#do you think he made jokes before the other 6 left

[honeymariee]

nah cause if this is how im reacting with the first one how am i going to mentally survive the other six. 🧍🏻‍♀️ bts was the one stable thing in my life FOR YEARS. WHAT DO I DO NOW THAT JIN IS GONE. WHAT AM I GONNA DO WHEN THEY LEAVE ONE BY ONE. WHAT AM I GONNA DO WHEN JK IS THE LAST TO GO. I WILL BE BARELY KEEPING IT TOGETHER. DONT LET TGIS DISTRACT YOU FROM THE FACT THAT WE STILL HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHERE YOONGI’S TATTOO IS AND IF HE HAS A CAT OR NOT. MIN YOONGI YOU MEAN MAN.

[wileycap]

Selected Excerpts From The Fire Nation Royal Palace Servants' (Unofficial) Handbook

Or: Revisions To Normal Protocol After The Ascension Of Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko

1. Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko should not be referred to by his full titles and styles, no matter the context. This appears to annoy him. "Fire Lord Zuko" and "Lord Zuko" are acceptable, as well as "your majesty" and "my Lord".

1.1 "Lord Hotman", however, is unacceptable.

1.2. Even if the Avatar specifically requests you to address Fire Lord Zuko as that.

1.3. In fact, any attempts by the Avatar, the Lady Beifong, the honorable Tribesman Sokka or even Master Katara to get you to address Fire Lord Zuko by anything other than his proper title should be disregarded.

1.4. Referring to Ozai of the Fire Nation (titles rmvd, dishon.) as "The Loser Lord", however, is acceptable.

2. Fire Lord Zuko is aware of the concept of mortality, but does not seem to understand how it relates to His Majesty. Following activities should be discouraged: Free climbing, glider usage, contact with exotic animals larger than a turtleduck (or smaller, if the animal is known to be venomous), amateur theatre productions, cooking, sailing, spelunking, botany, please see full list in the Matron's office.

2.1. It should be noted that His Majesty's belief that mortality does not apply to him does not appear to be completely unfounded. After several "close calls", it has been decided that upon his demise, Fire Lord Zuko should lie in state for at least two weeks.

2.1.1. We do not want another incident.

3. The turtleducks in the Western Pond do not need to be fed by the servants any more.

3.1. However, the turtleducks should be rotated out at regular intervals in order to prevent overfeeding.

4. At any official social functions, at least three servants should be vigilant in case His Majesty tries to tell a joke.

4.1. It should be noted that there is no concern for His Majesty's jokes being offensive, crass or otherwise contrary to good taste. They are simply very bad. His Majesty always ends up embarrassed.

5. Any children left unattended in the Royal Palace for more than 15 degrees can be retrieved from the Fire Lord's office.

6. Should His Majesty go missing, the following places should be searched: roofs and any high places, cellars and secret passages, the fur of the Avatar's sky bison (which is surprisingly deep), and every place that an ordinary five-year-old would think to hide in during a game of "Hide and Explode."

6.1. All of the Imperial Firebenders as well as any soldier who wears a mask during the course of their duties should be questioned.

6.1.1. Important note: Some of the soldiers who are especially close to His Majesty can perform a passable imitation of him. Efforts should be made to prevent an uneducated soldier from, say, conducting a meeting with the Minister of Agriculture.

6.2. After the recent incident, that list is expanded to include the Kyoshi Warriors and any other groups that might wear concealing full face paint.

6.3. If all of these measures prove ineffective, a letter should be sent to The Dragon of the West, Prince Iroh, asking His Highness to return His Majesty.

6.4. If a ransom note is delivered, it should be immediately checked against the handwriting samples from the honorable Tribesman Sokka as well as Avatar Aang, before any other actions are taken.

6.4.1. Replying "Good luck, he's your problem now" to a ransom note is absolutely unacceptable.

6.4.1.1. To further drive home the point, the Royal Archives are required by law to preserve every single piece of royal correspondence. That thing will end up in a museum.

This handbook will be updated should it prove necessary.

[writingsonsaturn]

Tim having a younger girlfriend who gets princess treatment from him, she very obviously in love with Tim, and nobody at the station believes he has a girlfriend, so one day she shows up and work and everyone gets to see and meet her and see just how much she has Tim wrapped around her finger <3

Sorry if it doesn't make sense

puppy love - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: hopefully this lives up to what you were thinking!! i did my best to capture all the main elements that you wanted in the story <33

word count: 1039

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Tim was notorious for being a hardass, his rough demeanor and strict ways of teaching made him seem like a total douchebag, for lack of a better word.

However, for you, he was a ball of sunshine, just don't let anyone else know that. 

Tim was awoken to the deafening sound of his alarm clock, he looked over at the red numbers, the clock reading “6:00am”, he sighed and reached a hand over to turn the blaring sound off. He turned over at the movement of your sleeping body, his hand now brushing through your hair with a small smile on his lips, waking up wasn't so bad when he got to see your face every morning.

You woke up gently at the new warmth that was on your head, “do you have to leave today?” you whispered with annoyance, one eye looking at him while the other stayed shut hoping to retain some sleep “unfortunately i do, baby, but i'll be home in time for our date” he responds, leaning over and kissing your forehead. 

He gets out of bed and heads for the closet putting on his uniform, once he’s done getting ready he reaches for his duty belt and gun that he keeps in his nightstand. Finally he leans over to give you one last kiss goodbye, “i love you, i’ll text you on break” you felt his lips move, “i love you too, be safe and come home to me” you respond as he walks out of the room gently shutting the door.

You shortly go back to sleep to get extra shuteye before having to go to your 9:00 am psychology class.

===

Tim made it to work early, going into the locker room and putting his duffle bag full of extra clothes and little snacks that you had snuck in there “just in case”, once he left the locker room he made his way to the debriefing room. “Hey Tim, you still owe me the 13 bucks for that burrito i bought you last week” Angela points out, while walking in behind him “ah right” he groans pulling out his wallet simply forgetting the little photo he kept of you in there.

The photo fell on the ground as Tim pulled out the cash, Angela reached down holding the picture “who is that?” she wonders while looking at the piece of paper “my girlfriend” he responds while holding out the $13, “you? You have a girlfriend?” she jokes “yeah, and i'm a millionaire” she finished sarcastically and walked away to sit down in her seat.

Tim just silently rolled his eyes and put your photo back in the safety of his wallet, after Grey gave his briefing, Angela and Nyla both started talking about Tim’s “girlfriend” the others overheard and suddenly everyone knew about Tim’s private life. 

“Tim has a girlfriend?” Lucy questioned, while walking over the group and grinning. “That’s what he claims, when he was paying me back a photo slipped out of his wallet and when i asked who it was he said it was his girlfriend, but i don't know who would torture themselves like that” she explained, Nolan had his eyebrows raised “come on guys, Tim can’t be that bad” Nolan continued “he probably just doesn't like us” he smiled making the others laugh. 

“Okay! Are you guys ready to stop being a bunch of highschoolers and gossiping about my love life so we can, I don't know, do our job?” Tim dead panned, they all quietly snickered, and some started getting ready to head out.

Tim heard the faint call of his name, and fast feet, “Tim! you forgot your lunch!” you spoke quickly while softly jogging towards him. “That’s what i forgot, thank you baby” Tim mentally smacked himself for forgetting the meal you had prepared for him the night before. You smiled at him, rushing as you had to get back to the campus as you had a final in 45 minutes.

Everyone looked slightly gobsmacked, realizing that Tim was in fact not lying about having a girlfriend, Angela came up to the love sick couple, “so you’re the pretty lady Tim keeps in his wallet” she spoke with playfulness, “you must be Angela! Tim talks about you all the time, im (Y/N)” you introduced yourself with a big smile. Tim smiled at you with all the love in the world, looking at you while you introduced yourself to his friends and colleagues. 

“As much as i would absolutely love talking to you guys more, i have a really important test i have to go take” you explained with haste, everyone was extremely understanding and wished you good lucks, “One last thing, Tim, before you come home will you please pick up milk from the store? I used it all this morning” everyone looked at Tim awaiting his response “Yes ma’am” he complied, you kissed his cheek and gave everyone a last goodbye before leaving.

“Man she has you utterly whipped” Aaron spoke, while shaking his head, “yeah, you are so done for sir” Celina giggled. Tim looked at both of them with a stern face immediately making them shut up and get back to doing whatever they were doing. 

“I'm glad you found someone Tim, you deserve a good person” Lucy quietly mentioned, Tim gave a silent nod of acknowledgement letting Lucy know that what she said meant a lot to him as she left and continued on with her duties.

Tim carried on with his day, doing paperwork, and counting the minutes until he came home to you.

Once he got off of work, he made sure he picked up milk and even got you you're favorite snack, as soon as he got home you two made dinner together and sat at the kitchen table, you told him how you’re very sure you passed your final with flying colors, and he told you about the mountains of paperwork that made him wish he was in bed watching a stupid reality show with you instead. 

When it was time for bed you and Tim continued to talk about random thoughts, and your futures together before you both drifted into a peaceful sleep.

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part V

1 2 3 4 5 6

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

This chapter can be read as a one-shot without having to read the whole story! :)

"Are you staying for Christmas?" You ask casually, decorating the cookies you baked with Simon's help. Your daughter is sleeping peacefully in her crib, a small Santa Claus onesie on her, preparing her for the celebration even when there's still a few hours left.

"You want me to?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, brown eyes fully focused on decorating the head of one of the cookie figures, steady hand drawing a skull pattern with ease.

"It's her first Christmas, I think she'd like having her father around." I want you around as well. He's lucky you're focused on decorating your cookies, missing the way his face lights up with a proud smile. It's a lot of progress.

''Right. I got you both some presents in the car.'' He washes his hands on the sink, giving his daughter one last look before leaving the house, trying to gather as many of the gifts he bought as possible. ''Some presents'' was clearly an understatement— he has been building a pile of gifts for months, his car full of boxes and bags for both you and your little girl.

''Jesus Christ.'' You wash your hands and go help him as you see him struggling to carry the pile, taking some from him and putting them under the Christmas tree.

''There's more in the car.'' He seems almost sheepish as he confesses, giving him a small pat on the arm as you go outside to help him. You almost laugh as you look inside, the entire backseat full of presents. It's almost ridiculous, yet so charming how much he wants to make both of you happy, knowing how much it the holidays mean to you, especially now that you have a daughter.

''Isn't this... a bit overkill?'' You joke, earning you a playful pat on the ass now that your arms are busy. You miss the kick thrown his way, jogging after him with a smile when he playfully gets on the other side of the couch to avoid you getting revenge.

''I still got one more present coming, but that's for later.'' He walks back to the kitchen once he made sure you weren't going to kill him for patting your ass.

''I swear to God, Simon, if it's another d—'' He interrupts you by smearing frosting on your cheek, shooting you a cheeky smile that gets erased the moment you do it back— smearing way more than you should have all over his cheek.

''Bastard.''

Your baby was up by the time it was midnight, excited to see her mum and dad opening up presents and even joining in, tiny hands clearly struggling with the wrapping paper, yet somehow managing without help.

''Strong girl, like her mum.'' You smile softly at his words, looking at the way your daughter stares curiously at one of her last presents; a cactus activated by sound.

''Say 'hello'.'' Simon says, getting closer to the toy until it activates, dancing around and lighting up. Astrid looks confused as she looks at it, brown eyes looking up at you before looking back at the toy.

''Hello.'' He repeats, a warm smile on his lips when the toy starts dancing again, much to your daughter's confusion. She babbles at it, tiny hands reaching out to touch it once it starts moving and playing back her sounds, giggles escaping her lips as the toy imitates her laugh.

Simon's phone vibrates in his pocket, getting up from the couch before looking down at his phone with twinkling eyes.

''My mate's here, I'll be right back.'' He doesn't wait for you to reply, already out of the house before you can even say anything. Your focus is back to your daughter, happy that she enjoys playing with the toy rather than being scared of it like you've seen in videos online. Brave girl she is, not a single lick of fear in her.

Simon comes back a minute later, holding a big German Shepherd that can definitely walk on its own. You give him a questioning look as he sets it on the floor, holding his collar just in case.

''Absolutely not.'' You try to protest, yet your gaze softens when you see Astrid crawl to the dog.

''Wa-wa!'' She points out, tiny hands reaching up to pet the dog the same way you've taught her, gentle. The dog doesn't react much besides laying down on the floor for your daughter to pet it, making it much easier for her.

''His name's Riley, he's a retired K-9. Look, I'll pay for his food and even for someone to come take care of him when I'm not here, I just... want you to be safe.'' There's hints of pleading on his tone, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

''... I'll take care of him.'' You say with a small sigh, knowing Simon wants nothing else than for both of his girls to be safe, especially when he's deployed.

''We gave him extra training to deal with kids and emergencies. Big geezer's patient and good.'' He keeps trying to sell it as if you didn't say yes already, a small giggle escaping your lips before giving him a reassuring smile.

''We'll keep him, don't worry.'' You crouch down to pet the dog, who is clearly enjoying the attention from your daughter, allowing her to rest on his side while petting his head.

There's a smile on his face as he looks down at his family, hands fumbling with the small box in his pocket.

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

taglist: @skulfan1 @survivalshxt @ghostslittlegf @yaebaal @thecubanator2 @juliediets @shescabob @kenz-ee @lothiriel9 @dragonstoneshortcake @lunamoonbby @alfie2401 @perfectus-in-morte @mxtokko @cloufie @killergoddess97 @imaracoon @thepurpleaccount @silas-222 @actuallyhiswife @havoc973 @catkatchuck @preeyansha

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[6:58 pm]

(cw: yeah it’s hurt with comfort babes)

For weeks now you’d been left with some kind of numb, bittersweet feeling stuck in your gut. You wanted to address it, of course you did, it was big news. However, every time you let your mind linger on the thought you felt sad and physically ill. It didn’t help that your time with him was so limited either. When he had time at home, he was catching up on sleep and trying to enjoy the time you had together, even if some days it was just breakfast together.

There was no avoiding it anymore. Now, it was just a couple of days away. His comeback commitments were done, he’s been taking more and more calls, and every second you spent around him made you want to cry. How were you just supposed to go from talking to him everyday to just a small window of time to talk to him? How were you supposed to get used to walking from one room to see him to just not having him there anymore?

The front door opened as you blinked your eyes to get rid of the tears. Jaehyun was back home from his top secret errand of the day. “Honey, I’m home,” he sings out playfully.

Your heart skips a beat as it usually when you hear Jaehyun’s voice, “I’m in the living room!”

You turn as you hear his footsteps and gasp when he comes into view. His hair is gone. His lovely, long blond locks are gone and he has a buzzed head. No hair. Bald. You will your brain to think of something to say but instead your throat tightens and your eyes get wet.

“Is it that bad?” Jaehyun awkwardly chuckles.

It’s as if his voice breaks the dam of all your bottled up emotions. You can’t stop the shake of your shoulders, your shuddered breaths, your tears, or any of the racing thoughts. How is he just going to be gone in 2 days?

Jaehyun comes over and pulls you into his hold while he rocks you back and forth while your tears stain the cotton of his shirt. “Love, you have to tell me what you’re feeling. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” he tells you in a calm voice.

“But you can’t help me! You won’t be here! For 2 years!” You exclaim through your tears.

“I thought it was a little strange you refused to talk about this,” Jaehyun hums, going quiet for a second to gather his thoughts. “I know whatever I say will be easier said than done, but just listen to me, alright? We’ve already done the long distance and weird hours haven’t we? How many times have I gone on tour and been a handful of time zones away? Countless, my love.”

“I’ll be back before you know it. We’ll be in the same country. I can take breaks to come see you. We still get to talk to each other. I’m not going to space,” Jaehyun smiles, swiping his thumbs under your eyes as your tears slow.

“It’s just,” your voice breaks, “I’m so used to having you home. I like having you home. Now, it’s going to be 2 years of not being able to walk down the hall and see you. Your body wash won’t go down, your clothes won’t move, I’ll have to choose dinner for myself, I have to go grocery shopping alone, I won’t have to sit through those random basketball games you play. I’m going to miss you!”

“You think I want to live with a bunch of random men for 2 years? I’m going to miss you too, my love. More than anything in the world. But I promise you, it’ll be more like I’m on tour. We’ve done it a bunch of times already. We know we can do this. Plus, it’s not like you’re going to leave me right? That ring on your finger isn’t for nothing.”

You stare at his fingers, twisting your engagement ring around your finger as you sniffle. You’re going to miss this too, “Don’t even joke about me leaving you. I wouldn’t have committed to you for over like 7 years now if I want in it for the long run.”

“Like 7 years,” Jaehyun scoffs playfully, “you mean 6 years, 6 months and 14 days?” He kisses your forehead, holding you impossibly close, “I committed too, this is only going to make us stronger. You’re actually going to be so sick of me. I wrote you all these little letters, I have deliveries scheduled, I pre bought you birthday and Christmas gifts even though I’ll be here for those. I’ll call you every chance I get. I promise you, my love.”

You snuggle closer to him, “you’re the best.”

“I know, alright. You can play with my hair now, I know you want to,” Jaehyun smiles.

Your open hand runs over the new, short hairs, “you look really handsome. I like it.”

“Haechan said I’m my head looked bigger.”

“Well, it’s a handsome big head.”

[nininikki]

divorced-ish — n. kento

content warnings: ex-husband!nanami, delusional!nanami (he’s cute tho)

author’s note: sigh i need him

ex-husband!nanami who just couldn’t stay away from you if he tried

ex-husband!nanami who you’d originally separated from on account of his work seeming to hold more priority over you, and then your newborn daughter.

ex-husband!nanami who still keeps a photo of you and the baby on his desk at his job (which, ironically, was the thing that ultimately led to his marriage failing). when asked by his nosey secretary why he still kept the photo, he only responded, “it’s my family. why wouldn’t i?”

ex-husband!nanami who had yet to actually finalize the divorce. but really, it wasn’t his fault. he just hadn’t gotten around to sending the papers over (or having them printed up at all), what with all those crazy shifts at work. oh, well, it didn’t matter. he would do it at some point.

ex-husband!nanami who had left you virtually everything in the not-so-finalized-divorce. the four bedroom, four bathroom house, your diamond 6 carat engagement ring, your wedding china, the aston martin db9 he had gifted you for your birthday, the park avenue apartment, the country house in monaco—all of it.

ex-husband!nanami who you had never been able to turn down whenever he stayed over just a little later after dropping the baby back off with you. the two of you would sit on the couch and catch up over a glass of wine. then one glass turned to two, then two to three. and for a minute it would almost feel as if you were still married.

nanami never ended up leaving until the late hours of the night. by which point you began to wonder where he’d gotten all the free time he couldn’t seem to find when you were actually married.

ex-husband!nanami who internally scoffed whenever you mentioned going on a date with another man.

“do you think you could watch her on saturday? i’ve got a date i really don’t wanna miss.” you’d asked at the tail end of an already too long (thirty minute) phone call.

nanami breathed a recognizable, pensive sigh on the other end, chewing through what he’d earlier told you was tempura, but considering how long it was taking him to answer, it may as well have been your nerves.

“you know i will, but, uh,” you heard him swallow. “a date?”

although your ex-husband didn’t exactly sound like he was joking, you couldn’t help the giggle that vibrated through your body. glancing at the clock on your nightstand that read eight-thirty and the baby sleeping soundly in the crib next to your bed, you propped the house phone between your ear and shoulder. what was the harm in killing another thirty minutes?

“yes, kento, a date. his name is scott. he’s an art dealer. i think you’d like him.”

“does scott know you’re still married?”

