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#SO proud of all my former students :)))
notasapleasure · 24 days
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oh SHIT hi. Hi.
I knew you were on tumblr but I remember asking if you were [blog] once and remember the look of fear even though that wasn't you but you knew them and I was a bit worried I'd driven you off tumblr. Good to know that wasn't the case!
Also shit, I did not expect to be rumbled that quickly.
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maxwellatoms · 12 days
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Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.
1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.
2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?
3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?
4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?
5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?
Okey dokey.
1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.
Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.
The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.
Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.
A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.
I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.
Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.
Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.
2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?
It's the only way to get anything done, currently.
The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".
It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.
There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.
Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.
3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?
I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)
The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.
Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.
Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.
I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.
Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?
You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.
To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.
4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?
The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.
I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.
Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.
I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.
The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.
5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?
There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.
The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.
---
So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.
Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.
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grimesgirll · 1 month
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can you do rickyl x reader where she gets jealous and gives them attitude🙏
ninety-eight hours it’s been since rick and daryl left for what was supposed to be a “dry” supply run.
another hour and you think you’re going to simply die from the wanton ache in your cunt and the paranoia creeping with every passing minute.
you hate when they go away. it’s the worst. but it’s what your lovers have to do if your community wants amoxicillin and food that‘s not canned peas or tuna. the only bigger drag than you losing out on a few nights of getting the stress fucked out of you and mornings with tender wake up calls; that cool new girl went with them.
just a few weeks ago, daryl and aaron had discovered a former phd student wandering the outskirts of shenandoah national park. the twenty-eight year old had been walking from her biology program in new jersey in an attempt to reach her family’s house in norfolk, virginia.
back to alexandria, she brought a backpack, some stories, and a green haze to your vision.
within a week, you’re wishing daryl and aaron hadn’t brought her back. the worst part is that you really can’t speak on it with anyone because you’ll sound like a jealous bitch, which you kinda are. it’s not your fault that you don’t know shit about how to age a deer or microorganisms or macroinvertebrates or interesting biology major jargon that gets rick and daryl’s attention.
you didn’t finish your degree. the apocalypse had made sure of that. yeah, this girl’s thesis defense had been cancelled but she already had two degrees and a fucking certificate.
yeah, daryl doesn’t have a degree. but this girl’s family grew up hunting - proud turkey hunters, she’d specified after daryl asked her about her turkey shotgun. they hit it off so well that she’d even gone on a few hunts with him. you refused to eat the pheasant she shot. when she came into your kitchen proudly touting a half butchered boar, you simply narrowed your eyes, turned to rick next to you, and asked if you should take chances eating wild boar meat after the prison.
let’s just say you can’t stand her.
it’s not rational and it’s surely not healthy but you can’t bring yourself to address it in any meaningful way. all you can do is smolder. and that’s exactly what you do when rick and daryl come through the gates, fully engaged in a conversation with her.
“find what you need?”
you’re walking up to the three as soon as they pass you. rosita had been chatting you up and you assumed that your boys would come over and greet you with at least a kiss but no! they’re walking past you with her. the perfect, perpetually prepared girlscout that makes you want to tear your hair out.
two twin pairs of blue eyes find yours and daryl’s eyes are overflowing with longing, but before they can even say hello, she’s in your face, greeting you and handing off some seed packets she’d found
what a bitch.
almost turning your nose at her, you instead decide to accept the packets without a thank you. you make a beeline straight for rick, leaning up on your tippy toes to capture his tongue, wrapping an arm around his neck to lower him into your embrace. every ounce of waiting and wanting is spilled onto rick’s lips. you kiss him a bit too fervently for a welcome back kiss at your community’s gates. it’s an abuse of power on your part.
it’s dramatic. it’s theatrical.
it’s just as bad when you do the same thing to daryl, attaching yourself to his side as the newest addition to alexandria clears her throat and continues on about the supplies they managed to secure on their “dry” run. specifically, some supplies for her to try to solo it again - but this time - finally land in norfolk. you know that rick and daryl were out there - away from you - for more than just some glorified grad student’s get home bag but every second that she drones on has you yearning for her to pack her bags tonight.
“so, once my wrist is fully healed. i’ll be out of here.”
“thank god!”
rick’s eyebrow raises and if daryl could go quieter, he would.
the walk back to your house alone in alexandria is awkward.
the scene you’d caused had rick giving you a look that told you if you didn’t quit digging now, you’d end up in a trench of conflict. not just being at odds with the newcomer, but rick’s lack of patience for this kind of behavior from you. that doesn’t stop you from starting again as soon as they enter the bedroom.
“neither of you came over to say hi to me when you got in the gates.”
it’s the first thing out of your mouth once the door has shut. your arms are folded over your chest and you’re glaring at them like you didn’t just put on a grand display and snub the girl staying down the street. eyes focused on them, you’d be hard pressed to tell that you even could even name the other girl.
“so you’re gonna skim past talkin’ to her like that?” rick’s giving you that same you can’t be serious look he sends your way when you’re brattin’ out like this.
“i said my thoughts out loud. sorry.”
“ain’t you got no filter?”
“no, daryl,” you reply, looking up at them from the soft bed. your hands dig into the mattress. “that overnight “dry” run turned into the entire weekend and the first thing you guys do is stroll in with her and not say hi.”
“why do you care so much? she’s leavin’ soon.” daryl reminds you, fighting a yawn.
you frown. “you guys relate to her more.”
rick guffaws and daryl’s eyes are rolling.
“what? you think she’s flirtin’ knowin’ how to catch herself a fuckin’ meal.”
“but she’s older than me.”
“not by much, honey,” rick dismisses your concern.
the downtrodden look on your face is unmistakable. you’re quiet, considering how to justify your jealousy when you feel a tear coming on. daryl notices when you try to blink it away and is the first to drop the bone the two were picking with you. he’s next to you, a hand on your waist and your thigh, and that’s when you exhale in frustrated, exasperation, “you were gone for four days and you couldn’t even say hi to me.” you’re shaking your head, knowing it’s dumb. “its not nice but it just got me so angry.” you almost omit this last part but the borderline law enforcement stare you’re receiving from rick has you candid. “i just needed you guys to come up and kiss me - or something after not knowing if you were alive or not. the run went too long. got me worked up.”
“and you think you deserve to get fucked first thing after pullin’ that shit?”
you bite your lip. rick can read you too well. really, there’s nothing to discuss.
did you really think they would lose interest in you that easily? or is this just a ploy to work them up too? to cash in on the good, hard fucking you know they’d subject you to if you turned up your brat factor for their return. it’s downright devious but who are they to deny the smoldering opportunity falling in their laps?
“can you be a good girl?”
you nod, not breaking eye contact as he slips his thumb into your mouth while undoing his pants with the other hand. “maybe we can get this to do somethin’ useful, huh?”
daryl stays quiet but the smirk as he watches you lick rick clean tells you that he has an idea. he’s full of ideas, most of which involve stuffing you full in some capacity but just from bud reaction to the scene that unfolded, you know he’s in a teasing mood. too feverous and on the same page as rick about your jealousy to give you the fucking you want straight away.
there’s probably a bit more of explaining that you need to do but when rick says, “hands and knees,” you’re forgetting all about the better educated woman and getting into place on the plush bed. the brief scowl on your face can’t be missed but it doesn’t matter because you automatically open your mouth wider once you’re faced with rick’s too-big-for-your-mouth cock.
you’re so focused on rick that the stripe being licked down your slit from behind has you choking on rick in surprise. the constable groans at your tight throat clenching around him.
“missed this pussy,” daryl’s gruff voice against your cunt brings you back to reality. the reality where he’s flicking his tongue over your already aching, swollen bud.
so that’s what that tear was, you deduce, suddenly aware of your missing panties.
“you’re overthinkin’,” rick says says with a hand in your hair. “you belong to us. we belong to you.”
“yeah, no new girl’s gonna come between us.” daryl assures you, breathing lust into your cunt. “gotta get out of yer’ fuckin’ head.” daryl chimes, not even giving his tongue a break when it wasn’t on your clit. “i finally get someone with a brain to go huntin’ with and your first thought is that i wanna fuck ‘em.”
rick smirks down at you, mouth too stuffed full of cock to deny any of it. he runs a hand through your hair and eases up on your throat, growing impossibly harder at the sight of his thick dick against your glossy, shining lips. a hand finds your chin and his cock falls from your mouth. “you better not forget that you’re made for us. don’t want no one else but you.” his cock jumps at the way your pupils grow from his lust induced speech. “you’re ours. that pussy’s in the shape of our cocks. beautiful brain’s all wrapped up in us, like we’re wrapped up in you.”
you could cream at his words. any minute you’re going to on daryl’s tongue. back as forth, the younger man is sliding his tongue all over your clit. he even dips the appendage inside of you to tongue around and spur rick into thrusting his cock back into your mouth so he can enjoy your needy whimpers around him.
“so fuckin’ good for us, baby. like she never could be.” rick huffs, chocolate curls falling back with his head.
all you can do is moan around him in response. daryl doesn’t let you process rick’s words because you’re too busy processing the overload of pleasure he’s inducing in you. you writhe back against him, canting your hips into his mouth just as rick twitches in yours.
your hips are bucking and you almost fall forward on rick when daryl triggers your toe curling release, savoring in the ooze as he laps your weeping cunt. tears well at your waterlines with rick’s cock bulging in the cheeks of your mouth. those tears spill with the rush of energy in your cunt. spasming and clenching, leaking onto the devoted tongue seeing you through.
“hope this holds you over,” rick remarks, pulling his still aching cock out of your mouth while glancing over at daryl happily cleaning up your release with his tactful tongue. “‘cause you’re gonna’ be sore after tonight, darlin’. whatever you need to get it in that pretty little head of yours that you’re ours, and don’t need to worry about anything or anyone else.”
as your first orgasm of the night fades and the shaking in your legs pauses, there’s a post-climax clarity that hits you like a truck. you’d be face down on the bed trying to pretend you didn’t exist if not for the hands eliciting the most vibrant whinnies from you, twisting your pleasure receptors like play-doh. you’re not far from coming again and that’s the only thing saving you from the shame of how you treated the newcomer. it wasn’t kind. wasn’t rational. treating her so poorly because of how well she worked with your men. greek gods killed insolent hosts who disrespected their guests, what would rick and daryl do to you for snubbing one of the last polite people on this rotting rock?
being well rounded isn’t a crime, you remind yourself.
and your men don’t need to remind you again with words how much you mean to them. that your jealousy is unfounded but they want to kiss you better anyway. it doesn’t matter if it takes all night, they’ll be reminding you exactly where and who they want to be with.
with you being made for them, how could they want anyone else?
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personne-reblogs · 1 year
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AUTISTIC SWEEP
The shouts of the crowd are fading into white noise. 
The curtains are closing. 
The lights are dimming. 
The air still feels filled with static, though. 
This is a fight Donatello had known he couldn’t win, logically. The competition had been all fun and games, but this challenger was another story. No amount of support or hype could make up for such a gap; the bone deep certainty didn’t leave room for hard feelings. 
Struggling to catch his breath, battle shell against the wall, Donatello looks up from where he’s been getting some rest - not passed out rest, mind you. More like a beauty nap.
He lets out a genuine chuckle. 
Shigeo Kageyama is simply standing there, as he has been for most of the fight. 
“Sweet Marie Curie,” he puffs, keeping his voice level. The roar of the crowd hasn’t entirely died down, but he knows he is heard. “You don’t even have a scratch.”
The one they call Mob is giving him a stare. He still seems a little out of it. 
“You fought well,” he states calmly, and Donnie giggles. 
“Oh, please. I’ve been losing tournaments at home for as long as I can remember. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”
At that, Mob flashes a grin. “I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly, coming over in lazy steps. “But it hasn’t been easy, either.”
He sits down, legs stretched out in front of him, and Donnie can now see that his breathing is a little heavy. He feels himself get cocky. 
“Well, I wasn’t about to just let you win. If I had to go down, might as well give ‘em a show, right?”
Mob sends him a sideway glance. “You really are all about dramatics.”
“What can I say?” Donnie sighs theatrically, proving his point. “This whole competition is about being swag. I could hardly disappoint.” 
