyes on the grave of the sparrow.
"Just because the magic that runs in your veins doesn't give life, or heal those in need, does not make it any less useful. It does not make it any less powerful. Despite your faults-" You roll your eyes at him. He's relieved a little to see a ghost of a smile on your face. "- You are... still a worthy rival to me."
"You know, even when you're being nice, It feels like you're secretly being mean." You huff a laugh. He smirks.
"Who said I was being nice?" You scoff at him, and before you know it, you're hugging him. You weren't sure why, you did it on impulse, without even thinking. Even so, you don't let go. Rain is taken aback, holding his arms out without knowing what to do.
After a moment, he relaxes, and his arms gently hold you back. Rain's face was flushed. For someone so smart, you had to be an idiot to hug someone who barely tolerated you. You sigh into the hug, burying your face in his chest.
"Thank you, Rain." You mumble. Rain feels his heart do something strange as you do. The sight of you holding onto him so snugly, like you trusted him, makes him feel weird. He ignores it. He has the sudden impulse to lean down and press a kiss to your temple, and then the train of thought derails into the temptation to lean back, take your face in his arms, and kiss you silly.
What an idiotic thing to do, he thinks. Why would he ever think such a thing?
These thoughts aside, when you lean back, wipe your swollen eyes, and complain about missing dinner, he can't help but follow you back into the institute like a lost puppy.
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yonpote · 3 months
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re: dnp onscreen "personas" lol. i mean yall know what i mean by that but i feel like explaining it anyway just to be thorough. this is related to what ive been calling The Shift.
2011-2012 was around the time where the barrier between real dnp and the people they played was starting to be fortified. and like, part of it is just, with phils channel once he wanted it to be less video journal-y and more weird experimental short films, he still wanted to entertain people while talking abt his life, so maybe he would stretch a tale a bit or act a bit peppier than he is irl. and with dan, he had concepts literally from the start of what to do with his channel, and how it was inspired by a lot of sketch comedy based channels like communitychannel and [REDACTED]. so its not like it wasnt somewhat personas from the start, but 2012 was when it was cemented, and once they became known for being a duo it was just further self-flanderization. a Phanderization even. like intentionally playing into the ornery guy who makes bad puns and the happy go lucky guy who accidentally says innuendos. real tsukkomi and boke moment.
ok im gonna elaborate on why tatinof was a fanfic now :) this is the PEAK of phanderization, to me it's not a surprise that the cracks in the egg PERSONAS were starting to show bc they were just Fully In Character for like a year or so straight. in tatinof, the serious bitter eye-rolling "ugh dont do a song and dance" guy was dan (The Straight Man) (dont laugh thats just what its called) so of course his counterpart was the silly happy just having fun "i wanna burst into song!" guy was phil (The Fool). but when you watch their making of doc, dan says that HE'S the one who wanted to do the song and dance. if youre an Enthusiast abt dnp, you mightve already known that dan was a huge theater kid and loves the book of mormon n shit. phil likes theater too, but dan LOVES IT like not just watching but Performing. BUT to a regular degular in 2015 just casually watching or a huge fan but hasnt watched every liveshow ever or a phannie who just really believes in the Phanon, this may come as a surprise. phil is the happy silly ball of sunshine right? like ok. these aspects of their personality (dans bitterness and phil's positivity) aren't exactly LIES. but like obviously theyre just humans. this is what Interactive Introverts was TRYING to comment on, but imo i think fell short of its attempt bc in the end they were still trapped in their personas for the sake of Giving The People What They Want
ok i kinda tangented so back to the personas, it's not as if today they are Fully Raw And Real with us on screen, that's just kinda inherently never gonna happen, there will always be shit we don't know about them bc like. it's still a screen. BUT now that they are more real with us, we kinda see the energy of the olden days back, ofc less MegaRandomHyper and more gay millennial waffling. but it's them! cuz they really are so similar to the personas, but there's always an underlying layer of This Is A Bit. when dan's annoyed at phil for something we know he's not genuinely angry ESPECIALLY when we see that phil does it on purpose to rile him up. i think something strange is that, it's not like during 2012-2018 we didnt see stuff like this, dan's always been silly and phil's always been sarcastic, but bc so many people had bought into the Personas of danisnotonfire and AmazingPhil, that ended up being cemented into fic.
ok i wanna ramble on more but maybe ill make a new post lmao
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bubblesxo · 23 days
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i dont know if you will see this but i am a big fan of your g!bruce meets the batfam!!!! I literally have tumblr just for this series (and now that I’ve tried it im beginning to love it ngl) . Annyywaayy ive just read the new chapter and it’s so good!?? Like i am really excited for the next chapter!!!
Oh and I haven’t watched gotham ( im planning too ) but i sometimes mix the twins????? Like your explanations are good dont get me wrong but yk when your reading and you need to check which ones which? Yeah … and like i want to fix that idk how .do i just like memorize the twins personalitys??
also in this au is theres 2 jokers??????? I saw you once mention Jerome(?) being revived or something
ps .im that great at English sorry .
oh wow wow wow thank you so so much!! i'm really glad that you're enjoying my story so much! it really means a lot to me. <33 i think your english is good! but if you need/want me to clarify anything i say here, just let me know and i'll try to rephrase it for you!
okay, so in the Gotham tv show (this has spoilers for all 5 seasons, so read on if you're okay with that) the way that they approached writing the joker was actually really up in the air in the beginning. this is because they didn't have the rights to use the name "joker," and so fox (the company that made the show) planned on making a bunch of smaller characters in the show as a kind of easter egg as people who could be the joker or who resemble him in some way.
this changed when cameron monaghan (the actor for both jerome and jeremiah) guest starred in s1e16 "the blind fortune teller." in it, the character of jerome is introduced as a 17/18 year old boy who travels with the circus with his mother, who is a snake dancer. he is meant to be one of the aforementioned joker-like characters in the show and wasn't actually supposed to be included again after that episode, if i am not mistaken.
however, the viewers LOVED his performance and jerome came back in season two as a member of the maniax, a group of arkham inmates who were broken out of the asylum. i won't go too into detail about the actual plot, but in seasons two, three, and four, jerome shows up in at least a few different episodes with very memorable storylines each time.
it isn't until season four of the show that jeremiah is even revealed at all! jeremiah and jerome are identical twin brothers, however, jeremiah has been in hiding for years under the fake name "xander wilde" in an attempt to escape jerome, who wants to get revenge on him for lying to their mother about what he (jerome) did when they were children. basically, jeremiah lied to their mother (lila, who jerome is revealed to have killed in 1x16) that jerome tried to kill him, causing jeremiah to be sent away and be adopted by rich people and get to go to a well-funded private school where he could live out his best life as a child prodigy (which was jeremiah's end goal to this), whereas jerome was left behind in the circus that they lived at (haly's circus, the same one that dick grayson later was raised in before being adopted by bruce). during this time, jerome was horrifically abused by his mother, his uncle, and his mother's many romantic partners. this eventually caused him to crack, which creates the character we see in the show.
here's an easy way to remember the difference in their personalities:
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in the standard american deck of cards, there are two jokers: one that is black and white and one that is in color. in this analogy, jeremiah is the black and white joker and jerome is the one in color.
this is jerome:
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he's got a *very* boisterous personality. he's outgoing and charismatic and, of course, severely messed up in the head. he *enjoys* the pain he causes people and does it with little to no reservations. he thinks things through less thoroughly than jeremiah but jerome always has a plan and is actually quite smart. i couldn't do him the disservice of calling him the dumb twin, despite some points about jeremiah that i'll get back to later.
anyway, jerome has a grand plan for all of gotham: he believes that, fundamentally, everyone in the world is like him and is also at least a bit crazy inside. he wants everyone to tap into their inner selves and let themselves run free / go crazy. he successfully ensnares huge hoards of gothamites with his persuasive way of speaking and interesting flare to his words. he amasses a large cult following, all of whom are very similar to him in the sense that they all demonstrate similar signs of instability.
here's some more gifs of him.
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jerome kind of invented the iconic "HAHAHA" signature joker laugh in the gotham universe, even though he isn't the one who goes on to become "mr. j" (gotham's version of the joker) in the end (that's jeremiah, though i have a lot to say about that).
jerome's always smiling, a genuinely creepy smile that throws people off at first but can be really scary once you know what you're looking at. he single handedly turns gotham into a madhouse on multiple occasions and is the one who basically spread the "crazy" to the general population (for short: genpop).
he's a classic cult leader in the sense that he can mesmerize a whole room with his magnetic presence but also will ruthlessly cut down any of his followers if they so much as upset him (or even if they're just being annoying or could have a greater purpose, like when he stabbed a follower in the gut to take their blood to draw a frowney-face on bruce).
