canndidlondon

[ragingtwilight]

Obsessed w some random charas i had in a dream

[vxsellie]

UHH IM THER PERSON WHO ASKED FOR FIREFIGHTER!ElLLIE HEADCANONS AND TBH IDRM😇

synopsis. more aflame headcannons bc anon sent a second ask saying they actually want it to be specific LMAO

notes. when i tell you my inbox is flooded with questions about aflame / whether there will be a part two / etc etc etc, i mean it's FLOODED. ive said no to a part two, but i decided doing this for u guys might settle u down & put a rest to the millions of asks i get daily on that fic also! i already posted a small thing about ellie & the reader's life together following the story, but i will be repeating things from that post

warnings. mentions of grief (unnamed character dw), discussion of infant death (also unnamed but still a bit heavy), eventual sex (not necessarily smut but enough that i feel i should put a warning)

𐙚 after everything, you ended up staying with ellie for about a month

𐙚 okay so you obviously ended up staying with her & lived happily ever after

𐙚 but lets yap about the slow burn era that inevitably took place beforehand shall we

𐙚 first of all! for the first two weeks, she gave you her room and insisted on sleeping on the couch. you, of course, felt horribly guilty. but ellie was set on giving you the good option & she's quite the force to be reckoned with when she's arguing.

𐙚 so you eventually just gave in and slept in her bed.

𐙚 it was warm and clean and smelled like her. you loved it. the only thing it was missing, however, was her.

𐙚 to make matters worse, you knew ellie was only a short distance from you & yet it felt like you were eons apart. you felt the empty space in her bed like a hole in the earth, always hard to face whilst simultaneously always begging for your attention.

𐙚 understandably, these two weeks spent in separate sleeping quarters was nigh unbearable for you. but you felt out of place to bring it up. i mean, you'd only known her for a short amount of time. who were you to tell her to change the layout she'd si graciously designed for you?

𐙚 you spent the nights yearning for a woman whose touch you'd barely known, cold despite the heavy blankets atop you.

𐙚 but the days were amazing.

𐙚 you'd developed the habit of cooking breakfast after making it that first morning as a thanks for her hospitality. but after seeing the bright look on her face, you'd instantly decided you wanted to make her breakfast every day for the rest of your life.

𐙚 then, following breakfast, you'd get ready in the small bathroom. the first few days, you bumped into one another an immeasurable number of times, ellie apologizing over & over for the lack of space. but you loved it. it felt more intimate, seeing her rush while brushing her teeth because she'd woken up late. it felt like a life you could get used to. one with her.

𐙚 ellie continued to go to work, throwing on her uniform that you tried your hardest not to swoon over seeing her in. that thin black tank top she wears without a bra? fuck you had to force yourself to look away when she stretched her arms up to brush her hair.

𐙚 when she was gone, you spent your time looking for a new place to stay, lazing about the couch with the tv playing low in the background.

𐙚 oh and also! your fucking boss fired you. despite having worked at that stupid grocer for a year now, he didn't hesitate to fire you after missing a few days. you'd even told him that your apartment burned down. he was insistent that punctuality was key. god you hated him.

𐙚 though, your hatred dulled in comparison to the pure rage ellie felt when you told her the news. she was absolutely appalled that someone could be so inhumane as to not give a damn that your home was now a pile of ash on some pavement. she begged you for his number, promising not to say anything bad. but you knew her better than that. you knew she'd call him insults that'd destroy his elderly pea brain. so, apologetically, you refused her his phone number.

𐙚 so, while ellie was away, you also browsed your laptop for open job opportunities near you.

𐙚 ellie said that she could talk miller into hiring you, but you weren't so sure the life of firefighting was for you. plus, you liked seeing ellie in her uniform without having to experience the obligations that come with it.

𐙚 when ellie got home from work every day, she'd be sweaty and gross and exhausted. she'd formed the habit of flopping down on the couch as soon as she gets home, but you've managed to rid her of that once you saw the grimy muck she'd left on the cushions. she's now learned to shower and change before getting on any furniture. honestly, she seems to like that habit more anyway. she refuses to admit it, but you can tell she enjoys the warm water relaxing her muscles and washing away her fatigue.

𐙚 amber also loved it there, alternating between cuddling up with you in ellie's bed or snuggling at ellie's feet on the couch.

𐙚 well, until the day you guys decided to sleep in the same bed.

𐙚 she had come home after a particularly taxing day at work — the first rescue she'd carried out since saving you. it was a single mother and two twin infants. one of the twins didn't make it, sending the mother into a grief ridden spiral. she was sobbing and angry and needed someone to blame. she ended up blaming ellie, the woman whose name she didn't even know. it was horrible. not that ellie could blame her for it. grief comes in every shape and form, and for this woman she just so happened to take the sharp end of the sword.

𐙚 ellie, being who she was, stayed relatively composed during the event itself. the woman banged on her chest as she wailed, shouting that she should have done more and she would have preferred to have burned.

𐙚 eventually, one of Ellie's coworkers dragged the woman away from her and ellie was excused to go home early.

𐙚 when she got back, she was absolutely distraught.

𐙚 you had just made a new recipe and were waiting in the kitchen for ellie to return with a bright grin on your face. but the moment she walked through the door, your smile shattered.

𐙚 her uniform was scorched and torn, her face lined with filth. and, oh, her expression was heart wrenching. her lips were parted, eyes blank as they stared at the floor. she trudged into the living space, shoulders trembling ever so slightly, and flopped down onto the sofa in a manner you hadn't seen her do in quite some time.

𐙚 you were quick to rush to her side, crouching down beside her as you asked what happened. in a shaky voice, she explained that she'd gotten a baby killed. the pure regret and guilt in her tone made your heart crumble a little in your chest.

𐙚 you moved to sit on the edge of the couch, pulling ellie into your arms as you held her. the feel of your body against hers was all it took for her to break down into tears.

𐙚 she tried her hardest to remain dignified, tears falling silently. but when you began to run your hands through her hair and mutter sweet words of consolations, her cries were less orderly as she clung to you and repeated over & over how it was all her fault.

𐙚 for the rest of that night, she was unable to leave your side. she made you sit on the toilet while she showered. then she made you stay in the bathroom while she changed (you turned around). then you two ate dinner together on the couch while watching a funny adult cartoon to cheer her up, your legs touching at all times.

𐙚 so, when it came time for bed, you'd have been cruel not to offer her the empty space beside you.

𐙚 to say she was excited would be an understatement.

𐙚 you guys laid in silence for a bit, comfortable in the company of the other. but then she spoke into the darkness, her tone thick with the weight of all she'd bore that day. she explained everything in more detail, telling you the story without the bias of her guilt.

𐙚 her voice cracked when she got to the boy's death, her voice pitching higher as she fought a second wave of tears.

𐙚 you shifted toward her, sheets rustling in the darkness. you felt around for her, hand eventually finding her body. you pulled her into a warm embrace, holding all of her vulnerability and grief in your two arms as she relaxed into you, melting against the foreign gentility.

𐙚 after that night, you guys started sharing the bed.

𐙚 amber loved it, of course. both her people in one space? absolute heaven for the elderly cat. some nights, she would curl up in the crook behind your knees & other times she'd find comfort atop ellie's face, causing her to wake coughing and hacking up balls of fur.

𐙚 your guys life was one of (much deserved) bliss and domestic comfort after a long period of difficulty.

𐙚 you had yet to do anything actually romantic. but sharing the home felt just as intimate as kissing would have been. though, you ought to admit, you definitely had your fair share of fantasies when it came to that.

𐙚 anyway!

𐙚 and all the while, you sought out a new place to stay

𐙚 you didn't want to move out of ellie's tiny cottage of a home, but you'd have felt horrible asking her to stay permanently when your relationship wasn't even a solidified thing just yet. and so, you searched the internet for worthy places to house you.

𐙚 ellie avoided the topic of you finding a new home, changing the subject whenever it came up & trying to distract you with something else whenever she saw you were looking at houses. you caught on to this, of course. but frankly, you found it endearing and just let it be. you didn't want to draw attention to her blatant distaste for you leaving, for fear that it'd embarrass her. so you feigned oblivion.

𐙚 ellie went with you to every open-house, claiming she just wanted to watch out for creepy realtors. however, whenever you seemed to genuinely like a house, ellie would find something to complain about to make you no longer want to buy it

𐙚 at first, you let it slide because you knew the two of you were beginning to form some kind of bond.

𐙚 but you eventually had to butt in when you spotted her paying off a realtor when they'd both thought you were checking out a different room. she apologized endlessly for it, but never gave an explanation until you practically forced it out of her, asking what the hell she thought she was doing.

𐙚 that's when it all unraveled.

𐙚 on the property of some random shabby house in an impoverished neighborhood, in a kitchen composed of rotted wood cabinets and peeling wallpaper and chipped floor tiles, ellie confessed her feelings for you. and it couldn't have been more perfect.

𐙚 the realtor had obviously left the scene beforehand, fleeing from shock when you'd walked in on him accepting a wad of cash from ellie.

𐙚 and there you stood, in the hollow house, her words of adorations echoing off the walls. her eyes were everywhere but your face, avoiding making eye contact with you. eventually, you'd grown sick of her rambling and just grabbed her by the cheeks and kissed her.

𐙚 it was a quick peck. a small pressing of lips, just to test the waters and silence her uncertainty. when you pulled back, her face still between your hands, her pupils were blown and her jaw was slackened. you laughed at her, a chuckle rumbling your chest.

𐙚 she gasps, offended by your judgement. but you couldn't stop laughing. she eventually reconnected your mouths, her turn to silence you.

𐙚 this kiss was far more passionate, her hands coming to rest on your hips as her tongue slid across your lower lip. you opened your mouth to allow her entry & she took it vehemently, tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth.

𐙚 from then on, you guys were inseparable in a whole new fashion. the moment you'd gotten home that day, she dragged your straight to the bedroom and memorized the curves and dips of your body with her tongue, giving so much care to your being that you were sure she'd eventually run out of love to give.

𐙚 your hands gripped the tufts of her hair as she buried her face between your legs and continued her memorization down there, your head thrown back in pleasure.

𐙚 you'd eventually lost count of how many rounds the two of you went, a thick layer of sweat clinging to your skin as she shyly asked if you had anything left in you. and of course, you could never deny her anything. you giggled before rolling over to tackle her to the bed, eyes full of nothing short of love.

𐙚 you two only stopped when pounding could be heard on the door.

𐙚 ellie rushed to pull her clothes back on as you did the same, her voice shouting at the visitor to just wait a damn second. though, when she opened the door, it was agnes.

𐙚 she pushed past ellie and went straight to you, though you were still pulling a shirt over your head.

𐙚 she beckoned the two of you to the living room, you and ellie both flushed and out of breath as you sat down across from her. every time you two made eye contact, you had to look away before you hopped right across that table and fucked her again.

𐙚 agnes made small talk for a little bit, asking you about work & whether you'd found another place to stay. though, when you shyly explained that you were planning to live with ellie, she scoffed loudly and said,

𐙚 "oh, finally! i was waiting for one of you to tell me. i'm not a fool, dear, i can tell you've been fucking like rabbits. just didn't know i'd have to force it outta you."

𐙚 from there on out, it was no longer awkward. she was herself again, making suggestive comments to you and passive aggressive ones to ellie. and when amber came up to her for cuddles, she stayed for another two hours just holding the cat.

𐙚 needless to say, you and ellie managed quite well. you have yourself the most perfect life you could ask for and all the family you could need (even if it's just agnes barging in on you guys whenever she pleases). honestly, you couldn't ask for anything else.

[stsgooo]

What Once Was.

✩࿐ summary: you had numerous problems, but resting at number one was geto suguru.

warning(s): lovers to enemies to lovers(?), self-indulgent on a nuclear level, reader is kinda obsessed with geto, unrequited requited love, cult leader geto things, semi-jealous fem!gojo, SMUT MDNI. wc; 13.8k

pairing(s): fem!geto/fem!reader, (slight, slight, slight) fem!gojo/fem!reader.

a/n: hello hello everyone!! first of all, i'd like to apologize for my month long absence from writing. i got covid and then i lost, like, all motivation for writing. but im back now so yipppeee! secondly, happy new year!! (23 days later) happy for this to be my first fic of 2024. anyway, i always see wacuoms art on here and twitter and fem!geto makes my brain go brrr SO i drummed up this silly thing based on that specific art piece. you should definitely check out their art bc it’s so beautiful and just AH!!

m.list ao3

ADMITTEDLY, YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH HER HAD NEVER BEEN… RIGHT, TO SAY THE LEAST.

Even in highschool, you’d clung to her like she was a life raft in the middle of the ocean, the only thing keeping you from floating away, the only thing keeping you from drowning. Neither of you had really acknowledged it back then. Much too focused on fighting curses and just fooling around to truly place any type of label on things. It was peaceful then. Both of you are untouched by the horrors that would come.

Then she had rushed off with Gojo on that Star Plasma Vessel mission, beaming and promising she’d be back before you knew it. Only to return with a bloodied chest and sunken eyes as she proclaimed the girl was dead.

Then she hadn’t returned from that mission. She killed 112 people, vanishing into thin air. Leaving Gojo (and you) to clean up the pieces of her sudden and brutal departure.

Back then, you’d only held contempt for her.

From the moment Yaga had pulled you aside during training with a fourth year, looking you in the eyes, and uttered read this, you felt rage. You felt a never ending, unsettled rage that sparked deep within your gut and dared to set aflame those around you.

Five days after departure. 112 dead. Village left in ruins. Home empty, but residuals indicate murder.

Geto Suguru. Sentenced to death.

Finality of her fate for the rest of time was printed on a piece of paper and passed around jujutsu society like wildfire. Always to be a defector. Always to be a murderer. Long forgotten was the girl who used to curl up against you, uttering her worries into your back. The girl who would shyly offer her help whenever you were particularly stumped. Gone was the girl who had offered something different and true to you. Now, a murderer.

A murderer. The girl who had always said death needed to be justified, that things needed reason, was the very same that killed 112 people and promised to kill more. A murderer.

You never quite got used to people associating everything horrible with her. The updates you’d hear as your school life came to an end. Whispers of her wrong doings just never matched with the face and person you had known.

It messed you up for a long time. Her betrayal. Your relationships slowly dwindled away as you fell reclusive. Faces that you used to greet daily, grew further away. Your graduation was met with little fanfare. In fact, you’d only received a voicemail from Shoko informing you that it was over and done while you were on a mission. You drowned all the negativity and the hatred down with work. Quickly assuming your role as a “powerful sorcerer”. A joke, in your books. You’d never been as powerful as the others. Never as useful.

Her defection made you feel selfish.

There was an extreme amount of anger and frustration that you took out on others when it was all pinned on her. Burned some bridges between you and few. Most notably, you and Gojo. Both of you had been pent up with the rage of the betrayal and things had been said. It was almost easy to leave her one and only. To take a job at Kyoto and completely leave Tokyo behind like a nasty stain on your favorite sweater.

What was once home and family, was nothing more than a horrible reminder of what once was.

Time moved on. Life took you different places and you met new people. You matured more and you worked towards trying to appear more stable.

But she always lingered in the back of your mind.

Gojo, when the both of you were still on speaking terms, had brazenly described her as a breath of fresh air. The last bit of blue spring. A beautiful luminous skyline that kept you captivated. Words all so flippant and nonchalant as if it were fact that couldn’t be contested or questioned.

You agreed.

But, at the same time, you’d seen her in a different light.

She’d always been the setting sun. Something that would go away, no matter how much you begged for its light to hold out a little longer. Something that would display the most beautiful things, showcase art that no other could obtain, then so ruthlessly take it away. No matter how much you reached out for it, it’d never been within your grasp. When you thought of sunsets, you thought of her.

When you saw certain hair ties displayed in shops, you thought of her.

When you lay alone in the middle of the bed, you thought of her— butting her way in, her long legs tangling with your own as she claimed you hogged all of it to keep her close.

When you saw, you thought of her. You saw a lot. You thought a lot.

Shamefully, you thought of her a lot, even after eight years.

At 24, you’re supposed to be better.

Everyone seemed to figure it all out. How to avoid the topic of her. How to move on so quickly. How to avoid talking about the sorcerer from their class, their school, their group that snapped and went on a spree. How to avoid giving updates when the higher-ups are a little desperate for someone to go out and find her, to finally put a stop to her.

Everyone but you.

Your avoidance, your loophole from thinking about her, was to simply diminish her to her. Nothing else. Nothing less, nothing more. Just her. No name. No face. Nothing.

She’d left you. She never said goodbye to you. She told Shoko and Gojo goodbye. Went out and found them. But not you. She didn’t want to see you. She didn’t feel the same as you did. All of the things you reminded yourself to keep you sane, from thinking about her with rose tinted glasses.

It was easier that way. You’d been doing good at it too. No longer your friend. No longer the girl you might’ve felt more for. No longer the strongest. No longer a sorcerer. Just her.

Well, until you received this mission.

The higher-ups had called you to Tokyo and you instantly knew it wouldn’t be anything good. Finding yourself in the middle of a dimly lit room, they offered not any ‘hi’s, ‘hello’s, or ‘good morning’s. They’d opened with, Gojo Satoru is no longer in the country and we have something of great importance to be dealt with.

Promising. Not at all threatening, right?

No way.

If they couldn’t even have Gojo Satoru present in the country for this, it was definitely something they didn’t want her finding out about. Something that she’d definitely hunt you down and kill you over if it was something insanely extreme.

Despite your inner reassurances, you knew it was something you wouldn’t like either.

Still, you couldn’t outright say no. You weren’t as strong, you weren’t as brilliant, or as cunning, or important as Gojo. You were just… you. A girl from a far off village who was lucky to be born like this, to be found when she had. To see what you could see. You’d always been plain.

You were in no place to decline.

What exactly do you want done? You had asked with trepidation, sensing something heavy in the air.

What they said next hadn’t ever crossed your mind.

One of Geto Suguru’s members has been seen scoping out the area where a Special Grade curse has been reported. We’re under the impression that she’ll be going to the area within the next two days to claim it. We’d like for you to take this chance and execute her.

The moment the name left the old man’s mouth, three years of your youth burst through your mind like a raid. Blissful times. Happier times. Before everything. When she used to tuck your hair behind your ear. When her eyes would be bright and jovial as you explained something childish to her. When she would utter your name against your skin and press the most delicate of kisses against you. When Suguru—

Your world crumbled the instant the name filled your mind.

You’d broken your streak. Of not saying her name.

It’s probably why you didn’t hesitate to agree. As her name repeated in your mind— Suguru. Suguru. Suguru. Suguru. All the wonderful and beautiful things that accompanied a name as sweet as hers. Ignoring the fact that you, when the moment came and the day called for it, would never be able to harm her. Much less execute her. You agreed.

They appeared relieved. As they thanked you for your time, for your cooperation. They promised you that you would be doing the world a service.

You were not so convinced as you bowed, then took your leave. Instead, you couldn’t help the burst of unnerving giddiness that waved over you.

It wasn’t long after you got home that you received an email including files upon files of information you’d have to stuff in your mind before going to the location. Long droning essays on the curse residing in the area, the area itself, and the type of person that had been nervously traipsing around a specific building taking notes. It didn’t really interest you, nor did you really take any of it seriously. A single photo of the person staking out the area appeared to be a young man, red cheeks, and wide eyes. He looked no older than 20.

It was well into the night, your fourth cup of some bottle of alcohol that's been sitting on your shelf for years, when you opened a file and saw her.

The first thing that caught your eye was the photo at the top. The picture was shitty. Grainy and taken from a distance, as if the photographer was in the midst of a large crowd, barely tall enough to get something decent. But it was enough to make your body lock up and your eyes to take in every detail of her endlessly.

She was older, much like you, her hair much longer, now adorned in a half bun with a single bang sculpting the right side of her face— much like how it would rest in your teen years. It appeared that she still had her gauges in, possibly a larger size than the last you saw of her. New piercings appeared to adorn her face, just above her eyebrow and on her bottom lip, a single ring on the right. She was just so… her. If it weren’t for the large robes that seemed to swallow her whole, making her appear small and approachable, you would’ve convinced yourself it was still your Suguru.

You read over the information gathered about her carefully. With much more attention than you had given to the special grade and skittish curse user before her. The file was filled to the brim with things she’d been up to for the past eight years—there were gaps here and there about what she’d been doing exactly, but you got the jist that none of it was necessarily good.

Almost immediately after her defection, she’d taken over the Star Religious Group. Something that brought you pause. You’d heard that name uttered here and there when you were younger. Especially from Suguru herself. As she got that hollow look in her eyes, staring distantly, she’d told you that the applause was neverending. When you asked who, she said them. The group. It made you wonder what could possibly possess her to take over the group and create it into— well, more of a cult. The information about it was far and few. Mostly detailed information about it was Suguru’s punishment for those she believed weren’t exactly useful, they most likely ended up dead and disfigured.

It appeared that most of her followers were either men hoping for some type of attention from her, women who were the same and willing to do more, or those who truly believed in whatever deranged thing she was passing around. There was a quite a list of men that had crossed some figurative line and detailed torture they endured because of their crimes in Suguru’s eyes— you didn’t let it sway you as you, wholeheartedly, believed they probably deserved it.

