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#the best lies are the ones you believe in
xshadowdelta · 13 hours
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DESFILABA EN MILÁN
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Yoo Jimin (Karina) x Male Reader (6K Length)
Being the son of the president and owner of one of the most famous multinational companies in the entire world had an infinite number of advantages, but one stood out above the rest. The economic power you wielded was practically inexhaustible, which led you to a life of luxuries and whims, since you won the race against the rest of the sperm.
Living in a mansion, having a driver and bodyguard, attending private schools, and one of the best universities in the world, having a huge guaranteed job, and rubbing shoulders with some of the most important people on the planet. Although the latter was sometimes more of a drawback than an advantage, depending on how tedious the matter at hand was.
And that was what had brought you here, to Milan, Italy, in what was known as Milan Fashion Week, a show whose date was marked on the calendar of everyone who was interested in this whole panorama.
It's not that it was your first time attending an event of this caliber, but it was your first time dealing with something related to fashion, a topic that you hardly knew anything about and that didn't interest you too much, to be honest.
Why were you here then? Simple, because of one of your father's contacts. The world of business was not simply about making money with your company, offering a quality product, managing your employees and going home to sleep every night, no, it went much further.
Everyone should start from the bottom, and once you have managed to reach the top, the difficulty lies in staying up there, which is something that experts always say. And to achieve this objective, alliances are needed, partners if you prefer, in order to build a powerful and, at the same time, faithful network of contacts.
One of the most powerful designers at the show belonged to your father's network of contacts, and therefore also to yours and your company's. Attending this parade was nothing more than a business commitment to strengthen the relationship between you two.
However, the CEO of the company, that is, your father, was closing a deal with a new investor in the USA, and his busy schedule prevented him from traveling to Europe precisely at that time. And there is where you came in, your position as heir, your father's current right-hand man, and future president meant that these tasks fell on you.
You had to admit that you were a little nervous. The crowd of celebrities didn't surprise you, you had been to places like this before, but the fashion world used to bring together a lot of, no offense, snobs.
Since your childhood, you have dealt with thousands of these types of people. You were seasoned in a thousand battles against posh children of rich parents who believe they are the center of the universe, just because the guy they called dad once fucked their mother without wearing a condom in a gas station bathroom, and he ended up having success with some banal bullshit. Luckily, you hadn't turned out that stupid.
You witnessed the parade from the guest area between a young actor who was beginning to emerge in Hollywood and a Formula 1 driver. Experiencing this type of event from the inside perhaps would eliminate your prejudices and change your way of seeing them, nothing could be further from reality.
You still couldn't understand how there were people willing to not only wear such extravagant outfits and clothing, but also pay for them, a negligible sum of money for you, obviously, but it wasn't for 99% of the population.
Hours passed and the moon, along with a blanket of stars, beautifully illuminated the sky of the city, in accordance with the end of the event and the subsequent celebration, one of those famous after-parties that the great figures used to chat, get to know each other, and, of course, do some business.
However, that night, it wasn’t among your tasks to sign any new contracts with anyone there. Luckily for you, your father was lenient in this matter. Attending the event, interacting a little bit with acquaintances, and having the freedom to leave after completing said mission.
“I can’t believe my eyes. Look who is here, it's my good friend's little boy!” You caught a glimpse of a quirky guy, approaching you with his arms open.
There was the culprit of this little trip through the Italian country, your father's old partner, a man with long gray hair, about 60 years old, extremely thin and whose body was surrounded by who knows how many animal skins are in danger of extinction.
“It is a pleasure to see you again, sir.” You lied as he hugged you, patting your back. “I thank you for the invitation on behalf of my father, I am sure he would have loved to be able to attend.”
“Ah, that old father of yours, he continues to work too much, it's time for you to take over.”
“It is difficult, sir, we also want him to rest, but you know how stubborn he is.” At that moment, one of the waiters approached you with a tray full of champagne glasses, which you both took.
You continued talking for a while, mostly about your impressions of the show and the work you were involved in lately, taking advantage of the moment to introduce you to other designers and moguls and even some of the models who had paraded on the scenario.
“The last time I saw you, what were you, 16 years old? But look at you now, you are already a man, and you will carry on your shoulders the weight of a huge brand, it is a weight that is not inconsiderable at all. Have you not thought about having a good woman to help you?”
“I think I'm still young for that, sir, but it's certainly something I haven't considered at the moment.”
“There are countless women here and each one stands out in something: power, beauty, intelligence…I could introduce you to whoever you wanted.”
You were beginning to feel uncomfortable because of the direction the conversation was taking. Although it is true that your father gave you freedom on that topic, from time to time he had dropped a comment about it. Without a girlfriend and a large fortune, you were a good catch, of course, but also the perfect target for fortune hunters. However, that didn't stop you from having fun sometimes.
You scanned the place with your gaze, doing a quick sweep of the people that came into your visual range. You then stopped at a girl who stood out above the rest in your perception.
She had Asian features, a bright dark hair and was wearing a very elegant black dress that was tight to her body. Her face was simply beautiful, somewhat pale, but certainly beautiful, as if she were the human representation of a goddess, and her body had perfect proportions, highlighted perfectly by that small dress. She was chatting cheerfully with one of the models at the show, and her smile left you speechless.
The old man next to you also observed the girl since your gaze had been lost in her, and they didn’t have a plan to return to their initial position. He gave you a playful smile and placed a hand on your shoulder. That touch was enough to make you come back to earth.
“Be careful, kid, you know what they say, the devil wears Prada.”
The designer left you there confused with those words while he went to greet another of his guests, but your eyes were still focused on that young girl. You took a long drink of your champagne, finishing it instantly and leaving the glass on one of the nearby tables to begin walking determinedly in the direction of the girl.
Sadly for you, a third person blocked your way by putting an arm around your shoulders. You tried to free yourself from that grip until you realized who it was, one of your old university classmates, the son of a great businessman in the automotive world.
He spoke to you animatedly for a few minutes in which you didn’t pay him a single second of attention while your eyes tried not to lose sight of the figure of that girl, now hidden behind the body of your friend.
You wanted to interrupt him and say something, but you also didn't want to be disrespectful. That was your mistake, was what you thought when he dragged you from there to introduce you to another group of people while you watched how you were moving away from your goal.
Suddenly you found yourself caught up in a loop that lasted about a couple of hours, about meeting new personalities, stupid conversations about business that you would have participated in another time, but not right now when your head was in somewhere else.
You managed to get out of that group with the typical excuse of having to use the bathroom, and you dove into another amount of people trying to escape. You walked through the huge room where the party was taking place while your eyes moved restlessly from side to side.
After a few long minutes, your search was unsuccessful, and you sighed in defeat, thinking that perhaps that girl had already left the party. Your left hand grabbed a strand of hair from your bangs, twisting it angrily, while your right hand held the elbow of your other hand. If you had been alone, you would have let out a frustration yell.
It was then when you noticed how a hand gently touched your back, making you turn on your feet, coming face to face with the owner of your thoughts. You relaxed the expression on your face that could not hide its surprise at seeing her standing there looking at you with a smile, as if a halo of light illuminated only her, dazzling.
“I've been waiting for you all night.” She said this, making a small pout with her mouth. That completely unnerved you. The unknown girl made the first contact. Was she waiting for you?
"How is…"
“I noticed how you looked at me.” Shit, you had been so freaking obvious. Your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, thereby increasing the volume of her giggle.
“Yoo Jimin, but you can call me Karina.” She offered one of her hands to you, you shook it in greeting, indicating your name back.
Both of you started talking at that moment. You learned that she came from South Korea and that she was dedicated to music and entertainment, specifically being a K-pop idol in a group known as Aespa along with three other girls. You knew little about the subject, but if she was part of it, it was definitely something interesting to investigate in the future.
She told you that she assisted this event as an ambassador for the Prada brand, you smiled then remembering the old man's words, but you still had to decipher the second part.
“And will you stay for a long time in Italy?” You asked.
You were supposed to fly back home tomorrow, but your private plane could wait as long as necessary.
“Oh, well, the truth is that tomorrow I'm going back to Seoul.” It made you sad to know that, and it seems that she noticed it because she got a little closer to you to whisper something in your ear.
“But that doesn't stop us to make this night indelible.” The sensual tone of her voice combined with her perverted smile gave you the clue you needed, there was the devil.
The journey from the place of celebration to the place where you were staying seemed eternal. During the trip, you couldn't help but ogle Karina, you were so obvious that she could only laugh and say “cute”.
You gave her way to your suite, walking around it in amazement, as if she hadn't been in hundreds like that before. On one of the occasions when she turned around and faced you, you grabbed her hips, pulling her towards your body to kiss her passionately, something she responded immediately with the same intensity.
“You don't waste time, I like it.” She said playfully, giving you another kiss.
“It's not like I have much.” You replied by lowering your hands to her butt, massaging it a bit, making her sigh against your lips.
“We have the whole night, tiger, we are going to have a great time.” She commented, letting out a moan when she felt your lips attacking her neck. You gave her buttocks a squeeze, appreciating that you agreed with her statement.
You grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it up pulling it over her head and leaving her in just underwear, and her hand quickly went to the bulge in your crotch caressing it over your pants.
“God, it looks so big, I can't wait to have it in my mouth.” A shiver ran through your body, forcing you to undress as fast as you were allowed, making Karina laugh loudly.
Now with both of you covered only by your underwear, her hands traveled to your chest, caressing it as she reached up to kiss your lips again. In response, your hands distributed slow and gentle caresses along her bare back, taking advantage of the situation to unhook her lace bra. Your torsos were separated enough for the garment to fall to the floor due to gravity.
She took your hand and led you to the bed, where you took her by the waist, causing you both to fall gently lying on the bed, with her under you, still enjoying your kisses.
One of your hands went up her body to her voluptuous breasts, grabbing and kneading one of them at the same time as your tongues surrounded each other inside your mouths.
You moved away from her lips, eager to taste her tits, introducing one into your mouth, savoring it for a long time while your hand caressed her other mound, even going so far as to lightly pinch her nipple.
“Beautiful…” You whispered, offering the same treatment to her other boob.
“Are you saying it to me or my tits?” She asked, pressing your head against her breasts even more.
"Both." She smiled at your answer and shifted on the bed, moving freely, walking on four over the sheets, watching you with a feline gaze that made you rev ​​up the speed.
She completely surrounded your body, being you now the one lying face up on the bed, opening your legs to allowing her to stand in the middle. She lay on top of you, with her face pressed against your crotch, raising her butt giving you an unbeatable view.
She stuck out her tongue to lick the huge bulge that was pushing the fabric of your boxers toward the ceiling, threatening to tear it if it wasn't quickly released. She continued kissing your abdomen, leaving a trail of kisses gradually rising to your chest at the same time that her hands were playing with your member, still inside its lair.
She was playing with you, it was obvious, and you needed her as soon as possible, impatient and anxious, but you refused to show weakness, if Karina wanted to play this game then you would both play.
She went back down to your bulge, there was a part of your gray boxers that had turned into a darker color as some drops of pre-cum had escaped from your tip as a result of Karina's constant teasing. Realizing this she smiled widely with malice knowing that she had won this first round.
She bit with her teeth the elastic of your boxers, pulling them down, lowering them until your hard and throbbing penis was finally free. Karina looked at your naked cock in amazement, bringing her face closer, beginning to spread small kisses along your length.
She rested her elbow on your thigh, measuring your penis with the length of her arm. “Holy fuck, it's so much bigger than I thought. I have never faced one like this” She admitted without stopping kissing it, sticking out her tongue to lick the entire surface, making it wet.
“Come on, I'm sure you could have any boy you wanted…” “You’re not wrong, that's why I have you.” She responded, winking at you.
Meanwhile, your brain was beginning to malfunction due to the pleasure that her lips and tongue were giving you down there. “In that case, be careful and don’t choke yourself.”
Your comment was clearly a joke, but Karina, who was now moving her closed hand around your penis up and down masturbating you, stared at you with a planning in her head.
“There is nothing I want more right now than to choke on this damn cock.” She said in a very hot tone increasing the pace of the handjob making you moan louder.
You swallowed, getting even more excited. You had been with other women before, but Karina gave you an unknown vibe until this moment. She was beautiful, she was sexy, and she was aware of it, and there is no animal more feared by men than a confident and self-assured woman.
A spit came out of the woman's mouth directly onto your cock, which was already completely wet and the movement of the female hand on it was beginning to cause watery sounds.
“I can't wait any longer.” Karina whispered to herself, leaning over your cock, surrounding your tip with her lips and putting as much as she could into her mouth.
She stayed like that for a few seconds adjusting to the size of your penis and proceeded to lower her head a little more until she managed to put the entirety of your dick in her mouth.
You clung tightly to the sheets when shocks of pleasure ran through your body as you noticed how you reached her throat in one go. “God, Karina, you're crazy.”
She would have answered you if her nose wasn't brushing against your lower abdomen at that moment. She was too busy cupping her cheeks to grant you as much pleasure as possible inside her mouth.
After a few seconds of holding her breath she released your member, completely covered in saliva now. Karina coughed a few times but quickly went back to engulfing your cock.
You could see how Karina's head went up and down on your cock in a frantic manner, driving you crazy. Your member did not stop throbbing in the intimacy of her mouth and several strings of saliva were coming out of the girl's mouth meanwhile she was sucking you, starting to make a mess on your lower zone.
You had enough time as spectator and decided to join the action by taking Karina's head in your hands, helping her swallow your cock deep in her throat, causing her to dig her nails into your thighs. You held her hair in one of your fists while she continued to sink again and again on your crotch without any type of modesty.
You removed your hands, and she got separated from you, breathing heavily, but instead of leaning back and walking away, she buried her head between your balls to lick and suck on them, taking them into her mouth.
Karina continued giving love to your balls while now her both hands were masturbating your long member at high speed with enveloping movements, twisting your penis with pleasure.
She switched from your balls to your cock again, sucking you harder than before, swallowing your penis as much as she could and moving her head more desperately, producing erotic sounds from the depths of her throat. 
She let out a large stream of saliva from her mouth against the lower part of your abdomen and your thighs, kneeling on the bed and taking her own tits in her hands, making them swing before your attentive gaze, some of the saliva falling on her breasts.
You sat up a little until you reached her and grabbed her breasts, with a movement of your hips you introduced your penis between them, bouncing your hips and masturbating yourself by using her tits.
This surprised her at first, but she quickly changed her expression to a one much more lustful, staring at you, biting her lower lip, and watching as you enjoyed the massage between her breasts.
Your cock covered on saliva was leaving her tits all sticky and messy, but favoring the sliding of your penis between them.
“Please don't cum yet, I need so much more from you.” Karina moaned, squeezing the sides of her breasts with her knuckles, thus imprisoning your cock, which made you moan.
You lowered your head to kiss her lips, and you placed your hands on her shoulders, starting to move your hips faster. In response, she stuck her tongue out to lick and caress the tip of your cock each time you passed through her breasts.
She held her tits tightly and moved them without mercy or compassion, now they were no longer two huge pieces of meat that shook roughly on your manhood as if they meant nothing more than that, with the only mission of offering you pleasure. “FUCK Karina! Stop or I’m going to explode!” You screamed in ecstasy of lust, doing your best to retain the liquid that was pooling at your tip and threatening to overflow.
She didn't let go of you immediately, no, that would have been too compassionate of her, she slowly reduced the pace making the last caresses feel excitingly deadly. Even so, the damage done to you was remarkable, because the tip of your penis covered in a whitish color was irrefutable proof. With a playful smile Karina bent down to lick your tip and with it those small drops of semen that were peeking out, licking her lips noticeably.
“It tastes so delicious, I can't wait to get the full load.”
You had managed to stabilize your breathing and your emotion just when she threw herself at you again, kissing your lips like a beast and your hands explored each other's body with total freedom, directing one of your hands to her panties to which she began to curve her body rubbing her crotch against your hand.
“I'm so wet.” She made a fake moan, trying to provoke you. “I'm pretty sure you could sink that whole cock into my pussy so easily right now.” Her eyes, her mouth and her entire body were breathing fire, and you weren't afraid of getting burned.
“And what are you supposed to be waiting for?” You played along, murmuring close to her ear as you pulled down her panties and she kicked in the air until she sent them flying away from the bed. “Help yourself.” You gave her another effusive kiss while holding your hard, erect member, offering her a clear sign.
Karina then sat on you, a few inches from your penis, in fact, it was now held upwards, resting on the girl's stomach, and you couldn't have a better view of her at that moment.
She licked the palm of her hand, then running it over your tip, rubbing it insistently in circular motions. One of your eyes closed trying to resist, you were trying to avoid having to beg her at all costs. You were lucky that she was madly horny and couldn't stay playing with you much longer.
She rose just enough to be able to insert the tip of your penis into the entrance to her pussy, slowly descending, allowing you full access to her interior in one go.
A long sigh left her mouth once her butt made contact with your thighs, staying still for a few seconds staring at the ceiling with her eyes closed and a smile on her face. Your hands caressed her thighs, going up to her hips and abdomen, leaving one of your hands lightly pressed against her stomach.
She looked down to make direct eye contact with you while still smiling. Her hands handled yours on her stomach, moving it gently over it.
“I can feel you perfectly…you're so fucking big inside me.” She moaned, beginning to rock back and forth in small movements, without breaking your skin-to-skin contact.
Each time the distance was greater, leaning back and returning forward until it collided with the palm of your hand, a sensation so wonderful that you couldn't describe it in words.
“You're so tight, I could cum at any moment.”
At that moment, Karina's hips began to rise and fall on your cock, riding you and giving you the vision of how your cock entered and left her pussy, each time more abruptly.
“Sorry darling, I would love to have a creampie from you, but sadly today it will be impossible.” She said between moans as she continued bouncing over your dick.
You had to be careful then, you thought internally, letting yourself be carried away more and more by the pleasure, grabbing and squeezing Karina's tits in your hands that were bouncing in the air with ferocious movements.
She rode you harder and faster with each ride. Now placing her feet on the bed and squatting over you, your hands traveled to her ass, pushing yourself even further, making your cock enter even deeper inside her, stirring her insides and making her scream with pleasure.
She continued like this for a few more minutes until suddenly she opened her eyes and mouth wide, suppressing a moan, and made eye contact with you again, completely clouded by pleasure.
“I'm cumming.” She announced riding your cock now in a crazy way and as if those words had turned on a switch in you, you also responded, giving the best you had.
“Fuck yes, just like that make me cum please, please, please…” The way she begged you, her face twisted with pleasure, her body trembling on yours. If there was a paradise after death, it must be something like this.
“Shit shit shit shit!” She screamed, standing on the bed and making your penis come out of her pussy, rubbing her hand frantically against the folds of her pussy, letting out a powerful jet of fluids over the sheets and over part of your crotch and abdomen. You couldn't believe what you had just experienced, Karina had squirted directly on you.