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that reminds me, another important thing to know about jerome is that he has an iconic stapled-on face! this is because he died once (in season two, though he came back to life for season three onwards) and one of his followers tried to revive him using some insider medical knowledge from doctor hugo strange (who is just... a whole thing. ew.). he thinks that he failed at doing this and steals jerome's face so that he can wear it on television in an attempt to control jerome's followers (spoiler: this doesn't work).
however, it turns out that jerome *was* revived from this, and he's pretty upset that some dude stole his face! so he uses a staple gun to re-attach it after he gets it back (and kills the guy who did it). his face is later punched off by jim gordon but reattached more properly during his time at arkham afterward (the carnival scene happened in season 3 and jerome came back with a kind-of healed face in season 4).
here's some gifs with jerome's messed up face!
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jerome is the colorful joker because he's very much expressive. he lets out every single emotion he feels---unless he's trying to deceive someone, at which point he is a phenomenal liar. (in season 1 when we are first introduced to him, he almost successfully gets away with the murder of his own mother.)
jerome is funny and laughs a lot and is *loud.* he's also absolutely insane and incredibly cruel, as well as impulsive, but he's able to curb his instincts if he feels like he can pull off a big plan.
jerome is a showman by nature. he's a product of the circus and it *shows.* everything he does is like an act, something that is acknowledged by many people in the show.
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he's a funky lil dude. totally crazy, but kind of adorable at times.
he's also SEVERELY traumatized from his horrible past and has huge trust issues.
so, yeah. jerome is colors! remember that.
unfortunately, pookie died in season 4 and doesn't seem to have been revived this time </3
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now, onto his twin brother jeremiah!
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jeremiah is, at least at first, presented to be the complete opposite of jerome. he's calm, collected, and seemingly sane---at least at first. bruce trusts him at first and he even befriends him for a period of time before jeremiah betrays him.
jeremiah is a genius engineer, and, when looking into his past, we can assume that he was a child prodigy. he worked with thomas wayne before he died and designed the wayne plaza building under the aforementioned alias "xander wilde." he also locked himself in an underground maze for ~6 years (i believe?) and never went outside, instead sending his proxy (ecco) out to act in his place during business transactions.
as seen here, jeremiah seems to be the complete opposite of showboat jerome:
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when we first meet jeremiah, we are told that he is totally sane, but we can later see that this is not the complete truth.
i'll use jeremiah's project as a metaphor for this. jeremiah was building a set of generators which could make energy harvesting and usage much less expensive and much more bio-friendly (if i remember correctly). bruce promised to fund his project and jeremiah accepts his offer quickly.
after jerome dies in season 4 after kidnapping bruce and jeremiah, he left behind a concoction of chemicals that seemingly make jeremiah go insane. this is a play on joker toxin / joker venom from the greater dc universe.
however, after jeremiah reveals his new self
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he says that the spray did not actually change who he actually is, but just gave him an altered appearance. there are a lot of fan theories about this, but the general consensus is that the spray likely lowered his inhibitions, which gave him the kick needed to reveal his true self.
even his complexion resembles the joker he corresponds with: black and white. he is the black and white joker because he isn't as expressive, is way more calculated, and is more cruel and less happy. even his skin is paper white.
here's some gifs of what he looks like after those "slight cosmetic changes" :
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that looks a lot more like the joker we know and love today, right? bleach-pale skin, red painted lips, green hair. he's instantly recognizable as the stereotypical joker now.
remember when i mentioned the generators? let's go back to them. the entire time that the generators have been around, they've also been perfectly functional as powerful bombs. their ability to be used as bombs does not undermine the fact that they can also be used as generators, and both of these things were true at the same time *for the entire time they have existed.*
it is in this way that jeremiah's paradoxical nature has always existed. jeremiah is crafty, cunning, and absolutely vicious. he has no care or concern for human life in general and will sacrifice most people in his life if it means that he will get what he wants in the end.
this is shown both before and after the joker toxin in how he lied about jerome when they were children (which caused jerome to be heavily abused) and in how jeremiah willingly killed one of his most devoted and beloved followers, who was being ransomed, just because someone put him on hold and it was personally easier for him to just kill him than sit on hold on the phone for a while. (he also has a vicious streak, though, because he immediately moved the demolition of the bombs up to immediately once he was out of the blast zone because those people inconvenienced him.)
something that's important to realize about jeremiah is that he has an issue with being called crazy. jerome does, too, but he eventually comes to accept the term, almost like he's reclaiming it, but jeremiah is *violently* against it. that's one of the things that set him off in the previously mentioned interaction.
both jeremiah and jerome are obsessed with bruce, though in different ways. jeremiah sees bruce first as his best friend and later as the "brother [he] could never have, that jerome could never be." jerome just sees bruce as a particularly entertaining and interesting kid who he enjoyed tormenting who he would eventually kill.
anyway, despite jeremiah being crazy (or, depending on who you ask, just less inhibited) he is still crazy smart and calculating. he thinks through everything before he does it and his master plans seem like they go on forever with 10000 parts to them and backups and contingencies galore.
the only time that jeremiah ever really seems to break out of this is when he's fighting with bruce. while he still does have a greater point to make or something he's trying to accomplish, he thinks through things less with him and shows his impulsive and rash side a bit more, which is interesting because jerome showed his thoughtful and contemplative side when faced with the obstacle that is bruce thomas wayne. i love parallels and contrasts, especially in these two characters! i just love writing about twins, they're always so interesting.
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some important things about their relationship to one another:
even though jerome kidnapped jeremiah and seemingly strapped a bomb to his neck (after breaking into his house and telling him that he would kill him), jerome doesn't seem to actually want jeremiah to die. instead, as we later find out, he wants jeremiah to unleash his true self and carry on his legacy of chaos and cruelty in gotham for him after his death. this is why he left behind the laughing gas for him.
(the fact that jerome thought to do all of that shows that he really was a smart character and that he truly did understand the world around him well. he knew exactly what would happen in the event of his death, i.e. bruce offering to fund jeremiah's work and jeremiah accepting, as is shown when jerome has the joker venom in a present box which claims to be sent from wayne enterprises.)
jeremiah *hates* to be compared to jerome in any way, as he thinks of himself as "the face of true sanity." he actually has an entire notebook full of jerome's ideas, which he says he will outdo and perfect, thus defeating his brother in the end, which i don't know if i agree with, but whatever.
i think that it's because of the reputation that jerome got at the circus. jeremiah wanted people to think of him as better than jerome and as the perfect child, which he succeeded at. to him, jerome is synonymous with crazy, which i've already mentioned that he hates to be called.
okay, just one more part to talk about. the infamous, much anticipated Mr. J!!!
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in the series finale, it is revealed that jeremiah, after falling into a vat of acid, is horribly disfigured and pretends to be in a vegetative state for the whole ten years that bruce is on his quest to improve himself before becoming batman. he does this as a way of waiting for bruce to come back to gotham so he can continue to be obsessed with him.
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however, though this is jeremiah, it seems that he has actually gone through immense mental trauma sometime during this time (perhaps during his fall into a vat of chemicals), which has caused him to sort of lose his sense of self. he once says that there was "another me" [another him] once, which is, of course, referring to jerome. this implies that jeremiah sees jerome as an extension of himself, almost, and almost makes it seem as if mr. j is a whole different entity of his own.
hopefully this clears everything up a bit for you!! let me know if you have any questions or want to know anything specific about the characters and i will be glad to oblige!
thank you once again for being so kind as to leave this ask!! it really made my day. thank you for enjoying my fic, i hope it continues to live up to expectations. i have a lot of fun things planned (and i am very happy that you decided to look into these characters more, because they are actually extremely important to the plot as we get more into the actual story!). <33
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𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒲𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 Papa Emeritus IV x reader
so i’ve had this idea for a while and finally was able to put it into words!
summary: our beloved papa has had a crush on his assistant for quite some time, except there was one issue, he didn’t know it yet. one day, you decide to go to one of his concerts with him. as he’s performing Mary On A Cross, he realizes he’d rather sing this song only to you. that he loves you.
enjoy!
⊱ ────── {⋅.𖤐 𐕣♱ ✯ ♱𐕣 𖤐.⋅} ────── ⊰
“No no, please, cara. You don’t need to do that.” he said, nervously brushing off what you’d just said.
“Papa- Copia, I insist. I’ve already bought the ticket, please, let me come support you. I want to see you, you’ll be amazing, pleasee?” you asked him, looking up at him with hopeful eyes as he turned to face you. In his eyes was a very different look. One of determination but also worry, hesitance.
The tour began today. It was starting that very evening. Copia had been very nervous. He wasn’t always this particularly nervous about performing but for some reason, this time was getting to him. You had racked your brain trying to think of reasons why it could be, but to your utter confusion, you could find no reason whatsoever. Maybe someone had made a rude comment and it got to his head? Maybe he was trying something new? Maybe he had bad memories from the venue? You didn’t know. You may not have understood the reason for his anxiety, but you wanted to support him. You cared for him- deeper than you should, you thought. And you wanted to be there for him. Luckily, this first night of the tour was close to the ministry. By working hard, (and a lot of convincing Sister Imperator), you were able to go! You had been able to scrounge up the money for tickets in the pit, right in front of the stage, where you could see Copia perfectly. You mentally sighed happily at the thought of getting to see him, up close, doing his thing, performing for all the people, being amazing. Though you were snapped out of your happy daydreams by Copia apparently repeating your name.
