#except this time I didn’t die (everyone else did though)

[bbyseok]

at first sight? — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)

banner by @/bbyseok , dividers by @/bunnysrph !!

a/n: um hi. its finally here ! thanks to all who liked the teaser, this is my first jjk/gojo fic ever but i really think everyone needs some comfort after jjk chap 261.. and fuck u gege !!

content: soulmate au, gender neutral reader, minimal use of they/them pronouns for reader but gender is not specified, sorcerer reader, nicknames ‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty’, ‘baby’, fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, slowburn??, several pov switches, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end but nothing explicit, brief swearing/explicit language, brief violence/injuries, alcohol consumption, reader gets mildly drunk but nothing else, implied satosugu as past soulmates: can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, fic takes place after jjk 0 but before the show starts

analysis: this is a world filled not only with curses, but soulmates—in which you know someone is your soulmate when you first make eye contact with them. but for your case, things can get a bit complicated when someone is wearing a blindfold.

here, in this universe, you can tell that someone is your soulmate by simply looking at them. so with that, the saying of “love at first sight” is actually pretty accurate here. you see them for the very first time and barely know the person and yet, somehow, they’re the one you’re destined to be with.

with that, you’d think it’d be pretty common for two random people to run into each other while crossing the street or something and bam! suddenly you’ve found the supposed love of your life!

and you? well, for you, that hasn’t happened yet.

to be fair, it’s not like you’re actively trying to look for your soulmate. handling curses as a jujutsu sorcerer is difficult enough. (maybe you’ll run into them one day after saving them from a curse or something. how romantic!)

it’s better to leave it up to fate. it’s fate who decided your pairing anyway, right?

your transfer to jujutsu tech had been fairly smooth. after being stationed in kyoto for a while, tokyo was a nice change of pace.

coincidentally, you had been out of the country during the incident known as the night parade of a hundred demons. a scary event that proved the threat of curse users to be formidable.

because of that, your decision to transfer to tokyo seemed like the right thing to do. and so far, it’s been decent.

it’s a nice change of scenery. the students are aspiring; while maki and megumi aren’t the friendliest, they’re warming up to you. toge and panda are gradually improving.

nanami’s pessimistic outlook on jujutsu society and shoko’s overall unenthusiastic demeanor are certainly interesting for the most part, but your coworkers are pleasant to be around.

well. except for one.

gojo satoru knows that you are his soulmate. he has indeed known this fact right from the very start, ever since your first meeting.

even with his blindfold on, he could see your own eyes before him. his six eyes can see everything. the thing is.. he didn’t know he could have another soulmate.

his situation with geto suguru is something he doesn’t talk about with anyone. maybe shoko at times, but even then, it’s rare. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but it’s pretty hard to talk about.

after suguru defected, gojo could still obviously feel their bond. even though they were no longer together as the strongest duo, did it really matter when their souls were still connected to one another? it was a factor that played in avoiding (and perhaps meeting up with) each other as the years went by.

satoru felt their bond die that day after the events with okkotsu and rika. and it had frightened him. that lingering presence of the bond was no longer there.

so imagine his surprise when he sees you.

a new sorcerer in kyoto, now transferred to tokyo. normally, gojo doesn’t seek out the new recruits, but yaga had dragged him over regardless. besides, he might as well get to know his possible assistant teacher that would be helping him out with the new first years.

“i guess i can check out some new faces,” he relented with a sigh, adjusting his blindfold and looking to the side as yaga’s steps slowed as they approached you.

gojo rolled his eyes–not that you’d see it anyway–as yaga introduced you with your name and your sorcerer grade. he stopped to stand next to the principal.

you extended your hand to offer a handshake, and gojo finally turned his head.

that feeling as his gaze fell upon yours beneath the blindfold was familiar—frighteningly so—and unfamiliar at the same time. as if he could breathe for the first time in ages. your eyes are unaware, but they’re so revealing to him.

satoru stuttered in his movements, reluctantly taking your hand. the skin that touched yours felt like it was on fire. he briefly held on to see if you felt it too.

but you simply smiled up at him.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo,” you said, blissfully unaware of the revelation currently dawning on the man before you and the turmoil it brought as he abruptly retracted his arm back.

gojo stiffened. he merely offered a curt nod before turning on heel and walking away briskly. he could faintly hear yaga protest about his sudden departure before apologizing to you hastily. satoru shook his head.

how was this be possible? how could the universe give him two soulmates? he didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. he wondered if there had been a similar occurrence before.

gojo couldn’t help but feel nauseous. was this the world playing some sort of sick, cruel joke on him? or was it perhaps giving him a second chance?

and truthfully, it wasn’t like gojo even wanted another soulmate. not after what he had been through with suguru. he hadn’t given it much thought.

was it really worth it?

what if he couldn’t protect you too?

so satoru had decided on one thing that day: the blindfold stays on. concealing his eyes from the world not only for him, but for your sake too. he was certain in his choice; he would never tell you the truth.

as far as you were concerned, you haven’t met your soulmate yet.

and never will.

your first meeting with gojo wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something you could describe as good either. you’ve been left with the impression that he’s cocky and indifferent.

and that he doesn’t like you.

it’s been around.. two? three weeks? it’s been a while since your encounter with the white-haired sorcerer, and you’ve only seen a few glimpses of him here and there on campus.

okay, he doesn’t display any outright mean or ill intention towards you. on the very rare times the two of you do interact, he is obviously curt and clipped. seems like he’s deemed you worthy of the only either nods or one word responses.

you’ve yet to actually participate in a lesson or mission with gojo, but you prefer it that way. providing individual training and advice for the upcoming second years has been going great. at this point, you’re sure it’d only be awkward.

besides, the strongest sorcerer alive doesn’t necessarily need assistance in dealing with curses after all. that much is understandable.

you’re currently in the teachers’ lounge room with nanami. even though he isn’t actually a teacher, he pays visits sometimes. he’s good company anyway.

“it’s nice to hear that you’re settling in well,” the blonde says with a nod. he loosens his necktie absentmindedly as he adjusts the newspaper in his lap. “especially with that gojo around. he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

you frown at the mention of the sorcerer, crossing your arms. you’re seated across from nanami, watching him idly look through the newspaper.

“oh, well, actually, he isn’t too much trouble. for me, at least,” you reply, brows furrowing, “he barely talks to me.” (in fact, he seems to avoid you like you’re carrying the plague or something.)

nanami looks up, raising a brow. “huh. you should be grateful then.” he then hums, “but maybe that’ll change once there’s actually new first year students to teach. you both are assigned to them after all.”

you lean back in your seat, your shoulders committing to a halfhearted shrug. “maybe. it’s not like i never did anything bad to him though..”

nanami sighs gruffly. “don’t think about it too much.” before he can continue, there’s the sound of footsteps. nanami brings his newspaper back up, muttering, “speak of the devil.”

“nanamiiii!” gojo’s voice sounds from around the corner. it almost startles you how lively he sounds. you realize you’ve never actually heard or seen how he acts without you around.

nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.

gojo strolls in enthusiastically, blindfold on. “heyy, nanami, we should-” he cuts off when he presumably sees you, falling quiet and stopping short.

you blink, a bit hurt. does he dislike you that much? but you don’t let it show, resorting to greeting him politely like you usually do when you occasionally pass each other.

“good afternoon, gojo,” you muse, offering a little wave.

nanami notices his reaction too, but doesn’t comment on it. he continues to ignore the sorcerer’s presence in fact, eyes still roaming over the newspaper.

gojo clears his throat and resumes his pace. “afternoon,” he responds, focusing his attention back on nanami. he reaches the two of you, giving you no further acknowledgment.

you don’t care if he can see you looking at him, you opt to stare at the black blindfold covering his face. you have a hunch that he can see, or at least feel, you staring at him.

“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”

nanami emits an exasperated sigh, but stands nonetheless to follow gojo out of the room for some discussion not meant for your ears apparently, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

do you make gojo uncomfortable? you don’t know what you could’ve possibly done so though. from what you’ve heard from the others, he can be rather eccentric and overbearing.

does he just not like you? perhaps he views you as inferior, too below his level and power to actually converse with you. while it seems a bit of a stretch, you’re sure it’s not out of the possibility also based on what you’ve heard about him from others.

your frown returns. before you can dwell on it any longer, nanami comes back into the room. “well, i certainly see what you mean from what you said about gojo earlier,” he announces.

his words do nothing to falter your frown. “right.” you then shrug once more, “it’s okay. it’s just a bit.. strange.” you then shake your head, trying to be a bit optimistic. “but also like you said earlier, that might change! who knows?”

who knows, indeed.

megumi tucks the cursed tools inside their designated box and closes the lid. he moves on to the next one right as gojo enters the shed, beaming a smile.

“hey, megumi. you almost done wrapping up things here?” satoru asks, undoing his blindfold naturally. there’s a pair of glasses in his hand ready for use.

the teen nods. they had used a few cursed tools during training session today, and the storage did need a bit of tidying up. “almost done.”

satoru makes a noise of approval as he places his glasses on. “great! do you need help setting up your dorm room?” he looks excited at the idea, still grinning.

meanwhile, megumi looks disinterested at his offer. “no thanks. i think it’ll be easy enough. it’s not like i’m decorating it anyway.”

“oh, boo.” but gojo doesn’t insist on it any further. he actually falls strangely quiet, which causes megumi to glance at him curiously.

his teacher looks.. distraught. it’s hard to actually tell, but he seems to be looking at the floor, maybe lost in thought. before megumi can say anything, gojo’s expression changes and he starts talking again.

“you’re, uh, with the new teacher for tomorrow,” gojo then informs. he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the floor absentmindedly. (he’s fidgeting. subtly.) “it’ll just be you two, i think, on a small mission. so they can get used to actually working with students on field. it’ll be good for the both of you.”

megumi nods. he tilts his head afterward. “you can say their name, you know. it won’t kill you,” he says a bit pointedly, “and they’re not technically new anymore. it has been a few weeks now since they’ve joined the school.”

“right, right.” megumi’s face scrunches up as gojo’s hand comes down to ruffle his hair gently. (a habit that has not died since his younger days.) “whatever you say, megumi.”

despite your minimal interactions and his rather closed off demeanor, megumi is actually one of your favorite students. (and yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have favorites, but oh well.)

your mission with megumi, or rather, the mission you’ve been assigned to supervise the student on, is rather simple.

there’s been reports of a low grade curse roaming the premises of a supermarket neighboring a nearby cemetery, so megumi is to obviously exorcise it under your watch. the area has been closed off with a small veil. megumi had decided to check the parking lot first for any lingering traces, so here you are.

“i think we’re good here,” the teenager confirms as his demon dogs return to his feet, seemingly in the clear. you nod and let him lead the way towards the inside of the store.

as the two of you begin to walk down each aisle with one of the demon dogs trailing behind, megumi says your name in an inquisitive tone. “what do you think of gojo-sensei?”

the sudden question has you blinking in surprise. your eyes scan megumi as you both continue to trek down the aisle. “what makes you ask?”

“no reason.” he doesn’t meet your gaze.

you bite down on your lip in contemplation. you’re not sure what brings this question to mind for him, but you’re willing to indulge him for now. “well.. i think he’s.. alright.” you pause. “as a sorcerer, i admire his strength. though, i think a lot of people think that obviously.”

“and as a person?” megumi presses, turning to investigate the next aisle. he still doesn’t glance over to you, still preoccupied with searching for the curse.

(hell, for a teenager, he sure is perceptive.)

you choose your words carefully, thinking it over with a brief pause.

“i’ll admit, i don’t think i know him well enough to be sure. as a person, i think he’s.. self-centered and rude. sometimes, i see him act very carefree in a way. he’s.. obscure, i guess.” you clear your throat and reiterate, “but again, i don’t really... know him.”

you can see megumi go over your words silently. the quiet continues. the conversation seems to be dying, but it doesn’t matter when monstrous gurgling sounds up ahead.

a curse appears in front of you, the shelving of the aisles toppling over as it gargles some unintelligible roar. megumi doesn’t hesitate, using his technique to summon his demon dogs once more to swiftly engage in combat.

the fight is easily handled in three minutes top. (they weren’t kidding when they said it’d be easy.)

after the commotion has settled, you allow megumi to do one more check up around the store just in case. just as you are prepared to exit and bring down the veil, you decide it’s your turn to ask him now.

“and what about you, megumi?” you inquire lightly, giving one of the demon dogs a few head pats for their good work. “what exactly do you think of gojo?”

megumi hums.

“i agree with most of what you said actually,” he answers honestly, causing you to chuckle in amusement. the teenager tilts his head and finally looks at you. “but i also think he’s kind when he wants to be.”

his frontward honesty surprises you once more. this kid sure is something. you believe his words; he has no reason to lie to you, especially about gojo of all things. still, you poke at him teasingly, “really now?”

you don’t really expect him to answer, but then megumi says in a mumble so quiet that you nearly miss it.

“well, he did sort of raise me after all.”

“i just don’t think he likes me, shoko,” you puff out a sigh, watching as she puffs out smoke. “i’ve seen the way he is around other people, and he’s not like that with me.”

she’s on break right now, so you thought you could talk to her about a certain blindfolded sorcerer who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

it’s interesting to hear about the different sides of gojo satoru from your peers. from nanami, you’ve learned that he’s pretentious and troublesome. from megumi, that he can be caring in his own way. and shoko?

“he’s crazy.” the doctor waves her cigarette at you with a shrug of her shoulders. “but it beats me on why he doesn’t particularly like you.”

you groan, slouching in one of the chairs set up in the infirmary. “maybe i should’ve stayed in kyoto,” you mumble. it’s more of a joke than anything; your.. weird terms with gojo isn’t enough to actually deter you.

but shoko puts the cigarette back to her lips and tilts her head. “want me to ask him about it?”

you straighten your posture abruptly and look at her. “what? you don’t have to. he might think i asked you to or something.”

she shrugs again. “your call.”

your brows furrow. “maybe we just got off on the wrong foot somehow. even though all i did was shake his hand.” you snort. “maybe i can get him something to break the ice. what does he like?”

shoko doesn’t even hesitate. “sweets. he likes his sweets.”

oh. oh, okay! you blink and nod. who would’ve thought? the strongest sorcerer in the world likes sweets. “i can handle sweets.”

you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.

why are there so many? you’re at a local bakery staring at the rows and rows of pastries they have on display, looking as if you’re trying the decipher the world’s hardest math problem.

shoko never specified what kind of sweets he liked during your conversation with her a couple days ago. cake? ice cream? cookies? you might as well buy the whole damn store at this point with your luck. the last thing you want is to buy him something he won’t actually eat.

“oh, fuck it,” you mutter and finally decide on a small piece of cake. it happens to be your favorite kind of cake, but oh well. if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it! it’s the thought that matters anyway, right?

as you exit the shop with your newly acquired dessert, you try to devise a way to give it to him. do you just.. hand it to him? or maybe it’ll be better to leave it in his office. or have shoko give it to him!

ughh, who knew how hard it’d be to give a man a cake? okay, okay. you’ll simply give it to him in person since he’ll know it’s directly from you. problem solved.

well, actually, problem is not solved. how are you supposed to give the cake to gojo in person when you have absolutely no clue where he is right now? after returning to the school, he’s no where to be found, so you eventually turn to yaga for help.

“he’s on a mission where??”

you stare at yaga with wide eyes as he names some city so far away you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find an affordable ride to get you there in a reasonable amount of time.

“oh, alright,” you say, feeling a little disappointed. the cake suddenly feels a little too big and heavy in your hands.

the principal’s gaze flickers down to your little intended treat for his former student. “these kinds of missions are no trouble for satoru. i’m sure he’ll be back soon, so you can leave that in his office.”

you brighten up at that and nod. “thank you, yaga.” you then dismiss yourself with a polite bow after he informs you where gojo’s office is exactly, and you start to make your way there.

it’s only a few minutes until you get there. you open the door and catch sight of a desk. it looks rather plain, which is understandable since it doesn’t seem like he uses this space often. (though, there is a chair that looks more expensive than your entire rent.)

either way, you walk inside and set the container down on the desk with a small sigh. hopefully the gesture is appreciated! if he really does have a sweet tooth like shoko says, you’re not sure why he’d turn it down. again, you can only hope.

you sigh again and turn to leave when the sound of the door creaking open sounds again. you freeze in place when it swings out fully, revealing the very man you were thinking about.

(yaga was not kidding when he said that gojo finishes his missions pretty fast.)

gojo perks up at the sight of you in his office, and even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s got a surprised look on his face. “can i help you.. or do you have a reason on why you’re snooping around in my office?” he inquires, walking in.

while not evidently hostile, his appearance and words suddenly have you anxious. “oh, well, i-’’ you want to mentally smack yourself for fumbling over your words. “i’m sorry for intruding. i, uh, just wanted to leave you a little something.”

it’s only then does gojo look past you and makes a small noise. you can’t really decipher it, but you watch as he walks by you to open the small packaging to see the slice of cake meant for him.

and when he makes a small noise again, you can tell it’s one of delight. “you got me.. cake?” he asks, looking to you again questioningly.

“i did,” you clarify with a small nod, summoning a small smile and rubbing the back of your neck a bit sheepishly, “i didn’t know what kind of sweet you would like, so i just ended up choosing my favorite cake. um, i really hope you don’t mind the flavor, but if you don’t you really don’t have to eat it so-”

“kikufuku.”

you stare at him, confused. “what?”

“kikufuku,” satoru reiterates, and it’s his turn to smile. (it nearly catches you off guard because although very small, it’s pretty.) “s’my favorite. or.. one of my favorite sweets. crepes are good too.”

his newfound friendliness has you smiling a bit more evidently, pleased that this interaction is your most pleasant one with him so far in the weeks you’ve been here. “oh, okay,” you chuckle, “noted.”

gojo opens the container and unwraps the plastic fork that had came with it. he takes a bite of the cake and hums in approval. “can see why it’s your favorite. it’s not bad.”

your face lightens up at that. “oh, i’m glad.”

he hums, popping another slice of cake into his mouth. “any particular reason on why you’ve decided to give me cake, if i may ask?”

you falter once more, now nervous in telling that you’re hoping to.. resolve this one-sided tension with you. ultimately, you decide to be straightforward, inhaling deeply and looking at him. (well, his blindfold.)

“well, i’m not an idiot, gojo. you haven’t exactly been.. friendly to me. i’m not trying to win you over or anything, but if we’re going to work together with the first year students, consider this a gift for a truce. or um, a peace offering so we can act somewhat decent with each other.”

the white-haired sorcerer falls silent at your confrontation. you’re half expecting him to brush you off and walk out of the room entirely. especially since he seems to have stiffen up (similarly to the way when you first met, you had noticed).

he seems to contemplate for a bit. you don’t know where he’s looking at; the floor, the cake in his hands, you? it’s suddenly nerve-wracking.

“you’re right,” he finally speaks up, “i.. i’m sorry for my previous behavior towards you. can we start over?” he places the cake aside and walks back over to you to hold out his hand.

“gojo satoru.”

your eyes flicker to his blindfold to his hand, then back to where his eyes are hidden underneath. the rumored powerful and breaktaking six eyes concealed from your ever so curious sight.

against your better judgment, you repeat your name and take his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”

your new relationship with gojo is steadily becoming better. he’s no longer curt with you, and actually engages in conversations even with no other people around.

though, you can’t help but feel like he’d avoiding looking at you for some reason. which is pretty far off since you can’t technically see where he’s looking, but it’s a hunch you have nonetheless.

but hey, it’s progress, progress that you’re somewhat happy about.

like now, as satoru leans over your shoulder to peer at the clipboard in your hands. you’ve just finished wrapping up a lesson with the soon-to-be second years out on the field.

“ooh, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow, teach?” he pries.

“assistant teach,” you remind him teasingly, going over the contents of the clipboard. “more sparring. oh, and the registration for that new first year.”

“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.

you nod. “yep. a.. kugasaki nobara. we won’t actually get to meet her, but arrangements for her arrival are getting finalized.”

“oh, boo. s’just more paperwork,” the sorcerer beside you whines, kicking at the grass.

“at least megumi isn’t the only one now,” you point out and finally turn to him.

just as you expected, satoru glances away to look at panda and toge finishing up. you squint at him narrowly but don’t comment on it.

“that’s true. not like that kid cares anyway, but it’ll be good for him,” gojo agrees airily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

you eye him. “hey, gojo?”

“yeah?” his head remains turned to the students. (further proving your point! you feel like you’re collecting evidence here; the gojo satoru cannot look at you in the eye!)

you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”

he perks up at that. (like a puppy, really. it almost makes you laugh.) “mm, whatever happened to not trying to win me over with sweets?” he teases.

you laugh at that then, shaking your head in soft denial. “no- that’s not what i-”

“well, you did said kikufuku.." satoru interrupts you with a dramatic sigh and heave of his shoulders, “so how could i ever possibly resist?”

satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.

“care to join me?”

but you smile up at him cheekily, and he hates the way the sunlight is hitting your features just right. it looks like the color of your eyes is glistening.

you’re just.. lying down on the grass of one of the training fields, admiring the drifting formations of white clouds on the blue canvas that is the sky.

satoru keeps telling himself that shouldn’t be doing this. his first mistake was accepting your cake. allowing himself to get closer to you. but when you look at him like that, he feels like he can do anything. which is odd, becaues really, he can do anything. it goes without saying as his status as the strongest.

but with you, it’s starting to feel a bit different.

when he doesn’t give you an immediate answer, you tilt your head and continue to blink up at him. “you can see the sky even with your blindfold on, right?”

he snorts. “yeah, i can.”

you pat the space on the grass next to you welcomingly, a beckoning that he just can’t resist again. “well, come on and join me,” you persist.

he hesitates, shifting his weight on his legs for a moment. against his better judgement, he joins you. it’s surprisingly comfortable, he finds, as he kicks out his legs and sighs.

it’s a comfortable silence that it’s almost startling. how easy it is just to be around you. (which is the exact reason why he had been avoiding you in the start, in fear of slipping up around you. he still might.)

