#He’s my platonic celebrity crush if that makes sense

[kitteyrenlover]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KODAI SENGA‼️‼️

MY GLORIOUS GHOST FORK THROWING KING I WISH YOU THE ABSOLUTE BEST OF BIRTHDAYS

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FAKE DATE SATORU GOJO WITH REAL FEELINGS? ❞

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is the same age as gojo, set during s1 of jjk, fake dating hijinks, drunk! gojo, jealous! reader + gojo, implied satosugu (sorta, i see it more in a soulmate way, whether its platonic or romantic), switch! gojo, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, naoya makes an appearance, gojo clan elders suck, gojo's made up clan responsibilities,

✧ wc: 16,043

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 6 has been sold to @chuluoyi and an anon!

“C’mon, you don’t know until you try, sweetheart,” 

You run at your temples, you didn’t need to feel burgeoning ache of a headache forming to know it was coming — but you knew it would whenever you met with this blue eyed idiot, “Satoru, the last time you said that, you nearly got me killed,” you didn’t care to re-live him sending you on a mission meant for him to take a grade 1 one curse, only to end up fighting two other grade 2 curses along with it. 

You were lucky you made it by the skin of your teeth — and lucky that Shoko woke up when you showed up at her door, half dead. 

“And this time, there’s no risk of death,” he grins, stirring his sugary drink that counts more as sugar than a drink, “that shows great personal growth, don’t ya think?” 

“I think this conversation shows that just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean you have an ounce of common sense,” you mutter, as you sip at your drink of choice, “Gojo, I can’t marry you — for one, there would be a risk of death — yours,” 

“Eh you wouldn’t be able to kill me — you’re far too—“ and you raise an eyebrow, daring him to finish that sentence, “kind,” 

You rolled your eyes, “One of the traits you’re looking for in your future partner?” 

“The thing is, you wouldn’t have to marry me at all — it would be a big sham!” He said with a thumbs up, as if that made it any better at all, “just for a couple weeks so I can fool the Gojo Clan into complacency and to stop the search for my future spouse — you’d be sparing the hundreds, no thousands, of possible candidates from facing the burden of my rejection,” 

“And I suppose the fact that the clan would get off your back is just a fringe benefit?” You sigh, “Gojo, why don’t you just tell them you don’t want to get married?” 

“I’ve tried — but the stubborn old geezers won’t budge — I’m caught between a rock and a hard place — and you know me,” his lips curl, “I’m a lover, not a fighter,” 

Yup, you have a headache now. 

“What would we have to do to convince them we were together?” 

Why were you considering this? 

“Dates, a few public outings, meeting the geezers because they would insist, and you would need to show your face around the clan compound,” he lists off, sipping at his drink, “there may be other things, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” You may jump off a bridge by the time this is over and done with, “what do you say?” 

“I have two questions,” and he leaned back in his chair, back and forth, impatience personified, “how long would we have to do it?” You didn’t want to be stuck in this arrangement for an undisclosed amount of time, but the second question was far more important, “ And why me?” 

“Three months, maybe longer,” you gape at him, “I can pay you?” you raise an eyebrow, “I will pay you,” you sigh, “and choosing you was easy because—“ 

“If you make some sort of joke about me being single, I don’t care if you have infinity, I’ll find a way to murder you,” you grumble. 

“Because you’re a sorcerer, you’re from a minor clan — so you’re an acceptable choice, and I trust you — you’re one of my closest friends,” he adds, for once his words are deprived of any humor. 

And that answer was…almost worse than the joke. The word “friend” stuck in your side like a thorn you could never pull out, festering and growing until it had become a part of you — that ached only when you thought of it. 

Your feelings for him, they were still there? You thought you had discarded them years ago, thought it was safe for you to move back to Tokyo from Kyoto, thought you had finally left that childhood crush behind — dead and buried — but here it was, still stubbornly clinging to life. 

And now it would thrive with new roots, stems, leaves, and buds if you agreed to this. 

He said your name, “Well?” 

He remains as inscrutable as always, But you could never say no to him, could you? “Okay, fine,” it would also help you out in the form of another problem of Naoya Zenin who had been nothing but persistent since you came back…but you didn’t want to dwell on that. Your eyes find Gojo’s again — as they always did. 

It was why you had left for Kyoto in the first place. 

“Is this really necessary?” you grumbled, as the servants that served the Gojo clan fussed over your clothes — it was a traditional kimono in the colors of your clan — a deep indigo, embroidered with white koi fish that swam along the fabric, embroidered with waves. You supposed you were only grateful that Gojo didn’t leave you to get dressed yourself. 

Gojo watched as they adjusted the obi around your waist, and your eyes remained fixed ahead, but your gaze couldn’t help but wander to him. Satoru Gojo was always unfairly gorgeous — there was a reason people fawned over him even when he had just rolled out of bed without even a once over at his appearance — but those same people probably would have passed out if they saw him as he was now. 

His formal wear was a sky blue — the same as his eyes, a coat draped over his shoulders and loose trousers of snow white that was a nod to hair of the same color. His hair remained unkempt as it always was. 

“Gonna change into that but not comb your hair?” You remark, and he smirks, running a hand through his hair. 

“Well I think if I start being too well behaved, they’ll know it’s fake,” and the word sticks in your chest like a dagger between the ribs, as the servants finally finish with your clothes, and you sigh. 

You straighten yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror, “How is it only been a couple hours and I’m already exhausted?” 

“The suffocating grip of old geezers and their backwards traditions would do that to you,” but his eyes linger on you, “but lucky for you sweetheart, it seems to suit you,” 

“Do you have to call me that?” You murmur, cheeks warming, as you pretend to busy yourself with adjusting your clothes in the mirror. 

“You have to get used to it,” his footsteps draw closer, heart battering against your ribcage as he does — surely, it would break free of its bony cage by the end of this, as he slides a shiny pendant around your neck — a sliver infinity with a singular small blue gem glinting in the middle — “after all, you are mine now, aren’t you?” 

“Gojo, this is—“ 

“Satoru,” he reminds you, as his fingers brush against your neck as he clasps the necklace, “how will it look if someone overhears you calling me by my last name in private?” And your fingers brush against the necklace, toying with the pendant as you positioned it properly, “do you like it? I had it made especially,” 

Especially — the lack of ‘for you,’ stuck out to you, as you force a smile on your lips, “it’s perfect — it will definitely sell the act,” and your eyes can’t find his as he adjusts his sunglasses, “I’m surprised you’re not wearing your blindfold,” you turn to face him, “doesn’t it drain you not to wear it?” 

“I can wear sunglasses sometimes — usually I get strange looks if I wear a blindfold in normal society — and here,” he pulls off the glasses as his cerulean irises seem to pierce your very form, “it reminds these old men who holds the cards here,” it was already hard enough for you to meet Gojo’s gaze as it was, it always felt as if he could stare right through you — and now, it felt as it your entire soul was beholden to him, “and as a bonus,” he draws close again, as he holds out his hand for your own. You resist the urge to bite your lip, inside giving your hand as he wished, and he lifts to his lips, before tilting his head to press the back of his hand to your cheek, “now I can look at my beautiful girlfriend unobstructed by these pesky eye coverings,” 

You scoff, “You always have something to say, don’t you?” As you try and fail to move your hand away, “Gojo—“ 

“A good escort should never let their lady walk in without their hand being held, don’t you think?” And you sigh, as he leads you out of the frying pan and into the fire  — you only hoped you wouldn’t be burned — your eyes sliding to Gojo again, fingers toying with the fabric over your chest — in more than one way. 

“So you’ve gotten yourself a partner, eh, boy?” the elderly man sits with his eyes closed as he sips his tea, steam rolling off the surface in droves, but he seemed unbothered by the heat — perhaps because of the steam coming out of his ears, “I’m shocked,” you kept your gaze down, only had greeting him upon entering — stating your name and clan, before kneeling beside Satoru on a cushion. 

“Shocked that someone like me could ever find my match? I know I’m truly one of a kind,” lips curled in that smirk that seemed to annoy almost everyone Satoru Gojo knew — including you — but no one showed the level of irritation that this man showed. 

Gojo may be the head of the Gojo clan — but you supposed there were still people he had to answer too, if only due to age and tradition — the two very things Gojo hated the most. 

“Why bother respecting those for aging when they haven’t done anything for me to respect?” he had said flippantly to Yaga one day during a lesson, “I rather die young than live to the age of these old coots without accomplishing a damn thing,” and then Yaga firmly smacked Gojo on the head right after, for disrespecting Gakuganji during the sister school exchange event. 

And you had a feeling this meeting was about to go as well as that class did. 

“Is this serious? Have you proposed?” and you have to keep a straight face, but your cheeks burn. 

“Now, don’t embarrass me and my girlfriend,” his fingers intertwined with yours, “but this is serious — she’s the only woman I want to marry — and I’ll do anything to accomplish that,” he leans forward with a smile, squeezing your hand, “because I love her, and I only will ever love her,” 

His gaze slides from Gojo to you, eyes boring into your skull, “and do you feel the same?” 

You never have been one for lying — lying was an uncomfortable feeling that twisted and turned in your stomach like questionable leftovers that you took a gamble on eating, ones that wanted to come out the same way it went in. But you had learned with time because sometimes it was necessary for a sorcerer to lie, and when it was between telling a lie or dying, you’re forced to become quite adept at things you hate. 

And you had learned, as you meet his hardened look, the best lies had some truth ingrained in them. 

“I do, Satoru and I went to Jujutsu Tech together, and he’s the only man I ever loved,” perhaps it was too much truth, as you forced your voice to be steady, “he’s frustrating, irritating, full of himself—“ 

“You don’t have to be that honest—“ Satoru grumbled. 

“But he’s also selfless, unendingly kind, a great teacher, and a good person, maybe even the best person I know,” you can’t bear to look at Satoru, “and he’s the only man I want to call my husband,” 

The silence lingers in the room for a moment before the old man grunts, “I’ll believe it when I see it,” 

“What kind of answer was that?” You asked as Satoru walked you back to the room, his fingers still laced with yours. 

“It means we have to make him believe it — but he’ll at least stop arranging these meetings for me with prospectives,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “and what will make him believe it?” 

He smirks, as he tugs you a little closer, fingers under your chin, “I could kiss you right now, might sell the act,” 

“No one can see us,” 

“Someone’s always watching,” he murmurs, leaning far too close as your breath catches, eyes widening before they flutter shut and you wait. But instead his lips brush your forehead, followed by a flick, “gotcha,” 

Your eyes snap open in a glare, “Gojo!” And he’s cackling. 

“Satoru,” he corrects, as his hand leaves yours as he opens the sliding door to the room, “you coming?” 

You pout, rubbing your forehead, as you brush past him — this was going to be a long few weeks. 

“Why do I even have to go to this?” You were being led through a bustling mall, his arm around your waist, as if to prevent you from escaping (good idea). Your lips twisted in a grimace, you allowed him to drag you along, knowing him, he would carry you over his shoulder without a hint of shame (you don’t think he even contained the word shame in his own vernacular), “can’t you go and wear a ring and go by yourself?” 

“A ring is not as good as having you on my arm now is it?” he bumps you with his hip, “plus, we’re not engaged yet, unless this is a proposal,” he raises an eyebrow, and your cheeks burn. 

“Shut up, I’d never propose to you,” he laughs, but it’s almost strained.

“Never propose to me like that right? Because I deserve a better proposal than that,” he sighs, leading you into a store, “come on, we have to find you a nice outfit for the wedding,” 

You glance at the store, your jaw dropping, “Gojo, this store is so expensive, I can’t afford this—“ 

He lowers his sunglasses just to show you that he’s rolling his eyes, “Who said you’re paying, Princess?” You stare at him, slack jawed, while a salesperson comes up to the two of you — though she’s clearly only interested in one of you. 

“Hi, what can I help you with finding today?” her lips curled in a smile, as she twirled a strand of her around her fingers, “I’d be more than happy to assist you,” her gaze completely fixed on Gojo, without the slightest hint of acknowledgment for you to spare. 

You bite back a scowl, plastering on a fake smile, as you lean into Gojo, “My boyfriend is looking to buy me an outfit for a wedding we’re attending — baby, could you tell her what style you want me to wear?” 

Gojo glances at you, a flicker of surprise that is quickly covered up by a smirk, his arm tightening around your waist, “Yes, I have to make sure my sweetheart is looking her best — so can you please find these styles of dresses for me?” You can’t help the smile on your lips as the salesperson shuffles away, lips a thin line rather than the grin she once had. 

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Gojo chuckles, and you roll your eyes, hoping your expression didn’t give your heart away, the feelings you had stuffed into a crevice of your chest that threatened to burst. 

So you choose to turn it on him instead, as you meet his gaze with a small smirk, “I don’t like people taking what’s mine,” 

But he only takes it in stride, only as Gojo can, “I’m yours, huh?” 

You shrug, choosing to hurt yourself rather than let him do it, “at least for the next two to three months,” and your gaze snaps away and looks to the saleswoman as she comes back with a selection, “if you get to choose my dress, I get to choose a suit for you, deal?” 

Gojo raises an eyebrow, but smiles, “Anything for you, princess.” 

“You just wanted to see me model for you, didn’t you?” Gojo emerges from the changing room in a black button down and white suit coat with a matching white tie — as he tilts his head, “I would say my best suit is my birthday suit,” and you grimace, “oh c’mon, it was a good joke, although—“ 

“Don’t say it’s true,” you lean back, phone in hand as you snap a picture as you did for the last three, “I love to see that self confidence of yours has grown into full blown arrogance,” 

“How can I not be arrogant when I see you snapping pictures of me?” He crosses his arms, the fabric taut and straining over his chest, the top button undone, showing off the adam’s apple that bobs in his throat, “it’s definitely a step up from when you ignored me,” 

You snap from your thoughts, “When did I ignore you?” 

“When we graduated Jujutsu Tech, you’d spend time with Nanami or spend a weekend with Shoko, but whenever I was around, you wouldn’t even reply to a text,” your eyes fall to the floor, chewing your lip, “it wasn’t always like that — I thought we were close,”

It was true — but it wasn’t because you hated him. It was the opposite. You had tried to be his friend, but the more you were his friend, the more it hurt — hurt to see him smile at you like everyone else, hurt to see him with his eyes on the one he wanted, and with his arm around Suguru. 

And you really didn’t hate Suguru —  it was the opposite really — you thought they were perfect, a person who grounded him, made him a better person, and with a much tighter grip on reality than Gojo did — perhaps too tight. Too tight that it shattered apart in his hands, the pieces too far gone to pick out — and too far gone to save him. 

You tried to be there for him — knock on his door when you knew he was home and force him to shower while you and Shoko cleaned up his room. You stayed even when Shoko had long left, holding his hand as he hid his tears from you with his back turned, and you didn’t admit you could hear his nearly silent tears. But eventually, it turned into movie nights, meals shared, and even grocery runs. 

And it became harder and harder to hide how you felt — each minute spent with him was another drop in a bucket that was already overflowing to begin with. At first it had been a crush — an unattainable crush that you were happy to leave at just that. But eventually, it became so much more — you had fallen in love with him, when you really shouldn’t have. Because he didn’t need a partner — he needed a friend. 

“Gojo, I didn’t ignore you—“ 

“I’ve called you sweetheart, did your number change and then magically change back when you came back to Tokyo?” 

But once he had pulled himself together, you were graduating and you requested to be put in Kyoto — your excuse being you were tired being in the city — but to Satoru, you gave no excuse, you quietly left without a word. Because you were really tired of having your heart broken — so you needed space, and you were willing to do anything to get it. 

“Gojo, I didn’t really talk much to Nanami or Shoko when I left either, I just needed space—“ 

“Space from what?” You sighed, parting your lips when his phone rings. He checks it before taking it, “another mission? Yeah, I can leave tonight,” you bit your lip, “send Ijichi to take me to the airport. Yeah, ok,” and he hangs up, “we’ll have to cut this short. I have to go overseas,” 

“How long will you be gone?” 

“Probably just a few days. I’ll be back soon,” you bite your lip, and he tilts his head, “you worried about me, Princess?” 

You flush, opening and closing your mouth, “I am,” and he blinks, seemingly surprised, “come back safe. Text me to let me know when you land,” 

His lips curl, as he ruffles your hair, “I will — and I’ll be back soon enough. Promise,” and he pauses, “you want a souvenir?” 

“You don’t have to—“ 

“I want to,” he cuts you off, and your cheeks warm. 

And just then, he gets a text, “Ijichi Is almost here. I’ll have him drop you back first,” and he turns to change out of his clothes.