“Y/n?” he asked, waiting for a response.
“Yes sorry what did you say, Papa?” you asked him, embarrassed he had caught you in your daydream, and that he was needing to repeat himself.
“Please y/n, it’s Copia, I’ve known you far too long and know you far too closely to continue with such formalities.” he said with a smile muttering “Papa..” to himself, as if in disbelief you would be so formal.
“Then, Copia, what did you say?” you said, emphasizing the Copia. You gave him a playful smile as you waited momentarily for his response.
“I asked why you bought the ticket, mio caro.” He said, turning to scan over papers that would he waiting for him when he got back from the tour. And telling by the look in his eyes, he wasn’t exactly bursting with excitement. Since his eyes were busy running over the pages, they were too busy to notice the smile that had come onto your face from the name he called you.
You might as well come right out and say it, you were in love with Copia. Ever since his first days as Cardinal, you had loved him. It had only grown with time. Passing comments between you two had grown into long evenings discussing life, the beliefs of the church and Lucifer, and soon, his role as Papa. On occasion, Copia would invite you to his room and you two would play video games together. Other nights, you’d help him write his next sermon. You both learned so much from each other. You would trade books, discuss rituals. To anyone’s eyes, you two were a match made in heaven- wait no- would it be hell? A match made in hell? Oh well. One thing was for sure, to anyone who had eyes it was clear, you loved him deeply. And he loved you. (Even if he doesn’t know that yet-)
“There’s a million reasons. I want to support you, see you doing your thing, all of those kinds of things. I thought it was a wonderful idea.” you said, looking mildly sad. Did he not want you to go? Was he annoyed?
“Oh y/n, you know I’d love for you to be there.” Copia replied, sympathetically resting a hand on your arm. With his words and the feeling of his leather gloves on your skin, all your worried were relieved from your mind. You felt yourself warm up from his touch. He had always had this effect on you. Some days you wondered if it was really Lucifer you were worshipping or just him. You would’ve been happy either way.
“You would?” you asked, not wanting the happy moment to end. Mismatched eyes met yours, a content air falling around you two in the comfort of his office. It was moments like these when you hoped. You hoped that maybe someday, it would be more than light touches on the arm, more than the longing smiles you gave him, more than the desperate longing to be something more.
“Yes, yes, of course! Come now, do you really think I’d reject your presence carissima?” he responded. You suddenly became very aware of his hand still on your arm, even more aware of the small circles he was tracing into your skin with his thumb. Damn it. Why did he have to look at you like that? His smile was causing yours to grow. Like the sun to a budding plant, he lit you up. You had never been looked at like that. It was a smile of utter comfort and interest. Like he would hang on to your every word, like he was ready to give you every ounce of reassurance in the world.
He didn’t know why, but moments like these- moments with you, warmed his heart in a certain way. One he couldn’t put into words. What was this feeling for you? He wanted things to stay like this, for a long long time. He wanted his hand to stay there. What if he hugged you? No- he couldn’t- not now. You would think him weird.
“Well, it’s certainly nice to be appreciated.” you said softly, not able to look away. Ever drawn in by the mismatched eyes, you loved them. You loved him. In times like this, it felt like the entire world was left behind, it was all so far away. You didn’t care about your anxieties about tonight, you didn’t care about tomorrow’s work, or the day after that’s, or absolutely anything else, until the end of time. You were so entirely wrapped up in who he was, it was hard to see the rest of the world for all the pieces of him were everywhere you looked. He was there in the dark of night, a flickering candle, he was there when you would take your walks at night throughout the ministry. He was always there- in your mind, and your heart. Surely, you thought, this can’t just be only my feeling. He has to feel something, or know I feel something. It was ironic to you, sometimes. To the rest of the world, the person you held dearest would be considered entirely blasphemous, terrifying, doomed to spend a eternity in hell. To you, he was your greatest joy, your safe place, the person whom you loved with your entire mind, soul, body, and heart. You adored him with every ounce of life you had in you. You loved him with every ounce of life you had in you. And if the day came where that life was taken from you both, you would even follow him to hell. To you, true hell was an eternity without him. Not whatever is in the bible, or other ancient scriptures.
“You,” he paused, turning his head to look at his desk, but this time his eyes weren’t scanning over documents or papers or work of any kind. They looked like they were thinking of all the words in existence, trying only to find the right ones for this moment. “You are more than appreciated.”
What did that mean?
He was desperately searching his head for any explanation as to how he felt, what was this burning in his chest, this eternal longing?
Going ahead and speaking your thoughts you shot a question at him. “What do you mean?”
He only looked at you. The room was horribly silent, if only his voice would fill it with noise.
All at once, the door burst open and Sister Imperator practically flew in. Copia removed his hand quickly from your arm, and you two stepped apart as she scanned the room fiercely.
“Ah, there you two are! Wonderful, how do you both feel?” she asked, obviously nervously anticipating your responses.
“Good!” you said, a little anxious under her seemingly ever-watchful gaze.
“Oh, yes, yes good. We are good. Thank you, Sister. Uh, how are- how are you?” he asked, his awkward demeanor emerging dramatically. You couldn’t help but smile internally at this, you thought it was so cute. You also noticed he was much more calm when it was only you two. Did he really trust you that much?
“Perfect, well you both are to leave in an hour. And y/n, I expect you can get ready in that time?” she asked you.
You were surprised at the lack of warning before hand but since she was messing with her hands nervously, you suspected she had her own worries about tonight and decided it best not to argue. “Yes, Sister, sounds good.” you said in reply.
“Terrific, thank you child. Now, uh,” she stepped towards him, as if wanting to say something, possibly give him a hug? You didn’t know. But she stepped away before anything could happen. “Do well.” she said before hurrying out the door, muttering to herself about other duties and jobs she had to attend to, all while being wrapped up in this evening.
You turned back to your dear Papa, “So, we have an hour!”
“That we do.” he nodded, seemingly in thought.
“I’d better go get ready then! I’ll see you soon Pa- sorry, Copia.” you excitedly said with a smile, you turned quickly and left the room, just in time to hear a goodbye from Copia.
He watched as you left, and he was excited too! He wondered what you would wear, how you would look, what you would think. What song would be your favorite? Would it be appropriate to Cirice you? Just like you, many questions ran through his mind. Dancing around like falling leaves, swirling and mixing in a beautiful array of wonder.
You hurried through the halls, excitement burning deep within you along with the need for more air. Damn- habits can be hard to run in. You passed other hallways, leading further and further into the ministry. You passed elaborate paintings depicting Lucifer, worship of Him, Eve, Lilith, and more. Statues of these figures laid about the halls as well. With the ceilings high above you, rushed past many Siblings of Sin. Until finally, you reached your room. Practically throwing the door open, you stepped in. The outfit you had picked out for this evening lay all ready on your bed. You tossed off your habit, tearing off every garment of clothing you wore over your undergarments. Soon, your carefully planned outfit was no longer laying on the bed, but now your body. And you looked…good.
It fit your body just how you had wanted it to, it accentuated every little bit of your beauty. You were certainly not disappointed.
You only wondered what your beloved Copia would think..?
You hoped he would like it.
You were bursting in excitement as you finished with all the little details of your current look. Any makeup or accessories that had needed to have been added were added and you felt you were ready. You only worried lightly about tonight. You were worried about how your love for Copia would grow. There was no way you’d be able to see him up there, with those beautiful outfits adding to his powerful look, singing so wonderfully, without falling even more in love with him. Unholy fuck, you could practically picture it already. And your stomach was filled with a nervous excitement. Or very very aggressive butterflies. Rabid birds maybe. You didn’t know. You only knew you couldn’t wait. And that you hoped that maybe, just maybe, Copia might appreciate your outfit too.
You grabbed what other things you may need from wherever they were, took one last glimpse at yourself in the mirror, and headed over to your door. Just as you were about to open it, you heart two short noises.
Knock, knock.
Who on earth would be at your door now? You desperately hoped that the universe wasn’t trying to keep you from going to this concert; cause by Satan, if you needed to go up against the universe to get to this concert, then the universe better be ready.
“Child? Sister Y/n, are you ready?” called a shrill voice.
Oh.
That’s who.
You opened the door to see an even more frazzled looking Sister Imperator. You silently thanked the universe for not getting in the way of your going to the concert.
“Ah, ok. Good. Now, follow me.” she said, nodding a few times before sharply turning on her heel and walking swiftly down the hallway.
You had no choice but to follow her.
You followed her through a couple hallways, expecting Copia to be joining you any moment. When he didn’t, you hurried and caught up to Sister Imperator.
“Sister? Where are we going?” you asked her.
“The car that will transport you to the venue of course, what else?” she asked you. She had stopped now and turned to look at you, a confused look on her face as if there was no other place in the world you could possibly be.
You took a second to process that. You thought you would’ve been meeting Copia.
“So, where is Papa?” you asked
Sister turned and continued walking, her sudden movement caused you to pause then hurry after her.
Damn this woman is fast.
As you followed her, her response rung out through the halls.
“He has already left for the venue. We decided to send him early. Sound checks and all, you must know.”
