#also my longest tag is very funny

[sadisthetic]

I posted 71 times in 2022

That's 58 more posts than 2021!

66 posts created (93%)

5 posts reblogged (7%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@rotten-dan-art

@sadisthetic

@ap-sadistics

I tagged 71 of my posts in 2022

#my art - 28 posts

#jem.txt - 22 posts

#asks - 20 posts

#ninjago - 18 posts

#anonymous - 14 posts

#monkie kid - 10 posts

#jay walker - 10 posts

#ninjago jay - 9 posts

#doodles - 7 posts

#mk - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i like rotating him veryvery fast in my brain its like the ultimate spinjitsu except its a form of torture love thinking about skybound lol

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

been thinking about that awkward laugh jay does sometimes and its been echoing in my head so much i animated it. this is my fffirstish attempt at animating something like this? i love jay. i stayed up to 10am to finally finish this

1,464 notes - Posted September 14, 2022

#4

See the full post

1,559 notes - Posted July 26, 2022

#3

kai is ABSOLUTELY the type to do finger hearts in photos (if he had fingers) and so i have to bully him to DEATH

1,878 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

#2

coughs- i ship them in very. specific way. theyre besties they care about each other they love each other they also FIGHT EVERY OTHER WEEK BITE BITE BITE

1,970 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

3,069 notes - Posted August 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

--------

i forgot i wanted to post this. anyways. i posted 71 times in 2022. 58 times more than 2021. thats fucking crazy. legos did this to me. ninjago. this fucking show. it did something to my brain.

[guidingthulite]

"Akiyama, what is this?"

"Why, I might be a beginner, but to say to my face that you can't even tell what I've drawn...!"

"I do know what this is, what I meant to ask is WHY."

"Ena lent me her tablet, so I wanted to make the most of it by drawing something truly great!"

"Why is Tsukasa wearing a dress?"

"I really wanted to draw one, so I asked him if I could draw him in a wedding dress, and he said yes!"

"Naturally, Akito! A star should look good in anything they wear, and this is no exception! I am quite pleased with the result!"

"Of course you'd say that..."

(CHAPTER 6 OF THIS IS LIKE MY SISTER'S SHOUJO MANGAS BUT WORSE OUT NOW! READ HERE!)

a better look at mizuki's drawing under the cut!

[unnamed-atlas]

Having brain worms. What if uhhhhhh SOS Mianite au

[sgtjamesrogers]

Fic Stat Meme

Rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

Tagged by @literatigeek !! thank youuu alyssa :) i somehow haven't ever done this meme so i'm Intrigued to see what the final stats tally would look like in this format!

Fic with the Most Hits Been Too Unkind 2,240 words | rated teen and up audiences

Roy’s alarm goes off at 3:40 am the Monday after their Sunday match right on schedule, and when he rolls over to his nightstand and switches it off, the next notification is a reminder from his calendar. After his eyes adjust he sees ‘PHOEBE DAY’ in all caps, with three swords emojis and a snake emoji after it. Roy had let her pick out the emojis.

Second Most Kudos One Open Mind 3,805 words | rated teen and up audiences

“See, I can get behind the idea of putting a feeling or two in a box, you know, when you can’t stop turning them over in your head and nothing’s changing. There’s a time and a place, my man.” He stands, replacing his hat back on his head. Roy squints a little at the design. “What the fuck is that?” “A shuttlecock,” Beard replies, reaching up an index finger to tap the embroidery. “Obviously. Anyway, like I said. There’s a time and a place for that, believe me. I get it. But getting more acquainted with your feelings instead of putting them up on the shelf can’t hurt. It’s a step up from putting all of ‘em on a shelf, at least.” “Every time you talk this much, I never know how to respond,” Roy says faintly. “It’s fucking disconcerting.”

Third Most Comments Problems With Easy Solutions 3,717 words | rated teen and up audiences

Chris accidentally RSVPs to Gut Chase's annual New Year's Eve party, and his attendance reveals a secret that Adrian's been keeping.

Fourth Most Bookmarks Tarnish The Golden Rule 14,946 words | rated explicit

The discovery that the woman Buck dated in Virginia Beach didn't just teach Buck to surf sends Eddie's life into an unexpected tailspin.

Fifth Most Words Should've Been Home Yesterday 6,421 words | rated teen and up audiences

Shoes discovers that her father is Roy Harper, but more importantly that he is a stone cold weirdo, and maybe a little bit of a marshmallow, as far as she’s concerned. Agreeing to give the whole “family” thing a test run with a cross country road trip to meet her mother, she invites Jason along for the ride. After all, she should probably invite her dad’s boyfriend to tag along, to reconnect now that Roy’s among the living again. The only problem is that Roy and Jason remain blissfully unaware of her assumption that their connection was romantic.

Fic with the Least Words romancing loves (to hold you) 1,899 words | rated explicit

i guess i'm copping to writing this one lmaoooo Daniel makes an ill-advised pottery purchase to save the shop some money, but Johnny and Daniel end up reaping the benefits anyway.

and i honestly have no idea who might wanna join in this time around, so if you see this. i'm tagging you. i'm tagging you right now. yes you. don't look behind yourself, i mean you. go forth. Do Meme.

[restlesshush]

I posted 9,237 times in 2022

That's 2,883 more posts than 2021!

179 posts created (2%)

9,058 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@autisticandroids

@suncaptor

@castiellesbian

@5bi5

@billiewena

I tagged 6,279 of my posts in 2022

Only 32% of my posts had no tags

#spn - 3,249 posts

#btvs - 1,237 posts

#ats - 148 posts

#worded thoughts - 132 posts

#cabin pressure - 90 posts

#derry girls - 71 posts

#goncharov - 71 posts

#ds9 - 69 posts

#<3 - 60 posts

#firefly - 58 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#he will address the car as ‘baby’ and he’ll talk about ‘my baby’ but he won’t just refer to it as ‘baby’ in a sentence i’m fairly certain

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I think the reason why celebrating the life of asa fox is leaving me so “wtf this isn’t just a good spn episode this is literally an episode from a better show” is that it’s not an example the show spn was trying to be, it’s specifically an episode from the show it was afraid of being.

In terms of the actual monster of the week, what we have here is a beautiful execution of the type of thing early spn was going for. The stakes are in absolute terms not high, but they’re more compelling for this because they’re so personal!! The threat is just one demon harming people we care about (literally the climax of devil’s trap, think about if the demon had been possessing Mary). Demons are actually scary again, the danger feels grounded and meaningful in a way it doesn’t tend to so much in late seasons (with some notable exceptions like red meat).

But it’s when we drill into what exactly “one demon harming people we care about” means that it becomes clear why this is a different, better show. ‘People we care about’ here isn’t just Sam and Dean and their parent, it’s not even just Sam, Dean, their parent and Jody. We’ve got this much bigger cast of very lived in characters who it feels like we could easily return to (and some of feucht we do!), which is the antithesis of what early spn was going for, and one of the weirder things it insisted on sticking with. That’s not to say early spn doesn’t want you to care about one-off characters, or that it doesn’t have recurring supporting ones, it obviously does, but it doesn’t devote this much time to making you care about them outside of how they serve the plot.

Because that’s the kicker with asa fox: it is a truly outstanding motw episode, but the entire first half doesn’t even deal with the monster at all, it’s just about exploring – and quite frankly, revelling in – both new and old characters and the dynamics between them. And spn doesn’t like to do that!! People often complain about how spn alludes to fun things happening off screen without showing them; the first half of asa fox pretty much does nothing but show them!! Yockey gives us the ensemble cast spn is terrified of having longterm, and does make excellent use of them to the end of the motw, but also shows them to be a joyful thing in their own right.

And then obviously this network of hunters we’re getting shown here is simply a further fleshing out of what we already got glimpses of via Ellen and Jo and the roadhouse. Yockey is literally using the tools spn already provides to manifest the better show it would never allow itself to be, and it’s absolutely stunning, and only his first episode.

723 notes - Posted January 8, 2022

#4

There’s an annoying flavour of fanon Cas that both is way more boring than canon and does him a massive disservice. Season 4 Cas didn’t follow Dean because he had some sort of special faith in him and his ~goodness or whatever; he wasn’t going along with him because he ~trusted him to be right. He’s persuaded by him because he a) already cares about humans in his own right and so is won over by Dean’s arguments and b) has a crush on Dean which makes him want things that Dean wants to happen. It’s not about blindly following – it’s very much about meeting someone whose principles are already very compatible with his own burgeoning ones And someone whose good opinion he wants. There’s no Just Following the Righteous Man here: it’s all about agency babeyy, and it’s not even all completely selfless! Free will!!

759 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

#3

I do think it really is something to give Dean a visible face wound while he’s mourning his dead angel husband with healing powers.

1,125 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

#2

10x03 vs 10x22: Cas pushing away the hand that’s come to save him and welcoming the hand that’s come to kill him

1,176 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

One of the things I find particularly entertaining about destiel as a phenomenon is how it’s a study in accidentally creating homoeroticism via a lack of shared screen time. It’s not just that “for what it’s worth, I would give anything not to have you do this” and “well, I guess I’m not the man either of our dads wanted me to be” are already incredibly intimate things for two characters to say in their eighth episode together, but they’ve also really not interacted very much during that time and none of that unambiguously on the same side. It’s the whole “Cas is Dean’s [redacted]” of it all: season 4 destiel doesn’t work as a story about Friendship or whatever because that’s just not something the writers have taken time to show. Instead, it’s simply gay.