“Satoru,” you catch him by the sleeve, and he pauses, “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you after all of that. It had nothing to do with you, there was just a lot going on—“ he says your name, but you shake your head, “but it won’t happen again, I promise,”

“Good,” he steps back into the changing room, a grin on his lips, “I wouldn’t let you get away this time anyway, sweetheart.” 

“Gojo?” You say again, and he tilts his head, “get the indigo suit,” 

He grins, “and you have good taste, well, of course you do,” he holds the door open, “I am your boyfriend after all.” 

And the door of the fitting room swings shut, and you hope he’s not looking at you, as your cheeks burn, your heart squeezing in spite of every thought of your mind telling not to go there — not to go down that road, but you should have known, the moment you said yes to this plan—

You were already there. 

You had never known that the buzz of your phone could make you more happy — or anxious. 

But it had been over the course of the last few days. Because you’re probably an idiot, but that wasn’t the point. 

how bad of an idea would it be for me to try this Karanga and Chapati place that Yuta recommended? 

You snorted, Satoru, the last time you had curry — that wasn’t even that spicy, you couldn’t taste anything for a week.

Another buzz, But Yuta said it’s not so bad

You roll your eyes, imagining the pout he undoubtedly has on his lips — Yuta has never seen you cry over a bowl of curry — stick with your desserts, and you chuckle as you add: you may be the strongest but you have the weakest taste buds 

It takes some time for another response to come — and when it does, you realize a grave error on your part was made: never point out any flaw to this idiot because he will take it as a challenge. 

This is Yuta — Gojo-sensei tried it and he’s now in the bathroom. He told me to tell you he’d text you later. 

This was how the last few days flew by — texts with updates about his mission, his work, and his check-ins with Yuta. And the night before he was flying back, just as you were cooking dinner, he called you— 

“Gojo? Isn’t it 2:00 AM there right now?” 

“You learned the time difference for me?” you heard his words slur over the other line, “Sweethearttttt,” I went out with Yuta and Miguel, and I may have gotten a littttttle tipsy,” 

“Isn’t it like 2:00 AM there?” 

He clicks his tongue, “Miguel challenged me to a drinking contest,” and you groan, rubbing a hand down your face, “but they got me back into my hotel room, even though I’m not tired,” he mumbles, as you hear the crinkle of his bedsheets and the rustling of his comforter. 

“Have you drank water? How much alcohol did you have?” 

“Are you worried about me?” he giggles, before sighing, “I’m glad,” 

“Why are you glad?” You hold the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you stir the pan with your dinner currently in it. 

“Because it means you care about me,” he murmurs, “everyone who cares about me always leaves,” he gives a small bitter chuckle, “maybe it’s better for you not to care about me. It’s dangerous to care about someone like me — the type to die young or live far too long,” 

“Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he mutters, voice growing thick with sleep, “call me Satoru,” and his soft snores fill your ear as he falls into the sandman’s grasp — a small reprieve from his feelings — while you were left to dwell in them. 

All this time you had been thinking how you felt, what you were dealing with, what you wanted — and all these years and you hadn’t thought about how your actions made him felt. You thought he was beyond any hurt you could possibly inflict — his infinity meant that he was leagues above anywhere you could possibly reach — but it didn’t. 

He wasn’t. He was a person — and when had you stopped treating him as one? 

You texted Yuta: make sure your sensei is lying on his side and make him drink some water. And don’t let Miguel goad him into drinking ever again. 

Yuta: got it. sorry about that sensei — gojo wouldn’t listen

You scoffed, chuckling at how Yuta called you sensei but did not afford Gojo the same courtesy. 

You stayed on the phone with Gojo, hearing Yuta come in and persuading him to drink some water, before he fell back asleep, but even in his drunken state, he wouldn’t give up his phone — Yuta snapping a picture and sending it to you. You laughed when you saw it — loml with a dozen hearts and a picture of you in your obi, clearly taken when you weren’t looking, but it wasn’t those things that made you laugh — it was the way Gojo clung to his phone, fingers wrapped around it desperately, as he slept. 

You stayed on the phone with him all night, even when you went to bed — of course just to make sure he’s fine — the call waking you when it disconnected after reaching the max call time. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the time — 5:00 AM. And almost like clockwork, your phone rings again, Gojo’s number flashing on your screen. 

You pick up, “Mm, hello?” you yawn, “finally awake sleeping beauty?” 

“Glad you finally decided to acknowledge my beauty,” his voice is gravelly, thick with sleep, and god, you can’t help but imagine waking to this voice every day — “ugh I have a headache,” he murmurs, the crumple you hear must be him burying his face in his pillow because the next question he asks is muffled, “why were we on the phone?” 

“You called me last night after drinking, and refused to hang up after Yuta helped you get settled,” you chuckle, as you hear his groan over the phone, “I got a new contact picture for you out of it, love of my life,” 

“Glad you’re finally on board,” he mutters, growing quiet, “why didn’t you hang up?” 

You pause, “what do you mean?” You ask slowly. 

“You could’ve hung up at any time, but you stayed on the phone, even when you fell asleep,” his voice was soft, “why?” 

“I just,” you bit your lip, you couldn’t lie to him, at least not completely, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and you didn’t want to hang up — so I didn’t,” 

He’s silent for a moment, and you almost wish you could sink into the Earth — but he only says, “okay, now what’s the plan for the day, Princess?” 

Your lips curl, “Well my day has not really began yet since it’s 5:00 AM here, so I’m probably going to sleep for several hours and wake up at an hour that is not bereft of god,” 

“You really couldn’t just say ‘ungodly?’” He snorts. 

“Well, 5:00 AM makes me wax poetic, what can I say?” Another yawn parts your lips, “I’m going to sleep,” 

But he doesn’t hang up, “I’ll be here, sweetheart.”  

You glanced at the time, he’s late. 

Well, he wouldn’t be Gojo if he didn’t make an entrance. You slumped on the couch — even if he was getting home from his mission, there was no guarantee he’d stop by your place to see you. He might want to just go home — or stop by Jujutsu Tech, or be anywhere else. You couldn’t have expectations — expectations were only a  way to be disappointed, a drop from soaring that would only be met with the impact of the cold, unforgiving ground. 

Especially expectations from a fake relationship. You lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling — why were being such an idiot about this? The TV drones on in the background, illuminating the dark of the living room, as you sit barely paying attention to a random rom com you had picked. 

Maybe it was because Satoru had spent the rest of today on the phone with you, even through a security check (warning the security officers not to hang up his call) and at the gate. And then every day after that, he had called and texted you like clockwork — stupid things— good morning and good night, random memes that made him think of you, pictures of his day (including ones of him messing with his students), questions of what sweet you wanted from the shop he had decided to frequent, calls about your day and his own, and hours long conversations about nothing at all. Maybe because you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke to you — or maybe it was because you were just down bad. 

It was probably the latter. 

You take a throw pillow and pull it over your face. What were you thinking? Falling for your old crush and fake boyfriend a night before a wedding was a trope in a bad rom com that you spent your weekend night watching — it shouldn’t be how you feel. 

“That’s a nice look,” you jump, pulling the pillow away, to be met with Gojo’s gaze hidden behind another pair of sunglasses, “honey, I’m home,” 

You bite back your smile, “one, this isn’t your home, and two, how did you get inside?” 

“It’s pretty easy when you can teleport, you should try it sometime,” he sits beside you, more like collapses as he falls into the couch, his head resting against the top, “although if someone moved in with me, it’d be much easier,” and you laugh. 

“Shouldn’t you ask a girl out before you ask her to move in?” he shrugs, his arm resting across the top of the couch. 

“I’m anything but traditional,” he sighs, glancing at the TV, “what are we watching?” 

“A bad rom com,” 

He snorts, “watching it to mercilessly pick it apart?” And you raise an eyebrow, “what? I did stay awake for some of those movies— it was some of my favorite memories during that time and some of the only times I could actually sleep,” 

“Yeah, it was a nice way for both of us to turn our brains off for a bit,” you glanced at him, “thought it’d be nice for us too,” his gaze slides to you curiously, “I know there’s been a lot on your mind — with itadori and the special grades,” 

He sighs, running fingers through his hair,  “Yeah, old geezers seem to cause problems in all parts of my life,” you snort, “can’t believe they’d try to do away with Itadori while I was gone,” 

“They don’t see anyone as innocent — they see whether you’re an asset or a threat, unfortunately, they see Itadori not as the former,” you shake your head, as your eyes stare at the movie flashing on the screen, but you don’t really watch, “they’re too far gone to see the innocence of children,” 

“You sound like Kento,” and your eyes meet his, his cerulean gaze already on you, his sunglasses discarded on your coffee table. 

“Funny, thought I sounded like you,” he blinks a moment, “Satoru, you’re all about preserving the youth of children — that’s why you saved Megumi, Yuta, and Yuji — even when you had every reason not to,” 

“How could I not? Youth belongs to the young after all,” a wistful smile on his lips, “i don’t want the same to happen to them that happened to us,” 

“To us,” you repeat, a sharp pain sticks between your ribs at the flash of Haibara’s smile and the whisper of Suguru’s laugh, “more like to them,” 

“Yeah,” a silence falling over the two of you as the white noise of the TV filled the quiet, “but sometimes I think we went down along with them,” 

You shake your head, “I think a part of us did — a part of us will stay there—“ frozen in time and seeping like poison in our bones, “but we’re still here,” you risk to toe the line you’d never cross, your fingers brushing his, “and it’s not over for us,” 

And his eyes flicker to your fingers threaded with his, as his fingers squeeze yours slowly, the corner of his lips quirk upwards, as you stretch and sit up, fingers falling away from his, a yawn on your lips, “should we get some sleep?” 

“Come on, let’s finish the movie,” he murmurs, even though sleep seems to weigh heavily on his body, eyelids fluttering shut as he turns to you, cheek pressed against the couch, “hey,” he murmurs, “it wasn’t the movies that let me relax,” and you can hear the unspoken meaning in those words — but that was the problem. 

It was unspoken. 

Your fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than to brush your fingers against his cheek — but you can’t. 

You’d allowed yourself to toe the line you’d long drawn in the sand that you’d built into a wall — you had even allowed yourself to stir a few bricks from its place, but you couldn’t cross it. Not now. 

Your eyes are growing heavy. Maybe not ever. 

Your neck hurts. 

The first thought you have as you rouse into aching consciousness. Why was it so bright? Did you forget to draw your curtains? You draw an arm over your face, already dreading the waking hours, until you realize it’s your day off, and you sigh, relaxing into your bed. 

Or what you thought was your bed. 

Except your bed couldn’t move, nor could it pull you closer. But now something or someone was, an arm around your waist with movement behind you that made breath warm your ear. And you probably would have screamed, if you hadn’t heard the familiar voice whisper your name in your ear. 

Gojo. 

Gojo??? 

Your head slowly turned to be met with the strongest sorcerer very much passed out, half behind you, half on top of you — his blue eyes hidden under his eyelids for once instead of any covering that he used to protect himself. His snowy white locks brushed against your skin, the close proximity doing nothing to alleviate your feelings — you had only hoped you could see one flaw, one ick, and maybe you’d be done. But on Satoru Gojo? The man born to be perfect — the same one who sang karaoke for the first time as a teen only to be so incredible that it moved your server to tears? 

You really should have fucking known better. 

Your breath caught, and you wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment—if no one had, you would surely be the first case. You were always a trail blazer. 

And you tried to shift again, if only to maneuver yourself out of this situation, but he moved along with you, seeking out the contact he was losing. And this only ended with him lying on top of you, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and his legs straddling one of your legs— and then you felt it — a very distinct bulge pressed against your thigh. 

Fuck. Your. Life. 

He mumbled in his sleep, nose brushing against the hollow of your neck, drawing another shiver from your body. You had a rare opportunity to touch him — didn’t you, no infinity between the two of you — just him and you. You were in a position probably many desired to be in — admirers and enemies alike (neither category being mutually exclusive). You supposed old habits die hard — and so did old crushes. 

Could you let yourself enjoy this for a moment? Enjoy the feeling, no matter how real it never would be? Maybe it was wrong, but — your eyes fluttered shut as your arm wrapped loosely around Gojo — you certainly didn’t want to be the one to wake up first. 

And you weren’t — your eyes flutter open to movement, and your eyes meet cerulean eyes, lips parted in surprise, “Morning,” he manages, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks, “did we fall asleep?” 

“I guess we did,” you bite your lip, “are you going to—” 

And he blinks, before scrambling off of you, “Sorry,” he mumbles, as he turns away to fidget with his phone. 

“Guess that was one very boring movie,” you murmur. 

“Or I was in a very comfortable bed,” he replies with a smirk that turns to a grimace. 

“What is it?” 

“Naoya Zenin is making an appearance at the wedding we’re attending tomorrow,” and you groan, as he raises an eyebrow, “how many proposals had he made you?” 

You scoff, “Proposals? More like propositions,” you shake your head, already aching from the sleep you had barely shaken off and now it had graduated to a shooting pain that made your eye twitch at the thought of that man, “he’s offered to do me the ‘honor’ of being the next heir’s husband half a dozen times. If he ever becomes the head of the Zenin clan, I may help Maki annihilate them myself,” 

Naoya Zenin — the most pretentious and egocentric man you had the displeasure of meeting. Even his pretty face could do nothing to fix his hideous personality ridden with misogyny, hatred, and spite. And you’d been offered his hand in marriage half a dozen times due to your lineage in a lesser known clan family with a unique cursed energy. It was a strategic move to try and secure his place — as was every move he made — he had no room for anyone he deemed useless to his plan. 

Unfortunately, you did not fall into that special category.

“That won’t happen,” Gojo replies, texting on his phone, “plus, he’s too weak to force that to happen — not to mention he’s a first class prick,” 

“You say that, but you basically propositioned me,” you teased, as his eyes flit up from his phone, as you rise from the couch, “quite the proposal you came to me with,” 

He pauses a moment, a small smile on his lips, “one, i don’t recall proposing, and trust me that’s something I’d remember,” and you roll your eyes, “and two, aren’t you just as bad, since you said yes, sweetheart?” 

“Can you blame a girl wanting a little extra money?” And he locks his phone, drawing close, your breath catching as he lets himself linger for a second too long. 

“Can you blame a man for wanting a beautiful and intelligent woman?” And he’s leaning close, but he leans back, only grabbing his coat from the couch, still slung over as it had been. He spares you a smirk at your bewildered expression, “close your mouth, you’ll catch flies, princess, and what a shame that would be,” you scowl, and he laughs as he heads to the door, slipping on his shoes, with a final glance and grin thrown over his shoulder as he opened your door, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” 

Right. Tomorrow. The wedding. 

Fuck. You were so screwed. 

KNOCK. KNOCK. 

Fuck. You scrambled from your vanity as you finished putting the finishing touches on your look for tonight. You didn’t think Satoru Gojo of all people could ever be on time, but you supposed there was a first time for everything. 

You slipped the dress over your head, careful not to smear your makeup or mess up your hair. You were starting to regret not having the Gojo family’s attendants get you ready for this event, if only so you could have turned your mind off for this time. But you knew all too well that your mind could never give you a break — with all of that free time came free real estate for your anxiety to set up camp and put down roots for all the things that could possibly go wrong. So it was better this way, as you reach for the ties on the back of your dress — of course, maybe if you had let yourself be helped, you could actually have someone to tie your corset back on this dress. 

Another knock. 

“Sweetheart?” You hear Gojo’s muffled voice through the door, “you’re not planning on standing me up are you?” 

You stumble your way to the door, clutching the back of your dress, as you take a breath and throw it open, “Can you tie the back of my dress?” 

Fuck. He looked gorgeous. His hair was parted and combed off to the side, a deep blue suit coat and a crisp white collared shirt tucked into a matching suit pant. A pair of sunglasses were tucked into the chest pocket of his jacket in front of a white pocket square. 

“No hello, ‘can you tie my dress?’” Gojo tilts his head, his eyes graze over your appearance, as he steps inside and closes the door behind him, “turn around,” And you do, fingers still clutching at the fabric at the back of your dress, cheeks burning as you do, “gonna have to let go, and let me help you, sweetheart,” 

You slowly let go, but his warm fingers brush against the skin of your bare back as he holds the dress up from slipping, carefully lacing the corset, “I was right, blue is your color,” he murmurs, as he tugs lightly at the strings, “let me know when it’s tight enough,” 

“It’s good now,” you sigh — though the corset wasn’t as tight as your chest now, you face him now, trying to adjust your hair. 