“you get headaches, right? if you don’t cover your eyes.”

he chuckles at your question. “yeah.” it’s a half truth, half lie. he does get headaches, but for another reason now. you can’t get out of his head. (he’s got a suspicious feeling it’s because the soulmate bond is incomplete. but again, that’s just a theory of his.)

“‘m’sorry. that sucks.” you pout subconscously, still looking up at the sky to admire it.

he scoffs fondly, clapsing his hands over his stomach. “it’s no biggie. you think headaches can take down gojo satoru?”

“hey now, tough guy. they can take down me sometimes.”

(he’d fight off headaches from you if he could.) his heart is thudding against his ribcage, warning him. but he doesn’t heed the warning, and continues to lay down with you on the grass.

it’s a nice feeling. he doesn’t feel like the greatest sorcerer in the world with his colleague. it feels like he’s just satoru, pointing out the different shapes and animals you can spot in the sky with his soulmate.

“hey, that one looks like you!”

“hah?!”

“i’m guessing you and gojo-sensei are getting along now,” megumi bluntly comments.

it catches you off guard slightly, and you can’t help but laugh. (of course he had noticed how the both of you interacted from the beginning.) “oh, uh, yeah.”

and as you watch satoru go down the steps of the stairs to head over to you both whilst waving an arm with much more enthusiam than needed, you can’t help but smile.

“yeah, we are.”

this is a mistake. he shouldn’t be doing this.

but satoru can’t help but be so selfish, selfish in indulging in your looks, in your scarce touches. when you had confronted him with your peace offering as you had so called it, he had given in.

and now he’s spending more time with you. be it after lessons with the students, on random days where you have nothing to do, during weekends when there’s no authorities to bother him—he can’t help it.

was it the bond wanting to be complete? you were still unaware of his true identity, of what he could possibly mean to you, so why does he feel like he needs to be so close? he gets antsy at times when you’re not in his sight. it’s starting to affect him.

the soulmate bond, or lack of it—that has to be the only explanation for it. because he knows that you’re his soulmate, he’s subconsciously drawn to you and your presence. (it’s definitely not because he likes the way you smile, or laugh, or-)

fuck.

after a relatively tough mission, you’re obviously sent to see shoko. you’re not fatally harmed, maybe a scratch here and there. and okay, maybe a gash on your shoulder..

it had been enough to sort of knock you off your feet, but you’re fine. totally. exorcising a semi grade two curse at 1 a.m. in the morning was no biggie at this point.

once she’s finished tending to your wound, she dusts off her hands and places them on her hips. “you’re all set.”

you smile gratefully. “thanks, sho. can always count you to patch me up.”

she snorts. “well, it is my job.”

gojo suddenly appears right next to the table and you yelp, startled by his teleportation. shoko, on the other hand, looks unfazed, as if she’s used to this.

“gojo!” you blink, your voice taking a scolding tone soon after, “geez, you scared me! what’re you still doing awake??”

the blindfolded man falters, looking apologetic. “sorry. heard you got back from your mission.” he sounds worried, but before he can voice his concern, shoko rolls her eyes.

“they’ll be fine,” she says.

gojo’s shoulders finally drop down and he plays off his previous display of concern with a laugh. “ahaha, yeahhh, i knew that,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand, “i can’t bless you two with my presence?”

shoko gives him a displeased look before she turns around to tidy up her tools. you chuckle at her annoyance. “thanks for checking up on me, satoru,” you say sincerely. your eyes go over his appearance; he’s dressed more casually: a pair of dark slacks and shirt that expose his collarbones. not that you’re.. particularly looking.

but his shoulders seem tense again at your words and he hums quietly. (huh, strange. at least he’s not refusing to look at you anymore, you think.)

“well, i say this calls for a little celebration,” satoru suddenly purrs in delight, waving his hands in the air.

“celebration? for me getting kinda beat up?” you blow a raspberry at him, only for him to blow one at you right back. even though you had done it first, you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics.

he grins at that, then shakes his head. “heyy, i heard you beat up a semi grade two curse!” he says, “i think that does call for a celebration, does it not?”

you stare at him, unsure on whether he’s joking or not. wait, how did he even know that? well, maybe he had gone through the mission reports and assignments. still, you’re surprised that he knows. “you can wipe those out in less than a minute, gojo,” you point out with a raised brow, “don’t try and humor me.”

his grin lessens. “well, yeah, s’kinda easy for me, but i think that goes without saying. you’re telling me don’t wanna celebrate an accomplishment of yours?”

you look to shoko who is almost finished with cleaning up. she just shrugs. you look back to satoru and shrug yourself whilst rolling your eyes. “alright, we can celebrate.”

gojo fist bumps the air. and here you are again, giggling at him.

eventually, when he leads you out of the infirmary and to the teachers’ lounge. he digs through one of the fridges and hands you a bottle of what seems to be alcohol.

“i didn’t even know this was allowed here,” you mumble, settling down on what of the high chairs near the counter. you wiggle in your seat to get comfortable as gojo takes the one next to you.

you offer it to him but he shakes his head, nose scrunching up a little. “i don’t drink.”

“wasn’t this your idea?” you blink. “suit yourself, more for me.” you shrug and open the bottle to pour yourself a glass. and another. and another. and then another.

(you don’t know what particularly drives you to keep drinking as you talk with him, but perhaps it’s the way you know that satoru’s eyes are lingering just underneath the blindfold. you can practically feel his stare.)

and gojo watches you gradually drink yourself to being mildly drunk.

“okay, no more for you,” he laughs as he takes the bottle away from you and holding it above your head when you try to reach for it.

“awh, man.” you pout and rest your head on your arms on the table, looking at him the best you can. “you meanie. you got me drunk on purpose. give it back.”

he snickers, amused and endeared by your drunk antics as he pushes the bottle aside. “sorry. you’ll thank me later, pretty.”

pretty. he’s never called you that before. you wanna hear him say it again. (amongst some other things.)

“pretty.. you’re pretty. i bet your eyes are pretty too,” you say into your sleeve, your other hand reaching out to his blindfold, “everyone else says they’re v’ry pretty.”

he leans back to avoid your hand, heart pounding in his chest a little too loud for his liking. he wonders if you can hear it. “sure. i guess they are,” he says softly with a small chuckle.

“i wonder who my soulmate is,” you then mumble out. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s your incoherent slurring, but you sound.. sad.

before he can dwell on it, you’re slurring out another question that has come to your head.

“d’you have a soulmate?”

satoru’s eyes widen under the blindfold. he knows that you’re drunk. that you’re just saying things. but your hazy eyes stare up at him with a glint that makes his heart lurch.

and you won’t remember a thing in the morning, right?

before he can answer, you’re out like a light.

you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.

with a groan, you sit up in what seems to be a bed that seems way to be to be your own, legs kicking the sheets that had been draped over you in alarm.

you have no idea where you are, but there’s a glass of water along with some painkillers on the nightstand beside you, which you down gratefully. there’s also the smell of food coming from outside the room.

you can piece two and two together that you’re probably in the home of someone you know.. your brain racks for information of what had happened last night but it’s only causing it to ache even more.

gojo.

you shake your head and make your way to what seems to be the bathroom to tidy yourself up. you notice that your’re still clad in your clothes of last night, so gojo had done the courtesy of tucking you in.

after you’re done, you take a deep breath and head outside.

you navigate your way down the hallway and follow the smell of food. as you turn the corner, you catch the sight of satoru in the kitchen. not that you doubted that the greatest sorcerer could cook, but for some reason, he looks so domestic.

he’s simply wearing sweats and a loose fitting shirt, your back turned to you as he tends to the stove, but the mere sight of it has your heart leaping into your throat. you have a feeling that it’s a sight meant for you, for you to see.

you don’t no how long you stand there, but suddenly a laugh rings through the kitchen from satoru teasingly. “take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”

you yelp, embarrassed. (sweetheart? you try not to think about it, but you hate the way it makes your heart leap again. he’s just.. messing with you.) “erm.. sorry. good morning, gojo.” you approach the kitchen and take a seat at the counter.

when he finally turns to you, he’s not wearing his usual black blindfold, but instead what seems to be white bandages. you haven’t seen it on him before, but you don’t comment on it though.

he says good morning back before serving you some food, which you thank him for gratefully. “thank you for the painkillers too. i didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did i?” you inquire, half jokingly.

you try to remember what had happened last night, but your memories are still a bit hazy. all you can recall is talking with him about things and staring at him. (you’re not going to tell him that though.)

“nah,” he waves off, “just told me your darkest secrets, s'all.”

you straighten up. “what?”

“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.

you groan and drag your plate to you. “i didn’t know you could cook.”

satoru looks mildly offended, emitting a dramatic gasp as he waves the spatula at you in a petulant manner. “hey now, i’m no expert. but i can at least make some sort of breakfast.”

(he totally did not look up a tutorial on how to cook for you. definitely not. but he’s a natural at everything, so at least his naturally gifted skill is in his favor this time.)

“thank you, gojo.” a smile tugs at the edges of your mouth.

“satoru.”

“what?”

“c’mon, you’re literally eating breakfast in my kitchen,” he laughs, sliding a mug of coffee (probably with extra cream and sugar because it’s gojo) towards you across the counter. “satoru’s fine.”

you test the name on your tongue, paying little attention to the way it makes the man before you stiffen up as you grab the coffee. “satoru.. thanks, satoru.” you think you can get used to saying that.

(he does too.)

satoru turns away back to the stove. “you’re welcome.”

“hey satoru, what did you say what you wanted again? i’m thinking bubble tea but i dunno..”

he likes the way his name sounds from you.

“uh, satoru? satoru? helloo, earth to gojo satoru? satoru!”

oh.

fuck, he hadn’t realized he had spaced out. gojo lifts his head in a sudden motion, making a surprised noise. he smiles sheepishly. “what’s up?”

“you feeling alright, satoru?” you tilt your head.

keep saying his name.

“awhh, i’m feeling more than alright, sweetheart.” he shoots you a grin, liking the way your eyes reflect the café lights, giving it a warm hue. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“you seem to be in a good mood lately,” megumi points out. ijichi, in the front see, looks at the two of them through the rear view in silent agreement.

(a lot of people have noticed actually.)

gojo pauses, halfway through unwrapping the plastic of a popsicle. it’s the same one he used to consume during his youth, but his taste really hasn’t changed after all this time. “oh?”

the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”

gojo merely hums and pops the icy treat into his mouth.

“heh, i guess i am.”

you can hear gojo and shoko’s voices coming from the infirmary, causing you to smile absentmindedly. you didn’t think you’d be enjoying their company this much in the recent months—especially satoru’s.

(strangely, it feels so natural to be around him, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. you try to write it off as spending so much time together for a while now, but you can’t lie when you say he doesn’t make the stomach churn with butterflies.)

you turn the corner and announce your presence to the two with a smile and wave. you catch sight of them when they glance over to you, noticing something different.

shoko is wearing her usual white coat with a cigarette in hand, but she’s got her hair tied up in a rare bun to keep any strands from her face.

but that’s not what’s different as your gaze strays to the man next to her, the familiar frame of gojo catching you a bit off guard.

he’s wearing his glasses.

you’ve never seen him wear anything but his blindfold.

how does he look even more breathtaking than without it? you can’t see his eyes still, no—it’s a deep, deep shade of blue that still blocks his gaze from anyone else. but it’s a more casual look, seeing as his hair isn’t being help up and a few strands fall down and you can see his sharp facial features a bit more and-

and then he’s gone.

you audibly make a sound of confusion and hurt, because one moment he’s there and the next he’s no where to be seen. he had vanished without a single world.

he’s fucking avoiding you again; the realization of it makes your throat close up. after all you had been through with satoru.

“what the fuck was that?”

shoko stares at the space gojo had just been standing, just as lost as you.

there’s a distance between the two of you again. it’s painstakingly familiar to when you had first met gojo and he had kept himself strictly professional with you.

and you don’t know why.

it’s back to the cold shoulder from him; you’re seeing him less and less around campus, and those times where you did hang out off duty are practically a thing of the past now.

satoru is going to be the death of you one day, you’re sure of it.

and you and satoru aren’t even.. a thing.

then again, you’re not even sure what you are. you’re friends, yes, that’s much more than clear, but why does it feel so much more intimate than that despite the fact that the two of you have never even done anything?

however.. a part of you knows that you want more. more of those days lying in the grass with him, more of those mornings eating breakfast with him in his home, more of those afternoon café runs, more of everything with satoru.

is that why does it hurts so much now that he’s pushed you away again?

satoru is praying that you’re not in there with shoko as he approaches the infirmary a week later. she had called him over, and though he could’ve easily refused, he found himself obliging anyway.

“hey, what was that the other day?”

shoko is blunt and straight to the point once he arrived, striking him with a petulant and expectant gaze with her tired eyes.

gojo blinks innocently, tilting his head at shoko. “what was what?”

shoko then rolls her eyes. “you know what i’m talking about. what was that. you just- walked out like they we’re going to kill you or something.”

that’s the thing. you just might.

the white-haired man frowns and continues to feign innocence. he’s starting to wonder why he bothered coming here. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

his avoidance causes shoko to frown as well and she crosses her arms. “you’re doing the same thing that you did with them when they first joined here.”

when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “avoiding them, pushing them away. i thought you didn’t have any problems with them. at this point, make up your mind because you’re just toying with their feelings and it’s not going to-”

“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.

shoko is cut off, staring at him all wide-eyed for once. “you’re kidding.”

satoru falters. “i’m not. s’why i always wear the blindfold. and that’s why i.. i ran that night. just my glasses was too risky.”

what if he had angled his head the wrong way, what if you saw his eyes, what if you finally realized that you were fated to be together at the whims of the universe? he couldn’t do that to you.

“how long have you-”

“since we first met. i.. i could see it because of six eyes,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why. i didn’t think i could have another one after-”

the two fall quiet at the mention of suguru, a heavy feeling hanging in the air between them.

“what are you going to do?” shoko asks quietly.

satoru sounds wrecked. “..i don’t know.”

“well.” shoko smushes her cigarette against the surface of the metal table. “you better do something before it’s too late.”

unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.

(the push and pull that has been going on between the pride of the gojo clan and a random transferred sorcerer from kyoto. nothing goes unseen by their tight hold on jujutsu society.)

and you are none the wiser when you’re an assigned a mission late so at night, at a secluded edge of tokyo. you would’ve questioned it, but after looking over the details, it seems easy enough since it was a low level curse.

ijichi drops you off near the location and bids you luck. the night is dark, with the shape of the moon only peaking out every now and then due to the clouds to offer minimum light, and then the veil is coming up.

it’s fine though, as you start walking to get this over with. the faster, the better.

what the fuck? the cursed energy here is much stronger than you had anticipated, almost as if it’s suffocating. now uneasy, you continue your search with more caution.

a low growl sounds from somewhere behind you, and you turn on heel to brace yourself in case the curse decides to catch you off guard with an unexpected attack.

your heart drops.

it’s a grade one curse.

something’s not right.

satoru can feel it. he can sense it in the air. something is lingering, a presence that makes even him feel uneasy, and he doesn’t know why. nothing makes him feel uneasy. but it’s a gut feeling, it’s the bond tugging and tugging and-

you.

something’s not right.

and then gojo is teleporting and finding ijichi in record time, giving the poor man a scare. gojo’s voice is on edge and leaves no room for argument as he demands the assistant director where he had driven you minutes prior. the veil still stands, undisturbed.

fuck, fuck, fuck- shoko was right. he should’ve done something before it was too late, because now it might actually be too late as he steps through the veil.

it’s too quiet for his liking, but the lingering silence only lasts for a few heartbeats before he hears you scream.

you’re going to die.

you don’t want to think that, but you’re definitely not going to make it out of this unscathed as you dodge the curse’s scarily accurate attacks, as if it knows where you’re going to move and land.

the curse screeches out something ugly, and you’re too stunned to react in time as one of its malformed limbs swings down with a speed that you can’t comprehend.

your throat cries for help even as the air out of your lungs, but then there’s the sudden brilliant flash of red that blinds your vision.

satoru?

you can’t see and your body aches everywhere while the sounds of the curse fade out. it’s replaced by the sound of someone speaking frantically. it is satoru as he crouches down at you, hands coming to lift you up gently. his infinity is off. “hey, hey it’s me,” he voices, “it’s me, sweetheart.”

satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.

you emit a sigh of relief, cloudy vision gradually focusing. you try and focus it on satoru, tracing over his features repeatedly, trying to engrave it into your memory.

“shit. those damn higher ups,” gojo grits his teeth into an angered scowl. the higher ups? were they behind this? you don’t know, but you know that you’ve ever seen him this furious before. “i am going to rip those old geezers apart limb from li-”

“satoru, we need to head back.”

he looks dazed, tufts of snowy hair now hanging a bit loosely over his blindfold compared to when it’s normally pushed upright. he even sounds dazed, the great gojo satoru, when he says, “yeah. yeah, okay.”

he’s holding on to you tight and suddenly everything seems to get blurry for less than a second before you blink. you realize he’s teleported you both not to the school, not to shoko’s infirmary, but to his penthouse.

the interior is at least familiar: white walls, a little messy, a couple of decorations, and—

“my place,” he clarifies, as if he had read your thoughts. he sets you down on his couch, uncaring if you’re staining the color of the cushions. but he doesn’t let go, hands still cradling your form so tight that you don’t know if you’re still shaking or that he is.

“are you okay?” you utter out weakly and scan him for any injuries while clutching at his arms, which is ridiculous because he’s untouchable. but you’re not in the right mind right now, and you have a feeling he isn’t either.

“i should be the one asking you that,” he retorts, and you also have the feeling he’s doing the same thing with you with the help of his six eyes.

“i’m alright,” you try to reassure him with a small shake of your head. it only aids you in wincing, but the pain is the last thing on your mind. especially with him here. “it’s fine.”

“it’s not fine,” he argues, his hold tightening even more on you, if that was even possible. is that a slight tremor in his voice? “you almost died.”

“and why do you care?” it’s not a malicious question from you. it’s more of confusion, of genuine. after all you’ve been through with satoru, you’re not sure where he stands. what he feels.

he seems startled by your question, like he can’t believe you could ask such a thing. “of course i care! why-”

you clench your fists in your lap, eyes tracing over his face repeatedly. “i don’t know what you want anymore from me, satoru! you’re not- you’re not telling me the truth.”

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you hoarsely. god, you wish you could see what he’s thinking. what’s going on in that head of his.

“you did hurt me.”

gojo trembles. “i know.”

“you seem to know a lot of things.” your voice sounds tired. your hand goes to rest on his chest, where you can faintly feel his heartbeat underneath. (oh, to be the only one who can touch gojo satoru like this.) “what are you hiding from me?”

“i can’t hide anything from you.” he draws a slow intake of breath. he then whispers,

“but how am i supposed to tell you that we’re soulmates?”

your heart skips a beat.

gojo satoru is your soulmate?

astonished, you now stare at him with wide eyes. “why- why didn’t you tell me??” you ask, voice cracking. to think, all this time, your soulmate had been right there, right beside you, right in front of you.

then it all clicks. his off-standish behavior, his reluctant interactions, his avoidance. his blindfold. he didn’t want you to see his eyes.

he’s known all this time somehow—and oh, oh. his six eyes. your lips part in realization as you stare hard, as if you could see his damned eyes beneath the cloth that hides you from the truth.

“i thought that if you knew that we were soulmates, you’d-” satoru shakes his head. “something always happens to the people i love.” he hesitates, “you still have a chance. you can find someone else.”

“what if i don’t want someone else??” you say out softly in protest, gripping the lapels of his uniform.

gojo shakes his head again. despite this, he doesn’t let you go. like he can’t, like he doesn’t want to. “we’re not bonded yet,” he says your name shakily, “please.”

still gripping the collar of his uniform, you tug him closer to you desperately. it’s so clear, so obvious that he wanted this.

“satoru, have you thought about what i wanted?” you breathe out, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “that maybe, there’s a chance that i want to take the risk? that i want to be bonded to you?”

your eyes flicker down to his lips momentarily. “that i want you too?”

satoru’s breath stutters.

“you haven’t seen my eyes.”

you cup satoru’s face in your hands, swiping your thumb under the space where his eye is hidden with a fierce tenderness that makes him listen.

“satoru, i didn’t need to see your eyes to fall in love with you.”

your confession has him stilling.

(all the times he had stiffened up in your presence, he had been falling for you, bit by bit. you know that now.)

his hand comes to cover yours, the one that’s still resting on his cheek, fingers smoothing over your knuckles. and then his hand continues to go up, up, up, and-

he tugs the blindfold up and over his head, revealing his eyes to you at last.

his eyes are gorgeous, a blue that seems to spill into your vision and take over your senses. a blue that you can get lost in, a blue that reminds you of the summer sky, a blue that tethers your soul to his, and you both can feel it.

the bond between you is so electrifying that you nearly forget how to breathe.

and then satoru is surging forward, closer, even closer, until your breath is his and you forget how to breathe for a whole different reason entirely.

he’s kissing you.

he kisses you like you might disappear right before him, his head angling into yours to capture your lips with a force that makes your world spin.

and you return it tenfold, one hand still cradling his face while the other sneaks to dig its fingers into his undercut, and he’s making a noise into your mouth with fervor.

you’re all too aware of his heat against you, the frantic touches he’s now giving into as he draws you closer. the surface of the sofa dissipates into nothingness and then-

suddenly he’s teleporting you both again—or maybe he’s kissing you dizzy. but you realize you’re now in space that’s not overly familiar with you, but you can tell it’s most likely his bedroom based off of the feel of the lush satin sheets underneath you.

less than an hour ago you were fighting for your life, and now you’re fighting for your life on gojo satoru’s bed.

“satoru, s’toru, wait-” you’re gasping for air, for something as he engulfs you with his presence. he’s everywhere all at once, and it feels as if the bond is intensifying everything he’s doing to you.

