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thehighpriestess1 · 1 year

Text

August : 12

Summary : There is more to Gojo than that meets the eyes. Y/n allowed herself to feel loved and tries to keep an open mind.

Pairing : Gojo x y/n

Word count : 10k+

Warning : TW : mention of self harm and sui***e, 18+ only.

Masterlist : Previous

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Picking out clothes with Gojo was not as fun as you had expected. He wanted everything in every color. Everything was too cute to pass on to. His excitement was fair. You had been in a similar place a month ago. This was his time to be a father. You wondered as you watched him look at one overall after another, how excited he would have been if he was there when Keisuke was born. It hurt you that even if you chose to stay there was no photo of Keisuke and Gojo in the hospital. No family photo. In a month Keisuke would be 3 months old, maybe this was the right time to get one. There was still hesitation in your heart about Gojo. But you promised him one month. So for one month you would weaken the barrier just a little. Give Gojo a chance to prove himself. You didn’t know whether you wanted him as your husband though. It was still too soon to decide and there were wounds that would take years to heal. There were many unanswered questions but all of that could wait a month. You were not that oblivious, you could see the tiredness and lack of sleep on his face and you knew your son well enough to know that he does not adjust quickly to new environments. You didn’t bring it up and neither did Gojo which made you wonder that maybe he was a good father or at least meant to be one. But a good father is not always a good husband..right?

You walked over to him and put your arm on his shoulder, “You found anything?”. You asked and looked at the two cashmere sweaters in his hand. Gojo had quite an expensive taste when it came to clothing and it reflected in his choices. In the past two hours he had already bought three matching sets of coats for the three of you to wear. You had never seen this cheesy side of Gojo who wanted to wear matching clothes with his family, who wanted to buy every soft toy that he laid his eyes on. Some toys were even bigger than your son but that didn’t stop him.

“I can’t decide. I want both”. He looked at you helplessly. “Can we please get them both?”. He didn’t have to ask you, you thought. It was his money and he could do whatever he wanted but your heart melted a little every time he did.

You chuckled. “Fine. We can”. Gojo smiled widely and asked the sales associate to pack them both. You had lost count of how many clothes you had bought so far as all the shopping bags were sent straight to the car. Gojo was frivolous when it came to shopping but he was not careless. Each item of clothing was carefully examined. He had gotten a list of fabrics from the daddy and me blog that were best suitable for newborns and he would match the composition with that list. If there was even one material that wasn’t in the list, that item was discarded. Gojo had a whole document about color theory and avoided clothes that might induce anxiety in a two month old. You thought it was all a bit too much but Gojo was a bit too much.

Of course you didn’t miss the heart eyes of every female associate that you came across. It didn’t bother you, Gojo was an attractive man. His frame stood out amongst the common people, with towering height and muscular frame he became the center of attraction wherever he went and at this point you were used to it. But today he looked especially handsome. He was clad in all black with black trenchcoat. His snowy white hair swayed with every head turn, his skin glowed with every curve of his smile and his lips had never looked this plump. You shook your head before you could get any further with your imagination. Of course it wasn’t a crime to admire your husband, the father of your child but you were hesitant to admit your attraction.

“What else do we have on the list?”. You asked, looking at Gojo. Somehow between making breakfast and taking care of Keisuke while you got ready, Gojo had made an elaborate list of things he needed to buy. You had painstakingly reminded him Keisuke did not need a mini car at

this age. He could barely sit on his own.

“Before that..”. Gojo trailed off and one of the men brought the same green juice you had this morning in a glass bottle. “..you need this”

You took the bottle in your hand and gave a confused look. “What is this?”.

“It’s good for your anemia. I spoke to Shoko and she suggested this”.

“But..I had it this morning”. You reminded him.

Gojo nodded. “But we have been shopping for the past two hours so drink a little so you don’t get tired”.

You stared at the bottle in your hand and then back at Gojo. He was serious. He was serious about this.You had no defense for this. You were tired and felt a little dizzy. You opened the metal cap and took a sip. It didn’t taste bad but it wasn't something you could drink all day.

"I'm fine Gojo". You rolled your eyes..

"If you say so..Gojo". Gojo smiled and intertwined your hand.

Your breath hitched the moment his fingers locked in with yours. It was so easy. So easy for him to hold your hand like he was the only one who could reach through the walls around you whenever he wanted to. Like the barrier you spent a year building around yourself did not exist for him.

But the reality was different. Much different. Gojo had been debating on reaching out for you the moment the two of you sat in the car. The fleeting touches on shoulder and arm were not enough for him. He had been itching to hold your hand. Sneaking glances between the two of you. He tried multiple times but you turned away to look at a onesie or a chair. Even now, he looked calm on the surface but on the inside he was going insane. He looked like he was staring into a distance but on the inside he was admiring the feeling of your hand in his. He had waited a year for this and now it felt worth all the pain. Your hand felt warm in his, he gave it a light squeeze and when you didn't pull away his knees almost gave up. He didn't want to let it go ever. He looked away from you to hide the red coating his cheeks. He bit his lip to control the smile on his face. He cleared his throat to stop his words from quivering. His body didn’ feel like his own anymore. Blood rushed to his head making him a little dizzy and his heart was thumping loudly. He wanted more..much more but for now he was content with your hand in his.

"We should..umm". You spoke first to diffuse the tension. "...see the crib".

"Right!". Gojo spoke almost immediately and turned towards the store that sold handcrafted cribs. Neither of you spoke on the way to the store. While you were debating your attraction to him, Gojo was going crazy over every single thing, the smell of your perfume, that one loose strand of hair falling across your cheeks, your lips, your eyes..everything was driving him insane. He smiled to himself, just a week ago he lived in a world without you, a colorless and painfull world, and now you were here. Even if you don’t let him near you, even if he has to live with holding just your hand for the rest of his life, he would live happily.

You walked between rows of exquisite cribs. It was hard to decide on one. You looked at the price tags and before you could even count the zeroes Gojo was already onto the next one.

“This one is made from ebony and is lined with fine silk curtains. It comes with a built-in baby monitor. All handcrafted with gold inlay and one of the ten pieces available worldwide”. The associate beamned proudly.

You chewed your bottom lip and looked at the crib. It was beautiful and sturdy but something felt off.

“Do you like it?”. Gojo asked. He could read your face and knew that you were doubtful about this one.

“I don’t know. It’s beautiful but I can’t imagine Keisuke in this”. You looked up at him.

Gojo smiled. “Me neither. Let’s look at some more”.

You nodded and followed him.

The associate guided you towards another and then another but for some reason none of them seemed like the right one. You felt guilty about turning down and you could see the disappointment in the associate’s face each time you turned down a crib.

"This would be perfect for your baby. It's handmade in Italy and comes in with a built-in temperature sensor. It has a hidden camera in all four corners and the surface is coated with white gold to give a calming appearance".

You looked at the crib, it was similar to the one you had in the village except that one was not coated with gold. You walked towards it and kept your hand on the railing, it felt strong and sturdy.

The associate smiled and stood on the other side. "It also comes with a fine Muslin curtains on the inside for night time and it can withstand a total of 120 kg"

Gojo didn't pay attention to the associate. He stood next to you and kept his hand on yours over the railing. "Do you like it?". He asked, looking at you. He didn't care how fancy or hi-tech the crib was. Your opinion is all that mattered to him..as for security Gojo knew that he can take care of it.

You smiled and looked up at him. "I like this one. What about you?".

"I like it too". He smiled back and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

The sales associate visibly relaxed. "Then should we finalize this?".

Gojo nodded. "Yes".

The car ride home was tiring. It was almost lunch time and you were getting drowsy. Unlike before, You and Gojo sat in the middle, holding hands. Gojo wasn’t doing any better. After the tiring night and busy morning, all he wanted to do now was hold you and sleep. He loved Keisuke, he truly did but at times like this he wished that he could have gotten more time with you. Just you and him.

“Y/n..”. Gojo whispered.

“Yes?”. You turned towards him.

“Should we…”. He hesitated.“…..Nevermind”. He turned away.

“Satoru..what is it?”. You tried to read his face to understand what he wanted to say. After everything that he has done, why would he hesitate now?

“Should we..I mean..Can we get a nanny for Keisuke?”. Gojo bit the inside of his cheeks.

You nodded your head and averted your gaze. “I can take care of him on my own. I know it’s a lot but you don’t have to help if you don’t want to”. You said, looking out now.

Gojo immediately realized his mistake. He turned completely towards you and took both of your hands in his’. “No love. I didn’t mean it like that”.

You looked down at his hands and then up at him. “What did you mean then?”.

“I meant... A lot has happened y/n and I want us to spend some time together. I want to know everything that’s going on in your head other than Keisuke. I want to know about so many things”. Gojo gave your hand a light squeeze.

You didn't expect this. What was he up to now? You gave him a short smile. “You can ask me whatever you want to know about”.

Gojo smiled and shook his head. At times it was adorable how clueless you could get. “I mean..I want to take you out to dinner and spend some time with you”.

Your heart skipped a beat, you didn’t know what to say. “I..I don’t think we need to spend any time together. After all, we are only together because of Keisuke right?”.

Gojo stayed silent for a few seconds and then he smiled. “No. I told you that I want both you and Keisuke in my life. You mean more to me than just the mother of my child. You are my love y/n and I don’t want you to forget that..ever”. Your words had left an ache in his chest but he didn’t care.

You pressed your lips together and looked down. “I..I’ll need time to think about it”.

“Take your time. I am not going anywhere”. Gojo smiled and sat back with a sad smile.

You turned away to look outside. You couldn’t face him. He sat back and faced the other side. He knew he deserved all your hatred but it still hurt so much. The pain spread from his chest to his arms and legs. His whole body felt numb. He looked at a couple walking outside and thought to himself, if only he had not left you ever, if only he would have shown up that night in the park, if only he would have stayed back that day, then maybe it could have been you and him. If the gods were to come down to ask him for all his wealth and power in return for a happy life with you, he would take it in a heartbeat.

-X-

“Where is Satoru?!”. Yuri demanded as she stormed into the private wing of the mansion.

“He has gone out”. Jerry replied and stood sternly in front of her, preventing her from proceeding any further.

Yuri scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. “I need to get a file from his room”.

“I am sorry but no one is allowed beyond this point”. Jerry smiled. It was true. No one other than Jerry and few other maids were allowed beyond the lobby in your and Gojo’s absence.

“I am not just another person around the house Jerry. I am his family”. Yuri tried to reason.

Jerry gave a polite smile. It was not in his nature to be crass to people in the house and neither did he think he had ever hated anyone. But he hated Yuri with every fiber of his being. He was a gentleman, trained to be ready for every situation but somehow Yuri managed to find a way to get on his nerves. He wanted to remind her of her place and tell her that if she had really been his family then she would have the Gojo name but he didn’t say any of the witty insults. Instead he preferred to do it his way. “Mr.Gojo and...Mrs.Gojo would be back shortly, you can visit him then”. He gave another polite smile.

Yuri scoffed.“Jerry..do I need to remind you that until two days ago you were obeying me? Do I need to remind you what happens to those who disobey me?”. Yuri stepped closer to Jerry and pouted mockingly. “Only I can order you-”.

“What’s happening here?” Gojo’s voice rang in the hallway.

Yuri immediately stepped back and had her good girl mask back on. She turned around, smiling with doe eyes to see Gojo walked towards them. Her smile faltered a little when she saw you walking next to him. She wondered how can someone look so sad and angry all the time when they have a man like Gojo next to them?

You let go of Gojo’s hand the moment Yuri turned around but Gojo grabbed it again and held it tighter this time. Gojo didn’t understand why you let go and thought your hand must have slipped because he wasn’t holding it tight enough. Afterall underneath all this he was indeed a simple man who just wanted to hold hands with his wife. He didn’t see things for what they were.

“I just wanted to get the file I gave..y/n last night”. Yuri spoke and looked at you with feigned politeness. She looked in between the two of you and saw the way Gojo had intertwined his hands with yours. Were you that possessive that you had to hold his hand all the time? Or were you jealous of her? Either way, holding hands meant nothing to her.

“It’s in my office. You can take it from there”.

“I need to talk to you Satoru”. Yuri stepped towards Gojo and looked up at him through her lashes.

You bit your lip in frustration. This was annoying. She was annoying. You hated her but you hated Gojo for letting her into his life. Was this your replacement? Just the thought that Gojo relied on someone while you were alone made your blood boil and skin crawl.

Yuri stepped closer to Gojo and fiddled with the buttons of his coat and now there was hardly any distance between them. Gojo frowned and stepped back but she was quick enough to grab his free hand. She pouted, “I didn’t know that and Jerry said that I was not allowed to go to your room..anymore”. She said the last words looking at you through the corner of her eye and smirked a little when she saw your jaw tense.

You yanked your hand away and stormed ahead without waiting for Gojo. You didn’t care how it made you look. You just wanted to be away from her. Your head was spinning and it felt like the air was sucked out of the room.

Gojo was surprised by your reaction. It happened suddenly. One moment Yuri was in front of him and the next you had waked out. Did he do something? Were you mad at him?Was this about the nanny ?He ignored everyone around him and ran after you.

“Y/n! Wait!”. He called out but you didn’t stop walking.

Gojo jogged ahead and stood in front of you. He dismissed everyone around and looked down at you. You didn’t look up. Gojo cupped your face with both of his hands and titled it upwards. “What happened?”. Gojo was panicking on the inside. The last thing he wanted to do now was hurt you more than he already had.

You gritted your teeth. Did he really not know or was he playing dumb? You yanked his hand away, “Nothing”, you said sternly and walked away but Gojo followed you around.

“Are you mad at me?”. Gojo asked with a frown on his face.

You stayed silent and turned around the corner to enter the bedroom.

“Y/n look at me!”. He pleaded.

You stayed silent and made your way to the bed where Keisuke was sleeping peacefully surrounded by his toys. The help in charge of looking after him bowed and took her leave leaving only you and Gojo in the room. You walked to the closet and Gojo followed you. “Is this about the nanny?”.

“No”. You took your coat off and tossed it on a bench. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves but nothing helped.

“What did I do?”. Gojo asked as he took his coat off too.

“Nothing”. You said and walked out with Gojo still following you around.

Keisuke was sleeping peacefully in the center of the bed, surrounded by pillows. You tucked the sides of the blanket. You caressed his cheeks softly and kissed his forehead.

Gojo couldn’t focus on anything. He felt like he was having another panic attack. He was growing restless. Why won’t you look at him? Why were you running away from him? What did he do? Were you going to leave him again?

“Are you mad at me?”. He pleaded quietly.

“Satoru, I am not mad at you”. You spoke softly and stood up to make your way to the bathroom.

Gojo followed you, “Yes you are. Did I do something? I..I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you. If it's about the nanny then we don't have to get one”. Gojo frowned. His heart was beating rapidly. The sudden shift in your behavior worried him. Was it because he held your hand? Did he do too much or did he not do enough? He didn’t know. All he knew was that something happened and now you were upset. He stood behind you and looked at you through the mirror.

“Please…just..talk to me”.

You looked at his reflection in the mirror and your breath hitched when you saw the faint tears lining his lash line. Was he..was he crying? You were upset but you didn’t mean to hurt him.

“Please…tell me what happened”. Gojo took a step towards you and now stood directly behind you. You could feel his coat brushing against the back of your arms.

Your gaze softened as you witnessed his fragility and it shook your walls. Maybe he wasn’t the big bad wolf you thought him to be.

“Don’t run away from me”. Gojo spoke with his eyes closed. “Yell at me or hit me, I don’t care but...never run away from me”. His voice quivered. His hands were trembling by your side. He was scared.

You were so angry that you wanted to cry. You were angry at yourself for feeling this way. If you didn’t love him then you shouldn’t be feeling this. If he loved you then how could he let another woman get near him? Did she mean more than you did? Why did you care about it so much? It was all too frustrating. You turned towards him but refused to look up at him. The distance or the lack of it, made your heart race and your thoughts made your head spin.

Gojo looked down at you. He knew you. He knew that when you were upset you refused to look at anyone. He knew that he had hurt you somehow. He kneeled in front of you and held both of your hands.

You heat shot up and saw his teary eyes staring at you. “Satoru..”. You said bleakly.

“What happened? What did I do?”. Gojo whispered.

You took a deep breath. “I don’t want..”. You sighed. “I don’t know what your relationship is with Yuri but I don’t want her to be anywhere near me or Keisuke”.

Gojo frowned. Why were you talking about Yuri now? Did she do something? Did she say something? You and Keisuke? “There is no you and Keisuke…”. Gojo said, eyes scanning every inch of your face.

You frowned.”What-”

“It’s us. You, me and Keisuke. Don’t..separate me…not yet at least”. Gojo cupped your cheeks. “I promise you, she will never come near us ever again”.

Your heart skipped a beat. You could see that he meant every word he said.In that moment you felt the love seep through the cracks of the wall you spent a year building. You smiled and nodded your head.

“Let’s go and wake up our baby now”. Gojo smiled sadly.

You followed him out but deep inside you felt guilty for telling him what to do when you weren’t even sure if you’ll be with him in a few weeks.

You nudged him to sit on the bed. He didn’t let go of your hand but leaned down to press a kiss on Keisuke’s cheeks. His cheeks jiggled when Gojo pulled away,making you chuckle. “How can someone be this adorable”. Gojo whispered.

