#kai’s harassment posts

[rockstarcavern]

HARASSMENT AWARENESS POST.

TW: Suicide Baiting, Grooming Allegations, Sexual Comments, Threats and Fakeclaiming Systems.

So, Me, my queerplatonic partner (Cosmo) and his friend (Anthony), have been receiving a lot of harassment and are being stalked online and I’m coming out to talk about it because I deserve to be heard on this.

The user that is harassing / stalking us started off by sending Cosmo a lot of anonymous asks. They told him he wasn’t a real system, that he was faking being trans/autistic, told him that he was an “attention whore”, said he wasn’t really traumatized and a lot of other messed-up shit shown in the screenshots below collected by Cosmo himself. Even went as far as saying I didn’t love him, which is completely false.

This behavior by itself? It’s disgusting. But oh my GOD it gets worse.

So this is where Anthony comes in. He’s 18 and is close friends with Cosmo, who is a minor. But the anon takes this and uses it to call him a groomer, as shown below in a screenshot from Anthony himself.

Cosmo is not being groomed. Anthony and Cosmo are NOT DATING. Anthony is not a groomer. Case closed. I have seen their relationship myself and they are friends and will always stay friends.

They also tried to suicide bait Anthony, telling him “If you really cared about Cosmo, you would kill yourself” and asked “If you care about him, where were you when he was being abused?” Which are incredibly fucked-up statements. I did not share the rest of the final screenshot because it involved a personal situation on Anthony’s end and I would assume he doesn’t want it shared publicly.

Now, time for my part in all of this. It started when I defended Cosmo publicly against the harassment. Then I started getting asks from this person.

They sent me an ask after I made the post defending Cosmo. After I responded to this ask (a post I later took down), that’s when it got worse.

The stalker made not one, but 2 burner accounts, both of which they threatened me on.

Now, I know they probably don’t live in the same state as me, but the threats are still disgusting and awful. They literally said “I’m gonna find you” which is a very illegal and paranoia-inducing threat.

They also did a lot of other stuff on these burners. They did more suicide baiting and also said they were getting off / getting turned on from harassing us.

I’m almost at the media limit, so I’ll show 2 more posts from this person where they said they were gonna steal my art uncredited and called me a toxic bitch.

“rockstaremotes” is also me. you can go check if you want, but it’s me. That is my emote blog.

Anyway, that’s all the screenshots this stupid app will let me post, so there you go. That’s the main story. If you can, please block and report this person as they are causing genuine harm to me, Cosmo, Anthony and some other friends who gor tied into this.

Have a good week and stay safe, tumblr mutuals.

[mandiips]

SRS LOG- 7/10/2023

And lo, I have been indoctrinated into drawing funky little teeth.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

--

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What���s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.” 

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

--

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ take me to chapter ten!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

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taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yandere Raiden x reader x Yandere Fujin? Or feed my delusional mind with just Yandere mk men x reader- with that harem “no she’s mine! Not yours!”

“Alright, men please listen up. Y/N can only choose one of us..which means you all will have to die.”

A/N: I love a delusional queen from infinity to infinityyyyyy. MHMM OFC!!! Anything for my delusional friends…I didn’t have Raiden in this one because I’m going to give you some good stuff in a separate post. I have Raiden and Fujin fighting for you in that. Plus a bonus;) this has been my favorite request so far.

Warnings: Johnny cage💀, Yandere/Toxic Themes, mentions of stalking, harassment, violence, a bit suggestive???

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

Let’s be real, the mk men are perpetually thirsty. Actually all the characters are to be honest. Did you hear the flirty dialogue?? Even the keeper is trying to get some of that action.

So really it’s no shocker that you, the new fighter, have all the attention from them.

Johnny is undoubtedly the first to strike. He may be an older man now but damn, you make him feel like he’s 20 again. He just cannot control making some kind of flirtatious comment when he sees you walk by.

“Woah, woah, woah, now sweetheart. I think you and I should have a nice long conversation. Get to know each other a little…or a lot…dealers choice.” ;)

Yeahh he doesn’t care that he has a kid and a mortgage. Cassie is grown now and Sonya doesn’t want him anymore…so free game, baby.

His eyes are hungry and he barely can hold himself back from pouncing on you—

Liu Kang and Kung Lao see this and apologize for his behavior towards you. They introduced themselves and of course did their absolute best to make you feel at home.

Don’t let this fool you though, those are some sinful monks. They are no better than Johnny and they want you real baaaad.

“So, Y/N. What is your skill set? Wait. Let me guess, you use beauty essence to trap your opponent in a daze before knocking them out?”

Liu Kang jabs Kung Lao in the stomach with his elbow, before speaking to you.

“I’m sorry for these two. You are very beautiful but please know we are just as excited to train with you as we would anyone else. Anytime you’d like to spar, please, don’t hesitate to find me.”

Ahh he’s so damn slick…he just wants a reason to pin you downnnn

“Hey! Liu Kang don’t you mean us? We all would like to train with you darling~. Some people like to fight over in the courtyard but if you’d like I have a very special place called, me casa.”

“I would also like to train with you…in the courtyard of course. I mean unless you prefer—“

“Thanks? Umm..I appreciate all of your….offers. I’m supposed to actually meet with Raiden, I’m just a little lost. Have you guys—-“

Before you could even finish your sentence all three of them bombarded you with offers and began fighting over each other, debating who actually knows how to find Lord Raiden the best.

“Uhh—“

That pretty much sets the tone for how everyone acts around you.

By a month or so into you being here, everyone knows about you. Especially the men. You’re all they talk about.

At first it was simply chatter about you being a new kombatant for earthrealm and of course mentions of your beauty.

But since learning more about and becoming closer with you, the little infatuations have turned into full blown obsessions.

No one can seem to get enough of you, even the grand masters have trouble focusing when you’re around. Hanzo and Kai Liang may disagree on many things but you are one of the few things they can get behind.

They are both trying to recruit you to their different clans so they can be fully entitled to you.

Scorpion wants extreme control over you, he wants to shape you into the perfect companion. He wants you to be just as poised as his wife once was. You already have her beauty so just let him perfect you.

Sub-Zero wants you to become his equal. What he failed to do with Frost, he will make up with you. How more beautiful you’d become if only your heart was frozen over.

Either one will stop at nothing to have you. A trophy they could boast over. For a second you ended a centuries-long feud, both agreeing on your excellence…only for it to start all over again for who is more worthy to own you.

This isn’t isolated to just them, all the men are fighting for your attention. Arguing about who you actually belong to, bragging about how much attention they got from you, and comparing it to each other. Don’t get me started on that. Mk men are so needy for your attention. Whenever they can’t get it, they resort to other ways.