“I don’t think you could," his opponent utters. “You’re very expressive.”
Donnie raises a perfectly drawn eyebrow. This is something he hasn’t often been told. He looks over to Mob, and the tension in the boy’s shoulders makes him hum in thought. 
“I don’t know who’s next, but you are going to crush them,” he provides. When Mob gives him a nonplussed glance, he goes on. “And even if you don’t, it’s still the last one. How good does that sound?”
“... it has been getting a bit much, to be honest.”
“Yeah, this is wild,” Donnie agrees. “Anyway, what are you gonna do with your trophy once you get it?”
Mob’s smile is a little shy, but he seems happy with the distraction. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one. What would you do?”
“Well, you see, there was this one time I won the Lair Games…”
--------------------------
In the next room, a very proud sensei and three worried brothers are getting impatient. 
The student and the sibling don’t seem to care at the moment. 
The crowd is gone. 
The curtains are closed. 
The lights are off. 
For now, making small talk with a former rival is just enough.
--------------------------
EDIT: there is now a sequel!
YOOO IT'S BEEN SUCH A WILD RIDE
Disclaimer: I have never read/watched mp100 and I deeply apologize for making him probably very ooc. Just wanted to celebrate this beast of a match in my own way, which is wishing I could draw and deciding to heave words on a doc instead lol
CONGRATS ON MOB!! The final match between mp100 and undertale is gonna be soooo funny but I think Mob's gonna win this thing like it's nothing tbh (he has my vote at least)
@autismswagsummit thank you for reblogging all that Donnie propaganda, I genuinely think he never would've made it this far without the signal boost!
All my thanks to the Rise fandom for these past few days! You guys have made such powerful content and there's been so much hype I'm shocked. SHOCKED I TELL YOU
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vettelsvee · 1 month
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MEETING | Sebastian Vettel
f1 masterlist | history series masterlist
history series season 1: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
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summary: diana, after being accepted as a candidate for the toro rosso internship program, begins her not-so-wonderful journey in the world of formula 1 and meets her future husband, sebastian vettel, as well as her biggest nightmare, nico rosberg
word count: 5568
warnings: mentions of suicide, sexism.
taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3
¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)
feedback is truly appreciated!
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2023
"Diana, are you ready?"
The woman's attention was immediately captured when Mark Webber, who had offered, along with Jenson Button, directing the documentary, spoke to her. Quickly, she put her mobile phone in her blazer pocket and nodded at the former driver, indicating that she was ready to start filming.
"Alright," Mark announced. "Remember, Diana, just as we rehearsed with your husband during the script reading: you introduce yourself, talk a bit about what you're currently doing, and then we start talking about your childhood, just from when you were born until you were accepted into the Toro Rosso internship program," the Australian said.
The readhead swallowed, sat better and looked directly into the camera, that was already recording without the woman being conscious.
Immediately, as if she knew what was happening, she began to speak to it:
"My name's Diana Vettel, I'm 34 years old and, as you might already now, I'm wife to four-time Formula 1 World Champion, Sebastian Vettel. However," she clarified, "I prefer to be known as his race engineer for ten years, from 2012 to 2022 and, currently, I'm the co-director, alongside Susie Wolff, of the F1 Academy," she smiled proudly.
Sebastian entered the studio where the shootings were taking place, and when he saw his wife so self-assured, he couldn't feel anything but proud of her. There was no doubt that those sleepless nights, consoling her tears for not feeling enough in a male-dominated world, and the years of visits to her psychologist, which she still attended, had had an incredible effect on her.
"Well, wait!" Diana suddenly exclaimed. "We can't forget that I'm the reason behind Seb's first victory in Formula 1. Monza 2008, to be more precise," she confirmed, causing laughter from the ones around her.
"We already know quite a lot about Vettel's childhood, but now: what can you tell us a little bit about yours?" Button inquired, sitting next to Mark behind the cameramen.
Diana tensed up. It wasn't that she was afraid to recall her childhood, but she didn't consider it significant enough to be in the documentary. Moreover, talking about her private life... let's just say she didn't like it a lot.
The German knew his wife so well that he could vence how she was feeling at the moment. She had the urge to get up and give her a comforting hug, but he also knew that the recording couldn't be interrupted. For that reason, he simply smiled at her from his seat while giving her a thumbs up.
Diana, after seeing Sebastian doing that, laughed.
Since 2008, halfway through her second year as a Mechanical Engineering student and after joining the Toro Rosso internship program, she didn't know how the guy who initially seemed to be a jerk, ended up becoming her whole world.
"It's quite simple, Jenson: I was born in Linz, Austria, on April 27, 1988," began the woman. "My mum decided to end her life when I was 14, back in 2002, and that was the main reason why my dad took both my sister and I to Spain so we could start all over again."
Diana stared into the camera, beginning to ponder the impression people might have of her after that brief introduction.
Mark adjusted himself in his seat, ready to shift the conversation away from the glances Sebastian seemed to be directing at him. He had been fortunate to get to know the couple during his time at RedBull, and he had no doubt that both of them had changed a lot since then, especially the German.
“But every bad thing has something positive, right, Diana?” questioned Webber. “You always say that, and the fact that you’re here now is proof of it.”
“Exactly,” continued Jenson. “This might sound a bit bad, but if that didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have met Seb.”
Mrs. Vettel nodded.
“It was all because of my father actually, who couldn’t bear the stares from neighbors, his coworkers, and the harassment my sister and I faced at school too,” explained the woman, her tears slightly evident. “We did it without thinking: we packed our most important belongings, my father quit his job and, a few hours laters, I was on a plane all the way to Barcelona, with no knowledge of Spanish and no expectations about what could happen in my new life.”
That made Sebastian remember one of the first conversations he had with Diana, where the young woman told him she felt more Spanish than Austrian.
“This is the first time I speak publicly about my childhood,” said Diana, wiping away smeared makeup with a tissue given to her by production. “I’m sorry, really: I always try to think that I’ve overcome it, but the fact is that you never really overcome it.”
“Do you feel more comfortable now that you’ve shared this with the audience?” Webber inquired in an attempt to console the young woman.
The redhead looked at Sebastian, who was visibly concerned at that moment.
“No,” she replied, “quite the opposite, actually. I think I’m even more vulnerable now, and social media criticism is going to pour in, but I’m glad I did it because I’ve taken a weight off my shoulders,” she listed, “and I also know that many viewers will realize the importance of mental health, especially in those moments when everything seems fine when it’s actually the opposite.”
“Is that a hint, sweetheart?”
Vettel, who already knew the answer, sarcastically commented. Still, he needed his wife to confirm it on camera.
“Everyone knows that when I gained confidence in myself, I never beat around the bush; this wasn’t going to be an exception.”
“What do you think is the highlight of your sudden move to Spain?” Button asked Diana.
“Being accepted into the Toro Rosso internship program,” she replied. “That’s when my dream of years started to come true, although hell also made its presence felt.”
Sebastian smiled, remembering it all too well.
The best was about to begin.
“Those who know me well know that I’ve been a Formula 1 fan since I was a child. 1994 is the year I remember the most, especially when Michael became world champion,” explained the Austrian, reminiscing early memories as an enthusiast of the sport. “I was only six years old, but that image is engraved in my memory.”
“For that reason, I decided to study Mechanical Engineering at Universidad Politécnica de Cataluña,” the woman continued in perfect Spanish, surprising everyone in the room except Seb.
“And that was before she even met me,” Sebastian chimed in, causing laughter among those present. “That was a great bonus.”
Taking the documentary seriously was going to be difficult, but as the woman used to say, within all those hard times, a laugh made it all forgettable.
“I studied for years, trying to give my best to get the highest grades,” Diana continued, “and I did it after achieving an average score of 9.28 out of 10 in selectividad, the Spanish entrance exam you need to take in order to study a degree.”
“Tell them if you really needed such a high score, Di.”
The girl laughed at her husband’s comment. She already knew where he was going with that.
“In fact, no: the cutoff score was, I believe, around a five out of ten. I just pushed myself to the limit because I was ambitious and wanted to be the best, too,” she smiled, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks. “Well, and I still like to be the best.”
“See why we got along so well from the beginning?”
“That’s debatable, Sebastian,” remarked Webber, “bet let’s let the viewers hear your story little by little.”
“Indeed, Mark,” agreed Jenson Button with him, “let’s take it step by step. Diana, what made you join Toro Rosso?”
2007 December 3rd
Barcelona, Spain
The first semester of the second year of Diana being a university student seemed endless.
Final exams were approaching, bringing with them the submission of multiple papers, projects, and even some practical written tests. Adding to this, her father had recently lost his job just a few weeks ago. It was easy to understand why the Austrian, who had considered herself Spanish for years, was dozing off in one of the chairs in Room 7, even though it was time for one of her favorite classes: Fluid Mechanics.
As soon as Dr. Martínez stepped into the classroom, all the students stopped talking. Even Diana, who had closed her eyes for a few seconds to see if she could quell her sleep, opened them quickly. The woman, in her fifties, was one of the most beloved professors by students; at the same time, she was considered one of the strictest, and that's what made her one of the most wanted by universities not only in Spain but worldwide.
For this reason, and especially because she always fought for visibility of women in the scientific field, she was Wagner's favorite.
"Good morning, class," she greeted, positioning herself in the center of the platform where she usually lectured. A smile on her face appeared. "Before I start explaining the new topic, which I remind you is the last one for our January exam, I would like to share some news that I know will be interesting for most of you."
At these last words, those present began to pay even more attention, readjusting in their seats curious about what the woman had to announce. Diana was no exception.
"Some companies in the field of engineering have started offering scholarships for students like you to work with them while continuing their studies. For the most talented, I must say," she added with certain authority in her voice.
Excitement and anticipation for the announcement filled the room, where some surprised noises and, in other cases, disappointment, were heard.
"These scholarships offer the opportunity to have a unique experience, allowing you to enter the workforce earlier than expected. At the same time, it will help you start applying everything you have learned during this brief year and a half, and see if you are suited to do the job."
Murmurs began to fill the class. It was a truly incredible opportunity, and it would be rare for someone not to want to be part of it.
Diana, whose mind was always one step ahead, was already wondering which companies would be part of it. For that reason, she decided to raise her hand to ask.
"Miss, I would like to know if you could share more information about the companies that are offering these scholarships."
The woman nodded, thankful for the question from her favorite student and pleased to see her interest once again.
"Of course, Diana. There are leading companies in the field of automotive engineering, aerospace engineering, and something related to renewable energies, which are becoming popular. Each one has a different focus, with a wide variety of projects and areas, so I'm sure there will be interests for each of you."
The young woman's mind began to process all the information, looking through the possibilities the woman had mentioned. While her dream was to work in the automotive world that she was so passionate about, and the path was proving extremely challenging, the possibility of being awarded a scholarship was what made her cling to a distressing hope.
"To apply in this sort of internship program, you will need to send your CV and a letter explaining to the company why you would like to join them," the teacher explained. "Then, some responsible figure of the respective companies will choose the most outstanding students, I guess."
During the remaining class time, Diana could barely pay attention to the explanation. She was excited, and she would dare say scared, about this kind of talk that was taking place. Her innate curiosity made her want to know more. Therefore, when the teacher announced that the class had ended, and her classmates began to leave the room, the twenty-year-old started to pack her things slowly, making sure no one else was there before speaking with her teacher.
"Dr. Martínez, do you mind if I ask you some questions about the internship program?"
"Of course," she replied as she gathered her documents. "Tell me what's on your mind, Diana."
The girl tried to disguise her nervousness, clearing her throat before speaking.
"I have doubts about whether to apply to any of the companies. Honestly, I don't think they'll choose me because I'm a woman. I sometimes struggle to talk to my classmates, so I can't imagine what it would be like for me to apply for a position like that."
Martínez raised her gaze to the redhead, now dyed blonde, full of understanding.
"Diana, I understand that you're worried," she began, placing her hands on her shoulders, "but I want you to know that you are one of the brightest students I have had in these months, and I would even venture to say in my entire teaching career," she explained sincerely, earning an excited smile from the girl. "Keep in mind that, whatever you do, your gender doesn't have to be an obstacle for you to fight for what you want."