You shrugged. “You know..”. You said looking at Keisuke. “I was so mad when he was born because he looked so much like you”.

Gojo chuckled. “He does!. Doesn’t he? I didn’t want to brag about it but now I can”.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “I just hope he doesn’t get your personality”.

“What’s wrong with it?”. Gojo pouted.

“I can only deal with one clingy child!”. You laughed.

Gojo smiled. “Y/n….”

“Yeah?”.

Gojo bit the inside of his cheeks,”About Yuri…. She means nothing. If you don’t want her around then she won’t be around”.

You smiled. It did feel better to know that even if you got together a day ago Gojo still prioritized your happiness and wants. “Thank You”. You gave his hand a squeeze.

Gojo pouted. “You insult me by saying that. So don’t do that”.

You giggled and shook your head. Keisuke cooed in his sleep and slowly opened his eyes. “Look who’s up! My baby woke up! You missed me?!”. Your eyes widened and you spoke in your baby voice.

He looked at you with all the love in his eyes. You were smiling gently, a strand of your hair fell softly across your cheek but you didn’t notice it. Your gaze fixed on your baby. Gojo could feel his heart turn into a jelly. He could just stare at you being you all day. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn’t want to lose you. He would rather die in this moment than see you walk away from him. His life wasn’t his anymore, it was yours. His love was yours. His happiness was yours.

Yuri stood there for the longest time,paralyzed,frozen in the moment, stunned, everyone left one by one. Gojo didn’t bother stopping for a second to talk to her. She had never been treated like this before. Ever. It hurt her heart but it hurt her pride more. The look on your face was ingrained in her mind. She turned around to ask for someone but everyone had left. She sighed and made her way to Gojo’s office to take the file she needed. She smirked thinking how Gojo was playing the part of a doting husband but a Tiger never loses its stripes. Soon he would be bored of the redundant domestic life and would be back to his old self. But you, you had to be dealt with as soon as possible and Yuri knew just what to do.

-X-

You stood next to Gojo and watched the men set up the crib right next to your side of the bed. Both of you were unsure about letting Keisuke sleep alone in another room. There were many reasons behind your hesitation, safety, attachment but above all you weren’t sure if you could stay in the room with Gojo all alone.

Though Gojo didn’t share your third problem he shared the first two. By now he was used to Keisuke’s sleep cycle and surprisingly woke up seconds before he did and rocked him back to sleep. He didn’t mind doing this at all. In fact he was proud of it. Everytime Keisuke fell asleep on his shoulder his heart healed a little. The little drool droplet staining his t-shirt reminded him that he was a father now. Gojo had spent countless sleepless nights the past year but these were the best kind. The kind that he wanted. He had learnt a lot in the past few days, like Keisuke needed Mr.Carrot everytime he was being fed. He did not like being held in his left arm. He loved playing with your locket or your hair. He liked his blue sock more than his red sock and his favorite jumper was the one that you had knitted for him.

There were things that he picked up about you too. Somehow you could differentiate between a hungry cry and an irritated cry. You were still shy while feeding him, which Gojo didn’t understand. You always get tired after feeding him and at that time it’s best to let you sleep for a while. You had to take your medication twice a day at 11AM and 7PM. You bit your lower lip and rolled your eyes everytime he played with Keisuke. Your favorite word to call Keisuke was “munchkin” and Gojo knew, with all his heart, that you liked holding his hand even if you’d never initiate it. He looked over to you and then intertwined his left hand with yours. He could see the corner of your lips curl up and smiled to himself.

“It’s done sir”. The manager that came along spoke with a wide smile.

Both you and Gojo walked over and inspected the newly built crib. It was sturdy and comfortable. You connected your phone to the built-in camera and were quite satisfied with the security system. While Gojo thanked the men, you stared at the crib and couldn’t help but think about the empty one sitting in your old apartment. Amidst all this you had forgotten about that.

“Everything okay?”. Gojo asked as he walked over to you.

You nodded your head but your eyes were fixed on the crib.

“If you don’t like it we can get another one”. Gojo said. Your face was hard to read at times like this. It scared him.

You shook your head and smiled at him. “It’s nice. Bit too big for him but it’s perfect”.

Gojo smiled hesitantly. “It’s big enough for the two of you”.

You chuckled. “For now let’s see if he likes it”.

Gojo tried to put Keisuke down in the crib but Keisuke gripped his hair making Gojo wince a little. You walked over and tried to take Keisuke out of his hand but he wouldn’t let go of Gojo’s hair.

“Let Satoru go, baby”. You took Keisuke in your arms but he refused to let go of Gojo’s hair so now Gojo stood next to you with his head bowed down as Keisuke giggled. “This tiny devil. Where does he get his strength from?”. You muttered as you tried to open his fist wrapped around Gojo’s hair.

Gojo chuckled as he winced. He was having just as much fun with this as Keisuke.

“Stop laughing Satoru!”. You warned but couldn’t control your own laughter as the father son duo bursted out laughing harder. “Stop! What do I do with the two of you?!”. You groaned but they started laughing harder. It was annoying knowing that even though you were stronger than Keisuke, he was a baby and no matter how hard you try you could never show the full extent of your strength. You wondered how Gojo found this amusing given that he was now bent down to your height and you were sure his back hurt.

Gojo’s neck hurt but Keisuke’s giggled mixed with your annoyed laugh was worth the pain. He stepped forward to make it easier for you to hold Keisuke and untangle his hand, unintentionally caging you between his body and the crib. His hands rested on the railing on either side and Keisuke was only pulling him closer. His heart was beating out of his chest. He was so close to you. He felt like a teenage boy being in close proximity to his crush.

Keisuke let go of his hair when you tickled him. Gojo stood up straight with a heavy sigh and your mouth hung open when you saw his flushed face.

“Oh no”. You frowned. “Did it hurt a lot?”. You said and started rubbing the spot behind his ear where Keisuke had his death grip. “Ahh it must have hurt”.

“I’m fine, y/n”. Gojo smiled and bent down with his hands still by your side and smiled at you. “I am perfectly fine”. He smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You bit your lip and turned around to face the crib and gently put Keisuke inside. Gojo pulled out his polaroid camera from the bedside drawer and stood next to you. He focused the camera on Keisuke and clicked his photo. “His first time in his new crib”.

Gojo had been taking pictures of you and Keisuke ever since your first day. You didn’t mind him doing that. It made him happy. You bit your lip nervously contemplating your intentions. But looking at Gojo smiling widely at the photo and then crouching down to show Keisuke his photo made all your doubts disappear.

“Satoru..”. You spoke and rested your hand on the railing.

“Yes?”. Gojo looked up at you and then stood up.

“Do you..”. You bit the inside of your cheek. “Do you want to see ..ummm..photos?”.

Gojo stared blankly at you. “Which photos?”.

“Mine and Keisuke’s..I mean when I was..you know..carrying him?”.

Gojo’s silence made you question everything you just said. But then he smiled, “Yes! Yes I do! Can we see them now?! Please”. Gojo couldn’t believe it. This was a win for him. You were letting him in your life. Heck yeah he wanted to see the photos!

You chuckled. “Didn’t you have that meeting?”. You remembered Jerry reminding Gojo about a seemingly important meeting he had in the afternoon.

“It can wait!”. Gojo was getting too excited. You chuckled, he was already ready to head out for the meeting as soon as the crib was finished. Now his light blue shirt had a tiny dark blue spit stain on the right shoulder. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair disheveled. He looked more like he was returning from the meeting than heading to one.

“Alright, I’ll get the album”. You shook your head and turned to walk to the closet where you had kept the bag. You were still hesitant about using the clothes he had bought for you and relied on the ones you bought at the mall. It upset Gojo a little but he gave you your space and time.

“There is a whole album?!”. Gojo exclaimed as he followed you.

“Satoru calm down! Sit with Keisuke and I will get it”. You spoke without looking back but you knew Gojo stopped and sat on the bed obediently.

When you walked out with the tiny baby blue album you saw Gojo sitting on the bed with his back resting against the soft backrest and his legs crossed in front, he had a small pout on his face but what made him even more adorable was the fact that he was playing with Mr.Giraffe.

You crawled on your side of the bed and sat next to him. “Ready?”? You asked, keeping the album on your lap.

“Yes!”. Gojo spoke excitedly.

You opened the album and the first photo was of your ultrasound. Gojo slid down and rested his head on your shoulder. You realized that this was the closest you had been with him but you didn’t move him.

Gojo touched the photo and saw a glimpse of you in that room, looking at the screen. He could almost imagine himself to be sitting by your side, seeing your baby for the first time. “He looks like a bean”.

“Yeah he does”. You smiled.

“But I can already tell that he is as handsome as his father”. Gojo said smugly. It was something he would have said had he been there at the moment.

You chuckled and slipped the page. The next photo was of you in front of the mirror with the hem of your tank top lifted up to reveal the almost there baby bump. “This was in three months..almost three months”.

Gojo hummed. You looked beautiful. Tired. Exhausted but beautiful. He could see your eyebags but he could also see your beautiful smile. “You look tired here. Why?”. He asked, staring at the photo.

“I had trouble sleeping those days”. You flipped the page.

Gojo didn’t need to ask why you had trouble sleeping. He knew. He knew very well.

You chuckled looking at the next photo. “Mrs.Itadori insisted that I have a maternity photoshoot. It was so awkward”. You smiled looking at the photos of you taken in the backyard with blue balloons and blue cake.

Gojo smiled. It was adorable. He wished he was there standing behind you. His eyes welled up thinking that no matter how much he tried he could never be there. It was all in the past. He cannot go back in time and sit by your bed when you had the ultrasound, or feel the first kick, or deal with your cravings and morning sickness. He was never going to be there. As you flipped through the pages your belly grew and so did your smile. Gojo’s heart felt lighter knowing that you were happy. Some photos were taken candidly when you were working at the snack bar and others were taken against the light yellow wall of your living room.

As you showed him the last photo of you holding Keisuke in your arms in the hospital, Gojo felt like he was witnessing it firsthand. He felt like he was the one standing behind the camera. But he knew that at that time, in that instant he was far away from you. He stared at the photo blanky and felt guilty, guilty for not being there to hold your hand, guilty for not being there to wipe the sweat off your face, guilty for not sitting by your side and listening to every curse word you threw at him.

You could sense his body tensing at each photo and you wondered if you had done the right thing. But sooner or later you had to show him these.

"Are you okay?". You asked, looking sideways.

Gojo rested his chin on your shoulder and smiled widely. "You are a beautiful mother".

"Don't you have a meeting to go to?". You asked.

Gojo held your eye contact and smirked. "I don't want to go".

"Satoru..you should go". You spoke softly.

Gojo held your hand instead and pouted. It made you smile how similar this needy face was to the one in the crib. "Please don't make me go".

"The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back". You raised an eyebrow and hoped that your reason falls on the smarter part of his brain.

"But if I don't go at all then-".

"Satoru!".

Gojo groaned and got out of the bed. He leaned over the crib and smiled at Keisuke. "Your mom is a meanie". He scrunched his nose and turned to walk towards the door where his coat hung neatly on the stand.

You scoffed. "Ouch. Are you taking it to him now?". Your gaze followed him as he walked over to the stand.

"Someone should listen to me". Gojo winked as he put on the coat.

"Have a good time".

Gojo chuckled and walked out of the bedroom.

You sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over the crib. "I'm not a meanie".

Keisuke blew a raspberry and you got your answer. He was your adorable munchkin but he was Gojo's little devil.

-X-

Gojo walked through the marble hallway, adjusting his Gojo clan cufflinks. Everyone moved out of his way and he didn't notice how many doors opened for him. You were right, the sooner he is done with this the sooner he will get to go back to you. But every second away from you seemed like a wasted time. His heart was hardly at peace. He was also excited. Excited to finally sleep next to you. Maybe you'll let him hold you. He blushed slightly thinking about waking up tomorrow with you in his arms. Men stiffened when he walked past not knowing that once called as the ice Prince was now gushing on the inside.

He walked into his chamber. It was different from his formal office. It was made entirely out of white marble with black carpet covering every inch of the flood. Gojo's trusted men stood on either side of the room. These men were the ones who handled various aspects of his clan business. Some managed exports. Some managed casinos. Some managed real estate. They all reported to him twice a week.

Today was going to be a long day. Gojo had to take care of many things which included administering justice over those who hurt his business. He walked over to his chair or as others referred to as his throne and sat down. His men sat in their respective chairs lined on either side of his'.

"Start". Gojo said. His face, devoid of any expression or emotions.

"Sir". One of the men stood up and bowed down to him. "I will be sending my men to vacate the village for our new factory. It will be done by this weekend but I need more manpower".

Gojo started at the man. "Leave it. We don't need to make that factory anymore".

"But sir we had promised Mr.Ian the partnership. He had invested 120 million and now he is asking about the work".

Gojo knew it was the same village where he had met you. If he goes ahead with the plan then it would crush your heart but moreover it would be unfair to people who take care of you. He wanted to thank them the best way possible and maybe this was his chance to do so.

Gojo's gaze sent a chill down the man's spine. "Pay him double and tell him that I changed my mind. If he creates any more problems then set up a meeting with me".

The man smiled politely and bowed down. "Yes, Sir".

"Next". Gojo said, taking a sip of his tea.

Yuta stood up and bowed down. But before he could speak the doors opened. Everyone turned towards the door and shifted slightly in their seats as Yuri walked in wearing a form fitting red dress with a slit so high that it almost reached her waist. The sweetheart neckline plunged deep enough that left little to imagination. Her heels clicked on the floor as she smiled sweetly looking at the only man she wore the dress for.

"Hello, Satoru". He spoke softly as she bent down to kiss his ring.

Gojo gulped harshly. He felt irritated in her presence. He felt like the closer she was to him the farther you'd go away from him and he didn't want that. "What are you doing here?". He asked coldly.

Yuri's smile faltered. Gojo was never cold to her. Not this cold anyway..

"I came to attend the meeting". Yuri smiled.

"You are not required here".

"Oh come on Satoru. Only because I am a little late that doesn't mean-".

Before Yuri could finish what she was saying, Gojo stood up, making her take a few steps back. All the men stood up immediately.

"Get out now!". Gojo warned. "Let me make it clear to everyone". Gojo spoke, looking straight at Yuri but his message was for everyone. "Yuri… is not allowed on this estate anymore. Her work is limited to the office. Am I clear?".

Yuri scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. "Is this because of her? God I can't believe she could be so jealous! Did you forget that I was there with you when you thought that she was dead! God! That fucking bi-"

Yuri's words died down in her throat as her eyes focused on the gun pointed at her. "I dare you to finish that sentence". Gojo had a devilish grin on his face. His insanity reflecting in his eyes. He didn't care. He was insane, he knew that. He knew that he would pull the trigger without a second thought if Yuri, or anyone dared insult you.

Tears rolled down Yuri's cheeks. This was insulting…heartbreaking. "Sa..Satoru".

"I asked, am I clear?!". Gojo yelled, loud enough for the security outside to hear.

The guards immediately marched in and stood around her.

"Escort Ms.Yuri out and make sure she doesn't step foot in this estate again!".

Yuri watched in horror as the guard stood between her and Gojo. She turned around without any resistance but held her head high as she walked out.

Gojo sat down and gulped down the glass of water kept on the table. He couldn't believe Yuri would do something like this when he had told her not to show up at the estate under any circumstances. She defied his orders and risked his marriage. What if you would have seen her here, dressed like that? Behaving like that? Gojo couldn't risk it. He immediately picked up his phone and opened the app which showed the video from his bedroom. He was glad he had gotten cameras installed in the bedroom the day the two of you went out. He smiled gently when he saw that you were playing with Keisuke. You were fine. There was no way you could have seen her.

He calmed himself down and took another sip of his tea.

"Where were we?". He asked looking at Yuta and continued the work.

The meeting was going on for longer than he had thought. He was tired and exhausted. His head was hurting listening to his men argue over some petty thing. He knew that sometimes it was necessary to let men fight. But he was getting sick of the same he said-she said.

"Enough!". He yelled. The men stopped arguing and shared a look of fear. "Now you..". Gojo pointed to the man on his right. "Pay him back the money you borrowed!".

The man stepped forward with tears in his eyes and bowed down. "I can't. I need more time".

Gojo leaned back. "You promised him money in six weeks so you will pay him back".

"I can't. Sir, my wife just gave birth and both my daughter and wife are admitted in hospital. I need money for their bills. Just 6 more weeks and I promise I will pay him back".

Gojo contemplated for a while. “I will pay him back on your behalf and you have 6 months to pay me back”. Gojo said calmly.

The man had tears in his eyes and bowed down to thank him. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”.

Gojo smiled warmly. This was the last meeting of the day. He checked his watch, it was already 10 PM. He got up and dismissed everyone. He was tired and could feel his body giving up. He needed sleep.

-X-

Groggily he made his way to his..your bedroom. He struggled to keep his eyes open and mind focused. All the work that he had kept aside for the past weeks hit him like a tidal wave. Even in the state of tiredness he still remembered the album you showed him. He smiled to himself. He didn’t tell you but a part of him broke at the thought of not being there when his son was born. Regardless, he had time now. Time to heal your wounds and save his life.

He entered the dim room and squinted his eyes to see clearly. Were you asleep already? He sighed and slowly made his way into the room.

“Satoru?”.

His head turned in the direction of your voice and saw you slowly get up from the bed. “Hey”.

You got off from the bed and made your way to where he was standing.