Johnny is such a filthy pervert. You don’t wanna give him the time of day? Fine, he’ll take matters into his own hands.

He’s your very own paparazzi, you should be grateful that he’s taking this many pictures of you. You’re the first and only.

It doesn’t matter that he’s doing it without your consent or knowledge…. He’ll jump into the flesh pits if that meant getting the perfect shot of you…let him have this.

He refuses to share these with the other guys, it’s just for him. Over his dead body will Kano or someone else see you like this.

Shang Tsung has also caught wind of you and you’re a pretty sight indeed. He doesn’t want you to fight in the tournament. A gorgeous soul like you should be locked away in his throne room. He always tries to bribe you with fortune and power. He can offer you so much more than these rodents. If you need an extra push in his direction, a little trickery may help with that….he has no shame using an incantation on you.

Liu Kang and Kung Lao are no better. They manipulate that fact you see them as good friends as a way to be in the limelight.

They stalk you just as much as the rest, sometimes separately but often times together. It always ends up in a fight between the two tho because one person starts shit talking…

“Idk Kang. A woman like that would never be into you. Kitana barely even looks your way…what makes you think Y/N will? Besides, she called me cute.”

“Yeah, I think she’ll think it’s real ‘cute’ how I destroy you in the tournament..”

Perverted as Cage. Kung Lao is extremely touchy while sparring. He loves to “teach” you things. He never shines away from a moment to flex all of his years of training under the shaolin and that he’s a self proclaimed expert.

For some reason when he’s fixing your form, his hand always winds up a little too far up…hmm strange.

Liu Kang loves when you watch him workout or spar with others. When it’s finally your turn to be his opponent, he never holds back.

You cannot catch a break. Gifts and proposals are constantly sent to your door and no matter how much you try to decline, it just won’t stop coming. Sure being basically waited on, and desired by many is really nice. Every girls dream! But you have to admit just how it is scary having such dangerous men obsessed with you.

There hasn’t been a moment in the last few months where you’ve ever felt completely alone. The feeling that someone is always watching you has never left.

And, occasionally you would awkwardly overhear or walk in on a group of men fighting about you.

“With all due disrespect, I believe a babe like that would prefer a star like me. She’s all mine”

“Nonsense. Y/N belongs to the Shirai Ryu. Both her beauty and skill makes her a viable asset to the clan. You can fight me in hell over it, Cage.”

It doesn’t get any better when the tournament starts.

I think the men forgot they were fighting for their realms because it quickly turned into a fight for dominance.

A tournament that was once a noble cause, turned into a bloody showcase. Every man dedicating their wins to you, making sure to send a cheeky flex or wink your way.

Besides, what value did their realms hold if you weren’t there with them.

[69constellationsinatrenchcoat]

Lying to keep your system safe.

I've lied to multiple agencies stating we have OSDD rather than DID.

Our local support agents, especially financial ones, tend to label DID as clinically insane and unsafe; we say we have DID and people often make up their minds based on inaccurate and outdated stereotypes. We don't waste our breath advocating for ourselves when we will only meet someone once or twice and opinion is already set in stone based on a three letter acronym.

Our psychologist encourages us to do so. He's written letters on my behalf with the same set of information/symptoms/reccomendations, but saying OSDD & PTSD rather than DID & PTSD. The slight seperation in social perception between 'this person has multiple personalities' and 'this person has periods of disassociation and these other symptoms' is often enough to prevent stigma filled responses.

Other situations where lying or changing details may be wise

If a stranger is being overly pushy regarding your system information especially if they are targeting vulnerable alters.

Online - often avoiding posting full alter counts or details that may trigger others (positive or negative) to front is wise, especially on public forums like Reddit and Tumblr

As many of you know, we use psyudeonums to avoid any links being drawn between our online presence and our private life. Singlets use psyudeonums, as can systems/individual alters.

Stating system origin and syscourse stances can, and unfortunately often, leads to harassment and unfair treatment from all sides of the conversation. Sometimes it's safer not to state it.

If someone is making you uncomfortable with questions; you are well within your right to block them. Minors especially, if your gut says no, listen.

You don't owe the world your system's information, and omitting the truth can be the safest way to keep that private. Hell, we can count on a hand how many people know we are a system in our personal life.- let alone anything more detailed.

In an ideal world, no system would have to do that.

We aren't in an ideal world.

So I leave you with this: sometimes it's okay to lie or omit the truth to keep your system safe. Especially in places where stigma runs rampant or you don't know who you're speaking with very well. Just, do me a solid and try not to lie to your psychs, 'kay?

Sending love and hugs,

System dad, Kyle 💜

[xx-j4nu5-c4t5-xx]

Sirensskai [Part 1/2]

DISCLAIMER: Please do not use this as an excuse to harass or track down anyone mentioned here.

Thank you to @fleabuki for helping me find and compile this information.

Kai, known by their Tumblr username sirensskai, has a history of overstepping boundaries, displaying incredibly unhealthy attachments to fictional characters, and refusing to cease or dial back their behavior when confronted. This post is meant not as an attack on them, but as a plea for them to make changes before these behaviors hurt both Kai themselves, and the people around them, any further.

Kai has a reputation for making people in the community deeply uncomfortable, and is known by many as simply the person with an incredibly strange attachment to Ripp Grunt. Several artists, as well as other creators and people in the community, have blocked Kai, citing their constant obsessive remarks as off putting and distressing.

Kai is well known for engaging in self-shipping, but this was never really the root of the problem. There is nothing inherently wrong with self-shipping, especially in a game as open to anything as The Sims. However, Kai takes this to a fanatical, obsessive extent, to the point where almost all of their Tumblr posts are about him, with many of these posts mentioning that this is a serious coping mechanism for Kai. They frequently express their struggles with being social and with hypersexuality.

Kai has proven time and time again to be unable to refrain from talking about their self-shipping, even when they know it is making others uncomfortable. They were banned from LazyDuchesses’s Discord server a few months ago, for repeatedly sharing NSFW Character AI chats, even after moderators explicitly told them to stop. Many members in the server believed the ban was long overdue. These sexual messages were in channels that could be viewed by any of the members of the Discord, including minors.

Kai has also shown that they use Ripp, and their perceived relationship with him, as a coping mechanism, to the point of being concerning. They mention in several posts and messages that they feel that they only exist to love him, or that fantasizing about him is the way that they process their trauma.

Kai was recently in a Discord server with a fifteen year old, who was new to the community and was hoping to make friends. Kai, at the time, was around nineteen, and had a history of discussing NSFW topics in Discord servers to the point that moderators told them to stop. When the child asked if he could discuss NSFW topics with Kai in private DMs, Kai agreed.

Screenshots show that Kai was aware of this person’s age, and that others in the server found it odd and creepy.