She fell to her knees on the bed, exhausted, trembling, with her legs closed as well as her eyes, breathing heavily, trying to recover from that intense orgasm.
You approached her from behind, surrounding her body in a hug and placing a kiss on her shoulder. She turned to you, smiling with a tired expression.
“That was…”
“The hottest thing I've ever seen in my life.” You interrupted her. “We can rest if you need it.”
Karina glanced at you over her shoulder before leaning over the bed, resting her palms and knees on the sheets, bringing her butt closer to rub against your cock.
“You said it yourself before…we don't have much time.”
You automatically groped her buttocks, and in response, she moved her ass at a faster pace, as if it were a dance. You grabbed your cock and lined it up with her entrance, penetrating her again, making you both moan again.
Karina's twerking didn't stop, not even when your hands gripped her waist, turning your thrusts into much more carnal movements, and causing your own hips to crash hard against her ass every time you buried your cock deep inside her.
The movement of the girl's ass was simply hypnotic, it seemed that her entire body was a sensual spectacle, made by and for the enjoyment of the sexual act.
Her moans of pure pleasure and her desperate pleas asking you for more and more did nothing but heat up the atmosphere even more, and increase your body temperature along with your lust.
You raised one of your hands and let it fall on Karina's buttock in a loud spank to her ass. She let out a small squeal and turned her head to look at you, with lasciviousness in her eyes that you had never seen before.
“Use my body all you want, tonight I'm yours.”
Without a shred of self-control to stop you or make you think at all, you grabbed a handful of her hair in your hand, pulling it back, making her moan. Karina's body sat up until her back was pressed against your torso. With your other arm you totally surrounded her stomach while your hips did not reduce the pace of the thrusts.
One of her arms wrapped around your head as you began to kiss and lick her neck. Your hand let go of her hair and held one of her breasts tightly, pressing her closer to you to prevent her from falling forward but taking advantage of the moment to squeeze it between your fingers.
After a few minutes you released her from your grip, returning to the initial position, not lasting too long there as you immediately pressed one of your hands on her back, forcing her to lie completely face down on the bed.
Your hands tightly gripped the sheet on each side of her head, your thrusts were deeper, burying the entirety of your cock inside Karina, who for some time could not stop moaning uncontrollably.
She tried to silence her moans by biting the sheet, but you instantly leaned gently on her to bring your mouth to her ear and whisper.
“Don't even think about it.” You said, putting a hand on her neck and making her turn her head to remove the sheet from her mouth. “I want to hear you scream.” You whispered in her ear, giving her another spank on her ass.
Karina left that position and turned around on her back, opening her legs for you, while you looked at her with some confusion in your expression. You could see how some tears welled up in her eyes.
“Do you want me to scream?” With the help of her hands, she opened the folds of her pussy, showing you how it was completely wet and dripping. “Then fuck me properly!”
She did not show anger, but her voice and expression were completely authoritative. You smiled when you saw her in that state and bent down to reinsert your member into her pussy.
Despite all your attacks on her tonight, her pussy was still fucking tight, squeezing your hard cock to the point of satiety. That didn't stop you from continuing to pound into her as if it were the last thing you were going to do in this life.
You continued attacking her mercilessly, lowering your head to lick her breasts and then going up to kiss her lips, while your fingers pinched her nipples.
You grabbed the back of her neck as your cock ceaselessly disappeared inside her body, and she rolled her eyes due to the pleasure she was receiving.
“Fuck me please, fuck me please, FUCK ME!” She desperately demanded while you felt the walls of her pussy contract. 
You came out of her, replacing your cock with your fingers, rubbing her folds in the same way she had done some time ago, achieving the same result, another huge jet of fluids straight from her pussy.
You didn't give her time to rest this time, as you grabbed her legs, pulling her to the edge of the bed, holding her body in your arms to lift her up and make her hug your body with you standing.
It seems that despite being tired, she anticipated your idea and surrounded your waist with her legs and your neck with her arms, also lifting her butt, allowing you to insert your penis into her more comfortably.
You grabbed her ass and started rocking her body upwards, making her bounce on your cock incredibly.  Your moans were silenced by your lips, devouring each other without mercy.
After a while you noticed how your legs were wobbly, your hands were clinging tightly to her butt and once again your penis seemed ready to unload everything you had inside.
“You're going to cum for me, right? I want your cum all over me” Karina smiled mockingly on your lips, caressing your hair and your cheeks, you could only nod your head.
“I need to make a mess in that pretty face you have.” She smiled widely.
You separated her from your body, being careful not to fall, and she quickly knelt in front of you, leaving her head at the height of your penis, which you were stroking violently while Karina waited for you on the floor, sticking out her tongue.
You finally released yourself and large streams of semen fell onto Karina's beautiful face, covering it almost entirely in a matter of seconds until you were completely empty.
“Fuck, you came so much.” Karina exclaimed, trying to clean the mess you had caused on her face with her hands, taking the opportunity to lick her fingers in the process.
On the other hand, you were exhausted, panting heavily trying to recover from the tremendous effort you had just made. Even so, you noticed some pressure on your member again, you looked down to discover Karina grabbing it with one hand.
“Let me help you.” She whispered, putting it back into her mouth and making movements with his tongue trying to collect as much of the fluid remains as possible, cleaning it.
“I'll be right back.” She said, standing up and walking past you towards the bathroom, earning a spank on her ass as a tip and turning to give you a satisfied smile before disappearing out the door.
You fell onto the bed, emitting a tired sigh, closing your eyes for a few moments, and seeking to rest your body. After a while you felt the bed move next to you, you opened your eyes and turned your head to the side, seeing how Karina, also now lying next to you, was looking at you penetratingly.
She smiled at you and came close to your body. You put an arm around her shoulder, allowing her to lie on your chest, which she caressed with the palm of her hand. With your free hand, you lifted her chin towards your face to kiss her sweetly.
Karina circled your neck and settled into her position, making the kiss increasingly passionate and needy, to the point where she was practically lying on top of you again. You broke apart, panting and smiling at each other.
“Can't we stop the time?” You asked, making her giggle. She approached your lips again, this time kissing you very slowly.
“Thank you for tonight, I really needed something like that.” She let her head fall between the crook of your head and your shoulder, and you hugged her, pressing her body against yours.
“I guess it all ends here, right?” You asked, caressing her hair, and she turned to you, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.
“I'm sorry…but let's do this.” She said, getting out of bed and walking over to grab something from her bag, a cell phone, and walked back to you. “Give me your number, let's stay in touch, you know, in case we meet again.” She said, winking at you and handing you the device.
"I'd love to." A huge smile formed on your lips as you recorded your contact on Karina's agenda. Once you finished, she snatched the phone from you, throwing it somewhere nearby on the bed, and climbed on top of you, kissing you again desperately.
“There are still a couple of hours until my flight departure, I have to be at my hotel before my staff wakes up, or I will be in trouble.” “It's more than enough for me.” You whispered before returning to devour each other with renewed energy, it seems that your dreamy night still had another chapter to be written.
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alotofpockets · 1 day
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Rough shift | Caitlin Foord x Doctor!Reader
Where Caitlin comforts you after you lose one of your patients
Warnings: surgery, blood, cpr, patient death
Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k
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“Good morning, how is my favourite little Champ doing?” You ask as you walk into Maya’s hospital room, followed by four of your interns. “I’m doing good.” She answered, but the smile didn’t fully reach her eyes, a tell tale that she wasn’t telling the truth.
You had met Maya last year, when you moved back home to work at the hospital you worked at before. It had been hard leaving London, moving away from your girlfriend and your friends, but there was a shortage of pediatric surgeons at your former place of employment, and they reached out to you. You talked about it a lot with your girlfriend, Caitlin, who was very understanding of why you felt like you needed to go.
The two of you have been doing long distance for the duration of it. While it was hard at times, the two of you made it work. You were already excited to see her later today, since she and the rest of the Matilda’s would be arriving for their training camp.
Maya had been one of your first patients when you got back. She had been in for many surgeries before you had met her, and have been there for plenty after. She was a tough kid, that besides all of the medical treatment remained positive. 
“Alright,” You continued, ignoring the fact that she lied about her well-being. She was here for another surgery because her bowels were acting up again. Sadly no one had been able to find a permanent solution for her illness yet, and repeated surgeries were only short term solutions. “Doctor Taylor, can you present, please?” 
He stepped up with Maya’s chart, and started presenting her case. “Thank you Doctor Taylor.” You said after he perfectly shared all the necessary information. To teach the interns, you asked them a couple questions about the surgery, and made sure that they answered in a kid friendly way to make Maya feel at ease.
“Do you have any more questions for us, Maya?” You turned to the young girl on the bed. “Will you be there when I wake up?” Her eyes filled with hope, “Of course, I always am.” And you had. After every surgery you had been with her in the recovery room, always making sure to give your patients that extra bit of comfort that they needed. 
While your interns walk out of the room, you take a moment to speak to Maya’s parents. While they were used to the surgeries by now, every parent was nervous about their child getting operated on. Surgery on the bowels was always risky.
“How long do you think this fix will last?” You felt for Maya and the family and were gutted for them that there still wasn't a permanent fix. “Our best hope is another few months.” They knew that was the answer they were going to get, yet they still hoped that this time would be different. 
When you walked back into the hall you overheard Taylor brag about being the best in their class, and not needing the hours on peds because he won’t be choosing that specialty anyways. You listen for a bit longer and cannot believe the words you hear coming out of his mouth.
“Why do we keep going with these hopeless cases? It’s not like she’s ever going to get better. We’re just delaying the inevitable.” His words hit you like a punch in the gut, but you quickly gather yourself and step forwards. “Doctor Taylor,” The sharpness of your voice quickly grabbed the attention from everyone around you. “With me, now. All of you.”
You didn’t say a word until you had all of them in an empty hospital room. “These aren’t just cases, they are human lives; children’s lives. You are talking about Maya as if she’s some sort of lost cause, but she’s not. We are giving these kids the best care possible. We are keeping them alive, for when there is a permanent cure.”
Taylor opens his mouth to respond, but you aren't done yet. “If you cannot handle treating every patient with respect, you have no business being in this field. You are off this case, go find the Chief and see if she is willing to put you on a different case today.” He walks off with the whisper of a “Sorry.”
“As for the rest of you, I want to make it very clear that this is not how we talk about patients, especially not on the floor where everyone can hear you. If one of your peers does this, I want you to take the responsibility to tell them off. Do you understand?”
They all nod in understanding. “Good, now that we have that out of the way. Anderson, please get all the tests to the lab and page me when you’ve got the results. The rest of you with me to continue our rounds.
It was your job to make these interns good doctors. You hated having to kick them off cases, but if they treated patients like this, there had to be consequences.
The rest of the rounds went smoothly, and just as you got done with the last patient, Anderson paged you that the results were ready.
“How are we looking, Anderson?” He handed you the tablet, “Looks good. All her test results come back to the right levels.” You look over the results yourself to verify and agree with his conclusion. “Alright, prep Maya, and let me know when she's ready to go to the OR.”
“I'm here!” You announce before bending down and putting your hands on your knees, pretending to be out of breath. “Did I make it? Am I still on time?” 
Maya's giggles filled the room, the reason you loved to joke around like this. Kids deserve to feel comfortable and at ease in a place that is filled with unknowns. 
“We can't start without you, silly.” The girl laughs. “Oh, you're right, silly me!” You wipe the non-existent sweat off your forehead. “Alright Champ, are you ready?” She nodded and reached out her hand for you to hold, like you had done for the last couple of surgeries. 
You hold her hand until you arrive in the OR. “Alright Champ, hop on over.” The girl expertly switched onto the surgical bed. “What flavour popsicle will it be this time?” She puts her hand to her chin, “Strawberry!” You had expected no other flavour, as it was her favourite. You grab your phone and start typing. “Alright, I've let the chef know your order. It will be served when you're ready.”
Once Maya was under anaesthesia, you left the room to scrub. You learned that kids often found comfort in seeing someone they knew, you, for as long as possible. When you got back into the OR you were gowned and gloved, before you went to work.
The three interns still on the case were allowed to observe in the OR. You remembered what residency was like for you, and wanted to make sure that they got as many opportunities as possible in an OR, before they got their first operation.
Everything went smoothly, until it didn’t. 
Seemingly out of nowhere her lower abdomen filled with blood. “I need suction.” You instructed and were instantly handed the device. It was pooling in her abdomen fast that you could clear it. You handed the suction device to Doctor Jackson, who was on the other side of the table. “Lap pads, please, and keep them coming.”
Lap pad after lap pad was thrown in the little bin beside you, but the blood didn’t seem to lessen. “Doctor Smith, what’s her pressure?” You needed one of the interns to read the board, since you were both too occupied with trying to stop the bleeding. “BP is 60 over 40 and falling.” 
You cursed under your breath, while desperately trying to find the source of the bleeding. “Clamp.” The tool was in your hand mere seconds later. You tried to clamp off the vessel, but despite your best efforts, the bleeding didn’t slow down.
“She’s crashing.” The anesthesiologist warned. “Not on my watch. Doctor Anderson, take over suction. We’re going to transfuse.” Doctor Jackson handed over the suction, and got ready to set up a transfusion.
“BP is 50 over 30.” Doctor Smith announced. “Hang in there Maya.” You willed her to fight. But the blood was still not slowing down and her pressure was dropping rapidly. 
“We’re losing her.” The anesthesiologist said with worry in his voice. “We are not giving up. Get the crash card ready.” You took a deep breath and got ready to start CPR. 
The room full of doctors watched in silence as you continued compressions on the tiny body that laid on the table. “Come on, Maya.” Your voice barely above a whisper.
You don’t know how long you had been going, but your arms were starting to get tired. Doctor Jackson put his hand on your shoulder, “It’s time.” You shook your head, “No, she’s just a kid.”
His hand stayed on your shoulder, “You did everything you could. It’s time to let her go.” You slowly stopped compressions and looked down at her still body. Tears blurred your vision as you realised she was gone. 
“Time of death,” You started but weren’t allowed to finish the sentence. “11:16” Doctor Smith filled in. You stepped back and ripped your bloodstained gown and gloves off, and threw them onto the ground in frustration. 
You took a moment to gather yourself. You had to inform her family, and you needed to be strong for them. 
The moment you walked into the waiting room, Maya’s parents stood up. “No.” Maya’s mom said as all hope left her face. “No, my baby.” She could tell from your expression that the news wasn’t good, like it had been previous times. “I’m so sorry,” your voice broke. “We did everything we could, but Maya didn’t make it.”
You stood by as they fell into each other’s arms with tears streaming down their faces. They knew every surgery was a risk, but losing their little girl was something no parent was prepared for. “What happened?” Her dad asks.
“She lost too much blood. I- we tried everything to stop it, but we weren’t able to.” He nodded, still in disbelief. “Alright, thank you.” He got out before letting out another sob. Your heart broke even further. “If you want, you can see her for a bit. Would you like me to take you to her?” 
You walked them to the room and let them have a private moment with their daughter. Once you stepped outside, you got a page and headed to reception where you were asked for assistance. 
In a blur you walked down the hall and rode down in the elevator. It wasn’t until you laid your eyes on Caitlin that your vision got a bit more clear. You make your way over to her, and fall into her arms without saying another word. With her comforting arms around you, you couldn’t hold back any longer. The tears started streaming down your face, and Caitlin had to hold you tight, to keep you up right. 
“Oh, my love, what’s wrong?” She shared a worried look with her best friends Mackenzie and Alanna, who you hadn’t even realised were there too. “Can we go somewhere more private?” She asked softly. You nodded and took her hand. That’s when you realised the other girls. “Oh hi, I’m sorry. You guys can come too.” 
You walked the trio into your office and pulled Caitlin down onto the couch, to fall into her hold again. “I lost her, Cait. I lost Maya, she didn’t make it.” The room went silent. Caitlin held you while you sobbed. 
After a while you had no more tears left. “I’m sorry, you guys were here for a fun time, and now you’re stuck with me being emotional.” Alanna is quick to shake her head, “Don’t apologise, we’re all here for you.” Mackenzie agreed, “Yeah, if there is anything we can do for you, please let us know.” 
“You should drink some water, love.” Caitlin suggested and pointed out the water pitcher to Alanna. You did as you were told, and sipped on the water that Alanna handed you. 
“Macca, could you do something for me?” She nodded instantly, “Of course, anything.” You had thought back of the last conversation you had with Maya. “Could you go down to the cafeteria and get some strawberry popsicles?” The request seemed odd to her, but she asked no questions.
Not long after she got back with four strawberry popsicles. “They were her favourite, we were going to have some when we were in the recovery room.” You put your head back on Caitlin’s shoulder. “This one’s for you Maya.”
You sit with the girls for a while longer. Maya had been your only surgery for the day, as you had taken the rest of the day off to be with Caitlin. When you feel strong enough to get up, you ask them to meet you down in the lobby, since you wanted to check on Maya’s parents before you left.
Her parents just walked out of Maya’s room when you walked onto the floor. You weren’t sure what to say except sorry, which you did again. What happened next surprised you. Her mom hugged you. “Thank you for giving us more time with our girl than we ever thought we’d have.” Every surgery had given her a couple of months longer to live, yet you had hoped you’d be able to keep her alive until a permanent solution was found, they made you realise that keeping her alive this long was a miracle already. 
Maya’s dad gave you a firm handshake. “While now is a dark moment for us all, we want you to know that we know you have given your best to our Maya, and for that we will forever be grateful.”
“Maya was an incredible young girl. While the circumstances of us meeting were never possible, I am honoured that I was allowed to know her. If there is ever anything I can do for you and your family, please don’t be afraid to reach out.”
You made your way downstairs again, where Caitlin met you at the bottom of the stairs. Her arm wrapped around your shoulder, as she walked you out of the hospital. “I sent the girls to get us some food, they’ll meet us at home.” 
You didn’t care for the food, but you were glad to be surrounded by your loved ones. All plans you previously had for the day were wiped off without having to communicate your needs. The couch is where you spend the rest of the day. A movie was playing on the tv, but you had fallen asleep in Caitlin’s comforting arms a long time ago.
-----
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rinnstars · 2 days
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all sides of you!
the five love languages rin shows to you
itoshi rin x reader: fluff, hcs/drabble, not proofread, likes n reblogs are appreciated <3
words of affirmation
- at the beginning, i think hes a lot more averse to saying romantic stuff so its more of in a long term/after months of dating
- mainly leaves sticky notes/passes notes during class/at home with what he wants to say ar rhe beginning
- after a while tho, he’ll try to at least praise you/compliment you irl then slowly tell you he loves you (altho rarely at the beginning)
- has a bunch of scribbled notes he never passed to you all filled with confessions/ things he wants to say that he eventually says at the back of his closet in a box (because he thinks its sentimental)
- a lot better at expressing his feelings and can say them without freaking out internally or stuttering before giving up and calling you a mean nickname to neutralise the compliment
- believes in a speak not tell but he knows communication is key so he’ll try his best so bear with him
- slowburn moment for this but its 100% worth it when he comes home from competition and all he can say is repeatedly whisper i love u into your ear as he pulls you closer into his embrace
physical touch
- again, at first hes a bit touch averse / awkward with hugs/kisses but after a while of dating..
