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lostfracturess · 18 days ago

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LAST DECEMBER MORNING — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

summary — on a frost-bitten december morning, you watch satoru gojo prepare for his fated battle with sukuna with infuriating calm, like he isn't planning to sacrifice himself for the greater good. you've spent years being his secret, clearing battlefields for him and stealing kisses between missions, but now you're faced with the most brutal truth. that sometimes the cruelest curse isn't the one that kills you — it's loving someone who belongs to the world before they belong to you.

word count — 5.4 k

warnings — heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood and violence, implied death, unhealthy relationship, sad ending

author's note — this has been rotting in my drafts since the final jjk chapter dropped, and i finally dragged it out into the light bc i'm procrastinating uni. fair warning, this is pure angst with zero comfort, just two people breaking each other's hearts because sometimes love isn't enough. anywayys, happy reading <3

masterlist

Winter had never felt so much like an ending.

You watched frost creep across the windows of your shared apartment, each crystalline pattern forming like cracks in glass, spreading slowly but inevitably.

Outside, the world lay hushed under winter's blanket, everything soft and serene. Birds traced lazy patterns against a sky so blue it hurt to look at, and fresh snow made everything clean and new.

It was the kind of morning that belonged in fairy tales, the kind poets write about when they want to capture peace in words. Strange, how you'd never imagined death would choose such a beautiful day.

You watched Satoru move through his routine, each gesture precise and unhurried. White hair caught the pale sunlight as he smoothed it back, his reflection in the mirror handsome as ever before he adjusted his clothes, and put on his blindfold.

You'd watched him prepare for countless missions before, but this felt different. This felt final.

The normality of it all was almost cruel — how he could stand there, getting ready like this was just another day, just another fight. Like the sun wasn't rising on what could be your last morning together.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, each second falling like a stone into still water. Time felt strange, both rushing too fast and moving too slow. You wanted to grab the clock's hands, force them to stop, to give you just a few more moments in this morning that felt like borrowed time.

"You're staring," he said without turning around, a slight smile playing at his lips.

"Can you blame me?" You were curled up in the window seat, tea growing cold in your hands. "It's not every day your— whatever we are goes to fight the King of Curses."

He turned then, and even through the blindfold, you could feel the weight of his gaze. "Whatever we are?" There was amusement in his tone. "After all this time, you still don't know what we are?"

"Well, we're not exactly big on labels," you pointed out, trying to keep your voice light despite the heaviness in your chest. "Secret relationship and all that."

"Ah, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it?" He crossed the room to where you sat, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "The sneaking around, the secret meetings—"

"Satoru." You caught his hand. "How are you so calm about this?"

He tilted his head, considering. "Would you prefer if I was panicking?"

"I'd prefer if you showed any emotion at all about the fact that you're about to fight Sukuna." You stood up, setting your tea aside. "You've been acting like this is just another day, just another fight, but it's not. You know it's not."

"I think I've shown plenty of emotion," he said, pulling you closer with a playful smile. "Just last night, if I recall—"

"Don't." You pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him at arm's length. "Don't deflect. Not today."

The smile faded from his face, replaced by something more serious. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me why you're so calm. I want you to tell me why you're not worried." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on. "I want you to tell me why it feels like you're saying goodbye."

He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing patterns on your wrist where he still held it. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "The world needs to move forward. It needs to find someone stronger."

"What are you talking about?" You pulled back slightly. "You're the strongest there is."

"Am I?" His smile was gentle, almost sad. "Or is that just what everyone needs to believe?"

"Satoru—"

"The world has relied on me for too long," he continued. "They've made me their symbol, their savior, their stupid hero. But what happens when I'm gone? Who protects them then?"

"You're not going anywhere," you said. "You're going to win. You always win."

He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "Sometimes winning isn't about surviving. Sometimes it's about making sure what comes after is better than what came before."

"That's not funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm trying to tell you that whatever happens today, the world will keep turning. It will find new leaders, new protectors. Maybe even better ones."

"I don't want new protectors," you whispered. "I want you."

"Ah, but you've always had me," he said softly. "Ever since that first mission together, when you told me my head was too big to fit through doorways. Do you remember?"

You huffed. "You were showing off, making everything more complicated than it needed to be."

"I was trying to impress you."

"You're always trying to impress me."

"But it's working, right?"

You pressed closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent. "You know it is, you idiot."

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. For a moment, you both stood there in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of how this all began, of the first time you'd been close enough to hear his heart race.

For loving Satoru Gojo had always been the most beautiful and dangerous thing in your world.

It started in blood, as most things in your world did. A mission gone wrong, cursed spirits thick in the air, the metallic taste of death sharp on your tongue. You’d seen him fight before—who hadn’t?

But that night was different. That night, you saw him bleed.

A special-grade curse caught you both off guard. One moment, he fought three curses at once like some untouchable god, and the next, he was crashing through three buildings, blood gushing from his mouth.

Something in your chest cracked at the sight — not from the impact of being thrown back yourself, but from seeing him, the strongest sorcerer alive, look so terrifyingly human.

You remembered how his blindfold had been torn, those devastating blue eyes meeting yours across the wreckage. Blood trickled down his chin, his usually perfect hair matted with debris, and yet he smiled. That damn smile that made your heart stutter even as cursed spirits attacked you from all sides.

“Trying to steal my spotlight?” he’d joked, wiping blood from his lips as he stood. “I’m the only one allowed to look cool here.”

You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to scream at him for making jokes when he could have died. You did none of those things. Instead, you cleared the area, giving him the perfect opening he needed to obliterate the special grade.

Later, after the dust had settled and the reports had been filed, he cornered you in the darkened hallway of Jujutsu High.

“You’re angry,” he said, not a question but a statement.

“I’m not angry.” You were furious. “I’m just wondering how someone who’s supposed to be the strongest can be so fucking reckless.”

He stepped closer, backing you against the wall. “Worried about me?”

“You wish.” But your voice shook, betraying you. Because you had been worried. Terrified, actually. The image of him lying in that wreckage, blood staining his white hair red, had burned itself into your mind.

“Liar,” he whispered, and then his lips were on yours.

Everything they said about Satoru Gojo was true — he was overwhelming, all-consuming, impossible to resist. Kissing him felt like being struck by lightning, like being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. You broke apart, both breathing hard, and reality came crashing back.

“Fuck,” you summarized eloquently.

He laughed, the sound low and rich. “That could be arranged.”

“Satoru.” You pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you. Because I’m me. Because there are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea.”

“I’m only hearing excuses.” He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Not actual reasons.”

And that was how it started — with blood and curses and kisses in dark hallways. With terrible ideas that felt too good to resist.

Keeping it secret was both easier and harder than you expected. Easier because everyone already knew how Satoru was — flirtatious, tactile, always pushing boundaries. No one questioned when he draped himself over your desk during meetings or appeared uninvited in your office and stayed for hours.

Harder because every moment felt like a lie of omission. Harder because you had to watch him walk into danger again and again, had to maintain professional distance when all you wanted was to grab him and never let go.

You stole moments where you could find them. Quick kisses in empty classrooms, heated encounters between missions, quiet nights in your apartment when the world thought he was somewhere else entirely.

It ate at you sometimes. Not because you wanted to announce it to the world, but because each moment felt borrowed, stolen from a future you might never have.

Every time he left for a mission, every time he faced another curse, you wondered if this would be it. If this would be the time your last memory of him would be a secret smile across a meeting room, a cryptic message that no one else understood. But then he’d come back, always with that insufferable smile, usually with some ridiculous story about how amazing he’d been.

He’d find ways to touch you in public that looked casual — a hand at the small of your back during briefings, fingers brushing as he passed you documents, his body angled toward yours in crowded rooms like a sunflower seeking light.

And the worst part? The absolute worst part was how good he was at pretending. How easily he maintained his public persona — the untouchable, unbeatable Satoru Gojo, who flirted with everyone and meant it with no one.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you in meetings with the same expression he gave everyone else, and for a moment, you’d wonder if you’d imagined everything between you.

But then night would fall, and he’d show up at your door with takeout and that soft smile he saved just for you. He’d kiss you like he was trying to apologize for every moment he had to pretend you were nothing special, like he was trying to prove that this, the two of you, was the only real thing in his world.

You never talked about the future. How could you? In your line of work, tomorrow was never guaranteed. Each mission could be your last, each kiss could be your goodbye. The closest you ever came to acknowledging it was in the desperate way he’d hold you after a close call, in the way you’d trace his features in the dark like you were trying to memorize them by touch.

Some nights, when sleep eluded you both, he’d tell you about the weight of being the strongest, about the exhaustion of being everyone’s last hope.

He’d whisper his fears into your skin — not of death or defeat, but of failing those who believed in him. Those were the moments when the great Satoru Gojo disappeared, leaving just Satoru, just a man who carried the world on his shoulders and made it look easy.

You lived for those moments. The quiet ones, the real ones, the ones where he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive but just yours. Just as you were his.

You carved out your own little infinity in the spaces between battles and duties. A secret world where his laugh wasn’t for show, where your touch wasn’t professional, where you could just be the two of you without the weight of expectations and reputations.

But infinity, as it turned out, had limits. Even his.

Looking at him now, preparing to face Sukuna with that same causality he brought to everything, you wondered if this was how your story was always meant to end. If all those stolen moments were just preparing you for this — one last morning, one last smile, one last chance to pretend tomorrow might come.

The world needed someone stronger, he said. But you needed him. And maybe that was the cruelest curse of all — loving someone the world needed more than you did.

"Promise me something," you said then.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you won't just give up. Promise me you'll fight to come back."

He pulled back slightly, reaching up to remove his blindfold. His striking blue eyes met yours, intense and clear.

"I promise," he said, "that everything I do today will be for a better tomorrow."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's the only promise I can make."

"Stop." Your voice turned sharp, anger finally breaking through. "Stop talking about tomorrow. Stop talking about the future and the next generation and whatever noble sacrifice you think you need to make. I don't care about any of that."

"Don't you?"

"No, I don't." You grabbed his jacket, fingers twisting in the fabric. "I don't care if the world needs someone stronger. I don't care if the next generation needs to step up. I care about you, you impossible man. I want you here, alive, with me. Is that so wrong? Am I not allowed to be selfish when it comes to you?"

"Huh." He caught your hands in his, but didn't pull them away from his jacket. "And here I thought you understood me better than anyone."