“separated,” you corrected him. “and no, he doesn’t. do you tell every woman who asks you out that you’re married?”

nanami hesitated for a second before answering, “yes, i do.”

ex-husband!nanami who came to your house with flowers and a store bought pumpkin pie for thanksgiving. more than you’d like to admit, you liked having him around for the holidays. he was so good with the baby, and so attentive to everything else. cleaning up all the leftovers and stray baby toys as the night came to an end.

it was nearing ten o’clock when he had successfully put the baby to sleep, and then came down to help you tidy up the downstairs. “y’know you didn’t have to buy a pie, right?” you told him after you’d discovered it hidden amongst the array of leftover pots and aluminum pans. “i know it’s your favorite. i’d have made you some.”

nanami brought his task at hand (loading the dishwasher) to a stiff halt and joined you at the island countertop. “but hey,” you added, tearing the lid off the pie. “we could see if it’s as good as the real thing.”

your ex-husband, usually the most well-spoken man you knew, could only stiffly nod in your direction while you retrieved a pair of shiny silver forks, still in the drawer they’d always been in. “and i got some whipped cream if you want.” you added as you gave him a fork, now taken aback by his sudden lack of speech. seriously, he hadn’t spoken this little since the year leading up to your separation.

what you didn’t know was that nanami couldn’t speak if he wanted to. he needed this. the three of you hadn’t had a real holiday together since last halloween, and even that was admittedly very bleak. “i miss you,” nanami blurted.

and he did. he missed your desserts for every holiday—savory pumpkin pie for thanksgiving, sweet apple pie for christmas, strawberry eclairs for valentine’s day. he missed opening his eyes every morning to the sight of your face smushed into a pillow, or a bit of drool gathering at the corner of your mouth. he missed coming home from work to the sight of you and the baby sound asleep on the couch. he missed being your husband, and even more knowing you were his wife.

ex-husband!nanami who spent the night fucking his ex-wife into the couch as though they were still married. wrapping you in his strong arms, while murmuring promises of change and betterment. “i’ll never go to work again, swear,” he said, shuddering between deep thrusts. “please just take me back, baby.”

[snaileer]

Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3

Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)

The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.

He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, “Oh feel free to continue arguing my morality like I’m an object, my music’s on full volume.”

Dick looked uncomfortable, “We weren’t-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why you’re…. here,” Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if they’d share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.

“Surely the world could have done without a second Drake,” Damian cut in before Danny could even start.

“And we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,” Danny glared, “Factory defects and all.”

Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.

Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Tim’s phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, “I have a list, if you want it.”

He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.

To Do in Gotham:

1. Get to Gotham

2. Find original - don’t freak family out

3. -Find- Talk to Bruce

4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox

5. Get safe house

6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)

7.

8.

9. Leave?

“What’s number seven and eight?” Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didn’t change.

“Don’t know yet,” He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didn’t believe him.

Didn’t matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.

Bat guilty.

About time he believed him about something.

And Danny didn’t care about Damian’s opinions one way or another.

He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, “Welp that’s it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I don’t think Vicki will accept my ‘you got new legs Lieutenant Dan-ny’ joke, all that,”

Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, “All’s well in Clone Town!”

Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.

Number 7: Find Ra’s Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.

Number 8: Stabilize yourself.

Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.

—

Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jeweler’s store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.

He was making Tim’s life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.

Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.

Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.

He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.

The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Tim’s by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.

Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.

“You could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?”

Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.

“Thought it was best to stay out of sight. We’re not exactly a daylight hero.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “Already annoyed with Vicki Vale?”

Tim nearly growled, “That is your fault,”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it’s not hilarious.”

“You’ve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!”

“Lucius can handle them. It’s not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.”

Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.

Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Fine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?”

“Yes.”

“I am not staying in the manor. You can’t make me.”

Dread filled him as Tim smiled, “Not a problem.”

Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, “This is so not what I meant and you know it.”

Tim’s face betrayed nothing, “Look, none of us are happy with this situation-“

Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.

“But..” Tim continued with a pointed look, “It’s my fault, and I get that. So…compromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when I’m done, we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”

Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.

“Fine.”

Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, “Ok, here’s my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- I’ll take this,” he plucks the phone from Danny’s hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Danny’s glare, “Thank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy who…”

Tim’s voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.

Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Danny’s suit still didn’t have.

Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.

Danny slouched further into the silence.

It felt like being left behind by his parents.

They had bigger priorities.

Archaeology.

Ghosts.

Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.

He’s nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.

The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.

The officer assigned to the case is a vet.

The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.

The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.

The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.

Best of all?

It’s not in Gotham.

Danny smiles as Ted Tobin’s plan fills in, piece by piece.

—

Ra’s Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.

Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officer’s life the night before his case-closing arrest?

—

“Detective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,” Ra’s’ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, “It seems I was wrong.”

“Oh well, you know me…,” The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, “Always butting into things when I shouldn’t. It’s kind of what we do.”

“Tell me, Timothy,” Ra’s says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, “What does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-“ Ra’s pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.

“Well, we’ll start there. First of all, as I’m sure you just found out, I’m not Timothy,” Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Ra’s gives him as he turns around. “And secondly, the officer wasn’t what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.” Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.

Ra’s al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?”

“You are curious. So much like the detective, and yet… my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.”

Danny scoffs, “Oh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.”

Ra’s’ stare doesn’t change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.

“You wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Ra’s?” Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. “The difference between me and him,” When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, “Is that I’m stronger.”

—

Bonus Scene:

Dick stared at Tim’s clone as he left, sweeping past the original’s bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.

“Are we sure he’s Drake’s clone? He seems… less of a fool,” Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.

He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.

Damian turned back to his breakfast, “I retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.”

[alexlwrites]

from my notes app:

Just picture it: Yoongi who just... never had a crush. Sure, he has felt attraction that sometimes evolved into something more through dates or other encounters. But a crush? Feet kicking, face blushing, giddy giggles? No, he couldn't say he ever experienced that.

Until you.

Until you showed up, a new manager at the company, and left him shaking in his disconcertingly large boots. You were bright, witty, charismatic and hard working and he stood there, arms hanging by his side awkwardly like a damn emoji, hovering around you unsure about what to do, what to say, how to act.

It was so frustrating! He never felt this way before and at 30 years old he felt as if he was going through a late puberty: voice cracking when he tried talking to you, waking up sweating from a dream way too realistic, poorly timed boners when he saw you walking around the office with skin tight pencil skirts.

His so called friend weren't making it any easier for him: Yoongi had officially become the butt of every joke as the members collectively regressed back to the 5th grade, murmuring everytime you showed up "here comes your wife, hyung, here comes Mrs. Suga".

Thankfully, you seemed unaware of their jabs, even as yoongi's pale cheeks blushed fiercely at the name.

He didn't know whether to be greatful or resentful for your obliviousness. On one side, you didn’t seem to hear the constant on going teasing from the other 6 raccoons he shared a band with, which saved yoongi from the swift death at the pearly hands of embarrassment, ripping his dramatic soul from his even more dramatic body.

On the other hand, you couldn’t seem to take a hint! He tried all of his best moves: standing there silently next to you, offering you a single tangerine, playing the guitar when you walked in whilst offering absolutely no explanation or context, even wearing his most scandalous, whorish outfit: a white tshirt that showed his collarbones instead of his usual 37 layers of clothing.

He didn't know how to make it any more obvious! Should he just take you against the wall of his studio (he totally should!, his lower brain unhelpfully provided as you once again strutted past him leaving him sniffing after your perfume like the fucking dog he was)?

He even tried asking his friends for advice, the lowest form of humiliation possible: Jungkook offered only baby oil and told him to lose a couple buttons. Hoseok made him couple matching beaded bracelets. And Namjoon, scorpio venus horndog, told him to actually go through with the wall taking idea.

Funnily enough, Jin was the one with the most plausible idea: give her a gift, bake her something! Homemade goods would show her how much you care.

So there he was, at thirty years old, holding onto a plate of cookies like a lifeline, cold sweating in front of your office, ready to flee the building and suck up those cookies like a hungry Kirby and mop in his own lameness like the international grammy nominee celebrity he was.

And then you opened the door and his body just reacted on his own, thrusting the plate towards you silently as his eyes screamed pure panic.

"For me?" You asked and he just nodded "Thank you so much, you are so sweet!"

Yoongi felt his lips curving and even without a mirror he could tell he had a dumbstruck smile on his face.

"What's the occasion?"

Ask her out, he urged himself. Tell her how you feel, how you can't stop thinking about her face, how her smile fuled his daydreams and her perfume haunts his days, bleeding into his psyche and sinking its claws into his heart, turning every song he wrote into a proclamation of adoration and lust, tell her how...

"Hm, for all y-your hard wo-work" he sputtered, mentally face palming himself at his own words.

Bugger.

Bugger it all to hell.

(Part 2>>>)

[theemporium]

Could you possibly write something for Nico where he dates shy reader and he is all lovey dovey with her post game win when they celebrate together? Perhaps she wears his jersey? Thank you for considering. 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to support Nico, it was more so the fact the games were a lot more intense and intimidating when you were in person.

You watched every game without fail, though usually it was from the comfort of your own couch whilst you were buried in one of his hoodies. And despite what people assumed, he didn’t mind. He knew you supported him. He knew that the second the game was over, you would be on the phone to him to tell him exactly what you thought of the game, always complementing the way he played regardless of whether the Devils won or lost.

And he knew games in person weren’t really your thing. You didn’t like the attention of being sat by the glass and, even though you got along with the other players’ families and friends, it still felt a little intense to be in a suite with them for the whole game. You didn’t like the pressure of having to keep up friendly small talk during the game, but Nico knew you would because you would have felt bad otherwise. 

So, in all honesty, he didn’t mind that you didn’t go to his games. 

But there was something that made his heart want to burst out of his chest on the games you did attend in person. 

“Fuck you, Panthers!” 

Nico huffed out a laugh, shaking his head at Jack’s antics. The boy was already one too many drinks deep into their post-game celebration after—by some miraculous turn of events—thrashing the Panthers on Jersey soil with a buzzing 6-1. 

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” Nico teased, but the boy didn’t care as he grinned widely at his captain. 

“Give it a break, Cap, go back to making heart eyes at your girl!” Jack snickered, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. He didn’t think Nico had let go of you since he had stepped out of the locker room. “We fucking broke the streak! We are allowed to celebrate!”

“Let him have his fun,” you said, your arms tightening to gain your boyfriend’s attention as he tore his eyes away from Jack to look down at you. His gaze softened in an instant and it made your stomach erupt with butterflies. “You all deserve to celebrate the win after the rough streak.” 

“Hm, maybe we won because you were here,” Nico teased, though there was a sincerity in his words that made you think he truly believed his own words. “Wanna come to Montreal with us?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Today was all you, I had nothing to do with it.”

“I don’t know about that,” Nico said with a massive smile on his lips as his fingers playfully tugged on the hem of the jersey you were wearing. “We lost the last five games until my girl walked in with her lucky jersey on. I think that’s all the proof we need.”

Your cheeks burned as you glanced down at the lucky jersey in question. It was an old jersey of his, maybe one from a year or two ago. He had given it to you near the start of your relationship, when he was leaving for his first roadie since you started seeing each other. You joked about buying some Devils merch to support him whilst you watched the games and he had handed you the jersey the night before he left. You wore it for every game you watched—or at least, you tried to. 

This had been the first game in a while you had worn it since you lost it in the process of moving apartments with Nico, into an apartment big enough for the two of you.

“You hockey players and your superstitions,” you murmured, tucking your chin against your chest to hide how flushed ‘my girl’ made you.

But Nico was one step ahead of you as his hands moved to cup your cheeks, lifting your head until he could look down at your flustered face with a soft smile. “I heard kissing the captain after a win gives the team good luck for their next.”

You laughed and his expression brightened. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an old hockey legend,” Nico nodded. 

“Well, you gotta kiss him now!” Jack exclaimed from the other side of the table. “We need the luck!”

You laughed harder as you wrapped your arms around his waist once again and grinned up at him. “I think I can get behind that superstition.”

And Nico barely gave you a chance to finish your sentence before he leaned down to kiss you, his smile pressed against yours.

.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Day 6: Spanking

Warnings: Smut, jealousy, spanking, reader calls James sir once I think, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Kinktober

You didn't think he'd go through with it, not really. Now you were laying over his lap, wrists tied with his belt above your head, ass red and stinging.

"Did we learn our lesson, sweetheart?" James asked, voice low. One of his hands smoothed over your ass, massaging the sore red mark he'd left.

James had been stressed out with Lars and everything, he needed some release, some stress relief, literally anything, but he always refused your advances.

"Come on, Jamie, you'll feel better, you know you will." You'd said, straddling his lap as he laid on his back in bed, arms folded over his face.

"Not the time." He grumbled, reaching down and pushing you off of him.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "Do it for me, then?" You asked, moving to lay closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with a pout and big eyes.

He shot you a look that said shut up and you dropped it.

Nothing worked, you needed something that would work, and what you could always count on was his jealousy.

You knew he was at the studio so you went down, bringing food with you to pretend you were just coming by for lunch.

You made a point to sit closer to Lars, keeping your eyes on him over James. Maybe Lars was the wrong person to focus on because you could tell right away James was pissed.

He didn't say anything because he couldn't, there was nothing to say because you weren't doing anything. You were laughing at his jokes a little louder than needed, touching his arm, his knee, up his thigh...

The last straw was seeing you throw your legs over Lars's lap and throwing an arm over his shoulder.

James grabbed your wrist and pulled you to your feet, Kirk tried to stop him from leaving but didn't bother trying all too hard, only calling out a few times before leaning back in his chair, giving up.

James dragged you down to the parking lot and threw you into his truck.

"I-I came in the car." You said, looking farther down the lane.

"You can get it another time." He grumbled before pulling out of the parking spot.

Which brought you to now, laying over his lap and trying your best not to lose track of how many times his hand had come down on you.

"M'sorry, sir." You mumbled, looking back at him, teary eyes and wet cheeks.

"Mh, yeah." He mused, rubbing your stinging cheek. "Sorry doesn't cut it anymore, does it?" He brought his hand up again. "Out loud." He said before spanking you.

twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three all the way up to thirty, one right after the other, not even leaving a break for you to catch your breath.

You counted each one, making sure he heard you through your sniffles and whines.

James's hand came down on you a last time before rubbing your cheek in a soothing motion. "How many?" He asked, using his other hand to brush some hair out of your face.

"Thirty..." You muttered.

"Thirty?" He repeated. "Sweetheart, is that your final answer?" He asked, raising his hand up again in a warning gesture.

You swore it was thirty, did you count too few, too many? What were you missing? "Thirty-one..?" You answered hesitantly.

His hand came down again. "Need to be more confident in your first answer, darling." He chuckled lowly.

[everythingisromant1c]

It's Always Been You - Chapter 6

james potter x fem!reader

summary - Maybe it was an attempt to get over him, or maybe it was just from embarrassment, but you'd decided to avoid James. The only problem was, your best friend was making that very, very difficult to do.

wc [4.6k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 5 - Chapter 7 ->

The weekend had ended without excitement, if you don't count kissing your best friend and practically getting rejected by said best friend the next day to be excitement.

As much as you willed it not to, the events of the past two days played in your mind well into Monday, perhaps being the reason why you skipped out on breakfast in the Great Hall and showed up to Defense Against the Dark Arts with hardly a minute to spare before class started.

Your professor this year, Professor Higglebottom, silly as her name was, was the adventurous type and always started class with some hands-on interaction. That's why you all crowded against the walls instead of taking a seat at one of the desks in the front of the room.

You were sandwiched between Marlene and Sirius, the latter you knew was trying to get you to respond to his whispers. You weren't much in the mood for whatever kind of conversation he was trying to spark up, especially not after the one you'd had with him last night that you most definitely did not lose sleep over.

"Alright class," your professor announced. Her bob haircut bounced lightly as she took quick circling steps before your class's waiting eyes. "Let's begin with a quick review of last week's shielding charm. Pair up with a classmate and practice, and no harmful hexes this time, yes?"

With a snicker from across the room, Higglebottom waved her wand and the desks all gracefully swept into organized rows against the far wall, leaving the center of the room open for spell practice.

Within the blink of an eye half the room had begun to shuffle around in search of a partner, and it hit you with a surge in your chest that you and James always paired up in this class. You stayed rooted in your spot against the wall for a second, looking around amongst the chaos. Sure enough, that head of curls and those eyes like honey were on the other side of the room, searching the crowd for someone—for you.

Maybe you weren't exactly thinking in that moment, but you acted before you had time to consider much of anything.

"Hey Alice!" your voice was raised to almost a shout that alarmed even you, and Alice turned to you in surprise.

"Hey," she said, and before she could get another word out you were practically running to her.

"Could we be partners?"

You figured that it might've been the desperate look in your eyes that had her nodding yes, but it didn't matter because at least you didn't have to pair up with James. Facing that awkwardness and ignoring the twinge in your chest whenever you saw him seemed impossible right then.

You walked over to the front left corner of the room with Alice, catching James in your peripheral. He was watching you, you knew he was. It only made avoiding him even more difficult in your heart.

You began practicing with Alice as Higglebottom instructed, though you put up your shielding charm with just a fraction of a second left before Alice's stunning spell would've sent you flying.

"Woah," she said, and you took a second to shake out your arm before preparing for the next round. "You alright?"

"What?" you asked, half listening. "Yeah. Just slow reflexes, I guess. Sorry." She sent another shining blue stream at you from her wand. "Protego!"

This time you blocked it properly, but it didn't leave Alice feeling satisfied.

"It's just," she began, flicking her wand again wordlessly. "Don't you usually partner up with Potter?"

You tried your best to contain any reaction, focusing on saying the spells as instructed. You shrugged. "I don't know, I wouldn't say always."

Alice laughed. "Okay, so ninety-nine out of a hundred times, then." You gave her a look that was half joking half annoyed, and she smiled with a tilt of her and a gesture that said it was your turn to aim some spells her way. You flicked your wand with a wordless spell, and she put up her shield in no time, continuing. "I was just wondering if everything was okay, is all."

"No, yeah, everything's fine." Your shoulders felt tense as you sent out another spell. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, for one thing, he keeps looking over here." As much as you tried not to let her words affect you, the thought of them made your heart race and your forehead crinkle anxiously.

You shook your head busily, lips tight. "Don't know why he would be." That was a lie of course, and you knew it deep in your bones as you said it. You fought the urge to ask her exactly how he was looking at you as you sent another spell her way. "Rictusempra!"

Alice deflected the spell with yet another shield from her wand, and you could feel your focus slipping from you with every exchange between the two of you on the topic. "Maybe he wants to talk to you?" she reasoned, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

"I'd rather not." With that, you prepared another spell.

Alice glanced at something somewhere behind you. "Well he's coming this way."

"What?"

You panicked, and your spell shot completely in the wrong direction, aiming diagonally at Higglebottom's desk instead. You cringed as your gust of wind had a stack of papers go flying, falling through the air without any grace.

Everyone in the room stopped their dueling at the commotion, and Higglebottom let out a tiny gasp from her position across the room. You stood there, stunned. But somehow, the most mortifying part of it to you was the sight of James watching it all unfold a few feet away from you, looking like he both wanted to laugh and ask you a thousand questions that you didn't know the answer to.

"Well, that's alright," rang Higglebottom, and you could've ran up and hugged her when she clapped her hands and made everyone go back to practicing spells. That included James, who wandered back over to a smug looking Sirius. She daintily pointed her wand towards the mess and it was cleaned up in a matter of seconds, though your embarrassment lingered deep in the pit of your stomach and refused to leave you.

Your professor had spent the rest of the class going over proper spell-casting stances and dueling strategies, and you'd found that the more you focused on your classes, the less your head seemed to run amuck with thoughts of a certain someone.

You'd spent the rest of rest of the day doing just that, paying attention to your professors' lessons for every class like your life depended on it, and speeding off in between each one.

By the time you made it to Potions you felt like your mind was finally calming down, though the world loved to test your patience. You had to walk straight past James on your way to your seat—the seat that was right in front of his—and he didn't give you the grace of pretending not to see you. His eyes followed you the whole way to your seat, and somehow it felt like you could still feel them lingering on the back of your head as you sat down. You sighed; if he could do you the favor of picking up on your attempt to get over him and just go along with it, your life would be a whole lot easier.

"You alright?"

You turned to see Sebastian sitting in his seat next to you, looking as dashing as ever with his tie undone from the uncharacteristically warm weather that day. The fact hadn't left you that Sebastian was apparently a top prospect for girls in your year looking to find a date.

He looked at you with concern, though his expression was still warm. He was the second person to ask you that that day.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said back, though the way he looked at you made you feel suddenly insecure. You patted at the back of your hair. "Do I not look it?"

