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#lets not even go back to 2016-17
evermoredeluxe · 9 months
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swifties haven’t seen taylor in 24 hours *everyone is restless and discourse ensues*
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xtreklx · 1 year
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Low ~ Raphael x reader
One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader Word count: 3.7k Warnings: cursing, mature themes, and slight NSFW, so this one is rated 18+ (minors DNI, see my masterlist for disclaimer) A/N: holy Toledo this one's a doozy. I've been working on it for a while, and it's def one of my favorite things I've written so far (at least, for now..). loosely based on the song Low by SZA, and lyrics are included in the text where I see fit. also I added color-coded dialogue for funsies. thank you guys for all the love on my stuff, and I hope you enjoy :)
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As a young, blossoming adult, your life so far has been overall steady. It staggers here and there, of course: moving in waves as life often does. But for the most part, it is everlasting mundanity. Your early twenties are supposed to be where it begins to roar; when you obtain the dizzying adrenaline and overwhelming fear of free will. Empty wallets, fleeting romances, broken hearts, anxiety, love, hurt. These emotions are meant to be felt, and life is not lived without them.
So, as life would have it, your steady mundanity was indeed set ablaze in your early twenties, when you fell in love with someone you had originally thought you hated.
Some might call that cliché. But, in actuality, not quite.
You had been friends with the mutant ninja turtles for years, ever since they saved New York City from the infamous Kraang attack of 2016. Your father was a police officer, and you had all met at the post-battle award ceremony and celebration. You and the turtles were 17 at the time, and you saw them repeatedly after that as they continued to work with the NYPD. Over time, you grew to become the friends you were now.
Well, not all of you. From your first encounter with the brawny brother in red, you discovered that he had quite the knack for pushing your buttons. While Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Donatello became some of your closest friends in the world, Raphael did everything he could to block you out. He was argumentative, temperamental, and unpredictable. You two could fight about anything: what kind of toppings to put on pizza, DC vs. Marvel, song or movie choice, even knitting patterns. The two of you were always bickering, always finding some way to make a snide comment or butt heads about something.  You couldn't stand him, and the feeling was very obviously mutual. 
On the topic of heads: flash forward five years later, when it finally came to one. You had been spending a lot more time with your turtle friends after finishing off your online degree program. While you were happy this was the case, the tension between you and Raphael seemed to be growing the more often you were around.
One day, the guys had gone out on their regularly scheduled patrol, with Raph staying behind because of a particularly nasty fight with Leo. You were waiting in the lair for them to return so that you could have your weekly movie night, but you were growing bored, and Master Splinter was nowhere to be found. Thus, you made the difficult decision to go bother Raph as he worked out in the dojo. 
When he saw you approaching his bench, he groaned through a rep, his eyes rolling back into his head. "What do ya want, shortstack?" He grumbled as he continued to bench press his barbell, the veins in his big, green arms flaring with each movement. 
You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed. "Save it, meat head. The more entertaining members of this family are gone, so I'm stuck here with you and nothing else to do. So..." You paused for a moment, watching as a scowl grew on his face while he continued his reps. "Do you want a spot.. or something?"
Raphael let out a breathy laugh as he set the barbell down back onto the stand. "Easy, tiger," He spoke as he sat up on his bench, side-eyeing you. "Even if you could lift this bar, I sure as shit ain't letting ya spot me. You'd purposefully drop it on my head before I could even bat my eyes at ya."
Your arms uncrossed and your hands went to your hips as you took a step closer to the red-masked brute. "Pssh, like I'd ever let you bat your eyes at me. I'd gouge out my own eyeballs before that could happen."
He scoffed up at you as he began to unwrap the bandages on his hands, which had been protecting his calluses from the aggressive texture of the metal bar. "Gee, yer a real charmer, aren't ya?" he questioned sarcastically, slightly under his breath. "Must be why you gotta line of men falling at your feet. Someone's gotta tame the tiger."
The dig at your love life (or rather, lack of one) made your face heat up, and you clenched your fists at your sides, taking another step closer to the brute. After all these years of bickering and insults, you were finally nearing your limit. "God, I try to be civil with you for one single day and you're a total asshole for no reason. What's your damage, Raph?"
Raphael whipped his head to you, the bandages he had just finished unwrapping long forgotten as he tossed them to the floor. He stood up from his bench as he spoke, taking a step towards you. "Ain't that easy. Yer my damage, sweetheart. Always have been, always will be."
"Oh, yeah?" You two stood not even a foot apart, and you were glaring up at him with the most intimidating look you could muster. "And just what exactly is your problem with me?" You could feel your heart rate increasing from the growing tension in the room. The air surrounding you felt like it had been injected with adrenaline, and you felt your temperature rising by the second. "Another easy one," Raph growled, looming over you. "You annoy the shit outta me, and ya never know when to shut yer goddamn mouth."
Your rage was increasing by the second, and by the fumes you felt radiating off of his mutant green form, you could say the same for the turtle in red. You were practically pressed against each other, him with a scowl on his face and you with a fire in your eyes. Your chest puffed up, and the words were out of your mouth before you could have a second thought.
"I bet you'd like to make me, wouldn't ya?"
It was silent after that. After quickly thinking it over, you almost gasped aloud at the implications of your words. The eye contact changed from a heated stare battle to his hazel eyes dominating, searching yours. You had been feeling very confident up until this moment, but that sentence alone caused the confidence to wither away, confusion at yourself taking its place. What the fuck did I just say?
Raphael's snarl had changed into a look of surprise. Confusion. And then back to anger.
With a frustrated grunt, he grabbed your waist and smashed his lips to yours. 
And that was the kerosene to the match that set your young adult life ablaze. 
The kiss was all burning rage, gory passion. It was tongues brushing and teeth clashing and a harsh grip on your waist and an even harsher grip on the tough, scaled skin of his shoulders. It was embers and flames and then the roar of a forest fire.  
You couldn't help the sounds that the kiss drew from deep within your chest. You didn't know how or why, but your soft lips fit oh so perfectly against his rough, scarred ones. Your mouths moved together in a harmonious rhythm despite the chaos, even as he gripped you by your thighs and carried you to his bedroom, as if you had practiced this a hundred times before. It felt like second nature to kiss Raphael, even though this was your first time doing so.
And you hated that you felt that way. 
What followed could, in no universe, be described as love-making. It was desperate and reckless ecstasy, a steaming release of the fury and tension you had been feeling towards one another for all these years. It could be seen in the way your nails clawed at his tough skin, in the way he pounded himself in and out of you, in the way your needy moans synchronized with his low grunts, in the way you clenched ever so tightly around him as he filled you with himself; it was aggressive, rough, almost mean.
You and Raph stilled for a moment after it was all over, breathing heavily and not saying a word, when you suddenly heard commotion coming from the living room. You made eye contact quickly, eyes widened, before scrambling to get dressed and cleaned up. You scurried out of his room and into the hallway, making it look to the returning brothers like you had been merely using the bathroom. And neither one of you spoke of it.
If you see me out in public, you don't know me, keep it silent In the bedroom, I be screamin', but outside, I keep it quiet Keep it on lowski, I'm the lowest of the lowest Wanna see if you can keep it like nobody know shit
The months that followed held similar tales of hidden passion. You and Raph never outright discussed what was transpiring, but assumed the unspoken rule of not mentioning it to his brothers. You continued to hang out with them when you could; on movie nights, you told them that you liked to wait in the lair for them to return from patrol so that you could eat all the popcorn without them. If Raphael stayed back from patrol, you snuck into his room or the dojo with a sarcastic remark and a smug look to annoy him to the point of 'teaching you a lesson'. If one of you was feeling particularly desperate to let off some steam, he would sneak out to your apartment on their nights off, telling his brothers that he was going to go get some air to 'clear his mind'. No matter what time he called or texted, you answered. It was almost like an addiction; you couldn't get enough of each other, and you couldn't deny how the other was able to satisfy you perfectly. 
You know how to reach me every time and it plays in your mind With a rush that feels like we committin' a crime You know where you belong, I'm gon' save you a spot But we can't be outside 'cause the block is too hot And I'm all on your mind...
At first, as stubborn as you both were, you kept up your gig of hating each other, despite the passion you were displaying. Between kisses and within sexual acts, your bickering continued relentlessly. "Wow, ya didn't even wear panties today. Gettin' desperate, are we?" "By the looks of your crotch right now, I don't think I'm the desperate one, dumbass." "Ya better watch yer fuckin' mouth." "Why, Red? Can't handle the heat?" "Oh, I'm boutta show ya heat, sweetheart." 
It was a balancing act, both of you trying not to break face and show the other how much you were enjoying these rendezvous of yours. Pride is a crazy thing, however, and as the situation went on, it began to manifest itself in other ways. 
Raphael was the one to start it, about a month into the endeavor. He couldn't help himself; after a day of arguing with Leo and feeling like a disappointment, he sought you out to release his frustrations. And the way you looked writhing and whining above him (as he munched like his life depended on it) had him feeling real smug. His hazel eyes watched you as he worked, the liquid gold shining with mischief. When he came up for air, his hands still keeping busy, the pride emerged.
"Anyone else make ya feel like this, doll?" He asked, his low voice scraping your ears like gravel, a dark smirk spreading across his face. "Tell me. Can anyone else make ya feel this good?" You had rolled your eyes and scoffed in the moment, but couldn't help the moans that continued to emerge from your mouth at his actions, clenching the sheets beneath you. He saw your bratty behavior and abruptly halted his movement, holding your hips still so that you were trapped. "Answer the damn question, or I'm stoppin'." You squirmed for a moment, whining, but your need had consumed you like a demon. "No!" You yelped. "No one else makes me feel this good, Raph! No one else makes me feel like you do! Please don't stop, please!" You wouldn't have called it begging after the fact, but he most certainly did. 
After that, something shifted. Sure, your sessions were still utilized for tension release, but there was more of a possession between you two than there had been before. The two of you were hanging out more often than you ever had. The bickering lessened, and in its place was validation, need, and your names on each others' lips. The contact grew more tender, and the conversations afterwards were more joke-y and only held friendly fire.
"So... do ya wanna put on that movie you were tellin' me about the other day?" "Wow, you wanna watch a movie with me? You must reallyyyyyyy enjoy spending time with me, Red~" "To be honest, I'm not here for you, I'm just here for the take out I know yer gonna end up orderin' later." "I love this hot n cold thing we have going on here. It's really turning me on." "Yer such a fuckin' goofball."
Between the two of you grew a mutual respect, an understanding, a cooperation: a love.
You found yourself thinking of things you wanted to tell Raph about when he wasn't around, and craving his input when you sought him out for advice. You yearned for the sound of his gruff voice and his blunt choice of words that always made you laugh or eased your mind. He found himself longing for the random questions you asked him or the jokes you'd regularly crack (whether they were funny or not) and the angelic sound of your laughter. Neither of you told the other about these feelings you were having, but they continued to develop on both sides.
Raphael found himself pondering these feelings one day while hitting the bag in the dojo, growing frustrated with himself. You had been in the lair hanging out with his brothers, and he continued his workout routine in the interest of being discreet, but he longed for nothing more than to hang out with you. To just be with you like his brothers were right now.
Of course, a particular brother in blue was bothering him more than normal. Leo was closer to you today than he normally was: giving you long hugs, sitting close to you on the couch, making you laugh with his idiotic jokes. Raph scoffed as he heard your laugh from the living room now, throwing an extra aggressive jab. What did Leo know, anyway? He'd bet that he could make you laugh twice as hard. He stopped, annoyed with himself for being so worked up, and stepped away to grab a towel and some water. 
As he made his way over to the mini fridge to grab a bottle, he was surprised to see you making your way over to him. Normally, on nights like these, he didn't expect anything from you besides your staged bickering until his brothers went to sleep or you went back to your apartment. You had a playful smile on your face as you approached the mini fridge, a message in your eyes that he couldn't quite make out, but goddamn he knew they were trying to say something to him.
"Hey, big guy. Leo sent me to grab some water," you looked up at him as you spoke, the smirk still on your face. And all the hope that Raph had felt in that moment dissipated, like popping a balloon. He scoffed at you, rolling his eyes before grabbing a water bottle and walking away. 
"Wait, woah. What's the matter?" He heard you ask from behind him, confused. He shook his head as he walked. "Nothin's the matter," He spoke slightly under his breath, but you could still hear him. "Why don't ya just go back to Leo? You're all over him, anyway."
He heard your footsteps as you followed him over to his bench. "Hold up, do you have a problem with me hanging out with your brother?" Raph couldn't make eye contact as he turned around to face you, so he looked down at the ground and huffed, eye ridges furrowed.  "Well, ya know me, and I don't like ta share. So if you're gonna hang out with him like that, then go ahead." 
"And just what would you be sharing?" You stood your ground a couple of feet in front of him, arms crossing at your chest and a determined glint in your eye. "Be straight with me, Raph, 'cause it's time we talked about this. What's going on between us?" He let out a grunt, shocked at your sudden confrontation, but still refusing to make eye contact. "Obviously nothin', if yer gonna go hang with Leo like that."
You inhaled, trying to maintain your patience. From the proximity you now held with the turtle in red, you knew you wouldn't get anywhere by fighting back. "Let me rephrase that. What do you want to be going on between us?" Raph moved to turn away from you, huffing again. "I don't know! Geez!" He exclaimed, before you grabbed his large bicep. He faced you, his massive form towering over your frame as you stepped close to him. He finally looked into your eyes, and saw nothing but a genuine question. No teasing, no tormenting, just a silent plead.
"Hey, talk to me, Red. It's just me." You smiled softly, begging eyes searching his liquid gold ones for something, anything, to grab onto and run with. He let you for a moment, before looking down at the ground again, growing more and more frustrated with himself. He took a deep breath, and kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke. 
"...I'm not very good with words, ya know that." He paused for a moment, making quick eye contact with you before looking back to the floor. "But I just... I like how this is goin'. How we're goin'... I like us together. I like bein' with ya, Y/N, and I just wanna do that without any of the other shit. I..." He stopped again, taking another deep breath. "I want to be with ya for real. And I'm sorry if I messed this up and that's not what ya want--" 
"I want that, too, Raph," You cut him off with a rising smile on your face, not being able to wait any longer. "That's all I've been wanting to be honest. I should have mentioned it earlier." Raph returned his eyes up to your face, shock gracing his expression. "Wait, so yer not into Leo?" He questioned, slightly caught off guard. You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove. "No dumbass, I'm into you." He watched your smile grow into a beam, silent, before a smile began to grow on his face as well. 
"God, finally," a voice exclaimed before Leo came out from behind the entrance of the dojo, walking up to the two of you. "It took you guys long enough. Even I was getting impatient." "Thanks buddy," you said to him, smiling as you guys bumped fists. Raphael watched the exchange, confused. "Wait... what?" He asked gruffly, eyes flicking between you and his brother. "You knew... about.. us?"
"Dude, we've all known for a while." Mikey shouted from the living room. Donnie walked past the entrance of the dojo and paused, a newly filled cup of coffee in his hand. "Yeah, you guys aren't exactly the most discrete," he said, before continuing his stroll back to his lab. Leo chuckled before turning back to his brother. 
"I was tired of watching you guys sneak around, so I finally confronted Y/N about it last week, and she spilled the beans on how she felt about you. Something told me you felt the same way, call it a brotherly instinct. Or maybe it was all the times you not-so-secretly snuck off to her apartment." He gave his muscly brother a playful punch to the bicep. "So pardon me for playing matchmaker a little bit."