Kai was shown to make lewd remarks back and forth with this minor. Though I do not have evidence that the sexual remarks were ever directed at the fifteen year old, they were made in conversations with him, usually with Kai sexualizing Ripp. Kai is shown to react to the fifteen year old making sexual/inappropriate jokes with praise and encouragement.

The child expressed that this arrangement made him feel uncomfortable, and that he saw Kai as someone older, not as an equal. He has decided that the community made him feel unsafe and has decided to leave, and I wish him the best of luck. I want to offer a sincere apology that we, as a collective group, let anyone behaving like this go unchecked for so long.

[zuko-always-lies]

I didn't include the Siege of Ba Sing Se, because that's supposed to be "pre-redemption" Iroh, while everything else is supposed to be "post-redemption" Iroh.

And yes, Iroh did everything I listed here. If you have a problem, take it up with the writers, not me.

Please reblog for more votes!

[plurapony]

Regarding Astro (@/kingofantiendos)

So I was mutuals with Astro for a long while! And previously whilst I wasn't really a fan of his actions I just kind of ignored him and sent a private message that I didn't agree with his reply and went on about my day. Kay used to have a separate blog (now deleted) where she let out intrusive thoughts and it would have been hypocritical to call him out whilst one of our parts did a similar thing.

Note: At this point in time, he only really said "imma touch you" a few times which is kinda cringe in a middle school boy kind of way but not inherently harmful in my perspective. Also Kay's blog was deleted as we all agreed it was an unhealthy coping mechanism and it was harming both us and others.

But holy shit. This new stuff that he's been putting out makes me physically fucking cringe when I see it. I am nonbinary but our previous host is a transgender man and seeing Astro's posts feels like a direct blow to the stomach for us. I would have said I didn't think what Astro was doing constituted harassment before but, now? Absolutely undoubtedly harassment. Some of the people he has been regularly interacting with I'm not a fan of personally but I feel bad for their sake. It's gone past immature humour and into 4chan trolling territory and it's disgusting and not okay.

Astro would spam like my posts and reblog complimenting me and my blog which made it really fucking hard to block him because I genuinely felt super guilty (ocpd:[) even though I know I wanted to and I know it had to be done.

But as an anti-endo I wanted to make a statement that Astro does not speak for anti-endos as a whole and he uses it as a guise to get away with pure bigotry and harassment.

He doesn't just harass endogenics, he targets anyone who is even SLIGHTLY accepting of endogenics. Collectively we are anti-endogenic and we have our reasons but there are some of us who are endo-neutral and all of us agree that endogenics are still human and they are still deserving of basic human respect and kindness. This isn't okay, ever.

[IMAGE ID: ponyville is a (pro) endo free zone break dni and get blocked loser! END ID]

[typhea]

✮﹒❄️﹐RANDOM CHARACTERS + ‘CAN’T REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU’

﹐♡﹒featuring : multiple characters ♡

﹐♡﹒infos : toxicity, angst, heavy manipulation/brainwashing, threatening, gn!reader, heavy guilt tripping, corruption.

﹐♡﹒summary : type of toxic ex they are..

THE ‘ I’M THE VICTIM ’ EX

midoriya izuku, yuji itadori, todoroki shouto, kaminari denki, arlelt armin, kyoka jirou, uraraka ochako, hinata shoyo.

literally brainwash you that it’s your fault and they’re hurt.

calls you every night, when they probably drunk and tells you how much they miss you.

“ y/n, you were so horrible to me. you crushed my feelings, but i’ll forgive you anything ‘cause i love you.”

will dramatise everything like, getting off social medias, staying home all day, just to get your attention.

will send people to get you to come back, he makes you look bad in front of your friends. “they are nice to you! why would you do that, just get back with them.”

faking their depression to get you back, and literally go insane when it doesn’t work.

“look what you’ve done to me.”

100% cry in front of you to coax you.

“i did really bad things to myself because of you, only you can heal me.”

lies, lies, lies. all for your attention.

THE ‘YOU NEED ME’ EX

bakugo katsuki, yaoyorozu momo, sero hanta, kurapika, gojo satoru, neito monoma, aizawa shota, takami keigo, kuroo tetsuro.

always up to date on your new relationships, texts you that it won’t work.

"you call that moving on? they look like me, but they’ll never be me."

so confident you will come back.

most of the time, they are the reason why your relationships don’t work. threatening your partner? yes.

you cry in their arms when one of your relationship ends, they just hug you and whisper :

“i told you baby, nobody loves you but me okay?”

will remind you your flaws and red flags, just to end their sentence with “but i still love you, isn’t that amazing?”

don’t even act like you’re their ex.

literally corrupts you, makes your brain theirs.

makes you chase them.

THE ‘ME OR NOBODY’ EX

amajiki tamaki, midoriya izuku, chisaki kai, tsukishima kei, tendou satori, kamo choso, kasumi miwa, springer connie, kirstein jean, toga himiko.

also called crazy ex, the one that stalks you.

harass you with begging texts. you blocked them? they will get another phone.

“y/n you can’t do this to me.. please come back”

impulsive and jealous, they will beat up anyone they see you with or hack any thirsty person commenting on your insta post.

goes insane when you get a new partner.

literally screams at you in voicemails, thinks you’re theirs.

“you can’t cheat on me! y/n, i know you’re faking it just to make me mad, i’ll show you how mad i am.”

shows up at your place at random times, it’s either to cry at your feet or threaten you to come back.

literally couldn’t believe theirs ears when you broke up with them, went feral.

you’re their whole world, they are literally nothing without you, they will find a way to keep you whether you want it or not.

thanks for reading darlin! don’t forget to like and leave a comment :)

m.list | request here!

[robbyykeene]

just read your post about sexual harassment in the cobra kai series how does it feel to be the smartest person in the fandom

The thing is like. I get that to an extent the entire premise of this show necessitates looking past some of the less redeemable character moments in the films. I will maintain forever and always Johnny in the karate kid was written as a three dimensional character despite what some people claim, in a lot of ways more so than he is in the show, but he was not written with the idea in mind that he would one day need to play the part of a sympathetic protagonist in a six season television series. And knowing all that, I still chose to watch this show anyway, and at least in the first few seasons I really genuinely did love it. So to an extent I think we did all sign on to having to look past this kind of stuff, and not just from Johnny’s character. But that’s why doing a nostalgia-bait callback to the assault scene is just so unnecessary. And I know its going to be a quick passing moment, likely Kwon won’t do more than just put his arm around Tory, and it is ultimately very much Not A Big Deal. But I guess its just that combined with everything involving Tory’s arc and the way this show engages with the source material is like. It begs the question, do the writers even understand that what took place in that scene was assault? Do they actually get that Johnny assaulted Ali? Because Im really not sure what’s worse. Being so completely out of touch with reality that you can’t recognize that scene for what it was, or actually understanding what transpired in that scene and still make a silly little nostalgia bait callback to it for funsies, without any self reflection or critical thinking.