"Don't." You tried to pull away, but he held firm. "Don't you dare try to make this about understanding. I understand perfectly. But you're wrong. You don't have to do this."

His smile faltered slightly. "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple!" Your voice cracked. "You're choosing to make it complicated. You're choosing to walk away, to... to what? Make some grand statement about the future? Prove that the world can survive without the great Satoru Gojo?"

"Someone has to."

"But why does it have to be you?" The words burst out of you, raw and desperate. "Why do you have to be the one to show them? Why can't you just fight to win, to live, to come back to—" You cut yourself off, biting back the words that wanted to follow.

"To you?" he finished softly.

"Yes," you said, dropping your forehead against his chest. "To me. Call me selfish, call me short-sighted, I don't care. I want more mornings like this. More everything. More of you, being insufferably calm and making terrible jokes and acting like the world isn't ending when we both know it might be."

He was quiet for a moment, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than before.

"I can't promise to come back." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But know this, every moment with you has been worth fighting for. Worth living for."

You pulled back enough to look at him, really look at him. "Then fight for more moments. Fight to make more memories. Fight to come back to me, not for some greater purpose or stupid sacrifice, but because you want to."

"And if I told you that wanting isn't enough?"

"Then I'd call you a liar." Your voice turned cold. "Because you're Satoru fucking Gojo. When has anything ever been impossible for you? When have you ever let anyone tell you what you can't do?"

"This is different—"

"How? How is this different? Because it's Sukuna? Because it's the fate of jujutsu society? Or because you've already decided how this story ends?"

His hands tightened on you, and for a moment, just a moment, you saw something flicker behind those blue eyes — doubt, fear, longing, you couldn't tell. But then it was gone, replaced by that same calm certainty that made you want to scream.

"Because I can't protect everyone—can't protect you if I allow myself to believe in a tomorrow," he whispered.

The gentleness in his voice, the soft way he delivered words meant to cut, made you want to tear the world apart. It was so perfectly Satoru — to break your heart like he was doing you a favor, to wound you with a tenderness that felt more cruel than any violence could be.

"I never asked you to protect me," you said finally. "I asked you to stay. There's a difference."

"Is there?" His hand came up to cup your face, shaking ever so slightly, betraying the calm he fought so hard to maintain. "Because every time I look at you, all I can think about is how many people would use you to get to me. How many would hurt you just to prove they could touch something I care about."

"So your solution is to what? Die nobly? Make sure there's nothing left for them to use against you?"

"My solution is to make sure the world doesn't need me anymore." His thumb brushed across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "To make sure you don't need me anymore."

"That's not your choice to make. You don't get to decide what I need. You don't get to martyr yourself for some greater good and pretend it's for my protection."

"Then what would you have me do?" For the first time, there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "Ignore my responsibilities? Pretend I'm not who I am?"

"I would have you fight like you want to come back!" The words ripped from your throat. "Fight like there's someone waiting for you after. Fight like you love me as much as I love you!"

The confession rang out between you, and the moment it left your lips, you realized you'd never said it before. Through all the stolen moments, all the secret touches, all the nights you'd spent memorizing each other's bodies — you'd never actually spoken those words aloud.

You'd both danced around it, implied it in every action, every look, every unfinished sentence, but neither of you had ever dared to make it real with words.

Until now. Until you were angry enough, desperate enough, terrified enough to let it slip from your heart straight past your defenses.

"Love?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Of course I love you, you idiot." Your voice equally quiet. "Why else would I be standing here, begging the strongest sorcerer alive to be selfish just once?”

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, maybe a sob, his fingers tightening on you. "Don't," he whispered, and for the first time that morning, his voice was shaking. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Don't say things that make me want to—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "That make me want impossible things."

"Impossible? Since when does Satoru Gojo believe in impossible?"

"Since I realized being with you means putting you at risk." His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture achingly gentle. "Since I understood that staying alive isn't the same as keeping you safe."

"I hate this." You shook your head. "I hate how calmly you can stand here and talk about sacrifice like it's inevitable. Like there's no other way."

"Would you prefer if I fell apart?" His smile turned sad. "If I raged and cried and promised things I might not be able to keep?"

"Yes," you admitted, your hands coming up to cover his where they still held your face. "Because at least then I'd know you want to stay as much as I want you to."

"Oh, my love." The endearment fell from his lips like a confession. "Wanting to stay has never been the question. The question is whether I can live with myself if I do."

"And what about whether I can live with myself if you don't?" Your voice broke. "What about whether I can forgive myself for not fighting harder to make you stay?"

"This isn't your fight."

"Like hell it isn't." You pulled back. "You think I spent months learning to clear battlefields just so you could take center stage? You think I perfected my technique to complement your infinity because I had nothing better to do?" You dug your nails into your palms, throat tight with fury. "I've been fighting alongside you since before you ever kissed me in that hallway. Before you ever decided I was worth protecting. Don't you dare tell me this isn't my fight when I've spent years making sure you had the space you needed to be great."

He was quiet for a long moment, studying you. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. "And that's exactly why I need to go. The world doesn't need more people making space for me. It needs people who'll fill that space themselves."

You recoiled like he'd slapped you, hurt burning in your chest. "Is that what you think I've been doing? Making myself smaller for you? Made space for you because I was afraid to reach higher?" You stepped closer, deadly calm now. "I made space for you because that's what you do when you love someone."

His lips twitched into a smile. "So you do understand me."

"Don't pretend those are the same thing."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like goodbye. Like all the tomorrows you'd never have, all the moments you'd never share, all the promises neither of you could keep. You kissed him back with everything you had — all your fury and fear and love condensed into this one perfect, terrible moment.

His hands tangled in your hair like he was trying to memorize the feeling, yours gripping his jacket as if you could keep him here through sheer force of will. When you finally broke apart, hearts pounding, foreheads pressed together in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

"I'll hate you," you whispered against his lips. "If you don't come back, I'll hate you for the rest of my life."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, and for once, his smile held an edge of something raw, something that looked almost like pain. "No, you won't."

"I will." Your fingers tightened in his jacket. "I'll hate you for making me fall in love with someone who was always planning to leave. I'll hate you for every morning I wake up alone, for every mission briefing where someone else stands in your place, for every year I have to leave flowers on your grave."

"You'll move on. You'll find someone—"

"Fuck you," you cut him off, the words sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't you dare tell me how I'll feel. Don't you dare stand here and plan out my future without you in it."

"I'm just trying to—"

"To what? Prepare me? Make it easier? There's nothing easy about loving you, Satoru Gojo. There never has been. But I chose it anyway. Every day, knowing this moment would come."

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to say goodbye? Make it messy and painful and real?"

"I want you to stop pretending this is just another mission and show me something that tells me this is killing you like it's killing me."

The silence stretched between you like a chasm. For just a moment, beneath his careful composure, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the name — vulnerable, conflicted, maybe even afraid. But he buried it quickly, like he buried everything that might make him waver from his chosen path.

You'd always known this about him, hadn't you? Known it from that first bloody mission, from every fight where he'd put himself between the world and destruction.

Satoru Gojo was a man built for sacrifice, shaped by duty and power into something that could never truly belong to just one person. You'd fallen in love with him anyway, foolishly hoping that maybe love could be enough to make him choose differently.

But watching him now, seeing the gentle finality in every movement, you understood with crushing clarity that this was always how it would end. No amount of pleading or anger or love could change what he'd already decided.

He'd made his choice long before this morning, probably before he'd ever kissed you in that darkened hallway.

"Keep the tea warm for me," he said finally, stepping back. The words were casual, almost playful — exactly the kind of thing he'd say on any other morning. But that's what made it cruel. Even now, he was trying to soften the blow, pretending this was just another goodbye, just another mission.

You didn't say anything as he walked to the door. Didn't wish him luck or tell him to be safe. The time for those platitudes had passed.

Instead, you watched him pause in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. For a moment, you thought he might turn around, might drop the act and let you see something real. One last true moment before the end.

He didn't fully turn, but his voice carried back to you, soft and achingly sincere. "I love you. More than anything." A pause. "That's why I have to go."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You'd never expected them, had made peace with the silence between heartbeats where those words should have lived.

You'd imagined them differently, in all the quiet moments you'd shared — whispered against your skin in the dark, laughed into your mouth between kisses, murmured sleepily on lazy mornings. Not like this. Never like this.

How cruel, that he would finally say them now, when they felt more like a funeral rite than a confession. A parting gift from a man walking towards his own chosen end, making what should have been beautiful feel like another wound. The words you'd never dared hope for now hurt more than a lifetime of silence ever could.

Your throat burned with all the things you wanted to scream at him — about how love should mean staying, about how he was breaking your heart while trying to save it, about how dare he make those words sound like goodbye when they should have been a beginning.

"I hate you," you whispered.

He made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something more broken. "No, you don't." The certainty in his voice felt like another wound. "You love me. You said so yourself."

"I'll hate you." Your voice hardened with each word. "I'll hate you so much it'll make you wish you'd stayed."

His hand tightened on the doorframe, knuckles white with tension. For a heartbeat, you thought you'd finally cracked his composure. That he might turn around and choose you over duty, love over destiny.

He didn't.

The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded like an ending.

"But I'll wait for you anyway," you whispered to the empty room, hating yourself for the truth in those words.

The truth was, you'd always known it would end like this, known that loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who belonged to the world before he belonged to you.

But you'd been naive enough to hope. Foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, love could be enough to make him choose differently. That your selfish desire to keep him alive and whole could outweigh his selfless need to reshape the world.

The morning light cut across the empty room, highlighting the space where he'd stood moments before, and you wondered about the cruelty of it all.

Was it wrong to want to keep him here? To ask the strongest sorcerer alive to choose personal happiness over humanity's future? How many would suffer because you'd asked him to be selfish just this once?

But then again, how many had already been saved by him? How many times had he bled and broken and pieced himself back together for a world that only saw him as a shield, never as a man? Didn't he deserve the chance to live for himself, just once?

If love died today, buried six feet under noble intentions and greater goods, then maybe hate was all you had left. And wasn't there something pure in that? In hating him with the same intensity you'd loved him? In letting that hate fill the spaces he left behind, burning away the softness until all that remained was sharp edges and bitter truths?

