#IT'S NOT THE MOST COMMON THING FOR HIM TO BE THIS HAPPY

[purple-plum-petals]

Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!

⊱ Those Three Words ⊰ || Mr. Silvair X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮   Character(s): Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Route End: Mr. Silver Hair 1), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and Horror-Elements), Cultural Barriers (Mr. Silvair Doesn’t Fully Comprehend Certain Emotions). Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Slight Angst, Pre-Established Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~3,280 Request: “Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!” Author’s Note: Mr. Silvair!!! He’s genuinely so pretty, y’all – it’s not fair. 😔 I find his overall character to be quite fascinating, and a part of me is really hoping the game gets a DLC or something to further expand on each of the character’s lore (and more moments with the MC, of course). Like game, what do you mean that some of the monsters may have been humans while others probably never were?? I desperately need more food… I headcanon that Mr. Silvair was either 1. never human, or 2. has been in the other world for a very long time, resulting in the loss of his memory as a human which could be why he’s so interested in researching them/maintaining the MC’s humanity. 🤔 But that’s just a theory – a game theory! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

Even after everything that had happened between you and this world’s resident human-enjoyer, you surprisingly still felt at ease with Mr. Silvair. That comfortability, though, made you think hard about your sanity. After all, it probably wasn’t normal to be comfortable around someone who enjoyed taking you apart and watching your body put itself back together over and over again. Yet, you did, and you didn’t mind your current arrangement as much as you probably would have in the past. 

Mr. Silvair’s home was destroyed in a fiery explosion (courtesy of himself), so you had offered to help him find a new one. You managed to locate a large room, one that he deemed satisfactory enough to call his base, and you had been staying with him indefinitely since then. As long as you had a comfy bed to lay in and someone else to keep you company, you were happy. 

Your other friends(?) frequently stopped by as well to say hello, the most common ones being Mr. Crawling and Mr. Chopped. While you were occasionally hit with a feeling of loneliness, it was hard to feel that way with so many friendly faces around. Well… maybe their faces weren’t that friendly, but they were kind and gentle with you, and that’s what truly mattered. 

You hear the sound of Mr. Silvair moving around in the room adjacent to the one you typically stayed in, and you wonder to yourself what his plans for today are. The tall, long-haired man spent most of his time engaged in research. You didn’t see him as frequently as one would expect despite the fact you two were practically roommates. All you could do was hope he wasn’t messing around with and subsequently angering any more terrifying, violent ghosts. You enjoyed your current home, and going out to look for another one wasn’t very high on your list of things to do. 

The Rubik’s Cube in your hand was still as scattered as ever, and it seemed like, no matter how long you spent trying to solve it, you were only able to successfully complete one side. Mr. Masque was kind enough to give it to you (he apparently had a whole stash of the things somewhere), and his gift was something you were immensely grateful for. Attempting to figure out the puzzle helped you pass the time wherever you were alone (and it most likely helped you keep your head on straight). 

You’re currently lying flat on your back atop the plush bed in the relatively empty living space, looking up at the gray concrete ceiling with a blank stare. Once you decide you’ve loafed around for long enough, you stand up slowly from the bed, placing the cube gently on the covers of the cot. You stretch your arms above your head, a strangled noise coming from your throat at the movement of your stiff muscles, and you begin to make your way to the other room where your… 

What even was Mr. Silvair to you? While yes, you were fond of him – hell, you’d go as far as to say you loved him – you knew he didn’t feel the same. You remember the moment he told you “I not understand like”, and that he didn’t want to save you from your condition, no… he found you entertaining to keep around, and that’s why he did what he did. 

It was complicated, you thought, trying to have a relationship with a being who didn’t grasp what the concept of love was. Deep down, though, you knew you wouldn’t change it for the world. He enjoyed your presence, and that was all you could ask for. 

You walk over to the metal door and knock, waiting for a response. After a moment, you hear Mr. Silvair’s voice echo, “Enter.”

The door opens with a slight creak as you twist the knob, peeking your head inside the somewhat grimy space. The room, still fairly new, didn’t have as much blood or gore as his old one did. There were fresh stains on the floor and wall, you noted, and you couldn’t help but wonder who or what they were from exactly. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, though, so you didn’t bother asking. 

You grin up at the taller man and give him a small wave, saying softly, “Hello. I not bother?”

He returns your smile, placing the scalpel in his hand on the stainless steel tray that held a variety of medical tools. It looked like he was in the process of cleaning the many, typically blood-stained, pieces of equipment. Mr. Silvair turns to face you and replies gently, “Hello. You not bother. Enter.”

Tilting his head to one side, his long, silver locks move when he does, cascading down his head and slipping off his shoulder at the movement. His smile drops slightly before he asks, “Feeling unwell? Injured? Need cure?”

“No, no cure.” You quickly say, not quite in the mood to be dissected or taken apart right now (honestly, though, you never really were, even if you did understand why it needed to be done). You pause by the door before finally shutting it behind you, the both of you now alone in the private and secluded space. 

Ugh – why was it so hard to say what was on your mind??

After taking a moment to build up your confidence, you tell Mr. Silvair while fidgeting with the rubber of the clear raincoat you wore, “I want see you. Communicate.”

He hums and smiles at your admission, walking over to you before placing a calloused hand on your face. Your eyes close on instinct, and your breathing shutters when he rubs his thumb across your cheek. A part of you wanted to be annoyed with him since he had to be aware of the effect he had on you, yet you didn’t want to run the risk of him removing his cool palm from your skin, so you kept your mouth shut. 

It had taken quite some time for Mr. Silvair to get to this point of physical affection with you (something he began doing more often after he saw how much you enjoyed getting head-pats from Mr. Crawling), so you didn’t want to ruin any progress you two had made in your complicated and unconventional relationship. 

“Okay,” Mr. Silvar starts, removing his hand from your face as he gestures to one of the two chairs in the room. He smiles down at you before saying, “Sit. We communicate.”

You do as you’re told without speaking another word, your hands folded in your lap after you sit down, watching Mr. Silvair take a seat on the chair across from you. You talk with him for quite some time, doing your best to update him on your current progress with the puzzle since that was pretty much the only thing you had going on in your life. While it wasn’t satisfying to speak in the other world’s language because it tended to miss most of the nuances of speech, it was the only way the two of you could communicate. 

Mr. Silvair seemed to pick up on your frustration, seeing you were growing annoyed at the lack of words in your arsenal – the term you were looking for wasn't coming to mind. In response, he tilts his head to the side and asks you, “You upset. Why?”

“Not right words.” You reply, brows furrowed when you look up at him, your gaze landing on the bloody bandages wrapped around his eyes. You turn your head to look down at the floor, the somewhat fresh pool of blood perfectly matching the color of the Rubik’s Cube. You point to the puddle and turn to ask Mr. Silvair, “What’s this called in your language? Can you tell me how to say this color?”

“Blood.” Mr. Silvair responds, not understanding what you wanted him to explain. 

“No, no.” You quickly reply, shaking your head. You continue to glance between him and the blood, enunciating your words even though he didn’t understand your language the same way you were able to understand his. You didn’t back down or give up, though, saying again, “The color – I want to know what color blood is.”

He pauses, one hand under his chin as he seemingly takes a moment to figure out what you are asking him. After a few beats, Mr. Silvair replies with a word you haven’t heard anyone speak before, “???”

You visibly brighten at the new word, and the expression on your face causes Mr. Silvair to let out a light chuckle before he crosses one of his legs over the other. You take a breath before telling him, “Okay. Thank you.” 

After another pause, you continue to speak, “So… One part object done, red part. Other parts hard – not finish.”

Mr. Silvair had been leaning forward in his chair, his elbow digging into his knee while his hand rested under his chin, holding his head up as he stared at you with an unwavering gaze. He always listened to you with rapt interest, and you would be lying if you said the constant attention didn’t make your heart stutter in your chest. However, he suddenly speaks, pointing to the pool of blood you had been gesturing toward moments before, “What you call that?”

“Huh?” You ask, pausing your story to look at him. Mr. Silvair doesn’t say anything else, though, giving you a moment to comprehend what he has asked you. You perk up when your brain finally registers what Mr. Silvair had said, replying to him happily, “Oh, that’s the color red. So, blood is typically red – blood red.” 

“R-ehd?” He echos, and the sound of his voice speaking a word that you were able to understand without having to flip through your mental dictionary had your breath hitching. It sounded so strange but so nice coming from his lips. 

“Yeah, red! Blood is red!” You say, sounding excited and oh-so happy. Mr. Silvair would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find the look on your face and the tone of your voice endearing. Then, your expression shifts slightly as you lean forward in your chair, saying enthusiastically, “Oh my god – I just got an idea! Me teach you me language!”

“...You language?” Mr. Silvair asks after a moment, shifting in his seat slightly. 

“Yes! Me teach you!” You reply, gesturing to both him and you with your hands. Your mind remembers the way Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped helped you shortly after you first arrived, teaching you directions to walk, facial expressions, and more. They had helped you expand your knowledge of this world’s language, and they were probably responsible for your survival in so many of those early interactions. So, you smile at him as you say, “We same.”

He returns a smile, nodding his head and replying with a simple, “Okay.”

“Alright, so, let me think here…” You hum to yourself, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes while you consider what you should start with. Body parts seemed to be the first thing that popped into your head, so that’s eventually what you decided to start with. Sitting up in the chair, you point toward your hand with the other, tapping a finger to your palm as you speak, “Okay, so, this is my hand – hand. Can you say hand?”

It was kind of cute, strangely enough, seeing Mr. Slivair take the time to repeat the word you spoke over and over in his mind, trying to match the movement of your mouth with his own. Your languages were quite different in sounds, syllables, and the like, so he was practicing what to say before actually speaking. After a few moments of contemplation, he replies, “...H-ah-nd.”

“Hey, that was pretty good! Not bad for your first try, Mr. Silvair, even if the pronunciation is a bit off.” You say with a wide smile, clapping your hands together as you applaud him on his efforts. He chuckles again, finding your way of teaching to be… sweet. 

Then, you speak again, once again grabbing his attention. You tap the pad of your finger under the skin of your eye, asking him, “Do you remember what this is called? I think I’ve told you before.”

Mr. Silvair is quicker in his response this time, having heard you ask him about his own eyes before as he smoothly says, “Eye.” 

“Yes! Good job!” You praise once more, giving him a thumbs up in response. Then, he stands up from his seat, walking over to you while his once-white lab coat flows behind him. You crane your head back to look up at him from where you were still sitting, a simple and stupid, “...Huh?” leaving your mouth. 

Mr. Silvair reaches a hand to your face, cupping your chin gently in his hand. You feel his thumb resting on your bottom lip, and he begins to move his finger back and forth along the slightly chapped flesh, tugging at it slightly. He tilts his head to the side, asking you seriously, “What this called?”

“Oh, uh…” You know your face is probably flushed beyond belief at this point if the heat cascading through your head is anything to go by, and your mind and heart are completely caught off-guard by his sudden touch and question. You avert your gaze to the side, swallowing harshly before you finally reply, “They’re my lips – they’re, umm… similar to mouth. Lips, mouth, same.”

“...Lips?” Mr. Silvair asks again for clarification, his voice having an almost husky tone to it that has a shiver travel down your spine. 

You nod in response, muttering a barely audible, “Yes…” 

Mr. Silvair hums at your response, a small smile gracing his lips. He leans down, face so close to yours, before he inquires with an almost teasing tone to his voice, “You want touch?”

“Y-Yes.” You answer at an almost embarrassingly fast speed. 

The man who you had grown so fond of chuckles at your enthusiasm before leaning forward, pressing his lips softly to yours while he holds your face between his palms. Kisses weren’t a common thing between the two of you, and they were really only something Mr. Silvair initiated when he felt like it. You could feel the intensity at which your heart was beasting due to his sudden affections, and there was a part of you that was worried it would burst out of your chest right then and there. 

Your eyes flutter shut and you tilt your head to the side, your hands coming up to rest atop his – his hands that were holding your cheeks so, so gently. It was almost sickening the way he was holding you like you could break at any moment. 

Then, almost as quickly as it began, the kiss ended before you even realized it did. Mr. Silvair’s forehead was now pressed against yours, and he doesn’t make any move to remove his hands from your face. Your lips were no longer touching, and yet he still lingered.  

Mr. Silvair didn’t play fair, you thought, yet you couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to kiss you so suddenly, so randomly. You close your eyes and your brows furrow at the tightening in your throat, an aching sensation slowly spreading throughout your chest like a disease before you whisper, “...I love you.”

There’s a silence, a stretch of nothingness before Mr. Silvair suddenly asks you, his voice just as soft as yours had been, “Repeat?”

“...No,” Your response is nearly immediate, and you shake your head before repeating once more, “Nothing.”

“...I love you.” The sound of those three words leaving his lips nearly causes your mind to implode. It sounded so sweet, yet it also felt worse than any suffering you had experienced before. The searing and excruciating pain, the feeling of a blade digging itself into the flesh of your torso couldn’t compare to the deep-seated torment you felt right now.

Mr. Silvair hums, tilting his head to the side as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks, “What mean?”

You knew there was no point, no reason to try and explain your feelings again, but you do. You still do, even though you know it’s pointless to try. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as you speak, finding the concrete floor more interesting, “Mean… mean me like you. Lot like.”

There’s a pause, a moment of contemplation before Mr. Silvair says, “...Not understand.”

“I know.” You reply, nodding your head once in response. 

“You know?” He asks you, sounding somewhat confused, a tone you very rarely heard from the man. Had he forgotten that moment that you couldn’t seem to forget, the memory that you continuously found replaying in your mind like a broken record? It wasn’t fair, you thought, that only you were forced to hold onto such a painful memory. 

“You communicate before.” You clarify, finally willing yourself to look at his face. Mr. Silvair’s expression was tight, his lips drawn into a flat line. 

You needed to get away, to just run from this moment in the hopes he would forget the whole exchange just as he apparently did the last one. You take your hands and grab his wrists, removing his palms from your face before you stand up from the chair. You refuse to look at him as you turn, heading to the door as you utter, “...I’m going to go for a walk, so I’ll be back later. Goodbye.”

Then, you feel something tug at the sleeve of your raincoat. It wasn’t strong, nothing that would actually stop you from moving, but your legs proceeded to hault at the small action. Mr. Silvair says, his tone not demanding in the slightest – if anything, it sounded like a plea as he speaks, “No exit.”