“It’s alright. Please go back to sleep”. Gojo whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you up”.

You chuckled as you subbed your eye. “It’s alright. I just put Keisuke to sleep”. You looked up and saw the pair of tired eyes looking down at you. “You look tired, Rough day?”.

Gojo nodded, he held your hand and shook then gently. “Rough day”.

“Did you eat dinner?”.

Gojo pondered over your words and then shook his head. “Too tired”.

You sighed. On one hand you knew it was not right for him to skip dinner and on the other hand you could sense his body swaying and struggling to stand up. “Should I make something for you?”.

Gojo shook his head again.

“Do you want to wash up first?”.

Gojo shook his head again.

You smiled to yourself. “Fine, let’s sleep then”.

Gojo followed you back to bed but instead of getting on his side he made his way to the crib. “Did you guys have a good day?”. He asked before leaning down to press a kiss on Keisuke’s head.

“Your son got into a fight with Mr.Giraffe”. You smiled and watched as Gojo walked over and got on his side of the bed. “You’re not going to change?”.

Gojo shook his head as he removed his cufflinks and belt and kept it on his bedside table. Maybe it was the tiredness or maybe it was the raw need to feel you close to him after a day like this but as soon as Gojo got inside the blankets he did not hesitate to pull you closer to him. HIs one hand draped over your waist and the other rested snugly under your head.

You were shocked…surprised…scared…happy. Your mind went from adjusting to the proximity to how big his biceps felt. You were engulfed by his expensive cologne and you were sure you’d smell the same by morning and for some reason it made you happy. Hesitantly you put your arm over him and relaxed into the embrace.

“So tell me, what did Mr.Giraffe do?”. Gojo asked as he rubbed slow circles on your back.

You chuckled and looked at him. “How do you know it was Mr.Giraffe at fault?”.

“My son..our son..at fault? No chance”. Gojo smiled.

“You are going to spoil him, you know that right?”. You corked an eyebrow and whispered in the space between you two.

“I know”.

“Go to sleep Satoru”.

Gojo hummed. He was tired but he didn’t want this moment to end. He had never felt more alive. He had you in his arms. After years that felt like ages. He could feel the softness of your body, your curves, he could smell the sweet mixture of shampoo and bodywash, he could feel the softness of your hair, he could feel you breathing in his arms. He knew that things could take a turn for worse at any moment and he wanted to preserve every second of his moment.

“Satoru?”. You called out again and Gojo snapped out of his thoughts.

“I don’t want to sleep just yet. Keep talking to me..please”.

You smiled and began narrating your boring day to him. He listened intently about Keisuke’s fight with a stuffed giraffe and how he threw a fit when you bathed him and that’s how you got baby shampoo in your eyes. He listened to you rant about how Keisuke refused to wear the yellow onesie and only agreed to wear the red one. He smiled at your frustration with your son and your concern that Gojo's behavior was rubbing off on him. Somewhere between the evening walk in the park and dinner you fell asleep.

Gojo smiled, he didn’t wake you up. He caressed your cheek softly and pressed a featherlight kiss on your cheek. “I love you..so much”. He whispered and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.He watched you breathe softly in his arms, to him you were the embodiment of purity and innocence. A ray of hope in his dark life. He thought how twisted his fate was, but maybe the gods were testing him. Maybe they wanted him to be a better man to deserve an angel like you. But he knew that even if never became the man the gods wanted him to be, he would still fight for you. The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was how you clutched his shirt in your sleep. He fell asleep with a smile on his face thinking how both you and Keisuke had this one trait in common.

When you opened your eyes the next morning you realized how tightly Gojo held on to you in his sleep. His shirt crumpled, hair disheveled, mouth agape, soft breaths. You tried to lift his arm but he only pulled you closer. He didn't seem awake at all and yet he didn't want to let you go. You relaxed into his embrace and watched the way his hands wrapped around your waist. You gently ran your finger over his pink and scarred knuckles. Your heart sank thinking how the hands that hold you so delicately and firmly are the same hands that have taken a life. Life of your friend…your mind went back to Hiro. It was still unclear what happened to him. Gojo denied killing him but he didn't give any further explanation. You knew Hiro was dead. You knew it in your heart but you needed to know who killed him..

"Good morning love".

Gojo's raspy voice sent a shiver down your spine. "Good morning". You smiled softly.

"Slept well?". He asked, looking at you through half lidded eyes.

"Mmhmm. You?".

Gojo didn't reply but smiled and nodded his head.

"We should get up". You tried to get up but his strong arms brought you back to your place.

"I don't want to". Gojo groaned.

"Satoru!".

Gojo groaned and huffed for a while before loosening his grip on you.

-X-

You walked in the gardens of the estate with Keisuke in his stroller. Your mind had been stuck on the same question, Who killed Hiro? You wondered if you could take Gojo’s word for it and move on with your life. He has been a good father and great husband to you. You knew you loved and believed him when he told you that he loves you. You knew that he loved Keisuke more than his own life. You knew that nothing could ever harm the two of you as long as you were with Gojo and yet…you wanted to know one thing you didn’t know. Who killed Hiro? The one month mark was closing in on you and so far you had no reason to leave Gojo. You had asked about his character to maids and other workers and they all had good things to say. He helped people who worked for him without expecting anything in return, he wasn’t strict and uptight. He wasn’t cruel. You had no reason to leave him and it terrified you. It was scary to think that you had probably punished a good and innocent man. Took away so many things from him.

You bit your lip nervously and shook your head. You were sure he had killed people. You were sure of that. But you knew he wasn’t like other ordinary men. Nothing about him was ordinary. He was born into this out of the ordinary world and he did what he had to do to survive. But did you have the right to punish him for that?

“Is everything alright Mrs.Gojo?”.

You snapped out of your thoughts and turned back to see Jerry standing with a silver tray. “Oh! Hi Jerry. Yeah everything is fine”.

Jerry studied your face for a minute and then smiled. “Perhaps we should sit and have some tea, the sun is getting high now”.

You looked at the sky and scrunched your nose. Jerry was right. You had lost track of your time and now your morning walk was turning into a noon walk. You nodded and followed Jerry to the Gazebo on the shadier side of the garden.

The two of you sat down and you checked to see that Keisuke had fallen asleep.

“Is there anything bothering you?”. Jerry asked as he poured iced tea in a crystal glass.

You pondered over his question for a bit and instead of answering it, you presented a question of your own. “Jerry, if I ask you something about Satoru, would you be honest with me?”.

“Absolutely!”. Jerry sat down opposite you.

“Even if the answer is unpleasant?”.

Jerry smiled warmly revealing his experience in smile lines and wrinkles. “Especially if the answer is unpleasant. You are his wife and it is my duty to serve you with loyalty and honesty”.

“Can you..I mean..I want to know what happened in the last year with Satoru”.

Jerry’s warm conduct was now shadowed by a dark cloud. It felt like he didn’t want to visit those memories in the past and yet he knew that he had promised you honesty.

“I didn’t know much about what happened whenMaster Gojo was away for those few days but when he returned, he was not the man I knew. For the first few weeks he refused to leave his room. He would barely eat or drink and would stay in his bed all day. Then it started…”. Jerry drifted off.

“What..started?”.You asked hesitantly.

“I think we can call it hallucinations…”.

Gojo opened his phone to check up on you. It was about time for you to return from your morning walks. He frowned when he saw the bedroom empty. His heartbeat picked up and he refreshed the screen again and again. Nothing. He picked up the desk phone,

“Is she back from her walk?”. Gojo asked as soon as the head of security of the estate picked up.

Gojo cold rattling and shuffling. “Is she back or not?!”. He screamed on the phone.

“Np, sir”.

Gojo picked up his jacket and was about to walk out to search for you when he heard the man speak again, “She is in the garden”.

Gojo frowned and sat down. “At this time?”.

“Ye sir, it seems she is having tea with Jerry”.

Gojo’s phone chimed and he picked it up to see a live feed from the gardens. He could feel his pulse slowly return to normal. He smiled at the screen, he could see the stroller and was sure that Keisuke was asleep. He locked the phone and leaned back against his chair. Everything was fine. You were safe.

“..so you’re telling me that he saw ghosts?”. You frowned. Everything that Jerry had told you shook you to the core. Gojo was traumatized. You did that to him.

“Well you are right here so I am sure it was hallucinations”.

You nodded your head slowly, “Is he still seeing his therapist?”.

“No ma’am. He stopped a month before he met you”.

“Why is that?”. You leaned forward and twirled the glass in your hand. The honey coloured liquid inside danced along with the reflecting sunlight like it was enjoying listening to the misfortune of a man.

“His insomnia was in control and he hadn’t had any panic attacks in a while either”.

You hummed and sipped the last of your drinks.

“Ma’am, Mr.Gojo is not as strong as everyone believed him to be”.

“What do you mean?”.

Jerry sighed and gulped hard. “He ..has tried to do things”.

“What things?”. You had a bad feeling about this but you had to know. If it was about Gojo you had to know.

Jerry looked up at you apologetically.

“Please, Jerry. I have to know. You know I do”.

Jerry averted his gaze and nodded his head. “Mr.Gojo, on more than one occasion had tried to take his own life”.

The glass slipped from your hand and landed on the cool terracotta floor. You couldn’t hear the birds chirping or the window blowing. You couldn’t feel the sunlight on your skin and neither did you hear Jerry calling out to you. “Sa…satoru…why..why would he..?”. You looked up at Jerry with tears streaming down your cheek.

"He really thought he had lost you. I have raised him ma'am. I have taken him to school and worked on his school homework. His father, may god rest his soul, was not a kind man. He was so hard on him. Physically and mentally. Master Gojo was so young, too young to understand what's right and wrong. He had made many wrong choices in his life but I had never seen him like that. He didn't shed a tear during his father's funeral but I have heard his cries from the other side of the door everyday for the past one year. His life looks good from the outside but I have seen his life. It's anything but picture perfect".

You sat quietly and listened to Jerry. Everything seemed to make sense now. Gojo was not a perfect man but that doesn't mean he deserved what he got. You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. You wondered the strength it took for him to overcome all that. He didn't know what love was as a child and yet you have seen him give his all to Keisuke.

"He is… truly something then". You chuckled.

"Yes ma'am he is".

"Jerry, would you please take Keisuke back to room. I'd like to see Satoru".

-X-

Gojo checked his watch, it was almost lunch time. He could either have lunch or go back to you early. His priorities were clear. Right now he sat opposite two ruling party leaders talking about the outcome of the coming elections. Elections cost money. Gojo had money.

"Mr.Gojo, we understand that the Gojo group can not openly support us but your contribution matters a lot. We appreciate that our ideas align".

Gojo smiled diplomatically. Gojo hated both sides and he was funding both the parties. Regardless of who comes in power they were all puppets to him anyway.

He thought he heard your voice outside but ignored it. Then he heard it again and now he was sure something was happening on the other side of the door.

He saw a guard walk towards him and raised an eyebrow.

The guard bent down and whispered near his ear, "Mrs.Gojo is here to see you. Should I send her away?".

Gojo smiled, "let her in".

Gojo rested his chin on his knuckles and watched the wooden doors open. The two politicians turned their heads in the direction of his gaze.

You looked confused. Cute. Adorable. Gojo bit his lip looking at your doe eyes trying to take it all in. You looked out of place in this room in your white floral dress and messy bun. You gave him a short smile as you walked with your hands clasped at the front. Gojo smiled back, Letting you know that you were okay.

You bowed at the politicians and now cursed yourself for interrupting his meeting. You looked at him, smiling at you, like everything that happened with him never happened at all. Now you could see the scarred and broken man behind the sweet smile.

"Hi". You spoke and gave Gojo a short wave.

Gojo chuckled. "Hi, how can I help you love?".

"I…". You looked at the two men staring at you wide eyed. "...I can come back later. I don't -".

"Leave". Gojo cut you off.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. You pressed your lips together and nodded. You were about to turn around when Gojo stopped you.

"Not you love". He spoke softly. He glared at the two men.."you two, leave".

Your mouth hung open as you watched the two men, whom you were sure you had seen on TV scurry out of the room.

Gojo walked around the table and sat on the edge of the table with his hand crossed. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having my wife visit me at work". He spoke in a tone that made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

You stepped closer to him, hesitantly. "I..I was thinking about what you said. I think we should get a nanny".

Gojo's eyes widened and that surprised you. "It's not that I can't take care of him. I-".

Before you could finish your nervous rant Gojo pulled you closer to him. His hands wrapped around your waist. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material of the dress.

"We'll get a nanny".

You smiled. He looked just as he did years ago in the office but something was missing.. "You don't wear a tie anymore?". You asked suddenly.

Gojo's smile dropped. "Yeah…I don't feel like wearing it anymore".

You understood the reason and felt stupid for bringing it up. To lighten the mood you resolved to teasing, "Be honest Satoru, is it because you still can't tie it properly?".

Gojo looked at you and then burst out laughing. He pulled closer and now had you standing between his legs. He groaned thinking that you'd leave now and he'd have to go another five hours without you.

"Don't go". Gojo pleaded.

"I live on the other end of the house".

Gojo rested his forehead on your shoulder and gave your waist a gentle squeeze. "Too far".

You chuckled. "I have to go and deal with another clingy baby".

Gojo looked up at the wall clock, "he must be asleep now and he will probably sleep for another 30 minutes".

You were surprised. "Satoru! That's…accurate".

Gojo beamed produly. "I'm a good father right?".

You looked at him, even though his eyes had a hint of sarcasm you knew that deep down he wanted the affirmation. "Yes you are. You're the best dad".

Gojo's smile after hearing your words could only be described as one of a kind.

"The nanny will be here by tomorrow morning. You can meet her before letting her see Keisuke".

You nodded your head. "Satoru…". You asked, absentmindedly playing with the buttons of his shirt.

"Yes, love?".

"I think we should get a family photo. Keisuke is still quite young so it's the right time".

Gojo smiled a wide…devilish smile.

"Nothing too extravagant!!". You protested before Gojo could even say anything.

He laughed at your response. "Alright alright. Tell me what kind you want and we'll get it".

"Good! Now I gotta go to my other baby". You scrunched up your nose and tried to pull away but Gojo won't let you.

"Satoru!". You widened your eyes to warn him.

"I didn't do anything". Gojo shrugged.

"Let me go!". You tried to break free but he didn't budge.

"I'm not stopping you". He said nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. "Do you really want our son to murder Mr.giraffe?".

Gojo hummed. "We can't have that happening".

"Exactly we can't. So let me-".

"But on the other hand-".

"Gojo Satoru!". You warned.

Gojo let you go and gave a 90 degree bow. You chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Focus on your work! I'll see you for dinner!".

"Yes ma'am!". Gojo straightened up with a smirk.

You walked out of the office smiling like you haven't smiled in years.

Gojo turned around as the door closed and got back to his work. But he was not the same person he was moments before. He still wanted to rush through work and run to see you on the other side of the house but before everything, he ordered 30 ties. Truth be told Gojo has been tying his tie since he was five.

@hiqhkey @chemtrails-club @simplyrosesxr @foggyperfectiondragon @sofi786 @vesta-ro @kimvmarvel @mykyoon @shintin @attackonsimpp @pyschopotatomeme @lilith412426 @shuxjodie @sagejin @cloudsinthecosmos @hecateria @froggylust @lightblueexorcist @watyousayin @creolequeen11210 @s13nnnna @shartnart1 @the-crane-wives @musababy @loquia @ackerstain @allofffmypeaches @regalillegal @erintaro @commandertorinshepard @gojo-sunglasses @tspice283 @iam-mia9 @screwyou3 @denypipa @smolkazumi @winter-bearv @mc-reborn @pangolynnn @sindela @daintyazra @purpleguk @iam-mia9 @sammyiguess @ritsatoru @5seos

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devotekuna · 6 months

Text

Crush!Geto headcanons/drabbles (Teen Geto, after riko died too)

♡˗Valentines day was always the worst for suguru as he had to do the honours of politely rejecting many girls, then make sure they didn't get upset so he wasn't painted as a bad guy.

☆He was so different from Satoru as he actually had morals and kindness when rejecting the people, always gently rejecting them and not taking the chocolate instead of Satoru who would gladly reject them and eat their chocolate.

☆Always trying to find the person who left gifts at his door or on his desk, hoping that Satoru hadn't gotten to them before him.

"Sorry, I can't accept these" "I hope you find someone else" "You're too kind, to date me" "Thank you, it's so sweet but I'm not looking for a valentines"

☆Wrapping the conversations up with that smile of his which you loved deeply about him.

☆It was a clear lie that he wasn't looking for a valentines as you had been on his mind for the longest time, favourite food and a plushie he had bought you from the aquarium when he went with riko, in his bag.

☆He waited till you had come back from a mission and rested so your rejection wouldn't hit him too hard. As soon as he saw you walking into the barrier, he didn't waste any time, disregarding his plans.

☆As soon as he heard the words 'yes' come out of your mouth, he almost activated his cursed technique with his gratefulness for giving him a chance despite him spiraling.

☆The first thing he did was take you to an amusement park which was in town for the week, the Ferris wheel was his main goal or anywhere where he could sit closer to you.

☆As you looked out, he wished that he could kiss you right here, but he held back as he felt it would be awkward especially on the first time out together, not even knowing if you liked him or was just here for the fun.

☆He most definitely bought or won you a prize from the fair, along with buying you some food their, may it be popcorn, candyfloss or even a full meal.