Those last words resonated strongly in Diana's mind, who was quite moved at that point. That was exactly what the young woman needed to hear.
"Also, I’d like to tell you something I haven't mentioned in class because I only want you to know, given your interest in a certain topic," the woman continued, further catching the student's attention. "The Toro Rosso Formula 1 team is offering a single position as an assistant for a race engineer, but I don't know which driver in particular."
Diana's eyes widened, not believing what she had just heard from her teacher. The idea of working in Formula 1 was the reason why she was there, striving every day even when she felt like giving up everything.
"Do you think I should send them my application, then?" Wagner asked, intending to make sure before making a hasty decision.
"Absolutely," Dr. Martínez affirmed firmly. "You are an exceptional student, and you have demonstrated great skills in just a year and a half of your studies, which impresses me quite a bit, to be honest. You have the potential to do great things within Formula 1, and I know you will go far if you make it to the sport."
As Diana continued to listen to the woman speak, she couldn't believe there was a chance, even if it was minimal, that her dream would come true. What she didn't like so much was the fact that the woman spoke as if she were already inside the world, but she could do nothing but get excited.
If her application was denied…
“By the way, Diana, are you free during the next hour?”
“Yes. In fact, I was about to head home,” answered Diana, questioning the woman in front of her. “Do you need something?”
The woman affirmed, nodding slightly.
“Let's create your cover letter and resume so we can send it as soon as possible,” she said, taking the lead. “I'm sure many of my colleagues in the department know this information just like me.”
The young woman agreed, and immediately they headed towards Martínez's office, trying not to attract too much attention among the students and, above all, hurrying as much as possible. In those moments, time was of the essence.
Once there, the professor took a seat in front of the computer and offered Diana the seat opposite her. Before the redhead had even let go of her belongings, the teacher was already pulling a stack of papers and a couple of pens from one of the desk drawers.
"Your resume comes directly from our database, but the cover letter doesn't," she explained briskly. "I want you to write down whatever you feel is the reason why you need that position at Toro Rosso."
Having said that, Martínez put on her glasses and focused her gaze on the screen, ignoring Wagner. The girl didn't know what to do or say. Who was she supposed to write to, Franz Tost? No, she was sure team bosses weren't the ones in charge of reading those letters, if anyone read them at all.
"Try to make it as natural as possible," the woman commented to her student without looking at her. "Make them see that you have a passion for engineering, for the sport, and especially, make them miss you when they haven’t met you yet."
Make them miss you when they haven’t met you yet.
Diana took a deep breath and began to let her ideas transfer to paper, flowing without much thought.
Dear members of the Toro Rosso team, it is an honor to have the opportunity to apply for this internship position in your prestigious racing team. Since I was a child, I have always dreamed of being part of the wonderful world of Formula 1...
No, too fanciful and flattering. The young woman crossed everything out, and seeing that she was starting to feel confused, she crumpled up the paper and set it aside on the corner of the table.
Dear Mr. Tost and the rest of the Toro Rosso team: I would like to express my sincere interest in the position of race engineer intern. As a Mechanical Engineering student, I have acquired skills that I would like to develop professionally and, above all, apply them to the field I have been passionate about since I can remember.
Why was it so difficult to write something just to try to make your dream come true?
Pilar Martínez glanced at Diana and shocked her head. That girl who was showing so much insecurity at that moment, as happened in many classes, had the potential to become one of the greatest prodigies in motorsport.
"Don't overthink it, lady," she said affectionately. "Show your true personality and, if you need to, just take a little break before continuing."
The girl shook her head. She simply closed her eyes and imagined what she wanted most at that moment: her, sitting in front of a wall of screens, with headphones on, communicating with Michael Schumacher about what he should do in every turn and straight, when he should pit for a tire change, and even celebrating the occasional victory.
Who said Schumacher, said Alonso. She would even settle for one of the rookies, like that guy who joined Toro Rosso halfway through the previous season and she liked a little bit, Sebastian Vettel.
After several more attempts, she finally brought out everything she wanted to say. She had never felt so proud of any of her writings; not even with her graduation speech in high school, which made the entire teaching staff cry.
Dear members of the Toro Rosso team, With my heart filled with excitement and, especially, gratitude for the opportunity given to university students like me to be part of your team, I submit my application for the internship position as a race engineer. My name is Diana Wagner, I was born in Austria nineteen years ago, and my heart not only belongs to Spain, the country that welcomed me when I needed it the most, but also to the sport of which you are a part: Formula 1. My journey as a Mechanical Engineering student has been short, but I assure you, intense; at the same time, I have grown and learned a lot not only as a future professional but as a person. Throughout this year and a half, I have acquired a wealth of skills and knowledge thanks to the professionals from whom I am fortunate to receive instruction, and if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have the necessary preparation to face certain challenges—although, not deceiving you, I have a long way to go and much to learn. Every subject studied, project completed, and tear shed has been an opportunity to test and prove to myself that even the impossible is difficult. Beyond my knowledge as a student, I would also like to tell you about my passion for the world of motorsports, as I briefly mentioned before. Since I can remember, I have followed every free practice, qualifying, and race, as well as every press conference of each Grand Prix. The deafening sound of the engines, the suffocating speed of the single-seaters, and the passion that teams and drivers have shown have not only been my inspiration to pursue my studies and shape my future but also to grow as a person. In the darkest times of my life, Formula 1 became my light, and it still is. Like drivers work tirelessly to give their best, I also strive to overcome the limits imposed not only because I am a woman, but also because I am too hard-working. Therefore, I know that the opportunity to work alongside the professionals that make up your team would be an unparalleled honor, and I assure you that every day I would show you that I am capable of more. I deeply appreciate the time you have taken to read my cover letter. Although it may be hard to believe the words of a girl who, after all, is still a teenager trying to make her way in the adult world, I assure you that I have to prove much more than what you think.
Possibly, those last words were what made it possible for Diana Wagner to be the selected candidate as an intern at Toro Rosso among approximately two thousand of the best students from all over Europe.
2008 March 13th
Australian GP
“Sweetheart, are you sure you have everything with you?”
The bleached blonde was certain that she did, that she had everything she needed for her new job except for one detail and, surprisingly, the most important one: knowing where she had to go. In front of her was the entrance to Albert Park, and all she felt was a great overwhelm from the size of that circuit. She saw people coming in and out of the venue constantly, both walking and in vehicles that probably cost as much, or even more, than the flat she lived with her sister and father in Barcelona.
“Yes, of course,” she replied, trying to sound as calm as possible. “I'm waiting outside for someone to come and meet me."
“But didn't you say you had to go inside, and that someone would be waiting for you in the box?”
She hated how blunt Amelie was.
“I'm more lost than during my exams period when we first moved to Spain,” she joked. “Now I'll try to figure out what to do. There’s no need to worry about me.”
Bernhard started shouting something in German to his younger daughter, and immediately continued talking to Diana. It seemed surreal to the girl that her family was making a phone call with her at two in the morning in Spain.
“You better get in there, even if you have to jump over a fence!,” he shouted in German, a little annoyed. “And I don't care if you get caught or anything: you haven't traveled to the other damn end of the world and left me with your sister, all alone, just for you to stand there with your arms crossed.”
When Bernhard Wagner got angry, he did, and a lot.
“Yeah, Dad, I know,” she replied, a bit angry because her father seemed not to trust her. “In fact, I'm getting closer now, I have the pass they sent me by mail in my hand, and I'm going through the accreditation with this weird machine. I'll hang up, okay?”
It was a rhetorical question because Diana, before being able to hear an answer from her father, hung up the call. As she let out a long sigh, held in throughout the phone call, she passed her accreditation through the identification sensor, but the photo they asked her for months ago didn't appear.
Again, she tried, and nothing appeared on the screen. She kept trying over and over, which managed to attract the attention of more than one of those present, who did nothing to help the intern.
“Damn it…”
After that, Diana began to unleash a string of curses in German, some of which she had made up on the spot and made no sense at all. She couldn't believe that it would be more difficult than she had planned just to enter the venue and talk to whoever she had to talk to. She was a firm believer in destiny, and she knew that it meant she had to go back to Spain, to her natural hair color and to her university courses.
Frustration was taking over the Austrian, and she was sure that, if she hadn't heard a male voice in German beside her, she would have burst into tears like she never did before.
“Do you speak German too? Do you want me to help you with that?”
Diana nodded her head and looked up at the person who was talking to her. A blond guy, of medium height, who seemed to be a couple of years older than her, was the one who was talking to her. His face was somewhat familiar, although she still couldn't put a name to it.
Another mistake for the rookie Diana Wagner. Of course, if there were other interns besides her, she was sure she wouldn't win the Intern of the Year award, if such a thing existed.
“I tried to get my accreditation to work, but, as you can see” she began to explain, pointing at the card, “it doesn't want to let me into the paddock.”
“Do you mind giving it to me?”
The girl offered it to him without hesitation, feeling much more relaxed in the company of that driver, in case he was. He proceeded to clean it a bit with his shirt a couple of times and immediately passed it again through the scanner.
Her name, along with a photo of her with her newly dyed blonde hair, appeared on the screen.
“So... Diana Wagner, huh?,” the guy inquired, wanting to know more about her. “What brings you here?”
“As they told me a few months ago, I am Toro Rosso's new intern. Supposedly, I'll be subordinate to a track engineer or something like that, I'm not really sure what I'll end up doing.”
The girl answered him honestly, and to her surprise, the stranger seemed to understand something that had been on her mind for a long time, as if he already knew who she was.
“Vettel is going to be damn lucky to have you,” he said shamelessly, “and I would be delighted to have a girl like you by my side too.”
Diana felt her cheeks flush, and although deep down that comment had bothered her, she couldn't help but feel flattered in part.
“And are you supposed to be...?”
“Nico Rosberg,” he took the girl's hand and gave it a short kiss, “F1 driver for Williams. It's an honor to meet you, and let me tell you that, if you get bored with the other blond German, you have privileged access to my box whenever you want.”
Putting on his backpack and giving the girl a slight bow, he left without giving any explanation.
Diana was left bewildered by what she had just experienced. However, even more impressed was Sebastian, who began to feel sorry because he knew that, no matter how much that blonde-haired girl tried to give her best, they would only minimize her achievements.
[...]
After a couple of laps around the circuit, and some explanation of how Formula 1 Grand Prix weekends worked, Diana Wagner was already sitting at a long table with Franz Tost, Toro Rosso's team principal.
The man, despite showing a quite serious demeanor, maintaining composure at all times, had inspired enough confidence in the intern for her to open up a bit to him, especially talking about how her career was going; they also discussed how the blonde would balance her studies with her new job. All this while her supposed boss and the driver she would be subordinate to appeared.
A few knocks on the door startled her. Tost, as if he already knew about the imminent arrival, got up from his seat and headed to the door. As soon as he opened it, it revealed a man in his thirties accompanied by a boy who was already wearing the team's uniform.
Although he looked like Rosberg, at the same time, she could tell he was completely different: his face was longer, and his height seemed to be a few centimeters shorter. He had a big smile on his face, and as soon as he entered the room, he started making jokes that even made the girl laugh.
She barely knew that boy, and he already inspired trust in her.
“Alright, Diana,” announced Franz, causing her to stand up quickly: “this is Alex, who will be, let's say, your master in terms of track engineering,” he introduced the man, shaking his hand, “and this is Sebastian Vettel, one of the young promises we are lucky to have in our team.”
The blonde cheerfully extended his hand to the girl, who accepted it gladly.
“Please, Franz, don't say that,” joked Vettel, “I'm just a kid with incredible potential waiting to get a world title or something similar.”
The intern laughed, immediately regretting it. Her shyness was showing, and Sebastian noticed it, so that's why he decided to gently stroke her hand, slowly enough so that no one else, besides them, would know about that small gesture.
“See?,” said the German, now addressing his engineer, “I told you she was going to like me.”
2023
“That season was a mess,” said Sebastian, looking at the camera while fixing his hair. “The first four races ended in a DNF, and my motivation went down completely” explained the former driver. “The car was crap, but not finishing four damn races? Shit, I didn't want to say bad words…”
“What Seb means,” his wife stated, interrupting him, “is that he had much higher expectations in March 2008, and little by little, he started being conscious of reality. I went through the same thing: even though I thought I was going to do little, I ended up doing even less.”