"No, no," came Sebastian quickly, laughing slightly. "You look great. Trust me."

From the way his eyes hovered over you, you felt like both hiding from embarrassment and blushing. You were about to thank him until Slughorn stood up from his desk, tone somewhat more bubbly than usual as he spoke.

"Say, my eager students," he began, and you felt the class collectively sigh from around you. "The air does feel fitting for some friendly competition today, does it not?"

With his statement, the room seemed to perk up from their afternoon drag, though you felt a sense of dread settle into your stomach. The word "competition" said in a room full of Gryffindors and Slytherins was practically a death sentence. Slughorn didn't pay it any mind.

"Each brewing station should prepare a Wound-Cleaning Potion within the hour, and I'll determine the most well-brewed potion by the end of class. The winning group gets five points extra credit."

If the prospect of competition didn't scare you already, the fact that you were never any good at Potions definitely did the job. Sebastian turned to you with an optimistic grin on his face, something casual and confident, all while you felt the exact opposite.

"Don't be so worried," he said, like he could read from your face how you felt already. "We're gonna do great. Half the others can't even talk to each other without ... that happening."

He nodded over to where Sirius and Slytherin Quidditch Captain Marcus Craggy were already arguing, practically shoving each other as they both stood up to get ingredients.

You snorted into your hand. "Maybe you're right."

Between the two of you, you sorted out a plan of action and went to get the ingredients while Sebastian tended to warming the cauldron. If your staying-hyper-focused strategy went according to plan, you had confidence that with Sebastian's Potions skills you could actually do well.

You measured out the proper amount of the necessary ingredients, taking what you needed from the stacks of shelves aligning the classroom wall. You handed off the jar of dandelion root to a girl next to you before turning around, but that was when you turned right into a body.

You looked up. It was James—of course it was. You knew for a fact you did a horrible job at hiding your alarm, but were still in your ignore-your-feelings-and-focus-on-school mood so you didn't think twice before awkwardly avoiding looking into his eyes.

"Sorry," you said quickly. You briefly smiled at him, though you were sure you looked anything but casual.

"It's okay-" he began, his voice fading away as you rushed past him within a second.

You felt horrible.

Focus, focus, focus. When you returned back to your table and a waiting Sebastian, you did just that.

He naturally took the lead, since you didn't know the first thing about brewing a Wound-Cleaning Potion, but he was surprisingly understanding and explained each step in a way that made more sense than anything Slughorn had ever said. There weren't even any of the usual slip-ups that happen when you brew a potion yourself, though you couldn't say the same for the groups around you.

About halfway through class you peaked over to where Sirius and Marcus Craggy were working and saw the monstrosity that was their cauldron bubbling over the surface, a swampy green that most certainly was not the right color.

You heard a mousy laugh come from behind them, Peter giggling at the sight of his friend's failure. Within a second his own partner yelled his name, and with a terrified look he focused back on his own potion. It was safe to say your group was working better than any of your friends'.

In no time you were all finishing up your potions and Slughorn had begun coming around to review them, hands tucked behind his back like a true judge.

The first cauldron he'd surveyed belonged to Frank Longbottom and a red-haired Slytherin girl who you knew Alice was uneasy over. And, now that you got a good look at her, you could see she was the same girl you heard whispering about you and James's supposed broom closet snogging. So maybe the slight amusement you felt when Slughorn looked at her and Frank's cauldron and immediately grimaced wasn't completely impersonal.

He did the same to a few other groups, granting some an impressed nod until he finally reached your table. He gave Sebastian an enthusiastic and familiar smile, and nodded at you without any particular warmth, which you ignored.

The two of you stepped back and watched as Slughorn leaned over the side of the cauldron, peering it into it wordlessly. Sebastian glanced at you from the corner of his eye with a curious look and you fought a smile.

When you turned back to your potion, Slughorn's face was lit up satisfactorily. He clapped his hands together. "Splendid! Absolutely splendid."

You felt like you were hearing wrong, like words as positive as those could've never come from Slughorn in regards to you, but sure enough, he was talking directly to you. You were definitely sure you were dreaming then.

"Say, I believe we may have found our winners!"

Your jaw was hanging then, and Sebastian was beaming proudly. You were about to turn to him and celebrate, when a Gryffindor boy at a table in the corner of the room shouted out in protest.

"You didn't even look at the last three groups!"

Slughorn turned to him at first in alarm, but then his expression then morphed into a tightlipped smile you could tell was meant to be sympathetic. "I'm sorry dear boy, but I can see from here they're all the wrong color." He scanned the row of cauldrons behind you. "I can also smell them."

The room chuckled at that, and Slughorn turned back to you and Sebastian unbothered and cheerful.

"I expected nothing less from one of my star students, yes?" He shook Sebastian's hand firmly like he was an old family friend, and then, to your surprise, held out his hand to you too. You took it, feeling suspicious of how well this was going. "Very impressive work today." He smiled at you more authentically then you'd ever seen him smile at you, and you felt like bursting from happiness, though you watered it down to a prompt "Thank you."

"You two pat yourselves on the back," said Slughorn, regarding you both one last time before taking his leave.

You turned slowly to Sebastian, sporting the biggest smile you'd worn in days. The groups that weren't as upset over the loss clapped lightly from around the room, and you were so happy you could've literally jumped for joy.

"We did it!" You looked at Sebastian, and he was grinning down at you with a smile that met his eyes, looking half like he wanted to laugh at your overexcitement. You were so happy you even ran up and hugged him, not exactly thinking before you did it but it didn't matter because he hugged you back, chuckling.

Right before you went to pull away, you heard a bubbling noise coming from next to you. It grew, rumbling and groaning, and not a second more went by before the potion behind yours splattered all over.

You both stepped only slightly back before the mess reached you. You were lucky you were standing where you were, because most of the potion got on Sebastian instead. That didn't change the fact that it made an absolute mess.

"Goodness!" Slughorn shouted, and you stepped away from Sebastian right away, scanning over the mess the cauldron had made. A blue-gray goo covered the left half of his shirt, not an insane mess but still a concerning amount of slimy potion to be covered in.

You turned to the table who'd been sitting behind you, and realized with a sense of both dread and annoyance that it had been James's cauldron to explode.

You looked at him in dismay as he stood there, backed away from the table like the explosion had come completely as a surprise to him. But, judging from the way he took in Sebastian's appearance without so much as a grimace, it very well could've been just the opposite.

James's table partner, the Slytherin boy on the smaller side, looked beyond mortified. "Oh Merlin," he began, arms outstretched towards Sebastian. "We're so sorry, I don't know what happened, I-"

"Now, now," Slughorn interrupted, moving swiftly over to where the mess was. With a face that showed he was trying very hard not to react, he pulled out his wand and muttered a spell that cleaned up the mess from the desks and floor, and another one for Sebastian's shirt.

"That should take care of the mess, though I do recommend you pay Madam Pomfrey a visit, Sebastian. The possible side effects of an improperly-brewed potion are quite impossible to determine externally." He patted Sebastian on the back, who looked not angry but dazed, if anything, and turned to James and his partner. "And as for you two, pay better mind for what ingredients you're using. Next time, I won't be so kind about cleaning up for you."

They both nodded obediently, James wearing the placating face he always did when confronted by a teacher, and staring down at his feet. Was he ashamed? Hiding laughter? You couldn't tell, but certainly had suspicions, knowing his dislike of Sebastian for some unidentifiable reason.

Slughorn dismissed the class, and Sebastian gathered his things to go to what you assumed would be the nurse's office.

"Let me go with you," you said.

He turned to you in surprise, shrugging his bag over his shoulder. "Oh, don't worry about it."

"It's no problem, really." You smiled at him assuredly and he let in, waiting for you to get your things and walk with him out of the classroom. "Are you okay?" you asked once you turned the corner. "The color of that potion was definitely concerning."

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Or at least, I feel okay."

"Good."

The two of you walked in silence for a moment, and you let your thoughts drift to the class you'd just finished, and how amazing and odd it felt to get a handshake from Slughorn. Soon you found a smile creeping into your cheeks.

"Are you laughing at me?"

You escaped your daydreaming, whipping your head to Sebastian who was looking at you with a disbelieving smile of his own. "What? No! Of course not," you assured him, shaking your head rapidly. "I'm just really happy our potion did so well."

"Yeah, me too."

"I mean seriously, I don't think I've ever smiled so much in a Potions class. Or that Slughorn's ever said anything that nice to me." And you meant it. Visions of nights spent practically crying over a bad potions grade flashed through your mind.

"Well," Sebastian began, eyes looking down at yours with fondness. "You deserve it."

You looked back at him, feeling like he really meant those words. A kind of odd feeling simmered in your chest, but it was warm and you invited it as you kept walking beside him.

"Hey," he began again after a beat, shifting his attention fully to you. "I've been meaning to ask you something-"

"Can we talk?"

Both of you stopped as you reached the staircase at the end of the hall and, somehow, there stood James. He was looking at you with an intention behind his eyes that flickered over you like he hadn't noticed Sebastian was with you at all.

You frowned at him, eyes glancing between both he and Sebastian in both shyness and irritation. "You know, I'm kind of in the middle of something-"

"It's an emergency." James leaned closer, eyes wide. "About the you know what."

You did not 'know what,' but James didn't seem to pick up on that. Your confusion only extended the interaction and had Sebastian stepping away.

"It's okay," he said to you with a neutral tug of his lips. "I'll talk to you later." Before you could tell him it was fine, that you wanted to hear what he had to ask you, he'd smiled and turned to climbed up the steps, leaving you alone with James.

You turned fully to face him, your irritation masking whatever nervousness you felt at finally looking him in the eyes. "What kind of 'emergency' was so important that you had to interrupt my conversation with-"

"Sebastian Vance. I know." He said his name like it was a chore, and it only had your forehead creasing even more. "There's, um, a problem with the prank."

"Really?" you deadpanned, staring at him blankly. "That was the emergency that couldn't wait?"

"You haven't let me finish," argued James defensively.

"Okay," you added, tone impatient as you motioned for him to continue.

"Wormtail lost the list of passcodes to the Slytherin common room." He ended his sentence as if there was more that he wanted to say, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"And?"

"And ... we were wondering if you could find a way to get them from Vance."

"What?!" you shouted, lowering your voice when you realized how loud you were being. "No, have you gone mad?"

"Oh, come on," James said, tone much too lax for your liking.

"You really expect me to trick my friend into letting us prank him?"

James let out a huff that sounded like a scoff, raising his brows at you. "Oh really? He's your friend now?"

"Yeah, he is." You crossed your arms, staring at him disbelievingly. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem." James shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, peering somewhere down below and not at you. "Just didn't know you guys were so close, is all."

Something about the way he spoke was infuriating you, tone casual but clearly masking judgement, as if he had any kind of control over who you could and couldn't speak to.

You scoffed. "Why are you being so weird about this?"

"I'm not."

"Really?" you deadpanned. "You interrupted my conversation with him when I was trying to walk him to the nurse after your potion exploded all over him, right after we won-"

"You don't really think I did that on purpose, do you?"

"I don't know!" you shouted. "With your house rivalry, and the way you lot are so obsessed with pranking people-"

"'You lot'?"

You stopped, realizing how much this was escalating when you really didn't want it to be. You pressed a hand to your forehead. "Sorry that's... that's not fair." You shook your head, as if doing that would rid you of the mess that was your mind right then. You hated arguing with James. "I'm just annoyed right now, is all."

"Yeah," James said with a nod, voice quieted. "Look," he breathed. "I'm sorry I interrupted you. And I really didn't mean for my potion to go exploding all over the place. I don't know what happened. I guess I was just ... distracted, or something, when we were brewing it. I'm sorry."

You let your eyes scan over his face, noting that he truly did look sorry. Something churned in your gut, something that you filed away as uninportant in that moment. "It's alright," you sighed.  "Although, it's not really me you should be apologizing to."

It took him a second before he caught what you were referring to, him realizing with a look to the side and a half-laugh. "Yeah right."

"James." You gave him a warning look, and he raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright. I'll apologize to him."

You uncrossed your arms, feeling a bit better. "Thank you."

He tipped his head in acknowledgment, and you stood there for a moment debating if there was anything more to be said, knowing in the back of your mind that there certainly was, but you took a step up the stairs anyway.

"Wait." James took a light hold on your wrist that seemed to burn right through the skin, the contact making you feel unstable on the steps. "That's ... that's not all I wanted to talk to you about."

You stilled, glancing over his unsure expression. "Oh, okay." You waited for him to say something, but he stayed silent, out of character for him. He didn't meet your eyes as he thought, throat bobbing. "James?"

"Are we okay?"

He looked up and into your eyes then, the motion striking you as you were more level with him now from your stance on the step.

You felt your heart rate pick up. "What?"

He drew his hand away finally to run it uneasily through his curls. "I just feel like you're ..." He trailed off, voice going soft.

"Like I'm what?"Slightly heartbroken? Avoiding you? You knew exactly what he meant, of course, and it was eating away at you to lie straight to him.

"It's nothing." He waved a hand, though you could sense his seriousness in the tenseness of his stance and the darting of his eyes. "I just wanna make sure everything's alright between us."

You nodded because you felt the same way, though you knew the answer. "Yeah, I get that."

He looked expectantly at you, eyes intent but not prying. "So, is it?"

A beat went by before you could answer, your throat going dry with the effort of your lie. "Yeah," you assured him. "Of course."

He seemed to visibly relax, and the way his features softened made your shoulders sink. "Good. Great."

Were you a bad person for this? Maybe. Probably. But avoiding him had felt like best coarse of action and the only way to get by, at least for the time being. You knew, or hoped, that eventually things would go back to normal. Or rather, the 'normal' that existed before you ever had feelings for James, if that even really existed.

He offered you a smile of his pink lips that eased your thoughts even if only for a moment. Then, he leaned in and hugged you, and you felt like melting for too many reasons. You were at a height that let one of his curls brush against your cheek just like it did the night you kissed him—ignore, ignore, ignore—only, you weren't sure how much longer you could keep doing that.

If you weren't going to avoid James all together anymore, than you'd have to just avoid certain situations; situations like this, where you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your own, something dizzying yet comforting in a way that made you want to hide in your dorm.

You pulled away, reminding yourself that hugging him was the last thing you should be doing, and turned towards the steps again. "Let's go find the guys, figure out all this prank business."

"Good idea," James said, who followed you up the stairs without missing a beat. You hadn't reached the top step before he froze, ending up a few steps behind you.

"Crap," he cursed.

You frowned down at him. "What's the matter?"

"I just remembered that I booked the Quidditch pitch for this time."

Your jaw dropped for a second, lips curling up at the stupefied look on his face. You waved your hand towards the top of the steps. "Well then, go! Hurry!"

James's face set in with a hilariously determined expression and he set off up the steps in a jumble of robes mixed with his bag hanging limply off his shoulder. He passed you with ease, zooming off down the hallway.

"See you!" he called. He turned over his shoulder with a grin before disappearing around the corner, and your heart hurt at how easily laughter came to you around him. Because he's your best friend.

You reminded yourself of that fact with a small but stern nod, probably looking like you'd lost your mind standing alone in that hallway. It didn't matter, because you were going to keep those thoughts out of your mind from then on, and that was the end of that. Or, at least that was what you told yourself all the way back to the common room.

taglist!!

@hisparentsgallerryy @msmk11

[avianyuh]

Boring | Min Yoongi

Chapter Two

Summary:The next morning, you're back in the office and your friend wants details. You expect that things will go back to normal between you and Yoongi, after all, nothing really happened...

Chapters; [one] [two]

“I can't believe he made you stay at the office until 11 o'clock at night! I was so worried when you never left the building, I waited for you but you weren’t answering your phone.”, Gina, one of your two work friends probed as you recited your night to her in the break room the next morning. You stirred your coffee with one of those disposable sticks to make sure the cream and sugar get dissolved. Gina had noticed that you hadn't left when everyone else did. “How in the world did you spend that long around that guy? He's so quiet and, don't hate me for saying this but…he's boring.”, you found the sentiment outdated knowing what you know now. You walked out of the break room and back towards your cubicle. You glanced towards his office, but you couldn't see inside since the blinds were still shut. You weren't sure if his meeting with Mr.Smith and his people had started yet, or if Yoongi had even arrived at the office. You hoped that everything went well and Yoongi was able to keep his cool since there were quite a few times last night where you both got a little worked up at the sheer audacity the other party had to spring such a huge revamp of the file on you so last minute. At the end of your night with Yoongi, he was still feeling friendly. He had thanked you for staying and he even apologized for the things he had said, specifically threatening to make your job nonexistent by giving you no work assignments. But just like on the couch when you were eating, as you gathered your coat, bag and computer, there was…a moment between the two of you. You were heading for the door, but Yoongi seemed like he was trying to be a gentleman, so he leaned you to open the door. And, he got so close to your face, so when you turned to look at him, your lips were virtually touching.

You had looked up at him, but he was looking down at you. And just like how you were staring at his lips very briefly earlier that evening, now he was doing the same. His eyes darted from your lips, back to your own eyes. And you thought for a minute you had gone crazy because dare you say, his eyes looked inviting? You weren't sure what to think of it but after a few seconds he seemed to snap himself out of whatever he was trying to do and backed away, clearing his throat and murmuring a very awkward, quiet Good Night. You did the same as you tried to play it cool and walk towards the elevator slowly, but deep inside you wanted to make a run for it. Not necessarily because you wanted to leave him, but because you weren't aware of how much more sexual tension you could continue to stir between the two of you before someone did something stupid that no employer should ever do with his employee.

However, you weren't going to mention the way you ended your night to Gina. Mainly because nothing technically happened, so really…there was nothing of importance to mention. “Listen Gina, I know we constantly joke that he has no soul, but I spent 6 hours locked in his office with him alone, and I actually had a good time. He's kinda funny if you get him to relax and sit down and talk with you.” Gina raised her eyebrow at you as she pursed her lips.

“You're excusing working unpaid overtime because he cracked a few jokes? What do you wanna date him or something?” she questioned, looking at you like you had grown two heads.

“Um, I was paid for the overtime and no I don't want to date him. What's wrong with giving someone a compliment? All I meant is that he's not as bad as we thought…which is a good thing because that means our opinions of him were wrong.” you looked at Gina, and noticed that she was rolling her eyes. “I feel a lot better knowing that he's not ALL about work, he actually has a life too like the rest of us.” Gina rolled her eyes at you before putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Girl you’re whipped for that man. I see you all the time giving him those lovey dovey eyes. But to the rest of us, he either completely ignores you unless he has to ask you something, or he gives you those glares if he sees you away from your desk.” You had heard those stories before from others. I guess he wasn’t found of the office chatter. But in your experience, he never bothered with you until yesterday, Gina claims he gave her one of his signature glares once and ever since she’s had a vendetta against him.

You shook your head at her as you approached your cubicle. “I think it’s because he has really intense eyes”, you giggled as Gina scoffed.

“Shut up. See, that’s something a person who’s whipped would say.” You settled down in your chair as you and Gina said your goodbyes until you’d see each other again at lunch. . You fully expected that Yoongi would go back to the way he had always treated you. And by that you meant that he wouldn't bother with you at all anymore. A part of you was sad to think about that because you truly did feel like you got to know him a little better. And you'd be lying if you didn't admit that you were intrigued by him. But on the other hand, the less delusional side if you knew it was all strictly business and that he was most likely only being nice to you to get more productive work out of you. And all the eye-lip contact could have been something you had imagined in a state of sleep deprivation mixed with your infatuation with your ridiculously attractive, mysterious boss. Who knows what was going on in his head. But you had to tell yourself that it was probably a one time occurrence and you had to move on. Well, that was until he came waltzing out of the elevator. Dressed just as fine as usual in one of his suits. He carried his briefcase with him and nodded as he heard the many Hellos being sent his way from all of the staff as he walked past their desks. And then, as if everything was going in slow motion, he glanced over at you and gave a subtle, close lipped smile in your direction. The eye contact felt intense and it felt like your body was sitting on pins and needles. The way he made you feel so jumpy, he did a better job of waking you up than any cup of coffee could. The interaction was at most three seconds, but that was more than enough for you to think that you had left an impression on him as well. The day went by fast. Thursdays were just as boring as Wednesdays considering you still had another full day until your leisurely weekend. You were packing up your things as Gina and your other office friend Hana waited for you.

