#and even though I’m happy and I love my life

[lokissweater]

beetlejuice!

{beetlejuice!satoru gojo x f!reader}

— “ may you never forget me ” ♪ ༘⋆

summary: living as a psychic medium was like a ticket straight to nothing in your life, you always accidentally creeping people out and scaring them when you talked about it, and you just feeling empty— like something was missing and vacant in your life with no explanation as to why. but upon stumbling through an attic inside a house of a recently deceased couple, you meet him— beetlejuice, a silly and wacky man who was damned to live in the attic for eternity due to him breaking the rules, you never having met a spirit so forward and flirtatious in your life as you quickly bonded. but when beetlejuice presents the idea of you being able to break his contract and finally set him free, you hesitate at the one condition… marrying him.

warnings: MDNI afab!reader, DIABOLICAL angst my god, angst w/ comfort though YIPPEEE, mentions of death, mentions of murder, reader is a psychic medium, fluuufff, SMUUUTTT, p in v sex, DOM AFF SATORU MEOOWWW, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, oral, blowie, mentions of ghosts and spirits and things, loosely inspired by the 80s movie, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 19.8k

authors note: YEEEEEOOOOWWWW GET READY YALL….. SHES FREAKY… SHES ANGSTY… AND SHES THE MOMEEEENNTTTT omg i absolutely LOOOVEDDD writing this one so much and i hope you guys find it interesting or i’m gonna CRYYYY HEHEHEH no i’m jk but as always, i love you SO SO SO much and thank you for all of your love and support !! MWAAAHHH <333

you’ve always had a knack for the paranormal.

and from the newspaper clippings you saw and the meddlesome whisperings of your fellow neighbors, newlyweds adam and barbara maitland died on their way home from a day out in the town— swerving in their vehicle while crossing over a bridge and crashing through the side of it, evidently sending themselves tumbling down to the river below and drowning.

it was the biggest tragedy your tiny town had ever been hit with, the maitland’s having renovated their house on the hill from scratch and had recently just finished it when the accident happened, the both of them in the midst of planning their honeymoon to get away from winter river for a little while, happy and in love and looking forward to a quiet serene life together.

it was a shame, really, and it only took two weeks for rumors to spread about how there were always weird moving shadows from the windows of their two story home, or slight flashings of neon blue or white seeping through the cracks of their front door— all of which pissed the realtors off seeing as the rumors prevented the house from being sold again, prospected buyers coming in with high hopes only to be scared off once they so even explored the town, a store clerk or a fellow neighbor quick to tell them of the gossip and to stay away, ultimately causing the house to collect dust and cobwebs until realtors decided they wouldn’t bother much with it anymore.

and the rumors always peaked your interest, as your entire life you’ve always had a passion for the supernatural seeing as your late parents were psychic mediums for the otherworldly, a beautiful ominous gift that was relayed to you from the moment you were able to correctly comprehend sentences, your mind and soul more welcoming to spirits of the unknown compared to regular folk who flat out refused.

and why? you didn’t know. they were just mystic entities that perhaps couldn’t find their way to the other side like they were intended, and if the rumors were true, the maitland’s were in the same predicament, and you felt like they just needed time and space without the pestering of realtors or dumb kids knocking on the windows to see if a ghost would pop out— deserving of a proper chance to figure it out.

except your boyfriend wouldn’t understand that either.

“babe c’mon!” he pleaded with you, a distressed look on his face. “i thought you liked creepy ghost shit?”

you scoffed. “yes rin but not to fucking break in and steal their things! what the hell’s the matter with you?!”

rin groaned and rubbed his eyes, his friends obviously annoyed and bothered by your defiance and it only made you feel awkward, sitting there on your desk chair in your college dorm and guiltily picking at your black nail polish.

“y/n we literally cannot go if you don’t go.” he pushed. “we need your ghost brain to tell us if they’re around so we can scram if they decide to kill us.”

you snorted, already aggravated by rin’s lack of respect and wholeheartedly believing dumb stereotypes.

“you’re committing a crime—”

“the house is abandoned! no one gives a shit!” he threw his arms up. “babe c’mon i’m serious it’s getting late and we’re losing time.”

why wasn’t he listening?

“what are you looking for anyways?” you mumbled.

“money.” he replied, grabbing his black bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “that’s literally it i won’t take anything else.”

“do you swear?” you peered up at him. “don’t take jewelry or any of their things just money and we get out.”

“yeah we won’t! right guys?”

rin looked over both of his shoulders to ensure that his friends agreed, them muttering and sighing as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek and feeling embarrassed for some reason, slowly standing and crossing your arms.

you never liked his friends.

“and leave me out of it okay?” you spoke. “we could get kicked out of college for this i don’t know how you’re not worried…”

he swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and nudged you on, you stumbling a bit as he basically had a lock around your neck on your way outside.

“they’re not gonna care y/n.” he dismissed, unlocking the car and his friends piling in the back while you settled in the passenger seat. “nobody will. it’s abandoned.”

the entire way there you were aggravated and guilty, rin and his friends babbling on about the valuable things they’d hope to find and the kind of ghosts they thought would appear, not a single person in the car an actual believer of those paranormal rumors as they poked fun and teased, your forehead against the glass of the window and miserable as rin drove up the steep hill— the night chilly and so dark that you could barely make out the shape of the house until you were just about to pull up to the driveway.

rin turned off his headlights and tuned down the radio to avoid drawing attention, steering wheel shifting a little to the right so the car could gradually round over and stop next to the front steps of the porch— rin shutting off the ignition once he parked and stuffing his keys into his pocket.

and you could immediately feel a presence even from outside the house, your arms stiff and tingly as you all quietly got out of the car and made your way to the stairs, dry dirt crinkling beneath your shoes as you tried to swallow back your nerves knowing that at any moment you could all be fucking arrested.

“are you sensing ghosts?” rin whispered, a sly teasing grin on his face as the floorboards of the porch creaked with your movements, his hand reaching and jiggling the doorknob.

“yeah.”

his eyes snapped over to you. “…really? yeah right.”

“no i’m serious.” you whispered back. “what did you bring me for if you’re not even gonna believe when i tell you—”

“okay! okay i’m sorry.” he apologized, though it didn’t seem genuine as he patted your back. “i believe you trust me.”

“wait— she said there’s ghosts?” one of his friends piped up. “how do you know?”

you went to answer but rin beat you to it.

“she’s a psychic… i guess.” he unzipped his bag and pulled out a mini tool kit, a mix of screwdrivers and bobby pins inside. “she can sense them.”

“oh my god…” another one mumbled, all of his friends eerie now. “rin— i thought you said those rumors were bullshit.”

your eyes narrowed. “you said that?”

“no!— i mean, technically yes but—” he took two bobby pins from the kit and put the rest of the box away, hunching down to lock pick the knob. “you guys really think any of that is real? it’s just the neighbors man they’re bored—”

“people here don’t just make up rumors like that rin.” you cut him off. “the majority of winter river is elderly and in retirement why the fuck would they be making up—”

“because they’re old and bored—”

the lock released a prominent click and rin tested the doorknob again, this time it turning all the way and opening as he pushed it wide, you all proceeding cautiously and it somehow being colder inside than it was outside as the group shined their flashlights around every corner and space, not bothering to tell your boyfriend that the presence you felt earlier was ten times stronger now, for rin never really believed you or just thought you were being funny whenever you mentioned things like that to him.

you had known rin since the start of college, him always the rebel dickish type as he didn’t follow directions or liked whenever people tried to tell him what to do, and how you ended up crossing paths with him and it sticking was something that was a mystery to you.

rin was everything you wanted at first.

and though he was a bit selfish, you foolishly looked past the fact and let him meddle his way into your already monotonous life, it being hard for you to make friends in the first place because of your psychic abilities— always feeling like something was missing and… vacant for years growing up without any explanation as to exactly why, figuring it was just the side effects of your parents’ passing.

but it still didn’t help when you’d accidentally partake in scaring off and weirding people out when you mentioned that you just saw their deceased relative wander by, rin being one of the first to actually stay because he didn’t believe you, choosing to turn a blind eye to something you treasured about yourself the most, stuck and left to wonder if there was ever someone who did.

but turning a blind eye to just your psychic ability became him turning a blind eye to everything about you, and you felt like he never really listened to what you had to say or cared, often switching the topic back to himself or giving you a series of ‘mhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ to get you to move on.

you didn’t feel seen anymore, but you loved him still for some reason.

“where do we even look?” one of his friends whispered, the lot of you traveling as a group through the entry room and down the hall to the kitchen.

“wherever you think a money bank would be.” rin mumbled, leading you all and going round to the living room, his flashlight shining over dusty furniture and spiderwebs. “i think it’d be better if we split up. half of us can take upstairs and the others can look through the kitchen, y/n and i are gonna dig through here for a bit—”

“what?” you spoke, his friends nodding and walking off to their designated areas. “rin no i told you i’m not—”

“oh my god babe— would it really hurt you to just peek in some freaking drawers? let me know if something looks like it has money in it alright?”

he stepped over to the middle and crouched by the coffee table, opening and closing several compartments. “be useful please.”

you scoffed. “you’re the one who dragged me here and i told you i wasn’t getting involved.”

“you’re not.” he mumbled, standing back up and going over to a big brown dresser on the side. “just look at shit and don’t touch anything. tell me if you see money.”

you rubbed your cheek in exhausted frustration, thinking it’d be better to just mindlessly look around to appease him as you caught and stared at the photographs over by the fireplace— a wedding portrait of whom you assumed to be adam and barbara maitland propped up amongst others of family and friends, your fingers raising to gently wipe away the dirt and grime from the glass to get a clearer look of them.

you felt awful that their lives were taken from them just when they had built such a loving foundation for it, and you felt even more awful that rin and his stupid friends were invading their space and stealing in the way that they were with no sense of respect.

a sudden loud thud from upstairs made you and rin stop in your tracks, the both of you unmoving as you tried to listen.

“i’m gonna—” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “i’m gonna check upstairs—”

“no absolutely not.” rin shook his head. “it’s probably just my friends it’s fine.”

“if it’s the maitland’s your friends aren’t gonna know what to do besides shit themselves—”

“okay yeah sure.” he laughed, opening and closing different drawers from top to bottom. “it’s the house babe it’s old and worn out. maybe the— wood or whatever is acting up.”

you pursed your lips, arms crossing and apprehensive as you stood next to him, knowing with everything in you that the maitland’s were definitely still present.

“can we please just go rin...” you asked softly. “please we’ll— we’ll find a different building that’s actually abandoned and doesn’t have the maitland’s still here—”

he scoffed. “y/n this one is abandoned.“

“but it’s only been three months!” you exclaimed. “i don’t wanna do this to them—”

“—oh sweet! there’s a rolex in here—”

“no!” you snatched the watch from his upheld hand and backed away towards the fireplace. “you swore to me just money these are their things—”

“y/n they’re dead! who fucking cares? all of their shit’s gonna be donated might as well pawn it.”

“yeah for your own benefit right?” you mumbled, pushing past him and walking down the hall. “i’m going home.”

he looked at you baffled. “are you serious? over a dumb watch?”

“rin you’ve gone back on everything you promised and you’re not taking me seriously—”

“did i take the watch? no i didn’t so stop—”

“i’m not talking about just the watch!”

“you know what?! fine!” rin shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, chucking them at you and hitting against your chest as you scrambled to catch them. “go wait in the car.”

you threw them back and they hit his upper arm, his eyes narrowing at you in return as he then bent down to grab them from the floor.

“i’m not waiting in the damn car i’m walking home.”

“you’re walking?” he shook his head. “back to your dorm? that’s gonna take you like an hour y/n.”

you shrugged.

“fine go i don’t give a shit.” rin muttered and rolled his eyes. “you always do this man—”

you didn’t bother to stick around for anything else he had to say as you trudged on down the hall and back to the main entryway, tears brimming your eyes at the lack of care he had for you and scolding yourself for the thousandth time for staying with him, trying to understand why he was like this with you when all you’ve ever done was be patient and give him the benefit of the doubt when he didn’t fucking deserve it.

it was hard for you to tell if he even loved you anymore, and you always psyched yourself out that he did whenever he’d barely just accomplish doing the bare minimum.

upon arriving at the front door, you placed the rolex gently on a lonesome night stand by the coat hanger, your hand reaching and turning the knob to step outside until another loud thud shook through the walls, and louder this time as you pulled back and craned your head to look up the stairs.

muffled voices seeped from the top as they gasped and whispered to each other to shush, you recognizing some to be rin’s friends with irritation and worry simmering in your brain, wondering if they were messing with the maitland’s things and stealing what they weren’t supposed to steal, as they were just as uncaring and selfish as rin was throughout the time that you’ve gotten to know them.

and with that in mind, you let go of the doorknob and quietly walked up the stairs, every creak and groan from the wooden slabs underneath your feet making you wince as you went further and further until you reached the top, you sighing as you saw that the maitland’s room door was wide fucking open and with snickering inside.

but with each step that you took to get closer… the more prominent the goosebumps on your arms became and the heavier the feeling in your gut grew, a strange apparent flickering light from your right blinding your vision for a moment as you stopped and turned to look.

your eyes slightly widened, a neon lime green foggy light practically oozing from the attic staircase as it streamed over half of your frame, luring you in with your body mindlessly and curiously walking towards it and up the rugged squeaky stairs, fingers quickly reaching up to swing the attic door open and halting in alarm once you did, the green aluminous light from earlier completely encasing you entirely now as you stepped forward inside the attic.

the door swung and slammed itself shut suddenly, you jumping and spinning around with hurried hands coming up to pull and tug at the knob, breathing irregular upon realizing that it wouldn’t fucking budge and was somehow jammed with no explanation as to exactly how—

“boyfriend troubles?”

“oh my god!” you screamed, hand flying over your heart as your eyes snapped to the source, a tall lanky man standing there with a little grin and vibrant pale blue eyes that only utterly confused you, his vertically stripped black and white suit peculiar and unique as your frantic eyes darted over his figure.

you knew for a fact that the strange man before you wasn’t adam maitland, for the way he looked now didn’t match the pictures you saw in the newspapers at all, you swallowing thickly and slowly backing up against the attic door with your heart dropping straight down to your ass.

who the fuck was he? was he— was he a spirit? because if not there’s a random man literally just basking and relaxing inside the—

“relax! relax jeez you look like you’re about to vomit sweets.”

sweets?

“are you dead?!” you blurted, hand scrambling behind you for the doorknob. “are you— are you alive how are you—”

he laughed loudly and wiggled his little index finger— scrunching it up and down to elicit a ‘yes’ and finding your skittishness a little funny.

“yup! so dead very dead.”

“o— oh… okay...” you spoke softly, tense shoulders gradually relaxing as you gave him a small timid smile, relieved that he wasn’t a freaking squatter and doing god knows what up in the attic.

“you seem happier to see a dead man rather than a live one...” he looked at you amusedly. “you like ghosts? scary stuff? haunted houses? handsome me?—”

you nearly choked on your spit at his last comment, an awkward smile wobbling across your face as you played with your fingers.

“i— i um..” you looked around, your eyes catching a book titled ‘handbook for the recently deceased’ sitting neatly on a dusty table by the door. “you could say that.. but—”

you hesitated, the man’s head tilting to the side as he waited for you to continue.

“but what pretty?”

you blushed furiously, never having met a spirit so forward before.

“sorry but— how did you end up here?” you stood on your tippy toes to peer over his shoulders and around the attic. “and where are the maitlands?”

“oh, those lousy goodie two shoed meanies?” he mumbled, pouting and bitter as he crossed his arms. “beats me..”

you laughed a little, guard slowly coming down as he didn’t seem or feel like a bad person to you, and you thought that perhaps he was in the same boat as the maitlands and was just trying to find his way to the other side.

“why are they meanies?” you smiled, and he reciprocated, arms falling to his sides.

“well— i’m kind of being held in the attic against my will by the— holy shit wait!”

he threw his hands out in front of him and took quick stride full steps towards you, a wild excited expression on his face and you stiffening up again, backing up against the door.

“you can help me!”

“help… you..?” you squeaked.

he vigorously nodded. “yeah! the butthead caseworkers down in the netherworld banned me from leaving the attic… but you can give me a little leg room in my contract sweets!”

netherworld— caseworkers— banned—

“huh?!” you exclaimed, brows furrowed and utterly confused at everything he was fucking saying.

you’ve only ever seen spirits from afar or casually talked to them about something fleeting before they went on their marry way, but never in your life have you met such a complex soul that was so animate and asking you for a favor straight off the bat… as spirits usually just— knew what they were doing and eventually figured out how to get to the great beyond.

so the subject of caseworkers and the netherworld and whatever the fuck else he was rambling on about was something you were not familiar with.

“i did something they didn’t like.” he gave you a boyish half smile. “so they did some ritual thing and now i can’t leave the attic.”

you frowned. “why would they do that? what did you do?”

he waved you off and swung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you forward with him towards a huge 3D model in the center of the room that you barely just noticed— intricate and detailed and colorful as your brain put two and two together and figured out that it was a model of the entire city of winter river.

“don’t worry about it! but i overheard juno telling her assistants not to say my name three times or else i’ll be let out to roam around the house—”

juno? who’s juno?

“—and that’s why i really need you sweets because i’m dying in this fucking attic… way more than i already am.”

you blinked at him. “i’ve never— i’ve seen spirits all my life and i’ve never had any of them tell me about caseworkers? and juno? who’s juno?”

“the rule is that the land of the living isn’t supposed to know.” he pursed his lips and dropped his arm from your shoulders, picking up the book that you had spotted earlier and passing it to you. “says it in the handbook.”

you timidly took it from him and flittered through the pages, old and crinkly and a little worn out as the gist of the pages you saw was a guide for those beginning their post-livelihood and the steps they needed to do so— from waiting rooms in the netherworld to being assigned a caseworker to help you out to the great beyond and so forth, your eyes falling on a particular page and catching specific line.

‘live people ignore the strange and unusual.��

they do. wrongfully they do.

and since people had been ignoring you out of fear your whole life… did that mean you were strange and unusual too?

“what?” the unknown man spoke, softly as his blue gaze switched between your solemn expression and the book, shifting his position to stand right next to you and see what you were looking at.

“oh sorry!” you laughed it off, closing the book and placing it down. “nothing i was just—”

“‘live people ignore the strange and unusual?’” he repeated. “what about it?”

you shook your head and sent him a small smile. “nothing! i was just looking—”

“just because you can see spirits doesn’t mean you’re strange or unusual.”

you stilled, eyes big as you watched the way he froze up over what he said, sheepishly relaxing after a moment and lifting an arm to pat over your head.

“sorry pretty. i can read and manipulate minds and i poked in yours...” he looked at you apologetically. “it’s another reason why they threw me in this shit hole.”

he dropped his hand then, a sincere glint in his eyes. “but i mean it.”

“i don’t know…” you mumbled, looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt. “i’ve never really had friends because of it… and i feel like that book kind of confirmed what i’ve been thinking.”

you quickly picked your head up. “oh but— it’s okay! i’m okay i’m used to it spirits are nicer anyways and i’ve always been alone so—”

“that’s not true.” he mumbled.

your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

he funnily froze up again. “what do i mean what?”

“what’s not true?”

“oh! that— that spirits are nicer!” he quickly sputtered. “they’re assholes. all of them. every single one. including me!”

you giggled at his franticness and a smile spread across his face at that, endearing as he watched you slowly cheer up.

“people’s ignorance doesn’t define who you are sweets.” he spoke gently. “so don’t give them that right. you look perfectly fine to me!”

your eyes softened, wondering what the hell this man did that made the caseworkers down in the netherworld ritual him into a contract, as you were convinced it wasn’t even that bad at all and just straight up unfair, him being one of the kindest and silliest souls you’ve probably ever had the privilege to come across.

“i’ll help you.”

his eyes snapped to yours. “huh?”

“i’ll help you!” you spoke sweetly. “i’ll say your name three times so you can leave the attic.”

“wha— really?!” he exclaimed excitedly, hands animatedly flying everywhere as they went from digging into his white locks to all over his suit and then thrown out to grip over your shoulders, shaking you as you giggled again. “holy shit will you actually?!”

“yeah! why not?” you grinned. “i don’t think it’s right that you’re stuck up here all alone.”

“angel! angel! you’re an angel!” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and stuffed your face into his chest, squishing you so fucking tight and honestly holding you way longer than he should’ve, but you not minding one tiny bit as you hugged him back and smoothed a comforting friendly hand over his broad shoulders.

“what’s your name then?” you muffled against his suit. “so i can—”

“ahhh fuck.” he muttered. “i forgot about one thing.”

you pulled back a little. “hm?”

“i can’t tell you my name.”

“what?” you looked at him confusedly. “what do you mean? why not?”

“it’s part of the stupid contract sweets...” he sighed heavily. “but i can give you clues! ooo!— like charades! ready?”

“oh! o—okay!” you nodded, him finally letting you go and stepping back.

“don’t freak out.” he grinned in a silly way. “i’m about to make things show up.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “make things show up?”

he waved his hand and a life sized fucking black bug appeared out of nowhere, landing on one of the old wooden rocking chairs in the corner of the room as it wiggled its little legs and peered around, you screaming and flying behind the strange blue eyed man while he laughed loudly and looked over his shoulders for you.

“it’s okay! just a figment of your imagination is all.” he cheesed. “but guess now!”

“guess what?!” you shrieked.

“what that is!” he pointed to the bug.

you peeked an eye out from his side, the bug still gross and horrifying as it wiggled it’s antennas.

“a bug!”

“what kind?”

“a beetle!”

“yes!” he nodded vigorously. “okay that’s the first part!”

“your name starts with beetle?!—”

he waved his hand again and the bug disappeared, a carton of orange juice replacing it instead and floating in mid air, a shiny glass cup next to it as you amazedly watched it pour its bright orange contents into the cup without spilling a single drop.

“…orange juice?” you spoke softly, timidly coming around from behind him. “your names beetle orange juice?”

“not quite!” he made a drinking motion with his hand.

“beetle drinking orange juice?”

he laughed. “no! you’re adding too many words pretty take some out.”

“beetle drinking juice?”

“nope.”

“beetle drinking orange?”

“colder.”

“beetlejuice?—”

“yes!” he threw his hands out, eyes wild and excited. “yes that! and you’ve already said it once now just two more times—”

“beetlejuice.”

“uh huh uh huh—”

“beetle— mmph!”

a pair of hands clasped over your mouth from behind you and pulled you back, you letting out a muffled scream as you thrashed and quickly pried their fingers away, you spinning around and fully expecting to see rin behind you with a shit eating grin and laughing in your face for scaring you.

except it wasn’t rin.

it was the maitlands.

“don’t say his name honey.” barbara spoke first. “trust me… don’t.”

“i mean— are we sure about this sweetheart?” adam looked at his wife. “maybe he isn’t all that bad… hell we don’t even know for sure—”

barbara shook her head. “adam, did you not hear a word juno said? he was about to take advantage of that poor girl!”

take advantage?

you heard a scoff behind you and you turned around, a disgruntled and pissed off look on beetlejuice’s face as he crossed his arms.

“jeez i know you don’t like me but that’s low.” he mumbled. “i wouldn’t do something like that.”

your head turned back to barbara. “you know who juno is?”

she nodded. “juno’s our caseworker… we got assigned to her in the netherworld after we died.”

“took us three months waiting in the waiting room until she finally got to us.” adam added, chuckling in humorous disbelief. “but all she really did was nag at us and warn us about him.”

adam pointed behind you and you turned around again, beetlejuice bitterly looking to the side with his lips pursed.

oh god.

had he been feeding you nonsense this entire time?

“warn about what.” you mumbled, and beetlejuice snapped his head in your direction with anxious eyes.

“juno calls him a bio-exorcist.” barbara informed you. “he tried to illegally cross over to the land of the living and bring himself back to life.”

your eyes bulged open. “back to life? how?”

“you switch souls with someone else through a ritual.” adam piped in. “juno says he attempted to trick and switch souls with somebody that was alive so he could terminate all who were living… and they didn’t even know about it.”

“that’s not true!” beetlejuice countered, utterly exasperated. “the old hag made that up!”

he quickly walked towards you, taking your hands in his and looking at you pleadingly.

“please sweets you’ve gotta believe me i never wanted to kill anybody—”

you ripped your hands away and glared. “so this entire time you’ve been lying, playing some hopeless victim so you can poke into my head and find out shit about me to use to your advantage?—”

“no! no i— i haven’t been lying about anything it’s juno!”