The documentary directors recalled that information.
“The camera is yours, Mrs. Vettel,” one of the cameramen spoke over, receiving a thumbs up from the redhead.
“There's not much to say, really, except that I remember thinking about leaving because all I did was sit in front of the screens and watch the race just like I did from the TV in my house,” she expressed a bit angry, remembering everything all too well. “And of course, the comments and looks couldn't be missing. I felt like a Playboy model sometimes, I swear. They even mistook me for a grid girl one day entering the pit lane!”
“God, yes,” Seb agreed, joining his wife's monologue. “I don't know if you guys remember,” he pointed at Jenson and Mark, “but there were times when, I swear, it felt like it was more of a Jersey Shore-type show or something like that than a race weekend.”
Diana agreed with the German.
“I think, if I remember correctly, I received a total of forty-eight requests to go out for a drink from Friday to Sunday,” she tried to remember. “Well, a drink and a sex session after that, let's be honest.”
“And I'm glad to say that I wasn't part of that group of assholes,” he covered his mouth directly, receiving a reprimanding look from Webber. “But I had a reason not to.”
“Yes,” the redhead agreed, “although it's not the time to talk about that. Remember sunshine: let's go step by step.”
“It's not to stay on Sebastian’s side,” interrupted Button the couple's dialogue, “but since the moment he first met you, he had incredible respect for you, and I would even dare say admiration.” Vettel snorted, remembering some of the many rumors the girl he fought so much for had to face. He remembered more than once hearing her going to vent in Toro Rosso's bathroom, and even on more than one occasion, he heard her secretly talking to her father, asking him to please fake some illness or something to get out of that.
Ironically, it came true.
“I've been Diana Vettel's number 1 fan since the day I met her,” confessed Seb. “Since March 13, 2008, to be more precise.”
Everyone was impressed by Sebastian's memory, including Diana.
“In addition to the announcement made during the German Grand Prix week, where it was finally revealed that you would join Red Bull the following year thanks to Coulthard's retirement, becoming my teammate,” Mark continued, laughing, “there was another event that marked you in 2008, shortly after.”
“It seemed like everything was going downhill for this lady here,” Sebastian pointed at Diana, “and for me, and that our effort was in vain.”
“But Monza changed everything because Sebastian and I discovered that, together, we could do great things,” continued the woman, trying not to kiss her husband, who had a huge smile on his face, in front of everyone.
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stariikis · 3 months
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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 | 𝐧.𝐫𝐤
synopsis ; not much to say, just perfectionist yn and former perfectionist riki knowing just how to comfort you :') i need a bf
pairing ; fencer!nishimurariki x fencer!reader genre ; fluff n comfort, established relationship, oneshot wc ; 1616
inspired by ; labyrinth - taylor swift
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You’ve always been a perfectionist, and you forever will be.
Riki, darling, on the other hand… you can see his smirk through your fencing mask as you gain a point against him. Feeling proud on your behalf. He, too, is prone to beating himself up for the smallest of mistakes, but his only soft spot is reserved specially for you. 
He grins, walking up to you on the piste and yanking off his mask roughly. “You’re the only one who can match up to my skills.” 
He always says this, and you never believe him. It’s only because I’m his girlfriend, that he’s saying this. 
“Hey,” your eyes go wide and your free hand — not holding your heavy blade, smacks his arm. “You don’t say that about your teammates.” 
Looking indignant, he chuckles and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “Fencing is an individual sport, though?” 
You roll your eyes. 
Gesturing for him to put his mask back on so you can start fencing again, you apologise to your poor referee. Your teammate and makeshift scorekeeper — Chaehwa — appears absolutely disgusted. Then again, she always wears his expression when she, quote unquote, has to “third-wheel you two.” 
She blinks at you, turns around to another teammate, and signs for “help” with her hand. “Save me from these two, please, Minjeol.” 
Minjeol laughs from the other side of the room, fencing jacket rolled up to her elbows as she crosses over the pistes. Taking a swig of her water, she comes up to pat Chaehwa’s back sympathetically. 
Feigning annoyance, you glance back at Riki and walk back to your en-garde line. Through the mask he blinks at you warmly, and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to your wobbly knees. 
Minjeol has apparently taken over Chaehwa’s position, probably to save her from the wrath of the most well-known couple in school fencing each other. The captain and the vice-captain, so perfectly matched that it shocks the students who don’t know of them. 
“En-garde.” You fall into the all-too-familiar stance. Riki does the same. “Pretz.” 
“Allez!” 
The rush of adrenaline that breezes through your body should have fuelled you enough to score a point against a very enthusiastic Riki. Should have prevented you from missing the chance to take his blade with your own and attack at once. 
You should have seen it on his face, should have realised his ulterior motive of not attempting an immediate attack. Usually, he’s waaaay too eager to lunge at you as soon as the referee starts the bout. This time, you foolishly believed it was a genuine fault on his part that he didn’t do so. 
But when you lunge forward in a fast and confident attack, Riki smiles devilishly and skitters backwards, giving you the illusion that he’s retreating. However, when you recover from your lunge and start to step forward, he parries your blade away and ripostes. 
It all happens in an instant, and you’re left stumbling backwards as he loses his balance and almost collapses onto you. Dropping his blade and leaving it hanging by his body wire, his hands jolt out to stabilise you. Breathing heavily, he unclasps his wire from the weapon and checks you for injury. 
“Are you okay?” He even tosses his mask to the side and grabs your shoulders in concern. His hubristic exudation — gone in an instant. His eyes scan you. His mind looks at you. It touches you so deeply that tears well up in your eyes and you stumble backwards even more. 
Now, usually your tears are out of self-disappointment, pure frustration fuelling the tears leaking out your eyes. You’d try to hold them back, to no avail, and Riki would come over and take off your mask, wiping the tears away just as you wish you could wipe away your dismay. 
And he does just that, with the belief that you’re internally reprimanding yourself for your errors in gameplay. His fingers run through your hair, slowly sliding off the hair-tie you used for your messy bun. An icky, sinking feeling fills your stomach when you see the sadness glazing over your boyfriend’s eyes. 
He may seem overly self-confident, but he sure does know the feeling of a bad case of low self-esteem. 
“You sure you want to cry here, my dear?” He leans down to whisper, thumb rubbing soothingly over your upper back. Though you had decided to wear slightly elevated sports shoes today, he still towers above you. “You want me to walk you to the restroom?” 
He knows you so well, too well, it hurts your heart to even think. 
When you don’t answer, your chest feeling clogged up with the sobs escaping you, he unhooks himself from the piste, and then unhooks you as well. He drags you away from the piste and leaves Minjeol standing uselessly by its side. 
“Sorry,” he murmurs after handing you your Hydroflask and helping you remove your lame. “I shouldn’t have tricked you like that.” 
That’s what he’s worried about? That. That is so incredibly annoying. 
“I’m not upset about that,” you laugh, finally swiping away the last of your tears. “Really. I know it sounds like I’m lying but seriously, I’d rather you try your best than go easy on me. You know?” 
Nodding earnestly, Riki sends a charming smile your way before unzipping your fencing jacket. “Then why were you crying? I mean, like, you couldn’t breathe — type of crying.” 
You tilt your head but remain silent. And then it strikes you. As much as you were touched by Riki’s loving attention, you cannot doubt that you still have so much self-hatred broiling inside you, so much that now you can’t even tell it’s there when you break down. 
So much that Riki can detect your emotions even before you can. He’s not even a master empath; usually he can’t pick up hints of irritation when he teases you. But now, he’s either strengthened his sympathising skills, or he’s grown so used to you crying over every miniscule thing. 
“You know,” he slips your weapon into the blade cover for you, “I can read you.” 
It hits a little too close to home, and you flinch at how well he can read your thoughts. Following that, he still somehow has the audacity to ask, “penny for your thoughts?” 
Riki blinks at you, lips subconsciously forming a pout like they always do. It’s endearing and makes your heart ache endlessly. You don’t like this. You should not be feeling so down after every single training session. You’re the captain, for goodness sake. Your teammates are going to think you’re weak, sitting out every session just to cry to your boyfriend. 
”I’m fine,” you say, a statement you want to engrave in your mind. A promise to yourself that it’s really the truth. Because it really, truly is. “I’m fine.” 
Riki stares at you doubtfully through half-lidded eyes, but merely scoots closer to you on the floor. His hand reaches out to touch your knee. His lips lean in to gently touch your cheek, and you shiver upon the contact. Never has a training felt so warm and fuzzy. 
After the kiss, you glance around the room, relieved to see nobody is looking your way. Maybe they’re already used to it, or maybe they’re secretly spectating and whispering behind your back. Either way, nobody’s making the effort to bother you and Riki. 
“You know you’re doing well, right?” Riki whispers, so close you can feel his breath warm on your ear. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear, but can never ask to hear. But there’s still a lingering doubt deep in your soul. Ironic, isn’t it? It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear and you still. don’t. believe it. Not one bit. 
He goes on, “It’s amazing that you can even see where you go wrong. Sometimes I don’t even know how I’ve lost my point, and it’s pretty embarrassing.” 
Pursing your lips to suppress a laugh, you mutter, “that’s your problem, not mine. Maybe I’m good but I’m not good enough.” 
“But you are!” A mock-annoyed Riki grabs ahold of your hands and brings them close to his chest. The genuity lacing his voice and the way his eyes go wide in an attempt to help you believe in yourself — you just accept what he’s saying without any further thought. 
What more is there to internally debate about anyway? If Riki believes, you believe too. You smile and he kisses you lightly again in return. If fencing is your hell, Riki is your heaven. 
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“You ready?” Minjeol raises her eyebrows at you as if confirming whether you’re really willing to repeat the cycle all over again. At first, you’re hesitant, uncertainty swamping over your every sense. But when Riki comes over to test guard and salute, the warm, encouraging smile painted on his face helps you nod with confidence. 
“En-garde. Pretz. Allez!” 
It’s been a while since I’ve done this. 
You both charge towards each other, but you’re faster. A feign and a double-attack later, you’ve scored the winning point against Riki. The latter seems even happier than you for this, which is insanely cute to you. He walks up to you, mask already off and in his hands. Setting his aside, he leans to help you with yours and then presses a finger to his cheek. 
“A kiss for your biggest supporter and mentor?” He laughs boyishly. 
“Mentor!” You gasp, pretending to take offense. “Do you even deserve this?” 
You press your lips against his cheek, trying not to take notice of the way his face goes pink. 
Victory has never tasted so sweet. 
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thanks for reading!! and yes, i'm a fencer. and they're using the foil weapon teehee
some terminology used that you might need to know en-garde, pretz, allez - words used to start a bout en-garde - french for "on guard", a stance with knees bent used by fencers lame - the silver electric jacket worn on the outermost part of the body riposte - an attacking action used after a parry
i'll take this time to promote my chaptered nishimura riki fic, you in the rain. if you're a fan of wifty or taylor, be sure to check it out! hehe
more of my works >
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jedi-enthusiast · 3 months
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Yk one thing I barely see talked abt is the fact that Mace Windu's lineage and thus legacy is one of the longest Order 66 surviving ones in Star Wars WHO STAYED TRUE TO THE JEDI ORDER'S PRINCIPLES.
Like damn, Mace rly managed to establish a liniage of highly competent and compasionate Jedi. The Shatterpoint Lineage either outlasted or survived for nearly as long as the Disaster Liniage who pretty obviously stopped truly representing Jedi with Obi-Wan (only rly returninh to the true jedi way with Luke if ya see him as part of that lineage)
Like- who do we have in the Shatterpoint lineage ?
-Master of the Jedi Order , died trying to save the galaxy from the Sith
-Former council member, died saving her padawan from her brainwashed men
-Rebel Jedi training a student despite everything that went down , died saving his padawan & loved ones from a giant explosion
-THE GUY LITTERALY ABLE TO GET THE CHANCE TO FORCE TIME-TRAVEL WHO SEND HIMSELF INTO EXILE TO PROTECT THOSE HE LOVES & THE GALAXY
And who do we have in the Disaster Lineage :
-Guy with questionable methods who did his best
-OBI-WAN who rly doesn't need any explanation (who's also the last true Jedi with expection of Luke (if you counf him) to come out of this lineage)
-a genocial manbaby with an alergy for any sort of moral code or basic logic
-a pick me shitting on her own adoptive family, who isn't even a Jedi if we are being honest (sry Ahsoka, but your character to assasinated to a point where I just can't anymore)
And honestly ? It says a LOT that Mace Windu's lineage stands as pretty much last bastion of a true Jedi Lineage from the old Order.