- 100% super clingy esp after coming back from competition/bllk : his hands have to be somewhere on your skin, doesnt matter where hes not picky
- has to sleep with you, hugging you like youre his plushie (drools a little too btw)
- links pinky when you guys walk together doeznt matter where “you’ll get lost” excuse except his entire face goes pink at the touch of your hands
- really likes kissing your neck, he thinks its rlly cute when he can hear you & esp if it leaves a mark :p
- has piggy-backed you before even when youre not lying about your shoes hurting or being tired to be carried by him
- enjoys being babied ngl like he loves it sm when you pepper his face with kisses while he just lies there or when you comb his hair with your fingers: he feels like hes in heaven esp after stressful days
quality time
- tries to see you everyday : either through school/going to yours/his house, dates, or even facetime call
- calls you every night when hes overseas btw and during breaks he’ll try to text you back n reply to your messages
- the type to make up excuses just to hang out with you like “oh i need to get new shoes, come with me” even though he has 2038839 different pairs and then have to huy another one because he cant be caught (you can tell)
- wld go on “study” dates where he just stares at you 3/4 of rhe time and actually doesnt finish any of his “assignments”
- has gone on hangouts where both of you just chill in silence n rlly likes it because theres no pressure to do anything and its kind of calming/relaxing esp after having to deal with teammates n whatnot during work
- wld watch you play games/do anything while he sits beside you, just enjoying your company even if he craves a little more but thats alright by him
acts of service
- lowkey such an act of service guy like even pre-relationship even if he makes excuses for him bc hes trying to be #idgaf
- the type to rush to your home with meds/food/everything if you text him youre sick after missing school
- i feel like. he just kind of enjoys the peacefulness of like cleaning and would do it whenever hes stressed (ignoring the loud music he listens to)
- would bring your necessities sometimes, and ends up at some point lending a hairtie to reo (he has a pack of hair ties bought for you at all times)
- anytime he goes out to get food/on the way home, he’ll always get a portion of what youd like just in case, and doeznt mind just eating it as leftover if you dont want it
- has a notepad on his phone on your favourite orders (drinks, meals, desserts etc)
- if youre forgetful, he’ll text you to remind you : whether that be to attend events/eat lunch at proper times/buy something
- would go back to the store if he didn’t buy what you wanted/if you wanted something else without any hesitation as long as it makes you smile even if he doesn’t admit it
- would learn how to take pictures for you on his own accord : you didn’t even realise until one day you pass him your digicam and suddenly he was an expert photographer compared to just months ago when. you started dating where his hand was blocking the camera
giving gifts
- has a matching necklace with you at all times and its his lucky charm and he’ll 100% kiss it before a game / when he wins the game
- shared wishlist on online stores except he stalks through yours and buys them for you randomly to surprise you
- if you have something spoiled/doesnt work as well, doesnt matter if its a home appliance/jeans that don’t fit etc, he’ll buy one for you without any hesitation when he goes out/on his phone
- gets you trinkets/keychains/stuff that reminds him of you including any sanrio/anime/designs you like / even your favourite food ie. chocolates/candies/chips from different countries he goes to for matches
- would notice if you wore his gifts or not and try to buy more things that you like more ie. if you like silver accessories more, he’ll buy more of those
- even during school days, he would 100% blow his money on arcades if you like to play claw machine/those rhythms games and watch you play and sometimes if you don’t get it, he’ll try to get them after his football training for you and pass it to you as nonchalantly as you can the next day
- always buys matching things: that bracelet he bought you? yup he has an exact pair in his drawers, feels its more meaningful and intimate
- if you ever ask for anything, just know he’s willing to give you that and the whole world and even the whole galaxy
-
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clawsdevour · 22 hours
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hq charas proposal + rings hcs
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wc: 0.6k content warning: all fluff!!, reader x all hq charas, not proofread
.⠀✶;..
-the type to believe in 'the bigger the diamond, the bigger the heart' as in their love for you. the really don't care about how it the ring may be perceived by others because they won't know how much they love you enough to find you the biggest diamond in store.
"okay.. um. OH MY GOD! i think i just saw a squirrel," while they point somewhere behind you, struggling to get onto one knee before you whip your head around to see the love of your life with one knee on the floor. "i lied there was no squirrel.. but i never lie about how much i love you, will you marry me?"
charas: hinata shoyo, bokuto koutaro, tanaka ryunosuke, nishinoya yu
-the type to get you a diamond-encrusted ring.. hear me out okay. not the ugly tacky ones but a simple one where it's just tiny diamonds all over where you can wear it with every outfit. even though it's already encrusted with multiple diamonds.. they believe you're more than just that amount on the ring they proposed with.
"This ring may not seem like much when it comes to diamonds. But it somewhat expresses at least a quarter of my love for you. I promise to continue making you the happiest you'll ever be whenever we're together and add to the diamonds on your finger along the way. What do you say? Will you marry me?"
charas: osamu miya, daichi sawamura, oikawa tooru, atsumu miya
-the type to propose to you with an elegant but extravagant ring that has three stone diamonds in the middle. they think that two more on the sides of the middle are better than just one and that it just matches how they saw you more. either way.. the way they perceive you doesn't change but the love and adoration they have for you which increases daily.
"love, ever since i met you that day. all i could see was you looking down at me from above as i slid a ring on your finger. all i could think about was how i wanted to be the best man you could ever have.. please, will you marry me?"
charas: kuroo tetsurou, yaku morisuke, sugawara koshi, iwaizumi hajime
-the type to find a sleek and elegant ring to do more than one with a diamond. something about the easy-going and smooth design drew them in, similar to your promise rings when you first starting dated had nostalgia washing over them while they went shopping for your engagement rings.
"this might not look like much... well, that's because i wanted them to look like the rings we had when we first started dating. the promise rings were already like wedding rings. the spark of joy i felt when you wanted to match something so symbolic in a relationship had ideas of being bonded together for life running courses in my head. so why don't we get them permanently and.. get married?"
charas: kita shinsuke, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, akaashi keiji
-the type to purchase a simple regular diamond ring.. however, a very valuable one that made their bank account gulp. either way, they still swiped that card because they know that the amount they're spending isn't even enough to match the amount of love they have in store for you.. or even your wedding night. everytime you'd question them how much they spent on your ring, they're definitely brushing it off.. never letting you know.....
"wow.. i don't even know what to say but marry me, please. since day one i couldn't take you off my mind. all i could ever think about was having a future with you in it, right next to me. please.. will you do the honors of marrying me?"
charas: sakusa kiyoomi, kenma kozume, suna rintarou, ushijima wakatoshi
masterlist here
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st4rtar0t · 2 days
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How I would connect certain movie dialogues with specific astrological placements
Keep in mind that I am still a beginner, so these may or may not resonate.
I am the rightful owner of the content of this post and any kind of plagiarism will not be tolerated.
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"pyaar dosti hai, agar wo meri sabse acchi dost nhi ban sakti toh mei usse kabhi pyaar hi nhi kar sakta"
Translation
"Love is friendship. If she can't be my best friend, then I can never love her."
Venus in Aquarius or the 11th house.
Moon in Libra or Aquarius.
Why? Because these placements suggest a strong desire for genuine understanding and friendship in their relationships.
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"Tusi ja rahe ho, tusi na jao"
Translation
"you are leaving, please don't go"
Venus in Pisces
Moon in cancer or strong 4th house influence
The moon in cancer can give attachment to the person you love and cause difficulties in letting them go. Venus in Pisces makes a person extremely devotional towards the person they love, hence making them extremely attached.
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"MERE HISAAB SE TOH DHARM EK HI KAAM KARTA HAI, YA TOH WOH INSAAN KO BEBAS BANATA HAI, YA AATANKWAADI."
Translation
"In my opinion, religion only does one thing: it either makes a person helpless or a ter*orist."
Ketu in 9th house
Saturn in 9th house
sun in Aquarius
These placements indicate that the native will question religious beliefs and be critical of the customs or traditions.
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"Jab zindagi ek bar mili hai toh do bar kyun soche."
Translation
"when you only live once, why think twice?"
Mars in Aries or Sagittarius
jupiter in the 1st house
Sun in Leo or Sagittarius
These placements can make someone really courageous, bold, spontaneous and optimistic. They will not second guess themselves or doubt their decisions because they fully believe in themselves.
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"Zindagi jeene ke do hi tarike hote hai - Ek jo ho raha hai hone do, bardaasht karte jao, ya phir zimmedari uthao usse badalne ki."
Translation
"There are only two ways to live life: either let things happen and keep enduring, or take responsibility to change them."
Saturn in 1st or 10th house
sun in Capricorn
and mars in Aries or Scorpio
These placements make a person action oriented, creates a strong sense of responsibility, authority and taking charge. These placements make a person disciplined in achieving their goals.
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"Success ke piche mat bhago. Kabil bano kabil. Kamyabi toh sali jhak maar ke peeche ayegi."
Translation
"Don’t chase success. Become capable, truly capable. Success will come running after you."
Saturn in 10th house
jupiter in Capricorn
and mars in Virgo
All these placements focus on self improvement through hard work and sufficient efforts. Mars in Virgo makes perfectionists through constantly improving their abilities.
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"Haar tab hoti hai, jab haar man li jaye"
Translation
"Defeat only occurs when one chooses to accept it."
Saturn in 1st house or strong Saturn influence
Mars in Capricorn
Sun in leo
Pluto in the 1st house
People with these placements are resilient, determined and do not accept defeat easily. They are focused on winning and transforming.
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Let me know if you liked it or not
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ckret2 · 1 hour
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What's your stance on Ford as a person? Honestly, I believe that for thr majority of canon he is a bad person. But I believe he grew. Still not great though XD
(Love him anyways obvs)
I disagree entirely! I think he's equally as good a person as any of the other main cast.*
*Except Mabel, who, as we all know, is always right about everything.**
(**This is a lighthearted joke. For the love of god, I don't want Mabel discourse in my inbox.)
His biggest sins in the show:
After telling his brother that he was thinking about changing heir shared life plans, and then discovering that his brother had gone to the high school that night for no good reason and gone to the science fair for no good reason and messed around near Ford's science project for no good reason and broke it and didn't tell Ford about it... Ford believed Stan did it intentionally and held a grudge for it. You know what, it WOULD be pretty damn hard to believe it was an accident.
Hilariously ill-equipped to cope with Fiddleford's mental health. A guy who responds to "I have anxiety" with "have you tried yoga, it helps me" isn't a bad person, he's clueless. "Character cheerfully enacts a bad idea while a loved one in the background goes NO PLEASE DON'T DO THAT" describes half the episodes of Gravity Falls.
Was successfully manipulated by a professional manipulator into believing his best friend wished him ill. Man, what a terrible person Ford is for being manipulated by a manipulator and saying cruel things to somebody he'd been genuinely convinced was trying to harm him.
??? Didn't say thanks to a guy he was still mad at after the guy fixed a problem he himself had caused. This is a solitary example of stubborn bad etiquette, jesus christ. There's half a dozen different reasons why it makes perfect sense Ford wasn't in the right mindset to feel grateful, this is not something worth indicting his entire character over.
He had high ambitions, which everyone seems to lambast him for, but high ambitions that wouldn't have required doing anybody harm! (Until the professional manipulator started manipulating him into harming the people around him, but we are going to demonstrate some reading comprehension and not blame Ford's underlying morality as a person for things he never would've done if not for Bill's bullying, con artistry, and outright lies.) Like, what is it that he wanted to do with his life? Use his talents to get rich and famous? Shit, that's exactly what Stan wanted to do with his life. It's what Dipper fantasizes about doing with his life. Even Mabel, who thinks about her long-term future the least, dreams big with her art & performances and is already making big money off cheap-ass commissions. What terrible people they all are, for—let me check my notes here—uhhh... unrealistically fantasizing about achieving success in life by doing the things they're good at.
When their dad accuses Stan of lying as a child, Ford puts his entire summer on the line to defend Stan even though he knows Stan is a habitual liar and has no reason to believe Stan is telling the truth this time.
When his new college roommate he barely even knows gets laughed at for proposing an outlandish scientific theory, his first emotion is outrage at this injustice and he drops everything to convince his already-despondent roommate that he was right and help him prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
When he moves to a new town, he tries again and again to befriend his new neighbors, and fails not because he's rude or a jerk, but because he's awkward as hell, tells terrible jokes, and sucks at identifying phoenixes.
When Fiddleford gets hurt around him, he cares about it, feels guilty about putting him in that position, doesn't want it to happen again, and tries his best to help even though he's bad at helping.
When he gets kidnapped by a weird holiday folklore creature, he concludes without even thinking about it that he's now in charge of protecting and rescuing the kidnapped kids. Yeah, then he immediately starts hollering at the folklore creature for trying to impose his religious beliefs on Ford and the kids—but like, Ford was right tho, he just had bad timing.
When he discovers that the Northwest family committed atrocities against their poorer neighbors a century ago, his first instinct is to march up to their house, find the first Northwest he can locate, and give them a piece of his mind for it. Like, this won't even FIX anything. He's just THAT OUTRAGED over the injustice.
When he sees what he thinks is a fortune telling fraud conning the people, he attempts to debunk her because he's mad to see someone cheating other people with lies—and when he can't debunk her, he just leaves her alone rather than harass her about it. Typically, if assholes think somebody's doing something wrong but don't have any proof of it and fail to get proof when they look, they decide they're right anyway and keep giving that person shit. Ford doesn't give her shit. That's the opposite of an asshole move.
When he discovers his Portal To Knowledge (And Fame & Fortune) is actually a Portal To Doom (But Still Possibly Fame & Fortune, Maybe Even Godly Power), he isn't tempted for a second to keep working on it anyway. There is no moment where Bill manages to tempt him. No matter what Bill offers, no matter how long Bill offers, never, at ANY point, does Ford have a SECOND of "but what if I did make a deal with the devil?" the way so many heroes in similar situations often do.
You ever notice that? So often moral moments in the show are presented as choices the characters make. Will or won't Dipper give Bill a "puppet" in exchange for knowledge. Will or won't Stan fight a pterodactyl to protect Mabel's pig. Will or won't Mabel hand Bipper the journal. Ford is never given a "will or won't he" moment over Bill's threats, offers of friendship, or offers of infinite power—he steamrolls straight past them without a second of consideration—because, to him, the selfish, cowardly, easy choice ISN'T EVEN AN OPTION. He doesn't even SEE it as making a choice because the possibility of doing the wrong thing is invisible. A character who wavers first before turning Bill down would look more noble for "overcoming" temptation—it's harder to notice just how much stronger Ford's moral compass must be to not even feel temptation in the first place.
Greed and pride never tempt him to join Bill's side. Exhaustion, despair, and fear never tempt him to give up. He bears up under weeks, possibly months of extreme sleep deprivation, physical torture, psychological torture, emotional torture, threats of death, threats of brainwashing, threats to his family. He doesn't hold up so that he can pat himself on the back for being a hero—if that was all it was he would've gone "screw it, this isn't worth it and nobody would know I'm the one who gave up" a week in—he does it because he simply knows it must be done and because he's so isolated (half because of Bill's influence!) that he believes he's the one who must do it, all alone.
Thinking he has to do it by himself isn't egotism or pride; it's helplessness. He thinks no one else stands a chance. He thinks he's alone.
And, when he discovers his Portal To Knowledge is a Portal To Doom, he immediately feels guilty. No trying to deny the situation to protect his ego. No shuffling the blame off to someone else. No "maybe the apocalypse could have a silver lining!" No locking the door and trying to ignore the problem. He blames himself for being fooled—he IMMEDIATELY takes full responsibility for his actions—and he CONTINUES to take responsibility FOR THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS.
He takes more responsibility than is even warranted—he treats himself like he's an idiot for believing in an APPARENT GOD who's been practicing manipulating humans for thousands of years and who had never given Ford reason to believe the portal was anything but what Bill said it was. He beats himself up to no end every single time his past with Bill comes up. He even keeps beating himself up thirty years later when he's shoving warning notes to future readers in Bill's evil unkillable book!
When he falls into the multiverse, he dedicates his entire life NOT to finding a way to rescue himself, but to finding a way to permanently stop the CHAOS GOD who's still at the threshold of destroying Ford's world and countless others. He makes himself a hated criminal in the process, just to stop Bill. He's ready to spend the rest of his life trying to protect a world he doesn't think he'll ever see again. He does it because, as he sees it, somebody has to stand in between the children and the obnoxious folklore cryptid menacing them, and he's the only adult in this damn cave with the skills and knowledge for the job.
When he gets home, he doesn't tell his family about Bill and his quest because he's afraid that doing so will get them involved and endanger them too—and because he's too deeply ashamed of himself and his mistakes to stand the thought of his family knowing about the horrible things he's done (AGAIN, WHILE BEING MANIPULATED BY THE GOD OF MANIPULATION).
He loves his great-niece and great-nephew the second he lays eyes on them; he nevertheless tries to steer away from them to keep them safe from Bill; and yet he caves to the very first temptation to emotionally bond with his great-nephew he gets, because in spite of his noble "keep them safe" intentions, he wants so so badly to be close to his family.
As pissed as he still is at Stan and even though neither of them can look at each other without hissing like cats, he still makes an attempt to start bridging their divide by inviting him to play DD&MD.
When the apocalypse happens, he immediately puts his life on the line to try to kill Bill.
And when he's captured, isn't fazed for a second by Bill's offers or threats... until his family is threatened. The exact thing he'd been trying to avoid & prevent from the very start.
And when he's reunited with Fiddleford, his immediate reaction is to point out that Fiddleford's well within his rights to hate him—which isn't a new revelation, it's not like Ford had to do any soul-searching to reach this conclusion, he'd concluded that 30 years ago the instant he realized Bill had played him and that he'd been lied to about Fiddleford.
And then he tries to kill Bill again.
And then he's ready to sacrifice his own life to kill Bill—and the only reason he doesn't is because he has a metal plate preventing him from making the sacrifice... but, Stan doesn't have a plate. If Ford hadn't had the metal plate, he would have gladly done the exact same thing Stan did—and he would have thought it was right for him and only him to make that sacrifice, because it's VERY clear he feels (and has felt from the start) that this is all his fault and he's obligated to fix it.