“Hurry up Y/N”, Hana exclaimed, she was cranky because of her poor choice to wear new shoes that weren’t broken into to work. “My feet feel like they’re being stabbed!”, you laughed as you shoved your laptop into your bag, throwing it over your shoulder and turning to face your friends.

“Calm down, I’m ready.”, As the three of you walked toward the elevator, amongst the quiet side conversations about your afterwork plans, all of you turned around upon hearing someone clear their throat. And there he was. Min Yoongi stood a few feet away in the middle of the office aisle with his arms crossed.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but if I could borrow Y/N for a second.”, he asked, his voice low, his eyes on you the whole time.

“Oh-”, before you could reply, Gina cut you off.

“With no disrespect Sir, she gave you six hours of her time after work yesterday, I think the least you could do is let her go home at a normal time today…” Gina snapped and you nudged her arm, a silent back off. You looked at her and silently pleaded with your eyes for her to ease up and not make you look bad in front of him. The last thing you wanted was for Yoongi to think that you were bad mouthing him to your coworkers.

“No, it has nothing to do with staying after, but I would like to point out if Ms. Y/L/N hadn’t already explained, it was last minute for the both of us and Y/N was paid for all overtime.” Before Gina could respond and get all of you fired, you intervened.

“I did explain that, she’s just tired”, you let out a nervous laugh, “Listen, I’m sure this won’t take long, just wait for me outside, okay?”, you asked them as Hana dragged Gina towards the elevator. Once the doors were closed, you turned back to Yoongi. “I’m so sorry about that. She told me that she waited for a half an hour yesterday but I never came down so I think she’s holding a grudge from yesterday. “, you tried to explain as he waved you off.

“Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say thank you again, I was in and out of meetings all day which is why I didn’t come by sooner.”, You found it heart warming that he wanted to thank you again. You hoped in the back of your mind that this was his attempt at small talk again, but you weren’t sure.

“You don’t need to say thank you again, you were very kind and patient last night, plus you ordered food and everything. Honestly, I was just going to go home and watch TV anyways, it gave me something different to do for a night.”, you explained, noticing that your response seemed to put a smile on his face.

“So was I, that's always my after work routine.”, he responded. You averted your eyes, as his gaze felt like he was burning a hole into you.

“Well, if you need any more help, I’m available”, you said shyly as you started to back up towards the elevator.

“Noted”, he responded. He waved at you again before turning back around and walking back towards his office. But before you could press the button to close the doors, you heard him start talking again, “I have an assignment to give tomorrow morning, I’m coming in early tomorrow so come by when you get here.” You nodded at him and with that, he was out of your sight. And now you were really looking forward to tomorrow.

[ns-media]

Incredibly long analysis on Oda's thoughts on romance, way of portraying romance and LuNami in One Piece

Okay, so I want to make a LOOOOONG post about something interesting that's been on my mind for a while, about romance in One Piece. I was originally going to post it on Twitter but this post is way too long for that platform. I always preferred posting here, but not too many people are here nowadays. Anyway, onto the main topic here. I'll be talking about Oda's portrayal of and thoughts about romance, how he views it, why he puts a good chunk of it in "non-canon" material and so on. This post is to understand Oda's perspective on romance and why he goes about it the way he goes about it. I'm a LuNami fan, so this is also to make a point about how he decides to portray them.

Do not read this if you don’t want to see me express unfavorable opinions (and also factual information) about LuHan and other ships I just don't see working out, as they basically don’t fall in line with how romance works in Oda’s work. I'm not mean-spirited about it though. (Also I'll be bringing up SanPu for a bit too, in a favorable way) I am guaranteed to get at least one eyebrow raise or a "What the fuck are you talking about?" from any person reading this whole thing, but that's fine. I'll only tag LuNami because this is for LuNami fans.

Anyhow, in an interview with Aoyama back in 2022, Oda stated how he doesn’t want to include actual romance into his story and how he’s fine with one-sided stuff. His reason is because he fears he would lose certain fans for doing so. This is an interesting statement.

First, if you read this up here, it essentially confirms how Oda doesn’t see one-sided affection as romance so there’s no reason to think that Sanji or Boa’s affection are hints when they’re both for comedic effect.

The reason they're one-sided in the first place is not because he's teasing you with the idea that the other might return that affection one day, no he treats it as a joke, it's as straightforward as that. I don't understand how people try to act like it's not purely for humor. If he intended on making something like Boa and Luffy’s relationship as something to seriously consider being “romance” then Boa wouldn’t be so humorously delusional even after being rejected twice in back to back chapters, she’d be taken aback at the very least. But doesn’t. Why? It’s a joke.

I mean for heaven’s sake, whenever this gag is used with Nyon around, she’s the voice of reason, y’know, a woman who also experienced the same kind of delusional love once? Again it’s all a joke, the entire point of Boa’s gag is that it’s love that’s supposed unreciprocated.

Also, the second time he rejected her was him rejecting her before she even got to ask anything...

This lets us know that Luffy knows how persistent she in trying to get with him and also implying that Luffy is going to say no, no matter what, as he knows how desperate and persistent she is about it. Now that I think about it, Rayleigh left Luffy to train by himself for 6 months before the timeskip fully ended, Rayleigh's supervision made it to where Boa couldn't get to Luffy, but after he left, was fully capable of doing so. I mean just look at Boa down here:

Yeah she said she won't go and remain strong for Luffy's sake, but with her being the way she is, I wouldn't be surprised if Boa in those 6 months went to the island and was asking Luffy multiple times which was how he was able to reject her before even knowing. If what we saw in Chapter 598 was the first time he rejected her, he wouldn't be so quick to know that she was gonna ask it again when he rejected her the 2nd time on panel. We know that the Kuja girls KNEW that Rayleigh left half a year ago as well, meaning they must've gotten to the island itself if they found this out. Unless Rayleigh told them directly, which, to be fair, is likely, but if he didn't, this implies that Boa has been talking to Luffy on the island in those 6 months, and if so, would definitely have brought up marriage at least once, or a lot, honestly, thus explaining Luffy being able to shut down her marriage request before even knowing what she was going to say, because he already heard it THAT much in those 6 months. Now, I don't truly believe that Oda thought of it like that, but it does make logical sense so I figured "why not bring it up".

Also, in a 2014 interview with Fuji TV about the 3D2Y special, Oda's editor mentioned that not only Buggy but BOA bring in the comedic elements into the arc and how they're comic relief characters, again making it obvious that even his editors understand that Boa’s infatuation is a complete joke for the sake of comedy. Same with Sanji. Being a gentleman is part of his character but he tries to score every woman. Why? Jokes.

Even if you somehow use the argument of “Oh but this behavior of his is even stronger towards Nami specifically” I don’t see how any of that can be seen as a “shipping hint” and not a gag that’s exaggerated even further, cause he’s still hitting on every woman. Besides, the first time he actually got his heart broken by a woman was by Pudding, and never Nami, Robin and every other woman despite getting rejected a billion times by them. Why? Because the Nami/Robin affection is for comedy while the story between Sanji and Pudding is supposed to be taken seriously.

It's why Oda went out of his way for Sanji to write a dedicated story between the two, with Sanji getting genuinely sad when Pudding talked shit about him only for everything to turn around by the end where she actually likes him. THAT is a romance story with substance behind it, and Oda clearly wrote it like there is merit to it. There is obviously a story written here with a beginning to an end, Sanji acts no different towards Nami in Wano than in say, Punk Hazard. Beginning of Whole Cake vs end of Whole Cake Sanji is on entirely different terms with Pudding and she is on entirely different terms with him. There is development, a plot, a purpose that impacts the plot. Not just "Haha jokes".

Soooo yeah that’s the first thing I wanted to address regarding that statement.

Second, Oda saying “I don’t want to include romance because I don’t wanna lose fans” may seem like an odd thing for him to say at first given how Oda post-timeskip portrays actual romance in his story, and plenty of times, I might add. This was when Oden/Toki was relatively fresh too so there’s no way he forgot he did so. Because of that, Oda is referring to romance for specific characters rather than for the characters he’s already written romance stories about.

So this basically means that Oda’s fear of losing readers obviously doesn’t stem from the romance stories he has already written, it’s very clear from the interview that he’s hesitant to write romance out of fear of losing some of his readers. But of course as we know, he clearly has written blatant romance already, primarily with non-main characters like Rebecca’s parents, Rouge/Roger, etc. It makes plenty of sense for Oda to not be afraid or hesitant to write romance stories/romantic elements for those non-main characters.

Because well, those stories written are basically all backstories that are over in a few chapters (Senor Pink/Russian) or briefly talked about (like the aforementioned Rouge and Roger.) As such, there’s no long-term impact on the story.

Notice how in the only case of a STRAW HAT having a blatant romance story (Sanji/Pudding), it is a character who's most defining character trait is his lovey dovey/romantic behavior? Oda most likely felt more comfortable giving a romance story to Sanji specifically as that goes with his personality, and likely felt he would not be getting backlash for giving the LOVE cook a romantic story. (Because again keep in mind he clearly stated he's hesitant to include romance due to losing fans of the characters getting romantically involved)

But STILL, even with all of that, the impact of this love story from Sanji's perspective is just erased entirely as Pudding erased his memories, as if Oda is being particularly protective of the Straw Hats getting impacted by any obviously permanent romantic development. (Because as I said SanPu is on entirely different terms from the beginning to the end of WCI, so their romance plot had impact on the story.)

So, because of how romance in One Piece is basically all deceased/minor characters having short backstories or in the case of the one Straw Hat who got a blatant romance story, (I said blatant cause you could say Usopp/Kaya, but it’s not super obviously blatant the way SanPu is) erased from his brain, there’s no obvious long-term impact that romance seems to have in One Piece.

I very much think that this “obvious long-term impact” is what Oda wants to avoid so badly, particularly for the Straw Hats (the main characters of the story). This is because this long-term impact would make it apparent to his readers that romance has a fundamental and established role in the story of One Piece as something important, which goes against his target audience of boys, who, from his point of view, don’t like it.

This idea Oda has stems from how Jump used to be when he was a kid, as clearly stated in the interview with Aoyama. It’s his own experiences with how boys manga are “supposed” to be coupled with his insecurities about being embarrassed to write romance that makes him hesitant to do just that.

This is why I scoff at the idea of “No romance in the crew” being used as an actual argument. People use that argument as if Oda himself is completely against the idea of anybody in the crew getting together, despite the painfully crystal clear reason for “no romance in the crew” being to not alienate readers and lose said readers as he is under the impression that boys won’t like that because of how he thinks that everyone still has this idea that they should be segregated due to how it was when he was a kid himself. It's why he said "People are so supportive of couples!" all surprised in the interview with Aoyama, clearly being surprised about the positive reception it gets that he didn't think it would get. It has nothing to do with him hating the very concept of romance, it's him being under the wrong impression on what his young male readers would find acceptable or not.

There is a reason why almost every single time that he brings up or hints at any, ANY hesitance or opposition towards romance in the crew, he brings up his readers. ALMOST. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. He tries to please his target audience. “It’s a shounen manga” or “the readers” he keeps saying, despite not even being asked about his readers' opinion. "I don't think there will be any romance in that crew" is said clearly because "It's a shounen manga THEY won't be interested" not because "OMG WTF I HATE ROMANCE BETWEEN THEM GTFO!" the way people intentionally misconstrue this to be. He even says "Nami probably sees all the good aspects/qualities of those guys, BUT One Piece isn't a romance" So he LITERALLY says that his reason isn't "She does not like any of her crewmates in a romantic way!" but instead says "Well it's not a story about romance and I think only girls care so I won't show or depict it because I think my primary young male audience wouldn't give a shit". Nothing about himself. Legitimately nothing about his own opinions about supposedly being disgusted with nakama romance. Gotta love the made-up narrative being presented as a fact to the fandom at large.

Oda's "but" could have EASILY been followed up with something like this: "Nami probably sees all the good aspects/qualities of those guys, BUT she doesn't see them in a romantic way and I don't want it to be that way" or something, but instead essentially opted for "Nami probably sees all the good aspects/qualities of those guys, BUT think of my young male audience! They don't care about romance. They'd probably hate it if I decide to capitalize on Nami seeing their good qualities as romantic, right? After all, only girls want it! It must only be them for asking this!" What I am saying isn't even me grasping at straws, it's RIGHT THERE. "I don't think there will be romance in the crew cause boys will not like it". Bam, that's all it is. I know I am repeating myself but it seriously bears repeating because of how so many people see that one answer in particular as the ultimate evidence against Mugiwara romance. Oda seems like he's being evasive on purpose with that answer, talking about how concerned he is about the opinions of boys while not once talking about whether or not he would like to write it or not.

Also for the love of everything can we get someone who has the untranslated version of this answer? Given how Japanese language works I would not be surprised in the slightest if he's even more evasive than in VIZ's translation.

How people come to the conclusion that he’s disgusted by the very idea of a Mugiwara couple being a thing is beyond me when it’s as clear as day that he opens his mouth about “his readers” and “his audience” for a reason.

I mean hell, Strong World was originally going to be a movie about Nami’s past and the reason he changed it was because of how he kept his TARGET AUDIENCE in mind. He kept the young boys he appealed to in mind despite clearly wanting to write something else at first.

Him pleasing his audience doesn’t equal “I really don’t want this to be a thing”. If anything, he restricts his desires purely on the basis that he thinks whatever he wants to write is not what other people want, why the hell wouldn't you think this applies to the idea of "no romance in the crew" when he literally spoonfed us the reason being exactly that in the earlier photo of the Jump Fests '09 interview?

He clearly wants to avoid it because of this idea that his male audience will take issue with it and not because he doesn’t wanna do it himself. This why he said “Seriously!?” all surprised when Aoyama said he wouldn’t leave if he decided to implement romance into his story, and he was saying this to a man who writes romance and has already said “I love romantic comedies” 2 sentences ago. Oda is THAT unsure of himself and he's THAT much under the impression that males have no interest in romance. I rarely if ever see people bring this up.

There's a sense of insecurity Oda has on the topic of romance. When Aoyama said “I guess you have no interest in love comedies” Oda didn’t say yes or even imply that he's right about that being the case. He just said “I’m not confident I could draw those, it's a bit embarrassing” Again, he's insecure about it. Not AGAINST it. He basically spells it out for you. But many people still pretend as if he's saying all of this because he's supposedly disgusted by romance among the crew being a thing, only because that made up narrative supports what THEY want to be the case, instead of looking into the actual reason for as to why he's saying all these things.

As I said before, almost every single time he is hesitant to write romance he mentions his audience, but in the situations he doesn't bring up his audience, he instead mentions how he's embarrassed to do it. I mean when asked in a 2019 interview with Oda, he was embarrassed when asked if he incorporates arguments with his wife into how Nami argues, perhaps showcasing how he's embarrassed to talk about his wife (ya know, the person he loves) in other words, the person he's romantically attached to. This is definitely a stretch so I'm not saying that I seriously think that this is more proof on how he's embarrassed/insecure about romance, but I figured it was worth bringing up. But embarrassment aside, he also cares a lot about his manga keeping face to his boy audience.

This leads me to the next thing… Oda’s involvement with the movies. Notice how, every single time he’s involved with writing the plot there’s always some LuNami stuff he wants to throw in there?

Strong World obviously, as well as parts of Film: Gold. Now, at first things seem… odd. The LuNami hints between the two in those films are quite a bit more on the nose than anything Oda has written in the manga, like a oh-so clear parallel between Tesoro and Luffy. At first it puzzled me why Oda would relegate these stories and moments to movies. And then, if you read the Aoyama interview, things start to make sense why he approaches things this way.

Movies aren’t treated as a main part of the story by people, it’s not the manga. You have to go out of your way to see the movie. There's no need to watch the movie to understand One Piece's main manga story. Look at the contrast between Chapter 0 and Strong World itself. Chapter 0 is manga content and it seems so much more concerned with the action and hype the young boys are there for (obviously cause it takes place decades before the current canon but that was a deliberate choice, it could've easily been like how Glorious Island, being a prequel to Film Z, was contemporary to the story). While there still is a bunch of that hype/action in the movie itself, there are also romantic elements thrown in there. It's kind of like Oda's experimenting, testing the waters with those movies. It makes sense for him to approach it this way. People who so happen to hate the addition of (LuNami) romance are willing to let things slide and overlook it because said romance is in a movie they don't have to watch.

So basically a non-mandatory-to watch movie provides Oda with more leeway, or rather makes him more comfortable to add what he wants, allowing him to put just a little bit of obvious romantic themes revolving LuNami.

Although it’s just a BIT of leeway, as Oda still kept the young boys in mind as he, of course, changed the movie from what it was originally supposed to be from something darker to something more light-hearted.

Here's where we get to the main point of this long wall of text: After three seconds. See, this could have easily, EASILY been animated into the movie, it’s as simple as having a 1 minute scene of everyone hearing the final part of the message, it could have easily been the post-credits scene, heck 1 minute is probably a lot more than what was necessary to show after three seconds animated. So why did it not happen in the movie? Probably because Nami was blushing.

Blushing is the most cliché and obvious way to tell if someone is into someone else (unless it’s physical like kissing). Oda, likely due to him keeping his young male audience in mind, relegated it to something even MORE obscure than a movie you don't necessarily have to watch, instead of through said movie, it’s through… these pin things? I honestly don’t even know what the heck it’s supposed to be. I know that One Piece Color Walk 6 featured it...

...but I don’t know the origin of this or how it was distributed before the color walk. Was it given to people in theaters? Was this purchasable merch? Did it come with the DVD/Blu-Ray as an extra? There's so little information online on where in the world this came from, and that just goes to show how oddly obscure it is, as if Oda did this on purpose just so that as little people would find about it. As if he thinks “Okay my intentions will be too obvious if this gets put in the movie itself, let me try something else”. It makes sense given how he's clearly shy about the whole romance thing as I explained earlier. Of course in the movie proper Sanji still mentions the whole love message thing but without Nami explicitly blushing at Luffy hearing it, naysayers can easily just interpret it as one of Sanji's self-serving delusions as always, as Nami doesn't show explicit emotions (blushing) giving away that it's really a love message.

Yes, everything I am saying about this isn't some guaranteed factual info or whatever, but this makes WAY too much sense. He had no reason to make this featuring Nami blushing but he did anyway, like it’s a way for him to draw what he wanted without being overly concerned with his demographic at large getting to see this, you know. And it worked! For example, a lot of the LuNami naysayers point out how the message wasn't romantic and they all say it without the knowledge of After three seconds. Oda did a good job with keeping this art on the down low because let's be honest, who outside of the shipping community or people analyzing shipping to insane degrees (me right now) even know about after three seconds? Exactly.

And by the way, you can’t even say that Nami is blushing out of embarassment for everyone hearing it. In that artwork where she blushed, she knows damn well at that point that the only person on the ship who didn't hear the last part is Luffy, so she’s clearly blushing because of how LUFFY SPECIFICALLY heard it, she blushes once she’s realized that he heard it, it’s that straightforward. And Oda wrote Nami saying "It's embarrassing!" in reference to the message.

Oda is the same man who is embarrassed to write very on the nose romance. Not saying "Oh dude this totally means Oda is projecting how he feels writing after three seconds/the ending of Strong World onto Nami by making her say it's embarrassing meaning he sees this as romantic because HE is embarrassed about romance!" ....Well okay I totally AM saying that buuut I am not saying that it's actually true. I just wanted to bring it up lol.

Another perfect example of relegating obvious romantic things to obscure content is a certain sketch. And it’s in the heroine novel, obviously aimed at girls instead of boys, and oh would you look at that:

Oda does a complete 180 and features Nami with Luffy’s hat on with a HEART IN HER HAND… seriously, how more obvious can this sketch get? It can't! And it doesn't need to be subtle this time! Oda knows that on average more girls are going to care about romance so why be subtle here? In the past he said specifically that he thinks girl readers keep asking him questions related to romance, as I clearly said before, and this here novel is targeted at girls as opposed to boys. There’s no reason for Luffy’s hat to be on her, especially because, well, he has nothing to do with Nami's novel, it's not like he plays a role in it. Nami post-timeskip is pretty much never seen wearing his hat before this sketch, making it very peculiar for him to draw her like this here on something aimed towards girls, the demographic he keeps mentioning "loves romance and keeps asking me to include it in One Piece". Seriously, the ONE TIME to bring it back in like, a decade, and it’s done like this? It feels ridiculous to call people crazy for thinking it has to mean something given all the context I have provided.