It doesn’t stop there either; even as late as Cas’s “I could go with you” in the season 11 finale there’s a sense of “wow, that’s very intense for two guys who’ve really not spent a lot of time together lately”. But I think, ironically, the point of no turning back here was season 6, specifically how tmwwbk works in the context of the rest of it. In a season 6 where Cas had more frequently come along for motw cases, or at least where the vibe had been more friendly and amicable when they had interacted, it would be much more plausible to read Dean’s heartbroken betrayal as being about Cas as a friend. But instead, most of their interaction has just been Dean being irrationally angry at Cas for (checks notes) trying to stop the apocalypse from restarting, while this endeavour also keeps Cas off screen a good amount of the time. Because she disliked the gay angel and so gave him as little screen time as possible before trying to write him out, Sera Gamble inadvertently set up the perfect conditions for Ben Edlund to use that Eurydice turn to say “fyi, Dean’s in love with him too”.

This thread continues throughout the show, with Cas and Dean’s having intense interactions while Cas is in only roughly half of episodes, itself making these interactions come across as even more potent. The narrative forces keeping Cas and Dean apart actively directly contribute to the logical conclusion being that they’re in love with each other; the narrative just can’t win <3

1,219 notes - Posted February 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

i think all the riddler khu thing is really tiring and i hate leaks and datamines and shit like that but this guy is so funny talking about it like he goes through the 5 stages of grief in every video; he's the only poketuber i'll allow to talk about khu

[ziracona]

I posted 11,676 times in 2022

1,952 posts created (17%)

9,724 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theinkgirl

@sluttyfranzkafka

@artianaiolanthe

@ziracona

@next-time-you-invite-pam

I tagged 8,897 of my posts in 2022

Only 24% of my posts had no tags

#dragon age 2 - 662 posts

#ask - 576 posts

#days gone - 435 posts

#persona 5 - 422 posts

#9 hours 9 persons 9 doors - 412 posts

#fate go - 400 posts

#fallout 4 - 332 posts

#dragon age origins - 247 posts

#anonymous - 236 posts

#dragon age inquisition - 214 posts

Longest Tag: 97 characters

#Также. Я сказал в ЭТОМ посте: «Не делайте репостовчтобы говорить анти-Андерсовские вещи в тегах».

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Okay but what I can’t get over is when you meet Anders, and he explains Justice, he says his anger and hate corrupted Justice and overwhelmed him—changed him—and he’s miserable and guilt-ridden and full of so much self-hatred and fear of hurting someone he loves again and certainty he will, that he takes THREE YEARS of being in love with Hawke who is actively pursuing him, before even considering risking a relationship.

And I fucking believed him. I thought ‘That makes sense. Spirits are influenced by how they’re believed to be (a great example being the awful things that happen to poor Justice on a Rival!Path in DA2), and their environment, and what they’re pushed to do. He’s clearly not a demon, which tracks, because that only happens to a spirit corrupted completely away from their core being, and Justice and Vengeance aren’t antonyms—they have solid overlap. So, it’s more like he’s unstable and a little bit shaky in his sanity, dealing with this, but still very much a spirit and himself—just also sort of unwell.” It made sense. I really thought Anders would understand what was going on.

It wasn’t until beating the whole fucking game and having complete context, that I was able to look backwards and realize that’s entirely wrong. In Awakening, Justice has /exactly/ the same personality as in DA2, just more stable and calm and curious, less unwell and fractured. That’s what I said before? No, not exactly. What I mean is, Justice pushes Anders in Awakening to consider a more active role in defending Mages. He’s forceful and passionate about doing the right thing—hell, when you meet him, he’s championing a bunch of humans in the Fade to save them from a demon by force. He changed, yes. But it wasn’t his personality. It was his stability.

Anders’ feelings of anger and hate and desire for justice and vengeance didn’t hurt Justice at all; those feelings are all just ones. It was his fear and guilt that did. It was the way he’s been raised his entire life by the Chantry to consider himself dangerous and violence dangerous and action dangerous, and caring too much, fighting back, standing up, using magic to fight back, all dangerous and bad. It’s his /fear/ that he is wrong and bad. It’s his religious trauma over his own existence biologically as what he is. Justice didn’t change. Anders was afraid of what he and Justice did—were able to do—what Justice did to protect him. And immediately assumed he was the monster and he was at fault, because as much of a rebel as he is and as much as he believes Mages are not monsters and deserve to be free, like basically all minorities who had to unlearn the bigotry they experienced their whole life, he has not been able to stop applying to himself rules he long ago stopped apply to everyone else in the world.

And that fear, that belief Justice had been warped and hurt by him, and schism in his own mind about not just what Justice means, but what it means as it relates to him and what he’s allowed to do and want, and it making him evil as a person to pursue even if he thinks it’s right, /that/ is what warped Justice. That’s why Justice is unstable and unwell and their relationship is fractured and strained, despite caring for each other, and Justice’s overwhelming desire to help Anders. Anders is terrified not of Justice, but of himself. And in retrospect all of this is made so clear by his two paths in DA2.

Since gaining Justice, Anders was immediately attacked and almost killed by another Warden, and had to flee, and it was bloody. He ran to Kirkwall and kept his head down, struggling to help as a doctor for refugees in the slums, risking freedom and life every day by practicing magic as an apostate. He’s utterly alone. He spent years fleeing the Circle and being dragged back. As a youth, he fell in love, and they separated him and his boyfriend and took him to another tower. He kept trying to escape. He was left in solitary confinement for an /entire year/ after his seventh escape. The wardens saved him, and he had a home and freedom for like 6 months in awakening, then the Wardens bowed to the Chantry’s demands and initiated a Templar to follow him literally everywhere like a prison warden and that hard earned freedom and community was lost. He saved Justice’s life by letting him live in his body, but in doing so was proclaimed an abomination and almost killed on the spot by the Templar Warden, and fled, alone again. In Kirkwall, he isolated himself to try to keep others safe, and spent his time healing. Then he meets Hawke, and goes to save his first love from being made tranquil, only to find the Chantry is using their own church to bait him, and he has arrived too late, Karl is gone, and he is nearly made tranquil himself, then forced to kill the only person he’s ever loved when Karl regains his person for seconds and begs him to do it before he’s a mindless slave again.

From here, he spends the next 7 years helping heal Hawke’s team, smuggling Mages out of Kirkwall to save them as part of an Underground Railroad, championing mage rights and protesting, writing manifestos, healing refugees and the poor, and doing everything in his power to make the world better. No one in Hawke’s party, except determinately Hawke (and determinately Bethany as well, before, well), takes him and the plight of Mages seriously. He’s treated as an extremist and an annoyance and over the top for regularly talking about the fact that, you know; his minority group literally is being killed in the streets and turned into mindless slaves for the church every fucking day, and no one is stopping it. He becomes more and more desperate and isolated and the situation gets so bad, Justinia has ordered an Exalted March to purge Kirkwall, and Meredith has sent for the Right of Annulment to kill every mage in the circle, about half way through Act 3. And still, no one does anything. He’s completely alone, even in just, fucking validating the severity of the suffering and death and injustice they face.

If Hawke treats Anders like a monster, like an abomination, and Justice like a demon? Over the course of those 7 years of being dismissed, abandoned, and outright attacked by the closest things he has to friends, he becomes less and less stable, more and more lost to the Chantry fears he’s a monster, less sure of himself and his identity, more alone, and confused, and broken, and hopeless. Pulled in too many directions and giving up in despair and trying to fight at the same time. And Justice gets worse. He becomes believed by everyone to be a demon, until even Anders is uncertain and afraid of them both. And then Justice is torn between hurting Anders, and letting innocents die, both of which go intrinsically against his nature as a spirit, and what happens to Justice is what happens to any spirit forced to be and forced to act outside of its nature: he begins to be warped into a demon.

If Hawke is a friend to Anders, and he is not alone in his fight for his people. If Hawke helps him, and reassures him, and he is able to stabilize his mind and emotions and realize he’s not a monster, and his cause is just, he and Justice stabilize together, and no longer have even the issues they do in Act 1, because his warped view of justice and his fears are overcome, and with Justice’s sense of self not constantly threatened, the problem is removed. They both get to be happy, and well, and cohesive. It empowers Anders to see he’s right and just, and to make hard choices rationally, and find who he is and what he wants, with great assurance and passion, and Justice to retain who he is and stay a spirit, while both help the world.

And anyway it just makes me extremely upset that Anders even with all his conviction and belief, has still had such fear and guilt over his very being drilled into him by the Chantry, that he truly believes he’s the monster in his relationship with Justice, and a danger to everyone around him, and it’s the Chantry the whole time. It always has been.

761 notes - Posted July 27, 2022

#4

831 notes - Posted August 19, 2022

#3

The sudden Dracula Daily surge of people with no real idea what happens in the book beyond dust jacket synopsis is so cool and I love it, and every post makes me remember how I and only one other human in existence have experienced reading Dracula.

Since we were kids, my sister has consistently consumed media of any kind, and then updated me episode or chapter or installment/segment by segment, by drawing me a comic version of events on the fly, while retelling the events. This is such an immersive experience that I cried at the end of FMA more than she did when she read it, and remembered more Q&A topics at the next con. So, for Dracula we are on a flight.

A multiple hour flight. And she goes “I finished Dracula—do you want to hear it?” & I am like “Heck yeah bro,” so she goes in. We aren’t loud because this is a shared space, but our third row seat is empty so that works out perfect, and I can hear fine, so we scrunch up & she starts drawing charts as she goes, from Jonathan on his terrible no good real estate venture, right through to the denouement. It’s a fun story! And I love her comics and comments on events. I’m really into it. And it’s about group strategy sesh over Alice’s situation time in the book, when I realize the guy sitting behind us (compete stranger in his early 30s) is leaned forward and up in his chair, silently watching the comics and trying to subtly listen in too.

So, my sister goes through the whole plot of Dracula scene by scene, and fascinated, I keep checking periodically when I remember, just to see, and the entire time,he keeps listening. For something like the next two hours, I and this guy are both just taking the whole thing in beat by beat like

until finally we reach the end, and my sis says “And yeah, that was Dracula,” and he sits back and relaxes and I peek and he’s just staring into space processing eyes huge and like me too buddy & anyway, yes!!! Dracula was meant to be consumed in OG form but the weirdest methods possible, and also Quincy is the best character.