Agreed 100%
And ngl I find it so funny that people constantly praise the Shatterpoint lineage- (Depa, Kanan, Ezra) -and then shit on Mace like, my dude, WHO DO YOU THINK TAUGHT DEPA AND PASSED ON THOSE VALUES TO HER AND THEREFORE HIS LINEAGE???
But no, Mace's lineage is by far the best imo---I love Obi-Wan and Luke and Yoda, but they get negative points for having not one but TWO genocidal fascists in the lineage- (Dooku and Anakin) -and then someone who thinks the Jedi brought on their own genocide- (Ahsoka) -and then someone who decided that the fate of the galaxy was less important than her feelings and probably kickstarted another war- (Sabine, apparently, since Felony shoe-horned her into the lineage).
Meanwhile the Shatterpoint lineage has the head of the Order who almost won the Clone Wars and stopped the Empire from being created, who only failed because he was betrayed- (Mace) -then an amazing and empathetic general who was literally so selfless that she sacrificed herself to save her padawan- (Depa) -then someone who fought against the Empire, successfully overcame his own issues to both train a padawan and then forgive those who he thought willingly murdered his family, and then sacrificed himself to save his family and give the Rebellion a leg up on the Empire for the Battle of Lothal- (Kanan) -and finally someone who let go of all his grief, rejected the Dark Side SEVERAL TIMES, and then sentenced himself to a life in exile to protect the galaxy from a genocidal fascist- (Ezra).
Like...there's really no competition here.
In the Imperial Era, Mace was probably sitting back as a Force-ghost, watching the Disaster lineage fuck up the galaxy and then have to fix it all over again, smugly staring down Obi-Wan and Yoda like-
Mace, smugly: Hm, did you know that today Kanan taught Ezra how to connect with animals? I'm so proud of them.
Obi-Wan, watching Anakin commit even more mass murder and Ahsoka blame the Jedi for Anakin's actions: Must be nice.
Yoda, staring down Dooku, who literally tried to take over the whole galaxy with a fascist regime: Yes. Nice, it must be.
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gojos-fr-bae · 6 months
Text
Liar pt.3
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader
Warnings: Pregnancy, sososos saaaaaad, ands, fluff, drinnking, I LOVE Kouki
Word Count: 1k (not them getting shorter)
A/N: BOO! Didin't see this coming huh? Me neither tbh but i didn't go to school yesterday and boredom was kiiling me sooo.....
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Month 5
Satrou (I swear we'll see y/n and Kouki this time, allow me this once)
As Satoru slowly awoke from his restless sleep, unbearable nausea overcame him as he threw his bearley living body to his toilet, regurgitating meals he has no memory of even eating. His mouth burned as he vomited bile, burning his tongue.
He had lost his will to live but life refused to let him go. He forced himself to get up, get ready, and prepare himself for the copious amounts of bullshit he would have to deal with throughout whatever amount of time he is able to remain conscious. 
As he sat under a tree, ungodly amounts of booze already flowing through his system, he watched his students train on the plain before him.
He felt the grass beside him shuffle, the scent of surgical spirit and smoke flooding his senses.
“Hey idiot,” Shoko said, her raspy voice barely reaching his ears.
She turned to face her former classmate as he sat there, silent with a stoic face.
“Are you seriously planning on staying boring forever?”
No Answer
Shoko Sighed as she looked at her friend. Ever since you left he had never been the same. It pained her to see the bubbliest, happiest person she has ever known in such a state. It was worlds worse than when they lost Suguru and she couldn’t help but feel for the guy. She placed her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it slowly, facing him as he stared at nothing.
“Please take care of yourself, and slow down with the drinking, you’re cooking yourself.” she said with a softness that was rare to hear from her.
The doctor rose from her seat and looked down at Satoru, he’ll be okay. Sha’s praying for him to be okay.
Year 1 
Y/N
You woke up and immediately ran to your son’s room, excitement having seeped into every bone in your body .When you walked in and saw you ray of sunshine kneeling against the edge of his crib, bright gummy smile with four front teeth showing and you felt like you were about to EXPLODE.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVEEEEYYYYYY!!!!!!!!” You screamed, picking him up and squeezing him to your chest.
His giggles filled the room and you peppered kisses all over his face. You took him to the living room as he clutched the shirt you were wearing. You walked him to the small living room of your quaint apartment, showing him the cake you stayed up all night baking. You laughed as he put his hand on the cake, smearing it all over his face in an attempt to eat it.
You looked at your son and you felt the love spillover as you couldn't help but tear up at the thought that your precious little angel was growing up. You were so, so proud. But the happiness was slightly soured by the fact that you would have to raise him without his father. You thought about Satoru and where he was right now. From what Megumi had told you, he had taken your disappearance har but he couldn’t really tell you more as Satoru and Megumi barely even saw each other seeing as Satoru buries himself in his work now.
You never hated him and never wished anything bad upon him, but you couldn’t help but miss what you shared, yet when you looked down at your cooing baby, you thought about his future and knew you had done what was best for him. You hope so.
Satoru
Gojo sat in the unoccupied nursery with a blue frosted cupcake in his hands and a number 1 lit candle. He had made sure that he was sober throughout the entire day and night prior just for this occasion. He looked down at the empty crib and pictured you and your child celebrating his first birthday, perfectly happy. 
Without him. 
For all he knew you had moved on to someone else and his child had a loving father taking care of him. Hisalready shattered heart only broke more and yet he was so happy and excited and proud that his son was already a year old.Although he wasn't there to witness it, it still filled him with such innocent joy.
“Happy birthday my love,” He whispered, a lone tear cascading down his cheek.”I love you.”
Year 2
Y/N
You were seated at your desk at 11pm, looking down at all the bills that needed payment by the end of the month. Rent, water, electricity, you need to buy food, clothes, new shoes for Kouki, and on top of all of this, he was meant to start school in September which was only a month away and you aren't sure how you were going to make all these payments on time seeing as your job didn’t pay you enough to handle it.
“Mommy?” you heard a soft voice call at the entrance of the office. At your door stood your precious kikufuku dressed in his kitty onesie and blue and white monkey plushie being dragged on the ground behind him as he held it loosely.
“Baby, what are you doing awake?” you cooed as he waddled towards you and raised his arms as a sign for you to carry him. 
You and your son were extremely attached to each other not only because you were his only parent (technically) but because you worked as customer care you were able to work from home, meaning you two were together 24/7 and it showed.
You placed him on your lap and he immediately snuggled as close to you as possible.
“Sweepy,” he murmured, already falling asleep in your arms.
You looked down at him, kissing his forehead as you realized that you might not be able to give him a life that he deserves. 
But you would, If you went back to teaching.
You didn’t want to get yourself involved with what happened right after his birth again but you needed him to have the best life possible. And if that meant you needed to go back, you had no choice. You had to do it for him.
But at what cost?
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Hope this is good😭🏃🏿‍♀️
Also, Thank you to EVERYONE forthe support, almost at 100 followersssss!!!!! Much love❤️❤️
@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here
© gojos-fr-bae
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frogchiro · 5 months
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As a proprietor of a Skyrim blog myself, do you have any other headcanons for our darling Call of Duty gentlemen? Perhaps what their classes and roles might be in that universe?
Ngghh I love this ask and it's perfect for a come-back!! And I'm very sorry that you had to wait so long for this :((
My Skyrim hyperfixation comes back every year around this time so have this super specific roles/races of the CoD men <3 This was brought to you by Kin's hyperfixation and me listening to Skyrim soundtrack <3
Simon would definitely be a Nord through and through; big, burly, hairy and strength for days! Perfect body for surviving the harsh Skyrim winters, hunting Saber-tooth tigers and bears for their precious pelts for keeping warm or lugging heavy wood after him to place in the hearth in his modest cabin deep in the woods near Dawnstar.
Johnny would be a Breton!! Just think about it!! He's canonly a demolitions expert, knows his way around explosives right? Sooo he'd be adept at Destruction Magic, always eager to learn until it eventually turns into a fight where he just...blows his opponent up/ That's how he got kicked out of the Winterhold Academy for being insubordinate and seriously harming one of the students there by loosing control of his spells. Now he's traveling through Skyrim as a mercenary/adventurer, always getting into fights and being known for exploring places where no one else would dare to go it.
My boy Kyle is a proud Redguard! A skilled fighter and extremely knowledgeable, he was traveling through Tamriel as an adventurer too, visited Morrowind, Elsweyr and while he was traveling through Cyrodil he met the big, burly Nordman, Price! He actually saved him when he got accidentally cornered and heavily injured by a group of Draugrs when he was exploring old ruins and Price helped him fight them off and then took him back into his camp and helped him. Since that time Kyle is a loyal friend and companion of Price, learning all the time from the older man and bettering his fighting skills <3
And now for John!! He's a Nord too, an older and seasoned warrior and former soldier in the Imperial Forces, he stationed most of his life whenever he was send and now that he's retired Price decided that he wants to return back to Skyrim. I imagine he'd settle somewhere in the Rift, close to a village but far enough to have a lot of privacy...Or at least wanted to until he met the young Redguard man, Kyle, and saved him <3
Bonus!:
Philip would definitely be half -Nord-half -Imperial, idk why I just feel it😭I think that even though there's Nord in him as well Philip would be very adamant on disregarding that side of him, always introducing himself as Imperial since he'd kinda have that mindset instilled in him that Nords are just mostly meat-headed savages. He rose through ranks in the army and is now a general like Tullius, known for his strategic mind and skills in battle. He got acknowledged by the Emperor himself and given an award; poor Phil thought he'd be rewarded in gold, lands and riches but instead his 'reward' was to be stationed in Solitude and supervise the Imperial forces in Skyrim😭
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asimperingswannsong · 6 months
Note
Request: fluff with Larissa where Rissie is having sad girl minutes and Reader cheers her up, please
🤗 Thank you for the ask! I can certainly try! This was my first attempt at a Reader insert. It was a fun challenge. Hope you like it! 🙃
Another Dismal Dance
Larissa Weems x Reader
Notes/Summary/Warnings: Just fluffy stuff. Larissa has another disappointing Rave'N and reader tries to make it better.
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You were standing with Ms. Ingram, the other rookie teacher, by the punch bowl at the Rave'N chaperoning the students as they arrived. She was busy mindlessly speculating on who might be dating who and whether any of the speculative couples would be making an appearance together as official items, but your attention was elsewhere. You were trying to be subtle about it, but it was difficult because the object of your affection was positively radiant this evening.
From the moment you'd interviewed with her and bonded over your shared interest in Outcast History, her former subject, you'd been enamoured by Principal Weems. This was your first teaching job and she had been an amazing mentor, always ready with words of encouragement or offering an ear for you to vent. And when she'd begun to confide in you during your fireside chats in her office, you couldn't have been happier. She'd been having a tough time this year with the monster attacks and Wednesday's constant need to solve the mystery surrounding them. You'd become increasingly worried about her as you could see from the windows of your rooms how many evenings, she'd been working late into the night doing damage control for Wednesday's latest antics.
But you'd been able to cheer her up anytime she expressed frustration with things just by mentioning the Rave'N. She was so excited about the preparations. She wanted everything just right for her students to have a memorable experience and her enthusiasm was one more thing about her that you found so endearing. You'd been having little cautionary chats with yourself lately just to check in and remind yourself to respect boundaries since this was your boss and making an unwanted advance toward her could be a huge mistake but it was hard to keep your resolve everytime you saw her flitting through the halls. She was so beautiful and so elegantly put together. And her personality matched her appearance, charming and perfect. It was a struggle not to be a complete simp.