Over and over and over, these are Ford's two defining character traits: getting so pissed off at injustice that his common sense shuts off and he goes into terminator mode until he's righted this wrong as best he can, even when he can't actually do anything about it; and feeling like he's Atlas, weighed down with the full responsibility of fixing everything he's done wrong and made to believe that, for everyone else's sake, he has to do it all alone. Even when doing so puts himself in harm's way, even when he has to put his entire life on hold for it, even if it might cost him his life. Scrape off his awkward social skills, his loneliness, his nerdiness, his endless curiosity, his zealous love of the strange, his starry ambitions, his yearning for recognition and success—scrape his personality down to the bone and that's what you're left with. A man who believes in defending the exploited so strongly that it makes him a little stupid.
I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that you probably don't think Stan's fundamentally a bad person, and that you probably think that isn't even worth questioning. Stan's made a whole career out of swindling people, conning them out of as much money as he possibly can, stealing, lying, committing a long list of goofily-named crimes, and attempting douchy pick-up artistry on women; and to cap it all off, he held the safety of the entire universe hostage to demand a goddamn "thank you." Don't send me any "But he had reasons—" "But it was only to—" I don't need it, I don't want the essay, I'm not arguing that Stan's a bad guy, it's fine.
But. You can look at Stan's moments of cruelty and unkindness, his uncharitable thoughts, his character flaws, and think, "that doesn't define him. He's more than his cruelest moments and worst mistakes. He's imperfect, but he cares so much and his heart's in the right place, and beneath all the flaws his core is good."
And if you can't do the same for Ford, it's not because he's a worse person. It's because we got two seasons with Stan and five and a half episodes with Ford—and while we saw Stan yearning to fish with the kids or encouraging Mabel to whoop Pacifica's butt at minigolf or crying over a black and white period drama or punching zombies to save his family, we only saw Ford at the worst moments in his life and under the stress of a prolonged apocalyptic crisis—and, it so happens, all the moments he was pissed at the guy we spent two seasons learning to love.
Ford's got moments of cruelty and unkindness, uncharitable thoughts, and character flaws. But, at his core, he's a good person, and he always has been, and he still is.
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dronebiscuitbat · 2 days
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Give me a Reason: Chapter 19 - "Best Freind"
N: U sure ur okay?
Uzi sighed as she crashed into her mattress, body feeling sore and head full of cotton balls. Tessa had just pulled out of the driveway and N was already texting her.
She wasn't sure when they'd actually become friends, maybe somewhere between ghost hunting and getting kicked in the gut she'd somehow made that connection. But she was absolutely not used to someone being this worried.
He'd incessantly asked what had happened for her to get so injured. And she'd incessantly deflected, either saying that it was nothing serious- which was bullshit, it hurt like hell. Or, at the cost of her ego- she lied and said it was an accident.
She just wasn't sure how he'd react to the truth, he'd probably be even more worried then, knowing that someone did this to her on purpose.
Or… he'd laugh at her. Because she was weak, because she'd put herself in a vulnerable position and then couldn't take a little pain an-
N: You can talk to me.
N: No pressure.
N: Just worried about you :(
The new messages stopped that train of thought. No. He wouldn't laugh. Even her chronic cynicism couldn't convince her of that.
Finally, instead of staring at his messages, she responded.
Uzi: Promise you won't say anything? Or laugh.
N: Promise
She sighed, here goes nothing…
Uzi: I got kicked in the stomach, u know how I seemed upset that I knew someone in my math class? It was them.
The reply actually took a minute to come back.
And that was because N had all of air knocked out of him at that reply. She'd been hit? Purposefully? And hard enough to give her a serious injury? Why? She was so nice! And cool!
N: Who?
Uzi: Lizzy, she's a teachers aid now, but she was in my class last year.
Uzi: It's not the first time she's thrown a punch, just caught me off gaurd this time.
Once again, N was floored, a teachers aid!?
N: I'd never laugh at you. But you should report her, she shouldn't be working with students if she thinks that's okay.
Uzi huffed through her nose, a half-laugh that was drenched in a depressing kind of acceptance.
Uzi: It's not like they'd believe me. I'm not exactly a model student.
She sat her phone down and shucked off her jacket and beanie, hissing as her side throbbed dully. This had been such a day…
Her hand instinctually reached for her stash drawer before she even realized, and in another, she was looking at it's false bottom.
As tempting as it was- and it was very tempting. Drug mixing wasn't smart even if one of them was just an over-the-counter pain reliever, and adding a bad trip on an already shitty day didn't sound fun.
So instead she wrapped herself in the biggest, comfiest shirt she could find and grabbed her laptop, maybe she could distract herself with YouTube.
N: What do you mean by that?
Oh right, she'd never mentioned the fact she'd been held back to him, whoops.
Uzi: I was held back a year. I'm 19.
N: Oh wow! You're older then me!
N: Still it can't have been that bad. Failing a class isn't a reason to not belive you.
Uzi smirked, fingers clicking on the keys of her laptop as she tried to find something to watch- settling on an analysis video of one of the shows she was watching.
Uzi: I was high in class and a teacher called the campus police.
It took nearly twenty minutes for him to respond to that.
N:Sorry, got home and had to get up to my room.
N:You were WHAT?!
N: That's a crime!
Uzi: And so is trespassing on JCJenson private property to ghost hunt.
N blushed, now laying on his bed in a grey pajama shirt and pants with dogs printed on them, he held his phone close to his face as he grumbled, she had him there, but that hadn't really felt like a crime at the time…
N: I think you're a bad influence.
N: Also you're deflecting, drugs are bad! And unhealthy!
Uzi rolled her eyes at that, he wasn't the first person to tell her that. But you know what was worse? Dealing with herself unmedicated, without her stash, her head just got fuzzier and fuzzier, and before she knew it… she'd be having a full mental meltdown at the slightest provocation. Which she hated, she never felt like herself during those…
Uzi: Probably. But you see why they won't believe me over miss perfect.
N: Yeah okay, now I'm gonna be worried tho. I don't want you being hurt.
She smiled at that, this boy was so endlessly empathetic, and thankfully, her unloading some not-so-great facts about herself didn't seem to put him off either.
Uzi: Ew, don't worry over me. That's gay.
And yet she couldn't help but make a joke over it.
N: ???
N: how?
N: how does my worry make me gay?
Uzi: It's not manly.
Uzi: Empathy is a girly emotion.
She was snickering to herself, she didn't actually believe that of course, but she could almost see his reaction to it. That stupid, confused and amused smile that he wore when she made a particularly dumb joke.
N: Guess I'm gay then.
N: Cause I'm always going to worry. You're my freind.
N:Best Freind?
Her heart fluttered full of butterflies at that. Is that what he wanted? From her? She was so convinced he'd find someone else to hang out with but here he was, asking to continue this…
Whatever this was.
Uzi: Always knew I'd end up with a gay best freind.
Uzi: u can't borrow my makeup.
N: Awww, but it would look so good on me!
Uzi thought about that for a moment, imagining N with dark eyeshadow, lipstick, and black nails, and she about choked, she wasn't sure if it was funny or weirdly attractive.
Uzi: Dude that mental image.
Uzi: It's so cursed, I about choked.
N: Blursed
N: It's Blessed and Cursed
The conversation continued, the fuzz in her head slowly dissipating even without the assistance of her stash, and it continued late into the night… up until she heard Khan pull onto the driveway at 2am.
Uzi: Oh god, it's 2am. We need to sleep.
N: I didn't realize! We're gonna be zombies…
Uzi: More of a zombie u mean?
N: Yeh. U still in pain? Are u going to sleep ohay?
N: Okay* oof, sleepy fingers.
Even while about to pass out. He was still worried…
Uzi: I'm okay, pain isn't bad. U need sleep N
N: Ok, text you tmmrow, Uzi. Goodnight.
Uzi: Night N.
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tmpestuous · 1 day
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Moth to a Flame - 7
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summary: Bucky Barnes was the love of your life, and you were his. There was no denying it. But after two years of dating, you found yourselves on different paths and decided it was best to go your separate ways. The only problem was how drawn you’d always be to him even after moving on.
pairing: College!Bucky x Reader
warnings: blackmail, angst, toxic relationships, arguments, cheating/infidelity (all over the place..)
word count: 6.5k
a/n: this is a long one… a few time jumps but the next 3 chapters will be a lot closer in timeline. enjoy!
Sleep struggled to reach Bucky in the past week; he found himself tossing, turning, and ultimately resolving to staring up at the ceiling until his brain decided to turn off and let his eyes shut. His anxiety had been through the roof, and though it was not a new feeling for him, it felt a lot worse with you at the forefront of his worries.
Natasha and Bucky were the only ones who decided it was worthwhile trying to make amends with you. Well, and Pietro. But their plan to talk to him fell short every time Wanda placed a barrier between her brother and her two friends with the most intense glares.
“He’s not up for talking.”
“Wanda, please,” Natasha pleaded. “You can’t seriously believe that Y/n would be capable of doing something this outrageous.”
“I don’t,” Wanda retorted. “But what else am I supposed to believe? Regardless of if she wanted to keep it a secret or not, she decided to do the former. She didn’t tell anyone. We could have prevented this.”
“But shouldn’t that tell you she’s in this situation a lot deeper than she wants to be?” Bucky questioned.
“It tells me that she still felt the need to protect herself over all of us.”
Bucky sighed to himself at the memory, rubbing his face as he prepared to face the day with yet another 3 hours maximum of rest. Not even a cold shower could wake him up enough, the resolve of shutting his eyes while leaning his head against the shower wall tiles cut short by Steve’s knocking on the door.
Alerting his best friend that he’d be out of the bathroom soon, he shut the water off and quickly made his way back to his room after wrapping his towel around his waist. Thankfully, Bucky knew Natasha would be brewing coffee in the kitchen as the redhead succumbed to a similar path as him. 
After getting dressed, he walked out, seeing the steam of the coffee come from his mug on the kitchen counter, Natasha already sipping on hers.
“Have you checked your email yet?” She asked as Bucky blew into the mug.
“No, why?” 
“Bucky, the Stark Internship acceptances went out yesterday and you’ve been holding all of us in suspense.”
“Shit,” Bucky said after a sip before setting his mug back down and pulling out his phone, quickly opening his email.
Natasha watched as Bucky scanned his phone, his face looking more disappointed than relieved.
“Well?”
“I- um,” Bucky stammered, shaking his head before putting his phone away. “I didn’t get it.”
“Bucky–”
“It’s okay, Nat,” he cut her off. “I did get that job with Y/n. I guess I’ll just take that one.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Steve interjected as he walked into the kitchen, grabbing his own coffee mug that Natasha had left him. “Wanda isn’t gonna be happy.”
“I need a job, Steve. That’s it.”
As much as Bucky wanted to get close to you again and keep an eye on you, he had worked so hard for the Stark Internship. Part of him hated that he had to go work for you instead, especially since it also added to your uncomfortable situation with your boyfriend. It was a lose-lose for the both of you, but he needed an internship. He didn’t want to beg his dad to bend some rules and give him a spot in the family business. This was his only option.
But Steve was right. Wanda wasn’t happy. The group had met up for lunch later that week when she found out and Bucky heard every inch of it. About the lies, the betrayal, about how she can’t imagine even looking you in the face again. Luckily for Bucky, he had to head out for his first day anyway, and ended up leaving during her lecture. 
Bucky could tell from Pietro’s face that he didn’t agree with his sister, but Bucky also hadn’t had the chance to have a conversation with him about you. It was no use asking him there. Natasha had texted him all about her calling Wanda out for being insensitive about the situation, though Bucky didn’t have the energy to reply before walking in to see you.
It had been a week and a half since the incident, and his nerves were eating him alive. Half of him felt the way Wanda did — confused, hurt. He agreed that he would have believed you’d set your pride aside for your friends. But the other half of him knew you wouldn’t just betray everyone like that. After your conversation outside of the hospital—the tremor in your voice, the fear in your eyes behind all of the tears.
“Because it would only make things worse for him. For me. For you.” 
God, he wished you had just told him everything. You immediately shut him down upon his question on what Atlas was holding over you. He knew you.
After calming his racing heart, Bucky got out of his parked car and walked towards the entrance of the building he was told to meet you at. The receptionist was nice enough to let him in even though he was half an hour early, but only because you were already in your office. 
He took a deep breath after making it to your closed door. His closed fist ghosted the air, waiting for the knuckles to press on the frosted window of the door, but his gaze was set on the shadow moving behind it that hadn’t even noticed his presence. Bucky knocked ever-so-lightly, not wanting to test how impossibly expensive the glass was, and the shadow behind the door froze before making its way towards the door. 
Once the door was opened, Bucky was greeted with your gaze, a slightly confused look on your face before you looked over at the clock on the wall.
“You know you’re early, right?” You asked as you turned your attention back to him, but Bucky couldn’t stop looking at you like he couldn’t believe you existed. He hadn’t forgotten anything about you but he had never spent so much time without seeing you, whether in front of his face or across the room. “Bucky…?”
“Sorry,” he said as he pulled himself out of his thoughts, though still staring at you. “Yeah, I know I’m early but I’ve had a really rough morning—well, week— and just kind of really need to dive into some work to distract myself so I thought maybe I’d make a good impression of being overly punctual so you’d let me in.”
Bucky wasn’t usually a rambler. He was a one-liner kind of person, never having too much to say out of fear of saying more than he needed to. You could tell he was anxious, so you nodded and stepped aside to let him in the lab.
It was bigger than what Bucky imagined—open space save for a few tables and some computers atop them. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows and your desk planted in front of one, papers scattered all over.
“I hadn’t really gotten started on anything yet,” you broke the silence. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to take the offer at all if I’m being honest. I told them to keep you as a last resort since I knew how much you wanted the Stark Internship and that you’d probably take that.”
“I didn’t get it,” Bucky said as he faced you, his back previously to you while he took everything in. Your face was now riddled with more confusion than when you saw him outside your door. 
“What do you mean you didn’t get it? You were a lock for it, Tony even talked you up to his dad.” Bucky shrugged, looking away from your gaze on him. He honestly didn’t want to talk about the dark cloud that had been looming over him since he read the rejection email. Part of him wanted to reach out to Tony and ask what went wrong, but he had felt so defeated lately with everything going on that he didn’t even bother. “Are you okay?”
Pulled from his thoughts for the second time today, he looked at you again and nodded. “I will be.”
You nodded once in return. “Guess we should get started then.”
Bucky was grateful you weren’t being distant with him, but rather the contrary. After you explained all the research directions to him, detailing every instruction on how to collect, analyze, and sort all of the data coming in, everything seemed normal. Your banter was normal, you offered small talk here and there. It was like Bucky finally had his best friend back. 
He hadn’t realized how long it’s been since the two of you had a normal conversation that wasn’t teetering on the feeling of walking on eggshells. He knew he shouldn’t get comfortable given the current circumstances, and was further reminded of that when you spoke up again after a decent pause in your conversation. 
“How is everyone?” 
Bucky looked up from the binder that had his attention to see you hadn’t looked up from your computer screen, probably out of anxiety.
“They’re alright, just… navigating things, I guess,” Bucky answered sincerely. “We all haven’t really talked much about anything, honestly.”
You nodded without saying anything else.
The last thing Bucky wanted to do was to tell you how Wanda’s feeling about him working with you, or about how Natasha and Steve have been more distant with each other than usual given their disagreement on the situation, or how Sam barely likes to be in the room after he hears your name. Everyone in the group was on edge, and unfortunately, it had to do with you. But he wasn’t going to let you beat yourself up over it. It was the last thing you needed. 
You had removed yourself from the group without a word. You packed all of your things when Wanda and Natasha weren’t in the suite, taking everything to what Bucky now knows was your new apartment. It wasn’t cheap by any means, but your parents did agree it was better than paying thousands of dollars for a shared dorm. 
Bucky could tell you were at least content that you weren’t forced to stay with Atlas, whether at his stupid frat house or his own dorm. You never enjoyed it even when you were on good terms with him, so Bucky could only imagine the disdain you held for it now. 
The rest of the day went smoothly, and so did all of the following days Bucky worked with you. He felt back in his element, even though he only got to spend time with you for a few hours in a day. But they were the best hours of each of his days; he cherished them a lot more than he anticipated. Bucky was also grateful he could at least give Natasha updates on how you were doing, given how open you’d been about everything and your halted communication with everyone else. 
Not only were you doing great work with your research, but you were slowly getting your relationship with Bucky back. Having those moments to catch up kept you both so sane.
For instance, on the week of Halloween, you both were talking about costumes and plans, as this was your final Halloween in college.
“I didn’t change my plan for my costume, though,” you said as you highlighted a completed task in your planner. “With everything going on, I didn’t have the time to think of anything else but it’s not like Catwoman was a bad idea to begin with.”
“I guess we’ll still be matching then,” Bucky responded with a chuckle as you looked at him with a surprised face.
“Batman and Catwoman come out on top,” you grinned. “Are you guys even going out this year?”
“Same old party at the sorority house on Kirkland,” Bucky leaned back in his chair. “You going?”
You nodded. “Guess I’ll see you there, Batman.”
And you did. Bucky honestly had to control himself as the sight of you in the hottest Catwoman costume he’d ever seen in his life. Atlas was there, much to Bucky’s dismay, but it didn’t stop him from grinning at you from across the room when the guy wasn’t looking and Sharon wasn’t paying attention. It was a grin you also had no problem in returning before looking away with a face that let Bucky know you were definitely blushing underneath that mask. 
He liked that he still had that effect on you.
More weeks went by and before everyone could process it, it was the week before Thanksgiving. Bucky knew the holidays always made you excited, but your joy was nowhere to be found this go around.
Bucky obviously knew why, with the Friendsgiving tradition you all had coming up, without your attendance. It was bugging him all day to the point that he didn’t even want to go, but he’d never hear the end of it if he bailed. 
3 days before the dinner, Bucky promised Natasha he’d pick up all of the cooking tools and ingredients to take to his place where it’d be happening. He knew she’d only asked him given she and Steve weren’t currently on the best of terms. Bucky usually hated being put in the middle of things, but he let it be for the sake of everything else currently happening in his life.
Bucky and Natasha had also built a much stronger bond in a few weeks than they’d ever had in years of knowing each other, so he tried to see it more as a favor to her instead of her avoidance of Steve.
Natasha wasn’t in her suite, but she let Bucky know the door was open so he wouldn’t have to knock. As soon as he entered, he saw Pietro sitting at the dining table, typing away on his laptop before looking up at him.
“Just the person I wanted to see.”
Bucky chuckled, “Are we gonna talk or is your sister going to banish me again?”
“She’s not here, but she’ll be back soon. What are you doing here anyway?” Pietro lowered his computer screen.
“Picking up some things for Nat then headed to the lab,” Bucky sat across from Pietro. “But I’m in no rush, so tell me everything.”
For the sake of time before Wanda made her way back to her dorm, Pietro kept everything concise. He didn’t hold back, though, telling Bucky about the tape, about him being dragged from the internship fair and his dorm the following night, about you keeping everything to yourself out of fear of putting everyone’s lives in danger. He also mentioned Atlas threatening you with hurting Bucky if you got close to him again, making Bucky realize what you were talking about outside of the hospital.