You take a deep breath and turn around to face him, asking in such a small voice that it even caught yourself off-guard, “...Why?”

“I want you here.” Mr. Silvair responds quickly, so quickly it seems to have taken both of you by surprise. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he asks, finally releasing the material of your jacket from in between his fingers, “Stay… Will you stay?”

You once again find yourself wondering if Mr. Silvair was aware of the effect he had on you as a sigh leaves your mouth. You nod your head lightly and reply, “I will stay.”

“Good.” He says in response, a gentle smile on his face as he says for the second time, “I love you.”

You frown at him and shake your head, saying with a slight edge of frustration in your voice, “No speak. Not true.” 

“True… Believe true.” He says quickly, reaching out to once again place a hand against your cheek. You don’t move, don’t flinch away from his touch – you still relish the way he’s holding you like a fragile piece of glass. Mr. Silvair’s brows are furrowed ever so slightly as he mutters, “Confused.”

“You’re telling me… How do you think I feel?” You say with a huff, your hand holding into his as you find yourself nuzzling your nose into his palm. The painful feeling in your chest was still present, but it wasn’t nearly as excruciating as it had been now. You find it in yourself to smile, gazing up at him as you speak, “...but we’ll get through it together – we together. Right?”

“To-geh-ther…” He repeats, leaning down to press his forehead to yours once more as he says softly, “Yes.”

[spidybaby]

Seat 332

Summary: The seat he always reserved for you, it's now hers.

Warnings: cursing.

You hug Aurora as the two of you jump happy.

"I'm so happy." Aurora says, tearing up a little bit. "I'm sorry, I need a moment." She says, walking out of the room.

You turn to face Gavi. He has the biggest smile anyone could ever have. He opens his arms, walking over to you.

You carefully hug him, head between his neck and shoulder. "I'm so happy for you, Pablito." You say.

He tightens the hug, kissing your forehead. "I'm happy too." He says. "I can't wait to be on the field again."

Gavi got the green light to start training on the training camp, not like the others, but finally, he's able to run, to juggle the ball, to be out.

"And maybe I'll be able to play against Sevilla." He smiles, a smile that might hurt later. "I can't wait."

You separate from the hug, grabbing his cheeks. "I'm going to be there for you, I'll be the loudest on the stadium when I cheer your name." You smile at him.

He moves his hand and places it on the back of your neck, bringing you in for a kiss. You don't waste one second and return the action.

"I kinda like having my own cheerleader." He smirks. Giving you another peck.

You laugh at his tone, grabbing his hand, walking with him to the living room. His parents and Aurora have smiles and tears.

Finally, after so long and after everything Gavi went through, he was able to go back to the field and do what he loved the most, play.

"We are so happy, mijo." Belen says, hugging him. "You are going back to play."

His father joins the hug. They were telling him how happy they were about his return, even when it was just to training.

It was a big step for everybody. After the times when Pablo didn't want to see anyone and used to cry himself out of the frustration of being in bed while his friends played. Horribly but played. (Don't fight me on this, last season was bad)

His family was grateful for your support to Pablo. You have known him since school, and your support was very important to him and to them.

You and pablo were friends, even when you looked like the typical couple. You never officially become anything other than his friend, and tell people that you were fine like that.

"Let's go out to eat." Pablo Sr. says. "We need to celebrate this big moment."

Pablo pulls you to the front door, intertwining your hands. Pablo asked you what you are eating. Naming you different things off the menu.

"I want a piece of cake." He says, opening the door for you. "Want to share?" He asks, passing his arm around your shoulders.

You nod to him, giving him a kiss. You were careful with the picture and places. You know that since you two aren't labeled, you don't want to deal with the fans.

You were fine letting people think you were Aurora's friend. You were thankful to have some pictures with them from when you were kids.

Fans have seen that and thought nothing of it. So they didn't really care when you were with Aurora at the games.

"We are going to Sevilla this weekend." Pablo says. "Want to join us?"

You shake your head no. "I have a lot of work to do." You explain.

He rests his head on your shoulder. "I'm going to miss you." He says, sighing.

Gavi's parents ask you about college. They were happy that it was going well for you. You wanted to be a physiotherapist.

They wanted you to succeed. They have known you since you were a child, and when you went out of your way to help Pablo during his recovery. They got closer to you and got to know you better.

You became closer to him because you two met up at a common friend birthday party. You told him that you moved to Barcelona to study.

He contacted you over Instagram. You two began talking, and then he invited you to a game. You, as a cule, said yes immediately.

Since then, you got closer and started a small fling. You never cared that it was an in and out situation. He was an old friend and he liked you.

Pablo and you excuse yourselves. He has training in the morning, and you were going to help him with his therapy routine.

"Do you want me to help you with your exercise?" You ask, checking on him as he does what his physio instructed him.

He shakes his head no, trying to act tough and uninterested. "I'm almost done." He says.

You enjoy the show he's pulling. His face went from normal to a red one as he refused to ask for help. All that only to look cool for you.

You can't help but laugh at how his arms are shaking thanks to the effort he is putting into the exercise.

"Pablo, let me help you." You say, getting up and walking up to him. Grabbing the weight he's using. "Let's do it together." You say, kissing his temple.

You work out with him. Doing it slowly and helping him take the proper rest in between sets.

"You see?" You ask him. Leaving the weight on the floor. "A little help won't hurt you."

He chuckles, giving you a kiss. "Want to shower with me?" He asks, hiding his sweaty face on your neck.

You nod, grabbing his hand and walking upstairs with him.

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"Have you noticed that we are always placed in the same seats?" Aurora asks, walking with you around the now empty stadium.

"We do?" You ask, confused. "How do you know that?"

"I was checking the seating on the last few games. Don't ask me why cause I just did it out of boredom."

You turn, looking at where the seats are located. "Never noticed that. We can ask Pablo why is that."

"Ask me what?" Pablo says. He was behind you.

He grabs your arm, pulling you against his chest. You laugh at his roughness. "Pablo!" You say in between giggles.

"Pablo, careful." Aurora warns him.

Pablo shush Aurora, giving you a kiss. You feel him wrapping his arms around you. "What do you wanna ask me, guapa?" He whispers to you before returning to kissing you.

You separate. "I don't even remember anymore." You say, making him chuckle. "Ready to go?" You ask, making him nod.

You were taking them to the airport after the game. Even when he isn't ready to play, he wants you at the games.

He says that it's for you and his family to get used to him playing again. You love it when he includes you into his plans.

"Let's go, lovebirds." Aurora says, walking away from you. "We don't want to hit traffic."

You walk to the car, thanks to the wait in the stadium, there was not much traffic. You needed to pick something at Gavi's house before the airport.

"I'll be quick." Aurora says, running to the house.

Gavi was singing some song he had on the playlist of his recovery. He was focused on his phone.

You then remember what Aurora told you about the seats. You want to ask him, so you turn the music down.

"I just remembered what I wanted to ask you." You tell him, bomping his nose with your finger.

"A ver, dime."

"Aurora pointed out that we always sit in the same seats." You explain. "Why is that?" You ask.

He smiles, getting closer to you and giving you a small kiss. "I memorized where the seat was." He explains. His fingers combing your hair. "That way, when I scored, I know where to look. I know that you'll be there."

You can't help the big smile that you have. He was looking for you after every goal. After every asist, he knows where to look to find you.

"Seat 332" He says. "That's the one I always ask for."

You were about to say something, but Aurora joined the two of you in the car. She apologizes for the inconvenience of having to stop at Pablo's house for her makeup bag.

"Let's go!" She says happy. "I can't wait to be home."

You smile, happy that they got to go home. The rest of the drive consists of Pablo singing every song that plays and Aurora asking you to change the song because Pablo was ruing it.

When you got to the airport, Gavi helped his sister with the luggage. Telling her that he will carry them for her.

"I'll call you when I'm back." He says, putting his head inside the car. "A kiss goodbye?" He makes duck lips.

You giggle, giving him a kiss. "Have fun, bye."

pablogavi added to closefriends

You liked Gavi's story. Answering his dm. He let you know that he was still in Sevilla and that he was having fun.

You forgot to answer him. You were busy with some paperwork you were procrastinating. You needed to finish if you want to see him after he come back from Sevilla.

You tell him that you will be out of the radar for a few days, and when he comes back you will text him when you are free.

You spend your days working and going to uni. You had to study hard if you want to pass with a good grade.

Aurora told you that she gave your greetings to your abuelita and that she sent you something with Pablo.

You thank her and tell her that you'll talk to Pablo to get whatever she sent you. Going back to the books and the studying.

You spend more than you should without reporting you. Gavi went missing in action, too.

You didn't even notice, your phone was running in low battery from all the working and studying you are doing.

You were going back to your place, happy that you finally get to relax and to be free from all the books, all the papers and all the sleepless nights.

You find a very known car parked in front of your house. You get down of your own car, passing beside it like you didn't know.

"Hello, señorita." Gavi says, smiling with such pride. "I'm looking for someone. Maybe you can help me."

"Oh, hi Mister." You follow his act. "Can you describe this person to me?"

"She's pretty." He began, taking his glasses. "Very pretty. She's a very smart girl, with beautiful hair and a very pretty shiny eyes."

You blush with his words. You love it when Gavi talks about you like that. It makes you feel some type of way.

"I might know her." You answer shyly.

He laughs at your red cheeks. He exits his car, walking over to you and hugging you. "I missed you." He whispers in your ear. Leaving a kiss there.

"I missed you too," you say to him. "Let's get inside. It's really hot." You wave air with your hand.

You grab his hand and open your door. You noticed he has something in his hands. You look at him with a doubtful expression.

"Your abu sends you this." He hands you the bag. "She mentioned to me that you need to open it and try it."

You thank him for bringing you what your grandma sent you. You even thank him for going to see her and spend time with her.

You spend the rest of the day with him, cuddle on the couch, and watch his favorite movies. He was telling you about his family reunion, his trips around Sevilla. Everything.

"What if we go out to eat?" He asks, kissing your hair. "I know I shouldn't break the diet, but I just want to go out with you."

You nod, kissing him and going to freshen up. You fix your hair and brush your teeth. Apply more lip oil and reapply perfume.

He drives to your favorite restaurant, he asks for a corner table, not wanting to he spotted or bother when he's with you.

You tell him about your last few days, how stressed you were, and why you didn't answer any of his texts.

He loves hearing you talk about your day, even when it was just a ramble of two things or about the same thing over and over but in different situations.

"Do you want dessert?" He asks.

You shake your head no. You want to even unbutton your jeans because of how full you feel. Even breathing makes you feel fuller.

"Then let me pay, and we are on our way." He says, calling the waitress to pay.

You two walk out of the restaurant. Gavi has a hoodie that he had in his car. He asks you if you want to walk around, you say yes.

"Mom says that when she's back, she will teach you how to make that cake you loved." He smiles, hugging you by the waist. "That way, when you learn how to make it, you can make it for me."

"I will make it for you whenever you want to." You kiss his cheek. "Stay with me tonight, yes?"

He nods, tightening the grip he has on you. You two pass a man selling single roses. Gavi bought one for you. Handing it to you and stealing a quick kiss.

yourusername has added to closefriends.

"Do you want to go out tonight?" Alexa, your friend, asks you.

"I can't. Have something to do." You lie.

That thing you had to do was Pablo coming over to stay inside with you. He called you earlier and asked you to be home.

He was getting food for the two of you and wanted to see this new movie that he was too busy to see.

"Okay then." She shrugged. "If you change your mind, we are going to be at La Bodega. Text me." You nod, saying goodbye.

You drive home, listening to your shared playlist that Gavi created for you. That way, when you were together, the songs you liked were going to mix.

As soon as you get home, you clean the small mess you have in the living room. You take a shower to erase the sweat from the weather.

You decide to watch your show while you wait. Making time for Gavi to get out of whatever he's doing.

After a few episodes, you realize that Pablo was later than what he usually is. You check your phone to see if he texted you or something.

Nothing.

You sent him a text asking if he was okay. You want to make sure that it was just him being late, or maybe he got caught up doing something else.

After the first five minutes, you thought < maybe he's busy >

After ten, you started to worry. < what if during recovery, he hurt himself? >

After more than an hour, you decide to call him. The beeping of the line and the authorized voice of his voice mail made you even more worried.

You tried again. Nothing.

You calm yourself, maybe he got busy with something and couldn't come. Maybe he's in a meeting and you were interrupting.

You continue watching your show, trying to leave the worry away. He was fine. He has to be.

You get up and prepare yourself some instant Ramen. Your plans of waiting for Pablo are now long forgotten.

You didn't understand, but you didn't make it bigger. Two missed calls and a few unread texts were everything you did, and it was enough.

At one time, you turn your tv off. Walking to your room and getting into bed. You check your phone one last time, confirming that Pablo read your texts but didn't answer them.

He was going to explain himself later. It was all okay.

But... was it?

Pablo took not one day or maybe two. It took him five days before he showed up at your door.

You might think that after the texts, the missed calls, after you basically were dead worried about him.He was going to explain himself.

Thar he was going to give you the resume of what happened for him to be ignoring you like that.

But no, Pablo didn't do that.

He even asked you why you were blowing up his phone. HE was confused.

"Gavi, you told me you were coming and when you didn't. I got worried." You tell him, sitting next to him on the coach. "I even thought that maybe something happened to you during recovery."

He opens his eyes. "No, don't say that." He chuckles. "God, no."

"Then what happened?" You ask, hand on his cheek. "Tell me."

He thinks for a while, not sure what to tell you to calm you down.

"Aurora and Javi got into a fight." He says. "And I needed to be there for her. You understand that my sister was in distress and I wasn't going to leave her alone. I'm sorry I got busy, I really am."

You calm down, believing his dumb story. "No, you did the right thing." You say, caressing his skin. "I just got worried, that's all."

He pushed your head towards him. Giving you a kiss. "I'll make it up." He smiles, not worried Bout a single thing. "Now, why don't we watch that movie I told you about?" He asks, kissing you again.

You nod, letting the whole thing slide.

Oh boy, you were wrong for that.

After letting Pablo get away with that, he started to act differently. You blame it on him being stressed about the Sevilla game. Maybe he wanted to train extra hard and be prepared for anything.