Especially right now, she was stunning in her knee length silver dress, and she looked so happy seeing all of her hard work come to fruition. She had done an incredible job on the themed decor. It was nice to see her have this perfect evening after all the stress she'd dealt with recently. Now, if only you could work up the courage to go over and tell her as much. "Right?" Your eyes widened as your realized you'd become so engrossed in Principal Weems that you'd completely checked out of the conversation with Ms. Ingram.
"Sorry?" "Coach Vlad." She was met with a look of confusion. "I said he thinks his track suit is formal wear apparently. Crazy huh? Are you alright, Y/N?" "Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about Monday's lesson plan and whether to include a pop quiz," you lied trying to cover for the actual reason behind your inattentiveness. Ms. Ingram rolled her eyes dramatically and grabbed you by the arm shaking it, "We're off work. It's a dance. Loosen up and have a little fun, Y/N." "Yeah, I'll try…"
You managed to excuse yourself from Ms. Ingram's gossip train and finally made your way to Larissa. "Ms. L/N! You look lovely this evening darling. That dress is so pretty!" she greeted you happily. You blushed noticeably at her compliment. "This is amazing Principal Weems. You should be so proud. And you are a vision. Perfection." "Really?" her turn to blush noticeably. "I love it. And the gloves, the jewelry, and the hair, they're all absolutely beautiful." She smiled still blushing, "Flatterer." "Just facts." "Ms. L/N?" You heard Ms. Ranier, the other history teacher, call from behind you.
You reluctantly started to turn away from Larissa to acknowledge Ms. Ranier, but she reached out gently and took your hand to draw your attention back to her for a moment. "Ms. L/N?" You turned back with a look of inquiry. "Before you go…" "Yes?" "I just wanted to ask if you'd like to stop by my office later? Maybe for a celebratory drink? I'm so happy with how everything came together." "I would love to. That sounds fun," you said beaming at her. She smiled in return and winked at you, "See you then, Y/N." The wink has caused your stomach to abruptly relocate within your body. You turned and floated away.
Everything was going so well…until it wasn't.
You were standing against the wall with two other teachers deeply engaged in a terrible dance battle with each of you showcasing your cringest of moves when you felt a droplet land on your shoulder.As you looked around trying to find the source of the leak you noticed the droplet was red. "What the hell?" And then there was two, three, four. "What's going…" And then the sprinklers opened fully and rained down red.
People started to scream as their formal attire they'd spent weeks choosing became stained all over. Then they started to try to get away and began slipping in the mess. You immediately started trying to help students up and direct them to the exit, but it was chaos. And then you heard a loud scream and you turned to see Larissa having a full-blown meltdown in the center of the room and your heart broke in two.
She'd wanted this to be perfect so badly and she'd already dealt with so much this year and now she and her beautiful dress were stained from top to bottom. She was breathing deeply and shaking. She seemed to be having a panic attack or hyperventilating. You tried to make your way toward her, but you kept getting caught up in the on rush of the exiting crowd. Over and over again you were thwarted from getting to her. Eventually you were pulled along by your fellow teachers who all just wanted out.
In the aftermath you stood and looked frantically around for Larissa. You just wanted to make sure she was okay. Unable to find her, you hugged and comforted crying students encouraging them gently to return to their rooms and get cleaned up and apologizing for their dance being ruined. Finally you spotted her, but she rushed by on her phone and you heard her addressing Sheriff Galpin. She'd recovered from her earlier panic and now she sounded furious.
Realizing this was not an ideal time to try and speak to her you returned to your own rooms and cleaned yourself up. You paced your room using baby wipes to clean the stains from your face and out of your hair as much as possible before changing out of your ruined dress. You could see Larissa pacing furiously in her office and gesticulating wildly at the other occupants.
You determined when you had a chance you would try to intervene and do what you could to comfort her in some way. You grabbed a large basket and began filling it with items, baby wipes, cloths, a blanket, a candle, a bottle of red wine you'd bought after trying it in Larissa's office one evening, and finally a small bouquet from your pink hellebores. You made your way over to the main building and saw Sheriff Galpin and Mayor Walker leaving as you entered. You made your way upstairs.
As you entered while knocking you saw Larissa hastily try to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes as she stood from her desk. "Y/N? Are you alright? I'm so sorry for what happened?" You came in and placed the basket on the couch. "Am I alright? I came to check on you. I know how much you were looking forward to this. I'm the one who's sorry for the way it turned out." She'd been making a valiant effort not to cry but she lost the battle and started to weep openly. You rushed over and hugged her tightly. "Oh no sweetheart. Don't cry. I'm so sorry."
She clung tightly to you and sobbed loudly. You held her tightly in return and rubbed soothingly on her back trying to bring her some comfort. As her sobs lessened slightly you placed your arm around her lower back. "Come here, sweetheart," you said gently leading her toward the couch in front of the fire, "let's sit down together for a minute." You brought her around to the couch but she hesitated. "I don't want to stain it," she sniffled still wearing her ruined dress. You moved quickly over to your basket and removed the blanket, unfolding it and holding it open like a towel. She continued to hesitate.
You wiggled it at her invitingly, "Come on. I brought it just for you. Feel free to stain it all you like." Larissa smiled through her next sniffle and moved closer to you. You wrapped her up into a red burrito and hugged her once more before encouraging her to sit. She did and you removed the candle and flowers placing them on the table and lighting the wick. Larissa smiled and wiped a strand of stained loose hair from her eyes. "What are you doing?" she asked curiously.
"Me? I'm currently in the middle of an impromptu and somewhat desperate attempt to provide some small modicum of comfort to you after what was an unmitigated disaster perpetrated on the most undeserving of creatures." Finishing your quick mood setting decor, you reached over producing the bottle of wine and holding it out to her. "May I interest the madam in a glass of the house's finest Beaujolais Nouveau?" you said in your corniest French waitress impression. Mercifully she chuckled as you poured her a glass.
Darling, you didn't have to do any of this." "I wanted to. I felt terrible seeing you crushed like that." You held up a baby wipe. "May I?" "Please." You placed a knee on the couch beside her and bent forward over her wiping the stains from her face gently. She gazed up into your eyes with a look of gratitude that made you weak. "Thank you," she whispered as you continued to wipe away the red. "Of course, sweetheart."
When you finished cleaning as many of the streaks from her face as you could, you sat down next to her on the sofa and poured yourself a glass. She held hers out for a refill and you both sat and stared into the fire for a while. You felt her hand lay over the top of yours and you turned yours over. She entwined your fingers together and you continued to watch the flames. "Are you going to be alright?" you whispered. "Yes, darling, don't worry about me." "But I do," you said after a pause. She caressed your hand gently and smiled.
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goddessxeffect · 10 months
Text
I AM IS PLAYING ALL THE PARTS
A few weeks back, when I (thought that I) understood what Neville meant by that phrase I was, no shit, in rush hour traffic at a crowded train station with hundreds of people around me. Shortly before that, I had heard some audio recordings of him in the car, which may have triggered this epiphany. I recommend that, by the way.
And just when I was thinking about the fact that I haven't written or really dealt with the whole topic "There is no other but You (awareness)" for a really long time since this former revelation, I got this new thought or actually is it's much more than just a thought. I guess this time I really understood what "I AM is playing all the parts" means but let me explore.
You continue to fall for the illusion of being a person living in a world with things separate from them. There is nothing that exists. Only you do. Not his reality, not hers, only you(rs). @4dbarbie
Basically we start with the true fact that future and past do not exist and the only "time" is the present moment. This means that all experiences (that you have had or everything that you are now and can be in the future) exist in consciousness at this moment. But we all already know that, because that's the core message behind creation is finished.
If I want to have a pet, for example, and currently know or identify with an ego that does not have any pets then this does not mean that the experience of owning a pet does not already exist in consciousness. It has to or else Ego wouldn't or couldn't have the desire for it. But what I don't have is that condition selected for my currently embodied ego, since we know that if I know or believe something (of myself) then I (ego) "see" it.
So what really happens now when you experience that "others" have things or experiences that you don't but want to have? It's really easy. To remind you, all things already exist in consciousness. This means they are visible but not as an attribute or state of your ego, the character you currently identify with. They are visible in a sense as "others" in your (egos) environment show that quality or state that you currently want to embody e.g. you see a woman walking past 'you' with the very pet that ego wants.
Your problem arises from identifying with an ego that currently does not acknowlegde or embody that quality as truth for itself. Your current ego then cannot accept that trait or state, but because that experience already exists in consciousness (belongs to you), and everything has the same source (awareness) and is already being aware of, the trait or state is visible in the ego's life. Because you have already become aware of this quality or state, you are being it, you know it exists, therefore ego wants it.
It's like Groundhog Day. Again, this is just a misidentification with the ego, an illusion really, or ego's assumption that this quality or state is not belonging to you, that is, it is not visibly embodied in ego's life. Speaking in the name of Law of Assumption, this means that the assumptions of the ego override your very state of self, possession or source of all things. Because you identify yourself primarily with the ego, you fulfill this assumption more than your actual state, which includes everything. You are that powerful, imagine!
The world you are seeing now is just awareness appearing as form so if you are awareness at your core the desired reality (= desire, thing, experience, person/ego) you want is not seperate from you. The paradox: the more you try to make something happen "physically", the more you identify with ego.
I really hope this all makes sense! You know what you have to do now. Stop identifying with the ego. Stop pretending that there are things that aren't yours or qualities that aren't part of you. This is not the truth but just a distorted image created by You because You think you're the ego.
Ada, I know you're out there. I hope you are proud of your student, who has now become a teacher herself - especially in her own life. All of your students daily help to make this knowledge understandable and spread it, but all thanks to you!
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wachtelspinat · 4 months
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Hey ! I’ve been seeing your art going around since your midnight crew stuff and I just recently stubble across your tumblr, thank to your beautiful overwatch art for our beloveds junkers ! I’ve been scrolling through your account and read about your experience of being a former graphic designer who is a doctor now. And damn. I can’t emphasize how much I admire you, especially as someone who is struggling really hard to choose between 2 careers paths ( with one of them being art related ). This is why I was wondering if you would be open to talk about how and why you switched from art to medecine ? Especially because most of the time I feel it happens more the other way around ? ( If it’s too personal just ignore this ask + sorry if you already talked about it before )
hey ! no worries, i don't expect ppl to scroll through my tumblr to find an answer for a question they might have. first of all thanks for your nice words, means a lot <3
i switched from art to medicine because my early 20-something-self was even more anxiety-ridden than my present-self, and being in art school and having to "perform" regularly was a nightmare. i'm talking about a time in which i was so scared of being perceived that i often skipped grocery shopping, just so i could avoid being around people. so like, pitching art related projects to peers and profs was eeh... especially because art is so personal oh my god. i still hate it when someone tries to sneak a peek while i'm drawing, makes me wanna throw my sketchbook and myself off the bridge. anyways so i always felt a 110% inadequate (plus i got a gf during that time who was so good to me and tried to get me out of my funk on multiple occasions (she was and still is an artist and has now a career as a freelancer and i'm rly proud of her) but i couldn't see that because i just compared the two of us all the time and sabotaged any attempt she made for having fun with drawing with her) that i sat down at some point and asked myself if i could do this any longer, and i came to the conclusion that no, it really kills me rn.
what made me go into the health sector? i don't even know anymore, i think it was a mixture of "i loved biology, esp. the human body in school" and "my mum is an icu nurse and talks a lot about hospitals, maybe i should check it out"... it was not a well thought through decision, which is so funny because studying medicine was a hell of a meatgrinder ride (also my anxiety and self hatred? still there, but now i wasn't judged anymore because of my art but instead being called a dumb idiot collectively with all the other students because nobody likes med students) and for some reason i was able to get through that despite it not being my passion at all, but i couldn't stand up for myself in art school. i don't even know if i could work through it nowadays, but the good thing is i don't have to ask myself this question anymore, because being a doctor pays the bills, and ever since i left art school i was able to just draw without consequence. which is nice to a degree, my artistic output is not tied to the means of generating money. on the other hand... idk, in another life with more confidence and less worries, i'd love to be some sort of character designer T_T
so yeah that's basically it. at some times i cherished my career decisions, at other times i regretted them deeply, worst thing is i know it has a lot to do with personality, but the fact that we can't change who we are with a blink of an eye gives me the framework to think that the path i took was ok. as in. things happened for a reason and maybe i'm just not cut out for that kind of work. you have to be aware of the conditions of a job to decide if you are up for it. because being an artist doesn't end with "just draw". i myself had an unrealistic view of the job back then too. and the fact that i could not seperate between personal aspects and "doing a job here" was crucial.
yeah, idk if this is helpful at all. i think the one thing that is super important here is to have a realistic view on the conditions of work you are about to head into, and i know this is mostly very difficult to aquire. because unless you really work in a sector there is often no way to fully grasp the situations you can find yourself in (this applied for me also in the health sector, which made me fall into a depression a year ago, but what do you do after you spent 6 years of studying :') ). doing internships and just trying to get to know a lot of things really helps. and - idk how old you are, but if you're really young: it's ok to switch careers at some point. it's even ok to do so when you are older (trying to end on a positive note here because it feels like i just said a lot of depressing things... like don't get me wrong i like my job, the conditions are just fucked up, and again my personality prevents me from switching again but it's also not that easy in germany, BUT it's a valid thing to do, being versatile is good! just... make sure you don't end up with a job that you absolutely hate because that kills it all)
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cha-melodius · 5 months
Text
2023 Writing Roundup
Thanks to @welcometololaland, @rmd-writes, @kiwiana-writes, and @orchidscript for tagging me for this one. I'm also going to say thanks to everyone who tagged me in the ao3 wrapped or other round up type things; I've been putting off doing my annual writing year-in-review because I always post it on the 30th or 31st. This one is new to me and I figured why not, I'll do it now. I published 31 fics this year (so far!), so safe to say I'm putting this partly under a cut to save your dashes.