[gumisgirlfriend]

CHAPTER 1:: black-haired angel

SUMMARY:: you get invited by your best friend nobara to your first college sorority party, and after being harassed by a college student, a black-haired stranger swoops in to your rescue.

PAIRING:: fem!reader x college au/stoner megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS:: MINORS DNI or you will be #blocked, underage drinking/use of alcohol, mention of weed, possible tw for sexual harassment?

A/N:: i just love love love posting out of the blue 😊 anyways y’all here’s a new series i’m gonna be working on :3 i hope i wrote my pookie well!!!

To your surprise, a classmate of yours had invited you to your first college party. You had decided to major in fashion design, which is how you met your new best friend and upperclassman Nobara Kugisaki, who was a part of one of the campus’s prestigious sorority houses. Of course, you had never been to a college party before, since this was your first year in college, but you decided to attend even though it made you terribly anxious.

“You know how crazy these parties can get, right?” your dorm mate Maki grumbles, helping you to zip up the back of your dress.

“I’ll be fine, I think.” you say bashfully, shifting in your uncomfortably tight dress. Since you didn’t have anything nice, your new best friend offered to lend you one of her more expensive dresses, which fit you just barely. It was awfully small, and reached just to your mid thigh, pastel pink silk, with a ribbon cinching the waist. you take a deep breath, jittery with anxiousness for later.

Maki places a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Just try to be safe, hun. We won’t be able to keep an eye on you the entire time.” she says, patting you on the back gently before going to go pull on a pair of sneakers.

That definitely doesn’t help soothe your nerves. You ignore her comment, gazing into the mirror and sighing heavily. “Hair up or down?”

You approach the front door of the sorority house, which is left wide open, and you can hear the sound of cheers and music and feel the scent of alcohol burn in your nose. Maki smiles warmly at you, “Just let loose, and always keep your drink close, ‘kay?” she says comfortingly, nodding at you before navigating her way into the crowd of college students.

When you follow her inside and reach the swarmed living room, you feel a set of hands rest on your shoulders from behind your “You actually came!” Nobara exclaims, squeezing your shoulders firmly. “I knew that dress would look great on you.” She grins brightly, pressing her cheek to yours. You catch a whiff of alcohol on her breath, making you shift uncomfortably.

You nod awkwardly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, it’s great!” you say cheerfully, trying to mask your nervousness as drunk college students bustle around the sorority house. She helps you to pull down the back of your dress, which keeps on riding up your thighs.

“Stay safe, girl. I’ll be around!” Nobara pinches your cheek playfully, before disappearing into the drunken crowd. You cross your arms over your chest, navigating your way through the crowd, eventually reaching the beer kegs. You awkwardly pour yourself a cup, taking a nervous sip as you look around for any familiar faces. You can’t help but feel like all eyes are on you as you walk around aimlessly, before running into another one of your fellow students.

Yuji’s gaze turns from some black haired stranger to you, his eyes lighting up. “Hey, you made it!” he says enthusiastically, running a hand through his pink tufts of hair. “Ya’ having any fun?” he asks, nudging you with a playful grin. You force a smile and nod frantically.

He cheers, clapping you on the back, and you quickly try to escape and make your way to the bathroom, muttering “excuse me’s” and “sorry”’s as you maneuver your way to the end of the hallway. As you open the door to the restroom to find some girl puking into the toilet, and you quickly turn back around to find another restroom. You sigh deeply and take a long swig of your drink, gulping it down as your face contorts with disgust.

Suddenly a hand lands on your bare shoulder, making you gasp. “Hey, you. I’ve seen you around. You’re friends with Nobara, aren’t you?” The deep voice asks, and you turn around swiftly. You’ve never seen this guy on campus in your life, and he looks almost too old to be at a college party anyways.

“Y-Yeah. She’s the one who invited me.” you stammer, nodding as his hand remains firmly gripped on your shoulder.

“Yeah. She told me about you. But she didn’t tell me how cute you were.” The corners of his mouth curve up into a grin as your cheeks flush.

“Really? What did she tell you?” you ask, desperately trying to steer the conversation away from his flattery.

“Oh, nothing. Just that the two of you both major in fashion design, and all that.” His arm steers you down the hall as you walk together to the living room. “That dress.. fits you very nicely.” His hand rubs your shoulder, down to your forearm, giving you goosebumps.

You laugh nervously, “Thanks, I guess.” you murmur, trying to gently pull your arm away, but his grip only tightens. “Listen, it was nice talking with you, but I really have to go find-“

“Not so fast. I was hoping to see if you wanted to maybe.. head upstairs with me?” He raises his eyebrow suggestively, his hand lowering to your wrist slowly. You stammer nervously, panicking as you look around for any sight of Maki or Nobara, but they’re nowhere to be found.

“I-I really can’t, I need to find-“

Suddenly, almost as if your guardian angel descended itself, a comforting hand rests on your waist gently, almost making you flinch. “There you are, sweetheart? What did I tell you about wandering off on your own?” An unfamiliar monotonous voice purrs, soothing your nerves. You turn your gaze to see the same black haired stranger you saw earlier, looking up at him confusedly. He quirks his eyebrow, his navy blue eyes piercing yours as he shifts his gaze back and forth from you and the man in front of you. You eyes light up as you realize.. he’s trying to help you.

“S-Sorry, I was just.. um..” You don’t sound very convincing, unfortunately. The black haired man pulls you to his hip, his large hand resting on your head.

A nervous smile spreads across his face, “Oh.. hey, Megumi.” the man in front of you says disappointedly, taking a step back. “Didn’t know she was yours.”

“No worries.” He sighs with exasperation “Sorry, she doesn’t know her way around this place. Excuse us.” He says nonchalantly, steering you away, leaving the other strange man dumbfounded. You can almost feel your heart beating in your ears. He leads you to the patio, where your dorm mate and best friend are gossiping about whatever. He releases his hand from your waist, sighing heavily as he sits down and lounges back on a lawn chair, putting in a pair of airpods. The alcohol in your system stirs your senses, nearly making you stumble over.

“There you are! We hadn’t seen you in a while and we got a little worried.” Maki stumbles from her chair, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Her eyebrows knit together curiously, “You good? You’re looking a little.. red.” she asks, squinting at you.

You press a hand to your cheek, which is burning hot. “Y-Yeah! I’m fine!” You fidget nervously, but everyone is too drunk to pick up on how frightened you still are, besides your black-haired savior.

