#GIVE UR ARMS A BREAK BUDDY

[kaitaiga]

Bro idk who I thought I was yesterday but I decided to get in a core workout (I rarely do them, shame on you Kai) and now I’m in PAIN

[verstappen-cult]

I would LOVE a part two of the birthday drabble if ur open to that? maybe how max tries to ask for reader’s forgiveness? maybe asking Charles for help but he’s just like “no u gotta figure it out on ur own this time buddy” bc he’s mad at him too?

PART ONE. Max totally blanks on your birthday plans and it’s not pretty.

Max is pacing around the kitchen when you wake up the next morning. When his gaze snaps up to meet yours, you can see the bags under his eyes. You think about reaching for him when you remember what happened, so, you simply walk past him to make some coffee.

“Good morning, schat.” He whispers, looking down. You’re still very much hurt but seeing him like this breaks your heart. 

Maybe you’re being too mean, giving him the cold shoulder and not even meeting his eyes, but you also think about what your best friend said last night when you called her crying. He needs to sort out his priorities and give you what you deserve. And you also need to stand up for yourself, you’ve let Max get away with similar things in the past and it’s time for that to stop. 

“Good morning,” Charles says as he enters the kitchen. He looks at Max but doesn’t say anything when he sees his eyes filled with tears. You’re hurt but he’s angry. “Want me to drive to your appointment?” 

“Mmh.” You nod, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your room. 

Charles opens the fridge and tries to look busy waiting for Max to get the fuck out of the kitchen. But that doesn’t happen and he is forced to close the door and face his boyfriend. 

“Have you talked to her?” Max asks him, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“Yea’,” Charles simply answers, trying to choose between an apple or banana for breakfast. You or Max are the ones always cooking because Charles just can’t do it, but you’re not in the mood to make breakfast and he’s definitely not gonna ask Max. “I’m not the one who fucked everything up.” 

“I’m sorry, okay? I just—I didn’t forget, but there were—”

“I don’t fucking care, Max. It was her birthday! It was supposed to be special but instead of enjoying the one day—the only day she really asks for our attention, she cried all the way home.”  

Max feels like crying again. He feels awful but doesn’t know what to do to make things better. 

The Dutchman opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Charles holds his palm up, shutting him up. 

“I won’t tell you what to do, you need to figure that out by yourself.” 

Charles storms out of the kitchen, leaving a sad Max behind. 

You don’t say goodbye when you leave but Charles, at least, tells him that they should be home by eight, to not wait for them because they will be having lunch together. He doesn’t ask Max if he wants to join. 

Max doesn’t know what to do. 

You’ve never been this angry before. Charles is a different story, they’ve been racing their whole lives together, so, he has seen parts of Charles you don’t even know. 

Max thinks about calling his mom to ask her for advice, God, even calling his sister, but rejects the idea because he knows what they will say. 

It’s all his fault. Stupid Max, stupid SimRacing—

Max gets up from the couch, he doesn’t know how much has passed since you left, but the sun is already sitting down. 

When Max enters his streaming room he wants to cry again. And he does. 

He cries as he disconnects everything. He cries when he smashes the camera onto the floor. He cries while throwing a chair across the room, crashing against the wall. He cries looking at the mess he made, the mess he is.

Max falls to the floor and cries, and cries, and cries, until he feels two strong arms around him and soft words spoken into his ear. 

“Max, breathe with me, please,” Charles begs, caressing his back and lifting his chin up with his free hand. Max’s gaze focuses on his face as he imitates his boyfriend, inhaling and exhaling slowly. It takes some time, but Max eventually stops shaking. “Oh, Max. What did you do?” Charles sounds so broken and disappointed, Max doesn’t want him to feel like that. He’s done so much already. 

Max starts crying again. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Charles wipes his tears and kisses his eyelids. 

Max doesn’t deserve this. 

“Hey, love.” Max turns his head around at the sound of your voice. You crouch down next to him, a soft smile dancing on your lips. “Would you drink this, please? For me?” He doesn’t need to be asked twice. You guide the glass to his lips and he drinks the water — with a little bit of sugar you always add when you’re not feeling okay. 

Max wants to talk, he wants to apologize again, he wants to scream at you and Charles for being so attentive with him when he doesn’t deserve it. But he feels so tired, all he can do is lean into your touch when you cradle his face with both your hands, palms comfortable against the stubble on his cheeks. 

“We’re gonna buy new things and me and Charles will help you set everything up, okay?”

Max wants to scream. Instead, he barely has the voice to say, “I don’t want any of this. I fucked up because of this stupid shit.”

“Max,” Charles calls his name, moving around so he’s sitting next to you. “You love it.”

“I love you more.” He simply says, looking between you and Charles. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” He lets silent tears fall down his cheeks. 

“I know you’re sorry.” You lean to leave a kiss on his forehead, then, you look directly into his eyes. “I’m still hurt, Max. I won’t lie. We need to have a long conversation, the three of us, but I don’t want you to quit something that you love and enjoy so much. I just,” You notice you’re crying when Max wipes the tears with his thumb. “I want to be a priority in your life.”

“And you are!” He wants to smash his head onto the floor. “God you,” He takes your hand, lips quivering. “and you,” He takes Charles’s hand then. He guides them to his chest, just where his heart is. “are the most important people in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

There’s still so much to say but, for right now, you just want to be as close as possible. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to go from here.

[the-moon-files]

I was actually thinking about this a lot but like as an add on to your humans are hylian space orcs thing. I am in ✨need✨ of reader trying potions. Like;

"This potion will restore your stamina and boost your strength"

"Buddy that's just coffee"

"Qué?"

Even worse if when the reader tries it it's just like the most not strong coffee they've ever drank. Makes the guys wonder wtf makes humans need so much energy through out the day.

this is such a cute idea, i love how diet diffs/energy diffs in humans are space orcs aus, so genius to apply to hylians

the stamnia boost potion tastes just like instant coffee with powdered creamer (the kind at like car dealerships/shitty offices where its not even a little liquid creamer)

and u spit that shit out like wtf is this bs

and Four, poor guy who gave you some after talking a break from walking, is like "oh my goddess r u allergic?? can still breath???"

meanwhile ur like. "yeah this just tastes like shit-"

four: "oh well yeah, all potions do really-"

you: "-ty coffee. this is nowhere near strong enough to get me back on my feet ffs"

four: " 👁️👄👁️"

you: "u got anything stronger? :/ "

four: " w h a t ? "

cue u researching how to make stamnia potions, across the hyrules, and making them 10x stronger so theyre like an actual coffee shop kind of coffee, and the Links are literally lowkey scared

Time forbids you (and the rest of the guys) from letting anyone else try ur "improved" elixir (s)

bc yes, u didnt stop at stamnia

u moved on to healing potions, (u can now regrow limbs and heal broken bones, the hylians can only take like a 1/16th of a sip like once a week, whereas u chug the whole thing, and can do so multiple times a day if needed)

u also moved onto cooking, bc rlly how different is cooking from alchemy?

and goron spice tasted like goddamn dorito chips, so u used essence of literal lava to help make it more spicy,

ur not allowed to introduce this new spice to the gorons, Wild forbid, bc he was adventurous enough (and snuck behind Time and ur backs) to try some spice

(he literally touched the tip of his pinky finger to it, wiped it off, except for 1 like flake of spice too)

and it lowkey nearly killed him 💀

like had to use that 1/16th of ur extra strong healing potion and everything

u felt so bad, but he did do this to himself,

and Wild knew the gorons dont back down from a challenge, esp since it was originally their recipe, so he (and you) didnt wanna kill them on accident

the sleeping potion u found is just like taking a single melatonin gummy, so u ofc make that thing knock even you out after 2 sips,

needless to say, no one is trying that one, not only bc it knocked Rulie unconcious for 12 hours straight (u got him to try it after he exhausted all his magic healing, and so no nightmares)

but bc it knocked u out cold for 9. that was the scarier part to them lmao, was how affected is their human by this?

i like to think thats how they judge unknown foods and liquids too,

like "do you think this tastes unseasoned? ok should be perfect for me then" - every Link

"oh this didnt make u feel sleepy at all/barely tired? great, id love to knock out cold w/no nightmares tonight" - Sky, probably

"this tastes like that thing you call, instant cough? ko-fee? Cool, give me some i need to run up this mountain" - Wild, for the 3rd time this month probably

"this barely healed ur papercut? sweet, give me some my wrists are killing me" - poor Legend, he uses ur extra strength healing potion as a way to treat his arthritis regularly once a month, but the more chill potions for any leftover aches and pains, esp after long fights being hard on his arms

Chain is simultaneously still lowkey terrified u need that much extra oomf, esp when u run out of stronger stuff and have to down like 5 health potions to heal a cut that needed stitches,

and also worried u need that much and also Wild/Wars/Rulie tend to work overtime to make sure they have extra potions for you

and theyre also kind of impressed, bc hey, youre unlikely to get magically poisoned/potion poisoned like them

☆

sorry i couldnt think of as much as i hoped, i think its bc i rlly just need to play/watch more loz games besides botw/totk

i like know the vague plot of ss/oot/mm/tp/ww/hw and og loz games, but havent gotten into details/lets play or anything yet

i hope this was at least a half decent idea to think about/expand on urs, have a great rest of ur week, and thanks so much for the ask!! <33

Peace out,

🌙

[wowcatboys]

HI honeyy I love ur blog!!! can u please write the headcanons for kayn and K/da f!reader...how do the two of them explain their relationship to their fans or maybe they give a moment in a few shows?

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HEARTSTEEL KAYN: K/DA READER ♡ Female Reader ♡ SFW, with slight touching/sensuality ♡ No TWs ♡ THIS GOT SO LONG. I am willing to write more for this situation, since I had to cut a lot of my OG ideas to make room for what felt the most important...truly Kayn floods my mind and cannot be expressed or exhausted

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KAYN

When Akali dragged you along to one of Kayn's birthday parties, all she wanted was a drinking buddy to keep her company while Kayn was doing, quote, "birthday boy shit". She wasn't expecting you and Kayn to hit it off so well. She definitely wasn't expecting to find you two wedged in a coat closet, shoving your tongues down each other's throats. She had two words for Kayn as she linked her arm in yours and tugged you out from between a leather jacket and an 80's windbreaker; "Do. not."

But, after two torturously long weeks of you never shutting up about Kayn during rehearsals, and Kayn texting her so much she has to threaten to block him for any sort of peace and quiet (at all hours of the night and day, "hey gimme your hot friend's number", over and over AND OVER AND OVER), Akali comes around. She's just worried for you. Kayn's got quite the reputation, and she doesn't want him to fuck around with you and break your heart. But, she figures, you're both adults, so who is she to stand in the way of whatever you've got going on. So she eventually texts Kayn your number, but not without a warning; "you remember I know martial arts, yeah? and that I can totally kick your fucking ass? don't break my girl's heart dipshit".

On the whole, K/DA supports your budding relationship with Kayn. Even though he's a bit wild, the group's whole thing is about being individual and true to yourself—it seems hypocritical to tell you that you can't be caught holding hands with Kayn in line at Chipotle anymore for the sake of the band's image.

Heartsteel is a bit more tentative about you and Kayn. Alune's nervous to have Kayn dating such a high-profile star when Heartsteel has literally JUST broken onto the scene. But, this is Kayn, after all. What are they going to ask him to do, stop seeing you? He wouldn't listen. Besides, you do seem like a good influence in his life, and if the way his eyes light up whenever he sees your name pop up on his phone screen say anything, he's crazy about you. Eventually Alune sways other management and teams to embrace your relationship, as long as the two of you try to keep it relatively low-key.

If anyone ever implies he's with you to boost Heartsteel's fame or that he's trying to ride K/DA's coattails to the top, Kayn blows up. "We don't need shit from anybody," he sneers, "we're gonna climb to the top all by our fucking selves. Oh, and if you think (Y/N) would settle for anything less than a born rockstar? You're fucking stupid."

For your part, you're more subtle when publicly discussing your relationship with Kayn, but you still shoot down any ideas that he's with you for your status. "Heartsteel definitely doesn't need K/DA's help," you assert. "They're superstars and they're earning their spot on the music scene fair and square."

Kayn is your absolute fucking biggest superfan. He knows your lyrics front-to-back, he shows up to every single event he can, and he even uses Ezreal's Mercari account to snag rare merch that's being resold. Kayn tries to play it cool, but come on. You've seen the amount of posters he tries to hide in his closet. Only a fanboy has a collection like that.

There's hundreds of paparazzi photos of you two floating around on the internet, and Kayn's got a love-hate relationship with that fact. On the one hand, he loves being seen with you—what better way to claim you as his own than a photo of him literally grabbing your ass on the cover of a trashy gossip mag? On the other hand, can't a guy get some goddamn privacy? He hates that he has to share you with anyone, prying 'journalists' included. To make light of it, though, you two have started a little game. You send each other the wildest claims you can find about your relationship, trying to one up the other. Kayn's still winning with the article claiming that he's exercising some kind of mind-control to make you his girlfriend.

Flipping off the camera and open-mouth kissing you is one of Kayn's favorite poses to strike if he notices paparazzi lurking. For your part? You're just happy for his attention.

Kayn loves when you sneak into his shows. You usually have to wear a hoodie and go incognito to avoid getting mobbed, but don't worry, Kayn can pick you out of a crowd no matter what you're wearing. Sometimes, if you're standing close enough to the stage, he'll take off his shirt and toss it at you. He gets off on the attention, on thousands of people all-but-worshipping him, and if his favorite person is in the throng, knowing his worst parts but screaming for him alongside everyone else, just the same? Ego-boost of the fucking century. He may not express it to you often, but he really, really appreciates when you come see his shows.

Your packed schedules present a challenge, and Kayn despises the fact that you're often touring hours away from him. He still tries to talk to you as much as possible, even if it's not in person. Expect daily FaceTime calls, frequent Discord DM's, and around the clock blurry pictures of Kayn causing mischief.

Bless Akali's heart because Kayn absolutely harasses her about you. Whenever you're busy, he bugs her; "tell my gf to come back from the ded". Anytime you're on tour, he Venmoes her money to buy you your favorite fast food. She complains to you constantly—"tell your purse dog to stop yipping at me"— but really, she doesn't mind spoiling you by proxy. She's just happy that Kayn dotes on you so much.

Kayn jokes about making you late for rehearsal a lot—especially if he's halfway down your neck in a heated makeout sesh—but the truth is, that's never going to happen. Sure, he dicks around a lot, but he never gives less than one-hundred-and-ten to Heartsteel and he's not about to let you slack off, either. That includes making sure you get to your K/DA commitments on time (even if your neck is littered with hickies).

Kayn loves when you show him your choreography. He listens intently as you explain how to go through the steps, or complain about what you're struggling with. Often, he'll offer critique; "you look a little off-balance, try standing this way," or "Have you tried positioning a little more to the left?". Sometimes, these are genuine tips. Most of the time, though, he's just looking for an excuse to feel you up. What better way to sneakily touch your boobs than "suggesting" your chest needs to come out more?

[savage-rhi]

hi hope you’re well!! id like to request sharing a bed with ignis (or all ffxv boys! up to you!) for the first time please! like there’s only one bed or the booking at hotel went wrong ! it’s up to you! dw if you don’t want to do it :) love ur work!

"This is just peachy..." The sarcasm rolled off Gladio's tongue like molasses as he shot Ignis a glare. "You just had to let blondie down there take care of the booking."

Ignis sighed as he scrunched his legs up further into his chest, trying to give Gladio and their fifth guest more room at the front of the bed. He grunted before addressing the crude remark.

"Tending to Y/N at the time was more important than keeping an eye out on Prompto's sense of rationale."

"Hey!" Prompto exclaimed as he shot up from the foot of the bed. He shoved Gladio's left foot away, grimacing at the aroma that wafted from his calloused toes. "When the receptionist said they had a suite, I assume that means a big space. Where I'm from, a big space means more room which means having more than one bed!"

"There's a reason you didn't pass algebra." Noctis quipped. He earned a swift kick to his side from Prompto and nearly fell off the mattress while he yelped.

"You're one to talk Noct, you only passed the tenth grade cause you copied my material!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not--!"

"Guys, not for nothing, but I'd like to sleep." Y/N sighed.

"Y/N's right," Ignis muttered. "We have a big day ahead of us and it's already late. Let us try to make the best out of the situation."

"Fine, whatever." Noctis breathed. He adjusted his body, lying on his side and facing away from Ignis's legs. He thanked the gods for not being in Prompto's position when it came to catching a whiff of Gladio's feet. The swampy smell was still there from their time in Duscae, and Noctis let out a grunt when he felt nausea pool briefly in his chest.

"You okay down there, Noct?" Y/N asked.

"Yep!" Noctis sighed.

"Good," Y/N tried to keep their eyes upon the ceiling in a vain attempt to ignore the fact they were sandwiched in between both Ignis and Gladio. All the while, their feet were pressed upon Noctis and Prompto. Had they not felt self-conscious being amongst four guys in a single bed, Y/N would've seen the hilarity in all this. How the whole gang was basically crammed onto the mattress like a posse of clowns trapped inside a small vehicle.

"Uh," Y/N made a face as they snapped out of their thoughts. "Gladio, I think you're touching my butt."

"Sorry, my bad!"

"Y/N," Ignis turned his head, raising his voice ever so slight. "This may seem awkward, but we may be able to give Gladio and yourself more wiggle room if you bundle up to me."

"Smooth one, specs." Noctis teased. He let out a wince when Ignis not so subtly jabbed his face with his right foot. Prompto could be heard giggling into his palms at the incident.

Y/N growled a little in their throat. As much as they had grown to enjoy the antics of the boys, now was not the time. Nonetheless, they went through the motions. Their body curled up against Ignis until they were practically spooning the man from behind.

"Finally, I can stretch!" Gladio yawned. He gently reached over and nudged Y/N. "Thanks for taking one for the team."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Y/N muttered in reply. They felt Ignis reach for them, gently coaxing Y/N to put an arm around his waist.

"You sure this is alright?" Y/N tried to whisper against the back of Ignis's head.

"Positive," He replied. "Besides, this will lower the risk of having you wake in a compromising position with anybody."

Y/N quietly laughed at the remark. "Kinda late for that, but okay."

"He's a gentleman like that!" Prompto interjected. He let out an uncomfortable sigh as he moved around, causing the bed to creak. "Gladio, buddy, do you think you can move? You're taking up my side of the bed."

"Your side of the bed?!" Gladio exclaimed, feeling the last straw break the camels back. "This whole bed should've been my side of the bed but you screwed up!"

"And here I thought you liked slumber parties!" Prompto jabbed playfully.

"I outta--!"

"Hey!" Noctis rose up. "You two, shut the hell up and go to sleep! Enough of the cat fight!"

"How about you shut up for a change?" Gladio countered.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Guys, c'mon...I already gotta smell Gladio's fungus feet and I don't want the bed turning into a battle arena!"

"Fungus feet?!"

Y/N shook their head against Ignis, letting out a sigh of disbelief as the commotion between the three pressed on. The gentle squeeze Ignis offered had them slightly perk up.

"They're always like this," Ignis reassured. "And the feelings are mutual, by the way."

The tired reply Ignis gave had Y/N smile from ear to ear, and somehow they could feel themself drifting away among the bantering. Tomorrow would come soon.

If you like my work and feel generous, feel free to donate to my ko-fi account or my cash app account!

Cash App: $JayRex1463

[judeswhore]

being trent fuck buddy but he starts catching feelings so he becomes more passionate, clingy and stays longer after sex and reader is like 😮??!

sleeping together one night after a match and something abt the sex just feels so different this time. it’s so much more intense and he’s being so slow, dragging it out a lot more than usual and he’s even said fuck it to his favourite position bc he wants u in missionary so he can kiss u and tuck his face into ur neck and watch the way ur eyes roll when he finally makes u cum. and afterwards he usually leaves straight away, giving u some excuse abt needing to be up early in the morning or wtv but u know it’s just bc he doesn’t wna sleep over and blur the lines of ur agreement. (he definitely told u not to fall in love w him but he’s the one that’s caught feelings first). but this time he’s staying cuddled up in ur bed, pulling u over into his side so he can trail his fingers up and down ur arm all soft and soothing. and ur laying there so confused bc this has never happened before and ur really baffled abt why it is now? he’s confusing u even more bc he’s going to grab u some water from the kitchen and brings back a load of snacks too and he’s all “i thought we could watch that new horror movie you’ve been talking abt” and ur laying there all???? bc there’s no way this is happening. but ur too scared to ask what he’s doing in case it breaks the little bubble and he leaves bc this is what you’ve been wanting for a while now. and so u just spend the rest of the night watching movies, refusing to address the fact trent hasn’t left yet and ur reeling when he’s all “can i use ur shower? saves me going home in the morning���

[danikamariewrites]

So first just finished Fourth Wing and I would just like to say the ending was disgusting wonderful. That’s all imma say about it. And second, could you do one with Xaden and reader where they just go for a night time flight?

I know you did the picnic but a nightly flight of them and their dragons having fun and relaxing sounds wonderful after the headache this book has given me.

Night Flight

Xaden x reader

A/n: I loved the cliffhanger and I can’t wait for book 2 in November! Enjoy this fluffy fic anon I hope it helps ur headache 😭 in this fic Tairn chose reader so reader and Xaden have that mind to mind connection

Warnings: none

After you finished dinner you excused yourself from the table. Liam rose with you but you shook your head, “Take the night off buddy.” He sat back down, hands raised in front of him. You walk past the leadership table and lock eyes with Xaden. He gives you a slight tilt of his head and you wink at him.

About forty minutes later with your cloak clasped around you, you waited in the shadows by the secret entrance to the flight field. You feel shadows twine around your legs and arms. Xaden steps out of the darkness, a smirk dancing on his full lips.

He pulls you by your waist for a kiss. Leaning his forehead on yours he whispers, “I'm happy you wanted to come with me tonight.”

“Me too.” Xaden’s hand slides to yours as he leads you down the passage.

Exiting onto the field you spot Tairn and Sgaeyl nuzzling each other. It always shocked you to see the two dragons in love. You’d find it sweet if they weren’t terrifying.

“I can hear you, girl.” Tairn said in your head. “I know that’s why I thought it.” You shot back.

You laughed at Tairn and he let out an annoyed huff. Xaden chuckles, “Aww you think they’re cute.” Blush covers the apples of your cheeks. You playfully push at his chest. “Shut up,” you laugh.

Xaden gives you a playful look. “Oh, you’ve done it now.” Your eyes widen and you try to run to Tairn but Xaden catches you first. Letting out a playful screech, he throws you over his shoulder and spins.

Xaden brings you to face him, clutching you to his chest, your feet hovering above the ground. “Come on man, let me go.” He shakes his head. “Nope. Not until you say sorry.” You let your head fall back. “Fine. I’m…not sorry.” He feigns shock. “Wow. I can’t believe this. My girlfriend hurt me and she won’t apologize.”

You scoff at the accusation. “Oh please. Like I could break through this muscle.” Prodding at his chest to prove your point. Xaden puts you down. You walk over to your dragons and mount, ready for your late night flying date.

A few months into your relationship Xaden was still a little reserved. You understood and trusted him. But one night you were particularly pushy and demanded to know where he had been.

Xaden had been disappearing a few nights a week, by himself, which freaked you out. You had went to Liam with your concerns and he told you Xaden was fine. After seeing how worried you were Xaden finally told you his secret.

It wasn't a big deal, he just liked to go night flying alone sometimes. After you both talked about it you felt relieved that he wasn't doing something stupid or dangerous.

After that, he started to open up more about things he liked to do or just random facts about him. He wanted to share things with you. You fell more in love with him. It meant he trusted you as you trusted him. And you would never betray that trust.

Flying across the lake you felt Xaden tapping on your mind. “Wanna do something fun?” You look at him across Tairn’s wings and nod.

He shoots you a wicked grin as Sgaeyl shoots upward. Tairn is quick to follow. They climb and climb at breakneck speed, heading straight through the clouds blocking out the stars.

You let out an uncontrolled laugh, gripping onto Tairn for dear life. As you start to cut through the clouds you lose sight of Xaden. You tuck your head in, attempting to lay flat to Tairn.

You feel him in your mind still, “It’s ok, I’m right ahead of you.” “I know.” You send him a smile, “I love you Xaden.” “I love you too y/n.”

Feeling the cool mist of the clouds was refreshing. You took in the moment and felt lucky to be able to touch the sky with the man you love flying next to you.