You call him out for that. He apologized and invited you out. Insisting on going to dinner as a way for him to apologize.

He asked you to meet there since he was going straight up after training. He told you that the Mister decided for training to be in the evening.

You got yourself ready. Got your makeup on, your pretty hair well done. You got your nice perfume on.

All of that for him to be more than an hour late.

"Hey!" You say calling the waitress attention. "Can I get the check?"

She takes a look at your table, the empty bottle of soda, and your sad look was enough for her to feel bad.

"It's okay." She smiles. "It's on the house."

You thank her, already feeling too embarrassed to fight her for the check. You left some money for her, as a thank you.

You drive home, mad that you let this happen. You were expecting more from him, only to be let down by your own expectations.

You log into social media, trying to forget about your anger at him, only to find out a picture of him from only like thirty minutes ago.

gavirafan06

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gavirafan06 Gavi with a fan tonight.

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ferminxgavi wait is that the girl they are talking about on twitter?

gavirafan06 apparently they were out with his sister and his mom 🤔

masialover10 they say her user is @/antogmz but her account is private tho

He was out with someone else, and his mom and sister were with him.

You were waiting for him, and he didn't even have the decency of calling you and canceled the date.

You throw your phone to the bed. Went to the bathroom and did your skincare. You feel down, Gavi wasn't like that. Not with you.

You give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was a fan who was casually in the back or someone else.

You don't want to make assumptions. You want him to explain himself. Even when you already decided that he was innocent.

Aurora called you the next day. Asking you if you wanted to go out and have some lunch together. You agreed to meet her.

She asked you to pick her up, thing that you agree with, too. You got ready and drove to her brother's house.

You want to talk with Gavi, ask him why he didn't showed up, but you don't want to look pushy or like a bother.

You ring the doorbell. After a few seconds, you are greeted by Belen. She got happy to see you, hugging you and pulling you inside the house.

You make small talk with her, she mentioned how much she wants you to come over so you can learn those food recepies you always ask her.

"I promise that I'll make time to come sometime around this week." You say, waving goodbye at her.

Aurora and you walk out. She was happy to see you and be able to talk to you. You were happy too, she was an amazing friend to you.

"Are you coming tonight?" She asks casually.

You look at her, confused about what she's talking about.

"What's tonight?" You ask. "I've been busy, and I've been forgetting things, sorry." You say, pretending to understand what she meant.

"Pablo is hosting a barbecue. His friends from Sevilla are in town, and he wants to celebrate with them." She exolains to you. "You remember now?" She laughs.

You nod, smiling at her. You feel your stomach turning. Gavi got the friends you two have in common, invited them, and left you out.

"Aurora, can I ask you a question?" You ask her.

"You just did." She jokes, making you roll your eyes as you chuckle. "Go on, ask me."

"But, promise me you'll be honest with me." You say, frown in your face.

She stops eating to look at you with a serious face. "Of course. What is going on?"

You think the question a few moments. You don't know how to deliver it and make it sound like a doubt, and not like a desperate thing.

"Is Gavi seeing anyone?" You finally ask.

She starts coughing. Lifting her hand for you to give her a moment. "Sorry, I ate too quickly." She lies.

You hand her the glass of water, trying to help her pass the food. "You okay?"

She nods, gaining composure. "Sorry, yes. I am." She says, drinking water. "Why are you asking me that?" She asks back.

You shrug. "He's been kind of ghosting me." You explain. "And I don't want to hurt myself and think that maybe what we have is going to work and then find out that he is seeing someone else."

She softened the expression on her face. "Y/n." She sighs. "Pablo likes you more than he cares to confess." She says, grabbing your hand. "Believe me when I tell you that he only thinks about you."

You smile at her. Happy with her answer.

"He's been busy." She excuses him. "With all the training and him wanting to be as ready as possible for the match, I think he's been out of the blue."

You nod, understanding that he was worried about his comeback. Busy with his own life and trying to make it out as if.

"Well, I'm calmer now that you tell me that." You smile at her. "Thank you." You say, squishing her hand.

You go on with your day, the bright smile you have on your face was something nobody was taking away.

You drive Aurora home, asking her to tell her mom that yoh will be back to learn everything she wants to teach you.

You then drive back home. You need to finish some projects. You texted Gavi, letting him know that Aurora told you Bout the barbecue and asking if he needed anything.

He only texted that he would come over to talk.

You don't pay mind to that. Finishing with your homework and even using the free time to do some upcoming projects.

You don't notice the time passing by, until someone knocks on your door. You check the time. It was 5 pm.

"Hola," you smile at Gavi. Moving to the side to let him in. "Before you say anything, Aurora already told me that you've been busy and very tired and I totally understand why you forgot about dinner."

He frowns, not even understanding what you meant by that. "Okay." He says, shrugging. "Talking about Aurora, you told me she invited you over tonight?" He asks.

You nod happy. "She did. That's why I was asking if you needed me to bring something."

He scratches the back of his neck. Trying to find a way to say what he was about to say.

"Are you oka-" You were asking, until you got interrupted by him.

"You can't come." He says. The serious tone of his voice makes you shiver.

You frown. Looking at him not understanding.

"What?"

He sighs. "You are not invited." He says, looking annoyed. "Aurora wasn't supposed to invite you, and frankly, I don't want you there."

You feel the knife stabbing you in the heart. He didn't want you there. You stayed silent for a few minutes.

He's trying to read your blank expression, but he can't.

Your vision becomes blurry. "Oh." You whisper. "Okay."

He feels bad about hurting your feelings.

"Y/n, list-"

"You should go." You interrupt him. "It's getting late, and you'll have people over." You say, walking to the kitchen.

You don't want him to see you cry, but you can't help the sob that scapes your lips. That makes him feel even worse.

"Preciosa, listen." He tries one more time.

"No, Pablo." You turn around mad. "You need to leave." You say, stern tone. "Now!"

You clean your tears. You refuse to cry in front of him. You don't want to show him how much this situation is affecting you.

"Why are you so mad?" He asks, exasperated. "You act as if you are my fucking girlfriend." He shouts.

You pass from the sadness to anger in one sentence. Your fight mode activates.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Pablo." You say, trying to hide the angry sob that scapes your lips. "I'm sorry that I act as if I'm someone you treat me like. I'm sorry I'm crying because I genuinely thought that you cared about me, and now I'm realizing that you don't. "

He rolls his eyes. That only makes you feel so much fury.

"I do care about you." He says. "But fuck, I never told you we were a thing. You assumed things up, and now you are blaming me for it."

You let out a laugh. "I assumed?" You ask. "I assumed things up when you called me all those nicknames? Huh?" You start pointing out. "I assumed things up when you held my hand, kissed my lips, slept over in my bed? Huh?"

He's silent, knowing that there's no going back from here. "Liste-"

"No!" You shout. "Did I assumed things up when you were fucking me?" You ask, the bitter tone is evident. "I gave you everything, Pablo. And you can't even give me a decent excuse. Are you really blaming me?"

"Did I asked you to give me all that?" He asks.

That simple question makes you understand everything. Your energy got all down. You don't even want to keep talking.

"You are right." You nod. "You can leave now, message received."

He stops the hard frown that's on his face. He softens his look. What he just did was not what he wanted to happen.

He wanted for you to understand that he never wanted something serious, but he let it go for more than he should.

And even when he does like you, he can't be with you like he wants to. He needs to keep his distance, and you are making things more difficult than it should be.

"Go, please." You beg, trying to hold the tears. "Enjoy your party, and I hope you enjoy playing again."

You walk away from him. If he wanted to stand there, you weren't going to see it. You slam the door of your room.

You place a pillow on your face, yelling the frustration on it. Shutting the scream that your heart was letting out.

Gavi left, slamming the door on his way out. He cursed everything that was on his view radar. Blaming himself and his stupid boy mind. But not enough for him to turn around and do the right thing.

You cry into your pillow. You are hurt and confused about why he was acting like that.

He wasn't your Pablo, the one who brings you flowers just because.

He wasn't your Pablo, the one who takes you out on dates and walks after training because he misses you. Even when he saw you before training.

He wasn't your Pablo.

But not even Pablo was your Pablo.

You feel tired and falling asleep during the crying process.

When you woke up with a headache and puffy red eyes, you know it wasn't a dream. Gavi just told you that he doesn't see you the way you see him.

You got up, walked to your bathroom, and washed your face. You shrugged and decided to take a shower.

Your day began good, you even had some fun time with Aurora. Who would've thought that I was going to be the last time you did that.

You slowly do your night routine, trying to feel better. As if that's what you need. You order take out and decide to eat it while watching your show.

When you get tired, you open your Instagram. The first post is a story Gavi posted. You click on it and enter his profile, unfollowing him.

You think for a second. Angerly deciding that you were not only going to do that but also blocking him in the process.

You went then to your feed, refreshing it after a while. It didn't have anything good for you to engage.

You move to Twitter. The first thing you find is a tweet about this girl named Antonella. She apparently was Gavi's new fling.

You read through the tweets, finding out that she was the girl that the Instagram comments were talking about.

You read that someone mentioned her Instagram account. Deciding that it wasn't enough pain for one day, you went back to Instagram. Searching her.

You click her profile, noticing something very interesting. She follows you. You clicked on "follow back" requesting to follow her.

You don't have to wait that long after she accepts your follow request. You go straight to her posts, stalking her like a crazy fan.

You find something very interesting. Gavi liked and commented on her posts. But that didn't really surprised you.

It was Aurora's likes and comments on her page. Commenting like she knew her from all her life. You were closed to the two of them, and you can't remember anyone with that name or that looks.

You click on her story, only to find out why Gavi didn't want you at his barbecue.

antogmz has added to her story

You know Pablo a little too much to recognize him. And even if you have a little doubt about it, the background gives you all the answers.

He was at his house. He threw a party with all the friends you thought you two shared. But they aren't your friends if they know he's with someone else and decide to hide it from you.

You block your screen. Tired of going out of your way to make Gavi someone so on top of everything. You can't keep putting him before you. Not anymore.

What hurt you the most was that Aurora knew about it.

You can't blame her for siding with Gavi. She's his sister, so it was obvious that she was going to prioritize him over you.

But when you asked her if Pablo was seeing someone else, she denied it. Telling you that he likes you and that he only thinks about you.

She lied to you, giving you fake expectations.

You blink the tears away. You don't want to cry. You already feel dumb enough to keep humiliating yourself for him.

After a while, you open your phone again, you don't want to think about him. You start to see the insta stories of your friends.

That's when you see the one from Aurora.

aurorapaezg has added to her closefriends.

You see the tags on her story. It was everyone. The only one who wasn't invited was you. And you can't get mad, the sadness overpowering every feeling.

You tried to distract yourself, checking your feed again to see what's happening. Maybe finding a funny video or something. But no.

You click on that one picture even when you know it was going to hurt.

gavixpedri

Liked by 2,284 others

gavixpedri New picture of Gavi and his alleged girlfriend @antogmz in his Barcelona home.

There's rumors that she's going to be at the game against Sevilla. If that's true, then this will confirm their relationship.

Gavi and Anto have been linked up since a few weeks ago. People from Sevilla mentioned that he was seen with her on different occasions.

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gavilover9 I thought aurora's friend was his girlfriend

gavixpedri No 😭 she's only a friend after all

barcamessi10 this is the hardest launch I've ever experienced 😭😭😭 he was in recovery a few weeks ago and now he has a girlfriend

gavixpedri I knowwww 😔 we missed a lot of chapters. I stayed at the one where Y/n and him were allegedly a thing 😭

This was from the same night that he left you waiting on the restaurant. He was with her.

You try to stay as low profile as you could. Gavi tried to contact you over text and tried calling. You left all his messages go to voice mail and made sure to mark as read all his texts.

You were coming back from Uni when you found that particular car parked in front of your house. You take your keys out, walking without stopping.

You were about to walk inside your house when you felt an arm pulling you away from the door.

"Just give me five minutes." He begged.

"No!" You say, stern tone. "Let go off me." You order him.

"Four?"

"Let go off me, Pablo." You say again.

"Only one, please. I'm begging you." He beggs.

Those stupid puppy eyes he has are making the devils work. You can't say no to that, and he knows it.

"I'm counting, so you better start talking." You say, lifting your arm to see your watch.

He let go of your arm. "I'm fucking sorry I ever spoke to you in that way." He says, words coming out of his mouth as if he was rapping some Eminem song. "You are someone I find really important to me, and if I ever gave you the impression of liking you is because I really do. I just don't want to hurt you." He pauses to take a break.

You pull your arm down. "Ironic, cause you did hurt me." You say, trying not to sound so harsh.

"And I really regret everything. You are my friend and I shouldn't have played you like I did. I really want you back in my life. I just don't know how to work as a partner. That's why when you never asked me to label our relationship, I was fine with it because you were too."

"Did I ever tell you I was okay with that?" You ask, interrupting him.

He shakes his head no. "I'm sorry."

"Fine, apology accepted." You say. "Now, your time is over. Have a nice day, Pablo."

You were about to turn, but his hands stopped you. "I have this for you." He says, handing you a pass.

"What is this?" You ask confused, not taking it in your hands.

"It's a pass for tonight's match." He smiles. "I'm finally playing, and I want you there. You helped me in my recovery, and I can't thank you enough." He says, scratching the back of his neck. "I know I'm an asshole, I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But please, please, please come to the game." He says, begging again.

You look at the pass in his hand, not sure if you should take it or not.

"Please, at least take it and think about it." He says.

You nod, grabbing the pass from him. You then turn back and walk into your house. You close the door after you.

You look at the pass, it says your number and your seat. < Seat 332 >

Just like always.

You left the pass on your table. Not quite sure if you should go. What if his friends and family looked at you weirdly over you coming to his game?

You shake that idea out of your mind. Gavi's family loved you. Maybe not as his partner, but as the girl who helped him during his worse times.

And that was something nobody was taking from you. Ever.

You try to not think about the pass. You clean your house, you cooked lunch, you watch your show.

You even take a shower, something refreshing.

When you open your closet, you see the jersey. Mayne ut was a sign. Maybe you should go.

You take it as a sign for you to go. You changed into something appropriate for the game. You apply some light makeup and walk out to the stadium.

You were late, and you got into the stadium thanks to Gavi's pass. He asked beforehand for you to be allowed to get in, even if it was only a few minutes left of the game.