“nuh uh. think we’ve both waited long enough for this, baby,” he gasps against your lips, like it’s impossible to be separated from you again, “don’t know how much i wanted this, wanted you. drove me crazy.”

his words makes your head all fuzzy. you don’t even know if it’s the bond anymore, or just the way he makes you feel. maybe even both. your lungs feeling like they’re burning, but even then, you manage to get out,

“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”

“yeah?” when he pulls back, it’s not even a few inches, his nose brushing against yours. his alluring eyes glimmer in the darkness of the room, and you’re almost so mad that you feel like kissing him again because he’s kept them from you for so long.

your hands hook over his neck again. when your fingers run over his undercut again, you can actually feel him shiver, causing you to giggle in delight. “yeah, ‘toru.”

“yeah, pretty,” he sighs out and he’s losing himself in everything that is you once more so willingly. your eyes, your very being, compels him to give you everything, so he does. “y’have me too. all of me.”

his confession rings through your ears before he’s kissing you again, kissing you breathless. it’s a blur on what happens next; feverish touches and passionate symphonies, but one thing’s for sure,

the magnetic glow of his eyes in the dark of that night is something that you’ll never forget.

as your stir amongst the tousled bedsheets, you can feel the warmth of a certain someone creeping over you, like a cozy cat searching for cuddles.

your eyes peer open to meet the blurry sight of the ceiling, along with the sight of messy white hair tickling your chin.

“good morning to you, sweetheart,” a voice says cheekily, followed by cascading kisses down your jawline, prompting you to giggle softly.

you watch sunlight spill over into the bedroom, engulfing the man above you in an angelic glow as he finally pulls back to look down at you.

so maybe you didn’t fall in love at first sight with gojo satoru.

that’s okay.

cause as you stare up into your soulmate’s pretty ceruleans in the morning light, you think you can fall in love with him like this a little more.

BONUS!

“you owe me.”

nanami drags a hand over his face as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “this is the first and last time i make a bet with you,” he grumbles.

shoko merely smirks. “you have such little faith in gojo.”

“bet or not, can we go back to before they were together?” nanami looks like he’s close to investing in a pair of one of gojo’s glasses that can block any normal person’s vision.

satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.

“babyyyyy,” your boyfriend whines, resting his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your torso. you can’t help but giggle, endeared by his clinginess. (he had claimed it was to make up for the way he had acted in the past and for lost time.)

he’s like another part of you now. not that you mind. being his soulmate is everything and more—from the tender touches to the passionate ones, to the talks of everything: to the mundane to the serious. after all, your soul is his, and his soul is yours.

(and then his hands are sneaking off to places they shouldn’t be.)

“‘toru, not here!”

nanami heaves out another sigh as his hand comes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “is it too late to quit being a sorcerer again?”

TAGLIST : @spn-obession , @deepestartisanhumanoidshark , @scarasw1f3 , @kalopsia-flaneur , @90s-belladonna , @peachipeachy , @chrystinaamanda , @kalulakunundrum , @hunnyheavenn , @dekusdante , @dontmindmelove , @cherries-lostgirls , @rv19 , @etherealstarlightqueen

+ a/n: this fic ended up being way no longer than i expected omg.. but thanks to all who asked to be on the taglist !! some didnt work so im sorry about that </3

like this fic? feel free to go ahead and check out my other works here! -> masterlist

[tender-rosiey]

mourn and want — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: angst version of gojo coming back so don’t say I didn’t warn y’a; also him saying my wife makes me giggle like HEHEEHE

satoru’s vision is blurry. he can’t see anyone except kenjaku and sukuna, though his thoughts immediately drift to you.

he can feel your cursed energy somewhere, but it’s so faint. it worries him so he quickly teleports to shoko and his students. his eyes strain as they frantically search for you, “where is y/n?”

most of them stay silent and he immediately jumps to the worst conclusion, but shoko doesn’t let him dwell on it for too long.

she lets out a sigh and it’s followed by a mutter, “follow me.”

she starts walking towards an abandoned building, probably a hospital, and satoru wordlessly walks after her. their footsteps echo throughout the deserted hallways, along with the sounds of water droplets hitting the ground every few seconds.

they finally arrive at a room and its door is noticeably cleaner than the rest. satoru speaks up, for the first time since they started walking, “is she here?”

shoko nods, and her face is solemn, “yeah, but…” she looks away from the moment, “she won’t make it. she will probably die in an hour or something.”

“can’t you do something? anything?”

“satoru, I tried, but whoever attacked her did irreversible damage,” she takes a deep breath, “the healing won’t even work so—I suggest you talk to her and get your moments. she has been asking for you ever she came out of that attack.”

with nothing else to add, shoko left, but not without patting satoru’s shoulder lightly.

he hums quietly then his hand reaches for the doorknob. he takes a deep breath and braces himself for what he will see. satoru is no stranger to death. in fact, he met it personally.

for some reason, though, he feels like yours will be the hardest to face and endure.

the door clicks and he pushes it lightly. his eyes fall on your resting figure, if resting could be used as a word with how in pain you look.

you’re breathing heavily and your hand is clutching your side. he closes the door behind him, a small grin on his face, “hey, pretty? missed me?”

your eyes peak open and you glance towards the door. a small smile appears on your face at the sight of your husband, “satoru…”

he chuckles and gets settled right beside you, “the one and only…how’re you feeling?”

a wheeze escapes your lips as you try to sit up, but satoru quickly—and gently—pulls you into his embrace.

now, you’re both on the ground with you cradled in his arms. you look up, “I feel like shit.”

“figured,” he smiles while caressing your cheek, “you look the part.”

after your small laugh, the both of you fall into silence. your hand is holding onto satoru’s. you take a moment to breathe then you mumble, “I don’t have much time left.”

his arms around you tighten just a bit, “don’t say that.”

“but it’s true.”

he bites on his lips to hold back his tears, “no, no, it’s not—you can’t do this to me,” a shaky breath escapes his lips, “we still have a future together, a daughter to raise.”

you weakly reach put for his face and make him look at you. even with his teary eyes, he manages to compose himself quickly. you sigh in content, “at least, she will have you, her strong papa.”

“why can’t she have her mom as well? why are you giving up so easily?”

“I tried a lot, but it wasn’t and will never be enough—everyone tried!”

the tears you’ve tried to suppress are falling freely, “but it hurts so much, ‘toru! I can’t go on living with this pain!”

satoru is stunned to his core before he swiftly recovers and pulls you closer, doing his best to comfort you, “shh, I am sorry,” he kisses your temple, “I didn’t mean it,” your cheeks, “I am sorry.”

your arms weakly wrap around his shoulder as you sob into his chest, “I don’t want to die! I want to be with you! I wa—want to wake up to you by my side!”you’re cut off by your sob, “I want to raise our daughter together! I want to hear her sweet giggles every day—satoru, I don’t want to go yet!”

“I know,” he buries his face in your hair, “I don’t want you to go either.”

his hand is rubbing your back while you cry and wail. he presses feather-like kisses to your head, before he speaks, “I—…I want to hear you scold me more. I want to see your messy hair every morning. I want to see you team up on me with our daughter. I want to feel your love and give you mine every—every single day.”

you pull away slightly and you lock eyes. he isn’t crying, but he can’t deny the lump in his throat nor the pit in his stomach. you peck his lips gently and rest your forehead on his, “promise me that you will take care of her.”

his thumbs wipe at your tears before he nods, “yeah,” then whispers, “I promise.”

his face is still so close to your own as your body relaxes slightly in his hold. with a small sigh, you murmur against his lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too—I love you so much,” he croaked.

“you better,” you smile before closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

your body goes limp, and satoru immediately hugs you closer, tighter. your face is buried in his chest while he repeatedly and frantically kisses the top of your head, tears of his own dripping to the ground.

his body envelopes your own like he’s fearful of the fact that something will take you away, yet again.

he doesn’t hear the door open at first.

his blood-shot eyes eventually travel to the person who entered, shoko. her voice is shaky as she speaks her name before she sighs, “I need to take her—“

“no.”

his eyes focus on your face once again, “I didn’t get to mourn all who passed—and I will be damned if I don’t mourn for my own wife.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @magenta-cat-drawingss @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[mydarlingclaudia]

fish boy

note : divider is from @/cafekitsune. I also wrote this because I was inspired by this drawing by @sillydicejelly please go look at their art it’s very pretty! this is another summer fic because I’m not ready for summer to be over ugh. I liked writing this a lot but I did feel kinda silly towards the end

wc : 2.8k

tags : @lottiies

desc : he saves you from drowning and you come back each year, falling in love was easy. strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, I think angst (towards the end), not proofread, re2 and re4 Leon, gn!reader, au

It started back in 1997 when you were nineteen. Your family went to the beach for a week in the summer, like you do every year. Your family had a beach house there that they’d had since before you were born, you’d been going there your whole life, you’ve never noticed anything strange. Most days were the same; go into town, window shop and buy as much ice cream you could stomach, go home and swim until you couldn’t feel your arms, roast your skin, play with your cousins, eat, sleep, repeat.

But nothing stays the same forever, sometimes that was a good thing, sometimes that was a bad thing. But this change was just… odd.

One night you were just having a hard time, you and your mom had gotten into a fight earlier in the afternoon and it had just thrown off the rest of your day. You went out that night, maybe around ten after everyone had gone to bed, the wind was harsh, the water was harsher. That didn’t stop you from jumping into the water to try and let the cold water ease your mind.

It didn’t work, though. One big, unexpected wave had toppled you over in the deep water, and before you knew it, you were gulping down salt water, unable to tell up from down.

Miraculously, you didn’t die, even though you should have. You had lost consciousness, though. You didn’t know where you were when you woke up, all you could make out was a small shore, surrounded by cliffs and overgrown weeds, no one else in sight.

Except for a boy.

He was blonde, pretty, pale, too. There was something a bit odd about his face, but you brushed it off as your bleary eyes adjusting. You don’t remember what you said to him, mostly because you didn’t even know what you were saying when you said it, but he had helped you sit up and you rested against his shoulder, one of his hands awkwardly patting your back. It felt comfy, you could ignore the ache in your body and how heavy your lungs felt and just focus on his wet skin pressed against yours.

This must have been what Eric felt like when he was saved by Ariel in The Little Mermaid.

When your eyes finally did adjust, and you got a good look at him, you realized that the oddity of his face was scales that lined his cheekbones back towards his ears, and that his ears weren’t even ears, but webbed ones, like some sort of deep sea creature. You had backed away from him, a confused expression painted on your face while a slightly pained one was etched onto his.

Your eyes hadn’t been able to focus on a single part of him, flicking between his tail, his webbed hands, the gills that lined his throat, his sea-matted hair, the blue tint that surrounded his fingers and gills, everything. You had to be dead, there was no other explanation, but his voice had been so soft when he spoke to you, that you almost wanted to scoot closer again.

“Listen I-I just- you’re- I think I hit my head.” You had sputtered out, one of your hands flying up to feel against your head for any bumps.

“I checked already, you didn’t.” The fish boy had reassured you, pushing himself closer to you.

“I-I didn’t?” Your eyes were glued to him the whole time he had moved himself closer to him, you didn’t back away this time.

“You didn’t, I promise.” You flinched when he reached up to peel your hand away from your head, making him stop for a second, those pretty blue eyes of his robed over your face for another second before he pulled your hand away.

“So-so what? What happened?” He let go of your wrist, placing both his hands down on the sand, his eyes were yet to leave yours.

“You were gonna drown.”

“A-And you saved me?” He nodded, you let out a shaky breath. “So I’m not imagining this?” He shook his head this time. “Jesus, where are we?”

“By the lighthouse,”

“The lighthouse?! That’s like, what, four miles away? Goddamn.” You groaned, that explained why no one was around.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-I guess.” You watched as his eyes trailed down to your bare legs.

“… I’ve never met a human before.” He mumbled.

“I’ve never met a mermaid- merman- uhm, fish boy, I dunno.” He looked you dead in the eye again for a few seconds, then let out a giggle and shook his head, you had smiled at him.

You had to admit that this strange creature was kinda cute, you didn’t doubt that he could probably overpower you, but he had been gentle with you so far. He stopped laughing as you stood up, watching the way the muscles in your legs flexed.

“Shit, my families gonna be wondering where I am.” You had told him, putting your hands behind your head and pacing around in a small circle.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take you back.” You stopped your pacing, looking back down at him and the dumb smile he had on his face.

“You are?”

“I mean… yeah? Why would I save you just to leave you stranded?” He chuckled, you huffed.

“Well, thank you.”

He was a strong swimmer, that shouldn’t have surprised you, he had helped you swim along when you got too tired to do it. You had told him to just leave you at a spot along the beach that was secluded because it’s right where ships would dock and that you’d just walk the rest of the way back home. Before you had left, he had eagerly told you his name, you told him yours. The two of you had lingered for a few seconds longer than necessary, him in the water, you on land.

You felt like thanking Leon again wouldn’t be a good enough way to show your gratitude for saving you, you didn’t really know how to properly thank him yet, but you had suggested meeting in the same place the next day shortly after sunrise. Leon bit, eagerly.

You were surprised when Leon showed up the next day. And the day after that, the next day, too, and every day after. He’d bring you shells and sand dollars, you’d bring him human treasures (coins, candy, ice cream, anything).

Leon would let you look at him, because the more you looked, the more intrigued you became with him, and he liked that feeling. You found more blue scales littered across his arms, he let you touch them. You liked his tail a lot, all the pretty blue and tan scales that shimmered in the sunlight paired with strong fins that were rough to the touch.

You could spend hours talking to Leon, and you did, your family would ask you where you were running off to, you’d just say it was a boy in town, it wasn’t really a lie. He’d ask you about all the places you’ve been to on land, you’d ask him about the ocean.

Leaving was hard. You had promised him you’d come visit again, maybe even on your own a few times a year. But you had promised Leon that you would be back the same time next year. You’d never forget how he frowned and nodded his head, asking you for another keepsake. You gave him a bracelet you bought in town.

—

You had the whole year to look forward to seeing Leon again. When you arrived on the beach in 1998, you were almost certain he wouldn’t show. As far as you knew, mermaids didn’t have calendars, how would he know when a year passed? On the drive up you contemplated how long a year was to them, you almost gave yourself a nosebleed thinking about it. You would just have to ask Leon.

But Leon had shown, and he showed up with a grin on his face and the best shells he had gathered over the past year.

“What do you call those?” Leon had asked you, pointing a blue finger at the overgrown wildflowers sprouting out of the hill above you and him. You looked over your shoulder, sparing a glance to the purples and yellows of the flowers that gently swayed in the wind.

“Those? Those are flowers.” You said to him, taking another cookie from the ones you had baked and brought to him, still looking at the wildflowers. You quickly learned that if given the chance, Leon would eat just about anything, especially sweets.

“They’re pretty.”

“There are prettier ones.”

“There are?” You finally look back to him, he’s only a handful of feet away from you, the cookies and other treats you brought rested on top of a stool between the two of you. Leon was laying on his stomach, forearms keeping him propped up as his eyes locked onto you, gentle waves rolling over his tail and reaching your feet, the two of you hidden away at the part of the docks no one ventured to.

“Sure, sunflowers, snapdragons, lilacs, chrysanthemums, tulips… I could go on forever.”

“… Would you bring me some?”

“Of course.”

And you did, you brought Leon as many flowers as you could carry, he was worth a pretty penny for all of these flowers. You were no expert on plants, but the night before you brought him the flowers, you took out a book at the library on them, just to know each one’s meaning so that if he asked, you’d be prepared.

Leon asked about anything he could think of, he always did. You were the same, in a way. You’d never been all that curious about the ocean until Leon came into your life.

You watched Leon with a softness in your eyes you don’t think you’ve ever even looked at a boy with when he’d twirl the flower stem between his fingers and study each individual petal, you wanted him to look at you like that.

“I wish I could take these back with me.” Leon had mumbled to you, eyes still glued to a tulip.

“Maybe you can, I don’t know how well they’ll hold up in the water, though.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” His eyes shifted from the flower in his hand up to your face, his smile dropping a tiny bit. “These are beautiful, I don’t want to just remember them.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to tell him that you couldn’t keep everything you wanted, but you knew that you were keeping Leon as close as you could and that telling him that would be hypocritical.

“I’ll buy you as many flowers as you want.” You told him before you could even finish the thought, but you meant each word. Seeing his face light back up made your heart skip a few beats in your chest.

“You will?”

“If it’ll make you happy.”

“Yeah, it would.” Leon had smiled at you, you got out of your beach chair and scooted next to him in the sand, reaching a hand out to run over his wet back before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Leon had gone stiff for a few seconds, your grip loosened on him, he took that opportunity to move and wrap his arms around your waist. He didn’t let you go for a long time.

—

Years came and went, your visits with Leon stayed the same. You spent most of your summer at the beach now, talking with Leon, swimming with him, eating with him, any excuse you could find to be with him, you were there.

August of 2004 is nearing its end, it’s late right now, you don’t know whether it’s before or after midnight. You’re soaked through to the bone, salt water clings to your cold skin as you lay on a beach towel. Leon is next to you, he’s never not near you when you’re at the beach.

Leon gets more and more handsome each time you see him. You’re not sure what’s going on under the surface of the water, but something has hardened him. His eyes are a bit colder, he’s gotten a bit stronger, he’s more serious about things.

You don’t think you ever really knew Leon, you liked to think you did, but he’d never be able to come into your world and you’d never be able to go into his without an oxygen tank strapped to your back. You had to settle for this.

Leon’s never mean to you, though. He still asks questions, he still brings you shells, he still loves flowers. He’s gotten more touchy, he likes your legs, you continue to like his tail.

Leon shifts beside you, rolling onto his side to face you, you do the same.

“When are you leaving?” He asks.

“I’m not sure yet.” You couldn’t stay at the beach forever, you tried to work jobs that were more lenient, but you still need to eat and have a roof to sleep under. Your family notices how you keep returning to the beach for longer periods each year, they think you’ve fallen in love. You have.

“Just be sure to say goodbye.” Leon says this each time you have to leave, you always say goodbye, you’d never just leave him without telling him you wouldn’t be back for a while. You don’t say anything as Leon sits up, reaching for a tulip from the bouquet of flowers you brought, you grab one as well.

It’s silent between the two of you, you’re picking off the petals of your flower, reciting “he loves me, he loves me not” in your head repeatedly, you haven’t done this since middle school.

“If I had legs…” Leon starts, you stop what you’re doing, pausing on a he loves me petal. “Would you take me with you?”

“Take you where?”

“Just with you. I just… I just wanna be around you for more than a few weeks.” Leon’s words both warm your heart and make it clench at the same time, you turn your attention back to your flower, picking off more petals.

“Of course I would. I’d take you anywhere you wanted.” Your eyes flick to his face, catching his smile.

“I miss you, y’know.” You stop again, he loves me not.

“I’m right here.”

“I mean when you’re gone.” Leon huffs beside you, letting his hands fall down to his lap, still holding the tulip. “I don’t like when you leave. Every single day for the past six years I’ve swam up to shore waiting for you, even when I knew you weren’t going to be there. You’re the first human I’ve ever met, I’m pretty sure you’re the kindest one out there, too. You can go anywhere you want in the world and I’d never know it. I just want to see you.”

“And I want you to come with me,” You admit with a shaky breath. “Believe me, I think about you everyday, I try and find things that I can bring to you, I try to be here more than I probably should be. If- If we were able to be around each other every waking moment, I’d spend my life with you.”

“… I don’t want to be in the sea anymore.”

“Leon, you have no idea how easy I wish it was for us.” You can feel tears pricking at your eyes, you look away from Leon, the only petal left on your tulip is he loves me.

“Would you ever move here? To the beach?”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Then do it.” Leon meant it as a demand, but he said it so softly it sounded like he was begging. You toss your tulip to the side and look back at him, scooting closer, letting sand stick to your skin as you leave your towel.

Leon is still blonde, he’s still pretty, he’s still pale. His skin is still wet to the touch and you’ve come to love the scales plastered onto his skin, he’s not awkward when he holds you anymore, and there’s a different ache in your lungs when you’re around him that certainly isn’t you being waterlogged.

You bring a hand up to cup his face, his webbed hand closes around your wrist, leaning into your touch.

“I love you,” He murmurs against your palm, pressing a kiss to it.

“I love you, too.” You whisper to him. Leon doesn’t pull away from you, he never does until he absolutely has to. His hand slides up to latch onto yours, he holds it against his chest and leans in until his forehead is resting against yours.

“Please, say it again.”

“I love you.” You’re the one who leans in for the kiss. The summer you first met, you had found yourself laughing at the thought of kissing him because you thought he’d taste like fish. Instead, he tastes like salt water you’ve swallowed more than enough times, you’d drown in it knowing it tastes like him.

[kinardsevan]

30 days of fluff challenge: day 11

"crying during a movie"

Tommy doesn’t expect it. 

Evan picks the movie that night. It’s a newer one, from the past decade, and Tommy doesn’t really stay up on anything that isn’t a romantic comedy or an action flick, but Evan had found it in the midst of a twenty-minute search for something to watch while they have dinner, and he turns it on without either of them having much information on the movie. 

They’re not far into the film when Tommy questions whether it was the right choice. It’s heavy—a filim about a girl who loses her entire family in an accident, and then has to decide whether she wants to survive alone, or die to be with them—and before long, he can see the way it’s affecting Evan on a much deeper level than they generally go for. Still, as they watch, Evan seems enamored by the film.

Somehow, Tommy gets sucked into it too, even though he’s concerned about the way his boyfriend is being affected by it. Still, it isn’t until the credits roll, and he glances over to see Evan’s reaction to the end of the film, that he finds him nearly beside himself. 

“Babe?” 

Evan inhales a shaky breath as more tears run down his face. He shakes his head and holds up a hand, intimating that he needs a moment. Tommy watches him wordlessly for a time, gives him the requested time to reign it in. 

Except he doesn’t. Maybe he intended to, but Tommy sees him crumple and the quiet sobs that wrack out of his chest, and at that point, Tommy can’t just watch. 

“Baby,” he interjects, reaching up for Evan’s hand. He pulls it to his mouth and kisses the blonde’s fingers before shifting even closer to him on the couch and pulling him in. “What’s happening right now?” 

Evan forces in several deep breaths, which seem to help, because he’s calmer afterwards. Tommy pulls him in and presses his lips to his birthmark as he runs his fingers up and down Evan’s bicep. 