The world needed Satoru Gojo the symbol, the untouchable god of jujutsu. But you'd needed Satoru, just Satoru, the man who brought you tea exactly how you liked it and kissed you like you were his everything. The man who was walking away, leaving you with nothing but memories and the taste of hate on your tongue.

Was it selfish to think your love was worth more than the world's need? Was it cruel to measure the weight of one heart against humanity's future?

Love and duty were never meant to be weighed against each other like this, weren't meant to be choices that tore a person in two. And perhaps that was the real tragedy — not that he was walking away, but that you'd let yourself believe he wouldn't.

You'd known how this story would end from that very first kiss. Had tasted it in every goodbye before a mission, felt it every time you waited anxiously for his return, seen it lurking behind every smile that never quite reached his eyes.

Loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who was always meant to be sacrificed. You'd just been naive enough to think sacrifice could look different, that it didn't have to end with you here, choking on love turned to ash in your mouth.

Your fingers traced your lips where those three words still lingered like a curse. The tea was getting cold on the windowsill. You should pour it out, make a fresh cup. Should start preparing for a world where Satoru Gojo was just a memory, a legend, a story of sacrifice and strength. Should learn how to breathe around the thorns growing in your chest where love used to live.

Instead, you stayed frozen, caught in the space between what was and what could have been. Because maybe he was wrong. Maybe the world didn't need someone stronger. Maybe it just needed him to come back. You certainly did.

But it was too late for maybes now. He was already gone, walking toward a destiny he'd chosen long before he'd chosen you. And you were left here, caught between hating him for leaving and loving him for exactly who he was — a man who would always choose the greater good, even when it shattered both your hearts.

But perhaps the cruelest irony was that in trying to protect humanity, he'd forgotten he was human too. That in becoming everyone's shield, he'd forgotten shields could break. That hearts could break. That yours was breaking.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, indifferent to your pain, indifferent to the way your world had just walked out the door with a smile and a promise he might not be able to keep.

You'd wait anyway. Even knowing how the story was meant to end, you'd wait. Because that's what love was — not just the beautiful parts, but the ugly parts too. The waiting. The hoping. The hating.

The choosing to love someone even when they choose something else. Even when that love turns to poison in your veins.

Even when they choose the world over you.

The tea had long gone cold when you finally moved, muscles stiff from standing still for so long. You'd sworn you wouldn't watch. Had promised yourself you wouldn't be there to see him die for his greater tomorrow.

But your hands were already reaching for your jacket.

Because that was the thing about loving Satoru Gojo — even when it turned to hate, even when it felt like acid in your throat, you couldn't look away. You'd watch him fight Sukuna. Watch him smile that infuriating smile as he chose the world one last time.

After all, you'd already promised to hate him if he didn't come back.

The least you could do was be there to keep that promise.

author's note — thank you for reading this little piece of heartbreak. i was very unsure if it will ever see the light of day but i finished it now bc i was in the mood for pain. if you enjoyed, i would greatly appreciate a reblog or comment. hope your heart isn't too broken <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk angst #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen angst

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luckykiwiii101 · 28 days ago

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“I Look Forward To Never Seeing You Again.”

P.S. Most important post ever! Lots of content, has to be read thoroughly and carefully to ensure full understanding!!! No skimming allowed here!!

ィ⠀TABLE OF CONTENTS⠀࿐

1. UNDERSTANDING THE LAW

2. IDENTIFYING ALL STRUGGLES/FEARS

3. GETTING RID OF ALL STRUGGLES/FEARS

4. HAVING A CLEAR DESIRE

5. ASSUMING & FEELING

6. PERSISTENCE

Hey Upper East Siders.

Now that halloween is over, it’s not long till the spooky chill of October turns into the icy chill of November. Hot cup of chocolate in one hand, and your dream life in the other.

Once upon a December ago, the only thing you held in both hands was incompetence and procrastination. Notice how I didn’t mention failure? Well that’s because, you can’t fail with a correct procedure. And the only thing that should be falling next season, is snow, not you.

And to the old state? Oh how we never look forward to seeing her again. Because after reading this post, you will break free from all your limitations and fulfill your every desire.

Are you ready to say goodbye to the old state? For good this time, that is. Because you’re not going another year without your dream life, not on my watch. And not on your watch either.

ィ⠀UNDERSTANDING THE LAW⠀࿐

As we all know, understanding the law of assumption is the most important thing ever. There are two very, and I mean VERY important concepts of the law that you need to understand. Here they are -> CREATION IS FINISHED!!!

-> Read this post by Edward Art and read it thoroughly!

-> CLICK HERE TO READ

-> KEY QUOTES: “Creation is finished.”

“In order for us to desire, there must be fulfilment of that desire.” -> This means you cannot have a desire, without a version of you that already has it existing. So whatever you are desiring right now, there is a version of you that has it. What I mean by “there’s a version of you that already has it”, means that there is a version of you that has it in the 4D. Your inner self has it. You just have to become aware of that version ( BECOME that version in imagination and fully identify with that version).

“These are versions of YOURSELF. THEY ARE YOURS.” -> Without this understanding, people think that they cannot achieve their desires because it’s “too far away” and out of reach. How can something be out of reach when you already have it when creation is finished? There is nothing external when it comes to the law of assumption. Everything is within you. Your dream life comes from you. There is no magical force outside of you that gives you what you want. Is your awareness far away from you? Is your awareness out of reach? No, and neither are your desires, because they are you. Change what you are aware of.

Now onto the MOST important understanding!

-> INNER SELF IS YOUR REAL SELF!!!

-> Read this post by Edward Art and read it thoroughly!!!

-> CLICK HERE TO READ

KEY QUOTES: “IDENTIFY yourself FULLY with the INNER MAN.” -> When you do not fully identify yourself with the inner self, you start to identify with the outer self. And the outer self holds nothing but doubt, fear and struggle. But when you fully identify with your inner self, I promise you, those doubts, fears and struggles no longer exist.

“The outer man sees nothing but limitations.” -> You know that when you start to feel fear & doubt, that you are identifying with the outer man. Limitations don’t exist within your inner self. You need to understand that your inner self = consciousness. When you are changing what you are aware of, you are changing what you are conscious of. Your consciousness has NO limitations, because you are God/Creator of your reality. All your limitations come from the outer self, and when you no longer identify with your outer self, all those limitations no longer exist, and you will no longer feel them. And that is a promise.

NOTE: Your inner self is truly your real self. Because the outer self reflects the inner self. The one within is who creates! The 4D reality is the real reality because the 3D cannot exist without it!!! The 3D is FULLY dependent on the 4D! Not the other way around. To understand this concept further, CLICK HERE

ィ⠀IDENTIFYING ALL STRUGGLES/FEARS⠀࿐

✩ Being and Having becomes difficult when you have underlying doubts, fears and struggles. You may be stopping yourself from fully identifying with the Inner self without even realising.

✩ Right now, and yes I mean right now, open up your notes app, or get a paper and pen, and ask yourself :

“What do I struggle with when manifesting?”

“What are my fears and doubts when manifesting?”

✩ Really take the time to think about what you struggle with and write down your answers. Be completely honest with yourself, no sugarcoating.

ィ⠀GETTING RID OF ALL STRUGGLES/FEARS⠀࿐

-> Now that you’ve identified all your struggles & fears, I want you to think about where those doubts, fears etc are coming from.

-> I promise you one thing, there is only one simple answer to this question. The answer is “Identification with the OUTER self.”

-> ALL and I mean it, ALL of your doubts & fears come from the outer self. The one who is currently experiencing the 3D. No matter what your doubts and fears are, they come from the outer self. Remember the previous quote, “The outer man sees nothing but limitations.”

-> ALL your struggles will disappear when you identify with the Inner self. Your inner self is limitless and it’s all you need to manifest your dream life.

-> You do not need to do subconscious training and meditations etc to get rid of your struggles and fears and doubts, all you need is yourself. Nothing external will help you. You NEED to understand that the ONLY way to get rid of your struggles is to STOP identifying with the 3D (your outer world & self), and to FULLY identify with the 4D (your inner world & self).

-> NOTE: Unidentifying with the 3D doesn’t mean to ignore the 3D. You are still experiencing the 3D in your day to day life, you simply cannot ignore it. All you can do is just not identify with it. How do you do this? When you experience the 3D, you do not assume that your 3D self is the real you, because your inner self is the real you! You view the 3D as nothing but an illusion based on past assumptions.

-> Now you may be thinking, “So how do I identify with the inner self.” We will come to that later in this post. I will take you through creating and maintaining assumptions and fully identifying with your Inner self and completely un-identifying with the outer self.

ィ⠀HAVING A CLEAR DESIRE⠀࿐

✩ It’s important to know what you want to manifest. That’s what we call desire. It all starts with desire. Make sure you know what you want to give to your inner self. Know who you want to become.

✩ You also need to know how you are going to go about giving your inner self this desire and fully identifying with it.

✩ Right now, make a list of what you are going to manifest (give to your inner self). Know what you truly, deeply want and promise to stick to it.

ィ⠀ASSUMING & FEELING⠀࿐

✩ Now this is the part where people get confused. If you don’t know already, FEELING is the secret. FEELING is what manifests. Your 3D conforms when the feeling (having your desires) is natural to you.

-> CLICK HERE to read my post about feeling and what the “feeling” is. This is a slightly simplified version of Edward Art’s post. If you want further understanding (which you need), to read Edward’s post CLICK HERE

-> Now that you know what the feeling is, you need to know how to practise it. How to use your senses to imagine and accept. Luckily for you, here is the perfect explanation of how you should be imagining. -> CLICK HERE

-> SUMMARY of what your imagining “process” should look like :

-> STEP 1: Remembering that your only goal is to become who you want to be in IMAGINATION only!!

-> STEP 2: Give yourself whatever you want in imagination through the use of any methods that you prefer. Experience having it in imagination with the knowledge that the inner self in the real self. You cannot deny being when you experienced it.

✩ NOTE: -> Make sure that you know which methods fulfill you. If affirming does not feel natural to you, then choose another method of imagining etc visualising may feel more natural to you. Keep in mind that if you are someone who visualises but has to look at a picture to visualise properly, do not rely on anything external like a picture. Because you do not always have access to a picture of what you want to experience in imagination. Yes, you can visualise when looking at pictures, videos etc, but when you do not have access to those pics and vids, make sure that you use other senses rather than trying to visualise something you want and failing then feeling unfulfilled because the vision didn’t turn out how you wanted it to sue to intrusive thoughts etc. In other words, do what truly fulfills you! It doesn’t matter what method you use as long as you allow the feeling of the wish fulfilled and focus completely on that feeling.