You couldn’t lie to yourself, you were a bit disappointed that you weren’t able to see him before he performed. But that was ok. There wasn’t anything you could really do about it now, was there?
Soon enough, you and Sister Imperator reached the entrance of the Church. You walked out the doors and into the bright air. It was not yet sunset, but it would be soon in a few hours. A black car awaited your exit out of the church. And in the drivers seat…was a Ghoul!
“Alright. Now then, you have everything?” asked Sister Imperator.
“Yes, thank you very much. I really appreciate this.” you smiled at her, thankful she had helped you achieve getting this opportunity.
“Of course. Well, you’d better be off now, shouldn’t you?” she nodded in return to your smile and you could’ve sworn you saw a small one playing at the edges of her mouth.
“Yes, I should. Have a good evening, Sister.” you replied and opened the door to the backseat of the car, where you assumed it was appropriate to sit since the Ghoul was driving, and it seemed more formal.
The car started and you watched it pull away from your dear Satanic Church. The dark walls which held secrets, had also come to hold your home, your heart. It had come to hold a place of love and beauty. You were allowed to be human there. Good, bad, and all.
You had also been allowed to love.
And oh, how that love burned in excitement as the church grew further and further away.
You swore you could still see Sister Imperator standing by the entrance.
You hummed quietly to the music playing over the radio as you watched the landscape pass by. You thought about the fact that Copia had seen this on his drive too. Oh how you loved him. You wondered what he had thought of the passing trees, the buildings, everything. You wondered if he thought about you. Of course, he had. But you had no way of knowing that yet. All you knew was that he made the world so much more beautiful. You had never understood how beautiful one person could make the world until you met him.
You couldn’t possibly know this, but at that moment, Copia was getting out of his car, thinking about you. Thinking about the fact you’d see all his singing and dancing and performing. It was one thing to come back from a tour and simply tell you about it, it was another to actually have you there. He couldn’t ignore the anticipation that rose in his stomach more and more.
After a few more passing minutes, you found yourself in a slowly stopping car.
You were here.
You could barely contain yourself.
You were surprised when the ghoul came around and opened your door for you. You stepped out, giving the ghoul a warm smile.
“Thank you very much,” you said to him. He nodded, in what seemed like a grateful way and held out his hand. You looked at it, for just a moment. You then put yours in the ghoul’s and the ghoul shook it. It was a small gesture, a polite one. But you felt it meant more than that.
You had always been kind to the ghouls, a sort of friendship had formed between you and them. You were always very polite and treated them as individual equals. Not simply the protectors of Papa or simply things that performed by his side, not as something below others in the ministry or the siblings, but as those who did very hard work, and deserved the right to be treated with compassion. Through your kindness, they had given you respect in return.
Once your hands were separated, and you had made your goodbyes, you walked towards the venue. Unsurprisingly, you were the first one there, other than the workers.
A few of them made small-talk with you, and for a bit you waited around doing typical waiting things. After a bit, other people started to show up. You admired all their outfits, the merch if they had any.
It was the best wait you had ever experienced. And you knew every second would be worth it.
All of this was wonderful and all, until an opening of a gate caught the attention of many. It was a ghoul and a worker of the venue. The ghoul stayed behind the gate as not to get trampled, though getting flooded audibly by the cheers of the thrilled fans. But the worker stepped out through the gates, and headed towards you.
“Are you y/n?” he asked you, seemingly in a rush.
“Yes. Why?” you replied, very confused as to what was going on.
“Alright, please come with me. You’re needed backstage.” he said, and turned. But not before motioning for you to follow him.
You showed the other workers your ticket as you entered, they looked confused too, but they let you pass.
Once you were through the gates, you were led into a building. As you walked through it you saw many other workers, along with a ghoul here and there.
“Where are we going?” you asked the worker who was leading you.
“A dressing room, you will see. He told me you were needed, insisted, actually.” the worker replied to you, not slowing their pace at all.
After a minute, you got to a long row of doors, the ghoul that had accompanied you waved to you, opened one of the doors, then disappeared inside. Eventually you came to a door near the end of the hallway.
“Right in there! Thank you for coming, I’m sure this all seems very strange.” the worker said.
“It’s ok, thank you for coming to get me and bringing me here.” you replied.
The worker gave you a smile and a nod, then turned and walked down the hallway, off to throw themself into some other pre-show chaos.
After watching him leave, you turned back to the door. You took a breath in, and opened it.
Inside were multiple mirrors, a couch, mini fridge, and very, very, bright lights. In the center of it all, was Copia. Beloved, amazing, Copia. You quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind you, that seemed to startle the man out of his thoughts and turn back towards you. You watched as his gaze fixed on you. You couldn’t miss how his eyes widened. Was it wonder, amazement? Unbeknownst to you, yes. Yes it was. It was pure wonder and amazement. And later as Copia would find out, love.
“Ah, cara mia. There you are.” his tone was calm, but his eyes were still wide, he moved towards you, quite quickly.
“Is everything ok?” you asked. You couldn’t hide how your eyes had widened too, he looked incredible.
“Yes, yes, all very good. I was just eh, worrying, and uh, wanted to see how you were doing.” he said, looking at you with such happiness.
“I’m doing quite well, thank you! You look amazing, you’re going to be amazing.” he smiled as you said this
“I can already hear the cheering fans!” you joked and you both chuckled.
“Ah, well, thank you. I appreciate that.” he said. “I should uh,” he motioned to his makeup, which he was just finishing putting on.
“Oh! Mhm, do you need help?” you asked him.
“Sure, uh, ok, so..” As you both worked, his makeup was finished, leaving you two to laugh and talk, and have precious time together. Though, eventually, it was almost time where you would need to leave and take your place in the crowd.
“There was…another thing, I wanted to uh, talk with you about. Before we you know, go on.” he said
“Hm? What is it?” you asked
“Just, nerves, you know?” He asked. And yes, you did know.
“Hey, you’ll be amazing. You always are. There’s not a day that passes where I don’t think that. You’ve done this many times, and everyone always loves it. You’ve got this! You’re gonna take their breath away, Copia.”
And you were right. He would take their breath away. Sadly after you said that, a worker notified you that they would start letting people in the gates in about five minutes. And you had to take your leave.
Within minutes you were in your place in the pit. Right in front of the stage, in the center, right up front.
Soon, everyone else were in their places too.
Next, the opening band started.
After that, the opening band finished.
And then, it was time.
You swear, when you first saw him come out on stage, time was frozen. He looked more amazing than you’d ever seen him. He radiated confidence. Cheers roared louder than you’d ever heard. He was a fire, he was the sun. He was illuminating everything, it felt like.
And of course, he saw you.
Many times, he looked your way, danced and sang in front of you. You loved all of his costumes, his jokes, all of it.
Then the time came for Cirice to play.
Wanna guess what he did?
Ciriced you.
The night went on in a beautiful blur of love and ritual.
Soon, Mary On A Cross began to play.
By the time the first chorus came, you felt you could melt. He was looking at you. He was smiling at you.
In his mind, he was thinking about you. He thought how you’d spent the night dancing and singing, he thought about the way you two were together, how you were to him. And eventually, came in to that burning happiness in his chest.
Soon, the slower part of the song came.
“You go down just like Holy Mary, Mary on a, Mary on a Cross, not just another bloody Mary, Mary on a, Mary on a..”
And with the next few lines, he would realize that maybe it wasn’t only Lucifer he worshipped, but you as well. He loved you. He loved you. Satan in hell, he loved you. He was in love.
You were what had been keeping him going, you were so so beautiful in every way. You brought him to life, you were what he sang every song to. You were his muse.
“You’re beauty never ever scared me,”
With that, he made eye contact with you. There were so many people around the two of you but for those moments, it felt like only the two of you. You two were meant to be. He was yours, you were his.
Your beauty had never scared him.
It had been you, all along.
He loved you.
He loved you, he worshipped you, you were the flame burning deep within him.
As the song came to an end, he kneeled down at the edge of the stage, right before you. Your hand joined his, as he held his out to you. He kneeled down close, close enough so only you could hear.
“I love you,” he whispered to you.
⊱ ────── {⋅.𖤐 𐕣♱ ✯ ♱𐕣 𖤐.⋅} ────── ⊰
a/n : i hope you all like this! i might do a different ending to this. but anyways, i hope you like this. remember to take care of yourselves!!