Another section detailed that she had a subgroup called “The Family”.

You were ashamed to acknowledge the heavy feeling in your chest. As you read about the members that were known— a man from Africa, a woman from Hokkaido, a blonde man of unknown origins— two girls. It seemed that this was something that caught the attention of not only you, but the higher-ups too. There wasn’t much information, but they seemed desperate to find some weakness with the woman. These two seemed to be it.

13 years-old, have not attended any schools, unknown birth origins, unknown curse technique. It seemed that Suguru had done good in keeping them secret, despite them being semi-known within the people that mattered.

Your heart beats erratically against your chest, your tongue darting out to moisten your lips. It’d been so long since you saw her. Not even a glimpse at a picture. You wished… Hell fucking no. You’re not doing this again. You’re not falling down this rabbit hole again.

Still, your heart ached. She had time for this family. She could tell Shoko and Gojo goodbye. But she never sought you—

You closed the tab instantly once the thought entered your mind. Downed the rest of your cup and pressed your fingers against your eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. All that time since you saw her. The amount of time since you stuffered all those pictures into the back of your attic, telling yourself you were done. The higher-ups ruin it for a botched execution.

It was in that moment, that you promised to exorcize the curse before she could ever get there.

An easy in and out. A fool proof plan that you drummed up drunk off your ass, and trying not to think about the teenaged you who would scoff at you now. You imagined her, happier and awestruck by a girl with a dazzling smile and heart of gold, standing over you and asking how you could possibly end up like this. When you and that girl of gold had promised an eternity of fighting curses together. She would be disappointed. As you were.

You decided, for the teenage versions of yourselves, you wouldn’t kill her. No, it couldn’t be you. Instead, you’d give her a sign. You’d kill that curse and it’d be a clear cut you’re being watched. She’d take the hint.

There had been a reason Suguru, red faced and teary eyed, had banned you from making plans in high school.

You arrived at the abandoned complex at 7PM.

After a long day of traveling, you were almost emotional to see it. But you knew what it meant as you stepped through the door. Another exhaustive fight that would leave you passed out on the train and the higher-ups giving you a lashing for failing so badly.

Your steps were light as you judged the area. It seemed abandoned and you didn’t see or feel any disturbances. Everything seemed in order. You whistled softly as you walked through the halls, searching each moldy and deteriorated room with the interest of a grandfather. It didn’t appear that there was any curse lingering. You were almost convinced you had the wrong address when you felt it.

It was something you didn’t acknowledge at first. Just as you approached the last step of the 12th floor. You felt this weight lift off your shoulders and you sighed contentedly. In an instant, everything felt okay. Like you weren’t about to have a quarter life crisis once this was done and over with. You pushed some of your hair back and just let your eyes droop as if a soothing lullaby was egging you into slumber. Bliss.

A beat.

Bliss, you realized with a shudder, was the last thing you should be feeling.

You felt a tug behind you. Last second, you whirled around to meet the eyes of the curse.

It was plump and red, an array of eyes staring at you alone. It almost resembled a strawberry as it floated feet in front of you. But its touch was not delicate or sweet, landing a hard ruthless blow in your gut that sent you flying back. Straight through an opposite wall and into one of the many abandoned apartments.

For a moment, all you could do was stare up at the ceiling with your ears ringing and head aching. You asked yourself, what the fuck am I doing? You should’ve told them to fuck off. Told them that you were not going to get yourself mixed up with whatever fucked ass shit Suguru was doing. You were done. You should’ve been more assertive.

But you were a coward.

You cursed to yourself as you dragged a languid hand up to your face. Pulling back to stare at the blood coating your fingers with a heavy sigh. You pushed yourself into a sitting position, swaying in your spot as your head grew dizzy. It didn’t take you long for you to realize your RCT wasn’t working. In fact, you had little to no cursed energy at the moment. An odd sensation of emptiness filled you with anxiety and you were suddenly reminded of what you read right before you saw her picture last night.

Along with the feelings of bliss, this curse can drain cursed energy from the user. Proceed with caution.

Maybe their true plan was to kill you all along. Who would even care?

Shoko could be semi-shocked, maybe. You hadn’t talked to her in years and the shock would primarily be rooted in the ‘wow, I haven’t heard from her in years. That’s awfully sad.’ way. In the best case scenario, she could show off your liver to an awfully curious student who wanted to know what alcoholism does to the body.

Nanami, possibly the only person that you kept contact with (which was only texts on holidays and whenever you had a question about locations), would say it was a shame and move on as if it was a bad game of football he lost a bet on.

Utahime would only cry because death is sad. And she would prattle on about how she knew you and could have possibly done something, if only she had known the job they were sending you on. In true Utahime fashion.

And Gojo.

Well, Satoru would probably roll her eyes and say something along the lines of— Go figure she’d die because of her own ignorance. Then make a poorly timed joke about your demise that would only get protests out of some faux respect for you.

It wasn’t nice. Or entirely comforting. Nor did you bring tears to your eyes. It was just your reality. Something you had accepted the moment you’d walked away from those you’d known.

It was just reality.

The strawberry-like curse was about to break through, with you accepting your death wholeheartedly, the hole in the wall when a loud roar vibrated off the walls to the right of the corridor. Both you and the curse had no time to process anything when a flash of something pounced by. The strawberry-like curse was suddenly out of your view with a loud screech. You could hear it fight against something, making feeble noises as they seemed to struggle against one another, but you couldn’t see anything except for the sudden pink mist filling the air. A last ditch effort at defending itself. But the thing that attacked it didn’t seem to care as it continued to growl.

You dared to inch closer to the hole and peek out.

Over the strawberry-like curse, tearing it to shreds, was a cat-like curse. Big. Much bigger than the other curse and definitely bigger than you. Huge talons coated in purple goop, pointed black ears, pure white coat, with purple and black swirls all around its torso. It looked vicious and you were suddenly worried that this was the true curse Suguru was after. Much better than a horny strawberry curse. Much more powerful too.

“Shame, I really was going to use that.”

It’s been eight years, four months, 16 days, and 30 hours since you last heard her voice. The last you had heard of her was a week before Yaga told you of her defection. She’d shown up at your door, black hair loose from its usual prim and proper updo, she asked if she could come in. You accepted without hesitation. She laid with you silently before she asked a question you thought about often: Do you ever see yourself being something other than a sorcerer? Back then, you hadn’t thought about it before you told her no. You told her that you were happy to continue doing this— it was what you loved. She stared at you long and hard that night. Then uttered that you were right.

The next day, Haibara Yu was killed.

Bitterly, you realized it hadn’t changed at all. Still sweet, still thick like honey, a trap for you to stumble and get stuck in. To cherish until the moment you perished.

You felt sick to your stomach as you refused to look over at her. You hadn’t heard her approach. Didn’t even sense anything, but that definitely had to do with the curse’s mist. She managed to sneak inside and now she was only feet away from you. You could feel her gaze. You had always been able to tell when she was looking, when she was prying open your head and trying to take a peek. It always made you feel hot all over, a tightness in your abdomen and a burn against your cheeks.

Now, it makes you queasy. Makes you sweat and shiver, goosebumps littering your skin.

“You know, people usually say thank you after you save their life.” She continued on as if this wasn’t hard. As if it wasn’t you and it wasn’t her standing in this abandoned building while a curse— her curse— devoured another. “But I suppose you were never one for manners.”

Is your lack of manners all natural or do you have to work extra hard to be like this? Suguru used to tease you after you were particularly difficult on a mission. Bumping hips with you, hand brushing against yours, eyes half crescents as she smiled. Her. Her. Beautiful.

She had been everything.

She’d been the one you sought out when you were much too jumbled for anything or anyone else. Been the first you opened up to, spilling all your secrets and worries into her ear. Been the first to hear it all and to touch you delicately, to embrace you so tenderly that you believed you were everything horrible.

She had been love.

But that was before she became a mass murderer. Before she promised a world without non-sorcerers. Before she had left you in the dust without so much as a glance. Before everything. That was your reality now.

You clenched your jaw, head tilted down as you weighed your options.

The cat curse was in the way of the exit, still devouring the other in a ruthless onset of hunger. You wouldn’t be able to get through it without your cursed energy, which you could only just start to feel slowly returning. She was blocking the hallway that led to the fire escape. Probably a deliberate choice and she probably wanted to attack you with these lack of escape routes she’d given.

The only option was the window behind you.

To jump and free fall from the 12th floor, then book it, hoping to get away fast enough. Your only hope was that you landed and didn’t break anything.

Your foot shifted, getting prepared to book it, when she spoke again and, effectively, stopped you.

“I wasn’t going to come today, but one of my people said they saw you, and…. Well, I’ll admit, I was a tad curious.”

Your ears rang.

She had come… specifically for you? She wasn’t even going to get this shit, but you had been there, and she came?

A part of you dared to grow hopeful. A part of you that you’ve tried to push down and ignore for almost a decade. A part of you that was insane and thought insane things. Dreamt of things that could never be. It was the side that was absolutely obsessed with her. The side that just wanted to consume her whole and for you both to become one. One side that would something wish you were a curse that she could swallow and summon at will. Your mind was soaring with wild things. Crazy things.

You tried to focus on something else. Like the fact that she regarded this as a purely curious endeavor. Curiosity was an interesting choice of word. You could be curious about anything. Like the sun and the moon. Or a bug. This situation felt more like a bug. Like she was holding a magnifying glass and watching your movements, adding pressure to you, seeing what you could handle. Next, she’d hold out the glass to the sun and scorch you alive.

In your state, you’d probably thank her.

You could see her shift in the corner of your eye, she drew closer to you, and you could just barely make out the end of her robes.

“Are you not even going to look at me?” She dared to sound sad. To sound a little teasing.

You were convinced that if you looked at her, you’d be blinded. That you could never possibly look away again. That you’d plead and beg for things she’d never give you.

She sighed something heavy, “You’re angry.”

Angry? You wanted to say, instead clenching your hands at your sides, I’m downright murderous.

You’re angry you’re even here.

You’re angry that the higher-ups believed you could do this.

You’re angry that Gojo didn’t dare to even try.

You’re angry that you can pick out her soft fruity perfume as it fills the air.

You’re angry that your heart still beats wildly at her mere presence.

You’re so fucking angry that she can stand there and talk to you like it was nothing. That it hadn’t been eight years. That you hadn’t been forced to suffer alone without her.

Yeah, you’re angry.

Your eyes snapped away as the cat curse purred, making its way back down the hallway. You took a step back from the hole, fearful it’s pounce on you next. However, it kept walking, until it was by her side. You watched as it rubbed its face against her side, purring and mewling softly as she delicately ran her fingers through its fur. Her hands were bigger than you remember. Her long fingers carded through the fur gently, black painted nails a stark contrast to the white of the beast.

“I’m not going to fight you….” Yet, remained unspoken. It appeared to be completely up to you on whether or not you two would end up in a brawl. “I’m just here for a chat.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You spoke before you could think, before you could stop yourself.

She seemed to pause. Her hand froze momentarily in the fur, before it shakily began once more. “I knew you were angry.”

That only pissed you off more.

“Angry? Of course I’m angry! Here you are, after eight years, just popping in like it’s fucking nothing. Like this isn’t the cruelest thing you’ve ever done.” You retorted, your hands clenched tight at your sides as you deliberately stared at her tabi clad sandal covered feet. You couldn’t look her in the eye. You couldn’t see her face. It’d be over. You couldn’t.

She faltered once against, then seemed to take her chances, taking a step towards you. “I wanted to see you.”

Eight years too late. You thought.

You scoffed, jaw clenched, “Yeah, right, you didn’t want to see me eight years ago, why would you want to see me now?”

“Eight years ago—?”

“You went to everyone that mattered and said goodbye. You explained yourself to them and then you vanished. But there wasn’t a goddamn word for me?” You felt pent up anger and sadness from over the years conjured up once more. Nights you had spent curled up alone in bed after her defection, staring into the darkness, while the endless string of thoughts about your value and worth replayed in your head. It crushed you. The reality of it all. “Me? It told me exactly what I meant to you.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I cared about you much more than you ever cared about me. It was always you and Gojo, I just butt my way in.” You continued in an overflow of thoughts that you never dared to speak aloud. You figured, if this was the last time you saw each other, then you’d lay it all out. “I just wanted you to say something, but it made me open my eyes when you didn’t say a word. I learned my lesson.”

A beat.

“Really?” Her tone is flat, almost sarcastic as she regards you. “And what was that lesson?”

“Don’t assume your place in someone’s life.”

There was a prolonged silence between you both and you thought that she just might walk away. But you were pleasantly surprised when she chuckled. A deep and low sound that echoed off the walls and converged back on you. Goosebumps formed on your arms and there was a distinct shiver down your back.

“You don’t change, do you?” Her voice is thick with amusement and something oddly unidentifiable mixed in there.

You’re unable to answer. Had you really remained the same after all these years?

Suddenly, you’re broken from your thoughts as warm and soft hands slip to either side of your face, pulling your head upwards and you finally make eye contact with her for the first time.

The light brown warm and welcoming, an old home that called to you now as you stared at her with wide eyes. The bags that had tainted her under eye those years ago were non-existent now. Instead, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes adorned her features. You were half tempted to reach out and trace them, take them into your memory.

A sickness fills your gut as you take her in completely.

The blurry picture some informant took didn’t do her justice. It didn’t capture the warmth of her eyes, or the spread of her lips, the charming nature of it all. She looks better, healthier, than she had when you last saw her. Cheeks are full when they used to be sunken, fingers and arms no longer boney as they once were, she filled her clothes now, surely. Your eyes take in the new piercings that litter her face now. Two on her bottom lip, three on both of the upper lobes of her eyes. Her hair was longer and appeared to be silk like, still tied up in a half up bun, it was almost too familiar. The only thing that was different was the sharp smirk on her lips and her clothes.

Heavy robes, almost that of a monk, that seemed to swallow her large frame whole. The only place that seemed to be strained was her upper breasts, cleavage peeking from the fabric. Something that would surely bring shame to other monks, but pleasure to you.

Your little mass murdering ex.

“Ah,” Suguru breathed, eyes brightening considerably when you seemed to completely take her in, “Long time no see.”

You wanted to keel over right there. To fall to the ground and have your soul float upwards into oblivion. You might just die happy.

“....Suguru…” Your hand shakily wraps around her wrist, clutching onto her tightly.

Her eyes are almost manic, staring down at you as her fingers gently stroke against your cheek. “You think I didn’t see you because I didn’t care about you? You’re an idiot.” Her words are slow and deliberate, a tone that you would use on a petulant child. The tips of her nails dug into your cheeks as she squeezed them together, jerking your forward. You’re so close that you feel her hot breath fan across your skin. So close you could smell the faint scent of the mints she’d pop whenever she’d absorb a curse. It was dangerous to be so close, to be so vulnerable and under her touch. But you couldn’t pull away now, not waiting all this time just to see her. “I did everything I did because I do care about you.”

Your mind draws blank as your hold on her slackens, “You do…?” You whisper, words jumbled by the press of your cheeks.

Her eyes bounce from your own to your puckered lips, something dark residing deep within her soft hued irises. “You calling me a liar?” She loomed over you now, your back straining to keep her in your line of sight.

“I don’t know you anymore, Suguru— it’s been eight years. You’ve killed people, innocent people.” You attempt to keep your voice concise and level. To be the voice of reason in this mind numbing situation. But you can tell by her expression that you didn’t help.

She looks unimpressed, maybe even disgusted, by your words. “Innocent? They’re all as innocent as the serpent tempting Eve.” She drew you even closer, your breasts pressing against her own, the soft flesh smashed between the both of you. Her manic expression only grows more feral as she stares down at you. “They all have blood on their hands and they’re allowed to walk around without knowing what they’ve done. The amount of sorcerers that’ll die just for them to remain ignorant. Never having to know the kids, the people, that their emotions have killed. Those monkeys—”

In an instant, you were glaring up at her, “I didn’t come here to talk about your insane fucking ideals, Suguru! Now, either talk like a normal sane person, or this is done.”

She faltered.

She had the gall to look caught off guard, before masking her expression with a kind grin. She pulled away from you, her nails leaving deep red crescents in your skin. It almost burned, but your heart beating against your ears (and between your legs), distracted you from the gentle pain.

Suguru tucked her hands into her sleeves, her eyes closing as she bowed respectfully. “I apologize. I can get rather carried away with my thoughts.” The sudden shift in tone and the air was almost whiplash. It was crazy to see how easily she could go from crazed excited rage to this respectable monk offering her sincere apologies. It made your head spin. “I don’t mean to anger you.”

You eyed her for a long moment. Watched the way she kept her position. She didn’t falter or twitch. Just remained bowed.

“Why are we here?”

“I assumed you were sent here to execute me.”

With the nail hit on the head, you tensed.

This only dragged a scoff from her, a twinge of bitter amusement there. “Rather foolish on their part— thinking you of all people would kill me.”

It felt like a jab on your abilities. It was definitely a jab on your abilities.

“I could.” You childishly retort.

Suguru’s pierced brow raises, a twinkle in her eye that you could identify from your teenage years, “You could? Really?” She repeated, and it sounded terribly incredulous. “You’ve just had your cursed technique— which you could barely do anything with the last time we saw each other, by the way— leached away by a curse. You’re horribly banged up. I don’t think you could throw a straight punch even if you wanted.”

“I could kill you, if I really wanted— but I don’t do shit just because someone says so.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Suguru laughed.

She laughed and laughed. She laughed loudly. Hard enough that her head was thrown back, eyes closed. Her chest heaved as her arms wrapped around her midriff. The sound was wheezy and sharp, would’ve been mocking if it weren’t for the familiarity of it.

A sound that you hadn’t realized you missed until this very moment.

It was a heavy realization. Just how much you missed Suguru.

The tiniest of things that you had taken for granted as a child. Her laughs, her smiles, the little twitch in her hands whenever she wanted to do something, but hesitated. It made you think about all the things you had missed that year. The frowns and the distance in her eyes— the amount of times you had asked what’s wrong and let her slip by with a simple nothing too important. There were many things you should’ve done in order to hold onto and cherish those little things you once loved dearly.

You resisted the overwhelming urge to cry as you clenched your jaw, swallowing down any of the tears. You wouldn’t do this. Not here. Not in front of her.

“You really haven’t changed,” Suguru said breathlessly, calming down from her laughing fit to address you once again. “It warms my heart— to see you untouched by time.”

Untouched.

Untouched.

Untouched?

You were, arguably, one of the most touched people by the slut of time. You had suffered and agonized every day for years. To say you were unchanged, untouched, it was almost like her spitting in your face.

“Then you don’t know me.” You flatly reply.

Her amused expression falters. “Hm?”

“These have been the worst eight years of my life. The amount of shit I’ve been through to even be talking to you now— it’s been insufferable. I have changed. A lot. I have changed in ways that I didn’t even know were possible and it’s been the worst experience.” There was a spark of rage in you as you reached out and pushed her back. She didn’t move to stop you, but she didn’t even stumble at your ‘attack’. She just stared and stared. “Just because you couldn’t, what— stop being angry? News flash, Suguru, we’re all pissed off at the world, but we can’t do anything about it!”

“You could,” Suguru said quietly after a moment’s pause, “Any of us could do something about it. There’s just no opportunity from that place. They restrict you, put you in a box.”

If anyone hadn’t changed, it was Suguru. Who appeared and sounded like she was just as self assured as she was eight years ago.

Instead of arguing over something you know neither of you would budge on, you turned towards the stairs.

Your swift exit would be the best option. There was nothing to be said, nothing to be passed between the both of you that would change the fact that Suguru was sentenced to death— and you were left behind. The realization made you sigh softly through your nose, dragging your feet as you walked away. She made no move to stop you, not even asking what you were doing, it seemed you both agreed—

“I didn’t seek you out because I knew you couldn’t handle it.”

Her words made you pause once again.

You faltered in your step and your eyes were unwavering as they peeked at her from over your shoulder. Her head was held high, face unmoved, but her eyes… her eyes carried something heavier.

“Huh..?” You uttered.

Suguru took a deep breath, “I knew that if I told you goodbye, you would’ve done something stupid, like try to convince me to come back or say that it was a mistake. O-Or you would’ve thought that you could’ve done something to stop me.” I still thought that. I still believe that. I still imagine myself finding you and dragging your stubborn ass back. “I didn’t say goodbye because I thought…. Well, I thought it was a mercy.”

“A mercy?” You frown heavily at her, “A mercy from what?”

“From heartbreak.”

There was a moment of silence between you two that you dragged on for three minutes.

A mercy from heartbreak.

It almost made you laugh. How absurd the notion was— that her not speaking a word to you somehow spared you from any pain. That you wouldn’t feel the effects of her sudden disappearance just because she didn’t speak to you. It was an optimistic view on it. It was too hopeful. It was selfish.

So you just sharply laughed.

The sound was so sudden that you were almost tempted to jump. As Suguru does, blinking at you to stare at you with vague curiosity. You hadn't expected it yourself. It wasn’t a planned action, nor did you have any opportunity to stop yourself. It just happened. As abruptly and sudden as this situation.