JANUARY
How’s About Cookin’ Something Up With Me? (TMFU, T, 4k) Teachers AU, Napoleon helps Illya bake cookies for a holiday party.
Love is a Deserter (TMFU, T, 3k) Post breakup getting back together fic.
True Hollywood Romance (Lokius, M, 8k) Actors AU, fake dating, Mobius and Loki have a PR relationship that turns real.
It's Been a Bad Day Lately (Lokius, T, 17k) Time loop, Loki has to try to figure out how to defeat a deadly Kang variant and save the man he loves all at once.
FEBRUARY
All for a Taste of the Honey (RWRB, E, 6k) FBI Agents AU, Henry goes undercover as a stripper and Alex has a lot of feelings about that.
MARCH
All Comes Crashing (TMFU, E, 5.6k) Illya has one night left to live and is forced to admit the feelings he's been holding back.
Nova, Baby (RWRB, E, 67k) CIA/MI6 AU, forced to work together by their respective agencies, Alex and Henry take on high-stakes missions and fall in love.
APRIL
Kiss Me Like You Mean It (Firstprince, Napollya, Lokius, T) Various T-rated ficlets featuring kisses.
MAY
All the Old Showstoppers (RWRB, E, 20k) Canon-divergent AU where Alex and Henry compete in the Great Celebrity Bake Off.
The Sky is Open (RWRB, E, 5k) 1970s Pan-Am pilots AU (with a twist!).
Just a Shot Away from You (TMFU, T, 4k) Five times Napoleon and Illya were ordered to kill each other, and one where everyone decides they’ve had enough.
JUNE
Tiny Little Movies (RWRB, various ratings) A drabble collection based on drabble prompts from the Brownstone discord server.
JULY
Always Where I Need To Be (RWRB, T, 5k) Alex's new roommate has a puppy with a penchant for stealing his glasses.
AUGUST
Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood (RWRB, E, 20k) Couples Therapy AU, Alex and Henry are workplace enemies and accidentally end up in couples therapy.
Black Moon (TMFU, E, 6k) For All Mankind AU, Napoleon and Illya are astronauts living on moon bases.
That's My Trouble (RWRB, M, 6k) Detective/ME AU, aka 'Rizzoli and Isles AU', Alex shows up bleeding on Henry's doorstop.
Theory and Practice (RWRB, T, 4k) My 100th fic! Grad students AU, former hookups turned enemies to friends to lovers.
Getting Clinical (RWRB, T, 2k) Non-famous AU, Alex and Henry meet at a sexual health clinic.
Cold Light (Lokius, M, 4k) Human AU, Loki and Mobius meet in Norway and their relationship grows under the northern lights.
Step Into My Office, Baby (RWRB, E, 2k) Office AU, friends to lovers, three scenes in a corner office.
The Harrowed and the Haunted (TMFU, T, 3k) Paranormal investigators AU, Napoleon and Illya visit a haunted house.
SEPTEMBER
Will You Brie Mine? (RWRB, T, 6k) Non-famous AU, Henry sells cheese at Harrods Food Halls and Alex is his best customer.
Lessons in Foreign Diplomacy (RWRB, E, 5k) Post-American Revolution AU, Alex and Henry are ambassadors to the court of Versailles from their respective countries.
Something To Be Proud Of (RWRB, M, 3k) Non-famous AU, Alex volunteers at Edinburgh Pride and Henry makes an embarrassing email typo.
Enemies of the Ocean (Lokius, T, 3k) Human AU, Loki and Mobius are stranded at sea on a life raft together.
OCTOBER
Falling Down the Stairs of Your Smile (RWRB, M, 4k) Canon divergence AU, Alex stays another night after the hospital trip and their relationship gets a jump start.
In the Dog Days (RWRB, T, 6k) Modern magic AU, Alex is jealous and suspicious of Henry's shapeshifter boyfriend, David.
NOVEMBER
Taste the Way You Bleed (RWRB, T, 4k) WWDITS AU, the Super Six are all vampires living in the same house, and Alex and Henry still hate each other (until they don't).
DECEMBER
This Hell of a Season (RWRB, E, 21k) currently posting Nova-verse missing scenes and sequels, 3 times Alex & Henry spent Christmas on missions and 1 when they didn't.
[Redacted] (TMFU) My fill for the annual TMFU winter holiday gift exchange.
WHEW. Ok, tagging! @cricketnationrise, @heytheredeann, @mirilyawrites, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @dewdropreader, @celaestis1, @myheartalivewrites, @14carrotghoul, @clottedcreamfudge, @indomitable-love, @dumbpeachjuice, @indestructibleheart, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @inexplicablymine, @sherryvalli, @iboatedhere, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @leaves-of-laurelin, @three-drink-amy, and anyone else who wants to play.
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mrghostrat · 6 months
Text
some of my favourite good omens fics for @lostscript!
this got so long oh my god. i have to stop, but this is only like 2 pages of my bookmarks, in no particular order. i'll have to make another post eventually, or at least start organising my bookmarks on ao3 to rec things more easily. for now, please enjoy this tasty mix of human aus + angel/demon pining.
First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield by heloluv
M • 41k • human AU (professors) this fic is like stepping into a beautiful, cosy, classic, high quality christmas movie. crowley and aziraphale are professors at Tadfield University, and they meet for the first time when aziraphale starts organising the yearly christmas fundraiser. "A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year."
What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) by charlottemadison
E • 213k • human AU (teacher/guardian) the flow of their growing relationship in this fic is so unique and incredibly written, it seizes my heart on every reread. aziraphale is a high school english teacher, adam is his narcoleptic student, and crowley is adam's uncle/legal guardian. due to crowley's work, he cannot date a teacher, for risk of losing his job and the health insurance that covers adam's condition. but he can, technically, marry one.
Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak by triedunture
M • 14k • angel/demon (south downs) where pre-relationship aziraphale and crowley retire and move to the south downs cottage before ever talking about their feelings, and come together as they learn to live in tandem.
the bucket list by darcylindbergh
E • 44k • angel/demon (south downs) technically still a wip, but it's been left at a satisfying, conclusive point. after armageddon, pre-relationship crowley and aziraphale decide to work through a list of human activities they haven't done before. they go travelling and dining together, try out hobbies, and end up in a south downs cottage. communication angst as they try to work out what they want from life, and each other.
Of burnt books and courting Crowley by robynvite
E • 11k • angel/demon (post s1) "a year after Armageddon't, Aziraphale finds out two pieces of very startling news: One, Newt and Anathema burned the sequel to Agnes Nutter's Nice and Accurate Prophecies. Two, Crowley was in love with him, and had been since the Beginning." aziraphale attempts to court crowley when he finds out crowley loves him.
Slow Show by mia_ugly
E • 95k • human AU (actors) "two ineffable co-stars only take four seasons of an award-winning television program to realize they’re on their own side." crowley is a washed up PR nightmare and aziraphale is in the closet, married to a beard. crowley is in love with him, and aziraphale falls over the course of the show.
South Downs by summerofspock
E • 76k • human AU (actors) this time, aziraphale is out and proud, whilst crowley needs some help figuring it out. "Blackballed from the industry ten years ago, Anthony Crowley jumps at the chance to star in a new Regency romance miniseries with well-known gay actor Aziraphale Fell in the hopes that it will help him restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley has played all sorts of characters and for the life of him, he can't figure out why he's struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man."
Not a Mounted Dildo but a Fuck Machine by NaroMoreau, summerofspock
E • 35k • human AU (roommates) "When Aziraphale meets a nice girl on Tinder who he thinks is his perfect match, he's delighted. There's just one hurdle: that pesky virginity thing. Lucky for him, Crowley has always been there for him. He's helped Aziraphale with every other problem through the years, why not this one?"
Intermezzo by FeralTuxedo
E • 47k • human AU (musician/journalist) Music critic Aziraphale Fell is trying to break into the world of television, when he is signed to make a documentary about former-rockstar-turned-composer Anthony Crowley. It’s been eleven years since Aziraphale’s disastrous review of Crowley’s debut opera nipped his classical music career in the bud. He can only hope that Crowley will get over his admittedly justified grudge to make the TV show a success.
side note: i officially love everything feraltuxedo has ever written. their library is a slew of human AUs in all kinds of settings with varying wordcounts. they are a GIFT
Joint Honours by FeralTuxedo
E • 43k • human AU (university students) aziraphale (phd) and crowley (undergrad) live in the same student share house. they get involved before they realise crowley is a student in aziraphale's seminars. spicy drama of them trying to keep their relationship hidden + aziraphale getting his work plagarised
it's a new craze by attheborder
T • 5k • angel/demon (post armageddon) aziraphale and crowley start an advice podcast. dialogue only, with comments from listeners speculating about their relationship and potential immortality
Petrichor & Parchment by MrsNoggin
E • 33k • human AU (gardener crowley) aziraphale, a restorer of antique books, moves to a cottage in tadfield. the garden is a mess. he hires a local landscaper to sort it out. aziraphale takes his work outside and ogles.
The 21st Century, In Which They Finally Work It Out by chaya
E • 22k • angel/demon (post armageddon) crowley tries furthering their relationship after armageddon. he has to go extremely slowly so as not to spook aziraphale, but eventually they find themselves on romantic weekend getaway, in a lodge under the northern lights.
Waking Up Slow by the_moonmoth
E • 88k • human AU (lockdown roommates) aziraphale and crowley are strangers who have to quarantine together in aziraphale's cottage. exquisitely romantic mutual pining over the course of two weeks, with cosy fireplace cuddling, walking around in towel, and strip poker.
Have you told him by cyankelpie
G • 7k • angel/demon (through the ages) aziraphale can sense love, and can tell crowley is deep in it. he can only assume he's fallen for a human. again, and again, and again, and again.
The Bizarre Demons of AZ Fell & Co Antique Booksellers by WorseOmens
T • 8k • angel/demon (buzzfeed unsolved crossover) a fuckin hilarious crossover fic presented as an episode of buzzfeed unsolved, where the ghoul boys visit the bookshop and commune with crowley through a spirit box
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the-cooler-kira · 2 years
Note
I just read your hc! of Jotaro with a affectionate girlfriend, could we have part 4 version and how he deals with jealousy?
4taro dealing with his jealousy over his affectionate wife
MASTERLIST
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Since Egypt, he's been more willing to endure the PDA. Mainly because that trip made him realise how human lives can easily fade out in a flash and it's a reminder that you're there. You're alive. You're with him.
On the other hand, he also gets jealous. A lot more than he used to.