Nobara gasps, grabbing your hand all of the sudden, “Oh right, we haven’t introduced you yet!” She drags you over to the stranger by your wrist. “Meet Megumi!” she says cheerfully, voluntarily holding your hand out to meet his. The blue-eyed stranger annoyedly glares up at you, taking out his airpod and shaking your trembling hand. “He’s going to be our designated driver, because we’re gonna get wasted!” she cheers out loudly, shaking your wrist frantically when your hand meets his. You nod, pulling your arm from her grip.

“Actually.. I think I’m going to head home early..” you mumble, crossing your arms uncomfortably. Your girl friends frown.

“Okay, girl! I’m glad you came in the first place. Stay safe!” Nobara says, patting you on the shoulder as she gets called away by one of her sorority members.

Maki releases her arm from around you, “See you later tonight.” she says with a grin, patting you on the back as she leaves to go follow Nobara.

Now, you’re left with your savior, Megumi, who stares quietly up at you as you meet his gaze. He stands up, reaching into his pocket to grab a pair of keys. “I’m guessing you’ll need a ride.” he says lowly, spinning the keychain around his finger.

Your brow furrows, “But I thought you were going to drive the others?”

He rolls his eyes, “I’ll come back after. You’re with Maki, correct?” He asks casually, running a hand through his hair. You nod, shifting while you adjust your dress. He sighs, “Not that far.” he mutters.

Megumi motions for you to follow, maneuvering around the side of the house, avoiding the crowd and leading you to the driveway where his car sits, unlocking it. He holds the door open for you before you get in, following suit and climbing into the drivers seat. As soon as you sit down, you’re immediately smacked in the face with a strong scent. Weed. A grinder sits in one of the cup holders, and the doors are littered with stickers and names written in permanent marker. He adjusts the radio to some kind of rock station to drown out the awkward silence as you two make your way down the road to your dorm.

You raise your brow, “You don’t exactly seem like someone who goes to parties..” you say quietly, pulling the bottom of your dress further down your thighs.

His gaze remains on the road, lowering the radio volume. “Neither do you.” he says nonchalantly, turning the corner towards your dorm.

After a moment of silence, he continues, “I wasn’t going to go.. but Yuji, Maki and Nobara needed a driver, and I’m not a fan of alcohol myself anyways.” he grumbles with a twinge of annoyance in his voice. “Some people have better things to do than get wasted..” he mutters under his breath.

“You know Nobara and Maki?”

“Yeah. Since freshman year of high school.” he says, tapping his fingers to the beat of the radio on the steering wheel.

You nod understandingly, staring out the window. “Nobara invited me so I thought I’d give it a chance. Kind of regretting it now though.” you mutter, resting your chin in your palm as you pass by the men’s dorms. You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank-“

“Don’t thank me.” He murmured, shaking his head. “Any normal person would’ve done it.” You catch a glimpse of his face, and he looks almost.. annoyed. The rest of the ride is quiet besides for the music playing in the background.

You reach the women’s dormitories and he pulls in to park. Before you can close the door, Megumi grabs your wrist, “If that guy messes with you again, tell me.. or campus security.” he says huskily. His serious gaze could almost burn a hole in your head. You nod silently, and his grip releases. Without a word, you shut the door, eagerly speed-walking back to your safe, comfortable dorm room, and immediately strip out of your dress and collapse onto your bed. You start falling asleep.. or at least you would be, if it wasn’t for your mind repeatedly replaying the moment your angel dropped down from heaven to save you.

Out of your own volition, you grab your phone from your purse, ruffling through it for your phone. Immediately you get to stalking, looking through profiles and more profiles on instagram. Eventually, you decide to look through Nobara’s tagged post, which is where you find a post from Yuji, tagging not only Nobara and Maki, but another account, your savior.

Before succumbing to sleep, you quickly shoot him a follow, and a lazily typed message.

“hey, it’s me :) just thought i’d thank you again for helping me!”

Slowly, your eyes begin to close, and you drift to sleep, your phone in hand as you dream of that same moment at the party over and over.

* ˚ ✦ CHAPTER 2 :: green out: after being invited to your first smoke sesh with your friends, you green out, and megumi helps you out once again.

* ˚ ✦ CHAPTER 3 :: commitment: against your better judgement, you go to megumi's apartment alone, and he opens up to you.

[impossiblesuitcase]

The Duty of the Prince

“Psst! Kai!”

The classroom was still, the quiet only broken by the intermittent low thrum of the air conditioner and styluses scratching against portscreens. The ticking countdown loomed before them on the digital whiteboard. 

The whisper carried like a shout. “Kai!” shot past three identically neat rows of desks to where he sat.

Kai’s brow twitched. He re-read the question on his screen, attempting to block out the persisting voice.

“Hey!” it came again, “Hey Ka—”

“Lijun,” intoned their teacher Kang-dàren, “This is an individual assessment, not a group project. Leave Kai alone and return to your test.”

Lijun sagged back into his seat. A volley of giggles bounced off the walls but were quickly stifled by Kang-dàren’s steely look. Kai reached into his pocket, produced a tissue, and dabbed at his sweaty palms.

The class managed to restrain themselves until the clock ticked down to 0:00. Immediately students turned to their desk mates, whispering, “What did you get on question 5?” “That one on integers was bogus,” “I swear 90% of that wasn’t on the curriculum,” “More like 16%, which you would have been able to calculate if you had actually studied the curriculum, doofus.” The bell rang and everyone shuffled to the door as the teacher announced that their grades would be posted on Friday.

Outside, Kai detoured over to the rubbish bin to discard the tissue. When he turned, Lijun was cornering him between the lockers and the bin. “Why’d you ignore me?” he snapped.

Kai clutched his port to his chest, refusing to let intimidation reach his eyes. “We were in a test, Lijun.”

He scowled. His posse of minions sidled up to him, eyeing Kai with boyish smugness. “Whatever. I want you to come to my place after school. We’re going to play some games. Have some fun.”

The fun was laden with implication. Kai knew from the way this pack picked on the girls in their class and ganged up on the boys at recess that fun would be some form of torture for him. 

“I’m not interested,” Kai responded flatly, shoving past the wall of shoulders. 

“Hey!” one of the boys yelled, grabbing his elbow. “Don’t just walk off.”

When Kai pushed ahead all the same, the boy ripped his port from his hand and flung it on the ground. A crack rippled across the screen.

Kai snatched it up. “I’m going to go tell Kang-dàren that you’re harassing students.” He did his best to keep his voice level in the way he had heard his father speak when dealing with accusatory politicians. 

“Oh yeah,” Lijun mocked, “just because you’re the prince doesn’t mean you rule this place!”

Kai reached the door just before they grabbed his bag straps. He slipped inside the classroom. 