✩ NOTE 2: When visualising, start by feeling fulfilled through deciding etc or any other method, then start to visualise with the feeling because that feeling generates scenes, vaunts, affs FOR you and it is SO much more natural.

-> STEP 3: Allowing the feeling of the wish fulfilled when you are experiencing having your desires in imagination. Fully focusing on the FEELING having your desires as your inner self in imagination gives you! You know for a fact that you aren’t waiting for anything and that you have your desires without a doubt in imagination.

-> STEP 4: FULLY identifying with your INNER self and completely disregarding your 3D self. This is what true persistence is. Continuing to identify with your inner self regardless of what feelings and thoughts the outer self tries to impose on you.

ィ⠀PERSISTENCE⠀࿐

✩ Now for the final part. Persistence. Without persistence, you aren’t being who you want to be.

PERSISTING = Completely identifying with the inner self regardless of what feelings and thoughts the outer self tries to impose on you.

-> When you are persisting you have to fully become and maintain your identification with the inner self and the inner self only.

-> Read this post by Edward Art on identifying with the inner self -> CLICK HERE

-> You have to completely immerse yourself in the inner self because that is the real you! This is what true persistence is because identifying with the inner self means to no longer doubt, fear or struggle.

-> Now for the last part of persisting, you have to stay CONSISTENT!!!

ィ⠀COMMIT TO CHANGING SELF⠀࿐

You have to completely commit to your new story. No half arsing it. The inner you (4D) is your new dwelling state. NO more dwelling in the 3D.

STEP ONE: Decide what you want

STEP TWO: Imagine & Feel -> When dwelling in the feeling of the wish fulfilled, when you are done imagining, tell yourself “I know for a fact that I have my desires right now in imagination and that the inner me is the real me.” -> If you do not believe this with 100% certainty, you cannot move on with whatever you are doing. GO BACK TO IMAGINATION AND CORRECT THAT FEELING SO THAT YOU FEEL WITH 100% CERTAINTY THAT YOU HAVE WHATEVER YOU WANT IN IMAGINATION BECAUSE THE INNER YOU HAS IT!!! YOU DO NOT VIEW IT AS A DESIRE BECAUSE YOU ARE 100% FULFILLED!!!

-> Read my post on how to imagine correctly (CLICK HERE)

-> Read Edward Art’s post on imagining for an example (CLICK HERE!)

STEP THREE: Persist! If you do not imagine and feel with 100% certainty that you have your “desires” in imagination, then you cannot consider yourself to be persisting. You can’t just half be in the state. You have to fully be in the state of the wish fulfilled. And the only way to do that is by fully identifying with your inner self.

-> You are not focusing on the confirmation of the 3D. That worry comes from the outer self. KEEP GOING BACK TO IMAGINATION NO MATTER WHAT!!!

-> You are going to do this EVERY.SINGLE.TIME your “desires” come to mind. No excuses. There is nothing to change but self. Imagine whatever you want and identify with it.

Wondering what to “do” when experiencing 3D circumstances?

-> You are NOT supposed to be “ignoring” the 3D. How can you ignore something that is right in-front of you. You have to view the 3D as nothing but an illusion based on past assumptions!!! This is how you unidentify with the 3D! It has nothing to do with you because it is nothing but an ILLUSION based on PAST assumptions!!!

-> If you “fall” out of the state, it’s okay don’t curse at yourself. Just go back to imagination and feeling. Also if you find yourself naturally thinking from your old assumptions, just go back to imagination and feeling. Nothing can “ruin” or “stop” your manifestations because you already have it!!!

-> No matter what, keep going back to imagination and feeling! No matter what you feel, go back to imagination and feeling! No matter how difficult the 3D is, go back to imagination and feeling! The 3D has nothing to do with you once you stop identifying with it!

-> If 3D circumstances get too much for you, go back to imagination. The answer to everything is, just simply go back to imagination. Seek proof in imagination. It is your safe place. Make it your safe place by evicting the outer world from your inner world. Create a beautiful world for yourself in there. You always have access to imagination. You always have access to the feeling.

-> There are no excuses to not persist, especially after reading this post!

P.S. Make sure you’ve read every post i’ve linked throughout this post! They are extremely important!!

-> People with the success stories are the ones who have fully identified with the inner self. -> @loasuccessarchive

-> Read my favourite success story quotes (CLICK HERE)

You have no excuses. Go give yourself your dream life. December’s coming. And Santa’s not going to drop your dream life down your chimney. Give yourself a holly jolly Christmas, and a dream life to feel thankful for on thanksgiving. You know you love me. XOXO

- gossip girl

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successfulgoddess333 · 27 days ago

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IDK WHAT TO TITLE THIS??? Just read

I think by creating countless amounts of posts to help people reach the state of shifting or enter the void state is low key pointless

Because why do I have to continue to tell you

A bunch of people I’ll never actually talk to

Irl

How to do something we were all created and born TO DO??

You’re just read this and then proceed to not do it anyway

The reason you’re on here is actually why you “can’t do it”

It’s not that you can’t

You won’t

Because you’re procrastinating but not only are you procrastinating you’re also

Trying to figure out how to do something

You’ve always known what to do

I read somewhere some ppl can’t enter the void

Because it was scientifically proven that we all have different parts of brains that’ll allow it or something I don’t remember but google it

I think that’s weird

Because the void state is literally conscious

Every single human being has consciousness

And we can all access it through meditation hypnosis etc

Why some ppl enter it more easily

Is because they don’t overthink it most ppl look at it as a “oooh I wanna try it”

When you’re excited to try something you don’t over complicate it or assume it’s not gonna work

Even if you do you’re still too excited to try it to care

it’s important that if you’ve already discovered the loa void state and shifting

You should continue to believe in it

But the actions matter just as much as the intentions

Your actions shouldn’t be wavering like

Is it real?

But then saying you believe it is

Figure it out

Do you believe in it or not?

Stop confusing your subconscious mind

Now back to what I was saying earlier

You keep treating it like a chore or a job

When you finally lay down to meditate you think

“What’s takin so long?”

Babe

Your impatience is the reason you’re not getting it

The whole point is for relaxation but since you’ve all put it on a pedestal

With the manifesting

You act as if

It’s a wish granter

It’s not

You are the reason you get your desire

You could get in the void rn but you’d only get your desires if YOU say your affirmations

Stop

Waiting to enter the void

If you have this mindset it’s not gone happen

Think of it as a

You’re setting the intention and just vibing

That’s why my method with the music works so well

Because I don’t overthink with music on

Music keeps me awake mentally and certain songs keep me relaxed physically

Plus it’s a good energy then just depending on a subliminal or something

It’s not doing it for you

My method plus ppl on here literally getting in the void

With no background noise is proof that subliminals are just guiding you to a destination you were already going to reach on your own

So what to take from this post

1. Stop depending on subliminals it’s fine to use them but thinking it’s gonna get your results is putting power into something that isn’t as powerful as you

2. Procrastination is going to be the cost of a life you could be living The more you linger on this looking for the answers you already know the longer you’ll be living in a world you are desperately trying to escape from congrats you’ve got a Dr you can daydream and escape this reality mentally but what’s the fun in that? That life you keep fantasizing is real and the universe knows how bad you want it so why fantasize? Go there

3. Why are you wondering how ppl get in the void easily? Simply just stop thinking about it so much literally just meditate think affirm whatever don’t even think of the void but still have that intention in your mind you wanna move your body? Why? You hate this reality you wanna block out all the physicality it actually feels so good to just be in a moment of peace I’m telling y’all the key to entering the void shifting etc other OOB experiences is literally just stop paying attention

You know so many ppl with adhd

Or other neurodivergent disorders think it’s so difficult to focus

But I remember years ago I accidentally entered the void without knowing what it was

I was so sleepy I laid down

Got distracted by a thought

And literally it went black for like five seconds and I felt nothing

So literally just stop paying attention

Affirm

If you want

Set the intention count whatever

Or you could just set the intention and just think

Of literally anything

That doesn’t cause physical reactions like a funny thought you’d laugh at

But just pretend you’re dreaming like how you normally would

Which brings me to my method

THE DREAM METHOD:

You could pretend to be dreaming

Like if you can’t visualize it still use your sense

Image your dreaming

And in that dream you’re living your dream life or you could “dream” that you’re in the void

However you want your void to look

By not moving you’re tricking your body into thinking you’re asleep

And by pretending to be dreaming

You’re tricking your mind into thinking

You’re both sleeping and dreaming

This will make you either dream Forreal

Or you could use this to get in the void

When or if you feel symptoms

By the way

Those floaty etc symptoms are actually signs that you’re astral projecting because shifting your awareness is a mind thing

NOT an outer body experience

So if you feel floaty dizzy spinning etc

You are astral projecting

BUT

You can use astral projection to shift and to enter the void

You’re Welcome

Also P.S but have you ever zoned out and stared at something til your vision got all blurry and background noises get fuzzy and whatever you’re focused on is the only think you can subconsciously focus on?

Yeahhh it’s a trance

Try doing this while meditating with your eyes open then close them and keep doing it

What ever you were focus on

Close your eyes

Set the intention

Affirm for a bit

Breathe then

Imagine something

Anything you’d want

And pretend to dream

By just visualizing or thinking or using your senses

You could put on an instrumental and imagine your doing a music video

If you feel symptoms just remember

Nothings physically happening to you

So why focus on it?

