#-just because she thinks anyone should be able to grow into a good person

[spotsupstuff]

Only 25% processing power dedicated to sparrows? Thats nothing! *dedicates 87% of my processing power to sparrows*

25% of an Iterator processing power has to be an equivalent to like. three or four NASA centrums combined or smth i do not know processing powers but it has to be insanely much..

n then they make some sort of plans for the night that appeal to Euros Very Much and suddenly all processing power he can spare goes to it for the whole day till the plan happens

[selvepnea]

Feeling. Weird...

[weirdmageddon]

i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. ​she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

[can-youimagine]

Mix Up (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer sends the wrong note.

TW: adult themes, embarrassment

Word Count: 1499

Masterlist

Everyone in the BAU contributed something to make the team feel like a family. Rossi opened his house and cooked for the team. Morgan and Hotch were always quick to praise a member for their accomplishments. Penelope always made sure that she had treats for anyone who might be having a bad day. You left notes for everyone. After each case, someone got a note, telling them how much you appreciated them and their contributions. 

Last week, Hotch got a note. He tucked it into his bag with a smile before making sure to thank you and tell you how much you are appreciated on the team. 

Today, it was Spencer’s turn to receive a note. The two of you had roomed together for this case, and you saw how much of a toll it took on him. He shouldn’t say he is surprised to see a note on his desk, but he is.

Spencer,

I can’t imagine how difficult this case was for you. You don’t have to be brave all the time, y’know. It’s okay for you to be scared. You are human, even if you know more than a computer. I am so proud of the work you accomplished and more than grateful for it. Know that I am proud of you, always. 

You are the person I can trust with anything. You are the only member of the team who I worry about, even when we’re not out on a case. Not because I think you can’t handle yourself but because I know you’re worrying about all of us. Please, don’t let me be the cause of any of your stress. 

I wish I could keep writing, but I can barely keep my eyes open.

With love,

(Y/N).

He smiles widely at the note, tucking it into his bag before anyone else has a chance to see it. After all, you didn’t write it for anyone else. You wrote it for him. You thought of him outside the case, and you thought that you wanted to make him feel good. The more he thinks about it, the more light-headed he becomes. He heads to the kitchenette, eager to get a cup of coffee and hide his growing blush. 

You’ve left him five notes in the last year. Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, he is certain he would have each word memorized. He’s memorized every interaction you’ve had with them. Though, he knows these memories aren’t quite perfect. Every time a memory is retrieved, it becomes altered, and he has replayed every memory more times than he can count. He’s replayed them, he’s altered them, he’s even added to them. 

If he could bring you just a fraction of the joy that you bring him, he would be able to rest easy. The way his heart flips every time he gets a note from you gives him the perfect idea of how to please you.

When he gets home, he sits at his desk, trying to come up with something to say to you, but nothing feels right. How is he supposed to tell you how much you mean to him without telling you just how much you mean to him? Finally, he picks up his pen, deciding that if he writes a draft of what he wants to say first, he’ll be able to write what he should say.

(Y/N),

You are more appreciated than you know. I love you more than you know. Yes, this case was hard for me, but the biggest challenge was sharing a room with you. It’s always tough to sleep on cases, but how am I supposed to get any sleep when I’m only a few feet from you? When, if you’d let me, I’d be able to sleep in your arms? When I’d be able to touch you, kiss you, fuck you?

God, it’s all I could think about. I shouldn’t even tell you what I was thinking. It’s not even just what I was thinking when we were on the case. I think about you constantly. I think of how kind you are, how much praise you give. I can’t help but wonder if you would receive praise just as well. If, when I tell you that you were made for my cock, you would fall apart. If I could, I would give you all the praise in the world just to see you break, watch you come undone, on my cock, on my fingers, on my tongue.

I know you would taste incredible. What I wouldn’t give to get even a taste. Though, I know I wouldn’t be able to stop at just a taste. I’d have to be selfish, and I know you wouldn’t complain.

Spencer slides his chair away from his desk. He quickly folds the paper and sets it aside. Now that that’s done, he gets to work on his actual letter. A much tamer, much safer for work, much friendlier letter that lets you know that you are appreciated.

Again, he folds the note, writing your name on the outside, and sets it aside. 

When he leaves in the morning, he grabs the note off his desk, tucking it into his bag. He frowns, noticing that your car is already in the garage. He had hoped that he could leave the note on your desk as a surprise, but there’s no doubt that you’re already working on your files. He decides that he’ll drop it on your desk as he walks by then hide in the breakroom while you read it.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed by what he said, and he meant every word. It just feels like an invasion of privacy to watch you, and he’s not sure how he would be able to carry on with the day if he saw even the hint of a frown on your face.

The elevator opens, and he sets his plan into motion. He unpacks his bag, sliding the note into his hand before walking past your desk. 

“Spencer, you dropped something,�� you call, but he keeps walking, and out of the corner of his eye, he watches you open the note. That’s when he realizes his mistake. Your name is nowhere on the back of the paper. He panics but keeps walking. What is he supposed to say? “Sorry, that actually isn’t meant for you, I mean it is, but you definitely should not be reading that, in a completely normal not creepy way.”?

He focuses on his coffee, He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. If hwatching the sugar dissolve. He’s lucky, he’ll be able to hide in here all day and never have to look at you again.

Spencer Reid is very rarely at a loss for words. He can almost always come up with something to say. Now, as he walks back into the bullpen, he has no clue what he can say to you. 

It appears that he doesn’t have to. You aren’t at your desk anymore, much to Spencer’s relief. He turns his focus to the papers in front of him. Files that normally wouldn’t take him more than ten minutes are taking almost an hour. He doesn’t look up until he hears a door open.

Hotch’s office door.

He closes his eyes, praying there isn’t a case already. He doesn’t hear Hotch. Instead, he hears footsteps walk down the stairs and into the bullpen. Hesitantly, he opens his eyes. You are getting settled at your desk.

No, no, no, no, no.

You did not go to Hotch after reading his note. You couldn’t have. You would have talked to him before you got him fired, right?

“What was that about?” Emily asks you. You turn to answer, and Spencer is trying to listen, but Morgan grabs his attention first.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you mean?”

Morgan rolls his eyes. “I’m finishing these files faster than you.”

Spencer shrugs. “I’m just distracted, that’s all.”

“Hey, you know we’re here for you, right?”

“I know,” he answers, looking back at the file. 

The day continues without you talking to him, and he sure as hell isn’t going to talk to you. Since Hotch hasn’t come down to fire him, Spencer assumes that his job is safe.

You get up around noon, stretching as you do. You grab your bag, a piece of paper between your fingers. You let it fall as you walk passed his desk. Spencer quickly picks it up, unfolding it.

Spencer,

Buy me dinner, and I’ll make sure you get something sweet.

He rereads the sentence over and over again. He’s convinced it’s some sort of joke, but he holds onto the hope that it isn’t and that he actually hasn’t fucked this up beyond belief.

When you come back, you glance at him. If he wasn’t a profiler, he’s not sure he would’ve caught it, but you seem nervous. He smiles to himself. 

[satoruhour]

While I know Suguru is the og girldad, there’s something so endearing about Satoru with a daughter.

First time she’s in his arms and it’s like somebody put the sun into his palms. She has his white hair and six eyes but in shape of your facial features, his loud and boisterous personality and his sweet tooth, and there’s not a thing on this planet he cherishes more than her. Spoils her, wants to be her “superhero” dad children look up to, you best believe everything she draws for him is kept secure in a folder in his room. He never lets anyone treat her as inferior to boys (knowing the misogyny in jjk universe), and both of them love you to piecessssss🥹

Like I just randomly imagine him baking a cake with his little daughter for your birthday and MY HEARTHNSJ😭

WHEN US MEANS MORE THAN ME & U

a/n: literal tears. bye. i love dad gojo sm. wrote this through tears while listening to this. tagging @crysugu @jabamin @hyomagiri @seeingivy ✶

wc: 3k plus?? man idfk cant see thru my tears

✶ dad!gojo . . .

. . . who ages so well the more he grows older. if you think he looks good at 28, just wait until he’s 34, or 40. although he still has a baby face, his features have matured way more, now, crinkle lines on his forehead and around his lips that accentuate his dimples even more. he just looked… so damn good, truly keeping his physique well into his thirties, except you wouldn’t have known if his hair is turning grey, though, since it’s already white, but you can tell he’s happy when his body hair is not just white upon white.

. . . who has the palest skin, so when he starts to grow a noticeable moustache and goatee he shows you the short strands excitedly, pointing to the various parts of his face with an excited finger and a beaming smile. he annoys you by rubbing his chin and cupid’s bow along your skin in the morning or when he returns home — it’s a little funny seeing you jump in surprise.

. . . who only lets you dictate whether he should keep the facial hair and when you hesitate even one moment (“nope! let’s shave it!”) you’re pulled into the bathroom and handed a shaver and shaving cream. he hums when the blade glides along his skin, knowing you were too afraid to be too rough. gojo liked the tenderness of these moments, you perched upon his lap and bottom lip caught in between your lips as you focused on his chin and cupid’s bow. the grip on your waist is firm, loving the way your thighs close around his own so snugly.

“okay — last one,” you voice out softly, eyes squinting because it was so difficult trying to see white hair from skin. gojo simply giggles at your struggle and you tsk, telling to stop moving! before you’re yelping and the shaver leaves your hand, the soft, plump lips of satoru moving against yours. behind you, there’s a plop! of water, and gojo just laughs when he sees the shaver lodged into the toilet. “ah. well, let’s use yours.” and your mouth twists, “no! i use that to shave…” you trail off and you swear you can hear gojo’s grin and the insult of pervert on your lips. “well! all the more to use it!” ✶

. . . whose vision from the start is slowly turning true. the jujutsu world is in the good hands of his students that he’s able to spend time with you and the (unborn) baby more. he smiles more freely now that he works less missions, but still as cheeky and playful as ever, squishing your cheeks and moving them around as he plants kisses on them. he also shows his feelings more, not afraid to bury his face in your neck and ask for head rubs or tell you he might be thinking about suguru a little too much; the first time satoru put his head to your swelling belly and heard the kid kick he teared up right away, baby talking to the baby bump like the sap he is.

. . . who at first hated his family name because it was only ever associated with his powerful father and then him, with both of his renowned techniques, how it pointed straight to him being the strongest and a cog in the machine to overwork. but now, gojo rather likes it, referring to you as “my wife” and “mrs. gojo” more times than necessary. you gave him his surname meaning by saying your vows and slipping his (rather expensive) ring on your fourth finger. you gave the family name a sense of warmth and homeliness whenever he’d come home to you humming a tune from high school and cooking up some dinner. you gave ‘gojo’ a worth that means more than just the six eyes and limitless — that it’d mean that gojo was the penthouse in some far off tokyo district coupled with you and the baby growing in you.

. . . who when first handed his baby girl, cried full on tears in the hospital, both arms wrapped so snugly around his baby because he was afraid he was going to hurt her or drop her in some way. gojo is generally pretty large in stature that he makes your baby girl look so small that it’s endearing. your cheeks hurt from smiling so much at them, not having the energy to capture the moment since you just quite literally delivered. but satoru much rather have his girls in the picture, handing the baby back to you before he reveals his phone to snap a picture.

“w-would ya look at her?” satoru coos, rocking and bouncing his body gently to ease your baby back into slumber. there’s an ugly show of a mess on his face — snot falling everywhere and tear stains lining his cheeks. but there’s one final thing that has gojo choking up all over again; the baby is curious and feels up his hand, your husband letting a finger out before she curls her small fist around his finger. “oh my god.” it’s cute seeing gojo so distraught as tears spring to his eyes again and he can’t even form words. it makes the baby laugh and he sobers up a little, sniffing and raising a brow. “love seeing your papa cry, huh?” and the baby sputters again and giggles and satoru swears he ascends to heaven and mutters a promise more to himself than your darling girl. “i’ll protect that little smile for as long as i live, okay?” ✶

. . . who is entirely enamoured with his baby girl, carrying her a little too much when she should be in the crib, singing her little songs or pointing out the colours of the sky in the nursery. you watch the scenes like a proud wife and mother, still not used to the beautiful scenes and childlike decorations of the room — only because satoru would not let you in after learning why ellie from up couldn’t conceive even if the paint now was safe. but you don’t have the heart to turn away your husband when this is what you get out of it, reminiscent of when gojo had playfully done to tsumiki and megumi before (“the scenery is beautiful today, gojo-san!” vs. “i already know what colours are, dumbass.”). 

. . . who only asks you to rest while he takes on most of the diaper-changing and feeding duties. you weren’t even that old to begin with, but it seemed like just like you were pregnant, satoru found it offensive that you’d think of even lifting a finger. you let him, for a while, until you find out he’s putting on the diaper wrongly and putting a little too much formula in the bottle, but you simply pat his cheek when he tears again. by god, he doesn’t want to mess this up, he doesn’t want to mess you up, he doesn’t want to mess her up, but you show him with your hands wrapped around his. one, two, three, and a half cups into the bottle; wrap around her right, then her left and secure it with the provided adhesive.

“satoru, baby,” you sigh, going on your tippy toes to kiss away the tears spilling from his cheeks, “you’re not a bad dad because you didn’t know how to make her food or change her diaper.” your fingers are as light as dewdrops, always in awe of his flawless skin and looks, and now, in awe of his consideration and love of your baby girl. “but—” you put up a finger, “no buts— remember? we promised each other not to be sorry if we can’t help it. you are human, my love.” gojo heaves a shaky sigh and swallows away the sobs, nodding against your hand as he covers it and leans into your touch. “i am human,” and a little later after quelling the baby’s cries in bed, “thank you.” ✶

. . . who, when she’s old enough, takes her on flying mishaps, hands tucked under her arm pits to guide her through the house in exaggerated flight. it feels like dad is superman, the sofa, high chair, even mama is all too far away from her and she’s onto her next exciting adventure. the bubbly giggles from your darling girl is the only sound that matters to satoru, alongside your laughter as you watch the two in play while dinner simmer besides you. higher! higher! she asks when she can speak and he does just that with his imposing height, but gojo’s tallness never intimidates his baby girl; no, not when gojo satoru is her hero and you, her solace.