“Let me,” one hand cups your chin gently, your breath catching and you can only hope he can’t feel your pulse through your skin. His fingers run through your soft tresses, your eyes unable to meet his — but you wonder if he can see right through you anyway — “you’ve never been good at asking for help,” 

“Look who’s talking,” you glare at him, as he chuckles, “well, I asked you didn’t I?” 

“Why did you ask me?” You raise an eyebrow, “I’m sure you could have asked anyone,” 

“Well, I didn’t want just anyone,” he murmurs, fingers tracing the blush you had lined your cheeks with, “I wanted you,” 

“Why?” And he parts his lips, a soft smile that pulls at his features — was it a hint of pink across his cheeks. 

“Because—“ and your phone goes off — a reminder with the time of the wedding. And the moment’s broken, as reality settles over you again, “We’ll be late,” 

“I don’t mind being late,” and a heat burns from his touch, from the tips of your fingers to the his fingers leave your cheek, warmth fading as quickly as it came, but he offers his hand, “but if it’s for you, I can be on time,” and your fingers find his, interlacing, before he tugs you close, his arm around your waist, “as long as you stay by my side.”

You never were one for weddings. At least not one like this. 

A stuffy event held in an extravagant manner — a large banquet hall for the reception, but now the guests roamed the gardens the hall opened out into — lush greenery serving as a perfect backdrop for this wedding — a distant branch of the Zenin family was marrying, which meant all of the main clans were invited to attend. Including several elders of the Gojo clan. 

And now you were being subjected to this as well — several dozen eyes on you — all due to the man whose arm you were on. His arm wrapped almost protectively around your waist, his lips nearly brushed against your ear when he whispered in it, letting you know just exactly who was coming over. 

“I didn’t think you were one to care for remembering these things,” you wave at the couple that just left the two of you, his fingers grazing the skin behind your ear as he tucked a stray strand behind it. 

“I usually don’t care, but I know it’d make you uncomfortable otherwise, especially among all these people,” he smirks, his fingers finding yours, and squeezing, “plus, we need to make a good impression, don’t we?” 

“I think we’re making an impression just by being together,” you murmur, and he raises an eyebrow, “everyone’s staring — didn’t you notice?” and he shrugs, a sly smile on his lips. 

“Didn’t notice,” he tilts his head, his eyes fixed on you, “I was too busy looking elsewhere, I guess,” 

Your cheeks burn, but as your lips part to respond, you see him walking over to the discreet corner you had parked yourselves in,  “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, your fingers tightening around his. 

Naoya Zenin strides over in a black yukata kimono, his silver hair pushed back, his lips twisted in a slimy smile that made your skin crawl, your name leaving his lips, “it’s been far too long, you’re looking lovely,” his eyes raked over you like hot coals, “though the company you keep—” 

“Has improved markedly,” Satoru’s lips curl in a grin, “do you have business with my girlfriend?” 

Naoya raises an eyebrow, “Girlfriend?” 

Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, “I didn’t realize you went hard of hearing — I know your hair had started to go, but your hearing too—” you hid your snort poorly, Naoya’s sharp gaze flickering between the two of you. 

“I’m younger than you are, and my hair is bleached,” he snaps, “or are those six eyes not sharp enough to see that as well? They certainly aren’t enough for you to have found Suguru Geto before he caused a war,” 

And Satoru’s hurt is imperceptible — a hint of hurt that only shows in the tightness of his jaw for a millisecond, before he’s only giving another laugh. 

“At least I am already the head of my clan, because even if I were without my six eyes,” he smirks, but a certain meanness pulls at his features, “I’m still not as weak as you are—”

Naoya’s expression sours, curdled into a foul scowl, “What did you—” 

“Alright,” you hold up your hands, “Let’s save the dick measuring contest for later, okay? This is a wedding, let’s not cause a scene, ok?” you glance between the two of them, and Satoru pouts — while Naoya seems all too pleased, a grin broken across his lips. 

“This is why you’re the perfect woman — you know how to mediate between men’s egos, and—” 

“Naoya, I said let’s not cause a scene, and you’re two steps away from me causing one right now,” you snap, “I wasn’t interested the first dozen times you asked me when I was single, so why would you think I’d be interested now, when I have a boyfriend?” 

His face flushes red, and you’re not sure whether it’s in anger or embarrassment, “I doubt you’re even really a couple,” he hisses, “I know all about the proposals that this idiot has been getting and the pressure to marry,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m sure you’ll come running to me once he’s done using you—“ 

Satoru surges forward, but you press a hand against his chest, “We don’t need to justify our relationship to you, so think what you want — but even if Satoru and I break up, I rather die single than ever spend a minute with you,” and you look at Satoru, your gaze softening, “and I rather spend be single for the rest of my life than spend another minute without him,” and you slide your eyes back to Naoya, his fists clenched, as you lean in, “so fuck off.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but the staff begin to wave everyone into their seats, and the wedding begins. The two of you sit, a silence falling over as others take their seats beside you. A subtle tension as music filled the air and the wedding proceedings began—but you could have cared less— god what the fuck had you said to Naoya? How had Gojo taken it? Does he know how you feel? Does he think it’s an act? 

Then his fingers find yours, “Thank you,” he whispers softly, managing only those two words before the wedding begins. 

And it dawns on you — it wasn’t what you said, it was the fact you had defended him, your heart aches, it was the fact you had defended him when Naoya insulted Suguru. 

Your eyes stay fixed forward as the ceremony begins — it was never about you — as you pulled your fingers away from him. 

Like it always never was. 

The wedding ceremony goes by — as does the reception, without much to-do. The only silver lining is that there’s far too much small talk for the two of you to have a moment to talk alone, especially when the two of you spot the Gojo clan elders side-eyeing you from the table of old folks, not to mention Naoya hovering around that same table, the same scowl on his face. The only remark that Satoru whispered as the two of you floated by the table pointedly, a smirk on his lips as he waved and held you close to his side — “one quick hollow purple could solve my problems,” 

You gave a forced chuckle at that — unfortunately not yours. 

And finally, the two of you head home — in relative silence, the drive being short to Gojo’s apartment, where your car was parked. You sigh as he pulls in, “I’ll head out I guess—” 

“Why don’t you just stay the night?” and your gaze snaps to his, the first time all night, “it’s really late, and I have a guest room—” 

“My apartment isn’t—” 

“Your apartment isn’t far, but I thought we could…talk,” and your heart gallops to a start — talking was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“What is there to talk about?” And his fingers brush against your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“Maybe about why you can’t meet my eyes?” You huff, looking away. 

“Can you blame me? Your blue eyes are freaky,” you grumble, and you can hear the judgment in the silence, a first for Gojo,  “Gojo, what do you want me to say?” 

He stays quiet for a moment, “You don’t have to say anything, just come inside,” So you do — following him inside, the silence hanging over you like a guillotine waiting to slice, “Thank you for what you said—“ 

The door clicks behind him, as you stop, “Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you’re shaking your head. 

“You don’t have to thank me, I was just—“ 

“But what you said—“ 

“I said what I had to—“ 

“You didn’t have to say all that, Princess,” his voice grows soft, “you know you didn’t,” and he’s drawing closer across his living room. 

“He was upsetting you,” you murmur, eyes unable to find his again, falling instead to his plush carpet laid against his hardwood, “I couldn’t stand by and let him — I know it hurt when he brought up Suguru—“ 

“Suguru?” he repeats, and your eyes find his, finally, and you find his brow furrowed, “is that what you think I was thanking you for?” 

“What else would you—“ and he’s stepping even closer, your breath stuck in your throat as his fingertips graze your cheek again, “Satoru—“ 

“Did I mention how beautiful you looked tonight?” he murmurs, a soft chuckle in his voice, “you always look beautiful, but tonight in particular, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” 

“You don’t have to—“ 

“That’s just it, I don’t have to,” his palm slides against your cheek, “I want to — I want to when it’s you,” 

“But, i can’t do this, not like this,” tears burn at the corners of your eyes, water threatening to spill out of a too full glass that had been full for far too long, “not when it will give me—“ you cut yourself off before you cut your own heart out, but he’s only forcing the scalpel back into your hand. 

“Give you what?” 

And you can’t turn back now — you’d turned from this road far too many times, sprinted in the opposite direction only to end up here again — you needed to do this, even if it lead to a dead end cliff, “Give me the wrong idea,” and you’re turning away, but his hand catches you by the wrist, “stop, I—“ 

“It’s not the wrong idea,” and you stop. 

No, it was. It was, right? 

“Satoru—“ and his fingers find your own, as he steps closer, “please, don’t—“ 

“If you want me to really stop and forget about this, I will,” he murmurs, “I’ll turn around and open the door and let you go home right now, sweetheart. I won’t bring this up again,” but you don’t move away, you don’t say anything, so he continues, “but if you don’t want that, and you want the same thing I do—“ 

“And what is it that you want?” And you hear his soft chuckle, his cheek brushing against you, as his fingers tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“I thought that was obvious, but I guess I’ll have to spell it out for you,” he squeezes your hand, as he guides your face to look back at him, his lips curled in a small smile, “I want you,” 

Your breath is shaky, no, no — he doesn’t mean that, “No you don’t,” 

He tilts his head, “You don’t think I don’t know what I want?” 

“Satoru, I don’t want to be a substitute for others—“ 

And his hands are sliding around your middle, pulling you closer, “You think I could ever think of you as a second choice?” 

“But—“ and every doubt from when you were younger wells up, every fear of not being enough — but they are erased away, crumbled into dust, by the way he looks at you — entire multitudes of skies all made to look at you. 

“You keep finding reasons not to do this,” and his fingers skim your cheek, before resting under your chin, “but have you tried finding a reason why we should?” 

“Satoru—“ you can’t help but lean into his touch — god, he was a temptation personified — everything you ever wanted, even when you tried not to want it. These feelings were never fake — so why not give in? Just this once. Your fingers slide against his cheek, and you can feel his skin burn under your touch, “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“No, sweetheart,” he leans in even closer, your breaths becoming one, “but I’d love to find out,” 

His lips brush yours — it’s chaste, hesitant, testing the waters — he tastes like sugar, and you almost laugh — he tastes like the frosting from the wedding cake that he had swiped a slice of on the way out that he finished before you two had reached his car. His eyes flutter open for half a second, before your lips are crashing to his this time — a new record for addiction? A second maybe and you were too far gone. 

His hands cup your cheeks, one sliding to the back of your neck, as the other slides down to your waist to pull you ever closer. 

“Did you find it out?” You murmur between kisses, lips meeting and parting if only to allow you both a breath. And his snowy eyelashes flutter, as his lips quirk upwards. 

“Think I need another,” and his lips swallow any coherent thoughts you have, his hands slipping down your sides, lips parting again, “another,” he murmurs, a kiss, “another,” 

“How many do you need?” you ask breathlessly, a chuckle caught in your throat, and his lips press desperate kisses along your jaw, a smirk against your skin. 

“Is infinity an answer?” And you laugh, “have to take responsibility — I’m addicted to you,” 

“And if I’m addicted?” His hands squeeze your hips, drawing a gasp from your lips. 

“I’d be more than happy to take responsibility for you, Princess — always have,” 

Your heart beats against the bars of its cage, threatening to burst out — but you couldn’t — not without knowing, “And if you break my heart?”

“I won’t ever break your heart,” he leans down to press butterfly kisses to your cheek, “but even if I do, I’ll put it back together,” 

“Promise?” You murmur, and his lips meet yours again, and again, as he’s leading you towards his bedroom, his fingers running through your hair.

And the door to his bedroom swings shut, “Promise.”  

“How long are you going to tease me?” you’re grumbling, cheeks hot and eyes averted, the back of your hand pressed against your lips, as Satoru presses needy kisses along your neckline of your dress. 

He looks up at you through his snowy lashes, and you don’t know if you want to slap the smile off his lips or kiss it off, “You’ve been teasing me for years, you can’t give me this time, sweetheart?” His teeth graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “plus, do y’know how fun it is to watch you squirm?” 

Slap. It’s definitely a slap. 

“You’re insufferable,” and he smirks when your breath catches when his lips ghost over the swell of your chest. 

“Yet you’re the one who's under me—“ and you try to get up only for him to pin you back down, a pout on his lips, “alright, alright, can’t blame me for wanting to see you squirm, Princess, how many chances will I get?” 

“Only this one if you keep this up,” and he’s finding your lips in a languid kiss, an apology with no words, a smile filled with affection that only made it hard for you to feign annoyance. 

“Then I better make this count,” he’s gently helping you up, turning you around to undo your corset strings — but you wonder if he’s undoing it or tangling it, “why did we choose a dress with such a complicated back?” It’s his turn to grumble and it only draws a giggle from you. 

“Surprised you haven’t hollow purple’d it by now,” 

“Trust me if you weren’t in it, I would have,” he sighs, as the fabric begins to loosen up, slipping off your shoulders. 

“And here I thought you were good at everything,” you chuckle as he helps you shimmy out of the dress, the fabric falling away from you in a small pool around your ankles. Pools of blue rake over your exposed body, raising goosebumps in its wake, as your arms reflexively try to cover yourself, but his hands find your own, easing them away. 