If someone saw you you’d still be in bed

Not moving

Itchy feelings mean your body is feeling as if you’re awake

There’s no actual physical symptoms of entering the void

Because it’s not really an out of body experience it’s you shifting your awareness has nothing to do with your body

Since you’re shifting to the 4D

The 4D is not physical

I may have mentioned symptoms in my previous posts I don’t remember I’m not a hypocrite I just learn and get more educated

But no matter

Take this how you want

And even if I could help

I could never get you into the void state

It’s literally me trying to tell YOUR subconscious mind to do something you already know how to do

Like cmon

Also

You don’t need the void to shift

Trust me there’s a gagillion methods

Another also

You don’t even need a method just lay down don’t move

Trust me weird shit will happen

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bugintheruins · 2 years ago

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#:'] was procrastinating english essay all break and i went to do it earlier but i left the poetry book in school #and i cant remember the poems so i went looking for them but its as if theyre just not online????#and so now im going into school tomorrown with 1. no english essay 2. no study for history test done and 3. no art question done #but the art is ok cus we have tutor time instead of thay tmrw #but i had them to do in that order english->history->art so since i dodnt do the english i did none!!!!!!#had a whole talk with mam the other day about how this coming 'problem period' with the lc and all to do with it #is the longest ive had to deal with and also the Most Important #any test before ive been comforted by 'it doesnt go towards anything' BUT THIS WILL #and i also have to do portfolio but idk if i even wanna do thos course anymore??? and then the music practicals and the orals #and jesus christ the essays #and anything lije this ice always had the end of the problem period marked with a day and this one in my head is the debs #thats when i know itll be all ok #cus ill have done all that i can have done and itll just be a waiting game. with the benefit of a big fancy party #but thats in august so ill have to stave off the impending mental breakdown thats only a wisp of a hairs snap away from breaking me :D #also instead of doing the essay today i went out n bought new wool and decided to start a temperature blanket #for the busiest year of my fucking life so far but yknow maybe itll keep me sane like the counting did for yer man in tokyo ghoul idfk #vent #im. just. tired. and im looking forward to it all being over ;w;

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imaginespazzi · 5 months ago

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Part 1: Simple Things

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

Cause your presence still lingers here (it won't leave me alone)

(In which a procrastinating writer starts another series to continuously procrastinate on)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining

Words: 5.8K (lowkey shocked I managed that)

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Look at me not being a liar! I'mma try to be good with updates but we all know me. This first chapter is mainly buildup and it's not my favorite but it's important to get the plot rolling. I know very little about California and it's going to become more and more apparent throughout this series so everyone who knows Cali, just pretend thanks! Did I edit? Yes. Are there probably still mistakes? Also yes. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked, and what you wanna see next!

February 2033

“Anywhere but GSV,” Paige says adamantly, staring at the white wall in front of her, instead of her exasperated agent.

Talia lets out a deep sigh, perfectly manicured sharp red nails tapping incessantly against her desk. For the most part, Paige is a dream client and when Talia says jump, she says how high. It’s easy to trust Talia’s vision when she hasn’t let her down once since Paige’s management company has assigned her to their basketball sensation. But most of those decisions had been about endorsement opportunities, opportunities that wouldn’t have other ramifications on the rest of Paige’s life, opportunities that didn’t come with personal consequences.

“Paige-”

“How about the Sparks?”

“They’re not offering nearly as much.”

“I’m okay with taking a pay-.”

“You do not pay me as much as you do for me to let you finish such a stupid sentence.”

“Fine,” Paige spins around in her swivel chair, “you’re telling me nobody else is offering me anything as big as GSV.”

“Well I mean Indiana…” Talia trails off, barely able to hide an impish grin at Paige’s pronounced eyeroll, “and of course you could always just stay in Dallas.”

Paige winces at the mention of the current team. With one championship and two MVP campaigns under her belt, it would be incorrect to say her time with the Wings hadn’t been fruitful but she’d never felt quite at home here. And that had been before the personnel changes had hit Dallas and suddenly, the team coming off a near perfect season with a trophy in their hand, was struggling to keep themselves in playoff contention. Paige had stuck it out two more seasons after, a testament to her loyal nature and desire to start and finish her career at the same place like many legends had done but ultimately enough had been enough and she’s come to terms with the fact that she’s not meant to be a part of the Wings forever.

“Can’t you try talking to the Sparks again?” she says, hands massaging her temple as she resorts to begging, “it’s fucking L.A. they’ve got to have some money lying around somewhere.”

“Even if they did, you and I both know the Sparks aren’t a good fit basketball wise either. GSV has everything you’re looking for. They need a PG and you need a championship contender who’s offering you a deal like they are. You can’t throw all of that away just because-”, Talia bites her lip, catching herself before she can vocalise out loud the real reason they’re having such a complicated conversation about what should be a simple decision.

Paige swallows uncomfortably, skin prickling with that all too familiar fire that spreads through her veins every time her past brushes a little too close to her present. It would be impossible to keep them from ever colliding, but for almost a decade now, Paige has managed to keep them separate beyond absolute necessity. She’s done the cordial handshakes when the Wings played the Valkyries and given due diligent praise when the media had asked about the competition, but that was it. More than that would have been like willingly walking into a fire with kerosene all over her body. And Paige can’t do that, not when the burn marks from years and years ago, still haven’t healed.

“Team chemistry is important,” Paige says finally, “I might be an on-court fit at GSV but that won’t matter if it’s a disaster off the court.”

Talia sighs and Paige can tell she’s fighting the urge to whack her head against her desk, “it’s been years Paige. You've lived a whole life without each other. The two of you are adults. You’re professionals and you’re two of the best goddamn players in the league. You have the same goal; you want to win. You don’t think you can put that behind you to get you both what you want?”

You've lived a whole life without each other

It’s like a well-aimed arrow that barely breaks skin but shatters something underneath, something buried deep within, something she should have gotten rid of years ago but hasn’t been able to let go of yet. Something that feels a lot like a forever she’d never gotten to live out and an always that had flown out of her reach. And Paige knows nobody lives the life they’d expected to live at fifteen or even eighteen but the truth is that most of her dreams had come true. The only thing missing was the person she’d expected to be there by her side when they did.

“Okay listen,” Talia begins again, “here’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Bossy,” Paige smirks, bracing herself, knowing she’s not about to like the next words out of Talia’s mouth.

“You’re going to go to San Francisco,” the older woman raises a silencing hand the minute Paige tries to protest, “you’re going to meet the front office, you’re going to meet the GM and you’re going to tour their facilities. And if after talking with them and seeing all they have to offer, if it’s still not enough to counter having to play with her, then we can revisit this conversation.”

“Can I say no?” Paige tilts her head with a sigh.

Talia smirks and it’s enough for Paige to let her head finally hit the table, “your flight leaves in two days.”

***

Azzi wakes up to a light weight sprawled over her back and tiny fingers rubbing circles against her temple. She can’t help but smile, keeping her eyes closed and listening to the sound of her daughter’s quiet breathing as the little girl continues her ministrations. It’s a new skill she’s been taught, to wake her mom up like this instead of screaming. So far, Azzi think’s it’s been a successful transition.

“Mama,” Stephie whispers in Azzi’s ear, “are you awake yet cause I really really want waffles.”

Azzi laughs, finally flipping herself over and Stephie squeals as she goes from on top of her mother, to landing on the bed, “I thought you said you wanted pancakes last night?”

“I did,” a thoughtful look crosses the five-year-old's eyes, “I think I changed my mind.”

“You think?” Azzi suppresses a smile. It’s uncanny really how she’d given birth to her perfect mini-me. The moment the nurses had placed the tiny little creature into her waiting hands, she’d noticed immediately how much it felt like looking through a door into her childhood. And with every passing day, it seems Stephie morphs more and more into Azzi. From the way her face betrays her every emotion to the way she can’t make a decision to save her life, it’s all Azzi and really it makes sense, because Stephie is all Azzi’s.

“Yes,” Stephie nods matter-of-factly as she sits up onto her knee and pulls at Azzi’s blanket, “so can you get up and make me waffles now?”

“Oh of course I can, your highness,” Azzi says dramatically, rising off the bed and letting Stephie climb onto her back, “would you like chocolate sauce or maple syrup with that your majesty?”

Stephie groans, burying her face in Azzi’s neck as if her mother has asked her to make the most difficult decision in the world. They settle into their morning routine, Stephie brushing her teeth as Azzi goes through her meticulous skin care regiment, occasionally dabbing little bits of this and that on her daughter’s skin, eliciting soft giggles from the little girl. It’s her favourite sound in the entire world. Azzi’s life isn’t perfect and there’s a million what if’s, one bigger than all of the others, that plague her mind sometimes but then she looks at Stephie, and she knows she wouldn’t change a single decision she’d made. Because they’ve all led to this moment, 9 am on a Friday, making waffle batter as her five-year old sits on the counter-top. It’s not everything but it’s enough.

The frantic sound of a door being haphazardly slammed open has both Stephie and Azzi startled, until Colleen comes bursting through it like a tornado.

“Oh thank god you’re awake,” Azzi’s best friend and manager says, out of breath, as she throws her car keys on the kitchen table.

“Hi Aunty Leen,” Stephie grins, waffle batter all over her mouth as she continues to dip and lick.

“Hey kiddo,” Colleen ruffles Stephie’s hair before sitting down and staring pointedly up at Azzi, “you might wanna sit down for this. I have news.”

“Sorry to break it to you Collen but your new h-o-o-k-u-p-s are not sit-down-newsworthy,” Azzi smirks as Colleen scrunches up her nose trying to keep up with the spelling.

“Oh trust me Az, I wish this was about my h-o-o- whatever,” Colleen takes a deep breath, “GSV is meeting with a potential point guard this week.”

“I would hope so. We really need a PG if we’re gonna redeem ourselves next season.”

“Right, well- you see- the thing is-”

“Today if you can please Colleen,” but there’s this knot forming in the pit of her stomach. Her sixth sense that’s been dormant for years is prickling and if she’s honest with herself, Azzi knows the next words that are about to come out of Colleen’s mouth before her best friend has even said them.

“GSV wants to sign Paige,” Colleen says slowly.

For a moment there’s silence and it’s ridiculous how all it takes is her name for Azzi’s mind to start flipping through pages and pages of a photo album she’s buried deep in the treasure chest of her mind. And for a second, she allows herself to get lost in a flood of everything we could have been until the sting of her hand slipping against the waffle iron jolts her back to reality.

“Fuck,” she curses, immedaitely blowing at her fingers. It does nothing. She should know by now that when things burn, the flames might die out, but even the ashes remain on fire.

“Bad word Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, unaware that her mother’s world has just been thrown off balance, “you owe me a kiss.”

She juts her cheek out and Azzi complies, trying to ignore the way her heart is desperately trying to beat out of her chest. It only calms down a little when Stephie presses a kiss of her own against Azzi’s cheek.

“Sorry sweetheart, mama’s bad, Here can you mix this batter for me,” Azzi whispers to the younger girl, distracting her child with something to do, before rounding on her best friend, “she can’t come here.”