. . . who gives nothing but a multitude of praises when his girl is leaning more into the artistic side, asking for colour pencils and crayons and paint to explore her creativity that with each drawing she shows him, he gasps, falls to the floor, and cries out how it should belong in a museum! gojo is doing the most — hands on his chin and pointing to various parts of the drawing and discussing the “meaning” behind it when all your girl wanted to do was draw the three of you as a happy family. he’s buying the frame, making a plaque for the artwork to be hung; when he’s making copies of the artwork to keep in a folder, he’s crying his eyes out (“she just wanted to draw us, us! as a family!” you giggle, “yes, satoru, that’s what we are.”)

“girlssss! i’m home!” satoru grins when your baby runs up to him, swooping her up before she can crash into his legs and twirls her around. “papa! look at what i drew today!” you’re emerging after cleaning up her very passionate creative space after she swore on finishing it before your husband came back, smiling when she bounces on her heels. “woooow!” he clutches his heart, one knee and then the other before he croaks out “ooouhhhh! why isn’t this masterpiece in a museum yet?! it’s a crime!” if you were in high school, the gojo then would definitely barf at how cheesy he was being at the moment, “very compelling use of colour, here, miss gojo. hmm, yes, yes, i see how you used multiple colours for the sun — very effective in showing the many colours of the sunset!” you’re cheesing so hard at the display because he does this every. time. and it never fails to make her yell in excitement, running over to you as she gives you a big fat kiss on your cheeks, “mama helped me!” a raise of the eyebrow before you finally get your well-awaited kiss to your lips, “i’m sure she did, honey.” ✩

. . .who teaches her the basic things, not shying away from the harsh realities of the world and jujutsu society. he tells her about boys who make fun of girls and think it’s acceptable, or teachers that would only like the strong boys to carry the chairs to the centre of the classroom. he thinks that if he’s going to do this parenting shit, he’s going to do it right, not the way his parents did it, not the way the higher-ups “looked” over young sorcerers. he covers self-defense, verbal comebacks as well as a rejected raise of her hand to threaten a punch (you were the one to stop him from teaching her that — you could only thank it wasn’t a middle finger instead), praising and rewarding her with candy and blown raspberries into her skin.

. . . who teaches her mama is as important as he is, but your darling girl already knows the value of her mother who holds her tight when she has a nightmare, or the airplane on mama’s airline that always holds delicious food. she knows how much her mother loves her when you’re sharing a smile with her at the dinner table as satoru chokes again on his food, and when you pat her to sleep while telling the story of how you and gojo met. that’s why she was the one to suggest that they both bake you a cake for your birthday — with her as the head chef and satoru as her sous chef. 

“it has to be perfect, papa! no more burning the pancakes in the morning or putting too much sugar.” gojo stifles a laugh at that; it seems that his baby girl had heard the many trivial mishaps that had happened in the kitchen, snapping out of his daze when his daughter lands a light slap on his cheek. “pay attention!” satoru fully laughs now, okay, okay! he says and they read through the recipe together — a family recipe passed down to you — and they try their best. the flour is a little messy, the sugar is a tad too much and satoru thinks he may have preheated the oven too high a heat, but then there’s the familiar smell of the vanilla extract and the rise of the cake in the tin. your baby cheers, collapsing into gojo’s arms in front of the oven and together on the floor, they watch the cake ascend.

“careful, baby, it’s hot.” gojo brings her away when the cake is finally done, dramatically smelling and letting out a sigh at it, “it smells really good, ain’t it?” she purses her lips and points to herself, “all due to me!” and gojo hums in agreement. he’s content to let his baby girl take all the credit when she’s looking as adorable like that, finding that her confidence is looking more and more like his while your kindness shows when she’s propped up on the kitchen island and saying, “but papa was the one who helped me pour everything! so maybe it’s because of both me and papa.”

the “thank you” that satoru whispers into his girl’s temple is a whisper, and the house falls into a comfortable, more calm atmosphere as they work on the icing together. it’s clear that all her excitement has caught up to her and she’s now feeling a little sleepy in between, only shooting up when gojo’s announced the icing’s all mixed properly. “happy . . birthday . . mama,” she draws out in the air with satoru’s finger clutched between her fist, a clear layout in her young mind that he had no choice but to listen (he would always listen), lathering first the white base icing before the pressuring job comes and his darling girl is looking at him with narrowed eyes, “don’t mess it up, papa!”

“i won’t—” and before gojo can start on the lettering, you’re depositing the house keys into the bowl your husband gifted you in high school, letting out a chuckle at the scene before you: the sorcerer’s face caked in white, vanilla extract and broken egg shells on the island and in the middle of it, your husband and your daughter looking like deer caught in headlights.

“hi, mama,” they say in unison and your grin only widens. you could hardly be mad when this doesn’t happen often, already knowing the occasion, but they seemed to be a little bummed out from being found out so you only hope your hug can make it up. your baby girl goes first: she squeals when she’s scooped into your arms, smile so bright it could mirror any angel in heaven. while she still pouts, she’s more than happy to wish you a happy birthday. “thank you, baby. was baking with papa fun?”

she nods so hard her whole body moves in your arms, “papa is very bad at measuring stuff, though.”

you burst out laughing while your husband falls into a greater pout than your daughter did, brushing off the flour from his arms and taking the both of you into his embrace, “she’s so mean to me, sweets.”

“i’m not, just telling the truth. mama, i was the head chef, so i get to say what he’s bad at.” gojo’s pout worsens and you coo, pulling him closer.

“yes, but daddy did help with everything, didn’t he?” you whisper, brushing away the strands that fall over her face. you’ve never really taken the time to take in everything: her white hair, those blue eyes that are a little darker, the lines at the side of her smile that look like yours. instinctively, your forehead rests against hers and upon feeling her nod, you think that this is all you need. “thank you, darling.” and your girl grins again when she feels your peck on her forehead. gojo only can look at his girls with a content smile, pout stretching into his face while his hand never stops caressing your back. “can daddy have a kiss too?”

that night when she’s put to sleep after much protest (you both give in and end up watching your favourite movie together as a present), you’re drawing circles on gojo’s bare chest which also has grown a little bit of hair. his lips upon your hair feels like a divine blessing; he speaks.

“happy birthday again, baby,” a kiss, “only if you came home a liiittle later, though.”

you laugh softly, “actually, i sort of heard your shenanigans when i was standing outside the front door.” satoru jerks from the comfortable position, prompting your head to hit the headboard in a loud ‘thud’.

“oops sorry, baby— but what?!”

you shake your head, roll your eyes, pull him back to tuck yourself under his chin, “you’re so damn dramatic. i just didn’t want to interrupt the both of you. you mean a lot to her, you know.”

gojo sighs, moving away a bit for your head to tilt up and his heart still pulls and tugs like so many years ago. if he recalls correctly, it’s just exactly like this that you shared your first kiss together, the line between friends and lovers blurring so much that all it took was your eyes staring into his to make him notice he never had infinity on around you.

“you made me forget what i was gonna say,” satoru mumbles, a laugh cutting through his features when you smile sheepishly. he copies your outburst, “you’re so damn beautiful.”

“and you mean a lot to her, too. we mean a lot to her — it’s the least we can do when you’ve brought such a beautiful baby into the world,” gojo mutters — it’s late and he’s slurring his words from the fatigue. his eyes glow under the night light and he holds on to you just a little tighter, “to give her a normal life.”

his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and there’s the sheen of his tears again. “we will succeed, don’t you worry.” you silence his doubts with a kiss, “you’re doing a great job of a father, ‘toru. i will keep reminding you until my voice turns hoarse and i can’t speak.”

normally, he’d tease you but all it does is make the tears full spill over; but they’re happy this time. satoru only lets you catch his lips in a deep kiss, quietening his sobs as your hands fumble at his undercut and his face. you can hear the faint “thank you”’s he mumbles and you’re also close to crying, pulling away to admire him — god, you loved him so much you feel like you could collapse. he loved you so much he would do it all over again if it meant having you in every life.

“thank you for having me. thank you for loving me, baby,” satoru whispers, wiping at your tears as did you and he laughs, “dunno why we’re cryin’. s’pposed to be a happy moment.”

you huff (of course, he’d say something funny now), but that’s just one of many things you love about him. all you do is hold him closer that night and mutter a prayer — to virgin, to buddha, to anyone who would listen.

it might get difficult along the way: one of you may need to take on more missions, your baby will be growing up and heading to school. there will be difficult talks, puberty, tantrums, none of you were truly ready. and yet, despite it all, you’d still have your satoru, the one who made tsumiki and megumi into what they are today. despite it all, you’d still have each other and your darling girl, your family of gojo’s whose definition changed from suffocating to belonging. despite it all, as long as galaxies are created and supernovas happening and the planets revolve around the sun, it’d take light years for your love to diminish even one speck.

your love for each other could surpass the cosmos — that in itself is enough.

part two

[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back. (college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

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taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne @strawberryjuice9 @beezusvreeland @faretheeoscar @lunablackcosplay @t4naiis @peachey-pie @mcmiracles @hardlystrictlystarwars @migueloharastruelove @fruityfucker @kingtwhiddleston n @nappingmoon

chapter seven: an interesting observation of your stupidity and insensibility.

series

Pissed would be an understatement if you were to describe Miguel's reaction when he found out.

“Whoa, whoa –” Peter’s expression changes to concern as Miguel emerges from his bedroom with a look of pure irritation on his face. Peter leans against the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal in one hand. “Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning.”

“Did you know someone put my car up on craigslist?”

“What?”

“My car.” Miguel emphasizes, his tone growing thick with impatience. “Why the fuck is it up for sale?”

Peter frowns. “I don’t– I don’t understand, what are you talking about?”

Miguel sighs, unlocking his phone to show Peter a screenshot that Gabriel had sent.  “Look.”

“And that wasn’t you?”

Miguel curses. “Of course it wasn’t me! Why would I sell my car for 69 bucks?”

It takes everything in Peter not to let out a laugh. “Well, it wasn’t me.” He attempts to defend himself with a mouthful of cereal. “ Miguel , I swear I had nothing to do with it–”

“I know.” He cuts off, waving a hand to dismiss him. “You’re too idiotic to do something like this.” Miguel squints, inspecting the ad; there’s even a fake email with his name attached to it. “I just– I don’t know anyone who would do something like this.”

 “Anyone you can think of? Maybe anyone you pissed off lately?”

Miguel shakes his head, glancing down at the ad again. Other than Peter there’s no other person who comes to mind. Just when Miguel was about to suggest reporting it to authorities, Peter speaks up.

“ Oh , maybe it was your friend.”

“What friend?”

“The one who works at the cafe.”

Miguel holds back a scoff at the thought. You , his friend? He barely even considers you an acquaintance. 

“She’s definitely not my friend. Never was and never will be.”

 Miguel gives Peter a clear look implying that he should elaborate nonetheless. Peter swallows, taking another bite of his breakfast before speaking. His words are muffled by his chewing – a pet peeve of Miguel’s – but he can just about make them out.

“She told me that she was friends with you but she needed a favor from me. And then, she told me that you were picking her up somewhere but she didn’t know what your car looked like and she didn’t have your number so, moi,” he pointed at himself with his spoon, “being a very good friend gave her your number and got a picture of your car for her on your behalf. I think she’s in your genetics class or something, right? But I did that because she said she wouldn’t be able to see you for the rest of the week and then she saw me at work and found out that I was your roommate which is why she asked me in the first place. Anyways, because I helped her out I finally got MJ’s number which was what I was meant to tell you yesterday but you were in a mood and—”

What?

At this point Miguel blocks out Peter as he rambles on, trying to comprehend his side of the story.

It was you. Of course it fucking was. He should hardly be surprised. 

Miguel storms away without another word, his face struck with anger.

“Hey, where are you–”

The door slams before Peter can even finish his sentence.

“And I didn’t even get to tell you the best part.”

/

Okay…so maybe he wasn’t too serious about reporting you to the police. But could you really blame him? 

His week was already heading for the shits when deadlines after deadlines began to be set. Not to mention the stress of lab work with two incompetent idiots who refuse to do anything, resulting in Miguel doing it all himself. Then the incessant texts from Gabriel begging him to talk to mamá, which only dug up memories of Miguel’s last unforgettable conversation with her which therefore reminded him of the upcoming anniversary . 

And then there was you .

You were the sickeningly sweet cherry on top of the dog pile of shit; causing an inconvenience to his life which only seemed to be full of inconveniences. 

At this point Miguel’s beginning to think that going to college was more of a curse than it was a blessing; perhaps bad karma for his behavior before he left home.

Either way, you were his last straw.

For the remainder of the day, a sullen expression was glued to Miguel’s face. Those around him actively avoided him, walking around him as if he were some sort of minefield; tiptoeing to avoid accidentally setting him off.

It wouldn’t be the first time. From a child through to his early adolescence he was used to being alone. Sitting in a corner by himself with nothing but a ‘simple introduction to all things science for teens’ textbook to keep him company . Throughout his childhood, his withdrawn demeanor caused him to stand out from the others, constantly being told by teachers to ‘smile more.’

But back then there was nothing to smile about.

It wasn’t until Jess approached him that afternoon that he actually considered letting off steam. He was surprised at first that she was coming to him, only noticing her a few times in his cells and molecular seminars.

“Wanna come out for drinks with us tonight?”

He hesitates at her question, his mouth slightly ajar; dumbfounded that she was addressing him directly.

 “You look like you need it.” She adds on.

He’s caught in a moment of insecurity, almost surprised that his social life is taking off. In that same moment he remembers the words of his seventh grade teacher echoing in his mind: ‘How are you going to make friends, Miguel, if you keep pushing them away? Give it a chance.’

And so he did. Ending up in a club a few blocks away from campus with shitty music and too many college students. The stench of sweat causes his nose to scrunch up as he squeezes past a sea of bodies just to make it to the bar.