“I’m good at what counts, Princess,” he kisses your wrist, pulse jumping under his touch, nose brushing against it, he hovers over you, as he undoes his tie, fingers tugging at the knot, as he undoes the top button of his shirt, “and I’ll show you.” 

~~~~

Satoru had dreamed of this — of you and him. He knew when he realized it — although it was too late when he did. Maybe it was the night before you left — the night after graduation — before you left — you had fallen asleep watching the movie you had put on. Your lips parted and mouth ajar, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were out. He had leaned over to grab his phone to snap a picture to tease you with later, only for your fingers to grab onto him, your head on his shoulder, a quiet murmur of his name. 

“Satoru,” — not Gojo, as you had always called him. And he knew he wanted to hear you say it again and again. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair away, his head leaning against yours.

Suguru was everything to him for a time — he had come to Satoru at a time where he thought no one else would ever be able to understand him. No one else would be able to reach him — because how does a person reach for a god? But here you were — and the way your head rested on his shoulder and your lips said his name made him want nothing more than you by his side. 

And when you left — you didn’t reply to his messages, you disappeared, just like everyone else did in his life. He was always left alone in the end — maybe it was his fate. 

But then you came back — came back almost right after Suguru left for good. And that part of his heart that was meant for you began to thrive again and again — as he spent more time with you. 

And god, when his clan started to pressure him to find someone to marry — he wrote them off as he always did. He thought he could ride out the ridiculous proposals and dates they had arranged for him — but as he thought more about who he wanted to spend his time with, who he wanted to see after a tiring mission, and who he couldn’t imagine being without —- 

And he realized it was you. 

“Satoru, don’t tease me,” you pouted, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip, legs spread for him, his eyes flirting between your all too cute expression and the growing wet patch on your panties, “fuck, please—“ 

“Gonna have to tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, his arm hooked under your knee, your foot pressed against his back, “where do you want me?” 

“You fuck-er—“ the last syllable is a gasp as he kisses your sensitive clit through your soaked underwear, “Toru—“ a whine leaves your throat. 

Fuck, you’re so cute, his fingers toy with the elastic of your panties — and all of this was worth it, worth it to see if these feelings were what he thought they were, worth it to make you smile, and worth to end up with you. 

“How can I refuse you when you say my name like that?” he’s tugging your underwear away, exposing your sipping cunt to a rush of air and his warm breath, “all this f’me, baby?” You mumble something he can’t quite make out, “what was that?” 

Your glassy eyes look up at him, blown wide with lust, “Only f’you, Satoru,” fuck, his dick twitches — he could bust just looking at you. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, “g’nna make me cum just with your words,” but he diverts his attention to your needy cunt, his long fingers graze over your pussy, collecting the precum on his fingertips, before he pinches your clit. 

“Toru,” you squirm, as he grins down at you, all too pleased. 

“Imagine if the elders could see you like this — spread out for me like a good little wife,” he’s leaning down to kiss your fluttering folds, leaning back for you to see the shiny pre that clings to his lips that his pink tongue darts out to clean off, “sweetest thing I’ve tasted,” 

“Please, Toru, fuck—“ and finally his finger is circling your hole, before sinking in knuckle deep — fuck, you were fucking tight — he could melt from your warmth, pulling him in like a siren to a drunken sailor, “oh my god,” 

“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ princess,” and he earns a glare from you that fades into an open mouthed moan as he begins to pump his finger in and out, “so good for me,” and he’s adding another finger, the wet squelch of your cunt growing louder, as he reaches a hand down to graze against his erection if only for a little relief. 

He wishes he could memorize the way you looked right now — perfect little lips parted for him, his name and soft pants the only sounds you could manage to make, your back arching into his touch, and the way you moaned when his lips found their way around your clit. 

His tongue circles your clit at first before his lips suck at the hard pearl, fingers parting your dripping folds, finally finding that spot that had your walls giving that telltale spasm, “Toru, I’m close—g’nna cum—“ you whimper, his fingers pistoning in and out of your cunt as he sucks hard at your clit, and you cum, hard, around his fingers, drenching his face and finger alike, as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

You’re beautiful — lips parted and chest heaving, as you moan his name again, “good girl,” he’s murmuring, as your eyes flutter open, to watch him lick his lips and fingers clean, “might get addicted to how you taste, sweetheart,” 

And you’re boneless, but still you’re still reaching for him, pulling him into a languid kiss, his cock twitching as he shifts himself over you, hands pressed into the mattress, his clothed cock rubbing against your drenched folds. 

“Wanna make you feel good,” you mumble against his lips, and he’s pulling back an inch — but unknowingly, he’s given you a mile, as you flip him onto his back. 

You’re a vision — your perked up nipples visible through your bra, halfway slipping off your shoulders as it is, hair a lovely mess, and pretty lips kiss ruined. 

“My turn,” and your lips burn a trail down his jaw, along the curve of his neck and the cut of his collarbone. You take your time, if only to pay him back in full for all the teasing he did, “didn’t know you taste so sweet, Toru,” your tongue drags up his chest, “must be all the sugar you eat,” 

And your lips smile against his abs at the sharp gasp he fails to stifle, “I’ll have you know I’m very sweet—“ and your fingers graze over his clothed erection — his hips buck up into your touch, “I’m known for it,” he hisses, as a giggle escapes your lips. 

“Uh-huh, I’m sure almost everyone would care to disagree,” the tip of his cock strains against the fabric, the dark wet patch growing larger the more your thumb beared down on it, “but I wouldn’t be one of them,” and you’re dragging the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock, your eyes nearly hypnotized by the slight of it, thick beads of precum dripping from the slit, before your gaze finds his again, softening, “because I know how much you do for others — and how much you’ve lost because of it,” you kiss his inner thigh softly, nose brushing against the skin. 

“As long I don’t lose you,” he says softly, “I think I’ll be okay,” 

And your fingers find their way around the base of his cock, drawing a ragged gasp from his lips, before you lean down and flick your tongue against his leaking tip, “I’m not going anywhere, Toru.” 

Your tongue drags a thick stripe up his cock, before beginning to trace along one of his veins, your fingers slipping up to use his pre to rub up and down his length. Your thumb teases his slit, and a hiss leaves his lips, a smirk against his dick. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” his cheeks burn, dusted with pink surely — as he watches you lick the precum that dripped down your fingers onto your wrist, “knew that mouth would be s’fucking good—“ 

“Turns out you don’t shut up even in bed,” and that earns you a cheeky grin that parts into an ‘o’ as his dick sinks into your mouth. He swears he was closer to death than he was when Toji nearly killed him — not that he’d like to remember that man in this moment — but you’d surely be the death of him, and you would be — if he had to spend another second without you in his life. 

Fuck, he looks down at you, eyes half shut, his white knuckled fingers gripping the sheets — you’re gorgeous as you swallow him whole — sucking and licking, nose brushing against his pubes as your eyes water, as you bob along his length from tip to base and back again. 

“S’good for me, so pretty, fuck—” he groans, when his tip brushes against your throat, his fingers finding your scalp to try and ease you off,  I’m s’close princess, g’nna cum—” But your hands only slide to his ass to hold yourself against him, as his dick twitches in your mouth, and your fingers drift to his sack while your tongue flicks along his slit and he’s done. He’s cumming down your throat, hot release painting your mouth.

He’s watching you with half lidded eyes pull away from him— a string of cum and spit strung between your lips and his dick, before beginning to drip from the corner of your mouth. And fuck, it’s enough to make him hard all over again. You lean over him, wiping the release from your lips, as you kiss up his body. 

“Now who’s good at everything?” and he huffs out a chuckle. 

“I stand corrected — actually, don’t think I’ll be standing for a while after that but—” and he’s finding your lips in a kiss, tasting himself you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, as your fingers find his erection again, stroking it, before he’s flipped you onto your back. He runs a hand through his snowy locks, a smile on his lips, “don’t think you’ll be doing much standing after this either,” 

“So full of yourself,” you roll your eyes. 

“That’s what you’re going to be full of in a second—” 

“Oh my god—” and your laugh dies on your lips as he starts to tease your entrance with the head of his cock, “Toru,” you whine, as he watches your needy cunt flutter around nothing as he drags his length up and down your dripping hole, watching your releases mix, “please—” 

“So polite,” he hums, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, “now how can I refuse that?” and he begins to sink his length into your cunt, warm walls nearly pulling his cock in deeper, as he groans your name, “s’perfect, s’good for me, princess, made for me,” and inch by inch, until he’s finally bottoming out. 

“Toru, ngh, s’big—” you gasp, lips parted in a silent moan, as you pull him even closer, face buried in the crook of his neck, but his fingers tugging your hair to show your face. 

“Let me see you,” he murmurs, as his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss as he continues to thrust into you — his hips meeting yours, the wet squelch and skin slapping echoing in his ears. A gasp parting your lips as you pull apart, your head thrown back in a moan as your walls flutter around him as his tip breaches that one spot inside you. 

“Haa, I’m close, Toru,” you groan, and he’s nodding, his fingers reaching between your bodies to find your clit. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” and you do — cumming hard, as he notches himself deep inside you, before spilling inside you, his hot release deep in your pussy. He’s moaning your name, as your bodies slow and his fingers cup your cheek gently, and his lips find yours. 

He slowly rolls off of you, your warmth leaving him for a moment, before he’s pulling you close again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Is this a dream?” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut, and a small chuckle leaves his lips, legs entangled. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, “If it is, I hope I never wake up, Princess.” 

Your body aches — that’s your first thought as you stir into consciousness. Fuck, why does you feel so sore? Your eyes try to flutter open, but the sunlight blinds you — a soft groan leaves your lips. You shift, as you stretch, your back aching and muscles tight, but then someone moves behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist. 

Your eyes shoot open, as your head slowly turns to find looking at Satoru. A gasp is caught in your lips. 

Fuck, it was real.  

You slowly turn to face him, his soft breaths leaving his pink lips — god he’s so gorgeous. His pretty white eyelashes resting against his skin, lips parted ever so slightly, and his snowy hair askew and mussed. Your fingers ghost over his cheek lightly — how many people have seen him asleep like this? How many had seen him with his guard down? You knew he didn’t sleep nearly enough, you were surprised he was still asleep — but, your cheeks burned, you both did spend half the night awake. 

But there were more pressing things to think about — what did this mean? You chew on your bottom lip, he had said he wanted you — but what did he want? Just last night? Or something more. 

“I can’t sleep with your thoughts grinding so much,” he mumbles, heat rushing to your cheeks, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, “why are you awake so early?” His nose brushes against your neck, his lips pressing softly against your pulse. 

“I just woke up,” you murmur, a small shiver running up your spine, as you relax into his touch, your fingers running through his soft locks, “did all my thinking wake you?” 

“Yes, and you’ll have to compensate me,” and you snort. 

“You’re rich, like old money rich,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your skin, heat climbing up your body. 

“Money isn’t what I want,” he nuzzles you, nose brushing against the skin of your neck, “wonder what other ways you can repay me,” 

You chuckle, humming at his touch — god even the simplest of touches has your logic up in ash, “I’m sure you can figure out some other methods of payment,” 

And his lips find yours again — it’s a lazy morning kiss, soft and slow, but not bereft of any of the passion from the night before. His fingers slide down your body, as he pulls you impossibly closer. 

“My preferred method of payment wouldn’t have us leaving this room until tomorrow morning,” his lips curl in a smirk, “but I’ll collect my charge tonight — how about I make us breakfast?” 

“You can make breakfast?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“I know how to scramble an egg,” he shrugs, and you snort only for him to pout, and you smile, your fingers brushing against his cheek, before your thumb runs down his lips. 

“How about we make breakfast together?” 

“Was that really your first time making tamagoyaki?” you raise an eyebrow, as you pick up a piece of the rolled omelet between your chopsticks.

“Promise,” and you bite it — it was perfect — the texture, the taste, the seasoning. And you stare at him, an eyebrow raised. 

“Either you’re lying or you really are good at everything,” you mutter, and he grins, as he takes a bite of his food — a sweeter tamagoyaki he had made for himself, far too smug for his own good. 

“I think I proved that last night, Princess,” and you nearly choke on your food. And you chew thoughtfully — you two hadn’t even breached what last night meant yet. You had simply been dancing around it, or at least you had. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up — or rather, you picked up another piece of tamagoyaki up, you didn’t know how to, “what’s going on in that head of yours?” 

And your eyes snap up, “What do you mean?” 

He tilts his head, “You’re not hard to read — you keep thinking about something,” and his lips curl, “last night?” Your hesitation gives you away — and he only smiles wider, “should I refresh your memory?” And your cheeks are burning, and he chuckles, “come on, sweetheart, let’s just talk,” 

You bite your lip — you needed to do this, you couldn’t run away from how you felt, not again  — your fingers fidgeting with your chopsticks, before you place them down on your bowl, “What did last night mean?” 

And his lips curl, but this smile he has is softer, “What do you think sweetheart? Do you think I’m really the—“ And his phone rings, and he picks up his phone, eyes flickering to the caller, and you wave him off, “you can take the call,”

He sighs, “One second,” he gets up to speak, and he hangs up a few minutes later, “text me a location,” 

“Who was that?” And he’s shaking his head, a sigh on his lips, his hand on the back of his neck. 

“The ever breathing and ever irritating geezers want me to meet them to speak about something involving the clan,” he meets your gaze, a flicker of an emotion in his eyes — a drop of water that disappears into the sea as quickly as it formed, “and it’s a good opportunity for me to discuss something I have been wanting to speak with them about,” 

“Something?” and his lips quirk in a small smile. 

“I’ll be back soon enough to explain, sweetheart,” he walks over to you, “will you wait here for me? Think I’ll be able to come back faster if I know you’re here waiting for me,” 

And you can’t help the small flutter your treacherous heart gives, “The great Satoru Gojo will rush for me?” 

“Oh, he would rush day and night if it meant he could come home to you,” and his fingers find your cheek, drawn like a magnet — why was it you could never look away from him? Even in a crowd, your eyes always found his gaze. 

And you’d go to him — like a moth to a flame, “I think I’d prefer just Satoru,” you lean into his touch, your hand over his, “I do owe him after all,” 

“You do,” he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before he’s pulling away, a smile on his lips, “consider that a deposit.” 

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. 

Alone in Satoru’s place — you didn’t know what to do with yourself. He had left right after breakfast, and he told you where the TV was, books, and told you could order anything or use anything you needed. But, this place was so him — each place you went, there was just another reminder of him that seemed trail after you, but at the same time, without him, it was like a shell of a place — no soul present. 

And you supposed the soul wasn’t present. 

You ended up back in the bedroom, crawling back under the covers. Fuck, they even smelled of him — you squeezed your eyes shut.

You really didn’t know what you were doing — did you? 

You laid on your back. What were you supposed to make of what happened last night and this morning for that matter? Was this real now? A real relationship with Satoru — you turned over on your stomach, pulling the covers over your head — you could barely imagine it. 

And your phone goes off, as you reach for it blindly on the nightstand. But it wasn’t the white haired sorcerer you hoped it was — your eyebrows knit together — at least you didn’t think it was. A text from a number you don’t recognize — and a picture to top it off from the preview. 

You nearly deleted it — only to spot a familiar mop of white in the picture. 

Your blood runs cold at the sight. Satoru? He was at a restaurant with — a woman? You didn’t recognize her, but his hand held hers, picture taken mid laugh. Your cheeks burn — no, no — there had to be an explanation. 

A text now — Want to see what your boyfriend does in his spare time? Is he done using you now? 

There’s only one person who’d text like that. 

Naoya, how fuck did you even get this picture? You stare at the photo — have you fallen so far in your clan that you have the time to stalk Satoru now? 

He replied, it��s not my fault that they are dining in a Zenin owned business. 

Another picture — Satoru and her were hugging, his arm around her waist, far too close to be friendly. 

You don’t think — you call him. It rings and rings, but no answer — the cut to voicemail makes your heart sink. 

Another text — even if you don’t believe me, do you think this will be the last of your problems? When you’re Satoru Gojo, anyone close to you will have a target on their back — if only to use your blood to paint one on his head. 

You knew you couldn’t trust this. You knew there was an explanation. You knew Satoru wouldn’t do this to you. 

But even still, you wished you could tell your heart that. 

“What is this?” Satoru was led to a table at the restaurant the old geezers had chosen — but there were no wrinkly old cranks in sight. Instead, there was a woman. 

“Are you Satoru Gojo?” And he raises an eyebrow, hands sliding into his pockets. 

“The one and only, now I don’t suppose the old fools of the Gojo clan turned into a woman — so who are you?” She swirls the glass in her hand, before downing the liquid in one go. 

“Figures they had to lie to get you here — seems like we’ve been set up,” she gestures to the chair in front of her, “I’m Airi,” and he takes a reluctant seat, “I was told this was a meeting for us to meet for a potential engagement,” and he scoffs, he should have figured it was something like this, “but judging by the look on your face, you didn’t know that,” 