You took a step closer to Raph, hugging yourself around one of his arms and looking up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, I mayyyyyyy have gotten impatient and recruited Leo to help me move things along. That's why we were all cuddly today. But you don't mind, right?" You jokingly pressed him, batting your eyelashes. 
He rolled his eyes at you and scoffed, removing you from his arm, but wrapped his arms around your waist instead of pushing you away. He pulled you from his side to his front, turning you to completely face him and ignoring his older brother present in the room. "Yeah, I guess it's fine or whateva," he fake-sighed, bringing you close to his plastron and leaning in toward you. You, too, leaned in, your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck. 
"Okay, at least wait until I'm out of the room to start sucking face," Leo commented, turning around and booking it out of the dojo. The two of you turned your heads to watch him leave before facing each other again, glowing smiles on your faces. 
"So... I guess I tamed the tiger, huh?" He teased gruffly, nudging his snout into your cheek. You giggled, a mischievous glint reaching your eyes. "Who said anything about tame?" You teased back, playing with the ends of his blood red mask.
"That's my girl," he murmured, before smashing his lips into yours.
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So because apparently both parties in my country oppose trans healthcare to some extent I want to make it very clear to cis people what healthcare they're opposing.
There's a lot of fearmongering about children undergoing medical transition. So I'm gonna walk you through what might happen to a child who is transgender and wants to go the full medical route. Let's say our hypothetical transgender child, I'll make him a him because I'm a him and I'll call him Rat because he named himself when he was 6.
So Rat would probably, unless he experienced precocious puberty, go on hormone blockers at age 9 or 10, a year or two before he would start experiencing puberty just to make sure he doesn't experience any female puberty symptoms. Then at about 13 or 14 he would have an appointment with his doctor and they would decide that he has been sure that he was a boy for many years now and he's at an appropriate age to start puberty, at which point he would be taken off the hormone blockers and put onto a dosage of testosterone that is typically of what his perisex camab peers produce naturally. Because he never produced estrogen he would not have grown breasts and not need top surgery. He would develop exactly how his camab peers develop.
Now I want to put an interlude here that literally all of this is reversible. At any point Rat could change his name back and go off the testosterone jabs and his ovaries would start functioning again and they would produce the appropriate estrogen to give him breasts and hips. He could take the same vocal training classes that trans women take, he could get laser hair removal on the places where appropriate, and it would be as if he'd never been on the hormones at all.
But he doesn't want to do that. He wants a penis so let's move onto that.
As far as surgery goes, he would not be able to have either metoidioplasty or phalloplasty until he was on hormones long enough to experience the necessary bottom growth to occur, which takes a couple of years. (At least that was what I was told in 2016 please lmk if standards have changed since then). So at this point we're already about 16 years old before surgery even comes up as an option at the doctor's office. And Rat, if he is particularly gung ho about getting a penis and his parents can afford it/insurance will pay for it, probably gets put on a waiting list for a consultation with a specialist in genital reconstruction. Let's say at that consult which probably takes a few months minimum to get into, he opts for the most similar to perisex male genitalia: phalloplasty with testicular implants. Right there we're looking at at least three different surgeries and not all of them are going to happen at the same time. He's 17 before he's ever even on the operation table and he's been consistently identified as male since elementary school. This is the fastest possible bottom surgery route I'm laying out for you here and he still not slanging it until senior prom when he'll give it an ill advised test run in the back of his parents Subaru with Kelly from the anime club. All of that is assuming there's a doctor who will do it for him that can fit him in. Some people wait years for surgery.
Now some people get top surgery younger, but guess what, breast implants both exist and can be removed. If a 14 year old gets a double mastectomy and regrets it when they're 23 they can get implants. If a 16 year old gets breast implants and regrets it when they're 20 they can get those taken out. Top surgery is not complicated and I've heard from guys who truely would not have made it if they hadn't gotten theirs done.
I know this won't convince anyone who opposes trans healthcare but I hope it at least explains transition to cis allies who support trans people getting healthcare but still might think minors not being allowed to have surgery is a moderate position. I invite any trans person to add onto this with a MTF perspective or how their surgeries helped them.
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cheriladycl01 · 6 months
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The Deeper Connection - Zhou Guanyu x ChildhoodBestfriend! Reader
Plot: You made friends with Zhou when he first came to the UK to pursue his driving career, and you were like two pee's in a pod. When he reaches F1 and life gets busy for the both of you he finds solitude in your childhood hideout.
A/N: I haven't been that active lately with finals coming up, however I'm still trying to post regularly!
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You'd grown up in Sheffield all your life, you lived in a very nice home and came from a pretty well off family. With a dad in oversea real estate and your mum as a business owner and entrepreneur in the UK you wouldn't ever have to ask for anything twice.
The trouble was that you tried out so many hobbies and none of them really tended to stick.
Ballet when you were at three, didn't work with zero hand to eye coordination.
Horse-riding when you were five, didn't work after you got bored with how slowly you were being taught to ride.
Acting school when you were seven, didn't work when you were bullied for only being there because of mummy and daddies money. This completely made you loose your passion for it.
Swimming when you were eight, which you had to stop because of a medical condition with the cold water in the winters and your body temperature not mixing well.
Space camp when you were nine, didn't work because you were bored where you already knew everything they talked to you about because it was a special interest of yours.
Pottery when you were ten, whenever something broke you got really disappointed and sad with yourself and eventually it became something you only did every now and then to avoid burnout.
Gymnastics when you were eleven, didn't work after getting bored within the first weeks and it taking up too much time.
You were 12 when you met Zhou Guanyu, he moved into a house down your road in the gated woodland community of large and wealthy farm homes and mansions.
You guys became close almost straight away, you'd spend every night in the treehouse that his dad built him when they first moved in. But he wasn't always around, some weekends you'd knock on his door and no-one but the maid would answer explaining that the family weren't around.
She'd let you into the house, where you'd wait for him in either his bedroom or out in the treehouse. Sometimes he wouldn't come back until 10pm, and you'd be curled up on his beanbag in his room, asleep and his parents would have to call yours suggesting yet another sleepover.
After 3 years of knowing him, you found out where he'd been going and why he was home schooled just like you. He would kart, but now he'd got into Italian Formula 4 and he wouldn't be home as much.
You'd cried begging him not to go, Zhou really was your only friend and even though it had only been three years of friendship you'd attached yourself to him insanely quickly.
Not that he minded of course.
Your managed to go see one race with him, it was in Monza and he'd won it all. And that weekend he asked you to be his girlfriend. You of course said yes, as a two giddy sixteen year olds and went on from there.
The distance got easier when he was in the European Formula 3 championship in 2016. You being 17 weren't actually allowed to make your own choices yet, but the minute you turned 18, 5 months after Zhou, you were following him around to each race.
At this stage taking a gap year before you were due to go to university was better for you, and Zhou. In 2018, he got the news he'd be going to Formula 2 for the 2019 and you'd been accepted to Oxford.
For that first year you made it work. You visited him at races when you had breaks from university and he would come stay with you in your small uni accommodation in the off season or when he had longer breaks into between races.
But when 2020 rolled around, and you were forced to be separated by the growth of COVID-19 your relationship fizzled out. You pushed and pushed trying to keep the sparks there but one day, Zhou phoned you explaining that he couldn't do it anymore.
You'd cried so much that day, and you'd never felt more alone. The only place you thought to go that was safe was the tree house, you could get there through the side gate and you knew Zhou's parents were in China on business only leaving the maid there.
So that's what you did, you laid there curled up in a blanket Zhou brought you, crying until it got darked and you started to scare yourself looking into the dark woods.
When you were younger and you thought you heard or saw something in the woods, Zhou would hold you close explaining to you it was just your imagination and you'd immediately feel a sense of calm wash over you.
You left the treehouse that night getting on the last train you could think off back to Oxford.
Zhou continued in F2 in 2021, but got progressively more busy when competing in a small stint of the Winter F3 Asian Championship, of course you kept up to date with him.
You loved the boy and you didn't ever think you'd stop.
When the announcement of his promotion into F1 happened you cried happy and sad tears. Happy he'd achieved his dream, but ultimately sad he was in the big leagues now and he would definitely have no time for you.
He had a phenomenal first year and you watched every single race, even getting up at absurd hours to watch him. You cheered him on all the time and would get anxious whenever you had to stop or DNF.
Silverstone with the Russell incident was the worst. You parents had to hold you tightly as you cried seeing just how bad the crash was. Seeing George run over to his flipped over car that he couldn't get out of and a red flag being called.
You ran out the house going straight to the treehouse. His parents watched as the 22 year old climbed up the old rickety ladder, bag in hand and red bloodshot eyes.
They knew you'd seen his crash and you wanted some space.
What did shock them was the fact that you consistently came back every night for a few weeks.
It was a warmer night and you still had your blanket but there wasn't a need for a hoodie when you first came out. You were just laying there on the wooden planks looking out of the little skylight in the breaking wooden roof at the stars.
"Hey" a voice says softly making you turn to the ladder.
"Zhou?!" you explain sitting up quickly looking at him. Not that you hadn't seen him on Instagram or in his post race interviews but he'd grown into his face. He was as handsome as ever.
"Mmmmm" he sighs, almost in a grunt sort of way. He comes next to you and lays down, not coming to close scared that you'll leave if he pushes to close.
"Your star is up there tonight" he says raising his hand and pointing to the brightest star between the tree line. He'd named it your star when you'd spend the first night out here.
"How's it been, travelling round the world?" you ask softly turning to look at him, laying on your side. He turns onto his as well to also look at you.
"Lonely" he whispers with a sigh, pushing some of you hair behind your ear making you hold you breath as his fingers brush along the side of you face and down to your lips before recoiling his hand back.
"But your so busy and round people all the time!" you argue confused as to why he would ever feel lonely.
"I think sometimes even though I'm surrounded by people, they aren't people that get me... you know?" he asks turning onto his back, looking up at the sky.
"I think i feel the opposite" you laugh.
"What do you mean?" he asks, his gaze not wavering from the sky.
"I feel like i have absolutely no-one around me, but everyone i do bump into can see right through me" you sigh, having struggled at work recently as a graduate and new employee, working from home.
"Seems like we both are out of our comfort zones then" he offers with a sigh.
"Mmmmm i did have my comfort zone at one point" you say, it came out pointedly which you didn't intend.
"Yeah?" he asks, looking over at you again.
"Yeah it was you. I don't think I've ever experienced a connection like I have... had with you" you sigh.
"Had, you don't feel that way anymore?" he asks with a sad frown, that makes a frown of you own appear.
"You broke up with me in one of the loneliest periods in my life, It's always just been you Zhou, I've never had anyone else and then you were just gone ... I- you broke me and took a part with you" you sniffle, not sure how else to describe the heartbreak you were feeling.
Some people had their heart broken, where it would splinter all over and someone would come along and patch it back up until it healed.
Some people had their heart broken, where it would completely shatter and all the pieces are spread out and someone has to come along and pick up all of those pieces and puzzle them back together.
Some people have their heart broken, where it again completely shatters but the culprit takes a piece of that heart with them so that if theirs a time when someone else does come around and fix it it's never fully fixed, beating but never full.
And Zhou had that piece of your heart and no-one had put back the remaining parts of your heart, you'd gradually started to do it yourself but it was proving to be a long process.
"I-" he starts but chokes on his words.
"I think, I'll always love you Zhou Guanyu..." you whisper sitting up, your hair loosely falling over your shoulder.
"I know I'll always love you. And I want to take back everything I did! I need you in my life!" he says looking over you, making you look down.
"You cant take it back Zhou..." you start before looking up seeing his teary expression. "But i think we could start again. I don't want my heart back, it's yours to take... all of it forever. Your only going to be it!" you smile, knowing this was your chance to have him back.
He was your soulmate you were sure of it.
He leans up and pulls you into a kiss.
"I promise from here on out, I'll never leave you again again!"
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ruershrimo · 5 months
Text
take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 6: beginning
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ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | next | m.list
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chapter synopsis:
'“Why else do you think I am the way I am? I may be shy and scatterbrained, or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen, when in reality it’s just what I want to happen. But this is why I’m so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.”
You haven’t told her you love her too in years.'
'And Itadori seems… like a good person. I think it’s good, that… you were able to find a friend like that.”
“It was. He’s a really, really good guy.”
“You love him a lot,” Megumi says.
---
You and Megumi set out to prevent an emergency involving Yuuji and a cursed object. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen. But at least everyone is fine in the end, even if it means you'll have to walk away from almost everything (or maybe it's the other way around).
You're going to be all on your own. Still, now it seems like this will hurt less now.
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word count: ~8k; tws: none for now :)
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17-6-2018 
The two of you walk down the lane. It’s midnight. There’s a loitering silence in the air, no words exchanged between you and him, and it twists your heart in brief moments of hurt when you’re not trying to keep your mind occupied with other things. Your legs move subconsciously without you caring to think of them, the route to the hospital ingrained in your mind as if intrinsically there. 
At some point, you think your hand with its sweat and its grip is going to leave imprints like a marring on his skin, but it’s of your own selfishness that you choose to hold onto his wrist anyway. 
There’s a million things you could say to him right now, things you’ll forcefully push to the very back of your throat, things you’ll keep under lock and key in a mangled mix of quiet anticipation and sombre anxieties. Right now you’re holding his wrist and that’s enough for you, to have him walking behind you if not beside, to be two people near each other— not together— in silence since any conversation is not an option; any conversation could lead to the last spark needed to be fanned into the flame for it to erupt bigger and brighter than ever before. 
If you asked about Tsumiki right now, or why either of them never bothered to speak to you since 2016, it could break you apart, of that you’re sure. And even without words it threatens to do so to you like a chandelier of melting wax candles hanging above you being suspended precariously from the ceiling or light lightning soon to be thrown down mercilessly from the sky. 
“The turning to Sendai Hospital is on the right.” 
“I know the routes better,” you let out, and rather disappointingly it sounds brasher and more derogatory aloud instead of the unobtrusive tone you were aiming for— you hope it doesn’t hurt him but then wonder why you still even cared that much about how he felt about what you said or did anyway, “I got myself accustomed to taking the one on the left that leads you through. Quick shortcut and all.” 
You’re not looking back, but the light pull of his hand from the hold of your wrist seems to suggest his slight reeling back in a small sense of surprise and an equal amount of shock, as if suddenly remembering the fact you were your own person, that you had your own autonomy as one, because somehow everyone thought you weren’t. 
It’s strange to look back at how you were before: meek, timid. Too shy to speak up. Too innocent to be angered by anything. Always dreaming, mind bleary as if on a cloud in blurred skies, hiding behind the backs of others like a petrified forest critter. 
And now you’re this— this person who frowns and disagrees and retorts at every little thing, and as much as you have to, as much as it was nearly inevitable the way you turned out, all you can think you share with the person you were when you first met Megumi and Tsumiki was your need to be useful— and even that has been exacerbated by how you’ve grown, how you’ve become this person you grew into. And a part of you— no, just you as a whole— doesn’t like yourself at all. 