836 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

#2

Fate players when the arc writer sucks

1,020 notes - Posted July 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I heard Deacon’s “There're other organizations out there. And, in time, I'm sure they're going to spoon-feed you their own patented form of bullshit. Ignore the verbage, and look at what they're doing. What they're asking you to do. What sort of world they'd have you build, and how they're going to pay for it.” one time in 2016 and it’s lived with me for six years.

1,257 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

I know this isn’t a tag game but since people are treating it like one @theinkgirl @tathracyn @sluttyfranzkafka @artianaiolanthe @rabbit-exe @jellydishes

[forerussake]

Ik heb in 2022 1.812 keer iets geplaatst

Dat zijn 653 berichten meer dan 2021!

160 berichten gemaakt (9%)

1.652 berichten gereblogd (91%)

Blogs die ik het meest heb gereblogd:

@arofili

@pangzi

@stupid-lemon-eater

@elenothar

Ik heb 1.787 van mijn berichten getagd in 2022

Slechts 1% van mijn bericht had geen tags

#the deeds that we shall queue - 668 berichten

#artist appreciation - 517 berichten

#tolkien - 516 berichten

#guardian - 297 berichten

#shen wei - 222 berichten

#dmbj - 160 berichten

#lotr - 138 berichten

#zhu yilong - 130 berichten

#zhao yunlan - 125 berichten

#rl - 93 berichten

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#perfectionism is looking at someone else doing a thing and thinking ‘i want that to’ but not daring to do it bc ‘i’ll never be good at it!

Mijn populairste berichten in 2022:

#5

It’s not your fault. It’s fate.

72 notities - Geplaatst 5 december 2022

#4

Het volledige bericht bekijken

78 notities - Geplaatst 3 november 2022

#3

黑袍。。。熊？

Alternate caption: an interesting day at the SID

83 notities - Geplaatst 11 juli 2022

#2

i am perpetually in awe over zhu yilong’s ability to just tear up on command. any actor really but z1l is the undisputed king of it. like, you’ll be watching a random scene he’s in and everything is fine but then things get a little heated and this fucker pulls out the shiny red-rimmed eyes like it’s nothing?????? meanwhile i can’t even cry when i’m genuinely sad about something??????? my man, how? just how?

89 notities - Geplaatst 7 juli 2022

Mijn #1-bericht van 2022

here is (finally!) my entry for @silmaspens DTIYS challenge :D Glorfi vs. the Balrog! I struggled with it a lot for a while, but it was a lot of fun anyway and I learned things too :)

92 notities - Geplaatst 2 maart 2022

Bekijk je jaaroverzicht van 2022 →

[the-tired-commander]

I posted 5,592 times in 2022

That's 3,973 more posts than 2021!

563 posts created (10%)

5,029 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@orrianreaper

@mystery-salad

@ascalonianpicnic

@likemesomesalads

@kerra-and-company

I tagged 1,658 of my posts in 2022

#eod spoilers - 98 posts

#gw2 - 91 posts

#guild wars 2 - 89 posts

#end of dragons spoilers - 76 posts

#thank you again for the ask! - 67 posts

#not gw2 - 63 posts

#damai vespati - 61 posts

#sylvari - 24 posts

#show and tell - 23 posts

#next day reblog - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#also i am fighting off making a joke anytime someone says they drew their very attractive character to ''get them out of their system''

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Honestly my favourite memory of running around the labyrinth is when I was in with a big squad and Steve was being a pest

And the commander just typed in chat

"ive had enough of you

kill"

And that is the only time I have ever felt bad for Steve cause my god did we listen to the commander

129 notes - Posted October 19, 2022

#4

Hi! :D

138 notes - Posted April 21, 2022

#3

Happy Pride!

This has been incredible to work on! There are 170 characters here, with only 5 of them being my own.

See the full post

146 notes - Posted June 24, 2022

#2

dammit i can't find the actual post but last night I saw someone said something about a necromancer commander being a necromander and I could not get it out of my head

necromander tag, its what all the goth commanders deserve

257 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Sylvari Anatomy

By your friendly local plant nerd

I love plants, always have, probably always will. I’m even qualified as a horticulturalist. I also study mycology, with a real interest in lichens. So when I first saw sylvari, I was immediately taken by them. I love them as a concept! That being said, I am not completely savy with the lore of guild wars 2. So a lot of what I will say will be coming from my plant knowledge side instead of my lore knowledge side. So some of this might be completely against stuff said in the game and that’s fine! This is just me having fun.

So let’s talk about plant people.

434 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[saturnsuv]

I posted 3,246 times in 2022

245 posts created (8%)

3,001 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@declanwidow

@reputayswift

@darcyolsson

@officialbogwitch

@dress

hiiii besties 💕💕💕

I tagged 2,264 of my posts in 2022

Only 30% of my posts had no tags

#taylor swift - 685 posts

#sam speaks - 236 posts

#mello - 140 posts

#prev - 27 posts

#oc tag - 18 posts

#sam watches teen wolf - 14 posts

#soph - 12 posts

#scream - 11 posts

#exactly - 10 posts

#oh i love this - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#so i’ll never get experience and i’ll never get a good job and i’ll have gotten my degree for nothing bc i’ll be working at some place that

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

how

our group of friends

87 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

#4

absolutely love talkative cats. cats that go meow. cats that go mrrp. like you are so right sir pls tell me more

92 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

#3

when bleachers said “i’d rather be sad with you than anywhere away from you” and when taylor swift said “don’t want no other shade of blue but you no other sadness in the world would do” and when lorde said “blow all my friendships to sit in hell with you”

461 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

#2

what people need to understand is that i’m walkin fast through the traffic lights

559 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

and when we get mine tv and sparks fly tv and back to december tv and speak now tv and dear john tv and mean tv and story of us tv and never grow up tv and enchanted tv and better than revenge tv and innocent tv and haunted tv and last kiss tv and long live tv and ours tv and if this was a movie tv and superman tv what then. what then

1,085 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

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[enjoytheglow]

Victoria: Mae, it's freezing, does the thermostat really need to be on such a low temperature? Mae (lying on the wooden floor, the back of her hand on her forehead like a 1930s Hollywood actress): I feel like I'm in a furnace. Victoria: You can't lay on the couch? I'm worried I'm going to step on you. Mae: You wouldn't be the first. It's cooler down here. This happens every now and then, since before I met the three of you. It'll be gone in a couple of minutes, it's a withdrawal symptom or something. Victoria: You haven't smoked reefer in years. Mae: ... A long-term withdrawal symptom? Victoria (realising): You're menopausal, Mae. Victor: Pre-menopausal, she's still young. Mae: Thank you, Victor. Lily (to Victor, joking): Suck up. Victoria (to Mae): What you're experiencing are hot flashes. Mae: Call them what you want, they've got nothing to do with my age. Victoria: I give up. Lily, did you want to try? (gestures to Mae) Lily: The only thing I'm certain I understood was Mae's in denial again. Mae: What's with the emphasis on again? Name one time I was in denial. Lily: Jack. Victoria: Your hallucinations. Victor: Your mental and physical wellbeing. Lily: The increased discrimination of minority groups due to the anti-drug campaign you started. Victoria: Reefer in general. Victor: A lot of things, actually. Mae (slightly annoyed): Alright, you've made your point. Victoria: Victor, do you want to try to get through to her? Victor: I... would... rather not. Not because it makes me uncomfortable or anything but... it's a-a woman's thing, I doubt I would be much help. Victoria (to Mae): Well, then I'm really sorry to do this, but it's for you own good. *switches the thermostat off* Mae (whiny): No, I need that! It's a hundred degrees in here! Victor (softly): It's sixty. Mae: What was that? Victor: I-it's sixty degrees. In here. That's why most of us are in sweaters instead of sweating. Mae: Well, it feels like a hundred degrees!! Victor (smiling sympathetically): *giving her an awkward pat on the shoulder* Sorry. *follows Victoria to the dining room* Mae (hurt, reaching out to him): Victor... Mae (once Victor and Victoria are gone, hissing): Lily! *gestures for her to come closer* Lily: Look, Mae, I know it's not what you want to hear but my parents are probably right. I'm sorry that you're having hot flashes. Mae: They're not hot flashes and I'm not pre-menopausal. I'm fit as a fiddle. *tries to sit up, sweats more and lays back down* Lily (standing up to leave): Have fun living in denial in the living room, Mae. Mae: Lily, wait. Lily: *turns around thinking Mae's going to admit it* Mae: ... If you're leaving me here, can you at least get me something from the icebox to cool my forehead? Please? Victoria (from the dining room): No!

@deathmaiidens

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere. 

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him. 

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.” 

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already. 

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it. 

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead. 

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk. 

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?” 

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says. 

You glance at the time. 11:56am. 

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.” 

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.” 

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest. 

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.” 

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings. 

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you. 

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them. 

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed. 

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.  

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately. 

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible. 

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before. 

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks. 

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks. 

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.” 

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase. 

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby. 

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you. 

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you. 

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded. 

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you. 

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you. 

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.” 

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself. 

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long. 

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing. 

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before. 

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.” 

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door. 

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously. 

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm. 

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?” 

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?” 

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest. 

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands? 

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious. 

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him. 

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how. 

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it. 

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.” 

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters. 

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly. 

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.” 

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been. 

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly. 

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too. 

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you. 

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.” 

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly. 

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck. 

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area. 

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.” 

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?” 

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says. 

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.���

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.” 

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.” 

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?” 

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him. 

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back. 

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear. 

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake. 