Suguru’s thin brow raised, “What’s so funny?”

“You,” Was the immediate reply as you recovered, taking deep breaths, “Just…. A mercy. You’ve always been so interesting, Suguru. Your concept of sparing me from all those nasty feelings is so..”

“So what?” Suguru’s voice is flat as she regards you, seemingly unamused by this sudden shift in mood from you.

You shoot her a look, “Naive.”

“Naive?”

“Terribly. The fact that you genuinely believe I would’ve rather not heard from you at all to save myself the heartbreak is naive, Suguru.”

Her nose scrunched. “I was sparing you—“

You scoffed, “Sparing me? What am I, some-some damsel in need of saving?”

“A conversation wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“All I wanted was you to say goodbye.”

“You would’ve been devastated—“

“I was devastated when you didn’t even see me!” You reached out and slapped her shoulder. She remained unmoved. Not surprising given her wide stature and statue-like physique. “Do you know what it was like, waiting for you to stumble around and tell me anything? To hear from Gojo or Shoko that you saw them but I wasn’t even worth it? I waited weeks— months for anything. I would’ve taken a card saying anything. Hell, you could’ve been like, surprise! I killed those people. See you never xoxo! And I would’ve taken it. I would’ve sucked it up and swallowed my pride. But you didn’t say a word, Suguru. Not a single thing. That’s what devastated me.”

Suguru blinked slowly, staring at you from over nose as she seemed to blankly contemplate her next words. “A conversation wouldn’t have changed my decision.” She repeated, except it was more firm.

You take in a shaky breath, “I know that.”

“No, you don’t. I can see that you don’t.” Suddenly, Suguru’s hand raised, hesitating, before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I honestly didn’t haven’t anything right to say to you. Anything that came to mind, it just… it wasn’t right. I wanted it to be right with you.”

You tried to ignore the erratic beat of your heart and the heat rising to your cheeks as you stared up at her. “I would’ve taken anything.”

“You deserved more than some empty words I would’ve given. you then.”

A part of you truly did wonder what she could have told you then to comfort you. A part of you knew that you probably would’ve tried to convince her to come with you. To try and make amends with a system she despised. Or maybe it would’ve been carnage and your rage would’ve gotten in the way. Maybe it was best that you two hadn’t talked then.

Still, that teen in you had wished desperately for her one last time.

“My conversation with Satoru… she told me to stay away from you,” Suguru continued when you didn’t speak, “She said that one of us would probably do something incredibly dumb.”

Your eyebrows shot upwards, “Like what?”

Suguru rolled her shoulder, a distant look in her eyes, “I don’t know. Something dumb.”

“We were never the smartest together.”

“I suppose.”

The conversation waned and you suddenly noticed that Suguru’s curse was gone along with the strawberry. Probably both fell away into the recesses of whatever deep dark pit they were all nestled in. Waiting to be coaxed out, waiting to obey and impress their master by any means necessary.

It almost reminded you of high school.

Your desperate attempts at catching her eye. Gaining attention from the angelic girl that sat two seats over. Pathetic battles you placed yourself smack dab in the middle to show off and impress her with your silly fighting style. You were so painfully obvious and embarrassing back then. As if you were one of her curses, bound and promised to serve her. Fight for her, live for her, breathe for her. A loyal dog. Gojo had called you that once.

Shamefully, you acknowledged that same sense of loyalty lingered in the air now.

Why else would you drag yourself to this place? Killing a curse before she could get it just to send a message? Why would you want to warn the psycho killer that inhabited the body of your first…something eight years after she completely abandoned you?

Loyalty and need.

Suguru, larger than life, had you even after all these years.

Eight years wasn’t nearly enough time to lay her memory to rest.

“I’m not going to fight you,” Suguru spoke once the silence dragged on for almost too long. Her hands were tucked into her large sleeves, a peaceful expression on her face with something prowling in the darkness of her eyes. “You can return and tell them I caught you off guard while you were attacking the curse. That I got the upper hand. It’s the easiest way to explain why we’ll depart largely unscathed.”

You tried to ignore the way her eyes trailed up and down your body, taking in the wounds scattering your skin. Instead, paying more attention to her words. Which were more kind than you expected.

“I’m sure they’ll ask you questions. Just act dumb, you were always good at that when we were in trouble.” Then she turned towards the stairs.

She was walking away from you again.

Her back turned. Long black tresses swaying across her back. Shoulders tight and straight. Respectable.

She was walking away from you again.

Suguru! You had called out softly that day. Much younger and much dumber than you were now. Her back had faced you then. You thought nothing of it. Despite how much you longed to stare at her face, you hadn’t doubted you’d see it again. I didn’t even hear you leave. Will I see you later?

Suguru had released something soft then, peeking over her shoulder at you, Later.

She had walked away from you.

She never came back.

She was walking away from you.

There was no coming back.

You just needed a moment longer. Just a little more time to drag out the various things you’d imagined in the eight years she’d been absent. To satisfy some sick twisted part of you that longed, that yearned, that held onto her memories so dearly. The delusional part of you that believed things could be the same in some distant universe.

She was walking away.

She’s not going to come back. She wasn’t even giving the illusion that you both would see each other again.

She was walking away.

What are you going to do? You can’t let her go. Not after you’d gotten a taste of the girls you once were. Not that you’d felt her and—

She’s walking away!!!

“They know about those kids.”

You’re not entirely sure why you said that specifically. Probably something to do with the fact that was the original warning you wanted to convey with this whole thing. It just kinda came out. There was no putting it back in.

However, watching Suguru’s back stiffen, rigid and almost unnatural, as she paused in her steps, you realized you wanted to put it back in.

“Excuse me?” Her voice was different. Flat and unwelcoming, hard and unforgiving. She moved her head to regard you with the words you’d just spoken. They were darker than before. Guarded.

You keep your expression carefully open, trying to convey that you weren’t threatening her, “There’s moles in your congregation. They’re watching you and your family. They’re trying to find your weakness and they’ve started to set their eyes on those girls.” You pushed out in one breath.

Suguru pauses for a long moment, jaw tweaking and lips pressed thinly, “And I assume you saw what they had?” Her tone was still cold, still stiff.

You nod, “Yes. It’s very small, very limited. But they have some type of knowledge.”

Suguru faced away once again, her arms at her side and hands clenching. “Goddammit.” She hissed under her breath.

“I just wanted to give you that, uh, warning, so…” You cleared your throat, awkwardly swaying your arm. “Be careful.”

Suguru didn’t look amused or entirely receptive to your words. She suddenly turned around and glared at you. “How much do they know?” She sounded a bit frantic under the firmness of her tone.

“Just that they’re young. That you’ve had them around for a while. But they don’t know their technique or really anything about them.”

“It’s still too much. They know too much.”

“I’m sorry.” You uttered, as if you were the one that had caused all of this.

Suguru raised an eyebrow, “For what?”

There were a lot of things. Many things that you felt responsible for. Primarily—

“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to stop it.”

Suguru’s complexion paled and she looked unbearably uncomfortable. “Stop what?”

“I never…There must’ve been something I could’ve done for you.”

Her expression grew firm and she released a heavy sigh. “I already told you, there isn’t anything that could’ve—”

“Deterred you from your path, I know. But—” Suguru let out an unbearable noise as if you were causing her great pain. Your own expression tightened up woefully. “But I still wished you were there. That-That you stayed and I could help.”

“You realize that I would’ve been miserable, right?”

“Was I really that bad at helping you?”

“No, I just…. No, you were the only thing keeping there until….”

Until it wasn’t enough. It lingered in the air and, for once, you realized that your apology was warranted. That your teenage self had tried to push down the despair with smiles and jokes. By lingering in her space, doing everything with her. Try to drag her from the recess of her mind.

It wasn’t helpful. Not when it really mattered. Not when it should’ve.

You weren’t there when she was hurt. You weren’t there when she was spiraling. And you were basically nonexistent.

“You and Satoru— you’ve always had your complexes. Whether you realize it or not.” Suguru continues on, eyes unwavering on your face. You’re suddenly hyper aware of the space and distance between you. Large and apparent. An obvious fissure separating you both from one another. “You wanted to save me. You still do. But you can’t.”

"Is it so bad that I just wanted you next to me?" You asked desperately, subconsciously inching forward.

"No, but it's bad that you still do." Suguru said honestly, a terrible thing flashing across her expression that was so vulnerable and so raw. It reminded you of days kinder and younger than you both now.

You scoff in reply, shaking your head and ignoring the flare of heat that covers your cheeks.

"You are loyal to a fault." She continues, eyeing you tenderly as she seemingly accepts her twisted perception in your life. "But it's misplaced. You have to accept that. I'm not coming back."

Your chest aches and your hands clench at your sides, nails creating crescents in your palms as you close your eyes. "Suguru—"

Suddenly, your hands are captured in a large embrace. Long fingers wrapped around your considerably smaller ones. Warm and tender, they had always been warmer than your hands. As if she were the sun and your the cold, desolate moon. Her fingers gently pried the unbearable grip you had on yourself and instead caressed her soft tips against the crescents marring the butt of your palms now.

You dared to drag your eyes upwards once again and meet her eyes. Her gaze is soft, unrelenting, and unbearably kind. Honey glazed eyes staring into your endless pits. Much too bright for the criminal. Something stares back at you. A pleading glint in there that you recognize from a days long passed. A call for the piece of you still holding on to a memory of her.

How am I, a lowly idiot, supposed to accept that you, an angelic figure, left me behind? When you look at me like that? You think, heart aching as you clasp onto her hands.

There's something twitching on your face and you're mortified to find it's a smile.

Suguru lets out a guttural sound, almost as if she'd been punched. "I can't do this." She utters between you both, but it's more directed to herself. Her eyes frantically skimming over your every feature. She seemingly absorbed something she found in your eyes. She spoke louder, "This is driving me crazy."

You blink lazily, "Huh?"

You have to tilt your head upwards to keep your gaze on her wavering face, crumbled and desperate. Her grip on your hands tightens as her tongue darts out to wet her plump lips. "I came here as a last send off to you."

Foolishly, you realize, you came for the same, "Me too."

"Would it be so wrong to..." You're suddenly jerked forward, pressed against her as the hunger in her eyes grows. One hand slides from your own and presses against your cheek, warm and welcoming. "Would it be bad for one last time?"

"No." Is your immediate answer.

"No, no, it wouldn't." She mutters, leaning forward, "I'm terribly greedy."

"You deserve to be."

Suguru lets out a breathless sound as both your lips meet.

It makes so much sense for Suguru to kiss the way she does— eager, but tender, excited. but careful. The soft press doesn't even attempt to hide how much she truly wanted this.

A feeling blossoms throughout your body as you capture her lips into your memory once again. Fuller and more experienced than those years ago, she moves gently as if to take this in carefully. Both of you slipping into one another as if two puzzle pieces newly found and a perfect match.

Suguru's kisses were much like her personality— rumbunctious, sweet, and calm. She kisses like she was breathing life into you. Like she was the representation of everything beautiful and good. All of it makes you snake your arms around her shoulders, around her neck, and pull her closer. Please, please, don't go away now. Don't leave me like this. You silently pleaded.

She obliged, her own hands snaking down your waist and resting over your tender flesh, fingers digging into your sides. Pressing you closer against her own body.

Suguru's lips are wet, and plump, and sweet, and you might just die right there. You were close enough that you could smell the sweet perfume clinging to her clothes much like you were.

Pressed against her, her fingers grabbing at you, lips warm and parting with wet clicks, heavy breaths in between. Her eyes watch you from heavy lids, a slight red hue brushed over her cheeks and bridge of her nose. It was like a desperate pull to continue, to not part until it was absolutely necessary.

There's something terribly serious and hungry in Suguru's gaze that makes your heart beat erratically and a ball in your gut tighten. Her lips twitched upwards. Then, she was pressing a wet kiss against your neck, pulling back only the slightest to speak,

"You're so beautiful." Another kiss, then nip.

You straighten, eyes falling closed as you release a small noise. A tingling wave of pleasure shot down your spine and into that needy place between your legs. An aching feeling filled with desperation making you reach out and twist your hands into her silk hair. Tugging as she needily licked and nipped at the pulse beating against her tongue.

You tried to remain calm. Tried focusing on the hot metal that was wrapped around her bottom lip. The way it had softly clicked against your teeth as she hungrily chased after your lips. Or the way they pressed against your skin now, smooth and a stark contrast to the mess that was Suguru's movements.

She trailed her lips from your collarbone, up, up, and up to your jaw where she nips it, running a soothing kiss against it once she was done. The noises that left you were embarrassing, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care much as she moved back to bring her lips against your own. Soft and tender. Speaking more than she could possibly convey with words.

Suddenly, you push forward, absorbing Suguru's shocked whimper with your erratic and feverish lips. The woman was clearly caught off guard by your sudden eagerness, but gave no complaint as you pushed her towards the floor. You possessively grab onto her thigh, the fabric of her robes pooling at the junction of her thigh and revealing the skin under it. Soft and warm, you squeeze and bring it to wrap around your waist as you lean over her. Her hands pressed against your cheeks and opened her mouth to allow you to desperately lap at the warmth. Frantic hands moving to gently open up her robes and expose her to you and you alone.

Your fingers reached between the heavy pooled fabric, basking in the way Suguru gasps against your lips at your touch. You lower and lower and—

The fabric is like silk.

Your eyes open, pulling away with a loud smack, you stare dumbfounded at the sight under you.

Suguru, whether specifically for this or just a daily occurrence (something that made you dizzy, wore a pink-ish purple set. Elaborate bra that was sheer, see through and proudly displaying her large breasts to you adorning two distinctly new piercings on each nipple. Lower, she wore stockings and a garter, wrapped around her middle thigh that was almost swallowed whole by the fat. The stockings made your brain fuzzy as you ran the tip of your finger against it. Electricity shooting all over your body as you dragged and dragged.

Her panties made your brain short circuit completely.

They were completely see through. They left nothing to the imagination as slick seemed to collect into the fabric, vaguely making out the way her clit jumped and pulsed with her pants. You resisted the urge to cry as you spotted the Christina piercing resting just above her hood. Glittering along with her cunt, it presented itself like a beautiful jewel for a king— or, more appropriately a queen.

Awestruck, you reached out and ran your finger over her lips, listening to her whimper and watching as she clenched around nothing.

“You’re more gorgeous than I remember.” You mutter, tilting your head as you stroke her once again.

Suguru lets out a breathless laugh, eyebrows furrowed, “You callin’ me ugly, princess?” She whispered, sounding equally as teasing as she was drunk on whatever chemicals were running through her body now.

You snap your eyes to her, tense as you pause in your menstruation, “No, you’ve always been beautiful to me, Suguru— I-I just… You’re so…” Gorgeous? Amazing? Breathtaking? Show-stopping? There were too many words you could use to describe her now. Too many things running through your tiny mind in that moment to truly grasp one.

Suguru’s lips were upturned, “So…?”

You were much too distracted to care about continuing your previous statement. “I want to… Fuck—“ You jerked forward, feeling lightheaded as you licked your lips. “I really, really want to touch you.”

“What are you waiting for?”

You didn’t wait for much more before you were kissing her swollen lips again. Your arm stretched to pushed past her panties and to greedily press against her.

Eagerness overtakes you as you run your pointer and middle finger through her lips, grazing her hole, then bringing the slick back to her clit to roll a lazy circle over it— Suguru gasps softly. Lips parted and face scrunched as you press. You watch in awe as she closes her eyes, tilting her head back as your movements grow precise and smooth.

You were convinced you were touching a piece of heaven. Her cunt was as soft and delicate as the rest of her. The wetness collected their almost made it silk-like. A gentle place that you tainted by brushing her hole and grinding the butt of your palm against her aching clit.

"God, just—" Suguru growled, jaw clenched as you tease her hole again with shaking fingers. "I swear, if you don't just put them in m— ngh!"

Your two fingers pushed in and Suguru grinds against your palm as she moans. A prominent blush now dusting her cheeks. Almost like she was embarrassed.

"You're so sensitive," you say, breathless, "are you embarrassed, Suguru?"

Suguru manages to conjure up an annoyed look, that make you grin in response. So you're a bit mean, that wasn't anything new. But it felt so refreshing in this setting. The fact that she was under you now and looking so... so her. It made you dizzy and reminiscent.

"You know you're unfairly gorgeous." You start to gently thrust your fingers, listening to the squelch and feeling her tighten around you with a pant. "Even your pussy is gorgeous."

Suguru lets out something akin to a laugh, but is quickly masked by the breathless sigh she releases. "Are you going to talk all night or fuck me?"

You try to keep your head on straight as you smirk down at her. "I just want to take my time."

Suguru huffs, but continues to roll her hips to meet with your hand. It's almost too much. The way she squeezes around you and sucks you closer. The way she whimpers and moans, yet tries to keep that serious mask over her face. It all drives you insane. You wanted nothing more than to watch her come undone under you.

Much to both of your disappointment, you pull away from her.

"Don't tease me— c'mon." Suguru paws at your shirt (now rumpled and unbuttoned), whiny and desperate as she stares up at you. "We've waited so long."

Your heart almost shatters, swallowing a thick lump that forms in your throat— you didn't want to think about any of that. Any of the bad things that happened between now and then.

With a hazy mind, you tug Suguru's panties off, throwing them in an unknown direction. Your hands rest against her open thighs, basking in the way she drips onto the robes below her, glittering under the soft light leaking from the window down the hall.

"Well," Suguru starts, a grin on her lips, "go on."

Like all those years ago, you don't hesitate to obey her command.

You lean down and place a kiss just above the hood of her clit. Closing your eyes as she lets out a gentle noise, her fingers finding home in your hair and clenching. Then, you lick a stripe from her hole up to her clit, wrapping your lips around the enlarged bud.

"Oh!" Her tone falters into what sounds like a mewl.

You suck and nip, coarse tongue swirling against the aching twitching bundle of nerves. Slipping two fingers into your hole, you try to focus on the way she writhes and presses your head closer.

A hoarse moan bounces off the wall as Suguru's wall clench more erratically against your fingers. Closer and closer. You curl them upwards—

"I've missed you. I've missed you so damn bad." The curse user babbles, drunk off the feeling coursing throughout her body from that spot of plushy flesh your petting. Chasing after the nearing edge that made her tingle and whimper. "Never want to leave you— never want to miss you again."

You draw in a breath as you reach down and start to finger yourself as you pick up the pace with Suguru.

You ignore the buildup in your eyes, the undeniable build up of pent up emotions almost taking over. You clench your eyes closed, trying to not think of it all. Of how badly you had missed her— missed this. Your mind repeating the lonely nights where you had only ever wanted her beside you. The days that you wished it was instead you running amuck, leaving death in your wake, and her in Tokyo. Enjoying a cushy job with people who actually love her.

Maybe that was more tolerable than the truth.

Your mind was filled with her. Your senses, all of it— Suguru. Suguru. Suguru. It wasn't possible to think or feel anything that wasn't her.

Please, please, please, Suguru pleads from her place. Sobbing as she tugs your hair, grinding against your mouth.

Her thighs are glistening with her own juices and your spit. Covering your own face and skin as well as you desperately swirl your tongue against her as if it was singlehandedly keeping you alive. You lick a firm stripe across Suguru one more, making her cry out and arch her back. You feel yourself grow closer as she babbles on about how good you are and how much she's missed you.

"You're all I think about," she gasps and cries, "all I ever needed."

As you clenched around yourself, you moan around her. Suguru sharply gasps, then, suddenly, her walls are pulsing around your fingers and her clit is spasming against your tongue. You watch from your place as her face scrunches up with pure bliss, lips parted to release the prettiest sounds you've ever heard, faint blush dusting across her entire body.

Your close behind with your own earth shattering, white noise inducing orgasm. Your grip on her unrelenting and surely to leave some type of mark to remind her of you later.

When you slowly come down, you realize that Suguru has pulled you down to lay on top of her robe with her. Staring at you hazily, swollen glistening lips, and that beautiful glow on her face.

"You're crying," Suguru whispers, reaching up to brush away the salty tears with the pads of her thumbs. "Was it too much?"

You're not entirely sure exactly what it was. An assortment of things. Things that made your chest ache and the love you felt almost unbearable. How were you meant to tell someone you had just ate out, that was laying next to you, wiping away your tears, that you missed them? You missed her, but she wasn't even really gone yet.

"I don't...I don't want to lose you again, Suguru." You admitted in a breathless whisper, eyes unwavering as you stared at her sad expression— both of you knowing what would happen. "Please."

"I can't come back." She stated, shaking her head. "Not after everything. No one would want me back."

"I want you back— we want you back."

"Not the people that matter."

You couldn't deny the horrible pang that spread throughout your chest and into your bottomless stomach. Not the people that mattered. Not you. Never you. You weren't enough—

"Hey," Suguru's hold on your face was firm and she brought you back from your mind. "Even if I wanted to come back, the higher-ups wouldn't ever joke about it. I'd be executed. Like you're supposed to be doing."

You sniffle, "Whatever, who cares what they think, anyway?"