☆He would drive you home or take the train depending on what time it was, he'd definitely walk you to your dorm and make sure you were safe before leaving to walk back, knowing that he could defend himself if anything happened.

☆The next day, he took you to a restaurant which he had saved up for, he had heard that it was your favourite from haibara, hoping that he was right as he watched you eat the food.

☆On the last day, if you had a sweet tooth like Satoru who would buy you some sweets for you and Satoru, like he normally did whenever he went shop.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #suguru geto #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #devoutkuna works #ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴜᴛᴋᴜɴᴀ

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mouwrites · 5 months

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ahem, let me redo this... (i think I did it wrong the first time) CONGRATULATIONS!!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOU!!! 500 FOLLOWERS!!?!?!?!?! star struck <3

here's the board (again...) the character i had in mind was Cole from Ninjago

(I LOVE YOU 💜💜💜💜💜💜)

AUGH OMG you're too sweet 😭😭 I love you too!!! Also.. I'm totally starstruck as well! I'm so pleased to have you all here :,)

(note: f/a = favorite (music) artist)

Word count: 1.4k

Ninjago - The Concert (Cole) (500 follower event)

“Come on Y/n, we’re going to be late!”

“You can’t be late to being early,” you protested, jogging through the halls urgently. “Where is it?”

You were looking for your jacket; it was a brand new jean jacket Cole had bought just for this concert, and you’d be darned if you left without it.

“What are you looking for?”

“The jacket… you…” You rounded a corner and came face to face with Cole, who was holding the very jacket you were looking for. Though you almost didn’t recognize it, as it had a rather radical new addition; the back was painted with f/a’s logo (or album cover, if they don’t have a logo ^^).

You slapped a hand over your mouth, partly because you were shocked, partly to stop yourself from screaming. You jumped at Cole, throwing your arms around his neck and wrapping your legs around his middle.

“Woah there!” He chuckled, fumbling with the jacket for a second before securing his arms around you. “I’ll take that as an ‘I like it’.”

“Like it?! I love it!” You gushed, squeezing him tighter. Then you let yourself drop to your feet so you could have a better look at the jacket, which Cole handed to you at last.

“Did you paint this?”

“Can you tell?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, running your fingers over the imperfect lines, “but that’s why I love it.”

Cole threw an arm around you and pulled you in to plant a quick kiss atop your head. “I’m glad. Now, we really should get going.”

“Right,” you assented, almost sad to put the jacket on because that meant you had to stop staring at it.

Cole was a seasoned concert-goer. He knew that it was best to arrive earlier than early, if not only to avoid traffic (both human and automotive), then to secure your place in the crowd. And to buy merch if the stands are open, of course.

The stadium was even bigger than you’d imagined, but as more people crowded in it seemed smaller and smaller. Soon you felt like a little brick in a huge Lego set, packed in between so many others and secured in one spot. Luckily the little brick next to you was Cole, someone you didn’t mind being this close to. You clung together, shoulder-to-shoulder, to avoid the other people surrounding you both.

The openers were pretty good, but deep down you were anxious to see your band. To be fair, you did buy the tickets to see them specifically.

And then they finally came. The sky was quite dark by then, and the stadium lights began flashing different colors. At that moment you were certain that they were about to come out. And sure enough, there they were, rocking their best clothes for the occasion on stage.

Your hand tightened into a crushing grip around Cole’s; he was doing the same, but neither of you really noticed. You shared an overexcited glance at each other that read oh my goodness it’s them!! Are you seeing this?

Bouncing eagerly on your heels, you waited in anticipation for the music to start. The speakers blared with f/a shouting a welcome to the crowd, which you and everyone around you responded to with enthusiastic yelling. It was quite noisy, but the speakers easily overpowered the noise with the first note of a song.

Time passed way too quickly. With each new song you silently wished that the moment would last forever, only to be disappointed when it ended but to have the feeling rekindled when the next song started. Suddenly they were all your favorites; though of course you went especially wild when your actual favorite number was played.

Dancing, screaming lyrics, waving your arms—it all came naturally to you, as if you were an animal transformed in the multicolored lights. Maybe there was something in the fog waterfalling off the stage; everyone else seemed to be affected in the same way. You often bumped shoulders with Cole as you both moved around, and sent endless innocent smiles to each other when you stepped on the other’s toes.

F/a ended up doing an encore of your absolute favorite song, earning a little squeal of delight from you. You hopped in the air, but instead of connecting back with the ground, your feet remained dangling in the air. You looked at Cole quizzically, hoping your question was obvious because there was no way he’d hear you talk above all the shouting and music. What are you doing?

Cole just gave you a reassuring smile, heaving you higher into the air and then onto his shoulders with a little “Hup!” that you could barely hear.

You squeezed one of his hands, which were holding your legs in place, in a thank-you gesture, but also in sheer excitement. You could see f/a better than ever from up there, and any guilt you had about blocking someone’s view was eased by the people subtly shifting around you so that they could still see. If the huge smiles on their faces were anything to go by, they were too excited themselves to even notice you. You could also see a number of other people sitting on their companions’ shoulders.

This time, when the song ended, you were in tears. You shouted the most affectionate farewell you could muster when f/a finally left the stage, and then the tears really started pouring.

Cole just held your hand while you walked to your ride, letting you get your feels out. He knew full well what it was like to lose it over music, and he actually cried a little during the concert, too.

Eventually you sniffed sharply, wiping your tears away for the last time. “That was amazing,” you laughed.

“I know! My voice is going to be so hoarse tomorrow.”

“Ugh, mine too… but it was worth it.”

“Totally.”

You hugged your jacket around you, defending yourself against the chilly night air that you were finally becoming aware of. A little smile came to your lips when you remembered what was painted on the back, and you stepped closer so that you and Cole were walking shoulder-to-shoulder.

“I’m so glad they did an encore,” you sighed dreamily, “and I’m glad you let me sit on your shoulders for it.”

Cole wrapped an arm around you, his hand coming to a comfortable rest on your upper arm. “Don’t mention it; I just knew you had to see better if they were doing an encore of that song. I know it’s your favorite.”

You smiled, putting one of your hands over Cole’s.

You two gushed about the concert the whole way home, adrenaline still running too high for either of you to be remotely tired. The sugary ice cream you made a pit stop for certainly didn’t help.

You particularly liked listening to Cole’s gushing; while you could express your joy through fast talking and blushing cheeks, he had an artistic way of describing the things he experienced through other experiences. He likened the colored lights to the taste of sour candy, compared the roaring crowd to the feeling of cannonballing into a surging, lukewarm ocean. Your eyes sparkled at each description he offered, and you found yourself agreeing with almost everything he said.

Single digits were on the microwave clock by the time either of you even started to wind down, but once the sleepiness found you, it hit hard. One minute you were drumming your fingers on the table trying to re-create your favorite bits, and the next you were fighting to keep your eyes open.

“I’m sleepy,” you yawned. “But I don’t wanna sleep yet.”

“Me neither. Let’s just chill on the couch.”

“Good idea,” you smirked, lumbering over to the couch and cozying up with Cole. You planned on gushing a little more, but the feeling of his arms around you and his warm body beneath you were like a sedative. You opened your mouth to speak, but only soft breathing came out, and suddenly all went dark.

The last thing you were aware of was the feeling of lips being pressed to the top of your head. “Love you,” Cole murmured sleepily.

“Love you too,” you slurred automatically, smiling when you remembered that your jacket was still on, still looking fabulous, still holding f/a close to you. It was just you, Cole, and f/a, drifting away to sleepy bliss together.

Tysm for taking part in our event!! And thanks for reading, take care duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #ninjago x reader #ninjago fanfiction #cole brookstone #cole brookstone x reader #cole x reader

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antiromanticbaby · 1 year

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♡ Yandere Mammon Headcanons - Acquisitiveness ♡

♡ .❝ 𝐍𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝. ❞

𝗚𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗗 /ɡriːd/ Intense and selfish desire for something, especially wealth, power, or attention. 'Perhaps messing with the embodiment of Greed was not all fun and games."

♡ .❝ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬. ❞

Yandere Mammon; who wasn't one to obsess over anything that wasn't money, but you managed to make him do such a thing. Everything he did from the moment he first saw you, was with the thought of you. You were everywhere, in everything he saw. And yet, he wondered if you ever saw him in the same light or not.

Yandere Mammon; who stayed awake late at night, sneaking out and going on car rides, imagining you on the empty spot of his passenger's seat. There was always a certain longing in his eyes, one that even Luke had took notice of. No one knew what were his exact thoughts, but Lucifer found them to be nothing but trouble.

Yandere Mammon; who bought his outfits in hopes of matching with you. He loved you, he adored you, because you were his first. The first to truly believe in him, defend him, show him sympathy and captivate him. Oh how often he gazed at his photos, even the ones on Majolish's magazine cover, wondering how you would look posing with him. His everyday life revolved around you and it was only fair if yours revolved around him too.

Yandere Mammon; who had multiple pictures of you in the weirdest places of his room. He was so glad you never paid too much attention to certain parts of his room, or else he was doomed. For example, that one safe box full of money and valuable stuff? Thanks goodness you never caught the sight of all your pictures inside the box. From you just walking to RAD, to you sleeping and showering.

Yandere Mammon; who was doubted and underestimated by many, yet always remembered that he was the greedy second born, the most powerful after Lucifer. He had crows under his power, wealth on its knees in front of him and a speed no one else in the household possessed. It was only natural for you to be followed by crows and wealth, no matter where you walked upon. It didn't matter if you noticed anything odd or not, even if you did, he would say this was an order from Lucifer or Diavolo, to keep you safe.

Yandere Mammon; who was always so attached to you that you never noticed the red flags, not until it was too late. First it was his brothers, he wouldn't let any of them near you. Then your friends and classmates, and soon enough he wasn't even letting you back to the human realm. It didn't matter if he got teased about being your 'lap dog' or whatever they called it, he only cared about you, you, and you.

Yandere Mammon; who doesn't like you get scared. He hates to see you sad, in pain, or even crying. Those tears of yours made his heart shatter. This made him less threatening toward you, more dangerous for the people looking your way. While some demons like Lucifer or Satan would've locked you up in their room, Mammon didn't want to use such a straightforward approach. No no, he would lock you mentally and cling onto you no matter where you went. They way he was sure that even if someone did approach you, you would only think of him, him and him.

Yandere Mammon; who would never harm you but will make sure the ones who dare take your attention get harmed in the worst ways possible. Please don't be bothered by his selfishness, it's just in his nature. It's just his sin. To desire you as his selfishly.

Yandere Mammon; who had you befriending his little familiars and assigned them as your 'bodyguard' when you weren't around. Oh my dear human, those ravens were your invisible chains. Mammon was not just a good model, he was a good actor too. He may blush a lot and stammer when around you, but that's completely normal, isn't it? Specially when the topic of death comes up. Mammon, why is there hints of blood on little Raven's beak?

Yandere Mammon; who would never let you go. Because you were made for him, and he was made for you, no one else. Even death wouldn't be able to pull you away from him, he would make sure of it.

♡ .❝ 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. ❞

Obey Me Yandere headcanons: [Lucifer] [Mammon (you're here)] [Leviathan] [Asmodeus] [wip]

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novelconcepts · 1 year

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Watching my mom evolve over the years has been such a fun experience. For context, she's got nine kids (at least five of whom have turned out to be queer; at least four of those have turned out to be non-binary), and for most of my life, she was just your average Gen-X Irish-Italian Catholic mom. She didn't really do vocal homophobia or whatever, but she also clearly didn't know how to handle it when her firstborn interrupted a Red Wings game to announce, "I think I'm gay." (Spoiler alert: that was me at fifteen or sixteen. In retrospect, of course the Tomboy For Life who had never been remotely interested in boys but was ALWAYS talking about actresses/female friends at school a bit too much wound up being gay. And announcing it. During a hockey game. Of course.)

She also didn't really know how to handle that same kid starting to date in college, bringing a girl home, and so on. She did a bit better when the next kid came out as a lesbian, but when that kid came out as non-binary (shout-out to that sib for doing some of the heavy lifting first), it was a whole new deal. It clearly had never crossed her mind before, that this might come up. Gay? She was figuring out gay. Gender stuff? Whew. A shiny new Pokemon of a situation.

The changed pronouns have been a bit difficult for my mom. The new names still get jumbled. (In fairness, the old names got jumbled, too--it was always a laundry list of names before she got to yours, no matter what you went by, because there were just so goddamned MANY of us.) It gets harder when she's stressed, and sometimes she just seems not to be getting it. I know it frustrates my siblings deeply. It can grate on me, too. You just want people to understand out the gate, to take you at your word, to shift gears without a slip-up. You don't want the awkward conversations, the painful skips, the rough patches. It's tempting to just give up on people if they don't stick the landing immediately.

But if you look a bit deeper, there's such a soft mama bear energy to my mom. Such a stubborn determination to get it right where it really counts. My mother, who never once skipped Sunday mass as I was growing up, has left the church completely because "they don't treat my family well." My mother, who once told me not to bring a girl home because it might confuse the youngest children, bought Converse sneakers expressly for my wedding to a woman. And my mother, who had never known the word non-binary, who didn't seem aware of the trans umbrella at all before her kids started huddling beneath it, keeps leaping to tell me all about the shows she's watching lately. The ones where "there's a non-binary character, and it's so cool that people can see that now!" The ones where "and this one is non-binary, and they're so great, and maybe it'll teach the shitty politicians of the world that they're just people, you know?"

Sometimes you just have to give people a little space. Let them stumble occasionally. They're going to. They're going to trip up. My mom hurt my feelings so many times when I was young, said so many of the wrong things right on the heels of the right ones, confused and upset me because I couldn't understand why she just didn't get it. But here she is, almost sixty years old, and so gleeful to tell me about the power of queer representation on TV. She doesn't always get it right, but goddamn, does she love her kids, and goddamn, does she want the world to love people like her kids, too.

#lgbtq #queer stuff #i love my mom #watching her go from an 'eh politics whatever' catholic to someone who actively pays attention #watching her and my dad put love is love signs up in their yard #watching them work to untangle decades of thought patterns to figure out how to support their kids and people like them #it takes time. it takes more time than you'd like sometimes. but it's been so reassuring #people change. they can grow. they can learn. and they can be powered by love above all else #that's just the fucking best #and so is my mom

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scary-grace · 9 months

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Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 21) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Chapter 21

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. You were okay with that when you bought it, but right now the thing that’s wrong with your house is the fact that you’re not in it. Tomura is coming home today – is home right now, in fact – but you’re not there with him. Instead you’re out to breakfast, in the same diner where you and the others plotted to kill the conjurer, with every single human in the neighborhood. Plus Inko, because why not?

You said you’re in the diner. It would be more accurate to say that you’re trapped in the diner, because you’re stuck in the corner of the booth between Shinsou and Jin’s entire family, wedged in so tightly that going out over the table or under it would be impossible. You’ve determined that this is Aizawa’s fault, so you glare at him. “There had better be a good reason why you dragged me here.”

“It’s for your own good,” Aizawa says. “And for Tomura’s, so if you claim to care about him –”

“If I claim to?”

“You’ll allow us to speak. We have more experience with this than you do.”

“None of us had help,” Jin’s mom says. “We had to figure things out by trial and error, and given the situation, we didn’t think it would be fair to let you go through the same thing.”

“Helping a ghost get used to being a human is hard,” Shinsou says. “And getting used to being human is hard for a ghost. We’re helping you. The other ghosts are all at your house helping him.”

“Oh.”

“They have a lot of stuff to explain,” Keigo says. “Stuff you wouldn’t want to explain. Like body stuff.”

“And hygiene stuff,” Inko adds. “They’re used to dematerializing any time they get dirty. Having to clean up is an adjustment.”

“It’s all an adjustment,” Aizawa says. “Our purpose here is to make the adjustment as easy as possible. Let’s begin.”

“No, let’s order,” Keigo says. The server’s here. “Hi. We’ll need a lot more coffee than this.”

There are so many of you that ordering takes forever, and while you wait your turn, you think over the events of the last few days. You went back to work the day after you were discharged from the hospital, scared the hell out of your coworkers, and got booted out by Mr. Yagi, who insisted you go home and rest. You went to the hospital instead, hanging out in Tomura’s room with the ghosts who were on shift. You and Hizashi spent some time formulating a backstory for Tomura, one that lines up with the lies you already told your parents, and Mr. Yagi helped you sneak the fake birth certificate into the government records. That was your first day out. On your second day out, you got to go back to work.

Work sucked. You tore through your inbox like a crazy person, trying to get as much done as possible, knowing you’d be out the whole next week and probably longer. Your progress was impeded by your coworkers, who’d heard rumors about what happened – you and your boyfriend getting kidnapped by a serial killer – and wanted to know if they were true. Surprisingly, Nakayama came to your rescue, shooing the others off. She made it clear that the price was a tell-all happy hour later on, but you decided it was worth it to get everybody else off your back.

Tomura woke up officially last night. The ghosts went to pick him up this morning, right around when the humans dragged you out of your house. You haven’t even seen him, and you’re so crabby about it that when the server asks you what you’re having today, you order half the menu on Aizawa’s dime.

Keigo manages to hold in his snickers until after the server’s walked away. “Gotta fuel up for when you get back, huh?”

“Hey. Gross,” Spinner protests. “There’s kids here.”