He knows that you show love, both romantically and platonically, through physical affection and he knows it's practically second nature for you to hug your friends and share drinks with them without airing it. He knows. But that won't stop him from getting jealous.
I'd say it partially comes from being insecure. Your friends seem to be so much better than him. Talkative, not emotionally closed off, more likely to reciprocate your platonic PDA.
Sometimes he thinks it's selfish for him to be with you because of how different you are, so it takes a lot of reassurance from you. And not just with cuddles.
If you actually express your feelings verbally it would mean a lot more, because he sees how you'll hug just about anyone.
You hugged Josuke one time because you were proud of him and Jotaro dug his nails into the palm of his hand to restrain himself from doing anything rash.
Okuyasu was not so lucky.
He seems to like milfs (source: Tomoko and Shigechi's mum), so you can imagine how it went down when he met you and little seven-year-old Jolyne... especially when he didn't realise that was in fact Jotaro's family.
"I'm gonna head back to the hotel. See you guys later!" You waved goodbye as your other hand was occupied with your daughter's tiny hand. Spinning on your heel, you walked away and made for the hotel you and your family were staying at, just like you said.
"Not gonna lie, she's hot." Okuyasu blurted out and smirked.
"Okuyasu!" Koichi and Josuke yelled in response.
"What!?"
"That's my niece-in-law," Josuke began. "If that's a thing."
"Huh?" The more confident of the trio tilted his head in pure confusion.
"Oh my God- that's Jotaro's wife!" Josuke exaggerated his hand gestures as he motioned towards the adult that could feel his blood boiling at the very second.
Okuyasu felt his heart drop as soon as he was sent a ice cold, stern glare from the former delinquent. "You may still be a kid, but I won't hesitate to snap your neck like a twig if you continue with those remarks towards her. Do I make myself clear?"
"Y-yes sir!" Okuyasu was immensely regretting all of his life choices.
"That goes for all of you." He glanced at the other two students, who were petrified on their friends behalf.
"We know!"
"You'll only address her as Mrs. Kujo from now on, got it?"
"Yes sir!"
So he may have gotten a little verbally violent... oh well.
He had to remind himself that they are just kids and they'd never do anything weird, neither would you. You know, because you're not a criminal.
Speaking of kids, however, seeing Jolyne really calms him down for various reasons. One is that he was able to have such a cute little girl, and it was only possible with you.
The fact that you were even willing to start a family with him really makes his heart swell, and reminds him that he doesn't need to be jealous.
After a long day of work, coming home to see your little girl snuggled up on your chest settles his mind and he's able to forget his worries for a while.
During part 4, there weren't many other adults that Jotaro was in immediate contact with. There was only two main ones: one being the serial killer with a hand fetish, and the other being the ever-curious and work-driven mangaka.
Now for your friends, well you're more busy these days that you barely see them. Between taking care of your daughter, trying to spend time with Jotaro, and managing any other responsibilities you may have... there just isn't enough time.
This is enough for Jotaro, however. Enough for his envious tendencies to calm down and maybe even indulge more in your PDA.
"I love you, Jotaro." You said as you hung your arms around the back of his neck.
"I love you too, (Y/N)." He put his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. "More than anything."
"Since when did you become a softie?" You joked.
"Gimme a break," he sighed as he pressed your foreheads together.
hope it was okay @needy-self-ship-jjba
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just-jordie-things · 1 year
Note
Could you do 7 and 73 from the kiss prompt list with Megumi? (It’s ok if you only want to do 1)!! Thanks ✌🏾❤️
(repost!) i'm doing both bc 73 might be my fav <3
7: "I've Missed You" Kiss 73: Height Difference Kisses Where One Person Has To Bend Down And The Other Has To Stand On Their Tippy Toes
**aged up characters!!** ___
you enjoyed traveling for more advanced missions. it made a great sense of pride swell inside of you to know you were qualified to take down a grade one curse currently terrorizing hong kong. you also enjoyed exploring new areas, learning about new cultures and more specifically their food.
since being promoted to a grade two sorcerer, however, the elders have been sending you off on one assignment after another. so much so you've been bringing your school assignments with you just to keep up with the rest of your classmates. it was tiring, spending every minute of your day either exorcizing a curse or studying calculus- the former of which coming easier to you, claws and fangs and all.
but you'd been away from jujutsu tech for three weeks now. nearly the whole month. and you were starting to lose your excitement about your promotion.
and meanwhile at jujutsu tech, megumi was starting to feel the same way.
he was proud of you for achieving the promotion you'd worked so hard to earn, he felt strongly that you'd deserved it, and had worked hard alongside you to help you earn it. and at first he enjoyed hearing about your trips, too. sometimes you'd bring him gifts from the places you went, a little souvenir, or a carefully packaged treat for him to try. while it made his heart stutter that you'd bring him something and not your other classmates, he found it sweet of you.
but three weeks was a long time. yeah, you texted back and forth here and there, but megumi was terrible at starting conversation, and he refused to send a simple 'hey'. he found it lame. even though yuuji bugged him about texting you more to show his interest, he didn't want to send you empty texts. he wanted to have real conversation. like you shared when you were here.
while yuuji and nobara hadn't noticed megumi's fondness of you while you were still at jujutsu tech, it was made abundantly clear to them once you were gone. their sea-urchin-haired friend seemed even grumpier than usual. his frown was his resting face. his patience was always worn thin. he refused their every offer to hang out.
it was obvious he was missing you, and it was obvious you were what brought him out of his shell- even just a little bit.
and of course when nobara and yuuji had pieced this together, they were relentlessly vicious. but they had to be. their resident gremlin had a crush on a ray of sunshine that rivaled yuuji's never-ending joy? naturally they involved themselves.
when you received a call from gojo saying that you were to be sent home from your mission early, you were defensive at first.
"you think i can't handle this? i've already found the source of the curse, i'm staking it out right now. have you not read my reports? i've been tracking this thing for weeks-!"
"megumi's been hurt"
your sensei said more than just that, but the rest of his explanation was an echoed haze in your ear as you made haste in returning to your hotel to retrieve your things. all you really gathered was that your reports have been wired to a student from the kyoto school also looking to make a debut as a grade two, and that you were to take the first flight to tokyo available.
it's not until you're on the plane that you realized in your rushed packing that you'd left your phone charger on the bedside table, and your favorite shampoo in the shower. but the time to chastise yourself for not paying better attention would have to wait, because your anxiety about returning home was poisoning your every thought.
surely gojo had explained megumi's situation to you, but now that you think about it to try and prepare yourself for what you're returning home to, you can't recall what he'd said. an exorcism gone wrong? an attack on the school? an accident in training? you raked your memory for what it could have been that caused megumi to be in such poor condition that you've been instructed to return to tokyo right away, but you can't remember it now.
you're the striking image of worried sick. your foot is tapping rapidly against the ground. your eyes glazed over and unblinking as you stare out the small window at the white-nothingness of clouds you're flying through. there's music playing in your headphones but you're deaf to anything but your uneven heartbeat.
when you land at the airport you'd even forgotten to pick up the bag you'd had checked. ijichi had to convince you to go back for it before he took you to the school.
in hindsight, ijichi probably should have found it strange the way you'd only asked how megumi was doing in that strained, concerned voice you had. when he'd told you that the young sorcerer was doing as well as he could be, he should have questioned why you seemed to wince. but he'd brushed it off as young love being the tricky thing he is and thought he was doing you a favor by not asking any questions. it wasn't his business after all.
you forgot- or left- your bags in the car when you arrived at jujutsu tech. in fact, you'd practically flung the door open and leapt out before ijichi had put the car in park. his hollers at you to be careful and slow down were distant as you raced through the front gates and up the stairs of the main hall at a speed that rivalled light itself.
you weren't even sure if you'd made it in time, or where you should head first, the infirmary or megumi's dorm, and your mind was a twisted haze of nasty thoughts. concern. guilt. love. regret. failure. they all had your heart beating so irregularly that another sprint like the one you'd just sent yourself on would probably knock the poor overworked muscle out and send you to an early grave.
but just to your luck, your heart leapt back to life as soon as you turned the corner to head to megumi's dorm first, since it would be the closest.
your sneakers skid to such a fast stop that their squeak on the linoleum echos through the corridor. a gasp escapes your throat before words can and your eyes are bulging out of their sockets because right there standing in the hallway is fushiguro megumi and he seems to be in the perfect condition of health.
and megumi, the poor sorcerer who had just been taking a walk to the library, is so surprised to find you standing before him- panting so hard your chest is heaving at a concerning rate- that he wears almost your same expression.
"(y/n)?"
"megumi?"
your confusion is displayed at the same time, both of you certain that the other is in the wrong place. but before either of you can ask what you're doing here, you're legs are pushing you again and you're leaping into his arms.
megumi has to scramble to catch you as you crash into his chest, your arms flinging around his neck in a flailing, uncoordinated motion before tightening around him so much he wheezes a bit into your hair. it's a bit of a painful reunion, not to mention confusing, but megumi welcomes your embrace nonetheless. his own arms wrap around your waist and he returns your snug hold with just as much enthusiasm.
the moment is peaceful for a mere few seconds, before you're releasing him, standing flat on the ground and staring up at him with wandering, worried eyes.
"are you alright? you must be, you're standing here, but gojo said- did you get hurt? was there an accident?" you're rambling fast and your words are slurring into one another but megumi's grown used to your (and yuuji's) fast paced speech enough to follow along.
"i'm fine?" he says, and it sounds like a question as his brows pinch together. "i'm just surprised to see you, i didn't think you'd be back until june"
"well i- well i would have been- but- but you were hurt," you explain, still stammering as your heart and mind are playing catch up with the fact that your so beloved megumi didn't seem to be hurt at all. it was like mental gymnastics, trying to calm down as the reality was standing before you, perfectly unharmed. perfectly perfect. "gojo said i needed to come back right away, i thought- i thought..."
you trail off, unable to find the words to explain the heavy dread that had rested on you for the last ten hours of traveling it took you to get here.
megumi shakes his head, a humorless scoff escaping him.
"well i don't know why he would do such a thing," he explains. "i haven't even been given a mission in, like, three days"
while you want to scold gojo for playing such a cruel trick on you, you're too overwhelmed by your relief to care too much about it. it shines through as you finally give him a smile, and a final sigh helps to even out your breathing.
he was fine. he was perfect. he was right there in front of you.
"i missed you," you say, before you can really think about the weight of the words, but even as your cheeks feel warm with a creeping blush, you don't care. it was true. "a lot, actually" you admit softly after a beat passes.
megumi opens his mouth to say something, to tell you he missed you too, or that he was glad to have you back so soon, but before he can commit to the words you're stepping into the space between you and you're on the tips of your toes. his wide eyes fall shut when your hands brace themselves gently against his shoulders and without an ounce of hesitation your lips collide with his.
his shock at seen you had barely worn off before he's shocked again by you kissing him, but just as your presence was, your kiss was welcomes warmly. any lingering nerves or shyness escapes megumi as his hands instinctively reach to your jaw, cupping your face as firmly but delicately as he could as he craned his neck down to deepen your kiss before you could pull away too soon.
your heart is soaring as you shuffle on the tips of your toes to press as close to him as you can, no amount of closeness, of warmth, being enough. his kisses are gentle, his lips soft as they prod and slide against yours, and even though your lungs are running out of air it seems he has no such issue, and continues to lock your lips against his.
you can tell that he's been waiting to do this for a long while, just as you.
when you do finally pull away, and only because you must gasp for air or else you'll pass out in his arms, your grin is unfiltered.
"i missed you too," megumi confesses as you rest down to your normal height. his own grin mirrors yours, and his hands remain on your face, thumbs stroking delicate shapes into your skin. "a lot" he repeats your words.
a breathless laugh escapes you, and he can't help but to lean down to steal one more chaste peck.
"but we have to go deal with gojo now, right?" you hum, and megumi nods at his thoughts put to your voice.
"i have a feeling we'll have to deal with yuuji and nobara, too" he says with irritation.
and while you're both upset about the cause of your reunion, you head off planning your revenge hand in hand. ___
a/n: gojo satoru definitely doesn't understand range when it comes to pranks. if anyone watches new girl he's literally winston bishop. xoxo ~ jordie
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