Did he regret coming here tonight? Maybe. But it was better than staying cooped up in his room all night doing a piece of lab work that his classmates should have done.

Miguel waits his turn at the bar, eyes scanning the club as he does so. Strobe disco lights bounce across the walls, changing color in beat with the pounding music. If he stares for too long his eyes begin to hurt so instead he squints, still studying the room as he tries to remember the orders he was given. His lips move a little, mumbling to himself. “One gin and tonic, margarita and— 

His sentence cuts short, body freezing at the recognition of you. He didn’t notice you at first, the lighting of the club being too dim to make out anyone’s face. It was only as you turned towards the bar, standing directly across from him, that he noticed you.

He watches you from afar as you wave the bartender down but then you pause for a split second, sensing a pair of eyes on you and glance back at Miguel.

He feels your sense of panic as you look at him. He too silently curses himself for meeting your eyes. You look away as quickly as you can, the bartender now approaching you. 

As much as he hates to admit, he can’t tear his eyes off you as you lean over the bar– drunkenly he notices– to shout your order to the bartender.

Just at the sight of you, anger grew from the pit of his stomach. After your conversation earlier he had sworn that he wanted nothing to do with you. By now, you’ve probably already removed the ad but that still doesn’t excuse your actions. 

Despite his rage, Miguel just can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you; he watches as you pull back from the bar, stumbling a little. He can sense you actively avoiding his eye contact; just one look at him and your face cringes with embarrassment. 

He can’t remember what sparked his body to move closer to you. Maybe it was some left over resentment or pure concern at the sight of watching you drunkenly attempt to look as sober as possible. Even reflecting back, he’s still not sure what made him gravitate towards you. Maybe curiosity? Maybe boredom?

 or maybe he just wanted one last petty dig at his nemesis.

For a guy of his stature, it’s easy enough to push past the sea of people in his way who immediately make room. Just a few meters away from you, he sees the bartender pass over the two shots you had ordered.

 Miguel frowns. “Don’t you think you should slow down a little?”

You’re clearly caught off guard, nearly spilling shots in surprise as you turn your head to see him. 

Miguel’s brown eyes take you in, pouring over your outfit; a tight dress that suits your skin tone; it’s a little short but he can tell you’re playful with it, accentuating your curves and tits but his eyes move away quickly. For a second, he’s grateful about the club’s dark lightning as you miss the way that his face heats up.

“And don’t you think you should mind your business?” Your pronunciation sounds heavy, no doubt due to the alcohol, yet Miguel can’t miss the lethal tone as you speak. “How long have you been watching me?”

He’s caught off guard, stammering quietly but you don’t notice due to the music in the background.

“I wasn’t watching.” Is all that he could come out with.

You scoff a little. “Right.” You say sarcastically before taking the shots; one right after the other. Miguel raises a brow as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, wincing a little at the taste. “And I’m totally not trying to get black-out drunk.”

“Any reason why you’re doing so?”

You snort after his question, holding back a laugh. “Why are you even talking to me? Shouldn’t you be busy calling the police on me?” 

You fiddle with the empty shot glasses in your hands and Miguel senses your ever-growing frustration as you glare. He hesitates, unsure of his reasons for both questions. You turn around once you sense he has nothing more to say.

 “I’m going to get another shot so if you don’t mind please leave me alone.”

“Don’t you have a shift tomorrow?”

The words leave his mouth before he can even think. No , he doesn’t have your schedule memorized. He’s just noticed that whenever he has a genetics lecture at 9am, you’re usually on shift that day too. Miguel notices your face fall at the realization, your confidence soon draining out of you.

You shrug halfheartedly. “So what?”

“You need to go home.”

“And you need to leave me alone.”

Miguel stops himself from scoffing. You look like you can barely stand, trying to lean back on the bar for support. He repeats his words again, his voice a little more stern as a crease appears between his brows. “And you need to go home.”

“I said—”

The rest of your sentence was interrupted by your phone buzzing, but it doesn’t take a genius to guess what you were going to say. Closely, he watches your expression turn from frustration to a sense of dismay, eyes glued to your phone. You begin to chew on your lower lip with Miguel silently observing your dejection, managing to lip read the words that slip quietly from your tongue.

Someone’s not coming back?

At this he takes his chance. 

“I’ll take you home.”

Miguel’s words abruptly bring you back to reality and you snap your head back up at him in surprise as if he’s just grown two heads. You let a small pause pass through before coming up with an answer.

“Uhmmmm, no.”

“Why–”

“Because.”

 “That’s not a reason, nena , you can barely stand.”

“Because I hate you and I want nothing to do with you.”

The second your venomous words leave your mouth, he’s taken aback, eyes widening a little. It takes him a second to reconcile his thoughts. The words leave Miguel’s dry throat in an empty tone.

“You’re drunk.” 

“Drunk enough to know that I still fucking hate you.”

The second time that that word leaves your tongue, a chill runs through his spine; and as if you’ve set off a trigger, faded and blurry memories suddenly begin to resurface through his mind.

There’s a voice in his mind from his distant childhood, where the words “I hate you” were constantly thrown at him in another language. That same voice conditioning him to think that all he caused was screaming and shouting throughout the house.

You don’t hear Miguel repeat his words a little quieter. “You’re drunk.” 

You don’t mean it, he thinks. Internally, he tells himself a little more sharply. You don’t mean it. Of course you don’t. You don’t even know his past. It’s not the same. You’re just drunk.

“I should be the one hating you. You tried to sell my car.” As soon as that reminder slips from his lips, Miguel knows he’s accidentally set off a trigger. 

Your expression turns to rage, pointing at his chest furiously. “Because you were a fucking asshole to me and wrote a fucking mean ass review about me!”

Miguel quickly notices multiple eyes suddenly looking in his direction. Fuck , he does not want to be attracting too much attention right now. 

He lowers his tone a little, drawing in closer to you so that you’re the only person who can hear his words. “You did all this because I was rude to you?” Por favor, dame fuerza. ” He lets the ‘r’ roll off his tongue, fingers grabbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

He needed to get out here. He can’t do this. He can’t fucking stand you and your nonsensical behavior. Miguel’s chest begins to rise and fall a little more heavily; he was beginning to get overwhelmed. Your loss of temper, your words and the resurfacing memories were all getting a bit too much for him. A migraine was beginning to catch on with the pounding music only seeming to grow louder with every song.

“So when your boss criticizes your work, you’re just gonna go out and break the law for some petty revenge?”

“You’re not my boss, that’s the difference.”

“And if I was, I’d fire you in a heartbeat.” He snaps, locking eyes with you. For a moment, it seems like everything stops. The noises, the people, the flashing lights all fade into one hazy background as the two of you stare at each other with mutual hate and anger. A whole ten seconds seem to pass by before you succumb to his gaze and glance away.

You don’t understand him and he doesn’t understand you. He doubts he ever will. 

“I hate you.” You mutter. 

“Ditto here, nena .”

The little nickname has caught onto him. It’s become a habit that he can’t shake off. He says it more out of spite rather than a term of endearment. Miguel remembers when he called you ‘nena’ for the very first time. He noticed how your nose scrunched up and how you tried to ignore it, unsure of the exact meaning of the word yet you didn’t miss the sense of ridicule in his voice each and every time he said it. 

“I’m going.” you announce, turning away from him and camouflaging into the crowd. Miguel grits his teeth out of frustration as you disappear. Although, with his height he can just about make out your figure. It’s not until he sees you snap back at a stranger and spill his drink that he rolls his eyes.

Here you go again. You can barely go two minutes without causing a  problem. 

From just a few meters away, Miguel can see your expression change from annoyance to fear as the stranger begins to shout in your face, edging closer to you. Squinting, Miguel notices your wrist being held by the man and without thinking, he steps in.

“Maybe you should keep your hands to yourself then, compa .”

He scans the man up and down. The figure sways back and forth, an ugly drunk expression written all over his face. Ah, he’s one of those guys. The ones who get riled up over jack shit and want their egos validated by taking it out on others. 

Miguel turns his back on the figure, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Quick, before he gets angry. I think this asshole’s drunk.”

A mumble leaves your mouth as you turn to leave. 

“I’m taking you back to your dorm room. No ifs or buts.” The two of you easily weave in and out of the crowd, thanks to Miguel’s height.

Soon spotting Jess, he leads you over to her table.

Jess opens her mouth to scold Miguel for taking so long with the drinks before realizing that he hasn’t got any in his hands. Instead, a hand is latched to your arm as you stumble drunkenly next to him.

“Jess, I’m going to take her home.”

“Whoa, whoa.”

“Ay, por dios– not my home. I’m taking her back to her dorm room, she’s someone I know and her drunk ass is going to pass out at any second.” Miguel scrunches up his nose in disgust. 

God , no . It would never be like that. You’d have to be the last person on earth to even think about that. No, not even the last person. He’s confident in his decision to let humanity go extinct rather than…that. Despite his dislike for you as a person  right now, there was a part of him that was enough of a decent human being to make sure that you got home safe.

Of course, that was the least he could do. 

/

“I hate you Miguel O’hara.”

“Uh-huh, you keep telling me that.”

He’s learned to face your words a little more assertively than before but they still dig into his skin a little, despite him telling himself that you’re not in the right state of mind. 

You’re mostly using Miguel for balance as the two of you walk across campus to get to your dorm. Your heels echo off the walls of closed campus buildings, the  late October chill running through Miguel’s body. But despite this, he’s still rather warm. Whether it comes from his pent up anger from earlier or because his body hasn’t adjusted to the chill of the night just yet, he’s unsure.

“Just making sure that you won’t forget.” you say, a cloud of warm air leaving your mouth and dissipating into the late night.

“I sure won’t.”

“You ruined my life.”

“You did it to yourself, nena .”

His words are harsh but true; Miguel doesn’t fully realize the extent of his words after a long pause between the two of you. 

“I did, didn't I?”

“Oh, please don’t start crying again–”

It had taken Miguel a full fifteen minutes to get you to stop crying earlier after your near clash with the stranger.

“Who’s gonna buy him a drink? Oh my god, he’s gonna find out where I live and–.”

“He doesn’t even know who you are, you’ll live.”

Unfortunately Miguel’s words die on deaf ears as you begin to break down. He sighs, letting go of your hand as you cry for the second time tonight.

“I’m such a bad person, I-I-I ruined my life by trying to sell your car and I nearly got fired at my first ever job and I lied to my mom…” You pause, reflecting on your words. “I lied to my mom.”

Miguel shrugs. It’s not the worst thing in the world, compared to his relationship with his own mother, it seems pretty insignificant. 

“We all have, haven’t we?” His words have a slight tone of regret, the memory of his harsh conversation with his mother arising again.

“I lied to my mom about having a boyfriend!” you exclaim. “And-and-and I’m a terrible daughter and I deserve death! and– and—”

Miguel’s eyes widen at your words, he doesn’t hesitate in scolding you for your language. “ Hey , hey , don’t say that about yourself.”

He’s not really sure about what you’re talking about and he’s not going to ask, but the last thing he wants to deal with tonight is a drunk and self-destructive college student. 

 Maybe he should’ve stayed at home and done the lab work.

“But I lied and now she– she’s expecting me to bring someone over for thanksgiving and I don’t have anyone because I’m a liar and a criminal and I’m going to prison!” You kneel down against the pavement, an endless stream of tears running down your face.

Awkwardly, Miguel watches you break down. For a second, he panics, scanning around for any person nearby to help him. He’s not really the right person to be helping you with…this. A street light flickers nearby, the only sound on campus is you sobbing and the faint sound of a siren across the city.

Miguel doesn’t even know why you’re being so dramatic but he blames it on the alcohol. So you lied about having a boyfriend?  So what? If anything, he’s done much worse. But he’s not even going to ask. He doesn’t want to be involved with your shit. Whatever problems you have, he does not want to be a part of it. 

But he does want to get you out of here as soon as possible before anyone comes across him standing awkwardly next to a girl sobbing in the streets.

He crouches down, trying to meet your eyes.  “C’mon, let’s get you to bed and you can sleep and forget that this never happened.”

You lift up your head, tears dripping from your chin. “No. I- I won’t forget, I’ll just remember it all over again and– and –”

“Hey, look at me.” Your eyes meet his and he makes sure that his tone is more mellow than before. “I promise you’ll go to sleep and forget all about this okay? I promise.”

“Do you pinky promise?” You hold out your pinky in front of him. 

“I pinky-promise.” He sighs.

You shake your head, pouting. “No, you have to link with me.”

Internally, he curses; rolling his eyes before finally joining your pinky with his.

Slowly but surely he manages to get you to stand up again, leading you to your accommodation block. You’ve now gone silent, only letting out a few hiccups here and there. Miguel asks if you’re alright and you let out a nod. Soon enough, you make it to your apartment building and he  carefully helps you up the flight of stairs; a hand gripping onto his large bicep for support. He says nothing about it, now letting you lead the way to your dorm room.

The two of you stand awkwardly outside your door, silence infiltrating the entire corridor as neither of you know what to say. Miguel soon decides to break the silence.

“You think you’ll be okay?” His voice is still soft.

 A small part of him wants to ask more about your…dilemma . But he soon reminds himself that it’s none of his business, that he shouldn’t even care. He just wants to get you home and leave you alone. Hopefully, never having to speak to you again after tonight.

You don’t let out a reply and instead ignore him, heading inside without so much as a last glance back to him. The door slams shut in his face, echoing loudly down the soulless corridor. A faint thump of music and muffled conversation are heard from the dorm rooms on the floor above.

Miguel’s mouth is slightly agape, his chance to recommend water or aspirin is now lost.His mouth closes slowly and he exhales through his nostrils. Letting out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, shoulders dropping. 

Pulling out his phone, eyes search for the name ‘Lyla’ . He sends a text to make sure that you get the support that you need tomorrow morning. Sure, you’re not his favorite person in the world right now, but he knows what regret feels like in the form of a pounding headache.