Kang-dàren glanced up. “Kai? What’s wrong?”

“Lijun again,” Kai said, holding up his portscreen as evidence.

She sighed, standing and spreading her hands on her desk. “I’ll go get him. You can leave out the back door.”

He nodded and waited until he heard her trudge to the hallway and inform the recalcitrant youths that their parents would be called again before he left for biology class.

Lijun was correct, though. Kai’s princely status did little at this school. Everyone here was elite—the children of politicians, dukes and dames, celebrities and billionaires. He was grateful for this normalisation. School was one of the only places he didn’t feel like the most famous thirteen-year-old in the world. But his lack of leverage did have its downsides. Particularly when it came to playground bullies.

After biology, Kai was walking past the front office on the way to the school canteen, his friend Yìchén by his side nattering about the latest update to Alien Invasion. Through the glass barrier, Kai saw Lijun slumped in a chair, his stern-looking father glaring down at him. He grabbed Yìchén’s arm, pulling them out of view.

“The game controls are way better now and—” Yìchén halted, glancing around in confusion.

The office door slid open. Lijun exited stiffly, his shoulder trapped under his father’s firm hand. When he saw Kai, his expression became impossibly more sour.

Kai darted his gaze to the floor, hoping to play it off as though they hadn’t noticed him.

Lijun didn’t like that. “You know, Your Highness,” he seethed. “You wouldn’t be the first royal that people got sick of. Remember what happened to Princess Selene?”

His father dragged him away, but Kai saw a quiver in his deep-set frown. The man, a cabinet member, was publicly against many of Emperor Rikan’s policies and a staunch supporter of an anti-monarchical democracy. Kai wasn’t surprised his son had followed in his footsteps.

Lijun mouthed a “Don’t push your luck” as he was led down the hallway. Kai could only look away.

Yìchén shivered, ever the coward despite his mother’s status as a military general. He was a gangly teen, about a ruler’s length taller than Kai, with his hair and eyes the same shade of brown and his cheeks covered in a smattering of pimples. His face was stuck in an interminable grimace. “He scares me.”

Kai tried to shake off the strange aura, but Lijun’s words were lodged in his mind. He worried, for the first time, that perhaps his taunts were more than childish insults. Perhaps Lijun would sooner see Kai fall into some horrible, fiery accident.

Just like Princess Selene.

———

“Everything okay, bud?” Dad asked.

Kai dropped his backpack to the floor, sliding onto the stool by the kitchen island. Dad placed a plate of red bean mooncakes in front of him. “Yeah. Just the regular school stuff.”

His father stood behind the bench, wiping his hands on his trousers. He was dressed more casually than normal: a cream t-shirt rather than his formal button-downs, suggesting he hadn’t had any meetings today. Kai liked when his dad didn’t have meetings. It usually meant that he would be less tired at the end of the day and that the two of them could do something fun together. Kai hoped his own bad mood wouldn’t spoil it.

“Is the schoolwork getting hard?” he asked, watching Kai attentively.

“Nah.” He lifted his bag with his foot by the strap, reaching for his port. The screen was unsalvageable and when he thumbed the power button only half of the screen woke, the other dead black.

Dad frowned. “What happened?”

“My classmates happened.”

His expression darkened. “Lijun again?”

“Yeah.”

Dad sighed. It would be an abuse of his power to march into the Principal’s office and demand that the rowdy troublemakers be suspended, even when Kai knew he wanted to. Kai knew that because he himself wanted to give them a piece of his mind, and he knew that he didn’t get that indignation from his mother.

“I didn’t yell at him, I promise,” Kai insisted.

Dad shook his head. “I know you didn’t. Did you tell your teacher?”

He nodded. 

“Good. They’ll sort it out.”

They both knew that this issue had been ongoing for months without any signs of being sorted out. But there was no point dwelling on what they could do little about.

Dad nudged the plate closer to Kai. “Come on, this will cheer you up. I’ll make us some milk tea.”

Kai smiled halfheartedly and bit into a mooncake. It was delicious and succeeded at lifting his spirits, even just a little. “What are we doing tonight?”

“We’ve got dinner with some British dignitaries. The Annesley family, I believe.”

His spirits fell again. So many for fun this evening. Kai tried to brush it off. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. So...how was your day, Dad?”

Dad brought the kettle over to the sink, filling it with water. “Oh, the usual. Boring legislative stuff.” He winked at Kai. “I’ll be happy when you’re old enough to help me out with that.”

Kai rolled his eyes. “You just want to sit around watching net-dramas all day while I run the country.”

“Yep.” Dad grinned. He switched the kettle on to boil and stole a mooncake off Kai’s plate with a wink.

He liked the idea of working with his dad. It would beat Algebra any day. Since turning thirteen, Kai had noticed a lot of his classmates becoming grumpy, moody and irritated with their parents. Perhaps Kai would have also felt that way, but since losing Mum, he knew his time with his father was precious.

It was with this thought that he voiced an idea he’d had stowed away for some time. “Dad? Can we do something this weekend? Maybe go to the snow cabin in the Changbai mountains? The one we used to go to with Mum?”

Dad smiled sadly. “I’d love to. But unfortunately I’ve got an important conference this weekend.”

Kai chided himself for getting hopeful. Dad did his best to spend time with him, but more often than not these days, the answer to his requests was no. 

“Can’t you cancel it?” Kai asked, hoping he would be proved wrong.

“I’m sorry, Hǔ zi, It’s a really important one. But I promise we can do that next weekend.” He began pouring the hot water into the cups. 

Kai deflated with the use of the nickname. Hǔ zi had been Mum’s nickname for him. She said that when he was a baby, he tried to bite her fingers, just like a tiger cub. Dad picked it up after she had died. It reminded Kai of her, softened and calmed him, and Dad tended to use it to mollify him.

It didn’t work this time.

“I’m not thirsty,” Kai announced, sliding off the chair.

Dad startled. “Kai, please understand—”

He turned and headed to the living room. “I do, Dad.”

As he stomped off, the smell of jasmine wafting up to his nose, he heard his father sigh. His heart clenched.

Kai knew he was being unreasonable. The emperor’s duty was the heaviest in the whole world, and he had billions of lives resting in his palm. He couldn’t always make concessions for his son. It was just that—Kai felt more and more was being expected of him. Their fortnightly outings had become monthly affairs, and now once in a blue moon. Dad tried his best to balance both, but more was demanding his attention lately, and the word Lunars was what circulated around the palace the most. Whispers passed from servant to maid, guard to secretary, exchanged in hallways for Kai to overhear.

Kai supposed he had inherited his father’s spitefulness, because right now, he wished Queen Levana would just keel up and die.