I mean, notice how in the main manga storyline, Nami hasn’t had his since SKYPIEA??? Hell, even then, she has only had it on her head once in the main manga in Arlong Park, yet Oda made Nami wear the hat in color spreads, which are treated as not important at all by a lot of readers. Color spreads by casual or young readers are usually looked at like “Huh cool artwork I guess, not going to extensively think about it though”, again giving Oda a liiitttle bit more leeway than his main manga story. Why else do you think that Luffy and Nami are CONSISTENTLY portrayed as King and Queen in color spreads and not the main manga storyline? Because from Oda's perspective it gives naysayers or the boys who in his mind supposedly hate romance leeway to say "Oh it's just a color spread! Just fun little aesthetic stuff!", in other words, nothing to take seriously. If he wrote it into his main manga story he would have to explain why Luffy and Nami would dress up as King and Queen too, again making things a loooot more explicit depending on the way he goes about it, and he's already insecure about it, so.... I'm just saying.

Also come on, there has to be a reason why Oda has portrayed Nami with Luffy’s hat plenty of times after Skypiea yet none of those times were in the story proper, just like the movies he's involved in being heavily focused on Nami herself or LuNami. He himself wrote Tesoro and Stella's romance, he himself said that ROMANCE WAS A GOOD IDEA FOR FILM: GOLD yet is much more adamant about romance being included in his manga storyline and it was HIS idea to parallel the romance for Tesoro/Stella that he wrote with Luffy/Nami. Almost as if he is less concerned with a certain audience for the movies and side material than he his for his manga... Nah, that's ridiculous!

Isn’t it just weird how a lot of the side content Oda makes/is involved in is more on the nose with shipping hints? To me it seems like his thought process is “Okay! I can finally do something I want to! I want to make a movie about Luffy saving Nami with a few romantic undertones thrown in there… I could’ve easily made an arc like this in the manga but, can’t let my main audience be disappointed, can I?” Arlong Park and Skypiea are the only times in the manga in which Nami gets to be saved by Luffy. (Funnily enough they’re both are the only times in the main story where Luffy gives Nami his hat.) Both arcs were so long ago. It just seems to me like he wrote Strong World and the romance aspect of Film: Gold to scratch his “Nami gets saved by Luffy” itch. Even with the Zou hug being a thing, it is not something that Oda puts emphasis on at all, it’s pretty zoomed out in the manga, as if he is avoiding any overly direct intimacy that the readers he’s catering to would catch on to. It’s all too suspicious to me.

All this isn't to say that Oda doesn't do any LuNami stuff in the main manga storyline, it just that he's not mega obvious with it at all and doesn't plan to include said mega obvious hints as long as his concern with his boy audience remains there. So it doesn't invalidate any LuNami hints that people think happened in the manga like Nami blushing over the CPR Reiju gave (naysayers could easily say she was just shocked unlike Strong World where it's blatantly her blushing over Luffy hearing what Sanji called a "love message") or things that are more subtle like Nami's "I don't want to marry yet" in Thriller Bark, I'm just saying that cliché hints of romance is what he would like to avoid, something cliché enough that his shounen audience would figure out.

As a side note, Oda's "People seem so supportive of couples!" is also interesting as before his Aoyama interview he always knew/thought that girls are always the ones ask him for romance and as such of course he would know the female demographic would care more about it, so this surprise about people seeming supportive of couples may or may not be him realizing that it's not just girls who are interested, but perhaps boys too. Of course we all know that Oda drew Luffy and Nami together for Aoyama, the author he just talked about romance with. Now again not saying "Oh man this HAS to be a LuNami hint!" because they talked about much more than just romance, but still, something to consider!

Oda's "Ah, seriously!?" is still funny to me when Aoyama said he won't leave if One Piece were to include romance, despite Aoyama writing romance in Detective Conan, interesting reaction from Oda given how Aoyama literally said "I like love comedies" just earlier. As if to convince himself that Aoyama is writing the romance in his story to pander to his female audience instead of doing it because he likes doing it. Anyway I think I am digressing.

I think my theory may hold some water, but hey if you disagree, that’s totally fine. I’m not the best at articulating myself so the way I talked about some things here may just be seen as completely wrong, but hey, that’s okay! If you have something to add, you can do so. I know there will be people disagreeing with me, including even some LuNami fans, but again, I don't mind at all.

My verdict is this: Oda likes the idea of LuNami but due to his concern with his target audience, he won’t make any obvious advances that young boys would pick up on and as a result, tries to sneak in more obvious hints into supplementary/more obscure content like Movies, After three seconds, a sketch, etc. because people take those less seriously/not at face value like stuff that happens inside the manga's story, so only puts more subtle or non-cliché hints in his manga and the less subtle ones in secondary material. (I mean seriously dude, wearing Luffy's hat with a heart in your hand? A romance parallel in a movie? Blushing at the "love message" being heard? Come on, that so much more on the nose than anything in the entire manga)

I guess you can say there are layers to how far Oda is willing to go to show LuNami more explicitly lol. The more of a low profile he think he has from his boy readers, the more explicit it'll be. That is seriously a trend I have been noticing from him.

Honestly, with all this being said and done, I think the only way he will feel totally at ease with including explicit LuNami romance is if he is convinced that his boy audience doesn't mind romance at all and wouldn't leave in salt, bitterness and passive aggression.

I think One Piece will continue to be written like this without on the nose romance. The best we can hope for is a sudden LuNami ending once the story is over, because 1. By then he stops writing One Piece and doesn't need to be walking on eggshells to please his audience and 2. Romance not being written doesn't necessarily mean characters won't end up together as BF/GF, husband/wife. Portraying romance is simply showing us the way that lead to the BF/GF husband/wife relationship in the first place.

Keep in mind that the whole interpretation I have about Oda's portrayal romance and LuNami could be entirely wrong!

To talk about the "Boys don't like romance" thing, I'm a man, and look, I wrote all of this stupid shit. To me it's funny that he still is under the wrong impression that all, or at least most, boys don't like romance. I am not a shipper of everything in fiction myself, LuNami is one of the few ships I even care about. If your audience grows attached enough to a series they would get attached to the characters too, this attachment can lead to a desire of wanting to see these characters be more, that is how I started to love LuNami. I think a decent amount of male One Piece fans feel the same way, for guys like me liking a ship usually takes a slow burn, whereas, usually from what I observe, women ship things much quicker than guys. I also feel less willing at expressing my love for a ship, a big part of it being that many guys just "support" a ship instead of going balls to the wall insane for a ship with a million essays about how great the ship is, on top of that they almost always support the ships I think are lame where it's stupid one-sided love for 95% of the story (For example, men in the English-speaking community support LuHan so much more than LuNami on average it's not even funny) For a long time, many years, I was sitting in the back, keeping my interest in LuNami to myself. And what better way to "come out the shipping closet" I guess you can say, than to make... whatever the hell I wrote here? I don't know man at this point I'm so drained I'm starting to doubt that anything I even said here made any sense, I just flung all the things stored in brain at this post so it may be all over the place but whatever!

Hope you loved reading this regardless! See ya!

[mattitties]

Boyfriend, pt 2 - matt sturniolo

you guys asked, so i delivered (hopefully)

part 1 here

I left the party last night feeling on top of the world. I recounted everything to my best friend the second Matt had left and she came back to me.

“I came back from the bathroom and saw you guys totally hitting it off, so I just stood back and watched. I thought he was about to bend you over the bar and fuck you right there,” she told me. 

It’s now the next morning and I’m trying to distract myself and not think about the fact that he hasn’t texted me yet. It’s only 10 AM, so I really shouldn’t be worried, but as someone who doesn’t talk to boys literally ever, I am naturally very worried. 

As the hours pass and it’s now 2 PM, I go into my roommate’s room. “Why hasn’t he texted me? Do you think he was just fucking with me? What if I didn’t give him the right number and he’s now texting some other hotter bitch instead of me? What if I was-” I start to ramble before she cuts me off.

“Oh my god, shut up! It’s been like 14 hours, chill out! He’s gonna text you, and if he doesn’t, he doesn’t. We don’t know anything about him, he could be sleeping still or he could be having a busy day. Take a Xanax or something, good gracious,” she tells me, finishing just as my phone vibrates.

I check it absentmindedly, fully expecting it to be my mom or a spam text, but instead I see an unknown number.

Hey it’s Matt, just wanted to see when your free to hang out?

I let out a shriek and show my roommate my screen.

“Fucking told you!” she says excitedly before her face changes. “Oh boy, he’s one of the fuckers who doesn’t know the difference between your and you’re. You gotta fix that.”

“Oh for sure,” I say, starting to type in my phone.

hey :) i’m free tonight or tmr if either of those work

Tonight is good, I can pick you up around 6 and we can get dinner. How does Boa sound?

“Oh my god. He wants to take me to Boa,” I tell my roommate. I’m just about on the verge of vomiting everywhere.

“Oh fuck yeah! Mr. Moneybags over here!” she cheers.

that sounds great!

Sick, whats your addy so I know where to pick up my gf ;)

I give him my address, turn off my phone, and immediately go to my room to take an everything shower and get ready.

I’m finishing up my hair at 5:30 when I get another text: Leaving now, be there in 15 min. I made reservation for 6

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I was so confident around him last night, but now I feel like a completely different person. I’m terrified I’m gonna be an awkward mess when I get in the car and he’s gonna wonder what happened to the girl he met last night and I won’t even be able to eat I’m so nervous and–

Nope, I’m not worrying anymore. It’s gonna be fine. I triple check everything to make sure I look good, and finally he texts that he’s here.

I grab my bag, go downstairs, and open the front door to our apartment complex, where I’m met with a very familiar face standing next to it. He’s wearing a black short sleeve collared shirt, blue jeans, and a black baseball cap he put on backwards. Man, he looks good as fuck. 

He looks up when he sees me and smiles. “Hi,” he says. “Car’s right there. I was going to come in but then I saw I had to be buzzed into the building and I didn’t know which apartment was yours, so…” It seems that his confidence from last night has lessened quite a bit as well, as now he’s just awkwardly rambling. I find it adorable.

I shake my head and smile. “You’re fine, this is perfect.” I follow his lead to his car, and am surprised when he opens the passenger door for me. “Thank you,” I say as I get in, and he shoots me another quick smile before closing the door and going to the driver’s side. 

“So Boa, huh? You really are trying to show off your YouTube bucks,” I joke.

“Me and my brothers go there a lot, it’s not really that expensive,” he says. 

“Speak for yourself! I was looking at the menu and almost had an aneurysm at the prices!”

He laughs and glances at me. “Well lucky for you, you’re not the one paying, are you?”

We continue our banter for a few minutes before there’s a lull in the conversation. “Do you wanna put some music on? Here’s the aux cord,” he tells me, pulling out a cord.

“Oh,” I say, immediately regretting all my life choices. I am historically NEVER on aux in any situation because my music taste is comprised of Taylor Swift, dad rock, and depressing music. “Um… you may not like my music. We can just play whatever you like.”

He looks at me wearing a tiny frown. “What! You’re the passenger, you get aux. Whatever you play will be fine.”

I sigh dramatically as I plug my phone in and queue Taylor. “Okay, but if you don’t like it, just remember I gave you a chance to say no.” He nods. I watch his face to gauge his reaction as “The Story of Us” starts to play, and I roll my lips into my mouth to hide my laughter when he recognizes the voice. 

“Yayyyy,” he says sarcastically. “I love Taylor Swift…”

The rest of the drive consists of me explaining to him that if he was willing to give her music a try, he would definitely enjoy her music. I was fully expecting him to laugh it off and come back with some smart ass comment about her as nearly every other man does, but he seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying. “You’re right,” he told me. “Maybe we can listen together and you can show me more of her stuff!”

I think I fell in love right there.

When we arrive at Boa, the man nearly eats shit rushing around to open the passenger door for me, and walks slightly ahead of me to get the door for the restaurant. Neither of us have any ounce of the same flirty energy we had last night, but there’s no awkwardness at all. I still can’t believe this is happening. The hottest guy I’ve ever seen, he’s a perfect gentleman, we have so much in common, and he’s actually into me? It seems far too good to be true.

“So,” I say when we get seated, “what exactly made you feel the need to come up to me last night? Did I really look that uncomfortable?”

“Oh, you looked like you were about ready to sink into the floor. I mean, in all honesty, I was kind of eyeing you all night but I didn’t have the courage to come up to you, so I guess I sort of used that as an excuse to do something. Plus saving you from creepy guy and all,” he replies.

“Well, thank you, no matter what your reasoning was.” I look around the restaurant. I feel so out of place, it’s disgusting. I’ve only lived in LA for a couple months, so I still feel like I don’t belong, especially when I end up in the same restaurants that people get papped outside of. But somehow, even in a place like this, I feel oddly safe and at peace with a man that I met not even 24 hours prior. 

I’ve never been much of a great conversationalist; if I’m in a one on one conversation, the other person needs to be a rambler for it to not be awkward. But he’s not a rambler, and we both are just so invested in what the other person is saying that it’s somehow a never ending conversation. We have so much in common – our love for movies, Legos, journaling, us both attempting to get back into reading after going so long without it – I feel like I’ve known him my whole life. It’s so refreshing, and it’s terrifying. I know I’m going to fall for him fast. I may be already, but I can’t be. We just met. 

He pulls me out of my trance by repeating his question. “You ready to go?”

“What? Oh, yeah, sorry. Um, thanks for paying,” I smile as I get up. 

“Of course! What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t pay on our first date?” he jokes. 

“Ohhh, our first date? Does that imply there’ll be a second?” I ask as I get in the car.

“Would you like there to be a second?” 

“I mean I guess…” I smirk at him. We’re both looking at each other, smiling ever so slightly. I want nothing more than to kiss him right now, and I’m 99% sure he wants the same based on the way his eyes are shifting focus from my eyes to my lips. I’m about to lean in when –

“I should get you home.”

Oh. I nod. “Yeah… yeah, probably.” I sit back in my seat.

He turns on the car and Taylor Swift blasts through the speakers. “JESUS–” he yells, turning the volume down as we both start laughing. “I know I said you could show me her stuff but let’s take it down a notch, god damn!”

We don’t talk at all during the drive home, but it’s nice. Just the music in the background, and subtle glances between us every so often. When we pull up in front of my apartment complex, he parks the car and turns it off, then starts to get out.

“You don’t need to get out, it’s okay,” I tell him.

“Well I have to make sure you get into your apartment safe, don’t I?” Again, what a gentleman. I didn’t even think people like him existed anymore. I smile to myself and lead the way, taking him up to the 4th floor and down the hall to my door. “I guess this is where I leave you?” he asks.

“Unfortunately, this is where you leave me.” I’m looking up at him, he’s looking down at me. I can tell he wants to say something, and I hope it’s what I think it is.

He opens his mouth, takes a sharp inhale. “Can I kiss you?”

Bingo. I smile and nod, holding his jaw lightly in my hand. He takes my waist with one hand and the back of my head with the other, and our lips collide softly in a matter of seconds. I haven’t kissed many guys, but they’ve always felt just a little off and I never knew why. But this? This feels right. It’s gentle, but our tongues slip into each other's mouths as the kiss grows deeper. I know I need to stop this here, as much as I don’t want to. I give in for a few more seconds before I pull back. 

“I, um… I need to go inside,” I tell him, completely unable to wipe the smile off my face.

“Okay,” he says, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’ll text you, because yes, there definitely will be a second date.”

“Good.” I kiss him one last time before I unlock my door. “Goodnight, Matt.”

“Goodnight.”

———————————————————————

i probably won’t do a part 3 because idk how to keep it interesting from here but if you have other fic requests lmk and i’ll do my best 😚

[bloodchapell]

he loves to hear you yap - armin a.

brief summary: just thinking about how cute armin is and him loving to listen to EVERY word you say

what to expect: alt and very nerdy reader, equally nerdy armin, mutual pinning

your sword’s note: really just thinking of how attentive and good of a listener he would be and I ACHE for it. all past and future parts of this au series available in my mistresslist

A month or so had passed since the semester started. Normally after philosophy class you would go to the library with Armin. He had convinced you to play Minecraft and you had convinced him to play Dress to Impress.

“Agh!!!” You screamed and turned off your iPad.

“Shut the hell up!” Pieck, your roommate, yelled at you.

“Sorry I forgot that not all of us have to wake up at 6 am to deliver a calf…” You apologized and she sighed.

“I will say the same when you are trying to finish up some jacket or whatever it is that fashion designers do.” She joked half asleep. “Why did you scream either way? The Sleeping Beauty nightmare again?”

“That is a very serious nightmare!” You argued. “No it wasn’t that, Armin just gifted me VIP in Dress to Impress…”

“That is so cute… now get married and let me go back to sleep, that 75 pound baby calf isn’t going to deliver itself.”

<WHATTT THANKS MIN😭> you. 2:47 am

<YPU DIDNT HAVE TO YOURE SO SWEET> you. 2:47 am

<It’s okay! I just really liked your vkei theme outfit and was very conflicted when seeing that you didn’t win… They really should made an “only pros” server, these people do not know what vkei is.> armin 👼🏼. 2:48 am

That made you laugh. He had only learned about vkei the day before, when you guys hanged out and he asked what vkei entailed.

After some more rounds of playing, you decided it was time to go to sleep, you said good night to Armin and left the electronics in the table by your bed. But before you could actually fall asleep your mind stared thinking about Armin. The wandering thoughts regarding the blonde would fall like a current that cannot be stopped, the way in which his hands would softly write in his notebook and his handwriting was so small and dainty, the way in which his slender fingers would hold the black pen, the way he would always pay attention and participate in class, his comments always so educated, organized and concise, like he had some inside knowledge and some inside understanding about it all; yes he was a little timid regarding social interactions, but when it came to scholarly matters, he was an eminence and his words would flow out of his pretty plump pale pink lips like it was just any other topic. He was so smart and so attractive when rambling about the ambiguity of morals and religion and science and politics, his bangs and longish hair framing his face and his lashes deepening the gaze of his eyes. Goddamnit was he handsome.

“Is Malice Mizer not on Spotify?” With his phone in hand Armin asked in class the next day, following like a robot Eren’s recommendations on how to behave normally when having such a fat crush.

“How do you know that?” You asked whispering in class.

“I liked the songs you showed me.” He mentioned still holding his phone. Your heart almost ran out of your chest when hearing that; not only he he understood vkei fashion to know that the fellow Dress to Impress players were ass, but was also interested in it beyond what you had explained.

And he was interested, not only because he would have the opportunity to have a topic of conversation with you, but because he trusted in your judgement so much that he understood that if you liked vkei as a subculture, it was for a valid and good reason and therefore he must check it out.

“Yeah sadly they are not in Spotify… I can recommend you some other bands if you want though.” You said and he nodded immediately, saying he would be delighted. You typed Sito Magus, SHAZNA, Gulu Gulu, Kaya and MEJIBRAY on his notes app. “Some of them can be a little heavy, I don’t know if you like that.”

“I don’t mind.” He smiled sweetly; he didn’t really mind because he was used to Eren and Mikasa blasting death black evil obscure metal.

Armin was trying his absolute best to not dissolve into a mass of anxiety and embarrassment, he kept thinking about every recommendation Eren gave him and even though sometimes it seemed like nothing he could do was powerful enough to mask his feelings, he trusted logic and knew that up to a point it could work.

"You said you had a playlist with all your favorite songs ever right? Can we listen to them together while you explain to me why you like them maybe?" He asked impulsively without stopping to think, almost immediately regretting the request before seeing your eyes glimmering like eyes do in cartoons and seeing you nod. Truth be told he was also fascinated with the way you spoke about your interests, you were so passionate and analytic of the things you liked that he could be convinced to do almost anything if you described it like you do with the things you love.