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autism-connoisseur · 8 months
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ive been yelling about this pesterlog in sids dms for 3 mins now hello
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just.... so many things......
vriska wanted to fight jack to protect her friends. shes the only one in her group that god tied. its on her. ((so many trolls do this. feel like they have this task thats /theirs/. no one else can do it. no one can understand or shoulder the burden for them. the exact wording is "if not me, then who?" and isnt that just the perfect example of alternian society, expecting them to perform the impossible on their own, making them feeling like no one can help so they shouldnt even think of asking. thats why karkat as a leader and as a knight of blood does the impossible by keeping them together. everyone has always told them they CANT rely on others: the others are too weak, the others wont understand, the others are too good for you, you are too good for the others, etc. teamwork was something alien to them and yet karkat got them through the full game)).
if vriska goes fight jack, he follows her trail ((much like a dog would may i add)) and kills karkat and terezi. kills like half of her remaining friends, who are one of the biggest reasons shes fighting. she thinks of their safety before she thinks of her glory!! of course she wants to be savior of the universe, but she wants to be savior of her friends before that.
but most of all, killing jack means meeting the other session safely. means not having to hide anymore. means meeting /june/, and the other humans. means seeing their ways and behaviors so different from the trolls', yet something that calls to vriska. sure, karkat would fit better as a human, but her? could she fit as a human? could she be like a human, or a troll thats like a human, or even more of a human with a hint of troll? shes willing to give it a shot. and who best to try it with than her favorite human, the one who knows about her doubts about "the test", the one that doesnt understand the way she sees killing but tried to support and listen to her anyways, the one who doesnt judge her for being too much of a troll or not enough of a troll or for the things she did while trying to fit into her supposed place??
and none of that matters because if she challenged jack, she would lose. shed get her friends killed before he even bothered with her. and we dont even /know/ if she would win, or if shed survive even if she did.
none of that matters either, because on the alpha timeline shes dead. she laid her heart bare for june and now shell see and respond and it wont matter because vriska needs to die.
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sai-lec · 1 month
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People are platforming sainz way too much when he’s the worse driver in ferrari just because he had his appendix removed like that makes him the most amazing driver ever he really shouldn’t have gotten driver of the day nevermind a win when Charles did so much more and gave him the position
the way im just trying to enjoy my enchiladas oh my god anyway i wasn’t gonna answer just straight up carlos hate asks bc it’s pointless yet here i am
i just find it really interesting that people act like liking carlos = hating charles and vice versa bc that’s the common thread ive been seeing across what people have been saying in my inbox and also in reblogs etc etc . it’s always utilising charles to degrade carlos and specifically his driving performances which in all honesty is very disrespectful to the team as a whole
but the reason that carlos has been getting so much media attention is because there are huge circumstances around him this season . he entered the season not having a seat for next year; people were curious- how would he react? how was he going to prove himself as deserving of a competitive seat for 2025? was the decision going to impact his relationship with the team etc etc etc . there was a lot of questions around him going into the season . especially after the shitshow of the last few races of the 2023 season between his vegas penalty and the god awful tyre strategy they had him on that ruined his race in abu dhabi.
bahrain peaked people’s interest in him- between the ‘im faster’ and team fighting on track (might i add is what you all wanted to see charles do in australia because the team orders were holding him back but got really pissed off that carlos had the gall to fight in bahrain when charles’ pace was thrown off by his breaking issues) . seeing carlos come into the season with so much uncertainty surrounding him and his performance and seeping him qualify second row abd taking a podium on the first race of the season generated more excitement. he was showing the beginnings of a promising final season with ferrari which is a pretty big deal . so of course there is going to be a huge media buzz around him . everyone expects the red bulls to do well it’s not breaking news when max verstappen wins but a driver with nothing to lose driving like he has nothing to lose is an interesting story . it’s journalism girl.
regarding the appendix, again this just adds to the excitement about him . it’s all narrative . like obviously people were shocked when he was diagnosed with appendicitis and it invited jokes about alex albon and his appendicitis which spurred on the media attention . and showing up to watch the race 24 hrs after his surgery of course nobody expected that because he was literally there against doctors orders- which yet again is going to garner a lot of buzz that he is dedicated enough to the team to show up so quickly after surgery .
when it comes to him racing post appendectomy again it’s so obvious that this is something that the media will want to pick up ‘f1 driver takes first non-redbull win in 10 races 2 weeks after surgery’ is a great base headline . that’s journalism baby . but it got people talking because in all honesty he really shouldn’t have been in that car it’s clear that he’s still pretty in pain and people were curious - how will he perform? will he even make it through practise? is he recovered enough to drive? will he have to stop mid race? have they made accommodations to his car to take pressure off his wounds? like you have to remember the toll these cars have on the body of the driver especially across the core. it’s incredibly impressive for someone to get in the car in the process of recovering front any surgery. and for carlos to be still in the late stage of recovery and to pull such impressive results in qualifying and the race is impressive . objectively he had physical hinderance and raced extremely well in spite of it . people are going to talk about it because it is pretty impressive.
as for carlos winning driver of the day again people are just excited . voted him driver of the day in bahrain for his sheer fucking audacity and pulling the first podium of the season which got peoples hopes up for ferraris performance for the rest of the season . he got driver of the day in bahrain because people were extremely impressed with how he raced given his physical circumstances . yes i think charles was also a contender for driver of the day because he also had a great race with the ferrari 1-2 and his defending against the mclarens but driver of the day is a fan vote and people will be voting for what generated the most excitement for them thing the race .
i also wouldn’t say charles GAVE him the position- he already had it . what you’re looking o say is that you’re disappointed charles didn’t have the opportunity to fight for the win. which yeah i get it i would also like to see a charles win this season and some more fighting on the track . but what we need to understand is that this point in time where charles was a few seconds behind carlos the priority was to defend against lando who was showing really good pace at which point charles has to decide if it’s worth trying to close the gap of around 5 seconds or defend against lando who was 2-3 seconds behind him . and obviously at the end he couldn’t increase his speed under the vsc . it’s just racing circumstances .
anyway my point is . is it really that deep in the end . yes carlos is getting a lot of attention right now but it’s just because there’s literally so much going on around him between his career uncertainty illness surgery and stellar performance in the early season . there is no plot against charles or whatever u think is happening and i’m willing to place my life savings that if another driver went under for surgery and pulled those results there wouldn’t be half the backlash as we r seeing . this is just how media works . people are interested in him right now . it’ll pass . we are only 3 races into the season . chill .
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mossmurdock · 7 months
Text
MORE THAN LIVING
✿ ao3 ✿ 
geto suguru/reader
summary: A year of retirement from being a jujutsu sorcerer finally pushes you to call someone you willed yourself to leave behind. Groceries are bought, a meal is shared, teeth are bared inches from skin, and hands are held back from tearing apart. Reunions have never been either of your strong suits.
tags: Mentioned Gojo Satoru, Mentioned Ieiri Shoko, Mentioned Nanami Kento, Mentioned Haibara Yu, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Codependency, Pining, but make it gross and a little scary, Past Relationship(s), Complicated Relationships, blood and teeth and love
notes: hello! thank you for reading. this one took some time but im liking it lots. suguru is so fun to write for, ive really liked exploring him so far. always feel free to leave any questions or comments, they always make me happy!
Resigning from jujutsu society is easy enough to have you second-guessing yourself. It frightens you a little, how easy the process is; you almost turn to the nearest suit to ask if this is really allowed. 
Sign here, don’t forget to perform an exit interview tomorrow afternoon, and make sure to resubmit all the cursed tools you may have checked out of the armoury; negligence to do so will be considered a severe infraction. Remember that you can always come back to us.
In the span of a day, you quietly retire at the age of twenty. The first thing you do is your laundry. The dried blood washes out nicely enough; you throw away the uniform all the same.
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Retired life is easy. You eat, you drink, and you try to live. Maybe you dream about killing. You rise out of bed every morning without sparing a glance at your hands until you’ve reached the bathroom and thoroughly scrubbed them in the sink. It makes you remember him as a clean slate, something you never touched. 
It really is no use, you think of him all the same, but tradition only dies with someone.
A year into this and you still manage to forget to go grocery shopping at the end of each month. You’ve once more run out of money for takeout and the fridge has been empty for two weeks. All that sits inside are bottles of your favorite drink and the brand of candy Satoru handed you the night you retired. It was his favorite so naturally he thought it was your favorite too. 
The candy is too sweet and too waxy, but you shove it down for breakfast before starting your day. The bag is empty before you know it, light enough in your hand to be blown away with a breath. You lick at the sugar stuck to your lips before trading the empty bag for your phone.
This should feel like a horrible idea, but your hands all too eagerly wrap around the frame of your phone, the pads of your finger pressing into the screen like they were meant to leave marks on skin. You pretend you aren’t sure what it is about this morning that has you wanting to hear his voice. 
The ring only echoes once. 
“Suguru,” you greet familiarly. He had always said your voice came out scratchy over the phone, arguing with you for years about getting a new one because he never heard you clearly when you delivered information about missions. You argued that it was just the way he chose to hear you. Eventually, you both settled on messaging each other instead. You wonder if you sound any different now, if he’s even searching for that sort of thing after so long. 
He says your name back. So neutral that it's polite, so detached from himself that you’re starting to think he might be back to normal. Your mind flashes to the night of your retirement, the awkward shapes of his hands, and how they’d tried to bite into the fat of your arms: desperate. It feels important to remember that you couldn’t completely decipher him in your last moments.
It’s been a year since then.
“Come shopping with me,” you propose. “I’ll cook for you.”
You never cooked much in your life, things never exactly called for that sort of thing. Though, Haibara would always praise you for your simple meals. The two of you had picked up the nasty habit of heading to bed too late, often caught in meaningless conversations in the kitchen.