“Nah, I’m kidding. I saw what he looks like now. Too much exertion would probably kill him.” Keigo tips a huge wink at you and you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I officially call this meeting of ghost friends anonymous to order. Who wants to start?”

“Probably one of you two,” Jin says, gesturing at Inko and Aizawa. “You all have the same kind of ghost.”

Inko and Aizawa trade a glance, and Inko speaks up first. “Be prepared for a lot of frustration on Tomura’s part,” she says. “Most ghosts permanently embody themselves into healthy forms, so it’s likely that he’ll perceive some unfairness, and possibly express some regret. It’s got much less to do with you than with the adjustment to living as a human, so try not to take it personally.”

“Yeah, don’t take anything personally,” Jin agrees. “Himiko bit us a lot at first. For, like, no reason.”

You try to imagine Tomura biting you for no reason, and can’t. “Remember,” Aizawa says, “Tomura wouldn’t have been capable of permanent embodiment unless it was what he truly wanted. That doesn’t mean adjusting to it will be easy.”

“Like Takami says, the physical stuff is hard to explain,” Shinsou says. He grimaces. “But even just the rules of being human are a lot for them to figure out. They’ve been watching us all follow the rules, but they’ve never had to do it themselves, and they’re still them. They still don’t get a lot of the stuff we do. He’s gonna ask a lot of questions. And he’s gonna complain.”

“Magne had this thing about crosswalks,” Spinner says. “Also about clothes. She still has a thing about clothes. She thinks she can wear whatever she wants, wherever she wants, whenever she wants, as long as the important bits are covered up. I don’t really know how to explain that you just can’t do some stuff.”

You sort of like Magne’s don’t-give-a-fuck attitude about it, but you can see how it would cause trouble. “The more power they had before they embodied themselves, the less attentive they are to social norms or boundaries,” Aizawa says. “Behavior in public is something to be watchful of. A public indecency charge is not something you want to incur.”

He’s scowling in a way that says this piece of advice is coming out of personal experience. You can’t decide if you want to hear the full story or if you never want to think about it again. “I mean, I think you’ve done sort of a good job training him on this stuff already,” Keigo says. “He’s got some social skills.”

You feel like he might be giving Tomura a little too much credit. “Like three social skills.”

“That’s three more than Dabi’s got,” Spinner points out, which shouldn’t really make you feel better but does anyway. “I hung out with him more than anybody except her, and he’s not that bad. It’ll probably get harder once you two start going out in public, but he’s not starting at zero. He’s at like – level three.”

“One level for every social skill,” Shinsou says, and snickers. “Nice.”

“I think the larger problem is overstimulation,” Jin’s mom says, and it takes all your self-control not to start in with some really inappropriate thoughts. “However they’ve been perceiving through their senses when they’re embodied, it’s much more intense when the embodiment’s permanent – at least from what we saw with Himiko.”

“In general, they struggle with one sense more than the others,” Aizawa says. “For Eri it was taste.”

“Himiko, too,” Jin’s mom confirms. “That might have been what the biting was about. She also struggled with smell, which makes sense, since taste and smell are fairly connected. What about Magne, Spinner?”

“Sight for sure,” Spinner says. “Light sensitivity, color sensitivity, everything. She sees colors the rest of us don’t even know exist. It’s cool. But it sucked at first.”

“For Hizashi it was hearing,” Aizawa adds. “Ghosts are able to hear in multiple dimensions, and his hearing was particularly sensitive as a ghost. It took him two years to be able to go without noise-canceling headphones outside.”

You have a feeling you already know what Tomura’s oversensitivity is going to be. Given the number of contact allergies he’s already displayed and what he was like as a ghost, physical touch is going to be a big problem. It’s so daunting to think of that it pushes you into asking your first real question of the day. “How did you help them cope with it?”

“Patience,” Inko says.

You thought that was a given. “Time,” Jin’s mom adds.

“Space,” Aizawa says, and everyone nods. “Now, for the first few weeks –”

You knew helping Tomura adapt to being human wasn’t going to be easy, but as the ghost friends outline all the things you hadn’t even considered, you begin to grasp just how hard it’s going to be. Every last ghost did damage to their relationship with their human, or humans, while they were trying to adjust. Every human had more than a few moments of thinking how much easier it would have been for their ghost to stay a ghost. Even Hizashi and Mr. Yagi, who were the most intentional about their embodiments, had days where they made living with them feel impossible. You’re glad everyone is being honest with you, thankful that they aren’t sugarcoating it, but your stomach is tying itself in a knot.

Tomura’s embodiment wasn’t just an adjustment, it was a last resort to avoid being sucked back into the world between. And it almost didn’t work. If even the ghosts who wanted this were nightmares to live with at first, what’s going to happen with him? Nobody can answer that for you, or tell you how to cope with however many times Tomura will probably tell you that he wishes the two of you had never met. All they can tell you is the same three things: Patience, time, and space.

To be fair to the ghost friends, they highlight the fun stuff, too. Spinner talks about taking Magne to a museum for the first time, and to a mall. Jin and his family turned themselves into foodies so they could try everything alongside Himiko. Even before Shinsou and Eri were adopted, Shinsou taught himself to make candy apples, because Eri had seen them on TV and wanted to try them. Aizawa, looking as calm and reflective as you’ve ever seen him, talks about taking Hizashi to movies, to concerts, to the opera, and watching him hear things as they were meant to be heard for the first time. Inko, smiling broadly, tells you about when she was pregnant, and Mr. Yagi’s reaction the first time he put his hand on her stomach and felt Izuku kick.

“He looked like he’d seen a ghost,” she says, laughing. “He didn’t know babies did that.”

Keigo is laughing, too. You picture Mr. Yagi’s startled expression, the one you’ve seen so many times right before he starts coughing blood, and find it in yourself to smile. “They’re still themselves underneath it all,” Inko says. “Even if it takes time to see.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Most of the plates are empty, including yours. You’ve been eating steadily just to have something to do with your hands. “There’s one more thing,” Keigo says. “Stronger ghosts keep some of their powers when they embody permanently. According to Touya, Tomura kept a lot of his. He can still read auras, like they all can, but he can project a pretty strong aura all on his own. And he can still drain stuff, even if he can’t do anything with the life-force. So far it’s looking like he needs to touch something with all five fingers for it to happen, and since it’s not anything close to a natural human ability, he has to really want to destroy it. Just keep an eye on him if he starts to get mad.”

“Okay,” you say. “What else?”

“We’re happy for you,” Shinsou says, and Inko nods, smiling still. Everybody’s smiling, now that you notice it. “It’s a big thing. And it’s a good thing. Now you’re really part of the neighborhood.”

You could be. You can be, now that you and Tomura can both leave if you want to. For a moment, hope begins to tug at you – but then you remember what Keigo said, and what everybody else said about patience, space, and time. It’ll be a long time before the two of you can be part of anything. And probably a long time before the two of you are a two of you again, too. Aizawa’s phone buzzes, and he looks at it. “They’re finishing up over there. We should head back, too.”

He heads to the cash register to pay the bill, and the rest of you work on extricating yourselves from the booth. You wince as you stand up, feeling your stitches pull. Keigo notices. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ll live.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard with this stuff,” Keigo says. He gestures awkwardly at his broken arm with the other. “It’s a lot to bounce back from. I’m here when you need to talk. Like I have been.”

“Same here,” you say, and Keigo smiles. “And, um – thanks for taking over with the kids, during the fight. I had to try.”

“It was a pretty good try,” Keigo says magnanimously. “You ran a fire poker right through that guy’s chest. Remind me not to piss you off.”

“You know, I think your house is still the scariest house in the neighborhood,” Jin muses. “I figured Dabi’s house or Aizawa’s was going to take over, but nope. Tomura still has a bunch of his powers and you almost killed two guys. You’re the scariest for sure.”

The scariest house in the neighborhood, and now you’re part of the reason why it’s scary. The list of things that make you feel better these days is short and weird, and Jin’s statement gets added almost instantly. “Thanks.”

You all carpooled in the Bubaigawara van, and Jin’s mom parks it in front of her own house, allowing everybody else to spill out onto the sidewalk. You and Keigo and Aizawa are last out, and as you get your feet under you, you notice a lot of ghosts milling around in front of your house. In front of it, not inside the fence. You make your way over, stumbling a little bit. “Did he kick you out?”

“Nah, we left. Figured he needed some processing time,” Hizashi says. He’s looking past you, at Aizawa. “Hey, what are you doing walking around? You’re supposed to rest your leg.”

Himiko skips up to you, towing Eri and Izuku after her. “It’s all fine,” she tells you, smiling. “He understands everything and we gave him some of everybody’s clothes until he can buy his own.”

“He looks even more like me now!” Eri is bouncing from foot to foot. “He’s going to come over to our house.”

“Oh.” You wonder if Tomura actually meant it, or if he just said it so she’d leave him alone. “That’s – nice.”

“You’re invited, too,” Eri assures you. Then she, like Hizashi, looks over your shoulder. “Dad! Hitoshi!”

Himiko peels off to meet Jin, leaving you with Izuku, who’s watching the house. “Tomura’s still really powerful,” he says. “Even when he’s human the aura is still there. Dad says he could probably take on a strong conjurer, even like this.”

“What else did your dad say?”

“That’s for you to ask Tomura yourself,” Mr. Yagi says, drawing up alongside Izuku. He smiles at you. “I’ve cleared your schedule next week. Let me know if you need more time.”

“And call if you need anything,” Inko reiterates. She takes Mr. Yagi’s hand and wraps an arm around Izuku’s shoulders. “Come over for dinner when you’re ready.”

“Yes!” Izuku looks way too happy at the thought. “I have lots of questions for both of you!”

You decide you’ll wait a while to take them up on that invitation, but they’re not the only ones who stop to talk to you specifically. Each of the ghosts stops by briefly, all of them reassuring you that Tomura’s fine. You’re not going to believe them until you see it for yourself.

Finally, Aizawa and Hizashi are all that’s left. Aizawa hands you a book – another one of his. You read the cover out loud and snicker. “What To Expect When Your Ghost Embodies Itself? Great title.”

“It’s a little boring,” Hizashi says, and you realize he doesn’t get the joke. Aizawa is smirking slightly. “Good stuff in there, though.”

“It covers everything we discussed earlier, and a little more,” Aizawa says. “Good luck.”

“You probably won’t be up to it, but come over later if you want,” Hizashi says. “That conjurer ruined our Halloween, so we’re throwing a make-up party at our place. Costumes mandatory.”

There’s no way you’re making it to that party. You thank them for the invitation anyway, tuck the book under your arm, and step through the front gate into your yard. Up the front steps, through the unlocked door, into the front hall. Some part of you is expecting Tomura to materialize in front of you, but he can’t do that anymore. “I’m home,” you call out, and Phantom comes scrabbling across the floor towards you, wagging her tail. You greet her, then pick her up. “Tomura?”

“In here.”

He’s home. Your heart leaps so hard and fast it seems a little ridiculous, and you hurry into the living room to see him. He’s there, sitting on his usual couch cushion, wearing some bizarre mix of clothing from every guy in the neighborhood, plus a pair of socks that could only have come from Himiko. The urge to launch yourself at him, to climb all over him like he’s done to you so many times and prove to yourself that he’s alive and he’s safe, is overpowering. But you remember what the others said. Patience, time, space. You don’t want to overwhelm him. You set Phantom down on the couch next to him and take a few steps back, keeping a respectful distance.

It’s quiet for a while. You break the silence. “How do you feel?”

He has the hood of his hoodie up, throwing his face into shadow. “Like shit.”

That’s about what you were expecting. You need more detail if you’re going to help, but you don’t want to push him. “Did everything go okay at the hospital?”

His shoulders lift, then fall. You see him grimace. “It was weird. All that stuff they did. The stupid paperwork is over there if you want to look at it.”

“Okay.” Before, when he wasn’t human, you’d have helped yourself. Now – “Do you want me to look at it?”

Another shrug. If he didn’t want you to, he’d say no, right? You pick the folder up off the coffee table and open it to the discharge summary, which is a mistake. The list of injuries Tomura came in with is staggering. Seeing this, you’re amazed they only kept him in for five days. “Well?” Tomura asks.

You set the folder down. “You healed up really fast.”

“There are things wrong with me,” Tomura says. One hand rises to scratch his neck. “My skin is messed up. I’m – allergic.”

“I have allergy medicine for stuff like that. And itch cream.”

“They gave me some.” Tomura still hasn’t taken down his hood. “What did the humans want?”

“They wanted to tell me how to help you adjust,” you say, and Tomura makes a derisive sound. Phantom stirs, whines, and noses closer to him. “What did the ghosts want with you?”

“To explain.” The derision is obvious in Tomura’s voice. “Like I’m stupid or something.”

“You aren’t. They don’t think that,” you say, only to realize that Tomura still probably knows what the other ghosts are thinking better than you do. “They probably don’t want you to make the same mistakes as they did. From what the humans were saying, they all made a lot of mistakes.”

“They almost scared their humans off.” Tomura’s voice goes weirdly flat. “I already did that.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know what I look like. When I saw the picture on the ID, that was the first time.” Tomura seems to sink further into his hoodie, and suddenly you understand why he hasn’t taken down the hood. “No wonder you didn’t want me embodied. You’d have to look at me all the time.”

“Tomura –”

“I just wanted to stay. I didn’t want to go back. I thought it would be the same, but it’s not,” Tomura says. There’s a weird strain in his voice now, one you’ve never heard from him but know intimately yourself. “There are things wrong with me. I’m ugly. You wanted me when I was a ghost and I was powerful, not when I’m human and weak. You won’t even come near me.”

“No,” you say, and Tomura scoffs. “No! When I was talking to the others, they said it’s hard to get used to a human body – stuff might be harder to cope with now that it’s permanent – they said I should give you time and space –”

“I didn’t do this so I could have time and space!” Tomura’s still got enough power to rattle the walls without raising his voice. “I did it so I could – so we –”

His voice breaks. Phantom edges closer to him and he shies away, both hands coming up to cover his face at odd angles. You stand there for a moment, paralyzed by the decision between everything the other ghost friends told you and what Tomura’s saying now, what he’s doing now. But in the end it’s not a decision at all. You hurry around the coffee table, move Phantom to the cushion at the far end of the couch, and sit down right next to Tomura, getting in his space without asking the same way he always does to you. You pry his hands away from his face one at a time, and he fights you. He’s fighting you with a fraction of his strength and you both know it. “Let go. I don’t want you. I don’t want your pity –”

“It’s not pity,” you say. He lets you have one of his hands and you immediately try for the other. “I don’t know what this is like for you. I’m trying to do the right thing, but I should have just asked you what you needed. I can do better.”

“You don’t want to. You don’t want this!” He pulls his hand free of yours to gesture at himself. “I know what you wanted. You wanted –”

“You.” You don’t even have to think before you answer. “I wanted you. I want you.”

He stares at you from between his fingers. You give up on trying to free his hands and press in close against his side. He startles at your touch, but doesn’t shy away. He smells like the hospital. His voice is quiet, shaky, strained. “You liked when I was cold.”

“It was nice. But I’ve got AC. And now I can hold you for as long as I want without getting frostbite.”

“You liked that I got rid of the bugs.”

“I’m still making you get rid of the bugs,” you say, and Tomura makes a sound that’s too watery to be laughter. “But I can get rid of my own, too. I had a whole plan for that hornets’ nest.”

“Your plan sucked.” It did sort of suck, looking back. Tomura’s voice is quieter when he speaks again. “You liked when I was stronger than you.”

“You’re still stronger than me.” You can feel it when you touch him, a faint thread of power vibrating just beneath his skin. “That’s not the important stuff.”

“What is?”

“Everything else,” you say. “You’re still you, Tomura. It might feel different to be in the world like this, but you’re still who you are. That’s who I want. Who I love.”

It’s quiet for a long time. “You liked the way I looked before.”

It’s a weird enough thing to say to startle a laugh out of you. “The way you look now is how you’ve always looked, Tomura. Your hair’s a different color, that’s all.”

“I always looked like this.” Tomura sounds skeptical. “You said I was pretty.”

“You are pretty.” You reach for the edges of his hood and his hands come up, grasping your wrists, holding you still. He holds you there for a few seconds, then lets go, and lets you pull down the hood.

It’s him. Those same features you saw outlined in steam in the bathroom, on your back porch with the ashes of a hornets’ nest at his feet. The same red eyes that have watched you for almost two years, that have catalogued every inch of you, that looked up into yours after the gateway to the world between slammed shut for the last time. You’ve seen all his expressions before, except this one: The way he looks when he’s been crying. As you watch, his pupils open and shut, and more tears slip down his cheeks.

You scramble to wipe them away, cradling his face in your hands. He flinches when your palm gently meets his cheek, and you draw back, only for him to catch your wrist and press your hand hard against his skin. That feels normal enough to make you smile. Tomura’s never been shy about pulling you around. “You’re pretty,” you say again. “You’ve never looked any different than this. I like it. I don’t care if you do. I don’t care about anything except that you’re home.”

“But –”

“The next words out of your mouth had better not be ‘Dabi said’.”

An aggrieved silence falls, and you find yourself struggling not to laugh. It feels normal. It feels like any weird little argument you and Tomura have had, except that he can’t dematerialize to teach you a lesson and you can’t end the fight just by stepping outside. “You love me,” Tomura ventures after a while. “Like this?”

“Don’t be stupid,” you say. “Of course I do.”