Breaking through the clouds Tairn evens out as he and Sgaeyl circle each other. Looking up, your breath catches at the beauty of the night sky. The stars glitter and the full moon is bright. Smiling, you look over to Xaden.

He's watching you take in the view. His lips are set in a genuine loving smile. He's grateful to be here with you. To share parts of himself with you.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane

[alornights]

HII ur romance tropes were so cute and now holiday romance w kyle wont leave my brain !!!!! do u think u could write a little more for it??? like maybe interacting w him at the party or like kyle and stan talking ab seeing us 😭 all ur writing is fr so sweet

⟢ something new.

➜ in which ! kyle finds a holiday romance.

💌 ﹫kyle broflovski.

✩ 🎸 warnings﹗none.

🍓 ⟡ notes — this is kinda ass but i hope it fills ur brain <3 i did rewatch high school musical for this and troy literally is kinda like kyle. idk.

"I can't believe we're back here... again." Stan complained walking through the doors of the teen club.

Their families decided to vacation to Aspen again for winter break seeing as it was the perfect time for sledding. Where their parents were, probably drinking but who cares.

Kyle snorted looking around. "You think we'll find the girl who tried to have a romance with you as a kid."

Stan groaned covering his face. "Oh God, don't remind me of that. I hope she is as far away as possible."

Kyle laughed looking around the room before his gaze stopped at a girl who looked drop-dead gorgeous in the outfit she wore.

"Oh, my, god." Kyle muttered standing star-struck.

Stan tilted his head. "What? Don't tell me it's that Darby guy, if it is it's fucking payback time."

"No- who even cares about him," Kyle questioned giving his friend a look.

Stan shrugged with a grin, "Me. I need to get my payback."

"Ok," Kyle murmured with a straight face before slapping Stan's chest. "I just saw the most beautiful girl ever."

"You say that about every crush you've had."

"Ok, well, I'm being serious this time." Kyle retorted pointing to a girl talking with a bunch of other people.

Stan turned in that direction before nodding. "Oh shit, yeah. Go talk to her dude, she seems like the type to totally be into you."

"Are you insinuating something?"

Stan laughed with a grin. "Of course not buddy, just saying."

"Uh-huh," Kyle grumbled crossing his arms. "I'm not going to though."

"WHAT, WHY NOT?" Stan yelled grabbing Kyle's shoulders before shaking them. "This is your one shot to make a move on a girl without Cartman getting in your way dude!"

"Would it even matter though?" Kyle retorted, "It's known that holiday romances don't last, plus what if she lives far away."

"WHO CARES!" Stan exclaimed in disbelief, "You're into her, that's all that matters. So what if it's long distance and won't last, live in the moment Kyle!"

Kyle paused before shaking his head. "No way dude. That's just a recipe for disaster."

"Oh for fucks sake." Stan groaned throwing his hands in the air

"Oh my god, I am so sorry." Kyle

You shook your head quickly with a nervous smile. "No no, it's fine really!"

There was an awkward pause before Kyle began to speak, "Um- I'm Kyle, you look really good- or uh nice."

Your eyes widened before you smirked. "Just nice?"

"No of course not, you look stunning..." Kyle mumbled looking you up and down.

Smiling, you stuck out your hand. "I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you handsome."

He laughed shaking your hand before pulling you close to him, "Kyle."

[heygirltimeformorning]

🧢💍🤕 pretty pls my love

(yes narrowing it down was v hard!)

for your bath time reading, my dear:

🧢 super soldier AU [eddie is Captain America, buck is the Winter Soldier] - chaptered, Buddie, HEA

Buck’s body is, in some ways, the same. Eddie recognizes it in flashes. In some ways, it is very different - beyond just the bionic leg - and it takes time to relearn him, to relearn each other.

“Does it hurt?” They’re in Buck’s loft one morning - Buck doesn’t sleep over, scared of waking up somewhere he doesn’t recognize. Buck’s sprawled out in the bed, scrolling on his phone - a completely average super soldier. “Your leg, I mean.”

Buck’s fingers trail down to knead against the place his flesh meets the metal. “Only sometimes,” he says carefully, tossing his phone aside and rolling over so he can look at Eddie, framed in the door of the bathroom. “The LA weather is good for it. They used to send me —“ something shutters in Buck’s eyes, but he sighs, shoving through. “Anywhere cold sucked. It’s calibrated to my body temperature, but…” he rubs his fingers along the ridges again. “Still susceptible to cold.”

💍 housewife!Buck does the dishes and gets all up in his feels about Eddie. Oneshot, Buddie, a little pwp-y

Look, does Buck want to be Buck Diaz? Yes, more than anything. He loves Eddie - that isn’t a secret or something he’s trying to hide - not anymore. The months since he and Eddie had stumbled over matching confessions of love have been the best of Buck’s life - and that isn’t an exaggeration. It’s just, housewife is a joke they pass between each other. It’s a kink that Eddie cashes in on sometimes. It’s not anything other than that - until Buck thinks about it, and then it really, really is.

🤕 I’m Gonna Be Your Wound - [Buck & Eddie trapped together] oneshot, Buddie

They have a four-day stretch off, and for once, Eddie is the one unavailable (though not really - Eddie texted Chris that he was going to be unavailable for a few days, but that he’d check in once a day, and he got a chilly k in return, which, Buck supposes, is technically better than radio silence). 

The campsite they choose is a little crude, but it’s tidy and functional, and that night, they’re in the grass, arms pressed together, watching the stars, and Eddie blows out a breath and says “thanks, man,” and something warm and hopeful blooms in Buck’s chest.

Eddie wants to go on a hike the next morning, and Buck packs their backpacks with a couple bottles of water and some snacks and the first aid kit while Eddie walks the half a mile to get service on his phone to check in with Christopher. The conversation doesn’t go well, if the way Eddie’s shoulders are up by his ears when he gets back, but Buck doesn’t say anything (Buck doesn’t know what to say, he can’t fix this, despite desperately, desperately wanting to), handing Eddie’s backpack off to him, and they take off.

There’s something almost holy about it - giving themselves over to the physical exertion of it, the satisfaction of looking back at what they’ve walked to. It feels like progress, which both Buck and Eddie are in desperate need of at present.

They’re taking a water and snack break at the curve of a trail when Buck hears it - faint and half-imagined: a call for help. He taps Eddie’s bicep with his knuckles, and Eddie looks up from where he’d been fighting with a package of trail mix. “What?”

listen some of these are WAYYY more than three sentences, but just. pretend.

ty my lou for the emojis! now go get in ur bath yard <3

[lokidoctorpugs-wenclair-brainrot]

Part 2

Back @ nevermore months after the Addams family get together.

Ester: hello I'm here to request that my daughter be dormed w/ someone else preferably a boy for you see I think that Addams girl is a bad influence on her, and no daughter of mine is going to be a full lesbian you see.

Weems: I'm sorry to say but only students can decide whether or not to change dorm buddies/rooms unless it's a case of abuse or other such things

Ester: that's exact-

Weems: *clearly pissed of* Miss Addams does not abuse ur daughter, Sinclair, and I think this will conclude this meeting I've heard enough.

Ester >:O

Later @ the dorm

Enid: I'm not changing dorms!!!!

Ester: YES YOU ARE YOUNG LADY!!!

Enid: *scared* mom....Wednesdays my best friend....pls...

Ester: Wedne-

WA: SHUT THE HELL UP

ester not used to people calling her out: how *splash*

WA: Bad dog

Ester: *goes to attack*

WA: *shows silver dagger*

Ester: *stopping starting to get scared* Miss Addams you'd do well not to threaten me, I can take Enid out of this school if I need to.

WA: Really? Cause as I see it I'm the one in control here.

Ester: well you are mistaken

WA: *proceeds to dox*

Ester: *truly scared* h-how

WA: simple I'm Wednesday Addams

Ester: you little bitch, u corrupted my little girl

WA: well ain't that a bunch of bull shit may I remind you that, u tried to make her wolf out for years, but she wolfed out like nothing, when she thought I was in danger, and became the alpha of alpha of ur pack, Just ask all the people that have tried to get her attention

Ester: *terrified* maybe I was misguided...ha....ha

WA: I see that you are finally seeing who the alphas in this room are

Ester: (I need to teach this Addams girl a lesson I refuse to be lesser than her.) *Tries to attack*

WA: *blocks and breaks her arm* Let me remind you Ester, that any other person would already be dead were you are and only through ur daughters mercy am I showing any so behave MUTT!!

Ester: ok ok what do u want!!!???

WA: give control of Enid's school life to her, let her choose wether or not she even wants to associate w/ u or I swear to go-

Enid: that's enough Mi amour (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

WA: Ok Cara Mia (:<

Ester: wait ur...

Enid: yes mom, we are, so treat me well and her or u can call me Enid Addams.

WA: that wasn't in the script Sinclair, I'm rubbing off on you, I like that.

WA: you can go home ester

Ester runs away

Enid: it's late we should rest

WA: we shall,

Miss Addams.

[muniimyg]

40 | muse ✒️

series m.list

taglist: @kakixaku @boraength @4ksj @pamzn @jinsearth @fancycollectormoon @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @fan-ati--c @kthlvr30 @ellesalazar @taeees-world @sukunasrealgf @firesighgirl @jeonninja @bloopkook @butterymin @pinkseokchim​ @joonsjuice

warning: it’s a club scene y’all. ur typical fanfic yn getting hit on by someone else nd the love interests being 👊🏽😡 … take it as u will … implied violence (punch & a mini threat the guy deserves), angst angst aNGST 🤭

note: FRIENDS !!! this ch is the sole purpose of paraluman… i literally built an entire plot over this mere idea of conflict 😃 i hope u enj ,, as i will be taking a short break to update my other ongoing fics prewrite for the finale 🤡👍🏼 as always, ur thots nd reblogs are always appreciated <3 see u guys later

“No fucking way,” Taehyung gasps.

Taehyung is stressed—almost irritated with how you look tonight. He is in disbelief with how you walk in like you don’t know everyone is looking at you. Since Taehyung has always been a man of standards, evidently so, he doesn’t waste his time with people who don’t meet them. Tonight, it seems that you’ve exceeded them. As the sight of you settles in, he begins to get it. He finally understands why Jin and Jungkook are so obsessed with you.

Case in point: you look good. 

You look good and everyone here knows it. Nevermind that the club is filled, getting through the crowd doesn’t seem to be an issue for you. As people clear a way for you to walk through, you gently thank them. Now, everyone has their eyes on you for sure. It’s like a grand entrance of a rom com.

As the music blasts and the lights flash around the nightclub, your friends seem to have no problem fixating on you. You continue to make your way through the clearing crowd and stand before them with a warm smile. They are all gathered around a reserved lounge seating with drinks in their hands. It’s so nice to see everyone together. Of course, Yoongi isn’t here but this is as close to competition as your friend group can get.

Taehyung, who is already standing, greets you as he hands you a drink. You thank him sweetly and just as you’re about to sit down next to Nam Joon and Hoseok, Jimin purses his lips and makes a face at you. 

“What is it?” you demand, folding your arms together. You aren’t sure if he’s giving you that face because you disgust him or impress him. It’s really either or. “Something wrong with the way I look, Mr. Park—”

“No, you look beautiful,” Jimin admits smoothly before turning towards the direction of Jungkook and Jin. Jungkook and Jin raise their glasses to you, nodding nonchalantly. You tilt your head at them, unsure what to make of this image. You aren’t sure if they’re playing a trick on you or not.. They look awfully close tonight.

You’ve never really seen them get along. Aside from somewhat friendly and vague exchanges prior to your relationship with Jin, the two were never really friends. They were merely roommates whose families have always been acquainted with one another. Their friendship was out of respect for their families. Living together was just a coincidence and practical decision in terms of location and connection. Meeting you and being caught in the middle of it was just… Life.

Therefore, this an unlikely picture to see. 

The two men sitting next to each other? Odd.

In a way, you’ve waited and wondered when this time would come—rather, if it would ever come. When have these two ever willingly been this civil? Even before your relationship with Jin was out in the open, Jungkook often presented himself passive and rude to Jin. Jin would always reply coldly and in a way, challenging to Jungkook... So what now?

Tonight they were buddies?

You begin to create possible reasons as to why they’re acting this way in your head. Perhaps its the drink in their hands and the multiple pre-drink shots in their stomachs. Perhaps it’s because everyone was here and they knew they had to be on their best behaviour. 

Perhaps it’s because the two, in a way, have already lost. 

Nevertheless, you take a breath in.

As you breathe in, you remind yourself that taking a break from the both of them has been an effective and practical decision so far. It’s been a little weird to live life so quietly. Even if it’s only been a few days, it’s been nice to be alone. Like, alone alone. No texts, no calls, no surprise show up’s at your door. Being alone isn’t as scary you initially thought it would be. Yet, your anxious feelings don’t fade away that quickly. Though you’re slowly but surely feeling more at peace, you know this won’t last forever. Soon enough, you three will have to have at it.  

Until then, it is what it is. 

Space. Time. Reflection.

“Aight, this is exactly why one of you guys should’ve picked her up!” Jimin stresses. You look down and don’t catch on. Is it the dress? “She goes out looking like this? You guys let ___ go out looking like this?!” Jimin then gestures at your figure before facing Jin and Jungkook. 

“What is the big deal? She didn’t wanna be picked up. They just respected her decision of getting here by herself. Which, I think, is a good start. Baby steps, right?” Hoseok interjects, tugging you to sit down next to him. You smile and greet him.

“Hi, Hoseok. Thank you for coming home.”

Sure, you and Hoseok are okay now. You two have texted in the days between then and now, but there’s a part of your friendship that still feels like it’s recovering. That’s just life though, isn’t it? Sometimes we get hurt and we say sorry to one another. It doesn’t mean everything is okay tomorrow, but it’s better than yesterday.

“Hi, ___,” he smiles, opening his arms for you to crash into. “No more playing dumb?”

In his embrace, you laugh and shake your head. “Sorry for making you lose a few braincells while I find mine.” Your apology is unnecessary but nice to hear. Even if it’s a little unserious, he knows where your heart is. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Hoseok nudges you as you pull away. He looks excited a insanely suspicious.

“What is it?” you wonder. 

“You’ll see.”

You open your mouth but Jimin cuts you off before you can push your curiosity any further. Jimin huffs, articulating his following words. “No, shut up you two. Seriously? Everyone here is looking at ___! How could you two—”

“She can wear what she wants,” Jin interrupts Jimin. He says it slow and calm, it’s completely intimidating. It must’ve been even scarier to receive the comment and not just hear it. Jimin’s lips twitch, fully knowing he’s swimming in dangerous water. 

Your eyes meet Jin’s. It’s sudden and no part of you felt ready for this. So, you stay still, practically holding your breath as his eyes trace your body. You feel the way he’s looking at you and how much it hurts to be looked at him like this and not be able to have him. 

Yes, the break is good but holy shit.

Sometimes, you forget about the way Jin looks at you and how easy it feels to drop everything for him to stop looking at you the way he does. You want him to do something. Hold your hand, take you away from everyone, kiss you… You know him.

That glint. 

That hunger. 

That look.

You brush your thoughts off as the chills down your spine begin to calm. You can’t say you saw this next part coming though. Jin blinks away to Jungkook’s direction and nods at him politely. To which, Jungkook crosses his arms and checks you out too. Instead of feeling nervous, you shoot Jungkook a glare in response because he just ruined a moment between you and Jin. You open your mouth to—

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees. “What Jin said.” 

Jimin almost spits out his drink. “W-what? Oh my god. Did I just hear that right? Did you two just agree on something—?”

Jin clears his throat, “Jimin, if you’re so hot and bothered with the way ___ looks then don’t look at her.” His warning sounds conflicting because he says it so sweetly. It’s the undertone that everyone can identify. Jin is maddened.  “Actually, I am bothered. Don’t look at her.”

Jimin gulps. He closes his eyes and turns around, avoiding your direction. 

Rashly, Jungkook downs his drink and clears his throat. It’s like the alcohol doesn’t burn his throat. It goes down like water and you can’t help but watch the way Jungkook wipes his lips with the back of his hand. 

Suddenly, you recall the way they felt against yours. 

Fuck. 

You shut your eyes, dismissing that thought. You open your eyes to Jungkook shoving his empty glass to Jimin’s chest. Jungkook catches the way you look at him. You look nervous—the kind like your heart was just racing. 

It was. 

Jungkook sends you a suggestive look. He’s playful about it and you hate how easy it is to read you. The way you flush is an easy tell. 

You squint at him, poking your tongue out in return. Jungkook rolls his eyes before smirking. He winks. At least, you think he does. You aren’t too sure. It’s so fast you aren’t even completely sure if he just did that, yet with the way Jungkook lowers his gaze, you become sure. 

“Doesn’t matter what she wears. I can fight.” Jungkook discloses, causing Jin to scoff and the rest of the boys to boo him.

As for you, you wonder why your heart hasn’t stopped racing. 

Jin doesn’t like dancing. 

Jungkook said he would catch up and dance with you later. 

They insist you dance with Hoseok and Jimin or literally anyone else in the friend group but for them. Regardless of how much they like you, maybe there are some things you can’t convince them to do. 

Honestly, it’s okay.

Dancing with them would’ve probably turned into a whole thing. This is for the best. At all costs, your goal for tonight is to make it through without any more misfortune. You figure this is an easy out. Spending less time with either one of them can save this night from foreseen disaster.  

Jungkook and Jin stay at the lounge area, standing and watching over the floor. From time to time, they laugh and point at you and Hoseok dancing together. While they drink their scotch, they bond like the three of you aren’t walking on thin ice. 

It’s not like you’re in the position to assume anything at this point. No way were you going to be nosy and ruin a good thing. However, it just feels so... Different. This is the first time in months—actually, ever—that you’ve seen the two get along.

What can you do? 

What do you want to do? 

Confront them and tell them this is weird? Isn’t this on you? Insisting on the break because you haven’t drawn a clear conclusion on how to keep both men in different ways? This is on you. This is the bed you made, therefore you must lay in it. 

As the night goes on, the dance floor gets more and more packed. You were dancing with Hoseok for the most part while Taehyung and Jimin floated elsewhere. Nam Joon was taking a break, sitting down in the lounge area, chatting up some girl. From the sidelines, Jin and Jungkook are still watching over you. It feels weird—watching them get along. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this feeling. It’s almost frightening. You’ve thought about it multiple times and even mentioned it to Hoseok probably a million more times, but as much as it is alarming, it’s just as radiant. 

It’s interesting. 

“Wanna get out of here?” The stranger's voice interrupts your thoughts. It doesn’t belong to anyone you recognize. 

As you turn to put the voice and face together, you see Hoseok practically being shoved away by two other men. While the main one, who you assume voice belongs to, smiles down at you. Immediately, you feel timid and confused. Why is Hoseok being pulled away from you? You can sense Hoseok’s blood instantly boil even as he’s parting ways from you.

You never doubted Hoseok in anything. Advice, his ability to be a food friend—yet, it shocks you how secretly strong he is. He pushes through the two men that block him and cut between you and the man towering over. 

“Woah—those your friends, man?” Hosoek bites, pushing their hands off his body. “The fuck is your problem?” 

You’ve never seen Hoseok get angry or cause trouble. Hell, this man is a saint. His friends growing up were probably angels and when he passes, he’ll probably become one as well. A horrible feeling kicks in when you notice Hoseok’s fists curled. He takes a step toward the taller guy. 

“This your girl?” the man spits. 

Hoseok hesitates and the man studies the way Hoseok does so. He laughs, drawing the conclusion himself.

“Not your girl, not your problem,” the stranger insits, smirking as he gestures his friends to dismiss Hoseok.

It happens so quick.

Before you know it, he takes a step toward you. In response, you take a step back. He’s a lot taller than you and it makes you realize just how small you are. It makes you feel so small and ultimately uncomfortable. “What’s your name—”

You scan for Hoseok. The two men have already pushed him away from arms reach again and it looks like Hoseok is starting an argument with them. He’s too far gone. You scan for Taehyung or Jimin. 

No where to be seen.

Abruptly, you turn towards the direction of Jungkook and Jin. 

Fuck. 

They left their spot?

Shit.

You’re alone. 

A lump in your throat starts to build up. You want to feel courageous and swiftly get away from here, but you think of nothing but for—

“I have a boyfriend,” you blurt. 

Maybe you said that a little too fast because the man doesn’t buy it. 

He offers you a half assed smile. It’s like he’s entertained by your distress. He pouts at you and it makes your stomach ache. It’s the sarcastic kind that only makes everything feel so much more uneasy. It’s like he’s tormenting you. In reality, you want to remind yourself that this is just a man that basks in preying on people’s fears. If you feed into them, he’ll have you just where he wants you. 

You hate this predicament. 

“That guy?” he points at Hoseok, who is struggling to get back to you. The crowd practically swallowed him. “Not him. Don’t lie to me.”

You gulp, taking your time to regulate your feelings. Yes, you’re overwhelmed and this is utterly uncomfortable, but you know you have to stick this one through. You may despise this moment, but you need to act bigger than it in order to get through it. 

“Y-yeah, he is my friend. He’s not my boyfriend,” you clarify, as you attempt to back away. As you so do, you accidentally step on a pair of passing feet. You stumble and the man lunges forward, catching you. It’s not like you were going to fall entirely, but his catch was still of aid. You hate that it was. His hands are on your waist as the other wraps around your wrist. Your breath shakes as he takes the opportunity to close in on you. 

“Careful with your excuses,” he advises. “Just say no and I’ll listen.”

“No,” you say sternly, finding your balance and getting back on your feet. Before you can turn around to walk away, he grabs your upper arm and pulls you towards him. He chuckles, his breath hot with heavy with alcohol. 

“Pretty girl, my bad. Forgot to mention I’m not the listening type.” Before you know it, he lifts his hand to your face. You turn your cheek, not wanting to look at him. He brushes the strands of your hair that have fallen on your face. Tucking your hair to the side, he then gathers your hair and moves it back. With a clear view of your neck, he leans in to kiss it. 

Before he can, you struggle in his arms. 

“My boyfriend is watching,” you utter. “Get off me. Now.”

Cockily, he whimpers to your ear, “boo fucking hoo, bitch.”

You begin to sink in the struggling feeling. Yet, a part of you knew there was no way your friends were here and this would go any further. You hold it together a little more. “Last chance,” you repeat, this time with a firmer tone. “My boyfriend is watching. Get off me. Now. I’m not asking you a third time.”

With an unamused tone, he asks, “who? Show me and I might believe you.”

“Let go of me and I’ll show you.” 

Perhaps because he’s drunk and you’re entertaining him, he listens. He lets you go and you take a breath in as you get on your feet. Now what? Push through everyone and hide in the bathroom? Scream so loud and make a scene that everyone on the dance floor can kick him out? Or do it? Make a fucking choice and get this bullshit over with.

Jungkook or Jin.

That’s it. 

You scan the club once again with your fingers crossed. You shut your eyes for a moment, hoping that when you open them they’ll be either. You know Jungkook and Jin have left their original spot. You know that Hoseok is pushing through whoever to find you. You know Nam Joon must know about this somehow because he’s Nam Joon and Taehyung and Jimin, in their own way, will rescue you too. 

You open your eyes and immediately feel relief. 

The sight of Jin and Jungkook stomping their way over to you relieves your nerves. The weight of your fear and anxiety lighten with every step they take closer to you. 

You don’t condone wrathful behaviour, therefore violence is out of the equation. But you can’t help but feel so much fucking happiness as you recognize their facial expressions. You’ve known the two long enough to be able to read them to an extent. 

It’s too late. 

It’s too late for this guy because the Jin and or Jungkook do not look pleased. 

Jungkook’s fists are curled and Jin has never looked more than ready for anything in his life. Jungkook is pushing his tongue around his cheek, directing disgusted looks towards the man beside you. Jin’s eyes pierce through and it’s like the crowd you’ve been pushing and shoving through all night is clearing a way for them. 

It’s then when you see it clearly. It’s not the extent of anger their that brings you to believing you’ll be okay. 

It’s him. 

It hits you.

This is the moment. 

You blink and feel the need to rub your eyes. 

In the midst of it all, Jin and Jungkook are still childish boys fighting over the pretty girl to pick between them and you do so. It happens so fast they almost trip over their own feet.

As the two approach you and the man, Jin and Jungkook’s heart continues to pound. Partly because of the adrenaline and anger as they watched you being hit on this entire time and partly because they knew what you were doing. They knew this was the typical “that’s my boyfriend,” play. Their anger fractures for a millisecond.