Miguel moves to lean next to the wall beside your door, tilting his head back as he closes his eyes. He’s beginning to feel a migraine come on. Ever so softly he can hear little shuffles behind your door, no doubt you trying to drunkenly make it to your room. 

This night had to be one of his worst nights in college so far and it’s not even the end of October yet. 

He hates you, he thinks. You irritate him with the way that you talk and the way that you somehow attempted to sell his fucking car. You irritate him in a way that he can’t stand, making him swear that he wants nothing more to do with you. In fact that’s what he told himself today, after your conversation at the cafe. Tonight was just an anomaly. A situation of him doing the bare minimum so that you’d end up without regret tomorrow morning. 

Only now, does he finally get a chance to respond to the multiple remarks you’ve spat at him the entire night.

“I fucking hate you, too.” he mumbles, the words barely audible from his lips.

reblogs are much appreciated, thank you for reading!! lmk if you would like to join the taglist!

[saerins]

PREV: #003 THE FIRST RIPPLE 𖧧 #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? 𖧧 NEXT: #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — there’s a lot you don’t understand about what’s going on with sae, but he can say the same about you. question is, once you both find out more about each other, will your growing feelings stay the same?

content: itoshi sae x female reader. fluff/angst. profanity, alcohol, reader is fairly straightforward here, pining, jealousy, misunderstandings. word count: 5.8k

༝༚༝༚ slightly shorter chapter this week ^_^ hehe we’re getting closer to the messier/exciting parts so bear with me heh :) mwah ily guys <3

you’re starting to learn that maybe you can’t get your hopes up with itoshi sae.

a week later, you don’t hear anything from him. you both haven’t spoken since that night he took you out. not that you’re entirely too bothered—it’s a first for you, trying to get to know someone as in-demand as sae. (you don’t count eita because you’ve known him since before the fame.)

it doesn’t help that you don’t really have anyone to talk to about this. you promised sae that you wouldn’t spill, and you’re keeping that promise. somehow, it makes you feel a little warm inside; thinking that there is some sort of intimacy you share with sae that only the two of you know.

besides, even if you could talk to eita about it, you don’t want to. 

is it too quick for you to think you might fall for him?

falling for someone isn’t really in your life plans yet, especially after your last and only tumultuous relationship, but maybe itoshi sae is different. he sure seems like it.

the next week rolls around, and you still hear nothing from him. which is fine with you; you’ve resigned yourself to thinking what’s yours will be yours and not to force anything… even if you spend most of your idle time wondering if sae is ever going to post anything on his private account. did he really just create it solely because you asked him to?

you can see that he logs in to it, judging by his icon on that little viewer list in your stories. but that’s the extent to which you see him online. he doesn’t reply, or do anything much. considering his normal account is probably mainly run by his team, you guess you shouldn’t expect too much from him.

still, maybe it’s a little pathetic of you to be wearing his cap so frequently. it’s sort of become a staple piece for you, somehow. to be fair, there’s hardly any dress code in place for you to follow and considering the bulk of your workwear is mostly casual, it fits right into your style. although, after sumi pointed out one day that it’s a luxury brand and that it costs more than you would personally ever spend on a cap (even if you had the means to), you try to wear it less often. (though that seems like a waste considering it was given to you.)

“you know, you gave the boss a really good scoop, enough to last for a few months,” sumi points out during lunch, taking a lick of her vanilla ice cream as the both of you sit out on the roof, escaping the cramped office. “so why do you look so stressed?”

honestly, you didn’t even realise you did. you thought you were being normal, but it has been a while since you had a normal crush on someone, and since itoshi sae is certainly not just a normal somebody, maybe you had been acting a little off, always waiting for a text, a call even, something.

“nothing, i just haven’t been able to get a good sleep lately,” you lie, hoping that sumi won’t pry.

she doesn’t.

“hm, it’s friday today,” she hums, pondering. “maybe you should find a few of your friends, get out, let loose, you know?”

later at your desk, the clock almost striking 5pm, you think maybe you should. because as much as you love your chill friday nights alone (mainly because your mom is barely home on the weekends), you don’t think it’ll do you much good if you keep mulling over the same old thing.

but just as you’re about to go pester eita again, he gets to you first, his timing impeccable today.

there’s an aching disappointment in your chest when you realise sae isn’t going to be there. maybe it’s just the glaring difference between the life of a celebrity versus someone normal like you. his schedule must usually be packed to the brim after all.

whatever, you’ll let him come back to you on his own time. for now, all you want to do for the weekend is to spend it having fun with the guys and settling everything you need to on saturday and spend sunday to yourself.

this possible thing between you and sae, whatever it could be, can wait. you’re not in any rush. at least, that’s what your head tells you.

your heart feels something different.

it’s only the second time you’re actually hanging out with eita’s friends, but you’re not regretting it one bit. even on the day of the event they’d been welcoming to you, and tonight is no exception.

they’re all sat around the wooden table on the balcony, a ton of beer cans and liquor bottles littered across the table. you sit on the long end, on the long chair, right beside eita, sides of your bodies always pressed close together that it makes a glint form in oliver’s eyes.

he’s still curious, not out of concern but just because, about you and eita and sae and how everything is going to tie together. it’s not everyday he sees eita being okay with a girl that close to him and not complain that she’s a bother. it’s also not everyday that sae creates a private account. oliver got bored and saw one day that you were the first person he followed.

you must really be something.

“where even is sae today?” you hear sendou ask, a hiccup following suit. “i finally come over and he’s not even here.”

he’s sitting on your other side, his profile strangely reminding you of the very guy he’s asking about. maybe it’s the way his hair is a lighter shade of pink, maybe even his sharp jawline. his eyes are different though, more expressive, and universally soft somehow.

you remember how sae’s can look soft, his teal eyes turning gentle whenever you try to approach him. but it wasn’t that way when you first met him, that’s a given.

“i don’t know, said he was too tired,” oliver sighs, stretching in his seat.

“wasn’t he just with bianca yesterday?” yukimiya asks, oblivious to oliver’s glee.

it kind of stings, but you stay quiet, the alcohol slowly seeping into your system. you can feel eita leaning against you a little bit more, and his presence has always been comforting, so you let him.

sendou hums, index finger tapping against his near-empty beer can. “is that still going on? how long has their relationship status been a mystery already?”

karasu snorts, nudging sendou on the elbow. “salty just ‘cause you tried to ask her out and she rejected you?”

as you sit quietly and observe, it seems that sendou was once at an event with her too—apparently, he had asked her for her number and she didn’t even want to give it to him. and then a month later she “met sae and was all over him”, according to karasu.

with the exception of eita, who sits quietly beside you, they start a debate on whether or not sae’s finally starting to see bianca in a different light. or, as sendou points out, “maybe they’ve been a thing all along and just hid it really well from everyone.” it’s not exactly something you want to listen to, even if you are the most curious you’ve ever been about a guy, so you block it out from your ears. 

but oliver leans forward, resting his chin on the liquor bottle in front of him, staring straight at you. you’ve never really noticed it but his eyes are really beautiful, the different shades of green and purple making him seem ethereal just like that. 

“you’re a girl, y/n, what do you think?” he asks you, a lazy drawl in his tone.

mirroring his actions, you bat your eyelashes at him, looking innocent as ever when you answer him. “i think you guys should stop talking about that her behind her back like that,” you say, earning a raise of oliver’s brows in return. he’s surprised, to say the least, but not in a bad way.

it’s not even that you don’t want to hear about her. you’re wantonly curious, especially since you’re beginning to realise your small hint of emotions towards sae, but something tells you that these guys wouldn’t be too kind with their words if you egg them on.

karasu gives you a nod of approval that you miss before he leans back in the chair, whispering to yukimiya, “at least we all know shidou won’t totally hate y/n.” but it’s too soft for you to hear, and you probably won’t even be able to make sense of it even if you did, not with the gradually increasing level of alcohol in your system.

between intentionally drinking to not be a pathetic mess who keeps thinking about her potential love life and having to drink because you’re usually good at drinking games but not when oliver is around with the way he keeps beating you at everything, you happen not to notice a lot of things.

at one point, oliver has replaced sendou next to you, whispering snarky comments in your ear in between games. he’s not the flirting kind, at least not to you, and he doesn’t push your boundaries physically either—he’s more akin to a friend you’d love to gossip with. that’s why you don’t even think much when he tilts his camera towards you, taking a selfie with both you and eita in it.

just a normal picture of friends hanging out, oliver leaning against your legs, propped up on the chair, your own head leaning into the crook of eita’s neck, all of you evidently tipsy from the dazed look in your eyes.

what neither of you notice is oliver’s smirk as he posts the picture onto his private, betting on his target audience of one to see it.

and now, he’ll just have to wait.

one hour later, the doorbell rings and yukimiya’s eyes glance over to eita, comfortable with an arm around you, and he takes it as his cue to open the door. eita’s probably too reluctant to move and he’ll let whoever it is at the door keep at it for hours before he’ll answer the poor guy.

he’s expecting some random food delivery, maybe from karasu because he’s been whining about wanting some chicken with his beer, or maybe even shidou showing up at the last minute from his other party. but this? the person he’s staring at in the eyes right now, is the last person he expected to see tonight. 

“wait, i thought you weren’t coming?” yukimiya asks, but oliver’s already shouting from the balcony.

“hey, sae, what the fuck are you doing here?” he asks from the balcony, taking a swig of his beer.

beside him, you hear sae’s name and your head immediately whips around to look at the door. there he is, looking tired as ever but he’s there, in the flesh, dressed in all black, jacket and sweats, teal eyes finding you from all the way across the house.

sae wordlessly walks past yukimiya, the latter following behind him, still shocked that he’s even present. sure looks like sae always means it when he says he wouldn’t come to gatherings like these.

when he gets to the balcony, earning a cock of oliver’s brow, sae tilts his head, “i was invited, wasn’t i? what’s so surprising about that?”

oliver snickers at sae’s blatant avoidance of the question. deciding he wouldn’t get anything out of him anyway, he shrugs and accepts it. besides, he can already see that sae’s too busy trying to calculate if there’s enough space for him to sit beside you, with the way his eyes are scanning your surroundings. maybe it doesn’t help how eita’s so clingy with you, his arm still around you even when you’ve already straightened up.

both sae and eita are just staring blankly at each other, and everyone is aware of it except for you, because your head’s a little dizzy and you’re still thinking whether sae popping up here is a figment of your imagination.

you’re not that drunk, are you?

you get your answer when a shadow looms over your body, the familiar scent of his cologne wafting into your nose. he smells the same he did that night you kissed him.

“what, this seat taken?” sae asks, and you dumbly look down at the small edge of space beside you.

no, it’s not, but you’re probably going to have to squeeze between him and eita if he sits there, no more legroom. you shift anyway, eita making space (albeit reluctantly), the way sae ends up being so close to you enough to send your mind into overdrive. you’re still wondering why he showed up.

you, and everyone else. not oliver though. he knows why. and it’s not like he wants to intentionally make you cough out your feelings but it looks like the other guys who are oblivious to your feelings are steering in that direction. 

“no bianca today?” karasu asks, a mocking tone in his voice.

sae doesn’t show an ounce of emotion, though. “wasn’t with her.”

“why not? scared we’re gonna make you two make out again like last time?” yukimiya asks, finally relaxing back in his seat. he says it jokingly, although you know the sentence at hand probably isn’t a joke.

“wait wait wait, you two made out?” sendou asks, incredulous, mirroring your exact thoughts. 

a jealousy creeps up your spine, engulfing your alcohol-riddled distractions. some part of you wants to know what it’d be like to be kissed by him. you purse your lips into a firm line, wondering if you were being an accidental homewrecker by kissing him that night.

“it was just a game,” sae responds, making no moves to drink the beer handed to him.

eita pulls his arms away, moving in favour of getting you a drink. it’s not that he even knows anything that’s going on between you and sae, but he can tell by how you’re stiffening up that you’re probably a little affected. he slides a shot over to you, and you down it with ease.

ignoring the way the other guys keep harping on the topic, sae turns his attention to you, flicking the tip of the cap he gave you, and you shift your gaze to look up at him, the small smirk he gives you when you do making your heart flutter again.

why is it so easy for him to do that to you?

“haven’t sold my cap yet?”

you thank the heavens you’re not too tipsy to be normal. “i’m holding out for higher bids, actually,” you quip, grinning. “you can offer one too if you want it back.”

sae hums, head tilted again as he ponders while staring at you. slowly, he leans down to your ear, whispering so only you can hear him, “how much do i have to bid for you to keep it?”

maybe it’s the liquor, but you feel your cheeks heat up. it can’t be his close proximity. it can’t be the way he’s so close that you can see the beating pulse on his neck. it can’t be the way you think you look more intimate here than you should. definitely can’t be the way all the guys have noticed and are giving each other looks.

why does he even want you to keep it? is this some sort of abstract way that he’s using to tell you that you’re not an accidental homewrecker?

you make a mental reminder to yourself to never get drunk in front of sae. you don’t want to end up blurting out some less-than-decent thoughts of yours.

“what’s wrong? too tipsy now to talk back?” sae asks, and you can only pout at him, not in your usual condition to think of smart comebacks. it makes the corner of his lips tug upwards just a little bit more than usual, his hand coming up to teasingly push the cap down further—in that seemingly affectionate way he does.

and maybe it isn’t such a good idea to agree to continue to play games, not when you got roped into never have i ever and karasu, to the delight of oliver, said he has never fucked anyone at this table. seeing that only you and eita put a finger down, everyone can tell there’s probably a complicated history between you and eita. not that you owe them any explanation, though you kind of do feel the urge to tell sae that it was in the past.

you steal a glance at him beside you, the mild look of surprise befallen on his handsome face. you wonder if he thinks badly of you now. you wonder if he’ll think badly of you when he sees what your life is really like. will he think you’re just going to be a stain on his fancy life that it’ll be better off not knowing you?

or maybe… maybe he has a complicated past too. with bianca.

funnily enough, eita loses after yukimiya says he’s never had sex with more than five girls. the disappointing part is you didn’t really get to know anything interesting about sae.

“hey, you feeling okay? you can stop playing if you wanna,” sae tells you later on, after god knows how many minutes have passed and you’re already onto the next game. you don’t even know why you agreed to play two truths one dare in the first place when you know it’ll just be a shitshow for you. 

over the course of x minutes, you’d managed to learn many things, some of which being that karasu and eita had shared a girl in bed, that yukimiya dared to do a body shot on oliver, that sae would consider bianca an important person to him, and that you really can’t make up your mind to go big or go home because oliver had just dared you to spend seven minutes in heaven with anyone of your choosing.

of course, you can safely choose eita and trust him not to do anything if you told him to. but on the flip side, you can choose who you really want. even if you’re not so sure he’d want to anymore.

“you can always choose me,” oliver jokes, lifting the mood. although the smirk on his face makes you question it. “i’ll definitely show you a good time.”

while you’re having an internal dilemma, karasu and sendou are in the background teasing oliver for being fake, saying that he shouldn’t be offering that if he’s already interested in miss manager.

but you snap out of it when the irritated sigh you hear out of sae somehow feels like the world is sending you a sign. in some way. you’re not sure if you’re reaching—is he bothered by oliver’s comments? and why does oliver look so smug all of a sudden?

you’re beginning to regret not being sober, you can’t figure this shit out. but what you do figure out is what you want to do. why think so much about tomorrow when the present is right here?

so you don’t pay it any more thoughts, getting up and dragging sae with you by the shirt, ignoring all the commotion left behind by the guys, save for eita who only stares blankly at you as you drag sae into his own room and lock the door.

“oh shit, sorry dude, didn’t mean to—”

“for the last time, just friends,” otoya snaps, cutting karasu off, although not even sendou believes him. for someone who doesn’t even care to treat people nicely, sendou can at least see that eita treats you a fair bit better than anyone else.

in the room, sae can only watch blankly as you stumble over your feet before finally settling on the edge of otoya’s bed. the envious, green side of him can’t help but wonder how many times you’d been here, in his room, with him. though it’s kind of amusing how you chose to bring sae in here now.

from what sae can tell, you’re probably a little more tipsy than you should be in these types of situation, and a part of him is relieved that you’re not here with anyone else. if you were here with otoya, would you be fooling around by now?

“so, thought you were too tired to show up—what happened?” you ask from where you are on the bed, body swaying slightly, eyes threatening to close.

the moment he takes a seat next to you, you lean close, your head coming to rest on his shoulder, and sae has no doubt that you’d already drank a lot before he came. proximity this close, he can smell the shampoo in your hair, can feel how soft it is.

“i couldn’t sleep, got bored, that’s all.”

your shoulders vibrate slightly as you giggle, pulling away, a suspicious glint in your eyes. “damn, and here i thought you came for me.”

even when you’re intoxicated you still have such a smart mouth. sae shrugs, his gaze turning ever so soft, like every time before when he looks at you. there’s something about you that he can’t quite place, something that makes him act so differently than he usually does, and for once he doesn’t hate it. “did you want me to?”

not taking the bait, you keep up your casual demeanour, even if your eyelids feel heavy and you’re about five seconds away from just passing right out on the bed.

“you know, it’s fine to say you missed me and wanted to see me,” you tell him, grin wide as ever, almost infectious. you’re only surviving on liquid courage right now, the way you unashamedly try to flirt. though, if sae isn’t moving away, does that mean he doesn’t mind?

he looks off to the side, pondering for a while before turning back to you with a straight face, “i missed you, wanted to see you.”

for a moment, you feel like your heart might stop.

“is that what you wanna hear?”

almost instinctively, you grab the stray pillow lying on the bed and fling it at sae, earning an amused laugh from him but you barely realise it, too caught up in the frustration that his words were just strung together to entertain you as opposed to his actual feelings.

crossing your arms, you look away, the exhaustion of the day coupled with the dread of tomorrow nipping away at your consciousness. “don’t patronise me, itoshi sae,” you huff, and you miss the way he looks at you with a smile on his face.

will you remember any of this tomorrow? you’re not drunk, but you’re not exactly thinking straight either.

“were you… very busy this past week?”

your question is voiced so softly, almost like you’re afraid to ask, and sae realises maybe he should’ve at least told you he wouldn’t be able to make it as early as he thought he would.

“yeah, i was.”

technically, he isn’t lying. he was back in japan last saturday, but maybe he had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to do anything else.

“with bianca?”

it’s even softer this time, and for some reason, sae’s almost kind of relieved you’re asking. he just doesn’t know what it is.

“no, not really,” he tells you. it’s complicated, and you don’t even have context; he wouldn’t even know where to begin talking to you about it.

you put your legs up on the bed, hiding your face between your knees, and sae’s left wondering whether alcohol really makes that much of a difference. you seem bold, shy and teasing all at once. his hat is still on your head, your thoughts coming out into the open.

“are you… involved with her?” your voice is muffled, but he hears you loud and clear.

a small smile dawns onto his face, safe from your view. he doesn’t really know the implications of you asking the question, but he likes how you don’t beat around the bush. it’s nice not having to constantly guess what you really mean.

and maybe it’s you rubbing off on him, but he doesn’t answer it straight.

“curious, y/n?”

when you lift your head up to look at him, you see the widest smile he’s ever given you, objectively much smaller and way more subtle than everyone else, but it’s a smile all the same and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest.

“yes,” you answer honestly, because you’re not sure when exactly you’re going to pass out but you have a feeling it’ll be soon and eita’s bed is just so soft.

sae is only mildly stunned by how straightforward you are, so he decides to do you a favour. he doesn’t usually like divulging things like this; topics that bring gossip and are undoubtedly going to come back to him if it gets out. what’s more, you work for a sports magazine so you can totally use this against him, but it isn’t even that you’re intoxicated right now, but more so that he feels he can trust you with it.

slowly, he reaches his hand over, and for once he tips the cap upwards a little so he can see your eyes when he tells you, “stupid, i’m not involved with anyone.” is that clear enough for you? he’s not sure why but he hopes it is.

what does he even want with you?

the moment you hear it, you break out into a wide smile, genuine and actually infectious this time because sae feels the corners of his lips threatening to pull upwards even more. what the heck is this feeling?

“really? i’m so relieved,” you exhale, voice a little airy, looking a little too pretty that sae immediately pulls the cap back downwards. “so,” you move on, adjusting it back in position, daring to move closer to him, face so close to his own that he has nowhere else to look except straight into your eyes. “we have four minutes left. will you grant me whatever i want, itoshi sae?”

you have a habit of calling him by his full name. he makes a mental reminder to get you to change that. not tonight though, he doesn’t want you to forget.

it’s weird how he feels around you; why does he feel so overwhelmed yet want more both at the same time? he swallows the lump in his throat, keeping his composure, “depends, you’re pretty demanding, tell me first and i’ll consider.”

“itoshi sae, i’m not!” you refute, punching him playfully on the arm and he has to hold your arm to stop you from falling off the bed. “i don’t know. the guys outside are probably expecting us to fuck or something.”

there you go, unfiltered and he kind of likes it. his fingers are still around your wrist.

but the answer is crystal clear to him.

“no.”

“huh?” it takes you a while to process. given that the only thoughts in your head as of right now are only: what does sae think of you and eita? and bianca is important to him. “what if it was just a kiss?”

he hums, then shakes his head. “nope.”

“wait, am i not pretty enough for you or something?”

you’re whining and sae finds it cute of all things. you have a tendency to misunderstand, so maybe he needs to adjust how he talks to you. he’ll see. but before he can even say anything else, your head falls into his chest, your regular breathing the only sound that fills the room after. he’s perplexed and amused all at once; how did you manage to fall asleep so quickly?

contrary to your thoughts, sae has always thought you were pretty, ever since the first night he met you. even in your private account where you post yourself in hoodies too big for your body and no makeup, clad in sweats—still pretty.

sae sighs, his fingers stroking your hair now that you’re asleep, and whispering in your ear only when you’re not able to hear him.

“if i do that, i think i’ll end up wanting more.” and you’re drunk and that’s not what he really wants.

but he does give you what you ask for, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

that’ll have to do for now.

“so, nothing happened?” sendou asks, bored, as sae carries you on his back as he comes out of the room.

you’re passed out and drooling on his shoulder and he doesn’t really care about that.

“it’s sae, c’mon, did you expect something?” karasu laughs, all of them coming in from the balcony because in the seven minutes both of you had spent in the room, it managed to start raining. “maybe if it was bianca, y’know, then maybe.”

sae ignores all their passing comments, choosing to walk over to otoya, “hey, she passed out, i’m just gonna take her home.”

as much as sae isn’t particularly fond of otoya, he’s probably your closest friend here and he doesn’t want him to think he’s just going to take advantage of you.

otoya’s green eyes flicker to the clock on the wall before he shakes his head, speaking softly so the others won’t hear. “nah, just put her in the guest bedroom. i’ll send her back in the morning. you can head back first.”

there’s an irritation that builds up inside him, but sae maintains his emotionless expression, remembering that otoya knows you much more than he does. “i could just—”

“she doesn’t want to go home tonight,” otoya cuts in, a warning glare in his eyes. “trust me.”

suddenly, sae remembers the last time he met you, your swollen cheek and the way your eyes were glazed over. and he wants to ask otoya what it’s all about but this is about you, and he really shouldn’t ask someone else.

“fine,” sae concedes. if whatever’s at home makes you miserable, he won’t bring you there. “i’ll put her in there before i go.”

there’s a lot more otoya would like to ask sae, because oliver’s not the only one curious at sae’s seemingly odd behaviour. he wants to know what exactly he thinks about you, but everyone’s still around and it’s not a good time, so he sucks it up and lets it go for tonight.

as sae puts you down on the bed and pulls the blanket over you, he gets a brief flashback of the night he set bianca down in her hotel room. you’re both so similar, and yet not at all.

and when he’s about to turn and go, your fingers reach out to tug at the hem of his jacket sleeve, almost effectively making sae’s heart leap out of his chest. your eyes are still shut, so there’s no chance you’re actually conscious right now. still, your mouth opens.

“stay with me?”

sae stills. do you know it’s him? or do you think he’s otoya? either way, you and bianca really are similar, even when you’re not completely awake. so why… why are his reactions so different?

it’s not like he has anything on tomorrow, so it’s really no imposition.

before he knows it, he’s sitting on the floor, right next to where you sleep on the bed, your fingers enveloped in his palm, his head propped on the mattress, his own exhaustion catching up to him.

it’s been a messy week; trying to gather his thoughts about you every single time he’s free, having to talk to bianca and thinking about that, and then coming back just to see oliver and otoya so close to you that it bothers him a little. finding out about you and otoya takes the cake, though.

how special is otoya to you?

the question lingers unanswered as he drifts to sleep, both of you subconsciously finding comfort in the other’s innocent warmth.

the next morning when you wake up, you’re half shocked half happy to find sae where he is, sleeping there peacefully, the previous night’s exhaustion dissipating from his face.

did he take care of you last night? you can only hope you didn’t puke in front of him. that would be embarrassing.

you’d like to stay, wait for him to wake up and talk to him and make sure you didn’t say or do anything too out of line because your memory’s a little foggy, bits and pieces that you can’t quite piece together or even tell if they’re real or dreams.

but you can’t.

you remember what day it is today and reluctantly get out of bed. though, feeling a little cheeky, you quietly grab a small black marker out of the drawer, suppressing a grin as you scribble on sae’s palms, hoping he won’t wake up from this.

a couple hours later, by the time sae gets up, the bed is cold and still undone. it’s already noon, and somehow the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up is you—are you already home? did otoya send you?

but the question that pops up in the forefront of his mind when he sees otoya lazing around on his couch later on is none of that.

and to be fair, otoya has the very same question in his head.

“do you like her or something? y/n.”

otoya is the one to ask, eyes still glued onto his phone screen, typing something out. sae can’t help but wonder if he’s talking to you. 

“what’s it to you?” sae asks. he can hear the snores of the other guys coming from otoya’s room.

otoya shrugs. “just curious. she’s my best friend after all.”

there’s a certain possessiveness in the way he says it that rubs sae the wrong way. still, sae supposes that if otoya’s your best friend, he shouldn’t be too impulsive with his words.

“maybe i like her,” sae says, the tension in the air getting thicker.

“in what way?” otoya still hasn’t looked up from his phone.

“same way you do.”

“i don’t know what you mean.”

otoya scoffs, both of them acting coy with one another. “bianca and y/n, huh? busy guy,” otoya sighs, tossing his phone aside and getting up, walking towards sae, hands in his pocket. both of them are staring the other down, feeling the situation out. “i think i suit y/n better, you can have bianca.”

now it’s sae’s turn to scoff, sharp eyes piercing through otoya’s own. “why don’t we let y/n decide for herself, huh?” he quips, before grabbing his car keys out of his pocket and leaving through the front door.

as he settles down in his car and turns the engine on, it’s only then that he realises the black marks on his palm. 

thank you ᡣ𐭩

somehow, just one look at it is enough to ease the tension on his shoulders.

you really can do wonders.

extras !

otoya’s hostility towards sae was intentional.

sae didn’t try to wash your writing off—he let it fade away naturally.

if yn was sober, she would’ve not been as straightforward as he was in the room with sae. but she definitely would’ve flustered sae a lot more with her playful personality.

the whole time, oliver was live recounting the events of the night to miss manager, all of which are left on read.

if bianca had been there, sae would have been a lot more cautious about his actions and probably wouldn’t have acted too close to y/n.

random fact #1: otoya plays bass, used to perform in a band back in university. part of how he got so many girls interested in him but he was always with y/n which made a lot of them unhappy.

random fact #2: sae has never really been jealous before so now that he’s feeling it, he’s a lot more sensitive to it than normal people.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi @veecynii

[essycogany]

Rare But Not So Rare Sonic Moments

Flaws

This may get controversial.

I welcome anyone else’s view point on this topic. If you don’t agree I’m okay with that. Just because I have a different perspective doesn’t make what I think right or wrong. You don’t have to change your mind. Whatever your opinion is, I respect it. Besides, it’s fun to have different views on something we both love. It gives us a way to see different sides of the coin.

Disclaimer: I’m a person who didn’t grow up with this franchise and only recently got into in early 2022. I have no biases towards any version of this character. Making my opinions about his characterizations mixed.

By the way, I’ll only use Sonic games as examples (for the most part) because this analysis would be too long if I talked about other medias.

In short. Most of his flaws do stir into different medias as well. To be honest, Sonic’s other variants aren’t as different as some may think, but that’s my hot take.

Times The Blue Blur Messed Up

Riders: Sonic lunched Amy along with Eggman into the air with his wind abilities. While knowing Amy’s safety would be at risk. Then left her. Which was the reason she was so angry and aggressive afterwards. He didn’t ever apologize either.

06: Exchanged a chaos emerald for Elise even after Tails warned Sonic not to.

Unleashed: Was distracted by taunting Eggman.

Sonic: “Well, this is new. Showing remorse Eggman? If you played nice, I wouldn’t have to break all your toys.”

Then became the Werehog. All because he wanted to boost his ego.

Secret Rings: Shahra used Sonic to collect the world rings for Erazar Djinn. Even though it should’ve been expected because she said, “They use to work together.” Ended up not being true.

Black Night: Was tricked into helping Merlina who wanted to create a world that would last forever.

Lost World: Tails once again tried to warn Mr.Impatient about the conch in Eggman’s hand, but kicked it anyways. Then warned Sonic about another trap, he didn’t listen, ended up getting the fox captured instead.

Frontiers: Accidentally helped free The End despite Knuckles and Sage’s suspensions. If his friends, Eggman, and Sage didn’t help him…..Well, it’s in the villain's name.

Side Note: In Secret Rings, Black night, and Frontiers Sonic was rude at points.

Sonic Sassiness

Sonic Sassiness Part 2

Sonic’s Overall Flaws/Mistakes

Some may be from his general characterizations throughout his history.

Sonic rushes into things without a second thought. (Impulsiveness) Sonic can be too reckless, brash, or not take situations seriously.

He’s impatient. (Which was his core trait since his idle animation in Sonic 1)

He doesn’t listen to his friends warnings. Sonic can be too cocky at the wrong moments. He causes or contributes to world ending consequences. The blue blur can also be too trusting and naive.

Sonic doesn’t worry about his own physical or mental state and internalizes his emotions. He isn’t able to express himself very well. Therefore doesn’t put the right words together when speaking sometimes.

Sonic can be stubborn and a bit of a jerk.

Sage: “You are short tempered and short sided.”

And that’s about it. If I missed anything, feel free to let me know.

My Thoughts

A few of these can be seen as Sonic’s strength and weaknesses. Like his willingness to harm himself if it means to save his friends.

The reason Sonic never learns from his mistakes in the games is because he gets away with them. Which is not a good or bad thing per say. (Besides Sonic Riders. There’s no excuse for that.)

The stories never really given him an arc. But I don’t think Sonic’s a perfect or flawless character. If the examples I’ve shown are evidence of anything.

I’d say he’s static, but not consistently. Most static characters I’ve seen rarely stays static anyways.

I also don’t believe Sonic himself thinks he’s perfect. Sonic probably thinks he doesn’t have to change because he’s so sure he should be able to manage things without issue. Everything does eventually go his way. Why should he change?

I do understand Sonic influences people, but why can’t there be a balance? It’s been done plenty of times with other characters. In books, movies, and tv shows. Animated and live-action.

Movie!Sonic in Sonic 2 inspired both Knuckles and Tails. Helping them better themselves with advice and encouragement. While also going through his own arc of growing up and being responsible.

Tails:“You’ve inspired me. To leave my village. To find you and help you on your mission.”

Despite him learning how to slow down and plan things out, Prime!Sonic also inspires the different variants of his friends. Thorn, Dread, and Nine. Helping them grow into becoming better people.

Even in Unleashed Sonic was at his most mature, but it was only after his cocky attitude got him into trouble. So, yes. Inspirational characters can have flaws.

I’ll just say this

Everyone has their own views on how Sonic should be characterized, drawn, played, voiced, animated, and showcase.

It’s fine if you don’t like a curtain interpretation of a character, but to say the character (Especially if they weren’t very consistent in the first place) isn’t acting like themselves now, it’s really hard to argue what self there is to come back to. Because even in the games there are so many different selves for these characters in their own canon universe. From Classic to Adventure, Unleashed, Colors, and Frontiers. (If that makes any sense)

It’s hard to find one place to be in because Sonic’s been in too many places at once. He shouldn’t be held down to one characterization if he’s already been all over the place from the beginning of his existence.

AKA Sonic’s first two shows ever. TAOSTH and SATAM. In both shows Sonic had flaws as well, but never learned from them. Which means he’s been like this from the start. Like everything else about this franchise, his personality is an ongoing experiment that’ll probably never be solved. And I kind of love that. Even if it can be stressful and has it’s own up’s and down’s

All of these unique stories from the games, comics, tv shows, and movies people grew up with are what made this franchise so popular. This is the main reason I became a Sonic fan. Because I learned so much about characterization from this franchise and how to love the different variations of its characters. Finding an appreciation for each of them.

Conclusion

Everyone’s opinions are valid at the end of the day. At least we all have a version of this character we can love and appreciate. Whether you agree or not I’m grateful you’ve made it all the way to the end. You’re a trooper!

Stay Creative! 💜

[sapphic-agent]

Imagine the mentality of the individual who spent 10 years tormenting someone's life, just because that same person tried to help him.

One thing I will agree with Bakugou fans on is that he DOES need help. His ego, leaps in logic, entitlement, and borderline paranoia aren't normal.

The problem is that Bakugou fans tend to a) paint Mitsuki as abusive to excuse his behavior (or blame anyone else other than him) and b) think that he deserves everything he wants/gets in the manga when it should be the opposite. If Bakugou was going to grow and learn to be better he should have been:

Called out on his behavior

Made to face the consequences of that behavior

Forced to learn that he isn't owed anything, least of all from his victim

Able to learn how to save to save, not save to win

A big issue with Bakugou's character is that instead of actually addressing his actions, the narrative excuses and perpetuates them. Bakugou is looking down on Uraraka? Nah, he's actually respecting her by telling her she should have given up. Bakugou continuously assaults Izuku? Oh well you see it's funny. Bakugou is displaying villainous behavior? That's okay because he's too good to join those losers anyway!

The story has even gone out of its way to compare him to Endeavor and it's never expanded on. Like, HUH? All Might pointing that out could have been a great moment for Bakugou to self-reflect since he's well aware of Endeavor being abusive. But even in the middle of his redemption he never takes the time to reflect on his terrible behavior.

The only time he ever does is in his terrible apology but he couldn't even get that right

[anima-writer]

heyyyyyy, can you do a headcanons with pomni, caine and gangle with a artist reader

also, have a good day my folk

:)

Pomni, Gangle & Caine w/ an Artist!Reader

Summary: The title

Warning[s]: NONE!! ALL FLUFF AND FRIENDLY!!!! I'M SORRY I DIDN'T SAW THIS ONE I'M SORRY

Pairing[s]: Pomni x Reader, Gangle x Reader, Caine x Reader; all platonic.

Word Count: 1.591

A/N: HHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIII, THANKS SO MUCH FOR REQUETING!! YOU ARE THE FIRST PERSON TO REQUEST TADC HIHIHI

POMNI-

With an artistic reader like you, Pomni wouldn't make it at first glance. She would still be worried about looking for a way out of that place, so her attitude would be understanding; We should also highlight that she hasn't gotten along so well with anyone yet. Little by little time passes, and even though Pomni is still looking for a way out, she begins to have to socialize more with the rest of the characters to maintain what little sanity she still has left. And one of the other people she socialized with the most if we remove Ragatha, was you.

Time flew by and fled and without noticing, Pomni ended up making a friend during her journey through the place. With your friendship growing, it would be obvious for Pomni to notice your hobbies. Art.

Observing you, you usually draw/scribble some drawings in your free time; free time where Caine wouldn't be around to introduce them to a new adventure that would result in more mental discomfort. Seeing you just in your square without thinking about anything other than finishing your drawing makes herself stop for a minute from her own turmoil to analyze you while drawing. She's sitting next to you just watching, not in a scary way, just a Pomni tired of discord and wanting to do nothing but nothing.

You and your drawings are a good escape from reality when it comes to this subject. But even though she wasn't a total stranger, as her expression of tiredness at your side would be surprising, she gathered her strength to give you small compliments about your work:

"Humm, your art is cool..? No- hum is great! Yeah! So great that I can eat it!.......forget it please."

She's not good at giving compliments. But try. Believe.

One more idea I would like to share about a Pomni with an artist reader would be that she wouldn't mind you using her as paper. I mean, she would care, but wouldn't notice you using her as a paper. Come on, we have a Pomni babbling about her worries and conspiracies about this place with you by her side and we have you, bored because you forgot your sketchpad and just brought your pen.

With boredom slowly consuming you, you make some doodles on your palm only for it to become boring as well. However, the moment Pomni throws her arm towards you, you have a mischievous idea to start doodling on her arm. You start to make simple, small symbols so that Pomni doesn't catch you by surprise, but she ends up catching you by surprise… by not noticing anything.

Just disappointed, you just continue to scribble on her arm until it is completely filled with your drawings; when finished, she still hadn't noticed it.

Later, she only noticed her arm completely covered in scribble by someone else pointing it out. She would be totally tormented that she didn't remember you doing that. It seems like she was too busy talking.

In the end, she would think it was cool that you were an artist and would think it was fun…a little.

GANGLE— 

What a coincidence we have here, it seems like you ended up finding a drawing companion in this place. Gangle even enjoys the same interests as you, drawings! But, specifically, she likes to draw in a more anime-style way.

Like the others, she just watched you doodling, but tried to be as discreet as possible so you wouldn't think of her as a stranger. However, after you got to know each other better and started to socialize more over time, she had the courage to bring up her hobbies during one of her conversations, after a lot of courage required of herself.

For Gangle to be able to show you her work, it will take a lot of time because she is not used to exposing her interests. But after losing his fear, Gangle finally manages to show him his art and after that the two of you are talking for hours! And Gangle would be the one communicating the most.

Your conversations can be anything but make sure Gangle is the one directing the conversation. She's just happy to find someone who doesn't make her feel pressured.

“Hey, remember when you were asking about my drawings? So, um, I kinda drew you. Hope you don’t mind the art style...” –And soon the little masked woman in front of you would be handing you a piece of paper with a drawing for you.

I believe that Gangle would love to do some drawing challenges with you, and several of them would be: Drawing a character that was requested by another, drawing while running against time, drawing and having to swap each other drawings and continue, testing new drawing styles (In this specific case, I believe that Gangle wouldn't be able to escape her anime style; even if she wanted to). and etc…

Arriving next to you, you, once again, notice a masquerade made of ribbons coming towards you:

“[YOU]! Look! I did the art challenge that you made up for me! What do you think?”

One last thing I want to point out would be about compliments. Unlike Pomni who, at least, tries to praise; Gangle can't do it. She may be thinking of thirty-five different types of languages just to mention how amazing your drawing is, but when she opens her mouth, all that comes out is one: “Oh, cool.” 

During the night, Gangle squirms, cries, and starts having a meltdown in her bed all because she feels guilty for not saying what she really wanted to say. Please don't blame her, she really likes your art, she just can't express herself properly...

CAINE—

Unlike the others I wrote, he would be the only one who would notice your artistic side at first, however, he wouldn't point it out. Just make a mental note of this fact without you realizing it. However, he loves recognizing artists so if he saw you doing any kind of project, he wouldn't hesitate to praise you; Even though that moment isn’t one of the best…

“Wow, my dear!—” —Caine exaggeratedly expressed himself through the air– “—I can say for sure your work is fabulous!... But you should keep your eyes on the bull.”

And before you can even ask him what he was talking about, you're hit by a bull in a fancy beach hat.

Even though these small interactions are not always cool, given that Caine appearing right in front of you never means anything good, he has a genuine feeling for your art.

He likes to see you drawing at the same time he tries to do his speech, but doing two things at the same time can be a challenge. So, if you are just doodling in your notepad and don't listen to his voice, it’s because Caine is right behind you watching you draw. No one catches Flying Tooth's attention, because the longer you keep him busy, the longer everyone in that circus doesn't have an adventure; in which they are too tired to sustain mentally.

Bringing the theme of adventure to the surface, there are times when Caine asks you, in private, for your permission to use one of your arts for future adventures. It's not that he has few ideas for his adventures; His process of creating adventures would be in daydream, so imagine while he produced his work mentally, your work ends up infiltrating his mind, but unintentionally, the idea ends up becoming better than he imagined. And that's how we get our host's first sentence asking for permission. But don't worry, only if you want to of course...only if you want to be dropped in the void if you don’t allow it.

Just kidding, Caine would understand and move on.

With Caine being an art connoisseur, he has to prove it, and there's nothing better than showing it off to everyone. Caine, for sure, would be those types of parents who, if their child showed a common project for a child, they would display it as a trophy, that is, if you do something, be sure that if Mr. Tooth likes it, he will show it to everyone. . Whether you want it or not.

“Oh gosh, little star! I… I LOVED IT!”

About to respond, Caine continues his speech, taking your work from your hands: “LOOK EVERYONE!—” –Caine called the attention of the circus cast— “[YOU] MADE THIS!” —Caine floats above everyone with your project still in hand, not wanting anyone to miss it.

“Caine, you really don’t need to do it.” —You announce watching him while it flies moving from one place to another.

“Yeah. Those drawings aren’t gold, you know?” —Jax said, standing right next to you. Hearing this, Caine turned his “head” as quickly as possible towards the rabbit and then snapped his fingers, making him instantly disappear from your side. After this event, the silence soon prolonged until Ragatha broke it:“...Wow [YOU]! I love the way you used those colors in your art. It seems you took a long time to choose them.”