“I was expecting to meet 

I suppose we’re on the same page,” 

He tilts his head, “Really?” 

“Gojo, you may be a catch, but to me, you’re nothing more than a potential knife to my neck,” she places her glass down, leaning back in her chair, “and plus, I have someone I’m interested in,” and her eyes slide down, “and judging by the bite mark on your neck, you do too,” 

He pays it no mind, a laugh leaving his lips at the thought of you waiting for him at his apartment, “I do,” and he sighs, pushing his chair out, before getting to his feet. “and I have to get back to her,” 

She follows suit pushing out her own chair, rising, a waiter walking by, and she trips. It’s a reflex, he catches her by the wrist and by the waist, steadying her. 

“Sorry,” she pulls away immediately, looking back for the waiter, before biting her tongue, “fucking waiter tripped me,” the two of them glance around, but see no one, “I’ll have to talk to my grandfather’s advisors about this. No one trips the granddaughter of Naobito Zenin,” she mutters, and Satoru’s eyes snap to her. 

“You’re a Zenin?” And it clicks, the wedding, “who arranged this meeting?” 

She tilts her head, “My father, but he heard about this from my cousin, Naoya—“ 

He checks his phone — and he sees a missed call from you. 

Fuck. It was a set-up — in both ways. 

“I have to go,” and he can only hope you wouldn’t do the same to him when he came back. 

Satoru calls you, but you don’t pick up. You can’t bring yourself to stare back at the photo he had set as his contact photo — the picture Yuta had taken of him clutching at his phone with your picture on his screen. 

You needed to talk to him in person. 

And it’s not long before he’s back home — practically teleporting at your feet. 

You swear, stumbling and he grabs you, tugging you close, “Got you,” he smiles, tugging off his blindfold for you to see his eyes — the startling blue that you still couldn’t navigate without drowning in its depths, “does that mean I can keep you?” and you want to pull away, you want to run, but you can’t help but melt into his touch, your fingers gently clutching at the front of his shirt. 

“That depends on whether I’m the only person you’ve said that to,” and you look up at him, his brow furrowed, “and held like this,” 

“The meeting today, it was supposed to be with the elders — I was going to discuss our relationship again but—“ you show him the pictures on your phone, and his brow knit together, “how did you—“ and he doesn’t finish his sentence before he realizes, “it was a set-up,” 

“I know,” and relief washes over features for a moment, but your eyes can’t meet his, your lips a thin line. 

And he glances at the photo again, seeing the one where he’s holding Airi, “She tripped, sweetheart, trust me—“ his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “I don’t want to hold anyone but you,” 

“I know Naoya and the Gojo clan probably set this up,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, “but—” you pull away from him, every step away from him a fissure in the foundation of this bridge built, “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” 

And he’s blinking, “Why?” 

“I’m not good enough,” you’re shaking your head, stepping back as he steps forward, “I hurt you by leaving, and I was this close to doing it again—” 

“But you didn’t—” 

“And your clan doesn’t want us together, and I don’t know, I feel even if we’re together,” the words that leave your lips break your heart and his, we’ll only hurt each other in the end,” 

“Why do you always push me away when we get close?” 

“No I don’t—” 

“You don’t think the sorcerer that’s an expert at pushing others away — wouldn’t know if he’s getting pushed away?” 

“This isn’t working out,” you cut him off, as the slice cuts through thin air — but it’s not your head that goes rolling — it’s his heart, “we should stop — I think your clan has been convinced,”

He’s silent for a moment, before he replies, “well, I haven’t been convinced,” 

You scoff, his hands by his side, as his quiet footsteps approach you, “convinced of what?” 

“Convinced that,” he stops in front of you, “you don’t feel the same way I do,” Your breath catches, as his fingers find your cheek, “all these years, sweetheart, and you didn’t know?” 

“But,” you can’t process this, it doesn’t make sense, “but Suguru—“ 

“Was important to me yes,” he murmurs, “but it’s been years, and it doesn’t mean I can’t have deep feelings for someone else — especially when I’ve had them for over a decade,” 

“You—“ was this real? As he stood before you, in his living room low lights, sunlight streaming in from his windows, “what?” 

He laughs, “Didn’t know it was possible to render you speechless, sweetheart — guess there’s a first time for everything,” he steps over your missteps with the same ease he does everything, “I really do have to spell everything out for you, don’t I?” The back of his fingers ghost over your cheek, “I’m in love with you—“ 

“No,” you’re shaking your head, and his face falls, “Satoru, we can’t—“ 

“But—“ 

“Your clan doesn’t approve of me, they won’t stop trying to break us up, and I could put you in danger,” you murmur, “they could use me against you — just like Suguru did,” you couldn’t bear the thought of that, “and is that worth it? Worth it for something that may not be real?” You ask the question you’re afraid of asking him — of asking yourself — “was it ever real?” 

And he’s still trying to reach for you, despite it all — he knows it’s dangerous to be around him, he knows anyone close to him is in danger — and that’s why he was okay when you left. If only you’d be safe — but he knew that if he always played it safe, he would never be happy, “It’s real to me,” 

“It’s not to me,” you turn towards the door, “I’m sorry.” 

And this time he doesn’t stop you. 

It’s for the best. 

That’s what you tell yourself. The same thing you say when you’re leaving his place. The same thing you say the next morning you wake up with only a pain in your chest and a dull ache in your head. The same thing when you accept a long mission overseas. 

It was for the best. 

Then why — then why did you think of him? Each and every day, every minute, every second. But it was for the best. He was safer without you, it was easier without you, it was better — better and yet each day seemed to drag when you couldn’t talk to him. And your notes were filled with unsent texts to him — and your mind was filled with nothing but memories. 

And you couldn’t touch memories nor could you talk to them. 

Several months later, you’re sitting in a plane, watching the animation of the plane fly back towards Tokyo. You had been checking in with Yaga several times a month, but you hadn’t heard a thing from Satoru. 

Or rather, Gojo. Not that you expected to — not after what you did. 

And soon enough, you’re arriving home — heading inside your home to find a bunch of your mail had fallen out of your mailbox, knocked out of the rickety box from the storm the night before. You pick up the drenched mail between two fingers that was stuck to the sides of your walls, as you fumble with your keys to open the door. Your suitcase and mail fall to the fall as you close the door behind you, sighing. 

Fuck. You were home. 

You dragged your suitcase inside, picking up the mail off the floor. You collapsed on your couch, tossing the wet envelopes onto the table — when a name catches your eye. 

Gojo? 

You pick up an envelope — the frilly envelope doing nothing to protect the contents inside — you barely can make out any of the text, except the faint inked kanji of his name. 

You gingerly open the envelope, peeling out the insides — and your heart drops. 

Is this an invitation? The faint text was blurred and smudged from the rain — the contents all but faded and you could only make out three things — ““marriage,” today’s date, and bits and pieces of what you thought was an address. 

Satoru was…getting married? 

It felt like logic had fled your mind and panic took its place — as you looked up the parts of the address that you were able to decipher. And you found it — it was a popular venue not far from here. 

You didn’t think — you grabbed your keys and drove. 

You couldn’t let him get married, no, no — you had made a mistake when you left. You thought he was better off, you thought it was for the best — but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be when your chest hurt like this — felt as if your heart was splitting in two with a sword stuck between your ribs. It couldn’t be because you pushed him away because you were scared — scared of getting hurt again, scared of hurting him, scared of being with the only person you ever had loved. 

Basically, you pulled up to the venue, you were an idiot. 

You hadn’t changed, you hadn’t showered off your who knows how long of a flight, and now you were on the steps of a wedding venue that Satoru was getting married at. You froze before the doors. 

You couldn’t do this. He didn’t deserve to have his day ruined by you — not when you had ruined enough. If he had found someone else to spend his life with — whether it was arranged or not, he deserved to be happy. 

Even if it wasn’t with you. 

So you step down — walking off a distance to watch when the couple emerged — which judging by how dark it was and how staff were already almost done setting up — would be any minute now. 

So you wait. 

And finally when the doors swing open, you steel yourself — knowing it would do nothing, nothing to shield you from the pain of seeing—and your eyes find the groom. 

That wasn’t Satoru. 

He certainly had the white hair, but he did not have his blue eyes — he had a lovely bride regardless, who looked at him the way you had always looked at Satoru. Was that the look you had hidden away for so many years? And why were you still hiding? 

And your eyes find Satoru almost instantly — as fast as his eyes find you seemingly, as your name escapes his lips — as he parts through the crowd to your side. He’s wearing the other suit he had tried on — the white suit that had been your second favorite — his white locks parted and combed to the side, but still impossibly unkempt as they always were. 

“You got my invitation?” you blink, tilting your head. 

“But you—what?” and his brow furrows. 

“Don’t tell me you lost your ability to read and speak while overseas, princess,” and a small chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head, wringing your hands. 

“Satoru, the invitation was wet because of the rain, I thought—” your voice wavers, glancing away as your cheeks burn, “I thought you were getting married.” 

He raises an eyebrow, lips curling, “And you were about to burst in and object?” 

You roll your eyes, but even so you can’t meet his gaze,  “Satoru—” 

His smile only grows wider, “What were you going to say? A passionate speech about how you’re still—” And you’re tugging him close by the collar, and his breath catches, your name leaving his lips. 

“I’m in love with you, Satoru,” your voice is steady as you speak, your hand sliding to his cheek, “I always have been — I was just afraid to admit it, I didn’t want to hurt you — whether it was by my own hand or not,” and his brow furrows, but you continue, “but I’m not scared anymore — because it hurts more to be nothing than something with you—” 

And his lips find yours. It’s everything you want — because it's him, he’s everything you’d ever wanted, and everything you’d ever want. You want the way his arm slides around your waist to pull you closer, you want the way his hand cups your cheek, you want the way his lips smile against yours, and you’d want his past, present, and future. And you’d do anything to keep it. 

“Promise you’ll never leave like that again?” he murmurs, his arm tightening around your waist as he says the words, his forehead pressed against yours, “I already have abandonment issues,” and you chuckle, your fingers finding his cheek. 

“I promise,” you murmur, “I’m sorry I left — both times I left, and there won’t ever be a third,” 

And he smiles, “You proposing to me, sweetheart? I’m not one to rush into things, gotta take me out on a proper date first,” 

“How about tonight?” you find his lips again, the taste of sugar on his lips — undoubtedly from indulging in a slice or several of wedding cake. 

“So soon?” he hums,and his gaze softens, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “someone’s eager,” and your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his, as you would a million times more,

“Well, you don’t know until you try.” 

✧ a/n: ahhh another celebration fic done!! this one was lowkey a struggle towards the end so i hope this turned out okay. it's beyond me understanding if it did or not lmao. i hope you guys enjoy ahhh -- gotta probably put up a poll to decide the next celebration fic this weekend :) (it's only because i'm horribly indecisive).

✧ taglist: @yunjinabla, @weluvsza, @yamaguccitadashi, @gojobbg, @soulofoz, @hfdkhjghjkghfj, @forest-fruits-jam, @cerene-dipity, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @reaperxdeath, @octopishisahybridanimal, @hanlay, @whereflowerswenttodie, @tsukimefuku, @numbing3scapism, @arcswonderland, @kirashuu, @fushitoru, @spider-fan72, @jayathelostdragon, @sunflowmaryam, @satorusmochis, @catsgomurp, @simply-a-s1mp, @kentocalls, @weluvsza, @lucy-xv0202, @mazzd4, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz

[allertononfilm]

Prompt 14 with bsf! Rafe if you haven’t already

((i'm gonna guess this is from list A because that makes the most sense lolol apologies if it wasn't)) hope you enjoy!!

prompts: "Just please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to."

content warnings: 18+ MDNI, original afab!reader, bsf!rafe, angsty af but super fluffy at the end!!

500 follower celebration! (CLOSED)

"Rafe, you're, like, the last person I want to see right now," you huff in frustration as he follows you into an empty room, shutting the door behind him so your argument didn't get broadcast to the rest of the gathering.

"Why? What the fuck did I do?" He counters.

It was like déjà vu at this point. You'd shown up to another Kook rager with your latest boyfriend—which was usually someone you hadn't been together with for more than a few months. You were drunk. And your best friend, Rafe Cameron, had overstepped once again.

"Are you kidding?" You scoff. "No man ever sticks around with me because you can't mind your own business."

"You're being dramatic," he accuses.

"No, you're dramatic." You exasperate back.

At first, it was sweet. The way he'd protect you from other boys from getting too close when you were growing up, concluding it was just his territorial nature. That he didn't want to share you with anyone else, including platonically. But the older you got, the more hostile and dismissive he became towards the guys you went out with.

"So, what? Do you want me to stop? Watch these guys walk all over you and not say anything about it?" He interrogates.

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"You sit there and act ignorant like that isn't exactly what you want me to do. You know you love it," he rants defensively.

"Yes, Rafe. Of course I love you. But I-"

The tension that rose between you two could be cut with a knife. Neither of you spoke immediately as the gravity of the situation sunk in instead. You knew Rafe had caught it though from the way he stared at you with a curious glint, almost like he was amused by the admission.

"I didn't mean it like that," you quickly deny, not phasing him at all.

"You love me?" He repeats slowly, stretching each word as he said it.

"I'm drunk. Can you just drop it?" You plead desperately.

"But you love me," he taunts playfully.

"I can't do this right now," you protest, feeling like you were living your worst nightmare. "Can you just please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to?"

Your head was pounding as the realization of everything settled, unable to meet Rafe's eyes due to your crippling humiliation. It's not that this was news to you—you'd always loved him as a friend, but you realized it might've been something more as time went on. You'd also spent years pushing it down because you knew him... This was Rafe, for God's sake.

It's not like he'd made his affinity for the pretty girls around the island a secret. Like he'd gotten familiar with yours, you learned precisely what 'his type' was and how you were definitely the complete opposite of that. So instead of actually swallowing your pride and bringing it up to him, you buried it away because you'd never dream of jeopardizing the simple rapport you'd always had.

"Uh, are you serious? Or just fucking around?" He studies, his tone not as teasing as it was right after your declaration.

"I said I wasn't getting into it-"

"Answer the question," he interjects, watching you with a hopeful expression.

"I... You know I don't fuck around when it comes to you, Rafe," you disclose, still avoiding his gaze.

"Why wouldn't you say something sooner?" He investigates, not expecting that to be his first question.

"Because I wasn't going to put that on you and make our relationship awkward," you continue to justify.

"Is that what you think would've happened? That it would've been awkward?" He examines.

"That's why I never brought it up. I never wanted to risk our friendship because of a stupid crush," you recount dismissively.

"Hold on-"

"And it's not like it was a big deal anyway, but I don't want you to feel like you're obligated or something..." you ramble, not realizing that you'd cut him off.

"Stop," he interrupts, turning your attention to see he was looking at you fondly. "Did you ever consider that maybe I felt the same way? I mean, you said it yourself. No one sticks around because I insert myself into all your shit."

"You did that on purpose?" You finally register, unsure how you hadn't picked that up before now.

"Of course I did it on purpose," he smirks mischievously.

"Why do I even stick around?" You grumble, feeling as if you were dealing with a toddler instead of a grown-ass man.

"Because you love me," he drawls, wrapping his arms around you and resting his forehead on yours. "Not really complaining though. Gotta say I'm pretty fond of you too." He reveals, capturing your lips with his in a tender kiss.

[yournightmary]

i need bsf!ellie whos secretly inlove with reader.. maybe even childhood bestfriend!ellie RAAAA i will preach the friends to lovers agenda till i die!

Bsf!Ellie HCs

content warning:: fem!reader, jealous!Ellie maybe?, modern!AU, mentions of drinking and smoking