There was a prolonged silence as you both just laid with one another. Staring at the crumbling ceiling above you with contemplative frustration. She was right, the higher-ups wouldn't even think about it before ordering her execution to proceed. Then you'd have the guilt of her death weighing you down.

Maybe she was better off far away from you. Far away from the world she hated so badly. Happier in her own world, with the family she created. Two little girls and three randoms that somehow found their way in her inner circle. You wished you couldn't be jealous. Detest them for so easily staying in her life. But you were selfish. You were mean.

There was a reason Suguru left you behind, this you were sure of.

"I would've told you that I loved you."

You're broken from your thoughts when Suguru speaks. You snap your attention to her and find that she's got her attention solely on the ceiling above. A distant look in her eyes and a careful blankness to it all that makes you pause.

"Huh?" You hum back.

She moves her head to look at you, honestly and tenderly. "If I saw you when I left, I would've told you that I loved you. That's why I couldn't keep you around. I couldn't confine you to a cage, constantly looking over your shoulder because of me."

You sniffle, nodding. Much like you not begging for her to come back with you, she wouldn't beg for you to leave with her. "I understand."

Suguru stares for a moment longer before she's suddenly shoving your shoulder, sitting up. "You're disgusting, by the way. Fucking me on the floor of a nasty abandoned apartment building like some feral animal." She looked irritated, but you could hear the teasing in her tone and the slight twitch of her lips.

You push yourself to sit up, watching as she grabs her panties from a nearby pile, disgust on her features. "You weren't exactly complaining, if I recall correctly." You conjure up the energy to tease back.

Suguru's face screws up, then she throws her panties at you, grumbling as you snort in return. "Eight years and you act like a hormonal teen at the sight of me."

"I have my weaknesses."

"I'm a weakness?"

Suguru was joking but your face set and you nodded. "My one and only."

Her expression faltered. Suddenly somber as she extended a hand to you, pulling you up easily. "Not good to reveal your hand to the enemy, L/n." She uttered.

You raise an eyebrow, pressed against her front. "You're the enemy?"

Suguru snorted softly, pressing a kiss against your cheek. "Always have been. Now, let me get dressed." She shooed you off her robes.

You watch her with dying words on your lips. Instead, you just chose to cherish the moment for as long as you can.

"I heard you've had an interesting few weeks."

It was barely a day after you got home and submitted your report that you were confronted in your office in Kyoto.

She appeared in a flash, as she always had. A blur of white and black, an overwhelming stench of some cologne that she was either gifted or pulled off a shelf. Expensive. As always.

You jump. Eyes wide as you're met with her for the first time in three years. It almost makes you dizzy. Almost makes you mournful for what once was.

It's been years since you last saw Gojo Satoru. She was different, but you could pick apart exactly was the same. Taller, an array of piercings on both ears, hair stuck up in a mess of white tendrils defying gravity as the bandages wrapped around her eyes. Yet she still had that arrogant posture. That hip pop that always accompanied her. Arrogant.

But there were pieces of things familiar. A part of her was still that 17-year-old, standing in the doorway of your dorm, begging for answers about her best friend's defection. You could tell she was still in there. Part of her reaching out, childishly crying, pleading for something long gone by. You always knew she lingered.

You drag your eyes from her towards the pile of documents waiting for your attention on the desk. Something that you were just about to get to until the woman rudely interrupted.

"It's rude to burst into someone's office without calling first." You respond flatly.

Gojo didn't crack a smile, only kept her stance in the middle of the room, "I assume you didn't kill her. Obviously, she would've fought back. You'd be dead." She rambled to herself.

You huff, rubbing your forehead as you fall back into your chair, "Thanks."

"I thought you would've called me if you were ever assigned something like that. But I suppose you've never been the smartest."

"Like I have your number saved anymore?"

"Again, not the smartest."

You clench your jaw, her arrogant tone grating against the wrong gears within you. Gojo had always been too blunt, too blasé for your taste. Even as teens she had watched you from an upturned nose, scornful eyes scrutinizing your every move. It took you a long time before you ever went around her, let along considered her a friend. Her attitude and general disregard for most people was offputting.

You suppose that's something that happens when everyone treats you like a God.

Gojo falls into the chair across from you, long lanky leg crossed over the other, elbow rested on the back. If it weren't for the painfully straight line of her lips, you would've assumed she was at ease. But you knew better.

"I don't understand why they picked you of all people for executing her." The snark in her voice wasn't welcomed.

You draw in a deep breath, you just needed a bit of patience, "I'm sure you would've jumped at the opportunity if you were here."

"Mm, not really." Gojo tilts her head back and you can tell she's scrutinizing you from over her nose. "But, by the sound of things, you were the one jumping at the chance."

You tense and your fingers drum away on your desk top. An assortment of thoughts flush through your mind. Primarily, the things that you and Suguru had done before parting ways.

Hey! Suguru had called as you walked down the stairs, fingers found home around your arm and, effectively, made you stop to turn back. If you're ever in a bind and need me— or you realize what I did— there will always be a home for you with me. With my family.

You had faltered, eyes wide, before clearing your throat and offering a nod. I'll be sure to remember that. You had turned away and took a few more steps before looking back up at her with a small smile. You're not my enemy, Suguru. That's something I always knew.

You didn't linger on the shock that had overtook her face. Instead, leaving while you still could.

"You said in your report that you didn't see her nor did you sense any signs that she had ever been there." Gojo continues on, oblivious to the inner battle you're facing.

You lean back in your chair, sighing in vague annoyance. "Yes, I did."

"You're a liar."

The lack of hesitation and bluntness of the statement catches you off guard. Your eyes widen and you stiffen, staring at her blank disposition with confusion. Gojo was so unlike herself in this moment. So serious. So final.

It brought you great unease.

Gojo leans forward in her seat, grabbing a mini calendar from your desk to fiddle with it. "Want to know how I know?" You can't see her eyes but you can tell she looks to you for a genuine answer. You only stare back silently in return. "Her residuals are everywhere in that place. They're all twisted with your residuals. Like you were mingling."

You frown, that could easily be explained away, "Well—"

"You're covered in her." And this time, you knew that she was staring right at you.

You stare back blankly this time. Unable to find something smart or notable that could possibly explain what her Six Eyes are seeing. It was pointless. A futile thing that would only make her more frustrated than she seemingly already was.

So, you offered her the only thing you were sure of, your silence.

Gojo clenches her jaw, hunching over in her seat. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"How long have you been seeing her? Was this just a perfect chance for you both to explain away any residuals?" She sounded heated, tense and unnatural.

You always wished she would be her annoying regular self.

"Gojo, I don't know who you think you are, but it's been three years—"

"You're the one who cut us all off!" Gojo stood, pointing a long and accusatory finger at you. You only recall the few times she's ever been truly angry. A ball of rage that's been contained for much too long. Snapping into two pieces that overflowed with a rage of someone much younger. "You're the one who-who pulled away and then got angry because I was around! Then you up and vanished without a word to anyone. Fucked off to Kyoto, like what the hell even is this shit?"

You watch as she gestures wildly around the office with disgust and a loud scoff. A bitter part of you was almost happy to see the anger rolling off of her in waves. Another part of you couldn't imagine Gojo Satoru being this upset over you of all people. This had to be something else. She was mad—

Geto Suguru.

"I called Nanami—"

Gojo whirled around on you, "Not me! You didn't call me! You just left without a word and then I had to hear from Nanami about it like it was nothing."

"I didn't think you'd even want to talk to me with how things were left, Gojo! Can you blame me for just wanting to get away from that place?"

"Yes, I can! I most definitely can!"

You scoff, shaking your head as a familiar anger washed over you. "God, you're such a child."

"And, what, you've been running around behind the higher-ups backs, seeing Suguru all these years? Is that why you ran off? Because you thought I'd see her all over you and tell on you like some kid? Is that it? Is that why you left?"

Her incessant questions were driving you crazy. Alongside the misplaced anger, you were bound to throw something back at her. It was deserved. It was warranted.

"Satoru, you are so insufferable! I rushed off because I hated that school. I hated that I had to walk around and see Suguru but not actually see her! Not to mention you were the world's biggest bitch for a year after that! You acted like I was the goddamn bane of your existence and you wouldn't leave me alone!" You stood and matched her level. There was surely someone that could hear you two duking it out now. Laying things out for one another and, hopefully, leave each other for more years to come. "And, no, I hadn't seen Suguru for eight years before she showed up at that goddamn apartment complex! I was living a peaceful and non-annoying life until three days ago!"

There was a pause between you both.

You taking deep breaths as Gojo stands in the middle of your office awkwardly, stiffly. She almost looked like one of the students after you tried to deal out a punishment for whatever foolish thing they've done. The thought alone made you take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose.

You're not entirely sure what to say to her now. Without the awkward air only growing—

"You were my friend. And you left."

You were all too aware how young Gojo suddenly sounded. Tender and all too sad to be a 24 year old woman standing before you.

A friend?

"You had Shoko." You easily countered.

"I wanted you."

The revelation made you shut up. Standing awkwardly behind your desk and staring at her with a scrunched face. Wanted you? She wanted you? There's no way that she truly meant it. It was just nostalgia making her speak. Making her lose sight of what actually happened in those years.

"I-I wanted you like a friend, by the way. None of that— um, not like gay or anything!" She suddenly stuttered and sounded terribly like herself compared to herself. "I just... you were... my friend. And... I didn't— I don't have many of those."

Her words were stilted and awkward again. Something that made you tilt your head at her. She didn't look away from you as you processed the words. You were her friend. One of her only friends. Then you left. Right after she lost her one and only best friend.

Suguru's defection made you cruel and selfish.

You press your lips together, "Well, I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything."

"Right," Gojo nods, crossing her arms over her chest. "A little late."

Your chest tightened. "I suppose so."

She stands there for a beat longer before a grin broke across her lips. "Well, you could make it up to me." Her tone was much too light and eager to be genuine or true. But you weren't about to ruin it by asking.

You hesitate in asking, "What?"

"Come get crepes with me!" She said, not allowing you to answer as she grabbed your hand. "Shoko ditched me for Utahime."

"Oh, so I'm backup?"

"No— Well, a bit. But this will be a great bonding moment." She turned her head towards you, dimples prominent. "You in?"

You stared for a long moment. Wondering what could possibly run through Gojo Satoru's mind. How she could so quickly change her emotions. To be so vehemently angry one moment and happy the next. But that had always been her. A ball of rage that could fight back at any moment and then resolve it with her smile and pretty eyes—

"C'mon, just one crepe, some talking, then you can ditch me again." She said it teasingly, but you could tell there was a hint of sadness. Desperation.

You snort softly. "Okay, Satoru."

Her cheeks dusted pink and she pulled you out the room. "Missed you calling me that!"

"Satoru? It's your name."

"Yeah, but Gojo makes it sound like you hate me."

"Well..."

"Hey!"

You and Satoru do not mention Geto Suguru that entire night. Or the night after that. Or the night after that.

It was probably for the best.

[mimicha-arts]

Date: 09/29 SPOILERS FOR S2 Part 1

I don't know how many times I rewrote everything, my documents flew away for dozens of pages, so I will divide my post into several parts.

I like to theorize and explain things to myself, but at the moment every new question that comes up contradicts every answer I found. I don’t have a lot of time now, and unfortunately I have to write first, then translate. So I don't know when I will be able to edit the next part and post it.

In the first post I want to talk about time, number of attempts, and what the original reality is. My friendly reminder - this is all just empty speculation and I'm just having fun (while crying actually). I'm pretty sure that when we get trailers and more information about canon, I'll change my mind a lot. But that's it for now.

Time

The events in s2 take place in a short time. In the last interview it was said that about 3 days had passed. so. October, 23th - Lu Guang was stabbed, Cheng Xiaoshi was interrogated during the day, the events in the hospital placed during the evening. October, 24th - Chen Bin's funeral, Cheng Xiaoshi dived in his photo October, 25th - dive in Li Tianxi's photo, interrogation of Li Tianchen, time loop, Lu Guang's kidnapping October, 26th - everything that happened in the theater and in the tunnel Plus taking into account the time (about a month) they spent in the hospital, ep12 ends at the end of November/beginning of December, congratulations. The start of the new year is almost here, have we really crossed the critical point for Cheng Xiaoshi and he won't be forever 21? Heh.

9/13 is not the date of Cheng Xiaoshi's death,  it has to be 9/12. Below I will describe why I think that this is not his first attempt, and in this case more than 5 minutes have definitely passed. Time has not stood still, seconds are passing. Lu Guang's watch does not say five in the morning, but midnight and five minutes. The date of the password is Lu Guang's reminder, corresponding exactly to the time of the dive. If that's the case, I believe that each new reality is a new password corresponding to the time of  diving, as a reminder of the previous failure. 

Technically, I think that Cheng Xiaoshi actually died at 5:35 in the original timeline - this date was indicated, everything led to it, but in the end it was not shown  in s2 itself. The events in the tunnel do not correspond to this time, since the actions took place earlier (the meeting at the theater was scheduled for 3 am, the rest of the events happened very quickly, the whole action couldn't have lasted for 2 hours and a half, so I think everything happened before approximately 4 am or so).

It coincides too well with this broken time in the Overthink. So, I am desperate enough to believe that  Cheng Xiaoshi's death occurred at 05:35 (as actual time). Even if the specific time in the ED can be perceived as 5:20, because that is literally the reason why Lu Guang broke the time - his wish that Cheng Xiaoshi could live, his love for Cheng Xiaoshi. It is possible that time passed in the original reality - literally from this moment until the last attempt at 00:05. So maybe. While Lu Guang lives one life after another, in fact, Lu Guang is truly “frozen” in this 12-13 September, and not even a day has passed in the original timeline. Why do I think that exactly this amount of time has passed (more than five minutes, but less than a day)?

It’s difficult to say at all that Cheng Xiaoshi died in the photo studio in the first place.

There are changes in the design of their room.

Lu Guang probably washed the blood from his hands, so he spent some time for it, but did not change his clothes, still covered in blood, even has traces of blood on his face. (Did Cheng Xiaoshi touch his face before he died? Did Lu Guang himself cry, covering his face with hands? Oh, boy)

I'll talk about details in the next part.

Again and again

I feel sorry for him. He is the most pathetic, most selfish, most insane person in the universe. I love it so much.

I believe we have not yet seen the actual chronology in terms of events, but we have seen the original timeline in terms of Lu Guang's insane room.

I’m sure this is not his first dive; we have always had the symbolism of constant resets. Again and again, again and again, again and again. I think there have been many attempts. As many as there were photographs he could find - if the ability works the same way as Cheng Xiaoshi use it himself, and he should be the author of the photo, we can only cover our heads with our hands and cry.

This is Lu Guang's POV - Lu Guang already knew that the death node cannot be changed (meaning he already tried), but he still wants to use the very last attempt to try.

He looks so dead inside, it's impossible. In my understanding: he initially used earlier photographs that were closer to September, the death of Cheng Xiaoshi in the original reality, and then dived deeper and deeper into the past, into more distant events.

Let's go back to s1. It is still difficult to say how many times the events were repeated. Lu Guang himself confirmed it in his words that this happened more than once. There have been a lot of attempts, he himself said “no matter how hard you try".

I think that “last chance” meant just that, last chance. From what he said, we know that a photo can only be used once. If s1 showed us the events of the current timeline, which I believe, this was probably one of the earliest photos that Lu Guang could use - a photo that happened before their first meeting. Back to their real beginning. This… tritely has a beautiful and symbolic logic behind it. Current events are “all or nothing.”

The photo studio from the flashback is the original universe, this reality is not destroyed, he returns to it after each original attempt. We know that Cheng Xiaoshi died many times in many different ways. If there have been many attempts, if the attempts are limited to photographs, all he can do is use them from some original point.

Like I think he can't get an "infinite" number of attempts by using the photos again within the "past" he returned to. In my opinion, “dive within a dive” is impossible. I don't think that after diving, there is a possibility of another dive by the same person inside the diving - because it makes more sense if Lu Guang has an invisible timer that reminds him - the time is running out.

I think the design of their room in the original timeline confirms this. Their table is always full of books, there are things, lamps, even framed photo. Everything is empty. If these were the events immediately after Сheng Xiaoshi's death, would their room be so lifeless?

I'm inclined to think that Lu Guang went through all their belongings, used every possible attempt to find suitable photographs that would allow him to try to rewrite the events again.

I find destroyed or burned photographs more symbolic of failed attempts being burned, too - after all, a photo can only be used once, everything is changing, it’s not a time loop. Every used photo, every reality that doesn't turn out well, is another crossed out opportunity. But remembering his words about the destruction of photos - I think that we will see this again in the context of the fact that he destroyed the photos himself. It is quite possible that he destroys the photo after the dive to erase the reality/time where Cheng Xiaoshi died again as a fact. Because… otherwise a terrible situation will arise. If Lu Guang possesses himself from a photo, then after leaving it after Cheng Xiaoshi's death, the original!Lu Guang moves back to the original line, while Lu Guang from the rewritten timeline remains in the timeline where Cheng Xiaoshi is dead (and if the events are rewritten so deeply, it is not at all clear what will happen to his memory). Therefore, I am sure that the original Lu Guang must destroy the photographs because of this as well.

I was wondering if he destroys the photo while diving, right after it - maybe that's how the mechanics could work, I would say, of how he "locks" himself into a certain reality. But since I believe that he should return to the "original point", I do not think that this is possible - if he doesn't need to come back, if he just "dives after diving" further into the next timeline, it won't make sense: more photos can be taken, attempts won't end with a limit. But do I like this idea for the last attempt? That he has to live his entire life from the very beginning without a “save point” to return to? Oh. Yes. Note: I considered the possibility that there is no original timeline as a starting point for diving, that he dives again after diving inside the dive itself, destroys the photo immediately inside the dive, that everything is repeated again, no limit either. Just at some point Lu Guang himself decides there is no point in continuing to use any photos from this period, so decided to use a photo corresponding to the very very beginning. But in doesn't make sense, in any case he will have the opportunity to take more photos that he could use for further dives, this does not create a " the last try" point (even if it was possible, also knowing Lu Guang’s character, I don’t think that he could partly “give up”, partly take such risks voluntarily)

But it's still questionable. Because, if the original timeline exists, all dives were made from there, then a simple problem arises - given Cheng Xiaoshi's ability, all dives take place in “real time”, i.e. in the original reality the same amount of time should also pass. We all understand that this is impossible, it is difficult to imagine how many attempts Lu Guang made, how many years actually passed.

So, if we believe that the “original reality” is a thing, then the combination of their abilities, becoming a “perfect fusion,” has other limits, other specifics of using and/or the original timeline is so broken that time only passes when Lu Guang exists in it.

The original universe… or?

I hope I've made it clear enough before - in my opinion the original timeline was shown to us in terms of the timeline from where he dives into the photos. Their room. Because there must be something that creates a limited number of attempts.

But I have some doubts about the fact that what we saw in the vision or flashback is the original timeline, too. Yes, they could have shown us the very first death of Cheng Xiaoshi, this would even be logical, but the problem is that this is only relevant if we agree that Lu Guang has white hair from birth.

Considering that the hints themselves within the series may turn out to be a joke, I still haven't completely dismissed this idea. The only characters with unusual hair color are twins, but they are like that at least because of genetics, they inherited it from their mother. While the issue with Lu Guang remains open.

Therefore, I am considering 2 simple options: 1. Lu Guang's hair was originally white from birth, so we shouldn't expect him to have a different design in the original timeline. Or Lu Guang's hair turned white before Cheng Xiaoshi's death for some other reason. Then we can safely say that the events of the flashback is the original universe.

2. Lu Guang's hair was not originally white, but his hair gradually turned white with each dive attempt due to overpowering, trying too many times, and overusing his abilities.

If we consider the second option, then:

The flashback events shown to us are one of the later attempts, for example, the penultimate one, which is generally a possible option. That version of death, when Cheng Xiaoshi received a very similar injury to Lu Guang - that why the flashbacks were specifically about this late attempt.

The events shown to us are this current reality in which Cheng Xiaoshi was/has to be the 7th case, and this is exactly the death that was intended for him in this timeline - but this period of time, from April to September, was cut out and "stolen", just as case 7 disappeared. And that in the most recent attempt, not only was time rewritten “from the very beginning,” from the very first photo, but something else happened to prevent Cheng Xiaoshi’s death at the appointed time.

The one who was supposed to die in the photo studio when Lu Guang was stabbed - was Cheng Xiaoshi himself, and what was shown was not a flashback, but Lu Guang's vision of how things could have been different (if we perceive the forest not as a literal location, but a symbol) . I doubt it, but let's leave this possibility open.

Why do I even think that the white hair theory could be real? Of course, maybe it's just the light, but maybe… Due to Li Tianxi's memories and abilities, taking over the memories from the other reality in which Lu Guang lived, Qiao Ling's hair also changed a bit. Pay attention to the only white strain in her hair. This is an extremely interesting and rather intentional detail.

If this is the case, then Qiao Ling's white hair is a hint. This does not mean that every attempt is 1 white strand of hair. It's not that… literal. This is an artistic way of allowing the viewer to speculate if this is the case.

I'm not betting on any particular idea, given that things can't be that simple and we don't really know how September-April will be explained. Another problem is why Lu Guang is wearing a watch on his other hand in this shot. Everything may be different, case 7 may be about a completely different character. But I also think many things will be connected at some point.