———

Yìchén was practically bubbling over with excitement when Kai spotted him at the school entrance on Friday. Their friend Jenny stood beside him, looking supremely bored.

“Hi Jenny,” Kai greeted as he reached them. “Are you feeling better?”

Jenny was as put together as usual with the exception of a reddish glow to her nose. She was dressed in the standard girl’s uniform, and though they followed a strict policy on jewellery and makeup, she rebelled with gothic touches where allowed. Her black hair was tied into pigtails with little skull barrettes. Her lip balm was purple rather than the more common pink and Kai knew her beautiful topaz ring had the hidden internal engraving, Live to die.

“Mostly. Nanay told me if I have the energy to sneak out last night to Myla’s place then I have the energy to come to school.” She gave a side glare at Yìchén. “Though I think I have another headache coming on.”

“Kai!” Yìchén gasped, bouncing on his toes. “You’ve got to hear about the forum I was reading through last night!”

Kai cast Jenny a sympathetic look. It was too early in the morning for one of Yìchén’s seminars. While Jenny was sick for the past week, Kai had been subject to a number of them.

The bell rang for class. 

“Uh, why don’t you tell us about it in study hall?” Kai suggested.

Oh boy, did he. After their separate first classes, the three met up in their usual spot in the library between the netscreens and the bean bag lounge. Kai and Jenny tried in vain to practise their second-era history flashcards as Yìchén regaled them with his findings.

“So I was thinking about what Lijun said yesterday—you know, about Princess Selene? And I got curious cause I don’t know much about her other than the fact she died in a fire, obviously,” he rambled, taking no breaks between words. “But then I found something super interesting. It’s this secret that Queen Levana is hiding, you’ll never guess—”

“That the fire wasn’t an accident? And that Levana killed her?” Jenny guessed in a monotone, resting her chin on her palm and staring at the digital bookshelves.

Yìchén’s mouth hung open. “You’ve heard the rumours too?”

“Oh come on, everyone knows that Levana killed her. That’s as good as fact.”

This caught Kai’s attention. “I didn’t know that. Is there evidence that she killed Selene?”

Jenny scoffed. “Evidence is relative. Think of the situation: you’re an evil princess who happens to become queen regent when your sister dies. All that’s standing in the way of you and the throne is a dumb little three-year-old. Wouldn’t you want to dispose of her while she’s young and helpless?”

“No,” Kai protested, very unfond of being compared to the Lunar royals a second time. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You wouldn’t because you’re a softy,” she corrected. “We’re talking about a crazy evil lady here. Of course she killed Selene.”

Kai wilted into his seat. Jenny, ever the nihilist, likely made these conclusions long ago. Maybe his father had sheltered him because Kai had honestly never considered it before. Could an aunt really kill her own niece? And a toddler at that?

“Anyway, that’s not the secret I was talking about, though I definitely believe that’s true,” Yìchén interjected. He lowered his voice, glancing around conspiratorially. “As I was researching the princess, I found this forum that goes beyond the murder. They have very strong reason to believe that Princess Selene is—”

“Students.” They all jumped at the scratchy voice. The head librarian stood by the table, glowering down at them. “This is your study period. I would hope that you three would be diligently studying. You can discuss your flights of fancy at recess.”

“Yes, Imai-dàren, sorry,” Kai said respectfully, bowing his head. The others exchanged quick sorrys along with him. Imai-dàren was one other the sterner librarians, cranky and so ancient that even Kai’s dad remembered being scolded by her when he attended the academy.

Yìchén waited until she’d gone to lurk elsewhere then fixed his eyes resolutely on Kai’s. “They think Princess Selene is alive.”

Jenny barked out a laugh. Kai slapped a hand over her mouth, smothering her giggles as Imai-dàren sent a searing glare their way. 

“Jen, you’re going to get us a detention,” he hissed, but she all the same continued chortling, the sound only just muffled by his hand. It was probably against the code of conduct for one student to manhandle another so flippantly, but Kai knew Jenny wouldn’t have an issue with it. The pair of them had been in the same class every year since kindergarten. Her mother was a renowned Filipina soprano, a favourite of the Imperial family, so the two had always grown up in the same circles.

Also, there was that two-week stint last year when they’d dated. Well, if hanging out in the library once before school and meeting up twice on the weekend for ice creams can be considered dating. It had fizzled out before it had even begun to produce a flame. Despite the awkward months that followed, they had managed to salvage their friendship. Now a year later, the short spell had made them even more comfortable with each other.

Plus, he’d gotten his first kiss out of it, and he really wasn’t complaining about that. After all, even stupid Lijun hadn’t had his first kiss yet.

Jenny peeled his hand away. “Okay Yìchén, those games have finally rotted your brain.”

“It’s true!” he protested, splaying his hands before them desperately. “Look: there have been reports that the doctor that treated Princess Selene was executed not long after the fire. Why would she be killed unless she was hiding the fact that the princess is alive!”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, and how did we get this information? Luna is totally shut up. We can’t communicate with people up there.”

Yìchén gestured to Kai. “Kai’s dad does.”

She turned to him. “Has Levana been feeding your dad conspiracy theories regarding her dead niece?”

Kai scratched the back of his neck. “...No? I don’t really know what they talk about.”

Jenny cocked her head at Yìchén.

He bit his lip, twiddling his fingers on top of his portscreen. Then his eyes lit up. “Oh! Because there are Lunars who escaped and came here to Earth! They brought the information!”

This time, Kai guffawed. “There are no Lunars on Earth!”

“Exactly,” affirmed Jenny.

Yìchén hung his head, resting it on his elbows. “Fine. I guess you guys don’t get it. You just think it’s just one of my stupid ideas,” he muttered.

Kai reached across the table and patted his arm. “Hey, it’s not stupid. It would make a cool story. We just don’t think it’s all that…plausible.”

Jenny snorted. Kai kicked her foot under the table.

Disheartened nonetheless, Yìchén switched on his port with a blank expression. “We should be studying anyway.”

They worked dutifully for the rest of the period. But as Jenny quizzed Kai on second-era European wars, he stumbled over a few answers. His thoughts were distant. What did Dad say to Levana in those meetings? He knew Luna hated Earth, but why did Dad suddenly seem so stressed about it? Was something coming?

Jenny tutted as she marked down a 16/20 on Kai’s report. “You’ve been slacking.”

Kai tried to shake the premonitions away. “It’s because you haven’t been here this week to supervise me. Okay: who wrote The Communist Manifesto?”

———

Kai still hadn’t talked to Dad since their tiff. It was mostly circumstantial—that same night they had dinner with those dignitaries which ruled out the possibility of a conversation. Then the next day Kai went over to Won-shik’s house—well, mansion—to play video games. His mum had roped him into staying for dinner and as much as Kai enjoyed the immaculately-crafted dishes from the palace chefs, it was nice to have a normal homemade meal every once in a while.