“I’ve had that moment,” Evan finally admits after five long minutes of silence. 

Tommy settles back, not letting go of him, but enough inches back into his own seat that he can see Evan. 

“What moment,” he asks. 

“After I was struck by lightning,” he explains. “When I was in the coma, I had this dream. A-and it was this life where Daniel was still alive, and Maddie never left Doug, and my parents actually cared.” He pauses, takes another breath, his eyes searching the floor. “Back then, I thought I decided to live because of everyone else. Because in the dream, Bobby didn’t live, and Eddie didn’t have custody of Christopher, and my sister wasn’t safe, but my parents cared and for a minute, all of that was really tempting.” 

Tommy hums in understanding. They’ve had enough discussions about both of their parents at this point for him to understand that what Evan’s referring to isn’t as simple as just making a decision, even if it felt that way at the time. 

“B-but there was this moment. I had this out-of-body experience, and I don’t know how I know it, but when they took me off the ventilator, they were concerned about me being able to breathe on my own. But in my head, I was fighting with…something akin to the devil on my shoulder?” He looks up at Tommy then, his brow furrowed at the recollection. “Like I had to decide to live. And obviously I did. But I could’ve chose not to.” 

Tommy nods as he listens to him. He leans forward and kisses the side of Evan’s head again. 

“But you did live,” Tommy reminds him. 

Evan nods, and there are more tears running down his face again, which Tommy doesn’t love. 

“That’s more upsetting?” He asks warily.

Evan shakes his head and then tilts his head back onto Tommy’s arm, looking up at him. 

“You didn’t exist in that dream,” he rasps. “Because I didn’t know you. And if I hadn’t chosen to live then…” His voice trails off, shaking, but it makes sense to Tommy then. He doesn’t need the end of the sentence to understand why Evan’s upset. 

Tommy takes a deep breath and then drops his head down, curling his fingers under Evan’s chin to tilt him in. This kiss is soft, but also quick and urgent. There’s a line that sets into his forehead as he presses his forehead against Evan’s, dignified by the pain of the mere suggestion of a version of a life that Evan Buckley doesn’t exist in. 

“But you did,” he reminds him again. “I’m so glad you did.” 

“Mmm,” Evan hums, lifting a hand and curling a loose fist around the collar of Tommy’s shirt. He looks back up at him, staring into the depths of Tommy’s ocean blue eyes, sapphire pools of adoration staring back at him. 

“I used to have this checklist,” he adds. “When I would wake up in the morning, to make sure I'm alive, and not still stuck in the dream. Make sure night time came, make sure Bobby was alive, make sure Doug is still dead…” 

Tommy nods again. 

“But you said used to,” he states softly. “So you don’t anymore?” 

Evan inhales a deep breath, the tinest of smiles pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

“I do actually,” he replies, flatting his hand out against Tommy’s chest. “It’s only one thing now.” 

Tommy’s brow creases, curious. 

“Can I ask what that is,” he murmurs, adjusting his head on his own shoulder so that there’s only half an inch of space between his nose and Evan’s. 

Evan nods. His eyes trail down briefly, and then back up to Tommy’s. 

“Find this chest,” he rasps. “And make sure the heart inside of it still beating.” 

[saphronethaleph]

Carida One

“Is… something wrong, Lord Vader?” Commandant Vex asked, trying very hard not to swallow.

Or sweat too loudly.

Or give off any other indication of guilt, laxity, or something that would lead Darth Vader to decide to terminate his employment – and him – with a single gesture.

Vader didn’t respond, all his attention on a screen, and Vex took a deep and steadying breath before checking what was on the screen.

It… was nothing, really. The input report of one of the recent cadets. Joined up two days ago as part of a group from the same Outer Rim world, high aptitude marks in proprioception and the highest reflex scores Vex had ever seen… but it didn’t look like anything was strange about it. Except that Vader was reading every single line of data, examining every photo, like he’d found some kind of hidden source of truth that had been concealed from the entire galaxy until now.

“This cadet,” Vader said, abruptly deigning to take notice of Vex again. “Cadet 421. What is your impression of him?”

“Well – he’s…” Vex began. “That is, Lord Vader… he’s talented? A little quick on some of the answers, I suppose, at least that’s the impression my interviewer had – the man thought that perhaps Cadet 421 was lying about specific details of his past.”

“Which details?” Vader asked.

“Principally, that he had permission to leave his home,” Vex said. “It’s not a major issue. We deal with worse all the time, and with incoming cadets from the Outer Rim-”

“Enough,” Vader interrupted, only it didn’t qualify as interruption when it was Vader. It was simply a declaration that your sentence had reached a conclusion, and he was not going to take any discussion on that point. “You took a DNA sample, I take it?”

“Yes, Lord Vader,” Vex confirmed, nodding nervously.

“I will be leaving with it,” he said. “For clarity, that means I will be leaving with the DNA sample. I will also be leaving with all records of the DNA sample; the academy will not be permitted to retain the sample.”

The blank black eyes of his visor stared at Commandant Vex.

“Cadet 421 is under my personal protection,” Vader said, evenly. “If he dies, so do you. If he is severely injured or otherwise harmed in any way for which you or anyone in the Academy can be blamed in any fashion, you die. So will anyone responsible. I recommend putting a note in his file that you will take care of all disciplinary interactions with Cadet 421. You will not appreciate the consequences if you fail in any way. Have I made myself clear?”

In a great many ways, he had not.

But in one specific way…

“Yes, Lord Vader,” Commandant Vex said, swallowing again.

“Good,” Vader said, turning to sweep out of the room.

Then he paused.

“Which cadets did he arrive with?”

“420 and 419,” Vex answered.

“Darklighter…” Vader said, out loud. “Interesting.”

Then, with a swish of his cape, he was gone.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Luke said, with a sigh. “You’d think if the Empire was so good they could just rely on us realizing it, rather than telling us three times a day.”

Biggs winced.

“Shavit, Luke,” he said, much more quietly than his friend. “You know the academy proctors will come down on us like a ton of duracrete if any of us talk like that.”

“They will?” Luke asked. “Really?”

“Yeah, you saw what happened to Yancit, right?” Biggs said. “He got put on hard physical training for three days just for moderately defeatist statements.”

He shook his head. “You’ve got some kind of charmed life, man. I’m just glad to stay close enough that some of it rubs off on me.”

Luke chuckled, a bit nervously.

“If you say so,” he said. “What do you think it is, anyway?”

“Could be your sim scores,” Biggs guessed. “You’re doing even better than me behind the stick, and we’re both way ahead of everyone else… it’d be a weird thing to give you some kind of pass on, though. Like they’d want future ace pilots to be down on the Empire?”

Luke shook his head.

“I mean that… I mean that the Empire should just be obviously better,” he said. “And I mean obviously – it shouldn’t even be a question about whether it’s the best option. You shouldn’t have to tell people. It should just be obvious. Right?”

Biggs looked distinctly worried.

“That would be dangerous enough to say on Tatooine, Luke,” he pointed out. “That’s getting towards the kind of thing that would earn a visit from some kind of enforcer. They’d say the Empire is already that, and if you’re complaining about it, that’s the problem.”

Several months later, Commandant Vex felt like biting through his tongue.

Cadet 421 – cadet Skywalker – and his associated group of friends like Darklighter and Klivian were causing a lot of trouble. It was trouble that was… not the kind of trouble he’d feel comfortable telling a HoloNews channel was trouble, because it was all to do with the cadets earnestly saying that the Empire should be doing things the Empire was supposed to be doing already.

Under normal circumstances, he’d have gone ahead and placed the troublemakers into solitary confinement already – if not disappeared them, remanding them into the custody of Imperial Intelligence or the Internal Security Bureau to never again see the light of day.

The problem was, if that happened, Vex would never see the light of day.

He practically jumped out of his suit as the door to his office swished open.

“Commandant,” Vader said, without preamble. “I am taking several of your cadets for my own personal squadron. Effective immediately.”

“Oh, no,” Vex said, then remembered who he’d said that to. “I mean – just as you say, Lord Vader? Who?”

“Cadet Skywalker,” Vader said. “And anyone who he is closely associated with. Any friends of his. I will look over their scores myself before their transfer is finalized.”

Vex felt like sighing in relief.

He would have been considerably less happy about the situation if he knew that Vader’s reason for the transfer was to get the various cadets out of the academy before Imperial Intelligence or the ISB made the same connection he had.

But he didn’t know that, and what he didn’t know wasn’t going to get him sent to a black site for at least another three days.

[herofics]

Hi do you do requests for continuations of fanfics you did 5 years ago😭.

For contacts it is the one about Aizawa's adopted kid gets killed in a villain attack, I don't know if you're long over that but I was thinking if you did continue it could it be like other student's reactions🙏. (love your works btw❤️)

A/N: Oh I will gladly write some more for that. I just picked some characters and mashed them all together into HCs. The post mentioned is this one (I think at least). Thank you for liking my stuff :D

•When Aizawa carried your lifeless body out of what was left of the dorms, everyone was already in shock from what had happened, and your death certainly didn’t make things any easier

•The police and paramedics had been alerted and teachers were pouring to the scene to help and make sure everyone was alright

•Almost everyone else had gotten out with only minor injuries, except for you

•The whole class was quiet, some because of the shock, some because they were showing respect

•You were put into an ambulance and taken away, even though no one could help you anymore, Aizawa wanted to go with you, but he also had a responsibility to his class, so he decided to go to the hospital later

•”Is everyone okay?” he asked as the rest of class-A stood there quietly

•Everyone muttered something akin to a “yes” but no one knew what else to say

•”They pushed me out of the way” Midoriya said

•As if he doesn’t carry the world on his shoulders already, the blame he placed on himself for what happened to you was certainly enough to drive anyone past the breaking point

•Aizawa assured him that it wasn’t his fault, but how could it not be? If he just had better control of his quirk, if he was as fast as All Might, you wouldn’t be dead

•There was a lot of buzz outside the school as to how it could have happened, how does a student get killed in the UA dorms?

•The whole class and Aizawa were so tired of hearing all the theories and the media blaming everyone but the actual culprits

•The whole class brought something for your desk in the class, candles, incense, flowers, food, things like that

•It became a sort of shrine to you

•The whole class was understandably distraught about what had happened, but your closest friends were the most messed up about it

•Bakugou didn’t yell at anyone for at least two weeks, he just muttered to himself whenever someone annoyed him

•He knew heroes die on the job all the time, but you weren’t a hero, you were a student

•It drove him to train harder, study harder, so next time something like this happened, maybe he wouldn’t feel so fucking useless

•Midoriya got the worst of it, he blamed himself, no matter how much everyone else told him it wasn’t his fault, he just wouldn’t listen

•He too started training harder, developing his quirk and his control over it, he didn’t want this to happen again

•In a way you motivated the whole class to be better, get stronger, it just sucked you had to die for that

•Yaoyorozu started practicing more extensive first aid after that, she took some courses outside of what the school offered, and started taking lessons from Recovery Girl too

•Some of the class followed her example, such as Uraraka, Tokoyami, Asui and Todoroki

•Yaoyorozu also made sure to learn how to make certain medicines, hemostatic gauze and things like that with her quirk, that could help in a situation like what happened to you

•His students efforts brought some light into the dark time Aizawa was going through, and the little shrine on your old desk was a nice gesture

•Even though it was sometimes a painful reminder, it was also a reminder of how much you were loved by your classmates and friends

[ladykailitha]

Batshit Soulmates: in Medias Res

As promised, the soulmate AU you've all been waiting for. I don't have a set schedule for this. I'll post chapters as they come. That said, I do have a backlog of chapters to put out on the regular.

Summary: Steve's never met his soulmate. Even though everyone else in his life has. Most of them are even bonded. Literal teenagers got their soulmates before Steve. He tries not to take it personally. He tries really hard not to take it personally when he finds out it's Eddie Munson when he has a bottle at his throat. He tries even harder not to take personally when everything that could go wrong, does.

*throws chapter at you and runs*

***

“I just think we should wait,” Steve huffed for what felt like the millionth time. “Give our allies more time to get to Hawkins.”

“But the longer we wait,” Nancy growled back, “the likelihood of Vecna finding someone we don’t know to haunt and kill goes up.”

“Except we know who his next victim is!” Steve yelled back. “You! And excuse me for thinking that using you as bait would be better than a fifteen year old girl!”

“Steve!” Max hissed. “What the hell?!”

Steve looked down at his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked up at Nancy and dared her to tell him he was wrong.

But Nancy was stubborn. “The batteries on her Walkman are going to die sooner, rather than later. I know this whole thing sucks, but the longer we put it off the sooner Vecna could wipe out the whole town.”

Steve looked around the room for support and got none. He sighed. No one was on his side in this. But he could feel it. If they waited just five more minutes. But it was five minutes he wasn’t going to get.

He looked down at his feet again as Nancy started listing off who would go where. His head shot up when Dustin and Eddie were told to be the distraction.

“What?” he said. “No. Eddie is my soulmate.”

Robin put her hand his shoulder. “I know, but we can’t leave Dustin alone and you need to come with Nancy and me to kill Vecna.”

Steve’s face shuttered. So the choice was to go with the girls and protect them or go with Eddie and Dustin and protect them, leaving the girls to battle Vecna by themselves?

No.

No, no, no, no.

He had to protect everyone. Why couldn’t he protect everyone?

It was killing him.

“Just go!” Eddie said. “You know you’re going to be needed when it comes to killing this bastard. They’re going to need your strength.”

Steve let out a whine that had been caught in his throat. “You’re telling me to leave you...” He didn’t understand.

Eddie pressed his fingers into his eye. “It’s not because–it’s not what you think. Honest. This is just proper strategy and you know it. Dustin and I aren’t going to be doing anything but drawing the attention of the demobats away from you and the girls.”

Steve let out another noise of distress. He knew Eddie was right. He did. It just hurt that in the five days since meeting his soulmate, they had spent a total of less than a day together. And most of that was spent getting ready for this.

“All right,” he finally agreed.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief and that made Steve’s heart hurt. They weren’t counting on him to make the right decision. They weren’t counting on him to do the smart thing. Even Eddie had sighed in relief.

Steve shut down. Maybe his mother had been right. Maybe soulmates weren’t everything they cracked up to be. Maybe it was good he was find this out now, before he got too attached.

He gave his little speech and made them promise not to be heroes.

Eddie looked down at the ground and then back up at Steve’s retreating back. He closed his eyes and opened them slowly.

“Hey, Steve?” he called out.

Steve turned around, trying to keep the hope out of his eyes.

“Make him pay.”

Steve nodded and turned back around, his heart shattering in his chest. He was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Hoping for a declaration of love. Hoping that Eddie felt something for him. But despite Eddie’s reassurances that he no longer thought that Steve was douchebag, he still couldn’t get over the fact that he had been fated to be his soulmate.

He felt the ice creep up his chest to nestle around his heart. All his life he hoped that his soulmate would be the one that’d love him unconditionally when no one else could. But he guessed that was only for children’s fairy tales.

Steve had barely taken two steps when he heard the sound of running feet and then he was being spun around. He was suddenly face to face with Eddie and he couldn’t breathe. Eddie gently took his face in his hands and kissed him on the lips.

Steve had melted. That is the only explanation for how gooey his insides had become. Eddie pulled back.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he panted. “Be safe. Come back to me, okay, Stevie?”

Steve rested his head against Eddie’s. “You, too. I can’t lose you now. Please.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie whispered. “Okay.”

Steve watched as his soulmate ran back to Dustin, his heart just as heavy, but now whole.

Robin tapped his shoulder. “Come on, Steve. Vecna needs to die so you can be together without having to always look over your shoulder.”

He closed his eyes and nodded. Nancy took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He let her lead him away from the best boy he had ever known to kill the person who was responsible for all the turmoil in their lives.

*

Shit.

Eddie looked up at the rope ladder in dismay. All around him he could hear the sounds of the demobats clawing their way through the vents. If he climbed the rope, they would break through the gate and Dustin would be a sitting duck.

They would both die.

“Get Steve on the walkie-talkie!” Eddie yelled. “Tell him the bats are about to break through this gate and I’m leading them away from you.”

“Eddie!” Dustin yelled. “Don’t!”

Eddie took a deep breath and cut the rope ladder.

“No!” Dustin yelled.

“Get Steve!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder as he strapped his makeshift spear and shield to back. He zipped up his jacket, knowing full well that armor was no good if it didn’t cover the bits that needed protecting. He took the bandanna off his hair and tied around his face.

God he hated this place.

He grabbed one of the bikes and hopped on. He just needed to give Steve, Nancy and Robin enough time to kill Vecna so that Dustin was safe.

That’s all he needed. Just two minutes.

Behind him he could hear the screech of the bats turn from the trailer to chase him. After all even a moving target out in the open is better than a sitting target in a tin can.

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he could outrun them. He wasn’t exactly in peak physical condition but he had to try.

It took him a bit to realize that subconsciously he hadn’t been running from Dustin, but to Steve. And just how fucked up was that. Which of course was when the front tire hit a small hole in the ground and he went tumbling, rolling in the dirt. His shield and spear prevented him from getting up and he thought for sure that this was the end.

But suddenly he was being righted and yanked to his feet.

“Eddie!” Steve called over the screeching of the bats.

“Steve!” Eddie called back. “Are the girls okay?”

Steve nodded. “I left Robin with the Malatov cocktails and Nancy with her shot gun. They’re kicking his ass.”

Eddie pursed his lips and nodded back. “Dustin is safe. Or as safe as I can make that kid.”

Steve closed his eyes. “He said you told him the bats were breaking in though the vents.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t want them to get to him or out into Hawkins, lynch mob aside, so I lead them away.”

Steve gave him a hug. “Well then, let’s keep their attention on us, shall we?”

“Bring it on!” Eddie yelled, pulling off his shield and spear.

Steve stood at his back, ax in one hand, nail bat in the other. He twirled them both, warming up his wrists as he stared up the sky that was now thick with bats.

And even though they had only fought together once before, they moved as one, anticipating each other’s movements and covering each other’s backs.

Steve hit a bat so hard its guts rained down upon them, spraying them with black goo. Eddie in turn protected them with his shield putting it in front of him as the bats slammed into it full force.

He could feel his feet sliding back, but Steve was there and he leaned backward, putting all his weight against Eddie to brace him up.

Eddie had been on the verge of giving up, tears streaming down his face as he fought against impossible odds. But Steve was there. And he remembered that every impossible thing he had ever thought in his life had be come possible in this one man. And he was damned if he wasn’t going to survive this too.

“I love you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie closed his eyes and whispered back. “I love you, too, Stevie.”

The bats soon realized that they couldn’t get through Eddie and turned, swirling in the sky and Eddie could feel it before it happened. They were going to attack Steve.

He pushed Steve to the ground and lifted his shield above their heads. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” Steve replied.

And then all the bats dived at once.

***

Yeah...don't expect a quick resolution to that. Just know, I'm a sucker for happy endings. ;)

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

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[psiroller]

OkOk, so I know you’re currently in the middle of writing who knows how many more dunmeshi fics, but have you considered Tall-man x Tall-man Chillchuck and Laios yet? Maybe for a quick little drabble or something? I feel like that could go somewhere maybe.. If not this is just me rambling 😔, so feel free to ramble back and have a good day <3

oh anon. you found me juuust as i was raring up to procrastinate. you are in luck. CHILAIOS/656 WORDS/TALLCHUCKXLAIOS/CONSIDER THIS BREAK THE LOCK CANON

“Okay,” Chilchuck said, his voice deeper and rougher than Laios was used to. “What’re you staring at?”

Laios blinked. “You, obviously.”

“But aren’t you used to this shit yet? Do I look different now that you’ve changed back?”

Laios cocked his head. The changeling effect had worn off for Laios a few hours ago, but Chilchuck was still a tallman. Maybe because he was lower to the ground, he got a larger payload? Laios had made extra sure they’d scrubbed everything off him, so it was only a matter of time. Laios didn’t like to think about the possibility Chilchuck never changing back, but with his taller stature returned he could properly appreciate the differences. Chilchuck loomed over Laios as a dwarf and was still taller than him now. His cheekbones were higher, his face stretched along a taller jaw, stubble emerging so soon after a morning shave. Yet, besides the slightly sunken and tired look, Chilchuck’s eyes were still the same; pitch dark in low light, amber-brown in front of the fire, intense when met.

“You do,” Laios said, “but you don’t. I keep noticing little things.”

A blush rose on Chilchuck’s gaunt face, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Well, don’t get too invested. It’s gonna wear off soon.” He rubbed the pressure point on his temple. “Hopefully.”

“It will,” Laios assured him, and scooted closer. “But it’s fascinating… I wonder how the changeling spores decide what form to change someone into?”

“I guess whatever’s funniest,” Chilchuck said with a wry grin. “You saw Izutsumi.”

“I don’t think you’re funny looking, though,” Laios frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. Chilchuck pshawed at him and put a hand on his face when he got close. Laios pushed against it and wriggled, an over-affectionate dog held at bay.

“It’s supposed to make me look freakish to everyone else, so I die alone, right?” Chilchuck said. “Half-foot to tall-man makes sense. I’m twice the size of the biggest guy in my family. Imagine if I came home to my kids like this when they were young.”

He frowned at that, the dark humor sucked out of it by frank darkness. “And an elf to a half-foot,” he went on, trying to wipe the annoying concern off Laios’ face, “That’s gotta be a nightmare. We’re the lowest of the low to them, right?”

“Chilchuck.”

Laios was back in Chilchuck’s space, having evaded his hand, or Chilchuck had let him. It didn’t matter. Chilchuck’s hand found Laios’ shoulder but he didn’t shove. Chilchuck hated being observed so closely, but he made endless exceptions for Laios.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. Chilchuck honked out a laugh. “I’m serious!” Laios barked, and Chilchuck petered out. “I mean it, Chil.”

Chilchuck rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s a shame, since you’re never gonna see this face again.”