“There has to be something we can do,” Bucky asserted, his chest aching as the realization sunk about how much you’d been suffering.
“Not yet,” Pietro lifted his computer screen again. “But I have already thought out a plan. It is not going to be easy for you or me at all, but it is the only way.”
Understanding what Pietro meant, Bucky nodded. “I’ll do anything for her, Piet.”
“I know. She won’t like it, but we have no other options. But you absolutely cannot tell her, Barnes.”
Bucky sighed and nodded. Ever since he started working for you, with you, you two were closer than ever. You cracked jokes together, you ate lunch together. You confided in each other about your days, your current stressors. You were best friends again. As much as Bucky wanted to know you weren’t alone, he knew Pietro was right.
Almost as if on cue, Wanda walked through the front door, Natasha right behind her.
“I smell trouble in here,” Wanda spoke up as she set grocery bags down on the kitchen counter. 
“No trouble,” Bucky shook his head and stood up from his seat.. “Was just keeping Pietro company ‘til you came back. I’m gonna take all the things for tomorrow and head out now.”
Natasha eyed Bucky before he whispered to her, ‘I’ll text you’. She nodded in response before helping him grab everything and walking him out to where he was parked outside. Bucky assured her once more that everything would make sense very soon before getting in his car. 
The entire drive to his apartment, the time he spent dropping off the ingredients, then the drive to the research building — he couldn’t take his mind off of you. Bucky, of course, was somewhat relieved that he wasn’t projecting his thoughts about Atlas onto you; but he felt sick to his stomach knowing that you had been suffering for these past few weeks, that you trusted Pietro and not him to know your secret, that you would throw your freedom away to protect him.
Yes, you were protecting yourself as well. You were keeping your job, the work you’d spent so much time and effort on for so long. You weren’t uprooting your research. But there were ways for you to get out of this. He could have helped you, he could have saved you.
Bucky wanted nothing more than to look you in the face and tell you he knew everything. That he was going to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe. But Pietro made it very clear he couldn’t tell you, and he couldn’t go back on his word. Not when it would ruin everything.
So as he sat in his car, mulling over how he was going to play pretend in front of you, Bucky devised a plan of his own. He just needed to get through the next few days.
Once he was calm, Bucky walked into the building, smiling at the receptionist who had told him you had just come in a few minutes ago. With a small ‘thank-you’, he walked to the elevator and headed upstairs.
Once he reached the sixth floor to make his way to the office, Bucky saw the last person he wanted or expected to see.
“Bucky Barnes,” Atlas said with a smug grin. “Been a bit since I’ve seen you, how’s your friend holding up?”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “I have work to get to. See ya around.”
As he walked past the blonde, Bucky shook his head. He could do so much to him. He could beat the smug look off his face and the ego out of his personality. He could ruin his life. But he wouldn’t.
“You know, the Stark Internship is amazing.”
Stopping in his tracks, Bucky looked at Atlas from his peripheral vision. “What?”
“The Stark Internship that you applied for. I’ve only been there about three weeks after someone dropped out, but it is the best professional experience I’ve had,” Atlas chuckled. “I’m honestly surprised she didn’t tell you. Quite a shame you’re missing out, but I can’t say I’d be thrilled working with you.”
And then he was gone. While Bucky was left shell-shocked in the hallway, left to face you. 
Walking into the office, you looked up from your desk, your eyes softening from a more irritated look once you’d realized it was Bucky in the room.
“Bucky, hey,” you said with a half-smile. “You came just in time, I have something to tell you.”
“I saw Atlas outside.”
Making your way in front of your desk which you were standing behind, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I figured, considering he just left. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about actually.”
“So you did know,” Bucky said softly, the familiar ache in his chest from earlier making a reappearance.
“Knew what?”
“That your boyfriend got the Stark Internship I wanted.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was going to tell you—”
“Just because I saw him outside and you knew he’d rub it in my face? Would you have told me if I didn’t see him or would you have kept that from me too?”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you stared at Bucky in disbelief before letting a scoff out, tears welling up in your eyes immediately.
“Wow.”
“Y/n–”
“I don’t know why I would ever believe that we moved past everything,” you shook your head, going back to your desk. “I found out that Atlas has been working at Stark today. That’s what I was going to tell you as soon as I saw you walk in the door. I didn’t know he was working there or I would’ve told you from the first second he stepped through Stark’s doors, Bucky. And I can’t believe you would stand there and think that I’d do otherwise when we’ve been so… normal.”
Bucky exhaled a deep breath before rubbing a hand over his face, his gaze then fixated on his shoes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he looked up at you as you were trying not to cry, making his way over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders as you avoided his stare. “I’ve had… a day, filled with information that has been tearing my brain apart but that is no excuse for accusing you of lying to me. I’m sorry, dragă.”
Sniffling, you looked up at him with a soft smile. “It’s okay. Maybe we should get to work, okay?”
Bucky was surprised you even forgave him, watching as you walked back to your desk and sifted through some papers. 
But he didn’t press on the issue. Not even the next day. Or two days after. 
It was the morning of the friendsgiving dinner that Bucky had been more than dreading the whole week. Sharon was talking his ear off about outfit choices as he got ready for the day, having to work then rush back to his place and help prepare for the god forsaken dinner. 
But all he could think about was you and the distance you held between you and him for the past four days.
He couldn’t blame you at all. He overstepped, he lashed out and he couldn’t be upset if you didn’t trust him anymore. After weeks of blind confidence in him, he brought you back to square one. Alone. 
“Bucky, are you even listening to me?” Sharon said with blatant irritation, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts. 
“Sorry,” he said before pulling a sweater on. “I have to head out.”
“Seriously?”
“I have work and then the dinner with everyone and I’m just— I’m sorry, Sharon. I’m stressed. You can stay here and get ready, wear the blue dress.”
Before she could respond, Bucky was rushing out of the door, ignoring everyone swamping his apartment after finishing their responsibilities for the day. 
Anxiety had a way of rearing its head for Bucky at the most inconvenient moments, but this, by far, was one of the worst cases. He was counting his lucky graces that he made it to work in one piece, though his anxiety would only get worse the second he had to work alongside you while you were upset with him.
He caught a bit of a break when the building’s receptionist told him you were running late, though it was so uncharacteristic of you to be late to anything. 
Maybe traffic was shitty. Your route from your new place was different from his. 
Even then, you were always early. Usually an hour or two before your clock-in time. Taking a leap, Bucky texted you.
Bucky: Everything okay? Monica told me you were running a bit late.
No response. Bucky rubbed his eyes, knowing he really didn’t need something to add to his list of anxiety triggers at the moment. Deciding it was best to throw himself into work as a distraction, Bucky kept himself busy for an hour.
He’d worked with you long enough that he knew how you ordered all of your research virtually. Color-coding, organizing all of your results by order of the universities they were coming from, ranking the results in order of responses by question.
This research was huge, a study done through an intense survey of students from some of the biggest and most prestigious universities in the country. Being backed by a company as big as Oscorp among others had colleges falling at your fingertips for a chance to be included. Beyond just wanting to work with you, he was so immersed in your work. The least he could do was advance it a bit more for you as you were running late. 
So he did. And an hour and 20 minutes after Bucky walked into the office, you were outside of the door cursing to yourself as you rummaged through your bag in search of your key to the office. Bucky walked over and opened it for you, leaving you staring at him with your hand frozen in your bag and tears in your eyes.
“The door was open,” Bucky said softly, taking in your frazzled state. “Are you okay?”
Wiping your eyes and smearing your mascara as you rushed inside the office, “I had this stupid lunch with Atlas and his parents and it was awful and all I wanted was to leave but I sat there like the good girlfriend I’m supposed to be and listened to him goad on and on about everything at Stark Industries and then diminish everything I’m researching like he’s—”
“Hey,” Bucky shut the door and pulled you into a hug. He noticed you stopped yourself, about to spill everything to him but for the sake of keeping his and Pietro’s plans, he just held you. “You’re okay, I promise,” Bucky looked down at you and cupped your face in his hands, wiping away some of your tears with his thumbs as you sniffled. “I know how much you hate being late so I started on some work. I got through analyzing about 80 results when you came in, color-coded and organized them how you like, all by each school.”
New tears made their way onto your face, Bucky immediately worried he hurt you though you assured him otherwise. After a few beats, Bucky was taken by surprise as you quickly leaned up and kissed him, letting both of your mouths move against each other with unspoken adoration and love before you pulled away breathless.
“I’m— I’m sorry,” you said, stepping back out of Bucky’s grasp, his lips a brighter red now and his cheeks flushed as he looked at you. “I know I hate my ‘boyfriend’,” using your fingers to make air quotes, “but you still have a girlfriend. I’m sorry, I let my emotions kind of take over.”
“I kissed you back, you know,” he said without hesitation.
“Bucky, we can’t—”
“Why not?” He asked as he stepped towards you. “I kissed you back. I kissed you back when you kissed me at that party. I kissed you back now.”
“You still have a girlfriend, Bucky. I just got overwhelmed because nobody’s… cared for me, like that in a while. It’s been so long and I kind of forgot how it felt. But I overstepped and I shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t love her,” Bucky admitted. “I have never loved her, I won’t ever love her. Hell, I didn’t even ask her to be my girlfriend.” 
He stepped near you again, back in your personal bubble as he inched his face closer to yours. He caressed your face with one of his hands once more, before leaning down and kissing you again like it replenished the air in his lungs.
Leaning you against the wall, you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck, kissing him back with every ounce of energy you could give as he used his free hand to grip your thigh and wrap your leg around his waist. After a few minutes, you both pulled away, catching your breaths as you stared at each other with longing eyes.
“I don’t think you know how long I’ve been waiting to do that again,” Bucky said as you giggled a bit. “I’d continue but it’s probably not best to christen our place of employment that way.”
“Shut up,” you said playfully, pushing him back softly, keeping your hands on his chest. “I still kind of feel bad.”
“Don’t,” Bucky shook his head, placing his hands on your waist. 
“Are you sure?” You asked, not fully convinced. “I know how long it took for you to move on and I’d hate to ruin that.”
“I promise. I’ve been racking my brain on how to end things with her anyway,” Bucky reassured as he rubbed your waist softly. You nodded without a word, running a hand through his hair, your attention suddenly elsewhere. “Where’d you go, prinţesă?”
“The dinner’s today,” you said softly, still not looking at Bucky. He could hear the melancholy in your tone. “Are you going?”
“Nat might kill me if I don’t,” Bucky joked, which made you smile a bit. “Why do you ask?”
“I wish I could be there.”
Bucky pulled you back against him, kissing your forehead. “Me too.” 
After you and Bucky decided it was best to get back to work, the rest of the day moved swiftly; you and Bucky were back to your normal dynamic once again, though clearly slightly different. 
Bucky was anticipating going through a myriad of situations before he could truly savor your lips on his again. When you kissed him all those weeks ago at that party, it was more solemn—an apology for what was about to come. Though your kiss came out of whatever impulse you had, Bucky had been feeling all those urges too. 
He wasn’t the cheater type at all and, honestly, the thought of it did make him feel like shit. But he didn’t want you to blame yourself for his actions. He wasn’t lying when he said he was trying to break up with her, but something about ending things right before the holidays also made him feel shitty.
As the day moved on, Bucky’s anxiety creeped up on him again. The looming dread of walking into his apartment and having to sit at this dinner pretending like nothing was wrong wasn’t going away anytime soon. Bucky could tell you sensed he was off with the way you were staring at him as he put his jacket on.
“Everything okay?” 
He looked at you and shrugged. “In theory.”
“The dinner will be fine, Buck,” you offered him a smile, somehow knowing how to read his mind as always. 
He felt bad leaving you here at work to attend the dinner you were always excited about. He insisted on grabbing something together, so you at least had enjoyed food with him. However, you warned him of the wrath of the Russian redhead if he showed up to dinner on a full stomach. He couldn’t help but chuckle because he knew you were right. 
You gave him a tight, warm hug before he left. He knew you needed it, even more than he did. He wanted to tell you then and there that he was going to help you, that he’d get you out of the situation you were trapped in. He debated so hard internally, but, once again, he told himself he had to keep his word. 
Once he left the office and made it back to his apartment, Bucky took another moment of silence in his car after parking in his assigned space. A calm before the storm, he convinced himself. After taking a few deep breaths, he got out of the car, locked it, and walked to the entrance. He did his best to quiet his mind as the elevator made it to his floor, as he twisted his keys in the locks, and entered his buzzing apartment.
“It’s about time!” Sam exclaimed from the couch, seated with Steve, Thor, and Pietro in the living room. “We were about to play poker without you.”
“You can go on ahead, I gotta shower,” Bucky said as he shrugged his jacket off. “But when I get back, you’re all getting your asses kicked.”
Smirking at his friends’ complaints as he walked down the hallway, Bucky made his way into his room, seeing Sharon still getting ready.
“Hi,” she said monotonously, sighing when Bucky responded with a ‘hey’ in the same tone. “How was work?”
“Fine,” Bucky responded shortly again, putting his shoes in the closet and grabbing his towel for a shower. As he headed out the door, Sharon stopped him with a question.
“Are you upset with me or something?” Her tone was clearly one of frustration, which Bucky wasn’t in the mood for. “You’ve been avoiding me all week.”
“I’ve had quite a shitty week,” Bucky admitted, knowing it wasn’t too far from the truth. “I just need this dinner to be over with and some time to decompress before we have a talk.”
“A talk? About what?”
“Us,” was all Bucky said before heading to the bathroom. 
He made sure to take an extra long shower, needing a moment to relax before the thing he was dreading all day. He noted Sharon wasn’t in his room when he came out of the bathroom, and he was kind of grateful for it. 
Once he was dressed, Bucky checked his phone as it buzzed, seeing a text from you.
Y/n: hope the dinner goes okay. Still wishing I was there ):
Bucky: Me too. I promise everything will be okay soon.
Y/n: I hope so. 
Y/n: can’t quite stop thinking about earlier.
Bucky knew what you meant, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it either. It was the only thing on his mind, the taste of having you back was consuming his entire being. 
He had to tell Pietro the plan needed to start. Soon.
Bucky: Me neither. You still at the office?
Y/n: might sleep here if I’m being honest
Bucky: I’ll stop by later tonight.
Y/n: no christening the office
Bucky chuckled at his phone.
Bucky: No promises. See you later.
After putting his phone to charge, Bucky stepped out to the living room. The boys were all outside on the balcony, while Wanda and Nat were in the kitchen. He didn’t see Sharon at first but then she stepped out of the half-bathroom and turned her gaze away from Bucky immediately.
“Bucky, would you mind setting the table? Ask Pietro to help you.” Wanda asked from the opening in the wall to see through to the kitchen.
“Yeah, no problem,” Bucky said as he turned towards the dining area after grabbing the plates, seeing Pietro walk in, assuring Bucky that he had already heard his sister. “I guess twin telepathy is a thing.”
Pietro chuckled. “How is she?”
Bucky waited for Pietro to place the table mat in front of a seat before placing a plate. “She’s alright, but I can tell she’s hurting.”
“I was thinking that we should get a start on the plan soon,” Pietro spoke quietly, not wanting anyone else to overhear. “I would hate for this to drag into the new year.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Bucky grabbed the utensils once all of the plates were set, passing half to Pietro. “This weekend?”
“That would be optimal. There is a party at their house on Saturday.”
“How do I get their attention in just two days?”
“You will,” Pietro reassured. “Trust me. After tonight.”
Deciding not to pry further, Bucky thanked his instincts as Natasha and Wanda walked into the dining room with the food. Bucky and Pietro helped free their hands and placed everything on the table, the girls calling out to everyone else.
Bucky could sense Sharon’s tension as she sat next to him, but he opted to do his best to ignore her. He needed to break things off sooner than later.
Once everyone dived into their food and made conversation, Bucky didn’t say much. He hadn’t even realized how empty his stomach was until he started devouring his plate.
“Slow down, Barnes,” Sam joked from across the table. “I know you hate talking but you still gotta chew before you swallow.”
Bucky shot him a glare before resuming his task at hand.
“I think he isn’t talking for other reasons,” Sharon spoke up, surprising everyone at the table, especially Bucky who now stared at her incredulously. “What? You clearly invited me here as a placemat for your missing traitor.”
“Excuse me?” Natasha said before Bucky could retaliate.
“I don’t know why I’m here when Bucky so obviously wishes Y/n was here instead. That’s why you’re cheating on me with her, right? That’s what your silly little job is? Become her lapdog again?”
Bucky chuckled. “You should stop talking.”
“Why?”
“You should stop talking,” Pietro interjected, Wanda silently urging him not to get involved. “Since we are bringing up accusations, why don’t we speak about you cheating on Bucky?”
If Bucky could get whiplash from how fast he turned his head towards Pietro, he would have. “What are you talking about?”
“I have been holding my tongue for a while,” Pietro started. “But I do not think I can sit by and watch you stay with this woman as she is involved with the man ruining the life of the woman you love.”
Bucky was very much confused 30 seconds ago, but he was even more confused now.
“Pietro, I don’t know what you saw—”
“But you do know what I saw, Sharon,” Pietro interrupted. “You and Atlas outside of the fair, kissing. Plotting against Bucky and Y/n. He and his friends took me forcefully while you warmed up to Bucky like nothing happened. Like you didn’t know why I was injured that night. Like Y/n was the traitor when you have been the parasite this entire time.”
“Pietro, why would you not tell us this?” Wanda asked, in as much disbelief as everyone else at the table. 
Pietro stared at Bucky, though Bucky was racking his brain trying to process what the fuck he just heard.
“Y/n is being blackmailed by her boyfriend. I couldn’t admit anything without jeopardizing her safety. But I’m sure it will be jeopardized now,” Pietro threw a smug look Sharon’s way before calmly turning back to his food.
“Bucky—”
“Get out.” 
Sharon pleaded with him, but Bucky cut her off once more.
“Get the fuck out before I throw you out of here.”
With tears in her eyes, Sharon rushed out of the apartment, Bucky standing up to lock the door behind her before walking back into the dining room.
It was so silent, Bucky once again became self aware of his racing thoughts, needing to break the ice—a rarity for him.
“Is there anything someone wants to say?”
“Yeah,” Steve said, rubbing Nat’s shoulder while she was trying to process everything and staring at his best friend. “How do we kill this asshole?”