Tomura knocks you over a second later.

Cuddling on the couch is more complicated than it used to be, mainly because Tomura’s a long way from being used to what touch feels like in a truly human form and he can’t get comfortable the way he usually would. If he can barely stand to stretch out on top of you, there’s no way he can handle kissing, and you can tell that the overload of sensation doesn’t turn him on so much as it fries his brain. Not that that stops him from trying to kiss you more. “Take it easy,” you say. “You just got home. I don’t want to take you back to the hospital because you tried to kiss me and had a heart attack.”

“That doesn’t happen,” Tomura says with confidence. Then, as you watch, you see him start to doubt himself. Some how he’s less sure about humans now that he is one. “Does it?”

“It could.” You remember something from a few days ago about how too much exertion on not enough calories could damage Tomura’s heart, and he still feels way too thin. “Can you reach your discharge papers? I want to read them.”

He reaches out to grab them from the coffee table, but it’s ever so slightly too far away. Before he’d dematerialize one hand, snatch them, and bring them back. Now he just glares at them and keeps glaring – and as you watch in some mix of surprise and horror, the folder lifts from the table and drops to the ground next to the couch.

Tomura realizes you’re staring at him and smirks. “I never said all my powers were gone.”

Now that he’s realized you still love him, he’s cocky, but you’re not annoyed about it. You’re not going to forget what it was like when you got home, what it was like to see him cry, and you’re not dumb enough to think today will be the last time it comes up. Tomura flops down again, his head against your chest, and you pick up his discharge papers and flip through them. Sure enough, there’s one specific instruction highlighted and in bold type. “No intense physical activity until you’re cleared by a doctor,” you say. Tomura scowls. You keep reading. “Your follow-up’s in two weeks. It’s not that long.”

“Maybe if we go slow –”

“No.” You set the papers down and trace over one tendon in his neck, wincing as he twitches and writhes and digs his knees and elbows into every soft body part you possess. He’s lying on top of all your stitches, and it’s starting to hurt. “You can barely handle being touched at all right now. I’m not going to send you back to the hospital and I’m not going to melt your brain.”

“It’s my brain. I get to decide –”

“You don’t get to leave me,” you say, and Tomura looks up, startled. “Two weeks.”

Tomura studies you for a moment. Then he flops down again. “Fine. Two weeks. But then I get to – what happened? Why did you make that noise?”

You tried not to. Really. But one of the too-prominent points of Tomura’s ribcage just dug directly into one of your largest wounds, and you think you might have popped a stitch. Tomura sits up, pulls you with him, starts yanking at your shirt. “I want to see. Let me see –”

Your shirt turns to dust in an instant. You didn’t realize Tomura could do that to things that weren’t alive, and you sit there, bemused. Tomura is staring at you, eyes blazing with fury. “My marks,” he says, and you nod. It occurs to you that this is the first time he’s seen the extent of your injuries. “How did he take them out?”

“One at a time. With a knife.” You try to make light of it, try to sound like it isn’t haunting you, like waking up in a hospital bed after it was all over didn’t scare you so badly that you had to be sedated. “Not my best Monday ever.”

“Don’t joke about it.” Tomura’s voice is hard. “He hurt you so much you wanted to die. I should have killed him slower. It should have taken exactly as long as this did.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to cover up the worst of the wounds. The doctors who treated you had decent poker faces, but since you’ve gotten home, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid getting a good look at what happened. Tomura’s expression as he looks at you tells you everything you need to know about how bad it is. “I haven’t even had them for a week yet,” you say. Your voice sounds thin. “They won’t look like this forever.”

Tomura’s jaw clenches. “I don’t care what they look like. I care that they hurt.”

You don’t know what to say to that. You sit there numbly and Tomura watches you, clearly thinking something over but not doing it, whatever it is. “I can’t,” he starts frustrated. “I can’t do the thing I want to do anymore. When I wasn’t materialized I could –”

He makes a gesture, and suddenly you understand what he means. You crawl forward across the couch into his arms, and he wraps himself around you. It’s not like it was before. He can’t enfold you completely like he used to, fitting like a second skin. But now you’ve got something solid to lean against, someone who’s warm like you are, someone who maybe understands how you feel about this whole thing. Tomura’s hugs were always a little awkward, even when he was fully materialized. He didn’t understand what was comfortable and what wasn’t, why you’d be at ease in one position but not in another, and he’d complain when you tried to adjust. Tomura’s not complaining now. He adjusts with you, and once you’re settled, you try not to move too much. It’s weird. But it’s the kind of weird you can get used to.

“You smell nice,” Tomura says after a little while. He unwraps one arm from around you and sniffs his own armpit. Then he makes a face. “I smell weird.”

“You smell like the hospital,” you say. “We can fix that. Want to shower?”

Tomura gives you a suspicious look. “I’m not allowed in the bathroom while you’re in there.”

“That was before.” You think over the events of the last week. He’s already seen you naked. The two of you have had sex. He’s your boyfriend, and he’s human. Whatever objections you had, they aren’t valid anymore. “The rules still apply if either of us is using the toilet, but we can shower together. If you want. Do you want to?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tomura says, which means yes. “I thought you’d never let me.”

There are a lot of things you thought would never happen, and a lot of them happened in the last week. You pull yourself out of Tomura’s arms reluctantly and lead him up the stairs.

You check over your wound care instructions and Tomura’s as he gets undressed. Everything looks about the same for both of you. You also take the opportunity to go over the list of known allergens the doctors gave you yesterday. Almost all your soaps and shower products meet the criteria already – low to no scent, hypoallergenic, no harsh chemicals. You set out an extra towel and an extra sponge and lay down a bath mat, then turn on the water.

Since you met Tomura you’ve been taking hot showers, but they can be hard on skin, and you don’t want Tomura to faint. You opt for warm water instead, take off your own clothes, and inspect your stitches for a moment before stepping into the shower. The spot Tomura elbowed by accident looks unhappy, but the coarse black stitches haven’t come undone. Seeing them makes you feel sick. You look away and step into the shower, leaving the door cracked for Tomura to follow you in.

There’s room for both of you inside, but it’s a close fit. You have a feeling that you and Tomura will be having a discussion about the impracticality of shower sex at some point in the future, but that’s not for today. You switch positions carefully with Tomura so that he’s under the majority of the spray and watch him startle as it patters against his skin. You wonder what he’s thinking.

You’ve spent a lot of time wondering what Tomura’s thinking since you met him, but it occurs to you that you can ask. “What’s going on up there?”

“It’s – so much. Loud. But not loud. It feels like – a lot.” Tomura’s hair is plastered to his face from the water. He pushes it out of his eyes. “I’m fine. I don’t want to get out.”

“We won’t get out,” you promise. “Take the time you need.”

He twists this way and that under the spray, working on getting used to it. He’s got stitches, too, all of them taken with the same coarse thread as yours. “Now what?”

You pick up a bottle of shampoo. The mild kind. “Put this in your hair and sort of scrub it around, then rinse it out,” you explain. Tomura brushes his hair out of his eyes again, looking vaguely skeptical. “Or I can do it for you.”

“You.”

You should have known he’d answer like that. He’s got enough of a height advantage on you that you’re going to need him to sit down for this to work, and there are an awkward few minutes while the two of you get settled. You lean back against the wall, and Tomura leans back against your chest, head tipped forward. “Make sure you close your eyes,” you say. “This will sting if it gets in them.”

Tomura nods without looking up. You pour some shampoo into your hand and get to work.

His hair is tangled, like always. Worse than always, because he’s been materialized this entire time, and he hasn’t brushed it at all. You forget about washing his hair for a second in favor of detangling it, and Tomura slumps back against you. “You’re still doing that now that I’m here all the time? I thought you’d stop.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Tomura says quickly. You return your attention to the knot you’re working through. “I thought it was just because I was a ghost.”

Huh. “What other things do you think I was only doing because you were a ghost?”

The answer, it turns out, is a lot of things. If Tomura had asked any of the other ghosts about them, he wouldn’t have had to worry, but they probably would have told him not to be stupid, which is probably why he didn’t ask. No wonder he was upset when you got back, if he thought he was losing so many things – sleeping on top of you, sitting on your lap, having his hair played with, being held. He names gesture after gesture as you untangle his hair, and you reassure him about each one.

Once you’ve worked through all the knots, you move on to washing Tomura’s hair in earnest. You don’t think you’re doing a very good job, but when your fingers slow their progress, Tomura complains in a voice that sounds distinctly sleepy. “Don’t. It’s nice.”

You add conditioner, too. Tomura probably won’t bother with it in the future, but you might as well give him soft hair while you can get away with it. Then you shake him out of relaxation and help him to his feet to wash off. He’s sort of floppy when he’s tired, and although you can already tell that it’ll annoy you sometimes, right now it’s just cute. There’s no way you’re telling him he’s cute. You hand him a sponge and some soap and put him in charge of washing his front. You’ll take care of his back.

The fight left Tomura beaten up all over, but his back took a lot of damage while he was caught between the living world and the world between, and it’s where the majority of his stitches are. Even looking at them upsets you. You can’t help but think that if you’d been faster to get to him, if you’d been stronger, if you’d called the others to help you instead of waiting for them to come on their own, he wouldn’t have spent so long trapped between worlds. He wouldn’t have been hurt like this. But that’s only the last set of mistakes you made. If you’d killed his conjurer like you meant to, he’d still be a ghost, and there’d be no marks on him at all.

“Hey.” Tomura glances over his shoulder at you, and you realize that your hands have gone still. You duck closer, hiding your face, and go back to washing, but Tomura’s not fooled. You keep forgetting, somehow, that he knows you as well as you know him. “Don’t make that face. You’re just a human. What were you supposed to do?”

“Kill him.” Your voice wavers. “So you could be human because you wanted to. Not because you didn’t have a choice.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tomura says. He turns to face you, and when you don’t look up, his hand rises to hold your jaw and tilt it upward. “If I was just doing it to avoid going back, it wouldn’t have worked. I wanted to be like this.”

You know that, but – “I wish I hadn’t let you get hurt.”

“Yeah, and I wish I hadn’t let my conjurer torture you.” Tomura gives you a few seconds of protesting that characterization of events before he springs his trap. “See how dumb it sounds when I say it? It sounds dumber from you, since you’re the human and it wasn’t even your job. You told me the stupid plan the others had. You were never supposed to do it.”

He pauses for a moment. “I guess it would have worked if I’d been materialized, though. Dabi saw you stab him. He said it was kind of hot.”

Your mind goes sort of blank at the sheer weirdness of that statement. “And he’s still alive because?”

“I can kill him whenever I want to,” Tomura says. He turns away again, and you go back to washing off the unstitched parts of his skin, shaking your head in bemusement. “I bet it was really hot.”

Tomura thinks the fact that you ran his conjurer through with a fire poker is hot. That’s probably a good thing, because you’re not sorry you did it. You rest your forehead against the back of his neck for a second, resisting the urge to kiss him, and note that his pale skin is turning pink and flushed from the water. The water’s not that warm. You should probably get him out of here sooner rather than later. Inko warned you that newly embodied ghosts aren’t aware of the physical sensations that proceed things like throwing up or passing out, and you’d really prefer for Tomura not to faint in here.

Tomura complains about having to get out, but you remind him that showering is something humans have to do regularly and shoo him out anyway. You stay in a little longer to wash up, then step out into a mildly steamy bathroom. For a moment you’re cast back into the memory of the first time you saw Tomura face to face – in this bathroom, outlined by the steam, looking you up and down with a smile you couldn’t identify as creepy or not. Thinking about it now, you know it wasn’t creepy. He was proud of himself for figuring out how to make himself visible, proud that you could see him at last. Standing here more than a year later, it’s hard to believe how much has changed.

There are puddles of water down the hall on the way to the bedroom, evidence that while Tomura’s figured out showering, he hasn’t figured out drying off. When you step into your room, you find more evidence in the form of a pile of wet clothes discarded on the ground. Jin’s mom said that the ghosts have to learn by experience sometimes. You glance towards the bed and find Tomura sitting on it, dressed in a pair of pink sweatpants of unknown provenance and – “Um, is that my shirt?”

“Yeah.” Tomura gives you that dumbest-person-ever look. You’re not thrilled to see that it’s survived his embodiment. “It was right there. It fits.”

You buy your pajama shirts almost comically oversized, and Tomura’s not all that much taller than you. Something that’s huge on you is still pretty big on him. It fits, but it’s the principle of the thing. “Didn’t the others give you clothes?”

“Yeah. They didn’t smell right.” Tomura pulls the collar of the shirt up over his nose and mouth and breathes in. “This one smells like you.”

You were never into stealing your boyfriend’s hoodies, back when you had human boyfriends. You don’t love wearing other people’s clothes. But apparently there has to be at least one clothing thief in every relationship, and Tomura’s taken over the role. Tomura yawns so widely that his jaw pops, then recoils. “What was that? Why did I do that?”

“That’s a yawn. You’re tired.” You were thinking about street clothes, but just like you did the last time you and Tomura were in this room together, you opt for pajamas instead. “I could go for a nap, too.”

You climb into bed on your usual side, leaving the door cracked open for Phantom in case she comes up, and Tomura gets awkwardly into bed on the other side. “How do I do it?”

“Do what?”

“Sleep.”

Right – he’s spent the last week either in an induced coma or heavily sedated. He hasn’t had the chance yet to fall asleep naturally. “Get comfortable,” you say, and Tomura, semi-predictably, abandons his side of the bed in favor of getting in your personal space. “Now close your eyes. You’re tired, so I bet your eyelids feel kind of heavy, right? Let them close. Think about stuff if you want to think about it, or don’t think about anything. It’ll happen on its own.”

“That sounds too easy,” Tomura mumbles, half-asleep already. “Sometimes it takes you forever.”

“Sometimes it’s harder than others,” you admit. “It’s pretty easy right now. Just relax.”

Tomura mumbles something else, but you can feel the tension leaving his body, until he’s relaxed save for the icy thread of ghostly power running through him. It’s faint, but you have the sense that that’s illusory, at least a little bit. Tomura might be permanently embodied now, but he’s the most powerful of the embodied ghosts, and probably still the least human. He can’t dematerialize anymore and he needs to eat and sleep, but it feels likely that the effect of his powers on your daily life won’t change too much.

But you can figure that out later. Right now he’s asleep next to you, his red eyes closed, his lips parted slightly, warm and breathing and undeniably alive. The same kind of alive as you are, finally. For good.

You shift a little closer to him, and his arm wraps around you tightly. That’s fine with you. You close your eyes and fall asleep almost as fast as he did.

When you wake up, it’s to the sound of your phone buzzing, startling you out of a nightmare. You have all kinds of material for nightmares now, and your subconscious has been mixing and matching it in increasingly horrible combinations for the last few nights – or afternoons, since you can tell by the light coming through the window that sunset is a ways off. You reach for your phone, desperate for a distraction, and Tomura’s arms tighten around you. He sounds like he’s mostly asleep when he speaks. “No.”

“I’m not leaving,” you say. You get ahold of your phone and flip it to silent before reading the texts. They’re from Shinsou.

Shinsou: are u guys coming or not

Shinsou: everybody else is

Shinsou: Eri says you have to or she’ll cry

Shinsou: she says Tomura promised

She mentioned something about that earlier. You shake Tomura’s shoulder. “Did you promise Eri you’d come to the party?”

“No.” There’s a pause. “She wouldn’t leave until I said yes.”

Great. “How much do you care about making her cry?”

“I don’t care,” Tomura mumbles. You wait. “She backed me up in the fight. I owe her.”

“So we have to go,” you realize. The idea is less upsetting to you now than it was when you first heard about it, namely because you just had a nightmare and you don’t want to go back to bed. You text Shinsou back. Your dad said it’s a costume party. Do we have to have costumes?

Yeah. Shinsou sends a shrugging emoji. Not serious ones. One of my dads is going all out and the other one just has cat ears on.

Aizawa can get away with just cat ears – he’s the one hosting the party. You and Tomura are going to have to come up with something a little better. Shinsou texts again. It starts in an hour. Be there. You really don’t want Eri to cry.

You’d feel really bad making Eri cry, especially now that you remember her helping Tomura during the fight – and saving your life just beforehand. You start to sit up, and Tomura drags you back down. “No. I like sleeping. I want to sleep.”

“Humans sleep every night,” you remind him. “You can go back to sleep later. Right now we have to go to a party.”

It takes a while to drag Tomura out of bed – twenty minutes at least, leaving you with forty minutes to come up with some kind of costume. You get in your own way a little bit when you realize how cute Tomura looks with bedhead, then order yourself to pull it together. Tomura can’t shadow you as closely as he did when he could dematerialize, but he still gives it his best shot, and you two end up colliding and tripping on each other – and on Phantom – way more than is actually necessary. After ransacking your house for costume ideas and coming up with nothing, you finally turn to Google for help.

Tomura reads over your shoulder. “These are dumb. I thought Halloween was supposed to be scary.”

“It is,” you say. You decide to get into the part of Halloween that’s supposed to be sexy later – later, as in next year. Or never. “This is the wrong neighborhood for scary, though. No matter what I dress up as, I won’t be scarier than everybody else who lives here.”

And that’s when it clicks for you, oddly enough – it clicks, and you can’t help but laugh. The perfect low-effort Halloween costume. How did you not think of it before? Tomura eyes you suspiciously. “Why are you laughing?”