A security officer walks you to the vip section. You thank him for allowing you in, he just nodded and left.

You walk into the vip section. Standing over at the doors of the door that's dividing the seats from the lobby.

You noticed that Gavi was about to get subbed in. Everyone on the section was standing and clapping for him.

You can hear people chanting and screaming his name. Everyone was happy about it.

They were all too excited that people didn't really take a seat during the last eleven minutes of the game. That's all that Gavi played, including extra time.

People clapped at the fact that Barca won five to one. You can feel the tears in your eyes.

The longest eleven months of your life. At the same time, those months were short when it came to helping Pablo recover.

Pablo was looking over at the section you were in. People are still up, slowly seating down because it is the vip section. People don't just walk away.

Then the people that left are gone, and people are seated back. You were about to walk into your seat but you noticed something.

She was in your seat.

You look back at the field, finding his eyes on you. You move your eyes from him to the seat. Where she was waving her hand trying to get his attention.

You feel your vision getting blurry. Understanding that it wasn't your seat to take anymore.

It was hers.

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl 🤍

[peppertoastuniverse]

more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 9: donuts

contents: gojo satoru x reader, really bad flirting attempts, swearing, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, gojo calls you babe, forced proximity summary: after returning from kyoto, gojo asks you to sneak out with him to get late night donuts. after he gives you a thoughtful gift, you can't help but admit that he makes you happy wc: 7.7k

he tsks impatiently. “just say it!” he stomps his foot irritatedly, leaning closer to you. “s’okay, i know you’re shy. here, here – i’ll start – i missed you when i was away, babe.” he says ruffling the back of his hair, the white strands picking up the artificial fluorescence of the street lights above. it looked as if he were glowing. “thanks.” “no! that’s not what you’re supposed to say!!!” throwing his hands up exasperatedly, deflating entirely at your words. “you’re so bad at this, babe,” he groans, his arm settling around your shoulders.

previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter

gojo groans as he stretches out on the too small shinkansen seat, his bored blue eyes failing to take in the rapidly moving landscape through the window. as he antsily bounces his leg up and down he couldn’t help but exhale dramatically. gojo just wanted to be in his room – to him nothing seemed like more of a punishment than being bored. after being forced to come back to kyoto to help plan for the “future of the gojo clan," his fuse was running dangerously short. tsking, he knew should have listened to himself and snuck out a few days earlier like he had planned to, but they kept him on a tight leash — unfortunately some things never change. though gojo had to give himself some credit, having endured two painfully boring days into his week-long stay before causing any trouble. he was lucky to escape when he did but just he wished he could've saved himself the trouble of having to sit in those stupid meetings listening to dull clan politics and old people waffle on about outdated ideals and nonsense standards.. the final straw was the lengthy discussion of the importance of the colour of this year’s ceremonial plates – after that meeting he knew he had to get out of there at any cost. taking his glasses off, he rubbed his eyes irritatingly – after everything he's been through, his terrible mood was warranted. but what added to his bad mood was the lack of a text from a certain someone. he sighs, irritation slowly melting away the closer he got to tokyo – the further away from the gojo estate the better.  looking at the darkening grey skies through the windows of the shinkansen, he closes his eyes to ease the pounding of his head. but a vibration in his pocket instantly puts a smile on his face and soothes the ache in his messy mind. hoping that it was you, he quickly grabs his phone to check his messages.

♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: gojo (8:33pm) gojo: yes my grumpy girl? ♡♡♡♡♡ (8:34pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: where are you? (8:39pm)

gojo smiles hopefully, was it getting hot in here or something? 

did you miss him? were you thinking about him while he was away? he hoped you did. placing his glasses back on his face, dark lenses hiding the growing hearts in his eyes. 

gojo: (,,♡ᵕ♡,,) OH WHY B DO YOU MISS ME I MISS U TOO IM ON THE (8:44pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: no (8:44pm) gojo: VERGE OF TEARS ALL THE TIME (8:45pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: stop it (8:45pm) gojo: DW IM ON MY WAY HOME (8:46pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: where are you? (8:47pm) gojo: ILL SEE U RIGHT AWAY WHEN I GET BACK PROMISE ( • ̀ω•́ )✧ (8:49pm) 

gojo watches as you type and stop, chuckling to himself. he suspects that you’ve either thrown your phone in embarrassment at his antics or was struggling to figure out what to say – most likely both. he could just imagine the cute way that you would flush, your defiant eyes juxtaposing the sweetness you tried to bury. were you hanging out with suguru and shoko in the common room right now? perhaps it was movie night, shoko would’ve probably chosen some sort of murder mystery or rom com, but he knew you preferred sci-fi. or maybe you were in your room at your desk, probably reading some novel that suguru recommended, too engrossed in the novel to turn on more lights. 

 ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: omg dude where are you? (8:52pm) gojo: just left kyoto, clan shit i got you a souvenir (8:54pm ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: its ok, dw abt me (8:55pm) gojo: I already bought it ur gonna luv it b ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) (8:56pm

satisfied, he shuts his flip phone. adjusting his body to comfortably slump in his seat, he wondered how something so simple could drastically change his mood. taking a look at the time, he grins as he counts down the hours it takes for him to see you again. 

lying in bed you melt deeper into your covers as the night wanes on. the quiet of your room is only disturbed by you gently turning the page of the novel that suguru had lent you. you had chosen to go to bed early and you were surprised that your plans had for once come to fruition – it really was the perfect evening, quiet and relaxing. perhaps that was due to gojo’s absence –  it was almost too quiet when he went away. the lonely silence keeping you company in his place. you were growing accustomed to gojo’s larger than life presence, his laugher decorating your life with light. his once irritating and crude words morphing into fun and playful comments that would make you unexpectedly laugh. gojo had a tendency to conjure something more colourful and silly out of you – qualities that you thought you no longer had the capacity of, losing them the day that your sister died. but with him around, things just seemed more amusing, their corners less sharp and painful, his bright laugh cushioning you from the harshness of the world. and you hated to admit it. 

the vibration of your phone on your bedside table pulls you from your disgusting thoughts

but maybe that was him.. did he get bac - wait why did that matter? ughhh.

moving to hastily mark your place in your book, you roll over with curiosity to grab your phone. 

gojo: u up? (12:48am) you: you did not just send me a u up text (1:05am) gojo: not like that b! ( ˵ •̀ □ •́ ˵ ) ur already up anyway (1:07am) you: no im not (1:13am)

you jump as you suddenly hear your bedroom door handle jiggle impatiently, your phone on your bed vibrating with a vengeance. 

is he fucking serious right now? the audacity of this guy, it was past midnight – 

gojo: BABE! (1:14am)

you groan softly, you were in bed already. comfy. cozy. ignoring the disturbance, you turn to lie on your side, your back facing the door you shrug your comforter over your head. 

gojo: IF U DON’T ANSWER IM GONNA SCREM (1:16am)

the glow from your phone illuminates your face under the blankets as you snicker softly at his messages. there’s no way that gojo would scream – he didn’t have the balls. you decide to call his bluff and settle deeper into your comfortable pillow, empty hands searching for bun bun beside you, ignoring your constantly vibrating phone.

gojo: AND WAKE EVERYONE UP RN RN BABE!!!!!! (1:18am)

you reach for bun bun, playing with his long soft ears absentmindedly, mildly aware of your impatient phone or the rattling of your doorknob – gojo could wait, bun bun was too cute to ignore. 

gojo: FINE OK U ASKED FOR THIS (1:20am)

suddenly you hear the beginning of gojo screeching, hastily you run to your door, immediately grabbing him by the collar of his uniform, you slap your hand roughly against his too loud mouth. you bite your lip to prevent a satisfied smile from creeping on your face as you successfully muffle the obnoxious intruder. “what to fuck is wrong with you?!!” you shout whisper as you shove his chest with your other hand, his long legs stumbling deeper into your dim room. “you’re gonna get us in detention!” you berate him taking in his disheveled appearance, his eyes wide as saucers, his glasses askew on his face. “do you not fucking hear how loud you were?!” you whisper angrily to him, giving him a death glare while hesitantly removing your hand off his soft lips. gojo’s eyebrows twitch in amusement, only adding fuel to the fire in yours. “see! look what you did! you woke up bun bun!” you gesture to your pink stuffie, jostled in the rush to answer the door, his little legs dangling pathetically in the air. gojo flops into your bed with a strange familiarity that oddly makes your chest feel too tight. with a sheepish look he makes to grab the stuffed animal, “i’m sorry, buddy,” he whispers too sincerely as he rights the pink bunny, “i didn’t know you were sleepin’ – that was uncalled for." he tucks bun bun back into your bed gently, grabbing your beige comforter and patting his head comfortingly attempting to lull him back to sleep, stopping for a moment playing with his long floppy ears. you pull a face. “why are you so nice to him and not to me?” you pout, hoping your heated gaze burns a hole in the side of his head. gojo looks up at you with an obnoxious frown, “i’m actually really nice to you, babe,” he says seriously, still patting bun bun’s soft head. “oh, so disturbing me at like 1 in the morning is being nice?” you say sinking onto your bed, folding your legs underneath you. “i literally just got back and you were already up. n’ i told ya i’d see you. i tried getting back sooner, but y’know – shit happens.” he says simply, taking a seat next to you while playing with the edge of your plush comforter. “shit happens.” you repeat rolling your eyes, debating on whether you should just try to get back into bed and kick him out of your room or ask him about his trip in kyoto. undecided, you rip your soft comforter from his grasp and throw on the comforter over your legs to ease your decision making. still dressed in a warm coat over his uniform, past his usually bright eyes and toothy smile, you noticed that gojo almost looked deflated, his shoulders still tense with something you didn’t understand. you frown. “c’mon let’s getting donuts,” he offers, knocking his knee playfully against yours before you move away from him in a huff. conscious about your stale silence, he started to worry that he underestimated your annoyance with his admittedly unorthodox methods at getting your attention. but he couldn’t help it, he was excited to be home – excited to see you. ­­­­­­ “we can get ones ya like…” he tests, leaning closer towards you, noting that you didn’t shy away from him this time. he boldly pokes your stiff shoulder, subtly trying to get you to look at him or for you to give him a more obvious sign that you weren’t totally upset at him. 

“...y’know  that place in chiyoda?” gojo tries, fist against his leaning cheek, unaffecting his triumphant smile as he sees your ears perk up, knowing he got your attention. you turn your head considering your options. normal donuts were always good, but donuts in chiyoda? those were your absolute favourite. you remembered when you received an earful when suguru bought a half dozen after his mission nearby and you ate 4 of them before suguru could even have one. whoops, ya snooze ya lose, sugu. gojo had a good laugh at suguru scolding you, probably amused at someone other than himself being the focus of an infamous suguru scolding. in apology, you went to to get him another half dozen, not telling him that you had actually gotten him a full dozen but had eaten six donuts on the train ride back. suguru could tell by the sugar on your sleeves, but he appreciated it all the same and he understood, those donuts were delicious. 

you recognized that gojo was playing dirty.. but donuts are any anytime food, perhaps it wouldn’t – wait. shaking your head, you had to think logically. 

you noticed that being around satoru gojo made you make more… irrational decisions,  choices that you wouldn’t normally make. gojo had that effect on people, lowering their IQ by many points just being in the vicinity – that was a fact. 

“how, dude? curfew happened hours ago, if yaga finds out.. .i mean i’ll be fine but you?" you sneer, "you’re getting a shaved head and suguru will make fun of you so badly you’ll cry. i'm not dealing with boohoo-ing gojo, you’re already annoying when you’re happy.” gojo groans at your comment, his nose scrunching up in annoyance. 

“pff as if suguru could make me cry!” he scoffs, “yaga won’t find out.” you cross your arms across your chest, giving him an exasperated look at gojo’s ego on full display. 

“yeah, uh huh,” you mutter disbelief oozing from your body language. 

“you forget who you’re talking to babe,” he smirks cockily as you roll your eyes at him. 

“then what do you suggest, oh honoured one?” you spit sarcastically, not missing the way he sticks his tongue out at you, as you mirror him in response.

pff he was so childish. 

“i could teleport us there,”  shooting you a proud look.

“..what?! when did you manage that!?”  

he smiles cockily, “earlier this week, when you were in nagoya!” he puffs his chest out, pleased with your impressed stare.

you knew that he was working hard to perfect his teleportation. more than a few times gojo would saunter in pompously during the middle of your sparring sessions with suguru, somehow always annoyingly interrupting when you were on top of suguru just on the verge of pining him. you and geto even started making a bet at the beginning of each sparring session as to what time gojo would make his appearance. you’d laugh in victory when you would win, making the groaning geto buy your favourite chips at the corner store. or on the rare occasion when he’d win, you’d buy his favourite seaweed rice crackers. 

gojo would loudly insist that you and suguru keep him company while he was training, complaining that he needed the distraction so that he would be able to easily teleport during  chaotic missions. he’d even make you stay after geto had retreated for the night, insisting that he still needed your help. begrudgingly you often found yourself sitting crossed legged on the gym mats, watching him with equal parts curiosity and exasperation. his usually blue buggy eyes closed in concentration. his brows furrowed, his shoulder still, his usual chaotic energy cloaked in an almost eerie silence. gojo was undoubtedly hardworking and persistent  – most likely the results of strict training implemented when he was young. you were glad that he accomplished his goals albeit admittedly  a bit annoyed that you weren’t there to see it first hand. 

“pleaseeeeee, let’s goooo. you’re thinking too hard about it grumps!” he turns to you dramatically, gearing up for a lengthy conversation to convince – to beg you even – to go with him. but he’s used to it.

gojo had a smart mouth, one that he cultivated during his youth. growing up he’s learned to weaponize his strengths, easily talking his way out of many things. effortlessly convincing shoko and to a lesser extent suguru to actively participate in his mischief. like that one time after a rare mission with you and suguru, he convinced his best friend that the spiciest ramen in ginza wasn’t even that big of a deal and that if anyone could do it, suguru surely could. you could still remember gojo’s manic laughter as suguru downed two cartons of milk as you patted his back while rolling your eyes. Or when shoko had told you about that infamous time last year before your arrival when gojo had convinced suguru and her to jump in the ocean with him in naha in the middle of a particularly frigid october resulting in all of them getting sick for a week – yaga was not happy.

gojo was used to getting what he wanted and never failed to resort to playing dirty if he really had to. satoru gojo always got what he wanted. although you were a harder case to crack with the right approach, an abundance of patience and a bit of luck, he could convince you. perhaps if he applied some logic to his fun, amazing, incredible adventure, you’ll surely fold, right? 