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corviiids · 1 day
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oh would love to see ur breakdown of whether or not miles could do it tho. if not him then do u think polly could do it
verdict: miles edgeworth could beat kira but not without help and significant damage to his psyche. as a player character he could do it with support. as an npc he would support phoenix to figure it out but would argue the entire time
could miles edgeworth intuit the mechanics of the death note
not at first instance. probably not at all. i think if miles edgeworth received the right combination of clues and/or (but preferably and) was forced to eliminate literally every other option, he would accept the mechanics of the death note as factual. however i don't think 'magic notebook that kills people' would ever enter miles edgeworth's mental realm of things that are possible without someone/something very firmly pointing him towards that fact. he would not arrive at this conclusion on his own. also, phoenix meekly bringing up the possibility in court would give him a migraine.
could miles edgeworth identify light yagami
yes. i think edgeworth would ultimately be able to kira even without intuiting the death note's mechanics. i think figuring out how the book works is the very last stage in this inquisition. but i think he would be able to ID light as a person of interest even without solid information on means and i also think he would really enjoy his verbal battle with light yagami and by enjoy i mean miles edgeworth enjoys talking to people that make him want to tear his hair out. can we all take a second to imagine mind chess/logic chess light yagami edition? can we please think about that
could miles edgeworth survive
yes - see my post about shi long lang:
yes i think he survives owing to the rules of the ace attorney universe which he brought with him, namely that a culprit in ace attorney will politely sit and cooperate while you argue with them and will admit when you've defeated them in argument, which is the least realistic thing about ace attorney. so i think light wouldn't make a move to try and kill lang until his Culprit Breakdown, at which point lang could simply kick him in the shins and pluck the notebook out of his hands because light is three toothpicks taped together.
(miles wouldnt kick light in the shins but if lang, franziska, kay, or gumshoe is there they would do it for him while miles does that arms crossed eyes closed pose about it.)
also noteworthy is that miles would give a speech about how he would gladly risk his own life to kira if it means uncovering the truth
(i put apollo under the cut because this post is too long)
verdict: apollo justice could beat light yagami but i think he would need trucy for help and motivation
could apollo intuit the mechanics of the death note
not organically but i think in true trained by phoenix wright tradition he'd kind of arrive there in a moment of panic by pure accident. trucy would say something nuts and apollo would be like
APOLLO The only thing the witness has on him is a notebook!
TRUCY
Hey, anything can be a murder weapon if you try your best and believe in yourself!
APOLLO What's he going to do with a notebook, write me to death?
APOLLO .........
TRUCY Uh, Polly? You've got a weird face on.
APOLLO I just had a really bad idea.
could apollo justice identify light yagami
i think apollo would be taken in by light for the most part like, kind of kristoph style... listen the bracelet is a weird mechanic. people literally lie all day long forever and apollo only catches specific, gameplay convenient things, just like phoenix with the magatama. (we're back at 'why dont you just question your client with your truth telling powers from the beginning' and the answer is because it is a video game with a narrative that needs gameplay and stakes.) so i think apollo catches light in a couple of white lies and then dismisses it for the most part as like, light's just one of those weird guys with a fakey persona but who is mostly harmless, and light generally tries not to lie directly in favour of speaking vaguely around the truth, so it doesn't really ping apollo as particularly strange until near the end of the case where apollo is like. ive been getting weird vibes from this guy from the start what if that like. means something
anyway i think he'd figure out that it's light in like a tense moment where he feels like trucy or himself or someone else is in danger
could apollo justice survive
yes for the same reasons as above but i think it's a close thing. like i think light gets "Apollo Justic" written in the book before trucy throws a knife at him and nails the death note to the wall and then apollo is like (Y-y-yikes!!! That was close!)
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deancasbigbang · 2 days
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Title: work song
Author: dothraki_shieldmaiden
Artist: tallula03
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel
Length: 70000
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Tags: Murder Husbands, Revenge, Canon-Typical Violence, Break Up and Make Up, Mutual Pining, Getting Back Together, Criminal!Castiel, Angst with a Happy Ending
Posting Date: October 31, 2024
Summary: Two years ago, Dean Winchester's life came crashing to a halt when his boyfriend, Castiel Novak, died in a tragic accident. After painstakingly putting his life back together, Dean goes on a vacation with his best friend, where he sees a face he never thought he would see again. Now reunited, Castiel tells Dean the truth about his past and the reason for his disappearance. However, all is not well--Dean cannot move past Cas' betrayal and lies, and the ghosts from Cas' past refuse to remain there. With danger looming, Dean and Cas start on a mission of revenge and justice, but they're badly outnumbered. With the hurt of the past colliding with the fragile promise of the future, Dean and Castiel need to learn how to create a new path--or else risk being lost forever.
Excerpt: Dean settles on the edge of the couch, ready to jump away at a moment’s notice. The surrealness of the situation — him, talking to Castiel two years after he thought Cas died, furious instead of joyful, wanting nothing more than to flee from Cas as fast as he can — would flatten him if he thought about it for longer than two seconds.  So he just doesn’t think about it. He sits and he waits.  Cas takes a long time to get to the point, twisting his fingers around each other, so abruptly that Dean winces at the sharp pop of his knuckles. Cas stares at a stain on the carpet like the secrets to the universe are written in its oblong edges.  By the time Cas finally speaks, Dean is ready to jump out of his skin with anticipation. He’s ready for Cas to yell at him, to call him pathetic. He just wants Cas to say something, but he’s completely unprepared for what Cas does eventually say.  “You are…” Cas’ throat bobs as he says, with an inflection that sounds like something soft and small dying, “were… one of the most important things in my life. The most important thing in my life.”  Cas sounds so sincere. Dean could almost believe him.  “I never would have left if I had the choice. Those two years I spent with you… They were the happiest of my life.”  Cas takes a deep breath, fortifying himself. Dean does the same, rebuilding his wall that had started to crack at the first sign of Cas’ vulnerability. He’s imagining everything from Cas actually admitting that he’s just shit at breaking up with someone and couldn’t figure out a different way to end the relationship, to Cas saying that he had to flee due to problems with the IRS. “When I said you were in danger… Dean, I wasn’t lying. When I first met you, I had been on the run for over a year. I knew that staying with you was only tempting fate — bringing danger right to your doorstep — but I couldn’t help myself. You were so…” Castiel swallows. His hands are clasped so tightly together that his knuckles are bleeding white. “And for two years, I thought it might be all right. I thought… I thought maybe I was allowed to have you. But then I saw someone from my past, and I knew that if they had managed to find me, they could threaten you. They could hurt you.”  “Hurt me? Cas, I don’t—”  He doesn’t know what to expect, but he still couldn’t have prepared himself for what Cas says next.  “Dean, I was a member of the Archangel crime organization until it was taken over by Lucifer Morningstar. I was on the run because he put a bounty on my head, and I know you might not believe this, but the reason I left was to protect you.”  Fucking what?
DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule
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going off of the sheer amount of fanfiction i've read saying the contrary, I think this may be considered an unpopular opinion, but I firmly believe that player is like scary good at lying. I don't think he particularly likes lying, but he can, you know? like on the rare occasion that he has to, carmen will listen to him lie straight through his teeth like it's nothing and get really really concerned. because like. hello? where did you learn to do that? sir?
I don't know, watching s2e7 is so funny to me because this is the first time he's interacted with someone outside the team for a caper, and he immediately gets into the deception, fake accent and all. no hesitation. carmen switches the plan on him, and he's the one who has to relay that to gray while still maintaining the lie. and he does it! full confidence! and when graham pushes back, player pulls out the "haha yeah the crowds going crazy :)" and gets him to go along.
and hey! this plan was fucking ludicrous and stupid. I have such a love-hate relationship with this episode. it is everything to me. it's fucking idiotic. it's beautiful. it's a god damn joke. when the plan DOES eventually fall apart, that is not on player because buddy did his best with the silliest plan known to mankind. okay? he was ON it in this episode, I love it.
it's also the screening he did during the second act of the pilot. "strange people kept answering your phone!" and you kept calling?? did you have these silly goofy little lies already made? or were you just coming up with them on the fly?
or what about in season 4 when zack and ivy come to his school posing as exterminators? they can't agree on a lie and arrive at making up a new kind of insect, and player is so quick to back it up. the embodiment of "yes, and?" kid can roll with the punches, it's great.
like, there's a reason he and carmen are best friends. she was raised to be a thief and was pretty much born for their line of work, but player is kind of perfectly made for it as well. that's a guy who can continue a bit. his confidence with this stuff is both impressive and reckless, and it has GOT to keep carmen up at night. I love him.
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hoseokslefteyebrow · 3 days
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The Anomaly || JJK
Chapter 16: Shibuya Incident: Gate Closed
summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.
wordcount : 1.8k
Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, mostly platonic, you're really just part of the story
Masterlist | Next
You've heard enough to know that Tsukumo Yuki dislikes the Jujutsu world. Meaning that it's already big news that she's shown up in the first place, but it also means she most probably had a plan. You don't blame her. Jujutsu society is messed up.
" The next stage of humanity lies in breaking away from cursed energy." 
" No. It lies in optimizing cursed energy." 
Yuki and whoever is hiding away in Geto's body appear to not agree on the matter.
She turns, shrugging at Yuuji, who raises a hand.
" Uh. I don't understand either of those." 
" I thought you gave up on that plan 12 years ago after Zen'In Toji died." 
" That's what I told Geto, yes." 
You blink, your eyes turning to your best friend in question. She believed people with promising talent like him and Toji were the solution for a curse free world? Interesting.
For now, you'll have to stay focused in finding the technique that will defrost the stranger's technique. 
Once again, you're lucky. Just like before with octopus man, you can for some reason use the stranger's technique to your advantage.
Admittedly, you've messed around with snow before, but you've never used it to defrost anything, to undo or create ice. But then again, there's a first time for everything, right? 
Both Geto and Yuki explain their ideals. Yuki doesn't see the use of optimizing cursed energy, considering Japan would be a monopoly in that. Other countries wouldn't just stand by and watch. It would create a war. Whoever is hiding in Geto doesn't seem to care. He just wants cursed energy to take over in it's best form. Doesn't matter if it's through people or cursed objects. According to him, his ideal is a spec in the darkness. According to him, he should've let 'chaos consume around him beyond his control'. He had been limited, but now he had extracted the technique to do so.
At once, Yuki turns to Yuuji.
" There was a curse named Mahito, right?! The one whose technique could manipulate souls!" 
" That guy just absorbed him." 
Yuuji sounds awfully nonchalant while Yuki is obviously distressed. Her eyes widen at his words.
" Seriously?!" 
Geto leans down, pressing his palm to the ground. At once, a symbol shows on the ground, also appearing in the sky. It looks eerie.
" Tengen's barrier? No, this is..." 
" You have my thanks Yuuji. Curses cease to improve once they've been absorbed by curse manipulation. Your fight with Mahito is what really matured him." 
" What did you do?" 
Yuki is rightfully not in the mood for Geto's round of approval.
" I remotely activated Idle Transfiguration on two types on non-sorcerers that I had marked ahead of time."
As Geto continues to explain, you finally get the gist of unfreezing the icy technique, summoning the cursed energy in the form of water all around you. As well as that, their cursed energy weakens. Probably because of the wound they healed when Choso's Piercing Blood cut through their palm like that.
The stranger's eyes widen as you manage to free yourself, freeing Sukuna soon after and the rest as well.
" What's the matter Uraume?" 
Geto looks over at Uraume, who is looking utterly scandalized as they watch you.
" L/N Y/N. " 
You raise a brow. L/N? Now who is that?
" Sorry, I'm not game for talking right now." 
With that, you sweep Uraume off their feet with a strong gust of water, using their own cursed energy against them. Sukuna laughs, the sound loud, causing several of your allies to turn to you in question.
" Hah! Finally." 
You raise a brow at your best friend, he sends you a side eye back.
" What? You took long. I knew you could do it." 
However, the fun ends after that. Due to Uraume's weakened form, their cursed energy disappears into thin air. 
Unbothered, Geto continues speaking, explaining how he's been working on this for over thousands of years. He calls today 'the world of the future'. You don't need to wonder on it for long.
Within a moment, he has reached through Geto's curses, and summoned a lot of them at once.
You gather the rain which had fallen around you, crating the water circle in a steady flow around you.
Sukuna takes a step back, shifting closer to you.
His body language a clear message. 'Stay close to me.' 
Admittedly, you weren't planning to leave.
Everyone is surrounded by curses at once. You glance around you in concern, noticing just in time to see Geto holding out the prison realm mockingly to Yuuji, adding that he's expecting great things from the boy.
Unbeknownst to you just yet, a notice from Jujutsu Headquarters is released.
1. Geto Suguru is confirmed to be alive, and has been sentenced to death once again.
2. The suspension of Itadori Yuuji 's death sentence is revoked and the execution is to be carried out immediately.
3. Yaga Masamichi shall receive the death penalty for inciting Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru and causing the Shibuya incident.
4. Gojo Satoru has been deemed an accomplice in the Shibuya incident and is thus permanently exiled from the Jujutsu world. Furthermore, removing his seal will be considered a criminal act.
5. Special Grade sorcerer Okkotsu Yuta is appointed Itadori Yuuji's executioner.
[ This is where the series ends. Continuing from this point means manga spoilers!]                              Manga spoilers for this chapter: chapter(s) 138
Some time passed. Not much. Maybe five minutes. The cursed spirits were a distraction.
" I'm sorry for not acting sooner. I wasn't sure on what to do...."
Geto escaped. His cursed spirits are all over Tokyo. Satoru Gojo is gone. Nanami and Nobara are dead. 
If anything, you all lost. And horribly so.
On top of that, you have no idea where Megumi is currently.
You shouldn't have left him in that street in Shibuya. You hope Toge found him.
You suppose it's not Yuki's fault. If anything, you blame the higher ups.
" ...The situation had reached a point where I thought I should just keep an eye on things. At least temporarily... Have you realized I'm not necessarily on your side? I'm just a humble beauty who wants to eradicate cursed spirits from the world. By way of apology, my comrades and I will take responsibility for delivering those kids who were there. It's about time I confront Tengen. 
What will you do?"
You don't know. Originally, you just wanted to go home. On top of that, you haven't felt as homesick as you do right now. 
However, you can't. You know so. You have to help. They've taken you in after all, cared for you like you had always been one of their students. You owe it to Gojo sensei at least. You have to help get him his freedom. Going home comes later.
Sukuna glances at you. He knows you better than most people. He understands what's going through your head, how you work. He still has to catch up to what's been going on here. On who Ryomen Sukuna is. On Yuuji's story. On your own. However, he can't find it in himself to care. He figures he'll figure it out. You could be one of the curse users in this universe, and he'd still follow you. All the people he cares about are in your universe anyway.
Silently, his hand reaches out to hold your own. You glance up, but his expression is the same as always. No emotion shown on his face. You know he's reassuring you though. He'll stick by you, no matter what.
You give him a small smile, before looking at Yuuji.
" Yuuji, we'll follow you. " 
Sukuna lets go of your hands, crossing his arms over one another as he looks at the boy he recognizes as his twin brother.
" No."
You blink in surprise. Sukuna raises a brow.
" The fuck you mean no?"
Yuuji shakes his head, eyes flitting over the visible injuries on you.
" I've already nearly killed Y/N. I don't want that to happen again. You two should continue to figure out how to go home. If you help, your chances of dying only increases."
" Yuuji, no, that literally wasn't you. Ryomen Sukuna tried to kill me. Not you.-"
" Don't be so angsty. It's stupid, and pathetic. We're not weak. And we're here anyway so we might as well help. Besides, I trust our classmates to manage bringing us home."
Yuuji sighs.
He should've expected this. You never seemed to listen anyway, and why would your best friend be any different?
" Y/N-"
" No. None of that."
You're glaring at him.
Yuuji sighs.
 Of course, you and Sukuna end up joining him.
-
Parallel Jujutsu Kaisen Universe
Gojo Satoru's eyes widen beneath his blindfold, taking the weapon his student is holding.
" He lost it?"
" Don't think so. Rather the portal seemed to reject it. It was weird, considering it was clicked onto the Chain when he fell in. "
Fushiguro Megumi is a bit bloodied up, but still standing and ready to go yet again. Gojo is proud of his students. They've all grown quickly, jumping opportunities and often being able to take on things much bigger than them. It was rare for them to ask for help, especially for Megumi and Sukuna.His beloved angsty teenager students who would much rather get sucked into a portal towards some other place than ask their beloved sensei for help.
Gojo can't help but smile, causing Megumi to grimace.
" What're you smiling about?"
" Can't believe my dear students have finally decided to come ask for my help." 
Megumi sighs.
" Don't ever tell Sukuna I did...."
Megumi trails off, eyes on the table between them.
" I just want my friends back. Even if they're annoying."
Gojo smiles.
" Wouldn't dream of it. Go visit Shoko, leave it to your sensei."
Megumi shakes his head, wiping the blood of his forehead.
" I'm fine. Let's get Nobara and Yuuji." 
He prefers your touch to Shoko's anyway. Not that he'll ever tell you though.
[ A/N: We're in the manga : D. Never expected people to like this tbh. Glad you do tho. 
ALSO I have finally decided. It's a (your) Sukuna X you, Megumi X you (maybe I'll make a bonus epilogue with (your) megumi X you. No promises on that though.)
Lastly, the sweet romance stuff is mostly reserved for the epilogues bc we're mostly following the canon story line.]
The Anomaly Taglist
@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi @hanatsuki-hime @betizda @sh0uk1 @nymphsdomain @suppeepsandweebs @sweetchimpeaches
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tragedy-of-commons · 9 hours
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GWEN POOKIE POOKIE IM SO PROUD OF YOU !!! CONGRATS ON GETTING 200 💥💥💥 YOU DESERVE SOSOSO MUCH !!
as for your prompt, can i get a "that was but a moment of weakness. think nothing of it." with dan feng? romantic please bc lord im starving of dan feng content
AGAIN, CONGRATS ON 200!! HERES TO YOUR FOLLOWER EVENT GOING BOOM BOOM BOOM <333
"That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it."
Dan Feng's words echo into an ensuing chasm of silence. You're getting real tired of this whole back and forth, but you have to hold your tongue - the High Elder would not like to be called out on his lie so easily.
...even if his tail is wrapped snugly around your waist, and his austere countenance is plagued by a tinge of pink.
"Really? You're not known for being weak," you jab, unable to help yourself. Being 'your roguish self' in his presence is inevitable.
Dan Feng's tail unhands you, lashing side to side before stilling. His quarters are unlike anything you've ever seen, really; opulent cushions and fabrics making up the (multiple) chaises, a vanity littered with vibrant lotus blooms, and a subtle air of cloudhymn magic buzzing about each nook and cranny.
Even though you've been let in here at least a dozen times, it still feels like you're trespassing on sacred ground.
"A lapse in judgment, then," he supplies, taking a few purposeful strides towards the highlight of the chambers themselves - the vanity. "It happens to the best of us, despite what you may believe."
You watch as he sits down, ramrod straight. When he starts to tap his foot impatiently, you groan and slink over.
Dan Feng, Imbibitor Lunae, High Elder of the Vidyadhara, Guardian of Scalegorge Waterscape... is utterly enchanting. Your own reflection fades into white noise in the image of the mirror, subdued by his presence alone.