“juno.” you repeated coldly. “and what’s she lying about exactly.”

“about killing the living!” he threw his hands out in emphasis. “she literally pulled that out of her ass when her and her minions banned me—”

“and what about tricking that person to switch souls with you so you can come back?”

he faltered, words completely failing him and guilty eyes looking into yours so deeply that it nearly made you feel bad for yelling at him.

“that’s… that’s true.”

you let out a breath of disbelief and barbara put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and comfortingly as she looked at you with caring eyes.

“we don’t know what to believe either honey.” she began. “it’s a lot of he said she said… but it’s better to be safe. he tried to get us to say his name three times too in exchange for his help.”

you quirked a brow. “help? what do you guys need help with?”

“your buddies downstairs.” adam sighed. “they’re stealing our things and just messing up the house… but we’ve been watching you and we know you’ve been trying to get them out and so have we… horrendously though.”

“oh my god—” you slapped a hand over your gaping mouth. “i totally forgot about them! i’m so so sorry oh my god i can’t even begin to explain to you how embarrassing this is i’ve been telling them to stop—”

barbara laughed and waved you off. “it’s alright! we know sweetheart. but we’re not frightening enough to scare them off whatsoever… so that’s what we were trying to get his help for.”

“and i still can y’know…” he muttered. “even though you hate me.”

“i don’t hate you juno does.” she crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “adam and i are lost we don’t know what’s going on and we can’t even read that thing for the recently deceased.”

“we’re just trying to get them out of the house son…” adam finished off.

and in that moment you felt like you were the one responsible for this. that if you had bitched about it harder, even screamed at rin to get him to stop or damn near called the fucking cops on them so that this wouldn’t be happening right now… the maitlands wouldn’t have to suffer and struggle like this every waking day to protect their home and what rightfully still belonged to them even after death.

because the maitland’s roaming around and producing shadows and figures and scaring the realtors and prospected buyers off wasn’t just for shits and giggles… but to try and keep what was once theirs and feel a sense of normalcy for the life they once had.

that was their great beyond. their home.

“i’ll get them to leave.” you smiled at barbara and adam. “i don’t care if i literally have to start fist fighting with his friends this is so unfair—”

“wait! are— are you sure sweets?” beetlejuice interjected worriedly. “your boyfriend’s kind of nuts and i can’t help you once you leave the attic—”

“i’m sure.” you mumbled, still bitter and annoyed at him. “can’t be anymore nuts than you basically trying to kill someone so you can prance around alive again—”

“i already apologized to the entire netherworld nation for that!” he argued. “but if you ask me, if it’s so bad then they shouldn’t have put the fucking instructions in the guidebook.”

“juno says guidebook reveals to you what you want most.” adam spoke. “because barb and i didn’t see a single page that had to do with that… mostly just tips on how to scare the living.”

beetlejuice closed his eyes exhaustedly and shook his head. “doesn’t matter. i’m not trying to trick anyone right now i just want to get out of this damn attic—”

he looked to you again. “—please say my name three times pretty i’ve poked in your boyfriends head and he’s looney i don’t want you to—”

“i’ll see you guys in a sec!” you walked over to the door and left a sputtering frustrated beetlejuice behind. “if nothing works i’ll literally just take my boyfriends keys and drive the car down the hill, he freaks over that thing—”

your voice trailed off as you walked down the creaky stairs of the attic and down the hall of the second floor, the maitlands main bedroom coming into view as you tried to get a script together in your head as to what exactly you were gonna tell rin… but your footsteps quickening at the sound of loud yelling and laughing coming from inside the bedroom, sounds of glass shattering and moving furniture making you panic as you practically stumbled in from the doorway.

and your heart stopped, rin standing there with a crow bar in his hands that he got from who the fuck knows where, smashing multiple vases and porcelain jewelry cases and stuffing his pockets full of anything that looked shiny and valuable in his eyes, the mattress and blankets thrown over to the side and the mainland’s things just completely ransacked as you took it all in.

“rin!”

he jumped and spun around, brows pinching upon seeing you standing there.

“what are you doing here? i thought you left?”

“what the fuck?!” you gestured to the broken shards on the floor and strewn about articles of clothing. “what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“calm down babe it’s fine.” he turned and smashed another small jewelry case, you scoffing in response. “it’s all useless shit that’s gonna dust over—”

“get out.”

he snorted. “uh huh—”

“i’m serious rin get out.” you spat. “all of you.”

“yeah like i’d listen to you.” he spoke harshly, eyes narrowed and sharp as he turned again. “go wait in the fucking car or go home—”

“i’m calling the cops.”

“what?!”

a series of protests and worrisome comments erupted in the air from the group, all thrown directly at a fuming rin as he chucked his crow bar to the side— it clattering on the wooden floor as he hastily trudged over to you and gripped your upper arm, yanking you with him and out of the room into the hallway by the stairs.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing huh?” he spoke lowly and in your face. “embarrassing me in front of my friends like that?”

you shoved him off. “get out and find another building or i’m calling the cops rin.”

“yeah and if you do that i’m telling them you’re a shitty psychic medium so they can throw you in the shrink.”

your jaw dropped.

rin was being meaner than usual.

“why are you like this.” you mumbled. “i don’t even know why i’m still with you you’re an asshole and you’re pathetic—”

he got in your face again and grabbed your jaw, pressing you up against the railing of the staircase and damn near throwing you over as the edge of it dug into your lower back, your fingers gripping his arm and struggling to pull him away from you while his friends quietly gasped and silently watched in shock.

“pathetic? me?” he laughed humorously. “you’re the one who doesn’t have anything or anyone besides me and yet you still treat me like this you ungrateful bitch—”

“rin okay that’s enough dude let her go—”

“you wanna shut up? or do you wanna trade spots with her?” his fiery crazed eyes switched over to his friend, him only cowering under rin’s intense stare and shaking his head no, diverting his gaze and you still squirming and tugging for your freedom.

“get— off me—”

“or what?” he pushed you further back and your breath hitched, your feet off the ground now at this point as one of your hands shot out to grip the railing for support. “you gonna call your ghost friends for help? go ahead i wanna see you do it you lying—”

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!”

a thunderous roar broke out into the air, actual lightning and black smokey fog spreading over the ceiling and around you as rin instantly let you go and looked around, all of his friends in a pure state of fear and alarm as they lost sight of each other amongst the suffocating mist— including you as you frantically tried to look for a clear path out, unable to decide if you regretted what you had just done.

“never seen a man with such a power trip!” a booming voice echoed through the house that you quickly recognized to be beetlejuice’s, the walls vibrating with each word. “seems to me like it’s all bark and no bite!”

“what did you do y/n?!” you heard rin’s distant yelling from somewhere you couldn’t pinpoint, the air cold and prickling at your skin. “who did you call?!”

“a god!” beetlejuice excitedly answered. “achilles preferably! wait actually he’s a demigod not a—”

“who the fuck is achilles?!”

the air cleared in the center suddenly and revealed a petrified rin, wide eyed and angry as he whipped his head around to try and figure out what was going on.

“you don’t know who achilles is?” half of beetlejuice popped out of nowhere from above the fog and his friends screamed at the mere size of him, for he wasn’t the normal looking man you saw before but a borderline monster— huge and crazed as he looked down at rin in particular with a scary grin.

but his eyes were still a fascinating sparkling blue, oddly familiar in a way as you watched the scene before you through the black air, beetlejuice continuing.

“read a book your stupid is showing.”

he lunged while simultaneously popping his eyeballs out of their sockets with his tongue out, cartoonish and terrifying as his friends yelled for help and scrambled to try and leave, struggling though the smothering mist as you placed a hand over your mouth in shock.

beetlejuice sucked his eyeballs back in and blinked to adjust. “what? you guys scared too? shouldn’t have been so mean to my little sweets over there then!”

they all looked to you and you froze, rin’s gaze narrowing.

“his little sweets?” he clenched his jaw. “the hells he talking about?”

beetlejuice didn’t know why rin was so dumb for even attempting at getting near you again after everything he did and said— his footsteps quick and stompy towards you until he straight up smacked into an invisible wall and doubled back with a hand over his nose, your brows pinching in confusion.

you timidly reached a hand out, expecting your fingers to touch an invisible barrier except there wasn’t one at all as they fell through completely over nothing, your arm slowly retracting back to your chest.

you looked up at beetlejuice’s huge figure, and he gave you a bright cute smile that made your cheeks heat up.

“this is bullshit!” rin roared, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and pointing at you after. “you’re a goddamn nutcase y/n! what kind of show are you putting on huh?!”

“me?!” you shot back. “maybe you should stop being a dick for once in your life and listen when i tell you things you idiot.”

“yup!” beetlejuice quipped. “doll if you’re still with him after all of this i’m gonna have to start haunting you in your dreams.”

your gaze switched to beetlejuice and you laughed, a little glint to his eye as he watched you shake your pretty head.

“i was gonna dump him the minute i got him out of the house—”

“what?!” rin barked. “dump me? for what?!”

you scoffed. “are you serious? what do you mean for what?”

“fuck— babe okay i’m sorry alright? i’m sorry i’m just a little overwhelmed right now—”

“you’re a sack of shit.” beetlejuice spat. “and call her babe again and i’ll start the engine of your car and ram it through a tree.”

you snickered and rin swiveled around to face him.

“why don’t you stay out of this freak and leave my girlfriend alone—”

“sweets i’ll make him go away if you marry me.”

you choked, flustered and stiff as you looked at him, bewildered out of your mind.

“huh?!”

“pretty pleeaaseee.” he dragged. “you saying my name got me out of the attic but not the house itself… but if you marry me i’m a free man!”

“how does that—” you let out a shocked breath. “how does that even make sense—”

“marry me.”

“but i!—”

“marry me that’s my condition.”

“hold on!—”

rin dove at you with the full intention to grab you and pull you away, but eyes widening in terror as an invisible force practically grabbed his ankle and sweeped him back and away from you, dragging his body across the wooden floor and over to beetlejuice, his friends having enough of all of this and making a run for it down the stairs.

“oh! i almost forgot about you guys!”

beetlejuice nudged his head and they were sent flying back just like rin, all of them screaming and pleading for mercy as their bodies dragged across the floor and returned to him.

“which of you should i gobble up right now… i’m feeling the one on the far right! he’s trembling like a little leaf—”

“please no!” he cried. “i’ll— i’ll do anything! i’ll leave i’ll never—”

“—and i’ll save rin for the very end… best for last right?!”

they all wailed and clawed at the foggy air, your body unmoving as you tried to figure out if beetlejuice was actually being serious.

“please man!—”

“i’m sorry i’m so sorry!—”

“don’t apologize to me you doofuses.” another invisible force grabbed them all by the ankles and pulled them up, dangling them upside down. “apologize to her. then maybe i’ll spare you… how’s that sound?!”

“y/n! please! i’m sorry—”

“we’re sorry dear god!—”

“y/n!—”

“put— put them down!” you wavered. “that’s enough it’s okay! jesus..”

“awww already?!” beetlejuice pouted. “but i haven’t even started swinging them around yet… like a little ferris wheel! heh.”

you slapped a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh once rin and his friends started wailing in fear again, you shaking your head and smiling at him.

“it’s okay! next time! just let them go i’m sure they’ll run—”

“y/n, it seems like you understand me… you’re the only one that hasn’t bitten my head off in the entire three years that i’ve been dead!”

you laughed again. “i’m glad! now put them down please—“

“so be my wife then.”

“beetlejuice!”

“what?!” he whined. “you don’t wanna be my lawful wedded wife?”

“no!— well— just—”

“is it because i’m dead?”

“put them down and i’ll consider it!”

“yes ma’am!”

the invisible force dropped them and they slammed against the hardwood floors, each and every single one of them fumbling to get their things that flew out of their pockets while upside down and scurrying away, hurried footsteps stomping down the staircase as they tripped over their feet to get to and out the front door, you observing in amusement and slight guilt, leaning over the edge of the staircase to watch them go.

and the second that they did, the stuffy black fog lifted and felt immensely lighter, it dispersing into the air above you as it thinned out to a mere silly mist, cold and wet to the touch and similar to the air you’d feel after a long days worth of rainfall and cloudy weather, slow strides coming up from behind you as you saw beetlejuice’s shiny raven leather dress shoes out of the corner of your eye, you standing upright and turning to him.

he smiled warmly at you.

“thank you.” you grinned, bashful as he reached and fixed up your hair— hands smoothing over your head and down before his fingers lightly grazed and played with the ends of your strands.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “thank you for getting me out of the attic sweets!”

you kindly nodded.

“sweetheart, are you alright?”

you looked back and saw the maitlands, barbara walking up with outstretched arms and pulling you in for a hug.

“that boy was insane!” she pulled back and held you out at an arms length by the shoulders. “we tried so hard to intervene while he was yelling at you but we’re useless… they couldn’t see us.”

you giggled. “no it’s okay! really you didn’t need to i wouldn’t ever wanna put you guys in that position.”

“honey— he almost pushed you off the railing…” adam spoke softly. “if you hadn’t called for beetlejuice lord knows what he would’ve done… he was so aggressive and we were worried…”

your heart warmed, never in your life having been so cared for and looked after— funnily enough that you were receiving that sacred feeling from beings that were dead rather than living and it reminding you a little bit of the way your parents were with you when you were young, when they were still alive.

“we’re sorry for being so hard on you kid…” barbara sighed, gaze shifting to beetlejuice. “mistakes happen. i’m sure your passing was something you weren’t expecting like us.”

“oh! no it’s okay don’t.” he smiled brightly. “i almost killed a man i understand.”

“but we understand too.” adam added, and you felt like he was also referring to something you had no clue about as he had a particular look in his eyes, something that was only amongst them three. “i would’ve considered the same.”

beetlejuice swung an arm around your shoulders and looked down at you.

“so are you my little wife?”

“okay—” barbara laughed. “not that you know this—”

“adam! barbara!”

a sudden shriek boomed through the house and beetlejuice instantly pulled you behind him, waving his hand and an invisible force sending you further away until your back gently bumped against the wall, panic rising in your chest as the same black fog from earlier returned and swirled around you, blocking your vision.

was he… was he hiding you? what for?

“juno!” beetlejuice greeted, laughing awkwardly. “heyy long time no see!”

oh.

“zip it bozo.”

from the cracks and openings that you could see through the whirling wind, a proper old lady in professional office attire stood there with her arms crossed, a pissed off look on her face as she tapped her heel against the floor and played with the pearls around her neck.

“what did i tell you two about letting him free?” she scolded. “he’s a loose cannon! he’s not to be trusted!”

“i know i know we’re sorry… we just really needed to get those kids out! and they’re gone! and beetlejuice seems alright!” barbara looked to her husband, a desperate flicker in her gaze. “right adam?”

“yes! uh uh!” adam stepped forward and sighed softly. “please juno… he’s just a kid. he’s learned and what he did was three years ago—”

“what he did could’ve cost me my job and set my entire office up in flames.” juno lectured, pointing her wrinkly finger at beetlejuice next. “you broke a million undead laws and have hundreds of violation codes on your record. your punishment was to stay in the attic for eternity.”

eternity?

oh god no.

“but now i’m gonna have to send you to live inside mr. maitland’s winter river model and you better stay there!”

“what?!” beetlejuice scoffed. “juno please there’s gotta be a way i can lift those violations?”

“i’m afraid there isn’t.” she seethed.

“pretty please?”

“no.”

“with a cherry on top?”

“absolutely not.”

“not even probation?—”

“not even probation! you’re gone!”

your eyes blew open as you watched juno extend an arm out and move it to the side, a bright white blinding light encasing her entire figure and you quickly pushed a hand through the black fog and grabbed the back of beetlejuice’s suit, everything around you scarily blurring out and disappearing and you squeezed your eyes shut, arms reaching out to wrap around his upper torso as you buried your face in his back.

you didn’t want him to go… not at all. and the thought of him stuck inside a model forever like that all alone terrified you.

you understood why he was punished in the first place, but why couldn’t juno just see that he was good? that all he was trying to do was come back to life and live? something many others souls would also kill for?

hadn’t he been punished enough already? he stood stuck in that attic for three god damn years straight with no means of escape whatsoever, and now he was shamefully being sent to live inside a styrofoam cardboard model that was far worse than that stupid attic, for now he couldn’t be seen by anyone even if he truly wanted to be.

had that not been enough? enough of a sign to reconsider his contract?

why couldn’t he just be given a second fucking chance—

“pretty?”

you opened your eyes, forehead quickly detaching from his back and looking up, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you worriedly from behind as he shifted his body a little in your hold to face you.

“what are you doing here i thought—” his surprised gaze shifted over to the way you were clutching onto him, and he relaxed, smiling a little.

“you grabbed me baby?”

“i—” you let him go and stepped back, your cheeks a vibrant pinky shade. “y—yeah…”

he turned around fully.

“why?”

“because—” you bit your bottom lip, peering cutely up at him.

“because i thought we were getting married…”

beetlejuice’s expression dropped and he stared at you wide eyed, his face reddening at your words.

“i don’t— i don’t understand—”

“what?” you giggled. “i thought you proposed to me earlier?”

“i did! yes i did!” he rapidly nodded. “but— but are you actually serious?”

you nodded. “mhm! i am!”

“you can say no sweets honestly it’s okay…”beetlejuice spoke softly with pinched brows. “i’ll cry myself to sleep and shrivel up but i can handle it don’t worry about me—”

you laughed and nudged his shoulder with yours. “i wanna marry you… i wanna set you free.”

you walked over to a little bench, the feeling of you stepping on rubber and glue a little weird under your feet as you sat down and smiled, gently patting the spot next to you.

“i’m not letting you stay here forever by yourself, not when you’ve been doing that already for years.” you murmured, him taking a seat next to you with a yearn-full but apprehensive face.

“you deserve to do the things you want to do and see the things you want to see…” you looked at him so sincerely and loving that he felt his undead heart throb. “… and if i can help you in anyway to get you there i don’t care what it is. i can’t think of anyone more deserving of freedom than you.”

“you’re so pure…” he softly took your hand, yours warm and pumping in comparison to his cold and stiff one. “you always have been.”

he stared at your hand still, his index finger delicately tracing over the faint markings of your working veins underneath your skin, trying to remember what they looked like on him when he was alive, and if they ever looked as precious as yours did.

beetlejuice raised your hand and kissed it, eliciting a fuzzy blush to your cheeks.

“i think we’re meant to be.”

you faltered slightly, for you felt a rush of deja vu hit you like a stifling wave.

“have we met?” you teasingly asked. “before you died?”

he laughed and shook his head.

you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, beetlejuice still tracing the lines and indentations of your hand before you spoke up again.

“i have a question.”

his content eyes switched to yours before they looked back down. “yes sweets?”

“is your name really beetlejuice?”

he weirdly stopped, and you quirked a brow.

“it’s…” he swallowed. “it’s not.”

“oh what the?” you paused, a little puzzled. “where did it come from?”

“juno.” he snickered. “the old hag said it fit how bizarre and stupid i was, so she put it in my contract.”

“oh my fucking god.” you mumbled. “why the hell would she do that? that’s cruel… you’ve already paid the price for what you did the least she could do is address you by your given name.”

beetlejuice laughed cutely, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you.

“that woman doesn’t care baby… so don’t sweat it.” he lifted a hand and ruffled your hair. “and if you ask me, she needs to retire immediately. like— yesterday. all she does is fucking nag at me and the rest of her damn clients.”

you giggled.

“so what’s your name then?”

“not important! now i say we figure out a way to get out of this rinky dink model—”

your eyes narrowed.

“why won’t you tell me your name?”

“—or maybe we should just stay and make ourselves at home!—”

“you won’t tell your soon to be wife your name?—”

“—oh! oh! i can manifest a little jacuzzi in the middle of the cemetery that’s neat—”

you slapped a hand over his mouth and he stopped, your pleading little eyes making him guiltily melt against your hold.

“your name.” you urged softly, lowering your hand and revealing a little frown that he had on his lips. “please.”

“i—” he blinked, utterly remorseful. “i can’t… i can’t tell you my name.”

your brows pinched. “why not? is part of your contract?”

“no— well yes.” he sighed deeply through his nose, and you wondered why he looked so… strained.

“it’s not their contract, but my contract… with you.”

you froze.

“with—” you struggled. “i don’t—”

he rubbed his tired sunken eyes.

“it’s okay sweets but that’s all you need to know—”

“no.” you replied firmly. “what i need to know is your name.”

he dropped his arms and shook his head desperately. “y/n please i put that contract on you to protect you if— if i tell you my name you’ll be hurt and i don’t want that—”

“what do you mean?” you bitterly scooched away from him on the bench and he stubbornly moved closer, eliminating the distance you had created.

“i lied when you asked me if we had met.”

your heart dropped.

“because we have… and i— i wanted you to forget me so i took away your memories and if i tell you my name—”

he swallowed hard.

“… it’ll break the contract. and you’ll remember me again.”

you stared at him, his regretful tortured gaze so anguishing that it was almost unbearable to watch him endure it, wanting to mend it instead, something that already felt so right and easy to you and in no way shape or form unfamiliar.

slowly, you reached up and cupped his cold cheeks in your hands, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

“but i want to remember you…” you murmured. “…please let me.”

his pupils worriedly shook as they darted all around your striking features, his name practically hanging off the edge of his tongue but his throat physically unable to get the words out, for his dead heart was pulling and fighting with his vocal chords to prevent him from doing so, everything within him wanting to save you from memories he had to live with even after death.

but the other part of him was filled with such intense longing for you that it effortlessly slipped between the cracks of his defensive wall of not telling you his name…the relentless feeling going straight to his heart and mind and strangling the fuck out of it to get a formidable yes instead.

he wanted the life he once had. more than anything.