Laios held his face and turned Chilchuck to face him, to kiss him. Their faces fit together unevenly even though they were the same size now. Laios scratched his fingers through Chilchuck’s stubble and nuzzled their noses together, did that creepy thing where he opened his eyes to watch Chilchuck as they kissed that always drove him crazy. Laios reached up to touch Chilchuck’s ear, finding a nick in his ear that Marcille could never fully heal all the way, and Chilchuck grumbled as he felt—something like it, it was doing something for him, but maddeningly dull compared to his memory.

“That’s just it, Chil,” Laios breathed. “Seeing you like this, as cool as it is…” he grinned sadly. “I miss you as you are.”

When Laios brought up his other hand to cup Chil’s head, there was a rush of something electric. As he drifted back into reality, he was engulfed in Laios’ warm shadow, and they couldn’t easily interlock their hands. Chilchuck gripped the broad gap between Laios’ middle and ring fingers, and thanked the stupid mushrooms for letting them fit together properly again.

[dreamwritersworld]

All too well. (Miles morales x reader)

Weather Miles knew it or not he was stabbing her right in the heart every time he made their relationship seem under wraps.

In front of everyone he refused to call their relationship what it was. Love. Not a childish relationship, at least not to Y/n.

Rio could see something was going on between the two. There wasn’t a day where she hadn’t dreamt of seeing Y/n in a wedding dress besides Miles, she was all too prefect. Y/n was practically the daughter she never had.

So Miles kept her close to his heart and he always got Y/n to return back into his arms but every time she did she felt shame, and he would just hold her lifeless frame. Their relationship was crowded, Gwen was stuck in the picture and the teenage boy was stuck between the two. He couldn’t imagine a life without either of them. Gwen gave him thrill and Y/n gave him comfort.

Both girls were spider-women except…Gwen wasn’t in their universe. She was gone and it had been months. Y/n remembered it all too well.

When arguments happened salty tears would fall from the two of them once they wrapped arms around each other, Miles breathed in her sweet candy scent wishing for it to smell like another. While y/n let tears fall knowing Miles imagined someone else with him. She didn’t trust herself, her body would always lead her back to the wrong things, him.

However…the patience of Y/n didn’t last longer. The night before everything went downhill they got into an argument…

It all started when we had came home from keeping watch on the city. Tonight wasn’t the best night, Miles was so distant and he refused to speak to me.

He spoke about me indirectly, I heard it.

“you’re just so irritable….”

I couldn’t ignore it, not this time. His frustration lighted a bottling flame waiting to ignite..

“I won’t ever understand you! You won’t even speak to me directly?! What am I supposed to do with that?!”

He turned around quickly, spoke irrational. Though I knew in some way or another he meant every word he said.

“If you were Gwen maybe I would’ve been just fine?!”

Hearing him say that made me want to die. Confirming something I denied for the longest. There was shuffling in my feet stepping backwards, my heart beginning to feel intense agony and the tears slipping from my eyes.

Miles couldn’t exactly see my face with my mask, but he knew what he had said cut deep.

“…we’re done.”

His hand reached out for me but all I could do was push him away. I fled immediately after, knocking into almost every building. My vision was disoriented since my eyes were flooding with tears.

That night I went to bed listening to my parents arguing in the living room, doing the same thing Miles and I had just done. Maybe it was for the better…maybe if I stayed I would’ve repeated the never ending cycle….

‘All’s wells, that ends well’ but Y/n was in a new hell every time he double crossed her mind. It goes without saying that the next day Y/n dreaded having to go to Jeff’s promotion party, but she would anyways because they were there for her big moments too…

My eyes felt swollen from the rough night and I couldn’t stop thinking about it all. Picking between the clothes and getting myself out of bed was difficult, this breakup felt final.

I took everything step by step and I took a deep breath walking into the party.

“Y/n! Hija you made it, I was getting worried!”

Rio rushed in giving me her nurturing love and all that hit was the fact that this will never happen as much. I wouldn’t allow myself to come over any more after this, not when I know I’d go back to him.

“Hi Mrs.Morales! Hi Mr.Morales-“

“Rio let Y/n breathe!…Cmon give me a hug kid!”

I did return that hug but all I could do was take the emotions in..

“Congratulations sir!”

once we were done with our greetings they turned my body quickly to the skylines of the city

“Isn’t it beautiful!…haha yea.”

The way Jeff had spoke sounded quick and awkward, he rushed my body to turn so fast.

“oh yea it is..”

Rio couldn’t just stand there and act like she didn’t see Y/n hurt regardless if she didn’t see the scene Jeff hid her from, she wanted to protect her but she wouldn’t lie to Y/n either.

“Oh princesa, lo siento.”

Confusión covered my face but inside hearing just that but not knowing why, I was so close to breaking down.

“What do you mean?”

Jeff looked to Rio with pleading eyes begging her to stop and Rio had a sense of genuine and a need to not hide something.

“Miles is with that girl Gwenda, I can’t lie to you Y/n. You’re just too sweet for me to lie. Just know that no matter how or why your relationship ended, no es por ti.”

My swollen eyes wanted to cry once more, I turned my body to the crime scene. He did talk to her the entire time in the beginning of our relationship…maybe did even worse. She came back now, and Miles was the one who ran to her the second we called it quits.

I knew based off the smile on his face, he’d never feel sorry for the way I hurt. He was showing her off just by simply bringing her and pulling her close…

The entire time Y/n was staring Jeff couldn’t believe his eyes, everything Rio had rambled about them being together and Y/n being in love, Miles loving her back but out of nowhere it only ever became halfway. It hurt seeing the pain that struck her eyes.

Jeff gave Y/n the biggest hug..

“If you want Y/n..you can pick out your food, eat and take a good nap on our couch before you head home.”

A small tear feel from Y/n’s eyes, all she could do was nod and walk away…

I’ve never doubted myself so much, I hate that I gave Miles power over that kind of stuff. At some point in our relationship it was always one step forward and three steps back.

Once I made it back down to their apartment I couldn’t nap, my body wouldn’t allow it. Something was telling me to go. So I did.

I closed the window and leaped onto building from building , trusting my body to lead me in the right direction. When I arrived there was a damaged building and a portal..no one was there and it hadn’t closed yet, so I jumped in..

!💓!

guys. please tell me yk the references.

Tag list: @justleila @tati-the-fangirl @kxllanxtdoor @abbersreads @abislays123 @not-aya @usernamepasswordsstuff @moralesluvrr @inluvwithneteyam @twinkletwinklenotastar @ilystarz @vodoo-heart @papichulo120627 @mashiromochi @frogsandmoss @laylasbunbunny

[thepenultimateword]

Sugar and Spice Part Two

Part One

“You’re kidding me." Villain slapped her forehead, dragging the hand slowly down her face. "Of all the thousands of henchmen I could've picked, of all the dozens of departments, I chose a culinary minion? I might as well have brought a rolling pin! Or a donut!"

Henchman frowned. A whole host of arguments sat on his tongue. She might have realized his department sooner if she had taken a moment to talk instead of ordering him around like a dog. Also, she'd obviously lied about Supervillain asking for him, so she only had herself to blame for this situation, and frankly, he didn't trust anything she said anymore. In fact, he was very suspicious about what she was actually doing all the way out here and why she'd tricked a henchman to come along. Not to mention she'd jeopardized his job, maybe even his life, with her selfishness.

He quickly swallowed it all down. None of it would be met well, and he didn't need to be more on Villain's bad side than he apparently already was. He could defend his power though.

"Well, maybe if let me bake you something--"

"Just shut up." Villain plopped back down on the mattress and rolled the other direction.

Henchman stared at her back for a moment. "Should I still keep watch?"

"You might as well go to bed. You’re useless to me.”

Again with the combat-superiority bias. Henchman bit his tongue. “I might not be a good fighter, but I could still wake you up if there's trouble."

"Do whatever you want."

Fine then. He threw off his shoes, kicked under the covers, and flipped toward the wall, the bed springs squeaking aggressively under his weight.

Why should he break his back helping out a villain who didn’t even appreciate it? This was just so typical villain. What a bunch of pretentious snobs flouncing around with their "special" powers and looking down on everyone else. When it came down to it, it wasn't like Villain was really any different from him. They were both pieces. She was just as much under Supervillain's thumb.

“Excuse me?” Villain snarled.

Henchman stiffened. Did he say that out loud? Which part? How much?

He wet his lips and slowly peeked toward Villain's bed but was instantly thrown down. Villain's knees dug hard into Henchman's forearms while her hands were already around his throat, squeezing just tight enough that there was room for a trickle of breath and little else, certainly not any vocals like screaming or begging. "I'm not under anyone's thumb. Got that? I'm not afraid of anyone. If I wanted, I could finish you right here."

Henchman froze. Some prey ran, some fought back, but he was of the type that went still. Like a possum playing dead or a deer in the headlights. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. All he could really do was stare helplessly wide-eyed up at her. The ends of her hair tickled Henchman’s cheeks, and she bent close enough that he could pick out the amber specks in her molten eyes and feel the warmth of her breath across the bridge of his nose. She blinked into his gaze, and the snarl on her face softened.

She huffed. You’re just lucky I don’t have the time to clean up a body.” She unstraddled his chest and rose off the edge of the bed.

Henchman coughed a couple times and rubbing away the lingering pressure of her fingertips from his throat. "Bit of an overreaction for someone so sure of herself."

Villain whirled, red mane catching the air before floating back to her shoulders. "Do you want to die?"

Henchman smiled innocently. He was being so stupid. He knew that. But for some reason, he felt if Villain really was the sort of person who killed carelessly, she would have rid herself of him the moment he revealed the mistake. One less witness to her trip, mission, thing.

"Certainly not."

“Then shut. Up.” She flicked off the lamp on her way to her bed, blanketing them in darkness except for the sliver of street light stealing through a gap in the curtains.

“Of course, your eminence.”

Henchman curled back on his side, prey heart pounding even under the cover of freshly conjured snark. He rubbed his throat again. He was probably lucky she’d chosen a physical warning over using her powers. If there was any villain he should actually be showing respect to it was her. A primary power user. She’d been top dog of the city before Supervillain showed up and organized everything. She had the power to rearrange, but he had the power to take apart. And taking apart was so much quicker. So right hand it was.

“Villain?”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Are you running away?”

“What?” Her eyes caught the light from the street, glowing catlike. “Do you think I’m some sort of cow—”

“It’s ok if you are. I bet you could run your own city.”

She blinked.

“Supervillain’s sort of made it impossible for any sort of natural growth in the organization. He kills people for their mistakes, he pits his subordinates against each other, he doesn’t value any of tertiary power types; sometimes it feels like he doesn’t care about the strength of the organization as long as everyone else stays beneath him. It’s not like he’s at risk of being taken out by anyone. Heroes or otherwise.” Henchman caught himself, quickly shaking out his rant. “I’m just saying that it makes sense to me why you might want to leave. Do your own thing.”

"That's not any of your business." She closed her eyes again and didn't say any more.

Henchman forced his own eyes shut. Despite being tired, his thoughts were filled with Supervillain. His insides twisted into knots, raising a light bout of nausea. He couldn't go back. Henchman might be too valuable to kill, but there was no guarantee. Supervillain's decisions weren't always logical. Henchman was actually a little glad to be away from it all. There had been no hope for escape on his own--Supervillain didn't like being stolen from, and leaving was a theft of yourself--but maybe if he was on Villain's side he'd be ok.

Henchman pulled the covers closer around him. He must have fallen asleep because when he next opened his eyes, the room was lit in the dim blue-gray of early morning. The shower handle squeaked from the other side of the wall, and a few minutes later, Villain emerged in the same clothes as yesterday, hair pulled in a wet bubble braid that reached to the middle of her back. She yanked on her boots and snatched the car keys from the bedside table.

“I'll drop you off at a bus stop, but you'll have to find your own way back.”

Henchman blinked groggily at her, but as it struck he shot upright. "Back?" He gaped at her. "You want me to go back? Alone? With nothing but my own word that you forced me to come with you?"

"Well, it's not like I need you to stay. Two people are much easier to track than one."

"You screwed up my job! I missed my deadline! Supervillain could have me killed!"

"And you'll be better off begging for forgiveness than continuing on."

Henchman frowned. Was she actually looking out for him? "What if became your henchman?"

"What are you even talking about?"

"You're building your own empire, right? You'll need followers. So, I'll be the first one. I'll do everything you don't want to and prove that I'm actually useful."

Villain furrowed her brow, suspicion rearranging the pattern of her freckles. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're just a random henchman that I've never even met. Why are throwing yourself at me?"

Henchman flushed. "Ok, first of all, I don't think I'd describe it like that. Second, we have met. Last, my powers are 100% support-based. I need a boss, and I'd rather work for you than Supervillain."

"What are you going to do, make me cupcakes?"

"Sure. And pot pie. And buttermilk biscuits. And apple strudel. And--"

"How do you--"

Henchman cut the accusation short. "I know everyone of note's favorites. It was my job. Which was a pretty significant job if you ask me."

"You mildly boost powers, so what?"

"That's not..." Whatever. Henchman wasn't in the mood for convincing someone who obviously didn't want to be convinced. "Nutrition is actually a very critical part of an escape. It keeps you alert, energized, and happy. And anyway, I'm pretty sure I've spent more time being inconspicuous than you have, especially when Supervillain first took over the underbelly. I can help organize things. Give advice." He fiddled nervously with a string on his sleeve. He needed this. "Like...for example, you're going to want to trade out that car. It's nice and all but ultra-trackable. Pretty sure Supervillain has a way to hack cameras."

Villain pressed her lips together so tightly it looked painful. "Fine."

"To which part."

Villain waved her hand in the air and strode for the door. "Fine, you can come, and fine, we'll get a new car. But we're making a shopping run first. I left in a rush. So start thinking of things you need."

Henchman trotted grinning after her. “Flour, sugar, baking powder—”

"Not that. There will be no baking."

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees-deactivated@just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful@cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindonessy @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @kurai-hono-blog

[heyclickadee]

I understand that people are going to cope how they are going to cope, and trying to find meaning in the handling of Tech in season three is part of that, but it’s also okay to criticize the show.

I like a good character death. Tech’s departure was not that. My issue is not that he’s presumed dead, my issue is that it and the handling of it is nonsense. So (I once again get very negative about my favorite show under the cut):

1. When you kill off a main character, you really have to kill them off. How you do so can vary from story to story, but you really have to do four things:

One, you need a good reason to kill them off in the first place. (“Stakes” is not a good reason. A secondary character, sure, but not a main one. More on that in a minute.)

Two, you need to make it perfectly clear that the character is, in fact, dead.

Three, you need to show the other characters processing and accepting that death. This is important because doing so will allow the audience to do the same and let the character go. This is especially important if you’re writing for a young audience.

Four, you need to make it explicitly clear that the character cannot come back. This is especially true in sci fi or fantasy. Especially if you’re the Character Resurrection franchise.

And guess what the show didn’t do?

Any of that. Any of it. What it did instead was ambiguously remove Tech from the story (uniquely in a show that loves making us watch characters die on screen; last time we saw Tech for sure he was alive), never gave a good reason for doing so in or out of the show, never showed us any character working through the impact of his loss (even though there was ample opportunity for Omega, especially, to do so), and ripped the “could he come back?” box wide open by parading CX-2 in front of our faces. It is never, at any point, handled like an actual main character death. It’s handled as a plot point from which the narrative moves fairly quickly, and treated by all parties as an absence. By all the rules of storytelling, Tech isn’t dead. He’s just ambiguously gone. And that means the writing team did a terrible job if what they wanted to do was kill him off. We should not be debating this after the show has ended if he’s actually dead.

2. I understand why some fans are trying to find meaning in losing Tech. I am not, because that meaning is not offered by the text itself. And, if the plan was to never bring him back, it should have been.

We are not, for example, offered a lesson about how not everyone comes home from the war. In order for that to have been the case, we would have needed to see someone, probably Omega, working through that. We would have needed to see her refusing to accept that Tech is gone—like we do in Plan 99, by the way—and slowly coming to terms with the idea that her brother isn’t coming home. But we don’t get that, not even as subtext.

Something else we could have gotten that would have worked with all the little visual reminders of Tech, empty chairs, name-drops, and even the CX-2 leading? The batch being so haunted by losing Tech and not really knowing what happened to him for sure that they start seeing him everywhere. But for that to work we would have needed, again, to see that as an explicit subplot where someone, probably Omega, again, gets really invested in the signs that Tech is coming back and even starts assuming that CX-2 is him, only to realize that she’s seeing what she wants to see and having to accept that Tech isn’t coming back, but that she can still keep Tech’s memory alive by following in his footsteps. That’s something you can kind of project onto what we’re given in the epilogue, but you do have to project it, because it’s entirely absent from the rest of the show.

As is, Tech’s sacrifice isn’t given any weight. From a narrative perspective, it was an incredibly contrived set of circumstances that accomplished nothing except punting Tech off a train, and gave Tech no choice but to remove himself from the story—exit, stage down. Losing Tech doesn’t, even sub-textually, serve as anyone’s motivation. It does nothing to move the plot or anyone’s character development forward. The primary motivators of season three were Omega’s kidnapping, Crosshair’s PTSD, and Hemlock needing to get Omega back.

Tech’s absence does nothing to move anything forward and only really serves to slow the plot down and make the others struggle to do anything because he’s not there to carry the team like he did in the first two seasons—and nothing about that would have played out any differently if Tech spent the season in a coma in a bacta tank. The only part of Tech’s sacrifice that has meaning is that he loved his family enough to offer it. And that is profound, but that’s not something that would be negated by a return because the love and the offer remain. As for his presumed death? His return couldn’t have taken meaning away from that, because the show never gave it any meaning in the first place.

And no, Tech “dying” isn’t something I have to accept. Tech isn’t a real person, he’s an idea, and an idea that didn’t come to fruition. I can point out the ways the handling of his departure didn’t work all day if I want.

3. CX-Tech was not an overly online theory. I need people to understand this. It was an assumption made by most of the casual audience. My sister, who has no contact with the fandom and doesn’t like me discussing the show at all until she’s seen it, assumed he was Tech. My brother-in-law, who was a die-hard Tech-has-to-be-dead-shut-up guy for the entire hiatus and the first half of season three, was convinced he was Tech. Every kid I’ve spoken to who watched the show thought he was Tech and is deeply confused that he got speared like that. My brother, who doesn’t even watch the show but who does walk by when I’m watching it sometimes, thought he was Tech. You can’t get more casual and away from the fandom than that.

The thing is, the answer we get isn’t that he’s not Tech. It’s, “We’re not telling.” Which means that as it currently stands, a season-and-a-half of CX buildup amounted to a five minute boss fight and a non-answer. That’s…not something that works! That’s atrocious writing if that was the whole sum of their intent all along.

And you can say, well, that was a clever misdirect! Plot twist! Except, one, misdirects and twists only work if the real answer is more satisfying than the false one, otherwise it just falls flat. Two, if it was a misdirect, it’s not one the creative team is willing to own. No one will touch the Tech-CX-2 parallels with a twenty-foot pole, except the Kiners, who have incredibly meaningful explanations for every musical choice but then say shit like, “that chord just sounds good in brass” about Battle of the Snipers (…before going on to say that the four note lose motif from “Plan 99” is Tech’s leitmotif…which is also all over Battle of the Snipers…and is only there according because the batch is divided in that scene, a scene in which Crosshair’s leitmotif is entirely absent even though he’s just supposed to be fighting his own dark side represented by a guy who’s totally not Tech. Sure. I’m going to go eat drywall.) Because acknowledging that and saying that was supposed to be Tech will just make the audience angrier, and they may not even be allowed to do so, and saying that it is Tech—you can understand why they can’t do that, right? The implications are horrific. But that horrific implication is probably what at least some of the casual audience who will never interact with the fandom or a single interview is going to walk away with.

4. The thing that bothers me most about all of this is the combined toxicity of the fandom and the leading from the marketing and social media. Part of the fandom saying that there were never any signs Tech could have survived (in Star Wars, no less) is starting to feel like gaslighting; and while I don’t think there was any malice in the leading in the marketing and social media—I’m even willing to give a tiny bit of leeway for the creative team maybe knowing something we don’t yet—it was handled badly, expectations for this season should have been set early and clearly, and as of right now it all feels like an incredibly cruel prank at autistic fans expense, whatever the intent may have been or may still be.

5. And finally, here’s the thing: I’m willing to give the writers a bit of leeway on this. I’m willing to grant that some choices may have been out of their hands for unknown reasons. I’m even willing to say that maybe they’re not really done with this story yet, that The Bad Batch could just be the first chapter of a longer show that was split up for stupid business reasons, and that the finale is the way it is because they had to have an ending of sorts without actually resolving anything. I’m willing to grant a lot of grace there. In fact, I actually think there’s a very good chance we’ll still get Tech back alive in canon, and sooner than later, if only because no one (not even the voice actors) seems happy about this, most fans are coping but disappointed at best, the creative team got asked about Tech non-stop for a solid year and a half, and the writers don’t seem at all committed. We know from the rest of the show that they know how to definitively kill a guy, and, frankly, Tech in the first two seasons comes across as something of a writer favorite. They like using him!

But whatever I’m hoping or suspecting, and whatever leeway I’m willing to grant the creative team here, the final product is all we have right now. And I am going to criticize that final product for badly handling a (presumed) character death and straight up breaking the central conceit of the show in doing so.

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna's Wife and Yuuji's Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) Part 1

I’m an actual big sister–the eldest. What a pain. But who can hate someone as adorable as baby Yuuji? I’d hate the world less if there were more Yuuji’s in it. 

You were neighbors with grumpy old man Wasuke Itadori. The other children and even most adults didn’t like him, but you got along well with the guy. You liked that he didn’t talk down to you like the other grownups.

As a child, you hated children. (You hated people in general, but kids were a piece of work.) One exception was Yuuji. You met the toddler when Wasuke announced that he was now an orphan. 

Yuuji was a loud baby, but that wasn’t always a bad thing. When he cried, he let out fat globs of tears and his cheeks swelled. But it didn’t take much to make him happy. Just seeing you made him smile that toothless smile of his. 

He seemed to like you a lot. Maybe because you shared his grandpa’s personality. 