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

[bringina]

I posted 3,822 times in 2022

9 posts created (0%)

3,813 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 3,162 of my posts in 2022

Only 17% of my posts had no tags

#the owl house - 619 posts

#pokemon - 422 posts

#witch hat atelier - 357 posts

#submas - 348 posts

#ace attorney - 212 posts

#encanto - 195 posts

#the owl house spoilers - 185 posts

#toh spoilers - 184 posts

#mlp - 166 posts

#rwby - 165 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i was so focused on euphoria of ice queendom that for a moment i lived in a world where we werent at the angst and trauma island in volume 9

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37451971

Summary:

Set after fall of Casita but before Mirabel is found. Isabela worries for her sister. Luisa worries about everyone but herself. This will either end very badly, or very well. Somehow, it's both

Or

The movie does not have NEARLY enough Luisa and Isabela interactions so I might as well do it myself.

20 notes - Posted March 1, 2022

#4

the attention to details in this show is truly *chef kiss

47 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

#3

See the full post

61 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

#2

So Owl House Season 2 Finale Aired And Now You Need A New Hyperfixation To Occupy Your Time: Why You Should Read Witch Hat Atelier Manga

Hi! So that Owl House season finale ey :´> how we all holding up. Here's the thing; you can either process your feelings and deal with the show inevitably inching closer to its early ending (now and always, why are you determined to be like this Disney) in a sensible manner OR you can swerve your car into the direction of a new media to fill out the void. I'm here to give ya a tip!

(in reality I'm just hoping to drag more people into this fandom, but I digress). So without further ado let´s gooooooooooooo

Witch Hat Atelier by Kamome Shirahama: The Seal Drawing Witch Kids And Their Disaster Dads

See the full post

93 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Absolutely adore how all of Agott's growth spanning across the whole series is finally culminating into what we've seen of her in past multiple chapters, and I love love love how Coco is at the center of it all, as she always has been.

The Silver Night Procession is, given the, ya know *gestures towards the mess that is Agott's family situation*, extremely important to Agott. In her mind, lot hinges on how she will be able to present herself.

Yeah, we had a Whole Damn Talk about this, but it's not like that desire to prove herself fo her family just poofs out of existence ya know? I'm certain Agott is very much aware her mother will show up any moment, if she isn't already at the parade, and hoping she can do something about impressing her, even if it's not Agott's sole reason for participating anymore.

And yet, the second she sees Coco locked up in terror

See the full post

248 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[footiehoefics]

Chose to be friends, meant to be lovers

gif: @bracedes

Hi guys! I've been working on this fic for a little while. It is the longest I've ever done but I always say the longer the better (lol). Let me know any feedback you have and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it! :) 7.0k words, TW none, Angst/Fluff, tags: @nightlockcornucopia

Y/N

“You know…Mason will probably be there tonight.” your friend said, smirking at you. To be honest you were not paying much attention to whatever she was saying, too concentrated on applying mascara. 

“Y/n did you hear me?” Aliyah said, waving her wand in front of your face. “Stop, you will ruin my makeup” you said giggling. “Sorry, yes I heard you.” You replied, closing the mascara tube and placing it where it belonged. You noticed Aliyah was still staring at you. 

“Can I help you?” you asked confused as to why she was still staring at you. Although you know why she was staring at you. “I said Mason will probably be there.” she said again. “Yea he probably will be so?” you said trying to sound unbothered. 

“Sooo…are you like gonna try and shoot your shot finally?” she said, leaning towards you smiling and waiting for your reaction. You rolled your eyes at her statement. “Will you stop with that please?” you said standing up. “Oh come on Y/n I know you better than anyone I know you’ve been falling for him HARD lately.” She was not wrong, you hated that she was not wrong. 

You tried to distract yourself by searching for an outfit in your closet. “Am I wrong?” Aliyah said, again bringing you back to earth. “Aliyah, please,” you said, more annoyed. She was not wrong; however, you know that the possibility of Mason having feelings for you was near 0. 

You had met Mason through a mutual friend at a party. It turned out you had a lot of friends in common and you started seeing him more often at parties or dinners. Of course, when you met him you knew who he was. You could not avoid the big murals for him around London. That and also, you could not avoid his radiant personality. He was charming, always with a smile on his face, and chatted to everyone. He was just a nice human being, very funny and of course, very dreamy. He was probably the most beautiful man you had ever met. 

At first, you and he were not close. Not because he didn’t try to talk to you. You were very shy. Social interactions, the majority of the time, make you feel awkward. Meeting someone new was hell for you, it was hard for you to just have a natural conversation without feeling self-conscious.  He became really good friends with your friend group, hence why you got more comfortable around him as time went by. You loved the way he would include you in conversations, try and get your opinion at times where you were not really talking. 

Fast forward a year later, you and him talked almost on a daily basis. You two were close but you always refrained yourself a little bit. You had noticed how he was always touchy with everyone, he loved to have his arm around someone while talking, hugging everyone. You knew if that man showed you even the slightest bit of affection, you would crumble. You already liked him physically and his personality. All of that combined with his love language would make you fall harder than you already have. 

It's not that he would never hug you or touch you, but you always told yourself “he does this with everyone, it does not mean anything with you.” Sometimes you did pull away and felt bad after the fact because he would look upset. 

“Y/n! I’m your best friend, why won’t you just admit it to me?” Aliyah asked with a pout. “Because there is nothing to admit, okay? We are friends and that is all we’ll ever be.” You closed your closet door and headed to the bathroom to get changed. 

Once inside, you shut the door, and rested against it, closing your eyes. You didn’t think it was that obvious you liked him. You really thought you were hiding it very well. You didn’t like when people tried to figure out if you like someone or tease you about it. It made you uncomfortable and it also made you act differently towards the person you have feelings for. 

You got dressed and looked at yourself in the mirror. You liked what you saw, and hoped Mason did too. Were you trying to look good for him? Yes. Would he say something about it? Maybe, but he probably would say the same thing about another friend. 

Once you stepped out, Aliyah looked at you smirking. “I think Mr. Mount will like it” she said, wiggling her eyebrows making you laugh. “See you're laughing!” she exclaimed. “I’m laughing because you are so annoying and weird.” You said in between laughs. “Yea right y/n.” 

You stopped again to look in the mirror hanging behind the bedroom door. “Y/n, you look great. I promise. And I mean it, Mason will like it.” Aliyah assured you hugging you from behind. “I love you.” You said smiling at her. “Well, I love you more. Ready then?” “Yes, I’m ready.” Both of you grabbed your purses and headed out to the car. 

Once you arrived at the party, two of your friends were already waiting for you at the door with drinks. “C’mon drink up, you guys have to catch up!” your friend Harry exclaimed. “Oh Jesus” you murmured to yourself, dreading the sting this shot of alcohol would cause.  You grabbed the shot glass, placed it in your mouth and threw your head back to drink it as fast as possible. 

Aliyah wiped her mouth and yelped at the flavor of the tequila. “Okay then, this will be your confidence boost to go talk to him.” She whispered in your ear making you giggle. 

Honestly, alcohol sometimes did that to you. It made you more social but in the mornings, you would end up regretting it. 

You walked inside and the place was packed. It was a house party, although right now it did not look remotely close to a house. You could not spot a single piece of furniture since it was so packed. 

“Oh God, finding everyone here will be hell.” Aliya stated, almost shouting because of the loud music, at you. 

Once you got through the swarm of people, you managed to reach the door that led to the back yard. When you stepped outside, you took in a big breath. It felt like there was no oxygen inside the house from the amount of people in there. 

Lucky you, Ben, Kai, Sophia, and all your other friends were outside drinking and hanging out. “Wow you guys made it through no man’s land” Ben said as he spotted you, Aliyah, Harry, and your other friend Nicolas. You all laughed at his comment. 

You all got settled in the outdoor furniture and started talking, laughing, and drinking. You didn’t spot Mason anywhere, not even when you were walking inside the house. You started looking around, trying to spot him but nothing. After 30 minutes, you decided to go inside to get another drink, well that’s what you told your friend. In reality you wanted to see if you could spot Mason. 

Squished between all those people, you could barely see anything. It started getting hot for you, you felt sweat on your forehead and your neck. You didn’t know if it was someone else's sweat or yours at this point. 

You couldn’t get past everyone to go back outside so you decided to head towards the bathroom. You wanted to tidy up, go back out and go around the house to the backyard. 

Once you reached the bathroom door, you opened it and saw your worst nightmare. Mason. With a girl. Kissing.

“Oh shit, um I’m so sorry!” you panicked and slammed the door closed. You stayed there frozen in your spot for a little bit. You were trying to get that image out of your head, but you couldn’t. Mason was against the sink, his arms firm on the sink. The girl had her arms wrapped around his neck and her lips on his. 

You couldn’t tell who the girl was. I mean how could you, you saw a microsecond of it and shut the door. And the microsecond you saw was her face mushed into his. 

You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the doorknob of the bathroom moving indicating someone was opening the door. You moved away from the door and panicked, not knowing if staying waiting for him and her to come out was better than just running and pretending you never saw anything. 

Mason opened the door and saw the look of panic and shock in your face. He was about to say something when the girl stepped out behind him. 

You couldn’t believe it. You knew Mason was a lady’s guy, everyone knew that. You knew he would hook up with people, it hurt but what could you do? You were just his friend. You knew the type of girls he would hook up with, but you never thought he would go so low as to hook up with her. Alice. 

Alice was the only person in Mason’s friend group that never liked you and she made it clear by showing no interest in you. She would never talk to you, every time you said anything in a group conversation, she would roll her eyes. Aliyah always said it was because Mason was always with you at gatherings, and she felt jealous, part of you thought the same thing but why? You and Mason were just friends. 

You would always tell Mason how Alice never tried with you. He would always say you should try and talk to her to figure out why, but you never did. Well, you intended to but once you wanted to start the conversation, she shut you down. She made you feel like an idiot and said a lot of hurtful things. 