“satoru.”

something snapped in your brain and you flinched back, memories flooding through your mind faster than the speed of light as you recollected each and every moment in your existence, for the sentiment of vacancy and like a specific thing was just missing in your life was finally put back in its rightful place— for the thing that was missing in particular was him.

satoru gojo.

there were images of meeting him when you were both itty bitty in middle school under a magnolia tree, him sporadic and silly and making you laugh so hard on the third day of school that strawberry milk blew out of your nose and all over his clothes, satoru not having a care in the world as he cackled along with you and thought the way you made liquid come out of your nose was cool.

and there were images of the both of you becoming the best of friends— never one without the other as you pulled pranks on your teachers and ended up in detention together almost everyday, your parents utterly done with you as you never seemed to get it through your head how to behave, the both of you brushing off your scoldings and lectures because you had each other to endure all of it with.

and you saw how much he cared about you.

how he would physically fight and yell and reprimand anyone who called you a freak, anyone who spread rumors about you and your psychic medium abilities as he constantly reminded you everyday that your gift was sacred… a treasure while he wiped your tear stained cheeks and cheered you up after another day of your classmates poking fun at you, him saying that your skills were the coolest and how much he wished he was just like you, how much you both were meant to be as he loved ghost stories and scary stuff.

you saw how you fell in love too.

and it didn’t take long either, as your stolen glances and teasing turned into much more as soon as you grew and went to high school together, the both of you making it official literally your freshman year despite the apprehensions from your parents on both sides because of how young you were.

but it never proved to be an issue, you and satoru not once stumbling over a hiccup since the two of you had built such a strong foundation of genuine friendship and care before you blessedly fell in love, satoru throughout your years together absolutely smitten over you as he always passed you silly notes during class that had a gazillion hearts scribbled all across with your name in the middle, telling you all of the time just how much he loved and cherished you to the point where you had to funnily push him away from you to get him to stop smothering you, you always giving in anyways due to the fact that you were just as smitten, physically unable to go a day without him, and him still physically unable to not iterate how you were meant to be.

satoru understood you, satoru listened to you, and satoru believed you whenever you would speak on your psychic gift and how you had spoken casually to a spirit just the other day, him always interested and unbelievably amazed at everything you had to say as he bombarded you with fifty questions and begged you to teach him how to see spirits too.

he was respectful and supportive of you through it all.

especially when your parents died.

satoru wouldn’t leave your side. he refused to as you tried to piece together what the fuck had just happened, their accident so sudden and weird that it never made sense to you and still didn’t to this day.

and you grieved of course, cried and weeped and clung to satoru like a moth to a flame, feeling alone and without your biggest support system— without your loving peculiar parents that gave you your priceless gift in the first place, him accepting your tears with open arms as he encouraged you to let it all out and was worried for you when it seemed like you had moved on rather quickly from it.

but it was simply because your parents weren’t afraid of the afterlife. it was because your parents had talked so much about it and taught you everything that they knew, that you were convinced their souls peacefully made it through to the great beyond straight away and together, for you never saw their spirits roaming around aimlessly after and feeling eternally grateful for that, your whole life being about acknowledging and embracing the mysteries of life after death.

the knowledge of knowing they were at peace was enough to get you by for a little while.

satoru continued to check in on you about it though... even when it was the end of your junior year and nearing a year since their passing, his parents kindly taking you in after the ordeal and making satoru sleep on the floor and you taking over his bed since they didn’t have an extra room, satoru doing it without even needing to be told and you thanking all of them any chance you got for their amicable kindness and tried to pay them back, satoru checking in on you every night with a series of timid ‘are you okay’s’ and ‘are you happy’s’ before going to bed, your arm dangling off the edge so you could intertwine your fingers while you slept.

you were never alone like you thought you were. ever.

because of satoru.

and he made it obvious that he wanted to marry you too, that he wanted to have you for the rest of his life and didn’t give a single shit if you were both only 18 and barely starting college, him deeming it pointless for the both of you to pretend like the hope of marriage wasn’t there just for the sake of shutting up his parents, as every time he brought it up you stammered and blushed and fidgeted and he only giggled at you, telling you it would happen soon, to be ready, and to sit pretty and patient until the right time came.

except it never did.

because satoru gojo died a year later following that on halloween, precisely on his way over to your dorm when he was snatched by an unknown man and murdered in the middle of the night, you stuck wondering what had happened to him and why he wasn’t answering the phone when he was hours late to come get you, your chest on fire and aching as the feeling in your gut was weirdly excruciating, a part of you completely torn away and lost and you had no idea why until the very next morning.

and he had to watch you mourn. properly this time and not at all like the way you did for your parents, as this time it was fucking worse, painfully and all alone and for no way for him to get to you and comfort you— to tell you it was okay to cry and that he loved you, to tell you to be happy, to be hopeful for the future and hopeful to the thought of spending the rest of your lives together and being meant to be.

but instead he had to watch you wail and scream in your pillow every night with no saving, clutching his clothes and things and picture frames, you making yourself sick as the grief was too much to bare— everything that your parents had said to you and taught you about the afterlife meaning absolutely jack shit as the workings of supposed fate took away the only thing that ever made you happy.

satoru’s dream was to live with you. and it was taken away from him so brutally that he went absolutely nuts in the netherworld.

because yes he violated every single fucking undead law in the book and jumped over restricted gates and strange passage ways and doors, shoved through emotionless security guards, ignored juno’s warnings, and yes he tricked a living human being so he could exchange souls with him—

all for the sole purpose of getting back to you.

it was always for you.

and now, him sitting next to you with an anxious waiting expression, your body and mind now feeling the effects of not having seen him for three entire years and the way your conscious mind grieved for him and his return, his skin sickishly pale and cold but still so handsome nonetheless… absolutely broke you.

it broke you as you let out a strangled hiccup and covered your mouth tightly with both hands, eyes squeezing painfully shut as you reeled over and wailed with a broken heart, for you were mourning the loss of him all over again.

“baby no please—” he quickly caught you and brought you to his chest, his breathing erratic and with the biggest lump in his throat. “see? i didn’t want you to remember i— i wanted you to forget—

you continued to bawl and borderline scream out in agony, his words meaning absolutely nothing at this moment as your mind wouldn’t quit flashing painful memories through your mind, memories that were once entirely missing as they suffocated you with displays of satoru in his grave over and over and over again.

“i can’t—” he frantically looked around for something, anything that would make you feel better before looking back down. “look at me—”

“why did you leave?!” you wailed, pushing him away as the sight of you drowning in your tears ripped him to shreds. “why did you abandon me toru?! why did you—”

“i’m sor—” his voice gave out and he placed a hand over his heart, tears slipping from his eyes. “i’m sorry i’m so sorry i— i never wanted to leave—”

he reached out and tugged you in again, your body slumping against his as he struggled over his sobs.

“i didn’t want to die i tried so hard not to die—”

his words only made you cry harder as he gripped you tighter and shut his mouth, his frame trembling against yours and his tears trickling down and wetting your hair.

“you left me! you were supposed to come— hic— to come get me! you were supposed to marry me!—”

you were babbling mindlessly at this point, your shattered heart taking over the words that were tumbling out of your mouth as you gripped and clawed at his suit, trying to bury yourself in his skin and stay there where you belonged.

he was too cold. and you couldn’t hear a heart beat.

satoru could only cry and bawl with you as he gently rocked you side to side, knowing that there was nothing he could do to make you feel better, and nothing he could do to come back to life.

no matter how much he wanted it.

no matter how much you wanted it.

this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

“i tried so hard.” he mumbled. “i never stopped trying to get to you that’s why juno hates me so much because i’ve violated fucking everything.”

he pressed his lips to your forehead and laid his cheek on it after.

“i got sent to the attic and i couldn’t look after you anymore and i didn’t even get the chance to let you see me either—”

besides the fact that he took your memories, that explained why you never saw his spirit after he died, and you quickly pulled back again and narrowed your bloodshot eyes at him.

“why did you take my memories i never— hic!— i never asked you to i never wanted—”

“because i didn’t want you to grieve over me pretty…” he gently wiped your cheeks while you cried. “you were hurting so much and it was torture watching you suffer like that.”

you sniffled and wiped your eyes with the base of your palm.

“i wanted to see you happy…” satoru finished off.

“was i?”

he dropped his hands and frowned.

“were you?”

“no!” you muttered. “my entire life i’ve felt like something was missing and i didn’t know why… like this— this block in my brain that i couldn’t figure out and it was always just empty and like something was supposed to be there.”

you tucked your hair behind your ear and solemnly looked down, a pulsing headache racking through you from how much you were crying.

“i had to live with the fact that i was alone and that i never had anyone… and i had accepted that too… only this entire time i did have someone. you.”

and oddly enough, through everything that happened— all of the memories that you now remembered and the devastating death of your late boyfriend, you finally felt a little bit less strange and unusual.

because you always thought that something was wrong with you for feeling the way that you did, for craving something— someone that never existed, for wanting to fill the void that you now know satoru once happily sat in, all of these things now officially clicking into place and bringing you the weirdest sense of peace you had probably ever felt.

“i wish you never made me forget.” you mumbled. “you’re worth remembering toru…. even if it hurts me.”

he guiltily nodded and sniffed. “m’sorry… i thought you were better off forgetting.”

a part of him still does, because the small glimpses he caught of you no longer crying and just simply living after he took your memories away, was enough to bring him a tiny sense of relief just before he got banished to the attic, hopeful that you would live a long and happy life even if it was painfully without him.

but the minute he sensed you coming up to the house earlier that night with him thinking he was going absolutely insane and if it was truly you, was also enough to send all of that out the fucking window and falling back into a pit of despair and longing for you when he finally saw you again— for the first time in three years, looking just as pretty as he remembered and a little more grown up.

you slowly shook your head side to side, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck and him immediately responding, snaking them around your waist and pulling your warm beating body flush against his chest.

“do you still love me?” he murmured. “even though i’m dead?”

you slightly snorted, softly kissing his cheek.

“i’ll always love you toru. wherever you are.”

“i’ll always love you.”

he pulled back and gently smiled, eyes flickering to your soft lips as he juggled in his mind if it was okay to kiss you, every fiber of his undead being begging for it after missing and wishing it for so long, left with only recollections of your kisses to suffice through the years that he spent without you and wondering if he still had the right to— since even though you were once his, and he shamelessly still considered you his, he didn’t know if you were on the same page.

but you were.

it would be stupid not to be.

you leaned your pretty little face closer to his, timid doe eyed gaze looking at him so fondly that it brought back that same familiar feeling he felt with you those years ago, his hands coming up and settling themselves on your warm lively cheeks, holding you like fragile porcelain.

but were his dead lips still worthy of yours? even after everything he’d done?

“toru.”

he hummed.

“do you remember our first kiss?”

“uh huh.” he breathed out softly. “it was in my room.”

“i think—” your nose brushed with his. “i think we should have our second first kiss.”

he bit his bottom lip and smiled.

“you think so?”

“i do.”

he hummed again, his thumb gently grazing over your plushy lips.

“i think it should look a little more like the first time.”

he tilted his head to the side a tiny bit and a delicate gust of wind brushed through your hair, your surroundings now completely and miraculously morphed into his room with the both of you sitting on his bed— just like how you remembered it and basically had grown up in as you slowly took in your surroundings.

“how the fuck—”

he laughed a little, lifting one hand and keeping the other still on your cheek, his index finger lightly tapping the center of your forehead.

“mind manipulation pretty.” he grinned. “cool huh? i poked in your head again.”

“yeah!” you giggled. “very cool.”

“you know what else would be cool?”

“what?”

“if you gave me a little kiss.”

you tilted your head to the side and leaned in again, your breath fanning across his face and your lips so close but not quite that it was fucking excruciating.

“you want a kiss toru?”

“uh huh.”

“how bad— mmph!—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish that sentence as he stuffed his tongue in your mouth greedily, wet and messy kisses smacking through the room as he cradled your jaw, cold lips delving all over yours and him giddy over the sensation of your warm mouth in comparison to his, your hands clutching his blazer and making out so sensually as you made up for the time that was stolen from you.

and the only thing the two of you felt in each others arms then was serenity— one pumping, working heart and the other stiff, unmoving and cold, still equally beating for one another even through the restrictions of death, for satoru’s heart continued to move and love you regardless of how lifeless it may have appeared.

he suddenly pulled away, breathless.

“sweets?”

“yeah?”

“where in the actual fuck did you meet rin?”

you laughed, pulling back a bit to look at him with a regretful look. “knowing what i know now, i’m sick to my stomach toru.”

“did you meet him after i died?”

you nodded. “he was in one of my literature classes… and since back then i only remembered living my life— alone, i guess he was the first person that didn’t make me feel that way. at the start.”

“lame.” he mumbled. “you cheated on me sweets.”

“no!” you laughed again, giving him a little pout. “he was awful. horrendous. and i only stayed because i didn’t wanna be alone again… even though i shouldn’t have.”

you leaned and gave him a soft tiny lingering peck.

“did you love him?” he murmured against your lips, and you shook your head.

“remembering you again made me realize what being in love with someone was supposed to feel like.” you reached and brushed through the front stands of his white hair mindlessly. “and it was no where near what i felt for rin. i didn’t feel anything for him actually.”

he pursed his lips to the side, eyes squinting in thought and distaste.

“hmmm…”

you giggled. “what toru?”

he hated that you got associated with a guy like that, and hated even more that rin was kissing and hugging and touching you whenever the fuck he wanted when you were his first.

“i’m gonna haunt him for the rest of his life.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and nudged him. “honestly? do it. he sucks.”

“and you know what else sweets?”

you quirked a little brow. “what?”

“i’m gonna make you forget!”

“toru!” you giggled. “no more taking memor—“

satoru leaned his face closer to yours and you froze up, wide eyed as a little mischevious glint in his vibrant blue gaze made you fidget.

he slowly grinned and tilted his head, lips coming closer to the side of your ear and tantalizingly hovering, arms snaking around your torso and pulling you up against him.

“did you let him touch you pretty?”

“t—touch?—”

“mhm.” he gripped you a little tighter. “did you?”

“um.” you squirmed a bit, your body turning hot in the matter of seconds. “what— what do you mean—”

“did you let him fuck you.”

your breath hitched and your cheeks went pink, hands timidly resting flat on his chest and feeling a little… guilty.

“maybe—” you paused, shaky breaths blowing through your nose. “maybe once—”

satoru shot up to stand and hauled you with him, a squeal slipping past your lips as he hiked you up and brought your legs around his waist, walking across the room in quick strides and plopping you down roughly on his desk, kicking away his chair and it slamming against the wall as it rolled back.

“toru?—”

“why can’t i make you forget… hm?” he grazed his lips from your jaw and up the side of your cheek, feather like as he squeezed and kneaded at your thighs, your heart fucking hammering against your chest.

“why would you wanna remember being with someone else other than me baby…”

“i— i don’t but you erased my memories—”

he pulled back and tutted, head shaking and fingers drumming against your thighs. “doesn’t matter! should’ve avoided them like the plague silly.”

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him gently in.

“i would’ve if i remembered.”

“remember this remember that—” he smiled brightly and brought his face close to yours once more.

“y’know what?” he cutely pecked your lips. “i’m gonna help you remember something!”

your brows pinched momentarily in curiosity. “what?”

“that i’m the only man that ever gets to fuck you.”

satoru smashed his lips against yours and pulled you in tight, the bulge in his dress pants abundantly obvious as he grinded and rutted his aching cock on your clothed pussy, you gasping in his mouth at the feeling as you tried to keep up with his feverish fast kisses.

he slipped his icy hands underneath your top and you jumped at the change in temperature, satoru ravishing you up and obsessed with the heat your body produced and radiated, leaving him toasty for once and bringing a faux sense of life to him.

“did you forget that too?” he murmured against your lips, hands ever so slowly creeping up and sliding under your bra to grope your plump tits. “how i feel?”

“nuh uh.” you breathed out. “i didn’t—”

“tell me what you remember then sweets…”

he slid his hands back down and hiked your skirt up, you lifting your hips a little to help him bring it up as high as he possibly could, your pretty little panties tight and suffocating your pussy as his fingers came down to play with your swollen needy clit.

“i remember—” your mouth hung open, words lodging in your throat.

“hm?” he shoved his hand in your panties and your eyes fluttered closed, him placing open wet mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, your mind unable to grasp the amount of pleasure he was getting out with simply just his fingers, pleasure you missed so fucking badly as he slipped his digits up and down your folds.

“your dick—” satoru pushed two fingers inside of you and you whined. “i remember the way you felt.”

“yeah?” he pulled back from your chest and grinned, fingers squelching as they pumped in and out. “and how did i feel?”

“big.” you choked out, legs spreading wider as you gripped the edge of his desk, his frenzied lust filled eyes drinking in the way you unraveled and crumbled before him.

something he was positive rin didn’t even come fucking close to.

“aww.” he cooed, digits speeding up as you squealed and tried to close your legs, him prying them open again. “bet you missed the way i filled you full huh? stretched you out so good?”

you rapidly nodded, eyebrows contorted in ecstasy as your thighs shook.

“anything else you missed baby?”

arousal trickled down your folds at this point, making an absolute mess out of his fingers.

“your hands— heave— on my neck when you’d fuck me—”

a shiver ran down his spine at your words, his cock so fucking hard and aching as it begged him to let it spring free and bury itself in your hole.

“my god…” he whispered. “i bet your slutty little self wants me to fuck you right now right? stuff you up and make you cum on my dick like i used to?”

with each word your hole was clenching and screaming for his cock, your hands quickly shooting out to pull and unbuckle at his belt, him laughing as he continued to finger your pussy while loosening up the collar of his tie.

“you’re so needy.”

you pouted, embarrassed as you pulled your hands away and brattily tugged at his wrist to take his fingers out.

“i take it back—”

“no!” he quickly yanked his belt off and flung it, his fingers unzipping his pants and taking out his solid dick. “hell no please i need to be inside you—“

he lined his cock up and without warning pushed, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for support and crying out at the mere size of him, his dick icy in between your gummy walls that somehow added a whole new wave of pleasure for you.

“hard toru.” you whined. “please i can’t— i—”

“i know baby i know.” he gripped your hips and snapped his hips up, your moans fueling him as he plunged in your hole and took no time in fucking you in just the way he knew you liked it, proud of the fact that your pussy still took every single inch of him like he’d trained you— almost like she recognized whose dick was actually for you and not some other fucking morons.

“you’re not screwing anybody else anymore, you hear me sweets?” he tapped your cheek to get you to look at him, you completely dazed and fucked out as you tried to hold eye contact with him amidst his drilling cock. “should’ve only been me… living or dead i don’t care.”

you nodded dumbly, you leaning and kissing him sloppily and desperately that you muffled his next words, refusing to detach from his mouth.

“did you— mmph— let him cum inside?”

you didn’t answer, not because you were afraid to, but because his dick was silencing you as you hiccuped and spasmed with every slam of his hips, satoru a horny goner and pinning everything all on you even when it was literally his fault he erased your memories in the first place, fuming over the thought of you tainted by another man that he wanted to perform a full fucking cleanse.

he rammed inside of you faster against the desk as you separated from his lips and clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“don’t tell me you let him cum inside you little slut—”

“i didn’t!” you heaved. “i didn’t i didn’t—”

“good baby!” he cheered, a complete contrast to his menacing tone from seconds before. “so you do love me.”

“i do! i love you i love you i love yo—”

his unbeating heart soared.

“you love me?”

“uh— hic!— uh huh—“

“even when i’m dead?”

you nodded vigorously, feeling your orgasm starting to bubble up in your tummy as you choked and squirmed.

“perfect my sweet little thing…” he cooed once more, him literally lightheaded over the way you clenched around his cock. “make a mess all over me baby i’ve been dreaming of your cute cunt for three fucking years—”

you wrapped your arms around him by the neck again and moaned, burying your face in his neck as he placed two palms on your bent knees and spread your plushy thighs further apart, jack hammering you and so mean about it as you shook violently against him and came, heaves and sobs of pleasure racking through your body as he threw his head back and groaned.

“you want me to cum inside you?” he asked. “fill you up just like i used to?”

“yes! please please—”

“oh fucking well.”

he pulled out of you and your eyes bulged open, his dick shiny and covered in your juices as he grabbed your upper arm and yanked you down on your knees.

“you’re gonna suck me off and swallow what i give you for letting rin’s filthy hands on you.”

satoru tapped his dick against your cheek to get you to open up, you listening and opening your mouth as he shoved his cock inside and placed a hand on the back of your head, fucking your mouth as you choked and gagged on his length and loving every second of it.

“goooddd baby.” he whispered, your slobbering so nasty as he watched drool dribble down your chin. “so good…”

you gulped him down and lathered your tongue around while he used you, his balls swollen and twitching and him needing to dump his cum in your mouth for you to swallow.

“remember when we used to do this every night?” he smiled wickedly. “when i’d make you swallow me up?”

you hummed around him and tried to nod, eager for his release and wanting to show him that you in fact did remember— wanting it just as bad as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him harder.

“h— oh my god—” he fisted your hair and shivered, letting you take over and milk him for all his worth. “i’m gonna— jesus baby slow— slow down slow down— hah!”

satoru’s release shot to the back of your throat and you choked, blinking back tears as you gradually slowed your pace and continued to deliciously suck him through his orgasm and gulp down his cum, him with a death grip on the edge of his desk as he heaved and swallowed, hips jittery and twitching away from you— tip now overly sensitive.

you licked up the last of his cum and stood back up, shimming your skirt back down and satoru shakily stuffing his softened dick back in his pants and zipping it, eyes softening once you reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his over your waist and squeezing you gently.

“so you’re telling me.” you began. “that you haven’t had sex in three years and you fucked me like that?”

he snickered and smoothed a hand over your back. “it’s my instinct sweets! and also because i’m sure rin did a horrendous freaking job—”

you laughed and rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek before looking at him fully.

“i’m serious you know.”

he raised a brow. “about what?”

“about marrying you. even more so now.”

and just when he was about to pick you up and spin you around and jump up and down, he stilled— face sickishly paling more than it already was.

because satoru was keeping something else from you… a condition between the living and the dead and one he overlooked entirely because he was selfishly desperate for you and just wanted you with him again, like the way he had you when he was alive.

“what toru?”

“huh?” his eyes snapped to yours, and he quickly shook his head. “oh nothing nothing!”

his mind was frantically pushing it to the back, ignoring it and wanting to go through with the one thing he’d practically been dreaming of his entire living and dead life— marriage with you.

this was fine. this was okay.

right?

“white or black.”

you tilted your head. “what?”

“you’ll see… but choose!” he grinned. “white or black?”

a slow giddy smile grew on your face.

“black.”

satoru waved his hand and you stilled, the clothes on your skin changing and morphing into something completely anew, your eyes landing on his black and white button up suit now and head quickly dropping down to yourself— gasping once it registered in your flabbergasted brain.

you were wearing a black wedding gown, beautiful and classy as you picked up and felt the soft silk material between your fingertips, your tule sheer veil intricate as you looked behind you then— it long and stretching for what seemed like miles across the floor with gorgeous embroidery at the base of it.

it was heavenly.

your gaze snapped back to his, and he smiled fondly, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers.

“three times.” he murmured, and you picked up on what he was referring to, tightening your grip on his hand and nodding.

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice.”

and the room spun around you, so astronomically fast that you almost doubled over in stifling nausea as the wind whipped through your hair and veil, expecting to land in the attic and finally outside that damn model when in reality, you were in a church cathedral as soon as your surroundings had stopped spinning… and one that looked exactly like the one in winter river.

“are we…” you looked around. “are we still in the model?”

he shook his head. “nope! i was focusing my mind here when you were saying my name… we’re in winter river baby.”

you smiled, the atmosphere around you soft and serene as the dimly lit candles around you quietly flickered, a random lilac colored hue across the cathedral and one you assumed was placed by satoru himself as he took your hands in his, almost in a haste too, but choosing to brush the observation aside.

this was wrong… and satoru knew it.

but he pushed it to the back of his head again.

“we are gathered here today—”

“shit!”

you jumped and whipped your head to the side, breathing out and shoulders relaxing once you saw it was just your church’s pastor that you’d known since birth— a strange far off look in his eye that you deemed to be something that satoru did, for there was no way he was up at the crack of fucking dawn right now to do a wedding.

“sorry!” you laughed. “is he… is he okay?”

“oh yeah he’s fine! he’s actually still sleeping.” he let go of one of your hands and patted the pastors head. “i’m manipulating his head for a little bit. just until you’re my wife.”

his wife.

you nodded, cheeks so warm as you tried to refrain from jumping over how excited you were at the thought of finally fulfilling the vows you had placed on each other when you were young— them now nurturing into something real.

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the love of satoru gojo and y/n y/m in holy matrimony.”

he shouldn’t do this to you.

“today, they declare their intention to build a life together, sharing their joys and their challenges, and supporting one another in pursuit of their dreams.”

he can’t— he can’t build a life with you… can he?

he pushed his worries back again and gripped your hands tighter.

“do you, satoru gojo, take y/n y/m to be your lawfully wedded wife? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

this is wrong.

but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“i do.”

“and do you, y/n y/m, take satoru gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

for as long as you both shall live.

satoru can’t live.

“i d—”

“stop.”

you froze.

“what?” you asked worriedly. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m no better than the man i was when i first died.”

the look in his eyes was… odd, and it only further confused you.

“i don’t—”

“i can’t let you marry me baby.”

your heart dropped.

“what?”

“i told you that if you married me it would break my contract and i would be a free man and that’s true…” he began. “but there’s something else that i didn’t tell you... i— i kept it from you.”

oh fuck.

“what are you talking about toru.” your voice was low and heedful, almost like a warning to him, and he wanted to slam his head against the wall for being so fucking reckless again.

“if you—” he breathed in and shook his head, letting go of your hands and letting his fall tight at his sides, balling up. “if you marry me, you’re freeing me…”

he gnawed at his lip.

“but i’m killing you.”

your blood ran cold and drained from your face, words entirely at a loss and useless as your brain tried to process what the fuck he just told you.

kill you?

“marrying me is like exchanging your soul with the dead.” satoru slowly shook his head. “you’ll die sweets… i can’t— i can’t do that to you.”

satoru was desperate to for you, so much so that he was willing to hide such a detrimental part of the marriage clause until the time came, choosing to play freaking stupid and tune it out in the hopes that in the end, he would be brave enough to go through with it just to keep you and not ever have to say goodbye again.

but it was wrong. so incredibly immoral and wrong and he felt like a monster for even trying to do it, for letting it go as far as it did and have you standing there in front of him in your pretty gown and veil— just like how he’d imagined it when his blood was pumping and his heart was beating, and just like how he’d imagined it even now, shriveled up dead veins and all.

this is what fate had chosen for the two of you.

and though it took forever for satoru to accept it… you and him were simply not meant to be.

for you were meant to live, and satoru was meant to die.

“you disgraceful bafoon! you insolent crook!”

the big doors of the cathedral kicked open and juno walked through, adam and barbara maitland running behind her and trying to pull her back, the both of them spouting reasonings and explanations.

“this is her choice juno!—”

“she wants to let her do it!—”

“the kid’s just in love!—”

“button it or i’m sending you back to the house!” juno grumbled at them, turning back around and pointing menacingly at satoru once she reached you both, her brittle old lady perfume wafting in your nostrils.

“juno!” satoru greeted with faux cheerfulness, eyes wide and alarmed. “good to see you hah! you look livelier than the last time i saw y—”

“what the hell do you think you’re doing boy?” she spat, eyes switching to you next. “and you! young lady— this man is a spirit!”

“i—i know—”

“juno they know each other.” barbara spoke up gently. “they grew up together when he was alive.”

“yes they were in a relationship this isn’t him trying to trick her into anything—”

“no but it is.” satoru exhaustedly whined, cutting adam off as he ran his hands through his snowy hair. “she didn’t know about the clause… i just told her now.”

silence.

“you didn’t tell her about the clause?!—”

“are you out of your mind you cockroach?!—”

“you’re doing what you did before!—”

“i know!” satoru exclaimed over the yells of scolding and belittlement. “i know i know that’s why i told her just now… i’m not letting her do it i— i couldn’t.”

he turned to you.

“baby i want you. i need you and that’s why i didn’t say anything like a fucking dingbat because i’m tired of living forever without you... it sucks.”

you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

“but this isn’t fair to you at all. you deserve to live man… i can’t— i won’t drag you down with me.”

“toru—”

“the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” juno interjected, her gaze looking at satoru sincerely for once that it was a strange sight for him.

she placed a hand on her chest. “i’m sorry that your love was separated by death, truly. i sympathize with you. i can’t think of anything more cruel.”

you both solemnly nodded.

“but the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” she repeated. “so even though you two move on from this and go back to being what you are, satoru will stay like this and you will not. you will grow.”

juno addressed you directly and you listened with a heavy heart— the use of satoru’s actual given name now from her instead of ‘beetlejuice’ adding a layer of somber seriousness.

“and let’s just say this clause didn’t exist and you get to marry her and she stays alive… satoru will still stay and you will grow. do you both understand what i’m trying to say?”

you quickly wiped the corner of your eyes, satoru peeking over at you sadly.

“i won’t tell you what i think the right choice is young lady.” she continued. “the dead aren’t even supposed to associate with the living like this… but weigh the consequences of either path and see which one you want to walk in.”

she stepped a bit closer, holding eye contact with you.

“but let me make one thing clear— the power of the living is greater than the dead. if you choose to marry him, you will break his contract forever and free him of his violations. but if you do, you will die and be one of us.”

either path is difficult.

to sacrifice his freedom, or to sacrifice your life?

but you knew that a life without satoru was nothing and bleak…. you had lived it for three years.

were you willing to return to that? just to keep your heart beating? and say goodbye to satoru for good?

you didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have him in it. you didn’t want to live in a world where you remembered satoru for longer than you’d known him, and the thought only made you absolutely sick to your stomach as you envisioned the rest of your life without the person who knew you best.

it was almost easy… you didn’t have to weigh the consequences at all.

your path was satoru.

“we’re getting married.”

“what?!” satoru frantically shook his head. “no sweets no we’re not.”

“yes we are.” you pushed. “this isn’t for you to decide it’s my choice and i choose you—”

“and i’m not letting you.” he countered. “you’re choosing wrong so unbelievably wrong—”

“but i’m not though!” you argued. “literally explain to me right now how me stuck in a world that doesn’t have you in it is better than—”

“y/n you need to live.” he cut you off. “i died, not you it’s not supposed to be you alright? i can’t to let you do this.”

tears slipped from your eyes and you wiped them right away.

“do you not— sniff— do you not want me do you want me to go away what—”

“no…” he stepped forward and cupped your cheeks. “that’s the last thing i want and you know that…”

“then why won’t you marry me?” you hiccuped. “why won’t you let me stay with you?”

“baby— life is so unbelievably precious.” he moved strands of your hair away from your face. “do you have any idea what i would give to have it again? to feel my body actually working for a change instead of it just being nothing?”

you continued to cry, your hands clutching his wrists.

“i don’t want you to take that away from yourself because of me… i want you breathing. i want your little heart pumping and your cheeks warm, i want you to move on.”

“i— hic!— i don’t want to move on from you—”

“you have to sweets.” he quickly wiped his eyes before cupping your cheeks again. “we’re not meant to be baby and i hate so much that we aren’t… and i’m sorry.”

“toru stop it—”

“please live for me okay? for the both of us. and don’t forget me either please don’t forget me—”

“why are you—” you harshly wiped your eyes. “why are you talking like that what are you doing—”

“i don’t think i should be around you anymore baby.”

“huh?!” your eyes narrowed. “are you serious?”

“satoru—”

juno raised a hand, stopping barbara from interjecting.

“it won’t be good for either of us if i stick around...” he sniffled. “i need to stay away from you because if i don’t, i might try to trick you again into giving up your soul and i can’t have that.”

“my soul?” you spat. “take it i don’t want it without you i told you already—”

“please try to understand.” he placed a soft kiss to your forehead. “please.”

“no—”

“i’ll see you soon okay?” satoru let go of your face. “graduate please. have kids and get married and stuff… travel.”

you were supposed to do all of that with him.

“satoru no listen to me!—”

“i love you.”

“stop!—”

satoru’s grief was monumental, but his love for you was greater, choosing to let you go for the sake of your life.

he looked to juno and she sighed through her nose, somehow knowing exactly what he was silently asking for, stepping forward and lifting a hand.

“satoru please i wanna stay with you!—”

juno sharply moved her hand to the side and you were pulled to a blinding white abyss, dream like and fuzzy as you felt all muscles in your body relax, your mind completely blank and free of the heartbreak and loss and sorrow for a little, floating through a cloud of soft serenity as it brought you in and tried to clear the pain in your heart.

you weren’t aware of where you were or what juno had done, but your thoughts were distant and muffled as you let it engulf you entirely in its welcoming arms, you sleepy and drowsy until the blinding white abyss slowly shrunk down to a pure black, quiet void, the nerves in your body twitching little by little until you were finally consciously aware of your limbs and mind, but you too tired still to open your eyes.

you cruelly dreamed of satoru still. of him alive.

and you weren’t sure how long you had been in this weird pit of tranquility, or how long you were asleep for until you were jerked awake and ripped from it entirely.

“hey— y/n?”

you shot awake, sitting up and whipping your head around.

you were back in your dorm.

“are you okay? why are you sleeping on the floor?”

you looked up, your roommate standing there with a weirded out expression.

“and what are you wearing?”

your gaze shifted downward, and the minute you saw your black wedding dress and veil folded neatly next to you, memories of what had happened hours prior came achingly flooding in as you scrambled to stand up on your feet, scaring your roommate and leaving her to grumble in her head about how she wished the system didn’t put her to room with the campus ghost girl.

“sorry! i have to go thank you though for waking me u—”

your voice trailed off down the hall, you running through and ignoring the weirded out looks from other students as you sprinted out of the building and down the street, engulfing the skirt of your gown up in your arms so you wouldn’t accidentally trip over it and eat shit on the ground, the goal of getting back to the maitland’s house the only thing on your mind as you ran.

your lungs burned by the time you got to the bottom of the hill, and you thanked anyone that was willing to listen for allowing winter river to exist as the smallest town you had ever known, sparing you from running a full fledged marathon just to get to the house as you heaved and tried to catch your breath, a little sweaty and hot as you began the hike up the hill.

you hoped he was there.. in the attic.

you hoped to god that he was.

reaching the top, you continued to trudge across the dirt driveway and up the porch steps, your foot lifting and just about to make contact with the old wooden platform until an invisible force grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, literally dragging you away from the house and down the hill over the grass as you screamed and thrashed for it to let you go.

satoru.

and you tried again, hiking up the hill with your bundled up wedding skirt in your arms, reaching the top faster than last time and choosing to run up the porch steps instead to see if you could outrun his ghostly abilities.

except you couldn’t, because the invisible force caught you by the ankle again just as your fingers grazed the doorknob, yanking you away and down the hill until it left you screaming and huffing in frustration at the bottom.

you continued to do that for the rest of the fucking day, and everyday for that matter, for an entire week straight.

walking up the hill, reaching the top, getting reeled back, running up the hill and getting sent back down again, sprinting for it only to get dragged away once more as the repeated cycle you had set for yourself happened over and over, until by your last attempt you couldn’t even walk up the hill anymore, satoru having put a huge invisible wall around the house that was impossible to get through.

you were angry. angry and bitter that he was doing this.

was it so bad to just want to spend the rest of your undying life with him? is that not what he wanted this entire time? why was he so adamant on damning you to live a life of suffering and— and loneliness? a life without him?

you didn’t know what to do. your psychic abilities were only for sensing the dead and being able to see them— nothing to do with calling forth spirits or summoning them at any given place and time, so there was no way for you to call satoru no matter how much you wanted to or tried.

and you cried. you cried and you sobbed just like how you did when he first died, except somehow worse knowing that there was a chance to be together with him forever and him not wanting it… not wanting you.

but you waited anyways, hoping that he would come around and change his mind, that he would bring down that stupid invisible wall and let you inside the house and back to him, counting down the days and hours and minutes until it became clearer to you that satoru wasn’t going to change his mind.

and by the third week, you had almost entirely given up.

you felt nothing. absolutely nothing as you slugged through your classes or your day to day errands, not giving a shit about anything that you had to do in this world for you had always loved the other world more— the world of spirits and the netherworld and the great beyond, the world that had satoru in it, as you appreciated and admired that one more ever since you were a kid with your parents… more than the one you were currently in— as this one was filled with ignorance and criticism.

you felt helpless… and maybe satoru was right.

if he was willing to give up an opportunity to keep you forever, then maybe that’s just the way it goes… maybe you should just accept it, and you choosing to think of the latter instead of begging and kneeling at nothing for satoru to come back and get you and marry you— was helping the bitterness in your heart grow and get you by, it at least stopping you from crying in the middle of your lectures or the grocery store and weirding people out anyways.

maybe you should accept the fact that you and him were not meant to be.

after an entire month, you had given up.

and satoru’s grave was the closest you knew you’d get to him, permanently divided by dirt and soil and grass… six feet under and totally out of your reach, his tombstone engraved and pretty and one you couldn’t believe you had forgotten about as it sat here alone for years right under your nose— you visiting it now for the millionth time as you placed your book bag down and sat criss crossed on the grass, mindlessly tugging and breaking off pieces of it as you sat there.

you sighed deeply and hugged your knees up to your chest, the day surprisingly a sunny one as chirping birds flittered past you through the wind, tiny little white butterflies occasionally stopping by to sit on your arm or satoru’s tombstone as you sat there in thought… not really sure what to think, but comforted by the fact that the engravings on his stone reminded you that he was once very much alive and real.

there was an odd wavering in your heart, and you had a feeling that this was going to be the last time you were visiting his grave, for you figured it was time to finally do what he wanted you to do— move on and forget him.

“don’t move on.”

you stiffened.

that voice… was your mind hallucinating now? jesus chri—

“don’t move on from me please… and— and don’t forget me. i take it all back.”

you heard footsteps draw nearer across the grass and you turned your head, eyes widening and unbelieving as you saw satoru standing there with a pleading anxious expression, him still dressed in his black and white suit that he had on for the wedding.

was it actually him?

“how are you…” you trailed off, your mind having difficulty processing how he was there. “how are you outside the house? i thought the contract—”

“juno gave me a hall pass…” he explained softly. “it expires at the end of the day.”

you hummed, itching to jump up and wrap your arms around him and cling to him, but stopping yourself from doing so as you still didn’t know why he was here, and you were quite frankly still bitter and hurt from him sending you away.

you slightly turned your body. “why are you here?”

“because i can’t stay away from you.”

your heart skipped a beat as he crouched down to your level, your eyes greedily running across every feature of his face and committing it to memory, as you now had him directly in front of you again instead of having to rely on recollections of him to try and mend your aching heart.

and satoru was doing the same.

“i started to sense you distancing from me and… and i had this feeling that you were starting to listen and move on and forget me and it made me fucking ill. which is crazy because i’m dead… but i was literally ill sweets.”

you let a tiny soft smile play at your lips.

“i can’t take it.” he spoke again, shaking his head. “i can’t take the thought of you forgetting me. not now, not ever, and i don’t know why i was stupid enough to try and convince myself that i could watch you do something like that even if its the right thing.”

“you sent me away.”

“i did baby…” he reached over and gently caressed your cheek. “and i regret that so fucking much. i’m sorry.”

“toru i need you to understand that you can’t make choices like that for me.”

“i know.” he mumbled and dropped his hand, eyes casting down. “i’m stupid.”

“but i also need you to understand, that i have no interest in living in a world that doesn’t have you in it… it’s not worth it now that you’re gone.”

you tilted your head to try and catch his gaze, continuing once his blue eyes flickered back to yours.

“i would die for you, and i would die without you. i look for you in everything that i do and you expecting me to just forget you is cruel.”

“no i don’t want you to forget me anym—”

“what’s life to you?” you asked him suddenly. “what does it feel to you? and mean?”

he stared at you with pinched brows, his face endearing but sad all at the same time.

“warm.” he murmured. “beautiful and… pure. it’s peaceful and it means you.”

your heart fluttered and you smiled, and satoru fell in love with you all over again— something you conquered when he was alive, and something you conquered again in death.

“that’s what life is toru.” you cupped his cheek. “to me it’s not— this.”

you gestured around you. “it’s not my body or my heart, it’s not the sun and it’s not breathing. it’s you. i feel life through you and i always have… because life doesn’t literally mean where i am now and neither does it mean the netherworld baby… it means you and me.”

satoru didn’t even realize he was crying until you wiped his cheeks, your words serving an entirely new perspective to him about the living and the dead and he felt peace.

because yes satoru was dead… but he was still living. living because he had you as the embodiment of it, and living because his soul still permitted him to see you again and be with you, to look at you with his own undead eyes and feel warmth like he did before.

but not literal warmth from your body or pumping blood or a beating heart.

but warmth from your soul. from who you are.

that’s what life was to him… and what life was to you.

satoru wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you to his chest, one hand on the back of your head as he cradled you and cried, finally now no longer mourning his past life like he’d been doing for the past three years, and no longer wishing for it back either or thinking that physically living in this world was the better option for you just because it meant you were breathing.

where he was, was just fine. and wherever you chose to go would be fine too.

but you chose to go with him, something that had been set since the moment you met under the magnolia tree back in middle school— living or dead, paris or italy, your choice would always and forever be him.

satoru proposed to you right then and there at his gravesite, flying to one knee as soon as you both stood back up and him manifesting the biggest diamond rock you had ever seen in your life, laughing and crying together as he slipped it over your ring finger, for your marriage meant the binding of the living and the dead, and the binding of you and him— a new beginning.

but this time your wedding wasn’t at the cathedral, but under the pretty magnolia tree where you had met, now accompanied by the maitlands as barbara cried, and juno as she herself officiated the wedding, you thinking— hoping that she grew a soft spot for satoru, and that behind her stern resting face, she was glad satoru was finally a free man and granted a second chance.

giving your soul up was nothing to you, and it didn’t hurt at all either… you feeling lighter in exchange actually… happy, with satoru standing in front of you and with a massive fucking grin on his face, shiny and bright as he practically jumped in his spot in excitement over you finally being his wife and that he got to keep you— and right this time… no lies or tricks or hidden secrets, but genuine authentic sacrifice instead, for it was the purest form of love.

because this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

it had decided that satoru gojo was meant to die… but it had also decided to bring you back to him as well— to the house of the maitlands, to the attic he was banished to, and back together again in each others cold arms where you belonged, defying the laws of the living and the dead and proving that life doesn’t end even after your hearts stopped beating.

fate had decided that you were both meant to be. that was always a fact.

and fate had decided that you and satoru gojo were meant to live, with unbeating hearts and icy cold skin, but souls still warm for each other nonetheless.

because through sickness and in health… death could not do you both apart.

you and satoru.

together for eternity.

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[the-kaedageist]

Americans, we are going to weather this and we are going to still wake up every day and do good. You are not powerless, although I know on today of all days, it feels like it. American democracy is not dismantled yet, even though it feels like that’s a foregone conclusion. Here’s the thing, though: giving into defeat, deciding that everything is so bad that you’re going to avoid doing anything, or posting on the internet about how doomed we all are is just going to turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Take your time to grieve. You do not have to act today. This fight is for the long haul. But then come back, and we’ll do this again. Our systems are not set in stone: Trump has shone a light on that, but he has also shown the weakness of that. The reigns of power have been grabbed, so we must redefine what it means to have power in our country. If you look at history, we have done this over and over and over again. I’ve learned over the past two and a half years from my dear friends in Ukraine that it is critical to find your sources of joy in these times. You MUST find something that brings light to your life. You must continue living. It is a defiant thing, to capture joy in a time of darkness. Don’t forget the power this has.

Spend time with people you love. Take a moment to indulge in something that makes you happy. Get involved in a movement. Start organizing. The system is broken beyond repair, so how do we take the ruins of that and build something new from it? Everything is wrong, but we have built better from catastrophe before. You can still protect the vulnerable. You can still stand up and fight.

I’m so proud of everyone who fought so hard to stave this off. That’s not over just because of this one election.

We cannot give up. That’s all there is to it.

[pandapetals]

You're Too Good for Me

Logan has a nightmare which causes him to spiral thinking you deserve better. He hurts your feelings then tries to make up for it.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

a/n: request from anon and i ran with it. I’m on my period so im emotional. also i think the song head over feet by alanis morissette describes their relationship perfectly.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

Logan hadn’t had a nightmare like this in a long time—dark, violent, pulling him back to places he thought he’d managed to bury. He woke up gasping, drenched in cold sweat, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. He barely registered your hands on his shoulders, your soft voice coaxing him back to reality.

"Logan," you whispered, brushing a hand gently through his hair. "It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here."

As he sat up, breathing ragged, he could feel the old shame tightening in his chest, coiling around his heart like a vise. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to be woken up in the middle of the night to deal with his demons, his scars that never truly healed.

In the dim light, he glanced at you, your concerned eyes, the gentle way you held him as though he were something fragile. Something that needed fixing. And it cut deeper than he expected.

"Go back to sleep," he mumbled, pulling away from your touch, trying to put space between you. "You don’t have to… just go back to bed."

You watched him, hurt flashing across your face before you masked it with understanding like you always did. But that only made it worse. Logan felt like a burden, an anchor holding you down when you could be with someone lighter, someone whole.

It was selfish, he realized bitterly, for him to have married you. To drag you into his darkness, to let you tether yourself to someone so broken. You could have had happiness with someone who didn’t carry the weight of a hundred lifetimes, someone who wouldn’t drag you into his nightmares.

The day that followed was unforgiving. The mansion was chaotic with the energy of kids excited for the upcoming weekend, their laughter and chatter echoing through the halls. Normally, Logan found a certain kind of peace in the routine, in the noise and laughter. He’d steal a moment to find you, just to see the way your eyes lit up when you spotted him across the room, the way you’d smile like he was the best part of your day.

But today, he couldn’t bring himself to look for you. Instead, he kept his distance, trying to hold onto the feeling of solitude he hadn’t felt in so long. He couldn’t shake the gnawing thought that he was ruining your life, that every day you stayed by his side, you were giving up a piece of yourself for someone who didn’t deserve it.

Still, avoiding you completely proved impossible. In the late afternoon, he wandered into the library to drop off a book one of the students had left in his class, and there you were, seated at one of the old wooden tables, a notebook open in front of you, scribbling something with that quiet intensity he loved so much.

As if sensing his presence, you looked up and caught his gaze, breaking into a warm smile. "There you are," you said, your voice light, teasing. "I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all day."

The words hung in the air, playful but carrying an undertone of uncertainty. When Logan didn’t respond, your smile faltered slightly, concern filling your eyes.

"Logan," you started, your tone softening, "what’s going on?"

Logan let out a long sigh, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice gruff, "don’t… don’t try to make me feel better, alright?"

You blinked, taken aback. "I’m not… I don’t even know what’s wrong. I’m just… trying to understand." Your voice wavered, the usual confidence slipping as you searched his face.

He looked down, feeling the weight of his own words pressing on him, but they spilled out anyway, rough and raw. "I don’t know why you stay with me. You’re too good for someone like me."

The hurt in your eyes was immediate and stark, cutting through him like a blade. Usually, you would have brushed off his self-deprecating comments with a witty remark, or maybe a kiss, but this time…the pain was visible.

"Wow, Logan." Your voice was quiet, almost disbelieving. "I guess if you say it enough, maybe I’ll start to believe it."

He felt his heart clench as he watched you, saw the way you pulled back as if shielding yourself from him. Before he could say anything, you’d gathered up your things and walked out, leaving him alone in the library, the silence heavier than any nightmare.

Later that evening, Logan sat in Xavier’s office, staring at the floor as the Professor studied him with quiet patience. Logan had come here for advice, though he hadn’t known how to ask for it. After a few minutes of silence, Xavier spoke.

"She loves you, Logan," Xavier said gently, his voice filled with the kind of understanding that only came with time. "And yet you push her away despite being married for years now. Why?"

Logan swallowed, struggling to put his feelings into words. "She… deserves better than me," he muttered. "I drag her into my mess. She’s always the one tryin’ to fix me, to hold me together. I don’t wanna keep holdin’ her back."

Xavier regarded him thoughtfully, folding his hands. "Perhaps," he said softly, "she doesn’t see it as a burden, Logan. Perhaps you’re the one who’s still carrying that weight." He paused, allowing the words to sink in. "But by constantly questioning her commitment, by doubting her love, you’re hurting her far more than any nightmare ever could."

Logan’s jaw tightened, shame flooding through him as Xavier’s words settled in. He’d spent so much time convinced he was protecting you by keeping you at arm’s length, he hadn’t realized he was driving a wedge between you. He was the one putting cracks in your relationship, making you question the very foundation of what you’d built together.

Determined to make it up to you, Logan planned a small, thoughtful evening, something that would remind you of the early days, back when things felt simple and uncomplicated. He knew he’d hurt you, and there was no grand gesture that could fix it. But maybe he could start by showing you what you meant to him.

He set up a cozy picnic under the stars in the mansion’s quiet garden, the same spot where he’d taken you for one of your dates. There were blankets laid out, soft lanterns casting a warm glow, and a small table with your favorite food—he’d even found the wine you’d both liked that night.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you finally came outside, your expression wary but softened by curiosity. Logan’s heart thudded in his chest as he stood, waiting, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had on a battlefield.

"What’s all this?" you asked quietly, glancing around the setup with a mixture of surprise and hesitation.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. "I… wanted to make it up to you. I know I’ve been a real jackass," he admitted, his voice gruff. "I’ve got this… damn habit of pushin’ people away. And I know I’ve hurt you by doin’ it. You didn’t deserve that."

Your expression softened, and you stepped closer, your eyes searching his face.

"There’s a… note," he mumbled, pointing to a folded piece of paper on the table. "I wrote it… y’know, in case I couldn’t say all of it right."

You picked up the note, unfolding it carefully. His handwriting was rough, scrawled across the page, and the words were raw, unpolished, but every line held the weight of his heart:

"I know I don’t say it enough, but you’re the best damn thing that ever happened to me. You’re my light, my peace, even when I don’t think I deserve it. I’d be lost without you, and it scares the hell outta me sometimes. I’m sorry for doubting what we have. I love you more than I know how to say, and I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you by my side."

You looked up at him, tears shimmering in your eyes, but there was a soft, unwavering smile tugging at your lips. "Logan… you don’t have to do all this to prove anything," you murmured, squeezing his hands. "I know how much you love me. I’ve always known."

Logan gave a half-shrug, but his expression softened as he took a tentative step closer, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "Maybe," he muttered, his voice rough, almost vulnerable. "But I’m a damn stubborn fool, and I know I don’t say it enough. Hell, I’m lucky you haven’t given up on me yet."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close until your foreheads were nearly touching. "Logan," you whispered, your voice steady despite the emotion welling up in your chest. "I knew exactly what I was getting myself into the moment I kissed you that first time. You seem to forget… this is a two-sided relationship. I chose this, and I chose you—all of you. The good, the bad, and even the ugly."

A small, wry smile crossed his face as he held you tighter, his hand splaying against the small of your back. "Guess there’s plenty of that last one," he murmured, his tone filled with self-deprecation.

You shook your head, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. "I don’t want some perfect, easy life. This marriage hasn’t been easy—no one ever promised it would be." Your voice softened, and a flicker of pain crossed your face as you thought back to the late nights, the nightmares, the moments of doubt. "But I wouldn’t trade a single second of it."

Logan’s eyes softened, the weight of your words sinking in as he searched your face. There was a flicker of something vulnerable, almost boyish as if he still couldn’t quite believe that someone like you would stay through it all. "Even with all the times I’ve messed up? Pushed you away?"

"Especially then," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I chose you, Logan, knowing every scar you carry. I chose you because you’re worth it. Because beneath all that gruff and growl, there’s a man with a heart bigger than he’ll ever admit."

Logan’s gaze softened, his usual guarded expression melting as he took in the honesty in your eyes. His fingers tightened around yours as if grounding himself in the warmth of your touch.

You swallowed, feeling your throat tighten as you searched for the right words. "Besides, you act like you haven’t been there for me—like I’m the only one giving in this marriage. But that’s not true. You’ve carried me, held me up when I couldn’t stand on my own." A tear slipped down your cheek, and you felt a tremble in your voice as you continued, more vulnerable than you’d ever allowed yourself to be. "I guess… I guess I need to tell you much you mean to me more, because if I ever lost you—"

Your voice broke, the unspoken thought hanging in the air between you. Logan’s hand moved to your face, his thumb gently wiping away the tear that had escaped. He looked at you with a raw intensity, like he was seeing you for the first time and realizing just how deeply his presence affected you.

"I don’t know what I’d do," you whispered, voice barely holding together. "Without you, it’d be like… losing the part of me that makes sense of the world. You’re my safe place, Logan. I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it."

A faint tremor ran through Logan, and for a moment he just stood there, absorbing your words. Then, in a rare, unguarded gesture, he pulled you against him, burying his face in your hair, his arms wrapping around you as if he could shield you from everything—himself included.

"You won’t lose me," he murmured, his voice rough, barely more than a whisper. "I’m here. And I’m not goin’ anywhere. Not ever."

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palms. "Promise me," you whispered, your voice filled with both a plea and a demand.

Logan’s hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he met your gaze, raw and steady. "I promise, darlin’," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "As long as I’m breathin’, I’m yours."

You nodded, a soft smile breaking through the tears as you let out a shaky breath. "Good," you whispered, a hint of your usual fire returning. "Because I’m not letting you go. You’re stuck with me, tough guy."

A smile finally broke through Logan’s serious expression, a low, rough laugh rumbling from his chest. "Well, I guess I got the better end of that deal," he murmured, his thumb tracing softly over your lips, his gaze warm and unguarded. "Lucky me."

You let out a laugh, sniffing as you swatted his hand away playfully. "No, I’m the lucky one, and don’t go thinking otherwise." You shook your head, the emotions bubbling up as you looked up at him. "You’ve seen the darkest parts of me, Logan. You know it wasn’t always easy for me either."

Logan’s smile faded slightly, his hand still cupping your cheek as he looked down at you, his brow furrowing. "Yeah… I guess sometimes I forget that," he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "I… I let that damn nightmare get the best of me last night. Pulled me into my head, made me feel like I was poisonin’ your life somehow." He sighed, looking away for a moment. "I let it eat at me, let it convince me that I was only draggin’ you down."

He trailed off, his thumb idly brushing against your cheek, almost as if grounding himself in the warmth of your skin. "Guess I let that fear carry me away," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "And I hurt you because of it."

Your hand found his, squeezing gently as you shook your head. "You don’t have to apologize for feeling like that. I know what those fears can do. I’ve had them too, remember?"

He frowned, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes. "You? I… I didn’t know you ever doubted us like that."

A soft smile played on your lips, tinged with a hint of sadness. "Oh, I’ve had my moments. There was a time, back when we were dating when I thought I wasn’t strong enough for all this." You looked down, your fingers tracing small patterns on his hand as you continued. "There were days I felt like I couldn’t handle the weight of what you carried… like maybe I wasn’t enough for you."

Logan’s hand tightened around yours, his gaze darkening as if the thought alone pained him. "I had no idea," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

You gave him a soft, reassuring smile. "Because you already had so much on your shoulders. I didn’t want to add to it. But… there was one night that changed everything."

He tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing in curiosity. "Which night?"

You took a deep breath, a nostalgic smile crossing your face as you remembered. "It was that night when I got that phone call about my dad being in the hospital. You remember? I’d barely told you anything about him, about my family, because… well, I thought it was easier not to talk about it."

Logan nodded, his gaze intense, recalling the way you had looked that night—pale, shaken, trying to hold yourself together. "Yeah," he said softly. "You were tryin’ to act like you were fine, but I could see you were fallin’ apart inside."

You laughed lightly, nodding. "Exactly. I was a mess, trying so hard not to let it show. But then… you showed up. I was packing a bag, trying to figure out what to do, and suddenly, you were just there. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t push me to talk… you just held me." Your voice softened a hint of awe in it. "And then you drove me to the hospital and stayed with me all night, even though I told you it was fine and that you didn’t have to."

Logan looked down, a faint blush touching his cheeks, as if embarrassed by his own gentleness. "Didn’t seem like you should be alone," he muttered, almost to himself. "Couldn’t leave you to deal with that by yourself."

"Exactly," you whispered, lifting his hand to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. "That night, you made me feel like… like I was worth being cared for. Like I could fall apart, and you’d be there to catch me. That’s when I knew I loved you, Logan. Not because you’re some ‘tough guy’ who protects everyone around him, but because of the way you love—with everything you’ve got, even when it scares you."

He swallowed, visibly moved, his thumb still tracing your cheek as he looked down at you, the weight of your words settling over him. "You’re tellin’ me that one night… that’s what made you fall for me?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It made me fall more for you and since then, every time you’ve shown up, every time you’ve let your guard down just enough to let me in… it only made me love you more."

Logan exhaled, his hand slipping down to rest over your heart as if feeling the steady beat under his palm reassured him of something he could never put into words. "I don’t deserve you," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "But… God, I’m gonna try like hell to be the man you see me as."

You leaned up, brushing your lips softly against his, pouring every bit of reassurance and love you had into that kiss. "You already are," you murmured against his lips. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. I wouldn’t trade you, or this life, for anything."

A soft laugh escaped him, full of relief and something tender. “Well,” he whispered, pulling you close, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m done lettin’ my own damn fears get in the way of us."

“Good,” you whispered. “Because marrying you was the best thing I ever did.” 

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss. His hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer as if you might slip away. When you finally broke apart, he looked down at you with a gaze so soft, so full of unspoken devotion, it made your heart ache.

[caitified]

i luv ur fics omg 😭 could u do paige x reader who loves horror where paige is scared of horror and they go to halloween horror nights (a haunted house theme park event thing) or watch a horror movie together 💜

haunt

paige bueckers x reader

warnings: none! as someone who gets scared easily i basically wrote myself here as paige..happy late halloween.

you and paige had been planning halloween night for weeks, and tonight was finally the night. there was a haunted house in town everyone had been talking about. at first, paige had acted super confident, teasing you about how you’d be clinging to her the whole time. but as the days passed and halloween night got closer, you noticed a slight shift—her teasing softened, and she started hinting that maybe haunted houses weren’t really her thing. you had your suspicions, but you knew she’d never admit she was scared.

as the five of you arrived at the haunted house with azzi, jana, and aubrey, paige tried her best to play it cool. “just so you know, i’ll protect you all,” she said, winking at you while gripping your hand just a bit tighter than usual.

aubrey raised an eyebrow, giving her a skeptical smile. “sure, paige. we’ll all depend on you.”

azzi and jana exchanged amused glances, both of them a bit more excited than scared, though you could tell they were gearing up for the jump-scares. the entrance to the haunted house loomed ahead, dark and eerie, with creepy music and distant screams filtering out through the walls. you felt paige shift beside you, her fingers trembling slightly as she glanced nervously at the darkened doorway.

“you good, paige?” you teased, leaning close and squeezing her hand.

“me? scared?” she scoffed, sounding a bit too quick to dismiss the idea. “nah, i’m just… mentally preparing.” her voice was confident, but her eyes kept flicking back to the entrance.

you just laughed, finding her bravado adorable. “right, you’ll keep us all safe from the monsters.”

“obviously,” she shot back, puffing up a little. “but, uh, don’t let go of my hand, just in case.”

as you all stepped inside, the door slammed shut with a loud bang, and paige jumped, squeezing your hand even tighter. azzi and aubrey snickered, giving her playful nudges as you walked further into the dimly lit, twisting hallways. shadows seemed to move on their own, and every corner held another actor ready to jump out. with every lunge or sudden scream, you felt paige tense, inching closer and closer to you.

“you sure you’re okay?” you whispered, catching the way her eyes darted around at every little noise.

“totally fine,” she whispered back, trying to sound casual, though her grip on your hand was practically a death grip.

the first jump-scare came from a figure dressed as a ghoul, who leaped out from behind a doorway, and paige let out a yelp, practically leaping into your arms. azzi burst out laughing, clapping her hands, while aubrey teased, “our fearless leader, everyone!”

paige shot them both a glare, mumbling, “it just… caught me off guard.”

jana gave her a knowing smile, shrugging. “if you say so, paige.”

moving on, you came into a foggy room filled with eerie mannequins, some posed in twisted, unnatural shapes. the group hesitated, glancing around, when suddenly one of the “mannequins” came to life, lunging toward you all with a guttural scream. everyone screamed and scrambled, with paige clutching you even closer, burying her face against your shoulder for a moment before peeking out to see if the coast was clear.

“that wasn’t… that bad,” she mumbled, cheeks pink.

“not at all,” you teased, leaning in close. “want me to hold your hand through the rest?”

she rolled her eyes but didn’t let go. “don’t act like you’re not a little scared too,” she murmured, though her voice softened as her fingers laced with yours, grounding herself with your presence.

as the group continued, azzi and jana took the lead, laughing as they bravely navigated the dark hallways, while aubrey stayed closer to you and paige, occasionally tossing a smirk your way when paige shrieked at another scare. when you entered a pitch-black room with only faint, echoing whispers, paige’s breath caught, and she leaned even closer, her hand warm and steady in yours.

“i can’t see anything,” she whispered, her voice a mix of fear and excitement.

you leaned into her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “i’ve got you, paige.”

by the time you made it out to the exit, paige let out a long, relieved breath, still holding your hand as if she didn’t want to let go.

“so… not scary, huh?” you grinned, looking up at her.

paige finally laughed, letting go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “fine, you win,” she said, grinning down at you. “but next year, we’re carving pumpkins or something.”

sorry for the lack of fics, i’ve been really busy but i’ll be writing more now. requests are STILL open!! thanks for reading

[mononijikayu]

live updates — gojo satoru.

As the game became less of a focus and more of a background challenge, your Satoru started chatting about his week like he usually does. He grins as he starts talking.  “Man, I really miss home, baby.” he said, his usual bravado softening. “I miss our bed! You get lost in the sheets and we get lost in the sheets together!” Satoru immediately saw the flood of the comments. His face immediately turns scarlet as he scrolls.  You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction. He waved his hand, “Hey comments, that was a really sweet comment! That isn’t innuendo, keep it PG!”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, slice of life, light hearted, domestic, romance, long distance relationship, pet names (baby, doll, baby doll, etc), banter, flirting, humour, happy ending, hurt/comfort, pining, weariness, depictions of long distance relationship, depiction of pining, depiction of weariness, depiction of slice of life, actor! gojo, non-celebrity! reader, this is how deep gojo would love you;

WORD COUNT: 5.9k words

NOTE: the people have chosen and people have chosen gojo as the second rank for the poll. i thought of this as a parallel to hey lover series!!! one can only wonder what sort of lover gojo would be, especially with the type of schedule he would have had as an actor. but i love to think that gojo satoru is the type to make everything work, even in long distance. also a lot of this was inspired by kim seokjin of bts playing games on weverse live and i hope yall enjoy that too. anyway, i love you all so much!!! please take care, keep safe. its getting colder!!! mwah <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

IT WAS HARD DATING SOMEONE WHO WAS FAMOUS. But it was your life. Gojo Satoru, your famous singer and actor boyfriend, had been booked for an extended stint abroad, and the thought of not seeing him for weeks weighed heavily on you. 

Though he’d send the occasional text or call when he could, you both knew it wasn’t enough. And especially for him — who was more clingy than you were. 

But one of those nights, during one of his brief calls, your beloved boyfriend Satoru had finally proposed a plan to you as you were laying on your bed alone.

“I know you’re worried about me being away for so long. So… how about I do a livestream every week? I’ll play some silly games, and you can see for yourself that I’m alive and well."

Your brows furrowed at him. "But Satoru, your privacy? Don't you—"

"It's okay, baby. I don't mind. Plus, I know you’ll love watching me lose miserably. And you know, everyone knows we’re dating anyway. I might as well make a declaration of my love for you like this.”

You didn't think that you could argue about what he wanted.

But you can't help but feel warmth when he kisses your check.

Gojo Satoru has never loved much of life as much as he did you.

And somehow, you fall in love with him hard, again.

The following week, true to his word, your phone pinged with a notification: GojoSatoruLIVE – Silly Games & Updates. You clicked the link, your screen filling with your boyfriend’s signature grin. That had made you smile for the first time in a while.

“Hey doll!” he greeted playfully. “Miss me? I know it’s been tough, but I thought this would make things easier. So, every week, I’ll be here, streaming just for you.”

Week 1 

THE FIRST WEEK FEELS EASY. Gojo Satoru started off confidently with a game that seemed laughably easy. One where you had to stack blocks without knocking them over. As the screen showed colorful blocks teetering precariously, he flashed a grin at the camera.

“Easy peasy, baby!” he boasted, cracking his knuckles like he was preparing for some grand feat. With the first few blocks, he was doing fine…..until, naturally, the tower began to wobble.

You could see the moment his confidence faltered, his eyes widening comically. "No, no, no—hey, hey, hey! Stay up, stay up—"

The tower collapsed in a spectacular fashion, blocks scattering across the screen with dramatic sound effects. Satoru groaned, slapping his forehead. 

“Alright, maybe not so easy…..” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as if the game had personally insulted him. “But don’t worry, I’m just warming up! Next round, guys. Trust! This will finally be a guaranteed win. Put your trust in the strongest! Baby, believe in your boyfie!”

Spoiler: He did not win the next round.

After the third round of failed block stacking, with this time with the tower collapsing before he even got halfway through, Satoru finally gave up, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms dramatically. He lets out a heavy sigh and takes a moment, moving forward on his PC.

“Okay, clearly this game is rigged, baby.” he declared, throwing a hand toward the screen. “They knew I’d be playing, so they made it impossible. But don’t worry, I’m too talented to be brought down by a bunch of blocks.”

Between his attempts to master the game, he filled you in on his week. He smiled through it, happily so. You missed how much he would yap to you. It’s alright, seeing him yap over the screen. But it was different, when he’s next to you. 

“The shoots have been exhausting. You wouldn’t believe how many times they made me retake a shot where I’m just standing still. Apparently, my natural charm is ‘too distracting,’ so they wanted me to tone it down.” 

He shot the camera a playful smirk, knowing full well that toning down anything wasn’t in his nature. Gojo Satoru’s charm was always going to hit. But you know he plays it for you more than anything. The rest of the world does not know how killer that charm is in the morning sun, while beside him.

“But the crew’s great, though!” he continued, glancing at the screen as another round of blocks came tumbling down. “They’re really professional—don’t get me wrong. But do you think it’s normal for someone to eat six plates of pasta for lunch? Because I might’ve done that.” 

He threw in a sheepish grin, as if he wasn’t fully aware of his own ridiculous appetite. “What can I say? I ordered too much food. But it was amazing! I need to take you there when I’m back.”

Every time he glanced at the camera, it felt like he was speaking directly to you, his playful tone and teasing smile making the miles between you seem insignificant.

"Oh, and don’t think I forgot, baby. You should be prepared! Next time you have to play this with me! Bet you can’t beat my high score."

Given that his “high score” was barely two blocks stacked, you couldn’t help but laugh at the challenge.

Before signing off, Satoru dramatically wiped his forehead as if the session had been physically taxing.

“Whew. Alright, I think I’ve done enough damage here. I’ll work on my block-stacking skills for next week. And by ‘work on’ I mean completely forget this game exists. But, hey, at least I look good no matter what I’m doing, right?”

He flashed one last charming grin at the camera. “See you next week, doll. And don’t worry, my beloved doll. I’m alive, full of pasta, and missing you terribly.”

And with that, the screen faded to black, leaving you with the warmth of his silliness and the comfort that, no matter how far apart you both were, your Satoru will always found a way to make you smile.

Week 2

HE MESSAGED YOU WHEN HE WAS GOING ON LIVE. And of course, you already had some delivery food and some wine ready, watching your lover start it all up. Gojo Satoru kicked off the livestream with a smirk, this time ready to tackle a racing game. He looked way too confident for someone who spent last week losing to virtual blocks. 

“Alright, this game? I’m winning first place, no question!” he said, pointing at the screen like it was already a done deal.

The race started off well for your boyfriend. Satoru’s cute character zipped off the starting line like a pro. He was looking confident about all of it. He was smirking beyond compare. He looked too handsome.

“Look at that speed! I’m practically untouchable. Ka-chow, baby! I am speeeedddd!” he boasted, dramatically leaning into each turn as if that would help his in-game car. For a moment, it seemed like he was actually doing okay.

Then he hit a banana peel.

“WHAT?!” His car spun out, and his screen lit up with the mocking sound of other players zooming past him. Satoru’s jaw dropped. “Who put that there? Who’s sabotaging me? What the hell? How am I not winning? It was so close!” 

He glanced at the camera, his dramatic flair fully on display. “Alright, alright, that’s fine. I’m just building suspense. You don’t wanna see me win too easily, right?”

But then came the red shells. One after another. His car spun out more times than you could count, and by the time he finally crossed the finish line, he was dead last. 

A giant “12th PLACE” flashed on the screen.

He stared at it for a long moment, letting the defeat sink in before dramatically flopping back in his chair. You giggled at his reaction. Satoru pursed his lips, looking at the camera, eyes furrowed with disappointment.

“Okay, maybe these games are rigged, baby!” he sighed, pouting like a kid who’d lost at hide-and-seek. “This is not a fair play game, game company!”

He threw his hands up in mock surrender, laughing at himself. “Who am I kidding? This game’s obviously cheating. No one’s that bad at driving… except maybe Kento. His driving is really really bad, guys. Girls, guys, gays, non-conforming friends! You should find a good driver if you don’t like his designated driver for the rest of your life!”

Before he could dwell on his loss any longer, you heard a crash off-camera, followed by giggles. Satoru barely had time to react before his door burst open, and barged into the room were Itadori Yuji and Kugisaki Nobara, looking like they were on a mission to cause chaos.

“Yo, yo, sensei! Gojooooooooo!” Yuji called out, grinning as he dove into your boyfriend’s bed. “Heard you were losing, so we came to help!”

“More like witnessing the disaster. This is hilarious!” Nobara added with a mischievous smirk, folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.

Satroru tried to maintain his composure, waving them off. “I’m not losing, I’m just… learning the course.”

Yuji peered at the screen, pointing at the humiliating “12th PLACE” graphic still displayed. “Uh-huh. Looks like you’ve learned nothing.”

Satoru groaned, dramatically dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, fine! The game might not be my strongest skill. But have you seen me act?”

He shot them both a grin, trying to distract from his gaming disaster. “Photoshoots in the morning, Jujutsu Kaisen shoots all day, meetings all night. You know, someone has to look good while you two slack off.”

“Yeah, yeah, big shot.” Nobara rolled her eyes. “But seriously, how are you this bad? It’s a racing game. Even Yuji could win this!”

Yuji, looking offended, gave her a nudge. “Hey, I’m great at racing games!”

Satoru waved his hand dismissively. “Okay, enough out of you two! I’ll do better next time, promise. But let’s be real here, kiddos! You don’t come here for the gaming skills, you come here for the charm.” 

He winked at the camera towards you, clearly trying to salvage his bruised ego. “Ain’t that right, doll?”

You giggled at his little flying kiss soon after. 

Your boyfriend’s really the cutest person.

And as he smiled, you know that his ego recovered.

Meanwhile, Yuji had already grabbed a controller, grinning like he was about to show up his mentor. “How about I show you how it’s done?”

Nobara crossed her arms and nodded at Satoru. “Yeah, maybe let the kids handle this. You stick to acting pretty and being on time to set for once.”

Satoru’s bright eyes widened dramatically. “Oh, on time? Me? Never!”

As the chaos continued with Yuji and Nobara heckling him every time he lost, Gojo Satoru somehow managed to throw in a few updates about his week to you. 

“The photoshoots are still insane, though.” he said over the sound of Yuji crashing his own car into a wall. “The pictures are going on the wall again, doll!”

“Early mornings, late-night meetings… But I’m hanging in there. Mostly because of this.” He motioned to the livestream. “You guys and you, my baby doll. You all keep me going. But well, my baby doll the most, guys. That’s my baby.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “You’re so sappy, bro.”

“Yeah, cause that’s my baby, kid! Sorry you and Maki aren’t—”

“I’m gonna strangle you!” She glared.

Satoru only laughed and Nobara rolled her eyes, but more playful this time. Even with Yuji tackling him from the side in an attempt to “help” and Nobara giving snarky commentary on his every move, your beloved Satoru never lost that playful grin. He shot you one last wink before wrapping things up.

“Alright, I gotta deal with these two. See you next week. And trust me, I’ll win something by then. Maybe.”

But as the camera faded out, you had a feeling his streak of terrible gaming luck—and hilarious weekly chaos—was far from over. You closed your computer and heard the sound of your phone. You smiled even wider. You gotta comfort your winter bear and his pouty self.

Week 3 

YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS BACK FOR MORE. And you were of course, here once again. You smiled watching his face surface on your screen. Satoru quickly started the stream with his signature grin, announcing his latest challenge for his weekly check ins. And that tonight, ladies, gents and non–binary folks, is this new puzzle game. 

“Alright, baby, everyone else in this live, this one should be easy. I mean, c’mon, I’m a genius. I’ve got six eyes and an IQ off the charts.” he quipped, wiggling his fingers like he was casting some sort of brainy spell. 

He clicked through the game’s introduction with the confidence of someone who definitely hadn’t been last place in a racing game just the week before.

For the first few minutes, Satoru seemed to be doing fine, solving the initial puzzles like a pro. “See? Easy stuff. I could do this in my sleep!” he bragged.

But then came a more complicated challenge, involving color-coded switches and hidden doors. That’s when the trouble started.

“Wait… why won’t this thing move?” Satoru muttered, squinting at the screen. He tried a few more random clicks, then groaned. “Okay, clearly the game is intimidated by my genius.” 

He furiously tapped at his keyboard to no avail. “This is just me taking a break from being smart all the time. Gotta give the game a fighting chance, y’know?” 

He shot the camera a playful smirk, but you could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to solve the puzzle. “Nah, actually I’d win!”

Minutes ticked by, and Satoru was still stuck on the same puzzle. His face was entirely frozen on his focus. But then his face fell and frowned.  He finally leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll figure it out… eventually.” He gave a dramatic sigh, like the weight of his own intelligence was too much to bear. “But don’t worry, I’ve got this. Probably.”

As the game became less of a focus and more of a background challenge, your Satoru started chatting about his week like he usually does. He grins as he starts talking. 

“Man, I really miss home, baby.” he said, his usual bravado softening. “I miss our bed! You get lost in the sheets and we get lost in the sheets together!”

Satoru immediately saw the flood of the comments.

His face immediately turns scarlet as he scrolls. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction.

He waved his hand, “Hey comments, that was a really sweet comment! That isn’t innuendo, keep it PG!”

“The hotel’s nice, sure, but it’s not the same without you around.” He paused, glancing at the camera like he was talking directly to you. “The bed’s too big for one person, you know?”

There was a rare, genuine vulnerability in his voice, just for a moment, before he quickly shifted back to his usual playful tone. “But hey, I’m doing fine. And this, what we do here, what I do for you….this makes it easier. Talking to you like this after missing you so much, baby. This makes it all worth it. I can’t wait to be home, but yeah, I…I treasure this.”

Right on cue, there was a loud crash from somewhere behind him. Satoru jumped, whipping around in his chair. “What the—?”

The door to his hotel room flew open, and in strolled Ieiri Shoko and Geto Suguru, looking like they’d just come from causing trouble elsewhere. Shoko had a cigarette dangling from her lips, her usual cool smirk in place, while Suguru just raised a casual hand in greeting.

“Yo, Satoru!” Suguru said, settling into a nearby chair like he owned the place.

Satoru groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Ugh! Do you two ever knock?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Shoko teased, blowing out a puff of smoke. She glanced at the camera, noticing the livestream for the first time. “Oh, you’re streaming? Hey there!”

Her eyes lit up as she leaned closer to the camera, her smirk growing wider. “So, this is the famous partner, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you, darling.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed, his smile faltering just slightly. “Shoko, don’t—”

But it was too late. Shoko winked at the camera. “You know, I’ve always thought Gojo was a bit out of his league with you. I mean, you could do better, right? Maybe someone a little more… mature?” She gave a slow, suggestive smile, clearly enjoying herself.

Satoru’s mouth fell open in horror. “Shoko, stop! Stop rizzing my pookie!” he warned, though his voice was more panicked than commanding. He glanced nervously at the chat.

But then you, ever the tease, decided to play along. You typed a comment back: "Well, Shoko, I don’t know... maybe you should take me out sometime and we’ll see."

Gojo’s reaction was immediate. He nearly fell out of his chair, his face going from cocky to full-on betrayed. “WHAT?! No! You—don’t flirt back!” 

He was waving his arms wildly, trying to contain the chaos. “Baby, don’t do this! I can’t lose you like this! I’m not gonna win over a lesbian, oh my god—”

Meanwhile, Shoko was laughing so hard she had to wipe a tear from her eye. “Ooooh, now this I like!” she said, blowing a kiss to the camera. “You’re my new favorite person.”

Suguru, watching the entire scene unfold with a bemused smile, finally chimed in. “This is more entertaining than your puzzle game, Satoru. Maybe we should join your streams more often.”

Satoru looked like he was on the verge of losing it. “I’m being attacked! Betrayed! By everyone! This is treason!” 

He pointed an accusing finger at the camera at you. He was sure you were giggling (you were). “And you—you’re flirting with Shoko?! I’m the charming boyfriend here, not her!”

Shoko gave him a pat on the head, like he was an overexcited puppy. “Don’t be so jealous, Satoru. It’s cute.”

Satoru dramatically slumped in his chair, groaning like his entire world had been turned upside down. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

With one last exasperated glance at the camera, Satoru sighed. “Alright, next week’s stream will be Shoko-free. I can’t take any more of this. I can’t be single because of Shoko stealing my lover!” he muttered, still pouting.

But before the stream ended, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Even with all the teasing, the playful banter, and the flirting with Shoko, Your Satoru still looked like he was having the time of his life. And that, more than anything, made the distance between you feel just a little bit smaller.

Week 4

ONCE AGAIN, YOU SAT ON YOUR BED AND WAITED FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND’S FACE TO SURFACE. After a few seconds, Gojo Satoru started the stream with his usual swagger and that massive grin on his face.

You didn’t know what he had planned this time, he hadn’t told you. He kept saying that you should wait and be patient for today. So, you let him have that time to surprise you. Your boyfriend after all just knows how to make things enjoyable for you.

“So, I’ve been thinking, baby…..” he began, leaning closer to the camera with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Why keep all this awesomeness to myself when I can humiliate my friends in front of you, too?” 

He gestured off-screen, and a moment later, Geto Suguru appeared, settling into a chair beside him.

“Hey, hey!” Geto Suguru said with a casual wave. “I’m here to destroy Satoru’s fragile ego.”

Satoru laughed, tossing an arm around Geto’s shoulders. “Oh, please. I’m the one who invited you so I could have some real competition. You’re just here for moral support.” 

He booted up a multiplayer game, something fast-paced and competitive, and the two of them were off to the races—literally.

Even with Suguru beside him, Satoru couldn’t help but turn to the camera every few minutes, his grin widening each time he won a round. After each victory, he’d shoot you a wink or blow a kiss. 

“See that? Just for you, baby.” he’d say with a smug grin. “I’m winning like this. I am a champion for love, obviously. For my baby doll! Suguru is just here to make me look better, don't you think?"

Suguru snorted. “Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.”

As the game went on, the banter between them was relentless. Whenever Suguru would take the lead, Gojo Satoru would dramatically cry out in defeat. “This is a betrayal of our friendship!” he’d declare, throwing his hands in the air. 

But then, when Satoru inevitably snatched victory back, he’d lean in toward the camera, shooting another flirty wink your way. “I win again. See? All for you, baby.”

But beneath all the fun and games, you could sense the subtle shift. Despite his usual bravado, there was a heaviness in Satoru's weary eyes that he couldn’t completely hide. 

He masked it with jokes and over-the-top celebrations, but the long hours were starting to take a toll on him. His posture slouched just a little more than usual, and there was a tiredness in his voice when he wasn’t cracking jokes.

In between rounds, Satoru gave his usual updates, trying to keep things light. “The shoots have been intense, baby.” he admitted, running a hand through his messy white hair. “Long days, early mornings—nothing I can’t handle, though.” 

He flashed his signature grin, but there was a flicker of weariness behind it. “I’ve got another shoot tomorrow, but I’m surviving. It’s just… ya know… typical world-class star stuff.”

Suguru glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone, Satoru. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Satoru waved him off with a laugh. “Oh, c’mon, I’m invincible. Sleep is for mortals. Besides, I’ll be home soon, I promise.” He said the last part softer, his gaze flicking toward the camera, just for a moment, and you could tell he was talking to you. “I can cuddle and sleep more like that!”

There was a beat of silence, an unspoken acknowledgment that the distance was hard on both of you. But before the mood could dip too far, Satoru jumped back into character, clapping his hands together. “Alright, enough of that! Let’s get back to the important stuff—me kicking Suguru’s butt.”

Suguru rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, blue lagoon.”

They dove back into the game, the playful rivalry picking up where it left off. But through all the chaos, you could tell that your boyfriend was pushing through for you, making sure the livestream stayed fun, even if he was running on fumes.

As the stream neared its end, Satoru paused for a moment, turning to the camera with a more genuine smile. One that you know that was one that was eagerly hopeful.

Just a little more time, he'll be home. This will end soon. He'll be in your arms. He just has to be patient. He just has to be strong. Gojo Satoru will do it. He'll do it for you.

“Thanks for sticking with me through all this.” he said, his tone a little softer now. “I know I’m far away, but I’m doing my best to be here every week. And hey, just a little longer, and I’ll be home.”

Suguru, never one to miss an opportunity, gave him a nudge. “You gonna blow another kiss or what? The fans demand it. But I'm pretty sure your partner deserves it more.”

Satoru grinned, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. One more for the road.” He leaned in, blowing a dramatic kiss to the camera before signing off with a wink. “See you next week, babe. And I’ll try not to embarrass myself too much.”

But as the screen faded to black, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter how exhausted he was, Gojo  Satoru would always find a way to make you feel like you were right there with him. And you wish you could reach for him and hug him and love him.

Week 5

YOU COULD TELL THE FATIGUE IS GETTING TO HIM. Gojo Satoru appeared on the screen, looking a little rough around the edges. His normally energetic presence was dimmed, and the steam from a mug of hot tea curled lazily into the air. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes before flashing the camera a tired grin. 

“Okay, I’ll admit it—I’m running on fumes today!” he said with a chuckle. “But I couldn’t skip out on our weekly thing. You’d worry too much if I didn’t show, right?”

He pulled up a simple, relaxing game. A rare choice for your boyfriend. He doesn’t have patience sometimes for the low-stakes and slow games, clearly not aiming for any impressive wins this time around. It was a farming simulator, of all things. 

“Thought I’d try my hand at growing virtual crops since, you know, I’m such an agricultural genius, baby.” he joked, though the usual punch behind his words wasn’t quite there.

Despite his exhaustion, Satoru made an effort to keep things light. As his character in the game wandered around aimlessly through the area, he started to give you some of the small updates about his life again between sips of peppermint tea.

“The shoots have been brutal this week. Lots of action scenes, lots of stunts... and my stunt double called in sick, so guess who’s been throwing himself through walls all week?” 

He gave a halfhearted laugh, but you could tell the long days were catching up to him. “But I'm not one to give up. I’ll do my best, baby!”

Every few minutes, though, when the tiredness seemed to pull him down, Satoru would catch himself. His gaze would flick to the camera, and he’d muster up that bright, reassuring smile—the one you loved. 

“Don’t worry about me, alright?” he’d say, his voice soft but playful. “I’m tougher than I look. I’ll be home before you know it.”

There was something endearing about the way he refused to let you see just how worn out he was. He’d fumble through the game, occasionally getting distracted and letting his crops wither, but he didn’t seem to mind.

The game wasn’t the point, it never was. For him, it was just a reason to be there, to share some part of his life with you, even from miles away. He wanted nothing more than to know that he's making you smile on the other side of the world, that he's with you even when he's not beside you.

Midway through the stream, he leaned back and sighed, glancing off-camera for a moment before turning his attention back to you. “You know, these weekly streams… they’re the best part of my week right now.” 

His voice was quieter, more sincere now. “I know it’s silly, playing these dumb games just to check in, but it makes me feel like we’re not so far apart. I miss you, baby doll. Miss you so so bad.”

For a second, the cracks in his usual bravado showed. His weariness, the toll of being away for so long, all of it flickered across his face. But then, just as quickly, he covered it up with another grin. You know he did that, just for you. 

“But hey, no need to get all sappy and sad about it. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll cook you that terrible breakfast you love so much, baby doll. But don't worry, my coffee brew will make up for all of it!”

Even though the stream was shorter than usual, it felt like a lifeline—not just for you, but for him too. These weekly check-ins had become more than just updates; for you or for him.

No, they were more than that. They were a way for both of you to stay grounded, to share a piece of normalcy despite the distance. And no matter how drained he was, Gojo Satoru never failed to show up. It was his way of saying, "I'm okay. We're okay. We always will be, because this is love."

As the stream wound down, Satoru waved to the camera with a tired but genuine smile. “Alright, that’s all for tonight. Sorry it’s a short one, but I’ll make it up to you next week. Maybe I’ll find a game I’m actually good at soon enough, baby.” he teased.

Then, as always, he ended the stream with the same words, his voice softer than usual, like a promise he was determined to keep. “Soon, doll. I’ll be back soon.”

And with that, the screen faded to black, leaving you with the warmth of his voice lingering in your mind and the quiet reassurance that, no matter how far away he was, Gojo Satoru was still finding his way back to you.

Week 6

HE HASN’T LET GO OF YOU SINCE HE CAME HOME. Somehow, your beloved boyfriend had become overly attached to you after being gone for more than five weeks.

You didn’t mind, though. You missed him too much. And now that you have him all to yourself, you were just happy to make him happy, to indulge him. It was your turn to be his penicillin after a long suffering in parting. 

That was what you were doing as you joined him for his new little live. Your chair leaned closer to his as the feed started to broadcast. And of course, with all the energy in him — your beloved boyfriend starts the stream with an excited yell.

"Guess who’s finally home, yall!" Satoru practically bounced in his chair, dragging you into the frame beside him. His arm was slung over your shoulders, and his grin was so wide it was almost cartoonish. "This lucky boy, hah-hah!" 

“I’m back with my one and only, guys. Best day of my life! And the first thing I’m doing to celebrate? Playing games with my better half. How lucky am I?”

He leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, throwing a wink at the camera. You giggle as the blush became evident on your cheeks. He seems satisfied knowing he's made you blush like that in front of millions.

“Don’t be jealous, everyone. I know you’ve missed this face, but now it’s all theirs.”

The comments section immediately exploded with his castmates popping in.

YujiItadori: “Let’s gooooo! The dream team’s together again!”

NobaraK: “Bet they’re cheating, already ganging up on us before the game even starts.”

Shoko: “I didn’t tune in to watch Gojo. Move over so we can see the real star of the stream.”

Megumi: "I can't believe they love him so much, they're staying like that."

Satoru read Shoko’s comment out loud with a laugh. “Ah, Shoko, ever the comedian. You’ll have to settle for watching me kick your butt in this game, though.” 

Then he read Megumi's comment. He leaned in and then narrows his eyes. "You just hate true love Megumi!"

You smiled at him. "He's a lot, but I love him!"

"They love me, ah!" Satoru says dramatically, starting to act like he was hit by the arrow of love. He slumps on the back of his gaming chair. "I am more in love!"

"Oh, Satoru, be careful." You smiled at him, tapping his arm softly. "The game's about to start."

He turned to you as he leans forward. Satoru starts fumbling wit his own gaming controller with a smirk. “Ready to show these amateurs how it’s done?”

But before you could even pick up your own controller, you were sure that you heard the notification sound. Soon enough, you saw the new comment popped up on the screen. It was from Shoko. 

Shoko: “Actually, I just wanted to say your hair looks amazing today, babes. Oh, and by the way. I’m free tonight if you wanna hang out. I’m nearby, if you wanna go clubbing.”

You burst out laughing, quickly typing back as you talk it out loud. “Thanks, Shoko! Maybe we can grab drinks later. Satoru doesn’t mind, do you?” You shot Satoru a teasing look, eyes glinting with mischief.

Satoru froze, his playful grin faltering for just a second before he shot a mock glare at you. “Excuse me?” He leaned toward the camera dramatically, addressing Shoko directly. 

You giggle. “It would be fun! Shoko thinks I’m pretty! You have that in common, we’ll get along!”

“What is this? Flirting with my partner on my livestream? Rude.” He shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “First, they steal my heart, and now you’re trying to steal them from me, too? At least give me a chance to enjoy being back home!”

You snickered, leaning into his shoulder. “Shoko’s just appreciating what she sees. Can you blame her?”

Shoko: “Exactly. Someone around here has to appreciate your beauty for what it is, babes. And it ain’t Gojo Satoru!”

Satoru groaned loudly, slapping a hand to his forehead. “I’ve been home for five minutes, and I’m already fighting for my life.” He glanced at the camera, eyes wide in mock horror. “Help me, chat. This is supposed to be our time, and now I’m stuck playing third wheel in my own relationship.”

The comments section erupted with laughter.

And of course, a lot of teasing for Satoru.

You grinned even wider at him.

NobaraK: “Shoko is winning the game and she’s not even playing.”

Megumi: “This is why I don’t watch these streams. It’s always chaos.”

YujiItadori: “This is amazing. Gojo Satoru who?”

Determined to regain control, Satoru pulled you closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he looked straight at the computer camera. Your boyfriend's face was certainly echoing that childish pout was all too evident on his features.

“Alright, enough of this betrayal!” he said with a grin. “Let’s focus on what’s important for all of the world’s happiness and that’s us destroying everyone in this game, together. The real dream team.” 

He lifted your hand with the controller, making you both move in sync to start the game. But even as the game started, the playful banter didn’t stop. Satoru kept glancing at the chat, where Shoko continued to drop flirty comments for you, egging you on.

You of course couldn't help but match her energy and played along. As the game continued, you were periodically sending back winks and typing responses that made Satoru groan even louder and you stopped, putting it down with a laugh. 

“Why do you enjoy tormenting me like this?” he whined, though his smile never left his face.

You just grinned. “Because it’s fun. And you’re cute when you pout.”

He paused the game for a second, dramatically clutching his chest. “Cute? I’m not supposed to be cute! I’m supposed to be hot and cool and, like, super mysterious!”

Without missing a beat, you leaned closer to the mic and said in a low voice, “Shoko, he’s not mysterious at all. He leaves his socks everywhere and talks in his sleep.”

Satoru’s bright eyes widened in mock betrayal, and the chat exploded again.

Shoko: “Noted. Definitely better off hanging out with you later.”

YujiItadori: “HIS SOCKS??? WHAT????”

“You’re supposed to be on my side, baby!” Satoru cried, laughing so hard he could barely hold his controller. “I just got back, and this is what I come home to—slander!”

But beneath all the playful chaos and teasing, there was a warmth between you both that even the camera couldn’t miss. Every time Satoru glanced at you, he couldn't help but fold easily.

There was a softness in his eyes, a kind of quiet relief that he was finally home. And even though the flirting and jokes kept flying, it was obvious that he was just happy to be here, with you, sharing this silly moment.

As the stream wrapped up, Satoru threw an arm around your shoulders again, flashing a final grin at the camera.

“Alright, guys, it’s been real. But I think it’s time for me to kick back and enjoy being home with my partner. And Homewrecker Ieiri Shoko, this is for you!” he pointed at the screen with a playful glare. “Hands off.”

He winked, pulling you closer as you both waved goodbye to the viewers. “See you next week—if Shoko doesn’t steal my thunder completely by then.”

Jujutsu Kaisen's Satoru Gojo Brodcasts For A Whole Month For His Partner — Insiders said, 'He's Hopelessly In Love' with them!

In an unexpected turn of events, actor and singer Satoru Gojo has taken the internet by storm, not for his acting chops or musical talent, but for his endearing displays of affection towards his partner during his gaming livestreams.

The mega superstar who has always been more private about his life out of work is now screaming from the rooftops. He screams for his love towards them. And he's not going to stop.

The actor in a short few weeks have become a viral sensation as fans and media outlets alike can’t get enough of how "hopelessly in love" he is.

What started as casual, late-night gaming sessions on Twitch quickly turned into a phenomenon as viewers noticed something beyond the usual gaming commentary. Gojo Satoru’s soft, love-struck behavior whenever his partner joined the chat was heartwarming to his audience.

Whether it was him gushing about his partner’s smile, dedicating his game victories to them, or just pausing the action to talk sweetly, Gojo Satoru’s streams became must-watch content.

One memorable moment that caught the attention of fans worldwide was when Gojo, in the middle of an intense match, suddenly smiled and blushed, saying, “I just got a text from my partner. Everything stops when they message me.”

This short clip has since gone viral among the netizens and especially with his global group of fans. This has been received with immense positivity and love, with fans dubbing him “the ultimate simp” in the most affectionate way possible.

It’s not just the fans who have been swept away by Gojo’s open adoration. Major media outlets have picked up on the story, with headlines like “Satoru Gojo: Hollywood’s Ultimate Romantic” and “Inside the Heart of a Superstar: Gojo Satoru is Head Over Heels.”

And one good bet, with his massive popularity, he would go beyond viral. Indeed, that's what happened! Social media is flooded with clips from his livestreams, showing him talking about his love for his beloved partner with a soft grin that could melt anyone’s heart.

"I never thought I’d be watching an action game to see a rom-com play out!" one fan commented on Twitter.

Another added. "Forget the game, I’m here for Gojo Satoru being jealous about Shoko Ieiri flirting with his partner!”

In interviews, Gojo Satoru has remained unbothered by the sudden attention. “I just love them, really.” he said, shrugging with a sheepish grin when asked about the viral clips. "They’re my everything, so yeah, I’m a little obsessed."

Fans have now turned into self-proclaimed shippers of Gojo Satoru and his partner, creating fan art, videos, and even shipping hashtags. While Gojo Satoru continues his career as a heartthrob in film and music, it’s his real-life love story that’s currently winning over the internet with a happily devoted live update.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Thank U

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violenc, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bruce Wayne/Batman (Christian Bale version)

Summary: you try to thank the vigilante who saved your life.

In the same universe as Home Sweet Home

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

‘To Batman’ 

No, that sounds ridiculous. All of this is just absurd. You don’t really think this will go anywhere but you just need to get the thoughts out. After a sleepless night, you need to put it somewhere before it boils over inside of you. 

You need to thank the man who saved you. If that’s what he is. He seems inhuman with all that he does for Gotham. 

‘My hero’ 

Ugh. New page. 

‘Hi. 

You don’t know me, but you saved my life. I know I’m not the only one and I hope I’m not the only one to say thanks. That’s what this is. I know it isn’t much but I’m not sure how else to do this. 

If you don’t remember me, that’s okay. I was walking home and there was a man following me. Then two. Then three. Then you were there. 

And just as quick, you were gone and so were they. I didn’t get the chance to thank you but I got home safe. Because of you. 

Batman. My hero. 

I owe you my life. 

Stay safe. 

Just another Gotham citizen.’ 

You reread the letter and cringe. What are you doing? You’re crazy. Is this pick-me energy? 

Ugh. You just can’t get over it. Your heart races every time the scene plays out in your head. Those men, their footfalls echoing yours, getting closer and closer, penning you in as they came at you from all sides. 

Your shoulders rose as you shrunk down and braced yourself for a heedless fight. Then the sudden flapping, the crash and crunch of violence, the shadows at battle against the brick wall as you stood by helplessly. Then the silence and his grizzled command. 

‘Go home.’ 

You ran all the way there. You didn’t look back or stop. And you didn’t sleep. You couldn’t. The dregs of adrenaline are still in you. 

Fatigue finally sets in as the sun rises. You fold up the letter and slide it into and envelope. You don’t expect this to go well. You don’t know what you’re doing. 

You’re in the same clothes as the night before. You feel like you’ve been frozen. That night fogs around you like a cloud. So close... it could’ve been so much worse. You could have been another news story. Another body in and alley. 

You walk down to the precinct. You stare at the doors for a while before you make yourself enter. The last time you went there, the only time, they wouldn’t even file a report about the man who sleeps outside your apartment door. He went away though... just a few days later. 

You go up to the counter. 

“Hi, erm, I need to get this to Commissioner Gordon.” You say. 

The uniformed officer doesn’t look up. He laughs.  

“It’s just a letter,” you plead. 

“Girl, you’re wasting everyone’s time right now,” the man doesn’t look away from the computer screen. 

“Please,” you hold the envelope through the little gap under the thick plastic window. 

“What’s this? A love letter?” He scoffs. 

“Joe, don’t be a dick,” another officer approaches and takes the letter. “I’ll give it to him.” 

“Oh, thank you so much,” you preen. 

“Don’t know if he’ll read it,” he mutters. 

“He just needs to look on the outside,” you point. 

He flips the envelope and reads your writing; ‘Batman, c/o Commissioner Gordon’. He tilts his head as he looks up at you. He shrugs. 

“Whatever, it’s a reason to stretch my legs,” he wiggles the letter between his fingers. “Have a good day, ma’am.” 

“Thanks, officer.” 

You turn and scurry out of the precinct. You don’t think the caped crusader will ever see that letter but at least you tried. It might not help you sleep at night, but it will be one less thing keeping you awake. 

[salty-autistic-writer]

Bucktommy with some “had a crush” ChimTommy. (Inspired by the stills for episode 6)

(AO3 Link)

“Do you know I used to have a crush on you?”

Tommy almost chokes on a piece of white bread and wouldn’t that be hilarious? Pulling an Evan right in front of Howie?

Howie, who is responsible for Tommy and Evan meeting in the first place? Without Howie, this wouldn’t be possible. Nothing of this. They wouldn’t sit at the table in Evan’s loft. They wouldn’t eat dinner together. They wouldn’t talk about old and new times.

Tommy wouldn’t be even alive without Howie.

And now …

“What?” He sputters, baffled.

“Yeah.” Howie is patting Tommy’s back with a half-amused, half-worried expression. “Please don’t die on me now. Not again. I might be too drunk to make good decisions right now.”

Tommy shakes his head and reaches for his bottle to pour the pesky bread down with some beer. “I’m good. But … What do you mean you had a crush on me?!”

Howie shrugs. He takes another sip of his beer, his cheeks a little flushed. “Look. No one can blame me. You’re ridiculously handsome and cool.”

“Thank you,” Tommy says, flustered. He feels a sting too though. Old guilt. “I wish I wouldn’t have been such an asshole. You tried so hard even though the first impression you got from me was a racist remark. And I pushed you away.” Hard. He pushed hard. Still remembers the irritation he felt when that new guy just wouldn’t give up. Wouldn’t shut up. Wouldn’t stop being so heartachingly nice. Tommy didn’t know how to deal with that.

Howie hums and nods. “I remember. I was there. Look. We talked about this. Many times. You apologised. I told you I forgive you. We are good. So I really hope you don’t think you still have some kind of debt to pay.”

Tommy swallows. He looks down at his feet, suddenly feeling guilty and bashful. “Well, there’s something I should tell you … I promised myself to be more open in general. We had some talks, Evan and I. About things like holding back truths. Keeping feelings a secret. And I don't want to do that anymore. So, um, you should know that I also had a little crush on you.”

“No way, man,” Howie leans back and chortles. “No way! That's amazing.”

“Well. Yeah,” Tommy smiles weakly. “You were kind. Funny. Capable. Handsome. And after you saved my life … When I saw you at the hospital, showing up and acting like it’s a normal thing to do. Well. I couldn’t really help myself.”

He remembers their hug. He wanted to put everything he felt back then into that hug. Did he succeed? He'll never know. But he tried.

“Imagine,” Howie says, his eyes getting a distant look like he really does already imagine. “Everything could have been so different. But here’s the thing. As flattered as I am, I wouldn’t want things to be different.”

Tommy nods seriously. “Same.”

“Maddie is the one, man,” Howie says dreamily.

Tommy smiles. “I can see that.”

Everyone can see the love. It’s in the glances Howie and Maddie exchange. In the familiar gentleness of their touches and in the fond way they smile at each other when Jee does something cute. And Tommy is happy for them. For what they found and built. What they fought for.

“I would do anything for her,” Howie adds seriously, then raises a brow and moves to clink his bottle together with Tommy’s. “To love.”

“To love,” Tommy says, his mouth suddenly dry.

Love.

Later, when Evan comes home, Tommy still sits at the table and fidgets, lost in his thoughts and memories.

“Hey. You okay?” Evan asks, tilting his head with a small smile and a barely-there frown. “You seem … distant.”

Tommy shakes his head, folding his hands. “No. I’m fine. I was just thinking. Howie and I talked a lot today.”

“Well, I hope he didn’t tell you all the embarrassing stories about when I started at the 118 as a careless, reckless hothead,” Evan chuckles, putting a hand on his hip and leaning against the kitchen counter, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed. “I talked to Maddie and Josh a lot too today.”

“Oh?” It’s Tommy’s turn to raise a teasing brow. “About me?”

“Maybe,” Evan says, the corners of his mouth twitching and the blush spreading on his face.

After that, a moment of silence stretches between them. It feels … loaded with emotion somehow. It feels like they both want to say something but still hesitate because it feels so significant that they forget how to express it.

But Tommy has too much experience with keeping things to himself. He also knows that time is never a given thing. You never know what will happen tomorrow. Never know how much time is left in a life’s hourglass.

He clears his throat. “Evan. I have to tell you something. I -”

“I love you!” Evan blurts.

Tommy’s breath hitches. Everything seems to slow down until there’s nothing but the echo of Evan’s words.

“I love you,” Evan repeats and he’s wide-eyed, tears glistening in the blue. “I do. And I know we have had some … talks lately. About some serious things. About your past and my past. And, and you don’t have to say it back. Not yet. It’s okay. I needed to say it though. I needed you to know. Because -”

Before he can ramble on, Tommy is already on his feet and reaches for Evan, cupping his face and capturing his open lips in a kiss.

Love.

That’s love.

“I love you too, Evan.”

[perfectlyoongi]

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who asked to get to know you first before starting the relationship. before he even met you, Hoseok knew that the person he was looking for would start to be part of his life with a regularity that he would have to make sure you were the ideal person for him. as such, before you even talked about limits and rules, Hoseok invited you to a simple dinner in the hopes of getting to know something more about you. yes, he had your name and knew where you were working; but Hoseok wanted to know more, something that wasn’t as superficial as your age and where you went to school. he wanted to get to know you: Hoseok wanted to know what you liked to do and all the things that made you happy; Hoseok wanted to know what your dream was as a child and how you still wanted to achieve it; Hoseok wanted to know more about you – he wanted to know what your soul was made of. “thank you for agreeing to go out with me. i hope you understand that i am not the only one to benefit from our date. i also want you to get to know me before accepting me.”

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who arranged a private driver for you. even though Hoseok liked to take you to places and outings himself, there were times when he was too busy or you simply wanted to go somewhere when he wasn’t in town. as such, to alleviate some of your anxiety about being behind a steering wheel, or the nervousness of chasing buses or taxis, Hoseok hired a driver especially for you. at any time, wherever you were, whenever Hoseok couldn’t reach you, he encouraged you to call your driver, knowing perfectly well that, even though you were far from him, you would be safe in the hands of a person he trusted. “i promise to take you on one of those nighttime car trips you love so much. but now i’m about to go into a meeting and i don’t know when i’ll arrive. call him today. tomorrow you are mine.”

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who is addicted to kissing your skin. for entire mornings, the two of you enjoyed the first rays of sunlight wrapped in sheets of devotion. behind you, kissing every part of you, Hoseok made a point of lingering in this little ritual of yours. one of his hands always held your waist, caressing skin up skin down, while his tender lips sanctified your skin. little by little, as the seconds called out to you, you let your head gently tilt back, eyes closed, smile on your face. Hoseok always knew how to relax every nerve in your body. your shoulder, tired of carrying all the weight of the world – one, two, three kisses; your neck, tired of accumulating all the stress of living – ooooone, twoooooo, threeeeeee kisses; your jaw, tired of eating your emotions – one,two,three kisses; your lips, tired of forcing so many smiles – one, one, one, one, one, two., three…

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who likes to shop with you. of course, Hoseok always thought of gifts to offer you as a surprise, just to thank you for the simple fact that you were in his life. but what really cheered Hoseok up, what really put a wide smile on his lips and an intense sparkle in his eyes, was when he saw you walking distractedly through the stores, looking intently at everything but him. he couldn’t explain it, and he would never admit it to you, but seeing you in those big stores, walking through aisles of color and texture always thinking about what you might want, what would catch your attention, made Hoseok dream. during this time, when you didn’t mind going for the most expensive shoes, or paid attention to anyone who might be on your side, you seemed to be a part of Hoseok’s life. yes, you have a special relationship and you are present in each other’s lives almost constantly; but there, in control of yourself, just asking Hoseok for the card to pay made him believe that he was worthy of having a life with someone, with you. “tomorrow and friday are my days off. do you want to go buy some clothes so we can go to dinner on friday? you can choose the restaurant this time. see you tomorrow.”

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who wants to know everything you wanted when you were little so he could gift it to you. a tree house with a sink that actually works for you to wash the fruit you stole straight from the tree. a trip to that theme park just to ride the attraction you never had the chance to experience. the complete barbie movie collection with a doll-sized wardrobe from each film for you to play with in your big gi ant   e n o r m o u s  dollhouse. eat only ice cream for breakfast, tacos for lunch and pizza for dinner all weekend long. even a trip to a country that wasn’t within driving distance. “how many times do I have to tell you? everything, everything, e ve ry thing! don’t hide anything from me. even if it’s impossible.” when Hoseok asked you for everything, he really meant everything. all your dreams would now be lived and your inner child would heal, hug you, and tell you they are so happy you made it this far – you deserved everything.

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who always asks if you’re okay. after a smile, before a tear, during a silence, Hoseok was always thinking about your well-being. already spending so much time with you, he wanted to believe that he already knew you well enough to pick up on all your little mannerisms that you did when you were less excited. but there were still moments when he pondered. was that smile real? your laugh sounded fake, but your joke slid so smoothly from your mouth. no, that look in your eyes, you weren’t okay. right? better to ask and be greeted with a smile than to ignore that side of you and force you to live when you just want to rest. Hoseok’s priority was you. Hoseok’s priority was your well-being. he just wanted to confirm that he was doing a good job. “you arrived earlier than we agreed. did i get the time wrong? what? your face. your eyes – you can’t look at me. what is it? are you okay?”

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK that makes you the only person in his life. what else could Hoseok do? what else could Hoseok say? go, tell him. give him exact instructions on how he should treat and love you. tell him word by word, l e t t e r   by   l e t t e r, everything he has to give you. please just say it, tell him. there was no one else Hoseok wanted to please. there was no one else Hoseok wanted to keep in his life. just you. so, give him the exact ingredients so he can create the perfect recipe for loving you. “it’s no big deal. nothing is ever too much when it’s for you. for you, i’m sure i was capable of draining all the water from the oceans for you to build a sand empire just because you want to. i know i would go to the ends of the world if it made you happy, and i would add more to the world if that was what you wanted. please let me love you.”

[bougiebutchbinch]

I’m back to talk about transfemme Wade (who I think would refuse to go by Wanda bc “we already have one of them, don’t wanna confuse the fans!”) but in an embarrassing amount of thought so anon-

I feel like she has so many wigs that sit along the wall of their room, one for every occasion (Logan talked her out of getting a massive Miku length one bc she would never take care of it Well enough-), her favorite is the Barbie of just a cute blonde ponytail that sometimes she’d clip colorful strips into. Sometimes she showers wearing a wig for the Euphoria of her bf being pissed there’s a bunch of plastic in the drain- she goes through so many phases of what style she likes, their living room was full of amazon boxes at some point and Logan was ‘forced’ to sit through a fashion show and give his opinions, and while he doesn’t know the difference between Lolita (THE STYLE THE STYLE!!!!) and Harijuku, all he knows is his girl is beaming and rambling a mile a minute and he can’t make himself veto any outfit she shows off. Unfortunately his real favorite look of hers involves the same t shirts and boxers she wore before coming out, no makeup, no wig, face mushed into his chest and just Content as can be. He doesn’t care about her putting on a big effort to look femme (though will always lovingly praise looks so the RSD doesn’t trigger), as long as she’s happy and safe, he’s so lucky to have her 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 anyways I go ESPLODE NOW thinking of my self ship with her-

WAILS AND RUBS MY FACE ALL OVER THIS LIKE A HAPPY CAT

AWHHHHHHH

she is everything to me. EVERYTHINGGGGG

[UNDER A CUT for discussions of bottom dysphoria - as well as related self-inflicted violence, but in a Poolverine way where violence is consensual and sexy and fun for everyone involved!]

I need her to be happy and to find joy and to have a million wigs and for Logan to love her just as much with them as without them, while bitching something rotten while he pulls the gross wads of plastic faux-hair out the drain

I need her to drape herself over Logan's lap like a happy housecat only Logan's the one who starts (embarrassedly) purring as he strokes her because he's so delighted and comfortable in his life right now~ And Wade is just being VIBRATED by the very loud proof of her boyfriend's love of her.... And she is smiling the GOOFIEST grin while Logan turns bright red!

I need her to turn to Logan after a long day of murder and they start pulling voraciously at each other's clothes - only Logan freezes STARSTRUCK because. Damn. And Wade's kinda confused and a bit self conscious, but tries to hide it under jokes until Logan says in this gruff, choked voice - "You look so fucking good in red" and she looks down to see where she's pulling off her costume and she's just fucking covered in this glossy red satin dress of her own blood ❤️

(And Logan maybe buys her a long red evening dress that she's probably never gonna have occasion to wear, but he's flushing so much when he presents it that he almost matches the colour, and he wants to see her in it so bad, and whenever Wade wears it around the house just casually, she gets picked up and fucked against the nearest wall lmao)

I need Logan dipping her effortlessly in a kiss, and she feels so fucking weightless in his arms ❤️

I need them baking together before Laura comes around and they both keep burning shit but they're laughing and having a good time and there's a smudge of flour on Wade's nose and Logan is imploding internally over how cute she is

I also need her to casually say to Logan one day when the Bottom Dysphoria is particularly bad, 'hey can you chop off my dick while fucking me and then just keep chopping it off whenever it tries to grow back??' and Logan is like 'what the fuck babe' and 'I have a vague sense that I shouldn't enable this' and 'babe are you fucking sure' and Wade is like 'yeah I get off on pain and that would make me very very happy, plus it will do no lasting damage <3' and Logan is like 'OOKAY I GUESS' and then they have fun horrific bloody mutilation sex that would look absolutely awful to anyone else but is actually very tender and affirming and cute

[lillotte17]

The Music Room

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS‼- Do Not Read unless you have completed the Dread Wolf's Regrets quest!!!!

AN: I have not finished the game, so I don't know if this will actually be part of my canon yet, but the world is currently awful and I...needed to be making something. But as I said: I have NOT finished the game yet, so if you leave a comment (pls and thank) do NOT write anything with spoilers in it!!!

Okay, on with the show!

~

Rill finds Inquisitor Lavellan sitting at the harpsichord in the music room. All of the other rooms at the Lighthouse had seemed barren when they had first started using it as their base, and even this one had apparently been used as some sort of storage space -there was an alarming amount of cheese for some reason- but the quiet here feels different in a way that is hard to quantify. Peaceful, as opposed to desolate. The light pouring through the windows is always bright in here. Always warm. The murals on the walls were still vivid when they came. Colorful and new. The most prominent one bears the symbol of the Inquisition flanked by howling wolves.

The woman contemplating it does not look like the fearsome hero who closed a hole in the sky and stopped the southern half of the world from falling into chaos, though. She looks small. And tired. And sad.

Rill clears her throat, feeling awkward.

“So. Not trying to complain or anything, but when you asked to come here, you did say that you could help by giving us insight into Solas’ history and his way of thinking and… Well. You were pretty quiet in there while we watched those memories.”

“I know,” Aili sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I knew some of it. Bits of things he told me himself. Things I figured out…afterwards. And I knew there would be more. More I didn’t know. He’s thousands of years old, so I knew that the story of his life would be more than what he had told me, but…”

“It’s a lot.” Rill hums in agreement.

“Bit of an understatement,” Aili snorts. Her gaze drifts down, and she runs her fingers over the instrument in front of her. “…I didn’t even know he played.”

“So, tell me what you do know,” Rill says, casually plopping down onto a nearby crate, “It’s probably more helpful than you think.”

“I know… I know that he hates tea.”

“Right. Noted. Probably shouldn’t offer him any of Lucanis’ coffee either, then.” Rill grins, folding her arms across her chest.

“Probably not,” Aili agrees, returning the smile faintly. “He has a sweet tooth, though. He loves books. Loves learning. And teaching, too. He was always happy to share stories about places he had been, or spirits he had talked to. He paints beautifully. And he sketches, too. He doesn’t laugh very often, but when he does, it’s…”

She trails off, her face creased with grief and faint traces of longing.

“I’m sorry.”  She says again.

Rill shakes her head at the apology but gives her a curious look afterwards.

“You said that Solas was important to you; I’m guessing you didn’t mean that you were just really good friends?”

Aili shrugs.

“I thought that we were…something.” She glances around the room again, eyes landing on the mural of the slain dragon and the mourning wolf above it. “Now I’m not sure if even that was true.”

“Is that something he would lie about?” Rill wonders, her eyebrows ticking upwards, “Because that would be some valuable insight. He doesn’t strike me as the sort to use seduction as a manipulation tactic, but he seems comfortable twisting the truth about everything else, so…”

Aili sits for a moment in silence, frowning in consideration before finally shaking her he in the negative.

“It’s… No.” She fumbles briefly. “I know that given…given everything we’ve seen, it might be hard to believe, but… He has a kind heart. Truly. He wants to do the right thing. He believes in justice, and he wants things to be fair. He wants to help people when he sees them suffering. And he blames himself when he can’t. He just…comes to the wrong conclusions, sometimes, and he struggles to ask for help when he needs it. He… There would be no reason to -no point- in lying about his feelings for me. I was already his friend, and I took his advice seriously. He had my ear and my protection. He wouldn’t get anything out of it unless his intention was to be needlessly cruel, and…he’s not like that. He isn’t.”

“Then why were you doubting that you had something?”

“It’s…complicated.” Aili sighs. “It’s about time, I think. Or at least, part of it is. He feels things deeply. Passionately. Even if you can’t tell which words he’s telling you are true, you can always tell when something matters to him. And this place… Mythal is everywhere. In every mural. In every room. Statues. Paintings. Symbols. Everything is about her. For her. Even now. Even after taking Flemmeth’s power and essentially killing her himself. His love for her, whatever shape or form it might have had, has colored every aspect of his life since the beginning of the world. And compared to that…”

Shit taps a single key on the harpsichord, letting out a high clear note.

“Mythal is the All-Mother. The Protecter. The bright and beguiling moon. And I…I am barely a candle flame.”

“You’re the Inquisitor. The Savior of the South. People still call you the ‘Herald of Andraste.’ You disbanded the Inquisition, and still managed to bring enough people together to hold back the darkspawn hordes while I fight the gods up here in the North. I think you might be selling yourself a bit short.” Rill says with a curl of her lips, trying to be kind.

“There will always be heroes, just as there will always be despots. I’m hardly unique in that respect.” Aili replies, striking another key. “A puny mortal striking back at false gods probably reminded him of his own past. His own struggles. Maybe that was it. Maybe there’s even something about me that made him think of Mythal. I don’t know. I don’t know what he saw in me. Or thought he saw. But look around. There are a few Inquisition symbols in this room, but beyond that… There is no trace of me in this place. Nothing he held onto. Nothing he felt was worth keeping.” 

Rill frowns. Fidgeting with her hands. Itching to pull out a blade to play with, but uncertain if the move would been seen as a threat.

“Sorry.” She offers after a few moments of silence. “I try not to talk to him very often, for obvious reasons. It’s still a bit creepy, if I’m being honest. Even if I did, though, I don’t think his romantic life would be something he’d be keen to tell me about.”

“It’s not your fault,” Aili assures her with a smile that does not reach her eyes, “He wasn’t keen to tell me either.”

“The Fade’s a funny place, though,” Rill says, gesturing at their surroundings, “I’m not always sure which bits of the things we’ve found here are from Solas, and which things we brought along ourselves. Lucanis found a book he used to read as a kid. Harding says she can smell her mom’s cooking sometimes. Neve said she can hear the sea when she wakes up in the mornings. Things like that, you know?”

The Inquisitor nods.

“Not surprising, given the nature of this place and the person who built it.” Aili says. “This was a refuge. For spirits and slaves fleeing tyranny. And for Solas himself, too. It wants to be welcoming. It wants you to feel safe.”

“It was different when we got here, though.” Rill tells her. “Bit empty. Bit sad. Lonely, almost.”

“Sounds like Solas,” Aili sighs, something close to exasperated fondness.

“This room though…” Rill sits up straighter, turning her head to glance at the sunlight painting patterns on the already painted walls. “It was always like this. It may be small and tucked away, but it’s honestly one of my favorite places in the Lighthouse. It’s always a little warmer in here. The sun’s always shining through the windows. The quiet in here feels like…comfort. Like home.”

“I feel like you’re trying to lead me somewhere, but I’m not sure where it is,” Aili chuckles.

“Well, you said it yourself, didn’t you?” Rill grins back at her, “This is the only room with Inquisition symbols in it.”

Aili blinks. Makes a face.

“There are also murals of Mythal in here. Because she’s everywhere.”

It is Rill’s turn to sigh.

“Maybe she is. Maybe he couldn’t escape from her. Maybe he never will. What she did. What she made him do. What was done to her. But the library with all his memories of her is big and dark and gloomy. And the statues of her are stiff and aloof and cold. And the little room upstairs he shoved a cot into to sleep is…just depressing, really.”

 She catches the older woman’s gaze. Holds it.

“It’s called the Lighthouse, but the beacon at the top isn’t where the light is. It’s not in some huge memorial room dedicated to Mythal. It’s here. There’s a chair with your seal on it, almost waiting for you to sit and watch him play. There’s the paintings on the walls. There’s… Look, when did this become me telling you about the Dread Wolf’s heart?”

“I have no idea,” Aili laughs in earnest this time.

“Really though, this is a good room. I like to sit and read by the windows in here sometimes. The light in here always makes be think of summer afternoons. The air has a sweetness to it, too. Something flowery. Heather, maybe. Or Lavender.”

Aili starts, her eyes going wide.

“What’s wrong?” Rill asks.

“You said it smells like lavender in here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“It’s…the soap I use. For my hair. I always have.”

“Well, there you have it!” Rill grins in triumph. “He kept your memory here. Away from his regrets. Somewhere bright and happy. Well…as happy as Solas gets, anyway. Not too bad for a candle flame, eh?”

Aili laughs again.

“Thank you, Rook.”

[affableramen]

asking them if they actually love you

fluffy angst, established relationships wriothesley, neuvillette, pantalone, capitano, dottore

Wriothesley

The duke was working at his desk in his private office when you walked in with no lively expression on your face. Wriothesley tore his eyes off from the cup of tea and saw you looking expressively exhausted.

“Wow, someone’s had a tough day”, he chuckled, “you look exhausted, babe.”

Ignoring his childish manner you asked him rather simply:

“Wrio, I have just one question. Do you even love me?”

Wriothesley choked on his tea.

“Love you? Of course I—I do.”

You did not have to question his frankness as Wriothesley has always been an explicitly blunt person. He would never lie in such occasions and certainly would tell you if he disliked something.

Having received his answer on the wobbly legs but with a contented smile, you lurked to his desk and hugged him from the side.

“Wrio, I’m just so tired and I’m in diiiire need of your cuddles.” You surprised him with a nice peck to his cheek.

Seeing you giving in to stress and overwhelmed all over Wriothesley could not help but started feeling upset too. He gently pulled your face close to him, his big gloved hand laid on your cheek in a loving way.

“Girl, someone has been working non-stop I see. Or should I say studying? M?”

He was clearly not happy with your sufferings. Being a workaholic himself Wriothesley knew how easy it is to overwhelm oneself. But he did not want this fate for you. Due to the sudden friction of you leaning to his chest to get sense of comfort, the work papers from Wriothesley’s desk had dropped onto the floor. You were lucky the ink remained still.

“Oops. Seems like you wanted to hug me so much you did not spare the poor sheets.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Wrio!”

“Ah, whatever.” He looked down indifferently. “Girl, I will not calm down until I make sure you’re in your bed, sleeping.”

“I’ll be fine. I can get home on my own.”

Wriothesley raised from his desk and discreetly walked you out of his office.

“I’m going to get you home and you’ll rest. That is unnegotiable.”

Neuvillette

Neuvillette was a closed, solitary man who experienced some difficulties when it came to relationship dynamics. Deep inside his heart he was, nonetheless, a pure romantic. He’d always come to your dates earlier, looking nothing but polished; and with incredibly serious (but polite) manner he would court you.

He was always a husband material and he let you know how important you are in his life any time he could. He was dedicated to you wholeheartedly, and even though at first time you were much scared off by his cold, aloof, professional-like appearance, later you found yourself falling in love with him too, until the both of you grew tightly attached to each other.

You knew you should not question or doubt his affections, but you had a terrible day and you only saw your world dark and hollow. It was when your shift ended that Neuvillette entered your office only to find you drowning in your work overtime. Or perhaps—no, it was your studies, your homework.

“Darling, were you doing your studies at work? I thought we’d agree that you would not overexert yourself.”

“I know…” you mumble, caffeine in you refusing to help anymore. “But at home I want to sleep. So when I finished my paperwork, I started doing my studies.”

“I see.” Neuvillette walked closely and took a look at your work sheets. “Dear, you have some mistakes here…But that’s not important now. I’ll give you a lift to home.”

You looked at Neuvillette bewildered.

“Home?”

“It’s evening already.”

“Neuvillette—” you asked him when he gently pulled you out from the desk by your hand. He gave you a surprised look. Judging by your face you were dead serious about asking something, so he kept quiet, letting you speak. “Do you like, love me?”

He was flustered at first, but only mildly. Neuvillette cleared his throat and adjusting his collar he answered with the equal seriousness:

“That I do. Why, have I made you doubt my affections?”

“No. I was just messing with you… I’m having a bad day.”

“I love you”, he said as if picking up your disappointed mood, he continued confessing to you in a frenzy: “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He smooched your cheek before leading you out of the office. “And I will make sure you won’t overwhelm yourself like today.”

Pantalone

“Do you even love me…” you wonder out loud, your chin laying on your arm as you’re doing the paper work.

“Love is a foolish concept for foolish people. It only softens your senses and makes you miserable. I cannot afford being miserable, vulnerable or weak”, Pantalone responds—his words a well-polished conviction he made himself believe in. Although, his looks is harsh on you and he states that in a rough manner, his gaze does not leave your exhausted image not for a moment of time.

Tired and exhausted, you are lying on the desk before the papers.

“So now you’re collapsing on my desk? Did no one teach you proper manners?” he inquires with a tone so ambiguous and indefinite that no one can truly guess if he’s fooling around or scolding you quite seriously.

“So you don’t”, you respond quietly. What were you even thinking… Of course a Harbinger—especially one of the oldest, probably no longer sensitive to feelings—Regrator would ever love you.

“There’s no point of me loving you, really. Love’s a poison, and I cannot let myself be poisoned, for there are many people who’d prefer me dead. I suffered too many assassination attempts to grow a sense of preservation in myself. Besides, where have you heard about love in business?” As always, the talkative man he is Pantalone would not stop blabbering a second. But seeing you close your eyes as he came closer, he whispered quietly, but audible enough for you to hear:

“I love you.”

Perhaps he did not even consider the words which slipped so fast from his lips. He wanted to cover his mouth shut to hide his embarrassment, but then he did not see a point in this.

“Thanks…” said the sleepy you, the next second falling asleep on the papers. “I … love you… too…”

“You’re an idiot. When will you stop mixing work and studies? Come, I’ll get you to bed.”

He gently pulled you into his arms and carried you through the dimly lit corridor. He placed you on your silky bed sheets, his hand moving to caress your cheek.

“You need to take better care of yourself. You can’t keep being so overwhelmed with both work and university. Now, sleep.”

He kisses your cheek, his lips linger for a few moments…

“I’m so exhausted.”

“I know. Sleep, my dear.”

He switched the lights off and slowly raised from the bed, afraid to do any friction that would tear you off from the sleepy state.

Capitano

“Capitano”, you called him from the middle of the living room, while you were studying near the fireplace.

He was just about to enter the room when you side eyed him and the familiar smell of spicy perfume seemed to fill the half of the air.

“Do you even love me, Capitano?”

He stood there, frozen at your question, not knowing what to respond because you usually would not have audacity to ask him something way too personal. It must have been a damn good reason for you to strike him so deeply.

“Hmph. What do you think?” He stopped in the frame of the entrance, his big arms crossed as he leaned onto the frame.

“I don't know, you tell me.” You did not tear your gaze of the book, as if taunting him. But he did not suspect that you were genuinely exhausted at that moment and sook to be comforted.

“Do you think I’d let you lurk in my house on weekends if I did not? Do you think I would ask my servants to prepare the finest meals for you, neatly accordingly to your allergies?” He grunts, unsatisfied and irritated. “Do you think I’d even let you talk to me so boldly if I did not want you by my side?”

You finally raised your head at him, leaving the book behind and gave him a satisfied but undoubtedly cunning smile.

“Capitano, my love, you’re so cute when you’re grumpy.”

“I just don't see a point in asking something so obvious.”

“You and your rational thinking. What if I just wanted to hear you sweet talking to me?”

Capitano was speechless. He knew how cunning you could be, but he did not even imagine that you would be taunting him so badly.

“I’ve had a difficult day. Too much studies, too little rest. I have not much time before exams so I am constantly stressing.”

“You don't have your deserved rest because you kept working even being a student. You need to choose one, woman.”

You sighed at Capitano. How many times did you have to explain to him?..

“I know, but I told you I want to have some cash of my own. I don't want to constantly ask you to buy something for me.”

“But your work kills you. You give so much effort for university, and you give as much to your work. This is unacceptable for your health.” His tone is cold with seriousness. You know he wouldn't change his mind just as you wouldn't change yours.

“Fine, perhaps I’ll work two days instead of three. But Capitano, stop standing there like a statue, sit down next to me. My mind is at peace when you are close.”

“Even if I am simply… sitting here? Doing nothing at all?”

“Even so. But I think you already know that you could hug me since I haven't seen you the whole day~.”

Dottore

“Do you even love me, Dottore?” you asked him plainly with no ceremonies. For a moment Dottore’s hand froze as he was holding the vial. He was standing there in his white medical gown as he mixed some fluids. After a few long moments he finally gave you an answer, his tone indifferent, but you could not see his expression behind the white safety mask.

“You know perfectly I only love science.”

“Guess I should have expected that ans—”

“But I love you. Perhaps, a little less than science, but I do. And I hope you know that”, he cleared his throat, “why’d you even ask that on the first place?”

You took a few steps closer to Dottore, silently lurking behind his back, fearing to ruin his test, but you could not escape his sharp senses.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Continue with your experiment.”

“Uh-huh.” Dottore finally poured the fluids and mixed them properly. When the experiment finished he took his gloves off and you quickly wrapped your arms around his waist before he could run away from you.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, flustered enough to want his face hidden somewhere far from your eyes.

“I missed you, besides I’m very tired. If you don’t want to hug me back, then just stay like this and let me squeeze you.”

Nothing could express Dottore’s astonishment right now. He was most embarrassed, and he is not at all used to such extravagant signs of affections.

“Y/N you fool, careful with where you’re standing, my whole lab is not a playground.”

“I love you too, Dottore.” You delivered a peck to his cheek from behind. That action made Dottore boil immensely, and he finally turned around and leaned against his desk.

“Did something or someone upset you? You don’t usually act so rapidly.”

“Just a bad day in general. I’m exhausted and hungry too. But at least you told me you love me.”

Dottore sighed through teeth. He disliked a mere idea of you being stressed out. He wanted to cheer you up but his heart did not have capacity enough for much open affection.

“Okay, brat. How about we grab a dinner somewhere together? You wanna hot food?”

There were sudden sparkles in your eyes - the only offer from Dottore’s lips made you all shake with excitement and your frustration seemed to brush off.

“I would love to eat out with you right now, Dott.”

“Well in that case”, he glared at you and hissed, “let me finish my job properly. Wait in the vestibule.”

Grinning, you escaped his lab with fast pace, seeing Dottore roll his eyes at your childish excitement.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The chance of William not marrying for love is higher than what most people insist.

I just want to answer this anon. I think people like to think that William and Kate aren’t in love because they look at people through their roles or like generalized labels or like through the lens of rules they think should exist in the universe. As Joan Didion said, we tell ourselves stories in order to live. A lot of people know that royals or aristocrat often marry for money or convenience. It’s true that historically, royals get into arranged marriages.

But I would like to offer a different perspective. We can try and see the humanity in each person. I know that’s difficult to do with royals because they’re so media trained and private. But paying proper attention to the stories of these people, the tiny bit of personality that comes through in their interviews and stuff, sometimes we can see their individual stories, their individual personalities. While it’s true that there’s a high chance that the heir to the throne like William would not marry for love, we can infer from the story of his life laid out that there’s a chance he did. My opinion of William is that he’s actually a lot more transparent than people realize. Or maybe it’s just the result of his parents being Charles and Diana who couldn’t stop themselves leaking left and right in the 90s, that there’s no choice but for a lot of things to be laid bare for us. Of course, William is still very private and we might be wrong in our assessment, but we can’t also always generalize.

What I’m saying is, this is the man who in his engagement interview, didn’t shy away in showing how affected he was about his parent’s past. He said something about learning from the past. We also know from things Diana said and from William’s own demeanor that he’s someone who gives a lot of thought to things. We also know from interviews he’s given as a teenager that he struggles with the fact that his role pulls him in different directions and he’s protective of his self, which can sometimes appear to be stubbornness. What I’m saying is, we can infer from these things that this is a man with his own mind. So I would say that from all the things we think we know about William, there’s also a high chance that he would insist on marrying exactly who he wanted to marry or who he loved.

I would also say that even though we know historically that royals get into arranged marriages, we can’t always be sure of how the story goes. I mean, if we’re looking into history, for example, Henry VII and Elizabeth of York married for political reasons. Their union ended the War of the Roses, and yet most historians would agree that it seems they found love along the way and that Henry VII was one of the monarchs with no known mistress. However, royals can fancy themselves in love too in the beginning but the story doesn’t end in a good note. Henry VIII, for example. I think most historians would also agree that he was enamored with Anne Boleyn. Maybe it wasn’t love, maybe it was lust. But the thing is, he fancied himself in love at the beginning, but obviously it ended horribly. A lot of people also forget that Henry VIII was happy at one point with Catherine of Aragon.

What I’m saying is, while we can all generalize that “oh, royals do not marry for love” or we can have a sense of “oh these rich people are all unhappy!”, but they have their own stories too. And so do we, being “norma people” or not being as rich does not guarantee happiness or finding true love. Marrying for love does not guarantee happily ever after also, but we can only wish the best for everyone.

Thanks, anon! You make some really good points here.

I don't have anything to add except: if royals and aristos aren't supposed to be marrying for love, someone better tell the romance writers because they're out of a job now.

[soshirohoshinasimp]

"Everyone's falling in love and I'm falling behind"

It always starts the same way: I watch it happen, and with each passing moment, the ache in my chest grows sharper, like a constant pressure I can't shake.

Another group chat. Another flood of photos, captions, and text updates from my friends. Another one of them sharing that they’ve met someone special, or that they've been on a date, or that they’re "officially in a relationship." The words blur together, the images become a haze of happy faces, intertwined hands, and promises of forever, while I sit here staring at my screen, feeling like everyone is moving forward, and I’m the only one standing still.

I’m happy for them, of course. I tell them I am. I send my congratulations, my emojis, do my best to sound genuinely thrilled for their happiness. But inside, there’s a quiet, gnawing feeling—that something is slowly being chipped away, like I’m stuck in the same place while the rest of the world keeps running.

It’s not that I don’t try. I fall in love easily—maybe too easily. It’s one of those things I can’t control. A smile, a laugh, the way someone’s eyes linger just a little longer than necessary, and I’m hooked. I imagine all the little things before I even know their last name—walks in the park, late-night conversations, whispered secrets in the dark. I let myself dream about everything that could be, even though I’m the only one dreaming.

The problem isn’t that I fall too quickly. The problem is that no one ever falls in love with me.

I try not to think about it. I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter. But every time another picture of a happy couple pops up, or the group chat explodes with excited updates about how “everything just feels right,” I can’t help but wonder: Why not me?

It’s as if I’m watching from the outside, peering through a foggy window at a life I’ll never belong to. Everyone else has found their someone, their partner, their “person,” while I stand alone at the edge of the crowd, half-smiling, pretending I’m fine, even when it feels like I’m not.

The worst part is that no one means to hurt me. They don’t know how their joy, their shared moments of connection, make me feel like I’m missing something I’ll never find. It’s like they’re all part of a club I can’t seem to get into, no matter how hard I try.

There are times when I catch myself getting too attached—when I start to like someone, a friend, a coworker, maybe just someone who’s kind to me. For a moment, I let myself believe that maybe this time, it’ll be different. This time, maybe they’ll see me the way I see them. But every time, I make the mistake of getting too close, of caring too much, I’m reminded that the love I’m offering isn’t what they want. It’s never what they want.

It’s a strange kind of loneliness, this quiet ache. It’s not loud or dramatic. It’s not a storm—it’s more like a slow drip, a constant reminder that I’m not enough. Not enough to be loved. Not enough to be chosen. Just... not enough.

And still, I hope. Still, I fall again.

I can’t stop myself from falling in love with the idea of love. Even when I know it’s unlikely. Even when I see the signs, when I recognize the patterns. Even when I know I’ll probably get hurt again.

I tell myself it’s okay. I tell myself that I don’t need anyone to complete me. That one day, it’ll happen, that one day, I’ll find someone who looks at me the way I look at them. But with every relationship that starts without me, with every “I’m so in love” post I scroll past, that hope starts to feel more like a dying ember, flickering weaker and weaker until it barely gives off any warmth at all.

Everyone’s falling in love, and I’m falling behind.

I tell myself I’m fine. That I’m strong. That I don’t need anyone else to feel whole. And in the rare moments when the ache doesn’t feel so sharp, I almost believe it. But then another couple announces their engagement, or another friend talks about how perfect their date was, and the ache comes back. A little sharper. A little louder.

I’m happy for them, of course. I’ll always be happy for them. But as I sit there, scrolling through their pictures, their stories, their dreams, I can’t help but wonder: When will it be my turn?

Is it too much to ask for, for a person to give me the love I give out tenfold? Or am i just stuck in my own delusions as usual.

But for now, I’m just waiting. And everyone else is falling in love.

And I’m falling behind.

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason and Roy being friends and using class of 09 characters (less insane):

*It sucks the creator of this game sucks, but these lines are still funny to me since I treat the game as a comedy*

Jason and Roy sat together having lunch at Burger King and discussing a charity event.

Roy: I'm pretty sure Ollie is running a charity scam.

Jason: No, I looked into the organization he's working with are the scammers. His name wasn't on the board of trustees. He's being scammed and the people running it are probably somewhere in Florida.

Roy (confused): How do you know this much about charities?

Jason (serious): My fucking piece of shit dad—who I want to kill—worked for a charity like that.

Roy (exasperated): Is there—okay, we won't explore that one. Do you really think he's not apart of it?

Jason: I doubt your father is smart enough to run a fake charity. He definitely fell for one though, the company is advertising NFTs on Tiktok. If that's not a scam I don't know what is.

Roy: They're advertising what on where?

Jason: It didn't makes any sense to me. Ollie seems like the type of fall for that though.

Roy: I... Yeah he is. Thanks.

Jason: I just find it funny he's that gullible.

---------------------------------------

Roy (agreeing to breaking into a bank): I'm cool with it.

Jason (shouting): Shut the fuck up!

Roy: I said I’m cool with it!

Jason: Nah, not you. I was hearing the voice again, telling me I'm wrong about something.

Roy: That isn’t even odd to me anymore, but have you tried listening to him?

Jason (chuckling): That’s a funny joke.

---------------------------------------

Jason: Do you know what a whip-it is?

Roy: I never did whip-its.

Jason: You look like the type who would use them.

Roy (happy): Oh, thank you!

Jason: That's strange that you took that as a compliment.

---------------------------------------

Jason: Where’s the coward arrow?

Roy: He hasn’t been around since you made him cry… and stuck to your promise about slashing his tires.

Jason: He better be afraid of me, because I’m not the one.

Roy: Oh yeah?

Jason nodded, a serious look crossing his face.

Jason: I don’t like how he talks to you. You’re really cool and smart. Handsome, I’ll admit—and you should be treated as such.

Roy raised an eyebrow, surprised.

Roy: Wow… that… um… have I really been deprived of a compliment for this long?

Jason: We’re friends. I’m going to be nice to you. Don’t worry about it.

Roy: And you're not trying to sell drugs to me?

Jason: You’re a recovering addict and my friend. No, I’m not going to sell you drugs.

Roy: Then I definitely went through it in life.

Jason: Has your dad ever complimented you?

Roy (laughing dryly): Not for a long… long time.

Jason: ‘Cause he doesn’t appreciate what he has. And seriously, Roy, if I ever see him talk to you like that again, I will rip his beating heart out and hand it to you on a silver platter!

Roy: And you’re not trying to have me relapse and then kill me?

Jason: N-no. I like you. You’re neat.

Roy: Oh… hm… the heart platter part is fucked up, but that’s so kind of you. This not being a ploy and you actually wanting to be my friend is still an adjustment.

Jason: Oh my God… you poor thing, you’re welcome. You make me dying seem like a coma. This is why I will be your friend forever! I will not let anyone hurt you, and if they do… they're gonna meet God!

Jason hugged the man, tightly. Roy patted the man’s back and then shrugged accepting this insane friendship.

Roy: Hm… All right.

---------------------------------------

Jason (paranoid): Spontaneous? Are you talking down to me?

Roy: No, it’s just a word that I read about in… um… Wuthering Heights?

Jason: Oh yeah, that’s a good book. I love you.

Roy: All right… Why did that make me feel happy?

Jason: Because you haven’t heard it in a while, and neither have I. That’s why I said it to you. I love you.

Roy: I… heart… you too.

Jason chuckled and pulled Roy into another hug. Roy smiled, confused, but not terrified. He patted Jason on the back, both appreciating the moment.

"You slashed his tires?"

[hausofanya]

“wasn’t she sweet? she really set the tone for the night.”

cléo’s smile is easygoing as she talks to the camera, essentially making small talk with the viewers before someone catches her eyes off camera. she immediately breaks into a wide grin, turning back to the camera. “you guys are gonna love this one.”

it’s not long before another figure appears in view, cléo unable to contain her happiness any longer as she’s quick to extend her arms towards her. before she greets the camera, she lets out an excited squeal at the sight of cléo. she wraps her arms around the girl tightly, beaming as she pulls away, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder.

“hiii~” baebi waves to the camera with a beaming smile, “i’m venus’ leader and main dancer, baebi!”

“you look so good, what the f—oop. edit that out. hi! it’s good to see you after so long!” cléo’s excitement is infectious, practically spilling over. “you need no introduction to me, though. we need to hang out soon. maybe you can dress me up, too? you seriously look amazing. what are you wearing?”

“i am proudly wearing archive bob mackie from 2001,” baebi tells cléo as she puts her hands on her exposed waist, “it's cher inspired. i love cher. beautiful gowns, you know what i mean. i like how it makes me stand out. it's very baebi, if you know what i mean.”

“beautiful gowns is an definitely understatement. what are three things you absolutely cannot live without?”

baebi looks up in thought, her whispy lashes nearly touching her eyebrows as she does so. she hums, glossy lips quirking to the side before she nods slowly, coming up with her answer in her head.

“so, i can’t live without my lipgloss. i don’t care what lip gloss it is, i just need my lips glossed at all times, like, i’m pretty sure that’s how they retain their moisture at this point so...lipgloss, one. two, probably finn lee–i’m just kidding, oh my god–” baebi laughs as cléo instigates silently with raised brows, covering her mouth her hands before playfully hitting cléo’s arm and resting her hand on the other girl's arm as she continues.

“but, seriously, two, would totally be a weighted blanket. my ex-boyfriend got me one and i will say that was the most beneficial thing he’s ever done for me. life changing shit. and three, probably...music! i can't live without music, obviously!”

“what would the world be without music? a soulless chunk of rock, i’ll tell you that.” cléo sends a pointed look to the camera before continuing. “let’s hear about the most insane thing that happened to you this year, hm? was it good? did it make you miserable?”

“well, you know, we did lose a member,” baebi says bluntly with a nod, looking into the camera before making a 'yikes!' face, turning her gaze back to cléo with an awkward laugh. cléo’s gaze turns sympathetic. “that was honestly very crazy. it was a very... dramatic thing...” she puts her hands on her hips taking a deep breath trying to find the right words to describe what it was like for venus to suddenly become four.

“it was a good thing but it wasn’t a bad thing. it was just how things were supposed to go and... they went. hell, and so did bliss!” baebi jokes with another awkward laugh, throwing her hands up and shrugging. “but, we’re trucking along and doing great. hopefully she is too. we haven't spoken since she decided to stay with angelico. so—” baebi shrugs again, looking a bit sadder in her gaze even if her smile never falters.

“all of you deserve a vacation, truly…” cléo narrows her eyes at the camera, seemingly in jest—then turns back to her friend with a smile. “the next vacation i have, you’re coming with me. let someone try me. i dare them.”

shaking her head is disbelief, she moves along to her next question. “here’s something a bit more fun to talk about—what are you thoughts on any of the nominees?”

baebi blinks at the question, thinking for a moment before leaning in to cléo like she's going to tell her a secret, the camera zooming in as well. “i don’t know a lot of people here. i gotta be honest...” the two of them laugh, baebi covering her mouth before regaining her professional demeanor, shrugging her shoulders cutely.

“um! i don't know! you deserve everything you get tonight,” cléo winks at the camera, “and, umm, i think deepdive is pretty deserving. sourcandy kills it every time... um...”

baebi looks up as she tries to remember the other nominees, is stupid cupid nominated? truly, guys, i only know what my girls are nominated for. i’m sorry,” she says truthfully, giving an unapologetic look to the camera with another laugh.

“what about the weirdest thing a fan has done to get your attention? i’m sure you definitely have to have a story for this one.”

“one time, a man got my face tattooed on his chest and he—” cléo’s eyes widen before she snorts, her hand moving to cover her mouth. “okay, honestly, he was pretty ripped so this wasn't that bad for me–he was at a venus fansign and he stands up, takes his shirt off, and shows me my face tattooed in the center of his chest and i was like woah!” baebi puts her hands up with a suprised look on her face as cléo laughs, giggling as she retells the story. she lets out a dramatic sigh, looking at cléo with a raise of her brows.

“men.” baebi shrugs again, chuckling dryly, clearly fighting off the urge to laugh again. cléo raises an imaginary glass to that.

“what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever googled? even in secret!” cléo raises her brows, interested in her answer. baebi looks to the side as she thinks the question over, shaking her head slowly.

“i don’t google weird things...” she starts, staring at her friend’s face for a moment before laughing at herself. she hits cléo's arms playfully. “i've actually googled bang chan happy trail before, i won't even lie to you.” baebi covers her mouth as cléo short circuits, laughing at herself as the tips of her ears turn pink from embarrassment.

“girl—?!”

“he's so dreamy! i’m sorry!”

cléo pretends to gag, shuddering for dramatic effect as she immediately changes the subject. “maybe i shouldn’t have asked that. moving on! what’s your dream role?”

“i want to be angelina ballerina one day,” baebi says with a fond smile and nod, the atmosphere soon softening. “she's a mouse that does ballet... i deeply resonate with her and have since i was little.”

“that’s so cute…” cléo pouts at the camera, placing a hand over her chest to show how touched she was. “hopefully they don’t consider your search history if a film or series comes about about.”

cléo laughs as baebi halfheartedly swats at her arm. “cléo—”

“one last question!” the taller grins in good nature. “kind of horrible timing considering two questions ago i got an answer i didn’t expect—hi chris, if you’re watching!—but to be honest, i’m nosy and i don’t care if fans lose their heads over this. anyone special you want to let the public know about?”

baebi laughs nervously at the question, raising her brows at cléo as if to silently ask her, ‘why would you do this to me?’ before tucking her long hair behind her ear. cléo offers what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.

“everyone would hate the answer, so let's say no!” baebi answers cheekily, giving the camera a finger heart to distract the viewers from the question she just dodged.

cléo boos the non-answer and sighs, shaking her head. “well, i tried. thanks for hanging out~!” she waves as her friend says her goodbyes and walks off, blinking a few times before she makes a face upon remembering her shocking answer.

“of all things to google…”

you can find baebi @venusvity ! thanks so much for joining the event !

[sufferu]

A major problem I see with your dogshow and your back to zero stories is the fact that there appears to be no end to the tunnel of despair.

specifically I am talking about Subaru’s mental stability and your fascination for removing a central pillar of his mental system.

I see no other outcome for him not to suffer a complete mental collapse like he did in episode fifteen.

for your dogshow fic it is worse because both he and his “friends” saw everything that he went through and should know how much being loved through the position of being a knight is good for him.

even if they are focused on the actual issue of tossing him out to the front lines.

I personally believe that Subaru needs to be a hero/knight or something like a dog or sex toy for Emilia or else he is forced to confront the horrible reality of his friends being assholes who killed him on mere whims.

I don’t think that Subaru can ever recover from another catatonic state. The only reason why he did was because Petelguese had provoked wrath from Subaru and the spirit is no longer alive.

for back to zero it’s has a better chance of Subaru not going catatonic because it is set before the whale and witch cult, so there’s always the possibility of the whale and witch’s cult not acting like they did last time.

of course there is the problem that once they start losing one of the random soldiers would decide to kill Subaru to reset the encounter like he was the cosmic reset button.

thus why I called your story torture porn because despite your claims that it be happier for Subaru eventually, all I see is the angst without a happy ending.

I assume that you are going for a tragedy story where the characters are trying to solve problems but they can’t get past their mistakes.

however I personally believe that re zero is already a tragedy/lovecraftian-psychological horror story and that adding even more to that is needlessly cruel to everyone involved.

I don’t read a lot of tragedy but I assume that there is a through line of action that the characters can take to make everything better but don’t take it for some reason.

for your stories, I don’t see anything like this. All I see is “And things get even worse.”

seriously Subaru basically has no life lines left after Wilhelm removed Subaru from being a knight.

what is stopping him from just giving up on life after basically being disowned by everyone?

…You know what? That is a valuable outside perspective, so thank you.

But I will say: we seem to have VERY different ideas about what would be a “happy ending” in a story like this, because the ending that you just told me is one that I would less describe as “happy” and more as “full of soul-crushing despair.”

Subaru remaining a knight/hero for the rest of his natural life after everyone learns that doing so is basically sentencing him to indescribable torment for the rest of his days, purely because that is the only way he can conceive of being loved by other people — how is that HAPPY? And using it as a distraction in order to run from the realities exposed by Return By Death — how is that healthier than confronting said realities outright? If I WERE to write a tragedy, I’d likely end this story much in the way that you just described: where everything was too much to deal with and so everyone decided to remain in stasis forever while turning a blind eye to the suffering at the core of it all, Ones Who Stay In Omelas style. Tragedies aren’t really my style, though, so I AM writing towards a happy ending — though I’m not spoiling what it is, for No Refunds OR Back to Zero. (Though really, you could probably guess a good chunk of at least the former already.)

But like — without spoilers, yeah, something like this would probably break him. That doesn’t mean he has to STAY broken. Sometimes you have to re-break a bone so that it heals correctly. Sometimes you have to tear down something you worked hard on because there’s a critical fault in the foundations that could destroy everything if left unchecked. Sometimes bandaids need to be ripped off.

And also — yeah, everyone is PISSED at Subaru at the moment (post-ficlet). But who the hell said that they didn’t love him anymore?