AN:: Friends to lovers is so underrated.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’s the type of friend to jokingly call you her wife/girlfriend. Probably has your contact saved as ‘my wife💍’ or something similar.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’s always very cuddly and clingy. Cuddles you to sleep during sleepovers… that’s just what good friends do, right?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She was such a loser when she was younger oh my gooddd. Her first kiss was you when you both decided to ‘practice’ kissing as friends. Totally did not feel butterflies in her stomach and her heart didn’t ache, what are you taking about?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I can see her not really knowing that she was in love with you, you know what I mean? Like, she’d think that you’re just her platonic soulmate- that’s why she feels the best when she’s around you… and why she gets jealous whenever you start getting along with other people.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Made the mistake of being jokingly flirty at first and then you mistook each and every one of her attempts as just her being her usual silly self.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Buys you valentines gifts and says that that’s just what best friends do.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Definitely the type of person to force herself to date someone just so she could take her mind off of you. She couldn’t.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Maybe like a cat and mouse sort of situation. Like you’d get into a relationship with someone so she’d start looking too, but then once she gets into a relationship you’d break up yours. Am I making sense?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Probably did some stupid shit just to impress you when you were younger. Always ended up with bruises and tons of scratches, maybe even detention or getting grounded.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Jokes about you guys getting married if you don’t find anyone before turning 30. Then gets happy like an idiot when you agree.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Slept over at your place so much when you were younger that your parents started giving her chores and inviting her to family vacations. When you got older it turned into her having her own drawer of clothes and helping you out with every single task you do. Going grocery shopping? She’ll tag along. You have to fill out some important paperwork somewhere? Yeah, she can come with you.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I have a teeny tiny feeling that’s she’d try to sabotage your dates. You’d be at a restaurant with this new person you met and she’d call all panicked and upset about something, saying how you need to come see her right now. And you’re her best friend, so of course you’re muttering apologies to your date and leaving immediately.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Most of the people that aren’t your friends think you’re dating. Then when you tell them you’re just friends they’re like ‘righhhhttt…’ (no one believes it)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ In high school she told people you already have a prom date (you didn’t) just so they wouldn’t ask you. Then she’d swoop in and say that you should go as friends, since you both didn’t have a date.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’d compare herself to all the people you’ve dated all the time. And if you’ve never been in a relationship she’d do the same with your crushes, celebrity or not.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Loves to have multiple days sleepovers because it kind of feels like you’re a happy couple living together.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ FOR SURE would read articles like ‘How to tell if your best friend is in love with you’ when she was younger. Sprinkle in some ‘How to tell if someone’s gay’ if you’re feeling like it.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Asked you to fake date in early high school because ‘some guy kept bothering her’ (he did not wtf)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You were with her every time she did something for the first time. When she got her first period, when she first drove a car, when she first smoked and drunk alcohol, when she had her first kiss… maybe even more. That’s what best friends are for, am I right?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’d say she likes someone and when you asked about it she’d do the whole ‘You know this person really well’ thing OH MY GODDD.

I love women

[violettavonviolet]

Spideytorch fic rec list

hey guys, as promised spideytorch is next! Those two idiots are very dear to my heart and I think I've found some gems! Do send the authors some love if you end up reading some <3. All fics are complete, the word count goes up as you scroll and mind the tags before you read!

Caught on Candid Camera

Traincat

Summary:

“You have ten seconds to tell me what’s wrong,” Peter said, picking up the strangely bubbling beaker. His spider-sense stayed silent, thankfully, but his science-sense was giving him a headache. 

“Aren’t you around kids?” Johnny said. “I shouldn’t be telling you this if you’re around kids.”

“Six… five... four…” Peter said.

“It’s just,” Johnny said breathlessly, “did you know that there are webcams on the Statue of Liberty now?”

Peter dropped the beaker.

5k, mature

teenager in love

orangejoose

Summary:

Johnny groaned exaggeratedly. Then he leaned in close to Spidey, narrowing his eyes. “Are you like super ugly or something? Oh my god! You actually have eight eyes! Or fangs?? You have fangs! Or… no nose! Like Voldemort! No, wait… that's a snake thing.”

Spidey laughed, and Johnny’s heart leaped at the sound, but he quickly kicked himself internally. Nope. No. Johnny was sixteen, and he had no idea how old Spidey was. Early twenties at the youngest, but no. No way. That could not happen.

6k secret identity, gen

Kind, Sober, and Fully Dressed

Traincat

Summary:

"Pete, my man, my completely platonic best bro," he muttered to himself in the voice he reserved solely for mocking Johnny Storm. "Come over and watch my maybe sex tape! Fun times! Just two guys hanging out -" he slammed the bathroom door maybe a little harder than necessary "- watching the one guy's celebrity sex tape! Good clean fun!"

Mrs. Moretti downstairs banged on her ceiling with a broom.

Everything was coming up Parker tonight.

--

Or, in which Peter proves himself tragically unable to take a hint. Post-Amazing Spider-Man Digital #17, aka the time Johnny asked Peter to watch his sex tape.

8k miscommunication, mature

stranger danger

animosities

Summary:

pete

is this a bad time to ask who this is??

Hothead

Is this not Grindr Peter?

pete

nope

Hothead

Ahhh fuck

Sorry for the unsolicited dick pic

pete

that’s alright, ive seen worse

--

In which Johnny gets a username wrong, Peter gets a dick pic, and MJ gets a headache just thinking about the situation.

10k no powers teen

All That We Were

paramountie

Summary:

“What do you think the deal is anyway?” Peter asks. “My money’s on dreamscape.”

“Twenty bucks says it’s an alternate universe.”

“Nuh-uh, pal. It’s a dream for sure. Or a nightmare.”

10k alternate universe, gen

Better in Picture

weekend_conspiracy_theorist

Summary:

In which Peter Parker has no interest in sleeping with Matt Murdock, no matter what anyone seems to think.

12k teen and up

Weaving Spiders Come Not Here

Mizzy

Summary:

People are treating Peter oddly. Really oddly.

It turns out they're being nice to him because they think his boyfriend cheated on him.

…with Spider-Man.

It's honestly quite tiring pretending to be jealous of yourself.

13k secret identity, teen

Always Glad You Came

aloneintherain

Summary:

Spider-Man is a relatively new, controversial vigilante, and Johnny has a crush the size of the Empire Building. The Four - operating under the assumption that Spidey is an adult - do not approve.

“I just happen to think Spider-Man's cool,” Johnny says, matter-of-factly. “A hero can think another hero is cool without making it weird. I admire his aloofness. And his badass-ness.”

“His aloofness,” Ben repeats, chuckling into his mug of beer. It’s roughly the size of Johnny’s head. “Yeah, sure, I bet that’s all your admire, right?”

13k secret identity teen

Six of Swords

Traincat

Summary:

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Reed said. “From what I’m seeing currently -- I’m afraid the condition might be permanent.”

“Hm,” Peter said. He drummed his fingers – six hands’ worth of them – on the table top, considering Reed’s words carefully. “Nah.”

“Excuse me?” Reed said.

“No,” Peter said. “Because see, I’ve done this whole rodeo before, and this? This is not permanent.”

“You’ve had six arms before,” Reed said, slowly, as if that was the weirdest thing he’d ever heard in their business. As if Peter hadn’t passed Doctor Doom out in the hallway walking in here.

“He did,” Johnny filled in helpfully. “In college. Or anyway that’s what he told me this one time when we were looking for vampires.”

--

Peter is transformed back into a six-armed Spider-Man. Johnny sticks around.

14k six armed spidey, teen and up

Tied to the Wait and Sees

Mizzy

Summary:

Johnny Storm's in love. With Spider-man. Except no one seems to even believe Johnny when he tells them. Everyone thinks he's totally joking. What a buzzkill. Even his bff doesn't react supportively, which is rude, disrespectful, and completely awkward when Johnny walks into a time anomaly and wakes up in the future married not to his beloved Spider-man, but to Peter Parker.

Huh, no wonder Parker reacted so badly to the news.

14k, Time travel, teen

Eight Arms to Hold You

metaphoracle

Summary:

When Spider-Man’s best friend Johnny Storm asks him for help in tactfully declining a marriage proposal from the King of Atlantis, Namor the Sub-Mariner, the only solution is for him to volunteer Daily Bugle photographer Peter Parker to pretend to be dating Johnny at the Engagement Banquet in Atlantis. Sure, it’s technically lying to his best friend about who Peter Parker is, but the important thing is that Johnny won’t have to marry Namor, and if Peter gets some photographs of Atlantis to sell, what’s the harm? Peter thought the most difficult thing about this scenario was going to be making sure Johnny didn’t figure out Peter is actually Spider-Man. Having to pretend he wasn’t actually falling in love with his best friend never crossed his mind. 

Featuring fake relationships, forced (almost) marriages, identity porn, traditional Atlantean clothing, and amorous cephalopods.

15k fake relationship, teen and up

Say You Will, Say You Won't

Traincat

Summary:

Johnny Storm found him on a Friday afternoon, wearing the kind of beseeching look that filled Peter with dread.

“I need to ask you a favor,” he said.

“No,” Peter said, swinging away.

__

Peter and Johnny get married, really-not-really.

15k, pretend relationship, part of a series!!

My Gigantic Crush

lamujerarana

Summary:

Peter Parker has a problem. He's in love with his best friend, Johnny Storm. Well, he should really say Spider-Man's best friend, given that Johnny has no idea they're the same person.

16k identity porn, teen

New York Minute

Traincat

Summary:

“It’s just that, when whatever happened, happened, it’s like my senses have been dialed to eleven. There’s – there’s way too much input, so they just kind of help me focus.”

--

Johnny Storm, impossibly, helps Peter focus.

16k hurt/comfort, teen

No Dating Here!

lamujerarana

Summary:

Johnny has no idea what Reed, Ben, and Sue keep going on about. He doesn't have feelings for Spidey at all. He doesn't even know what the guy looks like. And he definitely would never date him.

Or, what starts off as everyone wrongly thinking Johnny's dating Spidey eventually leads to Johnny actually dating Spidey but pretending he isn't because he doesn't want to give his family the satisfaction of knowing they were right.

***

“You really aren’t going to admit that you’re dating him, are you?” Sue says incredulously. She taps her finger against that very incriminating photo in the tabloid. “You’re kissing him, baby brother, right here.”

“Kissing? Spidey? Me? I would never,” Johnny scoffs, right as he finishes making a date to meet Spidey later that night. “Not in a million years. I am way out of his league. I’m so far above him he can’t even see me.”

Spidey’s going to see plenty of Johnny later tonight, but Sue doesn’t need to know anything about that.

18k identity porn & secret relationship, teen

Tales From The Back Pages

Traincat

Summary:

Peter Parker was born with his words. Johnny Storm's been sure his will be said sarcastically since he was a child. Everything else more or less happens according to plan.

19k soulmates teen

Lightning in a Bottle

Gruoch

Summary:

Peter takes the tablet and looks down at the screen, where a picture of Spider-Man intimately entangled in a passionate embrace with Johnny Storm is displayed across the majority of the Daily Bugle’s home page. TORCH CAUGHT IN SPIDER-MAN’S WEB, the headline reads, bracketed by spider and flame emojis.

Peter looks back up at Tony, who is still staring at him completely stone-faced. 

Tony reaches across the island and taps the screen. “So. What do you have to say about that?”

“Well. For one, I’m a little disappointed with the headline,” Peter offers.

Tony lets his chin drop against his chest, momentarily defeated, before taking a deep breath and once more skewering Peter with a hard look. “You could have at least given me some warning that the two of you are...I mean, I had my suspicions, but—”

“You’re misconstruing the situation. Spider-Man and the Torch are dating,” Peter explains. “Johnny and I are just friends.”

“Boy, you’re really leaning hard into this whole alter ego thing, aren’t you?” Tony deadpans. “How’s that working out for you?”

20k idiots in love, teen

Black Magic, Love, and Other Unexplainable Sensations

gleesquid

Summary:

Once upon a time, a handsome prince needed a fearsome warrior's help to save the entire kingdom. Peter Parker is not entirely sure how he fits into this.

21k fairytale not rated

Play Pretend

Fernandidilly_yo

Summary:

When the city dubs the new vigilant with the name 'Spider-Man' no one questions it. Really it just leads to a lot of speculation of who the man underneath the mask is. 

Nobody would ever guess it's really a fifteen-year-old girl.

26k, fem peter, pre-relationship, gen

Five Times The Human Torch And Spider-Man Failed At Being Incognito, And The One Time They Didn't Even Try

Ademimo

Summary:

There is no better bonding experience than sneaking around together (or, alternatively, around each other) and utterly failing at it. 

In which Peter Parker and Johnny Storm :

- are not that talented at infiltration ;

- really need to sharpen their acting skills ;

- should not be categorized as subtle heroes ;

- should not be considered as talented at social interaction, either, for that matter ;

- and most importantly, see their relationship evolve over the years (it's not romantic, they're friends. Not that they don't wish for more, but the other just doesn't feel that way, okay ?)

OR : Five times the Human Torch and Spider-Man failed at being incognito, and the one time they didn't even try

28k friends to lovers, identity reveal, teen

Lost Without You

lamujerarana

Summary:

Johnny and Peter fall into a wormhole and are sent careening across the universe together. With no hope of rescue, they end up having to figure out their own way home, which isn't as easy as it sounds.

To make matters worse, Johnny's been in love with Peter for a long, long, long time. Nothing's happened ever because Peter doesn't seem too interested, but now Johnny's stuck alone in space with the guy of his dreams and a whole lot of feelings that just won't go away. 

***

Dammit. Johnny just wanted Peter to kiss him. Was it really too much to ask after years of selflessly saving the planet? Johnny deserved that much, universe.

Really he deserved all of the hot guys, gals, aliens, and so on kissing him that he wanted, and he only wanted Peter. He was being reasonable, universe, and yet you still couldn’t come through for him, could you?

Johnny found the universe very disappointing. He ranked it right near the top of his list of the most disappointing things he’d ever come across. Somewhere near The Matrix sequels and that pair of skinny jeans that had made him look anything but.

49k humor teen and up

Peter Parker's Guide to Secret Identities

coocoocachu

Summary:

“Oh wow, it’s the Human Torch, Johnny Storm.” MJ whispered to Peter. Peter just hummed back. Maybe it was a little childish to be upset but he totally had that thing with the weird mutant moth under control last night. Peter leaned against the wall while MJ milled around talking to people trying to figure out what the big scoop was here. ‘There always has to be a reason for an exclusive, Peter!’ she had said. Yeah, Peter thought, and the reason is Johnny Storm loves the attention. Peter fiddled with his camera. Action shots were more his thing, particularly somehow managing to take action selfies of himself as Spider-Man or a few of his supercharged enemies. Pictures of egotistical superhero’s shirtless? Not really his area.

94k identity reveal, teen and up

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

Lifeafterdeath Ship Kid: Vidal!

Created by @sarcosticsarcomere and I, he’s a revamped version of Goth in both appearance and personality, given that they are now the son of Life as well as Reaper and Geno

Concept art for their design:

Yes I know the art is mid but if I could commission my favorite artists all the time I would be drowning in over 20K of credit card debt lmao

Nicknames: V, Vivi, or Vi

Follows True Pacifist Reapertale, making V the youngest of their siblings Frisk (aka Mercy; Life’s child), Chara (aka Faith; Reaper’s child) and Asriel (aka Hope; Life’s child)

Pronouns: Masculine, V identifies as a He/Theyby

Sexuality: Fluid

Height as a teenager: Over 6 feet tall

Personality and some background info: Vidal is a soft-spoken, socially awkward guy. Doesn’t say much, but once they open up to someone and are comfortable around them V could excitedly ramble on and on about their special interests. They had trouble making friends growing up due to being the demigod son of two prominent gods. As a result, when they first met Palette Roller and TK, they went by the name Valeria to hide their identity and befriend the other young skeletons.

Fun facts:

V can do goat blep, shift his eyelights to resemble a goat’s eyes, goat bleat, goat scream, and freeze like a goat when frightened. As a child, V adored affectionate headbonks and would play fight frequently with their siblings and parents. For their goat Mom and goat brother, it was a delightful game. For everyone else, sore foreheads were a common occurrence

When angered, V’s eyelights morph into a goat’s eyes and take on a redder shades

Around 6-8 years old their horns and tail started to appear and grow.

When Vidal’s horns and tail grew out, they became clumsy due to constant struggle with their sense of balance. They’d become frustrated and give up on walking altogether and simply float. This lead to Lifeafterdeath using child leashes to hold onto their floating son while a grumpy V pouts with their arms crossed in the air like a huffy balloon.

They share Life’s passion for botany, inherited Geno’s love for astronomy, and mimic Reaper’s gothic aesthetic. However they are terrible with plants and kill every one they try to grow much to their dismay. They also often carry around a messenger bag for their scrapbook and journals to write about and press and preserve their favorite flora into.

Reaper preens V and their siblings and occasionally V will try and preen their friends or familial figures like Epic and Dream.

Palette Roller is Vidal’s best friend since they were young babybones. They’d often hangout together and when they learn about the other’s infamous parents, empathize and soon become inseparable.

Whenever they can’t be watched by one group’s parents, they are babysat by Epic, their “Bruhncle”. V adores Epic and enjoys wearing fingerless gloves and boots as a nod to him.

Vidal’s Fashion Aesthetic

Best described as gothic cottagecore, V’s color scheme consists of primarily white and black with some blue, green, and purple. Anything that has plants, a gothic motif, or celestial theme, V will wear. Sometimes V will have jewelry decorating their horns for special occasions like birthdays or holiday celebrations. Or when they’re trying to impress their crush xD

Vidal x Palette: Canon

When Vidal develops a crush on Palette, they don’t confess their feelings because they have no idea if their best friend even feels romantic feelings, least of all towards them. They’re very close, but Vidal can’t tell if it’s platonic or romantic.

Palette knows they care deeply about V but has no idea what kind of love it is. He’s unbothered by this. After all, his parents are all in a queerplatonic/romantic relationship (Hyperinsomnia; the romantic comes from Dream and Error’s relationship) and happy and committed. As long as V is in his life and they’re best friends forever he’s happy. Palette does experience attraction and think V is hot. Unlike V, Palette grew up in queerplatonic family, so romance isn’t something Palette has particularly experience in

They start dating before they confess their feelings, confusing everyone except Palette’s family xD At first glance it appears as though Palette is aggressively friend-zoning V the entire time when it isn't his intention.

Some bonus funny screenshots regarding Palette and V from Sarco and my talks the other day:

[forbiddenmoss]

I believe Emily is the type of person to give EVERYONE a valentine's day card/gift. When the new farmer arrives some of the local singles are quick to join in on this tradition.

Bachelorettes

Emily- Emily gives everyone a little something of valentine's day because everyone deserves to feel special! Emily also tries to make hand make each gift so everyone has their own personal little something. When working at the saloon paying attention to what little things people mention liking. Shane says it's getting colder when he walks to work? Knitted hat and scarf with little chickens on it. Leah keeps destroying her clothes with paint finner? Hand sewn apron with lots of pockets for tools. With the new farmer Emily would crochet a little guy. Maybe the farmers favourite animal maybe a magical creature from the area with a little hand written note wishing you a happy valentine's day.