Your father was right. That little girl was hopeful, obedient, kind, caring— you don’t know why even then you were dissatisfied with the way you were, or why your dissatisfaction would matter because at that time you’d cared so little about everything besides caring for people and having fun with the pair of siblings that you were so rarely bothered by it, that it was still just a slight whisper from the back of your head that could be shushed or tuned out with library visits and nights in front of the TV and the glow of old cartoons. Your father was right and this is proved even more by the fact that the whole situation just infuriates you on the surface, and just makes you feel like an empty, hollow shell left behind when you reach deeper into yourself. 
That little girl had potential, potential to be useful but kind, obedient and close to the people who raised her even if it meant abandoning her own ideals. But you’d been so devoted to them, you think, that she was killed and destroyed in the world she grew up in, and now there’s a space for her that’s left vacant due to the way she wasted away. You miss her, the girl you once were, you miss being her, how easy and lighthearted everything was and how all of you felt so content in every sense of the word. But you don’t want her back. Now that’s just what makes you miserable sometimes. 
Self-reflection just made you feel revolted by yourself. You keep your eyes on the road. 
“It’s here,” you state, pointing at the building in front of you. 
Sendai General Hospital is an institution made out of bare concrete. Its walls are yellowed and close in on its wards like a prison, coloured using old paint that hasn’t been repainted over and is as pallid-looking as the skin of the people sitting on the beds it is inhabited by. Just being in it feels like a hit to the body and the brain and the senses, too. There are old-fashioned tiles on its floors, their pale beige hue muted yet the blinding shine on them harshly mopped clean. Inside it reeks of an imminent presence of sickness or death or illnesses and conditions never to be able to be defeated and sterile sanitisers. Looking at the latex-blue curtains in it feels like a blindfold unwantedly, forcefully pulled over both your vision and your ears. 
“You and that Itadori seem close.” 
“We are,” you say, then you add, not really knowing why, “He’s my best friend.” Maybe you’re trying to make him jealous, rile him up a bit. But even then you wouldn’t want him to be riled up, nor would you be satisfied if he were to keep silent. Maybe you just wanted to hurt him, to hurt him back or something, if only for something small, even if you’d already resolved not to do so. 
You’ll make sure not to do that again, though. 
Instead he does something else, takes another route instead. “Then it seems you visit his grandfather often.” 
“Uh-huh,” you nod as the two of you enter the hospital, and you have to blink a few times as always in order to adjust yourself to the light and how it reflects off the detachedly clean floor. “My mother’s here, too.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry— is she alright?” 
“She’s okay, I… think. She… she got sick a while back and stays here now,” you explain, “Let’s not talk about that…—I mean, I… don’t really want to.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“You don’t have to keep saying that.” It just makes people feel worse. 
He doesn’t push further and you suppose that’s okay. Your chest hurts a bit, like phantom pain on a wound that’s still there. There’s not really a way to explain it but almost everything makes you feel that way these days. Everything makes you feel horrible to some degree. Maybe it’s being a girl, maybe it’s being a teenager, but it’s not quite either, you guess. 
“He won’t be here for a while,” you say, “He’s either still in the room where his grandfather is or he’s buying flowers for him.” 
“Then I’ll just contact them and let them know the whole situation first.” 
Who’s ‘them’? 
“Okay.” You turn your back on him, “—wait.” 
“What?” 
“Do you have any emergency contact or something? Like, a trusted adult who could help you with any of this? In case things go really bad?” 
“...why would you need one?” he questions. 
You roll your eyes, “Just give it to me, damn it… if there’s anything I have nowadays, it’s probably foresight for stuff like this. For emergencies.” 
He gives you the number, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Why’d he have to be so pissy about anything and everything? 
“Okay, thanks. I’m going to visit my mother now.” 
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The air and the colour from it seems distant as always, the ward she was basically imprisoned in smelling of the indistinguishable mix of sanitiser and sickness. There her body chains her to her bed, and there is little she can do besides rely on and weakly cling to the nurses who assist her, a frail shadow of what she once was. 
“Hi, Mummy.” 
She turns to you, and your chest constricts. Her hair, once much longer, the type that you dreamed to have as it billowed in the wind, the type that invited you caressively to bury yourself in and take in that heady scent of roses that emanated from it— that hair is now replaced with a cloth wrapped around her head. Radiation. Chemotherapy. 
The wrinkles on her face make the difference between her now and her years ago all the more stark. Every visit you come back here, you’ve forced yourself to be acclimated to this new reality, one where she isn’t waiting at home no matter how tedious the fights get or how exhausting it was eating with someone who remained silent, someone who chose to continue suffering if it meant she could hurt and turn her daughter to guilt (as if that would change anything). At least she was there. 
Cancer is a terminal illness, especially the type your mother is facing— regardless of how much chemotherapy she would struggle through and how much you didn’t want to acknowledge a truth so plain and conspicuously bare, she would be confined to this bed until her final days, her illness like gyves tying her limbs and forcing her earthbound; the bed a cage she could never be liberated from. 
Sometimes she made it a point to you that she didn’t want to liberate herself from it anyway, and you’d never been so depressed yet irked by anything else. (You’d regret everything— not spending time with her, not appreciating her nearly enough— except for your decision to be involved in the Jujutsu world, if not as a sorcerer then as a doctor. That was, and is— your ultimatum. Your end all be all of this whole situation.” 
“Hello. Where’s that Itadori boy?” 
“Not here today, he’s still with his grandfather— maybe later.” You swing your bag over your shoulder, rummaging through it a while before pulling it out. “I’ve something for you, by the way.” 
“Oh! These,” she exclaims, and she smiles faintly, bits of colour rushing back to her face like watercolour dots on moistened paper. “I used to make them for you, sometimes. They used to be your favourite when you were really little.” 
“I know,” you explain, “That’s why I made them. I don’t like them anymore, but… I can’t remember your favourite food or if I ever asked, and I know you don’t like the food they give you here as much as… I don’t know. Your own cooking, I guess.” 
“It’s not my favourite,” she states, matter-of-factly, bluntly, “But thank you for the effort. My favourite will always be my own mother’s cooking.” 
Silence. 
“Now that I look back at everything, there are so many things I regret. Things I should have done but never did out of fear; things I should not have done and never apologised for out of pride. I’d like it if you could be different. Your grandmother went out the same way. At least, even if you had the same illnesses as we did, which I hope the genes for which have been curbed by your father’s— at least you would not leave the world with regret,” she looks down at her hands, staring down at them solemnly like a shadow, an excluded figure. “But it was a good life.” 
“...then maybe you can tell me more. While you— while we still have time. What was your childhood like? What was your mother like?” It feels strange, imposturous, maybe— to be referring to someone basically a stranger as “grandmother”, to name someone so far away from you so intimate, even if the only generation between you, tying the two of you together, was your mother’s. If you had a daughter it would be the same for her, most likely. There’s a part of you that would find honour in becoming your mother once you’d grown, but there’s a part of you that would think being such would accost you horribly, for all time. 
She sighs, “I’ll tell you later. There would be so much to say, like compressing all my words into one tiny paper. The stories have weight in them the same way letters and words in handwriting can be firm and large. But if I were to start,” she begins, “I’ll say that I was born as the daughter of two very powerful sorcerers. Now, I know how much this would sound like some nonsense spouted by your mother, but I think you should listen anyway. 
“My parents loved each other a lot, but my mother had come from an obscure clan whose name I can’t remember, but who had high hopes in them having a child with a powerful cursed technique as their last resort, since, if I recall correctly, there had been a crisis within the clan for it to keep surviving. 
“I still remember when they found out I had no cursed technique and how terrified they were. In me I had a bit more than the relatively normal amount of cursed energy most people have, and so I was expected to have techniques as powerful as they did. They loved me and treated me preciously, like a fragile object, so long as I was quiet and demure— and I guess to some extent I still was and still am today. They wondered what they could do to run from the clan, as if they didn’t have enough power when they were supposed to protect me despite my father’s bullheaded industry and my mother’s patience-formed strength. They lacked grit to grapple against them, and only in this did they lack it, I think; only against my mother’s family did they not have the ability to resolve things whether peacefully or violently. And eventually they just gave up and thought they would just… surrender me over when I entered my adolescent years. I was their daughter. I… suppose they didn’t love me enough. I know it sounds awful— thinking that they should have always protected me, through and through—” 
“No, it wasn’t.” 
“—when it could have been the clan itself that would have been mostly to blame.” 
“But they were still supposed to protect you! They were your parents—” 
“Why else do you think I am the way I am? I may be a shy and scatterbrained or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen when in reality it’s just what I want to happen, but this is why I’m so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.” You haven’t told her you love her too in years. 
“But then when I was an adult I met your father, who was a bit like a country bumpkin, but a formidable sorcerer and a kind, honest person, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with the person he was both inside and out. And for the next few years we struggled to have a child until I found out I was pregnant with you,” she continues, “Even though by that time I was well into my late thirties, we were overjoyed and decided to keep you.” 
Suddenly you wish there had been more time before things were ruined. Time for you to know her better, the beginning of your existence. You would have begged her for old photos, stories, mementos of her and your father. 
“And now the clan’s faded into obscurity, finally. The younger members left and the older ones passed away peacefully. Happy story, right?” 
“...yeah.” It all ended well, but you don’t know if you can say the same for your mother’s. At least, you hope, when she goes away, it can be swift and peaceful like the way her relatives did. 
Then suddenly there’s a buzz in your pocket. An inconvenient one, out of the blue. 
“You should go get that first,” she says. 
“...okay.” 
You lift it up to your face and feel like crushing the damn thing. Old number. Stupid number. Number you haven’t called in months because you’d given up on that bastard— oh. The two of you were working together now. 
You turn away from your mother, creeping to the edge of the room. “What’s wrong?” 
“I just talked to him, but I think it would be easier if you came back and was there with him too since you know him better than I do. And he… doesn’t seem like the brightest. He may think that it’s not important enough to hand over unless you ask him to or something.” 
You muffle your voice with your hand and whisper, “Hey, you shut up, you know nothing about him. He’s way smarter than people give him credit for. But I’m— I’m with my mother right now. Wait for a second. Just ask him to wait for me first; he wouldn’t need any of my help for all of this yet. Make a friend or get a life or something.” 
“...fine. But you’ll have to join us later. He’s bound to ask about you.” 
“Then just tell him I’m with my mother!” you snap, still whispering. 
“I’ll see what I can do.” 
“Wh— you little— oh, don’t you hang up now—” 
Weird thing is, he probably wasn’t even being so infuriating on purpose. And you wouldn’t have burst out at someone for being that way anyway. It was only because it was him, specifically. 
You’d sworn to put that past you. 
Your immaturity strikes once again. 
“If you have to go now,” your mother says, “You should. Just come back again next time. I can tell you the rest. Thank you again for the food, [Name].” She doesn’t call you ‘darling’ anymore, doesn’t she? Just your name. 
“Okay. Sorry.” 
You swing the bag back over your shoulder, wearing it this time instead of taking it off, easing your way out of the room. 
“It’s okay,” she assures you, “Goodbye. I love you.” 
“...I love you, too,” you say, but it’ll mingle with all the other sounds in the hospital, and it’ll be drowned out like a ship in the middle of nowhere, your voice soft and thoroughly soused by the cacophony of bleak noises like telephone rings and beeps from electrocardiographs outside of her deafeningly quiet hospital room. 
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“Hi, Yuuji,” you greet them in the dimly lit waiting area, “...and Megumi. Sorry to keep the two of you guys waiting for so long.” 
“Oh, hey; it’s okay!” he goes, although in his voice it seems that there’s been some of his usual energy seeping away from him. “Didn’t know the two of you knew each other until just now or that you were a part of some magic curse society. Are you guys childhood friends who met because of all that cursed stuff or something?” 
“Something like that,” Megumi explains. 
“It’s a long story,” you say, not exactly denying him nor conceding his words anyway. Once again, there’s a trace of anger despite your promise to be untethered to your puerility like this. “Anyway, are you okay, Yuuji? How’s your grandfather?” 
He pauses. “Oh, about that… he just passed away.” 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Yuuji…” you hold the fabric of his jacket (sometimes it still feels wrong to try and hold his hand— it just makes your heart ache again like a scab being clawed at) and pull him into a brief caress, patting his back as gently as you can manage. 
“It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” he smiles as you pull yourself away, “Grandpa wouldn’t want me to be crying right now anyway. So don’t worry.” 
“Okay, I won’t. But if you’re sad, just know you can always talk to me.” 
He laughs, softer than the boisterous manner he usually does so in, “Yeah, I know.” 
Megumi clears his throat, pointedly trying to make a sound, “Anyway. Itadori Yuuji—” 
“Just call him Itadori. You don’t have to be so uptight.” 
“Nah, [Name], I’m fine—” 
Megumi sighs. “Anyway, we need you to give the cursed object now.” 
“Oh, yeah, that,” you start, “So, Yuuji, do you have the thing that Megumi would have explained to you? The cursed object? We need it for everyone to be safe, and all.” 
“Yeah! Hold on, let me get it. I told you I didn’t have it already, but here’s the box,” he says, tossing it over to Megumi. 
He retrieves the box. It’s ancient and wooden, the craftsmanship behind it elite and adroit, and the paper on it has the words for a buddhist sutra written on it like an inscription. You’ve heard of it before, the kind of curse it was meant to seal, but it definitely couldn’t be— 
He opens the box. 
Holy shit. 
“Where is it?” 
“It’s empty…” Megumi panics, “Wait— hold on!” 
Things are bad— as in, they couldn’t get any worse— not only was the school doomed by the loss of its cursed object, the cursed object was Sukuna Ryomen’s finger itself. 
You blame your inadequacy, your inability to have stopped everything sooner— if not for that nobody would have gotten hurt. If not for that there wouldn’t even be a risk of anything happening anyway. You should’ve tried harder to sense it, and you should’ve focused more on it to keep the student body safe and sound. 
It was your fault. No one else was to blame but your useless self, and even if that were wrong, you’d still have the most to be blamed for. 
Megumi has a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder, keeping the other boy from moving, his breathing erratic and his eyes wide in frantic shock. 
“...well, they were saying, ‘let’s open it up to see what’s inside it tonight’,” Yuuji clarifies, standing a few centimetres away from the door, “Why? Is that bad?” 
Sasaki and Iguchi? 
The air in the hospital feels particularly chilly tonight, gooseflesh terrorising your skin all over, and for all the kinds of reasons that would cause anything like such. 
“It’s way worse than bad,” Megumi declared, fear and grim so thick in his voice they were tangible enough to be cut through with a knife. “Your friends are going to die.” 
“We’ve got to go,” you rush, “Now! Quick!” 
It passes by like a blur, as if you’re in that moment and out of it simultaneously. Your mind has been bombarded with and pressed so thoroughly onto the moment, like tissue on a wet surface, that it seems it’s being blanked out, while your legs continue to run despite your mind nearly forgetting, at this point, why you’re running— as if your legs moving so frantically to help them was something intrinsic, something you didn’t need your mind for. 
Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. 
You didn’t know them all too well, really— just through Yuuji, and Yuuji himself wasn’t as close to the two of them, being their junior and all. And although a part of you was doing this just because you could, like the way you did when you first discovered your cursed technique, you knew that another was doing this for Yuuji. If in any way they were hurt or could not survive, he would blame himself to no end. He possessed such a kindness within him, so much that it hit the depths of your soul sometimes; shattered your heart so gently a million times over or heated it in the kindly way mothers heated pans on stoves despite the heat of it being greater than that of blue flame. If anything happened to them, no matter how much or how little he knew of them, he wouldn’t be able to live after that. 