Photos and OP

There are a lot of photographs. So many. As we remember from Dive Back in Time. There will be two key ones - thanks to Vortex.

One of which is precisely related to the moment that allowed Lu Guang to travel 6 years (or more) into the past - to the moment they even met. Would this be a photo at school? Was it an accidental photo left behind? I have much more painful though. Their “very beginning” has a huge chance of not being high school time, but as I mentioned before, I’ll leave that for a separate post.

But the other one? I can’t imagine clearly, of course, but for me there are 3 ways:

This is about the current timeline - September-October were influenced by the use of a different photo - it will let us understand what the 7th case and one of the main storylines.

The starting point from where Lu Guang began his attempts to save Cheng Xiaoshi and change his fate. The core one.

If we believe the hints in the art book, the intro, the dark design of Cheng Xiaoshi, then the photo will be from the moment where something happens to make CXS become depresso!CXS.

I had hopes that the teaser would be about s3, and thus something would become clearer in my head, but… For now, we can only build theories for the next year or two.

Thank you for reading ~

[inchidentally]

thank you for being a voice of reason the last couple days, I've been trying (and failing) to keep my emotions in check and trying (and embarrssingly failing) not get into unnecessary fights over f1 of all things, but your commentary has been a much needed reality check for me lol

babe trust me social media is set up to get u like that <3<3 but yea you just have to look at the fact that this is about Men and specifically Rich Privileged Men who truly do not have the capacity to care as much about any of this as fans would like to think they do bc - apart from Lewis - the stakes in their lives are so unbeLIEVably hilariously low and exist in a toxic netherworld of moral relativity and inherent systemic supremacy. they literally Feel Bad :( and then go live fabulously carefree rarefied existences that have zero relationship w anything you or I could even fathom. parents not having much money to start with or bad things happen blah blah all of that happens to the rest of us but we have to have actual responsibilities and oppression on top of it. I'm not giving a second of my life to feeling intense emotions for any of these men bc I couldn't bear the stink hanging around me of knowing that second should've morally rightfully gone to literally any number of other human beings than Men who already have more than they've ever earned or deserved. they can all fucking cope with whatever bc they've got access to any amount of support they want or need and the rest of us do not.

same goes w my feed - I don't want to have anyone who isn't fully aware we're all here for Fandom Narratives Only and that's all these men are worth of our time.

first anon this isn't targeted at you I just feel like we can all do w a reminder of some kind that our emotions should be shared out only to people and things that are worth it !! the reason why hardcore stan behavior always turns into angry toxic sludge is bc way deep down those ppl are aware of how futile and one-sided their rages and passions and adoration are and that it's only making them more empty and therefore they invent a completely false version of their idol that can live inside their head and give them back a fake sense of attachment and fulfillment.

but even for those of us who are just fans/casuals, it starts feeling gross to experience any kind of negative emotion about sports/famous people/etc bc it achieves nothing for us and doesn't make us grow or add to our lives. we end up w just impotent rage and a misplaced emotional connection to people who have no actual role in our lives. I don't even like witnessing it on my feeds tbh bc I'm like be free of this !! life is short !! if sports men don't bring you joy or laughter or fun then throw them out bc they as people were never in your life anyway !

we've had a v peaceful time w landoscar but wanting them to do well was always gonna end up w certain ppl over-investing and stanning etc. but fortunately I think I've only had to unfollow maybe three ppl? who were kinda random follows anyway so I feel like it's still a comparatively peaceful place <3

not having any delu l-rry st-linson types in our fandom is prob a big reason for that too

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

Best part, seokjin bts, mutual pining pls 🫶🏼

A/N: ok bestie this combo……I’m in love. With you and the idea. Thanks for the request, I hope you like it!!

GN! Reader x Kim Seokjin, mentions of alcohol and drinking, drunk kiss, Christmastime?? Not proofread. Sorry!!

Your eyelids flutter open gently to a room flooded with the white-gold light of morning. Everything is as you left it last night — your head is still resting on your arms at the coffee table, your purse and coat are still on the floor, a few empty bottles of various types of alcohol are still littering the counter, and Kim Seokjin is still curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

And as you look at him -- messy black hair falling over his forehead, big eyes shut, those perfect lips parted ever so slightly in a dream -- you know that no amount of alcohol could erase last night from your memory.

Nothing had happened. Nothing ever really happened between you and Seokjin, but for the past six months, all of that nothing had started to feel awfully like something. That was the earliest you could trace back the phenomena of Seokjin being the first thought in your head when you woke up, which had started as an occasional thing and had progressed into an everyday one.

Before then, Seokjin had been just another member of your friend group, a tight-knit squad of varying careers and interests who'd all been friends since college. You'd always liked him -- he was smart and kind and funny, always willing to participate in any of the antics of other members of the group and always making sure everyone was taken care of -- but it hadn't got beyond that until Christmastime.

Specifically, the Christmas Dance Battle Challenge.

This yearly tradition was one of your absolute least favorite parts of Christmas with your friends. You were decidedly not a dancer, but you played along because you saw how happy it made your other friends. The rules were simple: on December 1st, each person draws a number, and whoever draws the same number is their partner. Each number coincides with a song, which is the song the two of you have to learn the dance for by the time of the annual Christmas Eve-Eve (two days before Christmas) party. There would be a group vote after everyone had performed, and the winning pair got a prize -- usually a gift card each and a bottle of wine -- that the rest of the group had to pitch in to buy.

So, on December 1st, you had gathered. You had drawn #2 with Seokjin, and the song had been Bite Me by New Jeans. And the two of you had met up the next day to discuss "the strategy", which was what Seokjin had called it, clueing you into something you didn't realize about him: Seokjin was competitive.

"Alright," he'd said, pacing in front of you like a general in front of his troops right before battle. "This year I have it on good authority that the prize will be a gift card to my favorite restaurant, and I have to defend my winning title from last year, so this has to be good. How confident are you?"

"Uhhh..." you'd stuttered, and Seokjin had paused in front of you to flick your forehead lightly. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Now is not the time for insecurities," he'd told you. "You hold yourself back from true greatness every year, I've watched you. But you have amazing potential. And now, I will be the one who releases this butterfly from their cocoon."

He was speaking seriously, and yet there was a way that his mouth turned up at the corners that made you realize that it was mostly an act. So you'd grinned at him hesitantly, and he'd clapped. "That's the spirit! Now, I need to know your schedule so I can put together a rehearsal timeline."

You'd practiced twice a week with Seokjin, and his positive encouragement meant that your dancing skills improved markedly during that time. And you were also enjoying getting to know Seokjin, whose goofy humor and gentle teasing eased your normally-anxious mind. He calmed you, and brought out a more energetic, less timid side of you that you didn't even know existed. Being around him was as easy as breathing. In time, you even found it within you to tease him back as you learned the moves to the dance. Things were going so well.

And then, the "dress rehearsal" on December 17th.

Only a minute in to the practice, Seokjin paused the music. "I swear I didn't mess it up, Seokjin," you growled at him, "and I know, because I made a point to flick my foot specifically like you said --"

"That's not it," he complained, stopping your words with a finger. "There's not enough passion."

“Huh?” you said.

He strode over to you, stopping well inside your personal space bubble and looking down at you. “Do you think I’m handsome?” he asked you.

Your eyes had gotten wide and you’d blushed. “You -- what?”

“Answer the question,” he’d said with a half-smile and an eyebrow raised.

“Well, of course,” you’d stammered. Because he was -- tall and broad-shouldered, confident and self-assured, with that sardonic smile and those eyes that were as sweet and warm as the caramel cinnamon syrup you liked in your coffee. You’d always known he was handsome, but it wasn’t until this moment that you’d realized just how beautiful he was. He was perfect, really.

“So, why do you act like you’re scared to touch me?” he asked you, amused.

Unbeknownst to you, Seokjin was fighting to keep his very real frustration out of his voice. Because for the past month you’d been teasing him without even realizing it. He was addicted to your secret humor, admired the way you were so thoughtful and considerate to your shared group of friends, and couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty you were. He’d been feeling this way since you’d met, secretly praying every year that you’d get partnered up for the dance competition, but only this year had the prayer been answered. And while it had been thrilling so far -- Seokjin was learning there was almost no line he wouldn’t cross to hear your laugh, especially when it was because of him -- he was also discouraged at the lack of real progress. His first concern was that if he said anything to you about his feelings, you’d be too polite to turn him down, and he hated to put you in a situation like that -- but he’d started to wonder, with all the times he caught you staring, if he might have more hope than he started with.

So it was time for him to take hold of his destiny, he supposed. When he wrapped an arm around your waist, you gasped a little, and Seokjin had to grit his teeth to keep himself from becoming a giggling mess. He pulled you gently into him. “Have you ever danced with a man before?” he asked you.

Blushing furiously, you shook your head no. He nodded, lifting one of your hands in his own. “Follow my lead,” he’d said, and with your hips touching, he waltzed you around the room.

You were surprised at how quickly you were able to relax into his arms, especially because your whole body felt tingly and electric where it met with his skin. Seokjin led you through a short waltz that had the whole room spinning treacherously around you, forcing you to look at him. His eyes seemed to swallow you whole in their warmth, and there was something unspoken and magnetic in them that threatened to overwhelm you. Finally, he slowed to a stop, but didn’t let go of you. “Feel that?” he asked in a whisper, his eyes searching your face.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

He let go of you then, taking a step back. The sudden distance between the two of you left you feeling a bit cold, and you shivered. “That’s the energy we need to channel,” he said, turning away from you -- because this was the only way he knew how not to kiss you when you looked at him like that.

The rest of the practice had gone smoothly, but that was the first night you dreamed of Seokjin. And the first morning you woke up thinking of him. Little did you know, he was waking up that same morning thinking of you, too.

And you’d won the dance contest, without much of a competition. “I didn’t know you had that in you,” your friends had told you. “I mean, the chemistry?”

“Thanks,” you’d said, meeting eyes with Seokjin and blushing. “I had a really good partner.”

You’d assume things would go back to normal -- back to how they were before -- but Seokjin still texted you every day, just about different things. You ended up at his apartment a couple times without any of your other friends present, all for regular friendly activities like movies and video game nights, and he’d never made a move, always the picture of manners and thoughtfulness. And you had fun together, laughing more than you’d ever laughed with anyone. But the feelings that had awakened when he was standing so near to you had only grown, resulting in every morning being flooded with memories of him -- his smile, the smell of him, even the goofy pajamas he wore on occasion when you’d come over.

You hadn’t told him anything about this for several reasons. The main one was of course that you were friends now, and whatever else existed between you, you really enjoyed being around him. The fear that all of that would evaporate like a stray bit of smoke was 90% of the reason you stayed silent.

The other 10% was that you knew if you let yourself fall for him, there was a possibility that it wouldn’t work out, and you weren’t entirely sure how you’d survive that level of heartbreak.

So you’d let it be what it was for six whole months — from December to June, you had ached for Kim Seokjin in the same way as a carefully concealed wound. Sometimes, if you moved a certain way, it hurt worse — like during movie nights when his arm extended over the back of the sofa, but never quite around your shoulders. And sometimes it was barely there, like in late hours of the night when your quiet conversations had fizzled out and you were sitting in comfortable silence together. But still it remained, becoming clear to you at some indistinguishable moment that it wasn’t ever going to go away.

And then yesterday the call had come. “Hey,” he’d said. “What are your evening plans?”

“I’m pretty open. Why?” You hated the way your heart took off at the question, but it was hard when he phrased it in such a date-like way.

“Did you use your gift card?” he asked, referring to the one you’d both won as the prize for the dance competition.

“No, I didn’t.” You waited.

“We should go there tonight,” Seokjin recommended. “I can pick you up. Is seven okay?”

The whole day had been a terrible waiting game. The hours crawled by at a sloth’s pace, refusing to show much progress no matter how often you checked your watch. You’d gotten ready at 5, and it had somehow taken you only a half hour, so you were stuck waiting for another hour and a half before the knock finally came at your apartment door.

When you opened it, your jaw dropped. He looked like a prince in a blue suit with a crisp white shirt, his hair pushed up off his forehead. He’d held out the bouquet in his hands. “Um, hello,” he said, an endearing nervousness coloring his tone. “You look…really nice.”

You’d tucked a stray hair behind your ear with a jittery hand. “Thanks,” you’d replied. “Why the flowers?”

“Oh,” he’d said, like he’d just remembered them, although he was still holding them out to you. “They’re a thank you. For helping me win.”

“You really didn’t have to,” you said, taking them from him. “I had a lot of fun with you. And I’m glad we were able to get closer because of it.”

Was that a hint of a blush on his cheeks?

But he simply smiled, offering you his arm. “Let’s go.”

And dinner had turned into drinks, which had turned into drunk Seokjin. He was similar to regular Seokjin, just louder and less filtered, and though you were tipsy yourself, you knew better than to let him try and get home on his own. Not knowing what else to do, you’d brought him back to your place, letting him down gently onto the couch.

“Hey,” he’d said in a scolding tone as you stood up to stumble into your own bed. “Why are you leaving me?”

“It’s okay,” you told him. “You’re at my place. You’re safe.”

He’d reached up, then — and on your wobbly legs it was impossible to resist his surprisingly strong grip. You fell right into his lap, your hands finding purchase on the fabric of his shirt, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He spent only a second looking at your stunned face through hazy eyes, admiring the tint of pink the alcohol lent to your nose and cheeks and the way your brows knit so adorably in nerves and worry, before he leaned in closer and pressed a soft, slow, entirely overwhelming kiss to your lips.

You couldn’t help it. You twisted your fingers around his shirt and returned the kiss, knowing with a pang of agony that this could be the one and only chance you had. You tried to say everything you couldn’t put into words with the kiss, caressing his face with the hand not holding his shirt and finally allowing yourself to feel all the feelings you’d been hopelessly trying to ignore that grew stronger and stronger the longer your lips were locked. The kiss cemented Seokjin firmly into his position as the first person you could ever remember loving like this.

And then he was the first to pull away. He frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to do that while drunk. Wanted it to be more…romantic. Special. But…”

“Yeah?” you’d whispered.

He’d fixed you with a bleary gaze. “If you love me, won’t you say something?”

And then he’d fallen asleep.

You watch him now — the sunlight turning his brown hair slightly auburn, the soothing rhythm of his breathing. And you know you’ll need to talk when he wakes up. But for right now, you let yourself reach across the short distance to move his waves off his face so you can see him better. “Beautiful,” you whisper.

As you let your hand drop, his hand shoots up to your wrist. “Hmm?” he hums at you, blinking awake. “What was that?”

Your heart is beating in your throat, but you know you have to ask. “What do you remember from last night?”

He closes one eye to try and focus. Then he realizes. “Oh, I am so sorry.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

“No really,” he says, sitting up. “That…shouldn’t have happened the way it did.”

And you’re not sure what he means by that, but it’s almost to the point that you don’t even care anymore. So you shake your head and take your hand in his, preparing to be the boldest you’ve ever been in your life.

“Seokjin, you should know...that when you hold me, and kiss me slowly, it’s the sweetest thing.”

His jaw drops. And you continue, “I’ve felt this way forever. And all of the time we spent together has only made it worse. Because no matter what we’re doing, you’re the best part.”

You wait for him to respond, but he seems lost for words. Finally he chokes out, “you’re the sunshine of my life.”

Your face splits into a massive grin. “You want coffee, babe?” you ask him.

“You’re the only coffee I need,” he replies, looking at you like one looks at the stars — awed and reverent and overwhelmed all at once

[backupherewego]

72 HOURS IN BUDAPEST WITH JAMES VOWLES

Date: 2022/7/27 Source: 404 (Sorry)

James Vowles, a key figure on the Formula One race circuit, quite literally breezes through Budapest as the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team strives to be named the World Constructors’ Champion for the eighth year in a row. As one of the team members responsible for navigating the road to the top of the podium, however, he does manage to sneak in some local sights and a decadent dinner at The Ritz-Carlton, Budapest. Read on to discover his secrets to race-day success and learn about the culinary competition on this year's itinerary.

WHAT IS YOUR MOST MEMORABLE MOMENT AT THE HUNGARIAN GRAND PRIX?

“Mine actually stems back to 2006 [when I was working with Honda]. We'd had some successful races and been on the podium a few times, but we hadn't won anything up to that point. Budapest is a track that is very difficult to master. I know it looks simple because it's small and there aren’t that many corners, but it's incredibly difficult to get right for the drivers and engineers. You also have rain that comes in and out. 2006 was my first-ever win as an engineer, as well as the team's first win. It's something that means a huge amount to me because we had to fight for it. It wasn't given to us on a plate. We really had to make the right decisions at the right time. A number of cars had a number of incidents, and we came through the field and did the right thing, so Budapest rests strongly in my mind as a result of that.

The second was with Mercedes in 2013, which was Lewis Hamilton’s first year with us. It was at that point we realized how special he was in Budapest. We didn't have the fastest car—Red Bull was by far the leader that year—yet Lewis was able to win that race fair and square. He did it because [Budapest] is just where he feels comfortable. It's a track he loves, so it holds a strong place in my heart because of that.”

"So often in life, you celebrate on your little podium and then bam, you're straight onto the next thing ... Whether the result is good or bad, we always pull together as a team."

DO YOU HAVE ANY PRE-RACE RITUALS?

“I do. I have to have socks for the current year. For example, the Tommy Hilfiger socks [that are part of the official Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team 2021 uniform], they have to be of that year. They have to be Tommy and they can't be anything different, which I know sounds strange, but that's me!

I also always go out to the pit wall with my water bottle, take it back, empty some water out and put in a Berocca, which is a vitamin pill. It’s something I've always done and always will do. Then, I'll go to the grid. There's a specific time when I set my IWC watch to the exact time of the day. It's just something I've always done to make sure that everything is in sequence. These are odd things to be admitting, but I always make sure I walk through the same side of the garage. Normally, it's Valtteri Bottas’ side, but I don't mix and match. They're all strange things I do out of habit, but they've worked!”

WHAT FUELS YOU ON RACE DAY?

“I'm really particular on what goes into my body. I’m generally on the pit wall for qualifying and the race, which is about two hours. You have to hydrate to the right level. If you over-hydrate, you're just desperate to go to the loo in the middle of the race, which is the most distracting feeling in the world! So, step one is actually controlled hydration throughout the day. Step two is I always have a banana and an apple straight after qualifying and the race. There is a tremendous amount of adrenaline that goes through your body and you have to put food in to absorb it to a certain extent.”

DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE WAY TO CELEBRATE POST-RACE IF YOU WIN?

"The trackside team that you see at every race spends more time together than they do with their respective families. We use celebratory occasions to pull together as a team, to strengthen the team, and to create a bond. After Silverstone, we all went across to the motorhome, every single engineer, and we took five minutes to breathe, relax, and enjoy the moment. So often in life, you celebrate on your little podium and then bam, you're straight onto the next thing ... Whether the result is good or bad, we always pull together as a team.”

WHAT DO YOU LOVE MOST ABOUT VISITING BUDAPEST?

“There are two things that not just myself, but a number of us like. First, there is a dedicated running track along the Danube. Then, you can run around Margaret Island in the middle of it. Everyone is there exercising, which I love because you miss that in a lot of other city centers. The second is that there are literally hundreds of restaurants that I would recommend, be it in the old town or the city center. I've never really had a bad meal in Budapest.”

ARE THERE ANY MUST-SEE SIGHTS?

“You can’t go wrong cycling or driving from the city center [where The Ritz-Carlton, Budapest is located] to Heroes’ Square. You’ll see some of the most incredible parliamentary buildings and hotels along the way.”

IF YOU HAD ONE DAY OFF IN BUDAPEST, WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

“I'd go to the water park. I've never been there, but it looks amazing! I often find myself sitting outside in 34°C [93°F] heat looking up at the hills and all you see is people amusing themselves in splashing water.”

WHAT IS THE BEST MEAL YOU' VE EVER HAD IN BUDAPEST?

“The best meal would be the one that I had with The Ritz-Carlton. I was fortunate enough to be invited to a dinner that they hosted and you can't really compare—it’s just the highest level of quality that you could possibly have. After that, there's a steak restaurant called La Pampa. It's covered in cowhide and it’s truly amazing as well. You get the choice of either Hungarian, Argentinian, or U.S. beef. For what it's worth, the Hungarian beef is my favorite. I’ve been there enough times that I've tried everything! I also had dinner on a boat while sailing up and down the Danube, which was quite a unique experience. Nothing, however, tops a chef looking after you for the night at The Ritz-Carlton, Budapest.”

IS THERE A TRADITIONAL HUNGARIAN DISH OR BEVERAGE THAT YOU’D LIKE TO TRY?

“There are a lot of Hungarian dishes, goulash being the most well-known, but I haven't really tried any of them in depth. I find that the cuisine in Budapest is quite international. I've had curries there—our team has a fascination with curries. This year, there's an engineer's curry-off that's going to take place in Hungary. If things go wrong, we’ve got a few weeks to recover in August!”

[kobblefort]

Rushsly: Second Cavern Arc 3

The truth is that I am unimaginably empty.