Colleen sighs, getting comfortable in her chair, “unfortunately I don’t think you have much choice.”

“The h-” Azzi cuts herself off, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, “the haystack I don’t. This is my team and I don’t want her on it and I’m gonna walk into Ohemaa’s office and tell her exactly that.”

“Right and what exactly are you going to tell her when she asks you why you don’t want the best point guard in the league on your team Azzi? Your team, who mind you, lost in the finals last year because you didn’t have a point guard.”

Azzi flinches, gritting her teeth, both at the reminder of the loss that had happened not long enough ago and the fact that she couldn’t very well go into her boss’s office and blurt out the truth about a tragic relationship that had lived and died in secret.

“It's a bad idea, the two of us- we’ll kill each other Colleen,” she struggles to string the words together, swallowing away the we already have that tastes like bile on the tip of her tongue.

“Well you’re gonna have to learn not to,” Colleen says decisively, slipping from being Azzi’s best friend to her manager, “because you and I both know that if you want GSV to win another championship, you’re going to need her.”

“Are you my manager or GSV’s,” Azzi grunts, rubbing a tired hand against her forehead.

Colleen smiles, “it’s the same thing isn’t it? What’s good for GSV is good for you. And we all know the two of you thrive on the court together.”

“We did. Past tense,” the admission falls like lava from Azzi’s lips, singeing the edges of her mouth as everything that she’d let simmer underneath threatens to bubble over, “there’s no guarantee we still will. Besides, it's all a moot point anyways because she would never agree.”

“Wouldn’t she?” Colleen cocks an eyebrow and Azzi groans at the rhetorical question, waiting for the inevitable other shoe to drop, “because last I checked, she’s flying into San Francisco tomorrow.”

***

Paige has a problem. A really big fuck i really want to be a golden state valkyrie type of problem. She’d fought it every step of the way since she’d landed in San Francisco. Something about the city felt like it was bursting with basketball. The drive from the airport into Oakland had been bursting with murals of the Warriors and the Valkyries and for a split second, Paige can see her own face up on the billboards in a #5 Valkyries jersey. She just doesn’t know if it she can imagine herself next to the woman in #35 again, the woman whose smile in the posters is exactly as she remembers it to have been like when it was pressed into Paige’s skin every night almost a decade ago.

On top of that, Omehaa Nyanin had seemed to know exactly what made Paige Bueckers, the basketball player, tick. Every argument Paige had about why she shouldn’t be Valkyrie, the woman had a counter ready, as if she’d already anticipated exactly what the blonde would say. The Valkyrie coach had been even more prepared with videos of their offensive and defensive sets and how they fit in tandem with Paige’s own skill set, all ready to show off the minute she had walked through the door. It should be the easiest decision in the world to let herself just belong to this world that is screaming her name but there’s a rope around her waist trying to tug her back to safety, trying to tug her away from dousing her still-open wounds in salt.

Sighing, Paige lets herself into what she’s been told is called the “chill area”. Coach had offered to give her a tour of the facilities herself but Paige had declined, asking instead for her former UConn teammate and currently Valkyrie centre Jana El Alfy to do the honours, desperate for a familiar face who knew her history to bounce her thoughts off. It clearly wasn’t what the woman had wanted, but considering she was trying to convince Paige to choose them, whatever the blonde wanted, she was going to get. Massaging her temples at this irritating predicament she’s unwillingly found herself in, Paige’s head rolls back against the back of the chair, eyes closing involuntarily.

“You’re not supposed to sleep in here,” a tiny voice echoes and Paige almost jumps out her skin in shock.

“Fucking hell,” she curses as her eyes fall upon a little girl who seems to have materialized out of nowhere, “shit kid, you scared me.”

The child scrunches her nose and Paige feels her heart beat start to quicken as recognition settles in. She knows this little girl, has seen her on the sidelines at countless games and just like every other time, all she can think of is just how much this child resembles the future Paige had once believed would be hers.

“You owe me three kisses,” the girl says matter-of-factly, her tone so similar to her mothers. It shouldn’t surprise Paige, not when the kid has those same dark curls, those same doey brown eyes, that same nose scrunch.

“I owe you three kisses?” Paige repeats.

The girl rolls her eyes letting out a sigh far too grave for someone of her age, “yes. Mama says whenever someone says a bad word around me, they have to give me a kiss. You said three bad words, so you owe me three kisses.”

“And what does Mama say about asking strangers for kisses?”

“Stranger danger duh silly,” the child puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she looks at Paige with a far too familiar expression, “but you’re not a stranger.”

Paige purses her lips, “I’m not?”

“You’re Paige Bueckers. I’ve seen you at Mama’s games and Nanna and Pops have pictures of you in their house,” she stops, staring accusingly, “you don’t know who I am? Did you forget me?”

And Paige doesn’t know what catches her off guard more. The casual mention of a house that used to feel like a home, of people that used to feel like family or the fact that, that puppy dog stare still has the exact same effect on her that it did years ago, even if the owner of said eyes is different.

“Of course I didn’t forget you. You’re Stephanie,” Paige says softly, trying to muster a smile as she adds the last name, “Stephanie Fudd.”

“Stephanie Katarina Fudd,” comes the immediate correction, “but everybody calls me Stephie,” tiny hands wrap around Paige’s neck as Stephie climbs on to her lap, tapping a finger on her left cheek as she smiles up at Paige, “so now can I have my kisses?”

Slowly, Paige presses three featherlight kisses against the little girl’s cheek and when Stephie squeals in delight, she wishes she could record it. Someone somewhere is playing a practical joke on her, Paige is sure of it. Because all of a sudden, all the little things she’s been collecting as to reasons why she might just like the Bay Area are starting to feel insignificant in front of this one, in front of Stephie and her innocent smile and the way her free hand is curled around Paige’s neck as if she’ll hold on forever. And the world is definitely playing a cruel prank on her because Stephie can’t be the reason Paige wants to stay, not when her mother’s the reason Paige needs to go.

“Your Mama just lets you run around the building like this?” Paige asks, trying to focus on Stephie instead of the turmoil in her brain.

Stephie smiles sheepishly, “well I was ‘posed to stay with Aunty Leen while Mama talks to Miss O but then Aunty Leen got a call and I was bored so I came here.”

It doesn’t take Paige too long to decipher that Miss O must be Omehaa, but she’s stuck on who the hell Aunty Leen could be. She’s distinctly aware that her skin has no right to prickle, her hands have no right to sweat, her stomach has no right to knot, she has no right to feel anything when it comes to Stephie’s mother. But jealousy floods through her anyways.

“Who is Aunty Leen?” Paige asks and then mentally slaps herself for it.

“Aunty Leen is Aunty Leen,” Stephie explains unhelpfully, “so Miss Buecks-”

“Bueckers.”

Stephie shoots her an unimpressed look, “same things Miss Buecks. Are you here to join Mama’s team?”

“I-” Paige scratches her neck, only slightly taken aback by the direct question, “I don’t know.”

“You should,” Stephies says decisively, “Mama’s team is the best team in the world and Mama’s the best player in the whole wide world.”

Paige can’t help but smile at Stephie’s loyalty, “so why does her team need me then?”

Stephie looks contemplative for a moment before she uses her index finger to beckon Paige towards her, “can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course you can,” Paige says, leaning her ear down so Stephie can whisper into it.

“Don’t tell anyone but you’re my second favourite player.”

Paige swears her heart feels like it might burst. She’s been plenty of people’s favourite player and it’s always been nice to hear. But somehow, all of that seems to pale in comparison to being Stephie’s second favourite player.

“Why’s that a secret?” she asks softly.

“Cause you play for the wrong team silly. I can’t cheer for not Mama’s team,” Stephie huffs and then her eyes twinkle, “that’s why you should play for Mama’s team and then I can support you!”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Paige concedes, battling against the part of her brain that’s conjuring up an image of Stephie on the sidelines, cheering for Paige.

“What’s log-ic?” Stephie asks.

“Just means you’re a really smart kid,” Paige says, tapping the little girl’s nose. Her head is ringing with warning bells because this floaty feeling of belonging that’s encompassed in this little bubble she’s found herself in with Stephie is not one she’s allowed to feel, not now, not ever.

“STEPHIE,” a shrill voice echoes outside and Stephie immediately dives into Paige’s neck, hiding herself in the crook of it as a frazzled woman bursts through the door. Her eyes soften when they fall on Paige and the blonde can’t help the caught expression that filters on her face. She knows she’s done nothing wrong; Stephie had been the one to find her after all. But perhaps it’s because she’s scared Colleen will take one look at her and see that tiny rebellious part of her that wants to fight what’s coming next, wants to fight the woman who’s going to take Stephie away from her. Paige isn’t one to get attached easily. It had only ever happened once before when she was fifteen and she’d just known that the girl shooting three’s next to her on the court was meant to be in her life in one way or another. But things had been simple then. Nothing was simple now.

“Stephie,” Colleen says slowly, “what have I told you about running away from me?”

Stephie peeks her head out from Paige’s chest, a coy smirk playing on her lips, “not to do it? But you were boring me Aunty Leen.”

Oh that’s Aunty Leen, Paige thinks and she absolutely should not let out a sigh of relief at that but she does anyway.

“I was on the phone for two minutes, Steph.”

“Two minutes too long,” Stephie counters and Paige has to stifle a laugh.

Colleen rolls her eyes before holding out a hand, “well your Mama’s nearly done so we have to get going kiddo.”

“Can Miss Buecks come with us?” Stephie asks innocently and both Colleen and Paige freeze.

“I don’t think-”

“I’m not sure-”

They both begin before their eyes flicker to each other and they can’t help but smile. It’s funny how relationships work, how one snapped string can cause a whole web to dissolve, no matter how hard everyone involved had tried to make it work.

“I’m waiting to meet someone sweetheart so I can’t come right now,” Paige explains, “but maybe next time?”

And she shouldn’t add that last part, not when Paige should be devising an escape plan to never be in Oakland again instead of giving Stephie false hope about a next time that’s far from guaranteed. But it’s worth it for the way Stephie grins, staring at Paige like she’s given her the world’s greatest gift.

Before Paige can say anything, the little girl presses her lips against Paige’s cheek and she swears she stops breathing for a moment, “I hope you choose to play for Mama’s team Miss Buecks. I think you’d look pretty in purple.”