Over the years, you grew close with the Itadoris and you always walked to and from school with Yuuji.

You didn’t have any clubs or after school activities because you preferred to watch over Wasuke, who would yell at you for neglecting your social life. 

You were there to hold Yuuji’s hand when the eldest Itadori died. 

Yuuji didn’t cry and you didn’t want to force him to talk, but you became more sensitive and protective of him. 

Despite his protests, you cleaned the Itadori home, did Yuuji’s laundry (which you haven’t done since he was in grade school), restocked the pantry, and cooked his meals. 

One night, however, Yuuji didn’t walk home with you because he had a meeting for his club, but he promised he’ll come back in time for dinner so you carefully prepared his favorite meal. 

Yuuji was a good boy, the best boy, actually. He was genuinely sweet to everyone, he did his chores, and above all, he always, always informed you if something changed in his schedule because even though he was taller and stronger than you, he knew how much you worried. Even during the rare moments of disagreement between you two, he would always inform you if he couldn’t make it to an appointment. 

So when a whole hour passed without so much as a text message from him, you grabbed your bag and jumped out the door and into a cab heading straight for his high school. 

Your breathing became heavy the moment you reached the place. Something was wrong. Your bones ached. 

The air was heavy, thick with tension as you shakingly destroyed the campus gate lock with a rock. 

Yuuji was family to you. You practically raised that boy. If anything happened to him you would never forgive yourself. 

You didn’t have to search far for him though. A giant mass, some creature blocked the moon from high above and you just knew your brother was there.

You never ran so fast your whole life.

As Yuuji was being wrangled by the monster, your body moved before you could think and you ran forward.

“Yuuji!” You screamed, throwing a rock at the creature’s eye.

The thing didn’t let go of Yuuji but it was definitely paying attention to you now. 

Frozen, you watched futilely as it reached for you. 

Like a voice in the water, you heard a stranger call out to you–you didn’t even realize that someone else was here. It didn’t matter. You were going to die. You shut your eyes, silently asking Yuuji for forgiveness. 

Time stills–

Your tears pool.

But nothing comes.

You dared to open your eyes and realize that you’re not even standing anymore. You had collapsed on the ground. The monster was nowhere to be found.

Looking down at you was Yuuji, but at the same time, it wasn’t Yuuji. Sure the man in front of you was wearing his jacket and had his pink hair, but this wasn’t your brother.

“Finally,” the imposter whispered and your heart sped up with familiarity. 

“I found you.” He stretched forward his arm, trying to touch you but someone clapped and you gasped–a third party now cradled you in his arms. 

“Sorry,” the white-haired stranger holding you chuckled, but he wasn’t talking to you, he was talking to Yuuji’s imposter. “We can’t have you hurting civilians now, can we?”

There was a pause in the air.

You gulped. 

The tattooed Yuuji glared at the man holding you. “Let her go, or I’ll–”

He grabbed his cheek and when he spoke again, you could hear Yuuji, “Hey, what’s going on now? Give me back my body!”

“Y-Yuuji?” You muttered.

“Ah, nee-chan! You’re safe, thank god!”

“What’s happening?”

“That’s my question.”

Yuuji’s face turned again, and the voice of his imposter growled, “Don’t address my wife so casually, you brat.”

Another pause in the air.

You didn’t know what kind of face you were making, but you would’ve laughed at everybody else if you weren’t so baffled at the declaration.

The imposter: <(￣︶￣)>

Yuuji:  ( ・◇・)？

The the fair-headed stranger holding you: Σ(ＴωＴ)

The black-haired teenager you’ve never met before: （￣□￣；）

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Yuuji’s chin turned and he spoke up, “Nee-chan, I didn’t know you were married.”

Another head turned. “Don’t call her ‘nee-chan,’ and how dare you look straight into her eyes.”

“Nee-chan, have you considered getting a divorce?”

“I’m not married, Yuuji!”

Part 2

[dumbdolphin333]

So I decided to dip my toes into the Apple White drama (because I got hit in the head with a basketball like 3 times like 2 days ago so I’m pretty sure I got the common sense knocked out of me)

This is by no means a hot take, it’s quite literally such a basic opinion that you’ve seen like 5 times already. But I want to be included 🥺👉👈

Apple was manipulated since birth basically. Her trauma makes her terrified of uncertainty. Finding comfort in her destiny, preparing for it since such a young age- it’s understandable that she’d be horrified at Raven’s decision not to sign. (Also being told that she’d die go poof if Raven didn’t sign… that’s fucking scary).

However Apple was still a massive bitch to Raven. She knows that Raven doesn’t want to be evil. She knows that a terrible fate awaits Raven. And she actively pushes Raven to make the choice to go through that. To go against her nature, to hurt her friends, and to suffer for something that she was forced to do. That’s selfish. Apple acts selfishly.

But something I find interesting is that her motivations aren’t selfish. She doesn’t want her friends to suffer. To an extent, she believes that signing the storybook is better for raven. She believes that not signing will cause suffering and death for everyone. So in her mind, Raven is selfish. All Apple wants is for her friends to live good lives- and Raven wants to take that away? Oh, how selfish!

Except that’s Apple’s fear talking. Ever After is better because Raven didn’t sign. People can choose how to live their lives. Apple is just so wrapped up in her trauma that she can’t accept that. She can’t accept that things aren’t how she was taught, that what she found solace in and dedicated her life to isn’t true.

So really I think it boils down to the discussion of intent vs. actions. Apple made selfish decisions. Her decisions are absolutely influenced by trauma and manipulation, but they are her’s. Denying her any agency over what she did is pointless. And it also undermines her character development. She was meant to break out of those selfish decisions. And if those aren’t her decisions- then how did she even grow? And even though she thought that her decisions selfless, they weren’t. Which is why Apple is so goddamn interesting.

I think that at heart, Apple is a good person. But factoring her fear, trauma, and flaws she made selfish decisions. She made harmful decisions. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I honestly feel that Apple White lovers love her because she has a desire to protect those she loves. And Apple White haters hate her because she’s selfish, despite not even knowing it.

So yeah, that’s my two cents. Hope I did her character justice in my regurgitation of everyone else’s opinions analysis of her.

[seokmthw]

give me love | zhang hao

⇢ pairing: zhang hao x reader

⇢ warnings: friends to lovers, college au, slight angst, fluff, explicit language, mentions of alcohol

⇢ word count: 9.06k

⇢ synopsis: you unexpectedly meet someone at a party who was also on sober friend duty, and soon you were desperate for him to give you the same love you felt for him.

⇢ notes: this is one of my most beloved works and i thought it would be really fitting to hao! i know i said in my initial post that i wouldn't typically post lengthy fics, but this one is definitely one of my few exceptions. i hope you enjoy!

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i.

you certainly did not think you would be starting your sophomore year of college at a party your best friend, gyuvin, was throwing in his apartment to “start off the year right.”

yet, here you were.

you’d been long forgotten about the moment a massive influx of people showed up to gyuvin’s front door. it’s not like you really cared, though, because he was definitely the social butterfly of the two of you and you were more than fine being crammed on one of the bean bag chairs in the corner of his living room. it’s not like you didn’t want to watch people drunkenly make out on the couch in front of you, anyway. definitely not. 

you’d been nursing the same drink gyuvin handed you five minutes before people began to arrive for the past hour, hoping to god you could find something interesting to look at in the liquid to keep yourself occupied, considering you had been ransacked by boredom the entire time the party had been going on. 

truthfully, you wanted to either bash your head into the wall or you wanted to go back to your own apartment and crawl into your bed with your laptop and a show on the television. you would never admit that to gyuvin though, because you knew that he was happy to have you at every party he threw whether he actually spent time with you or not. you didn’t have the heart to leave until you were able to make sure he was in bed and his apartment was semi-picked up after everyone bid their - always slurred, by the way - farewells.

you could have sworn even thinking gyuvin’s name seemed to lure him to you sometimes, because the brunette was calling out your name over the music, a goofy smile on his lips and his arm slung around a boy that you’d never met before. said boy looked extremely uncomfortable as well, and you felt painfully sorry for him as the pair approached you.

“y/n!” gyuvin exclaimed, a small giggle emitting from him. you rose to your feet and practically pried your very wasted best friend off of the poor boy he was clinging onto with an apologetic smile.

“i love you!” 

gyuvin crushed you in a hug that made it impossibly hard for you to breathe. you grunted in surprise, patting him on the back, “i love you too, gyu.”

he turned to face the other boy, his smile never leaving his face as he stuck his hand out and said, “this is zhang hao, he’s hanbin’s sober friend, just like you’re mine! i figured you two could sit and talk or something. you always look like you want to die whenever you’re at one of my-” he cut himself off mid-sentence, “oh! hao, this is my best friend, y/n!”

each and every syllable that left gyuvin’s mouth was almost impossible for anyone to make out, but you’d grown so accustomed to how he spoke when he was drunk that you could understand everything he was trying to say. you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at him, slipping out of his arms enough to reach down to your drink that was shoved beside your bean bag chair. you held out the cup to gyuvin and patted him on the shoulder, telling him to search for hanbin and that you would be in the same exact spot if he needed you for anything else. 

“i take it you deal with him like this a lot?” the boy finally asked, though you jumped at his words because you had pretty much forgotten he was watching that entire scene unfold in front of him.

you turned to face him, your gaze finally meeting his without a drunk gyuvin between the two of you. you only smiled, “yeah, gotta make sure he doesn’t manage to get himself arrested. or hurt. it really just depends on the night.”

“i feel that one,” he laughed, “hanbin is almost always the exact same way.”

by now you had taken your spot back on the bean bag chair, motioning for zhang hao to inhabit the open one next to it if he wanted to. he sat down next to you, both of you angled in such a way you were able to talk face to face, “i’m surprised we haven’t met yet, to be completely honest. i see hanbin at these parties every time gyuvin hosts one.”

zhang hao nodded, “me too. he drags me to every single one even if i practically beg him not to. he’s a menace.”

you laughed at his choice of words for his friend, “same, but i’m pretty much legally obligated to attend them all otherwise i’ll get my head ripped off. i get ignored the entire time anyway so i’m always stuck here hoping my phone won’t die.”

the awkward beginning of your conversation quickly faded away as you got more comfortable with each other. you learned that zhang hao was majoring in music education with the hopes of being able to work with children across korea and hopefully internationally someday. you’d informed him that you were majoring in film production and hoped to someday take part in filming and editing music videos for groups across the country.

everything flowed so easily between the two of you, from what you hoped to get out of your future careers to what you each thought was arguably the best ben & jerry’s ice cream flavor to whether or not you thought water was wet. your night was pleasantly filled with giggles and newly formed jokes, much different from your typical experience at one of gyuvin’s infamous parties. 

you had been talking for so long that you almost didn’t realize how quickly the time was ticking by until the amount of people in the apartment started to lessen and before you knew it, the only people who were left were you, gyuvin, zhang hao, and hanbin. you rose from your seat, grateful to finally be able to stretch your limbs without the fear of tripping someone and getting alcohol spilled all over you. you and the brown haired boy next to you made your way over to your friends who were clinging onto each other for dear life and giggling like no tomorrow. you cleared your throat, “i think it’s time to get you to bed, gyu.”

“but i’m not tired yet,” he pouted, his brows furrowed in annoyance at your sudden demand for him to leave the embrace he was currently engulfed in. you sighed, “come on, dude, it’s three in the morning and i’m tired.”

gyuvin reluctantly detangled himself from hanbin and wrapped his arms around you instead, though this time you accepted him with open arms in hopes of making your time easier. you glanced over at zhang hao, who was struggling just as much as you to even get hanbin out of the house. you couldn’t help the lighthearted laugh, “you guys can stay here tonight if you want.”

visible relief washed over zhang hao, “really?” 

“yeah, i think both of them are too out of it to really notice anyway.”

you tilted your head to the side, indicating that gyuvin’s room was just down the hallway. zhang followed in behind you as you pushed the door open, revealing gyuvin’s spotless living space - which was starkly different to the rest of his house - and the plush bed that was shoved up against the wall farthest from you. gyuvin gleefully laughed, bounding toward the mattress with a wide grin as he flopped down onto the comforter and pillows.

you closed your eyes, trying like hell to grip onto the little bit of sanity you had left, and took a deep breath through your nose. gyuvin looked up from his spot on the bed, his bottom lip now jutted out and his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. 

“fuck,” you muttered under breath, gaining the attention of zhang hao, who was trying to suppress the grin tugging at his lips and who was having it a lot easier than you were right now. hanbin was practically already asleep while he was standing up.

the universe was almost always kind to you when it came to gyuvin being trashed. he almost always cooperated with you when you tried to get him in bed, albeit he was clingy beyond belief, and he never, ever pitched a fight with you. being eternally grateful for that was something you hoped carried through the wind because if the world hadn’t been so kind, you would be put through hell more often than you would like to be. sometimes your gratitude wasn’t enough.

your biggest pet peeve was when gyuvin cried while he was drunk. it was almost impossible to get him to calm down and he usually wailed at the top of his lungs like a child would after falling off their bike. the look he was giving you now told you everything you needed to know about how the next twenty minutes of your time was going to play out.

you scrambled over to the boy, cupping either side of his cheeks. you were going to try your best to prevent this from happening, “what’s wrong?”

“why don’t you ever have fun at my parties?” his voice quivered. 

no, you thought to yourself, please, for the love of all things good, don’t do this to me right now.

“gyu,” you started, “i do have fun at your parties. you’re just never around me enough to see me having fun because you’re with your other friends.”

his lip quivered slightly, and as he blinked, the first tears of the night began rolling down his cheeks, “then how come you always hide in a corner and sulk?”

“because i never had any friends at these parties other than you and hanbin, so i had nobody to talk to,” you see more tears stream down his cheeks. you quickly spat out, “but look! i have a friend now and he’ll be able to keep me company whenever you can’t!”

you threw your arm out toward zhang hao, who gave gyuvin a small wave and a reassuring smile, “i’ll make sure they don’t sulk anymore!”

gyuvin sniffled and wiped at his tears with the sleeve of his sweater, nodding at your words. you pushed some of his hair out of his face and wiped his tears, “are you ready to sleep now?”

“yeah,” he grumbled, pulling the covers back and crawling underneath them, his frown slowly turning into a smile, “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too. now get some rest, okay?” you waved zhang hao over, who practically drug hanbin to the bed and tucked him in beside gyuvin. the two were asleep the moment their heads hit the pillows. 

you breathed a sigh of relief and followed zhang hao back to the main part of the house, making sure to close the door quietly behind you. you could barely hear the chuckle he gave you, “that was a close one, huh?”

you began picking up some of the litter around the couch, “close is an understatement. when he cries it’s the worst.” you shoved the rest of the forgotten cups and various other garbage off to the side with your foot and pulled the couch out, revealing a thin mattress and creaky frame that you had grown accustomed to seeing as gyuvin refused to get a new one. he was attached to it, he would always say, he couldn’t bear the thought of parting with it. you gave zhang hao a look, “this is all we have for sleeping options, sadly.”

“that’s okay,” he reassured you, “it’s better than the floor at least.”

you went to the storage closet by the front door of the apartment and pulled out a pillow and a blanket for each of you, tossing zhang hao his share and making your way over to the bed. exhaustion was starting to catch up to you the more the night drug on, the heaviness you felt in all of your limbs was a telltale sign of that. you made sure to turn off the lamp in the living room before you crawled into the bed next to zhang hao, a blush creeping onto your cheeks out of embarrassment. you had never felt more grateful for the darkness that blanketed gyuvin’s apartment.

as if on cue, zhang hao remarked, “i definitely didn’t think i would be sharing a bed with someone i just met when i agreed to come to this party.” 

“i was just about to say the same thing,” you said, “leave it to gyuvin to cause the weirdest things to happen.”

the two of you stayed up for a while longer, talking about anything and everything. you told stories from your high school days and freshman year of college, laughing at each other’s misfortunes and bonding over some of the weirdest experiences you’d had. talking to zhang hao came so naturally to you, it almost felt as if you couldn’t stop. soon, however, sleep was starting to overcome your body.

the last thing you remember was feeling content in the warmth that radiated off the boy next to you.

ii.

“kim gyuvin, i swear to fucking god i’m gonna kill you!” you screeched, scrambling to grab your things off of the table in front of you before anything was soaked in the hot coffee he spilled. 

this is most definitely not what you signed up for when you decided to drop by the library to do homework and visit gyuvin on his break at work. there was a coffee shop tucked into the corner of the library, which was where he worked, and he stopped by to bring you a dose of caffeine to help you fly through the many assignments that had bombarded you. he had lost his grip on the coffee cup and somehow managed to practically throw it at you, resulting in your most recent panic and the burning hot liquid to be seeping through the front of your t-shirt. 

“y/n, will you calm down?” the boy hissed, “you’re causing people to stare. besides, it’s not even that bad.”

you scowled at him, shaking all of your loose notes in front of his face, “says the one who’s graphic design notes aren’t in jeopardy and the one who didn’t get a single drop of it on him.”

one of the librarians was kind enough to bring you some of the cleaning supplies they had stored in a closet behind the desk. you smiled at her, muttering a quick apology before you attempted to soak up as much of the coffee as you could. gyuvin couldn’t suppress the smile he was adorning and he made sure to take all of your things from the table so they didn’t get harmed by his mess either.

“i don’t think it’s very funny.”

“you’re right, my dear best friend,” gyuvin retorted, “it’s hilarious.”

by now you had finished cleaning up the table, a mound of dripping paper towels now inhabiting your hands. you hurried over to the nearest trash can and let them fall inside of it with a plop, opting to just wipe your hands on your shirt since it was already stained. there wasn’t much more damage that could be done to it anyway.

as you neared your table once more, gyuvin was beginning to walk away from it. he gave a quick hug, “i have to go, my break is over and my boss is going to kill me if i’m late clocking back in again.”

“you owe me a new coffee and a new shirt, asshole.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. i’ll see you later, okay?” with that, gyuvin was practically sprinting back to the cafe. you couldn’t help but laugh at him; he deserved to get chewed out. he ruined a perfectly good shirt.

you sat back down in your chair, pulling your notes out once more in an attempt to get this stupid project taken care of. it had really dampened your mood when the professor announced you had to make a detailed infographic over a topic that he assigned to you, which made it that much harder because you were given one that you could care less about. to top it all off, you now had no coffee and a damp shirt. 

you heaved a frustrated sigh. you could only hope that this project would go well and your day would get better than it was going, because you'd had enough embarrassment in the past ten minutes to last yourself a lifetime. 

“rough day?” you could hear a person’s voice to the right side of you, which caused you to visibly jump in surprise. you turned to face the owner, only to be greeted with the beaming smile of zhang hao. you hadn’t seen him since the party a few days ago, but the two of you had texted nonstop almost every single day since he left gyuvin’s apartment with a very hungover hanbin. you returned his grin, “you don’t even know the half of it. i take it you saw all of that?”

“it was kind of hard not to. it’s not everyday someone’s yelling profanities in the middle of the library,” he admitted with a chuckle. 

you turned red at his remark. if you didn’t feel an ungodly amount of embarrassment before, you sure did now, especially knowing this all unraveled right in front of your new friend. you buried your face in your hands, “i’m gonna stab gyuvin someday. mark my words.”

zhang hao’s eyes flitted to your shirt, a look of sympathy flashing across his gaze while he sat down in the chair across from you. he quickly took his hoodie off of his body, holding it out to you, “here, go change into this.”

“are you sure?” you asked, your eyes wide at his offer. he only smiled, pushing it further into your direction until you finally took it from his grasp. you thanked him before making your way to the bathroom.

you weren’t sure if it was the way he seemed to go pink when he was handing you his hoodie or if it was the fact that you had it in the first place that made your heart flutter in your chest, but irregardless, it was still happening and you weren’t sure what to make of it. sure, you’d definitely grown fond of the boy in the short few days you’d been talking to him, but you didn’t think it was enough to cause you to feel the way you did right now.

you pushed into the empty bathroom and entered the stall furthest from the door, not wanting to risk the chance of someone trying to barge in while you had your shirt off. the walls were covered in countless messages written by people over the course of the years; obscenities, phone numbers, and _+_ written in the middle of poorly drawn hearts. your university clearly didn’t check the bathrooms regularly enough, or they simply did not care about what was written on them. you wouldn’t be shocked either, if you were completely honest. it was rare enough that the university apartments even had decent heat in the winter, god forbid they’re asked to keep their bathrooms looking nice.

you peeled your shirt off, grimacing at how gross it truly felt clinging to your skin until it was completely off your body. gyuvin definitely owed you a new shirt - though you were positive he owed you a lot more than just that; your dignity, perhaps? you made the attempt to fold it as neatly as you could, but there was only so much you could do when it was in the condition it was. 

you now grabbed the soft cotton sweatshirt from the hook on the door, smiling fondly before you slipped it over your head. it still had every last bit of zhang hao’s warmth inside of it, which was a nice change from the cold air hitting your wet skin. it smelled faintly of vanilla and laundry soap, just what you would have expected from zhang hao. simple scents for someone who seemed like a simple guy. 

feeling much better than you did just moments prior, you smiled to yourself and left the stall. you caught a glimpse in the mirror of how the hoodie seemed to fit you nicely you before you left the bathroom and cursed yourself for blushing so easily. it’s just because i’m embarrassed, you thought. 

by the time you got back to your spot, zhang hao was already hunched over a textbook, his hand scribbling notes down on the paper beside him. he only looked up when you pushed your chair back and plopped down, shoving your shirt into one of the empty pockets in your backpack, “thank you for letting me borrow this, i feel a lot better.”

zhang hao was thankful that you didn’t see him nervously swallow, “it’s no problem, anything for a friend.”

a comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you both delved back into your work. you kept finding yourself getting distracted by every little thing, whether it be someone coughing or your interest in anything but the task in front of you. soon your mind was wandering further than you hoped for it to, your project shoved to the side and your eyes trained on the same part of your laptop screen. you mentally cursed yourself out for daydreaming so much; you never meant to, it just happened. more often than you’d like to admit, but still.

little did you know, it caught the interest of zhang hao and made him smile to himself as he continued reading the words printed on the glossy pages in front of him. 

a couple hours later, you found yourself in one of the dining facilities with zhang hao, the both of you scarfing down your food like it was the last meal you would ever be able to eat. studying made you guys hungry, you told yourselves, you deserved it. zhang hao was the one who suggested you grab a bite to eat after all the hard work that you guys - mostly him, that is - did within the time at the library.