Not just hollow, but in fact, a vacuum. An impossibly intense absence of pressure exists at my core, a black hole that exists simply to suck up anything and everything that comes too close, and the rest of me is simply a series of mechanisms to fruitlessly attempt to fill it. I have no other true direction besides to seek ever more food, more drinks, louder music, stronger alcohol, harder drugs, funner games, endlessly more furry porn with bigger and bigger breasts and cocks overflowing with oceans of cum and milk. At times I am made nauseous by it, so bloated and gravid with garbage that I vomit, and yet even when I have taken too much, eaten too much, done too much, I am not full. I must simply lie on my side and wait for the pain of overconsumption to pass before I just consume some more.

The idea that I was ever a child frequently makes me laugh. Of all the dull and blurry memories of youth, I will always remember one in particular: my parents had put me to bed when I was still very small, just barely graduated from a crib. There was a "toy plane" in my room, or at least a kind of seat that was more-or-less shaped like one. Not tired at all, I climbed from my little bed, sat down in "the pilot's seat," and I just sat there all night, imagining I was flying, daydreaming adventures whose specifics have long since left me, but which no doubt involved Sonic and Tails and Knuckles and Bomberman and whatever other copyrighted-intellectual-property imaginary friends came to visit the mind of a sheltered child. I just sat there alone in an empty room, imagining, until the sun had come up and my parents came to wake me. They figured I had woken up early, and for no reason in particular I decided not to tell them I hadn't slept at all. So many years have passed since that innocuous night, and with each one it feels more and more impossible to imagine that I was ever a child, much less one that could be so completely satisfied to spend an entire night in his own imagination. A high-twenty-something number of years later, I have been smoking cigarettes for a greater amount of time than had passed before I ever took my first drag. If I were to start recounting my drunken, drugged and dumbfucked adventures, we would probably never get back to talking about the greatest simulation game of all time, Dwarf Fortress.

And we will return to the greatest simulation game of all time Dwarf Fortress in just one moment more, but for now, I suppose I want some kind of absolution. Even though this writing is entirely anonymous besides being shared with a few deeply trusted friends who already know all this shit about me, and will leave no mark on my real flesh-and-blood life or the vast majority of my other online parlances, I wanted to say it. In a way, maybe this is how I can start to come to terms with it. I am an empty vessel, I am a gaping void, I am a vampire. Shapeless, formless, an elemental hunger, an unquenchable thirst. The obsession I call "love" is nothing more than an overwhelming desire to be classified, objectified, given shape, given form. And when it inevitably breaks down, when the black hole at my core sucks so hard that the ad-hoc structure of a "self" we made collapses, there is nothing left but to devour my lover like everyone else. Hey maybe that's where the vore fixation comes from!

I don't know what to do about any of that deep personal shit, but sometimes I feel like I know what to do in the greatest simulation game of all time Dwarf Fortress. And what I know now is that it takes the miners, smoothers and fortification-carvers an unruly amount of time to get down to the third cavern layer, so I've decided to start moving the base down into the depths. The kobbles will be availed of a third tavern (though admittedly, the failed arena one never quite caught on) along with some other amenities to try and corral them closer to the depths. Nobody likes a long commute, after all, especially when you don't even get paid, you just get fucked over after spending 2 entire hours hauling your ass across the entire city and some change and have to spend two-and-a-half more to get back to your empty fucking apartment where you're still broke and you can't pay your bills.

The kobbles are far from broke, and Shumros Cer brought us an absolute embarrassment of leathers - we probably asked for that, I don't know, I forgot. In the interest of being diplomatic we buy way more of it than we could ever actually want or need, in exchange for gold and platinum crafts by the boxful.

The Stella Elves bring a large assortment of clothes, along with quite a decent amount of literature. These would be interesting in another fortress, but literacy has never been of much import to the kobbles. Clothes and booze are nice no matter who you are, however, and are bought for just a fistful of gems.

The Nillians bring some kind of glitch I think - I don't really care lol, just looks funny. But they also bring an impressive assortment of steel tools, weapons and armor, and of course more booze. A box of gold and platinum nonsense will send them happily on their way.

Down in the second cavern seems like a good place for our new tavern. Fiva the Abyss of Crevices keeps creeping around, but with no way in, the lobster has nothing to do but wait for some dumber, less cautious creature to blast with its poisonous gas.

While not even training, Ace Steel decides she really, really likes a steel battleaxe she got her claws on lately, and names it Silrurvy: "Styletongues." Tongue style??? It's tail time????? Gex the Gecko getting his pussy ate????????

"The Curled Pepper" is established - and populated, with an almost uncharacteristic quickness. Provided the kobbles actually choose to congregate here more often, rather than all the way up in The Permanent Snack, it should significantly cut down on the time it takes to map out the final cavern layer.

This dumb fucking glassblower goes into a strange mood and starts requesting a bunch of shit we already have tons of I don't know what you want!! Leather, got it! Forest, we have tons of wood! Glass??? Look the fuck around you!!! A quarry? What do we even have besides stones?? Shining bars of metal?? How does 1417 iron 56 gold 135 zinc 193 steel 27 pig iron 75 platinum 40 tin and 624 billon sound to you??? Not good for some fucking reason?? Then I don't know. Just die, I guess. Just go insane and die. I consider "cask of Amontillado'ing her ass."

I do, in fact, "cask of Amontillado her ass." At least, until I realize by "glass" she means she literally wants a piece of raw green glass. That should have been obvious to me in retrospect. Sorry I almost killed you over a minor inconvenience, lol!!! In the real world this would be analogous to if you were "a bicyclist just trying to get to your shitty miserable kitchen job alive" and I was "an SUV driver trying to absolutely maximize his time at TGI Fridays happy hour." Does that feel good to think about??? Actually the closest I've ever come to being outright killed on my bike was by a Tesla literally clipping me with their mirror. It was not a narrow road or anything, the driver was just a fucking moron. (This was in like 2014 where you still had to be kind of astute to realize how fucking stupid Elon Musk was, he hadn't posted himself into an embarrassing grave yet.) I still think the irony of a Tesla driver almost killing a bicyclist is really funny. "Yeah I drive an Electric car so I'm helping an environment! Nevermind how many entire ecosystems have been bulldozed to put up cloverleaf interchanges! Don't think about where the electricity for these batteries actually comes from! Don't think about what kind of insanely unsustainable industrial processes are required to make just one of these exploding-battery pieces of shit! I'm helping because I bought the right thing! Now quit hogging the bike lane, I'm trying to be environmentally friendly over here!" I hope whoever that guy was killed himself. Actually, I hope he failed to kill himself. I hope he shot himself but didn't really stick the landing. ANYWAY, as Ty Lovelyseduce chips away at her artifact, the year 255 suddenly begins, starting our sixth year in Rushsly.

The bird towers spot a gnoll thief, but we're not falling for the same trick twice. We pull up the drawbridge, wait a while, and...

So much for that guy. We'll wait a while yet to see if he brought any friends, but if there is another ambush, they're playing it a bit smarter this time themselves.

Acl himself comes up to haul the gnoll into the dungeon, satisfied with simple work as always and letting himself drift through his memories. Hell yeah. That's our wyrm. That's my mother fucking guy that's my fucking dude bro hell yeah bro dude fuck yes. That's my mother fucking dude

"Embraceallied the Wet Zeal" exists now, I guess. Ciri Snarlspurns is not from our fort, and I still don't feel like busting open Legends mode, but it seems a little weird for this artifact to be dedicated to someone Ty doesn't even know just becoming an apprentice trapper. That's not a very impressive job or anything. I mean, like, cool, but just an apprentice? Maybe this is the beginning of some kind of tragic story I'll never know.

Two kobbles reach the absolute worst possible mood, and two more hover just above it. The military kobbles I can at least mitigate by setting them back to training - that always seems to help them blow off steam, and the winter is over after all - I don't really know what to do about Zhag but I've decided to just not worry about it and accept whatever disaster comes of that decision.

The marksbold squad are finally getting their own barracks just below the deep tavern. It'd be quite nice if they managed to pop some shots off at Fiva, but I don't want to keep stationing them and un-stationing them all the time, so this seems more efficient than whatever other solution.

Some lapines come over to tell Acl how nice our fortress is and some random rumors I'm not going to check for a long long time, if I ever do at all.

Oh fuck, ant people!!!

They have no business with us, but they absolutely fucking blast Fiva, who retreats underwater to the edge of the map. Hopefully those two problems sort each other out in one way or another.

A new wave of migrants brings us from 88 to 108 kobbles, and a decent amount of them might not actually be useless. Most of them will probably get assimilated into the military sooner than later - this is an adamantite or bust fortress, and I don't feel like busting right now.

More of the final cavern layer is finally revealed. And I'm just gonna say it I do not feel bad about dfhack'ing in those magma pits at all. -110 out of -129 and no fucking magma in sight, as if getting it up 127 Z-levels would be even remotely feasible. Well, it would be feasible, anything is feasible, but there is only a certain level of misery I can accept while playing a video game. That's kind of the point, right. In real life, the misery just never stops, and you don't get to choose the level you're willing to face. You can't tell the girl who keeps trying to bend you to stop before she breaks you in half. You can't tell your mom to stop ripping the curls right out of your hair with a narrow-toothed comb because she doesn't understand how curly hair works or how you're supposed to treat it. Now you're a white kid with a "jew-'fro" for the rest of your entire educational career! You look in the mirror and you feel fucking embarrassed at looking like a sad, fat clown and everyone calls you "Superbad" because you look like Jonah Hill AND Seth Rogen. In a video game you can go back with what you learned from failing before. But in real life most of your mistakes or spots of bad luck or bad things that happened to you don't actually have the kind of purpose that "dying in Dark Souls" has, there's nothing to actually learn from them and no meaningful way to adjust your behavior. Damn, yeah, I shouldn't have dropped out of high school - Guess I'll keep that in mind for the next time I'm in high school!!! But I guess that's a selfish way to look at it. Sure, I can't do any more about myself, but a basically infinite amount of people will come after me. Maybe that's why I'm supposed to write after all, even if it will never satisfy me. Sure I'll never be able to go back and fix my own life, but if someone ever tells me "I'm thinking of dropping out of high school" I can tell them all about cuts and burns and nerve damage and crying in a walk-in freezer - tell them "if you think 'student loan debt' is bad, wait until you have to work at a fucking White Castle and end up literally maiming yourself just to afford fifteen square-feet in a four-bedroom one-bathroom apartment while entitled rich boomers try to make up their mind on whether you should be a slave, homeless, or just straight up killed, despite the fact that they need people like you to feed them 3 times a day." Good things happen to other people. Everything can go right for you and everyone can like you and you get to make thousands and thousands of dollars off webcomic music and then nothing ever stops you from getting to make your videogame and you never sleep outdoors and you never eat out of a dumpster and you never try to figure out which bills you can put off and for how long. But most people's lives aren't so magical and I guess people like me exist to inspire people like you, to be what a "bad guy" looks like, to be a "tragic side-character," when people like me finally write our own story we've dreamt of since we were kids you don't even fucking read it, and the only way people like me get our flowers is after we fucking die young in some "tragic" stupid and preventable away, THEN it's time to call me a great artist, THEN it's time to read the manuscript, so I can become part of YOUR mythos instead of ever having my own, I can't fucking do this anymore I don't want to play on the fucking computer anymore this isn't the end of the series or anything I just don't fucking feel like writing anymore right now. I'll be back later and we're going to find adamantite.

[royleteas]

Breathe

“Breathe Shou.”

Everything hurt, like his blood was trying to boil him from the inside out. It felt impossible to speak, even make a sound through a throat that felt like it was being cinched off by a golem’s grip. Maybe if he could claw out his eyes there would be some relief from the shooting pain stemming from them. Not even clenched shut was the pain abated.

“Breathe.” The voice was stern, his Grandmother’s. How often had she told him that? When he wanted to rush ahead in training, trying to pour her tea, even when meeting someone new. The youngest Ametersu knew where she was, no doubt standing just a few feet away, keeping his parents at bay with her patented glares. “Breathe and focus. Do not let this power overwhelm you. It is your tool, yours to wield.”

The boy’s shoulders heaved, body bent over to the point his forehead brushed the ground. Breathe?! What was she saying, it was all he could do to keep from screaming! Strangled noises struggled to come from his wracked body as he continued to convulse. He was going to die!

“Breathe, even if you have to scream.”

Those few words, that affirmation locked in that thought for him. Scream. Through the pain, his voice was strangled at first before growing, louder and louder. But as the screams began to zenith in volume and slowly peter out, the convulsions slowed. The boy’s body was forced to relax, if not from pure exhaustion. Eyes that had been screwed shut slowly opened to a sharpened view, whips coming off the figures of his family. 

His breathing had calmed enough, heavy pants but calmer than before. Slowly he looked up, meeting the approving smile of the clan head. “Congratulations, Shou. Your first test of Ascension is finished.”

Shou gave a weak smile before falling to his side, exhaustion taking him into an empty sleep.

~~~~

Slow, steady breaths. The familiar pulse from his chest rippled through his body, the tell tale signs of his power rising to the surface. It was a gradual sensation, like warm water expanding out to fill a tub. No matter how many times he did this, the sensation always made Shou restless but that was the point behind the exercise.

The activation of one’s Ascension powers usually meant heightened levels of physical ability, a feeling that would need to be honed over time. Along with the physical increase, other abilities would manifest over time - not that Shou was aware of them yet. He had prioritized his swordsmanship over the mental training that came with his new powers. Moving his body came naturally, sitting still was another thing; and without the rest of the clan to help him, he naturally fell back on old habits.

It had been three months since the nearly thirty strong members of the Ascended clan took to defense of Ionia from the invading forces. Three agonizing months of no word back from his family. The worry and anxiety built up to the point where the only alleviation from it was the very training he detested.

Through the stillness from without, Shou found some solace with the slow breathing, the expanding of his power. While not a full fix, he was given some reprieve from the dark questions that were beginning to build.

But that inner peace wouldn’t last for much longer, and no amount of breathing training would be able to calm him.

~~~~

Short quick breaths. They’re scared.

Good.

The heavy foliage in Ionia had been difficult for many of the Noxian troops to travel through, leaving them often weary from having to navigate through the verdant life. But what gave them trouble just added more power to their stalker. 

This specific regiment had been in battle after battle, their numbers whittled down by the constant fighting. A perfect prey for this fighter with no name. He crouched low in the dense forest, golden eyes trailing the armored group. Various animal noises had put them on edge, their paranoia working wonders in the night. 

“Focus up!” The man in the lead, the acting captain, called out, doing his best to keep his few men calm but the tremble in his voice betrayed him. “It’s just us out here!” His rally calls were met with another noise in the brush, drawing more panicked words. “Enough! Calm down and breat-”

The order turned into a pained gurgle and a dull thud, the only noise to make his men go silent. To their combined horror, something crouched low over their fallen leader’s body, holding a broken blade stained red just inches from the fatal wound. But the sight of such a brutal death wasn’t the most ominous thing in their sight, the baleful gold eyes starting at them through the darkness was what shook them to the core.

At this point, the fear and paranoia overtook the haggard soldiers. Some moved to attack the figure, others moved to flee, but one stood rooted, unable to move as he watched his comrades fall one by one, their own weapons used to kill them in succession. His legs fell out from under him, falling back into a pool of his comrade’s blood, though unable to scream - or rather, not given any time to. A blade found his neck without mercy, one last gurgled rattle of a breath escaping his lips.

The figure stood over the corpses, another weapon discarded at their feet. The gold in his eyes faded slowly, the nameless man giving one last look at the carnage he made before pressing on. There were so many more invaders in his home, suffocating the land with the blood of his countrymen, with his family.

He wouldn’t be able to breathe properly again until he made sure they were gone.