Of course, you told Mason, and he was furious. You told him not to do anything about it. Although not doing anything about it did not mean going out with her. 

It hurt regardless of who the girl was, but the fact that it was Alice hurt even more. He knew how shitty she made you feel. He knew and had witnessed her being crap to you. Yet here he was making out with her. 

“Sorry the bathroom was unlocked so I just opened it, I should’ve knocked.” Your voice was shaky, you felt like the waterfall of tears was threatening to fall. “Yea you should have.” Alice said, annoyed. You looked at her, then at Mason. Mason was red in the face and looked worried. 

You couldn’t bear the sight of them so you started heading towards the front door. 

“Hey Y/n, wait up!” you heard Mason from behind, but you were not in the mood to have that conversation right now. 

You felt him grab your arm once you got to the front door. “Y/n please listen-“

“Mason don’t, sorry I interrupted your time with her.”

“Y/n I’m so sorry, I know it looks bad-“

“You think?” you asked sarcastically, interrupting him again. 

He looked around, opened the door and pulled you outside with him. 

“Listen, I’m sorry, I was trying to take her to the kitchen because-“

“Mason please, stop. I don’t care what you two were going to do. You know, more than anyone, how shit of a person she is, especially with me, and you go and make out with her?” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you were hurt. You know you had no right to be mad at him for making out with someone but, your feelings were taking over your brain. 

“Okay, yes I understand, I know how she is, I promise kissing her was not what I wanted to happen, but why are you getting so mad?” he asked, taken back at your rage. 

“I mean, regardless of who it was, I don’t understand why you are so mad, you’re not my girlfriend.”  he said, making your face drop. 

Ouch. 

“Yea I’m not Mason but I’m your friend, right? And that is a slap in the face. What would you do if you found me making out with Nicolas?” you asked. 

Nicolas was one of your friends that didn’t vibe with Mason at all. You tried to brush it off but sometimes it was too visible. Mason had told you he didn’t like him, and vice versa with Nicolas. You tried to ignore them on that matter and just encourage them to talk to each other to settle their differences.

“That is different Y/n…” Mason replied. 

“Is it though?” you asked, raising your eyebrow.  

You didn’t want to keep harping on the subject. Yes you were not his girlfriend, but you wish you were. Now most definitely you would never be. 

You felt dumb and pathetic. You spent almost 2 hours getting ready to look beautiful and for him to maybe say something only for this to happen.  

You walked away from him to the main gate. You wanted to leave, not only because you saw what you saw but you knew emotions were getting the best of you and tears were filling your eyes. You didn’t want to make a scene at a party. 

You heard footsteps following you, and when you turned around you figured you would see Mason but it was Nicolas. 

“Hey hey where are you going?” he asked. Tears had already fallen and you looked hurt. 

“Hey, I’m um-“ you tried to get the words out but you choked on a sob. 

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Nicolas said, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a hug. 

You hugged him back. You didn’t care if it was him, you were hurt. 

You heard footsteps approaching and you figured it was maybe Aliyah, but you were surprised to see Mason again. 

“Nicolas, can I talk to her alone please.” Mason said sternly. 

Nicolas looked at you, then at him, and back at you. He put two and two together, realizing he was the person who hurt you. 

“What the fuck did you Mason?” Nicolas asked angrily. 

“It’s none of your fucking business, okay? I need to talk to Y/n, alone, so please fuck off.” Mason replied stone cold. 

You didn’t want this to get more heated so you intervened. 

“Stop, okay? I’m fine, I’ll just go home-“

“I’ll drop you off” Nicolas interrupted you, still not glancing away from Mason. 

“I think it’s better if I do, we need to talk-“ Mason tried to say. 

“I’m getting an uber so stop, both of you. I’m ordering it right now.” You said pulling out your phone not wanting to entertain any more bullshit. 

“I’ll wait here with you for the uber.” Mason stated 

“Me too.” Nicolas said, turning to you.

You rolled your eyes at how childish they were being. You waited about 10 minutes for your uber. 10 awkward minutes of silence. Once you finally saw a car approaching the house, you were grateful. 

You didn’t hug either of them goodbye, you just got in and left. 

Mason

Mason did not want to be at the party. He was ready to call it an early night, maybe ring you and ask if you wanted to go to his to watch a movie and order food. 

He was not in the mood to drink, party and definitely not in the mood to take care of drunk friends. He had a rough week filled with physios and meetings. 

However, Woody ended up convincing him. How? By stating you were going. Mason had developed feelings for you, this had been going on for a while, now that you two were much closer. 

He loved everything about you, but he couldn’t help but notice you sometimes pushed him away a bit. He didn’t know why, he had never given you a reason to. He tried to brush it off, but now that you two always talked and would always hang out, he wanted nothing more than to be more touchy with you and you resisted it sometimes. He knew you didn’t feel the same way, and it hurt him. 

Once at the party, Mason started scanning the sea of people to see if he could spot you. He couldn’t find you anywhere, so he went outside where all his friends were and asked Sophia if she had seen you. 

“No she’s not here yet, I think she and Aliyah were on their way.” She responded smiling. 

Mason thanked her and went back inside. He spotted Woody with some girls, of course. Once Woody saw Mason, he approached him smiling. “Mate I need your help.” Woody pleaded. “What do you want?” “I met this girl, she’s the one in the blue navy dress, see?” Mason moved his head a bit to see who she was. “Yea I see, what do you want me to do?” Mason asked, confused. “I need you to take Alice somewhere else, I want to be alone with her but she came with Alice so they are attached to the hip.” Mason rolled his eyes. “Mason c’mon, I’m not asking you to do anything with her I know you are waiting for your princess.” Woody said, teasing Mason, making him smile. “I’ll take her to the kitchen so she can talk to other people but if she comes back, it’s not my fault.”  Mason stated, moving towards Alice. 

Alice was always very flirty with Mason, and a lot of his friends knew that she had feelings for him. He didn’t want her to get the wrong impression. 

“Hey Alice, why don’t we go to the kitchen and get a drink?” Mason asked, immediately regretting it. She was visibly drunk, and he had just offered to give her even more alcohol. “Masey, hey of course!” she slurred. 

Alice grabbed his hand and dragged him to the kitchen where all the mixers and bottles were. She poured a drink for her and him with way too much alcohol. Mason was trying to get her to talk to everyone, but she was being very touchy with him. Grabbing his hand, rubbing the back of his neck when they were talking to someone else. He wished it was you doing that, not her. 

Shit. If you saw him right now with Alice all touchy and handsy, he knew you would get mad. He knew you despised her, and she despised you. 

Alice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Mason, can we go to the bathroom?” Hell no he thought. “Um, what do you need? Are you going to be sick?” he asked nervously. “Yea” she said, almost hanging from him. Mason sighed and agreed. He was almost carrying her to the bathroom. He didn’t want her to be sick in front of everyone. He didn’t like her, but he had to be a good person. 

Once inside the bathroom, Mason closed the door without locking it. 

“Okay, do you want me to hold your hair or do you have like a pony tail so your hair doesn’t get dirty?” he asked, and once he turned around he saw Alice just smirking at him. 

“Mase, seriously?” she said, almost laughing. 

Mason gulped. He didn’t want to be in this situation right now. 

“You know something I’ve always wanted to ask you?”

Mason looked nervous and confused. 

“Do you find me attractive?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him and getting closer. 

“I mean, every girl is beautiful.” He said. 

Alice was very pretty, Mason knew that. But he never saw her as something else. Especially now that he had feelings for you. 

Alice got closer to him, and he backed away but stopped once he reached the sink. His hands were firm on the sink not wanting to do anything that might look like something else to her. 

“Mase c’mon, aren’t you like a lady’s man?” she asked, smirking. She was now closer, her hand around his neck.

He didn’t know what to do. He could perfectly smell the mix of perfume and alcohol. 

Without hesitation she leaned in and kissed him. He was taken back and didn’t stop it. He was frozen but the kiss didn’t last long. 

Someone came in and swung the bathroom door open. Mason pulled away quickly, trying to compose himself. Why did he just let her do that? Alice just pulled away laughing. 

Mason rolled his eyes at her. He grabbed the doorknob to open the door. 

Once he opened the door, he saw you. He didn’t know it had been you who had walked in just now. He was as shocked as you were. 

“Sorry the bathroom was unlocked so I just opened it, I should’ve knocked.” you said with a shaky voice. 

Mason felt horrible. He knew what he did was wrong. He wasn’t thinking about how you would feel at that moment, but to be fair he couldn’t think about anything. His mind froze. 

Alice stepped out of the bathroom a second later. “Yea you should have” Alice said, pulling out her lip-gloss from her purse and reapplying it. 

Mason saw you walking away from the scene and shouted at you to wait up. He wanted to explain everything. You wouldn’t stop walking and once he saw you reach the front door, he grabbed your arm to stop you. 

“Y/n please listen-“ he tried to say

“Mason don’t, sorry I interrupted your time with her.”

“Y/n I’m so sorry, I know it looks bad-“

“You think?” she interrupted him again . 

He looked around, opened the door and pulled you outside with him. 

“Listen, I’m sorry, I was trying to take her to the kitchen because-“

“Mason please, stop. I don’t care what you two were going to do. You know, more than anyone, how shit of a person she is, especially with me, and you go and make out with her?” you said, raising your voice. 

Mason knew what he did was bad, but he didn’t think you get this pissed off and emotional about it. Part of him hoped it was because there were some feelings involved but he didn’t know. 

“Okay, yes I understand, I know how she is, I promise kissing her was not what I wanted to happen, but why are you getting so mad?” he asked, taken back at your rage. 

“I mean, regardless of who it was, I don’t understand why you are so mad, you’re not my girlfriend.”  he said, making your face drop. 