So after class you invite him to your dorm and you both sit on the carpeted floor while you go over every song and he listens to your comments and tries to hear the songs as beautifully as you do.

[lostfracturess]

【 ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ 】 ch. 01

"it must be amusing for you." "don't even think for a second that i find it amusing if you get hurt." the seriousness in his tone made you pause. "let's get you home."

x pairing gojo x f!reader (main), fushiguro x f!reader (jjk universe)

x summary you never wanted to become part of the world of jujutsu sorcerers, yet fate had other plans when the one and only satoru gojo took you under his wing at jujutsu high. but as the lines between student and teacher begin to blur, hidden powers surge to life, and a deadly target is set on your head.

x wc 12.5 k

x warnings [18+] this story contains abusive/possessive behavior, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, graphic depictions of violence/injury/combat, character death, suicidal thoughts. reader discretion is advised.

x author's note so exited to start this series!! dive in and let me know what you think—i love hearing your thoughts! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡

series masterlist + ao3 + wattpad

next chapter ->

You had always known that Gojo Satoru was a sorcerer feared by many. But it wasn't until that moment, when your blade was easily tossed aside by his bare hands, that it really hit you. He stood before you; signature stupid smile playing on his lips. "I knew you had potential."

The satisfaction in his voice clawed at your ego. No, you couldn't let him have that satisfaction. Not after the grueling effort you had put into this fight. Barely able to breathe, you shot back, "Don't talk shit, Gojo. You're not even trying!"

But you had already reached your limits, perhaps even surpassed them. Your legs trembled with exhaustion, threatening to give way beneath you. You fought to keep your composure, leaning on your knees for support instead of collapsing completely. Gojo lowered his gaze and peered down at you through his sunglasses. His voice dripped with irony, "I don't want to hurt you—yet."

His blue eyes captured yours; making your skin crawl. How can anyone be so arrogant.

Your imagination danced on the edge of danger; picturing what it might feel like to wrap your hands around his neck, tightening your grip just a fraction to erase that stupid smile of his before you sank to the ground.

Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara rushed over to you from the side of the training ground. "Are you all right?"

You gathered what strength you had left and straightened up, trying to hide your weakness, though your trembling form betrayed you. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Gojo held out his hand to help you to your feet, his mocking smile still lingering. You hesitated. Eventually, it was Megumi who reached out to you, and you took his hand without a second thought. As you did, Gojo's eyebrow raised slightly, a silent challenge in his stance.

It was only a few days ago that your world collided with this white-haired, self-satisfied man. Since then, everything had changed. Gojo had invited you to join the Tokyo Jujutsu High—a world you'd wanted to avoid at all costs. However, your acceptance of his offer had marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life. But it had also revealed your own limitations. Painfully clear.

Somehow you wondered if you should have declined it.

"It's pretty impressive how you've picked all this up by yourself," Megumi's words echoed in your mind. Yet, you couldn't help feeling like a fool.

"I'll do my best to catch up with you as soon as possible," you vowed.

"I'm sure you will," Gojo said, his tone surprisingly gentle. Your gazes locked again, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire world held its breath. There was an unspoken connection—an invisible force drawing you closer to him. But you fought to resist its allure, trying to convince yourself that it was merely a figment of your imagination.

Gojo finally broke the spell and turned away. "Tomorrow, 6 a.m.—cardio training!" There was a hint of a joke in his voice, though it sounded more like an order. Groans and protests filled the air. "Latecomers do an extra lap!" he declared before he disappeared from sight.

"Ugh, that guy!" Nobara huffed. "As if he's ever an early riser himself." You turned towards her.

"He strolls into our training, what, four hours late?" Nobara complained, rolling her eyes. "Then has the audacity to whine that we're the slow ones. Total jerk."

Yuji placed a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe we should join in—sleep in, stroll in late. He won't even notice."

"Deal!" Nobara agreed eagerly.

Megumi shook his head. "If he catches wind of this, you're dead meat."

They scoffed, dismissing his warning. "Like he'd ever find out."

"Are you scared?" Yuji teased Megumi, giving him a playful nudge.

Megumi finally relented. "Oh, for goodness' sake. Fine, it's a deal. Tomorrow, 8 a.m. sharp."

Nobara countered, grinning mischievously, "Make it ten!"

You did your best to hide the exhaustion racing through your body as the banter between them continued. The adrenaline that fueled your earlier battle with Gojo was fading fast, leaving only the harsh reality of your physical limits. Your legs trembled. The world around you blurred. Your body had reached its breaking point. With a heavy sigh, your strength gave way, and you collapsed to the ground. Gojo's stupid grin still vivid in your mind.

----------------

Your room felt suffocating after the humbling encounter with Gojo. The four walls closing in as you sought an escape from the restless thoughts in your mind. You couldn't see through his facade, unable to decipher the true meaning behind his words that day—the day he had taken you in and you followed. You blindly followed. You must be utterly foolish, there was no doubt about it. 

Despite your best efforts to cast them aside, the thoughts lingered, an ache in your chest that refused to be dismissed. Sleep eluded you; restlessness drove you out of your room. You wandered aimlessly through the quiet corridors in the midnight silence that contrasted sharply with the school's usual chaos.

In the dimly lit kitchen, you brewed a late-night cup of strong coffee. With each sip, you questioned whether abandoning the fragment of family you had left had been the right desicion. Or, had you blindly entered Satoru Gojo's complicated world in vain? It was a reality where every vulnerability was exposed—a constant reminder of your weakness. Perhaps you weren't capable of saving anyone after all. Was it all a futile endeavor that would ultimately prove Gojo's cautioning correct?

"Little late for a caffeine kick, don't you think?" A voice—all too familiar— broke the stillness.

You turned, heart pounding in your chest, to find Gojo strolling in. There was a weariness in his step. His usually vibrant blue of his eyes dimmed. Shrouded with shadows.

"I suppose I'll be fine", you replied, raising your mug to your lips. "What's your excuse for the midnight stroll?"

Gojo let out a sigh, leaning against the door frame. "Insomnia," he admitted, frustration lacing his words. You took a sip of your coffee, studying the tired lines on his face. "Want one?"

"To worsen the situation?"

"You seem like it couldn't get any worse."

"Charming," he replied, his lips curving into a slight grin. His sharp yet weary eyes locked onto yours, searching and contemplative. After a brief pause, he declined, "Unfortunately, that won't help with the real reason I can't sleep."

"Let me guess—," A sense of unease fluttered in your stomach. "—losing sleep over bearing the title of the world's strongest sorcerer?" You aimed for a playful tone, hoping to cut through the growing tension.

Gojo took a step closer. The weariness on his face becoming more apparent as the gap between you diminished. A soft, teasing chuckle escaped his lips, sending a shiver down your spine. "Imagine thinking that would lose me a wink of sleep."

Oh, he's so full of himself. 

Your fingers unconsciously clenched around your cup. "So, what is it then?"

"Oh, it's you, of course, love."

"Don't talk shit." Your pulse quickened, an accelerating undertow as he breached the last remains of distance. His closeness felt almost suffocating in its intensity, every nerve tingling, acutely aware of the warmth radiating from him, a tangible pressure against your skin.

With deliberate intent, he leaned forward, reaching over you to grab a cup. His chest hovering dangerously close to your face. Enveloped by his proximity, your senses were overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne. Your body involuntarily tensed.

"I know what you want to ask." His form towered above you, yet somehow, it felt like he was enveloping you entirely.

"Don't pretend to know me," a brittle edge sharpened your voice; your frustration at his arrogance boiling over. This man had the audacity to act as though he had you all figured out when he knew next to nothing. However, the subtle brush of Gojo's chest against your shoulder as he took the cup was enough to sent a subtle, stomach-churning twist through your abdomen.

He lingered there, gaze unwavering and intensifying as he leaned closer. The closeness of his face—the warmth of his breath against your skin—setting your heart racing. "Oh love, you're an open book to me."

Time seemed to halt.

"We have a lot in common," he remarked, setting his cup down on the counter you leaned against. His fingers grazed yours ever so slightly—a seemingly casual touch that left a lingering sensation. He rested his hands on the countertop, just inches from yours. Capturing you.

"We're not the same." Your gaze narrowed. "I'm not that arrogant."

"Oh, love, who hurt you?" he mocked. "You talk as if there's a dagger where your heart should be."

"You should know that only to well," you shot back.

Gojo's eyes lingered on yours. His jaw clenched, fingers digging into the hardwood of the counter. Why was he like that. Acting like you're his puppet—acting like he knows you will fall for him. But as soon as the first light of day touches the ground, he pulls away.

He broke the silence. "You should get some rest," he advised. "Don't think I'll go easy in tomorrow's training just because you're the rookie here." He began to turn away, But you weren't finished with him.

"Why did you say that to me on that day?"

He paused. His back turned to you. "I just know you."

This man's arrogance is unmatched.

----------------

A piercing scream shattered the tranquil pre-dawn silence. The urge to crawl back under the covers was strong, but before you could make up your mind, your bedroom door slammed open with an abrupt force.

"It's 6, training time!" Gojo, already dressed in workout attire, radiated a fierce commitment that rippled through his frame.

"What—?" Your groan, still groggy and barely coherent. Boldly, he marched over to you and yanked the covers away.

"Gojo!!!" Indignation flared as you clutched at your scanty pyjama shorts. Now exposed to his gaze. "Privacy!"

He pulled back. His face flickered with amusement. Still enshrouded in sleep, you grabbed the nearest object and flung it at the intruding teacher. Gojo effortlessly dodged the flying missile, as if he had anticipated your reaction.

"Good morning to you too."

You barely restrained yourself from throwing another object his way. Rubbing your eyes in a futile attempt to focus, you were already plotting various ways to metaphorically kill him in your mind. Clearly, he had reverted to his old childish self after his overbearing behavior the previous night.

He closed the gap and gently brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. His order delivered with a flirtatious edge. "Get ready." And, in a blink, he was gone.

What the hell.

Collapsing back onto your bed, a pillow found its way into your embrace, muffling the scream bubbling from your depths.

What's wrong with this man? 

----------------

What's wrong with this man? You thought. Again.

The question ran through your mind, fueling frustration and anger even as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you. Your eyes drifted to Yuji and Nobara, equally sleep-deprived, shuffling the laps around the training ground alongside you in a semi-conscious daze. Despite Gojo's complaints of insomnia just yesterday, his current energy level stood in harsh contrast to your own lethargy. 

The sun rose, drenching the training ground in an unforgiving blaze. Heat surged through your head, and you couldn't discern whether it was due to the scorching heat or the onset of a fever. Just as you were on the brink, Gojo tossed each of you a water bottle. He grinned, as if sadistically relishing your collective exhaustion.

Yuji slumped down beside you; his weariness mirroring your own. It was evident that both of you were unaccustomed to the brutal training. Amidst the agony, a strange sense of satisfaction seeped through you as you accepted that this torment was now your daily reality.

"After a romp through the forest, we can wrap up for the day," Gojo declared. He seemed to genuinely relish watching his students push themselves to their physical limits.

"Well—" Megumi stood up, his sturdy presence cutting through the stifling heat. He brushed off his shorts before addressing you.

"Stick with me, and you won't get lost," he offered gently.

"Get lost?"

"The forest route is pretty winding. It's easy to lose track."

"Ah, got it," you replied, though you secretly doubted that a forest in the heart of Tokyo could be all that difficult to navigate. Megumi offered a hand, his smile reassuring. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Gojo's scrutinizing gaze lingering on both of you. As you shifted to meet his eyes, he quickly averted his gaze, leaving a sense of unease. Perhaps it was just your imagination. 

----------------

Fuck.

You were alone. Alone in the forest you thought wouldn't be that difficult to navigate. The irony.

The unexpected toll your lack of stamina took on you was something you hadn't anticipated. How much time had passed since you'd been separated from them? The nagging uncertainty clawed at you as you sank onto a fallen log beside what seemed to be a faint trail through the woods. A heavy moan escaped your lips. "Aw, hell."

"Hold on, guys!" Yuji called out, his voice echoing through the forest, as he realized your absence.

Megumi wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Where did she go?"

"The real question is, how long has she been gone?" Nobara added.

"You two keep moving forward. I'll double back for her," Megumi declared. Without hesitation, he pivoted, retracing the footprints back into the depth of the forest.

Back at the training ground, Yuji and Nobara, their expressions painted with weariness, converged with Gojo. The latter, lounging nonchalantly with a non-alcoholic cocktail perched beside him under a shady umbrella, seemed utterly pleased with himself.

"Asshole," Nobara hissed as she observed him. Yuji quickly filled Gojo in on your misadventure in the forest and Megumi's mission to find you.

"Lost?" Gojo's reply came, unexpectedly zesty as he sprang from his laid-back position. "How can you just lose someone?"

Yuji's eyebrows arched. He couldn't remember Gojo being that enthusiastic the time he got lost in the forest in his early days of training. In fact, Gojo had been seemingly unconcerned back then. He'd wandered aimlessly for hours before eventually escaping the woody maze. Now, witnessing Gojo's fervent reaction to your getting lost, it seemed oddly out of character.

Satoru rubbed the back of his head. His eyebrows furrowed. "I'll go after her."

Navigating through the dense woods—sense of direction completely lost—you aimlessly staggered on. You pondered how the hell you could get stuck in a place like this. Suddenly, a sharp crack of a twig or branch behind you ignited a spark of panic in your bloodstream. You swiveled hastily, twisting your ankle in the process, and tumbled down a slope.

"Carp, Crap, Crap!"

You felt a small stream of blood trickle down your leg, momentarily blurring your vision with discomfort.

This couldn't get any worse.

Leaning back, you assessed your situation, feeling a tidal wave of defeat sweep over you. The forest seemed endless—the amount of time you'd been wandering its dark recesses unclear. The sun, filtering its fading light through the dense leaves, slowly descended toward the horizon. Fatigue washed over you. Heat rose in your skull.

"Just a moment—," you muttered to yourself; fatigue pulling you in.

"What the hell you think you doing?" A voice—achingly familiar—sliced through your hazy awareness. Gradually, your eyes fluttered open.

It got worse.

"Gojo?" Your whisper was frail, barely a ripple in the air.

Of course. It had to be Gojo who found you in that state.

In the next instant, his hand was tenderly pressed against your forehead. His touch causing shivers running through your form as he whispered, "You're burning up."

It was only now that you realized the haze you felt was probably due to a fever setting in. You tried to downplay it. "I got lost," a pathetic excuse for your current dire straits. His eyes closed briefly, releasing a weighted sigh.

"Don't do this to me."

Before you could process his words, he quickly stripped off his jacket. He wrapped it tightly around the bleeding wound on your inner thigh. A wince escaped you as you tried to sit up, desperate to show some semblance of strength.

"I'm fine!" you gasped out. Your swift action rewarded with a searing pain radiating through your skull. At this point, you couldn't decide which was worse—the throbbing headache or the dangerously close proximity of Satoru Gojo's hands between your legs.

"I don't need your help!"

"Oh really?" Gojo's gaze held you prisoner as you strained to remain calm under his unyielding gaze. His fingers clung to your skin—a cruel proximity that made your stomach clench. "You'll have to accept help at some point."

The world seemed to blur for a split second, almost causing you to forget the position of his hands. Your lips parted, but no coherent response found its way out of your throat. A boyish smile played on his lips as he shifted his attention back to securing his jacket more tightly around your injured leg.

"Your ankle is hurt too," he observed, his tone matter-of-fact, though his eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement. It must have been quite a show for him to see you in such a vulnerable state. Weakened and wounded. Particularly after your foolish display of capability when you first met—boldly declaring that you didn't need training at his school. Looking back, it was just ridiculous.

"It must be amusing for you."

He looked at you; somewhat hurt. "Don't even think for a second that I find it amusing if you get hurt." The seriousness in his tone that made you pause.

"Let's get you home," he said after a moment. With effortless strength he lifted you into his arms, causing you to instinctively cling to his neck. As he held you, his eyes never left your face, "Are you all right?"

You nodded. However, your eyes shied away from locking with his, since that meant hovering mere inches from his face. You figured it best to avoid straight-up confronting his features, considering your entire form was already securely wrapped in his arms. Perhaps it was the fever, but you allowed your head to rest on his shoulder. You absorbed the comforting warmth he radiated after what felt like an eternity of lying on the frosty moss. His hands held you tightly, as if afraid you might slip through his fingers again. You found yourself pressed even closer to him, finding comfort in his protective embrace.

"Gojo, why—" you began, but before your words could fully form, they were abruptly interrupted by Megumi's appearance.

"Is everything okay?" His voice echoed from above the embankment.

"She's fine." Gojo's reply was swift. For a fleeting second, you thought you heard a mumbled addition, something whispered for his ears alone. "She's fine, she's with me."

----------------

The next thing you recalled is waking up in an unfamiliar, sterile room. The orange and red glow of the setting sun softly lit the room. As you cautiously sat up, you noticed bandages tightly wrapped around the entirety of your left ankle. Oddly, it didn't hurt, which made you suspect they must've given you some painkiller. Your slightly blurry vision somewhat confirmed that.

A soft voice cuts through your foggy consciousness, drawing your eyes to the familiar white-haired man seated next to your bed. He looks utterly exhausted. His hair disheveled. Faint dark circles underlining his eyes. You can't help but wonder if he's been sleeping right there in that chair, given the casually thrown blanket on its back.

"You're up?" he asked, his voice betraying his weariness.

"Why are you here, Gojo?"

Your question carried more seriousness than you intended. Or perhaps you intended it to be as serious as it appeared. You had wanted to draw a clear line, emphasizing that it wasn't natural for him to sleep next to you—to watch over you the whole day just because you had a fever and a few bruises.

You didn't want him doing what he was doing. You didn't want him—here. You didn't want what it was inflicting.

"Quite the greeting for your hero, don't you think?" He said with a playful smirk.

A heavy silence enveloped the room. You searched his gaze for any hint of why he was there, though deep down you already knew the answer. But you struggled with it, trying to suppress and deny the truth.

"Aren't you glad to see me?" He asked after a pause.

"Answer my question first."

A spark of amusement lit up his tired eyes—a soft chuckle escaped him.

"What?"

Still chuckling, he managed to say, "I really shouldn't be here." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Pathetic, right?"

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay," he eventually admitted. But you refused to accept such an obvious lie.

"That's not it—," you urged him to reveal the truth. The truth you didn't even want to hear. But somehow you couldn't stop; couldn't hold it in any longer. His raised eyebrow silently dared you to keep going.

"You shouldn't—" you began, but your voice trailed off—your courage waning. Gojo remained silent. His jaw tightened slightly. "—you shouldn't be here."

He starred at you. His gaze was both intimidating and captivating. Part of you wished to escape the intensity of his gaze, while another part craved it, yearned for his eyes to stay on you. Briefly, your eyes flickered to his lips, still curved in that enigmatic grin. You fleetingly wondered if they belonged to someone else. The thought flickered away as quickly as it came, leaving a strange knot in your stomach.

"If you tell me to leave, I'll leave," he muttered.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself up from the chair and in a few steps was beside your bed, sitting down next to you. His closeness enveloped you, leaving every possible answer stuck in your throat.

"Do you want me to leave?" His lips were dangerously close to yours. Your heart raced in your chest, drowning out any rational thought. His cold fingers traced a slow, shivering path along your collarbone. No. But you didn't want to give in—not to him.

"I thought you could read me like an open book?"

"I can." His eyes threatened to consume you, a dangerous desire simmering beneath them. "But I want to hear you say it."

Your pulse quickened, yet defiantly, you tilted your chin up, a subtle challenge. "I won't say it."

A wicked, almost predatory smile gradually tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Stubborn," he observed, his voice husky, layered with a desire that threatened to dissolve the very resolve holding you together. He leaned closer, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the warmth of his breath against your skin. His lips brushed ever-so-lightly against your cheek. "I like that about you."

You inhaled sharply—a barely perceptible catch in your breath, yet you knew he noticed—he heard. Every muscle in your body was on fire, fighting to hold your resolve, refusing to collapse under the overwhelming attraction that crackled in the air, buzzing and sparking between you like a charged current.

"I won't act on those feelings unless you tell me to," he continued, his fingers now tracing a slow, torturous path across your lips.