It was his duty as the last of his clan.

~~~~

“Breathe,” Kengou muttered to himself, looking up the steps to the monastery. Were they always this imposing? Last he saw them was when he was a child, no when Shou was a child. This was the first time Kengou found himself staring up at them. 

His side flared up with a sudden pain, drawing a sharp inhale. The wound had closed weeks ago, scarring over as a reminder - but the pain was still there. At the height of his fight was when he fell the hardest, humbled and forced to see where his rage took him. How much blood was on his hands, calloused palms covered for the sake of his revenge?

‘Too much to use my swords.’ The last gift from his father, twin blades of a nearly black steel forged when he gained his powers, back when Shou was still destined to join the very monastery he stood before. Now instead of resting at his hip, prepared for use, they were carefully wrapped and set along his back with his few belongings. If any were to help him hold them again, it was the one he was supposed to learn from all this time.

“Here we go.”

With one last, deep breath, Kengou Ametersu began the long walk up to the Kinkou monastery, ready to reclaim what he had lost those years ago.

“Breathe Kengou.”

[ohthehypocrisy]

How Pokemon Unite can add Shiny Pokemon

There have been rumors and speculations and grand ideas about Shiny Pokemon coming to Pokemon Unite. While I would absolutely be on board with Shiny Pokemon in Unite, the application of the mechanic needs to be just as unique and rare as the Shiny Pokemon themselves.

As such, I'm gonna walk you through my idea of how to implement Shiny Pokemon in Pokemon Unite, step by step.

Step 1: Tease the Players about Shiny Pokemon coming to Pokemon Unite

This is the easy part, just have the social media accounts for Pokemon Unite to release screenshots of Shiny Pokemon during a game mode.

(This is the thumbnail for the 'shiny' Hoopa glitch that happened a while ago. You can tell that this is a glitch because the eyes and horns don't match that of the shiny model. Click the image to be linked to the full video.)

Step 2: Update the Pokemon List with something called a 'Sparkly Bottle'

When the Shiny update goes live, two things change. First, in the Pokemon List tab of the main menu, each pokemon has a Sparkly Bottle option underneath their Holowear listing.

(Imagine it riiiiight there under Zirco Trading, or next to the Make Favorite option if you will)

Step 3: Time to Start Shiny Hunting

It's explained to you that, in order to fill the Sparkly Bottle, you need to collect sparkles from off-colored pokemon you encounter in the other game modes. It sounds simple enough, but after a couple of games, you come up with nothing for your efforts.

That because, in order to reflect the rarity and beauty of Shiny Pokemon in general, the odds of finding off-colored Wild Pokemon are very low, reflecting the typical Shiny Odds in the mainline games, 1 in 8192.

Even with these odds, with the sheer number of Wild Pokemon that spawn and get defeated over the course of a Standard or Ranked Match, you will eventually run into one such off-colored Wild Pokemon. You'll know that a Wild Pokemon is shiny by the alternate colors it has as well as sparkles emanating from it. The question is, will you defeat it in time before the enemy or an ally takes it from you?

Step 4: The Hunt Never Ends

Alright, you manage to take out a shiny Wild Pokemon and got some sparkles to fill your Sparkly Bottle. You return to the main menu and find that you've filled up the Sparkly Bottle by a little bit. Specifically, you've filled 2...out of 100.

Yeah, it'll be a bit demoralizing to see that, after all that time spent hunting and finding a shiny pokemon, you've only filled the Sparkly Bottle by a small fraction. What gives? Well, while the rarity for all Wild Pokemon being shiny is the same, different Wild Pokemon provide a different amount of sparkles when defeated. Shiny Bunnelby and Swablu provide only 1 sparkle, whereas shiny Accelgor and Escavalier provide 4. Shiny Objective Pokemon like Regieleki can fill up the bottle by 10 sparkles, making them even more important than before to secure.

The idea here is that, with a long enough playtime, you'll eventually fill the Sparkly Bottle all the way up to full. You go and cash it in, and you are rewarded with an alternate Shiny Skin for your favorite pokemon.

Well, you finally got it. Now what?

Step 5: Do It All Over Again for the Rest of the Roster

Cashing in the Sparkly Bottle empties it out and brings it back down to 0, plus whatever extra you had over full. The Sparkly Bottle is available to all pokemon, but you can only use it on one pokemon you own the license for.

Your efforts and determination will be acknowledged by your peers, as Shiny Hunting is the only way to fill the Sparkly Bottle here, no purchase necessary. It'll take a long while to fill up the Sparkly Bottle one time, but those fanatical enough to change the colors of their favorite pokemon will do so after a week or two of grinding. Those of us with less time on our hands will get there eventually, but not as soon as others.

The point of the Sparkly Bottle is to maintain engagement with the players and keep them in the game for as long as possible. It's also a reward for loyal players who play often and consistently. It certainly wouldn't do anyone any favors if you could just buy the Shiny colors as a skin and slap a stat boost to it, right? Heh, right? ...right?

-

Well anyway, that's my idea. If you have other ideas on how they can implement Shiny Pokemon in Unite, I'd love to hear it. Or you can just like and reblog this post to show your appreciation for the idea.

[cheaperfly]

CheaperFly: Your Affordable Vacation Guru

Travel, with its promise of adventure, discovery, and new experiences, has always been a dream for many. Yet, the cost of fulfilling these dreams can often be a daunting barrier. Enter CheaperFly, the platform that's transforming the travel industry by making affordable vacations a reality for everyone. In this article, we'll delve into how CheaperFly has earned its reputation as your go-to affordable vacation guru.

The Rise of CheaperFly

CheaperFly is a rising star in the travel industry, and it's not hard to see why. This platform is changing the way people think about travel by making it more accessible, no matter your budget. With a commitment to providing affordable flights and accommodations, CheaperFly is rewriting the rules of the game.

So, what sets CheaperFly apart from the rest? It's all about the features that make your travel experience easier and more cost-effective. Whether you're a seasoned traveler or a newbie, CheaperFly has something to offer everyone.

Finding the Best Deals

One of the core promises of CheaperFly is helping you find the best deals for your vacation. To make the most of this platform, here are some tips:

Flexible Travel Dates:

If you can be flexible with your travel dates, you'll be in for significant savings. CheaperFly's search engine allows you to explore various date options, ensuring you get the best deal.

Bundle and Save:

Consider booking your flights and accommodations together as a package. CheaperFly often offers substantial discounts to travelers who choose this option.

Fare Alerts and Notifications:

By signing up for fare alerts and notifications, you'll be among the first to know about price drops for your desired destinations. This proactive approach can save you a substantial amount.

Navigating the CheaperFly Platform

Using CheaperFly is a breeze, and it's designed to make your travel booking experience smooth and efficient. Here's a step-by-step guide to help you get the best out of the platform:

Start Your Search:

Begin by entering your departure and destination cities, travel dates, and the number of passengers.

Refine Your Search:

Utilize CheaperFly's filters to narrow down your options. You can sort by price, airline, and specific amenities to tailor your travel experience.

Compare and Choose:

Take your time to compare the available options and ensure you're getting the best value for your money.

Secure Your Booking:

Once you've found the perfect deal, follow the prompts to secure your booking. CheaperFly accepts various payment methods to accommodate your preferences.

Explore Extras:

Don't forget to explore additional services and perks that CheaperFly offers, such as car rentals or tour packages, to enhance your vacation experience.

Real Stories of Savings

But let's not just take our word for it; let's hear from travelers who've been able to save significantly with CheaperFly:

Ella:

"Thanks to CheaperFly, I finally took that dream trip I'd been saving for. I found a fantastic deal on my flight and had more money to spend on unforgettable experiences."

Jason:

"I was amazed at how easy it was to find last-minute deals using CheaperFly's fare alerts. I ended up saving a substantial amount on my vacation."

Sophia:

"As a busy mom, CheaperFly's user-friendly platform made it simple to plan a family getaway without emptying my wallet. I couldn't be happier with the savings."

A Peek into the Future

The future looks bright for CheaperFly. The platform is continually innovating to meet the evolving needs of travelers. Upcoming features include an even more intuitive interface, personalized travel recommendations, and an improved mobile app for convenient on-the-go bookings.

Beyond being a booking platform, CheaperFly is a community of like-minded travelers who share the belief that affordable vacations should be within everyone's reach. Join this community and be a part of the affordability revolution in the travel industry.

Conclusion

In a world where wanderlust knows no bounds, CheaperFly stands as a beacon of hope for those seeking affordable adventures. With its user-friendly platform and unwavering commitment to making travel accessible, it's no surprise that more and more travelers are turning to CheaperFly for their next journey.

[foxe]

Drop A Line

Matt x Reader (Female)

1.6k words

warnings: this was meant to be phone sex but its more phone sexy, with skinny dipping? my first fic ever let alone smxt/lemons lol but have fun besties feedback is welcome & appreciated xx

You smile into the phone, giggling to yourself while typing in the number to your favorite lawyer/vigilante. You know he’s got to be off doing his other job for the night, and with a bottle of whiskey empty in front of you and a devious mind you impatiently wait for his voicemail message to send you to the beep. You don’t know if it does, you’re too focused on remembering what you were going to say first when the line shows you’re connected.

“Matt,” you muse happily with a content sigh. “M’so…” you start through an exhale, laying across the couch and putting the phone on speaker despite having nobody on the other end to talk to. Finally, you giggle and finish your thought, “Drunk.” You set the phone on your coffee table while remembering the reason you wanted to leave a voicemail in the first place.

“Matty d’you remember the first night we got drunk together?” You grin at the memory. The cold, refreshing feeling of water, the cool summer night, and most specifically, how hot his skin felt against yours despite the cold of the lake surrounding you. “Skinny dipping,” you muse, “Haven’t done it since,” your hand fumble for an unopened bottle of whiskey to resolve the issue of your empty first one.

“I didn’t think you’d do it when they dared us,” you bite your lip as your stomach flutters at the thought. “And I think I only did it because of you,” you add honestly. Your mind wanders back to the way he tilted his head at the request. When his mouth pulled into that charming little smirk and he offered his hand, how could you say no?

“When we walked down to the lake you held onto my hand the whole way and I tried to lead you while plastered. Then you turned to me and whispered that everyone was watching us,” you interrupt your own story, taking a fresh swig from the whiskey. “I should’ve realized you had superpowers then, I think. Anyway, your hand played with the hem of my tee,” you recall, moving your hand to mindlessly replicate the same motion.

“I remember because you ran your fingers along my hip to grab it,” and as you mirror your words your heart rate, slowed from the grand amount of brown liquor, jolts alive. “I wanted to say I didn’t care if they were watching, I hoped they were,” you ramble, shaking your head to get back on your original train of thought.

“Then you bundled my shirt into your hand and pulled me closer and kissed me,” you sigh deeply as another flutter of anticipation shoots through your core. “It made me a little weak in the knees and your other arm wrapped around my waist. While you pushed the shirt up my back I raked my nails over your sides and pushed up your shirt too.” With a growing mischievous grin, you pick at the elastic waistband of your pajama shorts.

“I don’t remember how long it was before we were yelled at to go faster, but it didn’t feel like enough time.” Your hand comes to rest over your waistline and you wonder if he’d be able to hear what you were thinking about doing over the phone. Even if he wasn't, the thought was exhilarating.

“Once we finally got each other’s clothes off you grabbed my hand and walked me into the water. It was so chilly it shocked me at first. I remember immediately pulling myself into you and I could feel the goosebumps on you. Well, not just goosebumps,” you muse. It was the first time you had seen how well endowed he actually was. You thought you could get away with staring, but by now you were smart enough to know your heartbeat probably gave away your whole thought process to him.

Coming up from the water was (literally) a breath of fresh air. You both surfaced with laughter and wide smiles plastered onto your faces. You shoved him for pulling you down without a warning, and it got you into a splashing war. The people watching slowly got bored and went back inside to continue their game while you enjoyed yourselves, figuring you weren’t due back for a bit. And they were very right.

As the two of you finally stopped throwing water at each other, you kissed again. It was deeper, it was closer than the first time too. You were pressed chest to chest, taking in the warmth he offered you while your arms wrapped around his neck. His cock was prominently between the two of you and you remember distinctly the thought that ran through your head: Holy shit.

You didn’t realize it’s been a while since you’ve spoken until you hear Matt’s voice from your phone speakers.

“Well don’t stop there, you’re getting to the best part.” His voice sounds rough and the words come out with a sense of soft urgency, wanting you to continue. It’s the way he gets when he’s hot and bothered. You froze, not anticipating the intrusion. Yeah, you had called him but you were sure you got his voicemail.

Too stunned to really speak, you sputter into the phone. “I uh, well, we… uh-”

“When you finally stopped splashing me I could hear your heart again. Racing,” he says and you couldn’t help but note that this moment is no different. The effect this man has on you was astounding sometimes. “You looked at me and I heard it pick up even more. If I was sober I would have panicked and told you we had to go back inside.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had,” he says with a nostalgic sweetness in his voice. It makes you smile gently. “But I was so drunk I didn’t care.”

“Well I’m glad for that,” you say, “If you weren’t then we wouldn’t have kissed again.”

“A lot of things wouldn’t have happened,” he muses. You can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes you grin.

“So what happened next?” You ask innocently, and hear him laugh fondly.

“While we kissed you had your arms around my neck, a hand in my hair. You pulled on it and got me to moan,” you bite your lip while you listen to his voice. “And then you tried to wrap your legs around my waist but I kept you against me. I wasn’t ready to stop concentrating on the taste of what you’d drank that night, all the cherries you’d eaten to prove that you could tie the stem with your tongue—so sexy when described by Foggy, might I add,” he makes you giggle while you get lost in the memory once again.

“You remember a lot,” you say, eager to get him to move on.

“I was savoring every moment,” he quipped, obviously with a smile that you couldn’t see.

“Well then you definitely remember what happened after you stopped me from wrapping my legs,” You tease coyly.

“Remind me,” his breathy voice is alight with amusement.

“Come on Matty, you know. I brought my arm down under the water between us and wrapped my hand around your dick?” You hear the silence on the other end of the line and know that he’s hanging on your every word. “I started to pump my hand up and down and I leaned in real close to your ear. You remember what I said?” There’s a hitch in his breath before he answers you.

“Such a big boy,” he quotes and you swear you hear him moan after he says it. It’s getting a lot hotter in the room.

“You loved that,” you breathe out, smirking. “You bucked into my hand and you told me to say it again. When I did you bit my shoulder and dug your fingers into my hips.” He had left bruises that you looked at every day until they healed. They were a nice reminder.

“You loved it when I dipped my hand down to play with your clit.You made the hottest little noises and stroked me faster. I decided maybe I should let you do what you wanted and gave up on holding you down. It’s a shame we got cut short,” He said, and you sighed a little at the reminder. The parents of the kid who was hosting showed up to the lakehouse and kicked everyone out for the weekend. Foggy had run down with your stuff, making a big show of averting his eyes and making his presence known. You ended up leaving disappointed, and it was a quiet car ride home for the three of you.

“What would you have done if we hadn’t?” You ask, abandoning the bottle of whiskey while you lie back on your couch. There’s some rusling on his end that leads you to believe he’s readjusting too.

“What wouldn’t I have done?” He asked rhetorically and you blush knowing he’s probably thought about it before. It just turns you on more. “You really want to know?”

“Please,” you breathe out, eagerly awaiting his continuation.

“Well…”

[witch-hazels-musings]

Angst in coming. Diluc Zhongli and your pick being haunted by the SO they couldnt save.

Lingering Regret

Warning -> Only Angst (there isn’t a happy ending here, the reader is dead, all interactions are memories*, mentions of Kaeya (D), illness non-specific (Zh)) 

( i made myself cry ) 

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

Includes: Dainsleif, Diluc, Zhongli 

The ghosts of the past cling to our shadows and seep into our memories when we least expect them to. For some they can move on, they can be healed by the passing of time, but for others, it becomes a festering wound that will never seal. 

Dainsleif

He was no stranger to regret, absolutely everything in his life was a torturous experience. From the day he became the Bough Keeper to the night he failed them all, it was a memory burned in his mind for all eternity and as if he bore the weight of all of Teyvats karma he wove it into the fabric of his being 

There was nothing he thought could break him more, could lower himself further into the sinking sandpit that was his life - that was until the day he met you

Just how many years ago was it now. With the curse of immortality like a chain to a world he was obligated to avenge, it was growing harder and harder to remember you - but there were moments when he could see and those were the ones he longed to hold onto 

“Dainsleif, are you ready?” Your voice called down to him, his eyes flooded by the bright light that surrounded you as you patiently waited for him to climb the dark stairs. You followed him everywhere, much to his disagreement, but he had grown warm to your company. “The day won’t wait for us, you know.” 

The light was so bright, why was it hiding your face? Wait -- let me see your face, I can’t remember. Don’t … don’t leave. 

He blamed himself for your death - there was no one else who could have stopped it but him and, on the day you left this world to a place he had no way of reaching, was the day he stopped caring 

There were rumors of a man who took little to no payment for almost any job - 300 mora and he’d handle your issue. They called him “The soulless vessel” for he was void of any and all emotions 

How could he hold onto something that he didn’t understand anymore, how was he capable of experiencing a sensation that had no more purpose - he was nothing but a shell without you 

“Psst, Daini. Hey sleepy, wake up.” The sound of your laughter, let me hear it again.

“Silly, we can’t sleep forever, wake up.” The touch of your hands, oh I remember them now … were they always this small. 

“I guess we can rest a bit longer, you know I won’t mind.” Your lips, how could I have forgotten their warmth; I’ll let you remind me. 

“Dainsleif, I love you.” 

The birds pulled him from his dream, their chirping calls to each other a playful and carefree tune. He felt the warmth of the sun on his face, how it cast its glow across his lips but as the memory of his dream began to fade away he covered his eyes with his hand to hide the tears that disappeared into his hair.

“Forgive me …” 

 Diluc

Lingering ghosts loved to slip into the darkness that was Diluc Ragnvindr - when they fit so perfectly there, why wouldn’t they make him their home 

He had countless people close to him perish and each one was a direct result of his actions - his father, a slash of a blade, his brother, a clash of opposing elements, his values, a single dismiss of a hand, his friends, the darkness of the abyss and the hands of the Fatui -- there was nothing he let get close anymore because it was only a matter of time before he brought it crumbling to the pit of his existence 

How could he have been so naive - what was hope but a debilitating disease and yet you purged all of that from his mind every time you entered his space, every time you pushed your way past the walls he so expertly crafted -- you were the last thing he clung to, the last light he vowed to protect 

“You know, you don’t have to worry about me all the time, I’m more capable than you think.” You crossed your arms and gave him a cocky smirk, the bag of supplies resting at your feet as they waited for you to pick them back up again. It was only because of his hesitancy that they were there in the first place. 

“I have seen your capabilities many times, yes.” 

“So, what, you don’t trust me.” 

“That is far from the truth.” He looked at you for a moment before sighing in defeat. His hand reached for the bag and lifted it to your hands. “Do be careful, is all that I ask.” 

“You know I will.” With a bright smile, you took the pack and slung it over your shoulder. In your excitement, you turned toward the door before pausing as if you forgot something and when you hurled yourself back to him only to place a kiss on his lips, he felt the heat from his pounding heart rise into his cheeks. “See you soon, handsome.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

The distant and closed-off winery owner turned into a being of rage the day of your death. No matter how hard those closest to him tried to quell the wildfire that was his fury, they could only stand back and deal with the aftermath - The flame of Diluc’s devastation was so great that it left a permanent scar in Mondstadt and to this day the earth has yet to heal 

It was on him to protect you and he couldn’t, he wasn’t even there to try and he wasn’t sure what was worse - but one was for sure, the anguish he felt knowing you called out for him but he never came to save you ate him up inside. He wasn’t Diluc Ragnvindr anymore, he was no-one 

“Diluc! Come back!” Kaeya shouted but he couldn’t hear over the sound of the violent crashing and eerie nothingness in front of him. 

“Kaeya, don’t!” Another voice joined the noise but Diluc didn’t turn around. In front of him was the only answer to his shattered and empty heart. 

“Diluc please, they wouldn’t want this!” Kaeya reached for Diluc’s arm but the pressure and wind from the opening were so great it felt like a thousand anchors were strapped to his body. “Diluc!” 

Suddenly, there was silence. No noise, no sound but the world continued to whip around like a violent storm. Kaeya’s fingers touched the fabric of his brother's coat and, as Diluc turned his head to look back, tears were streaming down his face. It was strange to see Diluc’s lips moving as if he were saying something but there was nothing, an unbearable amount of nothing.

Riddled with fear, Kaeya extended his hand toward the rip in space and as soon as he felt the pulse of his vision escape his fingers, his others curled around Diluc’s jacket and flung him backward. In the settling explosion, the sound of the world slipped back in and as those who cared deeply for the man who no longer knew his name drew closer, the first thing they saw was his hunched-over body guarded by blue and the sound of his painful cries. 

Zhongli

To know suffering, to know loss was nothing new to the Geo Archon. For six thousand years he watched those close to him rise in greatness and fall in agony - for some they were thrust into death by a number of means and for others, well, his hands have never been clean 

Still, even if he had known what it was like to lose someone he loved, it was never easy and while he always knew the day would come when you left this world to walk a path he’d never know, it wasn’t something he expected so soon 

There were endless memories he couldn’t wait to make with you - the engraving your life into the notches of his soul, to be reminded of your face by simply turning around, to recall your wit with banter of his own, to be inspired by you every single day he stepped out the door -- why didn’t you stay 

“Welcome home, Zhongli.” You were already preparing the table with the teacups by the time he entered your home. It was elegant incarnate to watch you move around the room, to place everything so perfectly and properly that he wondered if you hadn’t been a spirit in another life. 

“I am home.” He reached for your waist and pulled you close, his smile setting yours off, and as the kettle began to sound he first greeted you with a heartwarming kiss. 

There are many things he can circumvent - his capabilities are endless but he found that no matter how strong a person is, there is one thing strength cannot beat 

To watch you slowly suffer was a torturous thing. Every day you grew weaker and weaker, your skin changed but the kindness of your smile outweighed it all until the day finally came ... 

A ceremony to send someone off is a beautiful thing, a celebration of their life while they kept it their own, a remembrance and blessing to hold strong every impact they made - but to Zhongli that day was laced with bitterness 

He made the arduous steps up the hillside. His legs carried him on even when nothing else of him felt the desire to do so. When he finally reached the peak, he prepared everything so skillfully as if he’d practiced this a thousand times, and it's possible he did for there was no end to his life even if he wished for it. 

“My dear, the flowers are blooming splendidly.” He set the burning incense by the weathered tombstone. It had faded and eroded over the years, but as he brushed the engraving with his fingers, he could still make out its marks. 

The chimes in the tree rang out as he poured a glass of tea before setting it against the small offering before you. “Ah, I can only hope you are able to see them from beyond the veil.” As he gazed out over the vast field, the sun illuminated the thousands of flowers that surrounded your grave, and, as he took a sip of his tea, he sighed contentedly before continuing, “Never worry, I shall cultivate more until you do. I know how fond you were of flowers.”

--

tag list:

@star-gods @mercurysmaiden @dourpeep @clemmywrites @handswritteeen @musekala @mooshymello @glazelilyy @twokissesforamelia @angel-melt @lucacandy @marianadi @smol-knife @nightlywallows @aoirohi @mguerra11 @lucy-roo @maiiikoo @nonniechan @tempehlust @zenith-impact @plumpkie @jaggedsi @salty-salty @onlyhereforinteractivestories @liebestraumss @jaemjenjam @softlybeloved @anatthesavage @mkazuyuh @excitedlysuffering @kaidou-pie @yujiia @cytomegalia @natxxu @fvushiguros @nua-fromliyue @nightlywallows @yoshikuno @anonymousficreader @cyphermagic @chichikoi @akira-kiryu 

[subwaysurf45]

Back Into the Swing of Things

summary: Bucky is finally stable and after your friendship turns into a relationship, Bucky asks you to teach him about the little things. (set around civil war)

words:  3355

warning: legit none just fluff!

pairing: bucky x reader

Masterlist