He regretted saying it instantly. He didn’t mean for it to sound bitchy. He just wanted to get to the bottom of it. He wanted to know what you felt. Did you have feelings for him the same way he did with you?

“Yea I’m not Mason but I’m your friend, right? And that is a slap in the face. What would you do if you found me making out with Nicolas?” you asked. 

Mason hated him. Why? He knew and he could tell he had feelings for you. He also hated the fact that he had more confidence with you. Ever since Mason met him, they didn’t like each other but it was more of an unspoken thing. 

“That is different Y/n…” Mason replied. 

“Is it though?” you asked, raising your eyebrow at Mason. 

Y/N

Once you thanked your uber, you got out of the car and rushed to your front door. The whole drive back to your place your sobs were almost coming out of your mouth. 

You don’t know who you were madder at, him or yourself. 

Why on earth did you think he could feel the same way you did about him? Why? You were just friends. He was him. He was way out of your league. Why were you dumb enough to think you could end up with someone like him? 

All these thoughts plagued your mind while you were taking your makeup off. Removing the makeup revealed the redness on your face from crying. 

You washed your face to try and compose yourself, but all you could think about was that horrible image of Mason kissing her. 

He was right, you weren’t his girlfriend so why were you so mad? Alice is a good reason, but you were more jealous than mad. But how the hell would you tell him “Oh yea I’m mad because it’s not me you’re kissing, it’s her.”

After doing your skin care, you decided to just go to bed and try to get some sleep. At the end of the day, you could not let this ruin your life. It’s just a boy, that’s what you told yourself the whole night “it’s just a boy”, the problem was he was the perfect one. 

The next day, you were thankful you left early from the party. You were not in the mood to deal with a hangover. 

You did your normal morning routine, but also went in and checked on Aliyah. You knocked on her door, no answer. You knocked again, nothing. 

You opened the door and saw a sight you never thought you would see. Aliyah and a guy in her bed. Thankfully, they were covered, and nothing was out in the air. You giggled to yourself and closed the door. 

It was a free day so you decided to clean up a bit around the apartment and make yourself a yummy breakfast. After an hour had passed, Aliyah and the guy came out of their room. Her cheeks were bright pink and you could tell the guy felt awkward, scratching the back of neck. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “Oh, shut up y/n” Aliya said, rolling her eyes. You laughed more and introduced yourself to the guy whose name was Andrew. “Well, it is nice to meet you, I cleaned up a bit around because I knew we had a guest over.” You said trying to tease Aliyah and making her laugh. 

They said their goodbyes and both of you sat down on the living room sofa. “Good night then?” you asked, taking a sip of your tea and raising your eyebrows. “Amazing” Aliyah responded, making you chuckle. 

“What about you? Nicolas said you left kind of early, what happened?” It all came back to you; all of the events from the night before. You had done a pretty good job at hiding it and not thinking much about it but now that Aliyah asked you couldn’t hide it anymore. 

You opened your mouth to say something but were quickly cut off with tears pouring out of your eyes. “Oh honey! What happened?” Aliyah asked now concerned and pulled you in a hug. You hugged her back tightly, just wanting to cry the emotions out. 

Once you had cried for a bit, you pulled away and tried to articulate everything. 

You told Aliyah everything. How she had always been right in saying you had feelings for him, how you dressed up yesterday for him, how you saw him kissing Alice, what he said to you afterwards and how mad you were at yourself for being so pathetic. 

“Hey stop it! You are not pathetic! You are allowed to feel sort of betrayed by him. And, you are allowed to have feelings for him and try to impress him. There is nothing wrong with that.” She said comforting you, rubbing your arm. 

“Babe, why didn’t you tell me when it happened? I would’ve come home with you and talked about it.” “No, no, I just wanted to be alone. Nicolas found me crying and I didn’t tell him either but he knew it had something to do with Mason and was mad.” You said remembering Nicolas had waited for you to get in the uber as well. 

“I mean duh, of course he would be mad. He has feelings for you.” Aliyah said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What?” you asked, confused. “What?” “You just said he has feelings for me?” Aliya rolled her eyes at your question. “You are so naïve sometimes, oh my God.” “Aliyah, he has never said anything.” “I mean he doesn’t have to, it’s obvious. Also, why do you think he doesn’t really vibe with Mason?” Everything Aliyah was saying started making sense. “I guess it could be true…?” 

Both of you spent the day on the sofa catching up on a series you started watching the week prior. You were both caught up on it, but the doorbell made you both look at each other. “Did you order anything?” you asked, thinking maybe she had ordered some food and it was the food delivery guy. Aliyah stood up to open up and replied with a no. 

Once she opened the front door, you both saw Nicolas standing there with some flowers. 

“Hello you!” Aliya said, hugging him. “How was your night?” he said, raising his eyebrows, he clearly knew what Aliya had been up to. “Well, obviously better than yours.” She said laughing. 

Nicolas stepped in the apartment and saw you curled up in the sofa, making his heart melt. “Hey Nic” you said smiling, standing up to greet him. He smiled and hugged you. “Whose are these for?” you asked confused. “Well, um they are for you.” He said shyly. You could see Aliya had that “I told you” look on her face. 

“I’m going to go take a shower and leave you guys” Aliyah stated rushing back upstairs to her room to give you both privacy. 

“Oh wow, why?” you asked, smiling a little. “Well, I wanted you to feel better after last night.” You started blushing. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You took the flowers and placed them on the kitchen counter. “I’m going to add water and put them in a vase, thank you.” “No worries.” 

You offered him some tea, he accepted and both of you sat in the living room talking. 

You liked Nicolas, he had been your friend since your first year of college. But you never saw him as something else. Honestly, maybe you should. However, you didn’t want it to turn into something just because you want to get over Mason. You respected him enough to not do that to him. Once you chatted for about an hour, you thanked him again for the flowers and said your goodbyes.  

You cleared up the tea mugs and were about to go upstairs until the doorbell rang again. 

You opened the door, and this was a sight you were not expecting to see. Mason. With flowers in his hand and a card. 

You both just stood there for a moment without saying anything, frankly you didn’t know what to say. He broke the silence, “Can I come in?” he asked. 

You stepped out of the way so he could come in. Once you both reached the living room and kitchen area you immediately regretted letting him in. The flowers Nicolas brought you were still on the kitchen counter in full display. 

Mason stopped in his tracks, taken back. His mind had a million thoughts going through his head. Were they yours or Aliyah’s? If they were yours, who gave them to you? 

“Did someone beat me to it?” he said, chuckling a bit, trying to cut the tension. He was hoping you would answer they were not yours, but his face dropped when you answered. “Um, kind of” you said, chuckling nervously. “Oh, I thought they might have been Aliyah's.” he said, whispering the last part to himself. 

“Can I ask, whose are they from?” Mason asked, dreading the answer. “Nicolas.” You spoke. 

This made Mason’s blood boil. Why would Nicolas bring you flowers? What did he want from you? Mason placed the flowers and the card on the kitchen counter. 

“Why did he bring you flowers?” he asked, annoyed. This now annoyed you. You didn’t owe him any explanation, especially after last night. 

“Why do you care?” you snapped. Mason looked at you with rage. “Just, because” he replied, trying to keep his voice calm. 

“Oh, well you’re not my boyfriend so why are you so mad?” you asked, satisfied with giving him a bit of his own medicine. 

All this tension had even made both of you forget his flowers and the reasoning behind it. Mason’s face dropped, and it gave you a weird feeling in your tummy. You didn’t want to hurt him, but after last night and how he was being right now he deserved it. 

“You know what, I came here to apologize and explain what happened last night but honestly fucking forget it.” He said scratching the back of neck frustrated with the whole situation. He didn’t say anything else and just left. 

You don’t know why you wanted to cry. You knew you hurt him with that comment, but he hurt you too. 

You went upstairs and instead of going straight to your bed, you knocked on Aliyah’s door. “Come in!” you heard from the other side of the door. 

You stepped in the room with tears in your eyes. “What the fuck happened? I thought it was a good thing what Nicolas did?” She pulled you in a hug yet again trying to comfort you. 

“Fuck, I feel so lame I’m crying over a boy.” You said sniffing and pulling away from her. You wiped the tears from your face. “Mason came by after Nicolas left.” “What!? What did he say?”

“Not much, he brought me flowers and a card as well, he saw the flowers Nicolas bought for me and got annoyed, started asking who gave them to me and I said Nic and he got even more annoyed, and then I said the same comment he told me yesterday, got mad and left.” You said, grabbing a Kleenex that Aliyah handed to you. 

“Babe this is like a rom com,” Aliyah said, chuckling to herself. “you’re like in a love triangle who would’ve thought.” She said teasingly trying to cheer you up. “C’mon Aliyah.” “Y/n I’m serious! Why else would Mason be mad that Nic got you flowers? They despise each other because they both have feelings for you. Damn, how are you so smart yet so naive?” she asked herself. 

You thought about it for a second, it made sense but at the same time why would Mason have feelings for you. 

“Wait, did you read the card?” Aliyah said, interrupting your thoughts. 

“No, it’s downstairs.” You said. Aliyah jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to go and get the card. She came back panting from running up the stairs. “Okay well then, read it, maybe it will give you more clarity.” She said handing the card to you. 

You opened the card and saw Mason’s handwriting.

“I don’t even know how to start a letter, so don’t laugh at me. 

I’m so sorry about last night. I would never do something to hurt you like I did last night. Your feelings are more important to me than her or anybody else. I’m sorry for getting defensive last night, you had every right to be mad and I shouldn’t have said what I said, it was low of me. 

You’re my friend and I owe you this apology. Sometimes I wish we were more than that. I wish it had been you I was kissing. I wish you would feel the same way. But if that is not the case then, being your friend and being by your side is enough.

Love,

Mase”

“What does it say?” Aliyah said, curious as to why it left you speechless. 