***

May 2024

“I’ve figured it out,” Paige says triumphantly as she unceremoniously flops onto Azzi’s bed.

“Well hi to you too babe,” Azzi grumbles as she scoots over to give the other girl space. It’s unnecessary because the minute she does, Paige only moves closer, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s torso.

“Hi baby,” she whispers before pressing a kiss against her girlfriend’s lips and pulling away so quickly that it leaves Azzi chasing after her.

Azzi huffs and Paige laughs as she gets herself comfortable, resting her chest on the darker skinned girl's stomach, “I’ve figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“Our future,” Paige says triumphantly and Azzi can’t help but smile at the our as she intertwines their fingers together. It’s been years in the making and there’s nothing Azzi’s more confident in than those two words. Not everyone finds forever this young, but she’s certain they have because really she can’t imagine a life where they don’t belong to each other, a life where every night isn’t spent exactly like this.

“And what do you see for our future,” Azzi asks softly.

“Well it’s simple really,” Paige hums, “I’m going to get drafted wherever next year but the year after, you’re definitely getting drafted to Valkyries-”

“I don’t know about definitely-”

“Azzi it’s rude to interrupt,” Paige sends her a chastising look.

“Right of course,” Azzi nods solemnly, “continue.”

“As I was saying. You’re definitely getting drafted to the Valks and then we just have to wait for my rookie contract to be up and boom! I’ll join you in the Bay Area and we’ll be together forever and ever and ever.”

Azzi giggles, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair, “that simple huh?”

“That simple,” Paige promises, catching hold of one of Azzi’s hands to press a kiss to her palm, “it’s us Az, we’ll always be simple. Besides, I think we’d both look pretty good in purple.”

***

May 2033

The Valkyrie facilities are state of the art as expected. Jana is the perfect tour guide, pointing out everything she knows will garner Paige’s attention. As they step foot onto the practice court, Paige feels the overwhelming sense of this could be home that’s been dancing along with her every step of the way today. All the resolve she’d carried with her from Dallas is slowly crashing down and she can practically hear Talia’s sing-song i told you so voice echoing in her head.

“You’d be really good here P,” Jana says excitedly, doing a little spin.

“You’d be lucky to have me,” Paige teases, as she picks up a basketball and subconsciously starts dribbling.

Jana laughs, before a serious expression takes over, “we would. We got really close to winning it all last year and I think you might be our missing piece.”

“I want to,” Paige confesses, “I just-” her eyes flicker to the most recent MVP poster hanging on the walls, Jana’s gaze following hers, “I don’t know if I should. It’s so complicated.”

“Only if you let it be,” Jana says as she swipes the ball out Paige’s hands, “don’t think of everything else P, just- just think of the basketball. Because you know basketball-wise, this is the right move,” she passes the ball to Paige with a smirk, tilting her head towards the basket, “why not take a shot at it P?”

Paige shakes her head, palming the ball in her hands, “can’t believe my son’s all grown up.”

“Children of divorce have no choice but to grow up,” Jana says gravely and Paige laughs despite herself.

Taking a deep breath, Paige raises the ball, arching her arms perfect as she shoots it. It barely touches the rim, before falling through the basket with swish. Hitting the floor with a quiet thud, the ball rolls until it’s stopped by someone's foot. Behind her, Paige can hear Jana cheering for the shot but she barely registers it, her entire attention on the new figure who’s just entered the court. It’s a tale as old as time. Azzi Fudd enters the room and suddenly everything else in Paige’s peripheral fades away, until it’s just her and the girl who still manages to steal her breath away.

“Nice shot,” Azzi says, as she takes a slow step towards Paige. The air is thick with tension as if a time capsule has been opened and their past is leaking onto the pages of their present, staining it with marks of the you and me that we used to be. She should say something, even if it’s just an acknowledgement of the compliment but her tongue feels dry and she’s scared that if she opens her mouth, all the things she shouldn’t say will flood out instead.

“Hey Az,” Jana’s eyes flicker awkwardly between her former teammates, “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

“Had to talk to Omehaa about a couple of things,” Azzi says airly, eyes still fixated on Paige, “Jana can we have a minute?”

“You won’t kill each other will you?” Jana asks nervously.

Azzi laughs and even Paige cracks a small smile, “no Jana, we won’t kill each other.”

“Just making sure because last time-” Jana clamps a hand to her mouth as both Paige and Azzi flinch, “because nothing- you guys- you guys talk. I’ll give you guys a minute.”

She scampers away cursing to herself about putting her foot in her mouth and it would be amusing, if not for the fact that Paige can still barely breathe. They haven’t been alone in a room since last time and the air around them hangs heavy with the casings of the grenades they’d hurled at each other.

“I’ve never seen you with braids this early in the year. They used to be your summer braids,” Paige remarks slowly. It’s a mundane change to notice but it’s significant of the larger truth, significant of all the time that’s passed, significant of the fact they don’t know these new versions of each other.

“Yeah um, can’t really do summer braids with the W season,” Azzi chews at her lip.

“Right yeah- yeah that makes sense,” Paige nods. The awkwardness is killing her. She’d never been a fan of the silence, always more comfortable in the chaos but it had been different with Azzi. There had been something peaceful, something calming, about the quiet, when it was just the two of them, hands intertwined, eyes closed, as they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeat.

“Paige-”

“Are you here to tell me not to come to GSV?” Paige blurts out, “because it’s- it’s okay if you are like I get it. I mean- the two of us- it’s just really fucking complicated so I get it- I get it if you don’t want me here.”

“I didn’t,” Azzi admits and it shouldn’t, but Paige feels it sting anyways, “you’re right. You and I- there’s just a lot there and it would- it would be really complicated and when Colleen first told me I- I was gonna go fight Omehaa and be like abso-fucking-lutely not but-” she sucks in a deep breath, “do you remember the promise we made to each other?”

“We made a lot of promises to each other,” Paige says, unable to keep the harshness out of her tone, “sorry I-”

“No you’re right,” Azzi swallows, “but I meant the promise we made when we first started dating. We said we’d never let the personal affect the professional. We promised each other that no matter what, we’d never let our relationship affect us on the court And I know- I know we’ve broken a lot of promises to each other,” they both let out a breath at that, “but I think- I think maybe we should try and keep this one.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you need a championship contender and GSV needs a PG. Paige, I’m not here to convince you to not come to GSV, I’m here to ask you to join our team,” Azzi says resolutely.

Paige isn’t easily shocked by anything really. She’s lived what she’d consider a pretty interesting life but of course if anyone was going to surprise her, it would be Azzi. Azzi, who has always been an exception to every rule.

“You- you want me on your team?” Paige repeats, a little dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Azzi affirms, “you told me once that we could be the best backcourt duo in college basketball and we were, even if it was only for a year, we were and so now I’m telling you that I think we could be the best backcourt duo in the WNBA.”

Paige is silent for a second before a smirk takes over her features, “I think I did a lot more than tell you, pretty sure I had a whole video that proved it.”

“Are you asking me to make you a recruiting video?” Azzi raises an unamused eyebrow.

Paige shrugs, “could be a nice gesture.”

“I have a five year old child, Bueckers. Trust me when I say I don’t have enough spare time for bullshit like that when you can easily just search up our highlights on youtube. Or just look in your trophy case if you’re looking for proof of how good we can be together,” Azzi says, a hint of that familiar sass bleeding into her spiel.

“We really were good together weren’t we,” it spills out before Paige can stop it and it’s like they’re taking two steps back from each other, the friendly-ish banter of mere seconds ago being clouded by a past tainted by their mistakes, “on the court I mean. We were really good on the court.”

“Right,” Azzi averts her gaze, “just- just think about it okay? This doesn’t- it doesn’t have to be about you and me, not like that at least. It’s about basketball. GSV is the perfect fit for you and you’re the perfect fit for us. And deep down you must know that too, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe I’m just in it for the free trip to Cali,” Paige surmises.

Azzi scoffs, “you and I both know you make too much money to need a free trip to Cali. If anything, the hotel they’ve given you is probably cheap for your standards.”

“Maybe I just like feeling important? I always did love people showering me with praise.”

“You always did love the attention,” Azzi grins teasingly, “but there’s one thing you always loved more.”

You, Paige thinks but she can’t say that, “and what’s that?”

“Winning. That’s what this is about. You want another championship, so do we. Come help us and let us help you. It’s that simple.”

As Azzi turns to walk away, Paige can’t help but call out from behind her, “you know I think your daughter’s pitch might have been better.”

There’s a smile playing on Azzi’s lips when she turns her face back a little. It’s a new smile that Paige can only assume is Azzi’s Stephie smile, “yeah? What did she say?”

“She told me she thinks I’d look good in purple,” Paige smirks.

Azzi laughs, and it’s exactly like Paige remembers, “it’s that simple huh?”

“It’s that simple.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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mischievousmoony · 2 days ago

Text

𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛

⟢ james potter x reader (who is skilled at gift wrapping) ⟢ you and james wrap christmas gifts for your kids last minute ⊹ 1.1k ⟢ warnings/tags: no warnings? lmk if i missed anything

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The crisp rustle of wrapping paper tears through the air as you unravel a sheet long enough for a rather larger box.

You and your husband, decked in matching holiday pajamas, are sitting on the dark hardwood floor of your bedroom. Surrounding you are various presents that you’re working tirelessly to wrap late this Christmas Eve.

“Why do we do this every year? Scratch that— why do I let you convince me to do this every year?” you suddenly ask when you get a glimpse of the clock on your nightstand.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asks on an exhale of airy laughter.

“Oh, nothing,” you hum as you measure out how much paper you’ll need. “Just trying to figure out how I let myself marry a chronic procrastinator. And how I let him be such a bad influence on me.”

James falters, dropping the flaps of snowflake-decorated paper he was about to tape down.

“A chronic procrastinator? A bad influence!?”

You press your lips together to hold back a smile. “Keep wrapping. It’s almost three in the morning,” you say as your scissors satisfyingly glide through the wrapping paper.

“No,” James protests, pushing the gift away from him and crossing his arms petulantly. “Not until we address your little comment.”

“See, you’re procrastinating right now by trying to start a debate about whether or not you have a problem,” you tease, your lips involuntarily turning up at the corners.

“It sounds like you want to finish the wrapping by yourself,” he jokes, but you both know he’d never leave you hanging.