“look, i swear I can get us back in half an hour, tops. no one will notice, i’ll even – ”

“okay.”

he blinks at you. 

what? that’s it? that was easy. you were always surprising him.  

“w-what?” his trilogy of groveling disappearing instantly on his tongue at the sight of your teasing smile.

“let’s go, I wanna get that yuzu donut they have,” you say as you grin up at him, amused by his confused face. giggling at his rare silence, gojo watches you ecstatically as you stand to rustle through your dresser, quickly picking out a warm sweater and some soft pants and practically skipping into your bathroom to change.

gojo scoffs, almost disbelievingly, a hand reaching behind his head to card his hands through his hair. a soft grin creeping on his face at how you easily smiled at him. a few months ago, he’d have to almost beg you to do anything with him. hell, it took him almost two months and daily nagging to get you to sit beside him at lunch when you first arrived. nowadays, you’d let him lounge in your room or even text him first sometimes, he’d catch you grinning at him more than pouting – the thought made him giggly, a weird fluttering feeling exploding in his stomach. 

happily he tosses his body deeper into your bed to cuddle bun bun, excitedly whispering to him about his plans- luckily bun bun was a good listener.

hearing his soft baritone, you turn your head to see what he was up to. promptly turning around before he could see your creeping smile, you attempt to shooing away the warm staticky feeling that bloomed within you when you sneak a peak gojo’s warm expression. he strangely didn’t look out of place laying in your bed, easily blending into with all of your other personal belongings. you wondered when your room became the place where he was found more regularly. 

finally shutting your bathroom door, you hear his muffled laugh as you quickly change out of your pajamas. before you could wonder what he was up to, you see an alert flash on your phone: a photo from gojo. exhaling through your nose, you flip open your phone to see that he sent a photo of himself and bun bun, the stuffie’s pink little arms around gojo’s beaming face, the bunny’s cheek leaning on gojo’s. you giggle, saving the photo immediately before shrugging your head into your sweater.

“… okay? so this will be our little secret, bun – i’m serious!  i’m counting on you.” you hear him say seriously to the plushie as you shut the bathroom door, facing gojo with a raised eyebrow.

“what are you poisoning his mind with, gojo?”

“sheesh, babe. nothing! just guy talk, you wouldn’t get it.” you roll your eyes as he rises from your bed before looking back to ensure that bun bun was still tucked in comfortably.

“okay, so how does this work?” you ask him, as he grunts, distractingly stretching out his too long body, his joints popping. 

“well, the more surface area i'm in contact with while I teleport, the easier it’ll be for me –”

your eyes widen. surface area? does that  mean –

“- to get us to our destination accurately. which means, babe – c’mere.” he moves closer to you, almost chest to chest, arms reaching around you. you can feel the warmth radiating off of his body, his comforting scent close and aggressive. 

“uh – what?” you ask, surprised at the quick closeness, placing a hand on his firm chest to prevent him from moving any closer. gojo rolls his eyes sassily, his arms falling limply at his side.

“this worked the best. me and baby did some tests. i had suguru touch my shoulder, hold my hand and then hug me. naturally, the hug got the most accurate results, ‘cause ya know, surface area. but babe, like  sugu actually smells so good, m’not sure what it is but, he definitely changed his shower gel or something ‘cause he smells different but like good diff – ”

you cackle loudly. “pff – i bet suguru hated that hug. he probably showered twice to get the extra stupid off him.” you poke at him, deflecting easily hoping he doesn’t sense your nervousness.

“hey don’t be mean! that’s not the point! the point is, that’s what worked the best.”

you avoid his stare as you fidget with the buttons of your coat that you shrugged on, the low warm lighting of the room almost amplifying your nerves. 

why were you even feeling this way?

you trusted gojo, you knew that he'd get you there safely, you never questioned his abilities, you saw how hard he trained, you knew he was capable. was it the proximity?  but you were used to him sitting too close to you or poking your cheeks, but somehow lately things were different. you could no longer ignore how grossly your heart would flutter when he was near you or how you would annoyingly grin when he texted you. you couldn’t keep away from him any longer, and that annoyed you. 

he cocks his head to the side studying your strange silence, “..hey, it’s okay to be nervous.” 

“m’ not nervous…” you mumbled. sure, you'd let him believe that you were nervous just because of teleporting.

“if you’re not comfy with it you can just hold my arm or something." 

you nod shyly, avoiding looking into his eyes, too proud to see your embarrassment reflected in them. "ughhh guess i'll just have to work a little harder," he teasingly groans, hoping to make you smile. 

when you dont say anything he tries again, moving his hand to rub your shoulder, hoping to reassure you. "i got you.” he says, head turning to decipher your loaded expression. “i wont let anything happen to you, i swear." he whispers seriously.

catching your breath, you meet his unwavering gaze before slowly lowering your hand on his chest. instead you move to gently hook your arm around his right bicep. he smiles encouragingly at you, still soothingly rubbing your arm. you feel his towering stare as your cheeks heat up. his eyes twinkle, like being close this close to you was normal.

he lowers his head, "hold on tight, kay?" he whispers as you feel his arm wind around your waist. 

“gojo, you’d better get us there or else.” 

“c’mon babe! i promise! where’s the trust?” he says brightly as you scoff, shaking your head. 

“god, your ego is bigger than all of japan –”

“heh, not as big as my –”

your eye twitches in irritation. for the second that night you find your hands over gojo’s mouth, berating him of his idiotic behavior.

“ geez okay grumps” he says jerking his head back, “now let’s get those donuts!” he says enthusiastically after shrugging your hands away from his face with a smile, once again trying to ease the pout off of your face.  

you squeeze your eyes shut, increasing your grip on him, concentrating on how his soft hand felt around you. 

if you were with him, it would be fine – you trusted him before, this would be a walk in the park, right?

feeling the cool breeze on your face, accompanied by a gojo’s soft squeeze. you gently open your eyes. “see babe! we’re – oh shit heh...” 

you feel his hand on your waist, pull you closer to him. the too bright lights cause you to blink in confusion. you take a look around you, a large grand temple – wait what? sensō-ji?! that must mean you were not in chiyoda.. but in asakusa which was – 

you detach yourself from gojo’s still arm around you, crossing your arms poutily, you facing him defiantly. his eyes widen behind his glasses at your scalding expression. “hey! no, look – okay this doesn’t happen very often, trust me. i swear –” 

“this is nowhere near, chiyoda, gojo!” “it’s not that far babe, we got legs right? we can wa–” “an hour and a half away.” “i dont know why that even happened – hmm, did you feel anything funny? maybe you weren’t close enough?” “okay, this isn’t my fault!” 

“no,no, no, no –  i’m not saying it is, babe! i guess got nervous – “ “don’t blame this on performance anxiety, gojo! you have to always be prepared, what if we were on a mission! we would’ve been fucked.” 

he whines your name. “i always –” “oh my god, it doesnt fucking matter! we’re so far!” “lemme try again!” he pleads, moving closer to you, eager to please you.. but you quickly sit down on the cold ground, your legs folding underneath you stubbornly. “nope. i’m not teleporting. i’m not going anywhere.” you say firmly, your eyes giving away a streak of mischief that gojo doesn’t miss. 

gojo playful rolls his eyes and plops down next to you, leaning towards you at a dramatic angle so his shoulder touches yours. 

“one more chance.” he whines, as you stubbornly turn your back at him with a hmph. “c’mon, grumps – just one more! please?” he gently leans his head into the center of your back, repeatedly head butting your back like a stubborn little sheep. “you’re gonna teleport us further from the donuts.” you say looking up at the clear night sky, your act of being furious faltering slightly at the feeling of his head prodding you. he was ridiculous.  “no more teleporting. let’s just take the train or something.” “noooooo c’mon let’s walk then, grumps. it’ll be fun. me and you time!” 

“nope. you said you’d get us there, and you didn’t uphold your promise.” 

“i mean… technically, i promised to get us there but not the mode of transportation–” 

“i dont give a fuck about technicalities, dude.” 

“okay, okay, fine – get on.” he gets up into a crouch, a long hand gesturing for you to get on his back. “..what?” you scrunch up your nose in confusion. “get on. i’m strong enough to walk for us both, since you’re soooooooo lazy!” “you cant be serious.” you say scoffing, turning your body to face him slightly surprised by his serious face, expecting him to be joking. “why, you scared?” he asks, his glasses sliding down his slender nose. you catch his twinkling eyes. “didn’t know lil ol'grumps was scared of the most powerful, handsome, charming sorcerer of the modern age, satoru go–”  

your eyes narrow challengingly.

fuck it. if he wants to play, fine, you’ll fucking play. you had enough of his ego tonight. 

launching yourself with a burst of energy of something to prove, you practically jump on his back, your strong legs wrapping around his torso in a piggyback. “oompf!” he grunts at the abrupt contact, his bright laugh echoing through the empty street as he easily catches you, quickly reaching back grabbing your thighs. “you’re so spoiled, babe.” he says, shaking his head with a smile. 

“you’re the one who offered!” you hiss with a shove to his shoulder. 

ensuring that you were on snugly, he carefully stands up at full height. gojo laughs boisterously as he feels your arm hastily scramble to wind around his neck for balance. you never realised how tall gojo was. did he always see the world from this angle? being this high above the ground, you were slightly wary. you knew that if he dropped you it would hurt, so you had to mentally prepare for the pain when he couldn’t hold you any longer, for when he got tired of holding you up. the fall was inevitable. but feeling his soft breath on your arm, breathing in his familiar scent, a small hope bloomed in your heart when you considered that maybe, just maybe he would catch you. 

“onward! to donuts!” he playfully proclaims loudly, his steps quickening, enjoying how he feels your quiet laugh though his back, the warmth of your laughter renewing him with energy. 

draping your arms tighter around his neck you can’t help but allow your body to relax – he was unusually comfortable. you listen to gojo waffle on about the intricacies of digimon or complaining how shoko stole his conditioner the other day, “but joke’s on her, it’s actually suguru’s. i steal his all the time, that idiot hasn’t even realised yet.” 

“oh man, wait ‘til i tell suguru..” you snicker, unclasping your hands around his neck to take out your phone from your coat pocket. with a gasp, gojo jostles you obnoxiously, causing you to throw your arms around his neck again in an attempt to hold on. 

“hey! i almost dropped my phone, you ass. you’re such a baby.” you huff, making a mental note to still tell suguru as punishment for being tossed around like a sack of potatoes. 

“i have no idea what you’re going on about!” he says with a mischievous smile. 

“soooo, what were you like as a kid, babe?” he asks. “what do you mean?” you ask, caught off guard by his unusual question. “what was baby grumps like?” 

“what do you mean? me but just smaller.” you deadpan, continuing to absentmindedly stare up at the starless sky, it looked pretty from his point of view. 

“so, you’re tellin’ me that you’ve always been this grumpy, damn i feel sorry for – ouch, just a joke! i was just joking! ” he whines as you lightly tug on his hair. 

“m’ only grumpy around dumbasses.” you sarcastically smile at him. 

“pff you’re the dumbass, dumbass. okay, okay. well then what did you do to have fun with your friends?” he questions, easily carrying you through the darkening streets. “i… uh read books, and i’d cook..” 

“no, not nerd stuff, like fun stuff. did you sneak out? get up to some trouble with your friends or something?” “.. uh no. this is my first time sneaking out.” “no fucking way, babe!” he turns his head to meet yours. you blink, annoyed that your blushing face was prominent in the reflection of his dark glasses. you lean back slightly, unnerved at the sudden closeness of his face to yours, you could almost imagine the feeling of the brush of his cheek against yours or the feeling of his long eyelashes against your skin. 

“i mean… it’s kinda new that i have people to share things with...” you mumble, focusing your eyes on the button of his uniform instead of his distracting face, your twitching hands clasping tightly around his neck. 

“yeah, i get that.” he chimes in quickly, his warm hand squeezes your thigh gently, offering comfort. “but it’s fun though, even when it’s a little scary isn’t it?”

you nodded. maybe you weren’t so different, you and gojo. you were starting to see the cracks in his mask, or maybe you just knew him better or he was letting you see him – either way, you decided that knowing satoru wasn’t all that bad. 

“did you sneak out when you were a kid?” “uh,duh! no way i’d stay in that hellhole longer than I had to. everything and everyone was super traditional and boring.” 

you hum in understanding, gojo was never one for tradition often getting in trouble with the higher ups, yaga and even occasionally geto. although you understood the need for it, you did see gojo’s point – tradition did sound rather stiff and limiting. you couldnt imagine the security and pressure a child of the big three clans faced growing up, but gojo’s childhood must have been one that you couldn’t fathom. “where’d you go then?” you asked, enjoying the warmth radiating off of him, cozy and comfy as you leaned your chin on his shoulder, his soft coat against your cheek. “i’d wait til everyone was asleep and just wander around town.” 

“where’d you like to go?” 

“heian-jingu is pretty peaceful at night, i liked feeding the koi. heh, did you know, they like peas?” you giggle, “you fed them peas, gojo?” “well i tried different things! but i could sneak peas out of the kitchens the easiest and they liked them the best.” he counters, side stepping a puddle on the dark streets, “sneaking out was great until i got caught.” 

“eh? did you get in trouble?” “oh for sure, babe. but i’m the chosen one, so like, what could they do? stop me?” he jeers,  catching your grimace. “you’re such a brat.” you amusedly snort, catching his bright eyes behind his glasses. “you think im fun! im a cool brat though, right? i’m cool!” 