“Yeah! But I liked the lineart for sure!” –Continues Kinger

Some followed Ragatha's example just so they wouldn't end up with the same fate as their purple companion. Others, such as: Kinger and Zooble, didn't get the message or just didn't care that much about speaking verbally.

Caine really likes that one of his characters is an artist for sure.

[firesnap]

i have a genuine question. i promise i am not at all trying to defend him. ive dropped him entirely, literally deleted everything i had of him and unliked his songs.

ive just been wondering like considering that he has been in therapy, and also considering how if he does take a year off and then comes back, why cant it be redeemable? like cant people change? cant we give them second chances? he is 27. is he just doomed to be an abuser forever?

its just scary and im asking as like a younger person who is in my very early 20s. i know ive made mistakes. i know ive not been a good partner or friend sometimes. (and yes i was also abusive to a past partner...im not proud of it and ive learned from it. i have never ever touched anyone in that way after that. it took awhile but my current relationship isnt toxic and i would never hurt anyone or hit them again yknow?) and it scares me that people keep insinuating that he is irredeemable. like cant abusers change and become better? dont they get second chances? if shelby has grown and healed in 10 months wouldn't it be fair to say the same for wilbur?

im just genuinely asking because based on everything i believe you are older than me and im looking for guidance and just...idk im scared. growing up on the internet has made me so scared of making mistakes and doing anything wrong because when it happens to others i look up to, its always treated as something they'll never be able to change or improve. makes me feel like imma just be a horrible person forever because i made mistakes in the past.

This is a really complicated question that multiple answers can validly fit.

I don't think, personally, that anyone is irredeemable. I think everyone is on a journey of forgiveness and some of us may need more grace than others.

This is tw// abuse even more than the current topic, but my mom was incredibly abusive. We lived in a very rural area and she had a lot of undiagnosed problems and trauma of her own that created a pressure pot of issues. After I was born, she suffered through full on post-partum psychosis that nearly ended about as well as that sentence implies it could have. She was incredibly violent, controlling, and cruel for years. My sister went no-contact with her the second she turned 18. A significant event occurred that eventually spurned her into seeking real treatment that lasted for years. It's still ongoing.

My sister is also still no contact and I support her decision 100%. Those are her wounds and what she needed to do to get peace should be respected. I decided I wanted a relationship with the person who came out of all that work and, even then, it's been hard. I don't know if she's redeemed herself, and my god do we still have bumps in the road, but I support her for trying.

With Wilbur, how he responds to this is going to really impact a lot of things. I mean, I know no matter how he responds I won't be going on whatever journey of redemption and healing he has to go through. I'm tired and I feel hurt enough. I would think, if he wanted to show he was sincere, admitting what happened would be a great sense of closure for a lot of people who put time and energy and faith into this guy for years.

Not every person that causes harm is inherently evil, but there has to be some kind of knowledge that you're aware of the harm you've caused. No one is stuck as anything forever, life is constantly moving, and most people aren't saying his life is just over. You can work on yourself. You can change. And I'm saying that specifically to you, anonymous.

(Saying this, actually, there ARE people who would argue once you've done x you're beyond redemption based entirely on their life experiences as a victim, personal histories and many other factors. Kinda like my sister, that's their choice. And you have to accept that sometimes you fuck up so badly that you will permanently lose some people from your life. But your life isn't over.)

But I do think, regardless of what he says or does about this, his time of controlling a large platform is at an end. He can still do a lot of things in his life after he works on himself -- editing, song producing, directing, writing or whatever -- but being in charge of a large impressionable audience that could enable more destructive behaviors is just not it.

[yuzurins]

# to tell you the truth

12 — meeting, number three?

smau masterlist ∗ previous chapter ∗ next chapter

“chigiri, you’re late.” 

you tap your foot impatiently as the person in question (who also happens to be project leader) quickly runs up to you. 

he splutters out a quick apology as he catches his breath. “i’m really sorry! my class was held back longer than i expected.” 

sighing, you uncross your arms and go over to help hold the project stuff he was carrying. 

chigiri looks at you with pleading eyes. “please don’t be mad.”

“it’s fine, just tell me–” you quickly glance over to the person standing beside you. “i mean us, ahead of time if you’re going to run late.”

he grins and does a quick bow. “yeah, sorry!”

“let’s go.”  you nod back, before turning and walking in the direction of the campus library, leaving the other two behind. 

chigiri gives a look to rin, as if to question him “what happened?”, but much to his disappointment, rin returns the same look back.

“so?” the redhead starts.

“nothing happened.” rin rolls his eyes. “she came here, glared at me, and then we just waited for you.”

“you waited in silence for 15 minutes??”

“yes.” rin replies, but he doesn’t make eye contact. chigiri notices this but lets it off when he notices you leaving the building. 

“suspicious.” he raises a brow. “but let’s go before we get left behind!” 

rin picks up one of the bags that chigiri had brought and motions for him to go first. 

“how chivalrous of you.” 

“shut up.”

though the tension was high at first, it became less awkward faster than anyone had originally expected it to be. as top students, work ethic had a bigger influence than past grudges, and you weren’t going to let all your previous hard work go to waste. before you knew it, you actually forgot you were working with the itoshi rin, the one guy who can ruin your mood in a split second. 

but you can’t lie, seeing rin’s talent for art made you feel envious; he really was good at everything (though you would never admit that).

“you know, i think we actually make a pretty good team.”

you blink. “what?” 

“i mean, look at how productive we’ve been!” lightheartedly, chigiri laughs, without any fear of the potential hole he’s about to dig himself into by starting this conversation. “it looks like we might actually finish this today.”

seeing as how relaxed the he was, you reluctantly put a smile on and decide to humour him. “yeah, we should totally do this again.” 

“what-“ rin almost chokes on his water in response to your (meaningless) joke, which surprises you as you expected only a scoff from the boy. however, it seems like hes the dense one here, because he for one can not tell when the slightest tone of sarcasm is being used.

on the other hand, someone does take advantage of your sarcasm. “oh? i’ll take you up on that!”

you glare at the red haired boy, but to no avail are you able to get him to evoke his proposal. “i thought you said we might be able to finish this today…?”  

chigiri raises his brows and smiles. “we still have to decorate!”

he’s really pushing it.

a sigh barely escapes your lips before he follows up in attempt to ease your growing irritation. you couldn’t help it, after all, chigiri’s making an obvious attempt to get you to spend more time with rin. 

“well i mean, it’s early anyways. i think we can get this over with today.” though just barely noticeable, you notice him starting to sulk, and you just slightly begin to feel bad for him.

“whatever.” you close your eyes. “can’t say i’m opposed.” 

chigiri’s face starts to light up, and he jumps out of his seat, a bit too eagerly. “really!?”

he’s excited, you’re not too sure why, but that all ends as you tell him, sternly, “except since you said so, we aren’t leaving until we do finish.”

dejected, he slowly falls back into his seat. “everything?”

“everything.”

a light chuckle comes out of the boy sitting across chigiri. you nearly miss it, but it’s too memorable for you to not notice; as if your ears are accustomed to this sound from hearing it more often than you’d like to remember.

your eyes shoot towards the direction of the laugh, and rin freezes from all the sudden attention. he realizes quickly that your gaze is pressing for an answer, but in all honesty, he himself doesn’t even know how to respond. 

“what?” he splutters. “there was something in my throat.”

you squint your eyes at him, unconvinced. “just so you know, ‘desperate for grades’ me and ‘regular’ me are not the same.” 

“am i supposed to feel threatened by that?” he questions, amusement growing in his tone.

“yes.” you reply immediately. “in case, you know, you think i actually tolerate you now or something.” 

“i’m not delusional.”

you raise a brow. “you sure about that?”

there’s a pause before another word is spoken. you notice the slight shift in his demeanour as you watch rin process your words, hastily open his mouth after. but instead of uttering a rude remark, he closes his mouth and looks away, clenching his fist. 

confused, you look towards chigiri, but he’s as clueless as you are.

the productive atmosphere soils, and the awkward tension that inevitably trails you and rin around returns once more. 

it’s only the sounds of typing, writing, and your wondering thoughts that fill the study room.

why was he getting offended after a joke that he started himself? was it something you said? was it how you looked at him? did he get self conscious because it’s true? or offended because you were extremely off? you wouldn’t know. 

you don’t understand rin at all, and after hearing such from not just rin, but reo as well, you’re well aware that that’s a fact. 

“so,” chigiri speaks up after what feels like a millennia. “how much research do we have left? can we start decorating the display?” 

“i’m practically done, did you bring the stuff?” 

he nods, walking over to take all the arts supplies out of the giant bag he brought. 

“rin, how about you, are you ready?” chigiri asks, but all he gets back in response is an irritated glare. 

a frown adorns your face as you pity chigiri for having to deal with rin’s childish attitude due to your rivalry with the latter. it made you feel responsible for brightening up the atmosphere, even if it wasn’t your problem at all that rin couldn’t handle a joke. “it’s fine, we can start without him.”

but the response you had believed to be the most harmless one (which was avoiding the problem), turned out to be the worst one yet. 

rin slams the papers he was holding down onto the table beside his laptop. he lets out a deep sigh and turns to look at the two of you. “no. i’m not.”

“‘kay,” chigiri starts, before slowly sitting down and flashing you a quick glance of alarm. “i’ll look over everything again, just let us know when you’re done.”

this won’t do. 

you absolutely hated the fact that rin was being a selfish prick right now, but despite your opposition, it would be too much for chigiri to handle this guy alone. which is how you came to the conclusion that it was time to bring out the fabricated extroverted version of yourself deliberately prepared to deal with awkward situations with strangers. you just had to mentally prepare to delude yourself by erasing every single interaction you had shared with rin, and all the feelings of resentment you held towards him. easy… right?

it was going to be a long, long, day.

notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE SHITTY CHAPTER T_T i just wnated to lyk that y/n is an extremely unreliable narrator and that everything written in their perspective is only what they deduce from the environment around them!!!!!! please enjoy and i will be definitely doing better with the smau posts instead of written chapters lMFOA

pairing ∗ itoshi rin x f!reader

synopsis — all you wanted was a peaceful and productive uni life, but despite your pleas, your plans start crumbling when the star of the football team, itoshi rin, begins to beat you in every aspect possible. as you confront the inevitable, what happens when you uncover secrets behind an unforgettable event from the past?

taglist 1/2 ∗ send an ask / comment to be added or removed

@kitorin @rinsque @jleijl @rintosei @strawberrypockybox @beanxiv @ode2rin @h4nman @hanmastattoos @kaitfae @idk-bro-gay @piichuu @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @invictax @chaosinanutshell @exatse @kirameki-kumo @xoxojisu @mellozhi @certaindreampost @limerence-lu @nutsinspector @kawaii-angelanne @rroxii @saesins @anngelllla @anurst @y-sabell-a @hellothere9597 @evilenchantresss @msameikanevaeh @saesofficialwife @reiners-milkbiddies @f1yh1gh @celioderso @amenial @wooasecret @kascar-chronicle @izonoi @biaonww @blissblossom @sereniteav @1lovestrawberrymilk @hearts4itoshi @yeojeolmi @arxliana @janbannan @leeyzhuo @kiritokunuwu @geombyu @jiaspoon @yunxbin @p3achiee (if your name is in bold it means i can't tag you)

[gh0stbeeee]

Rise of the Guardians/The Guardians of Childhood is low-key my Roman Empire.

Like, specifically in the movie verse, there's just... so much that was never elaborated on. It's one of the unfortunate side effects of being kid's media, things get dumbed down for no reason.

Like, Jack Frost in general as a character. He died. DIED. He DROWNED in a pond saving his sister and??? Nothing. The entire moment when he remembered became "Oh I'm the fun guy that had a family and saved my sister!" AND DIED. Very important part that is completely glossed over other than the idea of sacrifice. Like, the other guardians were "chosen," did they not die too? Did Jack lose his memories because he died, but the others were chosen while alive, chose to leave their lives and remembered?

And just, what were his early years? For a very long time, at least a decade, he probably thought he was totally invisible, that he could never have a true conversation with another person, because I doubt that he stumbled upon another spirit/legend for a while.

Like, that would have driven him INSANE. There's no way he wouldn't be super socially awkward from the isolation, much less just totally mentally well. Are spirit's brains built different? They'd have to be, but I don't think they should be able to withstand that level. Like what was the mim thinking??? Seriously just abandoned a TEENAGER he resurrected with no memory or possibility of support, that's wrong.

And on that note, let me reiterate that Jack died. In front of his little sister. Who had to go back home and tell her family what happened. Did he have a father too? More siblings? Friends and family? They had a funeral no doubt, mourned him. Because he died.

The worst part? He was right there. The whole time. Jack came back to that pond and settlement for hundreds of years, even when it became Burgress. He probably watched his funeral not knowing what was going on, saw his family mourn him without knowing it was for him. He was there when they died, not knowing who they were to him. Did he realize later on? I can only imagine the devastation.

The worst part is Manny probably had to take his memories, because Jack would have been DEPRESSED. He would've tried everything to make them believe, and they probably never would. His parents would probably never see him again, they were adults. His sister was plausible, but she's still mortal. She would have died, Jack would have seen his little sister grow old and die while he stayed eternally young. He might've not ever recovered from that, mim taking his memories distanced him from the pain for when he remembered 300 years later.

But he also could have moved on, grown and loved her descendants and honored her. The mim took that choice away, and that's pretty fucked up.

Then yeah, 300 years of pretty much no acknowledgement. Going into live blind with no guidance or memories, trying to figure yourself out but being ignored by the once who brought you here. Jack would realistically be a little nutty, because wow. It's shown the even other spirits didn't really talk to him, he made them acknowledge him by playing pranks and pissing them off till they confronted him. Maybe it's in spirit's nature to be recluses, but it's not in Jack's. He wanted attention and to be seen, but no one wanted to or could give it to him.

That's why Jamie seeing him for the first time always makes me tear up. This is the first time for HUNDREDS of years that a human has acknowledged him, not an out of touch spirit, but a regular person Jack can connect with, that chose to see him, to believe. That's beautiful, and special.