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The two of them are near the barrier separating the school from the street before you (you struggle with catching up to them— one’s a star athlete and another has been training for much longer than you, you’re sure), the gates tall and enveloped in darkness. You didn’t think much of school except for when it came to your grades and being with Yuuji, thinking of these gates— the ones that you and Yuuji use when you’re running super late— in particular as just a shortcut entrance you paid little attention to, just something treated with indifference as you passed through them whenever you were late. Yet now they echoed denial, refusal, and slim chances— it was unlikely that they’d be alright, especially since this cursed object in particular was the finger of Sukuna Ryomen. 
“Is that the building?” Megumi questions, “Where are they?” 
“Fourth floor— guh!” Yuuji seems to come to an abrupt halt, nearly slamming into what seems to be an invisible wall. A veil. 
“Yuuji!” 
“I’ll handle this,” Megumi declares, hopping onto the metal wires, more directed to Yuuji than you. So even he can tell how selfless Yuuji is, even after only having just met him. 
“I may not know those two that well, but—” Yuuji starts, “But they’re friends! I have to help!” 
“You’re staying here,” Megumi commands, “[Name], if you could— get your father or any sorcerers you know to come here and help.” 
He climbs over the gate. 
He’s going away from you again. Slipping away from your grasp. And now, all you can do is watch. There’s nothing else— nothing else you can do, at all. If you went inside now, you wouldn’t be able to help except— what?— tend to their injuries? Manipulate your own cells into weapons? The former wasn’t possible with how much you’d strained yourself from running so quickly earlier, and the latter was too dangerous: you hadn’t even started with the basics of that yet, on your father’s obstinate insistence that even if he’d let you play doctor he wouldn’t let you manipulate any of the cells in your body into any kind of usable weapon. Any simple wrong move could make things turn south in the most drastically terrifying of ways. If you went in there, you’d just die, and there’d be more casualties, more trouble, more problems caused by you and you alone. 
You can’t even call your father, either. That would always be your last resort— because even if you fought, you still needed him to rest. You didn’t want him overexerting himself by using his cursed technique at all. 
(You were selfish. You didn’t want to lose your father. You didn’t want to have to visit not one but two parents lying sick and tired and grey in matching hospital beds.) 
“Yuuji?” you start, turning to him. “You’re…deathly quiet. Are you okay?” 
His lips quiver slightly, a faint whimpering noise coming out of him. Is he crying? 
“Yuuji, look at me. Are you okay?” you ask, as gently and softly as you can right now, despite your ragged, unsteady, unathletic-addled breaths. You place a hand on his shoulder, slowly rubbing up and down from his shoulder and crook of his neck to his back. “It’s okay. …Megumi’s a good and… capable, strong person and jujutsu sorcerer. He’ll be okay, and they’ll be okay too. Just… just put your trust in him, okay?” 
“I’m sorry, [Name], but I’ve got to go,” he tells you, “You stay here, and call for help or something. I’m sorry, but I’ve just really got to do it!” 
He hugs you, quickly, deftly. And then he crosses the gate, leaving you all alone like Megumi did. You wish he’d hug you longer, that you could take care of him for a little longer— it was your last way to be useful now. 
Still, there’s someone you could call, now that you remember him.
The emergency contact. 
You snatch your phone out, resolute. 
“Hello! Gojo Satoru speaking,” the voice on the other line says. 
You’ve heard it plenty before by accident. 
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When Gojo and Megumi are back, Yuuji’s in the form of a figure slung over Gojo’s shoulders like he’s been reply entrenched into slumber, his body seemingly limp and his torso completely bare. There’s barely an ounce of movement in him, except for slow exhales and inhales you can see on his chest. Sasaki and Iguchi are both nearly the same, the former covered in bruises and in a deep, panicked haze, and the latter as asleep as Yuuji seemed to be while harbouring injuries he may never recover from. 
The only non-roughed up one here is Gojo, it seems; Megumi has a stream of blood running from the top of his head in rivulets, staining his sweaty, scraped forehead. 
“Wh— you two, what happened? Why are they all asleep? What happened to Yuuji? Are they okay? What—” 
“Calm down, kid,” Gojo says, “They’ll be fine. I mean, there’s a 100% chance that your friend can be executed, but…” 
“Executed?” you almost scream, “What the hell happened? You said things would be okay!” 
“Uh-uh, again, calm down. I mean, we don’t even know when they’re gonna make him kick the bucket! He ate Sukuna’s finger, by the way.” He holds his arms up in faux surrender. 
“Gojo you ignorant slut! Don’t you fucking dare tell me to ‘calm down!’ He ate Sukuna’s finger? Why weren’t you able to stop anything? What’s going to happen to him now? You know what— give him to me!” 
“You know, it’s not like I’m scared of being hunted down by your father if you use your cursed technique— I mean, I’m leagues stronger than him— but the stuff was too strong. It’s not like you’ll be able to get rid of the finger in your little boyfriend.” 
“He’s not her boyfriend!” Megumi interjects.
“Thank you, Megumi!” Your face is going hot like a campfire fanned by the wind. 
“Oh?” Gojo adds, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Anyway, we’re going to get him to a place where we can cover everything with talismans to surround him.” 
They’re going to execute him at Jujutsu High after.  
“I’m coming with you.” 
“You sure?” Gojo asks, “Your father isn’t going to like you travelling so far away without telling him.” 
Megumi shifts, a little sombre. “[Name], you don’t have to.” 
“...I’m doing this for Yuuji, not for you.” 
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“You okay?” Gojo asks while the three of you are back in the hospital. (You hate this building so much.) Iguchi’s been transferred to a ward, Sasaki having woken up and insisting on staying with him. “I’ve got kikufuku if you want some. You must be really tired since it’s so late, huh?” 
The whole situation is so incredulous you’re unsure of whether you want to burst out laughing or dismember someone. 
“...nothing. Wait, let me see Yuuji again.” 
Everyone is asleep, it seems— all except for you and Gojo. Yuuji’s been knocked out, and Megumi’s stuck in the world of his dreams. 
You can’t sleep. There’s just nothing to put your mind at rest. 
At least if there’s one thing you can do it’s this. 
Gojo picks him up by the sides of his torso (now temporarily clothed with a spare white shirt) like a child with a heavy book. “Woah— he’s pretty heavy for a fifteen year old kid.” 
You lay Yuuji face-up on the line of hospital chairs. There are thin scarlet marks right under his eyes— Sukuna’s eyelids, you’ve been told. 
You should’ve done more to protect him. 
Slowly, reticently, you kneel by the side of the chairs. You press your fingertips onto that pair of thin tiny lines. 
Nothing happens. You can’t picture his cells being able to grow back. It’s as if there’s been a slit on his face and its outline has been replaced with brand-new skin. His cells don’t budge. 
“Why don’t you help Megumi? I bet he’s got plenty of healable injuries.” 
“…I don’t think I’ll be able to help much. I could faint if I try helping him now. It’s better to leave it to Dr Ieiri or something.” 
“Pft,” he scoffs, “Shoko? She’s definitely not going to heal all of him. It’ll just be a waste of her time. You can just help him with the tiny scrapes and bruises first. And I’ll even tell her that you did it. She’s really fond of you, you know.” 
You give him a shy, modest smile. “Thanks, then.”
It’s time to get to work. 
Megumi’s skin is smooth like a baby’s just like the last time you felt it, though the frown on his face, ever-present, is bound to cause wrinkles there in less than a few decades’ time. You place your hands on him, bruised and bloody, watching in your mind and directing his cells as they work. 
Once the smaller injuries have been dealt with, you stop. “I can’t really work on the one on his head, since then you’d get another fainted person to carry around, but he should be fine with some bandages and patching-up there, because I’ve already kind of catalysed the start of that area’s healing process a little. Other than that, he should be completely fine. I’ll give it, say… two weeks or so for it to get better completely.” 
“Good work!” he smiles, the outline of his cheeks visible on his blindfold. 
“By the way, Mr Gojo…” 
“You know, I appreciate the respect you’re giving me now, but just Gojo is fine.” 
“Okay, Gojo. Do you think Yuuji will be okay?” 
“I mean, I’m pretty sure. And I’m going to ask them to suspend his sentence. I’ll just see whether he wants that or not once he wakes up.” 
“That’s the thing. I’m not sure if he even will.” 
Gojo laughs. “Don’t worry. He was really strong, and able to switch between being possessed by Sukuna and being himself at will. We haven't seen that kind of talent in a millennia! I’m sure they’ll listen to me, anyway.” 
“Thank you,” you sigh. Thank goodness. “If you need any type of payment, um… teleport to my house whenever you get inconvenient little cuts like bruises and stuff. I can help.” 
“Nah, reverse cursed technique’s got me covered.” 
“Oh, wait— I forgot about that— um… I can…”
“Just leave it to me! No payment required,” he exclaims, holding both thumbs up. “And for the record, the one who wanted to save Yuuji was actually Megumi.” 
You wouldn’t have imagined that would happen. Megumi— pragmatic, serious, unkind when he needs to be (no matter how kind of a person he actually is— no, was— at heart), different from Tsumiki in so many ways. There was no way he would have been the one vouching for Yuuji, someone he’d only just met, to be spared. 
“Really?” you ask, “I… wouldn’t have thought he was the one who would do it. I thought, maybe, you were just… really kind tonight or something…”
“Well, maybe it was because he saw how much you cared about Itadori and did it for you, or maybe he had met Itadori, liked him, and just wanted to save a good person,” Gojo suspects, “But if there’s one thing for sure it’s that your old friend saved your new one.” 
“...oh.” 
You’ll have to bring it up with him next time— maybe, if he’s still there tomorrow…
“I know you’re mad at him, but a lot has happened,” Gojo states, voice lower, softer like a schoolteacher’s, “Still, I won’t tell you that you have to give him a chance or any of that. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to thank him or anything. I’m sure he did it out of his own volition without expecting anything from you. He knew he probably didn’t deserve to if it were you.” 
You pause. “No, it’s just… I’ll talk to him again the next time I see him. Alone, most likely. And I can figure something out. I think that would be the best way to go around things. Thank you, Gojo.” 
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18-6-2018 
The aftershocks are still there, although you’ve come out unscathed. 
Last night was a mingled mess, a blur. You’d tried your best to help Iguchi by the time Yuuji was placed in the room of talismans and you could come back to the hospital and visit, but in the end he still needed better help than that. His injuries were too large of scale for how you were at that moment, already tired after healing some of the numbers done on Megumi. 
(You were useless. You couldn’t help anyone. You couldn’t prevent Yuuji from being hit with such soul-striking guilt., couldn’t help Sasaki from being traumatised, couldn’t help Iguchi enough for him to be back at school soon—) 
Sasaki’s injuries were limited to bruises and scrapes, but though you could help her physically, there was nothing you could do to assist her emotionally. 
You stayed with them for a few hours in the ICU and then one of the hospital wards (a floor under your mother’s), your father calling you once the sun had risen. 
“Gojo Satoru told me about everything that happened.” 
“Yeah. I know you’ll scold me, but… not now. I’m sorry, I’m just really tired.” You hang up. 
For all you spoke of wanting to be useful, the night when your powers were needed the most was when you were at your most useless— you couldn’t help them, you couldn’t help attack the cursed spirits, and the only thing you could do was call for an adult’s help like a little, scared and helpless girl. 
You needed to train, and train harder than you had been doing for the past few years. 
There’s a knock on the door, a dot-dot-dot-dot-dot. dot dot. It’s Yuuji, you know it is. How ever could you not? 
Timidly, movements quiet like the room itself, you pull the door knob, seeing him there, relatively unscathed. You sigh in relief, a moment’s respite before you return to the panic you had been living in before since you deserve the respite less than other people do— no, you don’t deserve such a break at all, you’re absolutely sure of that, not after what you pulled, how horribly and utterly useless you were, you’ll remind yourself of that again and again and again— the heart-piercing guilt and the worry and the constant need to care for the people around you, almost like a mother, maybe, but you don’t like that thought as much as you think you should. Maybe if your own mother knew, she’d disagree— maybe she’d tell you that you should be a mother, maybe she’d ignore that you were also a child at certain times— the most convenient ones, probably. When she thinks it good that you, a child, were someone’s caretaker because women should take pride in and appreciate that, she would encourage you to be one; when she thinks it bad that as a caretaker and a so-called ‘adult’ you can have your own autonomy, agency and opinions, then maybe she’d remind you that in her eyes you knew nothing of the world. But maybe, just maybe, there was also a chance that she wouldn’t be like that in any way. 
But you wouldn’t put it past her. 
“Yuuji, are you okay?” There are questions about to spill out of you, tears about to fall like gushing rivers, but you’re just happy he’s alive at this point. 
“Yeah.” His voice is soft. Your chest twinges; it hurts like an awful, intransigent little bruise. “Hi, [Name].” It feels so unignorable, the way it’s filled with such sorrow and worry that it weighs his usually loud and boisterous voice down. 
“I thought that—” you start, lips trembling, “I thought there was a chance I couldn’t lose you. The only thing I could do was—” you sniffle, “Hope that they could delay it or something.” 
“Yeah. I’ll explain it later,” he says, his voice sincere. 
You squeeze the wrist of his sleeve. “Don’t do things like that ever again,” you plead, “Promise me that at least.” 
“I promise.” 
“And keep your promises.”
“I will.” 
“...want to come inside?” 
He walks inside, and you step back to make way for him. 
“Sorry I came so late,” he says to you and Sasaki, who shakes her head in reassurance. “Hello, Sasaki,” he greets, “Is Iguchi okay?” 
They speak for a while— you don’t feel like it’s much of your right to join their conversation, since you did nearly nothing at all when they were most in danger, so you leave them be for a while. It would be better not to bother them right now, anyway. They’ve both been traumatised until it reached beneath their bones within the past twenty-four hours. 
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When you leave the hospital, Sasaki tells you that she’s going to stay. You tell her to take care, squeezing her hand one final time. 
You let her, patting her on the back. You’ll call them later— she’d given you her contact— just to check on the two of them. 
“Where’s Megumi?” you ask Yuuji. 
“Oh, Fushiguro? I’m not too sure, but that Gojo guy said he’ll be there soon.” 
“Where, though?”
Sheepishly, in peak Yuuji fashion, he scratches the back of his neck. “Actually, another reason why I came here was also because… I mean, I know you and him weren’t close, but I’m going to the place where they’ll keep Grandpa’s ashes, and I think… you know, you could come with me. I… I don’t think I’d be able to do it really well alone, even though he had definitely made it clear he seriously didn’t want me moping around after his death and all. Gojo and Megumi will probably be there, but I thought it would be better if you were there because I know you better than those two, and you’re my friend. So… could you come with me? I know that he never really showed it, but I think he had always liked you a lot. Like, he was happy we were friends and stuff.” 
“...mhm. I’ll always be happy about that,” you tell him, before pulling him into a hug. The guy must need one right now. You’ve never hugged him before. Your heart hurts. 
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The air is hot and humid with the breath of summer, bundles of mosquitoes bound to be breeding new ones these next few weeks. Up in the sky is the sun, bold and bright, glaring down harshly at the two of you. 