“i usually have time to actually eat lunch only on mondays and wednesdays. any other time, i have to get something from the grab and go portion of the dining facilities,” the brown haired boy informed you, his cheeks puffed out from the chicken he was currently working on chewing, “so i’m glad you got coffee spilled on you today. i have a buddy to eat with.”

“that’s usually when i’m free too!” you exclaimed, a grin lighting up your face, “maybe we can make it a part of our routine to eat together?”

“yeah, i’d love that!”

iii.

you kept up with your plans that you made with your friend for the past month now. every monday and wednesday out of the week you ventured to different dining facilities scattered across campus. each time you were filled with delicious food and pleasant conversation, but you couldn’t help but feel yourself start to get anxious. 

you were developing feelings for zhang hao.

they had hit you like a truck, completely uninvited, though you had been suppressing them for longer than you would ever admit to yourself. it had been at one of gyuvin’s parties when zhang hao helped you with cleaning up the mess around the house for the nth time since the semester started. 

“we always find ourselves in this situation, huh?” he’d remarked, “i wouldn’t want it to be anyone else, though.”

you had to stop yourself from dropping a solo cup full of beer all over the floor in gyuvin’s kitchen. you instantly felt your cheeks heat up, turning away from him so he couldn’t see you; there was no reason for you to look like a tomato in his presence. 

you mentally screamed at yourself. it was the simplest of statements, but nonetheless it ignited a whirlwind of feeling inside of you that you hadn’t been able to figure out. you wanted to slap yourself to get it out of your head that you were just friends. nothing more, nothing less. friends.

“i wouldn’t want it to be, either.”

the moment you brought it up to gyuvin, he wouldn’t let you live it down. his best friend had a crush, whether you wanted to admit it or not, and he was determined to play matchmaker. many hits to his arm and a few choice words later, the brunette was swearing he would keep his nose out of it. besides, you knew that zhang hao meant it in the most friendly way possible. there was absolutely no way that he felt the same way as you, so there was really no need to dwell on it. surely you would get over it. right?

wrong.

you were now sprawled out on the couch with your head in gyuvin’s lap, your eyes closed, as he threaded his fingers through your hair. you’d finally broke down and admitted you had a crush, but you were almost positive it would go nowhere. sighing, you said, “i don’t know what to do, gyu. i know he doesn’t feel the same, so telling him will only ruin our friendship, and i like having him in my life.”

“you don’t know what his thought process is, dummy,” gyuvin snorted, “for all you know, he could be madly in love with you.”

“i highly doubt that,” your eyes were now open and were looking up at your best friend, who seemed to be deep in thought. he was silent for a while. too silent, might you add, because the boy hardly ever knew when to shut up. sometimes it was both a blessing and curse.

finally, he said, “maybe you should suggest playing truth or dare at the party this saturday. maybe i can even force you two to join if you’re too scared.”

now it was your turn to be deep in thought. you had been venturing out a little more at gyuvin’s parties lately, though zhang hao was always by your side. it wouldn’t hurt to at least see if he wanted to play, though you knew you would be too scared to even think about asking him. you sighed in defeat, “i don’t know… it seems like a good idea, but what would we even be asked to do if we picked dare?”

“you’re overthinking this,” gyuvin stated, giving your forehead a harsh flick.

“okay, mr. i can never make up my fucking mind about anything,” you countered, though you knew he was right, “can i trust you with this?”

gyuvin held his hand over his heart, mock offense clear due to his wide eyes and parted lips, “how dare you think i would do something irrational. shame on you.”

“i’m serious, gyu.”

his joking demeanor soon abided and now his face held a serious, more concerned look, “of course you can trust me. i’m not going to make you guys do anything like seven minutes in heaven or something stupid.”

you hoped you were making the right decision.

iv.

to say you felt like you were going to throw up was an understatement. saturday had rolled around far too quickly for your liking and you desperately wanted to go back to the beginning of the week. maybe you were making the wrong decision. maybe playing truth or dare was the worst idea you could ever make. 

“hello? earth to y/n?” coming to your senses, you’d realized that people had begun to show up little by little, hanbin and zhang hao being some of the first to arrive. you felt your heart flip in your chest the moment you made eye contact with him, but managed to keep yourself composed. 

you offered a small laugh, “sorry, i must have been daydreaming again.”

the group surrounding you chimed in with their own laughs, but you felt even more scared now that zhang hao was standing right in front of you. there was no turning back now, you supposed. 

gyuvin was able to read you like a book, because the next thing you knew, he was shoving a red solo cup into your hand as well as zhang hao’s and sending you away without much thought. you took your spots on your usual bean bag chairs in the corner, looking over to see gyuvin letting even more people into his house upon hearing their knocks. 

“you think he’s ever going to stop throwing these parties someday?” zhang hao inquired, snagging your attention from the door that was far too interesting to you. 

you chuckled, “doubt it. he lives and breathes for these parties. it’s a way for him to de-stress.”

before you knew it, you were falling into your normal conversation with him once more. the reason you were so anxious faded into the back of your mind the moment zhang hao started showing you pictures and videos of his dog. things were always so comfortable with him. you cursed him for causing you to feel as if nothing else really mattered whenever you were around him. 

the music thumping almost completely drowned out the rest of the chaos going on in other various parts of the house. you’d finished your drink for once - though you blamed that solely on the fact that he smiled at you and you forgot how to function - and you were feeling relatively good about the night. 

gyuvin finally bounded over to you, and much to your surprise, he wasn’t totally trashed, “guys, come on, we’re playing truth or dare! it’s about time you actually play a game, yeah?”

you swallowed harshly, turning to gauge zhang hao’s reaction. he merely shrugged, rising from his spot and offering you his hand. you took it, hope to god that he wasn’t able to feel the insane amount of sweat you had accumulated within the few short moments of all of this. gyuvin was surprised to see zhang hao give in so easily, as were you.

you followed gyuvin into his spare room, which he used for an office, and sat down in the few open spots left in the circle. you were able to recognize a few people you went shared classes with, like seok matthew and park gunwook, as well as a few other unfamiliar faces. you felt relief to feel gyuvin sit down next to you and see hanbin make his way into the room as well.

the circle was rather large and you hoped you wouldn’t manage to embarrass yourself in front of everyone. gyuvin was quick to get the game started, asking you a harmless truth question to start out with. the game continued on, not getting too interesting within the first few rounds. the most anyone had to do was take their shirt off, which you honestly expected considering you were at a party and people had alcohol coursing through their veins. 

“truth or dare, hao?” gunwook asked, now beginning what felt like the millionth round of the game. hao sat there for a moment, contemplating his options before finally stating, “dare.”

gunwook looked over at you and smirked. mischief lurked behind his dark eyes, his plump lips parting to say, “i dare you to kiss y/n.”

the lump residing in your throat made itself known within mere seconds of the words being spoken. gyuvin tensed up next to you, indicating that this is definitely not how he expected the game to go. you were frozen, at a standstill, really. zhang hao’s eyes met with your own and you could tell he was having an inner debate.

“i mean, we’re just friends, right? no harm, no foul?” 

you could feel your heart sink in your chest. just friends. nothing more, nothing less. it wasn’t like you expected anything less from the universe, so you just decided to give in. you nodded, “right.”

you knew gyuvin was going to chew you out for this. you knew that you were going to beat yourself up every single day for it. but did that stop you from letting him come over to your side of the circle, squatting in front of you, and pressing his lips against yours? absolutely not.

kissing him was almost indescribable. it was the first time you had kissed someone and actually felt something. you leaned lightly into him, having to suppress a sad whine when he pulled away just as quickly as he kissed you. he gave you a small, close-lipped smile before he settled back down in his spot next to hanbin once more. 

you swore you could feel yourself breaking. 

gyuvin was able to rub small circles in your back without anyone noticing. it was the thing he always did when he knew you were upset, whether you showed it visibly or not. he could feel the sadness radiating off of you in waves and he hated it. he hated it because he internally blamed himself for this. he was the reason why you were hurting. if he hadn’t suggested this, you wouldn’t be feeling what he knew you were. 

the game continued on and you were able to put on a front better than you expected. your laughs even seemed believable. but if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted nothing more to crawl into your bed and cry for the rest of the night. 

which, you were able to do, except the crying part. the moment your head hit your pillows after the long night you had, you just didn’t have it in you to cry. instead, you spent the entire week wallowing in your own self-pity. you’d given zhang hao the excuse of feeling under the weather to avoid even being in his presence at all. you needed to figure yourself and your feelings out.

that proved to be a lot more difficult than it sounded, though.

even though you were in bed, either trying to grasp the little motivation you had left to do your assignments or stuffing your face with ice cream - it was a good coping mechanism, you told yourself - your mind was still riddled with thoughts of that night. with how right it felt to have his lips against yours, or how badly you wanted him to swoop back in for another kiss the moment he pulled away. you hated being like this, you really did, but for some reason you just couldn’t get yourself out of your funk.

“how long has it been since you talked to him?” gyuvin asked through the speaker of your phone, which was laying flat on your chest as you stared up at the ceiling above your bed. 

you sighed, reluctant to answer his question, “if you mean in person, at the party on saturday. over text, then on monday. i made up an excuse to get out of lunch with him this week.”

you were greeted with radio silence on gyuvin’s end. if that was anything to go by, it certainly was never a good sign. it meant he was either scheming something or he was about to start yelling at you, though you weren’t sure which of the two was worse. 

“gyu?” you finally decided to break said silence, hoping he would respond, but there was absolutely no movement or sound from his end. not even the soft whirr of his fan could be heard, which gave away the fact that he muted his mic.

it was uncommon for gyuvin to burst into your apartment like he owned the place, but it still caught you off guard every single time. your bedroom door swung open, your best friend standing between the frame for a moment before he charged to your bed and ripped all of the blankets from your body. you let out a yelp of surprise, scrambling to move away from his death grip as quickly as you could. 

“what the fuck!”

“you,” gyuvin gripped onto your shoulders tightly, forcing you to look him in the eyes, “are going to get your ass into the shower and make yourself look presentable. and then you’re going to see if zhang hao wants to get dinner tonight. i’m sick of seeing you wallow in self-pity.”

he earned a groan of annoyance from you, “i don’t exactly want to see him, gyuvin. I’m worried things are going to be awkward between us.”

“you still care about him, don’t you?”

“yes.”

“you were also the one to tell me you enjoyed having him in your life, correct?”

“i forgot about that, but yes.”

“then you’re going to dinner and you’re going to continue to be friends with him,” gyuvin stated matter-of-factly. he was practically dragging you out of bed at this point, shoving your body toward your bathroom. 

you softly sighed. you supposed he was right, but you would never admit that. zhang hao was still important to you and you’d rather be friendzoned by him a million times than lose him entirely. you flipped the bathroom light on, only to almost turn it off after seeing your reflection. you did look pretty bad, so maybe dressing up a bit and finally seeing zhang hao would make you feel a little better.

“where’s your phone?”

you squinted at gyuvin, “why do you need it?”

“because i’m going to cover for you and make the plans while you’re in the bath.”

you told him where it was and shut the bathroom door as he left, quickly discarding your clothes and stepping into your shower. the water felt nice running over your body, all of your worries and concerns washing away with it. maybe this was the better option, staying friends with zhang hao. everything still stung, but you were willing to deal with it. you had been giving the boy the cold shoulder as of late and you felt extremely guilty about it because it was you being selfish above everything else. he didn’t even know he upset you, so it wasn’t exactly fair for you to hold a grudge against him. 

you quickly finished your shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel around your body and your head, walking into your room with a content sigh. gyuvin was sat cross-legged on his bed, presumably playing a game on his phone as you picked up your own to check the damage he may have caused in your conversation with zhang hao.

[you] hey, sorry for not texting much this week. i was feeling super sick but i’m better now! do you wanna get dinner or something and catch up?

[hao] i thought you were mad at me, to be honest. it’s a relief to know you weren’t. dinner sounds good though! does 6:30 work?

[you] yep, sounds good! maybe we can order pizza at my place and watch a movie?

[hao] sure! i can’t wait :)

“thank you, gyu,” you said, “i really don’t know what i would do without you.”

“i know. now get ready, okay? i’m gonna head out and let you do your thing.”

he gave you a hug and left your apartment a lot less violently than he came in, which caused a small chuckle to slip past your lips. you had only an hour or so until zhang hao was supposed to come over, so you opted for a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt adorning your college’s logo across the front of it. you looked at least a little more put together than you did not even an hour prior, so you were happy with the turn out, even if it was a bit minimal.

the minutes until zhang hao’s arrival ticked by painfully slow, even after you occupied yourself with ordering the pizza and pulling up the movie he had texted you about that he wanted to watch. soon, however, there was a light knock on your door and you were sent into a mini heart attack from the sudden break in silence. 

you padded to the door, greeting the boy with a bright smile. you had to admit, seeing him in the flesh felt a lot better than you expected. however, the moment he pulled your body into a hug, you could feel the gears turning in your head. you pushed them away the best you could, “i’m glad you were able to come!”

“me too, lunch has been pretty lonely this week without you,” zhang hao replied, pulling away from the hug and giving you one of his beautiful smiles. butterflies went off in your stomach. 

guilt now riddled your entire body. the thought of zhang hao having to eat alone on your designated days of the week made you feel a pang of sadness, especially since you were the one to cancel your plans. you really just needed to get over yourself; in the long run, your crush on him didn’t matter as much as seeing him smile did.

the pizza was delivered shortly after his arrival, and the two you dug in, filling your bellies and your cheeks more than you probably should have. he filled you in on what his crazy psychology professor had done during the week and you were able to easily lie and say you spent most of your time sleeping. things were finally feeling normal with him and you were hoping it would stay that way, that your feelings would be kept at bay. however, there was a voice in the back of your mind that was nagging at you to say something to him, anything.

you sighed softly, “hey, can we talk, you know, about truth or dare game?” not exactly what you wanted to say, but it was definitely too late to take it back.

zhang hao was quiet, turning his head to face you with a look you couldn’t quite read. you were just now taking note of how pretty his eyes were and how his hair was styled a bit differently than it normally was, a sliver of his forehead on display. he looked insanely good today, not that he didn’t everyday, but you were definitely swooning more than you wanted to admit. you blinked, slowly, finally ripping your gaze away from his.

“yeah, about that,” he started, “i just wanted to apologize for it. i wasn’t really thinking and didn’t realize it would take such a toll on you. i should have asked first.”

“It’s not that i was uncomfortable, i was just mainly worried about how our friendship would be affected,” you replied, your words holding the truth to them. you knew you would like his answer, but you got it anyway.

“nothing has to change or be awkward, yeah? we can just put it past us and carry on as friends like normal.” 

your week of sulking and your talk with gyuvin had prepared you for accepting that, so it was easy to nod your head and say, “that sounds perfect.”

but little did you know, zhang hao was freaking out just as much as you were.

he’d beat himself up for even spitting out the words “just friends” saturday night, and he surely was for emphasizing it again. he took every word that hanbin lashed out on him, trying his best not to fight, because he knew he deserved it. he basically friendzoned himself before you could and it clung onto his every waking thought when he left gyuvin’s apartment that night. 

a million thoughts raced across his mind, much like yours; did he mess up your friendship forever? did you even want to talk to him anymore? how were you feeling after everything unraveled?

after your conversation, he had no doubt in his mind that you didn’t hold any ill feelings toward him. sitting next to you on your floor, eyes trained on the television, he couldn’t help but feel like an even bigger idiot. surely he was overthinking everything because you certainly seemed fine. you acted as you normally did, cracking jokes left and right and listening intently to his every word when he was telling you a story. 

he still felt the same fluttering in his chest that he’d had from the very first time he met you. he sighed, deciding to focus his attention back on the movie instead of dwelling on something he knew was definitely not true now.

the moment your head lulled to the side and landed on his shoulder, your eyes closed and soft breathing the only sounds he was able to hear from you, he nearly melted. he hoped that this isn’t something he would think about for the next week straight, but he knew deep in his heart that he would.

because when it came to you, he couldn’t seem to get his mind to shut off.

v.

who was zhang hao?

he was the other sober friend you made at gyuvin’s start of the year party. he was your lunch date every monday and wednesday in various locations of campus depending on how the two of you were feeling. he was someone you found yourself turning to when you were having a bad week and gyuvin was unable to be there for you. he was the friend that made sure you took frequent breaks into the hours you put in studying for tests and working on projects. he was a friend you would cherish for the rest of your life.

and he was the friend you had undoubtedly fallen in love with.

you’d accepted your fate of unrequited love a long time ago. long after you admitted your crush on him to yourself and gyuvin. long after you knew you would be friendzoned for the rest of your time knowing him. you were okay with loving him in silence. it made you feel a lot better that he at least loved you enough as a friend. 

the two of you spent a lot more time together as the semester passed by and soon finals week was rolling around. your stress levels were high and you were grumpier than you ever wanted to be, especially to poor gyuvin. he always tried his best to distract you from your work long enough to make your sour mood lessen, which you were eternally grateful for, but sometimes the boy got on your nerves.

it wasn’t like he meant to, and you appreciated him all the more for at least attempting his luck, but he really just didn’t know when to shut his mouth while you were in the middle of trying to perfect some of the fonts and layout of information on yet another infographic you had to complete for your graphic design class as your final project. you eventually asked him to, for the love of god, shut up, and he sealed his lips for the rest of the night. 

you were nearing the end of finals week and gyuvin was expected to pull a double three days out of the week at work to cater to the caffeine deprived students going to the cafe to drown their sorrows in espresso and cold brew, so he was out of commission once you turned in your last assignment for the semester. 

you decided to shoot zhang hao a text and ask how things were going on his end, and once he replied and said that he was finally free from the chains of hell, you suggested hitting up your favorite convenience store to get snacks and celebrate a successful semester. he was at the front door of your apartment within mere minutes.

the clothes that adorned his body were nothing special. just a pair of black sweatpants, the same gray hoodie he let you borrow when gyuvin spilled coffee all over you, and a white baseball cap to hide his hair - which you knew him well enough to know that it was a mess. though it was a simple look, it was something that was wholeheartedly zhang hao.

the two of you practically ran out to his car out of excitement, feeling relief wash over you at the realization that you didn’t have to worry about more assignments for a good month and a half. you were the first to check out with your things and you told zhang hao you would be waiting outside for him whenever he was done. 

he came out with nearly two plastic bags full of his favorite snacks and drinks five minutes later, only to see you standing on the edge of the sidewalk with your eyes staring out into the vacant parking lot, your head spinning a million miles a minute. 

“y/n?” zhang hao murmured softly, his fingers reaching out to touch your arm gently, “is everything okay?”

“yeah, my mind is just wandering again, you know how i can get sometimes,” you replied, finally tearing your gaze away from the peeling sticker on one the gas pumps. you looked up at him with a tired smile.

he peered down at you with a soft grin curling on the end of his lips. your stomach twisted at the sight, more so than it had before he showed up to your apartment. the more time you spent with him, the more your feelings for him felt amplified by a thousand.

he always had that effect on you. 

“what were you thinking about? you ought to let me take a trip on one of your little mind adventures sometime,” his words were careful as his eyes searched yours, “but only if you want to, of course.”

a small silence clung to the chilly air of the night, the cheap tube lights above your heads flickering and caressing his facial features in the most beautiful way you could ever imagine. you decided to throw caution to the wind and be honest with him. you didn’t feel like yourself the entire time you were speaking. 

“i was thinking about you, hao,” you muttered, poking his arm playfully all while still managing to keep your gaze locked with his. 

he appeared taken aback by your sudden statement, confusion blooming across his features as he inquired, “thinking… good things about me? or did i do something wrong?”

you felt panic rise in your throat, hurriedly saying, “god, no, it’s nothing bad i promise. i would tell you if that were the case.”

zhang hao nodded, his lips swiping over his chapped lips in an attempt to distract himself from the confusion he felt at his words. nice going, idiot, you thought to yourself, now you really screwed this up. you sighed, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly as you looked down at your feet, taking the time to kick a loose rock before you finally questioned, “we’re good friends, right?”

you didn’t dare look up to see his answer to your question because you already knew he was nodding his head in reply, enforcing the friendzone for the final time he needed to in order for you to truly lose hope. your heart felt incredibly heavy at his response even if you knew that would be the answer. however, you didn’t expect the next few sentences he said next, “if you want us to be friends, of course. if not, that’s okay too.”

you really, really needed to stop ruining things. there was an obvious shift in his tone and you finally looked up to gauge his expression, but it was unreadable. it seemed he was fighting something with himself, but the frustrated sigh he let out didn’t give you much time to think about it, “that wasn’t meant to come out the way it did, i’m sorry.”

you cocked your head to the side in confusion, letting him continue to talk as he parted his lips, “i really do want to be considerate of your feelings and i want to stay friends with you in any way possible, but i’m not sure if i can keep this bottled up anymore.” you felt anxiety instantly begin to bubble in your stomach as he shuffled his feet nervously in front of him. 

“i like you,y/n. i have since the very first night we met and had to share the horrible pull out couch at gyuvin’s apartment, and i’m sorry. you obviously don’t have to reciprocate my feelings, it’s just that i wanted to get this off my chest and felt like now was the right time. i don’t know why, but it did.” 

you stood in shock, the snack bag in your hand almost falling from your grasp. you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine, your far fetched dreams of zhang hao liking you back singing in your ears as his words rang over and over again in your mind. you couldn’t help the bright smile that creeped onto your lips, your eyes sparkling brighter than the prettiest stars zhang hao had ever seen.