“mmmhm” you tease him, enjoying the little pout that threatens to grow on his face. “you must’ve been happy when you started at school, hey? must have been a big adjustment.” “god yeah, ya have no idea.” he says, “i couldn’t imagine that people lived like this all the time.” “like what?” you tilt your head. “with all this freedom.” “mhm, and… happiness.” you add softly, so quietly that you think he misses it. but when gojo turns to look at you with an expression you don’t quite understand and a slight nod, you wonder if that’s the only thing he’s heard. 

you blink in understanding as you lean down to lean your cheek against his shoulder. with the dark sky above and the silence of the streets acting as your only other companions, your mind wanders at the thought of you and gojo’s shared relief and confusion at finding a home at jujutsu tech. loneliness recognizes loneliness after all.  

and in this moment suspended in time, with your legs dangling in the cold air, thighs being held up by his strong hands, feeling his soft laughter against your chest  – you cant help but think that perhaps you might have found another home. 

gojo watches you in amusement as you happily carry your donut in a little paper bag, practically running to the bench at the park near the store. when you were happy, it was easy to tell – it radiated through your whole body, every part of you perked up in delight. 

he smiled at how happy this donut made you – these simple things. gojo was already planning to take you to other places, maybe to fancier donuts since you liked them so much. or he could teleport you to try that donut place in kumamoto or maybe to get the matcha mochi donuts ones in kyoto since you liked matcha so much, maybe he could take you to heian-jingu and find out if the koi liked donuts. he hoped they did, because that would definitely make you laugh. if you were there with him, kyoto wouldn’t be as bad even with the gojo estate being so close by. as he took his seat next to you on the bench, stretching out his long limbs, he felt his worries from earlier in the day disappear, your presence giving him new light. he grins, unwrapping his own donut. 

sighing dreamily as you take a bite out of your yuzu cream donut you softly groan in delight, finally getting what you were craving for all night. you were grateful that this place was 24 hours, this shop was your favourite ever since shoko showed it to you when you first arrived. god, you needed to thank her. “oy!” he says resting his head on your shoulder, you stare down at him with annoyance, ignoring the way his soft hair tickles your neck. 

“babe tax.”  he says simply, opening his expectant mouth. 

you sigh, shrugging him off your shoulder, you just wanted another bite and you were running out of patience. “small bite gojo – gooojoo!” you whine as you watch gojo unlatch his jaw, ready to take the rudest bite out of your donut. “– small bite!! I SAID SMALL –” “mmrphhhfff – that was a small bite!” he says with his mouth full, defending himself from your weak shove. with a defiant look, you lean down and take a rather large bite of his chocolate cream donut that he was holding as he rolls his eyes. 

“geez babe, you’re so bad at sharing.”  

“mhm, y’know that chocolate one is pretty good,” you say as you thoughtfully chew your stolen bite. 

“yeah? you wanna switch?” “nah, mine’s better.” you smile at him as he watches hypnotized by your tongue darting out to lick the chocolate cream off of your lip. 

“y’good?” you ask, catching his stare, his eyes quickly darting down to his chocolate donut. 

“ah, yeah. yeah, i am.” he recovers quickly, pink dusting the tips of his ears. 

you nod as you take another bite of your donut, too busy enjoying the contrast of the crunch of the sugar granules that lace the outside the pillowy dough of your sweet treat, the contrast of the slight tang of the yuzu pastry cream offers a refreshingly smooth and citrusy palette cleanser. 

“oh yeah! I got you something.” 

you blink owlishly as he rustles through his coat pockets, popping the rest of the chocolate donut easily into his mouth. “you didn’t have to, gojo..” you say shyly. you hated receiving gifts, you always felt awkward receiving something that you probably didn’t deserve. “close your eyes.” he says, wiping the sugar off of his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“... what? why?” you ask, a fourth of your donut still in your hands. “close your eyes – it’ll be fun. trust me.” 

playfully you stuff the last bite of your donut into gojo’s surprised mouth. 

“nmmpfffff babe, really?” his annoyed tone contradicts his softening eyes as you laugh at his cocked eyebrow. he quickly chews his mouthful of your yuzu donut as you dust the sugar from your hands.

hesitantly deciding to indulge him, you close your eyes with a sigh, your twitching palms splayed out. you could practically hear gojo’s excitement as he places a small rounded container into your small hands. opening your eyes you see that it’s a beautiful metal container filled with matcha from kyoto, rendering you speechless. “i just– i thought that.. i know they’re not matcha candies.. i tried looking for them.. but –” whipping your head to his face you see a rare sight – a bashful satoru gojo. your eyes widen. you blink, heart beating in your throat. he.. remembered? “ – whenever you miss your dad, you can have some.” you exhale quickly to ease the fluttering in your stomach. something was quickly building up within you, your eyebrows crinkle at the embarrassment of your watering eyes. your fingers feel the intricate swirling pattern engraved on the matcha tin. “ you don’t have to have it if you don’t like it, babe. i dunno, the lady at the shop said it was the best one they had… don’t worry i wont be offended if yo –” 

he thought you didnt like it? he was ridiculous, he was – you throw caution to the wind. with strange ferocity you launch your betraying body into gojo, your arms finding a familiar home around his neck, your breathing evening out when you feel his warm chest against yours, your beating heart connecting with his. beating stronger now that you feel his surprised arms cage you in his scent, a silent pleased coo sprouting in him. “no. i – .. i love it…” you whisper timidly, hiding your face into his shoulder.  

“yeah?” gojo starts rubbing your side soothingly. he hoped you couldn't see his pink cheeks in the dim light. he couldnt help but notice the way your frame felt that you easily slotted against his, the perfect fit. 

“hey.. uhm.. i .. just thank you.” 

he hums as you slowly release your hold on him – too soon for his liking. “you okay?” 

you nod, focusing your attention on the tin, trying to ignore the comforting way that one of his arms was still hooked comfortably around your waist. 

“hey, no running now, grumps,” he speaks softly, looking at you with a loaded expression. “yeah, i’m okay…” you lift your gaze to his, your eyes meeting a gentle blue, a softness you hadn’t seen before from him. 

“y’sure?” you noticed the slight crease in his brow. the warmth in the way that he’d unconsciously rub your side to offer the only form of comfort that he knew from his childhood. a memory of a servant comforting the lonely future of jujutsu society when he cried all those years ago. 

he was sweet when he wanted to be.

you nod. “i just.. i’m overwhelmed, I think.” “well, that’s better than being just whelmed right?” 

“i don’t think that’s a thing, dude.” you chuckle, stepping away from his touch, still holding on to the tin of matcha, the coolness of  the tin and the raised designs distracting you from his all consuming presence. if you were any closer for any longer, you think you’d drown in him. for once you were grateful for his stupid jokes. 

“guess you got up to some fun stuff in kyoto?” you ask, attempting to overcome your embarrassment with grace, playing with a button on your jacket. 

“ughhhhhhh, i guess you could call it that – those hags kept harassing me before i could sneak out. i'm just so glad to be home.” he says running down his face irritatingly. “‘m glad you’re back.” you say softly. you close your eyes immediately, berating yourself at the unintentional admission – it just slipped out , you couldn’t help it. but it was too late to take it back. “oh you are? so ya missed me, eh, babe?” he grins widely as if nothing pleased him more. and nothing has. “no, i’m just saying that it was too quiet when you were gone.” you stubbornly say fervently. he tsks impatiently. “just say it!” he stomps his foot irritatedly, leaning closer to you. “s’okay, i know you’re shy. here, here – i’ll start – i missed you when i was away, babe.” he says ruffling the back of his hair, the white strands picking up the artificial fluorescence of the street lights above. it looked as if he were glowing. “thanks.” “no! that’s not what you’re supposed to say!!!” throwing his hands up exasperatedly, deflating entirely at your words.

“you’re so bad at this, babe,” he groans, his arm settling around your shoulders. “you’re such an idiot, gojo,” you mutter, a new warmth apparent in your tone. but nothing gets past gojo, the warmth in your tone exploding in the pit of his stomach pleasantly. “you missed this idiot. don’t worry, you dont have to say it – i know sugu and shoko can’t bother you like i can,” he says as you allow him to rock your shoulder against his, pulling your body to sit close against him. 

regardless of the truth, you didnt want  to feed his enormous ego any more so you shrug off his arm with a scalding look. as you reach into your jacket pocket to fiddle with your phone charm – a nervous habit that you’ve unconsciously developed. taking out your flip phone your eyes widen in shock. 

“shit! It’s 5AM –” as you stand up quickly, whipping your gaze to gojo. 

“eh?! no way!” gojo stands quickly, dusting his thighs off, while taking out his own phone to confirm the surprising news, he whistles lowly, “damn, 5:13 that’s crazy.” 

“i know, i guess we lost track of time…” “seems like it.. c’mon, i’ll teleport us back” without any fuss you hook your arm with his. playing with the sleeve of his jacket, you hoped that he was more accurate this time, yaga was known to get up early and you needed to get to your rooms before he noticed. sure gojo and geto often got in trouble and were used to the punishments, but you and ieri were more sneaky about your mischief, managing to get away without any reprimanding and you wanted to keep it that way. 

“i’m sure yaga’s still asleep, we’ll be fine…” he mutters, raising an eyebrow as you wind an arm around his back. “just in case,” you whisper as gojo pretends to rolls his eyes, a smile peaking through his twitching lips. 

suddenly, you feel the soft plush of your bed underneath your thighs – your blankets messy right where you left them. releasing the breath you’ve been holding in,  you take in your surroundings unconsciously squeezing gojo’s arm tighter in relief as you hear him chuckle. 

although the bed was messy just like you left it, the colour of your bed sheets and comforter was.. wrong. blinking rapidly, you notice that the room was strangely larger than yours. thick, old books on jujutsu were organized neatly on tall bookshelves where your desk was supposed to be, there were many stuffies around the room in varying sizes some that you vaguely recognized  – “oh fuck – ” he swears loudly, realization on his paling face, an incredulous laugh dancing on his lips. you aggressively drop his arm that you were clinging on to, quickly catching on.

“are you fucking serious right now??!“ you whisper shout at gojo, his tall figure cowering amidst your outburst. “you fucking teleported us right into yaga’s room you fucking idio -“

you feel the mattress shift, and then you feel a familiar cursed energy surge, a tidal wave easily drowning both of you. 

fuck.

 “and what,” yaga’s deep baritone calls, fury carefully held back, “are you two doing up at this hour?” your panicked eyes meet his glowing mischievous ones, a laugh emerging faintly on his grinning face. “babe, run. run right now-” you feel gojo push you off the mattress, as your legs make a break for it. in the distance you hear gojo’s squawking as yaga grabs him easily by the collar. you quickly run across yaga’s room, thinking that you vaguely hear gojo’s smart mouth attempting to lessen the damage with lame excuses. 

yaga yells your name just before you reach the door but you don’t hear it. you’re not sure who’s laughing louder -  you or gojo.

snackies!tags: @starmapz @ghost-buddies

a/n: hi pals, it's been a while! thank you for being patient with this chapter. aren't they sweet? i just need them to get it together! AHH! see you in the comments (,,♡ᵕ♡,,)

[amoressb]

𐙚 bows

pairings : bf!ot7 x reader

synopsis : where he would let you put/wrap bows

lee heeseung - loosely around his neck

this is truly for your eyes only. you wouldn’t let him go out with it around his neck of course. he wears a lot of necklaces so why not give him a special necklace being the loose bow around his neck. now it could lead to other things..or just you two laying down watching a movie, you on his chest messing with the bow a bit giggling at your special privileges.

park jongseong - top of his guitars and wrist

for the guitars, jay went to play one of his guitars only to find them all decorated with bows on the tuning pegs and of course they’re like this because you snuck in a little earlier to put them all on cuz it felt like they were missing something. he didn’t mind of course, not even when you came in to watch him play and put the same pink bow around his wrist so it flows while he plays.

sim jaeyun - around his wrist or finger(s)

if there was something you loved just a bit more about jake besides him and his lips it would be the veins that run from his forearm down to his hands and his fingers. his skin is so soft as well..he’s too pretty. you’d alternate between putting a bow on his wrist or finger maybe even both if you can’t decide. it’s truly mind blowing how a guy can have such soft pretty skin.

park sunghoon - biceps

it’s one of two reasons why the bows are there. either he’s gone to workout and you put the bow there in case any girl tries to make a move he can easily use it to show he’s obviously not interested. now the other reason, which is mostly the reason, is simply because you can’t look away as it’s not too common he shows his arms so when he does..and he flexes them for you..in a tank top or pulls his short sleeve up a bit..now…

kim seonwoo - his hair as pigtails and clips

it always amazes you how incredibly soft his hair is. you love laying down with him or him just laying his head on your lap and you run your fingers through his hair so its only natural you had the urge to put bow clips in his hair. what stunned him were the pigtails you had done with little silk ribbon around them tied into bows. he was so relaxed he didn’t even realize you giggling while making them.

yang jungwon - his torso or waist

it’s unfair to you that he has a more snatched waist than you. his torso being the perfect v shape..ughh too perfect. you HAD to put a pink bow around his waist. the times you put it around his torso it always ends up slipping down to his waist and its the most attractive thing ever since his waist is smaller than his top half, the bow sits so loosely around his waist..you just faint right there. truly a blessing for your eyes only.

nishimura riki - around him completely

he really doesn’t know how he got into this situation. all he remembers is you running to him all happy and now your giggling while tying a silk pink bow over his arms around his torso, everything, completely caging him in while he’s sitting on your bed. you took many pictures of course trying to decide which one would be your new wallpaper, but truly he doesn’t mind at all. do whatever you want. he’s utterly whipped for you.

(note : a bit biased towards niki i love him sm sorry😓; but i would wrap them all completely tbh and also thank you so much for the love on my first post i love you all !!)

[cry-stars]

Komaeda and Dementia: Part 1 of 5: Introduction and Overview of FTD

Hi everyone!

I’m an aspiring Komaedologist with an interest in dementia. I often see people doubting Komaeda’s stated diagnosis of frontotemporal dementia, since it presents differently in him than in the common portrayal of dementia in the media. While his portrayal may not be completely accurate, there is a lot of truth to it, and there are many symptoms visible in-game. I wanted to share a few posts about dementia symptoms that we do see canonically in Komaeda’s portrayals in SDR2 and DR:AE, and share some information regarding his specific diagnosis as opposed to Alzheimers, for example.

I work with people living with dementia as a recreation worker. This means that I see them living their daily lives, and know about difficulties they might have with recreational or day to day activities. There are a lot of observations that I might make that can’t be backed up scientifically yet, but do make sense in a practical way. Everyone with dementia is different, and since I work with seniors for the most part, some observations won’t transfer onto Komaeda. However, I’ll do my best to back up whatever I can with sources.

This post is just for fun and to give people ideas. It means a lot to me to see a fascinating and endearing character like Komaeda portrayed with dementia, since it is a sad and terminal disease, and I usually see it end badly in my job, so I hope to give people ideas on how to portray it, or just to notice things in a different way they might not have before!