“Before he passed away, Grandpa actually said something. He… kind of cursed me, if I’m being honest,” Yuuji starts. “He said I was a strong kid, so I should help people. And I’m going to do that. So that was why when Gojo asked if I wanted to be executed immediately or just eat all the fingers before dying, I chose the second option. I… I think I want to help people that way.” 
‘You’ve already helped people enough. You helped me,’ you almost tell him. 
You frown, because that’s the only thing you can do right now. You search for words to say the same way you do looking for dog books in libraries chock-full with those of other genres. “I’m… disappointed, I— I know I should be grateful, grateful that you’re still going to be alive and all, but… you’re still going to be in danger, and you’re still going to be executed one day. I mean, again, I know I should be happy you’re going to have more time alive and that I can still see you, but what if things don’t go as planned? What if you lose control of yourself once you reach, like, the fifth finger or something?” 
You’re selfish like that. In a way, you’re just the way your mother is. You should’ve always known— you were her beloved daughter after all, and the people you know would be loved the same way she did you since the day she knew of your existence, and maybe even before that. 
“Don’t worry,” he grins, wide as always. Even in an over-enveloping darkness he still manages to be the light. “I’ll be just fine. I’m a strong kid, after all. And we’ll always be friends!” 
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Gojo asks if he and Yuuji can talk in private for a while. You wonder if this was how your mother felt as she had to give the person she loved most away (but you will have to go away, one day), because you can briefly tell what Gojo is going to ask. You wonder if she felt this twice. 
Yuuji can’t stay with you forever. In the same way you can’t remain by your mother and father’s sides for all eternity. 
This won’t be the last time you’re here, you think. For a place of death, it’s quite a bit beautiful how there’s such large masses of grass and plants surrounding it. 
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Megumi nearly walks past you, his eyes on the old photographs of the deceased all around him. 
“Megumi.” 
He turns around. 
“I just wanted to thank you for wanting to save my friend, even if you may not have wanted to do it for me, specifically… um… I didn’t expect that you’d still be here. Are your injuries okay?” 
“I’m okay,” he answers you. “And also, I…” he hesitates, the first time he’s talked to you for something actually related to the two of you in a long time— nearly two years if you’re counting correctly, but the thoughts in your head are a bit too jumbled to count at the moment. “I didn’t really do it for you, though. It… it was for Tsumiki.” 
“Oh.”
“Wait! I’m sorry, that didn’t… come out right. But I should also apologise for something else. You wouldn’t have been thrown into this world anyway if not for my own demon dogs years ago.” 
“No, no, it wasn’t your fault. And I would have wanted to be in it anyway. There’s not many who can heal other people and all, so I just thought… even if I can’t do as much yet, since I don’t have reversed cursed technique and the drawbacks that come from mine are really bad, I can still help people sometimes if they’re dealing with relatively minor injuries. I can, um… make things easier for people. I can be useful like that. I’d keep to it anyway, because I’m stubborn, but… yeah. It wasn’t your fault, really.” 
“Okay. That’s good to hear.” 
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m happy to know that Tsumiki is okay.” 
Silence again for a while. The air turns a little more sombre, and a lot more awkward. 
“She is. And Itadori seems… like a good person. I think it’s good, that… you were able to find a friend like that.” 
“It was. He’s a really, really good guy.” 
“You love him a lot,” Megumi says. 
“I do. He’s a really good friend. If there’s something I’ll always know I know that, at least.” 
“I can see that. It doesn’t seem like he loves you back in the same way, though.” 
“...wow. Way to be blunt, Megumi. And yes, I do know that, too.” 
“Let’s just… change the subject.” 
“You’re the one who introduced it in the first place.” 
“Okay. How… how are you?” 
“I’m good. Wait, I think you should… go back to them. Maybe they’ll need you there right about now. He’s probably going to have to go to Jujutsu High, right?” 
He pauses. “Yeah. I’m sorry, [Name].” 
“No, no. That’s okay. I expected it. It’s just that I’ll miss him a lot,” you tell him, “He took care of me, kind of. You know I’ve always been a bit of an awkward or shy person, but he still approached me since I was new and we ended up hitting off as friends, kind of. We did a lot of stuff together.” 
Sounds pretty familiar, huh. 
“If you want I can make sure he’s safe for you.” 
“...you should be able to do that regardless of whether it’s my wish for you to do so or not…” you state, “But that would help, I guess. And I’m sorry for my attitude towards you for the past few hours or so. Thank you again.” 
“...I’m sorry I never spoke to you for so long, by the way,” he says abruptly. ‘By the way’? Classic Megumi… 
“I could tell you were. It’s… it’s okay. The two of you kind of have a habit of doing that.” 
All your rage, your loneliness, your feelings of abandonment— and this is all you can do. This is all you can say. You can only just let it go, in the end. 
“I’ll explain it all one day.” 
“You don’t have to if it’s hard.” 
He stays. “No, I will. I promise. And I promise I’ll start to talk to you again, as well. I was just… scared of a few things, maybe.” 
“That’s okay.” 
The two of you aren’t quite friends again yet, but it’ll happen soon. Maybe. And even if it doesn’t, you’re finally able to say, with an open, honest heart, that that doesn’t matter as much anymore. 
“I guess this is goodbye again, then.” 
“Not really.” 
“Oh, right— promise to keep in touch, okay? My patience is running thin with you,” you chuckle at that last part, attempting to joke and make things lighter again. 
“Promise.” 
“I’m going to go home now, by the way. Please tell Yuuji that I wish him the best and I’ll visit when I have my own money to visit Tokyo and all.” 
“I will.” 
“And help me say goodbye to him for me,” you add, “Hope that’s not too much for you to do. Sorry for the trouble. It’s just that I’d actually just about cry if I had to do it in real time right in front of him. Be good to him and be good friends, okay? Keep that promise, at the very least. That’s the one thing that I wish for the most.” 
“Bye, Megumi.” You turn back in the direction opposite of his. 
“Wait—!” 
His hand is on your wrist. Now you’re in front of him, like yesterday, and he’s holding your wrist, albeit a bit gentler than the way he used to pull it a whole eight years ago. 
His eyes are cast away from you, slightly avoidantly and in a way that’s a bit abashed. “I’ll miss you, [Name].” 
“It won’t even feel like I’m not there,” you say. Though his grip is slightly tight, he loosens it as soon as you try to slide it up, as if he’d let you be free of it if you want him to. 
You squeeze his hand instead, turning to face him. It feels warm. It feels like there’s blood coursing through you, the sensation more tender and tangible than it’s ever been. 
“Goodbye.” 
“Goodbye, [Name]. I’ll… I’ll call.” 
“Thank you.” 
Now you’re the one slipping away from his grasp. You move your hand away and walk back. The door slides open. 
2010. Springs, summers, autumns, winters. Hands on wrists, a back faced to your eyes, wide with innocence. Warmth and laughter and happiness and love. Days coloured with vibrant hues and time spent with dog books and in libraries. Frowns were greeted with smiles. Hesitance was non-existent. You didn’t feel a need to compensate for your uselessness. You were a child. You didn’t feel useless at all. You just felt this: a constant leaping in your heart, the corners of your mouth twisting up into a juvenile grin, braiding someone’s beautiful brown hair and tying it with a pretty cherry hair tie. 
You want to cry as you walk back home. 
You’re pretty sure you do. 
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dreamauri · 1 year
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┇𝗗𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 - P1 ┇ ─ ୨୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ─ ┇it's time you got back in the battle ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst/fluff )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 2, 445 ) ╰ 🫧  :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )
☆★ changed up things a little bit cause i found my muse, took me a while to write this chapter as well. I hope it was worth the wait. I don't plan on rushing this series, but it will be a long one, no more than 15/20 (??) chapters? ps. the translation is not literal, it's context. ty ━━━━
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( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests )
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RACE DAY Sunday April 30 2023 — Baku City Circuit, Azerbaijan
Needles to say, you felt like shit. It wasn't even the fourth race into the season and you had taken a seat that didn't belong to you. And there was nothing you hated more than that.
You watched as people rushed around the garage finalising their tasks. "You okay, kid?" Looking up, you met gazes with your new engineer. "Never been better." You lied, giving him a small smile. "Good to hear." He patted the top of your helmet gently. "I'll be in your ear the whole time, champ." "Thank you, Arcadio." "Call me JJ, kid." You chuckled, nodding. "Thank you, JJ."
"And here we are at the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, ladies and gentlemen! A race filled with anticipation, surprises, and the return of an incredible talent. Keep your eyes on car number 17, the Red Bull driven by the remarkable Seventeen. Her first race since 2016 was it? She is finally on the grid, with a full seat as well."
"That's right, Martin. After a long hiatus, Seventeen is back on the grid, and the excitement is electric. You can hear the fans roaring! You can tell that the people are exited for her to get back on the track, and I can't deny it, I am as well." "Disappointingly enough, she will be starting at the back of the grid for missing qualifying on Friday."
"Charles Leclerc is in pole position, with Max Verstappen alongside him in P2. But don't count out Seventeen just yet. She's eager to prove herself once again today."
Lap 1 :: "The lights are about to go out, and the race is underway! Leclerc gets a clean start, holding onto the lead, while Verstappen is hot on his heels. But Seventeen is on the move, slicing through the pack with remarkable determination."
"Seventeen is showing no signs of rustiness, Martin. Lap after lap, she's gaining positions, overtaking rivals left and right. It's a mesmerising display of skill and determination."
Lap 10 :: "Seventeen pulls off a breath-taking move on Turn 8, overtaking Lando Norris' McLaren with sheer precision. She's making her presence known, and the crowd is thrilled to witness her comeback."
"That is P9, Seventeen. P9." "God blessed me with a functioning radio." You joked, chuckling, pulling a laugh from the Filipino on the pit wall. "Thanks' Jj." You sighed happily catching up to the Mercedes ahead.
Lap 25 :: "Seventeen's drive is filled with passion and resilience, Martin. The years away from the car seem to have only fuelled her determination. And she executes a daring overtake on the outside of Turn 3! leaving Carlos Sainz behind!"
Lap 47 :: "Max, we need you to let Seventeen through, please. She's on pace. Let seventeen through." "An incredible act of teamwork from Red Bull! Verstappen gracefully yields, allowing Seventeen to continue her charge towards the front."
"And now, Seventeen is on a mission. Lap after lap, she closes the gap to the leaders, never faltering in her pursuit of glory."
Final Lap :: "The tension is mounting, Martin. Seventeen is determined to make her mark. She's chasing down Charles Leclerc, putting immense pressure on the leader.
"And there it is! In a sensational move, Seventeen overtook Leclerc on the final corner of the final lap! The crowd erupts in applause as Seventeen crosses the finish line, taking an unbelievable victory in her first race back!"
"What a comeback story!" "Seventeen has made a resounding statement with this incredible victory. A truly unforgettable moment in Formula 1 history."
"Heh." You chuckle to yourself as you park in front of the P1 board. Once you lifted yourself out of the car, standing on the nose, you bent backwards holding onto the halo as you did a handstand. "Eat shit." You whispered, bending both knees and arching your back, posing for the camera.
Once you put your feet back on the asphalt you walked to your team who was quick to pull you in the sea of hugs and praise. "Thank you, guys. I would've never been able to do this without you today." You told them, hugging your new and favourite engineer.
"It's good to have you back." You heard Hamilton greet you, dabbing you up. "Thanks, Lewis." You nodded, flicking up your visor so he could at least see the smile that reached your eyes. "Ya saba3tashar!" [hey seventeen] snapping your head to the source of voice, you're met with the smug smile of a certain eight year old.
"Ya benti howa enti ay 7ega tesarakhiha we khalas?" [My God, are you just going to scream at any chance you get?] Her father who was carrying her on his hip scolded, covering his pulsing ear. "3erefto tigo 3ayni." [So you could make it after all] You moved over to them, sharing a tight hug.
"Tab3an. Mesh hafawet awel seba2 lebatalet El 3alem." [of course, we wouldn't miss the world champions first race] Marawan kissed your cheek patting the side of your helmet. "Mestaniyeenek." [Theyre waiting for you] He gestured to the waiting interviewer. "Mashi mashi." [ok ok]
"Salam!" [take care] The girl waved, making you turn back and blow her a kiss.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Plopping on the P1 chair, you slumped tiredly leaning your head back. The room felt tense. With Max Verstappen in P2 and Killian Kraus in P3 ( two drivers who managed to overtake Leclerc in the last second right after you did ).
"That was a good overtake on lap 5." Kraus pointed out, looking at the screen that showed the highlights. He was trying to break the ice, especially with your teammate looking at you with such a negative expression that could be described as hate or despise, regret, anger. "Which one?" You asked yawning, waving slightly to the camera who was filming the three of yoy.
"Turn seven." "On Gasly?" "Yeah." "Eh, I could've done better." You shrugged, standing up once Jj stopped by in the room. "There's always room to improve." You sighed as he handed you the face mask and your sunglasses. You stood in a corner facing the wall to hide your face as you took off your helmet and balaclava, replacing them with a black mask, the 1st place cap and the sunglasses.
"It's time for the podium guys." "Here we go." You muttered tiredly pulling the second half of your race suit up, putting your hands through the sleeves. "And in first place, racing for the first time in seven years and adding another win to her unending winning streak. Give it up for Seventeen!" You could hear the crowd screaming as you walked out on the stage waving to the masses as you stepped up on your highest pedestal, raising your hands up bowing down.
You took your cap off once the Austrian Anthem started playing, skipping the one which would've been yours. You could hear and see the red bull team below you singing and smiling, which only made you crack a smile. Putting the cap back on your head as you received your trophy, quickly raising it up for your little family to see.
Max received his next with a forced smile and Killian after with pursed lips. Cracking the bottle open, you ran forward to the edge, spraying Your team principal and engineer.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"You are on a winning streak are you not?" "I am." You nodded, leaning back in the chair. Press conferences were always so boring. "How long has it been going?" "Oh wow . . . like forever? I don't think I've lost that many karting races. And I've never lost races in F3 and F2—" "You were lapping everyone." "Yes, I was." You nodded chuckling.
"Hopefully, the streak continues throughout the rest of the season. and maybe I can win all the races next year and set another record." You wiggled your eyebrows excitedly. "You guys did go back to school, I like these questions." You giggled making the whole room erupt in laughter minus the Dutch boy sitting by your side.
Once you walked out of the room you were dragged by your performance coach to the Redbull motorhome for an ice bath. "Can I go into the out now." You whined shivering in the inflatable tub, one had out giving pats and belly rubs to the clearly delighted Australian Shepard.
"You're so lucky, protected by that cute fur of yours." You cooed at him scratching under his ear. "Oh, I was starting to think you'd skip." You joked looking at the Dutch driver in swim trunks. Max only pursed his lips shrugging as he slipped in gently beside you.
"Fuck dit is koud." [fuck this is cold] He cursed under his breath, sinking into the water, watching you with the dog. "What's his name?" He asked breaking the silence after a few moments. "Aussie." You replied ruffling the doggo's head. "What? Who names their dog Aussie?" He looked at you confused and you could only blink. "I did." You furrowed your eyebrows. "Oh . . ." He replied quietly, sinking deeper into the tub till the cold water covered his nose.
First time having a conversation with his teammate, his biggest rival, his biggest ally ( and childhood crush ) and he killed it, literally. Stabbed it right in the face.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"She's scary." Lando shivered at the thought of your black helmet overtaking him. A certain group of drivers were clubbing, celebrating the race even though none of them won. And the said winner wasn't attending.