Without making him wait any longer, you pick up the familiar hairbrush within reach, beginning to comb through his tresses delicately. Whenever you snag on a minute tangle, he stiffens in warning before you curb the knot.
You hum. "Well, then I'm glad it happened to you, Esteemed One. Without your 'lapse in judgment', I'd have been doomed to my next incarnation much earlier than I would've liked."
You're referring to the incident that took place earlier today. On a stroll with the High Elder himself, a banditry of rebels and mutineers attempted to assassinate Dan Feng, and by extension, you as well.
It went by in a flash; one second, you were holding his hand and chatting about something as mundane as the scenery - the next, you were shoved behind his back as four Vidyadhara, your own kind, jumped out of the shadows, hungry to further their agenda.
The speed at which he ran Cloud-Piercer through them all was unbelievable. Seconds had gone by, not a hair on your head out of place, yet the enemies lied vanquished on the ground. Finally, Dan Feng had turned to you afterward, scanning you for any signs of injury with a pinched brow.
He almost looked panicked then. No high and mighty quips, no diluted sarcasm, no nothing! It was strange, to say the least.
News had spread like wildfire, and after rushing through the appropriate procedures, Dan Feng stuck to you like glue. He often says that he likes to keep you close so you don't fall into a crevice and perish, but this is different.
He protected you and your honor with his life. He pulled you close with his tail during the following hours - an intimate act usually reserved for lovers, neurotically monitoring anyone who got too close to you, baring just a hint of fang.
You know he cares for you in his own way, but this is dizzying.
"...you are exempt from referring to me by formal title," he sobers you from your thoughts, likely sensing your distress. After all, healers such as him are constantly attuned to other people's wavelengths. "It was nothing. There is no need to be grateful."
That response also strikes you as odd. Usually, Dan Feng basks in your praise and gratitude. Now, he's almost humble, whispering so only you can hear him.
Perhaps, in the depths of that statement, he's leaving an underlying message for you to pick up on. Something possibly along the lines of:
Don't be grateful. I could've lost you.
Your grip on the silver handle of the brush tightens. "If you say so."
The remaining knots are lightwork, Dan Feng's hair pooling around his pointed ears, now silky and smooth. His eyes are closed, posture relaxed and statuesque. When you do get to see him like this, it's always healing in its own right.
Experimentally, you brush your fingers over the nape of his neck. Sparkling teal scales adorn the skin there, responsive to your gentle touch. They flare at the intrusive sensation before calming, passively granting you permission to continue.
"That was the first time you were with me when an attempt on my life had been made," he cracks open his eyes, gazing at your reflection instead of his own. "I can't guarantee it won't happen again."
"I'm aware."
You set the hairbrush back onto the vanity, task completed. At this point in the routine, you'd normally excuse yourself to go about your own obligations.
But now? You remain rooted behind a man that you desperately want to love, just a little bit more.
"Something is on your mind," Dan Feng cuts in, "I suggest you voice your concerns."
He knows you just as well as you know him, even if he acts above vulnerability and the baggage that comes with it. Ghosting your fingers up the slope of his skin and through his dark locks, you sigh. Translating your turmoil into words has never been an easy feat.
Your hand now rests in between his regal horns, unsure. You've never so recklessly tested the waters before - but you need answers. You want to know, desperately, if he views you in the same light that you bestow upon him.
"Dan Feng," you whisper, admiring the appendages and their luminescent glow. They match the rest of him perfectly, and you've always imagined what it'd be like to touch them - to revere them. Gentle sea green, molded into branch-like coral.
"May I?" you hope.
When the Imbibitor Lunae's response comes, it's sweet, chased by a resigned sigh that tells you all you need to know.
"If you so wish."
Initially, you feel the telltale vibrations of him shuddering as you make yourself known as his lover. Today, in some other universe, Dan Feng might have lost you. But in this one, where you're both intertwined in the best possible way?
There is not a chance he can get rid of you so easily.
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🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren
a/n: your wish is my command, miss illu :3 your support brings a tear to this old clown's eye... but thank you, really! almost done with all the requests, and i hope you enjoy what i did with dan feng. never written for him before, but your writing served as inspo ^^
event post here
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pleasantspark · 1 day
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Dissecting the Inconsistencies in Poison (Commentary)
For some fucking reason despite this song intending to be Anti-Rape and Blake trying to be the next Michael Kovich with him trying so hard to sound like him, the song makes me think it's Pro-Rape.
I'm not above a love to cash in Another lover underneath those flashin' lights Another one of those ruthless nights Yeah, yeah, yeah
In this verse, Angel Dust is talking about his work as being a Porn Star, and how he spends time under the spotlight recording with strangers "Another lover" implies there's more than one each night.
I shoulda' guessed that this would happen I shoulda' known it when I looked in your red-hot eyes Spewin' all your red-hot lies Yeah, yeah, yeah
In this verse, he laments on how he should have guessed what had happened, and how he should have known it by telling from a red flag via Valentino. Red hot lies are also referring to manipulation.
What's the worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself
He blames himself for ending up in this Hell.
'Cause I know you're poison You're feedin' me poison Addicted to this feelin', I can't help but swallow Up your poison I made my choice, and Every night I'm livin' like there's no tomorrow
This verse conflicts me, on one hand, he's accepting of the poison and refusing the much needed help, and I am pretty sure Val isn't actively trying to isolate him from anyone else, which makes him less of a threat and all of his threats have to do with something related to making Angel Dust fuck other people. And most of the threats sound so goofy that it makes me wanna fucking cringe.
He's talking about how he has no choice but to accept the poison I get it, he's a victim but the thing is about Angel Dust as a whole is, that the song is not even representive of the fact this guy is a victim of SA, rather he's depicted as enjoying it and doing all this.
Oh-oh, oh-oh Any way you want me, baby That's the way you got me, I'll be yours My story's gonna end with me dead from your poison
Most of the time, I believe he finds himself in a place where he is trapped, although there's tons of people who he cares about. The best part of a character arc for him would technically be Angel Dust being led to believe most of the people in the Hotel were "using him" and that he is forced to stay with Val until he is showed that people care about him.
I got so good at bein' untrue I got so good at tellin' you what you wanna hear I disassociate, disappear Yeah, yeah, yeah So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp
In this verse, he is completely talking about losing himself, and falling into the gulp of Val's poison. Which we don't see any of.
Yeah, I know it's poison You're feedin' me poison I'm chokin' from the taste and I can't help but swallow Up your poison I made my choice, and Every night I'm wasted like there's no tomorrow Oh-oh, oh-oh Any way you want me, baby That's the way you got me, I'll be yours My story's gonna end with me dead from your poison Poison, I'm drownin' in poison I'm fillin' up my glass but it's always hollow Full of poison, I'm sick of the poison Wish I had something to live for tomorrow…
And it ends with him having a (semi) realistic panic attack to distract us from the fact that Angel Dust deadass sang a Love Song about his abuser.
This is a Pop Song.
I feel like making a song about anti-rape SHOULDN'T be something like Pop, it's too cheerful and makes it insensitive. I feel like something on the level of Nirvana can actually work out.
In Conclusion, while Poison is catchy, it's NOT a good song at all, and gives me mixed signals. Compared to Addict its a complete downgrade of it, beyond the vocals and lyrics. No 8 year old should be listening to this, and no one should "Cum" to the visuals VivziePop.
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hatsukeii · 12 hours
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think fast / childhood bsf!tsukshima kei x reader
genre(s): childhood best friends x soulmates???? past lives and normal people by sally rooney coded im a sally rooney MEATRIDER!! angsty, gut-wrenching longing, bittersweet / hopeful ending so it's not all bad!! nostalgia is going to carry this fic so hard it's going to be a fun, fun time...
warning(s): eventual smut!! all characters are aged up to 21!!MDNI (at least up until the observatory)!! wrap it before you tap it!! (sorry kids), female leaning anatomy because smut but pronouns are gn all throughout and honestly you could read it as gn anyways:)) dead dad warning (my dad is NOT dead this was just convenient to kick off the thing), i fw the timeline of the world??? pretend flip phones were still in use in like 2012 or something idk
wc: ~6.3k
tldr; time has a way of reminding Kei of its presence, and its escape. you are the reminder it has been sending to him for six years.
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Fate: A power believed to cause and control all events, so that one cannot change or determine the way things will happen. 
It is a sunny afternoon when you step foot into Sendai, Miyagi. A beautiful day of golden warmth beaming onto petals of pink, red, and white, wrapped in coffee-stained newspapers and tied together with a spool of twine. The bouquet lies on browning grass, a contemptible reminder of the time that has passed since your last appearance here, six years ago, and you crouch down to the ground. Now face to face with the engraving of a full name on a slab of polished granite, you hesitate. Your father lived in a language that you can no longer speak, died in a country you no longer call your home. When you whisper blessings and apologies at the gravestone in broken Japanese and slurred syllables, you sound like a stranger. A stranger who sits in a graveyard at noon, with nothing but a bouquet from the nearby florist in hand, and a promise, stuttered out in half-decent Japanese, to return again the next year. 
When a second bouquet falls to the ground behind you, and you turn around, Tsukishima Kei thinks this is what English speakers like you would call fate. He’s a little taller now, and bulkier too, and you have to crane your head higher than you remember just to meet his eyes. You don’t recognise the glasses he dons anymore, the black rectangles from his teenage years swapped out for rounded squares and silver frames. But he has a towel in his hand, a towel that has his initials poorly stitched into the corner with red string. You wonder if the matching one he made you, eleven years ago, is collecting dust somewhere in your dormitory, halfway across the world. 
“You’re back.”
“It’s been a while, Kei.”
You can no longer differentiate Japanese syllables clearly, and your statement jumbles into nonsense in your head. Kei hears the English woven into your accent in the way you roll your tongue like foreigners do, and in the odd intonations that don’t exist in your mother tongue. You don’t even remember your father’s dislike for white flowers. London has truly done a number on you. 
“Why? Why now?”
You bite your nail, a persistent habit that Kei frowns at. He picks up his flowers, and steps towards the gravestone, just close enough for your knee to brush against him for a moment. The bouquet in his hand is wrapped in plastic and filled with red and pink, the white from your own sticking out like a sore thumb when he places his flowers gently on the grass beside yours. He tosses the towel in his hand, opening it up against his palm, and you take it from him. If you cannot get the language right, or the flowers, this is the least you can do. Cobwebs stick to the fabric as you sweep at the granite slab, watching soot and dust fall to the grass. The curves and dips of the gravestone are familiar once again, and you dig the towel into every nook and cranny. You feel Kei’s body shift, before his knee is touching yours and his face is finally level with your peripheral vision. He glances at you, waiting. His knees bounce in anticipation. 
“Never had the chance, college has been a lot.”
Your phone rings as you finish cleaning. The ringtone is familiar, unchanged from when you used to have a flip phone, in fact. Kei hums along to the jingle for the four seconds that the call is left unanswered, before it cuts off into a flurry of English. He catches something about research, and a thesis, his shabby English unable to fill in any more than that. He’s never known you were interested in research, let alone what it is that you’re researching. All he’s known is your aspiration of becoming a librarian when you were six, and his promise to borrow books from you for the museum that he swore he would one day work at. Now, he works at the museum, sorts antique scripts and yellowed books into cabinets and display shelves. He does not borrow books from you. Now, you talk, but nothing makes sense to him.
You end the call, mumbling foreign curses as you shove your phone back into your pocket. Clicking your tongue, you turn to Kei, who stares at the flowers on the ground. He pushes his glasses up when they slide down his nose, and you resist the familiar urge to nag him about buying the right frames for his face. 
“Yeah, college has been mostly phone calls like that.”
He nods, a half-hearted chuckle huffing from his nose. He’s forgotten what it’s like to sit at a graveyard with somebody else, the annual reminder of a lonely death replaced by another this year as you dust off his towel, and drop it onto his thigh. He swipes it from his leg, folding it into quarters and sliding it into his pocket. 
“So you choose to come now, without a word? Not even a heads up? Six years after leaving?” Kei’s voice rises at each question, the same way it did six years ago when you broke the news of leaving Japan to him. This hurts him to ask, that much you can still recognise.
“I would have come sooner if I had the chance. I’ve missed everyone so much.”
You pluck a petal from a white flower in your bouquet, then another, until all that remains is the naked bulb, and scatter them onto the ground beside you. Perhaps the next person that’s been buried under six feet of dirt used to have a liking for them. Kei remains unmoving, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. His knee stops bouncing. 
“How long will you stay for?”
“Today, then Friday and Saturday too. Flight back is Sunday night.”
Six years of waiting, and this is what it amounts to. A weekend and a bit. Despite that, Kei still thinks this must be fate, in all the languages that it exists in. Six years of life, and love, and hurt, all to be condensed into four measly days. Yet as Kei pushes himself off the ground, dusting his trousers off, he still thinks that this unlikely, yet conveniently timed visit must be the answer to his pleas for your return. That this must be some heavenly reward, good karma for visiting your father’s grave annually on your behalf. You watch him turn to leave, and he calls out to you as he walks away from your father’s grave. 
“Everyone’s at Hinata’s old place tomorrow. You should come by if you can.”
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Change: to replace (something) with something else, especially something of the same kind that is newer or better; substitute one thing for (another).
All it takes is one coincidental exchange of panicked glances at the first throw up of the night for you and Kei to leave together. Hinata slurs a drunken farewell, tries to embrace you as you slip your sneakers on at the door, and you make a note to yourself that you really do not miss most of the people here, spare for the volleyball team. Kei waits at the door, holding it open for when you finally shake Hinata off of your back, and step through. The night is chilly, the warmth in your skin from the indoor heating system emanating into the midnight air. You kick rocks along the pavement as you walk, scattering pigeons that remain awake and active at this time, and Kei smiles at your antics. You still hate birds, and you still remember the trick he taught you when you were nine for chasing away pigeons that flocked around you for food. 
“Who are you staying with?”
“My mom’s.”
The road leads the two of you to a high school. Kei has not come back to Karasuno since graduation. You squint in the dark, scanning the school, and you don’t recognise the new building that stands in place of the old auditorium. He watches you crouch at the plaque next to the front gate, tracing the letters engraved on it with the pad of your thumb. Some part of him blames Karasuno for being a bad place to you, the other parts blame himself for not being good enough to outweigh it.
“It’s changed.”
“Everything has.”
You rattle the locked entrance, the chain and padlock hitting against cold metal. It won’t open, so you look up through the gap of the gate. Six years ago, on that rooftop, was where you stood over a cold lunch box and emptied convenience store drinks, back against the wire fence, saying to Kei, I’m leaving tomorrow. On that day, you had packed yakisoba for his lunch, and nothing for yourself. He could barely respond to your announcement, only dropping his chopsticks and asking you, why? You told him something along the lines of being an expat, and a better school for what you wanted, all in the fluent Japanese you once spoke. Nothing made sense to him anyways. 
When you turn back to him, his hands are in the pockets of his jacket, and his nose is red from the cold air. You stand beside him, staring aimlessly at Karasuno from outside its barriers. 
“Do you still play volleyball?” 
“Yeah, Sendai Frogs.”
You hum, and then wonder why you only asked tonight, and why you’re surprised. He shrugs, clouds of white puffing from his mouth when he breathes out. He tries to blow a wisp of hair away from his face, and you suddenly realise that his hair has grown too, along with his height. It fails, and he tries again. You reach up to swipe at his bangs, before running your fingers backwards through his hair. It parts itself as you lift your hands from his head, and falls into place neatly. A cold breeze whizzes by, and undoes your work, sending strands of gold into his face once again. You snicker a little.
“You know, you could ask my mom to trim it for you like she used to.”
“Nah, I prefer this.”
It isn’t until you turn to look at him properly that you see how much time has passed. He likes his hair longer these days, the choppy hairdo of his teenage years now nothing but an old preference, and you wonder if he is still a loyal customer of your mother’s salon. When he pulls his hands from his pockets and blows hot air into them, calluses line the bases of his fingers, the blisters of his high school years hardened by trials of time and effort. There are bags under his eyes, eyes that are now a little rounder, and softer too. When he speaks, monotone and tired, you realise his snarkiness has dissipated into general frustration. You stare until his eyes dart to you, and turn away quickly, ashamed. Leaving Karasuno has taken your hand and led you to a purpose that you never knew you were capable of. You wonder what the hell it has done to Tsukishima Kei. 
“It looks good.”
He breathes in sharply, then exhales with a huff, shoulders relaxing as he stuffs his hands back into his pockets. You suddenly realise that your fingers have gone numb from the cold of the night, fingertips tingling like a million frost-bitten needles poking into your skin. You also stuff your hands into your pockets, rubbing your fingers against each other to generate some heat. Then, Kei’s looping his arm around yours, and pulling you away from Karasuno High School. He keeps on his straight path, and you stumble along behind his leaping steps. When you round a corner, the night breeze grows into something less imperturbable, and more vicious, pushing the two of you forward from behind in slashes of cold. The sea is near. 
“Is this the beach we used to go to?”
“You still remember it.”
He drags you down a flight of stairs to Fukanuma Beach, and the misty sea air rushes to your head. When he leads you to the shoreline, you hesitate. The sea has been off limits since the two of you were five, a regulation put in place in remembrance of the Great Sendai Earthquake. An earthquake that saw Kei and yourself hunched beneath the same table in the middle of class, huddled next to each other as you cried for your parents. Now, in your final years of college, as the water slips beneath the soles of his shoes, pushing and receding in layers of aqua and bubbles of white, it seems that time has slipped by just as easily too. Time, that saw the fading of the earthquake’s devastation, despite the loss of thousands, including your father. Time, that frayed the string connecting yourself to Kei as you moved through life halfway across the world from Japan. Time, that passes through you like sand spilling between your fingers on a beach you once thought you knew, but has changed like the unprohibited water that seems to push further up into the shore at each tidal wave. 
“They lifted the ban?”
“A few months ago, yeah.”
You step into the next wave that fizzles into foam, and the water crashes into the toe of your shoes. Crouching, you push mounds of wet sand into a cylinder, flattening the top and pushing divots in equal intervals. Kei joins, moulding shorter ones beside your own and drawing windows into the side. You finish, and he stands, smiling at the creation. You cover the top, afraid he will stomp on it, a trademark of Kei’s whenever you built sandcastles with him in childhood. Instead, he laughs, and walks further into the water. When you get up to join him, the hems of his trousers are soaked, shoes also covered in a sheen of wetness. You hop over the castle, and the next wave that comes sends its foundations crumbling back into the sea. 
“We used to do that. You’d destroy it every time.”
Kei chuckles, and looks back to see the half destroyed castle. Clicking his tongue, he returns to the rubble, and you watch his hands push mounds of sand towards what is left standing. 
“I’d always build a better one for you afterwards though.”