“He…he has feelings for me” you said in disbelief, almost tearing up again, not looking up. 

“y/n! I told you! I fucking told you! Wow I’m like a genius at reading people” Aliyah was proud of herself. 

You tilt your head up to look at her, with tears brimming your eyes. 

“No, no, no. We are not doing this again. You are not going to cry. You are going to get ready, go to his place and talk to him and tell him you feel the same way.” 

“But-“ you tried to say. 

“Nope, I don’t care, c’mon get up.” Aliyah said pulling your hand so you would get up her bed. 

“But I said something hurtful-“ 

“And he did too, okay? You both did, and you will work It out. Try and work it out.” 

That was exactly what you needed to hear. You left her bedroom to go get ready and drive to Mason’s place. 

Once you put on a hoodie, shoes and got your purse and keys you were heading to Meson’s house. The drive to his house was a bit long, making you start overthinking everything. Maybe this seemed like a good idea 20 minutes ago, but now? What if he’s hurt and you can’t make him forgive you?

You arrived at his house and the nerves started getting bad and settling in your tummy.

You knocked on the door, waiting for him to open up. You heard footsteps approaching the door. There he was, in joggers and a hoodie, with a confused look on his face. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. 

You hold up the card, again tears forming in your eyes. 

Mason glanced at the card, and then back at you. 

You reached out for him, and he smiled. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a hug. You both stayed there hugging for what felt like forever. You were crying, again. “Fuck, this like the 3rd time I’m crying today.” You said sniffing, making Mason giggle. 

He pulled away, letting you into his house. 

He grabbed your hand and took you to the living room. Both of you sat down and turned slightly so you could look at each other. 

“I’m sorry Mase-“

“Don’t, you don’t have to apologize.  I kind of deserved that either way.” He said cutting you off. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m still not sorry about it.” You said wiping the remaining tears on your cheeks. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had feelings for me, Mase?” you asked. 

“I feared being rejected by you. I didn’t want to risk losing our friendship. I was scared that if by some miracle you did feel the same way, my lifestyle would be too much, and it wouldn’t work. I was scared by a lot of things. I also, I feel like you sometimes pushed me away a bit. And as for last night, I was trying to be a good wingman to Woody and it backfired so hard. I just froze when she started getting closer to me.” He said not looking at you, almost as if he was ashamed about it. 

“I forgive you.” You said, grabbing his hand. 

“Mase, I always had feelings for you. I pushed you away because I knew if I didn’t, I would just be falling more and more for you. I was also scared of you rejecting me. You know, you are who you are and have this amazing life and everyone loves you, and I’m just me. I didn’t think you would ever feel the same way about me.” You said choking up. 

“We really need to communicate better, fucking hell.” He said, making you both giggle. 

He placed a hand on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. 

“How can I not fall for you?” he said whispering. 

Your heart melted and just leaned your head against his palm making him smile. “I’m too awkward to even admit all of this to you.” You said smiling. He chuckled. 

He started leaning in more and more, your noses bumping into each other. You finally closed the gap between you both and kissed him. 

You had always imagined this moment. Ever since you met him, and so did he. 

Your lips were moving in sync and it was the best feeling in the world. You didn’t want it to end. You both pulled away and rested your forehead together. 

“You know I wish you would see yourself the way I see you.” He said whispering. 

“Mase…” you said, almost tearing up again. 

“Don’t bring the water falls again,” he said giggling. 

You both embraced each other the whole night. Explaining everything that had happened the night before and that same morning. 

“I don’t want to ruin the moment.” You said looking up at him. 

“Oh uh…” Mason replied, looking down at you. 

“I should talk to Nicolas Mase. I owe it to him.” You said afraid of what he would think. 

Mason thought about it for a second. As much as he didn’t like him, he knew you were right. On the positive side Nicolas would know it was him you wanted and not Nicolas. 

“Can I ask you something?” Mason said not looking at you. 

“Yes of course.” “Did you ever had feelings for him?”, you chuckled at Mason’s jealousness. “No Mase, never.” You got up a bit to be face to face, and gave him a little kiss to assure him you never did. 

“I promise, I just need him to know how I feel about you and to say sorry if he thought there was something else between him and I.” 

“I know, I trust you.” He said, looking at you now. 

“But that can wait,” he got up from the sofa, and reached his hand out for you. 

“Stay here today, with me?”  he asked, giving you puppy eyes. 

“Okay you said smiling.” 

Both of you got ready for bed, he had given you one of his t-shirts and boxers for you to sleep in. 

Before falling asleep and getting into bed with him, you gave a quick text to Aliyah.

You both got under the covers and cuddled each other. The night was filled with kisses, Mason whispering sweet things, and you blushing. This was heaven for both of you, and what you had craved for so long. 

[sugar-plum-writer]

Fashion Icon

Paring: JJK!men x Fem!Reader; Gojo x Fem!Reader; Sukuna x Fem!Reader; Toji x Fem!Reader Tags: Fem!Reader; One-Shot; reader is a fashion icon!; Light comedy; slight mention of violence; Suggestive; Slight!NSFW A/n: I thought it would be fun! so I wrote this one shot, I personally love fashion~ and I though the scenarios would be fun! This might end up being my longest multiple one-shot

[P.S. If ya'll want another oneshot of this~ feel free to comment! Heart and reblog for motivation lols haha!]

"Money, money, money - Must be funny In the rich man's world, Money, money, money- Always sunny In the rich man's world."

Senario-1 [Gojo]

"It's Valentino!"

Gojo had to agree it's not everyday to see something like this, to be called like this- he would have never come if anyone or any of his ex's had called him like this the way you had done.

He also would have never imagined himself doing what he was doing right now. Destroying the cruse while you stood looking at your nails which you had just gotten done. You were the one who was supposed to fight this curse not him.

"Gojo Honey you done?", cocking your head to the side you looked at him

"Yeah all done~ this was nothing", with a light chuckle he walked towards you

"I love you thank you so much~", giving him a light kiss you smiled

It was ridiculous on so many levels- 15 minutes ago he was sitting in his home, drinking tea as he was chatting about his mission. The next thing he knew he got a call from you

"Y/n darling what's the matter? It's rare for you to call like this", with a light chuckle he smirked

"I need you to fight a curse for me dear"

".....", he could not believe his ears

"....What? You need me to fight...a curse?" he was amused to say the least

"Yes right now~"

"..why? Is everything okay? you are not hurt are you?"

Sure he was the strongest but your strength was not something to joke about. You were a top of the line Grade-1 sorcerer after all your mission success rate? 100%. He still remembers the way you held your own against a special grade curse until he arrived when everyone else was afraid.

Blood dripping, fierce eyes, as you fought the curse- seeing you like that- it was so hot that he forgot how to breathe for a moment

"I am fine, it's just I cannot fight the curse!"

".....Huh....?", he was dumbstruck

"Honey I am wearing Valentino, I don't want to ruin my heels the curse is not-", you paused

"Not expensive enough for me to walk all over it" you cockily cooed and clicked your tongue

"Not expensive enough huh? I didn't know curses had a price", he bursted out laughing

"If the curse had some channel perfume sprayed on it- I would have considered ruining my nails over it but- it's not"

Hearing your tone he could imagine the light smug expression on your face- the arrogance of yours, the sassy attitude, confidence- he would never tell you, but- when you acted like this it was hot- after all it stroked his ego knowing- only he could indulge you.

You did not even had to force it- it just came naturally to you

Not that he did not like it when you were sweet, all caring, etc it's just it gave him a rush- it felt exclusive

"The poor curse must be crying hearing your words love", grabbing his coat from the sofa he made his way out, "How arrogant eh?" his tone carried an element of playfulness

"Well as your lover such arrogance suits me does it not?", you laughed

"Of course, it suits you very well~ I'll be there in 2 minutes"

"Alright! I'll buy some sweets for you in the mean time honey! Love you!"

And with that the phone call ended- when he arrived at the location the people were stunned to say the least

"Mr. Gojo why are you here?", the person in-charge walked towards him

"My girl said the curse is not expensive enough for her to deal with it", nonchalantly he said as if it was obvious

"...huh..?", the man looked stunned so did the people around him

"Yeah", smirking he looked at them

"It's Valentino as she said"

[Sukuna]

If anyone saw him like this they would faint, even in the Heian era he would have never done this- not even for his concubines or anyone.

To think right now after 1000's of years, having seen everything their is to see- all tricks and seduction known to ever exist, he still fell for you not even in his wildest dreams he would have imagined doing what he was right now.

"Sukuna honey carry me", your gaze was serious as you stood looking at him

"Are you serious?" he looked back into your eyes

"Yes. Right now"

How did such a situation happened? Well 1 hour ago you and Sukuna had decided to go out, everything was going well as the day progressed, he was pleased and so were you.

Wining, dining, fooling around, shopping and overall just having fun

The next thing you knew a curse jumped out and tried to attack you and him resulting it getting mutilated and destroyed by Sukuna. You felt a bit bad seeing in what terrible shape the curse was in.

"Fucking pest, how annoying", with an annoyed expression he rolled his eyes

"Y/n let's continue", He held his hand out for you to take

"Sukuna, honey, I cannot walk", you looked at him with a serious gaze

"....huh...?", his expression changed to confusion, "Why?"

"I am wearing Valentino", clicking your tongue you looked at him with a cocky expression, "I cannot walk over this curse ruining these shoes"

"......", for the first time in his life he was speechless and stunned

'Is this woman serious?'

"This curse is not worthy to be stepped over with Valentino shoes", with a straight face you spoke as if it was obvious, "It's common sense"

"hah!", he bursted out laughing, "Are you serious right now doll?", with a smirk he looked at you

"Yes and I order you to carry me", flipping your hair you looked at him

"Really?", cockily he leaned in

"Of course isn't it obvious? Don't you know who you're dealing with?", without backing away you leaned in too not breaking away eye-contact

No one- no woman in his life spoke to him the way you did, the way you demanded him and ordered him to do things for you.