Hailey- Hailey is not like Emily. You only get a gift of her if yous are very close and she likes you. But if she does you get the cutest little hamper basket. She spends a while online getting face masks and chocolates to match her gift aesthetic for you. Maybe even some matching pajamas for you both but unless yous are already dating she's adamant it's a pal-ntines gift honestly it's not like she like she has a crush on you or anything.

Abigail- I honestly believe Abigail, Sam and Sebastian would buy each other the most ridiculous gifts they can find and Abigail would be quick to rope you into it. But maybe with you she puts a little more thought into it a little card with some pun "your my boo" or "I think you are DEAD cute" and the gift would be heart felt but funny and personal to the two of you. Sebastian is the only one who notices her blushing as she gives you the gift.

Maru- doesn't understand the point of valentine's day. Especially after reading into the origins of the holiday. Besides the holiday is so commercialised it's lost all meaning. Even if dating or married maru would only celebrate the holiday of you wanted to. They really mean well and love you dearly but they show affection through actions not gifts.

Penny- penny LOVES valentines day she tries to give everyone a little card with a lovely message. Penny and Emily go around the village together giving gifts and cards for everyone. Even her lessons that day focus on self love and appreciating friends and family. Jaz and Vincent love it. After she has self care time. Self love. Now penny is really shy and it takes a lot of encouragement to to make your valentine's day card a little more special to express her feelings. I could see penny making a flower crown from wild flowers and giving it to you.

Leah- She's friends with Elliot so of course she feels the need to really express the type of love she feels for you. Platonic, romantic, aesthetic doesn't matter she'll embrace it and create a sculpture that expresses that. After her ex she is quite reluctant to express her feelings in a direct way especially when the holiday brings up so many bad memories. But letting go of her emotions through her craft feels good and since you inspired her it makes sense to give it to you. It's like her own secret confession.

Bachelors

Sam- Sam really likes the holiday especially finding the most ridiculous cringe gifts to give his friends! He is really excited when you join in the tradition and can't wait to give his friends their funny gifts. If he likes you romantically he actually really struggles choosing a gift for you. Nothing really feels right to give to you. Abigail and Sebastian were easy but you? He ends up asking his mum for advice Jodi realises he has a crush on you (wait till Caroline finds out her little boy has a crush). Jodi suggests he writes a song so it's more personal. He does this but when the day comes he gets a little embarrassed and puts the CD through your letter box. Sadly he didn't say who it was from let's hope you recognize him through his music!

Sebastian- Sebastian really enjoys the new addition to the group. It took him a while to feel comfortable around you but now he does he loves playing D&D with you he loves sneaking off to your farm to escape his family for a smoke. He really appreciates you so when valentine's day came around he was actually really excited to get you the most embarrassing gift he could think of. You want a big blanket with funny pictures of the four of you printed on it right?

Alex- Alex always gives his grandparents nice gifts to show he appreciates and loves them this year he has a person to buy for. You. When grandma Evelyn finds out she is over the moon and feels this is the perfect moment to pass on the family cookie recipe. The first batch come out edible but questionable and kinda heart shaped. If you squint. Alot. When George finds out he gives lots of dating advice. Doesn't matter if he likes you romantically or not he's getting THE TALK from George. Lucky Alex.

Elliot- oh lord. This man. If yous are just friends you get a beautiful poem expressing his appreciation of your friendship. He turns up at your door at sunrise so you can start your day knowing he cherishes your friendship and is so thankful you chose this farm to move to. It is really touching and the fresh coffee be brings is really appreciated too. If he is in love with you he would set up a candle lit picnic on the beach at sunset. Candles lit very fancy wine (or any beverage he knows you like) with lots of food to nibble on between chatting. When the sun starts to recite the poem expressing his deep love for you. His muse. His beloved.

Harvey- after maru pushing him to confess his feelings for you and Emily chatting about the valentine's day preparations he finally decides to express it. He doesn't go out of his way to find you he just bumps into you when on his daily walk and plucking up his courage gives you the card and tells you how he feels. How he appreciates you how he values you how he feels more confident when he's around you. If yous are dating or married he will prepare a healthy little breakfast hamper and take care of some things about the farm so you can take it easy and relax.

Shane- this guy. He has never celebrated valentine's day he says it's because he believes it's just for joja mart to sell lots of heart shaped crap. He knows this isn't true he just finds it easier to hate the holiday than to feel sad he doesn't have someone special to share it with. He spends valentine's day with jaz who paints his nails gets him to make lots of cards with her. He finds himself making one for you and when jaz sees you she gives you his card. He didn't realise jaz took that card he thought it went in the bin but now you have the card you were never ment to get. After than jaz drags both of you to pick flowers and make flower crowns. Sitting together amongst the flowers Shane realises jaz has left the two of you alone which leads to you giving Shane his card and starting a conversation Shane never knew he needed to have. Just ignore jaz peaking around a tree proud of her work.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Ookay this one is really really tooth rotting fluff level

Tadc x reader who just realized christmas is coming, and is freaking out with absolute glee and childlike wonder

TADC cast x reader who loves christmas!

AAAAAA im so so sorry i could have sworn i answered this but i guess i didnt??? i promise i didnt mean to leave this in the inbox this long on purpose i think i must have lost track of stuff </3 regardless, i hope you enjoy! admin must admit, asides from presents and the christmas tree, he doesnt do many holiday activities so... admin is underqualified for this but hes still gonna try! a lot of the character segments intertwine in this btw! like not in a "similar idea" thing but in a "they are actually overlapping and interacting with one another" way so !! side note unrelated to the post eheheheh the second batch of macarons have been piped! theyre now on the counter set out to dry, and ive got my ganaches out to get to room temperature so i can whip em up into a frosting :3

CAINE:

oh i just know that caine would lean hard into holiday stuff, plus i think he has the best sense of time in the digital world out of everyone.. plus he just seems like the kind of guy to celebrate all sorts of holidays, not just christmas! year round stuff, you know? not just winter... so you guys would likely team up and totally deck out the grounds to match the holiday spirit! sure caine on his own already puts in way too much effort decorating everything, he even makes it snow! but with you around he cranks it up to 11! lets just hope there arent any scrooges around, though.... also prepare yourself because he would definitely find a way to have christmas music play on loop in the background... somewhere... ambient music but its festive songs... i think caine is also the one responsible for most of the presents, since he can basically get most things with just a flick of his wrist! ooooo perhaps a date (platonic or romantic! up to you!) where you guys wrap the gifts together!

POMNI:

funny enough, while i usually think pomni would SUCK at cooking, i think she can make a mean hot coco. granted, hot coco and/or hot chocolate arent the hardest things to make, but... i dont know, its just different when she makes it... (recommendation from the admin, add a bit of cinnamon or nutmeg to your hot coco its a game changer frfr, this goes for a lot of chocolate stuff, actually. its like the chocolate-coffee effect but like. makes a different flavor profile. add a bit of nutmeg to your chocolate chip goodies. rn.)

anyways! pomni always keeps you supplied with hot coco, and honestly it benefits you both! keeps you nice and warm, plus its delicious; and it gives pomni something to do... i mean, its christmas... surely she can take it easy from trying to find the exit... just for the season... helps with her anxiety about the whole situation, you know? making digital food sure is weird, though...

RAGATHA:

as mentioned in gangles part, she joins you and gangle in helping making a skirt for the tree! keeping up with the idea of sewing things, i think she would also make stockings for everyone; leaving most of them blank so everyone can customize them however they like... but you and her get together to decorate your own together and just !! i just think thats sweet! depending on how soon caine starts putting the christmas stuff around, you and her might be able to make some ugly sweaters for yourselves! thats a christmas thing, right? oooo and they match.... OOOO YOU GUYS MAKE AN EXTRA LONG SCARF FOR YOU GUYS TO SHARE!!!! rolls around... she makes you mittens so you can go mess around in the snow caine put all over the grounds

JAX:

snowball fight. and i mean really intense once. in fact it wouldnt be too much of a stress to call it a snowball WAR! honestly jax might just be the type to put rocks in his snowballs.... but because this is meant to be nice and sweet, he wont... just this once, and because he feels TOO mean crushing your holiday spirit (even if your digital body would quickly recover from the possible injury...)

you guys make forts and go absolutely ham. the stuff ragatha had made for the two of you! i mean sure you guys cant succumb to hypothermia, buuuuuuuuuut being really painfully cold still sucks... but the sweaters help you guys stay out for longer to play! and you can perhaps ask pomni to make some hot coco

oh yes its all coming together

ooo perhaps you convince jax to make snow angels and snowmen with you... though, i think jax would make the snowmen purposefully unappealing... but maybe you think hes actually trying his best... oh you jolly little thing..

KINGER:

okay so i admit this one might be a stretch and its mostly because his robe already has the fur and he gives off grandpa energy (even though hes only 48 but hey some grandpas become grandpas young) but imagine somehow someway he dresses up as santa (and i say that loosely, his robe turns red and the fur turns a plain white), bonus if he wears a hat to tie in the entire look. while caine is the one getting the gifts and wrapping them, i like to think kinger would ask to be the one to put them under the tree at an ungodly hour. sweet man. chews

as for an interaction with the reader... hmm.. hes the last character im writing, everyone else already has their parts done... the one christmas activity i can think of that hasnt been taken yet is baking! honestly i can see him being a decent chef! maybe its the dad/granddad energy speaking to me again... perhaps its the admin projecting... buuuut imagine you two make shaped cookies togehter; stars, candy canes, trees, bells, ect... and you ice them together! sure they may not be the prettiest or look the most professional; but does that really matter when youre having fun? they still taste delicious!

ZOOBLE:

ok i get it, i tend to lean hard into the zooble being negative and/or unimpressed with things a liiiiiiiiittle too often, but again zooble doesnt strike me as the type to enjoy most holidays. they seem more of a halloween person to me, you know? though, i think that they would switch out their antennae for ones that resemble antlers more... or if they dont have those, they string lights up on them! all for you, just because they know how excited the holiday makes you. they dont care about many things, but they care about you... and if it means doing (harmless) things they normally wouldnt do, then so be it! dont expect them to get in on many holiday activities, though...

GANGLE:

you and her make decorations for the grounds and the giant digital tree caine put in the main common area! handmade ornaments, paper stars and snowflakes, things like that! you and gangle stay up take cutting each thing, applying the colors and the glitter and any small details.... dozens of times.... because caine chose a tree that was way too big than it needed to be.... oh you might have to have gangle on your shoulders so she can reach the higher points of the tree! sits and thinks.... ooouuuuuuuuugh you guys make a skirt for the tree together with the help of ragatha... little group activity... sobs...

[waywardprintmaker]

How I feel about this character

He is my blorbo and my horse plinko. He was also the first ever fanart piece I ever drew for Hogleg.

I got immediately excited when he first introduced himself as a Gaunt because I knew the background lore for them. I even ran to my friends to tell them about it (they had also just started the game at that time and I was the only one to pick a Slytherin character) but they didn't seem to care as much as me.

Despite that, at first I was more interested in Sebastian, because I'm basic. Ominis cemented himself as my fav only when I got into fanfiction. Then I drew several pieces of him being a small child and being in distress and I'm proud to say that's still my calling card.

All the people I ship romantically with this character Sebastian. And that's it, to be honest. At this point I have extensive headcanons about their relationship dynamic and I just cannot see him with anyone else. I do like to think he at one point had a celebrity crush on Isaac Cooper because of that one NPC line, but I don't think Isaac was even remotely aware of it and it could never have gone anywhere anyway.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I need more stuff with platonic Anne/Ominis like I need air. I know we like to think of Anne, Ominis and Sebastian as a trio, a matched set, but I think the Anne/Ominis and Ominis/Sebastian friendship dynamics were quite different. I like to Imagine Anne as more emotionally intelligent of the Sallow siblings, a trusted confidant, someone Ominis could tell things he couldn't tell Sebastian. Not yet. They would share inside jokes and gossip Sebastian wasn't always *in* on, but that's mostly because he wasn't interested, so there wouldn't be any jealousy. My other OTPs for Ominis are contradictory. Ominis/every iota of happiness he could get and Ominis/pain and misery. I want to see him hurt, I want to see him cry, but at the same time I want him to know everything will be alright. Does that make sense?

My unpopular opinion about this character

Honestly, I think most of my opinions about him are fairly popular. I suppose except one where I'm not only convinced he won't be having any children of his own, for various reasons, but also that he will probably die young. Tragically. He has those vibes to him.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. I really wanted him to high five Sebastian in the face at the end of the game.

[tequiilasunriise]

Random canonshipping headcanons because I’m invested in this crackship:

Instead of common petnames such as ‘babe’ or ‘darling’, Perrin affectionately calls Viola ‘shutterbug’ bc DUH meanwhile Viola gives me ‘my muse’ vibes but also ‘ma cherie’ because French™️

Viola’s lockscreen is a quick phone pic she took of Perrin’s intensely focused face as she’s about to take a photo of some passerby Santalune Forest Pokémon, but the best part is Viola’s vivillon being casually perched on Perrin’s head the entire time kinda like a comically oversized bow

What can I say when you’re a Pokémon photographer you get used to staying extremely still as not to spook your subject, and sometimes you just get used to becoming a perch fer wild Pokémon who mistake you as a funky looking tree

In this case Viola’s ace just really likes to vibe with her trainer’s girlfriend and Perrin is more than happy with the arrangement even if she doesn’t notice the giant butterfly perched on her half of the time because yeah she’s just used to being a makeshift tree fer randomass mons

Perrin’s lockscreen is a photo she took on her camera of a victorious Viola leaping with joy and a jubilant sparkle in her eye after a hard fought gym battle against a tough opponent she had narrowly beat, the vibrant gym leader celebrating with her vivillon is defo one of Perrin’s favorite pics ever

Yes Perrin loves to photograph Pokémon, but her gym leader girlfriend in action is a very, very close second when it comes to favorite subjects

When it comes to how they met in the first place, I like to think Perrin travels around the world photographing a variety of Pokémon, and when she heard of a Kalosian gym leader who was also a Pokémon photographer specializing in bug types girly just had to visit the region and check her work out

They met in a gallery showcasing Viola’s latest collection of photos, and hit it off real quick with their shared love of capturing the hearts of Pokémon in a single snap (infodumping to each other bout their fave photographers, techniques, praising the other’s work, etc etc)

You know inside jokes with the homies that require seven layers of context and a highly specific sense of humor? Besides a love Pokémon photography itself, Perrin and Viola bond over photographer memes that only they understand like anyone who would overhear the conversation would be so fucking confused

Like, their Pokégram dms are just filled with spamming the other really niche photographer memes/reels because meme spamming is its own love language

Need Viola taking Perrin as her plus one to some Kalos Pokémon League event and Perrin to make some obscure reference that sends the bug type specialist giggling and Korrina leans over to Grant to playfully stage whisper, “Damn, you never made her laugh like that when you two were dating” and Grant would roll his eyes as he goodnaturedly shoves off Korrina and mutter something about weird photographer humor

Grant and Viola as besties who tried dating but found they were better as homies and Grant wingmanning Viola when she was mad crushing on this traveling photographer can I get an amennnnn

Jokes on her while Viola was meticulously planning how she’s going to rizz up this baddie with box dye, Perrin thought they were already dating and Viola preferred to take it slow because useless sapphics <3333

When they’re OFFICIALLY dating not much really changes between the two expect more physical affection (smoochies!!) because ah yes Viola, her calling you all these sweet nicknames and consistently ‘hanging out’ with you all alone at Kalos’ most famous romantic spots is soooo normal gal pal behavior mhm yeah y’all dressing up all cute and stylish to go cafe hopping around Lumiose City was soooo platonic

Perrin and several of Viola’s friends tease the HELL outta her fer this fer pretty much the rest of time but hey!!! Now that the air is cleared, Perrin turns up the blatant flirtiness with her official girlfriend now that she knows Viola is comfortable with going not so slow so to speak >:)))

Rip Santalune City’s gym leader girly got that raging gay panic on a daily basis now

There’s tons of long distance girlfriends shenanigans because Viola has to consistently stay in Kalos to run her gym while Perrin continues her travels, this leads to timezone shenanigans where it’s like three am fer one of them and the other is just casually grabbing brunch but it’s finnneeee gods knows the gays don’t need sleep

Ruining your circadian rhythm fer your gay lover is also a love language guys trust trust trust

Assuming they met and started dating pre-Kalos game events, imagine it’s a videocall that’s like:

“Shutterbug, hey, um, why does every news station say Kalos was hit with a huge mega death ray?”

“Oh yeahhh don’t worry about it the whole thing got resolved by that super tough challenger I told you about a few weeks ago, anyways LOOK at this gorgeous Volcorona I was so lucky to meet today!”

“Viola please- wait those wings are so glossy wow the trainer must be taking such good care of them.”

Perrin says she’s not sure how a single kid can singlehandedly save the whole region from certain doom mixed with legendary Pokémon, the events of the DLC go down (whatever they may be), and then she calls Viola with a, “…okay, okay yeah I get it now.”