Inside, something was screaming, Do it, just do it. But you didn't yield, stuck in your refusal to give in, especially to this arrogant man. You couldn't give him that satisfaction, even though your entire body was begging for it.

Gojo's eyes snapped into sharper focus, flashing with frustration. The unspoken challenge hanging heavy. Abruptly, he leaned back. The string of tension snapping with the motion.

"Time's up," he declared, his voice almost nonchalant. "Gotta go."

And just like that, he was slipping through the door. Your words lagging behind him, unable to reach his departing figure.

No.

Wait.

Should you feel a sense of relief now? Relieved that? Nothing happened ? Or should you have found your voice—spoken your wants?

The weight of the uncertainty bore down, unbearably so. He was gone, and the anticipation that had swelled within you slowly faded. Your hand, trembling, found your lips, as if trying to preserve the lingering essence of his proximity. Damn it. This can't be happening. You can't allow yourself to fall for your him—especially not him.

----------------

Sunlight peeked through the curtains, dragging you out of your dreams back into the harsh reality. You groaned, blinking against the bright morning light. Memories of last night with Gojo crept into your consciousness. Every word, every charged glance, played over in your mind. The unanswered 'what ifs' circling like vultures.

The nurse's appearance rustled you from your thoughts. After ensuring you were armed with painkillers and adorned with a stern string of warnings to prioritize rest and healing, she left you alone to battle with the thoughts that threatened to consume you. 

With Shoko inaccessible, tucked away in a meeting in Kyoto, the painkillers and rest would have to suffice, at least for now. But even a mere glance at the pill bottle sent you back into a haze.

For at least one day, you reluctantly followed the nurse's advice. Your room overlooked the school courtyard, and through the window you could see the other students practicing diligently. However, every attempt to sneak a peek over the windowsill was met with a scowl from none other than Gojo. His gaze bored into you, as if he could see through your attempts to defy the doctor's orders.

"Rest!" he shouted at you, his voice carrying a tone of authority that sent shivers down your spine. You quickly backed away from the window. Your heart pounding as you sought refuge behind the closed curtains. 

But you can't afford to rest—not fall further behind than you already are. 

Though your ankle was no longer swollen, it still hurt. So did your inner thigh injury. Still, the pain was bearable—a constant reminder of your weakness. You hated it. How pathetic you appeared compared to your peers. Damn it. You weren't here to bask in rest and recovery.

Fuck this shit.

You knew of an abandoned training room on the far east of the school grounds. That night, you made it your secret training spot to practice the movements you'd observed earlier in the day, determined not to fall behind.

It was oddly amusing. This dissonance between willingly risking your life on the line during missions and the near imprisonment in the infirmary for something as relatively minor as a sprained ankle while on school grounds. Yet, that night, your resolve was ironclad, unyielding against the sharp pain that shot through your ankle with every step.

Agian. Again. Again.

You forged ahead. Each motion meticulously crafted in a relentless pursuit of perfection. Repetition became your ally, forms executed over and over again, each one a bit sharper, a bit closer to flawless precision. Your mind drowned out everything but the training.

Yet it wasn't enough. 

Still not perfect. 

Again. 

Suddenly, the training room door burst open, slamming violently against the wall. Does this man not know how to open a door like a normal human being?

"Didn't I tell you to rest?" The voice, undeniably Gojo's, pierces the stillness.

"I can't fall behind."

Why is he even here? Is he stalking you or what?

"I told you to rest," his voice laced with anger—unfamiliar and unsettling—ricochets against the walls of the dusty room. But you didn't stop.

"That woman," he hissed. In the blink of an eye, he was standing in front of you. Your katana, paralyzed mid-swing by his unyielding grip, halts you, forcing your form into an unwanted pause.

"Gojo!"

"You're of no use to anyone injured!" Gojo's voice echoed. His grip on the katana firm but not threatening. 

The room fell into stillness.

His crystal blue eyes held yours. There was something unsettling in them. Was it anger? Concern? His gaze paused you for a moment, but anger quickly replaced it.

"Stop pretending you care about me, Gojo," you snapped.

Effortlessly, Gojo claimed the katana and tossed it aside. The metallic sound of its collision sharp in the empty air. With a single, deliberate step, he bridged the physical distance between you—a mere breath away. His proximity dangerously close.

"How can I not care," his eyes narrowed. "—especially when you look at me with those sad, pretty eyes."

"Don't act like you know my story."

"Oh, I do!" He shot back; his voice sharp. "—yours is a classic story of tragedy—a life marred by loss, seeking not vengeance against the world or its curses, but against yourself—"

"Enough!"

"—because you think you're too weak!—" His verbal onslaught persisted. "—you couldn't protect them, so now you're punishing yourself, aren't you?"

"Stop it already!"

"—you're chasing self-destruction as atonement." 

His words were finely-honed—cutting. The atmosphere crackling with each uttered syllable, neither willing to back down as emotions boiled over.

"You know next to nothing!"

"Oh love, I see it! I know it!" Gojo pressed further. "I'm trying to save you from yourself!"

Your fists clenched. "I don't need saving, especially not from you!"

You both paused to catch a breath, letting the heated argument fade away. It was as if an unspoken agreement to pause was made, and in that instant, all the stubborn resistance fell away. The tension lightened and, for a brief moment, you both let your guard down, replacing the previous anger.

"From the moment I first saw you, I knew—" Gojo's words trailed softly, barely more than a whisper. His fingers delicately swept a stray of hair from your shoulders. His touch, gentle and uncharacteristically tender.

"I knew what you were suffering," he murmured, his words torturing you, "—you had that look in your eyes that I know only too well."

You don't know me.

Your heart raced. You felt the heat of his presence on your skin—too close to your skin. You almost had to lean back to avoid feeling his breath on your lips. Silence enveloped him. His gaze anchored to yours. Longing and hesitation flickered in his eyes. 

His hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek, sending shivers cascading with every tender touch. "Those damn pretty sad eyes," he whispered. Your knees threatened to give way, the pain in your ankle dissolving into the distant consciousness.

"Satoru," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you longed for him to bridge the last inch that separated you. Your stomach tightened as the tension between you reached an unbearable peak. "What's stopping you?"

His eyes flashed, dancing between your lips and your gaze, silent desire boldly painted across his features. It was as if an invisible force anchored his focus to your mouth, a force against which he strenuously battled. A shaky exhale slipped from him. His frame visibly quivering, caught in a tangle of longing and restraint.

"I told you I won't act on these feelings unless you tell me to," he hissed against your lips. It was a breathless, heart-pounding closeness in which the warmth of your shared breaths mingled.

I can't. 

No. 

I can't. 

But you wanted to.

Fuck how bad you wanted to.

Yet, silence lingered. Your words lost—unspoken. 

But he saw it. Within the depths of your gaze, he saw your inner struggle, a silent war waged against yourself. And then he turned away. His posture stiffened, suggesting an inability or unwillingness to witness your turmoil any longer. The atmosphere changed, palpably altering the space between you both.

"I'm sorry," he began, uttering words that seemed to pain him as they spilled forth, "This is quite inappropriate of me."

Sorrow pierced your heart, acknowledging the potential of what could have been, now slipping through your fingers. His restraint cast a bitter aftertaste into the air, mingling with the still-lingering, undeniable pull that had initially drawn you together.

"Let's end this," he declared. It was a bittersweet end to a moment filled with longing, leaving you both with a lingering ache in your hearts, pondering over the alternate paths your relationship might have ventured down, given different circumstances.

"Satoru, wait—," your whisper barely tiptoed into the atmosphere, a delicate plea in its undertones. This resistance, the internal battle to admit that you want him, seemed almost a tangible pain running, threading through every fiber of your being.

"Go back to bed and rest," his words were cold. Without meeting your eyes, he turned and then left. His retreating footsteps echoed in the empty space.

He was gone. 

And yet he took something invaluable with him. It struck you then, like a relentless tide battering the coast—you were in love with him. A love you'd refused to confess, and now it was exacting its price—costing you everything. 

Now it was too late. The pain in your chest was unbearable. Your heart had become a prisoner to him, and there was nothing you could do to change that.

----------------

Another week passed, each day without Satoru's training sessions bringing you an unexpected sense of relief. The prospect of avoiding him had now become your silver lining, offering you a chance to breathe without the intensity of his presence bearing down on you. As you returned to the training grounds and joined your fellow teammates, you made an effort to maintain a facade of normalcy, concealing the inner conflict that still lingered beneath the surface.

Back to business.

Though it felt anything but normal. Every fiber of your being fought to avoid his gaze, to keep your distance from him as much as possible. However, given that he was your teacher, the task was almost impossible. You couldn't help but notice his every move, his every glance, the way his aura effortlessly commanded attention. 

Despite your best efforts to focus on your training, your thoughts frequently strayed to the white-haired man who had turned your world upside down. However, his ability to act as if nothing between you two had happened sliced through you more deeply than anticipated.

Megumi seemed to sense the tension surrounding you. After the training session, he took you aside, "Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice genuinely worried.

You tried to brush it off, thinking of a logical explanation. "No, it's nothing," you replied, although it was far from the truth. Being around Satoru was unbearable.

"it seems like you're not exactly at ease around Gojo?" 

You shifted uncomfortably, "No, it's not like that," you replied, although it was precisely that. Damn it, could the others already sense it? You really weren't cut out for acting. Sensing your discomfort, he took a step back, realizing he might be prying too much.

"Sorry, forget it," they said gently, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I didn't mean to pry." You offered a strained smile, but it did little to mask your feelings, and he could tell.

After a moment, he changed the subject. "Have you seen the new movie coming out this week?" he asked, shifting the conversation to a lighter topic. "I really wanted to see it, but I guess the others aren't interested," he looked a bit embarrassed, his eyes averted as he continued. "It's an arthouse movie, so I understand if you don't want to see it either—"

"Yes!" you practically shouted, surprising him and even catching yourself off guard with the overwhelming enthusiasm in your response. The sheer excitement in your answer startled him, but he couldn't hide the subtle smile that tugged at his lips.

"So, Friday night?"

You nodded with a sense of anticipation, contemplating whether this could indeed be considered a date. You undeniably liked Megumi, there was no question about it, but Satoru's lingering presence still held a significant place in your thoughts and emotions. Whatever his intentions were in asking you out, you were determined to savor the moment and use it as a welcome distraction from the ever-present specter of Satoru.

The week raced by, and the anticipation of the upcoming movie date with Megumi was a delightful respite from Satoru—or, at the very least, a fleeting escape. 

You had taken extra care in selecting your outfit for the occasion. Granted, it was just a trip to the cinema, and the dim lighting would shroud most details, but that hardly mattered. You wanted to feel pretty, if only for your own sake—and, naturally, for Megumi. Standing before the mirror, you painstakingly fine-tuned the last wisps of your hair when a message from him bathed your phone's screen in a soft glow.

"I'll be waiting outside the dormitory."

A subtle smile curved the corners of your lips as you retrieved your bag, your steps carrying you downstairs with an air of confidence. However, fate had a surprise in store for you as you descended the stairs, your world colliding with an unforeseen obstacle. 

Satoru stood mere steps below, an inscrutable barrier in your path, showing no signs of yielding. Your heart skipped a beat as your gaze locked with his, momentarily stealing your breath. You attempted to avert your eyes and continue on your way, but he remained resolute, refusing to release you from his hold. This can't be real.

"This is ridiculous, Satoru," you said, anger dripping from your voice. His arm formed an unyielding blockade, his hand clinging to the stair railing.

Raising an eyebrow, he can't suppress a slight smirk. "Oh, 'Satoru' is it?"

"Perhaps 'jerk' would be more fitting," you lock eyes with him, your stare unwavering, his smirk vanishing.

He leaned in, narrowing the gap, his words a sultry whisper against your defiance. "Stubborn as always, huh?" His eyes linger over your form, protective, possessive even. "But I can't allow you to leave with him, not looking like—this."

"Your insecurity is showing."

A silent clash of wills ensues, gazes locked in a wordless combat. How could this man have the audacity to leave you languishing in vain, only to come back, causing chaos within you once more?

"Do you really want to go—with him?" he asked, his voice suddenly soft but tinged with darkness, a tone impossible to ignore. Reluctantly, you met his gaze once more. His usually bright blue eyes now looked tired and dull. 

"Yes, I do."

"You're lying."

"I'm not," you replied, avoiding his gaze.

His grip on the railing tightened, his fingers whitening with the force of his grasp. His eyes bored into yours, unrelenting. "You can't even look me in the eye when you say that."

"What do you want from me, Satoru?"

He continued to draw nearer, his arms closing around you until you had no choice but to lean against the stair railing, seeking any distance you could find. "You know what I want" he shot back sharply, his steps closing the distance between you. You could already feel the reassuring warmth of his body, a sensation you had missed painfully. Satoru's gaze lingering on your eyes, then descending to your lips before returning to meet your gaze.

"I can't give you that, you know that."

"That's not fair," he said softly, his lips almost brushing against yours. "Why must you be the one I can't resist?" His voice trailed off. You were only centimetres away from him, and the proximity was almost unbearable. Yet you couldn't move away, trapped in the magnetic field of his presence.

A tempest of frustration swirled within, grappling with the unfairness of it all. Somehow, two souls stumbled upon each other, yet faltered at acknowledging their own feelings, straining to shroud them. Maybe it was fear, maybe something else—but why? Why did he persist, nudging you towards confession, acknowledging that undeniable something, that magnetic pull that irresistibly drew you together? He wanted your confession. But voicing it meant a point of no return, and that path was littered with trouble.

Yet, an undeniable, searing ache, an insatiable yearning, had been quietly brewing from that very first encounter. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, a bewitching heat you'd covertly longed for. His eyes, alight with a ravenous kind of wanting, delicately traced every curve and nuance of your face, engraving each detail as if to preserve it within his very being.

Then a voice called your name, like a saving grace in this moment. Megumi rounded the corner, and peripherally you perceived him, while your gaze stubbornly remained tethered to Satoru. You caught a flicker of change in Satoru's expression. And, reluctantly, he let you walk away.

You made your way towards Megumi, who was visibly stunned by the unusually intimate scene he'd stumbled upon between you and Satoru. Your heart pounded fiercely, the ghost of Satoru's warm breath still haunting your lips. "Don't ask," you uttered quickly, seizing Megumi's wrist and pulling him along with you.

----------------

Satoru's been absent for a stretch now, and the void, bereft of any news about him, nags at you like an itch forever just out of reach. Weeks have slipped by since that painful moment on the stairs, and his face has been absent since.

While you grapple with the suddenness of his leaving, Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi seem remarkably unbothered. To them, Satoru vanishing on some mission or another secretive undertaking is nothing new. But for you, it's a whole different story. You can't push away the persistent worry that perhaps, his departure has something to do with you.

Memories of him rewind and play back in your mind. Those eyes of Satoru, deep pools that kept their secrets well. His hair, a cascade of silver under the morning sun's tender kiss. Every detail, every secret exchange of looks, every hushed word—it all reverberates through your thoughts.

"Why didn't he take us with him?" Yuji's lament yanked you back to the here and now, his question lingering heavily in the room.

Your head tilted slightly, thoughts swirling around the question. Indeed, it's been an age since you and Satoru teamed up for a mission, especially a demanding one. Recently, your assigned missions have been relatively straightforward, almost as though fate decided you needed to be consumed with other matters—such as your personal life, which has been in a troubled state since your last encounter with the white-haired sorcerer.

"He must have his reasons," Megumi responded, his tone carrying a nuance of comprehension that only further piqued your interest about Satoru's whereabouts.

After that date—or whatever that was—you and Megumi had developed a closer friendship. The times shared together evolved into treasured recollections, and, unknowingly, Megumi became your comfort, a diversion from the turmoil that was Satoru Gojo.

The initial escape from your thoughts about Satoru proved fleeting. In the first few weeks following his disappearance, your mind relentlesslyrevolved around him, despite your best efforts to suppress those thoughts. But as the months rolled on, the fervor of your emotions began to wane. Six months down the line, memories of Satoru seemed to recede into the backdrop. However, it had become unusual for him to be absent for such prolonged periods. The school concocted various imaginative excuses for his extended disappearances, but your attention to them had long since dwindled.

In a sense, his absence became a bittersweet relief. The agony of his presence, laced with unresolved feelings and lingering tension, was replaced by a serene calm. Breathing became a little easier without his looming presence subtly permeating every moment.

"Move over!" Nobara snapped at Yuji, who was hogging more than his fair share of space in front of the bonfire. The tail end of summer was nearing, and the school had arranged a bonfire to herald the onset of autumn.

You and your squad picked a spot distanced from the main throng. As the night unfolded, the levels of alcohol imbibed seemed to surge, and it was both hilarious and slightly alarming to witness your typically stoic superiors in such an unruly condition. Especially Yuji and Nobara appeared to have delved a tad too much into their beverages, with their speech beginning to blur.

Only Megumi and you kept things a bit restrained, partly out of necessity, because someone had to keep tabs on the others. This wasn't the first time a boozy get-together might devolve into scuffles or something worse.

"Come on, have another!" Nobara slurred, trying to coax Megumi, who declined with a courteous shake of his head.

"You're no fun!" she scowled, eyeing you with your water glass. "Both of you!"

"Somebody's got to keep an eye on you, especially when you're this plastered," you responded, a hint of dutifulness in your tone, considering the lively bonfire nearby.

She took an additional gulp from her glass, mumbling to herself, "You two act like an old married couple."

The comment threw you for a loop. Were you two actually that close? The idea stuck with you, even as Yuji jumped in, your unease evidently clear. "Why don't you two go out on a date?" he blurted, suddenly turning your relationship into the new subject of discussion.

Megumi, picking up on your discomfort, stepped in. "Stop spouting nonsense. Have some water," he voiced, a twinge of irritation lacing his words.

Megumi shifted towards you, a comforting expression in his eyes. "Ignore them," he suggested, and you managed a fragile smile in thanks. He tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, but before he could, Maki wandered over, delivering news that thrust your heart into a fleeting panic.

"Did you hear that Gojo's back in town?" Maki tossed the words into the space between you, and they hung there, pulling a tangible tension down around the group.

What?

"He's back? How do you know?" Megumi asked. Maki simply shrugged, her face hinting at the confidential nature of the information. "Guess it's supposed to be a secret."

"A secret?" Yuji jumped in, his expression one of outright disbelief. "Why would his return be under wraps?" Nobara piped up with her own musings. "It's not like he's ever been one to keep things low-key."

Maki responded with a flicker of irritation. "Don't ask me, hat's just what I've heard," she retorted before making herself comfortable with the group.

A whirlwind of thoughts began to spiral in your mind. Satoru was back? For how long? Why hadn't he made his way back to school? Where in the world had he been? Anxiety flowed through your veins, your throat constricting and fingers chilling in response.

"I need to—uh, grab a drink," you mumbled, desperate for an excuse to have a minute alone to gather your thoughts, justifying your abrupt leaving. Maki released a weary sigh, and given the inebriated state of the rest, they probably didn't fully grasp your sudden shift, so you swiftly made your exit from the group.

"I'll check on her," Megumi stated, his concern readily apparent. Maki showed a practiced nonchalance as Megumi rose and trailed after you.

Distancing yourself from the bonfire's warmth, you sought seclusion away from the prying eyes and merry sounds of the gathering. Your pace quickened, almost to a fledgling run, as though trying to escape something invisible yet pervasive.

Megumi managed to catch up with you, his sturdy grip encircling your wrist gently. "Are you all right?" As you turned towards him, you couldn't quite mask the frightened look etched into your features.

"What wrong?"

"I just need some fresh air," your voice betrayed you, fluttering unsteadily. Megumi's gaze, unyielding and firm, penetrated your facade. "Don't give me that crap," he responded with unwavering firmness. "I know something went down with Gojo."

Your heartbeat staggered, skipping its rhythmic pace momentarily. He knew? But to what extent? Panic began swelling within your chest. "No, all's good," you stammered, your voice fluttering like a lone leaf caught in a tempest. 

Megumi's eyes softened, his breath escaping in a sharp exhale. "You want to see him?" His words, a gentle whisper, hovered in the chilly air between you.