Suguru has never had any of your cooking before, always so polite to refuse.
“Is retired life really that lonely so soon?” he asks.
“You sound like Satoru,” you note, more to yourself than anything, but you’re aware of how it will irk him.
“It was just a simple question.” An unkind one, but he chooses not to mention that part when he pauses and lets a silence hang in the static. “I can find some time to come along, but there’s no need to cook for me.”
To anyone, it would seem like he’s saying it to be kind, but, deep down, he says it so that he can get away from you more quickly. The idea of him sharing a meal with you sticks to the front of your mind all the same.
You pick at the leftover candy stuck between your teeth with your tongue and swallow the leftover pieces away. “Ok,” you say. “I’ll send my address.”
“Alright,” he bids simply. Then, almost as a calculated afterthought, “See you.”
“See you.”
You hang up and maybe that’s finally living. 
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The pants you decide on wearing tend to drag along the floor even after you cuff them. They’re well-loved because you take good care of them. There’s a stain on the left side of the waistband, a mended hole in one of the pockets, and the fabric is soft enough to want to drown in. They weren’t always yours, it’s what makes them even better. 
The sky is gray tonight and matches the color of Suguru’s loose shirt well. You bite down the urge to tell him he looks good, and that the two of you are matching. It would have been easier over the phone, with him not being able to hear your voice as much as your own. He could mistake you as a stranger and start all over again instead of seeing something so rundown and full and yet completely barren. 
“The supermarket’s only open for another hour, let’s be quick and not inconvenience the workers.” Suguru walks through the automatic doors and is immediately illuminated by the fluorescent lights. The bags under his eyes are highlighted enough to seem like they were painted on. The suggestion is more of his polite code: Let’s make this quick so we can head back to our separate lives.
Because how wrong of you was it to have called him after an entire year of no contact? How wrong was it to want to have the weight of his arm against yours while you both stared at different kinds of produce you aren’t able to afford? You wanted to see him again. You want to ask why he looks so tired, why he keeps looking down at your shoes and not at your eyes.
Why is it that ever since leaving all you have been able to do properly is reminisce? You must have forgotten how to make anything new of yourself, how to hold anything softly.  
“Hey.” You find Suguru in the candy aisle. He’s staring at the same brand of candy you grabbed out of your fridge this morning. “I’m ready to leave. You done?”
Despite your words, he doesn’t move, and you only walk to stare at the rows with him. It’s colorful, full of bright cyans, electric yellows, and eye-straining magentas. It’s almost funny, the way the two of you look so dull in comparison; the gray of his shirt and the black of your sweats are bland in comparison. 
Your arm extends against your will, grabbing a random brand and unceremoniously chucking it into your own hand-held basket. You then reach again to pick Satoru’s favorite flavor and gently place it into Suguru’s. 
If he looks at you any differently, you miss it completely while turning toward the cashier. 
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Suguru must forget about not accompanying you back to your apartment. The way he extends his hand out for you to offer him the keys is natural and fluid.
He had carried your grocery bags along with his own the entire walk back, silent, only looking back at you when he was unsure of where to go. The only words out of you were directions, niceties, and asking if he’s sure about carrying all those bags for so long feels out of place. You’ve seen him lift heavier with just one finger. 
The sound of the door closing should shift something in the atmosphere, it should make things feel heavier. The sound of it locking should have you wondering why this man is in your house, why this stranger has invited himself in. You catch his eye as you're slipping off your shoes. He’s in your kitchen, organizing things like he belongs there, like this is his hundredth time visiting instead of his first. Your grocery bags are already separated from his and halfway into the fridge. Your shared look is just that: shared, nothing else, and nothing more. 
The two of you fall into preparing a meal without noticing. 
Your rice cooker is ancient and covered in stickers that have no coherent theme. What looks like hundreds of awful renditions of cartoon characters you no longer recognize and fading “THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING WITH US!” labels cover the appliance like armor. It makes it look even more aged. You push down the itch to scratch away at them, telling yourself you don’t want to deal with all that leftover sticky residue. But really, you just like to remember who placed them there.
The cloudy water of the washed rice pours out into the sink loudly. You hear Suguru cutting something but don’t remember giving him a knife or a cutting board. He must have found them on his own. The both of you move around each other like second nature.
He’s cutting the sausage he bought into small slices. They look like red blood cells. 
“Planning on cooking those?” It’s the first thing you say after what feels like hours.
  “You never ate them raw,” he recalls. He’s right. You find a pan for him and place it on the small stove. But before he can turn anything on you stop him. 
“The smell. It’ll get in your hair,” you caution. Have you been speaking in whispers this entire time?
Suguru only brushes his bangs aside, not looking at you as he slides the cut-up meat into the pan and lets the stove warm. “I’ll just shower after. You have one, don’t you?”
You’re struck dumb for only a second; the eggs you’re whisking are beginning to foam up from your non-stop whisking. “Ok then.” Your voice comes out a little flat.
The both of you end up with bowls of food and on the couch. Rice and eggs and cut sausage. It reminds you of being in school. Your tiny television feels like a much-needed buffer, there's a movie playing that you two have watched at least ten times already. You put it on purposefully because it leaves room to talk. 
When your bowl is half empty, Suguru finally picks up the conversation by the arms and drags it from one grave to another. It distracts you from the fact that he’s hardly touched his own food. 
“The apartment suits you,” he compliments. 
“Does it?” It’s rhetorical, but you know he’ll give half of an elaboration. 
He hums, makes a point of looking around and then at you. “It's nice.”
“I am nice,” you agree.
“A little selfish, too,” he adds bluntly. “But yes, nice.”
And there’s that word. Selfish. After years of the word lingering at the edge of your tongue, he ripped it away from you in a breath, like it was never yours. 
“That’s alright. I like the sound of both.” You set your half finished bowl of food on the coffee table, next to the old bag of candy you completely forgot to trash this morning.
You look at him. His expression is back on the screen. He’s glowing and you’re trying to remember how to look at him normally, not like he’s just dropped from the sky and offered you a ride home.
“Is that why you think I left, because I’m selfish?” you ask. The taste of that candy sticks into the roof of your mouth. 
He stirs, still not looking at you. When he speaks you barely hear any of the sound or dialogue playing on your TV. “I think leaving was the best way for you to forget.”
“No,” you correct. The tremor in your voice finally has him turning. The left side of his face is lit up by a scene you have memorized. The protagonist is on the verge of tears as she is forced to choose between love and power. The people around her are yelling about which one they want her to choose. The coloring of the terrain she is stuck in splashes across Suguru’s face like paint. You can make out the trees and the sky on his skin, the blood on the protagonist’s hands stands out the most on his cheeks. She will choose love, and it might kill people. 
“Selfishness had something to do with it, but I never wanted to forget anyone.” You look at him, pushing him to look back before confessing. “I never wanted to forget what you were before me.”
You remember countless late nights and even earlier mornings, the way your hands felt after a difficult day, Satoru making you laugh so unexpectedly that you coughed up blood, Suguru handing you a tide pen to get the mess off your uniform sleeves. You remember the streamers that were hung up when Haibara and Nanami were introduced as first years, the confetti you had to pick out of Shoko’s hair.
You burned your bloodied uniform the first day you left but kept the buttons. You kept all the clothes Suguru let you borrow and you pretended to forget to give them back. An old digital camera sits on your bedside table, filled with photos of Suguru and the mundane. Of him simply walking ahead of you, having a conversation with someone else, of his wrists, his eyes, of him smiling, of him sleeping: just him. Maybe that’s when your hands started to itch a little more; could anyone blame you for wanting to reimagine the circumstances a little?
The sewn initials of Suguru’s name scratch at your ankle, the pants had become uncuffed since the walk back from the grocery store. The tag is branded into the fabric forever, having survived multiple wash cycles at your laundromat. Moving to tuck your legs beneath your weight, you swiftly cuff them again and watch him catch the movement. He hadn’t been staring at your shoes. Before he turns his head, you catch him biting his lip with enough force to draw blood.
Hypocrites, both of you.  
Your eyes swerve back to the bag of candy, crumpled and a husk of what it used to be. You ravaged it after a year of letting it sit in your fridge, after a year of only remembering. You wish Suguru could have seen you do it. Maybe you did kill something today. Would a softer love be easier to reject?
When he gets up from his seat, it startles you. He takes both bowls to the kitchen. The realness of his body has you somewhat hyperaware, too mindful of the fact that he’s no longer a picture at the top of your desk drawer. You watch him like a movie, afraid of missing a detail and wishing so terribly that you could reach out to him like it was nothing; lunge out just to keep him in your hands. The faucet turns on and it nearly sounds like the beginning of an abstract soundtrack, like someone behind the scenes finally realized that only hearing your voices amongst the silence of the room was too overwhelming. 
“You sounded different on the phone.” He speaks over the white noise of the running water. If you didn’t know any better you might have missed the way he masked his voice. It’s almost funny; nostalgia always seemed like something too juvenile for him to entertain. Mature Suguru: you’ll never catch him looking back at the camera when he’s walking away. 