“Oh, come on,” you laugh. “If we had it my way the presents would have been wrapped ages ago. They would’ve been wrapped the moment we brought them home.”

“Why would we wrap one present at a time when we could wait and wrap them all at once?”

“Only a chronic procrastinator would ask why we should get ahead on our tasks.”

James knows you’ve got him there, so all he can do is huff. “Stop saying procrastinate it doesn’t sound like a word anymore.”

“Alright, slacker,” you say through a grin.

James rolls his eyes dramatically as he repositions himself from sitting up to lying on his side. “I’m not a slacker,” he says, propping his head up on his elbow, “I just want to be efficient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up as James denies his tendency for putting off his tasks as he gets comfortable in front of a half-wrapped present.

“Yeah, real efficient,” you say as you carefully fold the paper at the corners, creating perfect trapezoids on the sides of the box, which you tape down with a small square of sellotape.

He takes notice of the look you gave him, and provides an excuse. “I’m just taking a break.”

“This is the definition of slacking, by the way. C’mon we’re going to be dead tired tomorrow.”

“We’ll be fine, it’s only 3 a.m.,” James says as if it’s barely midnight. Regardless, he pushes himself back into a seated position and finishes taping down the paper over the box that holds a new toy truck for you son.

“Last Christmas the kids were jumping in our beds by seven,” you say, very matter-of-factly.

“If they’re awake that early I’ll corral them to the kitchen and make a big breakfast with them to give you an extra hour,” he promises as he reaches for a new roll of wrapping paper— a dark green one with cartoon reindeers printed all over.

“You need sleep too.”

James shrugs. “Well, it was my fault we procrastinated wrapping these anyway.”

“Oh? So you admit it now?”

“What can I say? Is it so bad that after we put the kids down and I was all alone with my beautiful wife I’d rather cuddle or catch up on our shows or… other things.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Other things?” you snort.

“Yeah. Wanna do them right now?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“James!” you scold him as a blush heats your face.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll focus.” He reaches for the slowly dwindling pile of presents and picks one that looks easy to wrap. You both prefer to leave the more complicated ones to you, as you always seem to have some unique way to wrap the strangest shapes.

“Not that one!” you stop him. “That one’s from Santa, you have to use the shiny red paper and the golden bows.”

“What? I picked this one,” he says, turning over the box of a new doll for your daughter. “I don’t want to give Santa all the credit!” James pouts.

“And you’ll get it. In about ten years, give or take, when we tell them it was all a lie in the name of Christmas spirit.”

James laughs and takes a look at the clock that reads 3:16 a.m. Santa can have this one, James decides. Even if he did continue to protest, you would probably convince him in the end.

For the next twenty minutes, you two get lost in the rhythm of wrapping. With James handling the simple boxes, and you expertly finishing the oddly shaped ones, folding the paper in ways that obscure the gift’s silhouette while adding an elegant touch.

You know your kids won’t give the wrapping a second thought, and it will all end up torn into bits on the floor, but you just love the way they all look under the tree. So perfectly arranged and beautifully wrapped, it makes Christmas feel all the more special.

As you straighten out a bow made from hand curled ribbons on the top of a dollhouse, pre-assembled for play tomorrow morning, James hisses and drops the paper he’s working with. You look up at him as he brings his finger up to his lips.

“Ow, ow!”

“Y’alright?” you ask.

“I’ve been injured! Wounded! No one told me how hazardous gift wrapping would be!” he wails dramatically, cradling his right hand with his left.

You laugh at the sight of him, gathering that he has probably gotten a paper cut. Shuffling over to him on your knees, you outstretch your hand. “Let me see.”

He puts his hand in yours and you turn it over to inspect his pointer finger. It takes you half a minute to find the small slice in the top layer of skin. It’s nearly impossible to see, and you’re sure the pain has subsided now. Still, you bring his hand to your lips and press a soft kiss over the small cut.

“Better?” you mumble against his skin.

“Almost. I think I have another injury right here.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes to find him tapping his lips, puckered and awaiting a kiss.

You shake your head at his antics but oblige him anyway and connect your lips in a gentle kiss. James’ right hand snakes out of your grip so he can wrap it around your waist to hold you into the kiss for a little longer.

“Come on,” you say as you begin to pull away, “we only have a few more presents between us and those fresh homemade cookies laying out for Santa.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

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pinecipitation · 6 months ago

Note

Pine,,,, smiling friends headcanons, how do you think each of the boys would react to their crush saying they feel safe with them :> if not all of them, your boy Alan and Charlie and Pim (asking for us both im shaking)

SMILING FRIENDS X GN!READER HCS

FIRST OF ALL,,,, HAIIII TEDDYYYY :3 ❤️💛 HELLO WIFE HI LOML…

second of all YESSS SMILING FRIENDS CONTENT WE R SO BACKKK let me get to work ‼️

word count: around 1.2k

authors note: oh my god this was in the works for like a month, I be procrastinating really hard i’m sorry gang 😔🤞 also I’m so sorry alans is so short despite him being my favorite one I’m fighting for my life in here man

CHARLIE: (s1e6)

charlie… is almost relieved to hear it, honestly would immediately flip a switch and do the very most to KEEP you as safe as you can be- but hide it in a playful manner. would carry you for the rest of your life if you asked, just because you inflated his ego.

The two of you are almost halfway in the enchanted forest, you walking in front of Charlie as you hold a little makeshift map in front of the two of you. The whole time Charlie is pointing out little shortcuts, you erasing and drawing paths over and over on the paper until a particularly strong gust of wind blow it away from the two of you, his shocked mouth open and yours would’ve opened if the pencil wasn’t still in your mouth. You didn’t want to say it, but you felt a little aggravated at him for losing your focus like that.

You stop to let him speed up in front of you, the two of you continuing onwards in silence before he speaks.

“Listen… I-“

“It’s fine, you go and I follow. I trust you.”

The minute those words left your mouth, Charlie immediately stops and turns to look at you, the clinks and clanks of his armor making it almost comedic.

“What?”

“…I said you could lead the way?-“

“No,” he shakes his head, the helmet shifting with him, “After that.”

You look at him quizzically, your arms awkward by your side as you look to the side then to him again.

“I trust you?”

What you couldn’t see was Charlie internally squealing like a little girl, happy that someone like you can allow themselves to be so carefree around him. Except you weren’t just someone; he’s unknowingly had a thing for you long enough to where it’s embarrassing that he hasn’t made a move. But, somehow, you telling him that made him understand why he got so nervous around you. Why he always felt let down whenever you had a different mission that day and couldn’t hang with him and Pim. Why he always slightly pulled aside the seat next to him in the office just so you’d sit next to him instead of across.

He finally realized he liked you.

But of course, he’d never say that out loud.

What he did do, however, was immediately grin and flex, his armor audibly showing him move as if he were showing off in a gym mirror.

“Well of course you do, I’d be concerned if you didn’t think a hero like me could protect you. I mean, look at me,” he plays along, successfully earning a chuckle from you before you roll your eyes and shift the bag on your shoulder before you keep moving ahead.

“Alright, hero- hey-!” Your joking manner was cut short as Charlie picks you up, flinging you over his shoulder as his laugh rockets off the trees around the two of you.

Your giggles and pleas to be let down drowned out as he thought about that sentence once more, thinking about what to do to hopefully hearing it again another time.

PIM: (s1e4)

pim….. he’d be so happy, would internally have a little panicked spongebob brain moment but on the outside he’s a stuttering blushing mess. as if he isn’t pink enough.

“Don’t worry, i’ll use this rock to mark the trees- we can find our way back easy!”

Pims words seemed like an echo, his happy go easy personality twenty minutes ago almost feeling like a warning now that the two of you crossed that bridge. The two of you just barely escaped the rain, logs and sticks discarded as the rickety cabin door you called shelter slammed shut.

You were both dripping, Pims cowboy outfit making wet stretching noises every time he stretched his leg or raised his arm. Your outfit was also drenched, a small rip or two from the thorns you pulled away from on the run here.

You were still kneeled over catching your breath as the thunder pursued outside, Pim shakingly clearing his throat before looking up at you with disappointed eyes.

“Listen,… I’m really sorry, I didn’t think it would rain or anything but even then I shouldn’t have taken us across the bridge, and now it’s my fault we’re here-,” he begins, his wet hat now in his hands as he stares down at his cowboy spurs. He only really looked up once he hears you interrupted him with a laugh, a sound he immediately feels his cheeks redden to.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little rain. We’ll be okay- plus, I feel safe with you. I know we’ll make it back fine.”

You were facing down trying to wring the water out of your hair and costume, thinking nothing of it, but to Pim?

To Pim, it meant everything.

He immediately stopped, his eyes widening as he stares at you with his mouth slightly ajar, the redness in his cheeks instantly spreading to his nose and ears. It took two or three tries for him to get his words out, the clothes on him somehow feeling tighter the more he tried to express himself.

“You… you trust me??” The way his meek voice instantly made you straighten up and look at him, the barely there water in his eye almost making you feel guilty for saying it.

Immediately you went to go hold him, your hands wrapping around his back as he listens to you giggle out a ‘Of course! Pim, are you okay?’ and he nods in return. His hands interlock together behind your back, his cheek on your shoulder as he thanks you.

ALAN: (s2e3)

alan… my wife.. would definitely think about asking if you’re SURE. in that case, he’s taken it upon himself to keep his eyes on you like a HAWK, unfortunately intimidating everyone around the two of you.

You seem to feel oddly safe perusing the streets of CrimeVille, thinking back on everyone’s warnings of how dangerous the place was. This is too easy, you think, feeling like everyone was just exaggerating the state of where you two were. What you didn’t realize, however, was Alan shooting everyone the stink eye of the century as he walks behind you.

It wasn’t too long ago when you two left the OfficeCrap, the following conversation unexpected as you both walked out.

“I can do it myself, I don’t want you going to that part of town…” Alan mumbles, the soft mechanic noise of the sliding door behind you helping end his sentence. You only shake your head, shushing him before pronouncing how you’ll be fine, and you trust him to protecting you if anything.

Unbeknownst to you, that’s the only thing Alan’s been thinking about since you left. Fortunately for Alan, being tall and having a somewhat stoic resting facial expression, he was very easy to intimidate anyone looking at you.

He almost walked like your shadow, hands in his pocket as he walks over you like a protective red totem, his blue tie occasionally brushing the top of your head as he looms over everything.

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