The man hisses, feeling impatient. “Cats got your tongue? Where’s your boyfriend, bitch—”

Before you can even stop yourself, you point toward the direction of Jin and Jungkook. 

Jungkook or Jin.

You point towards their direction. The man bends his knees slightly and squints to see no one. 

“Are you fucking with me?” he growls. “You were pointing at the two fucking guys—”

“She was pointing at me, you dumb fuck.”

Stepping out from behind Jin and Jungkook, he reveals himself.

It’s him. 

He’s here.

He steps forward and the familiar voice brings you absolute security. You’re going to be okay. There’s nothing bad that could happen now. Focused on you and your boyfriend, Jin and Jungkook circle behind the man without being noticed.

Drunkenly, the man huffs. “You? You’re her boyfriend?”

You nod at the sight, heart racing as he exchanges a warm smile with you. He extends his hand and you take it. Standing by his side, you burry yourself into his embrace. He smells so good. 

He smells like home. 

“Yeah, fucker, I am. What the fuck were you doing touching her like that?” 

Just as the stranger is about to put up a fight, a hand taps him on the shoulder. Sluggishly turning the stranger is met with a punch to the face. It’s a big hit. The kind where you watch his face turn and you wouldn’t be surprised if he would be missing a tooth or two. Falling on the floor, you gasp as Jin is revealed to be standing there. 

Jin is the one that threw the punch? 

Jungkook laughs, congratulating Jin. “Nice hit,” Jungkook then before he bends over the man lying on the floor. he picks him up by the collar of his shirt and shakes him. 

“Don’t ever fucking touch anyone like that ever again,” Jungkook says flatly, “because I’ll kill you next time.”

Jin rolls his eyes and grabs Jungkook by the back of his shirt. Jin pulls Jungkook back up and swears, “he���s not fucking worth it.”

“Says you,” Jungkook remarks, smacking Jin’s soon to be bruised knuckles. Jin flinches and hisses at the initiating pain. 

In the blur of the moment, perhaps it was the adrenaline; you feel ecstatic. The two look like brothers when they get along. You think to yourself, maybe it’s not that peculiar after all... 

You see security guards come in and take the man on the floor away. Jin and Jungkook talk to the security guards before directing them to Hoseok. Hoseok leads the way, pointing out the other guys that were acquainted with the man hitting on you. Jimin, Taehyung, and Nam Joon follow along. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you admit, processing it all. “Thanks, boyfriend.”

He pats your head, his gaze softening as he leans in and teases, “whatever you say, my love.” 

He offers you a shy smile and you can’t help but get watery eyes. You’re so thankful. You’re so heartbroken at the same time. Seeing him again after all these years; you never expected to feel this way. It’s a relief to see him. It makes your heart feel heavy as you notice how his hair grew, how his style changed, but the way he looks at you hasn’t. 

You know it in your heart it hasn’t as Yoongi, your first love, reaches for your hand and kisses it.

You’re sitting in the lounge with Jungkook. He’s listening to you give your perspective on what happened. He’s tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning closer and closer every time you pause and look at him with wide eyes. Jin knows you aren’t flirting. He knows you’re used to going to Jungkook for comfort and given the events of tonight, you’re right to.

Jin watches you two, completely unaware of Yoongi approaching him. 

“Looks like it’s swelling already,” Yoongi offers an ice pack and another drink with his other hand. Jin thanks him, taking the ice pack and placing it on his knuckles. 

“I don’t know how Jungkook fights all the time,” Jin confesses. “I get that he boxes and shit but this is gonna be annoying to deal with as it heals.” 

“She’s worth it,” Yoongi comments. “The fights. The heartache.. I think she is.” 

Yoongi’s words catch Jin off guard. He clears his throat and pulls his attention away from you and Jungkook to Yoongi. Jin leans on the ramp and looks at his hand. 

He knows Yoongi is right. 

It aches though. 

It ached when you thanked the two and immediately lectured Jin about hitting people. How you congratulated Jungkook for using his words like you were a preschool teacher dealing with children. It ached when you took Jungkook’s hand and let him guide you out of the crowd and to the lounge. Where you two have been sitting together for the past fifteen minutes, talking and simply being together. Shouldn’t that be him? He was the one to throw the punch. 

Jin isn’t even sure how it ended up being him that threw the punch. Jungkook was more than ready and willing to do so. It was more of an in the moment thing anyway.

“... So it’s nice to meet you. I’m Yoongi,” he says. “___’s ex... And you are?”

Jin’s thoughts halt. He awkwardly laughs and nods his head, apologizing for being so disoriented. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jin. ___’s something.” Jin extend his good hand for Yoongi to shake. Yoongi shakes it, chuckling at Jin’s introduction. Jin takes that as a hint.

“So you know..”

Yoongi nudges Jin to scoot over. Jin does so. Standing side by side, they both watch you and Jungkook continue to bond. Like little kids, you two laugh and tease each other. Yoongi sighs, “Hoseok updates me every now and then. I usually don’t like talking about my ex on a daily bases so I try not to know too much.”

Jin snickers in response. “So, you’re not up to date then?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Should I be? Feels a little like high school drama. Couldn’t stand that shit when I was high school, what makes you think I’d care about it now?”

“Because it’s about ___.”

“I digress,” Yoongi chuckles, cheersing Jin. Together, they both take a sip. 

In the silence, Jin can’t help but feel like his whole heart is sinking. He wonders if Yoongi feels the same in regards to how Jungkook and you are like together. He recalls asking Jungkook what Yoongi and you were like and having that conversation last less than a minute. Jin decides to bite. 

“Why’d you two break up?” Jin almost strutters, afraid he’s crossing a line. It’s unknown territory. He’s unfamiliar with Yoongi. 

“Ah,” Yoongi gives in. “Work was—”

“I know about work,” Jin implies. “I don’t know about you and ___.” 

Yoongi pauses, smirking at Jin’s cleverness. He likes that’s straight to the point. Immediately feeling like this must have been an aftermath to your circus of disaster. It’s then that Yoongi has a quick realization of how much you’ve changed without him by your side and in contrast how much you’ve stayed the same. “She didn’t want me enough.”

“Lies,” Jin claims. “If it’s not Jungkook or I, it’s you.”

With that, Yoongi shrugs in response. “Then it’s either you or Jungkook. If she wanted me, she would’ve kept me.”

Both men hold each other’s gaze, not knowing what to say next. Ultimately, Jin drops it and turns back to you and Jungkook. 

The conversation grows cold. 

Jin begins to wonder what interest you had in Yoongi back then if he can hardly hold a conversation now. It’s a little funny because Yoongi seems to be quite the opposite of what he was expecting. Sure, he knew Yoongi was going to be the quiet type and a little mysterious, but Jin never registered the possibility of Yoongi being hard to read. 

“Childish for me to ask, but whose side are you on?” Jin confides in Yoongi, breaking the silence. “You know enough—you must.” 

Jin couldn’t help himself. Something about Yoongi felt so easy. Like you could tell him anything and everything you say is kept safe.

He wonders if Yoongi’s opinion would do anything. 

If Yoongi’s opinion would shift the way he sees Jungkook and if after hearing it, it would be easier for him to understand. Understand anything. Jin has been nothing but confused and hurt by you over and over again. Which, is ironic. Ever since he came into your life, that’s all he’s done to you as well. 

Yet, he can’t help but wonder why it doesn’t feel like you two are going in circles. Though the challenges feel repetitive, the actions and growth beneath it all are not. Each choice, each step forward together has ultimately changed the way he continues to love you. 

“Hers.”

Jin acknowledges Yoongi’s answer yet decides to push it. “But—”

“The most difficult lesson I had to learn is that not everything you love is meant for you. I’ve made my peace with ___. I don’t think you should.”

“What does that even mean?” Jin laughs as he takes a sip of his drink. Of course he understands what Yoongi means. 

You. 

He’s siding with you and your choice. Whoever you choose is his choice because whoever you choose must be the one that makes you happiest. That realization stings and spears into Jin’s heart as he watches you laugh, throwing you head back and enjoying your time with Jungkook. He can’t help but keep noting: you look happy with Jungkook. 

Do you smile like that when he’s around you?

Yoongi inhales sharply, tilting his head at Jin. Jin feels Yoongi’s gaze and turns to him. Offers a weak smile, he looks at Yoongi with pleading eyes. 

“Tell me something,” Jin begs, voice on the verge of cracking. Maybe he’s had too much to drink. “Tell me anything.”

Yoongi’s eyes shift towards your direction and his gaze softens. He downs the rest of his drink and goes through a quick dilemma in his head. How much should he share? He knew he would bump into Jin and have a conversation along these lines... But he didn’t expect it to be so out in the open. In a way, Jin surprises Yoongi. 

“She loves Jungkook—there’s no denying that. She always has and always will. Hell, even I can’t compete with him. I had and have no interest either… I think that Jungkook does well in tending to her needs in every way possible and by doing so, it heals the brokenness in him too. He’s always felt out of place and ___ has always been the person to make him feel needed,” Yoongi pauses and thinks for a moment. “...Like he belonged to her—which, some may argue but I beg to differ; I think it’s fair. They went through so much together. It would be a ridiculous expectation to have them move on from one another just because she fell in love with someone else.” 

Yoongi wasn’t talking about Jin. 

He was talking about himself and the short comings he felt towards you when he was your boyfriend. Though Jungkook wasn’t around for majority of it, he well understood the difference when Jungkook was. 

“Jungkook mended a heart he didn’t break. He hurts for her, he fumes for her, he loves for her and don’t get me wrong; I think they’re a great team. Jungkook protects her like she’s his entire heart and ___ has a way with him no one else does. At one point, a little before ___ and I broke up, I asked them individually if they ever had feelings for each other. Jungkook confessed to me and begged for forgiveness as if if was a sin to love someone. ___ shook her head and smiled politely at me saying she loves me. I told her, “that’s not what I’m asking. Answer properly,” and then she did.”

Jin’s ears turn red. “Well, what did she say?”

“She said I’m her first love. Jungkook is her greatest.”

“What does that mean?”

“Figure it out,” Yoongi teases Jin. Jin shoots Yoongi a glare and groans stressfully. It amuses Yoongi. “I’m just fucking with you, Jin! Lighten up! God, you’re so tense.”

Yoongi puts his hands up in surrender as Jin listens and tries to relax. He can’t help it! It feels like he’s losing you and like he’s never really known you at all. Everything he learns about you is simply an extension of Jungkook. He isn’t sure how he can process that. 

Jin once promised you the stars but it feels like he’s the fallen. 

“As childish and cliché as it sounds, it’s means you’re her true love. Regardless of how honest and pure her love is for Jungkook and I—we both lack something. A part of ___ never fully gave in and neither one of us have her entirely. Considering the way she’s been stealing glances all night, how she pretended not to care for your hurt hand—even avoided being the one to get you ice.. And not to mention the fact that she has mustered up so much strength and courage to refrain from crying and calling me up about you when she was having a hard time… Yeah, pretty sure she loves you. Sure, love is timing and chemistry, but what it orbits around is choice.”

“She chooses Jungkook a lot though,” Jin croaks, partly disregarding everything Yoongi had said. Yoongi’s mouth drops open, unable to comprehend how sensitive Jin was acting. He must really care for you. “I don’t know how to deal with it. I don’t know how to draw boundaries or keep Jungkook in our lives if he continues to act the way he does. She always goes back to him regardless of how much of myself I offer.”

“You don’t have to figure it all out at once... I mean, who would she be if she just woke up one day and didn’t need Jungkook?”

Jin nods along, taking everything Yoongi says in.

“Think of it this way: Jungkook and ___ are opposite ends of the same string...” Yoongi nods along to his own words, confident and ever so insightful. “___ and Jungkook both hate losing. They’re competitive and impulsive in the same sense they’re anxious and let life pass them by. To be completely honest with you, they’re soulmates but they’re not lovers. At least, not in this life. As much as Jungkook tries to convince you they are; I will convince you otherwise. Plus, maybe you’d know that if you stopped focusing on Jungkook and started paying more attention with the way she chooses you—”

“Yeah, but—”

“Dude, she broke up with me.”

“What?” Jin’s eyes almost fall out of his head. “Everyone says it was you—”

“Well, she didn’t break up with me break up with me,” Yoongi quotes. “I did that. I dumped her… But she’s the one that told me to go. I would’ve stayed if she asked me to but she never did. Fuck, I would’ve married her if she wanted me to. That’s why I asked her and Jungkook if they had feelings for one another. That’s also when I realized something important...”

“Realize what?” 

“What do you think you are to her? A practice round?” Yoongi returns Jin’s question with his own. “If Jungkook has always been her safe space and I’m her past, what do you think you are to her? She tries with you. Sad attempts but she does try. I can’t and don’t want to speak for her or for her feelings, but I’ve known her long enough to understand the way she handles things. I’ve never seen her so eager to grow when it comes to you.”

Jin freezes. He’s never really thought about that. 

“Paraluman,” Yoongi beings, “it means muse. Have you noticed that everything you and ___ go through, good and bad, have brought you two make better decisions for yourself and each other? She has a tendency to wish for parts of Jungkook to change. With Jungkook, she shifts back to this dependent and catered princess. Whereas for you.. She’s loved every part of you since the moment she laid her eyes on you and has constantly been finding ways to better your lives together. Even if she had moments where she fucked up, which I’m sure she has; she is choosing to change.”

“She has changed a lot.” Jin agrees. 

“I think you have too. You must have,” Yoongi guesses. “And for what it’s worth, I think it’s you. You’re her muse.”

Jin is lost for words. What is he supposed to say? In a way, this conversation brought clarity but in others... Jin is more than confused. 

“What if it’s not ___ and I in the end? W-what if it’s not.. What if it’s not me?” Jin stutters, hating each word that came out of his mouth. “Every day I try to convince myself that she’s not the love of my life… But she is. She proves that over and over again just by being her… How am I supposed to get over this? How did you get over her? Because I don’t think I can do it.”

Yoongi doesn’t know how to answer Jin. He isn’t sure if Jin is genuinely insecure even after all the encouraging words Yoongi exchanged with him or if Jin has plans on forfeiting. Yoongi decides to be honest. What does he have to lose?

Yoongi has already lost you. 

“I didn’t.”

As the night comes to an end, everyone is outside waiting for their Ubers. Jungkook and Jin are inside paying the bill. Taehyung and Jimin burst through the exit and light a joint. You cringe at the sight, hating the smell. Meanwhile, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Nam Joon will be staying at your place for a couple of days and you’re all waiting for your Uber. 

It’s never been like this. It’s always been Hoseok and Nam Joon coming to visit. Yoongi never comes with. 

You don’t know if it’s your drunken thoughts or the way Yoongi just naturally captivates you, but your words spill out of your mouth faster than you can stop them. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too—“

“I’m happy you’re here, but… Yoongi, w-why are you here? You never come back.”

Yoongi pouts shaking his head at you, “you know why, ___.” 

“N-no—” you refuse. “I don’t know why.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Is it—“

He nods.

“Are y-you.. How did you find out?”

The guilt sobers you up. You wish you didn’t know what he was talking about. Yoongi takes a hold of your forearm as you stumble towards him. You find balance and when you do, it’s useless as Yoongi’s words make you dizzy all over again.

“You won’t listen to them, so I need to you to listen to me. My love, you have to make a decision. Do you think you can hide this forever? They’re going to find out. ___, you can’t keep this from Jungkook or Jin anymore.”

The choice becomes bitter in your mouth. The same way it’s Jungkook or Jin, it’s leave or stay.

[mesanthropi]

hihihi moots as svt memes go!

i feel like i know you from somewhere, anon 👁️👁️ but i have a shit ton of those so LET'S GO. I'M DOING THIS FOR ALL MY MUTUALS (memes under the readmore)

@wheeboo still can't believe we're moots. anyway, i literally just clicked on this one solely for the captions, but i guess i just gravitated to seungkwan naturally. we're all shocked by capitalism, but ate rani would be the most shocked by it. (she'd hate gas prices here in the ph)

@weird-bookworm these are all gonna be gose pictures, huh? /j this was literally her with me earlier this afternoon. like i was all "should i let the intrusive thoughts win", she came into the replies, then on discord HAHAHAHAH im so sorry you have to deal with my nonsense, but i am stuck with you like oxygen to blood cells.

@3ninth ok not a kpop mutual, but i don't have many mutuals so ya'll are here now no matter what fandom you come from 👉👉 homie is my fellow discord mod. miss her sm fr, hopefully she's back when the owner pops back in from school activities!! if you see this, paula, hope ur having a great time. if not, tell us who we need to beat up

@fairyhaos ATE YENAAAA <33 ok so as an alternative, there's [this], but! primarily, she's giving. this specific mingyu pic. this was defo them during the shua dating rumors and i don't blame her, BUT ALSO. I FEEL LIKE THIS IS ALSO A THING WHENEVER AN ILLEGAL REQ POPS INTO THE ASK BOX. WHEN ARE WE GETTINBG AN UPDATE ON THE COUNT /JJJ

@kyeomyun she's the homie frfr actually. jadaders would tbh go "that's unfortunate" with the biggest smile on her face if there's any minor inconvenience that happens to either you or her. it's either in a way where girlie is fr amused by your misfortune, or this is a call for help. she's going thru it @ school so hopefully she gets a break soon ^^

@i-luvsang just for you, i'm getting an atz meme (and also bc its their 5th debut anniv <3). feel like marimoon would get the nearest stuffed animal in a shop, call for me, and do this with the blankest face they can manage. i'd lose my mind ofc i laugh at everything but especially shit like this. it's deadpan humor, i swear

@hannyoontify KIKIEEEEEEE <333 DO YOU LOVE ME /LYR /J anyway, kie!! my homie kie, we miss you here at residencia misantropia. moving on, we have this lovely jeonghan screenshot from a knowing bros episode. feel like this is their mood sometimes. hopefully you're taking care of yourself, man! when you come back, we're here with open arms fr ong!!

@joshuahonggf JIAAAA we don't talk much but i adore her sm. [img text's rough tr: i know you're getting nervous about tomorrow, sis] we'd probably be the type of homies who'd spam e/o on discord about a project we're grouped up in. or an exam. or a performance, one or the other. but we end up doing great anyway B))) we're cool like that

@haowrld HI PRE 👉👉👉 abnother filo buddy of mine hehehe. wishing u luck on ur fic btw! i assign to you this woozi screenshot. because sometimes, we get those moments of having zero thoughts in our head. this is also at every writer ever, we're good at imnagining shit but actually writing it is either the hardest thing ever or it comes naturally. goodluckies!!

@wqnwoos HANA WHO CAME BACK BECAUSE ANON CALLED THEM POOKIE 👉👉👉 /jjj but seriously, hana was one of the ppl i first followed after i discovered svt fics on tumblr. she's one of the firsy writer si followed!! but considerinh the fact that she used my iwn salt shaker threat against me, this is what they'd send me i think. idk. its lke 1:21 am im getting sillier with these

@mach1nat1on YOU. ASSHOLE. TRAUMATIZER. IMN GIVING YOU THIS BECAUSE THIS IS WHAT I FEEL SOMETIMES WHENEVER YOU DO SOME SHIY IN THE PRIVATE SERVER. YOU HURT MY BBGS YOU HURT ME!! DID YOU KNOW THAT!?!?!??! NOW YOU'RE JUST SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW 🗣️🗣️ but i also love u dw i forgive u everytime and i support your righst and your wromgs. just know that we are forever in a love/hate relationship

@lumasahina im gonna sc this and send this to our priv server but!! hey dude <3 traumatizer numero uno right beside mac and holls. this is you wnheever i manage to put lore into my silly little writings and my silly little characters. and for the record, just so you know, i feel the same way sometimes. i love how you do lore tho! it's always so well-done n they flow well hehe

@holland (not @ing for other reasons) my HOMIE OF ALL HOPMIES, MY POOKIECAKES MY POOKUMS SNOOKUMS <3 sorry abt that those were rge demons. the voices. anyway! here's your assigned meme. skz just for you. i'd take pics of you like this. those 0.5 angles on iphone, then use them as reaction pics or emojis in our server. but i would also cherish these pictures bc they're you and you r my resident "across the world homie for years". stay safe, drink water, and i hope to finish ur req soon aughhhh

holy shit its like 1:53am now wtf

[splatterofdepression]

Naughty kind of fun~ (Miguel O'hara x reader)

（｡･ω･｡)つ━☆・*°。+ *🎀

warning: +18 (so if ur not, get outa here, buddy), thigh fucking, penetrative, blowjob, cumming in the mouth, finger fucking, etc... 🤨🤨😔

(I wrote it, haha but credits to jaex0x0smikle anyways.) also to note: wrote this a while ago, used some posts on tumblr for inspiration (paraphrased for the vibrator and thigh parts!)... pls comment if u can find who's it is cause i wanna give them full credits :(

btw i was like half dead because i wanted to die from the amount of hw i had and needed a writing break :(

🚶

HAVE FUN Y'ALL

dunno how to write the captions, my bad :(

type a comment if you want some more 😉

[Dom Miguel, Sub (ish) reader]  

（｡･ω･｡)つ━☆・*°。+ *🎀

"Hey, baby..." Miguel leaned against the door frame, his eyes sliding over your new dress. He licked his lips and smiled. "You certainly look delicious..."

"Not so bad yourself..." You say, trying to not squirm under Miguel's unwavering gaze. You look at his handsome face, the chiseled features and broad shoulders made him look strong. Matched with the black and white suit he was wearing, Miguel was handsome. Extremely so. You coughed and looked away, trying to not seem like you were ready to pounce on him. You could already feel the heat rushing to my face. "You look... very handsome tonight..."

"Hmm... but have you tried yourself in a mirror lately, sweetheart?" Miguel smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He moved closer, placing his hand on the small of your back. "I'm dying to see what's underneath, babe..."

"Come on, we don't have time for this. Pavitr's party is going to start at 8:00!" You push him away playfully, but he huffs impatiently. 

"We still have more than two hours- that's plenty of time." 

"We both know that if we start now, we'll end up spending the entire night instead of just two hours." You quickly clapped a hand over your mouth. You blush, embarrassed. 

"Oh really~?" His husky voice made me shiver, his hot breath blowing against your ear. The way Miguel towered over you was scary- but also thrilling.

"Y-yeah." You avoided his eyes, but he lifted your chin up to his face. Miguel's gaze bore into you as his jaw tightened. 

"Please? I'm begging you..." He stepped forward, pushing you against the wall with one arm. He leaned forward, planting a kiss on your neck. His body pushed against you, his body heat slowly rising as he stared hungrily. You could feel your breath quicken too, eager to keep on going, but you couldn't just ditch Pavitr's without a notice.

"Fine. I'll send a message to Pavitr." You start to head for your phone, but Miguel stops you.

"What do you think you're doing when the fun already started?" Miguel's eyes were piercing, trapping you in place. He shoved a hand against the wall and bent down to be eye level with you. Suddenly, his voice becomes gentle, "Do you want me to keep going? I'll stop if you don't... there's no rush."

"a-ah... no. You can um- continue..." Your heart beat so fast it felt like it was going to leap out of your chest. It was only the third time you guys ever had intimacy, and it still felt so alien to you. Without knowing what to do, you say, "Let's have some fun."

"Oh really?" Miguel asked, licking his lips as he looked at you with a mischievous grin. "And what kind of fun did you have in mind, sweetheart?..." Miguel moved a piece of hair behind your ear, lightly tracing a trail down to your shoulder.

"A naughty kind of fun..." You smirked at him. This side of you never showed except for moments like these. 

"Oh?" Miguel purred, his eyes glittering. "How naughty?..." He leaned down to gently nibble and tug at your ear, his lips brushing against your neck. "Do you want me to make a good girl out of you, sweetheart?"

You shiver at the closeness of Miguel. "Yes, please~"

"Mhm..." Miguel pressed himself against you, his voice husky as he spoke. "Are you a naughty girl, baby?" Miguel's teeth flashed, his body trembling with desire. He reached out and ran his hand along your waist.

You move closer to him, "Only for you~" As his hand trailed along your curves, you decided to be more bold. "I'll keep you up all night long..." your whisper shocked Miguel, but in a good way.

"Oooh~" Miguel purred, his voice going lower. "How long will you even be able to keep me up, sweetheart?..." He chuckled. "Hmm... maybe you want me to... push... your... buttons?..." Miguel paused to let his words sink in. He leaned forward, nibbling gently on your ear.

You whine softly, burying your head into Miguel's chest. "Yes please... daddy~" Instantly, you regret saying that. He was going to tease you to death after tonight.

"Hmm?..." Miguel chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "Oh did you say something, sweetheart?..." A small smirk danced on his lips, a hand traveling across your thigh. "You're such a tease~"

He brought his hand down from the wall, gently grabbing your hips and tossing you onto the couch. "Hmm... I'll teach you a lesson..." Miguel crawled over and pinned you down to the sofa, looking at you with a small smirk. You start to undress, lifting up your skirt slowly. 

Miguel's eyes widened as he glanced at your legs. His tongue ran across his bottom lip, a hand moving to caress your thigh. His voice sounded husky, his gaze traveling up your leg.

"I wore your favourite lingerie- just in case this would happen..."

"Oh really~?" Miguel purred, his eyes glistening. He leaned forward to nibble along your shoulder, his fingers digging into the soft skin. "Hmm, I don't believe you, babe... I'm gonna have to take a look for myself, sweetheart..." 

"Go ahead~" You say, before he suddenly yanks off your underskirt. You squeak, surprised. Instinctively, you squeeze your legs together, face flushed red from the unexpectedness. Miguel chuckled, moving his leg between your thighs. 

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" He said, his voice low and husky as he looked down at you.

You gasped softly, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Yes~"

Miguel smiled, his eyes glimmering with desire as he looked down at you. His arms surrounded your waist, holding you firmly in place. One of his hands moved to caress your hair, while the other went down to untie your lace dress. "You just have to let go... let me take charge, baby..." His gaze looked hungry, his eyes staring at you as if you were a feast. His eyes wandered over your body. 

Miguel's arms supported your weight as you straddled him. His hands traced the curves of your hips and thighs, teasing you. Miguel purred, his lips traveling over your neck. His teeth lightly scraped against your skin as he ran his tongue along your neck. "I need you to tell me what you want, baby..." He paused, nipping gently at your throat. His breath went against you, his lips grazing your ear. "Tell me... what... do you want?"

----

YOU CAN STOP HERE! EXIT THIS CHAPTER NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE ANY MORE SMUT

No?

Ok. 

You've been warned 😨

----

"I guess I need to loosen you up first..." Miguel opens one of the cabinets next to the TV, taking out a pink vibrator and lube. You could already feel you were wet enough to not use lube, but Miguel always stood by the phrase, "The wetter, the better." 

He placed the vibrator between your legs, rubbing it against your thigh. "Spread your legs." Miguel says, and you immediately sit up a little more, leaning against the cushion and widening your legs. He rubbed your clit softly, blowing against it. You squirm, letting out a small moan. The lube was cold as Miguel massaged it into you. His fingers were long, pressing against all the sensitive areas he knew you loved. He slowly drew his fingers in and out of your pussy, quickening the pace. Starting with 2 fingers, then adding another. 

"A-ah~ Miguel~" You panted, grasping at Miguel's arm. You could see his ears go red, and the bulge in his pants get even bigger. 

"Ready?" Miguel tapped the tip of the wand against your clit, and your hips squirm a bit, a squeak leaving your mouth. As Miguel pushes the vibrator in, he turns up the intensity of vibration- making you jerk your head back. Every moan that escaped your mouth made Miguel's bulge grow larger and harder. 

"You should see yourself right now..." he was panting quietly, eyes looking eager to thrust into you. "I'm not sure how much longer I can wait."

He took fun in seeing how long you could last before coming, raising the intensity of the vibrator, eating up the expressions you made. Your core tightened around the vibrator, and an electric shock passed through your body. 

"a-Augnh~ M-miguel! stop~ I-I just-" You couldn't finish your sentence, though, because Miguel was raising the vibrations even higher. You had just came, the sticky juice slowly seeping out of your hole, coating the vibrator. When you realised you were close AGAIN (omg how), you let out a raw moan, "m-more! a-aAh~ faster!" Miguel responded by taking out the vibrator, and switching it off. 

When you finally came back to your senses, you pouted, "Why did you stop? I was about to-" Miguel flipped you over so that you were on your knees, and he unbuckled his belt. His massive dick came into view, and you weren't sure if you could handle it. "Wha-?"

"You can't be the only one having fun, sweetheart." He stroked your hair, leading your face towards his shaft. "Suck it." His voice was so commanding, so you started to lick the tip of his dick, pleasuring in the groans Miguel let out. You swirled your tongue on the head, massaging his balls with your fingers. You looked up at him as he tilted his head backwards, breaths becoming laboured. His pre-cum dripped from the sides of your mouth, tasting slightly salty.

"Your dick is delicious... I'll make sure to savour it~" You say, stroking Miguel's dick with your hand. It didn't even fit in one hand, so you used both, squeezing as you brought your hands up and down his shaft. You placed your tongue on his cock, getting ready to deep throat it. "You're such a-" You bring your mouth down onto Miguel's dick, feeling it hit the back of your throat. Thank god you don't have a gag reflex- cause if you did, you'd be throwing up because of his size. Miguel whipped his head back, letting out a load and high pitched moan. (Not as high as yours, of course...) His eyes widened, and yours did too. You guys looked at each other, both shocked. "I-I didn't mean to-" 

You take Miguel's cock out of your mouth, and smile. "It's okay- I think it was kind of cute." You continued to blow him, loving the whimpers, moans, and sounds that came from him. 

"I th-think I'm close~" Miguel whispered, his hands grabbing at your hair. He brought your head down even further, making your eyes water. But you kept going, bobbing up and down faster and faster until he shoved your face almost all the way to his balls. He groaned loudly, and you could feel him release his white cum inside of your throat. He kept you in that position for a few more seconds, until he let you go, exhausted. 

"Don't tell me you're already done~?" You laugh, placing your hips so he could see your pussy drip. 

"h-hugh... N-no..." Miguel's chest had a faint sheen from the sweat. "I can keep going..."

Miguel looked at your pussy, and he can't control himself anymore. You feel his rough hands grip your hips, harshly pushing him back into you. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against you cunt. You can feel it begin to become rock solid again. 

"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and laboured, laced with a deep groan. His broad palm hits your butt-cheek, making you gasp. "Te necesito así de mal ahora mismo." (I need you so badly right now.) Miguel slammed inside you, thrusting at a quick pace.

"So tight..." Miguel grunted, his jaw gritted. "...it feels so good..."

You arch your back, the noises coming out of your mouth were low-key embarrassing. It was too big for you to handle, his shaft stretching your pussy so wide as it slammed in and out. The "plap" sounds from him slapping against your pussy was loud in your ears. The vibrator was big, but Miguel's dick was huge compared to it. 

"S-slower... please~" You mewl, eyes watering from the overstimulation. "I-I can't..."

Miguel started thrusting gently, but it still felt like you were being eaten up from the inside. You clench around him, noticing him shudder inside you as you tighten up.

"Tell P-pavitr that w-we aren't coming t-to the party~ a-Ah~" I signal for Miguel to give me my phone so I can text him a message. 

Miguel picks up the phone, ringing Pavitr's phone. 

"What are you doing?!" You hiss, WHY WAS MIGUEL CALLING PAVITR? WHEN YOU'RE HAVING SEX? "Miguel Ohara! S-stop!" 

But Miguel doesn't stop the call with Pavitr, only quickening his hips. Your eyes roll back, arching your back so he could hit your gspot.

"Huh? y/n? Why're you calling?" You could hear Pavitr's voice loud and clear through the speaker. "Miguel? Is that you?"

"Yes. y/n and I can't come to the party tonight..." Miguel clamped a hand over your mouth to prevent you from moaning so loudly. "She'll tell you why."

Your head was spinning from the pleasure, and you couldn't think of a decent excuse. Should you say that you family has an emergency? Or maybe that you got sick? In any case, you know Pavitr is too smart than to believe it. Miguel lowered the phone next to your mouth as he kept on thrusting.

"U-um, we f-forgot that o-our... uaHGh~!" A moan had accidentally escaped from your lips. You cleared your throat. "S-sorry, I-I mmHMm~ I hurt my foot..." 

You turn red from the stupid lie. "H-hope we c-can see y-you soon... nnNGh~!"

"Woah. I know what you're doing, and it doesn't sound like you hurt your foot." Pavitr chuckled, "I understand. Have fun, Miguel. Tell me about it tomorrow."

BEEP. Pavitr had ended the call.

"Miguel! Why did you embarrass me like that!" You bury your face into the coach's cushions, hearing Miguel's deep laugh. 

"Why, you said you wanted to have 'fun', sweetheart." Miguel grinned, slicking his hair back to get a better view of your ass. He took off the condom he had on, tapping his raw cock against your clit. "This is what you asked for~" 

Smiling mischievously, e delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the lips of your pussy, running them over your slit.

"You can't do it raw... I'm not on birth control." You warned, and Miguel's eyes twinkled.

"Let me fuck your thighs then." It took you by surprise, because you thought he would suggest anal or something. 

With caution, he pushed his dick between your thighs while navigating his way to feel your wet folds and making sure he pressed the tip against your clit. Miguel began thrusting himself, keeping a steady rhythm— pre-cum smearing between your legs with each thrust. 

not doneee :)

[gay-trashcan-cat]

how the fuck do you infuse so much personality into your doodles. are you pulling a fnaf and putting human souls in them?? if so, could you tell me how to do it?

ok first off, THANK YOU? got me going teehee blink blink face. Didn't expect to have an art question but I'm very glad, it's my first one so I'll answer to the best I can!

When it comes to personality in drawings (assuming your talking about characters), I often like to think about my characters as friends or someone you know. Often times I'm just saying to myself, "OH! Character would definitely react like this or say this!" (like how you would say your friend would do something unique only to them in a silly situation) Stepping into you characters' shoes or viewing them as a buddy can help you apply and do a bunch!

Though I do understand that you can know a ton about a character but still struggle on what to apply to a drawing with them in it!

There are a few things I tend to do and add when it comes to drawings!

First off is expression, putting some extra thought into expressions can really help add more to your character. Especially pushing expression! (Won't go too deep with expression because that's a whole other can of beans)

My silly goofy cat is a real happy and loud guy, so a simple smile won't always cut it! Really pushing that joy and loudness helps add more to him as a character!

Another thing you may have noticed in the drawing is how I added some (very silly looking) arms to the surface he was near! This moves on to the next thing I often do. Body language! (Which could also be seen as, gesture/posing)

Though relatively the same expression (note the eyes size difference makes the first doodle look more aware/awake, that just shows expression can change even with the slightest difference, this was accidental though), the change of the pose adds story to the character. The first drawing comes off as a more plain hello, while the second drawing adds more excitement and characterization to the goofy guy! As we see how he waves his hand quickly with joy while his left foot taps up with energy, most likely meeting up with a friend! All this movement also makes your characters look less stiff and lifeless.

I also like to add my own stylistic ways of movement or little reaction marks, I'm not too sure what to call them exactly tho (what I mean are the extra colored bits around the character below, they dont always need color though).

This is just a nice way to add more flavor to a drawing! And you can always experiment, or mix and match to see what you like.

Another thing I do is try to imagine scenarios or scenes that would work well with what I have in mind. To get to that point I'm often writing it down or doing thumbnails and lil roughs before I actually make my sketches that I post (insider secrets right here!).

(Here's an example of my drafting process with poses and expressions for this ask I did a while ago, yes it is cursed so read at ur own cost❤ )

Another thing would be textures, you often see me switching colors and brushes, even software's as I draw! that's why every doodle feels a little different, which I feel helps give off different ideas and emotions (or laziness who knows).

Some other factors that play into the "personality" of my drawings is the reactions, with cause and effect. Which has actions that make a new reaction for each character (or even object) that is exaggerated. Like someone making a disgusted face to someone vomiting, even a cat knocking a cup over, or a cat getting scared by a glass breaking (this could also just be a continuation of the last statement). Possibly even the IRS coming for you after evading your taxes and you having to jump out the window.

I mainly use this for comics! But you could do this in a single drawing, I like to have a moment kind of frozen in place either after or in the middle of an action (sorta lets your brain imagine the in-betweens). Though when it comes to exaggerating your reactions or causes, it takes some practice and imagination, so don't be discouraged if it takes some trial and error to get the hand of it! Honestly I'm still practicing too.

Other things that help me put some more life into my drawings is well... life itself! lots of interactions, faces, and poses are based on things I've seen in real life, from watching people (while in the bushes).

Though that isn't the only thing! I also use what I see in media, or photos! even some shows and movies, since there are so many good scenes or frames that can be used as great inspiration!

lastly, yes I do put human souls in my drawings, as well as sacrifice some squirrels here and there to my Elmo shrine, but thats not tooo important right?

[namodareads]

*cracks knuckles* alright fellas. let's get into it.

i want to start off this dissertation by saying that nikoo worked incredibly hard on this fic and it is magnum opus worthy, piece of art la pièce de résistance (chefs kiss) but nikoo has many more wonderful memorable pieces all about this stinky loverboy man gojo ✌️✌️

OK

this fic is so visceral and captivating, the opening is strong and gives a very clear message of: read me and figure out wtf is happening (teehee)

the way we are so instantly mercilessly tossed into the throe of it all (the screaming the memories the violence) is soooo brutal in a fascinating way, and the line abt gojo being freakishly tall was funny LMFAOOOOO (get bent).

and i have never really read time loop fics or consumed time loop media, but the horror of this one was so fascinating that no matter how many times i read it (or have it read to me, hehe) it's like there's always something new to pick up on or some new theme that emerges

Behind you, you hear a woman screaming, her voice crazed and terrified. You turn your head automatically to look at her and when you see her you realize you recognize her yellow and white magical girl costume. You can say with certainty that you’ve never seen her before and yet—

^ and THIS. ouragrrhghhghhhhhh. THIS!!! is an example of smth that u pick up on only after ur 2nd or 3rd time reading; that reader touching someone at the moment of death makes them loop too!!! and the fact that it comes into play later on too... on my knees rn.. and i never watched madoka magica but. i see u . nods. and this moment also makes me wonder abt the other ppl that accidentally touched reader before dying, if there were others... imagine how fucked up that'd be </3 and the fact that no one remembers after the loop resets even if reader touched them once.... aourghhhh they are truly alone....

and there is something sooo sinister abt the way reader's deaths are counted up until a certain point, where it skips from loop 10 to 14 to 17 and ongoing.... siiiggghhhhh... get this reader into therapy yesterday (pls this is not a drill /j)

reader's slow mastery (or rather, adjusting) to their technique is done so well too; from the way they conduct themselves to recognizing that every second counts, going from terror and horror to a kind of ... numb acceptance also is a terrifying (/pos) aspect of this fic

Things are going surprisingly well, even as the people around you tumble onto the tracks. You manage to hold on, desperation keeping you from falling into the abyss. This is good, you tell yourself, despite the fact that it’s not the first time you’ve achieved this.

things are going well even tho reader is definitely past the breaking point of "oh my fucking god what the fuck is happening" and they try to fight for survival ... agonknee dot png... no longer are they freaking out but ... theyre just tryna get out of this hell !!

"yet another information gathering loop" is just so devastating to read; that reader has resigned themselves to this torture!!! literal death and torture in the hopes it gets them to a solution, or an loop where they dont die... (me @ reader: i see u are good at compartmentalizing ur emotions... wuld u like to talk abt that.... also pls let me study u like a bug) and that they talk abt making the most of every death :(((( king... let me hold u.... makes me wonder abt how adjusted they were before they found out they could do this...

"Everything plays out before you like a scene out of an action horror flick." oh buddy do i have news for u . KJDHSFJKHSDJH .

as someone who hasn't seen this ep/season its very easy to picture the absolute terror and chaos this fic entails, the crowd of ppl, the turmoil the fuckin.. SCREAMS. my god. also gojo grinding his thussy on jogos arm but this aint abt that

You clearly remember thinking, at some point, previously, that there was something attractive about this man. You still don’t know what it is. You haven’t had the time to try and figure it out, but there is one thing that you do know: you can’t keep your eyes off of him.

looks at nikoo.

i know what u are dot png

anyways <333

reader 😔😔😔 i cant even blame them bc if i had to die in multiple violent horrible ways a million gazillion times id also look for any ounce of entertainment that could keep my sanity somewhat in check, and them being morbidly entranced by the violence of his actions just 😔 i need to put them in those blankets firefighters give to trauma victims, also an ice cream cone

gojo satoru u are an insane little man. take a sip of water every time reader full names him /lh AND THE FUCKIN.

THE FUCKIN HOPE U GET FROM READER GETTING FARTHER IN THE NEXT LOOP THAN THE LAST ONE 😔 ONLY TO HAVE IT RIPPED AWAY WHEN THEY DIE AND HAVE TO START FROM SQUARE ONE... GIVING THEM A TASTE OF HOPE.... evil....... <- lying face down

and the fact that it jumps from 18 times to 26.......... reader..... blink twice if u need help 😔😔��� and the fact that theyre able to remember and keep track of things after dying multiple times is just... argouh..... and then straight to 30!!!! girl!!!!!

and . holy shit.

the dread the fear the terror the HORROR when reader realizes theyre supposed to meet w their friends... and the fact that (aside from u telling me kjdfkjdhsj) that at least one of them definitely died during this.... OUCH????? OUCHHHHHHH... im in agony just thinking abt it 😭😭😭😭 this the only time loop fic im gonna read bc OUCH /j and the awfulness of reader thinking abt having to watch their friends die over and over if they met up... reader forcing themselves to remember they're capable of getting out of here even if it takes a million years.. THINKING ABT THEIR FRIENDS AND LOOKING AT THEIR LOCKSCREEN.... PAY FOR MY TISSUES!!! AGONKNEE DOT PNG

BUT I CANT HELP BEING PROUD OF READER FOR ESCAPING THE LOWER PART OF THE STATION AND MAKING IT TO THE SPOT WHERE MIMIKO AND NANAKO ARE :((((

the bigger the leap of loops is the more devastating it is i think ... 30 to 60... time loop fic makes the despair and helplessness go crazy haha <- dying AND THE FACT THAT READER DOESNT GET TO BUILD ANY MUSCLE EITHER .... AWFUL....

You can't help but watch, but stare at Satoru Gojo as he stalks through the crowd in pursuit of his prey. ... He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.

^ hword moment break. heh. ik what u are reader (cant even blame u gotta do what u gotta do) ok anyways

THE JUMP TO OVER 100 LOOPS IS SO BRUTAL TOO.... HOW COULD U... <- WEEPING CRYING... I WANT TO REACH THRU THE SCREEN AND PULL READER OUT OF HELL

But if anything, you wish you could just die permanently and never have to repeat this night ever again.

^ FALLS TO MY KNEES AGAIN IN THIS WALMART!!!!!!!!! READER !!!!!! WAILING INCONSOLABLE WAILING

and the fact that them reaching gojo and gojos involvement allowed them to get further than ever ... reader realizing they NEED him to break this loop.... aaaarrrrrrggggggghhh.... and fucking. KENNY

KENNY WHEN I FUCKING GET U KENNY . at least he helped reader realize they need gojo's cooperation to stop their loops SDKJHFJKDS...

As he talks, you realize this is probably the first time your death is intentional— every other death you've suffered has just been a byproduct of the ongoing slaughter. You were just another casualty, a victim, never a target.

^ THIS WAS SO DEVASTATING BTW.... READER BEING TARGETED FOR THE FIRST TIME AND KNOWING THEY LITERALLY CANT DO SHIT ABT IT... AARRGGGHHHHHH IM IN AGONY

TEARS IN MY EYES READER I LOVE U ..... THEIR DETERMINATION THO... THEIR EFFORT THEIR HARD WORK.... IM IN SHAMBLES IM IN PIECES

AND THE FACT THAT. THAT THE LOOPS STOP COUNTING. WHAT IF I DIE !!!!!!!!!!!! READER .... AGONKNEE DOT PNG!!!!!! the desperation theyre feeling is so well executed tho.... sniff.... the fact that they are painstakingly stealing back minute by minute.... im on my knees weeping

Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is actually a little overwhelming.

^ heh. gojo fucker /j

You look down at your phone and, sure enough, Satoru Gojo has added himself as one of your contacts. He’s even added a little star to the end of his name. That’s… a little unexpected. Why his number though? “Are you… hitting on me?” you mutter in your confusion.

^ im going to fucking kill him 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 GET UR HEAD IN THE FUCKING GAME GOJO!!!! LOCK IN GOJO!!!!!! FREAK!!!! this did make me laff tho

It is interesting that Gojo has given you his number every time, star symbol and all.

^ thats bc hes a little shit tied to u by fate reader DONT U SEEEEEEE DONT U SEE IT (no bc theyre dealing w immense psychological damage of having died 8736878 million times by now)

You look at the paper; it looks like a receipt. For a disturbing amount of mochi that Gojo bought earlier today. The amount of money he spent is almost sickening; way too much to be paying for mochi. More importantly, you notice something juxtaposed over the receipt’s print.

what if i just burst into tears... <- already crying. reader going thru this shit so many times but me as the audience finding comedy in this moment.. what if i CRY WHAT IF I SCREAM ... i dont even have the right words for how teary eyed this made me fr U_U despite everything its still u kinda thing.... cries....

BUT THEN READER BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF THAT BARRIER!!!! POP OFF KING !!!!!!

AND THE FACT THAT IT GETS HIM TO FINALLY TOUCH THEM AND PULL HIM INTO THE GODDAMN LOOP AFTER LOOKING LIKE AN IDIOT AND GIVING HIS NUMBER TO THEM AN UNGODLY AMT OF TIMES!!!! POP OFF READER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He comes to a stop before you, lips curled up to form an amused sort of smile as he says, “Soooo, you needed to talk to me?”

^ YEAH U STUPID ASSHOLE IDIOT I NEED TO TALK TO U IVE NEEDED TO TALK TO U FOR 600 FUCKEN LOOPS IM GONNA CLOBBER UR EAR!!!!!!! <- THRU TEARS

but the way he teaches reader--helps them realize whats different abt the loop after he touches them...... on my fucking knees....... weeping sobbing.....

His voice sounds strange. Gentle. Kind. It's the most soothing thing you've heard in a long time and it makes you want to believe him.

^ uncontrollable sobbing dot png

“You didn't get rid of the body properly!” You cut him off, raising your voice in hopes that he'll take even just a second to stop and listen. It seems to work and you add something you remember ‘Geto’ saying. “You should have had Shoko Ieiri get rid of it, but you didn’t and now some… some kind of gross brain thing is possessing the corpse!”

^ THIS THIS THIS !!!!!!!!!!!

i think i mentioned it before. but even tho we were jokingly calling it a halloween fic, this whole paragraph and the reveal to gojo just made me shiver so much!!!! the time loop stuff is terrifying of course, but every time i hear/read this line i just do a litttle "euughh" bc !!! rly there is nothing more terrifying abt the idea of something possessing ur best friends dead body!!! there is something so deviously sinister abt this delivery, abt the choice of words of "possessing the corpse" ... bc thats what geto is at this point, and its all kenny 😔 MANNNNNNNN ARRGGHGHHHHHHH

“If I’m doomed to repeat the same situation over and over, I might as well make the most of it,” you respond flatly.

^ 487 DEAD 2948578 INJURED

“You know where I am down to the exact minute?” He asks and you tilt your head back and forth a little. It’s not exact per se, but it’s close enough. Gojo chuckles a little. “Man, I didn’t realize that you were actually that into me.”

^ 1 dead 1 injured (gojo)

It’s hard to argue with him when he uses such a reassuring sounding voice and yet, you still open your mouth to try— to voice your doubts, but what he says next silences you before you even can. “I'll protect you.” You think your heart stops beating in your chest and your words dissolve in your throat.

1 dead 1 injured (me)

He grins at you. “Did you fall in love with me just now?”

^ YOU FUCKINGGGGG WISH GOJOOOOOOOOOOOOO

side note i like that gojo also calls jogo volcano head LMFAOOO... wait does he even know jogos name... anyways

So, instead you give him a smile and it feels a little weird because you don’t remember the last time you did. “Good luck!”

^ reader u are literally everything to me i wuld kill for u i wuld die for u i wuld eat a balanced diet for u my poor meow meow pookie bear shoves gojo aside

You are afraid.

^ i think this is the first time reader actually acknowledges their fear so plainly in this, and that makes it so heartbreaking bc its when theyve 1) successfully filled gojo in on what the fuck is happening and 2) they know what they have to do

and the fact that they ultimately DO let themselves trust gojo to protect them :(((( that he does save them from getting yoinked... MULTIPLE TIMES.... FROM HIS DEAD BEST FRIENDS BODY EVEN.... head in my hands ... pay for my tissues...

“Even if I make it past tonight… What if this all happens again? What if I inadvertently trap myself in another time loop?” you ask. “I… I don’t want to have to go through all of this again. It’s better for me in a place where time doesn’t pass.”

^ READER I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR U I WOULD KILL FOR U I WOULD DIE FOR U I WOULD EAT A BALANC--

AND THE ... !!!!! THEY GOT THEIR HAPPY(?) ENDING... THEY WERE ABLE TO STOP THE LOOP AND ALSO SAVE PPL AT THE STATION and also gojo ig. whatever (/j) AND THEY WERE ABLE TO DO IT ALL !!!!!!!!!

i love this fic truly, so so much , im holding this fic's hand, it's wiping my tears for me (pay for my tissues) and its tucking me into bed at night ... sniff... i love it sm and nikoo beloved worked so hard on it... blood sweat and tears.... FOR MONTHS !!! EVERYONE CHEER AND CLAP AND READ THIS 100 TIMES!!!!!!! OK... THANK U FOR COMING TO MY NIKOO TALK... going to lie in a puddle now....

BONUS if u've made it all this way:

beyond the unending night (reader + satoru gojo)

notes: it's finally here. the long awaited halloween fic. yes, i know it's march, but i did start working on it in september. haha. there's so much i could say, but i will leave it at that this fic is, in every sense, a fic that i would not normally write. and yet here we are.

contains: f!reader (no physical description or gendered language is used), no explicit romantic pairing (though you don't have to look hard to find the reader x gojo implications), major character death (played with), semi-graphic depictions of death, blood and violence, minor suicide ideation, canon retelling (lines of dialogue are pulled from the jjk english dub because i'm a dirty dub watcher). opening poem is from higurashi no naku koro ni (minagoroshi-hen). fic title is from giga's beyond the way.

please note that this is a time loop fic and, by nature contains repeating scenes (particularly from canon). please do not read this fic if you do not like that sort of thing.

wc: 21,883 read on ao3 (account required) || playlist

Please tell me what happened in this night. It's like the cat inside the box.

Please tell me what happened in this night. You don't know if the cat in the box is dead or alive. Please tell me what happened in this night. The cat in the box was dead.

The first time, it is instant— you don’t even know what’s happening.

The second, it is by flame, but you barely realize it, barely feel it— a second of mind numbing heat before nothing.

The third time, it is something slicing across your throat; you see the blood spilling everywhere, then the pain follows— a moment of pure agony before nothing.

The fourth time you realize what’s going on; what’s really going on.

You realize you’ve been dying.

You think your head is going to explode.

At first, you think it’s because the subway platform is crowded, insanely so— there are hundreds of people shoved into this space alongside you, packed like sardines in a can. You’ve never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you live in Tokyo. For the most part, you’ve learned to accept it, but even this crowd is a little much and you wish you hadn’t listened to your friends when they said you should go party in Shibuya for Halloween; you don’t even like partying.

There’s a sharp pain in your temple followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone is screaming it at you through a megaphone positioned right next to your ear.

It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

For the eighth time.

Before you can even question the thought, images flash in your mind’s eye, blurry at first before they come into focus. The platform gates open. Chaos ensues. People dropping onto the subway tracks— spontaneously bursting into flame— their heads, necks sliced off, stomachs cut open—

Bile rapidly builds up in your throat, and you clamp your jaw shut, trying to force it down. Not here. Not now. You try to focus on something else, anything else happening outside of your brain. There’s a pair next to you musing about the people standing on the subway tracks, wondering what the two (the four?) of them are talking about. You blink back tears as you look. You can only see two: a freakishly tall man with white hair dressed in all black, and another man, dressed in strange, yet more traditional looking garb. Are those costumes too? You don’t have a lot of time to think about it as another image forces its way into your brain.

Your corpse— lifeless on the ground.

Your corpse— burning to ash.

Your corpse— bleeding out.

You can’t hold it in any more. Every fiber in your being screams at you to get away from the subway tracks, but instead you rush toward them, shoving people left and right as your hands desperately reach the stability of the gate. You grip it like a lifeline as you retch over the side of it, the contents of your stomach spilling all over the subway tracks.

There’s a quiet murmur of disgust behind you but you can’t be bothered to respond. You need to get out of here. You need to leave. You need to do it before—

The gates open and the crowd starts to move like a tidal wave, pushing and shoving their way through the gate. You’re swept away, vomit long forgotten as you and a few dozen others tumble onto the railway.

Alarm bells go off in your brain, loud and deafening. A voice in the back of your head screams for you to get off the track! Get off the track now before—

The platform erupts into a cacophony of screams, drenched in horror, saturated in fear. You are surrounded by people, by corpses— beheaded, sliced open, bursting into flames.

Your terror roots you to the ground as the carnage ensues around you. It’s only when another person, another corpse, dressed in a magical girl costume collides with your body that you can finally move. But it’s too late, you realize, despaired and helpless, as your bodies fall to the ground.

It’s too late.

You die an eighth time.

You think your chest is going to explode.

At first, you think it’s because it’s so hard to breathe, frustratingly so— there are hundreds of people squeezed into this space alongside you, packed like cattle for slaughter. You've never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you’re in Shibuya. For the most part, you’ve come to accept it, but this crowd is way too much and you wish you had just stayed home and ordered a pizza; though honestly, the thought of pizza kind of makes you sick.

There’s a dull throbbing in your forehead, followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone’s hollering at you from a loudspeaker that’s been installed in your brain.

It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

You think it's the ninth time now.

Behind you, you hear a woman screaming, her voice crazed and terrified. You turn your head automatically to look at her and when you see her you realize you recognize her yellow and white magical girl costume. You can say with certainty that you’ve never seen her before and yet—

Before you can ruminate more on it, images— memories assault your mind’s eye with a clarity that is absolutely sickening. That woman colliding into you, your bodies slamming into the subway tracks before you both— Your stomach churns violently,

and you feel like you’re going to puke, but you force it down— can't afford to right now. Instead, you make your way over to the woman.

Her head is in her hands as she mutters over and over again about how everyone is going to die. People around her figure that being stuck in here with the crowd has probably gotten to her. You, however, know better.

“...hey,” you say softly.

Her muttering comes to an abrupt halt and slowly she raises her head to look at you. There’s a flash of recognition in her eyes and she grabs you violently by the shoulders. “You! You know, don’t you? That we’re going to die?”

If it weren’t for the fact that you have indeed experienced death here eight times already, then you would have thought she’s lost her mind. Slowly, you nod and she seems relieved by it, her grip on you loosening.

You can’t help but feel a little relieved too— glad to know that you’re not the only one experiencing this nightmare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that’s confused though. Why is she only remembering now? But then again, it took you a few times before you realized yourself.

Around you people start to gasp, and you glance back toward the railway to see an abnormally tall man with white hair and dressed in all black jump down from the atrium onto the railway. He lands rather gracefully for someone who jumped at least one floor and starts to converse with the other three people (you think they're people— two of them are in some pretty wild costumes) on the track.

Wait. Isn’t it supposed to be just two people: the tall man and the one in the traditional clothes? Where did the other two come from?

“We have to get out of here,” the woman says. “Before they kill us.”

Her grip shifts from your shoulders to your arms and she starts to shove at everyone around you, trying to force her way through. She seems to know, just as well as you do, that any second now the gates will open and the crowd will start spilling onto the railway, littering the tracks with bodies and ash. Neither of you can let yourselves get swept up with the rest. If you do and you end up on those tracks, you’re as good as dead.

People move aside at a snail's pace, many of them too focused on trying to see what is going on on the subway tracks. This isn't good. You need to move faster or else—

The collective sound of the gates opening echoes in your head, a metallic hiss that makes your stomach fold into itself. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you both whip your heads back to look, to confirm, but it’s a mistake.

The briefest lapse in attention is enough to pull you both into the current of people, and try as you might to fight against it, the crowd splits you and the woman apart as it swallows you both whole. You’re both spat onto the tracks at the edge of the platform and your head collides with the metal rails of the track. It feels like your skull is about to crack in two, and it takes every fiber in your being to scramble to your feet. You're close enough to the platform that if you can just climb up it, then you'll be—

“Help! Help!”

It’s the woman’s voice. You turn to see that she ended up a couple meters away from you. She’s staring at you, eyes brimming with fear filled tears as she extends her hand in your direction. You take a step toward her, reaching out.

And then, her entire body is engulfed in flames, the skirt of her magical girl costume a ring of fiery death around her.

Her blood curdling scream is the only thing you can hear, her burning flesh, the only thing you can see. You don’t know what to do.

You can’t save her.

There's something touching your back. You can barely feel the pressure, but it's hot, scorching hot, mind numbingly hot, painfully hothothot.

You know this sensation. You have felt it before. The scent of burning cloth, burning hair, burning flesh clogs your nostrils. It's too late, you realize, helpless, despaired as the flames eat at your body— your soon to be corpse.

It's too late.

You die a ninth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the tenth time.

Your head hurts, but you ignore it. There’s something more important that you need to attend to. You immediately make your way to the woman you met during your last round, the one you watched burn to death. Her costume is still pristine, unmarred by fire and death.

For now.

She’s not screaming this time and while there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that’s concerned by this, you try to ignore it.

“Um, excuse me?” you say when she doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach.

The woman turns to look at you. You’re taken aback by the distinct lack of recognition and it feels almost as if the woman you encountered previously and the one before you now are two separate people. In a way, they technically are.

“Do I… know you?” she finally asks when you don’t say anything.

Your mouth is dry. How do you even answer that? You don’t know her. You just watched her die twice. You know her. She begged you for help. You couldn’t save her.

If you explain all of this you know she’s just going to think you’ve lost your mind. Maybe you already have— you’ve died nine times after all.

You give her a weak smile. “I… just wanted to tell you that you think your costume looks great.”

She blinks, taken aback by your words. There’s no doubt that she wasn’t expecting you to say that. It’s the truth though, her costume is nice; she’s dressed up as a character from a magical girl anime that was popular a couple years ago.

“Thank you! I made it myself!” The woman breaks out into a genuine smile and your heart hurts. In a few moments she’ll die and the costume she worked so hard to make will be nothing but ash on the subway tracks.

“Sorry,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“For?”

For watching her die. For not being able to save her.“...I just kind of came up to you all of a sudden…”

She laughs. “It’s okay.”

It’s not.

You consider telling her that she should try to move. That if she stays here she will die. You don’t want her to die. Again. You can still hear her screaming in your ears as she burned to death. You want to tell her.

You don’t.

“Stay safe, okay?” you say. It almost sounds like you’re begging.

She gives you another smile, kind and gentle and you think you’re far too undeserving of it for not telling her what fate will soon befall her. “You too.”

“I’ll try,” you say and move away from the woman just as the gates open and the crowd surges toward the railway. You do not fight it as you are swept up into the crowd and despite what you said, you do not try, this time, to stay safe.

You die for the tenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the fourteenth time.

There’s a slight ache in your head, but it’s subtle enough that you can ignore it. The pain you feel lessens with each round and you think it’s a sign that your body no longer feels the need to remind you of the precarious situation that you’re in.

Or maybe you are just becoming numb to everything: your death, the death of the people around you, the death of the woman in the magical girl costume—

You try not to think about it too much as you reach into your bag to check the time on your phone: 8:37PM. There’s not a lot of time: you need to move.

At the very end of your last attempt to escape this nightmare you realized something. You need to know exactly what is going on around you so you can plan accordingly: where to not stand, where to not go. Up until now, you’ve relied almost solely on the knowledge gained from your previous failures to try and survive, but obviously it’s not enough to keep you alive. You’re not sure why you didn’t realize this earlier. The panic, maybe? The fear?

Maybe you really are becoming numb to all this.

Unlike previous iterations, this time you elect to move closer to the gate, positioning yourself somewhere against it where you’re unlikely to be pushed off the platform in a couple minutes when they open. You take great care to place yourself where you can see the ones responsible for the slaughter very clearly. At the beginning, you could only see one, the one who looks the most human, but with each repetition, the other two have become more and more clear. You wonder why. You don’t have time to think about it.

Murmurs nearby alert you to the arrival of the fourth major player involved in the night’s events. You look up and see the white haired man dressed in all black descending upon the platform like an angel from the heavens. This is your first time really looking at him and you realize there’s something almost inhumanly attractive about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it occurs to you that you shouldn’t even try; you don’t have the time to be drooling over some handsome stranger.

You’ve naturally never taken the time to try and listen to whatever the conversation the man and his opponents have before all hell breaks loose on the platform, but you try and lean closer to listen. It’s hard to hear over the dozens of conversations going on behind you, but you try anyway. There might be a clue to what’s actually going on— or better yet, a clue on how to get out of it.

It’s obvious that you’re missing context from what bits of the conversation you do manage to hear, but honestly it all sounds like stuff out of a shounen battle manga. There is one part of the exchange that you manage to hear with a startling sort of clarity. It feels almost as if your heart stops beating as your blood turns ice cold in your veins.

“If I run away, you’re just gonna kill everyone here, right?” the man in black asks.

There’s a pause, and if your heart was still beating it’d be long enough for just four heartbeats.

“If you run away?” The monster with cane repeats, the sadistic grin spreading wide across its features, displaying its charcoal black teeth. The gravelly sound of its voice sets fire to the blood in your veins, your stilled heart thumping wildly, in fear, in anticipation. Soon. It’s happening soon. You brace yourself. “We’re going to do that even if you don’t!”

You die a fourteenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the seventeenth time now.

Things are going surprisingly well, even as the people around you tumble onto the tracks. You manage to hold on, desperation keeping you from falling into the abyss. This is good, you tell yourself, despite the fact that it’s not the first time you’ve achieved this. Every little victory is worth celebrating, but you have to remain vigilant. This is yet another information gathering loop, and while you know that maybe this time you’ll be lucky and live, there’s still a chance, a big one, at that, that you will die again.

You have to make the most of each and every death.

It’s such a morbid thought, but the ends justify the means, or so you tell yourself. If you have to die a few times to make it out of this unending nightmare, then so be it.

The spot you’re in is a good vantage point; it’s easier to see everything happening below you. It’s so good that it’s actually sickening. You watch as the monster with the cane and one with what looks like branches for eyes slaughter the people on the track, mowing them down, setting them aflame. In another life, in another many lives, that was you down there, and for what feels like the first time in forever, you feel like you’re going to be sick. You feel like, at some point, you likened the scene before you to some kind of shounen battle manga, but you think that was wrong.

This is borderline horror.

Everything plays out before you like a scene out of an action horror flick. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were just an extra on set, but you know the reality is that you’re just an extra to whatever phantasmal battle is taking place in front of you. The monsters and the strangely dressed man all try to attack the man in black, but he manages to block every hit effortlessly, as if he is protected by some sort of invisible barrier. When it seems the two monsters are about to hit him, he merely jumps out of the way and the two monsters seem to collide, the force of their combined strength sending a gust of air throughout the crowd. The man in black neatly lands on a nearby platform half wall and says something about curse users, whatever those are, to the monsters, before he starts to mock them, pulling down his strange blindfold in the process.

And this, you’ve found, is where you start to get in trouble.

You clearly remember thinking, at some point, previously, that there was something attractive about this man. You still don’t know what it is. You haven’t had the time to try and figure it out, but there is one thing that you do know: you can’t keep your eyes off of him.

He drops back down onto the tracks, antagonizing his opponents in an arrogant tone as he approaches. When he comes to a stop between the two monsters, the second round of their fight begins. They try to hit him, but he dodges still, gracefully, fluidly, like the three of them are embroiled in some sort of passionate, yet violent dance.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he cruelly rips off one of the arms of the one-eyed monster.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he brutally kicks the branch-eyed monster in the abdomen, sending them flying to the other side of the platform.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he effortlessly hurls the one-eyed, now one-armed monster in the same direction, sending them smashing into the wall.

Only when the man in black seems to fly to the other side is the spell over you seemingly broken. Still, your eyes give chase, and your body too, rushing from one side of the platform to the other. You can’t lose sight of this fight, you tell yourself, settling in a spot you recall being safe during your last round. Doing so could mean another death, another loop, another October 31.

You watch as the man in black acrobatically dodges what looks to be vines or roots that the monster with branches for eyes seems to have summoned from the depths of the Tokyo metro. He lands on the monster’s shoulders, balancing on them as he uses its branch-eyes for leverage. The look in the man’s eyes is so crazed that you can see it from where you’re standing. He says something to it and then—

With a feral and sadistic smile, he rips their eyes straight out of their skull.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest as you watch the fight unfold. It is horrifyingly, disgustingly violent, yet still you watch as people on the track are killed by the human-like person, blood raining down as their freshly beheaded skulls go flying into the air. He and the one-eyed monster launch their counter attacks against the man in black and the blowback is so intense the power goes out causing everyone to scream.

There’s a faint glow where the man in black is standing that starts to grow brighter and brighter. You can make out his form turning to face the wall, and it seems almost like he’s slammed the monster that had branches for eyes against it with some sort of telekinetic power. Despite the panic from the people around you, you manage to hear him, chuckling like a mad man as he draws closer and closer to the monster.

The one-eyed monster yells out a name, a name you think must belong to the man, but he doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as he extends his hands out toward the eyeless monster, exerting some kind of force that you can’t really see. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as the eyeless monster’s entire body is vaporized in a flash of blue light. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster, as the lights flicker back on revealing a smoking crater stained with purple blood where the eyeless monster once stood.

But you do.

Satoru Gojo.

You make sure to remember that.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And this is the eighteenth time.

You watch as the man called Satoru Gojo stalks through the crowd of people on the subway tracks, chasing after the one-eyed fire monster. It throws people at him, in a clear attempt to slow him down.

It does not work.

Satoru Gojo climbs back onto the platform in a way that you can only describe as inhuman, and the people nearby shriek and move away from him, out of terror, out of fear. You, on the other hand, draw closer, refusing to lose sight of him.

He is relentless in his pursuit of the one-eyed monster. It continues to throw person after person at him, but he does not stop and the people float there, suspended in midair before they are gently lowered to the ground by some unseen force and scramble away.

No one dares get close to Satoru Gojo, everyone on the platform seems to know that doing so means certain death, yourself included. But you still feel the need to keep an eye on him. The monster and the strangely dressed man are focusing more on him than the crowd— anyone in between is just collateral damage.

But not you.

Especially since you’ve made it this far— you’ve never made it this far before.

A voice echoes throughout the platform; you realize it’s the automated announcement.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

You can hear everyone’s relief coming from all sides. The train is coming! The train is coming! A ripple of hope makes its way throughout the crowd. With the train comes the chance to get off the platform and the senseless violence that’s been happening here. Some of the people around you are talking excitedly and others are running toward the gates, toeing the yellow line they’ve been instructed to wait behind. And you, you should be excited, you should be hopeful.

All you feel is dread.

It eats at your stomach, at your chest, at your mind. Clawing and gnawing at you in a way that leaves you paralyzed on the platform. There’s something wrong here. You can’t be sure because you’ve never made it this far, never survived long enough for the train to come, but something is just not right.

No.

You must be paranoid. The train coming is a good thing. It has to be a good thing. You are just paranoid. It’s normal. It’s natural. Dying seventeen times would do that to anyone— rob them of hope, condemn them to an existence full of fear.

It is not lost on you that the thought of dying more than once, much less, dying seventeen times is not normal or natural in the very slightest.

But you need hope, you crave it, wildly, desperately. The hope of freedom, of escape is the only thing getting you through this unending nightmare. Every time you die, every time you wake, it is with the hope that maybe, just maybe this iteration will be different, maybe this one will be the one where you make it out, make it back to your friends who must be waiting for you, make it back home where you can be safe and sound. You need the hope to keep going. Because without hope, what will you have left?

The train screeches as it pulls into the station and the people around you laugh in both disbelief and relief. They start to push and shove toward it, fighting to be able to board because there’s no way everyone here will be able to get on an eight car train and being left behind at this point is practically synonymous with death. Unable to decide if you believe in the train as a symbol of hope or a new layer of fear, you are pushed along with the crowd toward it.

The doors of the train cars slide open and the current passengers all rush off as they disembark. You as well as everyone else on the platform can see with a horrifying clarity that the train is filled to the brim with monsters. Monsters that reach out and grab anyone their hands can reach. The woman to your left. The person to your right.

You.

Hope is gone.

What do you have left?

You die for the eighteenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is probably the twenty-sixth time now.

If there is anything this entire ordeal has taught you, it is that you are resilient. Whether it is some innate trait that you never had any reason to uncover before or just a byproduct of being trapped in an unending cycle of being dead and not dead, you don't know. What you do know, though, is that even if you no longer have hope, you at least have your resilience.

Whether you want it or not.

You check the time. It’s 8:35PM. Something flickers in your chest, like a faint light in a sea of darkness, but you ignore it. You don’t have time right now.

With a nimbleness born from your previous failures, you weave your way through the crowd. You’ve done this enough times to know where the gaps are— who will yield and who won’t. Your destination is the escalator that leads off the platform and up to a higher part of the station. You’d noticed previously that the escalator along with every other entrance onto the platform will eventually be blocked by vines or roots of some sort (the work of the branch-eyed monster probably). It’s not a perfect plan because you don’t know what happens on the other side, but whatever it is has to be better than whatever is happening on the side that you’ve been on.

You’d tried to get to the stairs during your last two rounds, but you’d just missed it. You hadn’t been fast enough and had gotten caged and slaughtered along with the rest. But this time, this time you have more time. It’s just one minute, but it’s enough. You know it is.

The flickering in your heart grows stronger. Hope. You try not to pay attention to it— you don’t want to be disappointed yet again. But you want to so badly. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to focus on the good, tells you that if there was truly no way out of this endless nightmare, then why would you get more and more time with each round to escape your fate?

With that thought in mind, you break out into a run, recklessly rushing through the crowd, shoving anyone who will not yield to the side. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the stark white of Satoru Gojo’s hair as he descends upon the platform.

You need to get up those stairs.

Now.

If you remember correctly, the roots and vines don’t close off the area the moment he touches down, but a little after they start talking, so you think there is probably some time, but you can’t leave it to chance.

The stairs are packed, and for some reason no one is moving. The escalator right next to it is just as full and the power doesn’t seem to be working. You don’t have time for this. You clamber onto the escalator’s rubber handrail, ignoring the weird feeling that passes through your body as you do so. You don’t have the time to worry about whatever that is. The people around you start exclaiming around you, but you don’t care, you don’t listen. You wobble as you try to balance yourself and when you think you’re steady you try to run.

But you trip.

And you die for the twenty-sixth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This marks the thirtieth time.

And you have, finally, finally made it up the escalator, up the stairs with barely a second to spare. You pause, glancing back as the roots or vines or whatever the hell they are seal off the entrance to the platform. You notice that the area where the plants come down is actually fairly clear, despite the crowd. It seems weird, but you don’t dwell on it.

A strange feeling envelops your entire body and your legs turn into jelly. As you sink to the floor, you realize what you’re feeling is relief as all the tension, maybe thirty iterations of Halloween 2018 worth, seeps from your being. You don't remember the last time you felt anything other than fear and dread; it’s weird, but not unwelcome.

That voice in the back of your mind tells you that you can't relax just yet: October 31st isn’t over. Even though you have repeated this night again and again, burning the events that play out on the platform into your memory, you do not know a single thing that happens over here. It would be smart to scope everything out.

Legs still shaky, you rise to your feet and start walking. You think it’s probably for the best to try and head up to the surface and you make your way up to the next floor.

It’s packed with people here too, but relatively peaceful, especially when you compare it to the pandemonium taking place beneath your feet. Still, you can make out the undeniable hum of displeasure resonating throughout the crowd. People complaining about how uncomfortable their costumes are, people complaining about how much they want to go home, people complaining about how much their nights have been ruined because they couldn’t meet up with their friends and—

A thought hits you like an eight car train.

You were supposed to meet up with your friends.

That’s why you were on the platform in the first place— you were waiting for them to arrive, but then the trains stopped working, and people just started pouring into the station out of seemingly nowhere (you think you heard some people say they’d come from the crossing?). Soon after that is when everything went to shit.

You check your phone, though, for once it’s not to look at the time (8:56PM). Instead, you open LINE to check your friends’ group chat. There’s no signal here, for whatever reason, so if there are any new messages, you haven’t received them. The last one was from Kei, mentioning he was enroute, but as far as you know, you’re the only one who made it to Shibuya before the trains stopped.

Did one of them maybe make it here though? Surely, you would have run into them if—

The image of a woman in a magical girl costume fills your vision, burning to death before your very eyes as her screams echo in your ears. It is the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve thought about her and your stomach churns violently. You couldn’t help her, you can’t even help yourself, so how could you even expect to do the same for your friends if they were here? The mere thought of having to watch them die over and over is almost enough to send you over the edge. You don’t know if you could do it.

Would you even have a choice?

No. You can't think like that. You have choices. You've had choices. If you didn’t then, you would still be down below, among the fire and brimstone. Dying, if not dead already. However, instead, you are up here, where, for the moment, it is quiet and peaceful.

That thought, in of itself, is enough to give you a shred of solace, a glimmer of hope.

You take a deep breath and fiddle with your phone a little more, changing your lock screen to a picture you and your friends took at a photo booth not too long ago. The four of you are huddled together, faces squished as if you're all struggling to fit in the frame, despite there being plenty of room. You're mid-laugh because it's the first time you've been in a photo booth in years, Mio and Shin are grinning mischievously and finally, Kei is smiling, but only just slightly, the embarrassment clear on his face. It's probably only been a few months since you all took this picture, but the fact that it feels like it's been years makes your heart ache.

You press your forehead to the screen, like a prayer, like a promise.

You will make it out of this nightmare.

No matter what.

A shrill scream yanks you from your thoughts and you are instantly on your feet, alert as your eyes flit around frantically to identify the source. It doesn't take long for you to find it and when you do, you think you might have stumbled upon a new layer of horror to this nightmare.

It’s not the corpse, dangling by a noose, that terrifies you— by now you’ve seen dozens upon dozens of dead bodies that the sight of just one more doesn’t faze you in the slightest. The thing that’s the most mortifying, that’s the most disturbing is that right next to where the body is tied are two girls, two teenage girls still dressed in their school uniforms.

You can accept monsters and weirdly dressed men being responsible for the carnage tonight, but children too? Both girls look like they’re barely in high school and try as you might to rationalize things, to chalk it up to coincidence, you cannot ignore the ominous energy radiating from them.

The very notion that these two children could have killed someone here is a hard pill to swallow, but so is the fact that you’ve died.

And you’ve had to swallow that pill thirty times now, so what’s once more?

“Listen up!” one of the girls yells over the crowd, but she is mostly ignored; you don’t think everyone here has noticed her and the corpse dangling from the rafters. She scowls and turns to the other girl and says something quietly to her. The other girl nods and almost instantly she’s stringing up another person, another example. You want to look away so badly, and yet you cannot bring yourself to and you watch the poor soul choke to death.

“I said listen, you dumb monkeys!” the girl shouts, and this time she’s caught most of the crowd’s attention. “If you don’t want to end up like these two, you’ll listen to what we have to say!”

There is clear dissent among the crowd, people dismissive as they utter their disbelief. Some seem to think it’s a prank, but you know better. It takes two more examples before the crowd goes silent before the two high schoolers.

“About damn time!” The girl roars and then points toward the atrium, which is currently covered by roots and branches. “All of you move over there!”

You have a bad feeling about this.

Still, you comply; the girls have made it abundantly clear that failure to do so will result in death, though, at this point, you're almost certain this iteration is a bust and death is all but imminent. You try to keep positive— thinking you can at least gather information or, who knows, maybe there's a chance that this one is the one.

Yet when you step onto the mound of vines and branches that cover the atrium it feels as if you've crossed the threshold into hell. Your footing is stable… but for how long?

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

It's faint, but you can hear the announcement from below. The liquid in your stomach curdles at the sound as you recall the train and, in particular, what is on board. Soon enough, those monsters will be swarming the platform, massacring everyone in reach, guzzling down their blood, feasting on their flesh—

It dawns on you that the people on the platform are the monsters' first course.

And you, and those around you here in the shrubbery, are the second.

As you realize this, the branches and vines disintegrate beneath your very feet and suddenly you are mid air— falling, falling into the abyss below.

You die for the thirtieth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

You've done this nearly sixty times now.

After countless failures, you've decided that you're just not going to go upstairs any more. No matter where you try to go, you still end up herded onto the death trap above the platform where you ultimately fall to your death. You've tried positioning yourself in the same spot, tried bracing yourself for the drop— but nothing seems to work: upon landing, assuming you manage to land without hurting yourself or dying in midair (which has happened a couple times) you get grabbed and killed by one of the monsters from the train. It's probably not impossible, you just don't have the physical prowess or reflexes for it.

If anything, you can try again later, but you sincerely hope you don't have to.

It's 8:32PM, and you have plenty of time to get to your chosen spot for this loop— it's close to the stairs, in the very center of the platform. Here, there's little risk of getting pushed off onto the tracks when the gates open. You'll probably have to move when the train comes, or even before (assuming you survive) to avoid the monsters, but you'll get to that when it's time.

You can't really see the fight once it breaks out after Satoru Gojo arrives, but you still try to keep track of it as best as you can. You see when he hurls both monsters across the platform and you're not sure if it's muscle memory or what but you have to fight the urge to move to the side and watch. It's been a while, yes, but you've seen the fight countless times before— it doesn't change. Satoru Gojo will give chase. He will rip the branches from the branch eyed monster's skull. He will use some kind of power to eviscerate them.

You don't need to watch, but there's something in you that wants to.

It doesn't make sense, you've seen it all before; if you're unlucky you'll see it all again.

The lights go out and people start screaming; Satoru Gojo is ending the life of that one monster. Soon enough he'll be back on the platform, in pursuit of the other. You think at that point it would be good to move, reposition yourself as far from the incoming train as possible.

When he rises from the tracks like a demon straight from hell, you realize it's the first time this loop that you've actually gotten a good look at him. You remind yourself, again, that this isn't the first time you've seen this man, this scene. You can't help but watch, but stare at Satoru Gojo as he stalks through the crowd in pursuit of his prey. His expression is an eerie sort of calm that's at odds with the acts of violence you've seen him commit— his eyes an unnaturally bright blue.

He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

The sound of the announcement sends your heartbeat into a frenzy, snapping you out of your little trance. The train is coming and you need to get moving. As you dart to the edge of the platform, the thought occurs to you that even if you avoid the initial wave of monsters, it's likely you will inevitably be caught by them and killed. It wouldn't be impossible for Satoru Gojo to turn his attention to them instead of the two he's currently facing, but he's just one man— can he truly defeat all those monsters?

You can see the train pulling in and you brace yourself, praying that it'll work out somehow.

The doors hiss open and the screaming starts again as the monsters come bursting out of the train, biting and mauling anyone they can get their hands on. Those who were lucky enough to not be at the front start to scramble away and the monsters give chase. Your body is taut, ready to try and dodge any that come your way.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice something moving through the air. A person? With blue hair? You take the risk to look— they're attacking Satoru Gojo. He tries to punch them but they fly away from him to dodge— disappearing into the crowd.

You hear a loud cracking sound over the cacophony of the crowd and your stomach twists; you know what that sound is. The roots above the atrium disintegrate and bodies from above start to rain down onto the platform.

And then, you're not sure what happens— it's so quick that you only manage to see what looks like an explosion of blood surrounding Satoru Gojo. Corpses litter the ground around him and even from here you can tell he is shaken by the carnage.

The monsters have finally reached where you're standing, and you duck under one as it lunges at you. Although it's big and scary, you realize it's moving kind of slow. Right after it another one comes at you and you take a side step to avoid it; this monster is kind of slow too.

Maybe you can do this.

As soon as you think that a strange feeling courses through you. Every hair on your body feels like it's standing on edge and the voice in your head is telling you to look at Satoru Gojo. You don't understand why because you think he's the least of your worries right now, but you do it anyway.

He's in some sort of stance, one hand raised to his face, fingers bent in some kind of gesture. There's some sort of aura, oppressive and frightening emanating from his form.

Satoru Gojo is doing something.

You just can't tell what.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you are utterly confused.

Barring your first few loops when you weren't fully aware of what was happening, you have very distinct memories of how each of your previous iterations of this night have gone— of each and every one of your deaths. But for your last round, the last thing you remember was feeling the immense power radiating from Satoru Gojo's body, but that's it.

You do not remember dying.

In fact, you don't think you did.

And yet, here you are again, back at the start: it's 8:32PM and the monsters and strangely dressed man are standing on the subway tracks waiting for the arrival of Satoru Gojo.

You don't understand what's going on; you didn't die but you're still stuck in this damn loop. Up until now, your death has served as the trigger to restart the loop. It's not impossible that maybe you suffered a quick and painless death but you're almost certain that isn't the case.

Something else must have happened.

Something having to do with Satoru Gojo.

You have to find out what. If you don't, you won't know how to avoid it, and if you can't do that, then you really might spend an eternity stuck in this nightmare. And so you take great care to repeat the steps of your last round. You need to make sure to survive to the same point you made it to last time.

Miraculously, you do.

The moment you feel that sensation again, a prickling sort of feeling that envelops your entire body, your eyes are on Satoru Gojo— trying to figure out what the hell he's doing. His eyes are crazed with a desperate kind of focus. You see his mouth move— he's saying something. A spell? A prayer? A curse?

You don't know.

You do know.

Your brain feels like it's going to explode.

Again.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

Again.

You do not know how many times it's been the night of Halloween in Shibuya: you stopped counting around the hundredth loop. It feels like it's been a while since then. Or maybe it hasn't? You don't know any more.

What you do know is that this night ends up going one of two ways before you are forced to repeat it. Either you die, in some way, shape or form or something happens just after nine that forces you to reset. You still don't know what it is exactly; you only know that Satoru Gojo is responsible for it.

You do prefer it to dying— it's far less painful.

But if anything, you wish you could just die permanently and never have to repeat this night ever again.

Unfortunately, you know better.

The only good thing you’ve noticed about all of this is that you really do seem to keep waking up earlier and earlier. The last time you checked, it was at around 8:30. It might take hundreds of thousands of loops, but eventually you’ll certainly wake up early enough to avoid this damn entire mess.

But by the time that happens… will your sanity still be intact? Will you really be able to go back to a normal day to day life after living the equivalent of hundreds of years, repeating the same night over and over again? You don’t even know how you’ve managed to stay sane all this time and as much as you want to believe you could do it…

There has to be a breaking point.

For both your mind and this time loop.

If you’re lucky, you’ll reach the latter first.

There’s a dull ache in your head that feels foreign yet familiar. Your mind is foggy, all your thoughts hazy as you try to recall what the word for this feeling is.

Groggy.

It feels as if you’ve woken up from a nap and you blink the sleepiness away from your eyes. When was the last time you took a nap? It’s been a while… You think you maybe tried once or twice, but you were too nervous, too on edge. Awake or asleep, it didn’t matter because, either way, you were doomed to repeat this nightmare.

As you think this, you realize that something is different.

You’re used to how the start of each loop feels like waking up suddenly and abruptly and it becomes clear to you that you haven’t looped. This is completely uncharted territory.

You need to find out what’s going on.

The first thing you notice is that it’s quiet. Almost eerily so, especially when the last thing you remember was screaming and chaos. You glance around you and find that it looks like all the monsters from the train are dead, the ground littered in their bloodstains and corpses. There were so many of them, you don’t know how someone could have wiped them out so quickly… Could it possibly have been Satoru Gojo’s doing?

More concerning than the complete eradication of the monsters is the fact that nearly everyone else on the platform is standing stock still, their mouths ajar with blank expressions on their faces. It’s almost as if their souls have completely vacated their bodies…

Were you like that too before you woke up?

You hear voices, and your body immediately goes tense as you turn your head in their direction. A little ways ahead of you, you see a man dressed as a monk conversing with the blue haired person from earlier and before them is—

Your heart nearly stops: it’s Satoru Gojo, restrained and on his knees.

Honestly, you can’t make heads or tails of the conversation they’re having; it’s more shounen battle manga nonsense. Satoru Gojo doesn’t seem to be enjoying their conversation either, and he interrupts them, clearly annoyed.

“Are we gonna do this or what?” he asks. “The view sucks and I’m just kinda bored.”

“I wanted to enjoy this sight for a little bit longer, but you are right,” the monk says. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen— gate, close.”

When he says that, Satoru Gojo’s restraints move, the weirdly shaped cubes at the ends of them closing in around him, trapping him in a giant red cube. It starts to shrink until it’s small enough to fit in the monk’s hand.

You gulp and hope they don’t notice that you’re awake. The fact that they haven’t slaughtered the rest of the people standing around you is a good sign, but you don’t want to find out what happens if they know you’re cognizant.

It’s not hard to play the part of a living statue, especially when you compare it to everything else you’ve had to suffer through on this night. You watch as the monk’s allies, the ones who had attacked everyone on the platform, wake up, but before they can do or say anything, the box holding Satoru Gojo slips through the monk’s fingers and makes a dent in the concrete. The look on the monk’s face makes it clear that it’s a problem he wasn’t expecting.

You don’t know a damn thing about Satoru Gojo, but you feel like this kind of thing is the norm for him.

The blue haired person suddenly looks in your direction and you nearly stop breathing. Have they noticed you? It takes everything in you to keep perfectly still, in hopes that maybe they didn't, that maybe they’re looking at something else. They raise their arm and it extends, their hand acting like some kind of projectile. You almost shut your eyes and brace yourself for impact, but their hand flies upwards and hits something on the ceiling, destroying it.

Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief— you’re still safe.

For now.

You listen to their following conversation and while you still don’t fully understand everything, it’s clear they’re talking about what to do next since they’ve taken care of Satoru Gojo. Something having to do with someone named Yuji Itadori? The group seems split on what to do about him but it’s clear he’s their next target.

Eventually, everyone but the monk (you heard the blue haired person, who is apparently named Mahito, call him Geto?) runs off, probably to find this Yuji Itadori person. Once they’re gone, Geto speaks and, at first, you think he’s talking to you, but it becomes clear he’s addressing someone else. “Those cursed spirits are actually smarter than the two of you.”

“Give him back!” a voice hidden among the crowd hisses. Your blood runs cold at the sound. You recognize it; it’s one of the high school girls from the upper floor.

“We cooperated with you fully and kept dropping monkeys for you,” says another voice; it must be the other girl that was with her, the one who hung all those people.

“Now give us back Master Geto’s body like you promised!”

“Don’t toy with Master Geto any further than you have!”

You blink in confusion. Isn’t the monk named Geto? The way the girls are talking it sounds like they’re talking about someone else… Is it possible that the body is ‘Geto’ but the person they’re talking to is someone else possessing it? It sounds kind of crazy, but then again, so is every single thing you’ve experienced tonight.

Your suspicions concerning this ‘Geto’ are confirmed only seconds later as he says, “Now begone, or is it your desire to be killed by this body?”

One of the girls vows her revenge and you hear shuffling somewhere else in the crowd as they scurry away. Now you think it’s just you and whoever it is that’s puppeting Geto’s body. You see him plop down in front of the box (the prison realm, you think he’d called it) that’s holding Satoru Gojo.

“You can come out, you know,” he says after a while.

You freeze. The rest of the platform is completely silent. This time you think he might actually be talking to you.

“I know you’re there,” ‘Geto’ adds, his voice casual. “If you’re insistent on hiding, you should know that I’m not afraid of using whatever means necessary to smoke you out.”

Given everything his allies have done, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s serious. You were hoping to hide out among the crowd until he decided to leave, but it looks like you won’t be able to now.

Looks like this loop is a bust after all.

Your heart starts to race as you weave your way through the crowd. In every single one of your loops, you were always treated like a bit character, never noticed or singled out by any of the major players of the night. Although this is your first time encountering this ‘Geto’ it’s clear to you that he’s involved with everything that’s happened here and honestly, you get the feeling he might actually be the mastermind behind the massacre.

That makes you even more nervous.

You come to a stop in the place where Satoru Gojo was once kneeling before he was put in that box. Now that you’re out in the open, ‘Geto’ looks you over with some sort of nonchalant curiosity.

“You’re…” he starts, sounding thoughtful, "not a sorcerer, are you?”

Sorcerer. You heard that term thrown around by him and his group a few times. It’s what they’ve been referring to their enemies as. It probably wouldn’t be smart to lie and say you are one; you get the feeling he’d see through your lie anyway. “I’m not.”

He hums. “How interesting.”

“...what do you mean?” you ask before you can help yourself.

“It’s just you have an abnormally large amount of cursed energy for a non-sorcerer,” he explains. “Though, I suppose that all just sounds like gibberish to you."

You nod and look down at the box lodged in the floor. It has eyes, big creepy looking eyes. "...are you going to do the same thing to me as you did to that man?"

He laughs, "...fortunately for you, the prison realm only holds one person at a time and I need him sealed away more than you."

"...does that mean you're going to leave him in there forever?"

"If I'm feeling nice, I might unseal him in a hundred years or so."

One hundred years? At this point, you've probably lived roughly that amount of time through your loops alone, but for Satoru Gojo… "Won't he die first?"

"Only if he decides to," 'Geto' says, looking completely and wholly unbothered. "Time doesn't doesn't flow in the box, so when I unseal him, he'll be the same as he was just now. Physically anyway. Who knows how deteriorated his mind will be after all that."

Time doesn't flow in the box.

The words echo in your mind over and over. Time doesn't flow in the box. In other words, that means time has stopped in the box, and if that's the case then—

"Anyway, rather than worry about him, shouldn't you be more worried about yourself?"

You look at 'Geto' and he's smiling at you, it's friendly, but ominous. There's no doubt what is going to happen next, though you had already resigned yourself to this iteration being a bust; it was only a matter of time.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

"I was thinking I might keep you around, even if you aren’t a sorcerer, your wealth of cursed energy would serve my plans well," he muses. "But… it would be too much trouble trying to teach you how to use it in time."

As he talks, you realize this is probably the first time your death is intentional— every other death you've suffered has just been a byproduct of the ongoing slaughter. You were just another casualty, a victim, never a target.

You're scared.

Even though you know that once he kills you, once you die, you'll just loop back to around 8:30 again. You'll be on the platform again. And you'll play out some sequence of events before you eventually die again. And again and again.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

"I'll be nice, though," 'Geto' says, raising a hand and another monster appears out of nowhere. You don’t even bother trying to figure out from where. It doesn’t matter, especially since this monster will surely be the one to end your life. "I'll make it painless."

"...I appreciate it," you say and close your eyes hoping that he's not lying about it.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

He didn't lie.

You die again.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you're trapped.

You don't know how and you don't know why, but you are stuck in a time loop— forced to suffer through the horrific events of the night before you die and begin it all again. It's been a long time since you stopped counting how many loops you've gone through, but if you had to guess, it's probably somewhere in the hundreds now.

You are so very tired.

But it doesn't stop. It won't stop no matter what you seem to do. You are stuck. You are trapped. You are doomed.

“Time doesn't flow in the box.”

Ever since that first loop where you heard whoever is possessing Geto's body say that, the words have been stuck in your head, playing on loop.

You finally realize why.

“Time doesn't flow in the box.”

It's 8:25PM when you wake up; that should be plenty of time.

You need to find Satoru Gojo.

After hundreds of loops you've come to a singular conclusion: you need to prevent him being sealed in the prison realm. You've witnessed it enough to know that you won't be able to do it alone; you'll need his cooperation.

You rush upstairs as fast as you can, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine as you step onto the stairwell. According to your previous loops, Satoru Gojo arrives on the subway tracks at 8:40PM. With how crowded the upper floor is, you don’t know if you’ll have the time to intercept him and talk to him, but if you can at least figure out where to find him, then you can try and talk to him during a subsequent loop.

When you reach the fourth basement floor, however, you don’t know where you should even start. He’s pretty tall so you think you could spot him in the crowd, but… there are still so many people. It occurs to you that maybe it would be better to try and look from a higher vantage point so you head to the stairs that lead up to the third basement floor. You check your phone again. It’s 8:35PM; you need to hurry.

Luckily for you, you find him very easily on the third basement floor.

The only problem is that he’s in a hard to reach spot— squatting above a sign hanging over the crowd.

You check your phone again. It’s 8:38PM and he’s starting to move, presumably to meet with those waiting for him on the subway tracks. It’s good that you found him, but there’s no doubt about it.

You’re going to need more time.

The moment you wake up, you immediately bolt toward the stairs. It's taken many, many more loops, but you've finally brought the time you wake down to around 8:15. You're still not sure if it's enough time, but there's only one way to find out.

You barrel your way up to the next floor and zig zag through the crowd to get to the next flight of stairs. By the time you get to your destination, you're completely out of breath, your chest heaving as your lungs clamor for air. You’ve done this so many times, yet your body acts like it’s always the first. It sucks, but there’s nothing you can do about it. You slow to a brisk pace to catch your breath and check the time. It’s 8:27— a new record. Hopefully it’ll be enough.

The goal is to catch Satoru Gojo before he moves to his lookout point above the crowd. While not impossible, it would be difficult for you to follow him there. You eye the safety barricade that blocks off the area where he’ll be moving in just a few minutes warily.

Yes, getting over there would be extremely difficult.

You don’t want to think about it right now; you’ll deal with it when the time comes.

Especially since Satoru Gojo has now entered your field of vision.

Your heart starts to race at the sight of him and it feels like it’s beating a million times a second. There isn’t a lot of time. You need to talk to him, but your legs only wobble, your feet planted firmly to the ground. This is not good. You need to move. You need to move.

Finally, after what feels like both an instant and an eternity, your feet finally budge, propelling you in Satoru Gojo’s direction. The beating of your heart only grows louder as you make your way toward him, mingling with the single thought that’s echoing throughout your mind right now: will he even hear you out?

You need to make him.

“Excuse me!” The words nearly come out in a stutter as you realize that you are actually talking to Satoru Gojo. You have watched this man at a distance for so long that it almost felt like he wasn’t real, like he was just another fixture in this nightmare that you’ve been living for far too long. And yet, here he is, right in front of you, in the flesh.

And his attention is on you.

All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is actually a little overwhelming. Your mouth is dry and suddenly you don’t know what to say, but you need to say something. You need to say something before he thinks maybe you bumped into him by accident and just walks away without a word.

“I need to talk to you!” The words just burst out from your mouth and something about it is just absolutely embarrassing. You’re not sure if it's desperation or the fact that you haven’t really talked to anyone other than the existence occupying Suguru Geto’s body in nearly forever.

Satoru Gojo’s lips slowly start to form a smile, “Oh, yeah?”

The sound of his voice makes your mind go blank. There’s something different about it right now; more playful, amused even. Maybe it’s because he’s talking to you, a harmless human being and not a monster trying to kill him. It’s almost kind of jarring, but you know, with certainty, what Satoru Gojo’s voice sounds like. And the fact that he’s actually talking to you right now has you kind of excited. You nod, doing your best to not show how thrilled you are that he’s not ignoring you.

He hums thoughtfully, “Sorry… but unfortunately I kind of have some business to attend to right now.”

“I—” You start to say that you know that he’s headed down to the platform below to fight with…Choso and Jogo, you think their names are— you don’t know the name of the monster with the branches for eyes. “It’s— it’s really important!”

Gojo tilts his head a little, clearly thinking. You should probably say something else, something to try and convince him to stay a little longer and hear you out, but your mind is both full and blank. Where do you start? From the beginning? Or do you start with what is most important? Maybe you should say what you think will get his attention. You’re not sure, and you realize you really should have thought about this earlier because you’re running out of time right now.

“...mind handing me your phone?”

You stare at Gojo, completely and wholly confused, but he just holds out his hand expectantly. When you don’t move, he wiggles his fingers a little, a silent gesture telling you to hurry it up. Without thinking, you reach into your bag and unlock your phone before handing it to him.

“Kind of sucks that cell service isn’t working right now,” he remarks as he types something into your phone before handing it back. “But! Here's my number.”

You look down at your phone and, sure enough, Satoru Gojo has added himself as one of your contacts. He’s even added a little star to the end of his name. That’s… a little unexpected. Why his number though?

“Are you… hitting on me?” you mutter in your confusion.

He laughs, “Well, you said you had something really important to talk to me about, right? So just give me a call when you get home or some time tomorrow and we can talk then!”

You’re not going to make it home, or even to tomorrow, and neither will Satoru Gojo. As you start to tell him this, he steps past you. Desperate, you try to grab him, but somehow, for some reason, you can’t. You remember he did this with Jogo and the other monster, made himself untouchable.

This is not good.

He gives you a little wave, cheery as he says, “I’ll talk to you later!”

You watch, helpless as he hops over the barricade beyond your reach.

Gripping your phone tightly, you take a deep breath. It's fine, it's not like you didn’t expect things to go well anyway.

You'll just have to try again.

Every time you’ve tried to solicit help from Satoru Gojo, it has gone the same way. He just won’t give you the time of day, and in some ways you can’t blame him; he’s clearly here to deal with the monsters down on the platform. You’re fairly certain that he probably thinks that whatever is going on with you is a much lesser issue in comparison.

Plus, it probably doesn’t help that in the times that you’ve approached him, you haven’t been able to articulate yourself particularly well. Once you start talking to him, you just get hit with something akin to stage fright and the connection between your mind and your mouth just stops working. It’s gotten better with each attempt, but…

It’s just so frustrating.

It is interesting that Gojo has given you his number every time, star symbol and all. You’re not sure what kind of person you were expecting him to be, but after witnessing him literally and viciously rip monsters apart, you’d figured he’d be a little more somber. However, in the fragmented conversations you’ve had with him he’s come off as far more friendly and playful than you would have thought. Is he the type of person to get more serious when the situation calls for it? You can’t help but wonder, but ultimately, it doesn’t really matter.

What really matters is that you’re able to convince him to help you.

You have to convince him.

“Excuse me!” you say, stepping in Satoru Gojo’s path. You don’t stutter this time, and your voice is more sure. This is good.

“Yes?”

His head turns in your direction and you gulp. Gojo’s gaze, despite that blindfold of his, still feels just as overwhelming as it did the very first time you approached him. You have no doubt that he’s sizing you up, but there’s just something about it that makes you feel like you’re being picked apart.

You take a deep breath and step closer to him, hoping your voice sounds firm enough as you say, “I need your help. I’m trapped.”

He chuckles a little, “I know, but yours truly is on his way to go beat up the bad guys keeping you all trapped here, so soon enough you’ll be all free to go on your merry little way.”

Right. You were so caught up in your own plight that you nearly forgot that technically you’re not the only one ‘trapped.’ Satoru Gojo obviously knows that everyone else is confined to this station, but you doubt he knows that you’re confined to this night alone.

“That’s not what I mean!” you sputter.

“Then what do you mean?” Gojo asks. Should you tell him that you mean that you’re trapped in a time loop? You’re honestly not sure— in the movies and manga you’ve read about time travel, revealing that sort of thing risks creating a time paradox which seems to be a bad thing. If you have to tell him, you will, but— “Oh, I get it.”

You stare, bewildered. Did you maybe just spew all of that aloud?

Gojo gives you a mischievous smile. “You’re hitting on me, aren’t you?”

“No!” The word comes flying out of your mouth. You can’t deny he’s attractive— you’ve thought it all this time, but that is not what’s happening here.

“No need to be embarrassed,” he continues, ignoring you. “I totally get it, so if you want, I’d be happy to give you my number!”

Again? You’ve received Satoru Gojo’s contact details in every loop you’ve talked to him, star symbol and all— you even have his number memorized. There’s something kind of odd about how he keeps giving you his number. Part of you wonders if he’s got some sort of ulterior motive, but you haven’t thought too deeply about it. There are way more important things going on.

“I don’t need your phone number,” you say. “I need to talk.”

Your response seems to give Gojo pause. Did you somehow manage to get through to him? No way. Your suspicions are all but confirmed when he gives you that familiar apologetic smile.

“Like, I said, I’m sort of in the middle of something, but…” Gojo reaches into his pockets and rummages around until one hand fishes out a folded up piece of paper. The other hand keeps digging around in his pocket and when Gojo seems to give up on whatever he’s looking for, he turns his attention back to you. “Got a pen?”

What?

Gojo tilts his head. “Well?”

“I do, but…” You trail off, unsure why he’s asking.

He holds out his hand waiting for you to just hand him the pen. You still don’t get it, but you reach into your bag’s front pocket and pull out the pen and hand it to him. Gojo looks almost like an excited child when he takes it from you, quickly scribbling something onto his paper before shoving it and your pen back into your hand.

You look at the paper; it looks like a receipt. For a disturbing amount of mochi that Gojo bought earlier today. The amount of money he spent is almost sickening; way too much to be paying for mochi. More importantly, you notice something juxtaposed over the receipt’s print.

It’s Satoru Gojo’s name and number.

He even drew a little star next to his name.

“If you change your mind later, just give me a call!” he tells you cheerily. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while!”

You gawk at him. He cannot be serious. You literally just told him that you didn’t need it and yet he still gave it to you. He must want you to contact him later, but you can’t even begin to understand why. It can’t have been something you said or did, right? Unless, he’s actually—

“Later!” Gojo’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you notice him walking off with a wave.

You can’t let him get away.

Again.

You crush the receipt in your hand and rush after him. Despite the crowd, Gojo seems to move through the people with ease and it almost seems like they are yielding to him naturally. It’s good for you. Makes him easier to chase.

“Wait!” you yell, but Gojo doesn’t even look back. Bastard. Your muscles strain as you try to run faster. You know you won’t be able to grab him if you get to him, but there has to still be something you can do to stop him. Circle around him? Cut him off before he—

Satoru Gojo reaches the barricade.

“Wait!” you yell again. “Satoru Gojo, wait!”

He does not even acknowledge you.

You’re almost there though. Almost. If you reach out your hand, then maybe, maybe you can grab him. Something in your head tells you that it’s useless; you’ve never been able to touch him. But, you don’t care, you don’t care because you have to try. You stretch out your hand, desperate and hoping, but just as you do, Gojo effortlessly jumps over the barricade, moving to survey the crowd.

Due to your momentum, you almost collide into the barricade, but you manage to stop yourself. You stare at Satoru Gojo through the glass. He watches the crowd for at most three minutes. Is this just another bust? Is there really nothing you can do? There must be a way you can get his attention. Is it possible to climb over the barricade? No, it’s too high. There’s nothing you can grasp onto or use as footing either.

This fucking sucks.

Another minute or two and Gojo will be on the move again, and there will be no way you can follow, no way you can get his attention. You press your hands against the glass, pushing against it. Naturally, it doesn’t budge. Why would it? If only you could get it out of the way. If only you could break it. This stupid barricade is the only thing between you and Satoru Gojo and there’s no way you can climb it, but if only you could break it.

If only you could fucking break it.

Suddenly, the glass feels warm. Satoru Gojo’s image starts to look a little distorted as the warmth beneath your fingers grows. Something is happening. The glass starts to vibrate and shake. Violently. The tremors grow stronger and stronger. You should stop. You should back away.

You don’t.

The barricade starts to crack and fracture and soon the sound of shattering glass resounds throughout the entire room. Everyone starts screaming. No one knows what’s going on— not even you. But you don’t care. It’s gone. The barricade is gone.

You take a step forward, toward Satoru Gojo. He’s on a beam that’s about a two meter drop from where you’re standing. That’s fine. That’s okay. You can make it. You have to. Without a second thought, you jump—

And you land on the beam. You look up and Satoru Gojo’s attention is back on you. He’s finally, finally turned toward you, face twisted into an expression you can’t decipher or even comprehend, but—

Something’s wrong; your world is turning on its axis, but—

Satoru Gojo is looking at you, and—

Up is very quickly becoming down, and—

Satoru Gojo is coming closer, but—

You’re slipping—

But he’s right there, and—

You’re falling, but—

He’s trying to catch you, but—

It’s too late. It’s too late.

The last thing you think you feel—

—is Satoru Gojo’s arms around you.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you are causing a commotion.

“Shit! Fuck!” you curse loudly. The people near you start to shift away but you barely notice; you don’t really care.

You were so close, so fucking close and yet… yet here you are again. It’s quarter past eight and you are back on the goddamn platform. You don’t know what happened; you remember falling and thinking you were going to die, but you are absolutely certain that, once again, this time, you didn’t die.

Is Satoru Gojo at fault again? Did he do something? Like he did all those other times you looped without dying? When you think about it more, you don’t think so. You don’t know what happened; all you know is that you tried to get to him, but you slipped.

And he caught you, you definitely remember that.

You still don’t understand why you looped, but there’s not much you can do about it now; it’s not like you can go back anymore. It just sucks, because you think he might have actually listened if you’d talked to him.

Or he would have come after you for… whatever happened with the barricade. It could have been taken as an attack on the crowd… But if he thought you were doing that, then why would he catch you?

You don’t know.

All you know is that you have to try again.

The only problem is that you don’t know how you managed to shatter the barricade. You think about it as you make your way up to where you’ll find Satoru Gojo. There is the possibility that it wasn’t you and something else happened to it instead, but that feels way too coincidental. It had to be you. That’s the only thing that makes sense. You just can’t figure out how you did it outside of wanting, wishing, praying for the barricade to break. It’s not like you have supernatural powers like Satoru Gojo and his enemies.

Despite your mind being completely and wholly occupied by trying to figure out how in the world you managed to break through that barricade, you still manage to make it to the second basement floor of Shibuya Hikarie by 8:25PM— a brand new record. Satoru Gojo doesn’t show up until around 8:34PM, so that gives you almost ten minutes to try and figure out what you need to do to try and replicate shattering the glass barricade again.

Except—

Except Satoru Gojo is already here.

The thought that maybe you’re mistaken flashes in your mind before it’s quickly dismissed; there’s no way you’d mistake anyone else for him. There is absolutely no denying it: that is Satoru Gojo. Bewildered, you double check the time on your phone. Maybe you misread it and you’re actually late but sure enough you read it right— Satoru Gojo is here early.

What the hell is going on?

Of the thousands of times you have experienced this night, this hell, this sort of thing has never happened before. Everything happens at a specific time, as if adhering to an unseen schedule. It’s likely that what happened in your last iteration did delay Satoru Gojo’s arrival onto the platform, but other than that there has never been a deviation to the time table.

And yet, here Satoru Gojo is, nine minutes early now.

You realize that that’s not the only thing that’s strange: he’s not moving. In previous rounds, when you encounter Gojo here, he’s walking to the lookout spot beyond the barricade. But, right now, he’s just standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. It almost looks like he's waiting for something.

Or someone.

This unexpected turn of events has you rooted to the spot. You’re not sure what you should do. No. This shouldn’t change anything. You need to talk to him. As concerning as a change like this is, the extra time it gives you should be a good thing. Despite knowing that, your feet are still firmly planted to the ground.

The crowd shifts and you see Satoru Gojo start to move. Toward the barricade? No. He’s not heading in his usual direction, rather he’s—

You stop breathing.

He’s headed toward you.

All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is absolutely mind numbing.

He comes to a stop before you, lips curled up to form an amused sort of smile as he says, “Soooo, you needed to talk to me?”

You try to answer but no words come out of your mouth. Are you dreaming? You have to be, right? There's no way that this is actually happening. Could it be that, after thousands of loops, you’ve finally lost it? Your mind shattering along with the glass of the barricade at the end of the last one?

Gojo tilts his head, indicating that he's still waiting for an answer. When you open your mouth, at first, nothing comes out, the words stuck in your throat. You force them out, your voice cracking, “...how did you know?”

He smiles, looking almost mischievous as he reaches up and lightly taps the side of his head. “I remembered, of course!”

All you can do is stare at Satoru Gojo. He remembered? How is that possible? From his perspective, this is the first time you’ve met and while it shouldn’t be possible for him to remember there’s something in your mind that’s keeping you from completely dismissing the possibility.

Gojo laughs, “I take it from the look on your face that you’re not used to this sort of thing happening. Is this the first time?”

“No.” The fact that the word is out of your mouth before you can even really think about it surprises you and you really have to think. Your face scrunches together as you try to remember. Is this really not the first time? Then, the memories assault you, overlapping as they replay simultaneously in your head— a woman in a yellow and white magical girl costume— begging you for help as she burns to death— smiling as she tells you she made her costume herself. “...it happened just once a long time ago.”

“‘A long time ago,’ huh. Sounds like you've been at this for a while now.”

“...unfortunately.”

Gojo hums. “So when you said you didn’t need my phone number…”

“You’d already given it to me a few times,” you say, figuring that’s where this conversation is going.

“Really now?”

Does he not believe you? Or is he just being an ass? You’re not sure, but since you had taken the liberty of memorizing Satoru Gojo’s phone number you recite it back to him to prove your point.

Just when you think you may have stunned Gojo into silence he starts to laugh, obviously finding something funny about the fact that you know his cell phone number. “Seems like you've got quite the fascinating technique there.”

Technique? What is he talking about? Your confusion must be plain on your face because he adds, elaborating, “The time travel.”

You continue to stare at him. You don't think you'd consider what you've been going through time travel, because traveling implies moving from point A to point B, but you've been stuck walking in circles at point A for a long time. What really gets you is… “What do you mean by ‘technique?’”

“You mean you don’t— oh. I get it; no wonder you’re trapped.”

That does not answer your question in the slightest. “Can you please explain what you're talking about? What do you mean by ‘technique?’”

“Right, right… So basically, a technique is like a special sort of power,” he finally explains. “Like I said, your technique seems to be a kind of time travel. Whenever you activate it, your mind is sent back in time.”

What he's saying makes sense, but… “How come you were sent back too?”

He laughs again. “Isn't it obvious? Think back to before— do you remember that I caught you as you were falling?”

You nod slowly. The memory of his arms around you is almost embarrassingly vivid. “...is it because we were touching?”

“Ding, ding, ding! That's correct! Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!”

Something about his tone annoys you, but you try to ignore it. He could have just told you rather than make you guess. “How do you know that for sure?”

“Well,” he continues. “You’ve done your little time loop a bunch of times, right? If your technique affected everyone, or even a few people in a select range you would have noticed for sure. And if it affected only just you then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, now would we?”

When you think about it, you do think that the woman in the magical girl costume might have bumped into you before the loop where she remembered.

“That’s honestly just conjecture, but I've got pretty good eyes, so I’m hardly ever wrong.”

Gojo gives you a grin and while you do think that his reasoning is sound enough his confidence is a little grating. More than that, though, you’re glad that this conversation is actually going really well.

“Either way,” he says thoughtfully. “It doesn’t look like you can control your technique. Usually a person’s technique manifests when they’re a kid, but you seem to be a special case… in fact, I bet your technique activated for the very first time tonight— probably under some pretty extreme circumstances, too.”

“...dying counts as an ‘extreme circumstance,’ right?”

“Oh, absolutely. Or legitimately thinking that you’re gonna die, but it seems like your body has been unconsciously activating your technique as a sort of defense mechanism. Which is why you’re trapped.”

“So, if I could control it I’d be able to make it out of this time loop.”

“Yeah, but in this case it probably wouldn’t end very well for you,” he points out with a chuckle. “It’s not like you actually want to die, right? I mean, if you did, then your technique wouldn’t even activate in the first place.”

You don’t; what you want is for this night to finally end. To be free from the endless cycle of dying over and over again and again. You don’t think death is quite the answer; even if you were to learn how to control this supposed technique of yours, there’s no guarantee that you would just unconsciously activate it when the grim reaper comes knocking on your door. No, the answer is…

“Anyway!” Gojo’s cheery voice cuts through your thoughts. “I highly doubt that you’re the type that makes a habit of jumping off ledges for the funsies, so the fact that you’ve been dying tells me that some pretty gruesome stuff is about to go down, so, tell me what happens tonight.”

The sudden drop of his voice sends a shiver running down your spine. If it weren’t for the fact that you’ve seen how serious Gojo can get, the sudden shift in demeanor would probably freak you out a bit, but it doesn’t. This is the Satoru Gojo you’re familiar with.

You do have one concern though. “That… won’t create a time paradox or anything, will it?”

“Nah,” Gojo shrugs. “You wouldn’t cause one with the way your technique works, besides, if you’ve only been going back at most an hour or two in time it’s hard to believe you’d be making a really big impact… unless you really believe in the butterfly effect.”

You’re still not quite sure.

“Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

His voice sounds strange. Gentle. Kind. It's the most soothing thing you've heard in a long time and it makes you want to believe him.

“...okay.”

Anxiety is still gripping at you, but you try to dispel it, taking a deep breath before beginning your explanation. For the sake of brevity, it’s probably best that you’re as concise as possible. There isn’t much need to really get into the nitty gritty of things unless he asks specifically.

Naturally, you begin with his arrival onto the platform and how soon after a fight breaks out and how the crowd is unfortunate enough to be involved. Gojo’s expression is passive for the most part, but he does crack the faintest hint of a smile when you mention how he manages to eviscerate one of the monsters.

It disappears once you tell him about the arrival of the train. Between the dozens upon dozens of people being dropped onto the platform by those two high school girls and the hoard of monsters disembarking from the train, everything devolves into pandemonium.

“Wait,” Gojo holds a hand up and you pause. This is his first interruption since you started recounting the night’s events for him. “Everyone is able to see the monsters?”

You stare at him. What a weird question. “...yeah?”

His mouth twists and it looks like he’s thinking about something. You can’t even begin to imagine what. Finally, he comments, “Makes sense.”

It does not, but you don’t ask him to elaborate. Surely if it was important he would have just done so.

“Anyway, in the middle of all that, you… you do something.” Your brows bunch together as you remember the stance Gojo took, the crazed and desperate look in his eyes, the feeling of your head about to explode. “I don’t know how to describe it. At first, it would just force me to… activate my technique, I guess. But now, it just knocks me out for a few minutes.”

Gojo frowns and he rubs at his chin, obviously thinking about what you’ve said. Eventually, he raises a hand and bends his fingers into a familiar gesture. It’s the one that preludes whatever he does on the platform. “Do I do this?”

“Yeah.”

He hums. “Interesting.”

You wait to see if he’ll explain. He doesn’t. Great. Even if he doesn’t think you need to know, it certainly would be nice to. It’s annoying otherwise, but you ignore the feeling and continue. “I can’t tell you what happens when I’m knocked out, but when I come to everyone is basically a zombie and all the monsters from the train are gone. I think you kill them.”

“I probably do,” he says casually. “But what about Volcano Head?”

“...you don't…get a chance to kill him,” you say slowly. Gojo tilts his head, waiting for you to elaborate, but you hesitate. You have to tell him, you know you do, but…

You have seen the interaction so many times and though you don't know the exact nature of the relationship between them, you can tell that seeing Suguru Geto (or rather seeing his body) shook Satoru Gojo to his very core.

There's no doubt in your mind that he will not take this news well.

“Come on now,” Gojo's tone is light-hearted, unaware. “Don't keep me in suspense here.”

It's as if you're withholding the punchline to a joke. In a way, you suppose you are, but you don't think he's going to find it funny.

You take a deep breath. You need to tell him. The worst thing that could happen is that he doesn't believe you, but if that's the case… you'll probably just end up repeating this all again until you find a loop where he does.

Having made it this far, you'd like to avoid all that.

“Before you can get Volcano Head you get restrained by something called the prison realm,” you say slowly, “by someone calling themselves… Suguru Geto.”

The second the name leaves your mouth, there is a clear and obvious shift in the air. Gone is Gojo’s laid-back and frivolous demeanor, replaced with something more somber and almost frightening. The tension grows more and more palpable to the point that you think it might almost choke you.

You almost wish that it would.

“You can’t be serious,” Gojo finally says, once your words have fully sunk in.

“I—” You start to speak, but come to an abrupt stop when you see him shove his hand into his pocket to yank out his phone of all things.

The both of you know full well that there’s no reception here, but you don’t think that he’s planning on making any calls. Gojo scrolls and scrolls on his phone before he stops and shoves the screen in your face. It shows a picture of three people— a teenage girl with a cigarette in her mouth, a younger, happier version of Gojo sporting a pair of round sunglasses and—

“When you say ‘Geto’ is this who you’re referring to?” Gojo demands, using his other hand to point at the third person in the frame— a handsome young man with long dark hair pulled up into a bun.

“Yes, but—”

“That’s impossible. It can’t be him,” Gojo interrupts, his voice firm, cold even. “He’s dead.”

There’s a note of finality in his words that is definitely meant to leave no room for argument. It doesn’t stop you, though. Instead, you glare at Gojo’s stupid blindfold and say, “...being dead doesn’t mean a damn thing! I’ve died hundreds of times and yet I’m still fucking here, but—”

“Your situation is different,” he interjects, the temperature of his tone hiking up, his words like heated hissing. “I killed him almost a year ago. There's no way—”

“You didn't get rid of the body properly!” You cut him off, raising your voice in hopes that he'll take even just a second to stop and listen. It seems to work and you add something you remember ‘Geto’ saying. “You should have had Shoko Ieiri get rid of it, but you didn’t and now some… some kind of gross brain thing is possessing the corpse!”

The air between you both is silent as the grave. Though you can't see it, you can feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. He’s definitely having second thoughts about everything you’ve said so far. There’s a chance he might even think you’re his enemy now. You stare him down though, refusing to look away. You’ve made it this far, you can’t— you won’t back down.

“...you’re not lying, are you.” Gojo’s words are more of a statement than a question. There’s no doubt in your mind that he knows the answer, and yet he’s still asking. You wonder if maybe he’s clinging onto some vain hope that maybe, just maybe this all a sick, cruel joke that’s gone way too far.

“I’m not.”

Gojo holds your gaze for a second longer before he lets out a curse. “Fuck!”

“...I’m sorry,” you say quietly, mostly because it feels like the most correct thing to say at this moment. You don’t know the whole story, but it seems like they were close. If so, then it must have hurt Gojo a lot to have killed him, and must hurt even more to know that someone is desecrating the body. You hate that you, a complete and utter stranger, happened to be the person to tell him, but…

It had to be done, for the sake of getting past this unending night, it had to be done.

Gojo runs a hand through his hair and lets out a ragged sigh. “Okay. What happens after that?”

You give him a rundown of what follows; he gets sealed, the monsters wake up and all but ‘Geto’ leave in search of their next target. When you mention the high school girls demanding the brain give Geto’s body back, Gojo snorts loudly.

“Fat chance of that,” he says derisively.

You nod in agreement. It was clear to you that the brain parasite has no intent on giving it up any time soon. “After they leave, he… talks to me.”

“Probably couldn't ignore all that cursed energy you have,” Gojo remarks offhandedly.

You stare at him, expression twisted in a way that shows that you have absolutely no clue what that means. It should be fine for you to ask this one question; it actually concerns you after all. “What does that even mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, though… probably doesn't make much sense to you, does it?”

You give him a pointed glare and all Gojo does is laugh.

“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”

“...Like in a video game?”

“Exactly!” Then, Gojo tilts his head, clearly thinking. You don't bother asking; you don't feel like he'll explain.

“He does ask me if I'm a sorcerer, whatever that is. Is that why?”

“Probably. Ordinary people don't have even a fraction of the energy you're packing.”

‘Ordinary people’ he says as if you’re not an ordinary person who got caught up in all this supernatural sorcery bullshit. Or at least you were, but if the time loops are really a product of your own doing…

“Does he kill you when you answer?” Gojo asks to get the conversation back on track.

“Not right away. What happens next kind of varies,” you answer. “He usually lets me have a question or two before he kills me; I've asked him a couple different things.”

“Really taking advantage, aren’t you?” Gojo says and you're not sure what to make of his tone. Is he mocking you or is he easing back into that laid-back persona of his?

“If I’m doomed to repeat the same situation over and over, I might as well make the most of it,” you respond flatly.

“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.”

He’s definitely gone back to acting almost completely unserious— all signs of his earlier agitation are nearly gone.

“So what did you learn?”

“Well, the prison realm only holds one occupant. Once they’re sealed, time stops for them and the only way out is if the bearer unseals them or if they choose to kill themselves.”

“I see… And what about our body jacker?”

“He didn’t go into detail but he said something about… striving toward the evolution of mankind?” You frown a little at the memory. He didn’t explain further because he said that you wouldn’t understand.

“Huh. Interesting. Wonder how he was gonna go about doing that.”

“I don't know, but I can't imagine you'd like it since he goes out of his way to seal you into that box,” you say. “Said you’d get in the way because you’re too strong.”

Gojo shrugs his shoulders and grins a little. Cocky. “Well, I am the strongest sorcerer around, you know.”

You would think him overconfident if you hadn't seen the magnitude of his strength first hand.

“Anyway, that's as far as I ever go. When he's decided he’s done talking to me, he kills me and I loop back.”

“So, in short, what you want help with is getting past that point, right?”

“More or less.”

“And all I have to do is avoid getting caught by the prison realm?”

You nod.

“What’s it look like?” he asks. “A big cage with a bunch of metal bars?”

Now that you think about it, you haven’t woken up early enough to see it before it traps him, but you can’t imagine it looks that much different. “No.. It’s a small box with eyes… It gets big enough to fit you in it, though.”

“Huh.” He stretches his arms out above his head as if he’s trying to emphasize how large he actually is and shoots you a grin. “Should be easy enough then. I bet our body snatcher used the shock of seeing Suguru to trap me but since I'll see it coming, avoiding it'll be a piece of cake.”

Gojo makes it sound so easy, and maybe it really is as simple as that, but you can't help but be worried still.

“Don't tell me you don't think I can do it,” he says, tilting his head.

“It's not that,” you admit. “I'm just concerned I might die before we can get to that point.”

Truthfully, since you know that will just result in another loop you're less concerned with dying itself and more worried about losing the progress you've made in convincing Gojo to help you. Even though it's been clearly proven you can loop him as well, there's no guarantee you'll be able to make the physical contact needed to do it upon death.

“You've made it pretty far on your own, though, right?”

“Yeah, but… I’ve messed up plenty of times.” More than you can even count. “There's also the possibility that taking the time to talk to you might have thrown things out of whack.”

Speaking of time, you check your phone. It's 8:39PM. You curse.

Gojo leans over to check your phone. “Let me guess, I'm supposed to be somewhere right now.”

“Yeah, this is when you’re descending down onto the platform.”

“You know where I am down to the exact minute?” He asks and you tilt your head back and forth a little. It’s not exact per se, but it’s close enough. Gojo chuckles a little. “Man, I didn’t realize that you were actually that into me.”

That earns Gojo a glare from you, but he just laughs it off. “I doubt being a few minutes late is going to make a big difference.”

You certainly hope so.

“Don't worry,” Gojo says and you notice he's using that tone from earlier. “You won't die.”

It’s hard to argue with him when he uses such a reassuring sounding voice and yet, you still open your mouth to try— to voice your doubts, but what he says next silences you before you even can.

“I'll protect you.”

You think your heart stops beating in your chest and your words dissolve in your throat.

He grins at you. “Did you fall in love with me just now?”

That catches you a little off guard. You're willing to admit he's hot, but surely he must be joking. “How could you even think of something like that at a time like this?”

Gojo laughs again. “Well, since someone is so worried about their time table being all messed up, I better head down there; can’t keep Volcano Head and friends waiting, right?”

You blink. Is that it? “Wait, shouldn’t we make a plan or something?”

“Isn’t the plan for me to not get caught in the prison realm?”

Yes, but… “But what about me? Is there anything I can do?”

Gojo stares at you, or at least you think he does. “...I don’t know, is there?”

You’ve seen the encounter between Satoru Gojo and those monsters so many times and you try to picture a version of it where you intervene and… all you can see is yourself getting in his way. You’re no fighter, no… sorcerer, or whatever he is, you’re just some ordinary person that was unfortunate enough to get all caught up in this mess. The most you can probably do is kick the prison realm out of the way when the time comes, but otherwise… “...no, I guess not.”

His expression turns sympathetic. “You’ve done plenty by telling me everything that happens. So just wait up here, and let me handle the monsters.”

You almost nod. Almost. But then you remember what transpires up here above the platform. You know it sounds safer up here where you’re less likely to get involved in the carnage, but… “Wait, no, if I stay up here then I’ll fall to my death when those girls—”

Gojo laughs, interrupting you. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll be fine.”

“How?”

“Just trust me.”

“I…” It’s hard to. After everything you’ve gone through it’s hard to trust in anything, to believe in anything. Even though you’ve made it this far this time, the worry that something will go wrong and that you’ll have to do it all again still lurks in the back of your mind.

Despite all that, you want to believe.

You want to believe that you can make it past this unending night, that one day you’ll wake up and it’ll no longer be October 31, 2018. And the first step towards that is trusting in Satoru Gojo.

“...okay,” you say quietly. “Okay.”

Gojo chuckles then asks, “Anything else before I head off?”

You start to ask if there’s anything you should say, in case things don’t work out, but you stop yourself. You’re choosing to trust him, to believe in him— you can figure out that stuff later if things end up going south after all. So, instead you give him a smile and it feels a little weird because you don’t remember the last time you did. “Good luck!”

For a split second, Gojo looks almost surprised, but then he laughs again, beaming widely at you. He starts to move past you and reaches out to give you what you think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder and then he’s off. You turn to watch him go, the crowd, once again, parting almost naturally for him.

When he reaches the barricade, he pauses, raising his hand as if he’s giving you one last wave. Then he jumps over it onto his little perch and then less than a minute later he’s gone, descending to the platform below.

Now, all you can do is wait.

You check your phone again and it’s 8:44PM. If you remember correctly, the high school girls start threatening everyone right before 9PM. With Gojo’s arrival being shifted back almost five minutes, does that mean that they’ll be shifted back too? It would make sense, but you’re not too sure.

Out of habit, you keep checking your phone and at nearly 9PM, you hear the shrill voice of one of the girls over the crowd, commanding everyone to do what she says, her partner stringing up bodies until everyone listens. Everything plays out just as you remember it, which is mildly comforting, though you know that the events that happen up here are more or less independent from what happens below.

Surely, just as Gojo said, a few minutes aren’t going to change anything, but—

No.

You agreed to trust him. To trust that everything would be fine.

When the girls start to demand that as many people as possible climb onto the roots and vines covering the atrium your heart starts to hammer in your chest. In just a few minutes, all the foliage will disintegrate beneath you, and you and everyone else here will fall into the abyss below.

You are afraid.

There isn’t a single loop where you’ve really survived this fall. If you don’t die in midair, you die right after landing. It’s a death trap, and that’s why you’ve stopped coming up here. There’s a part of you, the part that knows what’s about to happen, that wants to try and run back onto stable footing. But you can’t, because you know if you do then the girls will kill you for sure; you have to stay.

It’ll be fine, you tell yourself, it’ll be okay.

You just have to trust Gojo.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

You hear the announcement faintly below you. It’s almost time. You brace yourself and try to stay calm. Gojo said he would protect you, that you wouldn’t die. You don’t know how he intends to keep that promise, but all you can do is believe in his words.

It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.

The vines and roots start to crack and the ground beneath you starts to give out. You squeeze your eyes shut as that sickening weightless feeling overtakes you. It occurs to you that this is actually quite literally a trust fall— will Satoru Gojo really be able to catch you?

As you fall, you realize almost instantly that something is different.

You’ve experienced this fall dozens of times and so, even though it has been a while since you’ve gone this route, you are very familiar with what it feels like. Something is different. You’re falling faster. The trajectory is changing. It’s like some force, other than gravity, is pulling at you.

Is this Gojo’s doing?

Just as your body collides with the ground you hear the sounds of mutilating flesh meld with the screams surrounding you. Blood and severed limbs litter the ground, but you try to ignore it. You need to focus on your own survival right now. Quickly, you scramble to your feet scan the area around you; you’re on the platform right now and right in front of you is—

Right in front of you is Satoru Gojo.

His back is turned to you, his focus currently elsewhere. Looking at him you realize you recognize this scene, though it’s much closer and at a different angle. He’s about to do that thing, that thing that knocks you out.

Something in you tells you to move closer to him, after all, he used his mysterious powers to deliberately bring you closer to him, right? You rush toward him and as you do something he said earlier pops up in your mind.

Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!

Whatever he’s about to do… Is that his ‘technique?’ And if it is, would it work the same way as yours? If so, there’s only one way to find out: you need to touch him. You dodge monsters and other people as you run toward Satoru Gojo and—

A monster still manages to grab you, its large hands wrapping around your wrist. You try and yank it free, but it's much stronger than you are.

“Shit!” you hiss as the monster starts to pull you toward it and away from Gojo. What do you do? Your other hand is still free, should you try to punch it in the face? Or—

Before you can do anything, something blasts the monster’s head clean off. Shocked, you stare as the monster’s body slumps onto the ground, its grip loosening on you instantly. You whip your head around to find that while Gojo still has his back to you, his arm is bent back in your direction, his palm open as if he fired some invisible blast from it.

Then you feel it again, something pulling at you, but this time it's more forceful. Your body is yanked toward Gojo and the second you feel his hand press against you, you see him make that gesture with his other hand.

“Domain Expansion,” he whispers in a strained voice. “Infinite Void!”

Something happens and your vision flashes for a fraction of a second. And then—

The room is enveloped in an eerie stillness; all the violence and bloodshed coming to an abrupt stop. Monsters and humans alike stand like the living dead, unconscious with their eyes wide open as if they are staring into an infinite abyss. You recognize this scene, you’re familiar with it because it’s similar to the one you wake up to after being hit by Gojo’s ‘domain expansion.’ The only difference is the presence of the monsters, who are all but gone when you regain consciousness.

The pressure from Gojo’s hand is gone and he says to you, his voice still low. “If you’re squeamish when it comes to blood and gore, it might be best for you to close your eyes.”

And then he’s gone.

You do not take his advice. You do not close your eyes. How many loops were you unable to witness what’s about to unfold? A few hundred? A few thousand? And if all goes to plan, then you will never get another chance again: there’s no way you could possibly look away.

And what you see unfold before you is that Satoru Gojo was right.

He is the one to kill all the monsters.

It’s not as if you really had any doubt, after all, it seemed like the most logical conclusion to come to and yet…

There’s a difference between knowing and seeing.

All the violence resumes and the platform is engulfed in the sounds of carnage and slaughter once more. The lack of terrified screams makes everything more disconcerting— without them, all you can hear is the squelching echo of mangled flesh and blood splattering all over the place. You can’t really see him, but you can tell where Satoru Gojo is in the crowd as he leaves dozens upon dozens of decapitated heads soaring in his wake. Once or twice, he leaps out of the crowd and even from where you stand you can see the crazed glow of his inhumanly blue eyes as he massacres monster after monster.

Even though you don’t think you have anything to be scared of, you are still terrified: Satoru Gojo is no longer a man, but violence incarnate. You want to move closer to where Gojo gets trapped, but you’re afraid to. What if you get in his way? What if he kills you by accident?

Dying again when you’ve made it this far is definitely not ideal, but isn’t being killed by Gojo the best case scenario? Because then the two of you would probably loop together again and—

No.

Gojo said you wouldn’t die.

He said he’d protect you.

It’s hard to believe when he’s in the middle of a massacre, slaughtering monsters left and right, but you remind yourself yet again that you have to believe in him.

You take a deep breath and start moving, taking care to keep an eye on where Gojo is. You don’t know how long this is supposed to take, but you do know where he ends up when he’s just about done. The closer he gets to that spot, the sooner the prison realm will be unleashed upon him.

There’s a small group of zombified people nearby and you settle yourself among them. It’s not super close, but you think it's close enough that you'd be able to run over and kick the box away from Gojo if you have to. You do a quick survey to see if you can spot the body snatcher, but he's nowhere to be found. Hopefully, he hasn't noticed you moving around, or, if he has, he's more concerned with Gojo than he is with you. Given that you always seem to be the last thing he acknowledges, you'd like to think that he doesn't consider you a threat.

Which you're not, not really anyway.

The sounds of slaughter start to die down and you look to see Gojo approaching the spot where he gets caught. He looks beat, his eyes unfocused and his breathing heavy. You do another quick scan around him and notice a small box a few meters away from him, wrapped in what looks like paper charms or seals or whatever they're called. That has to be the prison realm— though it looks different than what you saw before. Gojo seems to notice it right after you do, his gaze honing in on it, examining it with some measure of bewilderment. Then, some invisible force slices through all the paper seals covering the box and it expands, the corners of the box floating up in midair to reveal what looks like a large sheet of dark red flesh with a large bloodshot eye stapled to the middle.

Disgusting.

If Gojo didn’t realize before, he seems to now, because he takes a step back, away from the grotesque thing. Good, good—

“Hey! Satoru!” Your blood runs cold at the sound of the body snatcher’s voice. He emerges from the crowd, smiling widely as he gives Gojo a wave. “Long time no see!”

Satoru Gojo’s entire body goes rigid. Shit. You told him, you warned him about what was going to happen, who he was going to see, but was that not enough? It’s possible that no amount of warning would have been enough to mentally prepare Satoru Gojo for the sight of the man he said he killed a year ago. After all, you know that there’s a stark difference between knowing and seeing. Even then, if Gojo doesn’t gather his wits and move now then he’s going to get caught and you can’t let that happen.

Your body moves before you can even think about it.

You scramble out from your hiding spot in the crowd and throw yourself in between Satoru Gojo and the prison realm. There’s no way you can kick it away from him now, not when it’s in this form, but maybe, if you get between them you can at least keep it from capturing him.

The eye quivers erratically, as it flits from Gojo to you. Every hair on your body stands on end as it watches you, the pupil dilating and contracting uncontrollably. You can’t look away from it, your own gaze fixed to your image reflected in the black abyss of the pupil. Something in the back of your mind tells you to stop, to get away, it’s dangerous, but you keep your feet firmly planted to the ground.

A second, or maybe even a minute passes and the prison realm shifts, its fleshy form morphing to restrain you.

The body jacker looks at you, his frown tinged with disgust. “Don’t you think you’re being rather rude by butting into what could have been a touching reunion?”

You scowl. Is he still trying to play the role of Suguru Geto?

He sighs and looks past you at Gojo. “Satoru, I thought bringing lesser sorcerers to fight alongside you was more trouble than it was worth?”

You hear Gojo snort from behind you, “It is… but this person here isn’t a sorcerer… Just like you aren’t Suguru Geto.”

The faker almost pouts and presses his hand to his chest as if Gojo's words have wounded him. “Satoru, I’m hurt, how could you say such a thing to your best friend?”

“Cut the bullshit,” Gojo snarls. “You can’t fucking fool me. You might be in Suguru’s body but I know with all my heart and soul that you’re not him.”

The corpse snatcher stares at Gojo, expression blank before he sighs once more. Then, his gaze shifts back to you, his eyes narrowed as he looks at you with sheer disdain. It feels as if you’ve been drenched in ice cold water. There's no smile this time but you already know what's going to happen.

He’s going to kill you.

“I intended to deal with you later since you seemed harmless enough,” he says, raising a hand to summon a monster— the same one he always uses to end your life. “But you’re in the way. So, I think it’s for the best if I just get rid of you right now.”

Instinctively, you try to take a step back but the prison realm’s restraints keep you in place. Not that it would have mattered much, even in the loops where you’ve tried to escape the faker’s monster, it still kills you, too fast and too agile for an ordinary human like you to avoid. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the monster to kill you. At least, it’s always painless.

Something touches your back.

Your eyes shoot open.

Before you is the monster, wiggling and writhing only mere centimeters from your face. It gurgles and snarls at you, desperate to fulfill its master’s wishes and kill you but it doesn’t move any closer. You stare at it with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

Someone behind you clicks their tongue— Gojo. You try to turn your head to look at him, but your movements are too limited, the most you can do is turn your head to the side. The sounds the monster is making start to change, sounding more frenzied, almost as if it’s in pain, and you flit your eyes in its direction just in time to see its entire body explode. The monster's guts and bright purple blood fly off in every direction, getting on the floor, the ceiling, the zombified bodies of the people unfortunate enough to be nearby, but not on you.

This is Satoru Gojo’s doing.

He steps in front of you, half turned towards you as he moves in between you and the body snatcher. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he loudly says, “Did you really forget about me?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the body snatcher.

Past him, the imposter scowls, raising his hand once more, probably to summon even more monsters, but Gojo’s quicker, and it almost looks like his eyes are glowing even brighter, the blue looking almost white as he whips his head in the faker’s direction. The sound of mangling flesh and breaking bones echoes throughout the room as Gojo, using that mysterious power of his, seems to break the faker’s arm.

The body snatcher hisses loudly and despite the fact that his face is twisted in very obvious pain, he tries to shoot Gojo a mocking smile. “Do you really think you can kill your best friend again?”

“I already told you,” Gojo turns to fully face the monster inhabiting Geto’s corpse. He tilts his head a little to the side and some force starts to squeeze at the faker’s neck. “You’re not Suguru.”

You hear a loud crack as Gojo telekinetically snaps his neck.

The head rolls onto the ground and you almost look away, but then you notice his eyes still moving, looking around. Is he still alive? Then you remember: the thing possessing Suguru Geto’s body was some kind of parasite. “Gojo! Wait! The brain!”

He reacts almost instantly, head turning and in an instant the skull is crushed and all that remains is red splotch on the ground.

You almost relax. Almost.

But the body is still standing.

Horrified, you watch as it quivers violently before falling to the ground. Then what looks like dozens of black spirits start to erupt from the corpse and the entire room is engulfed with a shrill howling.

What the hell is going on?

“Those must be all the cursed spirits he consumed,” Gojo explains uselessly, voice barely audible over the screaming. “Guess he was empty before.”

You don’t bother asking what he means. There are bigger problems right now. “What do we do?”

“No choice to exorcise them,” he answers plainly.

For him to exorcise them, he means. You both know that there’s not much that you can do. You still can’t move and honestly, you don’t even know if it’s possible to get out of the prison realm’s restraints. Not without dying. And if you die now…

Everything will have been for naught.

You’ll reset time and have to do this all over again— assuming you can even get to this point again.

There has to be something, you just have to think outside the box.

Or rather—

“Gojo!”

He glances back at you.

“You need to seal me in the prison realm!” you exclaim. He turns to face you fully, looking bewildered and you start to explain as fast as you can. “Those things are going to attack any minute right? I can’t move or try to hide and I can’t expect you to protect me the entire time and if I die then I’ll end up looping time again, but— but, if you seal me in the prison realm then that won’t happen.”

Gojo frowns, looking conflicted. “You don’t think I can do it?”

“Wouldn't it be easier if you didn’t have to?”

He tilts head and you think he’s conceding your point.

“Please,” you beg, staring at him desperately. “We don’t have much time. The other… cursed spirits will wake up soon too!”

You don’t have to explain that you mean Volcano Head and friends.

It takes only a second for Gojo to consider the very few options you have. “...how do you seal it? Do you know?”

“I think so,” you answer. “There’s no guarantee it’ll work but I think that if you say ‘prison realm, gate close’ it should seal me inside.”

If anything, it’s worth a shot.

Gojo nods. “Do you know how to break the seal?”

“I… don’t,” you confess. You never asked, and you don’t think the body snatcher would have told you even if you did. He only told you that it holds one and that…

That time doesn’t flow in the box.

“...you don’t have to break the seal.”

Gojo frowns, “Wait a sec—”

“Even if I make it past tonight… What if this all happens again? What if I inadvertently trap myself in another time loop?” you ask. “I… I don’t want to have to go through all of this again. It’s better for me in a place where time doesn’t pass.”

You don’t know for sure if it’ll be better, but right here, right now, it seems like the best option.

It feels like an eternity passes before Gojo says anything.

“...fine,” he agrees and you don’t quite know how to feel about it. The howling around you all grows louder. You wonder why the cursed spirits haven’t attacked yet. Maybe Gojo’s power is holding them at bay… for now anyway. You both know that he can’t ignore them forever.

“...before I do, though, mind if I ask you just one thing?”

You blink. “Not sure what I can do for you in this state…”

He laughs. “I just want to know your name.”

What an odd request. Though, now that you think about it, you don’t think that during this loop or any other loop really, you’ve ever told him your name. It only seems fair to tell him, since you’ve known his for longer than he’s known of your existence.

You tell him your name.

He nods, looking as if he’s committing to memory. Probably easier to remember than his phone number. “Any last words?”

You try to think of something. Nothing comes to mind and you just shake your head.

Gojo takes a deep breath, “Alrighty then… Prison realm, gate close.”

Just as it did the many times you’ve seen Satoru Gojo sealed away, the boxes and restraints around you vibrate a little before they start to close around you, growing large enough to fit your body as they approach.

You won’t see it, but once you’re inside the box will shrink and become small enough to fit in the palm of someone’s hand.

Will it be quiet inside?

In your final seconds, some words, some last words come to mind, and you say them, hoping that he hears them in time. “Thank you, Satoru Gojo.”

You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.

And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black.

It’s November 30, 2018— morning on the campus of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.

Satoru Gojo strides through the school grounds, casually tossing a small silver box with eerie blue eyes known as the prison realm up and down in his grasp. Walking at his side is Shoko Ieiri, a pretty woman who’s been unfortunate enough to have been Satoru’s friend since high school.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shoko asks, twirling a few strands of her long brown hair.

“What do you mean?” Satoru responds nonchalantly. “All my ideas are good ideas.”

Shoko hums in clear dissent, but doesn’t say anything more. Even she knows better than to try and waste her time trying to argue with Satoru. “I’m just worried about their mental state. Didn’t you say that time doesn’t flow in the box?”

“I’d be worried if it was some normal person,” Satoru says. “But after what they’ve gone through I think they’ll be fine.”

“...well, if you say so.”

The two arrive at their destination: the largest training area on the Jujutsu High grounds. Satoru places the prison realm at the center and takes a few steps back with Shoko standing behind him, in case anything happens.

He doesn’t think it will, but it’s always good to take at least a few precautions.

“Gojo, are you sure we should be doing this?” Shoko asks again. “Didn’t they want to remain in the box?”

“Of course I am,” Satoru says with his usual air of confidence before looking back at the prison realm nestled in the grass. He grins and then—

“Prison realm, gate open.”

if you made it this far. thank you. it's my sincerest hope that you enjoyed the ride.

[abysseung]

HEART ATTACK ! 💌 VERSION ONE

➸ SYNOPSIS It’s your last year at Sacred-Heart High and what better to start the year with a crush. Wait did I say a crush? Sorry, I meant a bunch of crushes. But hey, at least they like you too.

➸ PAIRING enha 02 line x fem!reader [schoolmate!jake x reader; frenemy!jay x reader; church boy!sunghoon x reader]

➸ GENRE smau, major major major crack, fluff, slight angst if u squint hard enough, high school au, friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates to lovers??, mutual pining

➸ WARNINGS lots and lots of swearing; sex jokes; suggestive content; mentions of alcohol consumption, kys and kms jokes, smoking, suicide, sex

THIS WORK IS PURE FICTION, ALL THE IDOLS MENTIONED IN THIS DO NOT REFLECT WITH THEIR ACTUAL LIFE AND CAREER.

➸ STATUS COMPLETED (10/28/22 - 11/13/22)

➸ AUTHORS NOTE to whoever is seeing this fanfic, u are one lucky mf. this is actually my first smau (or i guess u could say fanfic) no way. this fic is supposed to be based on my love life experience in highschool cause i want ppl to know what i went through. please note that im trying to base this in the korean school system so if there’s anything wrong, please ignore :)

☆ playlist — «i'll give you everything, take my heart»

PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE :) SPAM REBLOGS = OK! ; SPAM LIKE = BLOCK!

➸ PROFILES yn and her crush supporters bitchless losers too good boys unholy brothers extras

00 — back to school antics (prologue)

01 — jay’s deskmate??? (written + smau)

02 — yn’s kdrama life

03 — L word

04 — matching sonic pfps

05 — are u guys dating?

06 — not so first date (written + smau)

07 — heartbroken

08 — happy national boyfriend day

08 (1)— jisung and jisung bromance

08 (2) — beomgyu’s love letter

08 (3)— jiung’s discord kitten

08 (4) — chanhee gets a gf (real)

09 — mr closet man (written + smau)

10 — THE HANDS

10 (1) — arm wrestling match

10 (2) — hand slapping game

11 — wake up and break up

12 — panda keychain

13 — rip homeroom server

14 — caption (the chapter disappeared 😭)

15 — emo’s fave colour

16 — confession

17 — yn the wingwoman

18 — cousin reunion

18 (1) — fortnite buddies unite

19 — confession pt.2

20 — who do u like? (written + smau)

21 — who do i like?

22 — confession pt.3

23 — mr soulmate

24 — opposites attract (written + smau)

25 — bf material (written + smau) | alternative vers

26 — real love (written + smau)

27 — unlocked locker

28 — unlucky day

28 (1) — yunjin’s beomgyu’s yunjin’s nametag

28 (2) — kid pics

28 (3) — farewell ningning

28 (4) — jeongin is back

29 — to my lovers

CHOOSE YOUR ENDING

JAKE — JAY — SUNGHOON

31 — #jirina4life (after jay’s epilogue)

32 — THERES FOUR OTHER??? (after chapter 21)

33 — ur pfp looks like my bf (after sunghoon’s epilogue)

enhypen masterlist