"I understand why some people call her a demon now. All she's missing is a tail and horns. I bet her eyes are red." Pierre grumbled sipping from his glass. "You're all sulking way too much." The unaffected Alex Albon commented. "Us? We're not even her teammates. Look at Max, he's dead." Charles pointed out at the Redbull driver that was practically unconscious from how much he was drinking. "If she really never loses, we're done, mate. Our only option is to wait till she retires."
Although Max was almost black out drunk, he still heard faint chatter from time to time. "only option is to wait till she retires." Max liked you as a driver, not a driver that was taking his wins away from him. 'Maybe we don't have to wait. We can force her to retire.' was the drunk though that passed through his brain. A thought that he should've left behind when he walked out of the club that night.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
MEDIA DAY Thursday May 4 2023 — Hungaroring, Hungary
"Hello, my name is Max Verstappen." "And my name is Seventeen and we are . . . I forgot sorry. Some one was walking by with cotton candy." You chuckled nervously looking back at the camera.
"We're playing 20 questions, with the goal of getting to know each other more. And by the end, the team are going to ask us 5 questions each and we have to know the answers to that." Max explained as you rocked your chair slowly to face him. "Alright. Who goes first?"
You ended up doing rock paper scissors, with Max winning. "Who is your favourite f1 driver?" You grimace thinking. "Umm, uhh. I say this and I don't have to hide my face anymore." You laughed. "I'm going to go with Seb." You nodded.
"Your favourite race circuit?" "I'll have to go with spa. Yours?" "Um, does it have to be a current track? Mine doesn't exist yet." You chuckled laughing. Through the game you found yourself loosening up, fining yourself more comfortable with your teammate. Max wasn't though, putting on a smile and forcing a laugh every once in a while.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
RACE DAY Sunday May 7 2023 — Hungaroring, Hungary
Lap 48 :: "Now on the soft rubber, we are watching Seventeen gaining with every metre onto her teammate ahead, Max Verstappen, her rival for the championship. She will pull out of the slipstream. Seventeen is on the attack, defence is on for Verstappen. The bulls going wheel to wheel." "Verstappen goes on the outside line but there will be better traction for Seventeen who stands on the throttle. She'll get DRS again and will fight into turn one. Can Verstappen offer a defensive line on the inside?"
"He's got no other choice! The bulls are wheel to wheel! Around the outside, will it be the lead? Its close between the two! The crowds are roaring and Seventeen takes the lead of the Miami grand prix having started fifth on the grid and losing positions down to tenth after the spin out on lap 22. She's passed all of them."
"Thanks, Max." You said through the radio as you felt yourself heave.
Lap 52 :: "Do you think . . . We can put on some music?" You said once you turned on the radio. "Because my ears feel empty and I have a horrible singing voice. I mean, There's no one else for us to overtake, no?" You could hear Jj's laugh over the radio, hearing his smile. "We are 14 seconds ahead of Max. So I guess maybe? Let me look into it."
it only took a few minutes before you were listening to Michael Jackson, singing along. "Cause this is thrillerrr!" You hummed along, your radio popping up on the stadium's speakers. "And that is, Seventeen listening to music, comfortable in P1."
Final Lap :: "Outstanding performance for Seventeen. She comes out of the final corners— And for the first time ever! Seventeen wins the Miami grand prix with a masterclass of performance! From tenth of the grid, to first." "Another one-two for red bull! Fantastic performance!"
"Wahoo!" You cheered pulling the steering wheel out once the car was turned off in front of the P1 board. Getting up on the halo, you celebrate by doing one more handstand, doing a leaning forward front-split this time. Once you got down, you fell into the hugs from your team, happiness clearly written in your eyes. "Thank you guys for all your hard work. Thank you so much!" You hugged and shook hands, sadly being ignored by Jos Verstappen but you didn't care.
Being up on the top of the grid again felt exhilarating and adrenaline fuelling. "I love you all so much." You blew kisses as you retreated to the cool down room. Getting up on the podium again felt euphoric. Raising your trophy for your team to see, you got down on your knees pressing the trophy to your forehead before hugging it tightly.
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elrondhalfelven · 5 months
Note
Do Rich Rider next!
1. favorite thing about them
oh i love him i love how he’s genuinely just a completely average guy - earth heroes “average guys” tend to always be super geniuses ie. peter parker. but rich is genuinely just a completely average normal dude. he flipped burgers when he wasn’t nova-ing! he barely scraped through high school (again, cause of the nova thing!). he was just a genuinely normal teenager with a complex cause of his super smart little brother. becoming nova was both the best and worst thing to ever happen to him.
2. least favorite thing about them
man is lowkey self-obsessed in the sense a depressed person is. everything is his fault, he’s pathetic, he’s wasting everyone’s time. he was like this even before he got powers - he clearly has self-worth issues that just get exacerbated the more he survives. clearly not the only person who clocked this because rich going into therapy was such a huge step!
3. favorite line
Holy shit he’s such an icon
“Let’s scream in his face anyway.” 🥺
“I pulled [Annihilus] inside out and saved the universe. What have YOU done lately, Tony?”
“Shut it, warcrimes.”
“I loved him too. You know that, right?” I’m UNWELL
“Please, Rich. I think you need to talk to someone about this.” “About the fan-sites?” “About the fact you’re dying.” he’s UNWELL
“Let’s review. Your ride is toast. I’m Nova. You’re dead. Allow me to demonstrate.” HOT.
4. brOTP
sam alexander. they’re brothers!!!
also the new warriors. that group tends to be ignored these days as a very formative time in Rich’s life - i’m due a reread, i’m part of the problem, i haven’t read that in over 12 years! but yeah, so many fond memories there <3
5. OTP
peter quill. they’ve just made so much sense forever
6. nOTP
idk if I really have one tbh? he’s not popular enough for these to form
7. random headcanon
Rich’s real superpower is that he’s actually turned into a surprisingly good cook. He finds the process quite relaxing. Which the guardians really appreciate because Pete “no patience” Quill burns everything because he gets distracted and, while they won’t admit it, they did grow accustomed to earth food while they were stuck down there.
8. unpopular opinion
Thank god he never made it into the MCU. Since 2006 has been going from strength to strength in the comics (a part from the few years when he was dead!). Since he came back in 2016/17 I don’t think anything he has been in has been bad. He either has the magic touch or he’s insanely lucky for dodging MCU synergy and having writers who clearly love him!!
9. song I associate with him
Fortress by Queens of the Stone Age
Watch me While I Bloom by Hayley Williams
10. favorite picture of them
juann cabal Rich is my little guy his big brown eyes <3
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ddoxhan · 1 year
Text
letters from me to you
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every letter you didn't send to jimin
word count : 0.9k words
genre : angst; you loved jimin more than you ever imagined, and it hurts that you still do; non-idol! karina x gn! reader
t/w : none :) other than a relationship breaking apart and there's absolutely nothing that can be done about it
a/n : unrequited love, something so ever ethereal yet burns a hole in your heart and leaves a scar you will never forget. but does it hurt more when it becomes unrequited? since it wasn't from the beginning, and you had a taste of that person's love.
— 26/01/2014 | sunny ☀️
to my dearest jimin,
happy first anniversary! it's been 12 months, 365 days, 8760 hours, 525,600 minutes since you said yes under those bright stars on this very day last year. time has gone past so fast yet so slow, when I look into your eyes, everything around us seems to slow down and allow me to drown myself in those galaxy-like orbs of yours. you know I've never been expressive with my words hence this letter but still, I can never find the very words to convey my love to you. however, these four words might actually just do the trick.
I love you, forever.
your love
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—  11/04/2015 | spring sun 🌸
to my crybaby jimin,
don't get mad just from reading 'crybaby' but I can't help but call you that. not after you so adorably sniffled while watching 'the notebook'. I just wanted to squeeze those cheeks of yours but I knew you were going to be upset for breaking the mood, so I held myself back. okay, this was definitely not the purpose of this letter, but oh well, I just wanted you to know you're the cutest.
happy birthday, my baby jimin! once my baby, forever my baby. I hope you had a blast today after been to the amusement park, cafes and even the late night movie later before the end of your big day. I have never been more blessed with a gift like you to be in my life and better, as my girlfriend.
once again, happy birthday. let's spend this day together in the years that are to come. I love you, forever.
your beloved
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— 08/07/2015 | cloudy ☁️
to my precious jimin,
I know I'm in the wrong so I am not going to make up any excuses to justify what I did. you felt hurt and neglected by my actions and nothing can ever undo those wounds. but will you let me make it up to you? if you need time to think, take as long as you need because I'll be right here waiting until you give me a chance to prove my love for you that never faded. if anything, I only find myself loving you more than I did the day before.
work has doubled in amount but I should have known to try harder to spend time with you despite that. it is my responsibility to do that, yet I chose the easy way out and hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby. please forgive me. I love you so so much, I love you, forever.
your dumb bear (still in regret)
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— 17/03/2016 | rainy 🌧️
to my wonderful and amazing jimin,
there is nothing special about today, surprise! although there isn't a special occasion today, I want to let you know that every day that I spend with you is special and every moment we have together is engraved in memory forever no matter what happens.
I know I can be cheesy but I feel like every time I tell you that I love you, it just feels more overwhelming and unbelievable. so unbelievable that I have the most beautiful; in and out; person in the whole world as my girlfriend. it would be better if one day, it would change to my wife. I can already tell how your face would start burning up and the tip of your ears cutely beet red. even though I had told you I love you numerous times, it never feels enough. I love you, forever.
yours forever
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—  02/10/2017
to my lovely jimin,
it's been five years since we've been together, and I know how you are when something or someone upsets you. if you don't talk to me or even be next to me, I would not know what to say or do to help you, honey. we promised to never go to bed with complicated feelings, regardless of whether it be about us or someone else. you said it is not good for the health if we keep our feelings bottled up.
if it's about me, please, please tell me what I did wrong. tell me what I need to fix so that you would not be upset. please, talk to me, jimin. let me be by your side as I always did. I love you, forever.
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—  19/01/2018
to my one and only jimin,
please take me back, I love you so much. please don't leave me all alone in this shared home of ours. it's too painful to see the memories of us, filled with happiness and joy. let me still call us, us. please, please come home and whisper sweet nothings like you used to, say that everything was all a prank. that you went overboard with the joke. please bring me into your embrace and stroke my back, tell me everything's alright, we're alright.
I love you, jimin, you know that right? I love you, forever.
yours
.
.
.
.
you know, I've always imagined us walking down the aisle as I take you in my hand and swear the oath to be each other's seasons, side by side all the way through our future days together. but sadly, all I could do now was clap for you, your happiness with your lover, staring at each other so lovingly on the pedestal. if you were happy, so would I be.
because I've always loved and will love you forever, my jimin.
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fountainpenguin · 4 days
Text
Small 'Fic Posting News
I moved a lot of early FOP character studies and warm-ups to my unrevealed Riddle WIPs collection on AO3, so they're easily on hand for me to tag and post when I feel ready.
A lot of these are things I enjoyed, but didn't feel comfy sharing back in 2016/17. They're cool to look back on and I'm ready to let them go. Some are suggestive, some are emotionally intense, some are very simple character studies, so as always, tread with care.
I also think they're neat because they don't build on each other, so they're pretty low-brainpower reads (imo), which some people may like.
I don't expect to post one of these old things every week, but they'll probably show up on Mondays or Wednesdays or something like that (Once Life of a Loser stops posting on Wednesdays, which is in two weeks).
As per the norm, M and E works will be under the ScarletPenguin pseud, so if you know that's not your cup of tea and you see the email, you can delete it without needing to open it or check tags.
These old pieces will be exclusive to AO3 (Organization, easier for my brain, etc.) On the off chance anything becomes a Prompt, it will go on FFN.
Not planning to do Tumblr announcements or cover images for them. They're off to the side for the people interested. Might shout out a few favorites, though.
AO3 series to subscribe to or avoid at your preference:
🌈 Rainbow Train - All FOP 'fics that aren't 130 Prompts (i.e. It will include these old pieces). 🖤 Off the Rails - Stuff that doesn't fit my main AUs (Cloudlands, City Lights, Reedfilter). Most old pieces will go here since they're non-canon now. ❤️ Red Train - Romantic or sensual works (All FOP AUs).
Additional reminder:
🚂 130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash - Everything in this one-shot series is G or T. If you feel uneasy about Rainbow Train, you can filter M and E stuff out by subscribing just to this one!
Under the cut, I have examples (i.e. screenshots of these WIP titles and summaries like what you would see when scrolling AO3) to help people get a feel for the vibe.
Suggestive or gross summaries & commentary; proceed at own discretion. Obviously, #ridspoilers.
Reminder - These are WIP screenshots. The pieces will have proper tags and meta before they're posted. Titles may also change.
Bonus disclaimer: If you see a line in an old WIP that seems familiar... I do yoink things from these sometimes because I wasn't planning to post them, yes <3
This will be the first one:
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Exactly what it says on the tin- Super simple.
Here are a few more examples (No specific order)-
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A scene from Frayed Knots I've always regretted cutting even though it was for the best, but y'know what? It deserves to be shared because it's funny :)
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Another moment from canon translated into my style! There's also a "Flappy finds out Gary and Betty knew about magic the whole time" bit somewhere in here that I had to throw out after "Solo" happened.
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I will not apologize for my deity break-up drama. I might apologize for Prince Thursday's seasonal torment, but he's the nature spirit of Leaves, so-
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Unpleasant non-con / dubcon situations... We know how this goes.
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And the obligatory sequel to the above. That pixie sure can character arc!
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Very cursed flirty pixies, my beloved...
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Do you have any idea how weird it feels to post pre-reincarnation pieces out of context... skldjf...
It's gross! It's goofy! Cupid's ancestors took her mobility aid because they're unpleasant people! We just keep winning!!
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Uncut version of the Ambrolara scenes! I sadly cut some of my favorites lines from "Hate That I Love You" because it would've crossed the line... but I love them....... my cursed OCs who are awful for each other.
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No one understands Sanderson's mind, not even me 7 years later... He can do whatever he wants forever.
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Foop's romantic scenes during the late-Prompts era are some of my favorite warm-ups... He's here, he's queer, he's having a mental breakdown spitting and crying over his dad not noticing him sneaking in a girl, he was forced to marry someone he desperately does not want to be intimate with, he loves his mom, he's losing the power struggle against his alt personality, he's this close to losing his inheritance, he calls his wife his mistress's name... No one is doing it like him. Probably because he's doing SO bad!!
The preview scene you see in "Trouble Beyond Paradise" finally broke me... It's been a favorite since 2017 and I just really want to share... That one's a multi-chapter and I hope you guys like it. I love Foop/Anti-Marigold and their weird situation... Like, of COURSE if Poof has severe anxiety about accidentally forcing them into dubcon, Foop's genius idea is to get the first time over with before Poof/Goldie can bind them into it. So funny. They are silly little guys... the people have a right to know...
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Very old anatomy study. It's about bees ripping apart when they mate. It's... sort of cute? Mostly horrific and full of pain and sobbing? :'D If you pick this up, you will very quickly see why I never intended to post it, but... It's 2024, baby! Welcome to my mind...
- This one will likely get a new title, so be careful if this is one you want to avoid. - Where is that post that goes like "Why do all my ace friends write the most bizarre sex scenes?" followed by "Have to throw in something interesting for us." sdfkj. Yeah... It's me, I'm that guy. And this kind of guy.