“I have an idea. It might get us kicked out.”

“If we get kicked out, we can come back and go to sleep again,” Tomura says. Introducing Tomura to the concept of naptime may have been a mistake. “What is it?”

You head for the stairs, and the linen closet. “You’ll see.”

It takes you approximately two seconds to assemble the first costume, and once you do, you show Tomura. It occurs to you way too late that he might think it’s offensive. But once he realizes what you are, he cracks up laughing – then wincing, as the laughter strains the stitches on his back. “They’re going to hate it,” he says. “I bet they won’t even let us in.”

“If they don’t let us in, then we get to go home right away.” You gesture at the linen closet. “Pick your poison.”

It takes you a few more minutes to leave, mostly because Tomura insists on bringing Phantom, and Phantom needs a costume, too. She’s a lot less into her costume than you and Tomura are. She keeps wiggling out of it, and while Tomura tries to lure her back under the sheet, you peer out the front window. The street still looks like hell. Everybody’s houses are still at least partially wrecked. If you drove past this neighborhood, not knowing anything about who lives here and why this happened, you’d avoid it like the plague.

You watch as Keigo and Dabi and Natsu leave their house. Natsu looks like he’s wearing normal clothes, but Keigo has a fake halo and Dabi has a pair of devil horns on. It occurs to you that Dabi might be the only other person in the neighborhood who thinks your costume is funny.

“I got her to wear it,” Tomura says, and you turn to look. There’s Phantom, wearing a flower-patterned pillowcase with holes cut out for her ears, eyes, and nose – and there’s Tomura, wearing a grey sheet over her head with holes cut out so he can see. “I think she’s mad at me.”

“She’s not mad,” you say. You’re pretty sure she’ll forgive you both when she realizes you’re headed over to Aizawa’s house. Shinsou is probably her favorite person other than Tomura. “You look pretty.”

Tomura gives you a once-over. Your sheet is lavender, and you accessorized with a pair of reading glasses you accidentally stole from Mr. Yagi’s office and never gave back. “Cute,” he decides. “The sooner they kick us out, the sooner we can come back.”

He heads for the door, opens it, and steps outside. You gather up Phantom’s leash and follow him onto the porch. When you turn to lock the door, Tomura stops you. His eyes crinkle at the corners, the way they do when he’s smiling creepily on purpose. “Don’t bother,” he says. “This neighborhood is still mine.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” You tuck your keys back into your pocket and make your way down the front steps, to the front gate, and out onto the sidewalk. It’s not until you hear the gate’s hinges creak open again that you realize Tomura hasn’t followed you. You turn back. “Tomura?”

Tomura’s hesitating on the far side of the property line. You can’t figure out why. He’s left before. He was away from the house for five days – but not by choice. The ambulance took him away and the other ghosts brought him back, but in all the time since he was summoned, Tomura’s never left the property of his own free will. You hold out the hand that isn’t grasping Phantom’s leash, and he comes closer to take it. His hand is warm.

Warm, and a little sweaty. He’s nervous. “We don’t have to go to this thing,” you tell him. “You just got home today. It’s a lot. If you’d rather stay home, we can.”

“You want to go.”

“I think it might be fun.” Mostly you want to see what Hizashi does when you roll up to his party dressed like the world’s most stereotypical, low-budget ghost. “But I still like it’s best when it’s just us. If you don’t want to go, we won’t. I’m not leaving you.”

“Because you love me,” Tomura says, almost hesitantly. You nod. “I love you, too.”

It’s a good thing you’ve got the sheet on. You’re not sure you want Tomura to see the goofy smile you’re wearing. Tomura raises his free hand and touches your mouth through the sheet, feeling along the curve of it until you dare to kiss the tips of his fingers. He startles, and you remember the touch sensitivity. It’s fine when he’s the one initiating contact, since he’s the one who decides what he can handle, but you need to be careful. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tomura says. He kisses you.

It’s not a great kiss, given that there are two layers of cotton between your mouth and his, but you’ll take it. You’ve always been willing to take what you can get from Tomura, and you’ve gotten more than you ever expected. It came at a price, sure. You’ll be paying that price in one way and another for the rest of your life, but it’s worth it. It would be worth it if Tomura never crossed the property line again.

But Tomura draws away from you without letting go of your hand and steps forward. You step back to give him space, and watch as he sets one foot over the line and onto the sidewalk, and then the other. And all at once, for the first time in a hundred and ten years, there’s nothing wrong with your house at all.

The End

#lovhalloweenhorror #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #shigaraki tomura #ghost story #loser nerd ghost boyfriend

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helluva-dump · 11 months

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Yeah I think I am officially done with the Helluva boss critical community… for good.

Before you guys flip your shit and accuse me of being a Stan, let me explain.

So I deleted my tumblr app and decided just to refreshen my mind and focus on other things. (Like my art, my own possible indie project, ect ) and being away for a while… it kind of made me realize how much of the critical community was becoming too much for my mental health.

Originally, I joined because season 2 disappointed with season 2, didn’t like how Vivziepop retconned things like the pilot, the possible workplace allegations, and of course… the fandom being super toxic as hell work promoting toxic positivity.

But holy shit…. Somehow the critical community is even worse than the fandom.

Like I swear nobody talks about what’s wrong with this community. I’ve seen blogs have such an unhealthy hatred to Viv where they post nonstop about her… it’s insane. Like when making account names “wah I hate Vivziepop”

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t think all critical blogs act like this. I do in fact still follows few, only thing is the ones I follow don’t constantly whine and bitch all the time and actually do critique. And these reblogs I follow just do AUs, rewrites, and redesigns which to me I will always see as harmless fun since that’s what I wanna do.

As for the other half of criticals…. Hell, these people legit get mad and share screenshots making fun of fans with different opinions. Like, bruh, didn’t you guys get angry at stans for doing that to y’all? You guys are literally doing the exact same thing. And no I’m not talking about sharing screenshots of toxic fans that attack former employees and make excuses for a questionable workplace…. But like they’ll just mock fans that didn’t do anything bad.

I’m all for critiquing a fandom and there are Stans that have such an unhealthy parasocial relationships with Viv… but somehow I see people acting the same with their unhealthy hate obsession. Literally going through her IG and bitching and moaning…

Seeing people making assumptions about her and Gooseworks with the glitch x as well as Tracy just shows me how unhealthy this hate is becoming.

Yes, Viv and Tracy had a bit of a heated thing on Twitter. However, I don’t think it’s fair to assume she’s this evil evil hellspawn that’s plotting to destory glitch x. “She’s kissing ass to goodeworks with her fake smile” dude she’s probably a fan of their works, you really don’t know that.

Also, while I’m aware of the allegations concerning Salem (who I hope really recovers and they did really make this episode the best IMO)… it’s probably not fair to assume all employees get treated the same way… the only people that seem to know what went down are Erin, Ken, Salem, and Ashley Nicolas. Do I think the workplace abuse is possible? Yes, it’s why I haven’t bought any merch.

BUT the reason why I don’t like to discuss things like this is because half of the other stuff seems like flimsy evidence besides Salem’s vents. And I think it’s a bit risky to spread such misinformation and make assumptions. (One blog I’ve seen had so many anons sharing rumors and just go along with them which to me is dangerous…)

Like when the new episode aired, unlike everyone else, I actually loved it. This recent episode was so great it’s what I wanna see more of for Helluva boss. But eh… I noticed some haters bitch for the sake of it. Now, some of the critiques aren’t too bad, I did notice some flaws and I understand the concerns for salem. But like other half it’s just bitching for the sake of it…

Also I heard rumors how the deranged stalker fan of Fizz is a parody of critical blogs… tbh I highly doubt that because that trope always existed in cartoons (like Aggrestuko had one too) but considering a good chunk of “criticals” have a hate boner for viv, can you blame some fans for thinking that?

I really don’t like how the critical community became the anti community. Because not every critical person is an anti, I don’t even wanna fuck with that shit and I don’t ever wanna resort to that.

Hell, they drove one critical blog I loved away… over a bad miscommunication.🙃 and that blog was right, you don’t wanna make friends with this community with how some toxic people are.

Also I’ve been drawing a lot of Hazbin hotel stuff for my Heaven AU and it reminded me why I enjoyed Vivziepop’s ideas and stories so much. It somehow was helping me take edge away from my mental health.

I think it’s possible to still be a fan without labeling yourself as a stan or anti. That’s why I made this blog for. I was so worn out by the toxic positivity of the fandom, so this is my comfort space. But now I need to cut the critical community away since it’s now full of toxic negativity.

And as I said, I do plan to make an indie cartoon series and I feel like being part of this critical community is NOT gonna make me professional on my end. That being said, I don’t like Viv as she said things that rubbed me the wrong way BUT I’m not gonna let that kill my joy for Hazbin hotel.(and Helluva boss to an extent) I do think she has good ideas and they CAN work but she does need more writers than animators to help her execute them.

That’s why I’m only a bit more excited for Hazbin hotel lately

Now I’m not angry at anyone who followed me. I just wanna make some boundaries, and that being said, I’m still gonna critique both shows. However, I’m just gonna tag these posts as HH/HB critiques than HH/HB critical for now on. I feel like that’s more professional and more genuine if you wanna share opinions on stuff.

Just wanna get this off my chest, it’s what I wanted to express for a while.

And if fans come across this blog, don’t be afraid to interact I won’t bite. Everyone has their different opinions. I only have an issue with Stans that promote toxic positivity and dismiss employees that were treated badly is all.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #for now on #I wanna restart fresh #and I don’t want antis and Stans to interact with me #you guys need to touch grass with your obsession with viv #it’s hella creepy

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 1 year

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Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors.

Paddington Station's platform was bustling with many people today.

Amidst the crowd, Ellis and I were walking toward the train's entrance.

Ellis: "Kate, isn't that luggage heavy? Do you want me to carry it?"

Kate: "Thanks, but I can handle it myself."

Ellis: "I see."

(Huh? Did I make him feel a little sad?)

(Oh, right.)

Kate: "Since we have time before boarding the train, let's get something to eat."

Kate: "It'd really help if you could carry it for me."

Ellis: "Sure, of course."

We weren't just going on a trip. Today, our mission was to gather information about a smuggling organization in York, away from London.

(Initially, I was supposed to go on this mission with Harrison, but...)

This morning, I was informed that Harrison would go on a different mission with William, and Ellis would take his place.

Ellis: "Ah, Kate. They're selling some delicious-looking bread over there."

He spotted a stall selling bread and quickly informed me.

Kate: "Come to think of it, you like baguettes, right?"

Ellis: "You remembered what I like. I'm so happy."

Kate: "Of course. Whoa, there are so many options. What should I choose?"

Ellis: "Fufu."

Kate: "Hm?"

Ellis: "Seeing you having fun makes me happy too."

Ellis: “Since it’s fun, maybe I should buy a lot.”

Kate: “Hey, that’s not fair! I want to buy a lot, too.”

We boarded the train and eagerly spread the freshly bought bread on our laps.

The rich aroma of the bread tickled my nose, and my heart danced to the scenery passing by the window.

(Come to think of it, it’s been a while since we went on a trip like this.)

In my slightly relaxed state, I heard Ellis’ voice.

Ellis: “Kate, is the bread delicious?”

Kate: “Yes, very! How about yours, Ellis?”

Ellis: “Mine is delicious too. Your suggestion was spot on.”

Ellis: “Good thing I asked Victor and Jude to let me go on this mission.”

Kate: “Huh?”

Ellis: “Jude agreed to cover for me but gave me extra work starting tomorrow.”

Kate: “Why did you insist on accompanying me on this mission?”

Ellis: “Because there’s something I want to confirm.”

Kate: “Something you want to confirm?”

Ellis: “Tell me, Kate. Between Harry and me, who makes you happier?”

His sudden question caught me off guard, and my eyes widened in surprise.

Kate: “Um, why are you bringing up Harrison’s name now?”

Ellis: “Because you spend a lot of time with him.”

As he pointed out, I had been spending a lot of time with Harrison after becoming a fairy tale writer.

(It’s true that I rely on Harrison, but...)

Not knowing how to answer, I heard Ellis’s calm voice.

Ellis: “No matter whom you choose, I’ll make you happy.”

Ellis: “If being with Harry makes you happier, I’ll support you.”

Ellis: “If being with me makes you happier, I’ll be with you forever. That’s why…”

(Huh?)

I suddenly noticed that he was no longer sitting across from me, but right next to me.

Ellis: “Take the day to think about it. Then tell me later which one between me and Harry makes you happier.”

He always treated me with excessive kindness, like a lover would.

He was so caring and kind and gave me many sweet emotions, but it was never because I’m special. It was because he was kind to everyone.

(Maybe even this question is just another part of his kindness.)

It was like asking whether I prefer lemon or sugar in my tea, a question with a playful undertone.

Kate: “Fufu, I understand. I’ll think about it while I’m here with you.”

Ellis: “Okay. I’ll do my best to make you happy.”

Kate: “And I’ll do my best not to hold you back.”

Ellis: “Kate, you’re not good with scary things, right?”

Kate: “Hey, are you teasing me just now?”

Ellis: “Fufu, busted. Oh, you have something on your lip.”

He brushed the bread stuck to my lip, then licked it off his fingers.

I was momentarily surprised by the gesture, but he smiled at me.

Ellis: “Is this what they call an unrequited love?”

Kate: “I won’t say.”

Ellis: “Fufu, is that so?”

Amidst being swayed by his excessive kindness, the train arrived at York.

Ellis: “Looks like we’ve arrived. Shall we go, Kate?”

(Wow!)

Unlike the familiar London, York had a slight countryside atmosphere.

The flow of time was gentle, the scenery was refreshing, and just standing here was making me excited.

Ellis: “I’m glad.”

Kate: “----?”

Ellis: “You look so happy, Kate.”

(I’m having fun even though we’re on a mission.)

The information that reached the Crown was about the presence of a smuggling organization in this city.

These smugglers secretly import illegal drugs from India and sell them in various countries, lining their pockets in the process.

Our mission was to investigate the three locations suspected as their bases and identify their whereabouts to bring them to justice.

(We’re working in a small group to avoid being noticed while gathering information.)

But it also means that if we were to find ourselves in a dangerous situation, we wouldn’t be able to call for help immediately.

(I need to stay focused.)

At that moment, Ellis’s hand gently caught mine.

Ellis: “Would you like to take a short stroll?”

Kate: “I’d love to, but we have a mission.”

Ellis: “We still have some time. Please?”

(Ugh.)

I waved the white flag in my mind when he squeezed my hand.

Kate: "Can you promise it'll be just a short walk?"

Ellis: "I promise."

Kate: "Then, okay."

Ellis: "Fufu. I feel like I'm acting like a selfish kid."

Ellis: "Looks like there are many people over there. Let's go and see."

He started walking while holding my hand.

His hand holding mine, his broad back—none of it felt like that of a child, and it puzzled me for a moment.

(Hm?)

Ellis: "Is something wrong, Kate?"

Part 1╎Part 2╎Premium End╎Epilogue

#ikemen villains #ikemen villain #ikevil ellis #ellis twilight #ikevil #ikevil translations

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 months

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

June 27, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JUN 28, 2024

Tonight was the first debate between President Joe Biden and presumptive Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump, and by far the most striking thing about the debate was the overwhelming focus among pundits immediately afterward about Biden’s appearance and soft, hoarse voice as he rattled off statistics and events. Virtually unmentioned was the fact that Trump lied and rambled incoherently, ignored questions to say whatever he wanted; refused to acknowledge the events of January 6, 2021; and refused to commit to accepting the result of the 2024 presidential election, finally saying he would accept it only if it met his standards for fairness.

Immediately after the debate, there were calls for Biden to drop out of the race, but aside from the fact that the only time a presidential candidate has ever done that—in 1968—it threw the race into utter confusion and the president’s party lost, Biden needed to demonstrate that his mental capacity is strong in order to push back on the Republicans’ insistence that he is incapable of being president. That, he did, thoroughly. Biden began with a weak start but hit his stride as the evening wore on. Indeed, he covered his bases too thoroughly, listing the many accomplishments of his administration in such a hurry that he was sometimes hard to understand.

In contrast, Trump came out strong but faded and became less coherent over time. His entire performance was either lies or rambling non-sequiturs. He lied so incessantly throughout the evening that it took CNN fact-checker Daniel Dale almost three minutes, speaking quickly, to get through the list.

Trump said that some Democratic states allow people to execute babies after they’re born and that every legal scholar wanted Roe v. Wade overturned—both fantastical lies. He said that the deficit is at its highest level ever and that the U.S. trade deficit is at its highest ever: both of those things happened during his administration. He lied that there were no terrorist attacks during his presidency; there were many. He said that Biden wants to quadruple people’s taxes—this is “pure fiction,” according to Dale—and lied that his tax cuts paid for themselves; they have, in fact, added trillions of dollars to the national debt.

Dale went on: Trump lied that the U.S. has provided more aid to Ukraine than Europe has when it’s the other way around, and he was off by close to $100 billion when he named the amount the U.S. has provided to Ukraine. He was off by millions when he talked about how many migrants have crossed the border under Biden, and falsely claimed that some of Biden’s policies—like funding historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) and reducing the price of insulin to $35 a month—were his own accomplishments.