There's just so many layers to this story that we never got to see, and I'm forever sad DreamWorks abandoned the franchise.

(If anyone has any good fics that explore topics like this, especially Jack's family, please share)

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

Hey

Want to know your opinion, how would you improve some arcs of toh characters, like Amity, Hunter, Lilith, Willow, Gus and probably anyone whose arcs you think are bad-written?

good question! let's see,

luz: i have mostly no complaints about her character but i wish they made it clear that her running off to the boiling isles was not ideal. i don't entirely blame her because she was a child and she was looking for a way to avoid going to camp, but the show starts off implying that luz's escapism was a bad thing, but then they kinda contradict that in the end, by letting her have access to the boiling isles forever.

also her s3 arc with her palisman was just overall poorly written. it was supposed to be an emotional and wholesome moment but it didn't have that impact on me. if luz's greatest wish was to be understood, they should have built on that more. i mean, it's not like no one understood her, all of her friends and found family in the boiling isles seem to understand and empathize with her. it just felt like the writers pulled this revelation out of their asses, and the fact that stringbean was inexplicably a shapeshifter didn't help their case.

amity: i would keep some parts of her initial characterization, like her ambitious nature and her resting bitch face energy. even if the idea was to make amity grow into a more cheerful person, it doesn't make sense that it happened so quickly. imo her characterization was at its best when she was warming up to luz but not entirely nice to other people (like during the grom episode). i really liked her cold, standoffish behaviour and i think it would have been nice if she had kept some of that, while still being a better person than she was in the beginning.

also, like i said in another post, she should definitely have goals of her own. her character shouldn't have been reduced to "luz's girlfriend". i would definitely show more of her interacting with the other characters (and these interactions and conversations aren't about luz) and pursuing her own dreams. i think steven universe did this best where connie liked steven a lot and she did hang out with him, but she also had her own life and her own dreams to chase.

hunter: i wouldn't put him in a relationship with willow, or anyone, for that matter. the poor boy has a lot of trauma he needs to work through and based on the stuff that he's said, it's clear that he doesn't know how healthy human interactions work, let alone a romantic relationship.

i would make his arc about slowly healing through his trauma or at least being able to express his emotions, instead of suppressing them for willow's sake. i think it could have been done, despite the time crunch. he needed time to grieve flapjack, to grieve himself after being possessed and almost killed by his abuser, and to slowly start his healing journey.

the others would definitely support him through it, but that's what he needs at the time, not a badass girlfriend.

lilith: i think her redemption arc started off okay but then everyone forgave her too quickly. it wasn't as bad as catra's because lilith did put a little effort into trying to be better, but she still needed to do more before she could have been forgiven.

so either i would extent her redemption arc and let the other characters, especially eda, stay mad at her a little longer before she gets forgiven. or i would just keep her as an antagonist.

they didn't even explore her trauma of being in a cult and the emperor's coven never chased her down after she left. not to mention, her experience of being in the emperor's coven is never relevant to the plot. she could have given luz inside information or talked about belos' potential weaknesses, it was such a missed opportunity.

willow: her arc with amity was not terrible and i like that she was allowed to take her time to trust amity. this is more about amity than willow but i think it would have been nice if we saw amity making more efforts to gain willow's trust. her apology in understanding willow was good but they kinda glossed over the fact that amity wasn't just "letting her friends bully willow", she was also bullying willow.

i think we needed more of willow and amity trying to mend their friendship, instead of lumity being the main focus after that one episode.

and in general, willow deserved a bigger role in the series. for the longest time, she was just luz's friend and then they forced her into a relationship with hunter, which did not work at all.

if her intended arc was to work on her insecurities and get more confident over time, they should have shown more of that process. even Any Sport In A Storm was mostly about huntlow (and hunter, to some extent) then willow. and let's be honest, the whole "half a witch" thing was dragged out more than it needed to be.

gus: okay, buckle up because i think i have the most grievances with gus. i need to make this clear. GUS WAS SO UNDERUSED.

i'm sorry. this guy is a child prodigy who can create illusions and use illusion spells to look into people's minds and force them to relive their worst memories?? why was this not more relevant to the plot? gus is such an insanely skilled witch and yet he's always pushed to the back for some reason. he has the most versatile and useful skillset but he never gets to use it, it makes me so mad!

even him looking into belos' mind was only used for that brief moment where he admits that he knew hunter was a grimwalker, but didn't want to force hunter to talk about it. that's it. we get no further conversation about it, gus never addresses the other stuff he saw in belos' memories like him MURDERING his brother and creating all the grimwalkers and god knows what else??

also just the fact that he's able to psychologically torment people with illusions is such an OP move that the series just kinda glossed over. it was used in a few episodes, but it could have been used to a greater extent. i just think that gus could have been such an interesting and powerful character, if he was given enough spotlight.

he also had a good thing going with mattholomule but instead of making that canon, they went for huntlow. i'm not saying that gus has to be in a relationship (or any of them, for that matter) but why create a new rushed ship when you already have a perfectly good one to work with?

i also find it weird that gus and willow were supposedly best friends but we got very few moments between them. i would have loved to see more of their friendship, and more focus on platonic relationships in general.

so yeah, if i were to rewrite gus, i would definitely give him a lot more spotlight. heck, given his powerset, he has the potential to be the main character even!

belos: i've mentioned it a lot before but belos deserved a more climatic end to his arc. all of the implications of religious trauma and puritan culture was thrown in the trash in s3.

he was actually such a compelling villain, genuinely intimidating and with an interesting motive and backstory. what was the point of crafting such an interesting character, just to be like "lol he's evil murder his ass"?

i'm not even mad that he died, i'm just mad that THAT'S how he died. i was expecting his death to be something ironic and self-inflicted, like the people from the human realm being horrified by him and killing him. maybe even burning him to death, the same way witches were burned at the stake. buuuut no, we get king, raine and eda stomping on his corpse because haha that's funny. hunter didn't even get to be a part of all this, and he was the one who deserved closure, he was the one who deserved to see his abuser face consequences of their actions, not fucking eda and raine.

and that part where he tries to convince luz that he was just under a terrible curse was just.. so childish. and not in-character childish, but just childish writing. it was just so ooc for belos, he is a manipulator but this wasn't how he manipulated people. i guess you could argue that he was just too desperate to survive but eh. i think it could have been written better.

eda: i don't have too many complaints here, i think she was probably the most well-rounded and compelling character in this show. her arc about the owl curse was interesting and very relatable to me, as someone who is epileptic. her relationship with raine was the best in the series imo.

the only thing i would change is, as I mentioned earlier, i wouldn't make eda forgive lilith so easily. i also think that she kind of lost her "morally grey parental figure" edge by the end of the series, and i honestly liked that part of her a lot, so i would keep it. but that's just a personal preference.

raine: they were definitely a very interesting character, i just think they deserved more screentime. most of their role in the story was surrounding their relationship with eda, which was very compelling, but we could have gotten more of their character outside their relationship.

the members of the emperor's coven, as a whole, could have been used better in the series. but for a side character with medium relevance to the plot, i'd say raine was written pretty well.

[clangenrising]

sorry if this is too harsh to ask. when ever the story leans over to the city cats, they mistreat others or lean on the evil/bad side (look at poor aldertail, lake, scorch, and smokeyrose :( ) the more I read this, the more I'm siding with the clan cats to wipe out all the city cats. that way there can be peace for everyone because I can't see how the city cats have any remorse in the clan cats eyes or yours

Wow. Okay.

Um, first things first, I will never be in support of Wiping Out any group of people. I get what you're trying to say but that's just not an ideology I can get behind. It is honestly a very dangerous and upsetting argument to make and hopefully, I can explain why.

Most of the city cats are not Evil. Most of the city cats are people who grew up in a corrupt system and have been taught to do bad things from a young age. Like Mystique for example: Has she hurt people? Yes. Does she seem resistant to change? Yes. Does this mean she is not worthy of compassion or a chance to grow and be better? Absolutely not!

I was raised Mormon. I know a lot of people, some who I love, who do bad things on the regular - people who voted for trump, people who support homophobic or imperialist policies, people who are hurtful to the marginalized people in their lives. I will NEVER believe that these people deserve to die for the way they are. They are just humans doing their best with the knowledge they were given and the baggage they've accrued.

I do think that there are cats, like Razor for instance, who need to be Stopped, certainly, and removed from positions of power. Unfortunately, cats don't have the ability to institute more systemic solutions to these kinds of problems so they will most often solve these problems by killing the cat. But this should only happen after it is clear that there is no opportunity for a non violent solution.

The world is complicated and messy and it means people are taught bad things and have trauma that makes them hurt other people. I'm not saying that those behaviors are okay. They should be held accountable for the harm that they do. But those behaviors do not make them irredeemable or Evil. Hell, I don't think there ARE Evil people! I don't think there are GOOD people! People can't be good or evil because they are always going to be making new choices. Some of those choices will hurt people, some of those choices will help people, some of those choices are entirely neutral. I believe you can judge people's actions but its impossible to judge their 'soul' so to speak.

There are a lot of cats in the city who do bad things because they see those things as normal or because the system rewards them for doing so. Do you think the Clans should kill all of those people?? Because I will never agree with you if you do and I urge you to rethink how you see the world.

Give me any city cat and I will be able to find a way to empathize with them. Yes, even Razor. They're all just people. And in my opinion, none of them deserve to die. They deserve to change and heal. And I think most of them will. I'm a death penalty abolitionist and that means I don't think ANYONE should be put to death. You don't get to selectively apply that kind of belief only to the people you think are 'good'.

Sorry for how long and rambling my response was. If anyone has follow up questions or comments, I'm open to discussing this further, just please remember to be kind and avoid any sort of harassment, and that goes both ways. Nobody harass this anon for what they said. I believe they are very misguided but that doesn't make them a bad person. If you think that then you've entirely missed the point of everything I said.

[kdogreads]

Richie Jerimovich HCs that just have to come out of my brain include:

Mostly SFW but a pinch of steamy stuff bc of who I am as a person so MDNI 🤪🥵

He’s afraid to get married again

He thinks something about that paper and ring will make him slip back into his old ways and he’ll let you down just like he did Tiff. So you agreed early on that you wouldn’t get married.

Socially, you start using his last name after a couple of years. No one really questions you, either. Christmas cards are signed The Jerimovich Family; take out orders are usually placed under his last name; all of your socials have Jerimovich tacked on the end; when you inevitably have a baby or two, they take his last name and you use it too when they start school. Anyone who’s been around a while knows you aren’t married, but anyone new just assumed you are.

“Should you—do I call you my partner? Like, girlfriend sounds like we’re 16 or some shit. Maybe just my—my girl? Nah, that’s bad, too,” He stresses over the title, like it really matters all that much.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter to me,” You wrap your arms lovingly around his neck, “Pretty much everyone thinks I’m your wife anyway, so.”

“My pretty little pretend wife, huh? I like that.”

He wants more babies with you

Richie loves being a dad. He’s loved watching Eva thrive and every stage she grows into and out of, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the squishy baby phase.

He’s a sucker for the cute onesies that say silly things or big teddy bear costumes they can toddle around in. He’s so attentive and preset and it makes you swoon.

“Hey Richie, I, uh, I was thinking about asking you something,” You start hesitantly, not sure where his mind will be on this, “And it’s totally fine if you say no or not yet or—“

“Out with it. You’re scarin’ me, baby,” He gently presses his warm palms to your cheeks, “What’s going’ on?”

“Well, just—what do you think about having a baby?” You speak as clearly as you can.

“A baby?” You can’t read his face and it makes your heart race.

You simply nod, holding in your anxiety. Before you can react, Richie scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder.

“Richie! What are you doing?” You screech, playfully swatting at his toned back.

“I’m putting a baby in you right now, sweetheart,” He smacks your behind sharply.

You do talk it over a little bit before you really start trying, but it is entirely possible that Richie did put a baby in your just then.

He’s so much more romantic than you thought he’d be

He’ll get you flowers on a random Tuesday because “They made me think of you, baby.”

And surprise with a delicious homemade dinner when he is somehow able to get home before you.

Or taking you to a cool new spot on his rare night off, having been invited by a local friend to try their new menu. He’s the classic, sticky sweet date that opens your car door for you and helps you with your coat and pulls out your chair for you to sit. Swoon.

If you have a little one, he’ll happily wear them strapped to his chest while you wonder through Target or a farmer’s market or museum. Dad Richie is the gooiest sweet partner, comfortably calming a crying baby or keeping them entertained so you can eat your meal or talk to friends.

He compliments you on everything

Like when you do the laundry he’ll say, “Damn, baby! How do you always fold my shirts so perfect?”

Or when you clean the house while he’s at work, “You keep a beautiful home, sweetheart. Can’t believe you let a dog like me in here.”

He kinda likes traditional gender roles (like you cleaning and cooking while he’s at work), but only so that he can brag about how good you are to him. Someone will compliment his suit and he’ll say, “My girl keeps me well-dressed.”

Or posting a cozy picture of the two of you to his 36 Instagram followers with the caption, “Before she got here this place was just an apartment but now it’s our home. Love you baby! #bigfanofher”

He loves how comfortable you are with Eva

Dating when you’re a parent can be nerve-wracking, but Richie knew right away you’d be an amazing person to be around his baby. You’ve never treated her like a step-child, but loved her like your own from the moment you met.

He gets so emotional when he sees you interacting with her so sweetly, like when Eva needs help with homework or asks you to help her with her hair. He’s just obsessed with his girls 🥹

This man gives and gives

He’s such a giver in all aspects of his life: carrying in all the groceries, starting the coffee in the morning, brushing the snow off your car so you don’t have to.

As far as the sex goes, this man loves making you squirm and whine below him, buries his face in you whenever he can, and pulls orgasms out of you like there’s no tomorrow, leaving you a whining, whimpering mess by the time he’s done 🥵

Sweet Richie just loves loving you and giving you everything he can 🫶❤️