He dusts his hands off when he finishes, and the waves fizzle out just before they hit the two-tiered sandcastle. You sniff, holding your arms close to your chest. When Kei looks up, he feels like the summer of being seven years old again, smiling at you with his missing front tooth when you sniffle and laugh at the improved castle he’s put together for you. Now, it is winter. He only grins with the corners of his lips. You only sniff because it’s cold. 
“Kei.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s really been a while. How have you been?”
He steps over the castle towards you, careful not to break it. Your hair blows in your face from the beach breeze and your eyes squint from the sand that flies into the air, and Kei takes it all in when you’re face to face with him. When he opens his mouth, some selfish part of him thinks about casting his words into shackles of regret, so heavy that they weigh you down and keep you in Japan, in Sendai, on this beach, somewhere close to him.
“Do you want to stay the night? Like you used to?”
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Nostalgia: A sentimental longing, or wistful yearning for a return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition.
Kei does not take you to his family house. He leads you up stairs that make no sense, and hallways that stretch on forever, until you finally reach his flat. He wipes his shoes on the doormat, throws his keys into a glass bowl upon entry, and hangs his jacket on a hook mounted to his front door instead of the coathanger that used to stand beside it. You look around, searching for the shells you once collected in a jar for his tenth birthday. When your eyes land on a jar filled with conches and cowries, you let go of a breath you were unaware of holding. They sit on the top of his bookshelf, above textbooks and file organisers. A knot forms in your throat at the realisation that the jar sits alone in its compartment, with nothing beside it. You’ve done the same to the jazz vinyl Kei gifted you at the airport before your departure. You don’t realise that he’s disappeared somewhere as you stare at the shells, until a shirt and a pair of shorts are thrown into your chest. He stands at the entrance to a hallway, donning sweatpants and an old hoodie, one that’s clearly a size too small. The pocket is lousily sewn on, a result of a mishap that occurred when you had borrowed it once. He doesn’t know that you spent the night learning to sew fabric just to fix it.
“Change. It’ll be more comfortable.”
You scurry through the hallway to his bathroom, pulling the shirt and shorts on hastily, before balling up your clothes and returning to the living room. Kei sits at his couch, now bound in leather instead of fabric, and clicks at the television. You join beside him, legs splaying across his own subconsciously. He doesn’t move. He stops at a movie, one you’ve seen hundreds of times before at his old house. It drones on in the background as he watches in silence, his arms now draped over your knees. The first time he watched this movie, it was in his old home, cross-legged on the carpeted ground with you on the couch behind him. Your hands used to press into his shoulders from above, shake them whenever your favourite scenes came on, squeeze them when you laughed until tears rolled from your eyes. Now that his new flat lacks a rug, he’s willing to settle with your legs on his own. Flashing lights illuminate the dark room in sequences that you can still recall perfectly from memory. He watches the movie. You watch him. 
“Have you been doing good, Kei?”
Turning to you, he pushes his glasses up into his hair, leaning further back. You shuffle closer, legs bending as your shoulder digs into the leather couch. A strand of blond falls into his face, and you lift his glasses to tuck it back, before smoothing your hands over his mess of hair, combing and pushing with your fingertips.The words from the television melt into gibberish when he hums in satisfaction, what is unspoken between you two is more glaring than ever.
“I’ve been okay.” He cuts off, then finds himself thinking of what to tell you first, amongst the recollections of life that rush through his head. “Started working at the museum a couple years ago.” He wishes that you still remember the building, where the marble floors squeaked beneath your slippers, and glass panels lined the walls, hiding away treasures and artefacts that have withstood centuries, maybe even eons of erosion and weathering.
You nod, mind filling with the many museum visits you had with him there. He’s always liked the dinosaurs more than the shells. When you breathe out a chuckle, he knows you’re recalling the time he almost pissed himself at a life-sized, moving tyrannosaurus rex model. 
“What about you?”
“Research. I’ve been doing research about…” you sign in the air, searching for the Japanese words that have slipped from your mind. Surrendering, you whip your phone out, searching for a translation. 
“Archaeology?”
“Yeah, that. No more librarian dreams for me. More dinosaurs, though.”
A smile finds its way onto Kei’s face, one that softens his cheeks and flattens his eyes into crescents. He wonders if amongst the silver plaques and digital displays, your work is engraved in there somewhere. If each time he explains something to some bright-eyed child, who scuttles around the museum as you and him once did, he is unknowingly speaking in your language, translated until he can decipher the thoughts that run through your mind in your research, your memories, your dreams too. 
“Maybe it’s in the museum somewhere. I’m willing to bet.”
“I hope it is.”
Your conversation fizzles back into silence, and the characters on the television do too. The two on the screen sit in a field, mere inches apart. The two of you look at each other, your knees now leaned into Kei’s chest and one of his arms draped along the back of the couch. When he pulls his glasses back to his eyes, and studies you all over again, it hits him that you really haven’t changed all that much, even after your six year separation. Six years older, with the exhaustion of a functioning adult, but you still gnaw on your cheeks, and tilt your head as you ask questions. Six years apart, and you are still you, who taught him to build sandcastles, and introduced him to his favourite movie, and fixed his hair whenever it stuck up in stubborn peaks of gold. When you let your eyes close, and drop your head onto his shoulder, you wait for lost time to tick backwards, until you’re on the rooftop with him once again. In this version of time, you blush when you tell him that you’ve chosen to stay in Japan instead. Pushing your head further into the crook of his neck, Kei’s chin reaches over to rest on the top of your crown. The credits of the movie roll in the background, and you mumble into the skin of his pulse. 
“Can you take me there? I’ve missed it.” Your words send vibrations down his spine, sending his head into a frenzy as he pushes his hands against the couch harder. 
“The museum?” It will be closed for the weekend, but Kei nods anyway. He’s sure he can find his way in through the back. Maybe he’ll take you to the fossils again, let you run your fingers along smooth amber and stone engravings. Perhaps he could show you the new exhibitions, ones that you won’t miss this time, as you have for the past six years. For now, he thinks he will let you sleep on his shoulder, listen to your soft snores, tremble at every hot breath that fans onto his neck. 
The credits roll to the end, and come to a stop. Kei removes his arm from the couch to grab the remote from his coffee table. He rewinds the movie to the start.
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思慕 [しぼ, shibo]: yearning; deep longing, especially when accompanied by tenderness or sadness.
On the final night of your stay, you learn that Kei still giggles when he breaks rules, as he drags you through the back entrance of the closed museum. He maneuvers through hallways of antique paintings and repurposed junk, slips into dark stairwells illuminated by the flashlight of his phone, traps your wrist between his fingers and chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he takes you higher, and higher, and higher. You’ve lost count of how many flights of stairs have gone by when he taps his keycard against a sensor by a backdoor, and pushes it open. The museum observatory, once a mess of bamboo scaffolding and green covers, now allows silver moonlight through its glass dome, boasting billions of iridescent stars nestled in a blanket of hazy midnight. A decade of your anticipation has resulted in a circular space, hundreds of plush recliners lining the circumference of the room, and you wonder how many eyes have watched the stars from those seats before you ever had the chance to. When Kei leads you further into the observatory, you step foot onto the north star plastered on the ground in the centre of the room, where nothing but a telescope remains in a ten-foot radius. He takes a spot on the ground, back pressed against the cushioned edge of a seat.
“I figured this is the best spot. Better than any of the seats, actually.” He plants his feet on the ground, bending his knees and spreading them just wide enough for you to sit in between. You cross your legs, wagging them up and down as your hands hold your shins, and he lowers his legs, stretching them out in front of him. Leaning back, your spine hits a spot between his ribs, the same way it did when you were thirteen, and fourteen, and fifteen, staring at stars from the grass of his backyard. You pity the visitors that have yet to discover the simplicity of stargazing from the ground, hands pushed into the ground for stability, dirt and moisture seeping into the fabric of clothing. Pushing further into him, his breathing is heavy against your back, chest rising in rhythmic ups and downs. For what feels like hours, you sit in silence, eyes trained on your fingers that pick and fiddle. At the realisation that you haven’t looked at the stars in years, something bubbles in your stomach, pervasive, relentless. When you finally loll your head backwards to fall on his shoulder, and the tip of Kei’s nose grazes your cheekbone, you wonder how long he has not looked at the stars for as well. 
“Why’d you stop calling?” His sudden question sends a haze rushing into your head.
You swallow thickly. If the passage of time were a sin, you’d burden it with all your explanations. Telling him that now would seem like some lousy excuse.
“It stopped going to your line a year after I left.” You pause, searching for the right words to use amidst the sea of Japanese and English that you must now sort out. “I only stopped trying after another month, the voicemail just said your number was no longer in use.” 
Kei wishes he could dig his fingers into his chest and rip his heart out. If only he hadn’t stupidly broken his phone that night, five years ago during volleyball practice. If only he had checked his pockets before entering the court, just as he has done hundreds of times before. If only he had this, if only he had that, he might just torment himself for the rest of his life. His breath hitches, shoulder freezing rigid. Time does not differentiate between the knowing and oblivious. It slips and leaks beneath the noses of all that it encompasses, and it is but the cautious few that know to grab it, and join in on its journey. He knows now that he is not one of them, not after he’s cursed at the passage of time over and over and over for his own blunder.
“I broke my phone in a game. Got a new one so the number changed as well, fuck me.”
You laugh dryly into the empty observatory. The occasional twinkling of the stars above do nothing to make his explanation any easier. You think you’ll blame it all on doomed fate that you’ve spent five years trying to find somebody that felt the same as Kei did, to no avail. Blame it on cursed luck that you’ve clawed and grabbed at anything familiar enough, archaeology, jazz vinyls, old DVDs of the movie shared between two, all to remind yourself that he too, was once within grasp. You say nothing, because you don’t see a reason to. Instead, you push your head into his neck, drown in the scent of his cologne, ease yourself into his now grown body. You don’t see him wipe a hand across his mouth, then rub his eyes with pinched fingers. 
When Kei decides to speak again, it is what feels like another hour later. He’s readjusted his posture about fifty times by now, arms removed from the ground and draped over your shoulders. The sensation of your hair against his skin is suddenly more prominent than ever when your hands find his own, holding them closer to yourself.
“If I didn’t find you at the grave, would you have looked for me?” His question is heavy, weighing his chest down as the words leave his throat in a hesitant cluster. You turn to look at him, and your eyes linger on his own when you squeeze his hands once, twice, then a third time. 
“I’ve been looking for five years. Nobody else could take me home.” Your heart rushes to your mouth at your confession, and the bob of Kei’s throat does not go unnoticed. One of his hands comes up to hold your shoulder, pushing it towards himself until your body twists, rubbing against his. You let go of him, pressing your fingers into the ground between his legs instead, and he breathes out shakily, his windpipe suddenly cleared of its uncertainty.
“You’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Yes, I am.”
His fingers slide down to grab your wrist, before going numb completely. His unoccupied hand peels itself from the floor and settles on the side of your waist. Your mouth goes dry when Kei breathes, hot and heavy, his eyes travelling to every inch of you. A bout of heat rushes from his chest to his head, and his legs, and his arms too. The air between the two of you is thick, and it sends your head into a feverish blur. The ground collapses beneath your knees as they shift to press into the floor, and you come face to face with Tsukishima Kei, who prefers his hair parted in bangs on the sides of his face, and wears silver frames instead of black ones. Tsukishima Kei, who has been visiting your father’s grave on your behalf for six years, and still plays volleyball even in his adulthood. Tsukishima Kei, whose eyes are finally finished with their ventures across your figure, that is pushed up against him on the ground of an observatory, and is learning whatever he can about you when his fingers tighten around your wrists and he kisses you without a warning. 
Once, at the young, innocent age of seven, Tsukishima Kei kissed you in this museum. You had run a little too fast, stepped on your loose laces and fallen onto the ground face first. You sulked at a bench facing some random painting of melting clocks, red dots scattered across a purple patch right beneath your eye. When he kneeled in front of you to grab your face, and pressed his lips onto the bruise for a fraction of a second, he must have kissed the pain away, mending the leaking capillaries beneath your skin as he separated from your cheeks with a pop. Now, he pulls against your wrists to push himself closer, traps you in the embrace of his legs around the back of your thighs, wheezes and stutters against your lips at the lack of oxygen in his lungs. His head is running in circles instead of straight paths, and everything is spinning. When your hands reach to grab at his shirt, and palm at his chest, he pulls away only to rip his glasses off and toss them to the ground. Beneath the glow of the moon from above, everything but your flushed cheeks and swollen lips is a blur. You take half a breath in, before it is interrupted by Kei’s palms pulling you in by the sides of your neck, and his mouth on yours again. At seven years old, he ripped bruising pain away from your face with a kiss. At twenty-one, he forces his pain, and grief, and regret rushing into your heart by pushing himself against you, fingers tangling themselves into your hair as he kisses you, desperate, almost distressed. Every tug at your lips is a confession left unspoken, every time Kei opens his mouth apologies spill out into you in choked groans and sighs. At the sensation of his hand leaving your neck, your arm searches for him aimlessly, before he’s palming at you through your pants. He swallows your sudden gasp, and your fingers grip his wrist until your knuckles go white. 
“Did you ever like me?” You can do nothing but choke out a question against his lips, one you’ve pondered about, day in and day out, since your departure from Japan.
By the way that Kei nods frantically, you’re certain that this is what six years of separation has amounted to. 
Sparing no time, your fingers tug at the hem of his boxers, pulling them down just enough to release himself from the fabric constraints. He does the same, hands roaming until they find the waistband of your pants to push them down, fingers tugging your underwear to the side with a flick. He grabs you by the waist beneath your shirt, yanks your body towards him until something feels right and he can’t help but let out a trembling sigh into your shoulder. And when you finally begin to sink yourself onto him, agonisingly slow, you wish that you had never left Japan in the first place. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you wish that you could spend the rest of your life in this observatory with Kei, your hands wrapped around the back of his sweat-slicked neck. 
When he pulls you down to push further, more pervasively, you fall into him, head hanging over his shoulder and arms squeezing around his neck. His inexperienced hands rock you back and forth against his hips, pulling a flurry of gasps and moans from your throat. He lets himself learn how you taste when his teeth tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it down to expose your bare shoulder. His lips latch onto your collarbone, biting and sucking a trail of red marks up to the side of your neck. You shudder at his advances, and he studies the way your walls flutter around him, the erratic pulses that draw stars around his head, how your nails dig into his shoulders, and send his mind into a senseless orbit. 
When he pushes and pulls at you a little harder, you whimper his name into his ear, reduced to nothing but a babbling mess that nibbles at his neck and kisses up his jaw feverishly. First friend, first kiss, first love. The notion that this is another first that Tsukishima Kei has brought upon you sends your mind spiralling. He should have been your first prom date, first roommate, first dance too. If only you hadn’t left him first. You push your head off his shoulder, hands moving to hold his face instead. A wave of pleasure washes over you when his palm presses against your stomach, and you hang your head low again, a shaky sigh released from your chest. 
When you look up, there are tears in Kei’s eyes. He rolls his head back onto the plush seat behind him, hands lifting you off himself fully, just to push you back onto him again. You collapse into his body, palms pressing against his heaving chest. 
“I- fuck! I fucking loved you! I still do!” He speaks it into the glass ceiling as one hand reaches for his face. He wipes his palm across his eyes, only for more tears to form. They are uncontrollable, relentless as he turns his head away from you. He isn’t sure how he will live again tomorrow, not when he’s finally come to a reckoning with the pang in his chest at every thought of you. He thinks he could die the second you step onto that flight back to London, ripped away from him once again. The reality that he cannot stay buried inside you for any longer than the next couple of minutes haunts him to no end, the idea of being separated from you a second time unbearable to even imagine. When he turns back to see you, head on his chest and fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, he decides that reality can wait until he’s finished with you. 
“I love you too- shit, Kei! I never stopped!”
You rut against his hips senselessly now, chasing some unfamiliar high as your vision fades to black and you scream his name until your throat goes hoarse. Kei barely gives you time to breathe, before he’s coming undone from right beneath you, shuddering and groaning as you relax against his body and go limp. He holds you against him, one hand pushing your head against his chest and the other wrapped around your back. He tucks your damp hair behind your ears, places kisses along your temple so he can hear the hums of satisfaction that sound from your curled lips. 
“Can you stay forever?” He mumbles into your hair, and you turn to press your ear against his chest. His heart pounds as he pushes his cheek into the crown of your head, and your hands crawl up his chest to wrap around his neck. When he looks up through the glass ceiling, the stars have not moved one bit.
“I’ll find you again, wherever you are.”
Time may slip away from Tsukishima Kei like petals that fall off the buds of flowers, water that seeps beneath the soles of his sneakers, stardust that hovers above the atmosphere. Yet he has learned that it has a way of always coming back to remind him of its presence, and its escape. You are the reminder that it has been sending to him for six years.
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author's note:
ERM! never writing nsfw again that's for sure but this piece defs had some stuff that i was very, VERY proud of coming up with!! sorry to my minor moots who probably won't read this in its entirety bc of the big MDNI warning... but I honestly don't know how to feel about this piece as a whole... i was super excited to write it but i think i got a little impatient towards the end esp since im always writing at like 3am LOL but i hope you guys liked it anyways!!! i tried really hard to make the dynamic work and i hope it did!!!!!
also ps they exchange numbers again js a little extra bonus that i didn’t get to put into the actual thing
anyways tags!!
@staraxiaa @chuuya-brainrot @akaakeis @laughingfcx @writingsofanomnivore @t0rchknight @bailey-reeds @wyrcan @hiraethwa @fiannee @catsoupki @anonymity-222 @wishi-selfships @kuroppiii
ok love u guys thank u for being patient
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Hi hii !! I've been following your stuff for awhile and i love all the LIs stuff u post and read stuff from urs in ao3 (mostly Whitney stuff i love that idiot AHAHAHHA) Idk if anyone asked about this yet but if PC has an ex and one day at the park or somewhere around town what would the LIs react/do if they saw PC and their ex together ?
Also happy birthday !! Hope for more birthday cakes to come :]]
awe thank you so much!! <3
Whitney struts over and asserts dominance by making out with you. If he finds out you've done anything funny he's beating them up and punishing you >:)
Kylar loses his mind. I'm 50/50 if he attacks them then or waits till later, either way you're probably ending up in the basement.
Robin is a bit self conscious but chooses to believe the best and the two of you are just catching up or something. If his confidence is high he'll ask you about it later.
P!Sydney trusts you, but there is that thought in the back of their mind. He might casually ask about it later.
C!Sydney trusts you but doesn't trust them. He will also assert his dominance, calling you babe or something and wrapping an arm around you.
Alex is self conscious, scared you think you're better off with them. When he's drunk later he will talk about it.
Avery is a bit jealous, nothing crazy but he's not happy.
Eden interrupts, threatens them, and takes you back to the cabin.
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