My main sources for this post and the following ones include “Dementia Diaries,” which is a really cool project where people with dementia talk about their experiences, National Institute on Aging, Alzheimer’s Association, Alzheimer’s Society, and my own work experience. I plan on doing more posts about specific symptoms that we see in Komaeda later, but I would be happy to hear from other people who have dementia knowledge, or to answer any questions that I can.

For the most part, I'm only going to be talking about SDR2 and a little bit of DR:AE. I haven't finished watching the anime yet and have not read any of the manga. If anyone has ideas from any of those sources, I would love to hear about them!

Overview of FTD: Which Variant does Komaeda Have?

There are two major forms of frontotemporal dementia. The first, which Komaeda likely has, is the behavioural variant (BvFTD), which is also the most likely for young people to develop. This variant of FTD mainly affects behaviour, empathy, judgement, and planning.

Komaeda is less likely to have the other variant of FTD, primary progressive aphasia. This form of FTD mainly affects language skills, including speech and comprehension.

Komaeda doesn’t seem to have very much trouble with understanding the concrete content of what people say to him, but he does occasionally seem to have trouble fully comprehending hidden meanings behind statements (for example, taking statements literally rather than as sarcastic). To me though, this is less connected to him not being able to understand the words or content of statements, and more not picking up on the emotions hidden in the statements (which I’ll address more in the behavior post). He does seem to have some trouble with word-finding in the Japanese version of the game, but again, it doesn't inhibit his ability to express himself given enough time to speak.

Another thing to note about FTD is that, in its early stages, it mainly affects behaviour and language processing, as stated above, rather than memory. In later stages, memory does start to be affected as well, but it’s different from Alzheimers (probably the most well-known form of dementia) in that memory loss isn’t the main symptom.

FTD’s prognosis is about 6-8 years. Komaeda states in his fifth free time event that his life expectancy is between half a year and one year. However, he is also referring to his lymphoma diagnosis, meaning he expected to die from a combination of both illnesses within that time frame. In SDR2, Komaeda is probably in the early to middle stages of FTD, since he was diagnosed right before entering Hope’s Peak, and was a Remnant of Despair for some time without treatment, so while we can see evidence of memory issues (which I will address in another post), it’s something he’s able to cope with and isn’t a debilitating symptom yet.

One more observation: while dementia as a whole is usually seen in elderly people, Komaeda’s specific frontotemporal dementia diagnosis has an earlier age of onset, usually between ages 40-65, and is rarely seen in elderly people. Even though being diagnosed in high school seems unlikely, it is not impossible. According to Alzheimer Society Canada, early-onset or young-onset dementia (between ages 18 and 65) accounts for 2-8% of all dementia cases.

Thank you for reading! I plan on making five posts total. The other post topics will be Outward Behaviour, Judgement/Thought Processes, Other Symptoms, and Writing Ideas.

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

without you (pt. 2)

pairing: lee felix x female reader

summary: you have been best friends with the 00 liners+chan for a while now. now everyone is in college and when you begin to devolop feelings, its gettimg hard to choose...

tags/warnings: college skz, liking multiple people at a time, fluff, angst, reader struggles with anxiety and depression, cussing, partially proofread

a/n: hola!! so ive been really busy... sorry for not making pt. 2 quicker! hope yall enjoy!

The week had passed in a blur, the chaos of adjusting to university life settling in just as quickly as it had hit. Classes, assignments, new faces—all of it was both exciting and overwhelming, but there was one constant you hadn’t expected: Felix.

At first, it had been the same—Felix, the warm, friendly boy with the easy smile, always so happy and full of energy. He had a way of making everything feel lighter, of reminding you not to take life too seriously. But now, seeing him day after day in the dorm, being in the same space as you, his presence felt different.

It wasn’t just his smile, though that was still as infectious as ever. It wasn’t just his laugh, that boyish sound that could fill up a room. It was the little things.

The way he always made sure you were included in everything. The way his gaze lingered just a second longer than it should when he looked at you. The way he seemed to always know when something was wrong. Felix’s kindness was something you had always appreciated, but now, in this quiet dorm room, it felt heavier. Like it meant more than it ever had.

You hadn’t intended to let your feelings for him grow like this, but now it seemed like everything you did was tied to him in some way. And it was confusing. Because with him, things had always been simple. Now, there was this unspoken tension between you, something you couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried.

It was late on a Thursday evening when you found yourself alone in the dorm’s common area. The others had gone out for dinner with Jisung, but you had stayed behind to catch up on some homework. You sat hunched over your desk, a notebook in front of you, but the words on the page blurred. You couldn’t focus.

I can’t keep doing this.

It wasn’t just the schoolwork. Your mind was racing with everything—the anxiety that had been building ever since you arrived at university. It was the pressure of keeping up with everything, of making friends, of adjusting to a life that felt so different from home. But most of all, it was the overwhelming feeling of not being able to stop thinking about Felix.

You swallowed hard, trying to push the thoughts aside, but it was like trying to hold back a wave. Every glance Felix gave you, every laugh you shared, just made it harder to breathe. And every time you saw him with Chan, or laughing with Hyunjin, you felt like you were sinking deeper into a pit you couldn’t crawl out of.

You clenched your fists on the desk, trying to steady your breathing, but it wasn’t working.

Focus. You just need to focus.

But the harder you tried to concentrate, the more your thoughts spiraled, and soon, your breathing became shallow. You could feel it. That old, familiar pressure in your chest.

It wasn’t just anxiety anymore. It was a panic attack. You could feel the room closing in, your hands trembling, the world blurring around you.

No. Not now.

But it didn’t matter. Your vision blurred, and you felt yourself sink into the chair, the panic too overwhelming to fight off. You shut your eyes, wishing it would stop. Wishing the feeling of dread and fear would just go away.

Felix had been in the hall with Seungmin, talking about something silly when he heard it—a small, almost imperceptible sound coming from your room. He paused, furrowing his brow. He hadn’t seen you in a while, and he figured you were probably buried in homework. But something in the quiet made him uneasy.

He excused himself from Seungmin and walked toward your dorm room, knocking softly before entering. But when he stepped inside, his heart sank.

There you were, slumped against the desk, your face pale, your breathing fast and shallow, hands clutching your hair.

“Y/N?” Felix called out softly, his voice tinged with concern. But you didn’t respond. You didn’t even seem to hear him.

Felix’s pulse quickened. He moved toward you quickly, crouching down beside your chair. His hands hovered around you, trying to remember what to do. He had only seen you like this once before—so lost in your own panic that you couldn’t even respond.

“Hey, hey…” Felix gently took your hands in his, squeezing them lightly. His touch was warm, grounding, but you didn’t respond. You just continued to breathe rapidly, your chest heaving in that awful, familiar rhythm.

He bit his lip, trying to think. He remembered what you’d told him once, years ago, about your anxiety, how you sometimes had panic attacks that took over. Felix remembered what to do. He had never been great at handling these situations, never knew the right words. But he knew you needed him right now.

“Y/N, look at me,” he said softly, his voice gentle but insistent.

Slowly, your eyes opened, and for the first time since he’d walked in, you seemed to notice him. You blinked at him, as if registering that he was there, and he saw the moment of recognition in your gaze. It was enough to make his heart ache.

Felix squeezed your hands tighter, pulling you out of the fog, trying to focus your attention. He needed to help you focus on something—anything—so your mind could slow down.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in slow, deliberate motions. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

You tried to nod, but it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t seem to catch your breath.

Felix didn’t hesitate. He moved even closer, gently placing one hand on your back, the other still holding your hands. He leaned in, his voice low, soothing. “Breathe in with me, okay? Just like this. One… two… three…” He breathed in deeply, his chest rising, and you watched him, trying to mimic his movements. Slowly, your breathing began to match his. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

You could feel his warmth beside you, the steadiness of his presence pulling you back from the brink. Felix didn’t say much, but his calmness had a way of making everything feel just a little more bearable. You clung to his hand as you continued to breathe together, the panic beginning to subside as his touch and his voice anchored you.

It took a while, but eventually, the tightness in your chest began to ease. You could breathe again, slower, calmer. You still felt the weight of it all, but it wasn’t as suffocating anymore.

Felix didn’t pull away. He stayed with you, his hand never leaving yours. His voice was soft as he asked, “How are you feeling now?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice came out shaky. “Better… thanks.”

Felix smiled, his expression full of tenderness, but there was something else in his eyes too. Something deeper. You weren’t sure if it was relief or something else, but you could see it. Felix had always been kind, but right now, his kindness felt like something more.

“Don’t thank me,” he said, his voice soft, but his gaze unwavering. “I’m always here for you, Y/N. Always.”

For a moment, you were speechless. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had been there for you like this. Felix’s presence, his care, felt different.

It felt like more.

But the more you thought about it, the more you realized: maybe it was always meant to be this way. Maybe Felix had always been more than just a friend to you.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time you stopped pretending you didn’t feel it too.

[oceanlipgloss]

NICE

MEPHISTOPHELES.

+ no warnings.

+ my mc is the heroine, so the pronouns are feminine.

Violet bruises, grass stains. Her pale knees, smudged with a marble-like pattern of purple and green. Expected with frequent, clumsy falls.

Nothing that grotesque. Peeking out from under dark fabric. To some, the vision may have seemed a piece of art. He sat together with her in a pillow fort. Pressed close. A stubby candle spat light over a sandwich quite small, perfectly enough for one.

The soft space was cramped. Long legs stuck out of the ‘door’ to the mellow chamber. He liked the weight of her smooth legs over his.

It was nice.

Makeshift seats, bruised knees, commoner meals. Was she gifting him the taste of pauperism and its childish experiences?

Perhaps it was inappropriate, but...his fingers traced spirals over the curious colour palette on her skin. The bone was hard as it was crafted to be, though not cold. She was warm. Stars—magnetic and sweet—seemed to flow from his silk-coated fingertips.

His hand was in hers. A pair of white gloves rolled off like buttercream. They were put aside. Wasn’t it better to feel her bare touch against his? A slow interlace.

Taking his big hand, delicate fingers filling the gaps, a man pleasantly trapped. There were flames under his skin. She had him feeling somewhat dizzy.

It was nice.

Birthdays are meaningless days. They don’t have to be made out into celebrations or parades. There is nothing particularly precious about a date on which one was born. What matters most is the person, their everyday presence at the current moment in the world.

There are times when less is more. The tiniest things may craft happiness of the purest, most unfiltered sort. There doesn’t have to be cake or confetti; they’re not necessary.

There are times when it’s better to withdraw and forget the existence of invitations. Stay alone, or stay with someone.

Happiness was glowing in his heart then—a moon dulcet in its humming and silver in its colour—not a noisy, gaudy neon.

Ketchup on his nose, licked away with her cheeky tongue. An exasperated sigh. So playful.

Makeshift seats, bruised knees, commoner meals. Pillow, candle, sandwich.

He was thinking about it all when warmth glossed his lips. It was wet and unfamiliarly familiar. A sneak peck. Not the first, not the last. She loved surprising him like that, and he loved—though almost begrudgingly so at first—when she did.

These days he unthinkingly gave in.

He had pocketed the flavour of her kiss. And he was never forgetting it now. Will she keep doing this all again for him?

It was nice.

Riches are important and money is for survival, but so are the proper emotions. Perhaps his was the heart that had been throbbing in a life bleaker than a pauper’s.

+notes: first birthday fic in years and it's for Mephi. Intimacy bar when

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[not-redrobin]

Tim understood, to the most of his ability. Feelings are messy, relationships are even more so.

Bruce didn’t have to explain anything to him and he didn’t want to push anything. He wants his father to be happy.

Unfortunately, Bruce shared a quality with his sons, a certain self deprecating aspect of his thought process. He felt as though he didn’t deserve happiness— from what Tim could put together anyway.

He knew the feeling. He’d felt like that for so long, maybe since he was old enough to form a coherent thought. Sometimes those emotions would worm their way back into his brain, he knew that most of his family could relate; he couldn’t stand it.

“I’m not trying to force you to figure things out—“ Tim shrugged, dropping his shoulders and leaning back. “I just want you to be happy. And from my point of view, talking things out with Clark and telling him how you feel seems like it’ll help.”

He offered up a smile, trying to assure his father that taking the advice would probably be better than ignoring whatever was going on.

“I’d never hurt Conner, and you’d never hurt Clark.” He saw the gears turn in his father’s head, practically seeing the thoughts form as quickly as they left. “You know as well as I do that he cares about you, he wants to know how you feel. He wants to know how you could figure things out, together or apart.”

Sometimes he felt like him and Bruce had more in common than either of them thought. He saw an older version of himself in Bruce, awkwardness and all.

“If you don’t want to invite them over im not making you,” a smile snuck on to his face, glancing up at the older man, “but, you really should talk to Clark. Besides, I’m sure Alfred wouldn’t mind having the most polite person in the world over for a few hours.”

Bruce rapped uneasily on Tim's bedroom door, waiting to hear an assent from within. "Tim, sweetheart? May I?"

@officialbruciewayne

Tim was sitting with the door halfway open, he took one of his earbuds out to give most of his attention toward Bruce.

“Yeah of course, come in.”