And more!! I hope you like reading these old pieces, but if they are not your thing, that is perfectly fine. Some of these are not even my thing, but sometimes you have to write it to know that! Sometimes you knew that and wrote it anyway because ??? idk.
I think it's neat to see my style change over the years. I hope you get some joy out of them, even if they're hyperspecific.
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kittyamore0 · 2 years
Text
𝓜𝔂 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 ᥫ᭡
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Summary: Elias Del, the sweet 15 year old boy, who you used to babysit at the age of 18, has grown up! And it seems like he doesn't want you to continue missing that...experience.
Pairing: Yandere! Male OC x GN! Babysitter! Reader
Fandom: Yanderes, horror, yandere! Male, male! OC, dark romance, yancore
Genre: horror, dark romance, head cannons
POV: second person
Rating: SFW with NSFW mentions
CW: 3 years age gap, manipulation, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, male masturbation, innocent acts/victimizing the guilty, murder, animal murder, breaking of neck, very, very, very lovesick male! Yan, taking your pictures without consent, notebook of you/love notebook, room shrine, stalking, stealing personal value a.k.a clothes, cups, underwear, toothbrush, etc...
Age gap: 21 24, 3 years
ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who've you been babysitting since he was 13 and you were 16! Now, at the age of 18, it is your time to resign and start a new life at your dream uni!
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who you knew always had a crush on you since he was 13! 6/12/2016 or June 12th, 2016; When you were at the age of 17 and Elias was 14. You were looking for the remote to his High school project, until you found a pink notebook covered in hearts, letting your curiosity get to you, you opened the note book
and what you found was a few good pictures of you that you had posted in your social media, your name with a heart trapping in it with the words 'i love you', 'mine', 'they're so cute', and a whole paragraph about how much he loves, what he loves about and more!
You giggled at the thought of the sweet boy having a crush on you, a simple, small crush. He'll get over it though! Or so you thought. You placed the notebook down, and spotted the remote near his lamp. You quickly grabbed it and ran out of his room.
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, currently 14 by the time of '6/12/2016 or June 12th, 2016,' who noticed how giddy you were after returning from his room, as he eyed you suspiciously. When you had gone to the bathroom, he ran up to his room, only to find his love notebook moved in a different spot than it originally was.
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, currently 14 by the time of '6/12/2016 or June 12th, 2016,' whose cheeks go absolutely red at the fact you saw his love notebook. What did you think of him now? A freak? Weirdo? Creep? Stalker? Or the better alternative, which was a lovesick, sweet boy who just had a teeny, tiny (even though it's bigger than teeny, tiny) crush on his babysitter! Oh, he hoped it was the alternative.
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who asks for goodnight kisses and pouts whenever you reject the thought. "Can i have a goodnight kiss?" You sighed. "Eli, you're too old for a goodnight kiss," he groaned and rolled his eyes. "So what? That doesn't stop Brahms Heelshire from asking for one!" You shook your head and chuckled at his childish manners. "Okay, then..." You leaned in forward and placed a tender kiss on his temples. His heart pounds with excitement, his eyes dilated, replaced with seemingly heart pupils and his breath ragged. "Goodnight, Eli..."
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who begs his parents to invite you to some of their holidays, and gets all excited when you do come. "[Name], [Name!], lets make cookies together!", "Oh, you got me a gift...? Tha thank you! I got you a gift too!", "horror or Christmas movie?"
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who gets so offensive and jealous when one of his friends plans to hit on you, or talk about you like they plan to be more than just the kids you babysits friend. "Dude, is that your babysitter?" Elias raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Yea, and?" His friends eyes widened at Elias. "They're hot! What do you mean by 'yea, and?'" Elias held back a scowl forming in his throat. "Don't even try, Trevor. You're bitchless. You can't pull, so what makes you think you can pull MY hot ass babysitter?"
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who's an absolute sweetheart and listens to you a lot, but when a back up nanny comes in because you can't watch him. Dear lord. He has such a bad attitude. He either wont listen to the nanny or he'll do the opposite of what they said. He'll stay in the room all day, and he''l sometimes purposely get them fired if he really doesn't like them. "[Name!], why'd you leave me with that monster? They were horrible! They were mean to me and Stella! You're so much better, so much nicer...don't leave us again..."
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who has a sweet, golden retriever who he named 'Stella,' he had easily gotten jealous of Stella. You were always praising her, giving her kisses, cuddling with her, petting her, napping with her on the couch. He had it. He was going to go insane! This damn dog didn't deserve your attention! HE did! Why can't you see that? He wanted some relief, he needed relief
So, the only solution he thought of was...if he had gotten rid of her. "Stella, come out here girl!" He was home alone with Stella, waiting in the backyard for her to run out that typical doggy door. He cocked his head to the side, and let a sweet, sickly smile take over his lips. He hugged Stella with a tight hold, letting his arms quickly run up to her neck. She whined and whimpered, scratching at his skin. He let out a maniac-like laugh when he felt her head jolt to the side, in an impossible position, and her neck let out a...snap!
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who came crying to you, stuffing his face into your chest. "My par parents found Ste Stellas body! An and she was all man mangled up up!"
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, whose eyes were all puffed up and red, so was yours. Your arms draped over his body. His face still in your chest from earlier as he refused to move from that position, claiming it was 'comforting,' but what was hiding on the face was the same sweet, sicking smile he wore during Stellas passing.
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who watches as you undress yourself, getting ready to hop in the shower that was in your attached bathroom. His breath all uneven and the length in those tight jeans grows warm and suffocating.
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who goes ahead and sneaks into your room while your showering, and take some of his favorite pair of underwear (or bra) shirts and pants that belong to you
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who uses your lovely-smelling clothes for pleasure, stuffing his face into the soft fabric while he lets out filthy noises and his hand fastens its pace.
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who claims 'he has no idea how your clothes keep disappearing!' "Im 15! why would i take them? I respect your privacy and items!" Liar.
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who was crushed when he heard you were resigning. After all he'd done for you.
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who starts crying and begs for you not to resign and to stay with him. "Please, please, please, please...Im sorry if i did anything wrong, please! Don't lea leave me!"
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who you have to let go. Hah, just kidding. If you're going, then hes coming along. You just wont know it. You cant escape him, [Name]
ELIAS DEL Your sweet 15 year old boy, who is now 21! has been stalking you ever since you resigned from babysitting. He knows your new current job, where you live, where your uni is, where your favorite place is, where your favorite shop is, etc...
ELIAS DEL Your sweet Elias, who has made it his daily hobby to take constant pictures of you, tape them on his shrine room in his apartment and stare at them 24/7!
ELIAS DEL Your sweet Elias, who finally worked up the courage to meet you at your favorite coffee shop. "[Name...?]" You turned around to see a familiar man, but then it clicked in your mind. "Oh, my god...Elias!" He let out a slight chuckle, as he embraced you. Now, you were the one face planted in his chest.
ELIAS DEL Your sweet Elias, who had gotten your phone number after that interaction, yay!
ELIAS DEL Your sweet Elias, who also got the courage to do something else...
...He made it in front of your house by midnight, as he snuck his way through one of your windows. Careful not to make any of the floor boards shriek, he entered your room with ease. He admired your sleeping figure with a lovestruck expression on his face. He softly grabbed your wrist and slipped a rough rope on them, making both of them tightening on each other.
Elias finally had you, after 6 years. He had lost you once, but never again. He's never letting you go again, ever.
ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩
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darkmaga-retard · 17 hours
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Failed presidential candidate Hillary Clinton wants Americans spreading what she calls "disinformation" to be slapped with criminal charges.
She voiced this out during a Sept. 17 appearance on "The Rachel Maddow Show" on MSNBC. According to the former first lady, holding American individuals accountable through civil or criminal charges could serve as a warning to deter the distribution of "disinformation."
Clinton also acknowledged the importance of indicting foreign actors, namely the Russians, who are responsible for what she dubs as election interference. However, Americans who play a role in amplifying disinformation shouldn't be overlooked, she added.
"I think it's important to indict the Russians … who were engaged in direct election interference and boosting [former President Donald] Trump back in 2016. But I also think there are Americans who are engaged in this kind of propaganda. Whether they should be civilly, or even in some cases criminally, charged is something that would be a better deterrence," Clinton told program host Rachel Maddow.
The former secretary of state under the Obama administration endorsed the ongoing efforts of the Department of State and the Department of Justice to reveal the extent of Moscow's influence in the U.S. elections.
Clinton, who ran against and lost to Trump in the 2016 presidential election, has long maintained that her defeat was due to Russian interference. She described these efforts as merely scratching the surface of a much larger issue, adding: "There is a far distance to go."
The former first lady's comments also touched on the broader issue of foreign influence in American politics – warning that the U.S.'s enemies such as Moscow, Beijing and Tehran are seeking to sway voters. "We are not going to let adversaries, whether it’s Russia, China, Iran, or anybody else, basically try to influence Americans as to how we should vote in picking our leaders," she ultimately remarked.
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ausetkmt · 6 months
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Donald Trump's Hate Has No Place in Black America. Let's Remind Him in November.
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We are seven months out from the most consequential election in our nation’s history, and Black voters know what’s up: A recent survey conducted by Black pollster Cornell Belcher’s firm asked 800 Black voters in battleground states to identify the single greatest threat to the Black community.
Their answer? A second Donald Trump presidency.
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We should not be surprised by this finding. Trump is prepared to enact – and in many cases, reenact – policies that will do great harm to the Black community and to communities of color. He is expected to authorize mass deportations, wage war on the federal civil service (of which Black employees comprise 18 percent), cut taxes for the rich at the expense of the middle class, fight to make healthcare more expensive and less accessible and support an abortion ban that will only worsen the maternal mortality crisis.
While we have focused a lot on what Trump would do during a second term with the stroke of his pen, we cannot forget about the damage he inflicted on our community as president without even lifting a finger. Over his four years in office, Trump normalized a culture of racism and xenophobia that trickled down from the highest levels of our government to everyday interactions in-person and online. The former president’s social media posts and speeches were laced with a mix of dog whistles and outright hate speech.
How could we ever forget his claim that the attendees of a white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Va. were “very fine people?” Or when he ordered members of the Proud Boys to “stand back and stand by” after being asked to condemn the white nationalist militia group? Or when he suggested that four Democratic members of Congress – all women of color – should “go back…[to the] places from which they came” in a tweet that a Republican congressman even described as racist?
Coming from the mouth of the President of the United States, this kind of rhetoric signaled that hate did indeed have a place in his America and gave top cover to those who realized they no longer had to keep their racism under wraps.
Consequently, racial violence skyrocketed during Trump’s presidency. In fact, this trend started before he even took office. The Washington Post found that counties that hosted a Trump rally in 2016 experienced a 226 percent increase in hate crimes in the months that followed. From 2016 to 2017, hate crimes across the country increased by 17 percent. From 2018 to 2019, deadly hate crimes more than doubled. And in 2020, more hate crimes were reported than in any year since 2001. Perhaps unsurprisingly, alleged civil rights violations went under-investigated under Trump’s DOJ. During its first two years, the Trump DOJ opened 60 percent fewer civil rights cases than did the Obama DOJ and 50 percent fewer than the Bush DOJ.
For those who think that the extent of the harm inflicted by Trump’s racism can be fully captured in those statistics, think again. In a multitude of ways, the Black community continues to suffer from the flames of hatred that Trump fanned while he was president. For example, racism is exacerbating the Black mental health crisis: Black youth experienced a 144 percent increase in suicide rates from 2007 to 2020, with both institutional and interpersonal racism identified as strong risk factors driving this trend.
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While Trump was president for only a portion of that period, he was active in spreading racism – including promoting the Barack Obama birtherism lie – for almost the entirety of it.
Speaking of Obama, the election of our nation’s first Black president helps us understand why the election of Trump – which once seemed unthinkable – was actually an inevitable reaction to Black progress. Study after study has pointed to racial resentment as a significant driver of the support Trump received from his voters. His base wanted trickle-down racism, and trickle-down racism is what they got.
Fast forward to today, and like any other proverbial old dog, Trump is clearly stuck on his old tricks. On the campaign trail this time around, he has already evoked Hitler, saying that immigrants are “poisoning the blood” of our country, and suggesting that Black voters appreciate him because he is being “discriminated against” in the legal system. Naturally, Republicans have made him their nominee for the third time. But while he might speak for their party, we do not have to let him speak for our country. Not again.
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In 2016, Trump promised his supporters the ability to hate openly with impunity, and he most certainly delivered. Now, he’s ready to do it all over again. And while it might be tempting to give into fear and cynicism, we should take hope in recognizing that thanks to our community showing up for Joe Biden in 2020, we helped elect a president who is committed to aggressively prosecuting hate crimes, who has appointed judges with a respect for civil rights, and who recognizes that “hate never goes away, it only hides.”
Donald Trump has never hidden his hate. This fall, let’s show him once again that it has no place in our America.
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sapphyreopal5 · 2 months
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The other day I posted about this movie Jared Padalecki was in, his very first movie mind you! I woke up this morning and noticed my left knee was KILLING me! Horrible pain, couldn't even stand on it. Massaged it a little bit and my lower leg too, STILL was killing me. I was thinking about the movie I wrote about and also the car accident Jared was in a couple years ago and heard about him having problems with his left knee. I thought to myself "maybe this is a weird sign I'm meant to watch this movie Jared was in back in 1999 today". After I let my dog out and sat down while he did his business, I got up when he was done to let us both back in my house. Lo and behold, my knee isn't hurting anymore! Feels like a weird confirmation to me that yes, this is why I woke up with my left knee hurting and struggling to stand on my left leg over it.
So, I started watching that movie A Little Inside (1999) with Jared in it, which used to be called Baseball and the Ballerina. I noticed quite a few parallels in this movie that I thought were noteworthy both to other roles he would play AND then also to things in my life ('cause timing you know?).
At the start of this movie, it was said that Ed Mills quit baseball after "this week's tragic news" pertaining to his wife who died in a car accident. While Emily Walker on Walker didn't die in a car crash, Cordell did end up getting the red Mustang back from Hoyt down the road a while after Emily was murdered.
Jared's character Matt Nelson introduced himself to Ed as coming from Sammy's garage on route 33. Was Jared not Sam "Sammy" Winchester on Supernatural?
One of the cars that Ed was assigned to repair at the mechanics shop he worked was a red Mustang (not sure of the year) that he faced an inquiry at work about after he was an hour late because he was putting together his daughter's ballet clothes before going to school. Ed gets into a spat with Matt saying to "get off my batt" (at least that's what I heard ha ha) and it looks like it's Matt who is finishing up the Mustang for him. Kind of like how Jared's character Cordell Walker's wife Emily Walker on his show Walker had a Red Mustang he ended up getting back from Hoyt. Same one Stella lost at one point to car thieves and miraculously cried about it to them and got the car back (oh the lack of realism in these shows!).
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4. I wrote a few days here about the love story of Eros and Psyche (and the adversary in this case being Aphrodite) and mentioned that Eros is the Greek version of the Roman Cupid. Last night I was researching randomly after seeing a Tiktok claiming the Cupid lip shape is the rarest lip shape out there (and saw some things about the cupid dent in lips). I also reblogged a post someone else made the other day here talking about Jared being accident prone. In this movie around the 1:11:26 time mark, Nancy reads a from book called The Klutzy Cupid and says "there once was a clutzy cupid".