“What was different?” you ask, basked in a suspense that has you reeling.
The faucet cuts and you see Suguru’s shoulders tense up over the sink. His palms dig into the metal, and you can’t see it, but you imagine he’s gripping the edge of the counter tightly enough to leave a brand, heated with his youth.
Then his shoulders drop, you aren’t sure where his energy goes, if he’s just pushed it somewhere else or if it expelled from him in a way you couldn’t see. He moves back to the couch, back to you. You twist your body then, meeting him halfway, your ribs digging into the hard back of your cheap furniture. You feel like a siren calling him out to sea, except what you’re offering isn’t anywhere near as pretty, and he actually might be drowning without your help.
His hands, large and wet, cup around your damp cheeks. His thumb brushes at something underneath your eye and things are more right than they are wrong, not perfect, but right. 
“You sounded like you missed me,” he says finally. His head is bowed, inches from your own and you can sense the sincerity on his lips, the subtle catch in his breath before his eyes squeeze shut and he continues. “Apologize.”
“For what?” you whisper, not challenging, simply begging for a chance to do it perfectly. 
He finally looks at you dead on, the color of his eyes going dark with the rest of the room: they’re infested with you. 
“For a while, it really did feel like I had everything figured out,” he says instead. His thumb doesn’t stop its insistent caress, his hands have begun to dry onto your skin. “If you had called sooner, I might have thought of you less.”
Your ribs hurt, a dull pain that you’re sure has made your chest red. And Suguru, his neck must hurt from bending down this low. All of this is very taxing. 
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. 
“Don’t,” he chokes out, even though he had just told you the opposite. His forehead collides with your own and your noses brush against each other. His eyes glide, pulled by a gravity you know too well, and land on your lips. His hands have cupped over your ears and tangled in your hair. 
Suguru kisses you like he’s starved and you kiss back. He drags your bottom lip through his teeth, something you’d only seen in movies. Things are wrong, things are right, and things aren’t perfect; you’re afraid your hands have been drenched in blood, a permanent splatter of paint. They’re hidden underneath your own weight, trapped, held back until Suguru’s hand leaves your face and melts into the curve of your neck; he drags you impossibly closer, enough to have you nearly falling. 
“Your hands,” he demands softly, almost dazed. “Hold onto me.”
But you feel just as drunk, so what comes out of your mouth is protest, completely contradictory of your body throwing itself onto him and letting him lift you over the wall of the couch and onto your feet. He kisses you while you’re up in the air, while you’re half in the middle of your sentence, while your hands wrap around his neck for support and squeeze. All of it’s engulfing enough to have you spinning at the thought of his strength. You never used to think of it much. 
“I think I might be killing you,” you warn him deliriously, once he leaves enough room for you to breathe. 
You think he might have not heard you if not for the look you catch on his face. Suddenly— alarmingly—it becomes so full of love that it feels like you’re being devoured whole. You don’t know how you’ve missed this starved expression for so long. It matches the intent of your hands: both are guilty, both are lovers, and both are a little violent. 
“Yeah,” he replies hoarsely. He says it plainly, like you’ve just told him the weather, like you’re not obviously holding back from touching him again.
“Yeah?” you echo, a little more than mocking at his answer.
“Yes,” he replies more formally. His face pulls away from yours, and all his bending makes you forget how tall he really is. He grips your arms and puts some distance between the two of you, it feels like miles. There’s that bite in his hands again, awkward, too wretched for even him to hold onto on his own. “I don’t want to stop,” he declares. His grip tightens, a comforting gnaw, and he bends down to ghost your lips; Suguru swallows your breath of surprise like it might be his last meal on this Earth.
And maybe you need him because the two of you are able to kill and be killed a little more easily than most. Maybe you need him because he remembers how you like things cooked and answers all your calls. Maybe you need him because that’s a simpler part of living. 
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clovenhoofedjester · 2 months
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jellicle lineups; part 1/4
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hi catsblur ! today i am presenting to you the fruits of my labor. my own little versions of the jellicle cats; obviously based on the replica designs With Fun Little Twists ! such as, they are not naked. ramble below the cut, both on designs and some personal thoughts on the characters
these designs are very much first-draft, subject to change, blah blah. you will very likely be seeing me drawing them differently if i post more of them. i just. urrbhhh. i had 2 draw them....
and the clothes ! even though they're very feline i draw them a bit too human-y for the nakedness to not look consistently weird. i will be drawing them closer to the stage designs in some instances but for rn. clothes. it was a fun exercise in character design too
the kittens are all young adults, think 18-20 ! as much as i love headcanons like demeter being sillabubs mother, it shrimply will not work out timeline-wise. so headcanons like that will be delegated to like... siblings and stuff
victoria | 🍧 💌 🩰
i started out with victoria's design not only because of her being the Main Kitten, but because she has such a concise and clear aesthetic to me. she actually started out with a simple pastel brown dance practice fit before i decided that i wanted to make the outfits ornate(ish) and ended up with a proper ballerina getup
i also quite like when victoria is not just solid white with some grey (love ones that are more yellow or brown) so i colored her fur with some blue and pink-ish tones not only to add more depth but to resemble the trans flag LOL
and i wanted to try something different with making her a bit more lavender than baby pink. i also based her overall look on obc victoria, portrayed by cynthia onrubia :^]
to move on to character interpretation, i think victoria is partially deaf and mute. she primarily communicates through dance. as one of the oldest kittens she'd be 19 in human years
plato | 💐 🕯 🍬
plato's design doesnt stray too far from his standard replica design but i tried to add my own flair . i tried to keep the creepy porcelain doll aesthetic going w their face added some more depth like some other designs with different colors and bold face stripes
i also really like the outfit i chose for them. the flower in their hair and on their shirt is a peony which is a popular wedding flower :") because im a sucker for platoria and very much subscribe to the idea that the ball we see is their funny cat wedding in a way
the outfit is based on standard ballerino costumes but i tried to stray from it with the silky half-skirt thing and pointe shoes. lets go queer cats lets go
i think plato is also very quiet and that's why he and victoria were so drawn to each other. i also quite like the idea that he was a bit of a troubled stray before he found the jellicles. they would be 20 in human years
electra |⚡🥭 🔔
boy i STRUGGLED with electra's clothes i struggled so hard. i think i'm happy with what i ended up with though—i originally gave her the babydoll dress that sillabub has (inspired by artsed electra) but figured that i wanted at least one of the girls to be more tomboyish/butchy. thank you to that one production which apparently had electra be one of the raffish crew and get in on some of the boys' choreography
im very happy with what i did with her fur colors as well. silly little tortoiseshell :] its based on a nonrep but i have no idea which one. enjoy her freckles too
i think electra deserves to be a little spunky. [whispers] i also think shes bombalurinas little sister. she'd be 18 in human years
etcetera | 🎠 🍯 🏅
i needed at least one cat with a circus aesthetic. say hello to my magnum opus: jacked tumbler acrobat etcetera. it was only a matter of time until someone said fuck it and let one of the girls perform lifts and stuff. this is mostly because ive always really liked how shes usually the cat to do the flying trapeze bit and wanted to push it further
i also struggled SO EXTREMELY HARD with making her colors look nice and makeup distinctive but i figured it out in the end—thank you obc cettie for the mismatched eyeshadow and such. i also wanted to give a cat a short bob type of head fur/hairstyle and she fit the bill
nothing much about specific character notes other than like... i want to make her related to some of the cats but cannot for the life of me figure out who 2 assign. also she'd be around 19 in human years, a couple months younger than vic
sillabub | 🌻 🧋 🎼
i think of all of these little fellas sillabub is my favorite. several elements are balanced in her design—the standard jemima with a darker/reddish palette, the more softer and lighter sillabub design, the red eye patch from il sistina jemima, and the overall aesthetic of obc jemima with the big hair and wide, deepset eyes
i've seen her typical design critiqued by some people and wanted to incorporate those critiques by making her look less similar to demeter/bombalurina, adding more red to her body fur, and making her makeup more distinct and less... wooo girl give us nothing. and i included the squiggly on her collarbone
i also really REALLY love her overall aesthetic of sweet kindhearted girl NAMED AFTER A DEMON WITH SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG COLORING AND GIGANTIC SPIKED COLLAR !!!! so i decided to push it by making the collar definitely too big for her, giving her a slightly "edgy" outfit and making her hair resemble devil horns
as for character stuff, i think she has magical powers though i haven't developed exactly What they are yet. beyond her sweet exterior they trouble her. [whispers] i also think shes demeters little sister. she would be 18 in human years, a few months younger than electra and tumblebrutus
pouncival | 🌱 🩹 🍵
i struggled with pouncival's clothing design like i did electra's because i didn't go into drawing him with a particular gimmick in mind. but i think i'm happy with the casual formal look. it makes him look like such a kind young man even if he's a little shit
i did have a lot of fun trying to make his makeup distinctive from tumblebrutus'—so many fellas with brown eyepatches ! so his colors are more dark and striking. i also tried to make him look less like Typical Cis Man by giving him a bit of black lipstick
enjoy his freckles too
but like. i think hes literally such a little cis guy. nothing else for me to add for my specific interpretation of him it's all laid out. this guy fucking loves rocket league, fishing and chess. he'd be 19 in human years
tumblebrutus | 🎡 🥊 🍦
SWEET TUMBLEBRUTUS. i think drawing him here gave me a soft spot for him. with his outfit mirroring cettie's i didn't much struggle with that. his colors are also based on obc tumblebrutus
when i was first conceptualizing my own versions of the cats i wanted at least one of them asides from grizabella to have wavy fur. and idk what it is, maybe it's the lack of content for him, but i was really drawn to the idea of curly tumblebrutus!
i wanted their design to be distinctive from pouncival's so i made their colors softer, kinda watercolor-y. OH AND THEIR FUR IS ALSO MEANT TO BE A LITTLE TRANS FLAG COLORED
as for character, i think he is also a bit troubled, as a son of grizabella's. you heard me, people. i'm probably the first person ever to headcanon that. he'd be 18 in human years
AND THAT'S ABOUT IT ! thank you for reading this far, have a great day and stay tuned for more designs in the days to come !