Even his concubines never demanded him anything, and if they did- they always bowed their heads low.

Even geishas, all those women he had been with none of them came close to you and your attitude. And deep down he liked it- it was fun and entertaining.

Your listened to him but had your own edge- an edge that kept him hooked

A woman like you was rare- a fine bottle of Sake meant to be enjoyed and savored- and kept close for to find another like you would take centuries.

If he had you as his concubine in the Heian era- his days would be a lot better and lively. He would have bought you all you wanted as he did now.

You were expensive, exclusive and only he could afford you. Your whims were his to entertain just as you entertained him.

"Alright doll", shaking his head with a smirk he swept you off your feet and carried you in his arms bridal style

"Thank you darling~", wrapping your arms around him you gave him a light kiss as a reward, "You are the best!"

"I know. I am", with a light chuckle he kissed you passionately and your lipstick stain lingered on his lips

Entering the restaurant all eyes were on you two, he could could have just carried you a bit, but no- he carried you all the way to the table as you fixed your lipstick using your hand-mirror. It was quite a scene.

"It's Valentino huh?"

[Toji]

Toji never cared about his life, drinking and gambling away all his money- he had nothing to live for after all. He was only alive till now because he had decided to not die yet.

He was smart, highly intelligent but it did not matter to him, he just did- what he wanted.

But everything changed when he met you, he tried to treat you just as a fling- another one to add to his list, but, you were different.

You did not fall for his honeyed words, your confidence, your attitude, it all screamed power.

Sure you were nice, sweet, and caring but at the same time- you also had self-respect and put him in his place.

Every date you dressed up well in tip-top shape, which made him want to look good as he walked with you hence he changed his wardrobe. Kept himself more proper, put more effort into himself.

All girls and women he dated tried to change him, format him, etc- or liked the so called bad-boy troupe which he played very well.

But you- you did none of that, you dated him as he was unbothered.

Rather than him feeling that you were a fling- you made him feel that he was a fling. Not even kissing him, nothing, when he first met you- you literally shifted the table thinking he was a random stranger.

It hurt his ego, after all no matter how shabby he looked women swooned over him. But you had standards.

You did not need his validation, rather than you chasing him- you made him want to chase you, to know where you are, what you are doing etc

You made him get his shit together to be with you. Previously he had no reason but now he did- you

You were his dream girl

And one thing he knew about you was your taste was fucking expensive.

Whatever you picked in a store somehow- just somehow you picked expensive items without even knowing or looking at the price tag

And for that what was he gonna do? say no? Of course not. What he was going to do is buy you more expensive things.

"Toji honey are you sure?", you looked at him eyebrows raised

"I am, when have I ever not been sure", he smirked holding 5 shopping bags from Valentino

"Are....these real?" in disbelief you looked at the bags

"Just take it girl", tossing you the bags as if it was nothing he went and sat on the couch sipping his beer

"Wait...these shoes...are these the ones I was chatting about the other day with my friends?", wide eyed you looked at him

"Yeah seeing you looking at them I thought you wanted it?", smugly he smiled grinning

"No but ahhhh!!! I love them so much!!", tossing your flipflops aside you immediately wore the heels

"How does it look?" strutting you spun a bit showing off your nice legs

"I love you so much! to think you got me something so nice darling....", hugging him tight you beamed happily your eyes shone so bright

"Gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, what can I say eh?", he kissed you, "As long as you like it, it's all worth it"

"Oh my gosh! It's like a dream!", you kissed him back wrapping your hands around his neck making him smirk and caress your waist

"Well I can make you dream- a dream so good", kissing your neck he whispered, "Valentino would seem like reality darling"

Link to Masterlist!

[landoslvr]

MRS CLARKEY | g. clarke

summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs clarkey'. [social media AU.]

pairing: fem!reader x george clarke

faceclaim: steph hui

notes: first piece for mrs george out of the wag universe. steph is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs clarkey, hopefully you like it! this is the longest one I've done so far.. definitely want to do a fic for their first meeting and for the useless hotline podcast- maybe even the ski trip!

liked by user, user and 37,923 others

yourinstagram happy halloween 💋💋

view all 281 comments

user you're literally so hot y/n

user I want to be you so bad

user how can I look like that

user jeez u flexible or something baby?

user the dress? the hair? the makeup??? unreal

yourinstagram thank you!! I did it myself xxx

user shes godly

user have fun tonight!!

user she's the only girl I know to have an impromptu photoshoot and then go out drinking

yourinstagram gotta take the outfit for a spin!!!

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 58,283 others

georgeclarkeey you should've seen the other guy!

view all 198 comments

user george wth

user its the vomit on the cheerleading outfit for me

chrismd10 looking good mate

wroetoshaw nice eyebrow....... eyebrow singular

georgeclarkeey yes I got that thank you

user AS IF Y/N FOUND HIM ON HER NIGHT OUT

user I KNOW!! I came from her tweets after everyone tagging this guy

chrismd10 you getting referred to as 'this guy' on your own post is so funny to me

georgeclarkeey well, you're huge aren't you?

imallexx loving the new look mate

user waiting for y/n to join the comments 🫣

user me too 😶😶

yourinstagram its great to know what you look like with both of your eyebrows george! a pleasure to have met you, despite the circumstances...

georgeclarkeey my left eyebrow was too intimidated by seeing betty boop in the flesh it ran away!

user my heart 😭

liked by georgeclarkeey, max_balegde and 37,192 others

yourinstagram went on the useless hotline podcast this week to talk about me saving the george clarke! thank you very much for having me boys 🤍

view all 302 comments

user she's just so pretty

user as if model queen y/n saved youtuber george clarke 😭 not over that at all

georgeclarkeey always a pleasure, you're welcome back anytime you feel like scraping me off of the pavement

yourinstagram anytime you need me, I'll be there to call the ambulance

user LOVE that coat

georgeclarkeey also feeling something.. or someone.. is missing from this post?

yourinstagram idk what you want from me here clarke

max_balegde ahhhhhh!!!!!! such a pleasure to meet the woman that singlehandedly saved my co-host from death <3 thanks so much for coming on, martini besties for life now

yourinstagram call me anytime you need multiple olives!!!

max_balegde three olives, extra dry!!

user stop I hope they all stay friends 😭

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 39,219 others

yourinstagram casual 'saved your life/face' dinner post

view all 331 comments

user nahhhhhhhhh because this is a date

user y/n looks so good 😭😭

user lets not ignore George Clarke wearing something other than a t-shirt

chrismd10 impressed you managed to get him in slacks!

georgeclarkeey your mum brought them for me

user THAT DRESS

user I just wanna be you y/n

user George has major cake its not funny

max_balegde literally should be criminal

georgeclarkeey you saved my life I am eternally grateful

yourinstagram 👽👽👽

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 40,938 others

yourinstagram visiting the mountain tops with some new friends x

view all 370 comments

user bitch we know that's george clarkey, fess up

max_balegde the love of my life really tbh, you look sooooo good

yourinstagram max I'll cry

user drop the link for the jackets!!

user that is george clarke's watch missy

user so you just so happen to be on a ski trip at the same time at george and his friends?????????? coincidence? I think NOT

user I know george is using ever fibre of his being not to comment on this right now

liked by yourinstagrm, miniminter and 59,902 others

georgeclarkeey there's 'snow' way it's this cold in the mountains

view all 286 comments

user Y/N TAKE OF THE SKI MASK COWARD

user we literally know it's her

chrismd10 handsome fellas

user literally just tell us you're dating guys

wroetoshaw high altitude my friend

user love these pics of the boys together

arthurtv distinguished skiers and snowboarders

charliehutchens really good ones too

user do you think y/n had to throw her phone out of her hotel room to stop herself from commenting?

user yes, yes I do

liked by georgeclarkeey, wroetoshaw and 37,981 others

yourinstagram out and about ✈️🗺️

view all 320 comments

user should we tell y/n that she posted a picture of George in the 4th slide and then proceeded to cut his head out of the 6th one????

user let her live in peace I guess

user wow no one is immune to stupidity these days 😭

user can't believe they took her so young

georgeclarkeey you're not getting that poster back

yourinstagram if you dont return my harry styles poster I will sue

georgeclarkeey I live with a lawyer, so good luck with that darling

user DARLING???? LITERALLY JUST PUNCH ME IN THE FACE NEXT TIME GEORGE

liked by yourinstagram, stephentries and 61,192 others

georgeclarkeey chris informed us that you all know we're dating so no more discreet photo dumps I guess?

view all 401 comments

user WAR IS OVERRRRRR

user quick everyone act like we didn't see this shit coming

user the way he tried to do her dirty in the last 3 pics but he literally can't

user she's just so pretty

user I wanna be her

max_balegde mrs clarkey!!!!!!

yourinstagram !!!!!

chrismd10 you're so welcome mate

user she's so gorgeous

user kills me

user george x y/n girlies won today

yourinstagram 🤍🤍🤍 love you big stupid idiot 🤍🤍🤍 once I posted the invisalign it was over..

georgeclarkeey guys gotta eat

liked by georgeclarkeey, arthurfhill and 43,938 others

yourinstagram casual 'I can finally post my boyfriend' post!!!!

view all 493 comments

user guys I love today

user this makes me so happy

chrismd10 the power of drunken lime bike rides!

yourinstagram thank you lime bikes

user the alien picture kills me

max_balegde can't wait to have you back on the pod as mrs clarkey

yourinstagram a promotion, for me???

user george is so cute, I envy y/n!

arthurtv it's about time tbh

user I've been waiting for this one

georgeclarkeey was worth losing half of an eyebrow I guess

yourinstagram maybe the eyebrows were the friends we made along the way?