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5. I couldn't help but notice when Matt is in the stands there's a bit of a movie blooper (maybe?) where 2 seats are numbered 17 that show up around Jared's character who is seen wearing a Clippers hat (that has a ship on it). I apologize the quality of the images isn't very good but it's the best I could do with stills from this movie. I promise if you watch this cute movie, you'll see that these seat numbers do in fact say 17 and are in 2 very different spots. Anyways, I wrote quite a bit lately about Friday the 17th being bad luck in Italy AND Friday the 13th being bad luck in the USA.
The reason I even thought to watch this movie is because I was researching for another post. I discovered this Facebook post Jared made on Friday June 17, 2016 for a #FlashbackFriday kind of post. Did I not talk before about Friday the 17th being a bad luck day in Italy, and also before about how dates with both 13 and 17 in them are bad luck days for Italian Americans? Oh yeah, and the third image below is the one picture Jared picked to have in his post. And yes, the seat numbered 17 is still by his right ear in that screenshot too. Hmmmm....
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6. Towards the end of this movie, Ed kisses Sarah the mom of the other girl who his daughter's been having play dates with. Turns out this woman was also a friend of his wife's before she died. Weird, didn't Cordell Walker on Walker Texas Ranger end up hooking up with (and dating) Emily Walker's best friend right until the very end of the show? Funny, the parallels going on here...
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NIGHTWISH Singer And SABATON Drummer Welcome Their Second Child
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NIGHTWISH singer Floor Jansen and SABATON drummer Hannes Van Dahl have welcomed their second child, a daughter named Lucy.
Jansen and Van Dahl already have a six-year-old daughter named Freja, who was born on March 15, 2017.
The Dutch-born vocalist revealed the news in a social media post earlier today (Friday, October 20). She shared a photo of her, Hannes, Freja and Lucy holding hands, and she wrote: "There she is! With great happiness we can announce the birth of our second daughter Lucy! Big sister Freja is delighted with our dark haired little girl too!
"Health is not a given fact, and so it's humbling to report that both our baby girl as mom are in a great one! We are enjoying these special moments to the fullest and ask for understanding of our privacy in this intimate time! Big thanks for all the love and support we received during the pregnancy! We have now welcomed our dear Lucy into this beautiful world".
Shortly before Freja was born, Hannes was asked by Spain's Metal Journal whether his family situation would have an impact on his ability to tour with SABATON. Hannes said: "Well, you know, as far as I'm concerned, nothing will really change, 'cause this is what I do, an this is… this is what I do to make a living. People have had kids before in this business. So, to stop any worries — 'cause I know a lot of people are worried [about me] quitting the band — I will stay in the band. And as far as I can say, when it's time, I need to go and be there with my family. But when I've done that, I'm going back to touring. So I won't leave. I will be there."
Jansen herself had spoken about the challenges of raising a child while being in a touring band like NIGHTWISH. She told Finland's Radio Rock in 2016: "Of course, it's a very challenging combination, and I was very happy that the way [NIGHTWISH is] today — or, actually, have always been — it's a very open group; we can talk about things. And the guys, actually, were curious. A few months ago, we started talking about it, like, 'So, 2017… How about kids? Yeah?' So it's great to think about things together: how can we combine it? Also 'cause my partner is in a successful band, touring a lot. Yeah, then you need the cooperation of the people that you are family with also. So I am not afraid that won't work. It will be a challenge, for sure, but, yeah, a little SABATON or NIGHTWISH daycare program sounds lovely, doesn't it? [Laughs]"
Jansen also dismissed rumors that she would leave the band after welcoming her first child. She told Mariskal Rock TV: "No, I won't [quit NIGHTWISH]. I love this way too much; don't worry. You don't even have negative speculations one way or another. Things are great, and let's keep on doing this forever."
NIGHTWISH played its last concert before its current break from touring on June 17 at Lemonsoft Stadion in Vaasa.
In November 2022, Floor revealed that she was "cancer free" after undergoing surgery to have a tumor removed following a breast cancer diagnosis.
In April, NIGHTWISH surprised fans by announcing that the band was not going to be playing any live shows for the foreseeable future and would be not be touring in support of the group's next studio album, which is tentatively due in 2024.
Floor's debut solo album "Paragon", arrived in March.
As part of NIGHTWISH, Jansen has landed two number one albums in Finland, and Top Five albums in Austria, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, the Netherlands, Norway, Sweden and Switzerland.
Born in the Netherlands, Jansen joined her first band, one of the world's first symphonic metal bands, AFTER FOREVER, when she was only 16 years old. The group went on to release five albums from 2000 to 2007, before they broke up in 2009.
Jansen's next band, REVAMP, released two albums in 2010 and 2013, before she joined NIGHTWISH as a full-time member. NIGHTWISH's first album with Jansen as the lead singer was 2015's "Endless Forms Most Beautiful", which landed in Top 10s around the world. This was followed by 2020's "Human. :II: Nature." , which was also an international success.
Jansen has toured extensively with the band and appeared on three of NIGHTWISH's live albums "Showtime, Storytime", "Vehicle Of Spirit" and "Decades: Live In Buenos Aires".
In 2019, Jansen participated in the popular Dutch TV show "Beste Zangers" where she scored a big hit with "Phantom Of The Opera" together with Henk Poort. She was recognized with a Dutch Popprijs award — a prestigious accolade for artists that has made important contributions to Dutch music. In the same year, her first solo tour sold out in less than 24 hours.
Jansen performed live with NIGHTWISH for the first time on October 1, 2012 at Showbox Sodo in Seattle, Washington following the abrupt departure of the band's lead singer of five years, Anette Olzon. Jansen officially joined NIGHTWISH in 2013.
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cryingmeganekko · 1 month
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Chihayafuru Hitomebore/ Love at First Sight symbolism
I know this is already a reddit post but I wanted to delve into it a little more so you might be familiar with what I'm going to say for Chihaya, but the rest have more symbolism than what the reddit post said. I'm going to credit it just in case I get anything wrong. This is a whole Taichi fest, the song lyrics, the symbolism, everything mwuah chef's kiss plus it made me a Taichihaya stan. Btw this is one of if not my favorite series
https://www.reddit.com/r/chihayafuru/comments/fnpn6q/chihayafuru_3_companion_guide_s3e23/
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Wataya's Wisteria symbolize love, support ( his team ), Our expanding consciousness ( y'know after his grandpa died, his depression, and learning from Chihaya) , Tenderness, Bliss, Wisdom, Immortality, Nobility ( his grandpa being the past meijin ), and Sensitivity
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Chihaya's Cosmos symbolize Purity, Harmony, Humility, Autumn cherry blossom, Chastity, Delicate aspects of love, Mother's love, Femininity, Deep romance, Maiden Japanese heart, Love, and Cleanliness
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Taichi's higanbana/red spider lilies and butterfly are so great together let me tell you
Ok so basically the higanbana symbolizes Never to meet again with lovers ( him and Chihaya?, have not read the manga yet because I'm poor and I also need, high emphasis on *need* to learn Japanese ), Abandonment ( You know the deal with him Chihaya and Arata ), Hell ( I mean his whole not being able to see the cards thing and his pining for Chihaya ), Afterlife, Equinox which in itself symbolizes let go of your past, and Reincarnation ( moving on maybe, manga readers tell me I'm wrong, Taichihaya stans tell me so too, please yell at me in the comment section), and immortality
Then the swallowtail butterfly, Ageha 揚羽 omg you can't tell me I'm wrong about these butterflies. The f-ing autumn butterfly and Chihaya with the other autumn flower/tree I can't take it anymore. They symbolize Metamorphosis, Love ( Taichihaya ), Womanhood, Grace, Free nature, Departed spirits, Hope, Endurance ( his life ), Change ( maybe moving on again, but feel free to attack me ), Life, and It's Raised Wings have too much symbolism for being free ( but of what )
Ok then we have Yuki Suetsugu herself subtly saying that she loves Taichi but wants him to be free of something even if it's Chihaya. With both poems 43 and 46 which is Taichi's
46 means
Crossing the Bay of Yura
the boatman loses the rudder.
The boat is adrift,
not knowing where it goes.
Is the course of love like this?
Suou says this for card 43 S3E19 08:22 - Suou: "Senpai, that poem... is a poem about knowledge that can fill you with either light or darkness."
https://karice.wordpress.com/2016/02/29/p493/
Q: In the manga, in conjunction with the feelings and situations that the characters face, you turn the spotlight on poems that deal with a whole range of emotions, including (romantic) love. May I ask, which of the 100 poems is your favorite?
My favorite in terms of meaning is “When compared to / the feelings in my heart / after we'd met and loved, / I realize that in the past / I had no cares at all” (Poem 43, translation by Moscow). Having been ignorant, once you know of it, you feel like all the cells in your body have been reborn. I think that everyone will undergo that experience several times in their lives, but there are few poems that express this feeling in words.
Then we have the poems relevance in the endings
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I know the significance of the the three main ones
Poem 17 Chihaya's is on top of both 11 Wataya's and 46 ( the topic of the day ) Taichi's
I'll quote the reddit person on the significance of them all being like that
"And finally, we can come back to the three poems that are in the front and center at the start of the ED. Here, we can see #17 is on top of #11 and #46. Topically, both #11 and #46 (our Poem of the Day) cards are about being exiled on boats:
Card #11 - My only thought as I am put out to sea is to ask the fishermen to tell the people in the capital that I make for the islands.
Card #46 - Like a boatsman adrift at the mouth of the Yura, I do not know where this love will take me.
It goes without saying that the card on top, #17, is Chihaya, who is the love interest of both #11 for Arata and #46 for Taichi. #11 is a "Wata" card, which shares Arata Wataya's name. The poem was written by Sangi Ono no Takamura, who was exiled to Oki Island after refusing to participate in an embassy assignment to China. Although the poem speaks of being exiled and away from "her", Takamura was ultimately allowed to return home after being pardoned a year later. On the other hand, in our Poem of the Day above, we can see that #46 is Taichi's card, who was stranded adrift because his "oar-string snapped" -- a far more distressing and harsh reality than Arata's."
Please tell me the significance of all them as I have the ogura hyakunin isshu penguin classics translated.
There are also two maps in the back of the ogura hyakunin isshu to know where all the poems came from
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Guys I'm f-ing singing this for a Talent show too
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l-e-e-woso · 2 years
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131 with niamth charles
Wasn't The Same - Niamh Charles
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Italics = Spanish
Prompt 131 - “I’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you.” 
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You had grown up in Barcelona and the football culture was everywhere, I mean Camp Nou was a 15 minute walk from your home, nothing could get better than that…right?
That’s where you were wrong, it could get better. Unknown to you, your parents had signed you up to play in the Barcelona youth team and somehow you got in. 
It had become very clear very fast to the coaches that you had a lot of talent at the sweet age of 10. Which is when you became the Captain of the youth team until 2014 when you tore your ACL at the age of 15 which is devastating for an adult nevermind a young child. 
After a year of rehab you got back on the field but it wasn’t the same as before, it was like a switch had been flipped. You tried to not throw yourself into tackles, passes wouldn’t connect, giving the ball away at crucial moments in the game, distancing yourself from teammates, not going to team bonding at all and turning up late or not at all to training.
This caused the manager to give you the talk because he gave you a year after your rehab to get your act together but it did not work. He didn’t want to let you go because he knew what type of player you could be but he couldn’t take any more chances on you. So you got transferred to Liverpool in 2016 where you played until 2019 when Barca placed a bid on you which Liverpool could not say no to.
Playing for the Barca first team had always been your dream since you saw Messi when you were a little girl and Alexia when you were in your teens. It had been your ultimate goal to be able to play on the same team as La Reina Alexia Putellas.
Now Alexia was like your older sister and best friend, where you found one of them the other wasn’t far behind. This had caused the fans to start speculating things about the two of you, which you both quickly put to rest saying that the two of you were basically siblings.
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When you transferred to Liverpool at the age of 17 you were very nervous, you hadn’t been to another country ever so this was a very new experience for you but you knew you had to power through it if you ever wanted to get back to play for Barca.
Suddenly everything changed when you met Niamh Charles, even though you knew very little English the two of you instantly hit it off.
After just a few months at the club you and Niamh started dating, the whole team thought the two of you were adorable and constantly teased the both of you. Over the four years you were at Liverpool your and Niamh’s relationship only got stronger.
The two of you were starting to take the next step in your relationship aka moving in together, you got told that you were being transferred back to Barca and you just couldn’t say no which left Niamh heartbroken but ultimately she understood. You told her it was a four year contract and you would come back after the contract ended.
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When you got to Barca you were in awe of all the players, especially Alexia. I mean she was your idol and you were playing in the Barca first team with her. This caused a lot of your new teammates to tease both you and Alexia.
After about two and a half years you were starting to feel very depressed without Niamh beside you so you turned to Alexia for help because you simply did not know what to do.
One day you just turned up to Alexia’s apartment with tears streaming down your face which caused her to look at you in concern when she opened the door. “Y/n? What are you doing here? It’s 1am.” Alexia says while letting you into her apartment and sat down on her sofa while you cuddled into her side.
“I don’t know if I can do this without her…I cannot go another year without Niamh. We were talking on facetime the other night. She was saying that she doesn’t know if our relationship is going to last much longer if we continue to be separated.” You say as tears stream down your face and you grip onto Alexia’s shirt tightly as she rubs your back trying to sooth you.
“Look I’ll talk to Jona, he will most likely want you to stay till the end of this year and then he could look into transferring or loaning you to the WSL. I’m not promising anything but I will try my best to help you.” Alexia pulls you into her tightening her arms around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head. 
“Thank you Ale…” You mutter as you drift off into a deep sleep on Alexia’s shoulder.
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Whatever Alexia did, it worked. You were transferring to Chelsea, you couldn’t thank Alexia enough, you told her that if she ever came to London she could stay with you to which she obviously said yes.
At this precise moment you were walking to your first training session with Chelsea. You already knew literally already knew all of the girls thanks to your daily facetimes with Niamh.
Niamh was currently facing away from you talking to Guro, Erin and Sam when they spotted you but you put your finger to your lips because you wanted to surprise Niamh.
You crept up behind Niamh and wrapped your arms around her waist then whispered in her ear. “I told you I’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you.” This caused Niamh to gasp before turning around and kissing you passionately as a few tears travelled down her face. 
“You asshole! You didn’t tell meeeee!” Niamh pouted at you which made your heart beat like a thousand times faster than it already was. “But…I love you.” Niamh whispers as she pecks your lips as her arm around your neck so you couldn’t move anywhere. 
“I love you with my whole heart Niamh Charles…”You whisper back to her with your thick Spanish accent and a huge grin.
The two of you pull away from your hug to see most of your new Chelsea teammates looking at the both of you with small smiles.
“I’m glad you're finally here! You have no idea how much she talks about you, she never shuts up!” Sam says as she points at Niamh as most of the team laugh at Niamh’s embarrassment which causes you to chuckle.
“Aw you talked about me!” You say in a teasing tone so Niamh playfully pushes you and glares at you. “Shut up…” Niamh blushes but you knew she would get her payback once the two of you got home later that night.
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Taglist:   @sofakingwoso @dutch-gay86 @gt713 @mmmmokdok @xxforeverinadayxx  
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