You were sat at the little desk in your room, your music was blasting through your headphones as you nodded your head to the beat. It was paperwork day, the worst day. For some reason it was a busy time or missions which meant mission reports, you liked to just bang them out all at once for one day every couple of weeks. Some people did them right after but the little notes you take in your journal allow you to wait a bit and then do five at once. The plate that used to have a sandwich was now empty, Bucky brought it by because he knew it was your day and if he stayed around you it would most likely lead to Bucky trying to pull you into bed for snuggles. He’d claim you’d look too cozy to be doing work, you'd wear one of his shirts and maybe some pants.

With a sigh you lean back in your chair, a couple pops coming for your back. “Four outta five…” you muttered to yourself as you took the papers and stacked them on the other reports. As you reached for the final one there was a knock on the door, “come in, Bucky.” You called over your shoulder.

“How’d you know it was me?” Bucky slipped through the doorway, he walked over and spun your chair around.

“Your knock is very polite,” was all you said. It was true, he’d knock loud enough to be heard but not too loud to seem demanding.

“Thanks…?” Bucky sat on the edge of your bed, “I wanted to ask you something,” Bucky looked to the floor.

“Talk to me,” You cheered and gave your full attention.

“I have a list of things in my notebook, just stuff I don't get- like understand. Would you mind helping and explaining some stuff?” His face was red and his eyes looked down, it was painfully obvious he was embarrassed.

“Sure,” You shrugged and Bucky smiled. He got up and went to get the book.

Debit Card Machine 

Bucky was sitting across from you at a small diner, you went after rush hour to give yourself space and also Bucky doesn’t like crowded and loud spaces. Bucky had gotten a B.L.T. and you got something similar but you’d never been here before so you weren’t exactly sure what was in it- but it was good.

The waitress came by, the uniform was very retro like the rest of the place. It wasn’t way back to the 40’s more late 80’s early 90’s, Bucky had said he liked coming here because of the jukebox even though that was way past his time. He found it easier than an iphone, which was on his list of things to learn.

“Coffee or tea?” the lady asked.

“No, just the bill please,” You smiled at her, she nodded and walked away. Bucky got up and moved to sit beside you because he didn’t want to learn by looking at the thing upside down, the debit card itself was slightly conquered territory but he had the idea.

“And you said this was on your phone as well?” Bucky picked up the card and looked at it, his fingers running over the numbers that were lifted.

“You have to connect your card and all that to your phone so you just hover over the machine and it’ll pay.” You mimed the action of paying with your phone over nothing for Bucky to get the gist.

The machine showed up and you explained all the buttons, the waitress seemed confused because Bucky looked your age, she would have expected a guy to know how this works but she also kept her distance like most waitresses do.

“So you put your card in, the chip end goes in,” you showed. “Then you make sure the price matches the one on the receipt, if it does then you hit ‘ok’,” you did hit ‘ok’. “Then you have to tip, I personally go the percentage route so I’d click the far left button,” It made a sound when you did. “Now, depending on the service you can tip a different amount, I go fifteen percent as a baseline but she was really nice so I’ll tip twenty.” you typed it in, Bucky had a shocked face.

“Twenty dollars, that’s another meal!” He whispered, trying not to let the lady hear; she did.

“Twenty percent, our total goes from eighteen-tirty to twenty-forty five,” You showed the number again, then you clicked okay and proceeded to type in your four digit number. Bucky watched over your shoulder and tried to remember it all, when you were showing things at home he’d take notes and have a couple diagrams to remember it all but his notebook was no longer in sight. You glanced down after giving the machine back to see him rolling the book onto itself under the table, Bucky shoved it into his back pocket when you both got up to leave.

“Do you mind going over it again when we get home?” Bucky asked as he held your hand, the Avenger tower in sight.

“Of course,” you left a little kiss on his cheek.

Cooking Bacon

You didn’t remember reading this when you first went over the list. Granted, there was tons of stuff on Bucky’s list. It seemed he added it on later, like he watched Wanda cook and had a little idea to add. Either way, you both were in the kitchen in front of the stove. You both had aprons on, yours was a nice navy blue while Bucky’s read: ‘kiss the cook’. He wanted the navy one but then lost a game of rock, paper, scissors.

The pan was heating up on the stove, you had the lid ready beside it on the counter. Bucky seemed nervous because of the idea of the grease spitting out at him, he was starting to stand slightly behind you or away from the stove in an area he thought he wouldn’t get hit. “Alright,” you clapped your hands together after feeling over the pan to check the temperature. “We are gonna cook four pieces, so I’m gonna take them out of the package,” You were careful around the stove because Bucky seemed extremely nervous for you. He kept making little ‘peep’ing noises like he was about to say ‘watch out’ or something but decided against it, it was cute.

You put in two and then Bucky came over to put the others in, he was so leaned back he could barely get the bacon strips into the pan. On the last strip he haphazardly dropped it in, this caused the grease to spray back. A couple bits landed on your arm but a few more hit Bucky.

“Fuck!” He jumped back as you went to cover it quickly. The lid steamed up in seconds. Bucky was at the sink, washing his arm off. “Does it, like, burn through stuff?”  His tone was so concerned but you couldn't help but laugh at the question.

“No, you’re safe,” you nodded. Bucky came back over and stood right behind you, his chin nestled on your shoulder as you waited a bit. His arms circled around your torso and he also watched the pan, he didn’t know what to look for per se, but he did it anyways. “This should be good,” you stepped forward which caused Bucky to let go. “We’re gonna lift the lid and start to flip them, alright?” You grabbed the tongs and clicked them a few times, it was a thing you always did.

“Let’s go,” Bucky’s voice wanted to sound excited but he was slightly scared.

You lifted the lid and stood off to the side, quickly but calmly you flipped the pieces over and then covered the lid. “So, we give that time, then we'll take the lid off and just move them around and flip them more, you can do that,” You smiled over your shoulder to see Bucky writing something down. It was cute how much he cared about the little things, you’d never been taught how to cook bacon or cooking in general, it was something you just found yourself doing.

Bucky took the tongs and went for it, he lifted the lid and went straight into flipping them. After he found they weren’t spitting back he seemed to loosen up, his shoulders rolled back and he seemed to find a comfortable position. He was looking over to you for any tips but you stood there with a smile on your face, he was actually doing a good job.

You got out a plate and paper towel, Bucky transferred the strips over. He watched you pat them down with a paper towel, this was something you adopted into your life because you weren’t the biggest fan of all the grease.

“This is a big part, so listen up,” Bucky looked over from eating one of his two pieces. “Write this down, never and I mean never pour this grease down the sink- ever.” Bucky had the piece of meat sticking out of his mouth as he scribbled it down, he hummed and nodded to let you know he got it. “There is a can under the sink, grab it for me, please?” You picked up the pan but stayed over the stove, Bucky came back with an open can. There was nothing in it except congealed grease, he seemed grossed out but you were used to it. “Dump it in here after it’s cool but not solidified, just don’t pour it down the sink.” You poured the stuff in and left it on the counter to cool off, Bucky finally bit down on the piece of bacon before handing over your two pieces.

“I think that went well,” Bucky nodded, he leaned against the counter with a tired sigh. You didn’t have to heart to make fun of him for being scared of the grease, he seemed proud of himself. So you just stood beside him and rested your head on his shoulder, “good job, Buck.”

Skin Care

Bucky was the type of boyfriend to sit in the bathroom and just watch you put on or take off your makeup, he was truly put under a trance when he would watch you. In the beginning he’d ask questions or ask what you were doing and why, but now he had watched you so much he’d pass you the tube of mascara as you finished on your brows.

Your skin had adapted to a long and specific routine, this was your time for about ten minutes before bed to fully unwind and have some quiet. You would rotate products and skip over some of the serums each night but there were the basics you were going to teach Bucky: Wash, tone, moisturize.

Before you went to the drug store you asked Bucky about his skin, he really had no idea what you were talking about and half the time he’d shrug it off. “I don’t pay attention to my skin,” was a common phrase. You lightly touched his face and felt his T-zone, he joked that sometimes if he opened his mouth really wide his skin would feel super tight and dry.

“So then you have dry skin,” you said. Thinking of the products to get him, Bucky didn’t have acne, it was more for cleaning the skin and keeping it healthy.

“I think,” Bucky really felt like a pain. He was trying to help you out so you could find good products but all he was giving was half answers, ‘ya, I guess’ or ‘I think so’.

But currently you both were standing in the bathroom, it was right before bed and Bucky adjusted his headband for about the hundredth time. He said it was too tight but you knew he was being a baby about it, his hair was also pulled back into a bun.

“We are gonna wash our face,” You showed how warm the water should be before splashing your face. Bucky copied right after, and awkwardly leaned forward to make sure water didn’t drip on the floor after while he waited for you to move on. “Now we are gonna wash our face, so take that bottle with the blue cap and put a bit in your hand. A little goes a long way,” You added and did the same, both faces in the bathroom were sudsy and ready. Bucky went in first to wash it off, his hands cupping under the tap and collecting as much water as he could before leaning right in to wash off his face. He did it twice.

“Pat dry?” He remembered you saying that before. His hands held the fresh towel, you hummed in response because your face was in water. Bucky patted and gently rubbed around, when you stood up you dried off as well. Both faces were damp, Bucky looked at the little water droplets running down your neck before turning back to the task at hand. “Toner- don't tell me, I know this one!” He grabbed your arm, “red cap?” His face lit up with joy as you nodded, “I got this!” He cockily laughed, he knew what he was doing.

Bucky took the little cotton round and drizzled some of the toner around on it, he passed one over to you before making one for himself. Bucky leaned in and got super close to the mirror, he watched intently as you rubbed your face. He copied, it was like the cotton pad was barely touching his face. The last thing he cleaned was his nose before pulling the cotton away, he scanned over the pad and saw the gross residue.

“Ew, that was on my face?” Bucky was enchanted by the pad, holding it super close to see the leftover dirt. You had already thrown away the pad, it made you giggle to see Bucky so hypnotized by literal oil and dirt.

“Moisturizer, final step for you,” You sang. “I like to pick it up with my knuckle, like this,” You unscrewed the lid and tapped your pointer finger knuckle to the opaque, soft cream. Bucky took his new one and did the same. He wiped it into the palm of the opposite hand, “rub it around, heat it up before putting it on,” He did just that. “You’re a pro, Buck!” You giggled as Bucky meticulously put it on. He was applying it upwards and spreading it evenly around, his fingers gently dancing across his face as the cream worked its way in.

“How do I look?” He turned to you.

“Like you’re glowing.”

“I feel like it,” Bucky laughed and looked back at the mirror. He tilted his head around to see how his skin would look under the light in the bathroom, he seemed to forget you were there and was completely in awe of what he did. Bucky brought his fingers to his face to feel around, the moisturizer had set and now his skin looked full and plump. The pads of his fingers gently tapped his cheeks and made the shimmer on his cheekbones move and twinkle.

“Alright, that’s enough admiring yourself,” you laughed and pushed him out of the way. Bucky stayed to watch you finish up your routine.

Record Player

As a way to say thanks for helping Bucky with over fifty niche things, Bucky decided to teach you how to properly use a record player.

This wasn’t any old player, this was Bucky’s player. No one was allowed to touch it without permission and even though you have never gotten the green light, you asked almost every week. This was one of the only things Bucky could really hold onto, when he touched the dark, stained wood he could almost see himself back in the 40’s; almost.

He once got really mad at the beginning of your friendship, you really didn’t know it was his, you just thought it was a talking piece. Bucky ended up yelling at you, he had just changed the needle and you were running your finger on it to see how small it was. Steve had ran in because Bucky was yelling- it was a whole ordeal that ended with Bucky not talking to you for three months.

But now there was trust and Bucky liked that after that little fiasco you didn’t even think to touch it, he could really trust you and now was a great time to show off his favourite thing. Bucky was all giddy to show his record player off to you, you were grabbing some water before he started and you noticed Bucky was using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe off a smudge before going back to inspect it.

“Alright, let’s start!” Bucky smiled. This man didn’t start with the parts and what they do, he started with the history of it all. Bucky pulled all the facts he knew about record players in general and the vintage one that was sitting in front of the both of you, his eyes seemed to light up with each new fact that popped into his mind. Part of you wanted to check your watch but you also had never seen this man get passionate over an object before, he could get passionate over people- you, Steve, Sam, etc. -but never over this. “Are you ready to play music?” He reached over into his bin and pulled a record you’ve never seen.

“Which one’s that?” You asked as Bucky pulled it out of it’s sleeve.

“It’s just a random one I picked up a week ago for this,” Bucky held the record the proper way. “Thumb on the center and index on the edge, don’t touch the actual grooves because the oils in your hands can clog them up,” Bucky moved his hand around to show you.

“Sorry, what do you mean you bought that record for this? And why does the needle look different?” you noticed the needle looked extremely worn, it looked great and new a couple days ago.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky dismissed it. “So now we are gonna place the record softly,” Bucky placed it down and turned back to you. He talked about the arm and the needle before showing you how to put it on manually and then with the little leaver, after showing them each way twice he stepped back and offered you a turn.

“Seems easy,” you mumbled and took the arm, you were doing it manually first. The movements were extremely soft and slow, when the needle made contact it took half a second before a really grainy sound came through the speakers. It sounded wrong but Bucky nodded, he applauded you for taking the needle off as well. Then you did it with the leaver, right when it was about to touch you thought it looked off so you nudged it a bit- bad idea. The needle didn’t even hit the record and part of the arm scratched the recessed vinyl. “Shit!” You yelled and ripped it off. Causing the record to scratch, the sound and the record itself, there was a shine to the edge. “Oh god! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to mess it all up- I really didn’t mean to break it- god, you must so ma- I’m sorry-” as you fumbled over yourself Bucky just started to laugh. “What?” you were about to cry because of the guilt.

“That was a sixties record and a needle that is five years old, you didn't do anything. I bought it because I knew this was bound to happen.” Bucky only laughed at your exasperated sigh, you fell into his hug like a child. “Poor baby,” he mockingly cooed, he found it so funny how you were screaming apologies at him even though it was painfully obvious it was a shit record and needle.

“That was scary, I think I need a nap after that…” you sighed.

Bucky threw you over his shoulder, “thinking the same thing, doll.

[shotorozu]

first touches in the relationship

[— ˚✧₊⁎ 1.6k followers milestone]

character(s) : multiple characters

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, strong quirk; the details aren’t very specific though

fluffy as hell, not even mildly spicy (maybe like a grain but its not too much)

note(s) : head empty, just me thinking about the first casual touches in your relationship with the bnha boys :)) also thank you for 1.6k 🤍 it’s not that big of a number like 5k or 10k but thinking about that number is just.. wow.

part two will be made !

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

↠ the first touch was merely unintentional, but it was almost as if you were thrusted into the wonderful spring breeze.

↠ as per usual, izuku was going on his word spewl, talking passionately as he walked beside you. then that’s when you felt it, his finger tips grazing against your palm. if you moved your hand just a little bit, your hand would be pressing against his tenderly. his cheeks turned red in realization, apologizing profusely— as if he was thinking that you’d never want to hold his hand after that. yet, you didn’t seem to care a lot, because you enlaced your hand around his as a response. the first touch would’ve made him jump around, exclaiming in joy, but the urge to memorize the details of your hand was persistent.

todoroki shouto

↠ it was warm like the gentles embers of a calm fire, yet it still ran chills down your spine. it was unexpected but not at all unintentional

↠ sitting right next to you, could only stare at you lovingly— as you went on and on about something to your friends about something happened the day before. it wasn’t like this was anything new. shouto always listened to you speak, he could call it therapeutic from the amount of times he sat down, and just listened. yet his mind goes wild as if he was still pinning over you. so, briefly after realizing he’s dating you, he found his fingers dancing along your wrist, treaking upwards to your palm. he allows himself to activate his quirk ever so slightly, just enough to the point you could feel yourself growing flustered by the way his index and middle finger carresses your palm. your sudden change of demeanor only leaves your friends confused, but it makes you feel warm on the inside.

bakugou katsuki

↠ it felt exactly how his quirk is, explosive, warm, and quite loud. but don’t be misguided by the sound of that

↠ though he started dating you, he still acted like you were any other person in his class, but that nothing unexpected. he was yelling cooking instructions at you, complaining about the way you chop up vegetables, or the way you kneeded cookie dough. he rolls his eyes, and he complains a lot about your methods— but in reality, it gave him quite a big opening to stand behind you, putting his hands ontop of yours as he guides you, muttering something about being the only person that could teach you right. his words are brass, sure. but his touch on your hands are warm, and gentle surprisingly, and you choose to ignore the initial roughness. katsuki also chooses to rub his thumb against the back of your hand, but it’s so subtle. and he can’t help but smirk when he realizes that you’re reacting quite positively to the first touch.

kirishima eijirou

↠ it felt like a breath of fresh air.

↠ ua will forever be known for it’s hectic schedules, and the highest in difficulty when it comes to catching up with almost anything. you must work hard to move to the next level, graduate, then debut, and then hopefully get at least to the top 15. you honestly need a breather, but luck for you! you have the affection of kirishima eijirou. noticing your stress levels reaching a high, he’ll offer you a massage— and he most likely won’t think about the fact that he’s going to be putting his hands along your back. a sigh of relief escapes your lips when he presses his hands against that one stubborn knot. the first touch would’ve flustered him, if it weren’t for the fact that you look so relaxed, and it feels like you’re not being suffocated. his hand rest against your shoulder blades at some point, and he pauses. stopping to pepper small kisses against your shoulders. you make a point to reward him with warm cuddles and kisses afterwards, and he’s just so glad that he spent this first touch by making you feel comfortable.

sero hanta

↠ it was a fortunate, yet unfortunate situation to be in

↠ you were training with sero, completely ignoring the butterflies that were having discourse in your stomach. training with your boyfriend excited you to the brim, but it would be expected that his tape stuck to you at some point, but it was stuck everywhere. it was relatively hard to take off the tap without accidentally irritating your skin. but you’re blessed with sero’s cool and laid back demeanor. he walked towards you and gently began tampering with the tape on the palm of your hand. the way he held your hand with his free hand, and the fact that he was so close didn’t seem to prevent any heat from rushing to your cheeks. he coaxes you to relax, cupping your face as he removes the tape sticking to you. realizing the short distance he had with you came to a close, his face changes in realization, and he’s just chuckling at the situation. though it wasn’t the way he imagined it the first touch to be spent, he could say it’s memorable. for once, he’s glad that his tape stuck to you like lifeline.

kaminari denki

↠ the first touch was electrifying, but the intent was shy of anything bold. which is definitely off coming from kaminari denki

↠ you’ve been best friends with kaminari for a while, prior to him asking you out while on a sugar rush. that seemed to be the start of that, but despite being an actual flirt, he made zero attempts to be physically affectionate. that was, until he drapped his arm around your shoulder on the couch. you guys were just joking around, and he seemed to want to shoot his shot. the action was electrifying, his hand resting against your shoulders, rubbing tenderly as he attempted to continue whatever he was saying. but denki thought he was so slick, yet his cheeks immediately ingulfed in red, and he was stammering at the short distance between you two. you just laugh at his reaction, and pull him closer— hand ontop of his.

shinsou hitoshi

↠ the first touch was calming, it made you go into a state of serene. but it wasn’t enough to bore you, or lul you to sleep.

↠ similar to todoroki, he sat beside you— listening to you speak about his sleeping habits. you weren’t mad, of course. but you were just concerned about him, which made his heart swell. but it seemed to be that he sidetracked, because he became painfully aware of your hand resting on the chair. your words only becoming a blur. discreetly, his hand rested on top of yours briefly, and it seemed to be okay, after all— you guys are dating. his thumb brushing against your palm, finger dancing along your skin. his fingers dragged upwards and upwards, from your wrist, to forearm, and then to the spot connecting from your neck and collarbone. your chest rising up and falling down calmly, as he began adjusting your uniform’s collar. “your collar was a little off,” he comments, not being able to not kiss your jawline softly, pleased by his affects on you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, and use my works for audio readings without my permission :))

[pettyrevenge-base]

Insult your head closer instead of give a raise? Yeah, sure, there's no way that'll backfire.

In the late 90's I worked at a Subway restaurant; specifically closing shift. That'll be relevant later. At the time I was paid somewhere between 7 and 8 bucks an hour, a good chunk more than minimum wage, and had me bringing my A game every day. I knew it was "just fast food", but I took pride in my work. I showed up early, always covered when people called in, followed the recipes (even the really anal stuff like two slices of black olive per 6" sub unless the customer specifically requests more, etc.) By all accounts, I was a model employee. Plus since I worked alone I was the de facto shift supervisor. That's gotta be worth something. I figured I'd ask the regional manager for a raise. (Store manager didn't have the authority.) The worst he can do is say no, right?

Wrong.

Turns out the worst he can do is insult me and everyone else that works there. He was in one day and I made my pitch. He just went off on me, raising his voice shy of a full yell and saying something like "If you were worth more, you wouldn't be working here. You're replaceable, now go away and don't ever speak to me again. I'm the regional manager, and I'm actually important, you just make sandwiches and scrub toilets." Again, not the exact words, but he did make those points quite clearly. I remember being shocked into silence at such a cartoonish display of arrogance coming out of a balding middle-aged man. First time I'd ever encountered a .50 caliber douchebag. I didn't even specify an amount, I just asked for a raise. He could've given me a nickel, or even made something up like "I'm sorry wages are set by corporate, I can't do it" and while I'd have been disappointed I'd have accepted it. But no, his response to the very concept of any raise was a pretentious, self-righteous indictment against the value of every Subway employee that wasn't management. Or probably him specifically. I'd genuinely enjoyed working there, right up until that watershed moment.

OK Cheese-Dick, if that's how you want it, fine. I'll get mine, one way or another. I take pride in my work, but 7-something an hour isn't enough to engender any further loyalty after you so flippantly insulted me and everyone working for you.

Up until that point I had been meticulous about everything I did at work. Like I mentioned earlier closing shift was a one-man show, which meant I had no supervision. My effectiveness was judged based on the accuracy of my inventory numbers, counting my till, my clock-out times, and whether everything was in order when the openers arrived in the morning. I knew a few tricks to offset inventory, which allowed me to take home food without it being noticed. (Ring up a small soda as a cheese round since they were both 89 cents, etc.) On a good night I'd take home a dozen or more footlong subs. On a bad night, I'd just make sandwiches with the loaf of bread I brought from home. I'd also bring in a bunch of empty bottles or jugs, and fill them from the fountain after clocking out. I'd dump entire cambros full of meat, veggies and cheese into a bag to take home. Sometimes I'd bake an oven full of cookies with the express purpose of taking them, if I could do so without using up the rest of a box. (Because a box with one raw cookie was counted the same as an unopened box.)

The moment he made it clear what I was worth to him, I started looking for a different job. If he'd given me a token 3% cost of living increase, it'd have amounted to maybe 25 cents per hour. They had me working around 30-35 hours a week, just below "full time", so it would've amounted to under 9 bucks a week. Hell, he could've even offered a sincere apology and no raise and I would've kept on with it.  Instead for the last few months I worked there, every single night I took home what probably amounted to a couple hundred dollars worth of potential sales. Every. Single. Night.

At the time my friends and I, being late teens/early 20's, were still in the party phase of our lives. So every night I worked for those last months I'd roll up just as the party was getting wild, with a bunch of sandwiches, cookies, gallons of soda, etc. Those few months doing the bare minimum and sponging off that dead-end job were way more satisfying than giving my all for 7 and change for an insufferable bag of septic slop.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge