#but i dont blame him too much he was just trying make a better life for himself which i want

[prettyboykatsuki]

HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO

⊹ general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)

⊹ content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.

all sexual content present in part two.

⊹ wc ; 17.3k / 36.1k

link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.

LINK TO PART TWO

⊹ a/n ; well. its here. i wont ramble too much but i hope you enjoy and if you dont...well don't tell me. thank you to ame for your endless patience. likes and reblogs mean the world. the title is inspired by the poem linked.

⊹ synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.

“Of course you must learn to love, to love always and love entirely and to be wounded by nothing so much as the violence of your own love.” - andrew kane, how to be a dog.

⊹ PART ONE : A CHILD BORN IN WINTER MUST NOT LONG FOR SPRING.

There’s a dog living outside of Gojo’s apartment. It’s a collarless, lonely thing. Clever, too. 

Though, Gojo doesn’t know much about its life before it started hanging around the area, he gets glances on occasion. It’s not emaciated and it doesn’t look hungry, but it’s roughened up with matted fur and a healed tear in one ear. 

More importantly, it doesn’t bother anybody in the neighborhood. Despite its outward appearance and hostility when approached, its aggression won’t go farther than a warning bark or growl. Most of the adults living in the building know better than to try, but some of the kids living upstairs desperately attempt to befriend it. Of course they fail, and Gojo thinks that that poor thing is growing apathetic to the touches of sticky hands. 

The whole building is pretty fond of it, surprisingly. Gojo lives in a upend complex in a metropolitan part of Tokyo and the people here can be snobbish. So it comes as a shock that this dog wasn’t shooed away months ago. 

Everyones sort of agreed to take care of it. There’s a food and water bowl outside of the security office - and just last week a sign was implemented of Do’s and Don’ts for what food scraps can be left. There’s a donation box to get some proper shots and paperwork - since it looks like the building's doorman has agreed to take it in if everyone chips in for the expenses.

(Gojo suspects this has something to do with those very kids, devastated by the thought of it being gone.)

Warm welcomes from the residents aside, Gojo hasn’t seen it act friendly before. He wonders about that.  It seems hesitant to trust anyone and he’s sure there's a good reason. It’s just that it's clever. To be a stray in this area of Tokyo and be so calm is an impressive feat, so he thinks it probably has some grasp of his own situation. If it acted cuter, it could get a warm house and family too. Though the whole aloof and distant thing does the job just fine, Gojo can’t help but wonder what such a clever creature is doing, turning away from living lavishly. 

Much like everyone else, Gojo’s contributions have come in the form of food scraps and some donation money to work towards the 5,000 yen goal. On the occasion their paths cross, Gojo sits near it. Sometimes, they share a moment of silence and Gojo talks just to see if it’ll ignore him. It seems like it’s listening. It always makes a grunt of dismissal when Gojo turns to leave and he’s started to count that as a little victory. 

Gojo isn’t intrigued by anything as much as that dog. At least not lately. It’s damn near impossible to seriously pique his interest and yet that clever fellow is one of the few things he stops to ponder at. 

Today, Gojo is intrigued by the dog that lives on the street of his apartment and the strange woman who’s petting it like some sort of domesticated baby.

He’s very, very intrigued by that. 

The rain comes down in heavy sheets. It’s a Wednesday, and he has no classes to teach so he’s home and preparing to run errands. He’s going about his day as usual, basically. When Gojo isn’t swamped with a mission or the reformation of Jujutsu Society - he likes to play the part of the average man. 

The plan for today was to take his unused car out of the lot so he could get some dry-cleaning done, go buy a new pair of sunglasses because his old ones are scratched, and go do some shopping. He needs to buy groceries again ( an uncommon occurrence) so that one's on the list too. 

He’s dressed down. A black windbreaker is hanging over his shoulders, tight gray shirt and some comfortable jeans. He’s got on his errand shoes, a nice pair of sneakers and his keys are hanging from a loop in his belt. His hair is styled down and he’s got on his glasses instead of his typical mask.

He has a gameplan, a fully fleshed out expectation of how today will go, and it’s derailed by a woman he’s never seen before. He’s drawn to you so naturally it’s baffling. 

You’re crouched just in front of the security office. Dressed in a loose skirt and long sleeves, looking down by the local neighborhood stray. For the first few seconds, he just lingers on in utter awe. You’re carrying a comically cute umbrella, clear with flowers and a pink edge. He kind of thinks you look like a peony. 

He approaches slowly, quietly. 

When he finally gets close enough to really see, he can hardly believe his eyes. That old, menacing mutt is happily getting his chin scratched by you. 

“Oh, uhm. Hello?” 

The sound of your voice startles him out of his trance. Snapping back to reality, he glances down to where you are and realizes he’s towering over you. In an effort to be polite, he steps back and gives you his most disarming smile. 

“Hi. Sorry for the intrusion, I was just,” He glances at the dog who almost looks offended at the interruption “I noticed you were… petting this dog. Guess I was a little surprised.” 

“Surprised?” 

And your surprise surprises him even more. He blinks slowly. 

“Yeah. He’s not aggressive or anything but uh,” Gojo chuckles, concluding you must be a little new “Well, he’s not exactly friendly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone succeed in well…petting him.” 

You’re taken aback by this information. Yeah, definitely new. 

“Really?” You glance at Gojo before looking back down at it “I just gave him some treats and waited a bit. He’s such a sweetie. Sure you mean this dog?” 

Gojo gets a good laugh out of that. Partially at your cluelessness and partially at your disbelief. He nods, smiling a little. 

“I’m very sure, actually. He must really like you,” He says, hands in his pockets. He bends down to join you, but he’s still a little bigger than you at that height “I guess I can see why. You’re pretty friendly.” 

You peek over at him. You seem a little shy at the compliment. Gojo feels his interest pique a second time today alone. New record. 

“Oh, uh. Thank you. I teach kindergarteners so I sort of have to be.” 

He hums. Reaching his hand towards the dog, who sniffs and cuddles his palm (something it’s never done before) in order to win your favor more. It really is a clever little thing, just like he’d always suspected.

“I’m a teacher too. A highschool teacher, though. No need for me to be friendly, I guess.” 

You laugh at his joke, smile reaching your eyes as you hug your knees to look at him.

“You seem plenty friendly to me.” 

He pretends to think about it. 

“Maybe you have a gift for making people come out of their shell,” He says with sincerity, relishing in the fact he’s finally getting to pet the dog in any capacity “I think this little guy could probably attest to that.”

“And you have a knack for flattery.” You quip. 

The natural chemistry is noticeable enough for it to catch Gojo off-guard. He grins. 

“Hey. I’m not all bad. And what's flattery if I’m being honest right?” 

“Sounds like something a flirt would say,” You tease, airy. He laughs a little. 

“You seem like you’re having fun giving me a hard-time.” He pouts. You giggle. 

“A little,” 

“Jeez. How rude of you…” He waits, prompting your name. You smile. 

You give him your name. You say it soft and easy. He makes sure to return to the favor. 

“And yours?” 

“Gojo Satoru.” 

__

You live up to your first impression in the time that Gojo gets to know you as his neighbor. 

Friendly. The word he’s looking for is friendly. 

There’s other words though. Sometimes meek, typically cheery, oftentimes quiet. You’re quite unassuming, and possibly too gentle when compared to everyone else in the general area. You fit in fine, no worries there. And Gojo knows that for certain because he can’t stop himself from watching over you like a hawk. 

He doesn’t really understand it himself. Gojo gets along with everyone. He’s always been a people person who likes to talk and likes to get to know strangers. There’s nothing that special about your connection in that way. You live next to him, directly across the hall.  You often knock on his door to give him something that you’ve made too much of or ask to borrow some sugar 

And it’s not done with any romantic intent. Gojo is good at reading people. He’s never seen someone so blatantly  romantically uninterested in him. You’re not even conscious of him as a man, cemented to him  by the one time you came to the door dressed in paper-thin PJ’s. He hasn’t recovered from the shock. One of the many times in his life where he was grateful no one could see where he was looking. 

He’s had a few months since your first meeting to get an idea of your personality and what things about you he should keep in mind. You noticed that he’s often not in his house, so you’re relatively aware of your surroundings. You’re often up late because your lights are always on well into the evening. 

(He finds out later you’re usually making lesson plans or little gift bags or planning birthdays. You really love your job, something he can commend while simultaneously  feeling quite jealous about.) 

You favor the lovely spring colors like pink and purple because you have so much of it always on you. You dress brightly in general. And you smile, often, and stumble over yourself trying to be nice to the other tenants. The kids in the building adore you. The sheer amount of propositions you’ve received to be someone's full-time nanny could probably keep you employed for another two decades. 

And you always put your best into everything, no matter what. 

This is probably the aspect Gojo is most fascinated by. It’s not exactly a novel trait. He’s encountered something like it before. One of his most prized students is Maki Zenin. Her whole thing is kicking ass through sheer spite. 

But unlike his students or anyone else he knows - you don’t seem to be motivated by spite or anger or frustration. Even when you are angry or upset - you always force yourself into being more understanding. Into being nice, kind, and still giving it your best if you’ve been shorted somehow. He’s tempted to call you a try-hard. It draws on the line of people pleasing sometimes but it doesn’t matter either way. This is a quality in you Gojo likes all the same. 

He's always been drawn to people who are earnest. His company favors such things. He cherishes Yuuji for such a reason, and can say something similar for Nanami. It’s a refreshing perspective. He’s not a bitter person, but he’s not an earnest one either. So Gojo likes that you’re so properly, gently sincere. 

For the last few months he’s made a real effort to talk to you. So he’s not just the guy next door, but at least an acquaintance and at best a distant friend. On the mornings you both have classes to teach, he walks you to your car and if he wakes up before you - he’ll bring you a cup of coffee or a pastry he knows you enjoy.  

You’ll often do Gojo little favors and he’ll return them - joking to each other about being a good neighbor. An inside joke with each other that Gojo is growing increasingly fond of, all together with leftover cups of coffee and glances that linger too long. Some mornings, he takes out your trash when you’re feeling too tired and you’ll do him the favor of getting the stuff out of his clothes that he doesn’t want to dry-clean. 

It’s these little exchanges that make up the bulk of your interactions. 

He’s even been to your apartment (another reason he’s sure you’re not attracted to him). He went last week to help you cut out little autumn leaves to put on your classroom walls, and you rewarded him with some lemonade. 

He’s still thinking about it days later, how you sit on your legs and the way your cardigan hangs off your shoulder. When you’re focused, you leave your mouth open a bit and poke your tongue through your lips. He’s endeared by it. 

 By you in general.

It’s all boring and mundane, but that’s what makes it. It’s a luxury he rarely affords. Craves, really, which is why he’s starting to go straight home more often than not.

It’s nice that you’re always there. That you’re usually home and when you’re not - Gojo doesn’t have to guess too hard about where you are. It’s so constant. He basks in the feeling of constancy like an expensive silk. 

It’s little luxuries like that, he thinks, that make you so special to Gojo without much effort on your behalf. Being up at the top means he is always fascinated by the place closest to the ground. 

What’s heaven to a man born there?

__ 

In your fourth official month of residence, the neighborhood dog finally gets adopted. 

He’s not there for the big reveal. He hears it from you while he’s on a mission, through a text message and a photo. He acquired your number early on, but you’ve only started doing these text exchanges recently. Reason being Gojo’s had an unusual amount of cases that need his attention and you’ve been very aware of his absence.  

(The first time you texted Gojo after 3 days on the other side of the country, he was scarily happy. After all, most times when he leaves - people are expecting his return.  There’s an assurance that he will return alive, that he has to. It’s not often people worry.

It was another thing he learns about himself through you. Being fussed about is refreshing.) 

Currently, he’s all the way down in Nagasaki. He’s been investigating what the local government has described as an “infestation in the water,” leading to poison and all sorts of hallucination. It’s been causing all of the local hospitals to fill up and the news is advising people to distill their water if possible when at home. Make sure to buy bottled, and double check on your children. 

In other words, there’s an unidentified curse wreaking havoc in small towns and rural areas at an unusually fast rate and Gojo has been sent to figure out its origin. What’s really weird is the location. He’s in Nagasaki prefecture, specifically in Hasami - a town in the Higashisonogo district. He really didn’t have much time to do research on the area, save for a few quick google searches and probing questions to his student, the well traveled Yuta Okkutsu who is a hair more familiar with the region than he is. 

But there wasn’t much for him to find. Hasami is known for the porcelain it produces. The population is a little under 15,000 and the weather is nicer in spring than it is in summer where it gets too humid. It’s considered a small town, though that number is relative in consideration, and currently the local officials are sending off reports about the water supply. 

Even when doing deep research using official means, there was nothing that unusual about the place. No major criminal incidents or occult presence or some other thing that would make this occur naturally. Gojo is no stranger to small town violence or bullying and they can often produce the most volatile curses.

But he’s currently on his 3rd day here, where he’s taken up talking with the locals and he can’t find any specific attitude that would foster a special grade. 

It had led him to a conclusion,  but one he was deliberately avoiding. That someone planted the curse here in Nagasaki, or maybe somewhere else. Which really complicates the whole affair, because then this is an investigation and not just a situation of fate. It also means that this curse was likely harvested somewhere and that Gojo can’t be sure it’ll be easy to get rid of. 

Most importantly, all that fanfare means he’ll be home late. 

Given how much he’s longing to see you, it’s the thing he’s been dreading most. 

It’s weird. He’s never dying to see anyone, with the exception of an old friend long gone. But Gojo has been desperate to see you for the few weeks he’s been away from home. 

(He can’t tell if it’s normal to long this much for a person he truthfully doesn’t know that well.) 

But, while he’s away from home, the thoughts of you play on loop in his head. Like white noise, static yet constant -  there, all the same.  As he walks the rainy streets of Hasami, hands in his pockets - he can’t help but wonder when the next time he gets to see you will be

It’s like some sort of miracle (aren’t you always one?) when Gojo hears his phone ring, buzzing against his abdomen. 

He’s drawn back into reality when he feels it. In front of a store that sells handmade plates and glasses, he lets it go for a while. Feels it buzz against his pocket while he settles his thoughts. He examines his surroundings,  notices the cars, and the mother with her daughter across the street and the gray sky - all before he picks it up. Your name flashes him on screen, and something itches deep in his chest.

The clouds open up. And it’s still raining, but there’s a ray of sunlight cutting through them. For a minute Gojo feels worldly, grinning with damp skin before he slides his thumb across the phone. 

You’ve never called him before. 

“Hello?” He greets, wondering if it was an accident. Then you come through the other side of the line.

“Hi ~,” You say, clearly doing something in the midst of talking “How’ve you been?” 

“I’ve been alright. Very shocked you called me, yanno?”

You laugh quietly. 

“Sorry about that. I just wanted to check in. And I wanted to say thank you.” 

“I mean… I’ll accept but I feel like I should know what for.” He jokes. Your tone goes sincere, marshmallow soft and twice as sweet. 

“You paid the rest of the fees for the dog out of pocket, didn’t you?” 

He smiles to himself.

“Ah. Busted. That was supposed to be a secret between me and Mr. Security-Man,” 

“He didn’t tell me. I just…guessed. Seems like something you’d do.” 

His first instinct is to disagree.

“It’s not like I did it out of the goodness of my heart, okay? It was looking a little sad sleeping during the cold seasons. It was very pitiful. So bad, so sad.” 

“Why’d you do it?” You ask, probing but not too deeply “Like… really. It was really nice of you, but it was a couple thousand and that can’t be cheap.”

He relents, head leaning back on the wall behind him. 

“The kids, remember?” He murmurs, eyes staring up at the gray clouds “You said they’d be sad if the dog didn’t get adopted soon.” 

“The way you’re talking about it makes it seem like you’re doing this for me.” 

“And if I was? Would that bother you, hm?” 

You wait a minute, hesitating with your words. 

“Well…no. I guess not, I just—thank you. I guess I’m just a little… embarrassed about it or whatever.” 

“Shy, huh? Cute.”

“Jeez,” You huff. Gojo can practically hear your grinning from the other side; it makes his heart flutter. He wants to go home, to wherever you are “And you always say you’re no flirt.” 

“I’m not a flirt. I’m just telling it how it is.” 

“Yeah? Well, thanks anyway then. It made them really happy. You should’ve been there to see it. Maybe you can tell them when you get back?” 

“Don’t wanna.” He states outright. 

“You didn’t even think about it!” You exclaim.

“Mm, because I don’t have to. I definitely don’t want them to know.” 

“Why not, though? You’d be their hero, y’know? 

Maybe it’s something in the air. The damp weather out closer to the ocean, or the distance between you. There’s a tiny echo in your words, mechanical through the speakers. The word hero leaves a melancholy in his mouth, floating in the back of his throat like liquor refusing to go down. He chuckles. 

“Ooo, are you into that kinda thing? Like, super charming knights in shining armor? Or superheroes, maybe?” 

You giggle on the other side of the line. If you notice him avoiding answering you, you have the courtesy not to say anything.

“Isn’t everyone? I don’t know. I think if a really good-looking guy saved my life, it’d probably make my heart race a little, yeah. I’d catch feelings over that for sure.” 

He takes a deep breath. Everything smells like rain. 

“Is that so?” He says, chest blooming with warmth “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

__

Gojo returns from his mission empty-handed. 

He was out there for a long time, at least longer than usual when he’s traveling for a mission. He’s not used to hitting so many dead ends. The problem kept growing, but every trail he’d uncovered went cold in about a day. Just before he gave up hope, he was called in by Yagi. Since the issue has spread into other parts of the city, it’s no longer his solo jurisdiction. 

More hands on meant more time for Gojo to be teaching. It also meant that he would finally see you after so long. You waited for him outside the day he returned to Tokyo - wearing a cream colored sweater and the prettiest smile Gojo had ever laid eyes on. 

Gojo returns from his mission empty-handed but it’s not entirely pointless. Upon returning - he had a somewhat shallow epiphany about the way you make him feel. About the way he’s affected by you, which is arguably more valuable than some lead.

Being away from you for so long is something that makes him so irritable. He’s had some time between then and now to come into terms with it. 

Falling back into his routine, it was obvious. Suddenly there was a gap he’d never noticed before that blew wide enough for him to fall through. He actively avoids not seeing you if he can, and ever since your permissive conversation a few weeks ago - it’s harder to notice the way his desires fester. 

There’s not much he wants out of his life. So when anything noteworthy pops up, Gojo is always eager to get a hold of it before it’s too late. 

He usually soothes that by reminding himself of your position as a civilian, a kindergarten teacher at that. The responsible thing to do is make sure you’re safe. To play the hero from the sidelines and ensure you don’t encounter anything from his line of work. That’s his whole life's work. To create a life like that, and it helps to stay on that path when he believes you’re sheltered from that reality. 

That’s why, when you tell Gojo you can see curses, he feels the entire floor collapse from underneath his feet. 

He receives such devastating news over a cup of coffee at that.

It’s closing in to Fall slowly and Gojo has decided to take you out to eat as an apology for his disappearance. He intended to give you another half-truth about his job so you wouldn’t lose any sleep over him. 

When it happens, it’s less that you tell him, and more that you keep glancing. Just over his shoulder, with this terrified expression that Gojo couldn’t not notice, even if he tried. 

You’ve got your hands around a warm drink, in a white, ceramic mug but your gaze keeps diverting to the place behind him. When he looks over to that same place, a curse is there. Small. More insignificant than a bug, but there. 

It’s risky to mention it. Because if Gojo is wrong, it’s not something he can brush off. He’d have to come up with something to excuse himself, and he isn’t sure how to lie out of that (even with his natural disposition of being a trickster.) But when you keep looking, his instinct kicks in. There’s no way you aren’t seeing it. 

He doesn’t ask you directly. That’d be too incriminating, so he lowers his tone. Watches you briefly as you tremble in fear. 

(A small, small  part of him is only asking because he doesn’t like how distracted you are from him. Killing the curse seems like it’d relieve that annoyance too.)

“Can you see it…?” 

The question makes you jump out of your skin. You reel back, eyes widened before the realization really sets in. 

“....It?” 

Gojo looks around the cafe for a minute, to make sure no one is listening before he turns around and points to the cursed spirit behind him. 

“It,” He says, thumb pointed at the deformed curse moaning in one of the booths. 

When it dawns on you that Gojo sees what you see, you cup a hand over your mouth in shock. He can’t describe the way getting that confirmation feels. It raises so many questions about who you are. More than he had before, at least. 

No longer are you the innocent, clueless civilian and that changes every interaction he’s had with you since the start. Though it’s not uncommon for people who can see curses to fall through the cracks, he can feel his own curiosity dig into his skin like seeds taking root. He doesn’t think he should be excited, but he is. 

He’s excited watching your fearful tremble. He’s never seen you like that.

“Yes,” You say, voice a little shaky this time “I can see… it.” 

He takes the spoon out of his latte and cleans it with his mouth. Studying your expression momentarily, he takes a deep breath before standing to his feet. The terror is so subtle, the kind he can only catch because he’s so familiar.. He knows those emotions better than he knows most. 

Curses aren’t phobias. Not illusions or ghosts, but tangible madness. Impactful to those who can see it, but nothing to those who can’t. Fear like that, which can’t be shared with anyone, has a specific look when it shows up in someone. Gojo hasn’t felt that fear since he was very, very little. He watches curses with the same bland expression he might watch a horror movie, but he can understand your reaction at least.  He knows it like the back of his hand. All the people he’s saved, who could see them too, always wore the same one. 

Still, he’s caught off guard. He feels bad that you’re scared. But the proximity between you and him which was once oceans wide has decreased significantly in no time at all. That feels good. Even better than he would’ve imagined. 

“Are you scared?” He questions intently, maintaining a sense of neutrality.

You swallow a lump in your throat, eyes glued to the table in front of you.

“Yes,” 

Your voice is a hoarse whisper. The corners of his lips twitch upward. 

When he’s sure no one is looking, he stands up and walks over to the table behind him. Pretending to look for something so he doesn’t look out of place. It doesn’t take more than a second to destroy it. It’s tiny, something he’d never think of fighting since it’s so harmless. The curse equivalent to a fly. 

He gives it a violent death and sees you look on with horror in your expression. He finds himself pleased with that, wiping his hands on his pants before returning. Maybe you recognize his strength when he sits back down. Still, instead of pulling away again, you fold your hands in your lap. 

“T-Thank you,”

He grins at you. 

“Of course,” He says  “Can I ask you something?” 

You nod your head and sip your tea. 

“Do you know who I am?” 

You look confused.

“...Are you a celebrity?” 

He laughs hard at that. Hearing that makes him not want to tell you. 

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” He reintroduces. You nod slowly “I’m a sorcerer.” 

Another lie of omission. The strongest, he should say. He takes a sip of his latte, frowning at the bitterness. Through his mask, he watches as you fiddle with your hands. He stacks the empty creamer cups together before opening two more sugar packets and stirring them. 

“A sorcerer…” You look perplexed. Confusion settles into the lines of your face. Sheltered, Gojo concludes. Only parents, who shelter you wouldn’t tell you what a sorcerer was despite your ability to see them “What does that… mean exactly?” 

“It means I kill curses for a living” He replies simply. 

“I thought you were a high school teacher.” 

He smiles. 

“Smart cookie. I am, but the school I teach at specializes in cursed technique and sorcery.”

“Oh.” 

You look befuddled. 

Gojo thinks he might be an opportunist. 

“Do you really not know anything about them? It’s rare for people to be able to see them and not know anything about them.”

You shake your head, eyes peering into your drink. He watches how the image reflects in your eyes.

“Uhm. Not really. My parents told me to do my best to stay away from it. We lived in the countryside but I had to move out into the city for work so I kept… running into them. I can’t like… kill them. And I don't always see them.” 

“You can’t use cursed techniques?” 

“I guess that’s what that is. I don’t think I can, no.” 

Vulnerable. 

“Hmm. What circumstances,” He says, purposeful in weaving concern in his words. 

“Is it that bad…?” 

Not really. His job and the job of his peers is to make sure civilians make as little contact with curses as possible. There are more people like you, and because curses feed off of negative emotions - many dangers can be shafted by just not reacting. Even so, it’s customary for people to have some semblance of protection. A weapon if nothing else, for anyone who can see them.

“Do you carry anything with you?” 

“Like a weapon? I have mace for when I take the train late at night.” 

“Not that kind of weapon,” He says gracefully. He can tell you’re out of your element, and some small and twisted part of him would like to keep you in the fateful dark.

“What other kind would there be?” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” He half answers. Your frown deepens. He puts his palm over the top of his coffee cup but doesn’t feel any warmth “Aw, don’t be like that. I’m just teasing. You’re always so calm and collected, I was surprised to see how scared you got, you know?” 

“Everybody gets scared sometimes.” 

“Mm,”

His non-committal response leaves you nervous again. Fidgeting with the edge of your cup or the loose threads in the sleeves of your clothes. What a bundle of nerves you are. Gojo puts all the comfort he can in his voice, dredging up some sense of sincerity.

“Well, since it scares you and I’m such a nice guy, I’ll protect you if you get into any trouble.” He says, snapping his fingers and pointing at you.

That makes you relax. Makes your shoulders droop, a smile gracing your pretty face. Gojo can feel the floor underneath him sinking as you tease him. His eyes trace the curve of your neck. He’s glad you can’t see him or where they look. 

“Oh, what? Are you gonna come running every time I need help?” 

He smiles. 

“I’ll be your personal Superman.” He promises, making a silly expression trying to make you laugh. It feels good when he succeeds, the weight of his words softened by it. If you feel how heavy the comment is, it doesn’t show up on your face. 

You snort, taking a sip of your drink and there’s something so kind in your expression that Gojo aches over. 

“That right?” You hum, smiling over the edge of your ceramic mug “You’re my hero.”

__ 

Since then, Gojo’s kept quite busy.

The last time he saw you at all was at the diner a few weeks prior and little has been different since then. You send more nervous messages than before, but aside from that things are the same.

He’s done a good job, he thinks. Partly of ensuring you, partly of instilling healthy fear. Your eyes always widen like you’re caught off guard by his comments - sometimes washed away with a laugh but other times genuine. Gojo likes to keep you on your toes. A  bit of harmless fun and endlessly amusing. 

Gojo would be there to protect you just like he promised before, so even scaring you isn’t something he thinks of as bad. It’s not untrue that you should be a little more vigilant, but just telling you to do so is no easy feat. 

He would like to be spending time with you today just the same as he has before, but he’s home alone instead. There’s been a brief reprieve between cases so he’s on his own to unwind. There’s nothing he wants to do, so he decides on a movie. 

Gojo is the only one of his friends who still has cable TV. According to Shoko it’s a luxury purchase but for him it’s one less choice he has to make when coming home to relax.

It’s an American film on now, some psycho-killer classic that he’s already seen a handful of times with Japanese subtitles. 

None of the lights are turned on, so the TV illuminates the room in flashes of color. He grabs a soda from his steel-gray fridge and cracks it open, listening to the soft fizz that comes to a slow halt. Pulling it to his mouth, he travels slowly back to his couch. The leather squeaks under the weight of his body. The weight of his back creates a divet that he can be comfortable in. He rests his head, glancing back again at the screen. 

A scream rips through the house, agitating his every nerve. He picks up his remote and turns it down just a tad before watching the movie with a sort of disinterest. Horror movies aren’t his favorite, admittedly. He pretends he scares easily, but the opposite is true. Gojo has seen too much for it to be entertaining, no less scary. 

He likes movies based on their creative merit. He’ll watch one on its creative merit. 

But to be scared? For frights? Not really. Very little gets his heart pumping hard like that. Sometimes the storytelling is good. Other times there’s something cathartic about the formulaic death. The final girl, the call from inside the house. The dependable and clean ending of tropes. Even if it’s messy or sinister, it’s fantastical. Fictitious and detached. 

Gojo enjoys that. For anyone else, it’s probably a twisted way to think about it but to Gojo it only feels natural. He doesn’t examine that detachment very deeply. He’s just aware of it, lingering in the back of his head. 

He takes a long sip of his drink. The sickly sweet taste slowly coats his mouth. Fizzy and smooth, it goes down easily. He sits up in his seat, making himself comfortable as he tries to pay attention to the movie. The main girl is hiding in the bathroom, and the killers' steps are echoing through the house. The broken, somber string instruments in the background, fill the white noise with apprehension and terror. 

Gojo doesn’t feel a chill down his spine. His eyes are still fixed on the screen though, with slight anticipation of what's next even though he already knows. It’s nearing the end and he’s seen this movie before. She’s not going to make it, and Gojo knows that. 

He watches intently in spite of that. The door bursts open and there’s a knife in her chest - and screams. It’s horrific and ugly, blood-spattered and graphic. 

He doesn’t flinch until the whole way through.

It’s brief, but the thought passes his mind. Lately, the only thing that Gojo seems to react to is you.

But he doesn’t think about it too deeply. There’s no need to. 

The TV goes to commercial and Gojo realizes he’s finished his soda. He stands back up, onto his feet to toss the can and grab another. This time, he grabs some snacks too. Piles them onto a plate, dried meats, and something mildly sweet for after before he returns to his living room. Sitting back down on his couch, he scrolls through his phone for anything interesting but comes up short of any results. 

He sits up a little straighter as the next movie plays. 

__

Spending time around curses is a necessary part of the learning experience.

Things you can’t learn in all the lessons and tutoring in the entire world. Even though Jujutsu Tech exists, and even given Gojo’s lineage - when he started working officially, he didn’t know everything. You can’t. No matter to what extent you study, there’s some things that you can only gauge through experience. Going through something over and over, like muscle memory.

Gojo spent a lot of his life wanting it to make sense. Wanting curses and the way they showed up to make sense. This is a lesson in truth, divine truth you can only take up in experience. Curses are human emotions, which means that they are finicky and everywhere. And the dangers of them will always look like the aftermath of destruction. 

Sometimes, there’s nothing you can do to prepare for why things happen. It’s why Gojo is always grasping for light where he can find it. 

Gojo Satoru stands in an empty parking lot all the way in Osaka. He examines the sight in front of him and can’t find anything he’s learned to prepare for what's next. 

Fog has rolled in thick clouds over every inch, limiting his vision. The air tastes of smoke, and the earth underneath him is damp. The wet concrete squeaks under the weight of his shoes as he takes in the surroundings. The parking lot of an animal hospital, in particular - where all the staff were reported to have fallen unconscious. After being rolled out by the proper authorities and after all the animals were moved into a different location - Gojo was left to examine the remnants of the incident. 

The reports are similar all across the country. Not the location. but the symptoms. People falling sick and ill. The initial reports of a water-borne illness didn’t progress far past the first city. It’s evolved since then. People get sick, pass out and hallucinate and animals lose all control. 

The aftermath isn’t very messy so luckily it doesn’t attract too much attention. There’s no bodies, or blood - nothing  heinous thereafter. The effects appear later in the people affected, taken over by an unnamed madness that appears to turn their internal experience to ruins. Gojo would’ve preferred the first situation. Violence like that becomes easy to digest with enough exposure. 

These kinds of symptoms are always hard to stomach. Civilians get answers that placate them. The truth is that there's something bigger out there at play and they were just so unlucky to bear witness to the terror. With altered memories and the badge of trauma, what they don’t know can’t hurt them. 

Gojo knows though, and sometimes he envies their ignorance.

He makes his way into the building. A set of glass doors greets him when he turns the sidewalk, with a blinking sign. Osaka Animal Hospital is written at the top in neon, accompanied by the words 24hr service. Gojo only glances at it briefly before sighing, hands on the bar to push himself through the heavy glass doors. He has to lean some of his weight to get through, and there’s just another set beyond those where he has to do the same. 

Then, he’s inside. 

The presence of the curse and of cursed energy ignites familiar caution within him. It’s here, in some capacity - or it was recently. The perpetrator is here too. Why that is, Gojo can’t quite understand. It seems a little backwards to linger here after everyones been evacuated and there’s no doubt someone would come to investigate. 

All Gojo can think is that maybe they weren’t expecting him. But by now, they must know he’s there too. Gojo’s presence is intentionally oppressive - by nature it must be. Now it’s a waiting game, a quiet one at that. 

Hospitals are always echoey and this one is no different. The squeak of his boots bounces off the walls as he takes steps towards the receptionist desk just to see if he’ll find anything. 

He leans over it, to stare at the left over records - untouched by the authorities. Everything looks like it was left in a hurry. Strew pens and a corded phone just barely back in place - with computers on a blue idle screen. All the daily documents are still out sitting on the desk with no organization to indicate they’ve been filtered through. No paper clips or post-its telling the next person working about what to do. 

Instead of walking behind the counter, he climbs over it with relative ease. Once he’s behind it, he takes better note of his surroundings. He doesn’t find anything completely relevant. There’s painting of animals, and some certifications for bills of health as well - but nothing that warrants his attention. He redirects through the papers in front of him, coming across a stack unexamined. Those answer sheets they give you to fill out so they can assess the situation before meeting you. 

They’re split into two piles it looks like, though that could just be some coincidence. Still, he flips through them. Directing his attention to the little comment box with the prompt what are you being seen for? 

It’s nothing serious. Normal things an animal owner would be upset or worried about like bowel movements and eating something that shouldn’t have been consumed. A minor injury or a worrisome behavior - but nothing that sticks out. For pages and pages, Gojo flips through the little packets trying to find anything. 

It’s not what he sees, but what he doesn’t. A blank packet of papers, with no name for the owner or the pet. Only a description in the prompt box, neat handwriting in a single line. 

“Showing signs of anxiety.” 

Gojo smiles to himself. Interesting. 

He jumps back over onto the other side once he’s seen it. It’s strange. Why would they go to the lengths of premeditating it like that? Whether it’s the curse itself or some third party, it’s an unreasonable thing to do. 

“Not like people like this are usually reasonable, but,” 

He saves the rest of the thought, sighing. The room has two hallways to go down. Both directions have some lingering cursed energy,  but the hallway leading to the overnight area is much stronger. It’s separated by a big metal door, so Gojo braces himself to go through it.

He walks towards it slowly and through the doors even slower. It’s a long, empty hall. The ceilings are low, white fluorescent lights over his head like a falsified halo. They flicker on and off, with the ones at the very end of the hall having fizzled out completely. Gojo can hear, feel, and see everything. He can hear his own breathing and the artificial crackling  of electricity. Feel the lingering presence of sickness, the sediments of a curse preparing itself to emerge like a butterfly from a cocoon. 

He peeks into the different rooms of the hallway. One half of the hall is kennels, once again empty and left in the same messy state as the front desk. The other half of the rooms look like surgery rooms, with a storage closet tucked into one corner. The hall comes to an abrupt stop at the end, a painted gray wall with nothing to offer at the end.

But when Gojo is half-way through, he hears it. A heart-beat. A human one, slow and steady like it’s not worried at all. Not moving or running, just there. Thump, thump, thump. 

Gojo perks his head up as he walks, leaning over to get a look at every room. Empty, empty, empty. 

Then, in the very last one is a shadowy figure. The sound of the heartbeat is louder and the feeling of cursed energy is so strong it’s nauseating. Gojo pauses when he peers in, waits for there to be any response to his presence. There’s no way whoevers lurking doesn’t know he’s there, but there’s nothing that makes him react. He frowns. 

His hand reaches for the handle of the door with a sigh, the mechanism inside clicking to let Gojo know it’s open. He takes a deep breath before opening it, stepping inside and shutting it behind him. 

Even with the room as dark as it, the person inside is clear to his vision. A young girl. Probably no older than 17 with… 

He furrows his brow. With a dog, from what it looks like. No ordinary dog, obviously. A curse in the form of a dog, with teeth too sharp for its mouth and fur that looks like a smear of charcoal and nothing like hair at all. It’s on a long leash, the chain wrapped around the young woman's palms. 

The dog seems to tense up at the sight of Gojo. The eyes are empty and white - almost transparent. It’s a snarling thing, muzzle over the mouth and clearly on edge. Gojo looks at its owner, the perpetrator in this instance. Who looks calm, black mask tucked over face and long dark hair with bangs cut sharp.

Gojo doesn’t know what to say here. He wasn’t expecting to make contact this easily with a curse and its master. It’s been months now, the authorities chasing after this special grade from city to city. She’s obviously strong, and so is that curse that’s strained against its collar like it’s ready to rip him in half if he moves. Not stronger than him, because no such thing ever happens - but strong enough for him to be cautious. 

He doesn’t step forward. He stops by the door and tilts his head. He’s sure she can’t see his eyes, but they make eye contact all the same. None of it makes any sense, but making sense of it isn’t Gojo’s job. 

Instead of introducing himself, he opens the conversation with a question. 

“Why’re you still here?” 

“I knew I was going to get caught soon.” 

An answer he couldn’t predict even if he tried. Gojo huffs. 

“There was some time between the authorities coming and this investigation. You could have left before then, no?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Something would’ve stopped me.” 

“What a weird kid. What led you to that?” 

There’s a minute where the dog (?) starts barking,  but the noise is nothing like a bark. It’s cosmic and strained, and sounds more like a distorted radio than an animal noise. It’s in the shape of an animal but it isn’t one, like it couldn’t complete itself to be one. Gojo winces at the sound, intensified in the closed walls of the room. It’s piercing, and a little annoying. 

When she soothes it, it calms down quickly. It’s obedient. 

“Uh. A vision. Closer to a premonition. Fate.”

“Fate said you were going to get caught today. Right.” 

“Aren’t you a shaman? Shouldn’t be that hard to believe.” 

“Point taken. How did you know I was a shaman and not some murderer?” 

She gives Gojo a pointed look. 

“Look at you. Plus, I can feel that you’re a shaman.” 

“Another premonition?” He asks, this time sincerely. She shakes her head. 

“No. Your aura.” 

Gojo stares ahead. 

“...Right, yeah. It doesn’t look like you’re planning on attacking me.” 

“I don’t think I’d win. I’ve never met anyone stronger than me.” 

“I’m the strongest there is, so I guess not. How did you wanna go about this, then? Famous last words?” 

“You go first. I’d rather talk to you than the other officials.” 

“Hm. Don’t know if I have any questions, kiddo. My job is catching you, not interrogation. I guess I am a little interested in why.” 

This makes her deflate a little. It’s hardly noticeable, but Gojo sees it anyway. The dog seems to react, snarling at her discomfort. He’s starting to understand the connection between them.

She thinks for a minute longer before sighing. 

“Well. I guess I should start about why, right? It’s an old story. I came from a small village. I used to walk miles to school everyday and I’d get bullied a lot since my granny was a shaman. It was just us growing up. A nice old house with not a lot of modern anything,”

Gojo crosses his arms, leaning back on the wall and nodding his head. He figures she’ll tell him top to bottom, so he doesn’t give any input. 

“My granny died a few years ago. I didn’t have any family so I moved on my own. Even back then, the only other thing I cared about were animals. I started working at a shelter and then I met Senbei.” 

The more she talks, the worse he feels. Gojo already knows how this story will end, but he doesn’t interrupt her as she pauses between her sentences. Being 17 and bearing the burdens of loss is something he regards as a nightmare. 

“Senbei was my best friend. Most loyal dog ever. And you know, I started my job with high hopes and kept him by my side. I wasn’t always angry. Working in that shelter and watching animals come in trembling every time I fed ‘em made me angry. How cruel and sick people could be.” 

Her explanations are jumbled and clumsy. She sounds angry but it’s not that simple, curling in on herself the more she talks. Noticeably, she doesn’t try to justify it. She says it easily, with acceptance that it happened.  He thinks that acceptance is harder to bear than delusion. Gojo can’t help but commend her silently. 

“I’m sorry you went through that.”  Gojo replies. 

He’s being sincere. 

“Should you be sympathizing with me?” 

“Doesn’t matter. I just do.”

Her expression softens. She looks sad, and it’s not like Gojo doesn’t understand.  She keeps going though, hands shaking in her lap. Gojo thinks she might’ve been waiting to tell someone. 

“I don’t know when I stopped seeing the good in people….I always thought about—about my granny and how no one—no one came to see her. She was always taking care of everyone and no-one—“

“I know, kid,” Gojo says with a sigh “I get it.” 

“Then you know,” She pauses, taking a deep breath. There’s frustrated tears pouring down her cheek this time. What a strange, sad thing she is:  “That you can’t go back. Even if you forget. It just—it changes you.” 

Yeah. Gojo knows something about that, too. 

“I was already pretty desperate when Senbei was alive. Just trying to hold on. When he was killed, I lost it. I just fucking— I lost it. I’m sure you understand. You get it right?”

Gojo looks at her confused. She shakes her head, looking down in her lap at the curse in her hands.

“I can tell you're like me.  That's why your aura is so tainted and… fucked up and  malicious. It should be crystalline blue kinda like spring water—but it’s muddy. Rigid.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“The fact you’re hanging on by a thread. You can feel it too, right?“ 

Gojo remains quiet at her observation. He doesn’t know how to react. 

“When you want something so bad, it just— does something to you. Either because it won’t happen or because it needs to take your life to exist. Happened to granny, to me. It’ll happen to you, too.”

“I doubt that,” Gojo says, your face flashing in his mind. He shakes his thoughts away. 

“You’re thinking about it too literally. You want something, so you chase it and lose yourself in the process. You’re dead. No longer you, all tangled and in ruins. It’s not too late, but if you keep going—that thread is gonna snap.” 

“A premonition?” He says, partially sarcastic. She shakes her head. 

“No, a prediction. You don’t have to consider it if you don’t want to. I just thought I’d tell you since you gave me some last minutes with this Senbei.” 

Gojo shakes his head. 

“I don’t have any reason to be forceful if you comply. Take your time. I don’t have anything better to do.” 

Gojo glances at her as she pets it, having resigned herself to silently gazing upon it. He can’t stop himself from thinking about everything she’s said, so he averts his gaze to the ceiling and pretends otherwise.

The silent stretches, a pregnant pause before she speaks one more time. She has a look on her face Gojo can’t read.

“You know, it’s funny. Everyone thinks dogs are loyal to their masters, but that’s because we made them that way. We can’t stand being alone or unloved so we made something that can do both without ever seeing any less of us.” 

“You’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”  Gojo says, unsure of how to reply. She isn’t expecting anything, but remaining silent fills him with a sense of dread. 

“Guess so. You should take some time to think about it too,”

She says to him, petting the curse that whines like it’s been hit in her small hands. Gojo takes a deep breath. 

“…Yeah. I’ll do that.” 

__

The case ends anti-climatically. 

Gojo finds it funny. The officials came and the young girl was promptly arrested. He never even got a chance to ask her name. He learned through some probing that she only made two asks before being taken. 

The first, to keep her curse dog with her, and to send her thanks to the sorcerer who had apprehended her in the first place.

On the news, much later in the week - a news report surfaces. “Danger in the Deep,” giving reasonable and logical explanations for the events that occurred in cities across Japan not even a few weeks ago. New studies show, experts say, here’s a word from your local—a barrage of fancy language to pad the publishing, add depth and realism. The public is none the wiser. 

Gojo has to admire the commitment to keeping the peace. The case ends, and the girl gets arrested and put on trial. He doesn’t know if he’ll be seeing her again any time soon, though he’s sure he has the power to intervene. 

He’s hesitating to do so. Why stick his neck out for her in a situation like this one? Over other situations, more dire ones at that. She’d make a good ally.

Their last conversation hasn’t left the back of Gojo’s mind. He’s conscious of it, albeit it hasn’t slowed him down. He’s not looking for another assessment of who or what ghosts are haunting him. He’d prefer to put it all behind him now

So life, in some capacity, has returned to its baseline. It’s normal. He has cases but they don’t take him more than three days. He’s able to do his usual chores without anything impeding them. He’s been teaching, no longer forced to make his students fend for themselves. 

He’s been seeing you again regularly, too. 

He’s getting ready now to do just that. Scheduled to get another coffee together (something of a tradition now) and pick up some conversations. You’ve been busy, though Gojo doesn’t know the details of what.

He wants to know. He’s even tried asking but as soon as he gets close to the subject, you slink into yourself like you’re trying to disappear. Besides, he doesn’t want to intimidate you into telling him. 

(Though, it would be so easy to do. You’ve got a record for being a scaredy cat, and as much as it endears him - he is entirely too hung up on the potential for exploitation to admire it kindly. It’d be easy to turn the notches up, pressure you. With how easy going you are, you’d let him do it. Gojo bets you’d cave. He thinks the face you’d make would be entertaining too. 

Above all, the offer is tempting.) 

In spite of your refusal to discuss the specifics, Gojo does want to cheer you up in whatever capacity he can. So, he’s taking you out for a while and hoping a comfortable environment and the presence of other people will soothe your nerves a little. 

He’s getting dressed for it now, rifling through his closet for decent casual attire. 

He’s got his hair styled down, a pair of new sunglasses on the table and his clothes folded on his bed before he tries them on. Most of his closet is uniforms, plain black and boring. For now, he’s settled on a black crew neck and blue jeans - ripped at the knees. 

He looks over his appearance in the mirror, posing in it. Arms flexed and stretched over his head before putting them out in front of his body. 

He takes his time to take part in the ritual. He slips his boxers up over his legs, waist band tight around his torso and clinging to the curves of his thighs. He pulls his jeans up, low at his hips with a belt buckled through the front. Then comes his sweater over his abdomen. 

He wants to look nice. Though, he could be deluding himself - lately you seem a little more aware of his appearance. It makes him happy that his good looks haven’t failed him in the instance they matter most. 

As he puts on his accessories (in this case a watch and a ring) his phone buzzes atop his dresser. He stops to pick it up, a message from you on the screen. He peers over so his face can be read, then smiles. 

(sent 11:15am) Ready ~ 

He laughs to himself. 

(sent 11:16am) Almost ready. Need to look my best for such a tremendous occasion. 

(sent 11:16am) For coffee? 

(sent 11;17) For coffee with my favorite kindergarten teacher ofc ♡

You send back a simple reply telling him to hurry and come out. Gojo chooses to interpret your embarrassment as a sign. It puts some pep in his step, and he hurries to finish dressing up. 

He steps out of his house, locking his door from the outside before shuffling down a single flight of stairs and out into the front entrance of his complex. He notices you waiting at the front gate from where he’s standing. 

The neighborhood dog (officially named Pokupan) is asleep by the security office. You’re the same as always. Today's outfit is a dress with long sleeves and colored tights. It suits you. A splash of warmth in an otherwise dreary world, Gojo stands in place as he watches you for an unidentified amount of time. Minutes feel like seconds as you pace back and forth. Your phone must be in your purse because he can’t find it anywhere on you. 

He’s delighted when you finally turn your head to look at him. You cup your hand and give him a kind wave which he laughs at and returns enthusiastically. His stride is long, walking towards the gate. 

You have to tilt your neck up to look at him (making his chest squeeze unhelpfully) but you smile when you do so. 

“Hey,” 

“Hello there Miss. Waiting for a special someone?” He jokes. You flush. 

“They’re an important friend,” 

He tries not to let his smile falter. Friend. 

“Then, is it a bother if I ask to take you out?” 

This time you falter. Gojo notices it out of the corner of his eye, the briefest brush of nerves that makes it seem like you’re warming up to him after all. It’s gone as quickly as it came but it’s there and Gojo etches it into the back of his eyelids for memory. He smiles at you as you look away, flush

“Not at all,” 

He grins, again, even brighter. Then he sticks his arm out for you to loop in. You hesitate again. This time Gojo can’t be sure why.

“I’m just being a gentleman, you know?” He pouts. His frown takes effect as you loop your arms together. He keeps it friendly. Too much pushing and you’ll skitter away right before his eyes. Still, even this much progress feels good. It feels whole and light and good. 

It’s a pleasant sort of day. 

Not that it’s warm, or even sunny. It’s cold, on the edge of Autumn that dances into Winter. Freezing but bright out, the kind of sky where everything is clear. During the day the sky has no clouds and no stars when it comes to night time. 

Nonetheless it’s nice. The cold is the kind that makes you want to cozy into someone for warmth, so Gojo doesn’t mind walking in. The walk itself isn’t very long either. The cafe is near your complex, just about 15 minutes worth of walking. There’s no snow or ice to trip on, and because it’s freezing - you shiver every time you stray too far from the heat of his body so the walking is done exceptionally close together

There are kids and parents walking together on the street alongside you, dogs and their owners, street vendors with hot tea. It’s that kind of day where the cold doesn’t keep anyone indoors, in fact everyone seems to relish in the fact they can run and run and run without overheating. It feels like everything is in sync with each other, comfortable and harmonious in spite of everything else.

After 15 minutes, you’ve arrived at the store front. Not long enough for Gojo, but that’s okay. There’s next time he has to look forward too. 

(He tells himself this every time. It’s never enough for him. He can never get enough of listening to you talk. He could probably mimic your cadence without having to try. It’s a sound he doesn’t get sick of―a miracle, another one, because Gojo hates so many sounds―yet there’s one he always looks out for. 

There has to be a next time. If he forgets to tell himself as much, he gets so restless he can hardly stand.

The cafe is nice. It’s one of those places that you see on Instagram often with plenty of sweets for Gojo’s taste and plenty of fancy teas for yours. The outside has beige-colored brick and a brown sign decorated with cutesy drawings. You spend a good amount of time crouched beside it, taking a picture or two to later post on your story. 

“You have to tag me, okay? It’s your payment for wasting our precious time together,” He jokes. 

You stand to your feet and brush off your pants, the material of your coat rustling as you do. 

“Yes, yes ― I promise. I’ll have to ask who drew them when we get in there.” 

Gojo smiles at your enthusiasm before opening the door for you.  Another one of those glass ones with a logo printed on the top half and the metal tinted brown. A little bell chimes above your head as you head in first, and Gojo heads in after you. He has to duck not to his his head on the top of it.

It’s not too crowded at this hour. A handful of people sit among the many tables and booths. Your head is turned to the menu and Gojo trails behind you like a shadow. One to compliment all your light. 

It smells delightful inside. Like warm cookies and vanilla and tea. Gojo feels his sweet tooth kick in the minute you two stand in line. The barista is a doe-eyed blonde college student. There’s another employee with long dark hair and thin, narrow eyes. It reminds Gojo a lot of that girl he met a few weeks ago but he tries to put that thought out of his mind.

He sticks his hands in his pockets and eyes the menu. The special item is a yuzu cream cake, the picture of it hanging on the wall like employee of the month. There’s a glass display of all the other items and the menu matches the rest of the decor.

“This was a good choice,” Gojo says, entranced by all the desserts around him. You laugh, turning your head slightly to look at him. 

“Are you complimenting yourself right now?” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“Your sweet tooth is so bad,” You say through giggles “Your poor dentist,” 

He gasps in offense.

“I will have you know I keep my pearly whites pristine. Not a single cavity for the record.” He says back, placing emphasis on the last words. You snort a laugh. 

“I’ve never had one either,” You repeat back, perhaps mindlessly before saying “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other yet.” 

Yet. Yet. Gojo’s subconscious will hold onto that word for too long. It makes his heart beat too loud. He’s relieved that you’re nothing like him. If you were in this very moment, you would hear the thunder raging inside of his ribs. 

Instead of saying anything, he scoffs playfully. 

“I bet you were such a goody two-shoes that you never ate sweets before bed-time.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise followed by embarrassment, where you tuck your chin into your sweater. 

“Ugh,” You say, so weakly Gojo can’t stop himself from laughing “What’s wrong with being a goody two shoes, huh?” 

Gojo feels almost feline in his self-satistication. “I didn’t say anything was wrong with it, just that you were one.” 

Your frown deepens. 

“I don’t care for your tone, mister.” 

“Are you gonna scold me like one of your students?” 

“If it gets you to be nice,” You say firmly, in that Teacher voice that Gojo has caught glimpses of over the last few months. He does a fake salute. 

“Yes, ma’am!,” He proclaims,  soft enough so only you hear it. You break out into another set of his giggles, melting his cold heart. It’s not the smile so much as it is yours.  The line moves up just a little bit. Gojo steps in front of you before you have a chance, his figure shadowing you. 

“What do you want?” 

“I think I’m gonna get one of those fruit teas and some cake.” You say absentmindedly. He smiles at you playfully. 

“Heard,” 

Gojo turns to order for you both, laughing through your obvious protests about his paying for you. He’s able to block you from getting in the way as the cashier looks on the both of you bemusedly. When the order is placed, Gojo taps his phone against the reader before moving aside where you stomp your feet and follow him. 

“I told you I would get it this time,” You whine. He hums. 

“Mm, there’s always next time?” 

“You say that every time!” 

“So you never know? Maybe it’s next time for sure.” 

You seem to realize that this is a fruitless conversation and that he’s not going to relent. With a flush on your face, you cross your arms and pout. 

“I’ll get you back one of these times, I swear….Anyway, thank you.” You add the last part quietly. He hums. 

“It’s only fair, you know. After all, who else would come here to eat sweets with me?” 

You look taken aback but Gojo doesn’t retract his statement. He’s sure there’s someone he could ask. But there’s no one who would agree to it as easily as you have. The environment wouldn’t be so welcoming, either. Someone who would do something like this with Gojo is long lost. It almost feels foreign to him now. 

In order to ease the tension, you look up at him warmly. 

“Then, I’m glad you asked me.” 

There it is again. That warm, sort of fluttery feeling he gets in his chest being around you. He wonders if he’s allowed to be so happy. 

The food arrives at the counter, the young woman calling out for Gojo. You and Gojo split the task of carrying the plates, picking a nice booth in the corner with the top covered, You slide in across from him, situating your bag. 

You and Gojo go back and forth, setting up everything so it looks nice under the lights. Gojo takes on taking the photos this time, clicking from a few different angles and stopping to show you after each photo. 

“I’ll send you the picture later, okay?” 

“Don’t forget.” 

“I won’t, I won’t. Let’s eat, okay?” 

You nod enthusiastically.

__ 

You and Gojo eat and chat comfortably for a while. 

He’s not sure how much time passes. He wasn’t checking because why would he? He’d like to be with you a bit longer, so he refrains from thinking about it and hopes you do the same. Just a bit more, he tells himself. Until you really, really have to go. 

There’s nothing major to catch up on. You tell Gojo about your job, mostly and how you saw some friends from out of town the week before. Winter is coming and you want to do something nice for the holidays. You’re getting along well with your fellow teachers which is good. He was worried about that, but he can’t keep eyes on you at school. 

(Not for not having tried. He’s thought about it, but his presence would be too noticeable and he doesn’t trust anyone else to the task) 

So it’s relieving. Your only complaint has been that some of the students have the sort of parents you can’t handle. Pushy and involved in a way you can’t ignore but can’t tolerate either. Gojo jokes to take care of them, gesturing to his arm like he’s ready to knock someone's lights out. 

That makes you laugh, and following it you have this melancholy look that sends alarms blaring in Gojo’s head. You don’t broach the subject at all afterwards. You talk about everything else you can. The sale on radishes at the market, thinking about getting a car just to have it, maybe visiting your parents sometime soon. 

Gojo listens. He doesn’t have much to add. His work is strictly classified to people who aren’t in the field and it’s nothing fun to begin with. He does tell you what he can - usually about some antics his students have gotten into during training. He can at least talk about that. 

He tells you about the movies he’s watched, how he went drinking with his co-workers last week, and how he thinks Pokupan is starting to act friendlier to him. 

It’s fun because it’s you. Gojo likes feeling like he’s involved with you intimately. He likes hearing you talk. The sound of your voice is such a pleasant contrast to his own. You talk with a kind of joy Gojo could never hope to carry, all gestures and smiles and interjections - trying to make sure your point comes across. How you don’t think the kid sitting in the front is a bad kid, just needs guidance. How the material of your sweater isn’t really cashmere but more of a blend. 

Time passes  comfortably that way. The drinks and food have been reduced to crumbs and cold drops of tea, glasses emptied and phones abandoned. 

But neither of you have made any move to leave, and Gojo is still listening to you talk with a pleased smile on his face. It was a pleasant sort of day, remember? 

“So it was fine in the end, but the classroom was such a mess seriously―” 

So, it throws Gojo off when you stop speaking so abruptly. How easily the atmosphere melts, and what an unpleasant film it leaves behind. 

It feels like an axe hammering on a stop, a sharp and near violent thud that cuts off the end of your sentence. The air becomes tense in the blink of an eye. Gojo can feel it, the sensation of cursed energy. It’s stagnated, little like pebbles at the bottom of a creek. But it’s there, and Gojo can feel it creep over your shoulders like a sixth sense. Like someone skipped a stone over that same water. He senses it in the air like dust in the light.

He sits up straight, focusing his attention on you. 

“Hey,” He calls out, softening his voice as much as he can. Trying hard to identify what's wrong exactly “You okay?” 

Your hands shake as you lay them flat on the table. You’re almost completely spaced out by now. It all happens in the blink of an eye. 

Gojo stares at you, calling to you a second time. 

“Hey. Hey, look at me?” 

When you finally hear him, you jump in your skin. Your shoulders relax when you realize it’s only Gojo. Normally that would make him happy, but not like this. Your hands are shaking. A nervous fidget in all of your movements that he’s never seen before, like you’ve been shocked with electric wire. He hates it. The taste of your fear (this fear) is different and unfamiliar. 

He doesn’t like it. 

You turn your head to look at him then avert your eyes again. He can’t follow your gaze as it shifts. It’s too erratic.

“No, uhm. It’s just, uhm.” 

“Woah! Hey, Miss. I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” 

Everything feels like it slows down as Gojo watches your eyes snap up. Your expression drops again, even lower, and if he listens close enough he can hear the sound of your heart. Your discomfort is tangible. It leaves a metallic taste in Gojo’s mouth as you suddenly curl in yourself, shoulders hunched and peeling skin off your nails. 

You don’t even look to Gojo for help. Instead, your words go soft.  You become helpless in front of his eyes. 

“Oh. Yes, hello.” You bow your head trying to say as little as possible. Gojo stares as you shake like a leaf in the wind. Something ugly curls up inside of him, a knife twisting in his chest. 

“Aw, c’mon? What’s with the unfriendly act? Is it ‘cause you’re here with your boyfriend?”

You look up at him panicked. Not because of the comment, but because of his tone. Gojo hears it too. How sinister it is. Like he’s blaming you for it somehow, like you’ve wronged him. The feeling inside of him is so ugly, it’s so wretched. His knuckles turn nearly white from how hard he’s closing his fist. You put your hands up and go to explain yourself anxiously. 

It makes Gojo sick. He smiles, turning his head just a little so he can see. He opens his eyes and stares, focusing his vision on remembering every detail of the bastard's face.

“I’m not her boyfriend. We’re neighbors,” He explains, tone as cold as ice but smiling. 

Gojo puts pressure in the atmosphere. His natural and suffocating aura returns to him easily. He smiles and remains unnervingly still, waits in quiet for the man to respond. He scratches the back of his head, still indignant. 

“Uh. Okay. I guess that’s good. Wouldn’t be appropriate for a teacher to be out on a date like this huh?” 

Again. This guy, whoever he is, turns his head like he’s trying to talk down to you. Diverts his perversion and sadism towards you that leaves Gojo wondering what his head would look like against concrete. A bitter, heinous feeling waits inside of him, nesting into his ribs as the sound of every voice in the room comes to be muffled. All Gojo can hear is his heart. How long it's been since he’s heard it. 

It’s loud. A cacophony, or a hymn. Divine rage in the sound of his soul leaves has him unsure of how to proceed. 

Gojo glances at you. Your eyes are rounded, full of desperation. Pleading. 

Gojo hates whoever this is. Gojo wants to save you. He thinks you deserve to be saved. 

He stands up. He has enough height on the guy to be intimidating, the guy just barely coming up to his shoulder. Gojo stares down wildly, pulling his glasses to the bridge of his nose to peek briefly over the edge. The bastard stops talking immediately, words coming to a stutter, It’s satisfying. 

“Who are you?” He asks. 

“Wh-why is that any of your concern? Can’t you see I’m talking to―” 

“I didn’t ask about who you were talking to. I asked who you were,” 

He hears you from behind him “He’s a parent from my school,”

“Ah, okay. Interesting. Since you’re a parent, we wouldn’t want to make this a confrontation right?” Gojo says, bemused “It’d be a real issue for everyone if it turned out that way,” 

Gojo puts a hand on his shoulder, tightening his grip hard enough to hear him gasp. He’s weak, but that’s to be expected.

“So, I suggest you turn around and head home, hm? Since we wouldn’t want it to be a big fuss.” 

Gojo can see it now. With a little pressure, he could turn the blade of his shoulder in sawdust and watch him fall to his knees. He’d let out a cry, a sharp pathetic wail like a hit dog. Gojo would make him say sorry to you before he lets up his hand from his skin. He’d do it infront of everyone in the store so they could hold a little fear in their hearts. 

He won’t do it. Just for now. If it complicates your work then you wouldn’t be able to support yourself. What would he do if you ended up somewhere far away? Out of his sight, something like this could happen again and Gojo wouldn’t be able to take care of you. 

So he doesn’t crush it. He pushes his palms into his shoulder blades and whispers quietly, just so the two of them hear. He pulls away and watches as his face goes pale, a simple stutter leaving his lips. Something about how he’ll see you later and that somethings come up before he turns around and leaves.

Gojo watches as he does. The door chimes again, and the man disappears. The patrons who might’ve glanced turn away again like it was just a simple altercation, which is good. Then finally, Gojo looks at you where you are. Your hands are trembling so hard, a shake of relief in your shoulders as you cover your face. You look like you’re getting ready to cry, so Gojo takes it into his own hands. He cleans up all the food, wipes the table, and even grabs your jacket and bag as you take a minute to collect yourself. 

He taps your shoulder lightly afterwards, waiting for you to look up. Once you do he smiles, reaches a hand out to you so you don’t have to think twice. 

“About time to get out of here, huh?” 

You nod, so slowly. You look so relieved, even as you sniffle. Your hand is so small compared to his. He squeezes it protectively as you slide it into his own, and helps you walk out of the store together. 

The air is cold, the same as before, the temperature having warmed just a bit. The bell above the door rings as the two of you finally leave, standing in the street. Unlike before though, there’s something bitter in the air. The sun has hidden itself completely in the clouds and the streets feel emptier, lifeless. 

Gojo turns to you with a somber expression, trying to smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Do you want to go somewhere to talk about it, maybe?” 

You chew your lower lip then sigh “...Yeah. Probably should, huh?” 

You and Gojo decide on a place not too far from where you are. It’s a small park, a good place to end off an otherwise good day. 

You have to take the bus to get there, but there’s not many people. Gojo eventually gives you back your things, lets you slide your jacket on and fix your face - but ultimately takes your hand and holds it on the ride there. He brings it to his lap and you don’t pull away even though you seem to fidget the whole time. 

The bus finally stops in front of the park. It takes hardly any time, but Gojo finds he’s unable to let go of your hand so he doesn’t. Instead, he holds tight and lets you trail behind. You let him lead you quietly out back in the street. You give your thanks to the driver as the doors close. 

He can’t let go of your hand, though he knows now would’ve been a good time to do it. His grip only grows tighter. 

“Let's go find somewhere to sit,” He offers. You squeeze his hand this time and don’t look away. 

“Okay,” 

He tries to keep pace with you this time, instead of walking ahead. Your strides are shorter than his so he’s careful that you don’t fall behind. Your eyes still have that watery look to them but you’re no longer trembling from fear. Just the cold, if anything. 

And your heartbeat no longer sounds so hazardous. Gojo is still restless, still fidgety. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin but it’s not really for you. 

You find a bench, eventually - in the middle of the long walk-way just a distance away from a playground. Gojo juts his chin out towards it, before turning over to look at you.

“Let’s go sit,” 

You nod as you walk together towards it. You sit first, and Gojo finally lets go of you. He sits besides you. There’s a minute where the whole world is deathly quiet. There should be something calm about it, but it isn’t. You’re no longer terrified, and a distance away. There’s no danger lurking in the dark and there’s no cars passing or children crying. 

Everything is calm and silent, but Gojo couldn’t feel more unease if he tried. He thinks he hides it well. But there’s that itch again, in a place behind his ribs he can’t reach into and he finds it hard to breathe. 

“So,” He starts, breaking the tension “I’m guessing it’s not a friend,” 

The stupid joke makes a smile appear on your lips. It’s small, but Gojo takes some comfort in it anyway. You wipe away your lower lash gently, a wet laugh leaving your mouth. 

“No, not a friend. He’s uhm… a parent from my school.” 

“The one who’s been bothering you for all these weeks?” Gojo supplies. You turn your head, eyes widened in surprise. Gojo lets out a breathy laugh. 

“You….knew?” 

“Not about him specifically, but I could tell something was bothering you,” He admits, and then adds “I always pay attention to my favorite person, you know?” 

The addition has you looking away, but Gojo doesn’t mind. You sigh, rubbing your face with your palms before leaning back against the bench with your head hanging off the edge. 

“He’s the parent of one of my students. Akio, he’s a good kid. A really well-behaved one but… too well-behaved. Never raises his hand, never complains or says he won’t do something.” 

“I’m guessing that sent off an alarm bell, huh?” 

You nod softly. 

“Yeah. I figure it was something at home, but I’d met his mom prior and she was a real angel. Then, his dad came to visit. The man we met at the store, and I knew right away.” 

Gojo feels his jaw clench listening to you talk. 

“But still, you know, my job as a teacher is to be as respectful as I can. I always politely declined him when he would make comments and remained professional. Eventually, his mom stopped coming altogether and—I tried, I really—but he…” You trail off, a lump in your throat. He watches as tears form in your eyes, his anger getting more and more tangible. He tries not to express it, putting a hand on your knee “He just… kept pushing. A-and once, he looked like he was gonna get violent. I made a report, you know, to the school. But you know how they are,” 

“They never even bothered investigating huh,” Gojo sneers. You laugh a tired sort of laugh. 

“Of course not. After that, I just tried to endure it. And I know he hasn’t done anything technically, but it doesn’t really feel like a matter of if but when,” You explain haphazardly.  Gojo squeezes where his hand rests. 

“I believe you. It’s okay,” He says as soothingly as he possibly can “It’s okay. I’m here,” 

There’s a sense of relief that washes over your whole body and before he knows it, you’re breaking down. He feels a lot of emotions all at the same time, watching your little frame as you lose it so easily in front of him. A part of him is so furious he wants to make it everyone's problem. Another part of him is so deeply sad knowing you’ve suffered all on your own. 

And the most notable part of him is the sense of protectiveness, burrowing inside of him. A sense of possession. It sinks into him like teeth, seeps into his blood like the venom of an animal so that he bleeds and breathes it. Gojo can’t shake that deep sense of urgency, a nameless and faceless desire that consumes him. He shudders.. He holds it in, all of it. Cups his hands so desperately so that it doesn’t spill over and touch you, the ink of ruining the soft white of your clothes. 

In a world that you have made beautiful, desire is ugly. Hideous and infectious, it tears Gojo limb from limb. It makes Gojo feel on edge. Gojo should not desire for any more than what he was. People always die when he does. 

But maybe they don’t have to. Maybe, he can protect you. He can keep you safe. He wants to keep you safe. He wants to keep you all to himself.

It’s in an effort to soothe those feelings that his arms find themselves around your form. It’s the first time you’ve hugged in such an intimate way. Where expects you to turn away - you don’t. 

Instead you cling, your arms around his jacket and your face in his chest. You cry and weep and sob and you look so small like that. You look like you’ll collapse and Gojo holds you. Says it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay as you let it all out. It must feel good to finally let it all out, after everything and he doesn’t intend to stop you. 

“I promise I’ll always protect you from now on,” And he says it, and means it. If you feel the weight of his statement, you don’t let it show “It’s okay. You can cry if you need too,” 

You cry and cry and cry. 

And Gojo thinks the call of heaven is nothing in comparison to the sound. 

__

In the end, Gojo can’t forgive him. 

It’s not without effort. He tries to do it at your request, because after all the tears he wants to help. He says he can maybe pull some strings. But that gentle heart you have declines. You don’t want it to become a big deal. You feel a little better knowing he knows. In the end, you don’t want it to affect that brats reputation. 

“You know how kids can be,” You say, voice full of concern for everyone but yourself “I don’t want to make school life anymore difficult than his life at home must be,” 

So, Gojo tries to listen to you. But days pass, and days turn into weeks. In the end, a month goes by and Gojo is full of terrible and divine anger. 

In the end, Gojo won’t forgive him. Gojo can’t let it go. He feels so righteous in it, he starts avoiding his own eyes in the mirror. There’s something inside of them he has no desire to look at. Eyes that tell all, Gojo turns away from their gaze. Gojo is angry for you, and it’s not in his character to do nothing about it. 

He decides on less of a whim that it looks. He wonders about alternatives, if there’s anything that can stop this feeling from imploding inside of him but nothing comes.

When he decides that nothing can be done, Gojo goes out of his way to start watching him. 

Like any mission, he needs enough background information to map out a plan.  He wants to make sure that it has virtually no pushback for you. There’s always a possibility you’ll get caught in the crossfire and that’d be the worst possible outcome. Gojo can protect you from a lot of things, but he’s not as confident about the law. 

(Not that he can’t. Just not in the good, right way he’s sure you want him to protect you in. Gojo’s love is divine, not right. There’s nothing in this world Gojo can’t shield you from, because he’s the strongest.)

 He also can’t make anything obvious or leave any room for interpretation. If there’s anything that feels off when the reports go live - you’ll stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. He thinks in the instance you find out (about all of it, the premeditation  especially) you’d probably tuck your tail and run. 

(Gojo would find you. But the chase means there’s some time you’re apart. The thought is almost nauseating.) 

He likes that you’re curious about everything. In most instances anyways. But he thinks it’s better to leave you in the dark sometimes. Having you worry about it would ruin the point of this. And sometimes, it’s better not knowing every detail. Honeytraps are more ethical than nets. 

He’s doing it for you in the end, like he does most things. And the kid will benefit, maybe even get some sympathy from his classmates for a while about the tragedy that befell his father. Gojo thinks it’s a good plan because no one loses.  It’s a lot like killing a curse. 

It only takes two weeks to learn virtually everything there is to know. A guy like that doesn’t have much he can hide. 

The name of his target, he learns, is Nobu Watanabe. Father to Akio Watanbe and ex-husband to Akiko Watanbe. He’s a recently released felon (let off on good behavior) with a battery and assault with a deadly weapon charge. He’s a college drop-out, and has been working a lot of odd-jobs since he was 16.

His personality is bad, worse is his drinking and smoking habits. He’s often found drunk in the street, and has a track record for single nights spent in a cell. His ex-wife is usually the one bailing him out. Gojo can’t help but feel sorry for her. Somehow, he doubts that he’s good to her. He’s a deadbeat father through and through. He only offers to pick up his kid to harass you. At least from what he can tell. 

He isn’t as awful to his kid as everyone else. Gojo doubts that was always the case. Akio isn’t a bad kid, but it’s hard not to notice the way the light in his eyes disappears when his father comes around to pick him up. A head always looking towards the floor, hands tucked in his pockets. 

It’s difficult for Gojo to feel any guilt about what he’s doing. After everything, he can’t find it in himself to feel any regret. 

His target is currently working at a dock, not too far from the city. He seems to work there most days, working at a bar on the weekends. It’s a big company that handles foreign goods that he does physical labor for. Lifting and moving boxings, checking inventory - it’s not a complicated affair. 

If there’s not a major shipment, he still seems to clock in so he’s definitely paid some kind of hourly wage. He smokes often on the job, but works diligently when there is something to do. An easy but physical job, he’s strong. Gojo can understand what intimidates you about him. 

Gojo, though, isn’t intimidated by him at all. 

He waits a week before he takes action. To shake off anyone or anything that might be trailing him, and to make sure that everything is the same as he observed. That his schedule wasn’t going to change. A week passes, and when Gojo has confirmation - he decides to do what he does best. 

Gojo Satoru decides to play God on a Sunday.

Sunday is a day shipments come in and a day he often works alone. The pay is better on Sunday and Nobu is the only one on his shift who takes it. He’s not expected to finish the strenuous work because he’s alone for such a long stretch of time - just to make a dent in it. The people at the next shift are the ones who finish the job. 

He starts his day as early as 6am. It’s near winter, so the world is painted in a miraculously melancholy blue. Gojo follows him that morning. He knows the route well enough to trail behind him and not attract any attention. They pass together, turning corners and taking bus rides until Nobu’s finally in at his job. 

There, they part briefly. His target goes into the big white building and he goes on top. Gojo has to teleport to the roof because everything is gated with security cameras covering every inch of the property. Following him puts Gojo at risk. So he waits on top of the building, hands in his pocket and pacing until Nobu comes out the otherside to the docks. His jumpsuit put on haphazardly, only half-pulled up to his waist, with a clipboard and pen as a bunch of boxes waiting for him to check them. 

After Gojo confirms that he’s alone, he lies in wait. He sits and waits - watching as the clouds pass. Watching the open sea, how it remains unchanging no matter what boats pass through to shore. He looks at his phone every now and again to check the time. 

It shouldn’t be too difficult to actually do it. 

You know, if Gojo turns his infinity on, there’s nothing in the world that can touch him. He can touch it, but it can’t touch him. There will always be a barrier between his hands and the world. Between him and the known universe, a bridge that started burning the minute Gojo was born into it. If Gojo turns on his infinity, there’s no way to leave traces of him behind. 

Did you know? If Gojo turns on his infinity, his fingerprints don’t show up. There’s no DNA to find. Not a trace of him in the world that he hasn’t left purposefully. Even if Gojo chokes him with his hands bare hands - he wouldn’t be touching him. But Gojo can feel it. Feel his pulse, feel his breathing come down slowly.

If there’s such a thing as heaven or hell, Gojo wants to ask God about being homicidal. If it was a flaw of human design or their Lord reflected inside of them. 

He lies in wait on top of the roof until 7. 

When 7 hits, the world around him is still so dark. No one kills in broad daylight. The heavens are murky, sky full of black clouds like puffs of smoke. It’s freezing cold, a spine-tingling chill making its way up Gojo’s skin and hardening his hands. . Gojo waits for the doors of the garage to creak open. When the sound echoes into the air, a metal screech in the void, Gojo stands to his feet. 

He jumps to the ground, landing with a dull thud. He comes out unscathed, a cat on his feet. He dusts off the front of his pants. Nobu hasn’t taken notice of him. Gojo takes a look around them. There’s no cameras in the warehouse. Gojo waits alone in the dark. 

Five minutes. It’s five minutes when all of the lights go out. 

“What the fuck?” Nobu mumbles, dropping his clipboard on top of a bunch of boxes, running a hand through his hair. Gojo waits in silence, watches as he turns around. 

When he finally does, he jumps back in shock. Gojo feels a cold chill run through his body. 

“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” Nobu asks. Gojo grins. 

“Ah, you don’t remember? We met a few weeks ago! We had a nice little exchange and everything.” He says, voice going higher by an octave. The man in front of him stares, off put by Gojos’ presence. He stumbles in his thinking, his body tensing up. 

“Who the…what the fuck is going on?” 

“Hey, don’t be so scared,” Gojo says, then uses his teleport to phase himself closer. Nobu’s eyes widen, shocked. Scared out of his wits, with the story of heartbeat like he’s being hunted. “Tough guy like you has nothing to be scared of, does he?” 

“W-w-what…how did you…” 

Gojo shakes his head. 

“Don’t worry about it, man.” He says, voice calm and smooth and even. He’s surprised by how his emotions feel in his body. Like he’s so angry that he’s not. There’s something inside of him, the white waters that wade, that Gojo can feel. It’s strange “We’ve got about 5 minutes till the lights come back on.” 

For a while, they stand at a draw. No one moves. Not him, or Nobu, or the open oceans. It’s quiet for a dock. Even quieter for a dock in Tokyo, and Gojo’s not even using his abilities. He probably won’t need too, other than infinity - there’s not any good reason for him to exert himself any more than he must. 

Weeks of planning, weeks of watching, weeks of waiting. Nothing feels like it matters at the moment. He wants it to be over soon-ish. 

It’s not that Gojo is particularly sadistic. 

It’s just that, everything feels like it’s teetering over this very moment. He thinks it to himself quietly like someone trying to remember where they last left their keys. 

Briefly, Gojo thinks “I can’t go back,” after this. In the back of his head he just knows.

He envies this aggravating strangers' ignorance, too. 

“What do you want from me?” He says, stuttering - a gasping breath of fear in his lungs that snaps Gojo out of his thoughts. Gojo shrugs. 

“Nothing, really. I’m not short on money, you know? I make a good living,” He says, spouting off about nothing as he closes the gap between them. Stepping closer infinitely until Gojo backs him into the garage, into the tall tower of boxers where there’s no cameras and no witnesses “Hm…is there anything you can do to fix this?” 

No, Gojo answers mostly to himself, But wouldn’t that be nice? 

“P-please, I have—” 

“A son right? And an ex-wife, and a dead mom in Saitama. You didn’t think I came here without doing any research, did you? We’re the same in that way you know, I might be a frivolous - but hell if I’m not diligent,” 

He looks like he’s going to throw up. Gojo remains indifferent. 

“Who are you?” He asks, this time really wondering. With that hoarse voice of curiosity, of defeat.

Gojo hums.

“Good question. Who do you think I am?” Gojo poses and lifts his hands up. He puts them around his neck, pushing hard until his back is against the stack of boxes. It’s dark but Gojo can see everything. He keeps his open, tightening the grip of his hands slowly. 

Nobu tries to spit something out but the words get sputtered, muffled by lack of oxygen. 

“Do you think I’m a devil? An angel? God? I wonder,” Gojo says, staring. With his mask on, but his eyes opened wide. “Guess I’m kind of like a boogeyman,” 

Gojo can feel it. His body underneath his palms, gasping and struggling for air. He can feel his hands try to pry his hands off. He can feel his body slowly start to lose its air, how he deflates like a balloon. Gojo is unmoving, unfazed, unworried. He’s near motionless except the hard grip of his hand on his neck and the pulse that slows gently under his palms. 

It takes 5 minutes, maybe less, with all the strength in both his hands. Gojo isn’t counting. He holds on for maybe 2 minutes after that, just to make sure it’s not a fluke. He waits till the heart stops sounding in his ears and until the body is completely limp except for where Gojo is holding him away. He goes out sad. Useless, even. 

When Gojo stops, Nobu’s body drops to the floor with a dull thud. He stares at it for a while, then sighs. It’d be nice if he could just leave it there, but he does his due diligence. Picks it up from the ground with relative ease, over his shoulders. 

He walks it out towards the dock - the very edge, before tossing it in water and watching it sink. When it disappears from his sight, Gojo is left with his reflection in the deep blue. He meets his eyes for the first time in weeks, and knows he’s seeing exactly what he thought he would. 

His anger has settled, just barely. Just enough to be able to see the change in his own vision. With his Six Eyes, Gojo can see that there’s no turning back.

 With his mask on, he looks at himself, warped in the vision of the sea. The vision of him—crystalline and white and blue—murky and moving. 

Gojo jumps to the roof and turns the light on again. The power comes back. 

A dog barks distantly, over and over and over. Gojo watches the sun rise alone. 

__

The following weeks pass without a hitch. Gojo feels like nothing has changed. 

(But that’s not true. Everything is different. The same but different)

At the two week mark, winter has set in and Gojo is spending time with you in your apartment together. Currently, you’re cooking dinner (after carefully instructing Gojo to stay put in the living room.) Gojo is sitting watching T.V. He’s helping you grade papers at the coffee table, humming to himself. 

It’s about 7 when the news starts to play. A local news channel and a familiar face on the T.V. Gojo is surprised when the breaking news report airs. 

“Two weeks ago, a missing persons report was filed for ex-convict Nobu Watanbe. Sources say he was last seen working at a Dock in Tokyo - which experienced a power outage. It’s reported that Nobu seemed to have gone missing at the time, and hasn’t made contact with anyone since then. Could this be the work of a…” 

The rest of the report  Gojo tunes out. He turns his head slightly to see if you’ve noticed. Your eyes are glued to it., standing and staring silently. You place your spatula on a towel on the counter.

“We got word about a week prior to this,” You say, breaking the silence after some time without Gojo prompting. He looks at you “Akio started coming with his mom again and she gave me the story. It wasn’t unusual for him to up and disappear, but he hadn’t done so since Akio was born,” 

“That so?” Gojo says, nonplussed. You nod. 

“I feel guilty but,” You trail off, rubbing your arm anxiously “I can’t help but be… relieved. Just a little. I don’t want the guy to be dead or anything, but it,” 

Gojo stops you in the middle of your sentence. 

“You don’t have anything you need to feel guilty about,” He corrects, voice stern. You give him a sad look but he remains firm in his stance “He was harassing you for weeks. It’s only natural that you feel relieved, you know?” 

You’re not entirely content with the response, but you seem to know well enough this isn’t something Gojo will compromise on. You sigh, looking down at the floor. 

“Yeah. That’s true I guess, but still. I wonder what happened to him, or if he just decided to run away,” 

Gojo pretends to think about it. 

“Maybe. Otherwise…guess it was God’s divine punishment,” He says, continuing to grade papers. He doesn’t even look up as he says it. You let out a puff of air through your nose in amusement . 

“Yeah,” You say, “Maybe. I should thank him some time,”

Gojo hums.

“I don’t think that’s a bad idea,” 

[cloudcountry]

Hello, I wanted to ask if you could please write something with Eiland or reader confessing their feelings to the other? It could be intentional or accidental, completely up to you.

I would really appreciate it if you could, but I understand if you don’t have the time. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a lovely day and everyday forward! 💕

SUMMARY: you have a reason to stay in mistria now.

COMMENTS: OH OF COURSE I CAN WRITE THIS <333 I LOVE EILAND MWAH i wrote this in like forty minutes sobs im too tired to edit if you see a typo no you dont

It’s your soft breathing and the way the back of your hand brushes against his that makes his stomach flip, his heart fluttering anxiously in his chest. Eiland isn’t sure how much longer he can hold on to the emotions swelling in his chest, begging and pleading to be set free as if they’ve been imprisoned inside his chest for the better part of two years.

In some way, Eiland supposes they had.

You just look so nice tonight, the most lovely thing you’re wearing being your smile, flashes of teeth as you laugh and the delicate curve of your lips catching his eye. Your laugh is like a siren call, and he finds himself recalling everything he knows about the Mermaid’s Comb in the museum to calm down. While it’s technically not related to sirens, it's the closest thing his scrambled mind can think of right now.

It does little to help when all that blasted comb does it make him think of you lovingly brushing his hair as the fireplace crackles in the background and he tells you about his latest archaeological discovery.

“Eiland?” you whisper, soft as the night breeze and the muted hollering from the Inn.

He makes a noise of acknowledgement, looking over at you. You’re looking at him too, eyes wide and bright, and his heart shudders when he sees the stars from above reflected in your pupils. He swallows, finding the courage in his heart to press the back of his hand right against yours. You gasp, soft and surprised, and Eiland feels so warm.

“There’s...I received an offer from the Capital.” you murmur, voice shaking as you try to maintain your composure, “They heard about my accomplishments in Mistria and wanted me to take on some higher level jobs for some nobles.”

Eiland's heart drops right out of his body, slamming into the cobblestones beneath his feet.

No.

He opens his mouth and you grab his hand, giving him a meaningful look. He shuts his lips tight, pulling them into a thin line, cheeks heating at the touch.

“It got me thinking about...where I want my life to go. I’m not getting any younger.” you admit, “And I don’t want my life to be at the Capital at all. They’ve been badgering me about new jobs and they keep raising the money I could earn but it’s...it’s not enticing.”

Eiland’s eyes are searching yours, unaware of what you’re trying to say, his brain processing your words over and over and over again, trying to find your meaning. Your thumb is stroking the back of his hand and it makes him shiver—if you asked, he could blame it on the wind, but he knows how desperate he is for you to be near him and how badly it affects him when you are.

“I wanted to tell you this first because...well, I’m not sure if you’d feel the same way or not...but I don’t want to leave here. I’m satisfied with what Mistria has given me. I came here for the land, but that land has become my home. And I want to share it with someone someday.”

Him reading to you by the fireplace. Having Adeline over for family dinners. Watering your crops in the morning before you get out of bed. Making you breakfast every morning. Cleaning the house while you’re gone. Having his own home library, a mixture of your tastes and his. You being an in-law to his aunt and sister.

“I was thinking...if I was going to stay here, and if I was going to share my life with someone...well, I...”

You hand feeding him sweets. You two sitting in rocking chairs on a rainy day. You calling him baby or honey or boyfriend or love or darling or husband. The two of you visiting the General Store to pick up groceries. The whole town knowing you’re together.

You swallow, as if preparing for something.

Eiland’s imagination is too far away from him now.

“I would want that person to be you.”

Eiland freezes, flushed cheeks burning and pretty lips parted. His eyes are wide, unbelieving, and with the way his heartbeat pounds in his ears he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

“What?” is the only thing he can muster, shaking fingers intertwining with yours, darting eyes searching yours like a man gone mad.

“In other words,” you tear your gaze away, flustered at the proximity, knowing anyone could walk outside of the Inn at any given moment and see you, holding hands with Eiland, nearly pressed against his chest, “I want to be with you.”

Eiland’s face brightens, his arms pulling you into him and you crash against his chest. His arms soften your fall, holding you up and he squeezes you close, nose pressed to your skin and hair tickling your face. You can feel his excited breaths against the warmth of your cheeks and you squirm, flustered and unused to the proximity.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just so happy.” he sounds like he’s about to cry, hands pressed to your back like you’re his salvation, “I’ve liked you for so long. I didn’t think you’d felt the same.”

“I do.” you confess, wiggling his hold just loose enough to free your hand, running your fingers through his hair, “You’re a treasure Eiland. I like you very much.”

Eiland pulls away and laughs, joyful and boyish, his grin infectious.

“To think, you would deny the Capital for me!” he places a hand over his heart, eyes crinkling in the corners as he gazes upon you adoringly, “My dear, I am smitten with you!”

[onskepa]

Left Behind: Moments

Here is another chapter of the left behind series! Hope you all enjoy!

Left behind series

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Jake’s pov 

“So ummm…..I was told to vlog my day to day stuff. Guess to keep record of things I do and not lose my shit on this planet” Jake tells himself on camera. It has been a few hours since he woke up from his cryo sleep. His body ached, felt like a statue from not moving for 5 years. 

“This is year is 2154….those fuckers lied. It's been 7 years since I left Earth for this jungle gym crap. 7 years felt like nothing. My baby girl, probably in her preteen years right now. I wonder how she is doing. I wouldn't blame her if she hates me, no scratch that. She is incapable of hate. Maybe mad, yeah. But not hate. I want this mission to be done and over with.” 

Jake’s pov

“First day in my avatar…gotta say, it felt fucking amazing. I was able to breathe the native air! Best part, I can run! WOOHOOO! YES! Oh man, never in my life have I felt this amazing. Though I did get carried away. When I woke up in my new body, the excitement got to me. I ran almost all over the fields, the basketball court, the botanical gardens, it felt great. Almost got in trouble but grace was there to save my ass” 

“Still have to adjust to this body, grace is giving me a week to get used to it. I am not the only one though, there is a weird guy named Normal Spellman. Nerdy but otherwise cool. He is the one who studies alongside with tommy. Good pals I can only imagine. He just got his avatar too”

“I bet if my baby girl was here, she would be surprised. With everything really. Maybe a bit scared. Would enjoy it no doubt. Learn how this planet works. I cant help it. I wonder what she is doing. Is she making friends? Doing good in school? So many things. But I know the sooner I get this mission done, the sooner I get home to her” 

“Gotta rest now, got a big day tomorrow, this is Jake Sully, singing out” 

Jake’s pov 

“Colonel Quaritch, tough and kinda scary guy but he keeps people safe here. As safe as it can get on this planet. Met him in the brief meeting as a welcome home type of talk. But, weirdly enough, I admire him. He seems to know what he is doing and how to do it. Said he has a special mission for me, didn't say what yet but to expect a visit from him soon” 

“I can worry about that later. Tomorrow starts a new mission. Get samples from more remote areas of the forest. Norm was given a special task. Try to make a peaceful contact with the aliens here. Na’vi is what they are called. Grace gave me a brief on them. Some important figures too. Guess they have a system of rulers here. Like the old native tribes back on Earth. My missions is to guard and make sure grace and norm get what they need” 

“I will be honest, does not seem too bad. Was given the ok to shoot any possible threats. Practice with the guns, proud to say I have not lost my aim. It is getting late but I still have to do this. Does keep my mind busy, recalling the day’s events. I am starting to get into a routine” 

“After shutting off the camera, I look at the picture of me and my daughter. I would stare at it for a while until my eyes drop. See this? It was the day I won a little toy for her at an arcade. She was so happy. Not often was I able to give her something new. Hopefully the paychecks are getting funded for her needs. I bet she is getting nice, brand new things” 

“So many birthdays I missed. Im so sorry baby girl, but I promise, the second I go back, I will give you the biggest hug ever. Buy you all the gifts you could ever want, hell, if the pay is that good, get a better place. Maybe close to your favorite park that you like to play in. Better yet, go to the zoo like you always wanted. I know you will be much older but I dont care. You are my baby girl for life. Nothing is going to change that” 

“Guess now I better log off. Big day tomorrow, this is Jake Sully, signing off”

Jake’s pov 

“Things didn't go right during the mission and I was split up from grace and norm. A giant weird animal, thana-something called by grace, deadly, found us. Had his eyes on me, grace told me to run so I went the opposite direction of where those to were, to not get them in the crossfire. Seriously, that animal was huge, but I guess by some miracle, a bigger animal came into view. Like in those old nature documentaries, the two giants began to fight. Either way, I made a run for cause I know it was not going to end pretty” 

“I got lost along the way, had no idea where I was or how far I was from the crew. Took me sweet time though. Admiring the pretty sights that Pandora had to offer. Felt like a kid again. Everything was bright, colorful, alive. I can see why the RDA wants to use the resources here. Crazy to think that Earth was one like this. Green, healthy, breathing” 

“Of course somewhere along the way I lost myself even more, lost my gun. Had to make a spear then turn it into  a torch because night came. Now night time felt like a whole different world. Everything glowed, pretty almost neon colors illuminated the plats. Some small creatures also glowed. Sad that I couldn't appreciate it enough. Got attacked” 

“Freaking hyena looking animals, running in a pack. The fire helped create a distance as I ran but they were too many, though I was done for. My ass got saved by an unlikely person” 

Jake’s pov 

“Neytiri, princess of the Omatikaya clan. Scary lady but she saved me. Called me a baby, and told me that I have a strong heart. Stuff happened and next thing you know, I am in their home base. Word passed and neytiri was tasked to train me. Teach me their ways. I am where the RDA needs me to be. It is now only a matter of time. Give the Colonel what he wants, give grace what she wants. It is a win-win situation” 

“Still holding out on that little meeting Quaritch wants to have with me. Maybe it won't be that far, since now I am within the premise of the indigenous, I guess I need to collect more info” 

“A lot happened so to say. I gotta rest soon. If allowed, I can bring something from here, take it with me when I get back home. Pictures seem the best answer. Or something na’vi related. My little girl knows so little of what is being told about pandora. Or knew I should say. How old is she now….? Probably a preteen. Guess I dodged a bullet. I know pre-teen years are hell. No, I shouldn't say that” 

“Soon baby girl. The wait will be worth it. Like I promised. Training day begins tomorrow, so, with that, this is jake sully, signing out” 

Jake’s pov 

“I am part of the people. I am the son of the people and child of Eywa. Passing my iknimaya, taming my ikran, everything. I am na’vi. It feels unreal, hard to accept. Tsu’tey and I are brothers, wasn't that long ago he wanted to kill me, calling me ugly, but now we are at the same level” 

“They celebrated my rebirth. It was fantastic, neytiri made me dance even though I was terrible at it. The whole thing felt magical. Truly, I felt like I really belonged somewhere, being accepted. It felt nice. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, it did get better” 

“Surprise surprise, I am now mated to neytiri. She took me to the tree of voices, telling me of how sacred and precious it is, being able to connect to their ancestors. It was beautiful. Neytiri was beautiful, still is. Taking my breath away, and my availability” 

“I wouldn't change it for anything, she is someone I have come to love with all my heart. As cheesy as it sounds, it's true. Neytiri changed me, made me better, and I have no regrets”

Jake’s pov 

“They are starting to pressure us, more like me. The RDA really want the omatikaya gone, away from their home tree. Just because it houses the materials they want. It is not easy, none of it is easy. To tell them to leave, when it's been their home for thousands of years. According to Grace, I don't doubt her. This is their home, it is us who are the aliens” 

“They are not going to leave, nothing is going to change their minds. Worst yet, I know quaritch will do drastic things to get what he wants. I was an idiot to follow him, to believe him. What he will do, knowing his tactics, he will shed blood and bullets. I need to warn neytiri, mo’at, tsu’tey. Can't believe this is coming out of my mouth, but I pray to Eywa, that she guides me. What can I do to make sure things don't go downhill” 

“I came to make good money, to finish the mission given to me and be done with. Now, I am in a moral dilemma. I am stuck” 

Jake’s pov

“I am sorry. No amount of sorry’s that I say will ever be enough for anyone. Not to neytiri, not to eytukan, not to mo’at, tsu’tey grace, norm, anyone. It will never be enough. I brought this to them, it is only right that I help. War is coming, and soon. So many na’vi died when they destroyed their home tree. Many wounded, kids, infants, innocent lives” 

“Grace and I did our best to warn them, tell them to leave. Tsu’tey was adamant to fight, their weapons useless against the valkyries. In an instant, all was gone. I wanted to apologize to neytiri, she was furious, telling me I am not one of those people. She is right. Before anything more could be done, those damn bastards forced me to pull out. Pushed me in a tight closure” 

“Quaritch, a beast he is, heartless. Keeping me locked up yet outside of my cage he dangles the picture of my little girl. Telling me it's not too late to take his side if I ever want to go back to earth and see her again. Going on about how she will react to all of this. Her father rebelling against humanity. As much as I hate to admit…”

“He is right….I dont know if I will see her again. I hate to say….sacrifices have got to be made. I'm sorry, but I have to atone my sins. Like I said, no amount of sorry’s will be enough. Not even for my little girl, I am sorry baby girl, but daddy is not coming home”

Jake’s pov 

“We won. Quaritch is dead, and unfortunately, so is Grace and tsu’tey. Both sides lost many lives. Yet that is war, but we won. Humans are no more, many left, only few remained. Sworn their loyalty to the na’vi. Only they can stay. We made many sacrifices, I made many.  Many I dont regret, or will look back to. This is the beginning of a new chapter for me. There is nothing left to hold me back, not my past, not my memories.  I am at peace with what I did” 

“Neytiri is with a child, I am excited, I am going to be a father. I cant wait when they arrive, I will be there, welcoming my son or daughter into a new world of peace. First born, neytiri likes to say it over and over.  She is not wrong, our first child together in a new era of peace” 

“However there is still one thing left to do. A grand celebration is going to be held” 

“This I look forward to, many are coming together for it. It is my birthday after all, can't miss my own party. So, one last time. This is Jake Sully, the human, signing out. For good” 

Third pov

A young girl looks at the last vlog of her father, Jake Sully, eyes wide as she takes in what she just saw. This was a side she never knew, nor did she think it would be hidden.  

She clenches her hands into a fist tightly, gritting her teeth, her body shaking in fury. Hot tears streaming down her face, not knowing whether to cry in sadness or scream in anger. So many emotions mixed, creating a tornado in her mind. 

Hearing a door open behind her, she turns to glare at the man. 

“Why….” was all she could say before breaking down.

Aaaaaaaaaaand that is it for this chapter of the ongoing series! This one I chose to have only jake be the main point, his vlogs. See how his mind changes, perspective and what lead to the final choice. Trust me, this will come back for future chapters. So until next time! See ya!

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[bahrtofane]

promises under the stars - jude pov

Jude never meant to replace you. But that's how it ended up isn't it. There's no one to blame but himself, no one behind each and every decision that now has him standing at the end of an aisle, waiting for his bride. A bride that isn't you. 

highly highly recommend reading this fic first. or else it kinda doesnt make a whole lot of sense on its own. then come back here. this is kinda like a part 2? kinda

shout out to this anon for this idea ! hope you like it

word count - 2.1K+

watch it - well angst, yet again. pregnancy talks the works. sorry if i used ur name for his wife xoxo. enjooyyy

p.s. - shout out to @anadiasmount for the inspo to create the image at the end ! go read all her stuff yall so good

—————-

He thinks the moment it all comes crumbling down is when he gets word of you getting mobbed. After you've just been to Madrid with him. And he can't do anything about it but send security and hope it doesn't get out of hand. 

He expects you to give up right then and there, curse him and wish for him to have nothing to do with your life again. But you don't. You can never bring yourself to blame him. To hate him.

Then comes your whole family suing him for something completely out of his control. Fresh after your father has threatened him, this is just what they need to come after him legally. 

It's okay because they don't win. Of course they don't. How stupid do you have to be to try and sue for going on vacation for someone you love. He wants to call you every step of the way. But his lawyer warns against it. So he doesn't. And you’re left in the dark.

Do you even know that they've tried to sue?

He can guess what you're thinking. He knows you too well. You think this is him taking an exit from his life. He doesn't want it to be this way. Maybe its for the best after all he finds himself thinking. Back to the thoughts of letting you go for your good as much as his. 

But like most things in life, things get muddy. 

He spends his time in a whirlwind of emotions, all leading back to you. He can not go more than an hour without you in his mind. 

Even if his texting habits dont show it, he wants to talk to you every second of every day. Do you remember when he would call you to complain about the mundane. When he stubbed his toe, or drank out of his mind, pressing his nose against the screen trying to feel you against him. 

Things have changed. He’s no longer the same youthful Jude with a penchant for recklessness. Taking day trips to see you, skirting around paparazzi and your families just to have a moment together.

He misses you, but he’s scared to reach out again. So he remains silent and an onlooker to your life. 

Funny isn't it. World class player with more money than he knows what to do with is scared to text you in fear of what your families will say or do. 

And yet, he can’t stay away for long can he. His resolve breaks on your birthday. Months and years have gone by. Legal cases are drawn out go figure. And he's been so busy with games every few days and events he can never say no too. When he gets home his bones ache, only finding the strength to clean himself up and go to bed. 

When he calls you he realizes maybe it's too late. That waiting for things to blow over have left a gap in your time together. He knows nothing but memories. Your life eludes him. He tries to go back truly, but seeing your story while you're out with friends, smiling- actually smiling. He thinks he better not intrude. 

His mother isn't helping one bit. She's come to the conclusion that the only way to move on and get your family off his back for good is to just move on. Find a “nice sensible girl” she says, smiling.  

Jude doesn't want to. It makes him sick. Kicking and screaming the whole way about it. It’s not a bad idea in theory. Pretend to date someone. Your family gets off his back his family of yours boom you can be happy together again. 

So he can learn who you are again. Find a way into your life. Do you still tilt your head when you're confused? He needs to get back to you. He can't let someone like you leave. He doesn’t just love you, he’s fascinated with the person you’ve grown into. 

The thought of you with anyone else makes him sick. He still loves you, and he makes himself believe that the same is true. 

If only right.

He meets Kaylie in the dead of winter. At a sponsorship event that he completely forgets about and shows up an hour late to. He looks around trying to find his agent but before he can even say his usual rounds of hellos he spots his mother standing with a blonde who clutches her necklace to her chest while she laughs.

This is the start of his own nightmare.

He comes back around when he knows he has to. After taking his sweet time talking to everyone. He tries to look for help to get out of the encounter but it's already too late. His mother is flagging him down. So he walks over, already sweating. 

His mother all but pushes them together. 

“What a couple you two are.” she beams, hands clasped together. 

He gives a tight lipped smile and tries to wiggle his way out the awkward slew of introductions Kaylie gives of herself. But his mother gives him a look, grabbing into his arm and making stand and listen. 

There's a look in his mothers eye, he knows what it means. This is the woman that's supposed to replace you. He feels sick. 

——-

Along the way he thinks that maybe this is what's best for him. For you. 

His family all love Kaylie. And she's sweet enough.

Nothing like you, dragging him into different clubs while you linked arms to get ice cream at the same time.

He finds it hard to keep up with her. Her life is fast paced, more so than his. Every time he calls she's in a different country it seems, catching flights and going to fancy resorts.

You never minded a quiet night in. Its what you loved, being able to exist with him. 

Most of all she doesnt know him. She knows Jude Bellingham. The player, the figure, the celebrity. She doesn't know that he has a bad habit of touching his ears when he's nervous, how his eyes go wide at praise and teasing. How without a hundred reminders and alarms he truly would be late for everything. You always helped getting him to things on time.

When you were both awkward pre teens struggling to make sense of the world, you’d stop by his house to make sure he wouldn’t miss the bus. Sitting next to him on the beaten leather seats, and spitting facts you learned the day before. 

He always listened. He still would today. 

He doesn't think Kaylie’s noticed anything about him. She spends most of their time together taking pictures and flaunting him around. He pretends it doesn't bother him. Is the peace even worth it at this point?

She doesn't know how much he loves making little daisy chains, how much he loved putting them in your hair when you were kids. You’d throw a fit, but he never missed the look in your eyes when his fingers would swoop down to settle them gently. 

Kaylie is beautiful. But she's not beautiful like you. She may have an expensive taste for clothes that allows her to put together a stunning outfit for any occasion, cleavage on display while she pouts her lips and bats her eyelashes for a kiss. Kisses he never gives her. He can't. Not when he knows you wait for him. 

Sure she's great by the average man's standards. But she's not lovely like you. You could be in a trash bag and he'd still think you're the most gorgeous person on the planet. 

He thinks this whole Kaylie thing will blow over, that he'll be able to get back to you. 

And he tells her this. 

He goes through the motions, just to shut everyone up. 

Sitting her down when his mother isn’t around, “I don't love you. I will never be okay. I'm only here to get my mom off my back.”

And she laughs, flicking her hair over her shoulder, “Okay Judey whatever you say,” bracelets clanking together.

The name makes him want to hurl. “Get out of my house.”

Kaylie has got it in her head that she's here to stay. They've gotten into screaming matches because she's gotten her hands on the spare key and spends her days lounging in his house while he's away. They're not even officially dating by any means. 

And he keeps finding her in his bed, in nothing but one of his shirts. Giggling and acting coy. He's losing his patience and losing it fast. 

“Why did you give her the key.” Jude storms into his mothers house. 

She's making tea, swirling a spoon in her mug,”she's your woman isn't she. She needs one.”

“No. She's not my woman and you know that. Everyone that.”

She set the spoon down in the sink, going over to where Jude stands.

“Jude. you need to focus on what's good for you. And she wasn't good. You should be lucky that they didn't win the case. I went and told them about Kaylie and how wonderful she is. Be thankful. “

He's losing his mind. He needs to talk to you. 

He gets the chance when he's back in his hometown. And he sees you. He doesn’t think he could ever miss you, not even in a crowd. A rush of people stop him from running right to you. So instead he texts you. For the first time in ages. 

Was nice seeing you.

He hopes you can read between the lines, that you still know him well enough to understand what he really means. 

I still see you. 

For Jude is a coward. 

——

You dont reply. He forces himself to go back to what hes been forced to know.

Kaylie is all over him, hands roaming his body. There are days when he gives in. Sharing a bed with her as a cruel demented way to find some sort of release from everything that goes on around him.  The look on her face after its all set and done makes him genuinely want to punch something. A look of arrogance, like she's won something. 

And to top it all off he's been called up for England. His life gets even busier, if possible. Trying to keep up with it all proves to be grueling.

But light comes in the form of you. In the form of a single text.

Watched you play tonight. I'm proud of you.

You're proud of him? You watched him? 

The words bring him to near sobs, the light of his phone illuminating his hotel room while hes getting changed into his pjs. It's completely dark, his personal preference. And hes so happy he would fly the damn plane himself to see you. 

Before he can even think of a reply Kaylie tells him she's pregnant. Barging into his room with a little white box in hand. He thinks is some sort of congratulations for the game. Tacky card, maybe a watch. 

When he opens it, his world comes to a halt. Its a single pregnancy test.

He wants to cry. He's too young to be having kids let alone with her. It makes no sense to him. He always used protection the handful of times they did sleep together. Each time he'd only cry in the shower trying to scrub off her smell and the feeling of her touch off of him. She's only a distraction he tells himself. Too late for those words now.

It feels so wrong, so so wrong. He was supposed to be waiting for you and here he is sleeping with another woman. Who's now pregnant. He wants to vomit. 

He's in too deep now. And he can't be a deadbeat dad. 

Thoughts of you get pushed back to his mind while he scrambles to deal with the consequences of his own actions. 

When they get back to Madrid, his mother doesnt let him off easy. Screaming at him till he thinks he's popped an eardrum. And yet there's a gleam in her eyes like she's happy it all worked out this way. Doting on Kaylie and rubbing her belly (that's not even close to showing yet), and calling herself grandma already. 

The next step is obvious. He has to marry her and make it work.

So he does. An impromptu wedding that happens so fast he doesn't even hear the congratulations from everyone. He doesn't know how to break it to you so instead he posts on instagram and tries to figure out what his life has become. 

Jude is nearing 25. He has a kid on the way. He's married. He hates his wife. He hate himself.  Can you ever forgive him?

[chaoticace2005]

The list of regrets I totally have and am not just writing because Charlie is making me, Vagina Vaggie is glaring at me, and I want the free rent:

By Angel Dust, 3 time X-X-X award winner.

(Warning, there is some victim blaming in this. The abuse Angel faces from Val is not his fault, but given that I’m writing this from his perspective I figured it would be something he’d add.)

1. Writing this list

2. Verbally complaining about writing this list cause now Vagina wants to stab me.

3. Only taking half my usual hit before starting today.

4. Complaining about not being high enough.

5. Not hiding my drugs better

6. Not having more stashes of drugs

7. Calling TV superior to radio.

8. Not killing that snake before he had a chance to go to the hotel.

9. Not “trying hard enough” at this shitty hotel.

10. Being too close to roof so the CRAZY BITCH COULD THROW ME OFF OF IT.

11. Walking up the stairs with Pentious only to have to go IMMEDIATELY BACK DOWN.

12. Signing my deal with fucking Valentino. Seriously I’m a fucking idiot.

13. Even suggesting the idea that Charlie should come to the studio. She’s just going to get hurt.

14. Mouthing off to Val.

15. Not getting Charlie out of the hotel sooner

16. Being such a pathetic, dick sucking ho who isn’t good at anything beyond sex.

17. Not being able to take all of this.

18. Not acting well enough cause some this bitchass cat is seeing through me.

19. Ever offering that bitchass cat my services.

20. Pushing Husk’s boundaries

21. Not being my true self.

22. Acting for so long I don’t even really know who my true self is

23. Being a dick to Charlie

24. Being a dick to Husk

25. Being a dick to everyone

26. Putting my dick in a vacuum cleaner.

27. Calling Smiles a creepy dommy daddy.

28. Letting Niffty know about some of my more kinky films. She’s getting ideas…

29. Trying to play poker with Husk (and not even strip poker!)

30. Testing if my venom works on myself (it doesn’t and now I have pink bite marks)

31. Leaving what I used to clean my bites out because somehow Alastor found them and is now TEMPORARILY PARALYZED AND I DONT WANT HIM TO KILL ME WHEN HE CAN MOVE AGAIN.

32. Not answering Val’s texts.

33. Wearing boots. Seriously these things hurt sometimes.

34. Having ugly feet so I can’t NOT wear boots.

35. Tracking mud into the hotel

36. Mentioning sex around the Egg Bois because now I have to explain what it is.

37. Describing sex as something their boss “has never had,” it got back to Pentious and I’m scared.

38. Mentioning “Vox” anywhere in Alastor’s vicinity.

39. Agreeing to play Monopoly with Niffty. In general Monopoly sucks but Niffty likes to get knives involved?!?!

40. Getting addicted to drugs.

41. Getting caught in that alleyway by my BITCHASS brother.

42. Not trying harder for Molly.

43. Not saying goodbye.

44. Fucking overdosing.

45. Doing literally fucking nothing with my life and nothing with my death.

46. Taking the easy was out and doing whatever pops told me to

47. Yelling “FUCK” loudly in church that one time

48. Not teaching these people at the hotel how to FUCKING MAKE SPAGHETTI RIGHT?!

49. Getting high with Cherri.

50. Telling Val to “fuck off”

51. Flirting with that one cannibal guy because now they all seem to want to EAT ME (and not in the sexy way)

52. Leaving those pot brownies out. High cannibals, Egg Boiz, and Nifftys are terrifying.

53. Letting myself be named “Angel” because this makes shit too damn confusing plus I think Niffty wants to KILL ME?!

54. Not spending more time with these losers

55. Not opening myself up to Husk sooner.

56. Being too much of a coward to tell him how I feel.

57. Mentioning Pent has two dicks to Cherri cause she won’t stop asking about it.

58. Not doing enough to save Pentious.

59. Not telling him how much he means to me.

60. Trying to lift way more than I should have. Apparently six arms doesn’t mean I’m super strong.

61. Calling Niss a short motherfucker who nobody likes. I’m sorry, I’ll be better (and call him something even worse next time.)

62. Still being too much of a coward to tell Husk how I feel.

63. Flirting with Husk in Italian when he UNDERSTOOD ME THIS WHOLE DAMN TIME?!

64. Getting a room on the same side of the building as Alastor’s because he keeps laughing at 3 in the morning???

65. Kissing Husk in public. Val is mad.

66. Trying to even have a boyfriend with Val around. It’s stupid.

67. Calling yourself stupid for wanting to have a boyfriend.

68. Giving my boyfriend access to this list.

69. No regrets. Only 69. :D (Jesus Christ you’re a child.)

[heartkaji]

[ ★ ⸻ @seumyo ]

selfship event

★ OVERVIEW

EUMY MY SWEET GIRL HI !! looked at my inbox and smiled,, im so happy to write this angel 💓ANYWAY, you and katsuki are the nice gf x nonchalant bf ! you’re the class sweetheart and katsuki is your mean bf & everyone wonders how you two are in a relationship with each other. before i dive into the questions, i want to elaborate on your dynamic a bit : as i said, you’re the class sweetheart. i think you’re the type who can come off as a people pleaser to some but god knows you just have everyone’s best interest at heart. you’re the type who gets uncomfortable when you realize someone dislikes you, often wondering why or what you’ve done to upset them. bakugo’s the opposite though. this man is the original bad bitch, he doesn’t gaf who talks behind his back cuz a bitch knows better than to let him hear it (i hope we all got the reference here). you two are complete opposites in the social scene & i really think bakugo helps you in becoming more secure in yourself and learning to care less about what others think.

Q3– WHO FELL FIRST & WHO FELL HARDER ?

OKAY SO HERE’S WHAT I THINK : you didn’t like katsuki at first. you found him rude, arrogant, inconsiderate, selfish & an asshole in general. you hated how he spoke to your friends & everyone around him. a part of you admired his confidence though : he had the gall to take on things you couldn’t even dream of, and he always lived up to whatever he said he’d do. admiration bred respect. of course you never let him know that, you just admired him from a distance. i think that in your case you really did ‘fall’ in love. like there was just one moment were all of a sudden bakugo wasn’t that bad after all. i don’t mean to make you look like some shoujo protagonist but this man saved your ass. see, you didn’t go unnoticed by katsuki. while he thought of you as some annoying extra, you had your merits. he perceived you as some sort of people pleaser so it low key put him off, but he did admire the lengths you’d go to for others. well not admire, but he thought it was respectable how you put your friends first & foremost, even though that’s not something he agrees with. anywho, because of your personality people often try to take advantage of you. you’re usually good at standing your ground, but when the perpetrator is someone who’s actually close to you it becomes difficult to do. when a friend of yours was trying to push all the work for a project unto you, you refused but they resorted to shaming & guilting you. bakugo who was nearby got sick of your classmate’s bitching. “she said she doesn’t wanna do it, fucktard. do your shit yourself.” he said it with his usual aggressive tone before walking away. that did the trick and scared them off, but it left you stunned : who knew katsuki could feel empathy & defend you ? with blushing cheeks, you realized you didn’t quite hate katsuki anymore <3

sorry eummz but you fell harder as well. i don’t think this is too surprising; bakugo is far from the type to give his heart out. even in marriage, i don’t see his pro hero self being a lover boy or simp (but he’s definitely much more mature & loving). i feel like in your relationship with katsuki, you overcompensated a lot. i could see you as someone who might do more chasing than attracting in a relationship, always overthinking texts, waiting for him to call, starting convos, etc. i dont blame you, especially in katsuki’s case. when you’re dating him it’s like damn, if you don’t make the effort who will ? you become slightly obsessive (not at all in a creepy way), thinking about him nearly every time of day. i basically think you have a more anxious attachment style and katsuki triggers that a lot. i’d say if you ever meet a real life katsuki, you should work on that before you consider a relationship (don’t worry my love i’d never trigger you. we could always date instead 💘)

Q5– WHAT DO OTHERS THINK OF UR RELATIONSHIP ?

NOBODY and i mean NOBODY understands how you two got together 😭 the bakusquad (do we still call them that in 2024 ??) tease you about it all the time. kiri’s always going on about how he could treat you better while mina wonders if you secretly do drugs 🧍‍♂️ sero wonders how katsuki got a girl before he did, and kaminari always asks you for any gossip going on in your relationship (nosy ass smh). dating bakugo is one of the best things that ever happened to you because you got to become closer with his friends ; the squad all love you to death <3 between you and me, mina would 100% side with you and stop talking to bakugo if you ever broke up. honestly she doesn’t play about you. everyday she’s reminding katsuki that if he breaks your heart she’ll break his bones (empty threat but it’s the thought that counts !). kiri is also the absolute sweetest :(( he calls you his sister in law & is basically your provisional boyfriend when bakugo isn’t around. one time he caught you crying over a test & he kissed your forehead & hugged you, telling you it’s alright <3 he got a good ass whooping from bakugo but hey, what can you do ?

Q6– WHY/HOW DID YOU BREAK UP ?

dependency & clashing attachment styles. bakugo leans closer to an avoidant while you’re more anxious. i feel like you’re not exactly ‘all over him’ as a girlfriend. you know it would make him uncomfortable so you give him his fair share of space. but said space kills you. whenever you’re going through those periods were katsuki withdraws, you know pestering him to talk and communicate only worsens things so you let him pull away but boy does it drive you crazy. you can’t help but wonder what he’s doing, if he’s thinking about you, etc. you used to vent to mina, but she’s a man hater & the only advice she knows how to give is that you two should break up ☠️ eventually you had enough and decided to communicate (uh oh!). it ended pretty badly, with katsuki calling you a distraction; saying you were too needy & clingy and other stuff that made you feel absolutely terrible. you cried yourself to sleep each night & locked yourself up in your dorm. mina & kiri came to check up on you nearly everyday, while sero & kaminari frequently called to check on you. sero would often face time you while doing stupid shit so you could smile btw <3 either way you weren’t the same for weeks, and you honestly questioned ever finding love again.

Q16– HOW WAS YOUR FIRST KISS LIKE ?

as i said before this man is the original bad bitch 🤦‍♀️ atp he probably watches thewizardliz or sheera seven because why was he trying so hard to be the high value woman in the relationship 😭 this man did not let you touch, kiss, hold or hug him until a good ELEVEN MONTHS. it was exact too so you almost thought he planned it. anyway, this was how it began: sero was throwing a housewarming party (literally for his parents own house, WITHOUT their permission 🤦‍♀️) and ofc you were invited. somehow tape face got a hold of some alcohol & so they were passed around at the party. i say party but keep in mind it was just a small get together of the baku squad + you. anyway, you’d never drank alcohol before; you’d always been a goodie two shoes but sero pushed you to try some : “come on eumy gummy, try something new for once !” a part of you wanted to loosen up & fit in, so after initially refusing you caved. sero’s drinks were sweet as hell, they weren’t weird tasting like you’d heard most people complain about alcohol so you downed them like apple juice. katsuki called you out on your drinking, but after a pout of your lips & a stubborn whine he eventually let you do what you wanted. you kissed his cheek with wine soaked lips & continued to chug as mina & the boys hyped you up. they should not have hyped you up. five glasses in & now you were a stumbling, groaning mess, leaning on kiri for support & hardly able to stand.

katsuki decided enough was enough. you couldn’t walk, so he had to carry you on his back. it was nearly 3am, so he wasn’t too worried about getting caught sneaking back to the dorms. the entire way back you’re a babbling mess, squishing his cheeks with a clumsy grin on your face as you coughed over your own words every now & then. in the elevator, you suddenly began banging on his back : “put me down, katsuki ! i can walk myself !” he insisted you couldn’t, but like the stubborn girl you are you wouldn’t let him rest till he let you go. he guided you off his back & you stumbled against his chest immediately. with rolling eyes & a muttered “told you so,” he placed his palms on your hips & held you against his chest. the contact made you break into a silly grin & you roped your arms around his neck. katsuki raised a brow but you were too drunk to notice. gently & lazily you began to press sloppy kisses to his cheek & i wanna say bakugo pushed you away BUT HE DID NOT !! he simply sighed as you dragged your lips against his face, mouth sticky with strawberry chambourd & the scent of french liqueur. WARNING ! what happens next will shock you : bakugo puckered his lips, not moving an inch forward, but you’re quick to oblige : you press your wine drenched lips to his chapped ones & he pulls away immediately. it’s a sweet, sticky, impulsive peck at best, but it leaves you all giddy & giggling. the elevator dings & bakugo leads you out, your hand in his palm as he tugs you forward without glancing back <3

# KATSUEUMY CORE !

>> 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 <<

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[linaliteracy]

Will it Pass? Pt. 2

Pairing: Bangchan x afab!reader.

Summary: You love Chan, how could you not? He is your best friend. Your problem? You love him too much and cannot stand him near you or your heart will break.

college!au, angsty, friends to lovers.

Note: English is not my first language. Leave me suggestion or comments on the ask box! 🩷

Part 1 here!

Bangchan's POV

It has been two weeks since I last saw Y/n. Two weeks that I never thought... I would never have thought that I would have to go more than two weeks without talking to her. I felt guilty, lonely, scared and like an asshole.

When she confessed, the first thing I did was to break any thing I had with other people. It was just a girl, but I politely told her I didn't wanna see her more, she took it nice, she juat blocked me everywhere and said i had a bigger ego than any body part. That wasn't a new insult, but it was funny, regardless.

I sat in the apartment, laying on my bed just quiet. Until Felix opened the door and got to the apartment.

"I AM HOME!" He screamed. "Chan, you here?"

"Over here" I said and Felix appeared.

"Sulking?" He chuckled and sat on my bed "Cheer up!"

"Did you see her today?" I asked, it was a rutine, I had not seen her since... the café, we had not crossed paths, i assume it was because everytime I saw her, her friends were shielding her and walking very fast. I couldn't blame her.

When will it pass?

That was such an asshole comment, and I still cannot believe it came out from my mouth.

"I did, she was... better" Felix confessed. "Look, why dont you talk to her?"

I sighed in defeat

"She wouldnt want to talk to me"

"I mean... you were kind of a dick... so, yeah I wouldn't want to talk to you, but maybe... just give her time."

I nod and contemplate my life. I felt guilty, so fucking guilty that I didnt return her feelings. I couldn't do it, because I... am just not sure. I had never done that, the liking someone, always was something quick and off, but with her. She wasn't that, she was all.

I knew eventually she would have someone, find someone, but I never though how it affected her seeing me with hook ups, or knowing that I was hooking up, I mean, I wouldn't tolerate it. Why did she put up with it for so long?

"She was so... why didn't she ever told me to stop?"

"Stop what?" Felix inquiered.

"To stop hooking up.

Felix looked at him.

"She couldn't do that, she doesn't have the heart for that... she... look, im gonna say this to add drama, because I like it, and maybe it helps you wake up, but... she never complained. With the guys... we really admired her.

"The guys knew?"

"Everyone knew that you liked eachother! Wait- you know you like her, right? Is not like we need to open your eyes?

"I... i know... is just... I dont know what is like, like, to like someone... I have never... had those feelings..."

Felix sighs.

"Look... i would tell you to go tell her but... I don't know how she is... I mean I do, but... I don't know how it will make her feel..."

"Do you think I am bad for her?"

"Chris. What the hell? No!"

"Then what should I do?"

I felt conflicted I had never done this, never liked someone with so much that they felt... homy. I always knew I liked her but I never knew she liked me. Hell, how could I not like her? She is funny, kind, beautiful, she is all... why didnt I realize sooner?

But I had never done things right, and I was so fucking scared of trying and fucking it up, with her.

"I will give her time" I said outloud. "As much as she needs, but I want her to tell me how much time I have to wait"

I grabbed my phone and went directly to her dorms. I needed to sort this out.

[juyeonszn]

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER (PT. 2)

PAIRING kevin moon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.60k

GENRES angst ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader is better than me cause i would not let kevin do all the shit he’s done 😭, ANYWAY i digress, this part is very reader-centric — whereas part one is very kevin-centric, inner turmoil goes absolutely crazy, most of this fic is reader putting kevin in his place and him realizing how big of an asshole he truly is, mentions of injury (past tense), mentions of insecurity, lots of arguing, reader cries at one point or another, the smut places a very minimal role in this, but unprotected sex, public sex (the auditorium dressing room), no foreplay but wtv we fall like soldiers in battle, pussy job lowkey (high key…), creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY it wasn’t like you and kevin hated each other. in fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

MORE oh my god. it’s finally fucking here. A MONTH, 2 SICKNESSES AND MANY MANY STRESSFUL NIGHTS LATER— part two of princess and the pauper is here!!! i’m so sorry to those of u who have been itching and waiting on me to get ‘er done,,, it’s been an ordeal to say the least, and while it’s nearing the two month mark since the black out or back out collab was announced, SHE FINALLY FINISHED!!! for once i saw something through omg i can sleep peacefully and work on my other wips without guilt now… 😭 ALSO THANK U SO MUCH MAYA @/kimsohn FOR PUSHING ME THROUGH THIS and for making me thug it out bc without u it definitely would’ve taken much longer to finish 💔 please dont forget to read part one and the other fics in the series if u haven’t!! both are linked below! and as always, pls reblog if u enjoyed &lt;3

PART ONE | SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

TAGLIST @millksea @deobibbang @deobi0412

Never in your life have you felt so… Confused.

It wasn’t just confusion that settled deep in the pit of your stomach. There was a sharp pain there too, like someone stabbed you and twisted the knife. That was probably the best way to describe what you were feeling. You were bleeding out, and no one was coming to save you.

Kevin wasn’t answering your calls. He wasn’t answering your texts. He ran out of the lecture hall as soon as class was over, never giving you a moment to speak to him. It was making you nervous.

You still had half of a dance to choreograph and a fuck ton of pressure riding on your back. After the last performance you and him did together, you’d have a lot of eyes on you. It most definitely wasn’t your fault that he dropped you. How many people willingly want to acquire a broken ankle? The crutches were a bitch to maneuver around with. But like every single thing that’s happened in the three years you’ve known Kevin Moon, he’s managed to place the blame on you like it was.

It was crucial that you make amends with him even if it was momentarily. Your final grades were dependent on your performance. If he couldn’t get his shit together for at least that, he was a lost cause in your mind. Not even your professor would be able to refute that fact. Actually, nobody would be able to refute that fact.

Your lips form an O as you blow the steam away from your coffee, pulling out your phone to try Kevin’s phone once again. The line rings a few times before going straight to voicemail like it has the past couple weeks. You kiss your teeth, tying your sweater around your waist as you slump in your chair. The baristas at the campus cafe were probably sick of seeing you sitting in the same high-top counter spot since the incident with Kevin in the studio.

“Y/N?”

Ji Changmin appears beside you and you click your phone off, so he wouldn’t see his friend’s contact on the screen. You give the Early Childhood Dev major a weak smile.

“Changmin! What’s up? How are you and your girlfriend?” You hope he can’t recognize the distress written all over your features. You highly doubt it, though. You can feel the wrinkles pulling at your skin.

“We’re good! How’s the showcase performance going with Kev?” He asks like he knows something you don’t. When your lips fall to a thin line, an all too familiar grimace, he sighs a knowing sigh. “Do I have to smack some sense into him?”

“Not gonna lie, yeah, you do. He’s being really fucking difficult and like half of our dance is unfinished. I can’t even get a hold of him, so I’m starting to lose my patience.” You express your annoyance. The border between complacency and free-will was a lot slimmer than one might think. For example; your feelings when it comes to Kevin Moon.

You don’t expect to get a returning call later that night when you’re washing dishes after dinner.

In fact, you don’t even hear it at first, too absorbed in scrubbing the staining out of your bowl. It’s when your roommate yells out to you, that you snap out of your reverie, albeit dazedly. You dry your hands on a nearby tea towel, hitting the green answer button without a second glance at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Your heart catches in your throat. You recognize the owner of the voice practically by the first breath into the receiver alone. It’s actually kind of unhealthy how quickly it took to realize who was on the other end. You swallow heavily, praying he doesn’t hear the gulp.

“In the latter part of the afternoon, I believe. Why?” You try not to sound hopeful. That’s one thing you’ve learned being in the same vicinity as Kevin Moon. You could never be too expecting, because it would only lead to disappointment. And you’d dealt with enough of that the past few years.

“We need to finish this fuck ass choreography,” he grunts, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue. “I’ll meet you in the same studio at 4.”

He doesn’t let you get anything else in, hanging up swiftly. You deflate as you set your phone back on the counter. All you had to do was push through these next couple weeks, like you always have when it came to him.

That should be a piece of cake, right?

Wrong.

“No, that looks stupid.”

You grit your teeth, swiping the back of your hand on your forehead. You’d been inside of this studio maybe 30 minutes tops, and you were on the verge of strangling Kevin. With as long as you’d been putting up with his shit, you thought getting through this wouldn’t be as rough as it’s been. But if there was one thing Kevin Moon had, it was pride.

“We don’t have time for you to nitpick right now. Let’s just finish the choreography and clean it after.” Your hands rest on your hips, nostrils flaring.

“If we clean as we go, we’ll have more time to drill it into our systems and get down muscle memory. It’ll be a stronger performance.” He argues. You roll your eyes as you turn away from him, taking a water break to calm yourself. “Why do you have so much fucking attitude today? You were the one preaching to the choir about me making things difficult. It seems the tables have turned.”

Usually, you were pretty good at keeping your frustration at bay when it came to Kevin’s remarks. You liked to think it was because you were down bad for the guy, despite him always wanting nothing to do with you. But as of late, (Read: Since your performance of Princess and the Pauper) every little comment he’s made has managed to crawl under your skin like a damn parasite. You were beginning to get real sick of it.

“God, you’re so—“ You interrupt yourself to groan, fingers curling into fists. “You’re fucking insufferable. Do you know that? I’ve been bending over backwards to ensure we aren’t kicked out of the goddamn program and you don’t even fucking care. Over what? A kiss that you initiated?”

Kevin is stunned into silence, not at all prepared for you to blow up on him like that. After all, that razor thin line between complacency and free-will had yet to be crossed. And well, it appears that you just crossed it. You whip around toward him, pulling down the collar of your t-shirt to reveal the faintest of bruises that still remains from your impromptu act of intimacy.

“I’ve had to look at this every day for a week and all it’s done is make me feel shitty, ashamed of something I didn’t even start. Now I need you to stop acting like an ass and get it together so we can finish this and perform the best dance this university has ever seen.” Your chest is heaving up and down, similarly to when you made out against the mirrors last week. Except this time isn’t out of breathlessness, but rather anger and exhaustion.

Kevin’s eyes don’t leave the hickey on the base of your throat, something undetectable swimming in them as he stares. You can’t read the emotions swirling rampantly in his irises, a mixture of too many blurring into one another. Honestly, it’s funny. It’s funny that it’s taken you this long to get him to shut his mouth for once.

So you laugh.

It’s a snort at first, an off handed projection of how comical the situation has become to you. But then it metamorphoses into a small giggle, which leads to full scale laughter that has you hunching over your knees and wiping away tears. This whole thing is stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid.

“What are you laughing at?” His eyebrow raises in question, broken from his weird trance.

“I just can’t believe it took three years for me to shut you up,” you shake your head slowly, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm. “You’re always the one who can’t stop talking.”

Kevin deadpans, mouth pulled pin-straight as his expression drops. “You’re so unserious.”

As the height of your laughter reaches a valley, you collapse onto the ground, resting your back against the mirror. You take another long sip of water before sighing. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. Trust me, I know. But, we’ve gotta set aside our differences just this once. Please, for the sake of the department.”

“Fine,” he murmurs, plopping down beside you to stretch his back. “Let’s finish choreographing so we can start cleaning it up.”

It’s a victory in your book, and probably the most obedient the Pisces has ever been. Maybe this wouldn’t end in complete disaster like you assumed it would. It turns out Kevin Moon wasn’t entirely brainless and knew when he was wrong. Sometimes. Maybe. We’ll see.

You shut your eyes and visualize what you’ve choreographed so far, going over the moves in your head to see if the rest will come to you like a prophecy. It’s wishful thinking, but with how much you’ve accomplished since setting foot in the studio, you’re willing to try anything. The track would be nice for elements of hip hop style choreography, but you knew the audience wouldn’t eat it up as much as they would the route you’re currently taking.

Driver roll up the partition, please…

The song plays through the speakers and you watch as Kevin stands to run through everything you have. You’re entranced by his movements, the flow of his body on certain points. It’ll look ten times better once you’re doing it with him, costumed and performing it perfectly in front of a crowd. You can picture it now, the gentle but controlled glide of his hands along your arms when Beyoncé sings “We ain’t even gonna make it to this club”. He was right. You very well might be seduced by your enemy.

“Should we use props?” You suddenly voice, eyes narrowed in thought. He hums.

“That’s… not a half-bad idea, actually,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “What did you have in mind?”

“A chair, maybe,” you look away from him, placing your focus on the way your toes alternate between a tendu and relaxed position. “That could take up a good chunk of the choreo.”

Kevin stalks over to the supply closet in the corner of the studio, pulling out a folding chair. He puts it in the center of the room gently, careful to not scratch up the wooden, lacquered flooring. You spend the next couple of hours brainstorming through numerous versions of the dance. While it was a lot easier than your past practices, there were still the occasional argument over which movements looked good and whatnot.

At a certain point, everything becomes cohesive and the end is near. You gulp down some water as Kevin does some random choreography. It’s then that it comes to you, like a vision from That’s So Raven. You practically drop your water bottle, scrambling to your feet and stopping him. Your breath is heavy from fatigue and you’re slightly afraid of even suggesting this, but it’s exactly what this dance needs. It’s exactly what everyone wants to see from the two of you.

He pauses the music and gestures for you to get on with it. You push down the lump in your throat, scared of rejection. But maybe he was smart and he would agree that this is what you have to do. “What if we did a lift?”

You see the hesitation swirling in his eyes and you raise a finger before he can shut you down entirely. “Nothing crazy like… um— you know— Princess and the Pauper, but something smaller. Something… sexy? Like, Dancing with the Stars type beat.”

When he shrugs instead of outright dismissing your idea, you know you’ve won. He nods slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Okay, sure. But we better clean up everything else fast so we can perfect the lift.”

The two of you take another three hours running the entirety of the choreography, ingraining the moves into your brains and muscles. You still had a bit until the actual showcase, but your priority now lies with the lift. If you nailed it, the entire department would very well grovel after you in reparation for all of the slack you got after Kevin dropped you. Hell, the entire university would kiss your feet. This was your redemption. In more ways than one.

You both decide to call it a day at around 9:30 PM. Your hands reach for your belongings and then you halt yourself, a thought coming to mind. While you had him in this weird state of obedience, you figured it was as good a time as any to ask the question that’s been weighing on you for the past few years. Your fingers swipe away the sweat beading around your hairline.

”Kevin,” you start, voice a lot softer than before. “Why do you— what did I do to make you dislike me so much?”

He’s caught completely off guard, eyes widening in surprise. If he was anticipating you to say anything else prior to parting ways tonight, he didn’t think this would be it. He’s actually a little off put that you hadn’t asked him this already in the span of your definitely-one-sided rivalry. He takes a large gulp of water.

”I’d call it indifference, not dislike,” he corrects after a pregnant silence. “It’s really fucking stupid thinking about it in hindsight. I don’t know if you remember this time, way back in our first year, we ran into each other at the campus cafe— literally, might I add— and you spilled your coffee all over this white shirt of mine that Changmin had gotten for me as a birthday gift. I only recently found out that it wasn’t as expensive as he made it out to be.”

You blink at his admission, processing his words as thoroughly as possible. You don’t know what you wanted him to say. You weren’t even sure if there was a concrete reason for him to be so fucking mean to you all this time. And now that you know, you come to the conclusion that Kevin Moon isn’t as smart as you’ve painted him out to be in your head. He’s actually a gigantic idiot. Because who in their right mind goes through these lengths to form a distance between the only other person on par with their talent?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re bursting into another fit of laughter. Kevin falters at your reaction. He was waiting for you to blow up on him, to scream in his face for causing you so much pain and unnecessary drama over something so silly. So when you do none of that, when you start fucking laughing like a damn hyena, he feels dumb. Like his entire college career has been built off of nothing.

”This is so—“ you pause to gather your bearings, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “We’ve spent so much time going back and forth over some spilled coffee? Surely you’ve realized how insane that is at some point.”

”It took a lengthy argument with Changmin, but yeah, I did,” he nods, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, finally getting your things together. The two of you bid each other an awkward goodbye. Neither of you knew what to make of your relationship now that things had been partially sorted through. There was a fuck ton of baggage that still had to be sifted, but at least you had an answer.

That was enough to push through this showcase performance. You think.

You’re nervous.

Never in your entire life have you ever been this nervous for a performance.

You grew up doing musical theatre and dancing, it’s always been the one constant presence you could rely on. But standing here, backstage at the showcase, you think you’re going to throw up. Your palms are clamming up uncontrollably and your chest feels unbearably heavy as you watch the quartet doing a contemporary piece to some ballad you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. There were still a couple groups before you.

Not even when you had to perform fuckass Princess and the Pauper were you this anxious. You wince, trying to stop the incessant bouncing of your leg. Your weight keeps shifting from one hip to the other. As a seasoned veteran, you don’t know why you feel this way. Maybe it had to do with all the pressure riding on this very dance. Every single eye in that crowd was going to scrutinize your every move on that stage.

“Calm down,” a voice whispers harshly from beside you. “You’re making me nervous.”

Kevin wraps his fingers around your wrist, stopping the annoying tap-tap-tap your own were doing against your thigh. He gives you a look, and you sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

That’s a lie. Not only was the high expectations from the entire school getting to you, but so was the fear of history repeating itself. He knows this, it was inevitable. After what happened the last time he was tasked with lifting you, it was only natural.

”We’ve drilled this dance hundreds, if not thousands, of times, Y/N. We’ll do just fine.” Kevin assures you.

His hand feels foreign holding yours, like it was illegal for his skin to be touching your own. You feel your lower lip quiver, a sense of trepidation that you’ve never once felt creeping down your spine. Your mind was spiraling, and quite honestly, Kevin being so close was making it worse. All you could think about was him dropping you again, leaving you in the middle of the stage with a broken leg and a broken heart. You release a shaky breath and he turns to face you.

Your eyes widen and he searches your face for any disingenuity. When he finds his answer, he brings the hand that was holding yours up to cup your cheek. He’s cautious, afraid he might break you like he always does. He waits for you to shove him away and to yell at him for being a fucking coward.

You don’t. You stay still, hoping he follows through with what you think he’s about to do. And then he does.

It’s such a featherlight peck of his lips on your own, you almost don’t even register. But sparks shoot from the source all the way to the tips of your fingers. You feel as if you were dealt a static shock of electricity, your whole body buzzing from the small kiss alone.

He pulls away just in time for the stage manager to inform you that you’re next. Kevin rolls his neck jogging over to the wings to patiently await your performance like he hadn’t just kissed you a moment ago. You blink dumbly, two fingers coming up to touch where his lips had been. Sure the nerves were gone now, but the sensation of butterflies swarming about in your stomach easily replaced that. What the fuck was his problem?

“Our last performance is one I’m sure all of you have been waiting for. Kevin Moon and Y/N L/N with Partition!”

Before you know it, you and Kevin are in position, your body squared upstage and his to the crowd. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist and his steady breathing on your nose. The spotlight switches on, the heat of the lighting warm against the side of your face. It’s silent in the auditorium, but it rings in your ears. You could do this.

Let me hear you say ‘Hey Miss Carter’…

You move on reflex, muscle memory kicking in instantaneously. Each circle of your hips, every turn you make— a fouetté here, a pirouette there, a couple coupes, each roll of your body. But what really gets you is the long brushes of Kevin’s skin on your own. You’d practiced with distance between the two of you. There was a tension that had been there for years. Now it’s all coming to a rolling boil, a new uncharted tension that every single member in that audience could see.

And then comes the lift.

You, along with everybody in the auditorium, practically hold your breath when Kevin’s hands grip your hips. He raises you above him with all of his strength, completely focused on you and only you. You shut your eyes and feel the moment, like, really feel it. Your body is relaxed, the Dirty Dancing-esque lift bringing the whole performance together just like you knew it would. The only difference from the movie and real life is the fact that you’re flipped, your backside to Kevin and your chest to the ceiling.

Your eyes flutter open, the spotlight all but blinding you, and you finally feel content. Like everything has fallen into the right place for once in your life. Especially so when Kevin sets you down gently and you finish your dance with the utmost confidence.

The crowd erupts into a roaring chorus of applause, going as far as giving you a standing ovation. Holy shit. You pulled it off. You actually managed to pull it off.

Your face feels like it might split from how big your smile is. You and Kevin bow, walking off stage. You’re entirely too happy right now, a newfound energy overtaking you as you trail behind him.

“We did it!” You cheer as you follow him towards the dressing room where your things are. You’re the only ones left backstage, everyone else filtering out between performances. Kevin doesn’t give you much of a response, just a small nod of acknowledgment. Your smile falters. “What the hell is your problem?”

”Nothing, Y/N, fuck. Can you just mind your own fucking business?” He snaps, turning around to glare at you just as the door slams behind you. You instinctively flinch at both loud noises. His features soften but you take a step back from him.

You aren’t sure why you’re surprised. This isn’t anything new. Kevin has always made it crystal clear that he wasn’t your number one fan. Being neutral for your performance wasn’t enough to repair all the holes in whatever your relationship was, and you should’ve known better. You shouldn’t have let your guard down so easily. You should’ve expected this. Old dogs can never learn new tricks.

But Kevin’s scared. He’s afraid of letting you in after all the mess he’s put you through. The only thing he’s good at doing is hurting you, over and over like there was a prize that came out of it.

”Look…”

”No, you listen to me,” you swallow heavily, tears already tight lining your eyes. “Kevin, I have taken so much shit from you. Over these past few years I have just sat there and let you unload all your fucked up insecurities onto me. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever thought to stop and think about why I let you be so mean to me without even questioning it?”

He says nothing, just stares with his lips parted. They open and close like a fish out of water, words there at the tip of his tongue but refusing to make their escape. And then one of your tears rolls down your cheeks and he’s directly in front you, his heart on his sleeve for the first time since you’ve met him.

”Why?” The simple question is so quiet, you almost don’t hear him. But his eyes hold so much hurt, so much anguish that you’ve never seen in a person before.

“I’ve had feelings for you for so long, it’s actually starting to ache. You’ve only ever seen me as this thing, this obstacle. And I’m afraid that that’s all I’ll ever be to you, because you won’t let me be anything else. You won’t—“

”That’s not true, Y/N,” Kevin sighs, looking off to the side, away from you. “I just— it’s complicated. It’s more than just being rivals.”

”So help me understand,” you frown. “Let me in, please.”

”My entire life I’ve had to work to get to where I am. I’ve fought tooth and nail to be as good of a performer as I am today. There were so many hoops I had to go through to even get into this program and— and I thought I’d finally become the best I could be. I thought that there was no way anyone could ever be better than me. And then you showed up. You and your pretty smile and your natural ability to be the best at everything you do. It was like you were the real life manifestation of all of my critics, of every challenge I faced to get here. Where I had to practice day and night to perfect something, it just came to you like second nature. During Princess and the Pauper, when I dropped you, it truly was an accident. But we’d spent so much time nailing it, that it— I just made myself feel better by saying it was your fault. ‘How could it have been my fault if I perfected it?’ I was jealous and petty and it was just easier to blame hating— to blame my indifference on you spilling coffee on my stupid shirt. For that, I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what you were waiting to hear, but it wasn’t that. Your tears turn into full on blubbering, because what the fuck? That’s so much burden for someone to carry on their shoulders for three years.

“Why are you— why are you crying?” He flounders, reaching up to swipe away your tears.

“I wish I knew… I wish I could’ve helped you somehow,” you sniffle. “Kev, I’ve always admired you and your work ethic. I hoped one day I’d be half as disciplined as you, half as determined.”

He blinks. You’re both dumb, aren’t you? Too focused on the wrong things. You both could’ve been a lot less hateful, a lot less miserable, had you just spoken your differences out. This entire rivalry has been completely one sided, but also built off of plain stupidity and ignorance. He supposes it’s not too late to make amends if you aren’t running in the opposite direction despite everything he’s put you through.

Kevin leans forward, hand still pressed to your cheek, and connects your lips softly. He’s testing the waters, making sure you’re comfortable before he continues anything. When you don’t back away just yet, he adds more force, deepening the kiss like a man starved. You whine against his lips.

This is what you’ve been wanting from him. More than what he gave you before your performance, but not what happened in the studio a few weeks ago. This desperation isn’t abashed lust, it’s unbridled affection— it’s everything he’s holed inside of himself for years, unwilling to let it see the light of day until now. If you were to label anything as perfection, it wouldn’t be a dance or a moment on stage, it would be this. Just you and Kevin finally bringing yourselves together in the most intimately emotional union.

He pulls you closer to him, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist, bunching up the thin fabric of your leotard. You can’t help but bury your fingers in his hair, tugging when he nips at your lower lip. A gasp permeates the air when his mouth travels south, along your jaw and down the side of your neck. He bites and sucks the tender skin at the base of your throat, ensuring he leaves his mark on you. This time isn’t careless, this time he has purpose. He wants everybody to know that you’re his, that you’re the only person insane enough to put up with him.

Your breathing is shaky when you reach behind you to lock the dressing room, dragging him over to the long vanity adjacent to you. He slots between your legs when you hoist yourself onto the surface. He pecks your lips and pauses his movements, rubbing up and down your thighs. In the dim, yellow lighting of the room, you look so gorgeous. He’s always thought you were beautiful, the most stunning thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, but he’s repressed it for so long. He wants to take his time staring at what he’s avoided.

”You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, kissing you again and again and again. “I don’t think I can last long with you.”

“Can we skip the foreplay?” You ask, bottom lip jutted into a pout. “Need you to just fuck me like you mean it.”

Kevin’s forehead falls to your shoulder with a groan. “I don’t deserve you,” God, he’s such an idiot for holding out from this. You should’ve been given the world and so much more. He has a lot of lost time to make up for. He kisses your shoulder with a sigh. “Yeah, baby, I can do that.”

You don’t waste another second, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your leotard. He has to bite down on his tongue when he sees that you’re braless, fingers going slack as they unbutton the rest of his silk shirt. You shimmy out of the one piece, left in nothing but the fishnet stockings you wore underneath and your lacy panties. Kevin thinks he must’ve done at least something right in a past life to experience this.

Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him, undoing his slacks and kicking them down his legs with your feet. Something takes over him when he rips a bigger hole in your stockings, pushing your underwear to the side. His thumb glides through your folds with ease, your slick providing enough lubricant. He pushes your lower lips apart while you busy yourself shoving his underwear to his ankles.

His cock slips inside of you with less friction than he would’ve thought, but he doesn’t complain, screwing his eyes shut as he acclimates to the feeling of your walls surrounding him. You moan, such a soft sound that he nearly loses his balance.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, digging his fingers into your hips as he rocks his own. “You’re so so perfect.”

The praise is too much for you, given the circumstances. Your brain is already cloudy, stuffed with what could only be described as cotton. You watch with half lidded eyes as he begins to piston into you at a faster speed. This all feels like a fever dream, something that was only possible in your craziest fantasies. Even then, it seemed unlikely.

“‘M close, Kev,” you whine, unable to stay still and attempting to match his thrusts.

“Already? We’ve only just started, gorgeous.” He laughs, but it’s breathy, strained from the exertion of his body. You hardly have the strength in you to be embarrassed about it, especially since he’s seen you in much worse situations.

You nod frantically, snaking a hand between you to circle your clit with nimble fingers. Kevin halts you and pulls out momentarily, sliding his cock between your folds like it was your hand. The tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you dizzier than you already were.

He presses back into you with ease, resuming his sloppy but animalistic pace. He uses his thumb to continue your handywork, your cunt fluttering around him needily. You’re both losing your sanity quickly, both going batshit insane over the bare minimum. You’ve just needed this for so long, yearned for this moment for a humiliating amount of time.

Your moans start to rise in pitch and he groans. “Fuck, baby, you can cum for me.”

He could cry, he thinks, when your back arches and your legs shake with your orgasm. It hits you like a freight train, triggering his own release just as fast.

You stay like that for a bit, regaining yourselves and comprehending everything that’s just happened. So much for the whole hating each other narrative.

“What does this mean for us?” You suddenly ask, arms hooked around Kevin’s neck. You’re still connected by your lower halves, but he makes no effort to pull away. Part of you likes it that way, it gives you hope that this isn’t a one time affair.

“It’ll be hard for things to change overnight,” he says, massaging your sides. “We have a lot of unresolved issues and insecurities that we still have to push past. But I’m willing to do that with you. I want to take a chance on us.”

Your lips pull into a smile, an expression you don’t think you’ve worn around him genuinely in the years you’ve known him. “I do, too.”

“It’s kind of ironic that it was a performance that tore us apart and brought us back together, don’t you think?” He laughs.

“And we fucked in the dressing room…” You add, glancing to the top corner where a security camera is stationed.

“Maybe we should get out of here before someone checks the footage,” he suggests. “Tau Beta Zeta is conveniently hosting our end of semester party tonight, do you wanna be my plus one?”

“I would be honored.” You grin, pecking his lips tenderly.

Perhaps happy endings existed after all.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[ellitx]

elli...!! i dont know if someone has already done this so feel free to ignore but... what if...

venti is a sex worker and he was hired by y/n. usually his customers would be more experienced, and would lean more on doing rougher stuff, so he was surprised when he met y/n in her house, being inexperienced and kind of shy, asking for just a kiss. her reason being, she never had a boyfriend before and her peers are teasing her for being a virgin and not getting her first kiss yet... so she hired venti for.. experience and practice¿ >/////< then of course things will escalate from there since venti gets attracted to her, so he'll seduce her into giving in to him... hehe... then maybe after that they'll meet more and get to know each other better o/////o

masterlist

fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

It was unexpected.

Really. What are the chances that the sex worker you hired would be someone you know? Especially if it’s a close friend of yours. Sure, Venti throws dirty jokes here and there for fun, but to discover this was his actual job?

You’re not one to judge but it was really unexpected. Never in your life would you ever possibly think he would be your practice partner in experiencing sexual intercourse when you’re a beginner yourself. And you can’t really blame the company when practically Venti was assigned to fulfill your commission.

You sat at the edge of your bed idly, hands over your knees clenched into a fist as you tried your best to quiet your heavy anxious breaths. You really hope you’re not breathing too loudly lest it’ll make more things awkward with him.

You could feel he was gazing at you occasionally but averted when you caught him. How long has it been since you’ve invited him to your room? 5 minutes? Or more than that? Honestly, you don’t know when all your head was fussing about was how to handle this awkward tension.

It’s not like Venti hadn’t been here. He only visited once and that’s it. You pretty much bond outdoors more than indoors. Ah, if only you could talk to him casually like an afternoon Tuesday and it’ll be an easy breeze.

But that’s easier said than done.

You shifted, fiddling with your hands, trying to find the right words for a starting conversation. But Venti was quick to start before you could even open your lips.

“Hey, we don’t need to do it if you don’t want to alright? We prioritize your comfort over the actual thing.”

Oh no.

This doesn’t sound good at all. Does he want to stop it because he doesn’t want to disappoint you or himself?

Your voice came out so nervously.

“I-I don’t mind at all, please don’t stop it because I also feel nervous. If anything…”

You paused, trying to pick up your nerve again. “If anything we should try our best to get through this!”

Wow…

You really made things more awkward than ever, huh?

‘Try our best to get through’? Really? Was that the best you could think of?

Archons, you just want to hide yourself, drown in the abyss of the sea, and never show your face to him ever again.

Your frenzied thoughts were interrupted by a small laughter. Venti was laughing but it was obvious he was holding back from bursting out out of courtesy.

“Haha! That’s so like you! I still can’t believe you’d be so interested in this kind of thing, [Name].”

Well, in the end, he did burst out into a hearty laugh after all. And he wasn’t holding back his tears either. Your face warmed up, the embarrassment becoming a shame, and the shame turned to a playful anger. You huffed, cheeks puffed out with your lips pursed.

“Yae keeps on teasing me how I’m still a virgin...” You mumbled under your breath.

Maybe you should be thanking him instead? Even though you’re mad at him for teasing you at least it eased the awkwardness, somewhat.

He gave you a soft look as he replied, “Are you sure you’re alright with this? With me being your partner?”

You quieted down as you gazed at him. His eyes were soft and comforting, as there was also a dash of reassurance. With Venti, someone who you know very well, being your partner to experience within the world of lust, it’s a safe choice.

You could even ask him questions if you have any concerns which makes contact much easier. You didn’t hesitate anymore as you smiled reassuringly at him.

A simple nod from you was enough to confirm and wash away his doubts and worries.

“Alright. Can you close your eyes?” He requested.

You nodded and waited patiently for his instruction. His finger traced along your brow, making you giggle lightly. His gentle touch left warmth running down your spine. No more than a later, something soft and warm made contact upon your cheeks.

You opened your eyes to see what was it that brushed onto you but Venti’s hand softly covered them, making your vision return to its dark state.

“Sorry, I wasn’t being clear.” His voice was now soft and breathy and you shivered from how his breath was fanning your cheeks. “You can open them once I tell you so. In the meantime, keep them close for me, okay?”

You gave a shy nod as you bit your lower lip. Not knowing what was happening made you so anxious, but with how gentle and caring he holds you against him felt so safe and reassuring.

It seems he understood your situation. So you decided to relax a little, closing your eyes and slowly exhaling while he moved his arms around you.

Soon after, he began to nuzzle at your ear, gently caressing the flesh of your neck with the tips of his fingers. The warmth from his hands slowly traveled towards your body, raising your body temperature up.

Then his fingers stopped over to your lips. He traced them slowly and lightly, caressing them as if memorizing every contour of your lips. A few moments passed by before his fingers touched your lower lip and you let out a gasp of pleasure. Then, the pad of his thumb slowly grazed your bottom lip, causing you to suckle on them unconsciously.

You heard a soft groan and your heart raced, your stomach tightening and your core beginning to become warm. You heard him faintly curse under his breath, and the creaking of the bed signified he was searching for a comfortable position.

Because a second later, one hand was on your hips holding you close to him while the other was parting your lips.

“Can I…?” He asked.

It was obvious what he was asking, and your heart beat faster and faster from his short yet heart-throbbing question. It was racing through the roof, chasing the highs of your adrenaline.

You nodded again. The urge to open your eyes was strong but you resisted, scolding yourself to follow Venti’s words.

It felt so sensual, the feel of his rough fingers pressed against your skin, almost tickling it. And that caused another gasp to come from you, however, something slightly warm and soft was pressing onto your pink lips.

Venti moved his head forward, softly kissing your lips, nibbling and sucking the soft flesh of your mouth. You were unsure on what to do and how to reciprocate the kiss. Should you lean? Tilt your head? Or open your lips a bit? You decided the latter option is the safest one.

Slowly parting them, you moaned when he gently bit on your lower lip. You clutched onto his shirt, your brows digging deeply into your temple as you calmed the heat running through you. The kiss felt so good that you almost forgot what you were supposed to be doing. When Venti broke the kiss you whined and you heard him chuckling. Even with your eyes closed, you can sense he had that teasing smile painting on his face.

"Venti?" You called when he didn't make any sounds or movements. The said male hummed then the bed shifted. Were you supposed to open your eyes now? But Venti hadn't given you any signals yet. You opted to keep them close and it was good that you did because your face was beet red as you fiddled with your fingers.

"Can we continue the kiss, please?" You asked in a small voice. Venti chuckled at your shy plea.

"Of course."

It didn't take any longer for him to return his lips to yours. You hummed lightly, relaxing against him. He hugged your waist, carefully holding you close. With his hand cupping your cheeks, you wonder if your shyness was being dissolved because of his comforting presence. 

The kisses were short and sweet and Venti would break away for a second and then return to you immediately. Perhaps so you can breathe effectively, but you paid no mind to it because you'd chase after him every time he parts.

This time it lasted longer. You were beginning to adjust to such intimacy that your breathing began to accelerate along with the increasing warmth and tingly sensation in your stomach. The flush in your cheeks deepened when you felt something prodding at your mouth's entrance. 

You fell onto your bed with a soft landing and Venti planted one hand beside your head while still cupping your cheek. He licked your lips, asking for permission, and when you granted him he wasted no time to taste you deeper into the sweet nectar. He tilted his head, kissing you again and again and again but with passion.

Softly moaning against him, you returned his kisses. You clutched, gripped, and held onto his shoulder as you fought back against the orgasmic pleasure. This has been going on for a while and yet, he hadn’t given up yet. You enjoyed each kiss and bite from his tongue and teeth, not stopping until he earned another moan from you.

He kissed you deeper, this time pushing his tongue into you and you gasped. Your legs squirmed, reaching out for something until they locked onto his hips. Venti grunted, one hand moving over to cover your eyes while the other kept your hips against the mattress as he lightly bucked his hips to yours.

Oh god…

For your first kiss, this man feels so good… You whimpered beneath him. A low sound escaped your lips. He chuckled. He doesn’t mind at all, does he?

“Cute,” He murmured, brushing some hair off your face and tilting his head up to look at you with lustful eyes. You blushed again and averted your gaze down. His lips curled upwards. It must be something about you that made you so sweet, like sugar and honey mixed together.

You shook your head and looked back at him. “I-I’m sorry… I’ve never been with anyone… So this isn’t… I don’t—“

As you were rumbling, you were cut off by the same pair of lips that had you instantly melting. You gasped as he took your lips with his, aggressively making you gasp again and causing more goosebumps to pop up on your body.

With one hand wrapped around the nape of your neck, the other still holding your face to his, you heard him whisper. “I told you to close your eyes, didn’t I? Just relax and enjoy, [Name].”

The warmth in his voice caused you to nod, relaxing and feeling his hands glide from your face to your shoulder blades.

His fingers spread over your skin and then glided lower, gliding across your lower back and dipping under the hem of your shirt.

And he kissed you again, deep and soft. The tip of his tongue flicked against the roof of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine.

You whimpered louder, unable to suppress the shy excitement bubbling within you. Your hips begin to squirm again, craving more friction and movement.

His tongue continues to dance between your lips, making you shudder against him. Slowly, he lets go of your lips, kissing down your chin and neck. His lips met the spot where your jawline meets your collarbone and you felt his hot breath on your skin. He nuzzled against you, quietly admiring how pink you were just from a long kiss. You turned your head, keeping his hair from tickling your skin.

A moment passed before his lips started to lick and suck at the area, sending another wave of bliss rushing throughout your entire body. God, is this what making out feels like?

Your entirety was burning hot, your nerves receiving one shock to another, and you felt so wet between your legs. All of these, all of what Venti is doing to you is making you feel an immeasurable pleasure of bliss.

You don’t know what you were doing except to moan and whimper his name out from your pretty mouth.

“Hmm… Venti…”

The said man grunted, his teeth grazing your flesh before biting and sucking your skin. You muffled your screams with your hands. With the darkness and bites combining with each other, it’s difficult to grasp what Venti will do next.

Because by the time you were thinking of it, his lips traveled to your neck and returned to kissing you. After giving you a good long and deep kiss he parted, a small string of saliva following after him.

He gulped his heavy breaths and permitted you to open your eyes. Your whole face was red and sweaty, your lips once coated with balm were now gone and replaced with the dripping of saliva, and your clothes were slightly disarray.

But you’re not complaining.

“You can open your eyes,”

As you obliged his words, Venti was gazing at you deeply. His green optics swirled with a great amount of lust. He hovered over you, his hands slipping beneath your shirt to caress your soft and warm skin so he could remember all areas of your body from his palm alone. 

Through your hazy vision, you can faintly make out some of your tinted balms were all over his lips. It'd be nice to paint his face with your lipstick...

But maybe on another day.

Putting his temple against yours, his breathy voice gave you shivers. “Continue or stop?” He asked.

You too were panting, so occupied by those delicious kisses he fed you that you eventually forgot to answer him.

“Yes or no? If you don’t answer I’ll take that as a no, [Name].” He kissed your jaw, his palm so dangerously close to your breasts that he was already fiddling with the underband of your bra.

Without hesitation, you replied, “Continue, please.”

[cringelordofchaos]

craig is so fucking emotionally repressed and afraid of being vulnerable and open about his feelings and bottles them up way too much until he cant handle it and it never gets resolved i love him

he thinks he "is in control of his emotions", but in reality it seems like he's moreso blocking them out or ignoring them, or trying to rationalize the situation. (at least that's what it seems to be the case judging by the fact that's how he tried to help tweek feel better in Put It Down.) But it's literally canon that his primary weakness is communication so its definitely moredifficult for him to express his emotions unless he burts them out (like in his argument with tweek in put it down.)

love his relationship with tweek, it really forces him to confront an important part of life he is shown avoiding - emotions. and by talos it is difficult for him but he's learning.

though at the same time he's overwhelmed and overburdened, since tweek is pretty emotional and sometimes potentially clingy (due to him being naturally insecure of himself and somewhat relying on craig for encouragement), this might be perceived as a threat for craig who's practically afraid of emotions or vulnerability, and probably doesnt know how to manage them the best.

this is best shown (but not resolved) in Buddha Box where Cartman says the buddha box can help him block out anxiety or other people that may overburden him. he begins to talkabout tweek and feeling like hes always asking for his attention. so he just tries blocking everything out instead of confronting this or communicating this to tweek. its pretty interesting how they practically made it canon that he actually struggles with anxiety, despite him being the monotone, deadpan and calm one, especially when compared to tweek. im pretty disappointed they didnt resolve this by the end, but boy am i glad they showed the part of him that struggles as much as others. from what we know, craig is really not that close to many people, or much things, besides stripe, his guinea pig... so given his difficulties with communicating and accepting his feelings accompanied by the fact that he isnt and never was close to that many people, i dont blame him for finding it difficult to exactly manage his relationshiip with tweek, especially as tweek is really emotional himself. and craig does care, a lot, and does want tweek to be happy, and he tries helping him by simply being logical and coming up with solutions, rather than thinking emotionally, but sometimes that's simply not enough. and he does learn that in put it down but sort of starts struggling again in buddha box, except this time instead of learning to be emotinally vulnerable for tweek, he shuts himself off from everyone. though hopefully one day he learns to be more open, because that's pretty important in general but especially in a relationship, i think.

eurghhhh they complete each other so well. they are so different which does prove itself to be an obstacle but also is important for both of them, because they learn soo much from each other. Tweek learned how to be more confident in himself 'in a way he never has before' thanks to craig. and tweek is helping craig learn how to manage emotional relationships and life better and understand emotions in general.

Im not sure where exactly his emotional suppression comes from. It could be due to his family being more closed off. it could be due to him possibly being autistic. it could be due to both. it could be due to neither. but i love him nonetheless.

anyway sorry for small rant. the post was initially just gonna be one sentence but i felt like elaborating on what i meant. i love craig tucker soooo much. he makes me soooo happy.

[kindred-spirit-93]

I KINDA CLEANED MY WINDOWS!!

its probably going to rain and render my efforts useless but idc its been bothering me for so long and today i did the bare minimum and im happy. i used wipes lol i can see dust lines but still. a win is a win

--

kinda going through it. i think its a quarter life crisis lmao (or half whos to say ;)) except its very chill. like milestones and relationships arent bothering me (all in good time im in no rush) and i dont feel like im behind or missing out on anything.

im just existing and trying to make it till graduation yk? im tired

skipped another class today lol (last one no promises tho) to go to the cafeteria again. im allowing myself to compromise bc i really am not feeling great. ofc theres no one but myself to blame for that lol but this aint about her. also social anxiety can go cry in the corner >:)

--

wearing my emotional support turtleneck lmao, ate a bite of yesterdays carrot cake (divine), my beloved honeybee plushie is within arms reach. im trying. and its progress

new year tomorrow so hopefully ill snap into it again and feel better after studying and ticking a few boxes. hopefully.

so many things i want to do. short term and long term. so little time and barakah these days. but we persist.

--

i love my patho prof so much. my uncle taught her during at some point and she worked with another uncle of mine for some time so she knows the family well. shes so wonderful and always keen to learn and help (conflict of interest who? im joking were all very professional which surprisingly is the opposite of the norm here. but thats an essay for another time)

yesterday after class she read and went through the physicians oath (fun fact theres a muslim version! and generally modern versions lol iirc the og hippocratic one was a bit wild) with us and its beautiful. i plan on printing it out and sticking it somewhere i can see.

anyway i think its important to keep the end goal (visibly) in sight bc its easy esp for me to get caught up in the minutiae of the every day and get overwhelmed, so its a good reminder for me to renew my intention every now and again, and to appreciate how far ive come :)

--

dont u hate it when ur upset or angry and then every inanimate object in existence conspires against u. like wtf are u doin. why are u unionising and why tf is it against me??? im on ur side u jerks >:'(

in ther news my baby cousin is the cutest lil man on the planet his shenanigans are always hysterical. yesterday he left all his toys to go play with the aubergines lmao. legos? nah we stacking tuna cans XD

--

my dads meeting a friend today so i asked him over lunch what [friends] phd was about since his bachelors is in arabic. like what research do u do in languages, and he said the master thesis was abt the sentence structure of the nabataean language (aramaic i think) and how it resembles arabic. and if thst isnt the coolest fricking thing idk what is

i love languages so much i really wish i could learn every langauge under the sun and read every book in existence. maybe in heaven lol. anyway i asked him if he could ask him to recommend me a book and he said he will :3

the 2 books i bought last year when we went to turkiye abt the ottoman empire sitting on my shelves collecting dust: this bitch

--

my hands are cold and im getting too lazy to type lol. thank u for reading this far, might post some class doodles today idk (my attention span these days is truly something scandalous)

hope ur all doing well! take care of yo selves, drink water or ill personally hunt u down, and enjoy da fireworks tonight!

"with alarm, your scholar" - kindred

[the-record]

YOU’RE GONNA GO FAR

SUMMARY: you’d wait up for the rest of your life for nelly.

PAIRING: nell jackson x readership

WARNINGS: honestly a homoerotic friendship bc duh!!! death and grief

A/N: disclaimer that i have no idea if these times and dates r accurate but used my best context clues!!! anyways i actually like this one a lot :))

‘YOU’RE THE GREATEST THING WE’VE LOST’

tottenham, 1698

you didn’t understand. she was leaving? with some man, captain jackson, none of you knew.

“but why?” you ask, feeling out of breath. “what about george and roxy?” your eyes fill with tears as you pace in-front of nelly. “what about me?” 

she stops you, grabbing your hands and pulling you in-front of her. she’s sitting on your bed, legs spread just enough to be ‘un-ladylike’. “george and roxy have pa, they’ll be fine.” her hands grip yours tighter than they ever have as she stares into your eyes. youre sure she can see your soul, can read your every thought. “and you’ll be fine. some fella will want you, im sure of it.” 

you scoff and shake off her hands. “i don’t want some fella nelly, i want you to be here!” you laugh as you shake your head in disbelief. “don’t know why i try, you wont listen anyways.” the sun sets slowly outside your window and you watch as it gets darker. “think you should be getting home.” nelly sighs like she wants to say more but you shake your head. “not a suggestion, go home.” 

she knows better than to fight you on it, no matter how much she wants to stay here and help you make sense of it. you avoid her gaze as she walks out, not responding to the quiet ‘bye’ she says as she leaves.

it’s been days since nelly talked to you, she was getting nervous you wouldn’t say goodbye when they left tomorrow.

“nelly,” roxy’s got george in her arms as she helps around the pub. “she came round, said to meet you by some tree.” nelly doesn’t need roxy to clarify who ‘she’ is before she sets off.

she finds you sitting the base of the tree, your back against the trunk. hair tucked in a bonnet and laundry dress on, nelly doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful.

she slows down as she gets closer, taking the time to walk the distance and pray you dont hate her. she doesn’t think she could handle that. you look up when she’s just a few feet away and give her a gentle, friendly smile. nelly is out of breath, but trying, and failing, to hide it. flopping down beside you, she stares while waiting for you to speak.

“i’m sorry.” it’s quiet, and maybe unsure. you don’t look at her when you say it, eyes favoring the field across the path. “wasn’t trying to be mean,” you start. “feel like im gonna be here forever. and i just…” you trail off and pick at the grasses. “just scared of missin’ you.” your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your chest at the admission. 

but she finds it endearing and sweet. and she finds that a part of her feels the same. “i hope you do,” she teases. “need a reason to come home, don’t i?” you smack her shoulder, but you laugh. nelly saves the sweet sound in the back of her mind. 

“i’m always gonna be waiting up for you, nell.”

true to your word, you wait for six years. 2,361 days of waiting when word finally comes. 

nelly, your nelly, dead. alongside that horrible captain jackson who stole her all those years ago. you blame him. 

a light switches off after that.

roxy becomes bit more reserved, she works more. she dedicates the rest of her free time to her pa and george. they fight over nelly, over the gravestone he wouldn’t buy.

sam was always hardheaded, but even more so now. he pretends her death doesn’t affect him, but in the quiet at night in the privacy of his room, he thinks of her.

george was too young to ever really know nelly, but she feels a sort of loss. she grieves the sister she never got to truly experience. 

you cut off the trotters, suddenly their existence being to strong of a reminder. you dream about her nearly every night.

“m’lady,” nelly snatches your hand and pulls you towards her as you walk through the field. she kneels and you fake gasp. “will you give me your hand in marriage?” her toff impression makes you laugh but you try to hold it in as you nod. a dandelion turned ring is placed on your marriage finger. “connects to your heart y’know.” 

you inspect it carefully, catching it in the low sun. “i suppose that’ll do.” 

you don’t sleep much anymore.

you’re on your way to your shift at the laundry when roxy shows up in-front of you, completely out of breath. she doesn’t say a word, just takes your hand and pulls you with her. you trust the girl not to question it and follow her to the talbot. 

an army man stands talking to sam by the bar but youre only confused for a moment. 

“nelly?” roxy’s voice is breathless, ever so slightly deeper than the last time you talked. more mature. but you don’t have time to worry about that when the army man turns.

and nelly makes sense now. 

she’s here, ginger curls tucked under a hat. freckles still decorating her cheeks. lips cracked and split on one side, but forever the prettiest shade of pink. 

she catches roxy and you think you may fall over yourself. because she’s dead. for a year now. you worry your imagining it all, stuck in a nightmare. but when she calls your name and youre pulled out of a trance, you know she’s real. she’s here. alive.

“you’re dead.” you whisper, not truly meaning to. she’s confused for a moment, looking over to roxy who nods in agreement.

nelly raises her eyebrows. “well that explains the way everyone’s looking at me.” 

your head shakes and you have to take a step back, then forward, before ultimately turning on your heel and leaving. walking as far as your tired legs will take you. over to the graveyard and to her ‘headstone’ roxy and george made her. 

nelly jackson. 1683-1704. 

you didn’t imagine it. youre not sure how long you’ve been there when they girls come up behind you, chatting away. making up for lost time. you still can’t wrap your head around it.

a letter told you all of her passing alongside captain jackson, her husband. you grieved the girl for months. watched as the trotters changed to fit the loss of her soul. 

yet now she walks side by side the girls and stops beside you at the wooden cross. “well.” you stand up and look from her to the cross. “roxy, george, give us a minute. yeah?” the girls walk away, a newfound pep. 

“i don’t get it.” you say as your hand wipes down your face. “you dont write, visit, send any word for six years. you die, and now youre here.” your hands flail as you speak. “seven years, nelly, seven. and now youre back?” 

she’s quiet for a moment, thinking of what to say. “nell.”

you laugh sarcastically, utterly confused. “what?”

“nell.” she says again. “not nelly anymore.”

you could slap her. she deserves it. “are you bloody serious?” and when you laugh again, it’s not the one she saved in a box in her mind. it’s empty. “that’s all you have to say.”

“i was widowed, captain jackson, he was blown up at the battle of blenheim.” nelly, nell, explains. “apparently i was too.” she adds. “didn’t know or i would’ve found someone to write.”

it’s enough for now. enough to satisfy you and break your heart. enough to fill you with guilt. “oh nell.” your arms find their way around her neck, clicking into place like a puzzle piece. her own wrap around your waist and bring you close. you stay like that for a moment, not nearly long enough. “i waited for you.”

nell laughs, a real true laugh that lets your reality set in place. she’s here. truly really here with you. “i knew you would.”

childish as it may be, you slept over at the trotters several times after nell’s return. you had a lot to catch up on after all.

the night’s were quiet, the both of you speaking softly as to not wake anyone.

“my mum’s hounding me to find a husband,” you sigh, playing with a rogue curl by her face. her own hand traces along your side while she listens intently. “i dread the day she finds one for me.”

nell’s quiet for a moment. she takes in the moment. you laying down beside her with your arm reaching towards her face. she’s propped up her head with a hand and is memorizing your features. not new, but now different than they used to be. a part of her wishes to stay here forever. another dreams to explore the world.

“i could make a good husband.” she jokes. but you don’t laugh, don’t even smile. she sees you adopt this far off look and she worries she’s upset you. “hey,” you snap back and nod, a fake smile adorning your face after a moment. “what’s wrong?” she whispers, leaning ever so slightly closer.

but you shake your head and dismiss it. “tired.” nell knows you’re lying, you could stay up all night. but she doesn’t push, she instead nods and blows out the candle. she lays down and let’s you slide closer until your head finds her shoulder and your eyes close. “take me with.”

nell hums, confused. “what’d you mean?”

“next time you leave.” you say softly.

“i’m tired of waiting up.”

‘AND WE’LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER’

[s0lar-ch3ri]

thinking about him (spoilers for jrwi)

thinking about how in atleast 2 scenarios chip has blamed himself more then needed, first with ollie ("i took him from his home") then with gillion ("i gave him the card") and each time he tried to put on a confident face but really it ate away at him inside.

thinking about how gillion is constantly taking on responsibility and chip canonically sees gillion as inspiration (humble beginnings, bizly says the inspo from the future is from gillion tidestrider) and its not like he only takes some blame but usually its all the blame because gillion knows how to acknowledge his faults somewhat.

thinking about how chip takes promises ever so seriously (ie, not even doing simple lies after promising gill that he wouldnt) yet hes such an example of "change doesnt happen overnight" and how he acts can be directly or indirectly related to past adventures and/or trauma (probably even how he copes is atleast somewhat connected to the guy he killed under price).

thinking about how chip grew up looking up to arlin and seeing what a great example of pirates the black rose were and trying to be something atleast somewhat great and feeling like he failed when hes the only one on deck with somewhat an idea of what a pirate is.

thinking about how chip would lie to protect his friends yes but became a lying machine to protect himself before and hid his intents because while he can absolutely trust his crew his instinct is too not because he got used to being on his own and putting himself first and now hes around people (mostly gill) who put themselves before him to help protect him.

thinking about how easily gillion made friends with people on islands and eventually it rubbed onto chip too (ie: gryffin, felipe, etc) as he unlearned the idea that hes alone in a cruel world that only exists to make him suffer and theres a light in everyones life that makes it even just slightly better, no matter the background (main example is gill again).

thinking about how much gillion is willing to sacrifice for his friends and when felipe wanted to stab him every night, it was chip who tried to talk sense into gill because he cares for gillion and (most likely) was worried that felipe may be lying about healing and may full on kill him.

and all these thoughts (and more) make me feel so much when they found the empty rowboat with nothing but ashes and a fiendish smell and gillion starts blaming himself so chip grabs his shoulders and says "its not your fault, you werent the one who made him grab the card" because somewhere in my heart it feels like maybe chip isnt just talking to gill but to the part of himself that keeps on trying to hold onto every wrong hes done, every sin that keeps him up at night, every lie that is amplified in his skull, that he deserves forgiveness and not everything in the world lays on his shoulders.

and with these thoughts, one more comes to mind: chip and gillion are so similar in backgrounds and morals and thats why theyre the ones that break each others walls and misunderstand each other and fight because they probably dont even fucking see it.

[mellohiizz]

im more complex about the episode then everyone else seems to be apparently. imo they all sucked this episode.

for one, i am actually a dean sympathizer. lets be real parrot and wifies both treated him badly. i wouldnt have told parrot either when he was there constantly repeating the exact same things ash said to blackmail dean; and wifies isnt much better for affirming the shit ash told dean either, infact i would argue wifies was even worse then about it. if i was there hearing "ash was right. youre a burden, but thats ok." and "ash was right. your a burden, we should be leaving you for dead." i wouldnt want to risk jeopardizing my one source of safety either.

before the reveal that dean was actually involved in the leaking of their location wifies just came of as a semi-controlling dick. there were a million better ways all of them could have done things this episode. i dont really like the wifies glazing as if he was perfect this episode and didnt treat a fellow victim who lodgically didnt have a choice like shit. wifies is smart enough to figure out dean didnt want to sell them out. imo he had no actual reason to reason to treat dean with as little empathy as he did, especially when wifies knows exactly what its like to have his existance used to get to parrot in the exact chain of events parrot referenced after the compass was burnt.

both sides of odessy were being hypocritical and hurtful as hell and thats been a theme of uu the whole time. theyre all flawed, they are make mistakes and are selfish and hurt others doing what they think is righteous or best or safest. uu is the dichotomy of perspective, about how everyone does what they think is best and how more often then not that best hurts atleast someone. and guess what? thats life. thats actually pretty normal, especially if youve been through your own shit or are traumatized like the characters of uu are.

they all suck and hurt people, thats the moral of the story. the moral that feels very lost on most of the fandom...

-🔍🏰(f:▶️🥊)

honestly, good take. kind of made me rethink some things that happened in the episode as well.

to be fair, yes, obviously dean was treated badly the whole episode. even i noted that wifies was a bit too harsh with how he approached things the whole video. he knew that dean was leaking information, didn't tell parrot, and still tried to put basically the whole blame of it on dean. "you could argue i hid it from you" yes, wifies, you did keep it from parrot, knowing that parrot would've tried to look for a different solution.

parrot was obviously not any better. he brushed off wifies despite the other very clearly showing signs of concern and he did also openly called dean a burden. which is, yes, he was slowing them down, but i feel like there was a nicer was to go about it.

and yes, i do sympathize with dean, but he did hide a piece of pretty crucial information from them, keeping a leverage in the compass, and then ran away after being confronted. it's fair, i'm not saying he was entirely wrong for that too, but i feel like it wouldn't be fair to say anyone was fully in right/wrong.

and yeah, you're are right, the morality of characters is a pretty obvious focus on the whole uu, and obviously all of them are very flawed. taking wifies's words, we just need to try and look at things from all of their perspectives. they're all understandable, and in some ways even reasonable, but there were much better ways to go about the whole situation, but the problem was exactly that. perspective. they were all focused on their individual goals and didn't try to see everything from the perspective of others. and that's what separated all of them.

[rnn11203]

How much do you think Demetrius/robin tried with Sebastian? I kinda see all the parents of stardew to be well meaning in a sense that i think they do truly love their children but they get swept up and do wrong due to their circumstances, resentment, and insecurity.

I think Pam loves Penny, but her addiction, raising penny on her own, losing her job… yk? All that pain turned into more pain, i think Pam knows penny has done far too much for her, but is too ashamed to fully realize it, so to cope she internalizes it and blames penny all over. Obsesses over her own sacrifices and her own pain and ends up neglecting her.

I think Jodi loves Sam and Vincent, but she also feels resentful, lamenting about a life not lived, she married young and now worries about a husband who is different from when he left. She’s afraid that Sam’s turned lazy, but also didnt want to repeat the wasted youth she missed out on too, she bottles her emotions and it creates anxiety for Sam specifically. Kent too, its interesting that Sam feels indifferent to his fathers return isnt it? All that lost time, strangers now, Sam had grown fine without him and perhaps this creates guilt for both of them.

I think Pierre and Caroline love Abigail, honestly, i dont think the “rumors” bother Pierre THAT much, i think sometimes he feels it, maybe after a particularly rough fight with either of his family members but i think he truly loves her, he’s her dad after all no matter who her father is. Caroline too, i think it’s just this unspoken thing for them, let the town gossip, they love their daughter. I dont think they understand her very well tho, and yk, she doesnt think they do either. Its one of those things where the more you try to understand, the less you hear. Abigails relationship with her parents reads more cliche teenager to me though, i headcanon that their relationships settle as she ages. I think Abigail would move out of the valley and travel frequently but i think shed make trips back to her family often. Mostly for holidays. I think Caroline specifically would still feel anxious and wish she didnt travel as much, but i think her and Pierre’s relationship gets better in the future too. (It’s funny, Pierre is one of the least popular characters but i actually really like him).

Which brings me to Sebastian, Robin, and Demetrius. Again with an unpopular opinion, when i first played, i really liked Demetrius. Although i did feel that robins side of the arguements were more “correct”.

I headcanon Sebastian’s age to be around 22-23~ while Maru’s is 18-19~. I also headcanon that Sebastians father simply just left while Seb was around 3~. Im curious to how others think him and robin met, im unsure if its ever mentioned in game but honestly i think they met due to work. Demetrius has stated that he studies the local flora and fauna and Robin is a carpenter, i imagine she has a lot of knowledge about pelican towns native plants and animals. I think they were smitten, i can see robin liking Demetrius more nerdy/dorky behavior and robins stern, playful, spitfire personality has captured the hearts of many players after all.

Sebastian comes off as a Velcro kid to me, i think he’d be a huge mamas boy and feel almost threatened by Demetrius. I think robin and Demetrius would marry quickly, and honestly i think Maru was a planned pregnancy, I think robin wanted to give Sebastian a sibling so he’d be less lonely, and i think they’d figure that bonding would happen easier if they were closer in age. I see this being very upsetting to Sebastian, i think he’d see his father once in a while but when hes around 12-13 it’s just.. silence.

Honestly, i think Demetrius would try really hard to bond with Sebastian. But once Maru came along both him and robin were just.. busy. I think Demetrius would unfortunately think “wow this is my first child!” And it alienated Sebastian. I think Sebastian feels abandoned. Replaced. Unwelcome. Which is why he struggles with opening up to others and prefers being alone.

Unfortunately i think robin and Demetrius would just think Sebastian was a more difficult child and that Maru was an easier baby. I think this would embarrass Sebastian and shame him, i dont think they ever meant anything by it but i do think Sebastian was a fussy child who wanted to be soothed. But after their comments, he’d isolate himself so that he too, would be an “easier” child for them. As Sebastian ages i think robin would feel she didnt do enough for him, i think she worries about him often but almost feels like it’s “too late”. I think eventually Sebastian would come to resent and feel mistreated by all his parents and as his behavior worsened, he’d get compared to Maru even more, furthering the resentment and pain he feels. I do think he’d be a meaner older brother though, causing Demetrius to be more protective over Maru causing stronger feelings of “you’re not my dad!” And etc…. Can you tell im sleepy yet?

TLDR: i think they would try their best but ultimately end up sidelining him, causing him to act out more until he just didnt care anymore.

[aachria]

once again writing as im reading yk how it is

You apologizing in the notes for a longer chapter will never fail toget me hyped and sorta nervous 🧍‍♀️

SABO AND LUFFY REUNION I LOVE THEM

"So did you (get taller) , thank you for staying alive long enough for me to know that" aachria the writer that you are 😭 you always manage to make me emotional

Snakebite/fangs sabo my beloved ALSO SEPTUM PIERCING SABO??? HIM HAVING A SHIT TOM OF PIERCINGS??? AACHRIAAAAA. WRITE MORE SABO CHAPTERS AND MY LIFE IS YOURS.

"…Who the fuck picks a prosethetic that looks like Sans from Undertale???? " Sabo the man you are

AACHRIA. PLEASE. IM AT THE "ACE TO BE EXECUTED" PART. WTF. WHAT WHAT WHAT 😭 UHM. I knew my ass was being too hopeful about both of them being there 😕 i shouldn't have trusted you.

If Ace dies. I'll cry. /th. You'll cry too so please don't kill him 🙏‼️

NOOOO ED DONT BLAME YOURSELF ITS NOT UR FAULT YOU WERE LIKE ⅘S DEAD ATP FR

THE VIVRE CARD OMG AACHRIA PL3ASE HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US HOW COULD YOU 😭😭

"I can’t save him. I can’t save him, I can’t save him I CAN’T SAVE HIM I CAN’T SAVE HIM— " ricky when i catch you Ricky. I dont wanna call this foreshadowing cause that might give you ideas and i predicted quite a bit of stiff right. So i predict Portgas D. Ace will Live.

MONKEY D. LUFFY THE MAN YOU ARE 😭

I want you to know i cried at the Luffy comforting and forgiving Ed part 😕

" “How can you say that?” I croak, trying to find any hint of dissension in his expression. “How can you not believe it?” he counters." 😕😕😕😕😭😭😭😭 you're a bully

ED COWBOY HAT ED COWBOY HAT ED COWBOY HAT OMG IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BUT IT WOULDVE BEEN BETTER HAD ACE BEEN THE ONE TO GIVE IT TO THEM IN PERSON ANOTHER REMINDER THAT YOU'RE A BULLY. A MEAN MEAN BULLY 😭

ACES NOTE OMG I LOVE HIM SM HE BETTER NOT DIE 😭

" Bit of a shit way to meet and in law but hi" and then no elaboration is so funny 😭

PLANNING FUCK YEAH I ALWAYS LOVE THISE SEQUENCES IN FICS

Did. Did failure make ed forget about the kuma sending everyone away thing? Or are they gonna try to put it off til after marineford??? Or is it just not gonna happen at all???

Ed repeatedly saying "i love competent people" with kore and more intensity 3ach time is so real what a mood

Jonah mentioned 🤭 love to see sabo and ace bonding

ED AND LUFFY PRISON BREAK ED AND LUFFY PRISON BREAK ED AND LUFFY PRISON BREAK ED AND LUFFY PRISON BREAK

"Unquestionably" 🤭🤭🤭

im still worried abt wtf is gonna happen a propos the strawhats separation

Amazing chapter as always excited to see the next chapter that you might post on Wednesday THANK YOU SO MUCH ‼️

GUYS I PROMIE I'M NOT APOLOGIZING I'M MAKING A STATEMENT BECAUSE I'M A BIG CONSISTENCY GIRLIE AND I FIGURE YOU'D LIKE TO KNOW GOING IN THAT IT'LL BE LONGER THAN YOU'D TYPICALLY THINK. LIKE IF YOU THINK YOU CAN READ A CHAPTER BEFORE GOING SOMEWHERE AND DON'T GET TO FINISH BECAUSE IT'S LONGER THAN YOU EXPECED. I DON'T KNOW.

but yeah getting you hyped and nervous is pretty much the intended effect.

I was trying real hard to keep faithful to the feelings from the canon Sabo and Luffy reunion while also not having Ace being DEAD as the driving force of the thanks (the ASL brothers thanking each other is something that can be so personal—) and I'm, if nothing else, content with where it ended up. Fuckin' love those two.

Nothing shows how much you love a character like giving them fucktons of piercings and just generally disregarding their canon design. He is my special little guy and I will make him strange and weird like he deserves and if that included stealing his fucking eye and making it more awesome and also poking a myriad of holes in his face, who's to stop me?

I am terribly trustworthy excuse you. I never said I wasn't going to do terrible things. I asked if you thought I'd do terrible things and I hoped I wouldn't do terrible things, but I never made any promises. Hheh.

I also make no promises not to kill Ace. For the record. But I will cry absolutely.

If there's one thing about Ed, it's that if they're given a chance they will martyr the SHIT out of ANYTHING. Like pookie please your saviour complex is showing.

I was so ready for someone to call out the recurring smoked fish joke like 'hmmmm smoked fish you say kinda of like SMOKE from something BURNING IS IT?!" and then that didn't happen and I felt vindicated. And please when have I ever used foreshadowing before. Doesn't sound like me at all.

Luffy is my hero you GO bestie COMFORT that idiot YEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH—

Look that cowboy hat is fantastic and my catalyst for cowboy Ed, who can only get more cowboy cunty from here. Nothing say pirate quite like a cowboy.

Oh yeah baby Ed is very aware of Kuma. There's a bunch of you shits who were real concerned about them forgetting and to that I say the first little sequence of next chapter was supposed to be on the end of last chapter, but it was already too damn long so I had to split 'er up. It'll make more sense when you read it.

I LOVE COMPOTENT PEOPLE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ ED AND LUFFY PRISON BREAK ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

Yeah.... the separation.........

Anyway yeah I didn't end up doing to Wed update because I had a bad week but there WILL be one this week ‼️‼️