There is no point in going on, because virtually everything he said was a lie. As Jake Lahut of the Daily Beast recorded, he also was all over the map. “On January 6,” Trump said, “we had a great border.” To explain how he would combat opioid addiction, he veered off into talking points about immigration and said his administration “bought the best dog.” He boasted about acing a cognitive test and that he had just recently won two golf club tournaments without mentioning that they were at his own golf courses. “To do that, you have to be quite smart and you have to be able to hit the ball a long way,” he said. “I can do it.”

As Lahut recorded, Trump said this: “Clean water and air. We had it. We had the H2O best numbers ever, and we were using all forms of energy during my 4 years. Best environmental numbers ever, they gave me the statistic [sic.] before I walked on stage actually.”

Trump also directly accused Biden of his own failings and claimed Biden’s own strengths, saying, for example, that Biden, who has enacted the most sweeping legislation of any president since at least Lyndon Johnson, couldn’t get anything done while he, who accomplished only tax cuts, was more effective. He responded to the calling out of his own criminal convictions by saying that Biden “could be a convicted felon,” and falsely stating: “This man is a criminal.” And, repeatedly, Trump called America a “failing nation” and described it as a hellscape.

It went on and on, and that was the point. This was not a debate. It was Trump using a technique that actually has a formal name, the Gish gallop, although I suspect he comes by it naturally. It’s a rhetorical technique in which someone throws out a fast string of lies, non-sequiturs, and specious arguments, so many that it is impossible to fact-check or rebut them in the amount of time it took to say them. Trying to figure out how to respond makes the opponent look confused, because they don’t know where to start grappling with the flood that has just hit them.

It is a form of gaslighting, and it is especially effective on someone with a stutter, as Biden has. It is similar to what Trump did to Biden during a debate in 2020. In that case, though, the lack of muting on the mics left Biden simply saying: “Will you shut up, man?” a comment that resonated with the audience. Giving Biden the enforced space to answer by killing the mic of the person not speaking tonight actually made the technique more effective.

There are ways to combat the Gish gallop—by calling it out for what it is, among other ways—but Biden retreated to trying to give the three pieces of evidence that established his own credentials on the point at hand. His command of those points was notable, but the difference between how he sounded at the debate and how he sounded on stage at a rally in Raleigh, North Carolina, just an hour afterward suggested that the technique worked on him.

That’s not ideal, but as Monique Pressley put it, “The proof of Biden’s ability to run the country is the fact that he is running it. Successfully. Not a debate performance against a pathological lying sociopath.”

A much bigger deal is what it says that the television media and pundits so completely bought into Trump’s performance. They appear to have accepted Trump’s framing of the event—that he is dominant—so fully that the fact Trump unleashed a flood of lies and non-sequiturs simply didn’t register. And, since the format established that the CNN journalists running the debate did not challenge anything either candidate said, and Dale’s fact-checking spot came long after the debate ended, the takeaway of the event was a focus on Biden’s age rather than on Trump’s inability to tell the truth or form a coherent thought.

At the end of the evening, pundits were calling not for Trump—a man liable for sexual assault and business fraud, convicted of 34 felonies, under three other indictments, who lied pathologically—to step down, but for Biden to step down…because he looked and sounded old. At 81, Biden is indeed old, but that does not distinguish him much from Trump, who is 78 and whose inability to answer a question should raise concerns about his mental acuity.

About the effect of tonight’s events, former Republican operative Stuart Stevens warned: “Don’t day trade politics. It’s a sucker’s game. A guy from Queens out on bail bragged about overturning Roe v. Wade, said in public he didn’t have sex with a porn star, defended tax cuts for billionaires, defended Jan. 6th. and called America the worst country in the world. That guy isn’t going to win this race.”

Trump will clearly have pleased his base tonight, but Stevens is right to urge people to take a longer view. It’s not clear whether Trump or Biden picked up or lost votes; different polls gave the win to each, and it’s far too early to know how that will shake out over time.

Of far more lasting importance than this one night is the clear evidence that stage performance has trumped substance in political coverage in our era. Nine years after Trump launched his first campaign, the media continues to let him call the shots.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Letters From An american #Heather Cox Richarson #political #election 2024 #Atlanta debate #political debate

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verdemoun · 4 months

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How does the time warp gang find Mary-Beth? Do they go straight to where she died or did Kieran or Javier find her on AO3?

i'm so sorry y'all mary-beth is not getting timewarped she is too much of an important character also i love her so much i need to believe she lived a good life after the VDLs even though it was at the expense of not being in timewarp because even in my fix-it i am needlessly cruel there is no way for people to know the timewarp exists until they die

mary-beth became an insanely successful novelist she lived a happy life she just got to write there's no one chasing her anymore and as much as she loved and lost the gang she knows where they are she finds comfort in knowing they aren't suffering

shoutout to @synthsays part of a different au we discussed but she went back and bought shady belle and fixed it up really nicely. she gets to sit on the porch and write and look over the fields that are now beautifully maintained gardens and hold onto the good times with the gang.

she's the one who kept all the horses. she's a hero it was probably in kieran's memory but she found the gangs' horses silver dollar, ennis, maggie, old belle, branwen, even baylock (who got lost in the raid) and they're just lazy spoiled horses who get to graze and live peacefully.

she finds her own happiness she doesn't need to timewarp or be reunited with the gang she's okay she made it out

it's important she doesn't timewarp because over her life mary-beth is the one who preserves the truth of the gang. she writes them as characters in her novels and she has such a long and prosperous life there's so many details and books to scour over sure there's a fair bit of fiction but underneath it it's fact and it's her books that allow the gang to figure out who died because there's so many lies about the gang in papers and the gang members people didn't think about like strauss, grimshaw, karen, kieran, even sadie and charles like their deaths weren't newsworthy if not for mary-beth's novels they would have had no idea where to find them

just side tangent of course she picked shady belle because that's where kieran was when kieran timewarped even in modern day it's still just this beautiful, familiar old house that preserved as the home of the great american novelist leslie dupont aka mary-beth gaskill and he was in a garden with flowers and it was sunny and he actually thought he was in heaven until a security guard chased him off the property and he proceeded to have a bad time

arthur would have an ao3 account where he writes fanfiction based on her novels fight me he loves those sappy too realistic romanticizing outlaw books and he is the biggest keyboard warrior when it comes to people misinterpreting the characters

has no idea javier has an ao3 account because javier publishes his fics in spanish and arthur is a dumbass and never translates them fellas read translated fics they are so good

#rdr2 timewarp au #kieran duffy #mary beth gaskill

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tomorrowxtogether · 11 months

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SOOBIN: “It’s always been my goal for the other members to be happy”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Name Chapter: FREEFALL comeback interview

2023.10.23

SOOBIN, as always, speaks in a calm voice throughout. Whether he’s talking about the happiness that surrounds him, the challenges he faces, the pleasures of everyday life, or the major goals that guide the group, his voice is resolute but relaxed—spirited, but soft.

You kept talking about how you want to watch the new movie Concrete Utopia.

SOOBIN: I never ended up seeing it. It left theaters. (laughs) If someone in my friends’ group chat says, “There’s a movie I want to see,” then someone else asks who can go, and then anyone who can goes to see it. I’m really thankful to have friends who will come with me to see the movies I want to watch.

You took a trip with them recently, isn’t that right?

SOOBIN: I took an overnight trip with them to Gapyeong not that long ago. We had a cooking competition, then they asked me to teach them the dance for “Sugar Rush Ride.” So I showed them and then they spontaneously held a competition and asked me to be the judge. It was really fun and super cute. (laughs)

It sounds like your friends are very important to you.

SOOBIN: It’s fair to say they know me really well. They really love me and look out for me. Usually when they say something like, “Choi Soobin’s eating only this much? Something wrong?”—there really is something wrong. These days they’re so good at seeing through me. It’s almost annoying. (laughs) And if any of us goes too far, we apologize on the spot. And after we take a trip, we even say, I had such a great time thanks to you guys. You really made me happy. It’s always like that. I get carried away in that kind of environment which lets me say embarrassing things, and even though we bicker sometimes, it leads to self-improvement. I guess you could say I’ve become a kinder person overall and I’m capable of being a lot more open now. I really learned how to express myself.

I imagine that you get a lot of energy out of that whole process.

SOOBIN: I started going out way more this year. I was having a lot of personal doubts and feeling confused last year, so it wasn’t an easy time. So I went around looking for help, talked a lot to more experienced artists, and got some advice. I ended up getting really close to a lot of people. After that, I had more reasons to go out. It’s a refreshing change of pace from the same routine every day, so I really need that time these days.

How did you feel during the world tour? Judging by your vlogs from that time, it looks like you established your own little routine for after each concert.

SOOBIN: You hear from a lot of different artists that they sometimes feel empty when they get in after a concert. But not me. (laughs) After seeing all those people in big crowds, coming back, and having some alone time, it’s—I mean, that’s a really full day. I think it’s important to have time to be alone and reflect, and to enjoy your hobbies. I don’t really feel like I need to follow up something as special as a concert with something else exciting. I actually feel more comfortable just spending each day the way I’m used to spending it.

I’m surprised you cherish what’s already comfortable to you so much when you also want to try so many new activities.

SOOBIN: I guess you could say I have a personality like a flame. There’s so many things I want to do, but I also get tired of them pretty quickly. For a while I was learning swimming and boxing, then I had an interest in baking and thought about buying an oven, but I was over it quickly. I also bought a camera and then, after a month, never touched it again. (laughs) Anyway, I’m the kind of person who pretty much goes ahead and does things as soon as I want to do them. I never hesitate to start something and I’ll even skip sleep when I want to try something. I can’t stand when I don’t have a hobby to do. It’s tough for me if I can’t have a good time and break out of my routine with something new. I guess that explains my personality where I have to do whatever I want. I’m the kind of person who tries to enjoy what he wants when I want to because I never know when I might lose interest.

But you have far more endurance doing what you do than other people.

SOOBIN: I don’t think I could’ve put this much into any job other than this one. I can already see myself living a lazy life when I’m much older and retired (laughs) so I want to do everything I can while I can. There’s a lot of people who work to make us shine, especially in a line of work like this, so there’s no way I could just phone it in when they’re putting their all into it.

You must have devoted a lot of time and effort toward getting ready for this comeback. You mentioned several times on Weverse Live how excited you are for the new album.

SOOBIN: It’s about embracing and pushing your way through the pain and the hard times you come up against in the real world, so I felt like it’s something I can comprehend and express well. I was actually worried about the last album because I was nervous I wouldn’t be able to pull off the concept of the album, and that’s why I didn’t feel very confident. But the songs are a little bit more of an “easy listening” songs this time and the choreography’s fun, so I’m more confident this time. At first I thought the single “Chasing That Feeling” was basic, but after listening to it four or five times, I realized how catchy it was and started humming it to myself. It felt like the kind of song you’d never skip over in a playlist and one you can keep listening to over and over.

You also mentioned that the dance moves for “Chasing That Feeling” are more physically demanding than those for “Back for More” (TXT Ver.).

SOOBIN: Everyone would assume that “Back for More (TXT Ver.)” is more tough when you see it, but for me, “Chasing That Feeling” is actually more physically demanding. But I still love the choreography. I had so much fun with it when first learning it and I was full of excitement while dancing, but the dance coaches told me, “SOOBIN, you have to do this one with more tenderness. You’re too hyper right now. You need to tone down your emotions.” (laughs) We stretch our arms out really, really wide in the intro and do moves we’ve never done before, but it was a really good match for me and I had a lot of fun. I think the dance really captures that idea of following your passions and always pressing forward even when it’s sort of painful. I got to like the song more while practicing the choreography.

You said on Weverse Live that you have a favorite track off this album. Can you tell us which it is?

SOOBIN: It’s “Skipping Stones.” Singer-songwriter HANRORO wrote it, and I’m a big fan of her music. The song she gave us is so characteristic of her sound that it feels like a song she would’ve written for herself. I fell in love with it the very first time I heard it. It was fun getting to record a song of a style I listen to and sing all the time, which made the process laid-back. I like HANRORO’s music and voice, but I think it’s her all-Korean lyrics that are really beautiful. “The water that swallowed the scars will become calm someday / And it will have a wide embrace.” Time heals all wounds and I was so amazed how she managed to tie that in with the idea of skipping stones. It made me respect her even more.

You wrapped up your second world tour a little bit before the album came out. Did you enjoy yourself on tour? It seemed like you had a lot on your mind while trying to enjoy yourself on stage before that.

SOOBIN: I started to feel less nervous doing the world tour. Now I’m not even scared or nervous before a concert—I’m just excited. I think I’m more comfortable with it because I feel relaxed now. I’m still not totally loosened up, obviously (laughs) but I can’t force myself to be comfortable with everything. I’ll probably have to wait a little longer for that.

During the world tour, you also put on performances at major venues like Lollapalooza in Chicago and the MTV Video Music Awards.

SOOBIN: I was nervous for the VMAs for sure but it was still fun because there were a lot of people who have been superstars to me ever since I was young and it was amazing to see people with MOA light sticks even though it was an overseas awards show. It was so fun that I felt like I was dreaming. It was like, Am I even supposed to be here? I was extremely fortunate to be able to meet people like Bebe Rexha who were a major motivator for me. Moments like those feel like rewards for all the hard work I’ve put in and they’re a huge motivation. I’m very thankful and lucky.

It’s like you take that motivation and work hard to pay it forward to MOA.

SOOBIN: It’s even hard for me to grasp, for someone who used to be a fan myself. To me, it even feels like what fans are giving is just “pure love.” I was so amazed that they’re willing to come such a long distance for our concerts and you can see fans giving things to each other just because they all share a common interest. It’s not like the love between friends or between a couple—it’s something completely special that can’t ever be explained. I’ve been a fan before, too, but speaking as a singer, “the existence of fans is just pure love.” It’s amazing how unconditional their love can be.

It’s clear how much you love the fans when you talk to them on Weverse Live about somewhat sensitive subjects in a firm but kind manner.

SOOBIN: This is how I feel: Let’s all be gentle and share the love. That way, I can be closer with them and no one will be crossing any boundaries of what is acceptable. The reason I say that is, I’m trying to make it so that MOA and I can love each other more and without having to hold anything back. Sometimes I can ignore the uncomfortable stuff and just move on, but the reason I brought that up is because I wanted to make sure we don’t make each other feel uncomfortable and there’s no hard feelings. My point was to say, Let’s make sure we all feel comfortable, and let’s look out for one another and have nothing but love for each other. I try to be as gentle as possible when I say these things, of course.

You also referred to the other group members as “companions” last year in the video TXT Share House.

SOOBIN: We all went through a rough patch at one point last year together. I felt our companionship was particularly strong while we practiced for the year-end awards shows. We were having a lot of honest conversations about our innermost feelings. We weren’t in Korea that much at the time, so I think we relied on each other a lot.

I was surprised when I found out you get a bigger room during world tours because other members come see you. I thought you would want to have your own space.

SOOBIN: I’m not really bothered by them coming in. We each have our own rooms, but I’m actually thankful and feel good that they come to my room to talk to me because it makes me feel like they trust me and rely on me. And I get more excited and talkative than they do when they come in. (laughs) I’m happy when they come in and I always hope they do.

What do you tend to talk about in that situation?

SOOBIN: They mostly come to me when they’re facing some kind of difficulty, whether it’s personal or something related to the group, or when they just want to talk. And I’m usually the one who goes to the label as our representative when we want to propose an idea to them. But there were a lot of times on the most recent world tour where they came to me saying they wanted to hear what I had to say. “How are you feeling about the tour? No problems?” Stuff like that. I actually tend to keep any baggage to myself if sharing it isn’t going to solve anything. Sometimes the other members feel hurt by that though. (laughs) But I still usually unload when it’s something that can be solved together, of course. It’s not like I don’t like to talk. (laughs)

When YEONJUN and TAEHYUN were on SUCHWITA, they said that all the members agreed on one big goal for the group. Was it those conversations that led you to be able to agree on that goal?

SOOBIN: I’m not someone with any big goals—I just want to enjoy the small things in life. But we talked a lot last year about our members’ dreams, what makes us happy, and what our goals are. Not all five of us shared the same goals, but we got to talking about how some of us want to make it to the top of our field. So I thought, If that’s what makes you happy, and that’s your goal, then I’ll try my best for it, too—because it’s always been my goal for the other members to be happy. I figured, if that’s what will make them happiest, then I’ll work toward the same goal with them.

Why does the other members being happy make you happy?

SOOBIN: It’s not just them—my family, my friends, the staff … Nothing makes me happier than seeing them all happy. That’s why I hope our fans are happy, too. I think the people I care about being happy makes me really happy and is as important to me as my own happiness. At least for me.

Has your attitude toward work changed as the goals you’re focused on have shifted?

SOOBIN: I’m making a bigger, tangible effort. I feel like I’ve always done my best, right from when we debuted, but now it’s like I’m trying to be even better than my best. (laughs) I’m practicing harder, working harder when shooting—everything. I’ll work harder this year than last, and next year I’ll work even harder still.

But there will always be bumps along the road when working toward your goals. How do you keep yourself moving forward?

SOOBIN: It might not be the case for everyone in this field, but I think this work makes me really happy, way more than it brings me pain. I'm not the type to dwell on something painful for too long in the first place. It's not simple to get this much love and support, and the happiness it brings is too important for me to let go just because things get tough. It brings me so much joy that it's worth sticking with, no matter what I have to go through.

#txt #tomorrow x together #231023 #weverse magazine #soobin #choi soobin #weverse #the name chapter: freefall #freefall

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