"See him?" Confusion replaced your fear. The possibility hadn't even occurred to you, and you wondered what Megumi was alluding to.

"I knew he was back since yesterday. I didn't tell you because I had no idea what was going on." 

Your eyes lingered on him, unable to process the flood of thoughts and feelings this revelation had unleashed. It had been an eternity since you'd laid eyes on Satoru, since his voice had caressed your ears, or you'd shared words with him. The mere inkling of his return rendered you motionless. 

"You don't need to spell it out. It's not my place," Megumi continued, infusing empathy into his voice. "I'll slide you his address. You navigate from there."

With a swift glance at his phone, Megumi dispatched a message to you, delivering the address.

"Why are you doing this for me?"

"You're my friend," he declared briefly, his gaze steadfast, anchoring into your eyes. "You matter to me."

Megumi.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

You took a heartbeat to contemplate, then gently shook your head. "No, I'll be fine," you affirmed. Megumi responded with a supportive grin. "But I'll give him hell if he hurt you again," he appended, a speck of protective fervor dancing in his tone. It was enough to coax a small, genuine chuckle from you, "Thank you."

----------------

The rain was relentless, pouring down like a deluge. The campfire must have gone out long ago, you thought as you followed the route through the downpour on your smartphone. Strands of wet hair clung to your face despite your best efforts to brush them away. You barely noticed the cold rain, your mind focused on one thing—Satoru Gojo.

Finally, you arrived at a massive building in the heart of Tokyo. You entered the large lobby of the new building and searched for Satoru's name in the elevator directory. "At the top, then," you muttered to yourself. It struck you that Satoru must have had considerable wealth to afford an apartment in such a prime location, let alone the penthouse.

The lift ride to the top took only a few seconds, but it felt like an agonising eternity. Doubts and fears swirled inside you. Was he even there? What if he didn't want to see you? But now it was too late—the lift doors slid open and at the end of the corridor you saw his nameplate on the wall. With every ounce of courage you could muster, you pressed the doorbell and brushed the wet strands of hair from your face. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing the person you had both longed for and tried to forget.

"Why are you all wet?" the white-haired man asked.

"It's raining," you replied curtly, water droplets glistening on your clothes. Satoru stepped aside and let you in.

"Didn't bring an umbrella?" his question was coupled with a playful smirk as he lobbed a towel in your direction. You caught it, the soft fabric a comforting presence in your hands.

"As if that's what you want to know right now," you countered, emotions churning violently within, far more overwhelming than the rain that had soaked you to the bone.

Standing in the middle of the living room, you could hardly believe the breathtaking view that stretched before you. The massive glass walls offered a panoramic view of more than half of Tokyo. It felt like the perfect place for tourists to view the city from above, although you couldn't begin to imagine the astronomical rent for such an apartment.

Satoru walked around the sofa and sat down, his casual posture a sharp contrast to the tense atmosphere enveloping the room. Lost in the mesmerizing scenery beyond the window, you hadn't noticed that you had been silent for a while. It was he who disrupted it, his voice laced with a teasingly sarcastic undertone. "It's quite inappropriate for a student to bother his teacher in private at home."

"Bother?" You swiveled towards him, an amused twinkle flickering in your gaze. "Certainly. You appear immensely busy, lounging in your sweatpants with chips on your table," you retorted, a playful smirk playing on your lips.

"Unbelievably busy," Satoru shot back, his voice steeped in irony as he leisurely strolled to join you by the window. "In fact, I have been busy avoiding you." The room sank back into an imposing silence, its weight suffocating within the dimly illuminated space.

"Where have you been?" Your inquiry cut through the stillness.

"Were you not planning to take your anger out on me?" Satoru responded, sidestepping your question with ease.

"I am."

Satoru lingered just a step behind you, hands casually tucked into his sweatpants, eyes gazing over the rain-soaked vastness of Tokyo beyond the window. His sheer proximity seemed to suffocate, pressing an invisible weight against your chest.

"I'm so damn angry at you," your admission hung vulnerably in the space between you, your thoughts racing. "And I'm terrified of getting hurt even more."

"Why are you here, then?" His voice was a bare whisper, coarse and soft.

"You know exactly why I'm here," your tone, wavering between resolve and vulnerability, filled the room, "—you've always been able to read me like a book, remember?"

"I know," Satoru replied, and silence enveloped the room once more. It was a kind of silence that, curiously, didn't breed discomfort. Rather, it served as a relief from the bottled up pain you both held, a momentary escape from the heartache of the past, even though confronting it was inevitable. 

His eyes anchored themselves on you. Meanwhile, your eyes lingered on the sprawling city below, watching as rain painted everything with a glossy sheen. You broke the silence first, "I've missed you," each word cut your throat like blades.

"I did the same as you," Satoru finally broke the silence. "—find someone else." His words lingered, offering an unwanted reality for you to digest.

"And how'd that play out for you?"

"Well, here I am, ain't I?" Satoru's retort was playful yet drenched in self-mockery as he took another step towards you, his form casting a looming shadow over you, his breath whispering across your shoulder.

"I realized, after cycling through all those faces, it was your damn face I was searchin' for in every one of them," he confessed, his voice low, burdened with a self-loathing that gripped his words. Exhaling a deep sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair, agitation palpable in his every move. "How messed up is that—"

"Why did it have to end like this?" you wondered aloud, more to yourself, to him, or to the universe, demanding no specific answer.

"Why?" His gaze drifted. "Suppose I'm just a damn coward."

"You're right," your agreement was blunt, unsparing. "So, you're you done with that?"

"Done with what?" Satoru's asked, fingers gently trailing down the side of your neck, causing a cascade of shivers down your spine. In that electrified stillness, the warmth of Satoru's breath against your skin sending a rush of conflicting emotions through you. The proximate intimacy—all too much yet not enough at the same time.

"—done running away,'" you said firmly, turning to face him. His ice-blue eyes locked with yours, burrowing into you with a force that seemed poised to shatter your very core. It had been so long since you had been this close to him, yet it felt instantly right, as if you had never really been apart.

"This is gonna get us into a lot of trouble," he whispered, a solitary finger delicately tracing the contour of your lower lip.

"Don't care," you said, the yearning for that long-overdue kiss evident in your eyes.

"We might catch hell at school for this," he warned, his tone half teasing, half serious, as if trying to persuade you to reconsider your actions. But having walked half of Tokyo under a weeping sky, retreat was not an option. Your heart ached for the kiss you'd craved, the flavor of his lips that had lingered in your dreams.

"I couldn't care less," you breathed out, the sound of your voice almost lost beneath the thunderous beating of your own heart. Satoru's gaze locked with yours, a magnetic pull that left your breath hitching in your chest. His lips, tantalizingly close to yours, promised the allure of a kiss forbidden. Every ounce of reason told you to pull back, to resist the gravitating force between you and Satoru Gojo, yet resistance was futile.

"So, say it," his voice, a commanding whisper. He needed your confirmation, your expressed desire as the only thing capable of holding him back from giving into the longing. He needed to hear you voice your want for him.

"I've wanted you, Satoru—," you breathed, your whisper brushing his lips, "—since the first moment I saw you."

Satoru grinned as he leaned forward, his eyes locked with yours. "What are you doing to me?" he whispered, his voice barely more than a heated murmur before his lips crushed against yours, a teasing promise of what was to come. You felt your heart racing, your body responding to his closeness, the intensity of his gaze. The world seemed to disappear around you, leaving only the two of you in this charged moment.

Satoru's kiss was desperate, a clash of lips and tongues that spoke of a hunger that had been denied for too long. It was a release of all the pent-up feelings that had simmered between you, a passionate declaration of desire mixed with a deep affection that could no longer be ignored.

Satoru's strong fingers closed around your neck, the touch both commanding and intimate, sending a shiver down your spine. With his other hand, he pressed your hip firmly against him, his desire evident in the way his body pressed against yours.

You struggled to catch your breath, the intensity of his kisses leaving you breathless and yearning for more. But in that moment, you found a strange and exhilarating solace in the overwhelming passion that had enveloped you. If this was how it was going to end, if you were going to suffocate in his kisses, it would be a beautiful, evil death, you thought. His lips devoured yours, and as you gasped for breath between heated kisses, you realised that surrendering to this powerful attraction was inevitable.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," he confessed, his voice a deep, sensual murmur that sent tingles running along your spine.

Satoru's words hung in the air, heavy with anticipation as he gasped, his breath warm against your ear. His dark eyes bored into yours, a storm of desire and longing swirling within them. The tension in the room crackled with an electric energy and you could feel the magnetic pull between you and Satoru, a force neither of you could resist.

He turned you gently, his fingers grazing your skin like a whisper, and pressed you firmly against the cold windowpane. The cityscape outside seemed to blur as your heart raced in response to the sudden intensity of his touch. Satoru's hands moved from the window to your waist, his touch setting your skin on fire as he pulled you closer, his body pressed against yours, moulding to your contours.

Satoru's touch was both insistent and gentle as he used a firm grip on your hair to tilt your head back, exposing the vulnerable curve of your neck to his relentless kisses. Your breath caught and a sensual moan escaped your parted lips as the soft, heated caress of his mouth traced a trail of fire across your sensitive skin. Your body responded instinctively, seeking his warmth and closeness, pressing against him.

As his lips worked their magic on your neck, you felt a fierce desire build between you, a pull that defied all reason. His hands moved, fingers intertwining with yours, still pressed tightly against the cool window. The contrast between the cold glass and the searing heat of his touch only added to the intensity of the moment.

His body pressed against yours and you could feel the undeniable evidence of his desire, an exciting bulge rubbing against you, sending waves of desire through your body.

Every touch, every kiss, every movement heightened the tension between you and Satoru, a palpable electricity sizzling in the air. The forbidden allure of the moment was intoxicating and you found yourself completely lost in the whirlwind of passion that had swept you both away, knowing that there was no turning back from the depths of desire that had been unleashed.

"Satoru," you moaned, your voice a breathless plea as he tightened his grip around your throat, a mixture of desire and surrender in your eyes. His fingers slid sensuously along your lips, igniting a simmering fire within you that threatened to consume your very being. The growing heat in your body seemed to tear you apart, your every nerve alive with desire. You craved more, yearned for it with an intensity that shook you to your core. For so long you had imagined what it would feel like to be kissed by him, but now that it was happening you couldn't get enough.

In a desperate burst of passion, you broke free of his grip and turned to face him. Despite your determination, he, a head taller and undeniably stronger, effortlessly pinned you back against the window once more. The cool glass pressed against your overheated skin as he pulled you into another rough, consuming kiss, leaving you no room to assert control.

Your fingers instinctively clawed at his shirt, feeling the taut muscles beneath the thin fabric as you gasped for air, the world outside the window a distant blur as your senses were drowned in a whirlwind of sensations and emotions. The fierce urgency of your encounter heightened the tension between you and Satoru, making every stolen moment together an electrifying, unforgettable experience.

His gaze bored into your soul, searching for any hint of surrender, while your heart raced in response to his closeness. You knew that surrendering to him meant losing yourself in the whirlwind of passion that seemed to follow him like a magnetic force, but you were determined not to let go of the reins just yet.

With a gentle but firm push, you held him at arm's length, your hand pressed firmly against his chest. He stared at you, his eyes filled with a mischievous gleam that made your knees tremble. Gojo Satoru was a master at this game of desire and he knew exactly how to keep you on edge.

"Afraid?" he hissed, his voice a seductive melody that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers danced slowly down your arm, teasing your skin as they went. "Or are you just testing how much control you have over me?"

You swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure as he peeled off his shirt with unhurried grace, revealing a chiseled chest that was a masterpiece of temptation.

The tension between you and Satoru escalated as you approached him. "Afraid of you?" you whispered. With a subtle yet bold move, you pushed him backwards, causing him to stumble and fall onto the sofa behind him. "—afraid that you might enjoy it too much to resist," he huffed.

The seconds felt like hours as you held your ground, resisting the magnetic pull that was Gojo Satoru. His grin only deepened, his eyes sparkling with a playful challenge. You couldn't help but admire the confidence he exuded, even as your own resolve wavered.

"Are you?" you hissed, sitting down on his lap. His surprise at your assertiveness only increased the tension between you, but he didn't utter a word of protest, allowing you to straddle his desire-fuelled anticipation.

"God, you're going to be the death of me," Satoru moaned, his breath hitching with every languid up and down movement you made. Satoru surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, his head falling back as he closed his eyes, savouring every moment of your tantalising touch. His strong hands traced the contours of your body, stoking the fire between you, and soft, uncontrollable moans slipped past his parted lips as you pressed harder against him.

Satoru's gaze met yours, his eyes smoldering with desire as you moved your hips teasingly around his eager shaft.

"I can't hold back any longer," he moaned, his voice filled with longing. "Let me fuck you already."

In response to his passionate plea, you silenced him with a deep, soulful kiss, and that was all the permission he needed. Satoru's hands found your waist and with a swift, intense motion he flipped you onto your back, his powerful presence now towering over you, ready to consume the fierce desire that had built up between you.

Your wrists were locked firmly in his grip, held securely above your head as he pressed your chest against his. His skilled fingers wasted no time in finding their way to your trousers. With a single, purposeful motion, he unfastened them and slid them down, exposing the smoldering passion that had been hidden beneath.

Sator's desire surged with each passing moment, his excitement intensifying as he meticulously, almost agonisingly, traced circles with his skilled fingers over the damp fabric of your underwear. His breath caught at the sight of your outrageous pleasure, his eyes growing increasingly intense.

"I want you so badly," Satoru whispered huskily, his lips trailing along your body, heading south. "Satoru, please," you begged, your voice shaking with frustration. The air was thick with anticipation and you couldn't stand the relentless tension any longer.

But he remained maddeningly patient, his eyes locked with yours, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips. His fingers trailed along the edge of your underwear, tugging teasingly at the fabric before finally relenting and pulling it aside. Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned closer, his hot breath sending shivers through your body.

"Not yet," he murmured, his voice a seductive promise before his lips fell on your throbbing core. A gasp escaped your lips as his tongue met your most sensitive spot and a moan followed as he began a slow, painful exploration.

The sensations were exquisite, his tongue moving languidly, each flick sending waves of pleasure through you. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate dance. He began agonisingly slowly, tracing delicate patterns with his tongue that made you arch your back in sweet torment.

As the intensity increased, so did the urgency in your moans. His pace quickened, his movements more fervent, matching the wild rhythm of your own desire. You writhed beneath him, lost in the electrifying connection, your pleas for release growing more desperate as you stood on the brink of an explosive climax.

Satoru's gaze remained fixed on you, his dark eyes burning with desire as he continued to tease you relentlessly, just as eager to drive you to the brink of release.

With every passionate moan that escaped your lips, he couldn't resist any longer. He decided he wanted to be the one to push you over the edge. Two fingers slid inside you, one after the other, causing you to gasp sharply. Your tight, wet heat clenched around his penetrating digits and he couldn't help but moan at the sensation.

"You're so hot," he whispered huskily, his fingers expertly exploring the depths of your desire. He knew exactly where to touch, where to press and how to drive you wild.

His tongue continued its tantalising dance around your swollen clit, his warm breath fanning over your sensitive flesh. The combined assault of his mouth and fingers sent waves of pleasure through your body, building your arousal to a fever pitch. As he slid his fingers along the intimate contours inside you, he zeroed in on that sweet spot that made you arch your back and cry out his name.

"Not yet," he whispered, his breath hot against your clit, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips brushed lightly across your skin as he moved up to you again. Your senses were on fire with desire, your body aching for him.

He reached for something on the coffee table, his movements confident and purposeful. With a quick motion he pulled down his sweatpants, revealing the loose boxers that barely hid his growing erection. The sight of him, so close yet teasingly out of reach, sent a surge of desire through you.

You wanted him with a desperation you didn't know was possible. The circumstances were complicated, teacher and student, a forbidden union that promised trouble. But in this moment, none of that mattered. You were lost in the intensity of your desire, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you.

As your thoughts swirled with the forbidden nature of your liaison, you failed to notice that Satoru had already wrapped himself in a condom and was now positioned at your entrance.

"We can stop anytime," he panted, his voice thick with desire, his dark eyes locked on yours. It was a feeble offer, given the point of no return you'd already reached, but you chose not to respond with words. Instead, you pulled him closer, your lips meeting in a fervent, hungry kiss. It was a passionate affirmation, your answer to his unspoken question.

Satoru seemed to enjoy your reaction and without further hesitation he thrust into you with an urgency that left you gasping for breath. His entry was swift and unyielding, and there was no time to get used to his size. You moaned his name as he pulled you tightly against him, the sensation of his body merging with yours overwhelming your senses.

The intimacy of the moment enveloped you both as he held you in his arms, his thrusts driven by a hunger that had been building for what seemed like an eternity. His moans mingled with yours, a symphony of desire that filled the room as he thrust deeper and harder, as if he'd been longing for this moment for years.

Satoru's snow-white hair cascaded around his face, obscuring his eyes as he continued his relentless rhythm. His forehead pressed gently against yours, and his fingers intertwined with yours as he quickened his pace. You couldn't help but wrap yourself around him, the pleasure overwhelming you as you arched your back off the sofa.

"God," Satoru's desperate moans filled the air, his voice a fervent plea as he plunged deeper into you. His lips sought comfort against your neck, a primal instinct to muffle his own cries of pleasure.

As the heat between you and Satoru increased, you could feel how close you were— and how close he was. He could feel it too, grabbing your jaw with one hand and forcing you to look up at him. To look at him as you came around him. And so did he. You could feel him pouring his load into you, feel the tension release from both of you and fuck did it feel good.

Satoru let go of your jaw and exhaled heavily, "Fuck," he breathed out before his lips curved into a cocky grin. He backed away from you and slowly pulled his length out of you.

He looked at you with those piercing, stormy eyes, a mischievous gleam hidden in their depths. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, a testament to the forbidden passion that had ignited between you. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he whispered, his voice laced with danger, "You're really getting me into trouble."

You struggled to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to organise the chaotic whirlwind of emotions swirling around you. Yes, he was your teacher, and while the consequences of this illicit rendezvous loomed in the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the overwhelming pull that drew you closer.

In the hazy aftermath, you found yourself staring at him through heavy-lidded eyes, his piercing, icy blue gaze locked with yours. "As if you're going to follow rules," you teased, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to regain your composure.

Satoru couldn't help but chuckle, a deep, seductive sound. "You're right about that," he admitted, his voice laced with a dangerous edge that sent a thrill through you. His hand reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers tracing a tantalising path along your skin. You knew you were playing with fire, but at that moment you couldn't bring yourself to care.

----------------

You awoke in the middle of the night, your heart still racing. The room was shrouded in shadows, but your senses were sharply aware of the man lying beside you in bed—Satoru Gojo. With the utmost caution, you slipped from under the sheets, your every movement seemingly unnoticed by his tranquil form. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a faint glow on his chiseled features. Satoru appeared to be in a deep sleep as you made your way to the kitchen.

You grabbed a glass and filled it with water, thinking about how you'd ended up here. The living room, still in disarray from your heady night, served as a reminder of what had happened just hours before. You hadn't bothered to tidy up—it was as if you'd left a trail of your intimacy for everyone to see. Your smartphone interrupted your thoughts, the screen flashed with a message from Megumi.

"Everything okay? You with Gojo?"

A tender smile played on your lips as you replied, "I'm fine. I'm with Satoru."

His reply came swift, "I'm glad you're safe," warming a little corner of your heart with its sincerity.

Megumi, with his soft and ever-supportive nature, was like a comfy pillow that was always there. Even though he might've not been the biggest fanof your whole situation with Satoru, he stuck around, always keeping an eye out for you.

You tiptoed back into the bedroom, chilly nighttime breezes whispering in through the open window. Satoru didn't stir, lost deep in his dreams. The thing between you and Gojo Satoru was like this wild, magnetic pull, ticking and tocking, drawing you in closer, second by second.

However, underneath the gentle glow of the moon, spilling into the quiet room, you wondered: just how much more wild and heady could this secret thing between you two get? Thoughts about what's next cast long shadows across your mind, but you shushed them for now. Tomorrow might be a day for doubts and facing the consequences, but tonight, tonight was all yours.

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