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Ateez 9th member
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Roux and her dates
Ryujin:
Roux and Ryujin were talking via SNS, about their tour plans and countries they will be in the future. The two have been to unofficial dates before, but never a formal one at that. Ryujin sent a a flirt message:
“Why don’t you come have dinner with me and then we talk more? 👀”
“Sure babe😉”
With that settled, at a Friday they met up in front of a famous trendy restaurant in Seoul. As the night went by, they got talking about their time together at JYP, their dreams and goals, and their personal life.
"You know, Jinnie, there's something I've been wanting to share with you. Ive been seeing your performances and I really admire your confidence on stage and how effortlessly you command attention. It's truly captivating, as if you cast a spell on them.”
"Wow, thanks babe. That means a lot coming from you, you’re gonna make me blush. Honestly, I've always been in hypnotized by your stage presence! You really evolved, it’s like a whole different girl from the one I met back then.”
"Thanks darling. It's not always easy, but when I'm up there, it's like I'm in my element. And being able to connect with fans through music, it's a feeling like no other. And the guys been helping me build my confidence. But what have you been up to in your rest days??”
Ryujin gives her little charming chuckle and proceeds saying; "In my rest days? Well, you know I like to rest at home, like binge watching some new tv show, listening to music, and cooking! You know is like a therapy for me!”
As Roux smiles, she throws a shot; “You know, next time you rest you can call me to cuddle, right?”
"Yeah, I will, it sounds nice. You know, you continue being fearless. You're not afraid to be you, and that's a rare quality.“
Roux looks into her eyes and says; "Thank you, but it’s not hard when I’m around you, you are captivating.”
Ryujin smiles and reaches to hold Roux hands; "You know, you mean a lot to me..and also,we could be a very hot pair…”
“I know right?..” as she giggles, they both continue enrolling through the night, wondering about what could be their future together…
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Yves:
They don’t really know each other, but one day Roux sent a message complimenting Yves a story she posted. Yves replied complimenting her back and they started talking. A few weeks later Yves decided to invite her to a night out.
They first meet up at a trendy bar known for its lively atmosphere and creative cocktails. As they chat over drinks, they discover shared interests in music, fashion, and travel, sparking a sense of excitement for the night ahead.
After a few drinks, they move to a nearby club where they start dancing, they feel free. As they lose themselves in the music, dancing together with uninhibited joy and passion, their laughter blending seamlessly with the rhythm of the crowd.
As the night passes, they take breaks from dancing to share intimate conversations in quieter corners of the club, getting to know each other on a deeper level amidst the vibrant energy of the night.
"Roux, can I be honest with you for a moment?"
Roux smiles and says; "Of course, unnie. What's on your mind?"
After a deep breath she said; "I just want to say that I've really enjoyed getting to know you. There's something about your presence that's so captivating and genuine. I feel like I can be myself around you."
Roux blushes; "Thank you unnie. I feel the same way about you. It's rare to meet someone at first sight who understands you on such a deep level, you know?"
Yves nods; "Yeah, it is rare. But with you, it feels natural. I admire your strength and your passion for life. You have this inner light that shines so brightly, and it's impossible not to be drawn to it."
"Wow, thanks unnie. That means a lot to me. And you, there's a kindness in your eyes that speaks volumes. It's like you see the beauty in everyone and everything around you."
Yves looks away into the crowd before proceeding; "I try my best. But with you, it's easy. There's something about you that brings out the best in people. I feel like I can open up to you in ways I never thought possible."
Roux looks down to Yves hands, looks up where their eyes meet, and gently takes her hands; "I'm glad you feel that way. Even thought we only met personally today, I feel like I’ve known you for a long time."
As Yves squeezes her hands, she said; "Me too. I don't know what the future holds for us, but I do know that I want you to be a part of it. You've captivated me."
Roux leans very close to Yves, before whispering; "Then let's make the most of every moment we have together. Whatever the future may bring." before pulling her back to the dance floor.
As the early hours of the morning approach, they decide to call it a night, their hearts racing with adrenaline and their faces flushed with excitement. With promises to do it all again soon, Roux and Yves part ways, their spirits lifted by the unforgettable memories they've created together on this exhilarating date.
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Giselle:
Giselle and Roux met back in 2020, when their schedules overlapped. Since then they kept talking and going out. Roux just called Giselle and asked her to come over.
They start by watching random tv shows, before watching the movie “Carol”. The movie is pretty intense, and made them cry at the end. As it ended they started discussing their favorite scenes, moments and critics of the movie. That lead to an intimate conversation.
“You know Roux, I really connect with you! We share similar struggles, issues, and moments. I feel you and I match.”
“I feel that way too! I guess we both dealt with bad comments from the media..”
“Yes! Talking about that, how are you dealing with that scandal? I mean, it’s bad enough to have people eyeing your personal life, but something so intimate as sexuality must be shit.”
“I mean, I guess I’m fine? Yeah it’s annoying, but that’s nothing really I can do? Dealing with this industry have so many problems, but also have me the ability to share my music, my passion, something so dear to me…and have so many supporters feels nice, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. Feels nice to not feel alone.”
After a moment of quiet, she said:
“I don’t mean to be weird or make you uncomfortable, but is it true?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Oh, hope you don’t let anything bad get to your head, because you are a really amazing person, intelligent and gorgeous at that.”
“Oh stop you’ll make me blush.”
“You know, I’ve never really thought of myself being with a girl…I guess I never gave myself the time to really think. All of my life I just thought I had to like men, before I even stop to think what I really like..”
“Oh I know that feeling. I guess you just have to have some introspective moment with yourself, do you see yourself with a woman? With a man? Or both? Do you see yourself settling down with all of them? Or just one of them? Guess you should just really think, and don’t pressure yourself with it! Everyone have their own time!”
“Thanks….though I feel like I wouldn’t mind doing any of that with you…of course, slowly, but if you are open to it, I wouldn’t mind…”
As they cuddle together, they spent the rest of the night talking and just being comfortable with each other.
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Yunjin:
This year 2024 Coachella happens to have both Le Sserafim and Ateez performing. What a better excuse to have more time together? First they meet backstage and go out to see other head liners. But at their day off they decided to go to an amusement park.
They arrive early, eager to beat the crowds and make the most of their time. Hand in hand, they start with the roller coasters, laughing and screaming as they race through loops and twists, adrenaline pumping through their veins.
Afterward, they explore the various attractions, from the dizzying heights of the Ferris wheel to the exhilarating drops of the Tower of Terror. With each ride, they bond over shared excitement and occasional nervousness, reassuring each other with comforting words and playful nudges.
As they stroll through the park, they indulge in classic carnival treats like cotton candy and funnel cakes, savoring the sweetness of the moment as they exchange stories and inside jokes.
Feeling adventurous, they challenge each other to games of skill and chance, determined to win each other stuffed animals as souvenirs of their unforgettable day.
As the sun sets and the park lights up with colorful displays, they find themselves on the carousel, riding side by side on majestic horses, feeling like carefree children lost in a whirlwind of joy and wonder.
As the night comes to a close, they share a quiet moment on a bench, watching the fireworks paint the sky with bursts of light and color. With hearts full of happiness and memories to last a lifetime, they share a tender kiss, grateful for the magic of their day at the amusement park.
"I've been thinking a lot lately about life, you know? A few years ago I thought I would just become a lawyer, but now I am here, traveling the world, seeing so many different cultures, exploring the world.”
“I get it, seeing all of this make you feel so accomplished."
“You know, whenever I’m with you, it’s like the world stops, the sounds fades, it’s just you and me.”
“That's exactly how I feel too. You just always manage to make so comfortable, so nice."
"And I love that. I love how we can just be ourselves with each other, no pretenses, no expectations."
"Me too. It's like we have this special connection that's just ours, you know?"
"Yeah, I do. And I never want to take it for granted.."
“I'm truly grateful for tonight. It was a cool way to rewind."
“You’re right.” With that they share an embrace watching the sun go down.
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