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

Why do you think the tides have slightly turned from "Elia deserves better than Rhaegar" to shipping her and Rhaegar together? Like what is the psychology behind these people because I've seen some of them like/reblog anti Rhaegar posts while also shipping Rhaegar x Elia at the same time.

hey anon! my thoughts are a bit messy, but i’ve done my best to explain them coherently :)

so, rhaegar was the best man anyone could have when elia was alive, and most people want the best for their favs. he was considered the most handsome, didn’t have a bad personality, and he was crown prince—meaning elia was almost queen, which is often seen as the greatest role a woman can have. the narrative also treats rhaegar as a beautiful, tragic, haunting figure, and elia actually had this very aesthetically pleasing man all to herself at one point! she was married to him, had children with him, and her life was so close to perfect! but rhaegar just had to go and ruin it. 😠

for many elia stans, if rhaegar hadn’t fallen in love with another woman (they want him to have been a completely different character), then everything would’ve been perfect, and elia would’ve had the best, most desirable life. however, that’s not what happened—elia met a very tragic end, and as a result, these stans feel double the bitterness. because of this bitterness, they blame rhaegar for everything (even though it’s not logical to do so), but he’s just too ‘perfect’ to let go of. so, for years these stans have made rhaegar revolve around elia, filling his tag with posts about her out of bitterness. so, i do believe that this obsession with rhaegar x elia has always been there, but i think it’s become a more favorable stance on the elia stan side of the fandom because of a mix of reasons.

plus, rhaegar is one of the few canon relationships we know elia had, since she’s not much of a character. because of this, and the fact that most people don’t like to stray too far from canon, most elia stans are forced to focus on rhaegar, which has created an echo chamber. basically, if a sentiment about elia and rhaegar’s relationship becomes popular, then the whole elia stan side of the fandom will likely regurgitate the sentiment. (also, this desire to stick close to canon is likely why the elia x arthur ship was so popular. while it’s a total crack ship, it had good aesthetics, and since elia and arthur at least knew each other, it allowed the stans to create their perfect fanfiction whilst sticking it to rhaegar. but remember, elia was actually married to rhaegar and had children with him, so while arthur is cool, rhaegar was always ‘top dog,’ meaning arthur would never be able to match up to rhaegar to most elia stans. also, the arthur x elia crack ship is likely her second most popular ship, which just shows how little elia stans have to work with, so they’re always forced to eventually return back to rhaegar for a lot of things.)

however, even if the elia x rhaegar ship gains more popularity, these stans will never stop hating rhaegar because he wasn’t ‘perfect’—and he wasn’t perfect because he didn’t love elia. plus, rhaegar loving another woman and supposedly kidnapping her is what began the war that led to elia’s tragic death. that’s bitterness times 1000. and while i don’t actually blame rhaegar for the war, i do think that this is how an elia stan sees it. i also don’t view rhaegar’s complex relationship with elia as a bad thing—it’s actually a very realistic take on an arranged marriage between two decent people. but most elia stans will never be able to get over the fact that they almost had everything, which is why many have it out for lyanna, as they consider her a thief who ruined their ‘perfection.’

tbh, that might be why so many elia stans are so obsessed with the idea that rhaegar only got with lyanna because of the prophecy—they don’t want to believe that rhaegar actually loved a different woman and not their perfect self insert elia. that’s a bit mean of me… but i don’t know what else one would call the ‘elia’ elia stans have created.

now that i’ve laid all those thoughts out, i’ll try to explain why the tides seem to be turning… i think it may have something to do with the ‘targaryens are all evil and bad’ sentiment losing popularity. i think this shift has occurred due to a mix of factors, such as years of fandom fights and fandom cycles leading to the targs being more liked now than before. it helps that canon doesn’t actually condemn the targs/favors them quite a bit, and the influx of new targ fans from HOTD has also contributed. this combination of reasons seems to have shifted the way the mainstream fandom discusses all the targaryen characters, including rhaegar. so, with this shift, it’s only natural that some elia stans/elia x rhaegar shippers—who’ve always been there—are using this opportunity to push their agenda. while these stans still hate rhaegar and see him as the bad guy, they just can’t let go of him. and as the mainstream fandom moves away from the anti targaryen sentiment, these smaller corners of the fandom, which tend to be echo chambers, are also affected, which has therefore led to a rise in rhaegar x elia shippers and the ‘shifting tide’ that you’ve also noticed.

[kuro-ousama]

Kinda funny how the fact that I don't have a lot of favorites boiled down to the fact that I was crushed by Atem's story and vowed to not get attached to other characters.

In other words, this little fictional character broke my heart so hard that I can't move on. That's how much he made an impact to my fandom life even 2 decades later.

[moeblob]

OC again gomen ... (her name is Yuma)

[andynked]

His words stung, not quite in a negative way but in an accurate way. Such scarily accurate advice considering nothing was told, but it was common sense after all. It hurt even more to hear it from an unbiased party.

Silence fell between them, only cars driving, horns honking, and the sound of their steps lingered between the two. He was contemplating if it was too soon- but the alternative would be to wait until dinner. Fuck it.

"Yeah, I love my job..." he answered, an impish smile crossing his lips as he let out a defeated sigh. "I love it, I love meeting the people, I love creating things for people and seeing them happy. I'm incredibly blessed..."

But... "It's funny you say that, because it's also kinda why I'm in this place to begin with." He laughed, loosely and highly unconvincing. His eyes were drawn to the side walk as he finally brought himself to speak up. Surely, if this was too much information, Sailor would stop him...right?

"About Six months ago." six months, one week and three days. But who's counting? "I was engaged to probably the most perfect woman to walk this earth." And that was putting it lightly in Andy's eyes.

"She had gorgeous red hair, the most beautiful hazel eyes. She had a bangin' body and the kindest soul. I mean it, she was the sweetest girl I ever met. She was supportive, she had her own business. She's driven ...I admired the hell out of that woman." Clearly, he had been harboring these words for what felt like an eternity. "She didn't need anybody- not a man, no one. She kicked ass. "

Just thinking of that woman was enough to cause him to smile. His eyes were drawn up to the sky and he let out a sigh of almost relief. Relief to get this out of his system. "And we got engaged, and the short version of it- I was too caught up in my own work to pay attention. Ya know, she loved that I had my own thing goin' but I couldn't put it on pause long enough to focus on her. " It was embarrassing to admit, but the truth. If he was to be honest with himself, he was the problem. "She gave me an ultimatum and I tried to hold my end of the bargain... The problem with lovin' a strong woman is she will leave if you don't hold up your end."

He turned his focus back towards his guest and smiled, mocking his own pain. "So now, I'm being dragged out and taught to live a little. And I guess they're hopin' it'll knock some sense into me."

“   I   don't   mind   it   much.   I've   always   been   the   responsible   one,   y'know   ?   Got   a   reputation   to   protect.   The   other   guys   ?   Eh,   not   so   much.   I'm   only   a   little   jealous,   really.   Bein'   that   carefree,   just   doin'   whatever   ?   It's   gotta   be   nice,   ”   the   words   flow   freely.   He's   not   as   guarded   as   he   once   was;   evident   in   his   body   language,   the   relaxation   that   falls   upon   typically   tensed   shoulders.   It's   comforting   to   be   around   someone   who   seems   to   be   just   as   level   headed.   There's   no   need   for   any   mask,   to   play   any   role   for   the   sake   of   blending   in.   He   hates   to   admit   it,   but   being   around   Andy   didn't   demand   any   additional   energy.   Natural.   Effortless.   It   felt   strange   to   even   think   it.

Laughter   emits   from   his   frame,   his   head   shaking.   One   too   many   times   did   he   try   to   pull   off   a   full   working   day   after   a   night   out,   only   to   spend   the   duration   of   the   day   regretting   every   choice   he   made   the   night   prior.   “   Yeah,   I'm   basically   useless   the   day   after   drinking.   That's   why   I   don't   do   it.   That's   cool,   though.   I   think   I   remember   you   mentionin'   the   shop.   You   like   what   you   do   ?   ”   He   asks,   his   gaze   fluttering   towards   Andy. 

Sailor   assumes   he   does,   solely   because   of   the   close   bond   he   has   with   the   people   he   works   with.   Reminds   him   of   all   the   marines   he   still   considers   himself   close   to,   even   after   all   this   time.   It's   only   gotten   harder   now,   his   focus   shifted   on   his   hockey   career   and   appeasing   the   masses.   He   yearns   for   the   brotherhood   he   once   shared,   and   has   only   been   left   feeling   emptier   than   he   began   after   his   time   overseas.   “   Hey,   sometimes   it   is   good   to   get   out.   Get   out   your   head   for   a   bit,   but   there's   gotta   have   been   a   good   chunk   of   time   between   the   initial   heartbreak   and   then   goin'   out.   Otherwise,   it's   more   of   a   detriment   than   anythin'   else.   It   also   ain't   healthy   to   immerse   yourself   in   work   like   that,   either.   Distraction   never   did   anybody   any   real   good,   I'll   tell   you   that.”

Speaks   from   experience;   his   mind   distant   for   a   moment.   His   shoulders   shrug,   pulling   a   hand   from   out   of   his   pocket   to   card   through   his   hair.   “   Whatever   it   is.   It'll   pass.   What   feels   like   the   end   of   the   world   one   day,   is   a   door   opening   the   next.   Easy   to   say   as   someone   who   ain't   goin'   through   it,   but   I've   done   my   time.   I   think   everyone   has.   I'm   here   for   you,   though.   Whether   it's   Waffle   House   runs   or    .       .    .    whatever   else.   ”

[dukeofthomas]

It's kinda funny how people reject the comics bc Batman is abusive and it's mostly ignored/not addressed properly... and then instead go read fic where Batman is abusive but it's ignored/not addressed properly

[coulsonlives]

Omg, Dante Basco ships Zutara! My life is complete.

[mercutiodidntdieforthis]

The wave of Thomas Sanders hate that was going for ages just because of him acting mildly annoying to some people while making jokes and being nice to people was INSANE. He's literally always been a cool guy

[discordiansamba]

being himself again is... weird.

he's not surprised. you don't spend two years as a different person and not feel a little weird when you're yourself again. becoming zuko again is such a strange feeling- he's relieved to finally be back, but part of him is also sad that he can't be lee anymore. he'd... been happy as lee. he should feel humiliated to have spent so long under the belief that he was a mere commoner, a simple tea server, but...

...it wasn't a bad life, actually.

well. the parts where azula had forced him to serve her sucked. he bristled just thinking about it. he'd been so stupid. he'd thought his sister was genuinely praising him- and the worst part is? maybe she even was. she'd looked at him, the person who should have been her brother, and treated him as her servant.

if azula had her way, he would have served her for the rest of his life.

(and he would have been happy about it.)

his memories are weirdly fresh and vivid. he can recall things that happened years ago like they happened yesterday. it also makes it all the more obvious where there are gaps in his memory. katara tries so hard to fix them, but there's nothing left to drag out of the depths of his subconscious. they're just gone. his life as zuko had started to erode away- though he gets most of it back.

(he still remembers the agni kai. he wishes he didn't.)

there's gaps in his knowledge too. he has to ask someone for a map of the fire nation, because he can't even remember where the caldera is. at least that he can get back. katara is gradually helping him return his personality to normal too, but it's hard to entirely feel like himself when the ghost of lee still haunts him. the knowledge and skills lee gained for himself are still there. he knows the middle ring of ba sing se as well as he knows the caldera.

and his firebending? it was like how it was after the agni kai again. except for the part where he seemed to be really good at manipulating heat all of a sudden. it was the dead of winter when he came back to himself, but he didn't feel the cold at all.

...he also needs to figure out what to do about jin.

he'd sent her a letter, when he was still mostly lee. he'd told her that he'd chosen to go back to living as zuko. he'd promised that he wouldn't leave ba sing se without at least talking to her. zuko intends to keep it. he's just not sure how he feels yet. he's... different now, and not just because has fragments of someone else's personality. he'd spent the past two years seeing the world through someone else's eyes.

agni. he'd been so stupid.

it seemed so obvious now that chasing the avatar was meant to be a wild goose chase. his father never wanted him to succeed. parents who loved their children didn't challenge them to agni kais- didn't burn their faces for refusing to fight. didn't banish them on a fruitless quest. and yet he'd naively clung to the hope that if he could just prove himself to his father, he'd welcome him back.

and the war?

the war was terrible. he'd been exposed to a bit of it as a fugitive, but it had been another thing to live through the end of it as earth kingdom. the fire nation soldiers stationed in the middle ring had gotten a kick out of lee- a kid with gold eyes and an ugly burn scar. he guesses in hindsight he should be grateful that none of them had recognized him as their prince.

jokes on them. he remembered their names and faces.

(lee had put up with it. zuko was a lot more spiteful.)

...also, he guessed he was kind of friends with the avatar and his group now. that was probably the weirdest part of all of this. the last thing he remembered as zuko was betraying them at ba sing se, and now they were just... getting along? he remembered liking them a lot as lee, but apparently that feeling had just... carried over.

...yeah. that was going to take awhile to get used to.

everything happens in a blur.

lee thinks he's given his father the slip, but when he rounds the corner, the man is standing there, waiting for him. he opens his mouth to speak, but lee clamps his hands over his ears, refusing to listen. he has to have some kind of trigger phrase. maybe if he can't hear it-

but his father never gets the chance to speak.

lee watches, slightly dazed as a short battle unfolds on the streets of ba sing se. his father is a powerful earthbender, but he's no match for the likes of toph beifong and avatar aang. his father is defeated and restrained- and gagged, for good measure. lee slowly pulls his hands away from his ears, his heart pounding a mile a minute.

katara is next to him. she has a hand on his shoulder. she tells him it's going to be okay.

toph and avatar aang disappear somewhere with his father. katara and sokka take lee with them to the earth palace, and lead him into a room there. he's still kind of in a daze. katara sits him down on the bed, and envelops her hands with water. he leans into her touch, feeling the fog fall away from his mind.

he's exhausted. he falls asleep.

when he wakes up the next morning, he stares at the ceiling for a long moment. he's... still lee, but his head is clear now. katara just cleared away whatever his father did to him yesterday. he exhales, sitting up. his pack is on a table nearby. someone has left behind a kettle of water for tea, and some food.

he makes himself tea.

he eats the food left for him. he's still shaken by the events of yesterday, but... he thinks he's going to be okay now. his father's been taken into custody. he can't hurt him anymore. he had been horrifyingly close to doing something he didn't actually want to do, but at the same time...

...it's made him realize what he actually wants.

he finishes his cup of tea. he cleans himself up. he braids his hair. he gets dressed in fire nation red. there's a mirror in the room he's been given. lee stares at his reflection. he still thinks it doesn't suit him, but he's made up his mind. he doesn't know if everything his father told him was a lie. maybe some part of prince zuko really did want to become him. he might not be happy to get his mind back.

he'd been happy as lee.

he couldn't stay this way.

there's a pair of scissors in the bathroom. lee fetches it, then stands in front of the mirror. the first thing he does is cut his bangs short, so they fall just above his missing eyebrow. the second thing he does is grab his braid and cut it off. his hair is a scrappy, uneven mess when he's done, but his head feels lighter. his reflection in the mirror looks less like himself now-

-but it's a good thing this time.

he doesn't know prince zuko. he used to, but he's a stranger now. he loved being lee, in the end.

maybe he'd find things to love about prince zuko too.