Anyways that’s all I got fer now if I decide to make a part two list then yiipppeeeee I love getting invested in total crackships

[castlebyersafterdark]

it’s hard to know anymore if that legit means he’s bi or it’s just the younger gens comfort with acknowledging you can “crush” on someone, especially a cool celebrity or character in media, without like being sexually attracted to them if that makes sense? it makes sense to me as someone who is asexual LOL like I think it’s actually totally normal to have like platonic crushes so for me it’s hard to know what he means soecifically by that but if he did casually come out there then awesome! I guess I am cautious with stuff like this bc I remember that actor dude from supernatural (_a show i’ve never watched but know way too much about it due to tumblr lol) like highkey coming out as bi in a way that i’m sorry, could not have been misinterpreted, and then awkwardly walking it right back when everyone got excited which…. feels right on par with everything to do with that cursed show lol

Yeah that's my hesitation, too, not that I'm looking to dispute him being bi - but I've seen this before. Hahaha I barely know much about supernatural other than what tumblr tells me but I thought of that guy with this instance. Though, he literally said the word bisexual though I think so 🙄 I think maybe it's a "secure in his sexuality light hearted joke" or a casual bisexual nod because it's truly not something he feels he needs to formally acknowledge. No clue. Hope people are chill about it either way! I mean, I'm as gay as you can get but sometimes when I'm describing a singer or actress I love it can be very - are you? Well, yeah! You can think someone is super hot and not be "attracted" to them at all, you know? Not sure that's the case with the Gaten line, but still. Perspective. Would be cool if he was because what a cast if so!

Would be hilarious if Caleb had inclinations as well and then the extended party are all shades of queer in some way excepting mbb and she's the one already married 🤭

[thedragonagelesbian]

@tuxedo-rabbit replied to your post “head in hands...”:

Oh. I am all about the potential of Cyrus durgetash. Whether platonic or romantic. Excited to see the posts!!

​<33333

my interpretation of their pre-amnesia relationship is, i think, a lot... sweeter than the popular fandom durgetash consensus. the two don't particularly like each other at first-- they respect each other's abilities, which is why they develop a working relationship, but cyrus is so singularly devoted to his father that it makes him an ~utter drip~, which enver 'was enslaved in the hells and thus savors every indulgence of mundane life' gortash cannot fucking stand. eventually, while trying to celebrate some successful early job together, gortash says outright we can't continue on like this if you don't prove capable of enjoying yourself for one solitary moment beyond your fanaticism and drags cyrus to the nearest tavern.

and cyrus does enjoy himself. the crushing guilt comes the next day, but that night, he discovers his love for dancing and gets shitfaced for the first time and feels like he's a real person instead of solely the scion of bhaal, while gortash watches on with amusement-- and with the first stirrings of affection.

that's the core appeal of their relationship for me-- gortash as someone who anchors cyrus' sense of self beyond the urge and his worship of bhaal, and the tension between cyrus' conflicting all-encompassing devotions as evidenced by the prayer for forgiveness. gortash is initially just kind of amused, taking a lot of pleasure in being the one to ~corrupt~ bhaal's dark prince, but as their relationship deepens, his own worship of bane is compromised, giving way to that you are the only exception dynamic. the one person gortash doesn't want to rule over but alongside.

the two had a casual & constant physical intimacy but only slept together once or twice, being a bridge too far for bhaal and cyrus both (i've been playing around with the idea of tying it with bhaal 'gifting' cyrus the slayer form [ostensibly for putting the elder brain plan into motion], but whether the slayer form is punishment for the sex, or the sex is comfort after the transformation [or both...] i haven't decided)

the last (allegedly...) thought i'm rotating in my mind this morning is the idea that gortash could've been the one to save cyrus from bhaal instead of orin, but wasn't. at some point he must have done the calculus and realized that cyrus would forsake his father if gortash asked correctly. that he doesn't, and instead proceeds with the plan they hatched together as normal, is interesting. i think he believed that the plan was the escape-- play along long enough to rule as the Absolute, and then they'd have enough power together to rival the gods, to protect cyrus from bhaal, but not until then.

which adds a certain... (inter)personal desperation to the reunion at gortash's coronation. when he says bhaal isn't done with you yet it's a warning but also a plea. stay in line. stay with me.

[agentsquirrelsgotrobots]

My First Contact Au Beachcomber would flirt with Kade Burns if he had a holoform and got over the whole human-pet thing.

He is, in fact, a large, fat, jovial, flamboyantly gay man who absolutely ends up with a whole entourage of gay and bi mechs around him and his friends.

(Boulder to this day has a huge crush on this man. He's happily married, but it's like having a celebrity crush on him. It's completely based on Beachcomber being pretty and having a job that lets him get close to interesting 'animals')

It makes sense in my head at least for bigger mechs to be the beauty standard among non flyers/racers, who have their own beauty culture. Like, inside their own universes, the rescue bots, especially Heatwave, are seen as attractive. Also, it makes sense when it comes to femme frames and transfemme bots, since we see that their augments are seen as countercultural.

But anyway, here's an au within an au of the rescue bots getting an eyeful of the first attractive civilian in years. (And in Quickshadow's case, decades)

"um, don't look now, but that's the new civilian mech Optimus sent over." Heatwave said, trying to not sound like a teenager while trying to process just how pretty the new guy was.

"huh, Heatwave, I didn't know you had a thing for bigger guys." Kade said.

"but he's perfect? Well, aesthetically. I haven't met him yet- holy Primus, Quintus had a field day with that face." Kade watched as the bot pulled into a parking lot in order to talk to a couple of townspeople. "Kade, I am pulling over."

"Heatwave, why are your seats warming up?"

Heatwave screeched to a halt, remembering he had a passenger. "Oh, sorry. That's a bit awkward. Anyway." He popped open his driver's side door. "You get out, and I talk to the new bot that definitely has more of a spark chamber than I do. No really. Get out." Kade, getting the innuendo but not understanding it, bailed out for his sanity. Heatwave transformed, and he could see The New Bot checking him out while chatting with Haley and a few of her students.

Heatwave flinched as he got a comm link request with the bots details. His name was Beachcomber. He hopped on it immediately.

:Hey, I heard you're new.: he messaged, trying not to look too awkward, staring off into space while focused on something that existed entirely in his head. (Well, really his ear, but semantics.)

: aren't humans amazing?: the bot replied :I wish Cilla and Jane could be here, Earth is just beautiful. It has its problems, but there's something about them that is absolutely stunning:

Heatwave paused, moving to lean against a brick wall, being careful to take up only a single parking spot. :my name is Heatwave:

: Beachcomber. I have a platonic human companion, Jane, who's with her adopted daughter Cilla. They are out shopping, but I couldn't help myself but interact with the locals:

:you are from space though?:

:multiverse stuff. I think we will get sent home soon though. There are doubles of all three of us, Optimus just needs to track down Janette's so we can go home.:

:you said companions?:

: legally, they can't return to their earth. They were both kidnapped and trafficked to Cybertron, they were found in the streets by passersby and since I was the nearest exotic vet, I volunteered to be their host for the rest of their stay.:

Two women darted between Heatwave's feet, absolutely fearless as they ran up to Beachcomber. They spoke to him in rough galactic common before Beachcomber took their bags and scooped them up onto his shoulder, the two of them sitting in the groove of where his neck met shoulder plating.

:I have to go. Good meeting you.:

[tenthdocter]

If you could have a dinner party and invite any 5 people alive or dead, who would you invite and why?

Ant & Dec (They count as one lol) - Because they're my favs and they'd have me in fits of giggles haha

David Tennant - Just because he's awesome? Like easily the best actor in world for me and just seems like such lovely man too

Harry Kane - Because I've always kinda idolised him a little. He was born in the same town as me so idk I just feel like he's a personal hero of mine

Jim Carrey - Similar reasons to David. I've always kinda seen him as the american version of him tbh lol. Just has a very unique way of acting and has been in a lot of my childhood favourites

Stephen Mulhern - Just find the guy absolutely hilarious. And he's already good friends with ant & dec (well at least when they're not bullying each other lol) So having them all together would be brilliant haha

And yes I realise I didn't include any women in this. But I guess I just tend to admire more male celebrities?? In a platonic way of course. Plus I wouldn't say I really have a celebrity crush currently. And the celebrities I do at least fancy I don't really follow enough to include them here if that makes sense?

[smolwritingchick]

Hii hope you are taking care of yourself my question for you is Jennie going to have other types of beef with an another idols/celebrity’s in the future.

Hi!!! Thanks so much!! 😄 I’m enjoying Pumpkin while ignoring my friends express their disgust for it lmfaooo. I’m excited for Fall! Ok this answer was longer than anticipated. 😭 I rambled. Hope it made sense.

I’m still brainstorming other people but a big one I have is Camila Cabello. This was planned for quite some time. This beef is going to build for a few years and it’ll come to a point where Jennie is going check her for running her mouth, shutting her up for good so she can stop bothering her.

Jen and Shawn Mendes are platonic and will work so well together when they collab on music in future chapters. Jungkook and the rest of Bangtan already know about how they collaborate. They trust Shawn because of how kind and respectful he is towards Miss Bangtan and will remain close with him as well. It’s always a great vibe with Shawn and the boys. No jealousy, no nothing. So don’t expect anymore jealous Jungkook with Shawn as time goes on in the story.

I still have this story idea for 2024 with Jen and Shawn Mendes hanging out and walking Tony and Bam at central Park in NYC after the Met Gala as she catches up with him and runs into fans. And especially during 2024, their fanbases will understand fully that they are just great friends unlike years before with people shipping them. With Jen happily married to Jungkook and the admiration for Shawn and Camila, those ships would be put the rest.

Personally, I am not a fan of Camila and although Jen is in talks with her now, it definitely won’t be like that in the future. I see this starting as one sided beef with Camila downplaying the success of Jen and Shawn’s collaborations. I want it to begin to annoy her how Shawn and Jen’s chemistry is so good that people believe that they’re dating instead of her and Shawn. How they make what they create effortlessly believable. I think a great example to their chemistry is The Weeknd and Ariana Grande and how each collab they do is amazing.

Another thing that’ll bother Camila is how Jennie is always brought up in conversations about Shawn. Sometimes the media will try to pit the girls against each other but Jen wouldn’t feed into it, already understanding the agenda. She’d be graceful with any answers about Camila thanks to her media training. She knew the media would want Jen to shade Camila but she refused to be made into this negative person for drama.

Camila however…a different story. She’ll just randomly visit Shawn whenever she sometimes sees them both alone and smooch him in front of Jennie 💀 it’ll annoying Jen a bit cause when she is with Shawn, she is in work mode and gets serious and passionate about the art they create. She’d appreciate having no interruptions when working on music.

“Camila…hi. Can that wait until after we finish our business meeting on our project?” Jen would say, feeling awkward at her abrupt PDA. The way Jen would have a bunch of stories to share with Jungkook about the ridiculous behavior of Camila 💀💀 it’d make him laugh at how Jen would impersonate Camila’s behavior, too.

As time goes on, Jen wouldn’t pay her much mind, already cutting her off and saying her piece the first time of why she’ll keep her distance from her. Later on though, Camila’s odd jealousy will begin to annoy Jen every time she questioned her about Shawn and what they did alone. It’ll give her a headache as she explained everything is strictly platonic despite her openly saying how he was her celebrity crush. She’ll also bring up that she’s well trained in playing the part well of performing on stage and on camera with her peers.

Because when filming Lost in Japan, Jennie and Shawn act romantic and I’m considering them to kiss. They’ll be outside at night, with them sitting on the ground as he sat behind her, arms wrapped around her. They’d be watching fireworks and then you’ll see them kissing while they are filmed from behind. Of course Jen already informed Bangtan, it’s acting, the boys already know. It’s work. It’s professional. They’re just filming a music video. Acting classes have been paying off for Jen and Bangtan knows what she’s been working on.

They’d get filmed being on a “date.” For this music video. And as they are filmed talking, real conversations would happen with Shawn even asking her about her favorite dates she’s had with Jungkook and how their relationship is going while they juggle fame and a busy schedule.

“Sex sells” so of course everyone raves over the spicy MV of Camila and Shawn. However…when news breaks that Jennie was actually supposed to be singing in senorita, and Camila was the second choice when the label began making suggestions on who should sing with him, huge debates would start.

Jen had politely declined the song, wanting to do Lost in Japan instead which Shawn happily accepted. She liked the concept, but didn’t feel like it suited her. And lowkey she’d rather do her first spicy music video with Jungkook instead. She enjoyed the vibe with Lost in Japan more. It felt more her. Plus the concept would be perfect cause they’d have Bangtan in Japan and the music video scenario would be Shawn wanting to visit her in Japan after Bangtan’s concert. I have a vision. I’ll hook it up. It’ll be cute.

With the debates among fans, the what if scenarios of what if Jennie took Camila’s place would be discussed as well as disappointment from some fans and shippers on how it should have been Jennie pinned on the bed instead of Camila.

And another huge debate will spark with people preferring how wholesome Jen and Shawn acted together in their Lost in Japan music video and their interactions didn’t seem so forced. It looked more real and a cute first date. They didn’t need to do too much to promote their duet.

Jen and Shawn will be performing during some of the USA Music award shows especially when BTS attend as well. And fans would compare how Shawn would perform with Jennie to Camila. Seeing a significant difference and chemistry. Oof when Shawn performs both songs in one night with the girls the comparison posts that would be made.

All in all, Jen is going to think the whole thing of Camila overreacting about her and Shawn is ridiculous. And that she needs to work on her trust issues. I mean if her man Jungkook is understanding and even watched the rehearsal for how Jen and Shawn would be on stage, then Camila shouldn’t worry about it. Also, Jen would think of her as obnoxious and the less time she can endure her the better.

[kn-1013]

Childhood Crushes

Rating: T Ships: Reigen Arataka/Serizawa Katsuya, can be read as platonic or romantic Words: 655 AO3: NormalCaptive

Summary: Reigen and Serizawa talk childhood crushes.

Notes: A Serizawa-focused character study. I kind of wish this one were longer, but oh well. It's more than Terry Pratchett wrote in a single day.

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"So," Reigen said, catching Serizawa's attention. "Who was it for you?" 

They were both at a relatively empty and quiet ramen restaurant after a long day's work. Mob wasn't there for work that day, so it was just the two of them. Reigen had something that looked quite fancy and delicious, with extra pieces of pork added to the soup, whereas Serizawa tried to go for something closer to the instant noodles he was so used to eating, something simple. 

"What do you mean?" Serizawa said, mouth quite full of noodles. 

"Well, everyone has childhood crushes, right?" Reigen said, taking another bite. Serizawa shrugged. "I s'pose so." "Well, when you're some flavor of gay, you often don't know that, and something has to slap you in the face with it for you to get it. At least, that's how it happened for me." Serizawa hummed. "Usually, it's celebrities, too. For me? That American guy, Harrison Ford." Serizawa blinked. "From Indianna Jones?" Reigen nodded. "All those posters of him and the movie covers with his broad chest out in the open, ugh." Reigen snickered. "I don't know how my parents didn't know, like immediately. I had him all over my room." 

Serizawa raised a brow. "Poster over the bed?" Reigen nodded solemnly. "Poster over the bed." 

Serizawa gave a small chuckle. 

"See, I had crushes on mostly female characters, like Lara Croft--" "Tomb Raider." "--Yeah, Tomb Raider. Lara Croft in all her polygonal glory." Serizawa chuckled and took another bite of his food. "But what really changed things for me was Metal Gear Solid 2." "The only thing I know about Metal Gear Solid is that guy is called Solid Snake, for some reason." Reigen laughed. "It's Kojima, he kind of just does that." Serizawa said. "The character's real name is David, but something-something snakes are stealthy." He chuckled.

"But anyway, in Metal Gear Solid 2, there's a character called Vamp who is bisexual. That's what introduced the concept to me. I did more digging wherever I could on the early 2000s internet, learned what the term meant, and, well, that's when things started making sense. And then, for years, I had a crush on him." Serizawa took another bite, reminiscing a bit. "Though, he was a more minor character. I don't think there were any posters with just him on them. Or, if there were, I didn't have them." 

"This is why you should've had a gay crush on a popular character, so you could kiss the poster goodnight." Reigen said, very matter-of-fact. 

Serizawa almost choked. "Did you-?" Reigen snickered. "You know, I can't say." "Oh my god." 

Serizawa pointed his chopsticks loosely toward Reigen. "You're a hot mess, you know that?" Reigen laughed. "Haven't heard that one before!" He said sarcastically. 

"At least my guy wasn't a vampire named Vamp, and drinking people like Gogurts!" 

"Okay--No, he's not called Vamp because he drinks blood, according to the dialogue, he's a vampire because he's bisexual." Reigen almost spit out his food in confused laughter. "What? How does that make sense!" Serizawa threw his hands up. "I'm just as confused as you are! I don't think anyone actually knows what the hell that line meant." 

Right then, Serizawa had realized that for the first time, he had a friend right in front of him. Not online, right there. Someone who was actually interested in what he had to say, who was engaging with him. He cared about his online friends, but he had forgotten what it was like to be around another person. That friends online couldn't alone be a replacement for in-person connection, at least not for him. This was someone who he could reach out and touch, someone real. 

Someone whose genuine smile didn't show often, but when it did, it lit up his world. Someone who showed him to be confident, someone who believed in him. 

He could get used to this.