“i... like you too?” your words moved slower than you ever expected them to, but they felt good to finally say out loud, “i’ve had too many mental breakdowns on gyuvin over it because i was so afraid of ruining the relationship we already had, so that’s why i didn’t say anything.”

zhang hao’s entire face lit up, and the silent second in between your confessions slipped effortlessly into small bits of laughter before the boy was pulling your body close to his, your arms instinctively wrapping around his waist and his chin rested comfortably on top of your head, “here i was getting all worked up over this for absolutely nothing,” he chuckled, “i’m so glad you feel the same, though.”

“me too,” you replied with a content sigh.

it hadn’t been the dramatic kind of confession you’d see in a movie. it was just zhang hao and his warm heart and kind words in the middle of a chilly, stressful night. it was more than enough to make you feel a euphoria you never had, and not too much to make you sick of the feeling.

however, you were sure that it was enough to make you love him just a little bit more.

[fillinforlater]

Blonde: Chapter III

Female Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 2500 words

Tags: angst/fluff, another bad day, losing your dignity, illness, someone who cares, there is a fever dream, Gaeul's relationship, struggling with your identity, we got a twist at the end

Inspiration: "Why Am I Like This?" by Orla Gartland

(A/N: Finally, another chapter to this slowly developing plot. I jope you enjoy it. @firagaarmor for obvious reasons)

"Didn't you say 108,000?"

"No, sir, it's 180,500 won."

"Oh, I see."

The old, fragile fingers of this confused, bald man creep back into his purse, trying to find another bill in what is probably a maze of money and plastic cards for him. You wouldn’t mind it one bit, you get paid either way and on usual nights, traffic is so little that barely anyone else gets inconvenienced. However, tonight is rather unusual. Apparently everyone forgot something and is now in a haste to buy said something. There is a long line of impatient stressed moms, annoyed teenagers and everything in between or beyond showing or voicing their disapproval.

It’s not you, you’re not the cause for their stress and discomfort, yet the customer’s toxicity still flies to you like you’re some kind of magnet. It all comes back to stab you, with passive-aggressive remarks or the glances up and down your small frame. Doesn’t really help that you only had cold ramen noodles, sweets and a little bit of bread in the past five days and that the ice cold showers make your nose itch with an impending cold. God, you must look pathetically miserable, even for your standards.

After the man finally gets his cash together, the checkouts are fast, heartless, and your heart aches for her to be at the end of the line. Gaeul—with her bright hair and even brighter smile to greet you when she is out buying drinks again—she could really save this evening. You yearn for her encouragement and presence more than for the next hot meal. Maybe even more than for the next two hot meals. 

But there is no blonde angel to save you tonight. With the last customer buying their groceries, the lights die one by one, leaving you in a mostly empty store, alone with thousands and thousands of tasty and not-so-tasty products you’d love to put into a pan and fry. The thuds of your sneakers on the floor almost drown out the grumble in your stomach or the sniffling of your nose as you walk into yet another cold night with nothing to look forward to. 

I fucking hate this shit. 

#

You want to vomit, throw yourself off your bed, tear every single strand of your dark hair out as you dial your mother's number again. You hope it’s over quickly, but one can never know with her, especially if she still stubbornly refuses to help you. Take deep breaths, try to keep your head straight though thinking has become more and more exhaustive with every calorie you’re missing. 

“What is it?” your mother groans, though you find her tone to be a lot more amused than last time. Someone is cheering and laughing in the background, drowning out even the loud TV. 

“The bills, mom. I still have no electricity, no hot water, no heater.”

“Oh right.”

A response colder than your room. You try to straighten your back to speak to her loud and clear, with at least some authority, but you feel yourself crumble when the clanking of bottles loudly booms through the speaker.

“Did… did your boss finally pay you?” you carefully ask, earning an immediate response.

“Yes, he did.”

“Then why didn’t you pay the bills?”

Silence, except for the crime drama running in the back, finding all the suspects and then the killer, as they always do. This case right here is totally clear, no one needs to investigate for more than five minutes to find out that she is at fault, yet it feels like you're on trial, awaiting your parole, which for some reason is still in the balance.

“You know, sweetheart,” your mother cheekily responds, her saliva loudly flopping around in her mouth, mixed with the disgusting flavor of cigarettes and beer. “I really worked hard for that money. It’s my money. In the end I can decide what happens with it.”

Oh God, don’t do that, please for the love of—and don’t call me sweetheart.

“You can’t be serious,” you barely chirp out, your heart throbbing, crumbling like your entire body as you can see your entire foundation, the fragile remains of your fake stability finally falter. You can never cover all of your expenses with this one job and you can’t quit school now, not after getting so close to finally finishing it. You need her money and she seems to finally use it against you.

“It’s just the truth,” she responds nonchalantly, her voice a lot lighter and higher in pitch than usual. You hear someone cackle in the background.

“Sweetheart.

Don’t call me that.

“How about you—

Don’t do this.

“—start begging for my money. C’mon! Get on your knees and beg for it! I’m tired of funding your lazy, incompetent lifestyle. You should be so grateful for my throwing money at you all these years. 

“I didn’t hear you! Get your lazy ass out of your bed now, and on your damn knees.

“Beg for it.”

Laughter from behind her. It's not the TV.

#

A hot shower, warm noodles, a cozy bed—they never felt so wrong, so disgusting. Even as your life objectively improves, it feels horrible, like you had to sell yourself and your soul for it to happen.

Your knees are still drawn to the floor. You might sit in a chair, listen to teachers all day or sit at the checkout, pulling items over the scanner, your knees still feel like they should get on the floor and beg.

Please let me pass.

Please give me more money.

Please leave me alone.

Please ignore my embarrassing existence.

"Hey."

"Uhhh, good evening, ma'a—Gaeul?"

Gaeul's dainty fingers catch your shoulders as you slump forward, against the checkout counter and almost fold over. Your body, devoid of energy, loses all tension.

“Hey, hey,” Gaeul calls out to you, and like the caring mother you never had, the warm palm of her hand cups your forehead. “Oh lord, you’re so hot! You’re definitely sick, what are you doing here?”

“I-I have to work,” you respond, a wave of something hot and heavy pressing down on your brain. This lava burns itself into you and makes every thought process excruciatingly hard. You haven’t even noticed it until now. “I’m not sick, every-thing is fine.”

Your smile is weak, dozy and fake, it cannot fool Gaeul a bit. Her beautiful face falls into deep wrinkles of worry as you can barely lift yourself out of her supporting arms. There is an awkward pause between the two of you, only interrupted by another customer clearing their throat. You try to get back to scanning, but one of Gaeul’s cans slips through your fingers a couple of times.

“I don’t think you should do this,” Gaeul says quietly, softly. “You don’t need to prove your toughness, it’s okay to be sick for a few days. I think your boss will understand.”

“Really, Gaeul, I’m okay.” The final can, straight into the blonde’s bag. Through your blurry eyes you can barely make out the color of her jacket, or sweater, or whatever it is—either way, it definitely suits her. “Thanks for worrying though.”

#

Why did I push her away like this? Why didn’t I listen to her? Why am I always like this?

Everything is hot and everything is cold. You need another jacket or the cold will get worse, but it simultaneously feels like you could die from overheating if you don’t start throwing away layer after layer of clothes. The way your body feels is close to how the inner mechanisms in your brain work in this fever haze. There is nothing, no thought, no conclusion, nothing that matters—yet everything is suddenly relevant.

Objects and details you’ve never actively released before come into focus of your decreasing sight, that one tile in the corner, just as dirty and unspecial as the rest, the second package of gum, purple and pink, the spooky hum when the door opens that never appears when it closes. So you stumble out of the store, tripping over your feet until the fever finally strikes you down.

The concrete, its gray color, is darker the colder it gets. It’s also harder, torturous to lay upon, scorching hot skin on freezing tarmac. Suddenly, brand new sneakers, black and white, small feet, about as small as your own, though they could be—

“Oh my God!”

—a bit bigger, judging by the length of the stockings covered legs that—

“Here, I’ll help you”

—disappear in a plaid skirt, above a combo of thick winter jacket and—

“I knew this was bad. Taxi!”

—a girl, whose hair is both silver and golden, a blonde close to whiteness, nonetheless it looks like a crown adorning and framing her perfectly formed features.

Gaeul.

#

You’re lost in a dream. A school full of students, their ages varying drastically and you do not recognize a single face. The teachers seem a lot more familiar, though they float through the room carelessly, gravity not applying to them. In fact, gravity only applies to you, as the rest of the students fly around the room with their chairs and desks.

A frame of an angel, her hands brushing your cheek, scorching hot, so she puts a wet towel on your face. That’s so nice of her, you must be sick. Sick or not, you cannot miss the day you go to the zoo with the floating class.

The zoo is filled with people, nothing but people. People that look at odd people. Those that have to stand on one leg, those that can’t talk properly, those who like weird things. You can hear your whole class laugh hysterically at all of them, so weird, so wrong, nothing better than to laugh at sickos and be glad that you’re not one of them.

“Uhm, hi.” A voice in the far background, damp, behind a shut door. “Care to explain why you have another girl in your bed?”

You feel like you have to explain yourself, but words are nothing more than concepts in your head, also the zoo is calling, you have to watch the lively corpses float through the water tanks. Luckily, someone speaks for you. The angel.

“She’s a friend and she is sick. That’s all there is to it, Yujin.”

"Oh, really?" The other voice is skeptical, eyebrows raised and she looks for a clever response. “I guess she got sick while laying in your bed? Gaeul, don’t lie to me, okay? Just be straightforward with me.”

“I—” the angel stutters and falls silent. You however found a new enclosure in this zoo which stretches in all directions. This one is rather empty and the enclosure is also no enclosure, just a mirror with a writing above it: ‘Sicko girls that like other girls’.

The reflection is you, of course, in all your—

“What am I going to do with you, hm?” The other voice, now a tall woman of incredible beauty, twirls a couple of golden strands of the angel and tugs them behind her ear with a weak—dishonest, you feel—smile. “The long hair suited you better. I really liked that.”

“I know, Yujin.”

The reflection is you, in all your fault and imperfection, far from perfection and any heavenly being. You are no angel, just a sicko girl that likes girls—and the whole class is laughing.

#

You open your eyes, but the aching, hot pain in your temple and a heavy, wet towel on top of it make actually seeing, realizing anything a pain in the ass. Just the outline of a small face looking down on you, very familiar, very pretty—oh, what a relief to have Gaeul be the first thing you see.

“Wh-where am I?” you ask past dry lips.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Gaeul turns around and quickly reaches for a bottle of water. “Here, drink this, your body needs a lot of water now. You’re in my—my friend's apartment.”

“Damn, then it must have been real fucking bad—”

You cover your mouth, realizing your loud curse in a foreign room, foreign bed, where are your manners, they might have foreign customs. Gaeul’s eyes fall shut when she begins to lightly chuckle. 

“Don’t worry, she’s not here right now,” Gaeul says. “You’re all good. B-but you can’t stay here forever. Just rest up and—you have somewhere to stay, right?”

You carefully remove the towel from your face, catching all the drops running down your forehead as you think about home, your home, finally warm because you threw away your dignity. You’d love to not go there, tear up the contract for rent and run away to something new—into independence.

“Yeah, yup, I—I have a place, don’t worry. Sorry for all the trouble, fuck, I don’t even remember what—I did it again.”

Now Gaeul is holding her stomach, laughing, hitting the blanket that covers your legs and you join her. Though you might sit upright, you feel like falling over, the dizziness, Gaeul’s laugh, they make you feel like you’re still in that dream with the angel. The angel, so ethereal, but made fragile by this voice. A woman.

Suddenly, yours and Gaeul’s face are almost touching, her arms are on your shoulders, yours on her side, her petite frame is in your palm. The laughs have faded, smiles remain but you feel your heart racing. The smile fades and you’re tense. Gaeul is right there and she is so, so pretty.

“You sure you’re alright?” Gaeul asks as she sees your blush. You blush even more and avert your eyes.

“Y-yeah, thank you. You helped a lot. But—

“—are you okay too, Gaeul?”

That’s a smile full of uncertainty, a hint of anger, a glow of hurt. Gaeul’s eyes sparkle and you’d love to blow some life into them. Even better, all the love you have for her, you want to pour it into her and give her power. But no, you have no idea nor any plan to do such a thing. So it’s Gaeul who helps you out of the bed and hands you one of her sweatshirts that isn’t drenched in sweat.

“You are the one with a fever, I’m as healthy as ever!” Gaeul is so bright and her smile shines like a star. In a different universe, she is already a celebrity with a perfect red carpet smile. Fake.

“I didn’t mean that.” In a surge of confidence and worry, you reach for Gaeul’s hand and everything's in slow motion. “I-I’m scared that you’re not happy, that something isn’t right, that—Gaeul, I heard you talk to your friend and she seemed—”

“Look, I—she isn’t my friend.”

Gaeul looks at you. 

“She is my girlfriend.”

Gaeul still looks at you. Now it’s your turn to fake a smile and get it over with.

...

(A/N2: Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more chapters, though it will take time until the next release)

[queenie-ofthe-void]

The Babysitter Chronicles - Mayfield pt 2

Steve POV 5+1 (immediately follows s2) || wc: 1.9k || cws: check tags || full fic ao3

Henderson || Mayfield pt 1 / Mayfield pt 2 || Sinclair || Wheeler || Byers || +1 Hopper

Steve’s standing in the middle of the driveway, just out of sight of the windows, when the deep rumble of a car engine rips down the street. Nausea floods his throat and he swallows against the taste of bile on the back of his tongue. The blue Camaro flies up the driveway, and Steve wills every muscle in his legs to stand his ground when it parks just before bumping against his knees.

Max sits frozen in the passenger seat, staring at Steve like she’s seen a ghost. Before he can move toward her side of the car, Billy’s slamming the door behind him, barreling towards Steve with a familiar manic grin on his face. Yet even with a smile as big and bright as that, there’s no light in Billy Hargrove’s eyes. Just a blank emptiness with a tint of rage.

“Well if it isn’t Steve goddamn Harrington!” Billy cackles, crowding in so close that Steve can feel the wet heat from his breath. He reeks of stale cigarettes like the inside of the house, a smell that’s most likely permanently soaked into his denim jacket. “Don’t look so much like a King anymore.”

This is the version of Billy that Steve can deal with. All loud, over the top showmanship, acting like the biggest asshole in the room. This is the version of Billy that Steve has coped with at school everyday since September, and in a way it’s a reflection of who he used to be. Except when Steve’s layers of bullshit were peeled away, he found someone who actually cares, willing to die to save the people around him. 

When everyone saw the core of Billy Hargrove exposed in the Byers’ house, all that was left was a monster. Cold, hollow, and deadly, uncaring in a way Steve’s only seen in his father when he had a full bottle of scotch.

Steve knows he has a long way to distance himself from the King Steve moniker, but he knows for a fact he’s not Billy Hargrove, and certainly not his father. One step at a time is another step away from turning into a monster.

He clears his throat. “I never was,” Steve replies. Even if everyone else saw him as King Steve, he sure as shit never did. Never wants to be again.

Billy smirks, but before he can respond, they hear a second car door slam closed. In his periphery, Steve can see Max storm towards them. She shouts, and the boy in front of Steve flinches at the snap in her voice. “I told you to leave him alone.”

He sneers at Steve before reluctantly taking a step backwards, and Steve feels like he can breathe again. Max stands next to him, so close that her arm brushes his elbow. Tension radiates from her like a pulled rubber band even though her command was sturdy and strong. It’s all just another sick reminder of how much these kids have to deal with on top of interdimensional monsters.

“Aww, come on Maxine,” Billy jeers, “King Steve and I were just having a friendly chat, man to man. Something you wouldn’t understand.”

“You aren’t friends,” she snaps back.

It’s just then Steve hears the front screen door close, Mrs. Hargrove’s voice calling out, “alright I’ve got my home and work contact info filled out, along with my work address and–” but Steve watches her pause and take in the sight before her. She moves closer and Billy’s entire demeanor changes. He moves his hands behind his back, legs spread in a military stance, as he softens the muscles in his face almost like he’s hiding himself. Another thing Steve wishes they didn’t have in common.

“What’s going on, Susan?” Billy asks, his voice laced with false sweetness. He gestures at Steve, and he feels all three sets of eyes on him at once. Mrs. Hargrove approaches slowly, standing at the point of Billy and Steve’s fucked up triangle, with Max still plastered to his side. Mrs. Hargrove hands Steve the note paper and Billy tracks it as Steve shoves it in his back pocket.

“Well,” Mrs. Hargrove draws the word out, assessing the situation, “Steve here came by asking to be Max’s new babysitter.”

“What?” Max and Billy ask simultaneously, turning towards her. Max’s eyes are bright with guarded hope, while Billy appears slightly panicked under his casual charade.

“That’s not possible,” Billy says. “I’m Max’s babysitter, Susan. That’s the way my dad wants it, and we don’t need some strange, older boy like Steve hanging around Maxine.” The implication leaves Steve disgusted, choking back the rising bile in his throat. Sharp points of pain bloom across his wrist as Max’s nails dig into him in a poorly concealed panic.

“Billy, if Steve starts watching Max before and after school, then you’ll have less to worry about.”

“No. No, Susan, if my dad wants me to watch Max, then that’s what’s going to happen.” Billy’s facade is starting to crack around the edges, and as he takes a step, the two girls step back, Max pulling Steve along with her. The careful choreography is keeping Steve on his toes. “How does dear old dad feel about this idea?”

He smiles wide again, the cat who got the canary. Steve sees the fight leave Mrs. Hargrove’s eyes as she glances towards the cold cement driveway, shoulders hiked up to her ears in defeat. Max’s grip on his wrist tightens again. He’s assuming he’ll find little bruises there in the morning. 

He’ll bear whatever bruises he needs to for these kids. Confronting Billy, taking the hits, it’s all worth it if he can spend every day knowing exactly where all of his kids are. And that sure as hell includes Max.

“What do you want, Billy?” Steve asks.

He scoffs, “what do I want?”

“Yeah,” Steve bitches back, “that’s what I said. Maybe my hits landed harder than I thought, because apparently you’re deaf now.” At school, this is the part where the people crowding him would laugh, back him up. Here in the Hargrove’s driveway, no one’s laughing. “I asked you, what do you want?”

He’s surprised when Billy snaps his mouth shut, seeming to take the offer seriously. After a few moments, he smirks again. “Alright, Harrington. You win. You can take little Maxine here off my hands. But I want your spot on the team, and I want to be captain.”

“Done.” Steve says.

Steve hasn’t been to school yet to tell the coach he’s dropping out. Once he turns in his doctor’s note, the coach won’t have anything to argue against. But he figures Billy doesn’t need to know that. It seems Mrs. Hargrove’s caught the same cue, as she side eye’s Steve but doesn’t say anything.

Billy’s staring at him, lips parted in shock. Leaving him speechless feels like a minor accomplishment. “And I still want my allowance, same as if I’m still watching her.”

“Done.” Mrs. Hargrove and Steve reply in unison. Billy looks back and forth between Max and Steve, a complicated expression passes behind his eyes Steve can’t quite place, something close to remorse. It’s gone before Steve can puzzle it out, replaced with his usual facade. 

“Max, get your shit out of my back seat.” He’s still smiling, but his voice is a cold void. She runs back to the car, ripping the passenger front and back door open. As she does, Billy storms off into the house and Mrs. Hargrove timidly watches him go, then turns back to Steve.

She crouches down to look her daughter in the eye, and Steve’s struck with how similar they appear with the same burning red hair, orange freckles. Max seems to soften slightly under her mother’s gaze, but she’s still holding herself strong and straight like Billy’s out here next to her. It sets Steve’s teeth on edge. He remembers learning at a similar age that his mom is just a person, a woman capable of mistakes instead of an all powerful Mom all kids think they have as a parent. He also thinks maybe kids should get to believe that longer than him and Max got to.

They work out the details, making sure Max has enough clothes in her backpack, along with her skateboard and homework, so she can stay the night at Steve’s. He’ll drop her at school in the morning, along with Henderson, and that’s two more kids he knows are safe.

The car ride to his place is quiet, radio volume on low. Max is fidgeting with the strap on the backpack on her lap, and Steve doesn’t know whether he should poke and prod, or let her come to him. In the end, he doesn’t have to wait long.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

He hums. “Done what?”

“Given up basketball, being captain, just to– I don’t know. Be a babysitter. Especially my babysitter. It’s not like I need one.”

Warmth fills him up at the familiarity her words strike in him. He’ll prove to her how wrong she is eventually. How she’s a kid worth babysitting.

“Max, I already gave up the spot. Just haven’t told the coach yet.”

He doesn’t glance over to her when she turns, eyes focused on the road. Still, he can hear the smile in her voice, “but Billy–”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, “he would’ve gotten it anyway.

She scoffs, delighted and surprised.

“Is this something you’re ok with?” He asks, only kind of afraid of the answer. “I should’ve asked you sooner, if you’re ok with me–”

“Totally,” she cuts him off, still smiling.

“And the whole, King Steve thing, doesn’t bother you?” He thinks about everything Dustin’s made passing comments about. How Mike throws it in his face at every opportunity and how he knows it’s all Jonathan and Nancy seem to see in him. How obsessed Billy was with him for so long, and that Max spends more time with all of them than anyone. When it comes right down to it, she barely knows Steve, yet is probably equipped with enough stories to make her own guesses. 

They ride the rest of the way in silence, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come until they’re parked in his empty driveway. When he finally turns to face her, Max’s eyes are earnest and clear, illuminated by the conviction on her brow.

“‘King Steve’ sounds like a stupid nickname,” she snarks. There’s fondness in her tone, and he smiles back at her. “I think I’ll just call you Steve until I can think of something better.”

A weight so heavy is lifted from his shoulders in that moment that he almost cries from the relief. He tips his head back to keep the overwhelming emotions contained just a little bit longer, and he laughs wetly to release some of the uncontained joy. 

“Is a nickname like Random Girl any better?”

She giggles, small and easy. “We’ll work on it.” And as she grabs her stuff from the back and makes her way towards the front door, Steve realizes they’ve got all the time in the world to work on it. Together.

~~~

I'm really enjoying this series, and this section in particular! I'm such a sucker for Steve and Max. <3 <3