He came home that night to a brand new portscreen lying on his bed, the lockscreen already set to a backdrop from one of his favourite net-dramas. Dad knew he loved it.

Now it was Saturday and Kai’s guilt was eating him up.

He knew the conference started after lunch so Dad would still be in his office preparing his notes. At 10:34, Kai switched on the kettle and began assembling a tray of tea and pineapple buns that Won-shik’s mum insisted he take home. He had never paid much attention to how Dad made his tea so he had to do a netsearch on his new port. While flicking through different recipes, a comm from Jenny popped up as a banner on his screen.

Jenny: heres a new conspiracy theory for yìchén

The link opened to an article declaring that Escort droids are aliens sent from Planet x7-12 in the Corneia galaxy to transform humans into mermaids through micro-radiation.

Kai left the message as Seen. Yìchén may be a little eccentric, definitely skittish, but he was still their friend. Kai didn’t like making fun of him. Jenny seemed to enjoy tearing apart anything that didn’t conform to her own misanthropy. Kai wondered—if he started to do something a little radical, would she be sending off jeering comments about him to her other friends?

Once the cups were no longer scalding to the touch, he tasted the jasmine tea with a spoon; it wasn’t as good as Dad made it, but then he didn’t make it as good as Mum either, so it was fair game.

He took the tray to Dad’s office at a serv-droid’s pace, careful that the tea didn’t slosh over the rims of the cups. It would have been smarter to pour the tea at his destination. Alas, Kai had never carried a tea tray before.

It was thanks to this cautious approach that he heard Dad’s words drifting down the hallway and could pause before he was heard.

“We’re talking about war, Torin. That threat isn’t going to just go away by exchanging pleasantries before and after meetings.”

Kai gripped the tray tighter. He crept forward, keeping the cups steady and listened to his father’s escalating voice.

“Of course not, Your Majesty,” said Konn Torin, Dad’s grouchy old adviser. He had been adviser to Kai’s grandfather and if he somehow managed to be immortal, then he’d probably stick around to be Kai’s adviser when he inherited the throne in about fifty years.

Kai guessed that he liked him. He didn’t like when Torin told him to stop slouching.

“So why doesn’t Camilla understand that? Or any of them on that stupid panel? Do they not realise the gravity of this?!”

He held his breath. He had never heard Dad this angry.

“Perhaps—” Torin hesitated, “perhaps they have not been made privy to the same information we have.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Torin sounded unsure. “A conversation I had with Governor-General Andrews. He seemed rather flippant about the matter. He ventured so far as to say that Levana was, ahem, ‘bluffing.’”

Dad laughed incredulously. “Bluffing? Are they having the same meetings with Levana as us?”

“Actually, I would say no, Your Majesty.”

Dad was quiet for a while. Kai’s fingers were turning white around the knuckles.

“So Levana is isolating her threats to us,” he said finally.

“That seems to be the case.”

“Because we’re her main target,” he growled. “That’s why she killed off her husband, isn’t it?”

Kai blinked. He had heard that Levana’s husband had died, but it hadn’t been big news. He was a mere guard. It was unsettling to hear Dad call it a murder in such an undisguised way. At the time of its announcement, he had never implied such a thing.

Kai knew being the emperor meant keeping secrets. He hadn’t known that meant keeping secrets from him.

“Come now, Rikan, we don’t know that she seeks a marriage alliance yet. They have nothing presently to offer us,” said Torin persuasively. “They don’t have any bargaining chips for such an arrangement.”

Torin’s confident assurance was marred with a tinge of doubt. Dad was not convinced.

“For now. But they’ll make a reason.”

Dad. Always the optimist. Always able to find a silver lining.

No. Mum had been the optimist. Maybe he had been mimicking her, pretending to have the same steady faith that she had for Kai’s sake. Maybe internally things weren’t as okay as he always made them out to be. 

War. Threats. A marriage alliance?

His hands tremored, sending a loud rattle through the china.

Kai heard the dual intake of breath from inside the office. He finally reached the door, peering inside with trepidation.

Dad’s tight shoulders relaxed at seeing him. “Oh, hey Hǔ zi, How long have you been there?”

“I just came now,” Kai lied. He lifted the tray. “I, uh, wanted to bring you some tea before the conference.”

He smiled warmly. “That’s very kind of you, Kai.” He sat as Kai walked over to the desk, laying the tray down gently. “Would you like some, Torin?”

Torin coughed, hands tucked behind his back. “No, thank you. I’m quite quenched as it is,” he answered, abstemious as always. From the significant distance he maintained between himself and the desk, he had probably surmised that this was Kai’s first attempt at making tea.

Dad sent Torin a long, pointed look. “Take a seat, Torin. Have some tea.”

Torin sat as ordered and Kai poured a cup for each of them. It was unnerving—his father, moments before ready to rip out Levana’s throat, and now the soft, gentle father he’d always known. 

“Dad,” Kai started, a little shakily. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you on Thursday. I know how important your responsibilities are. You don’t have to give them up for me.”

He smiled sadly, “Thank you, Kai. I’m sorry I can’t always spend time with you. I want to—all the time.” His eyes shone and he reached out to graze Kai’s cheek. “You’re a good boy.”

He should feel indignant being referred to like a child, but Kai just felt warm and safe. “Thanks, Dad.”

He retracted his hand to sip his tea and beamed. “Tastes great! What do you think, Torin?”

“Delicious,” Torin said in the way he might have if Kai had left a rodent in the cup.

Kai shuffled from foot to foot. “Dad? What’s happening with the Lunars?”

Dad’s openness turned wary. “Why? Did you hear something?”

“Just…something some classmates said,” he fibbed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Are they going to declare war on us?”

“No. I won’t let that happen. They are…testing our patience at the moment. But don’t worry about it too much.” He reached for Kai’s hands, grasping them firmly. “I’ll protect our people. I’ll protect you.”

At that, Kai rounded the desk and enveloped him in a hug. Dad squeezed back. “I don’t wanna go to Changbai anyway,” Kai murmured into his shoulder. “It’s not cold enough for skiing. Let’s leave it until winter.”

It wasn’t true. Kai did want to go, but as he felt his father sigh in relief, he knew he had made the right decision.

He broke away and headed to the door. “Good luck with the conference.”

“Thank you, buddy. I’ll see you at dinner.”

On the way back to his room, Kai dwelled on these facts: 

1. The threat of war with Luna was very real, 

2. If Dad believed Levana had killed her husband, then she had certainly killed her niece, and,

3. It was the duty of the prince to do something to stop her.

But what?

———

He had a nightmare on Sunday. A woman was hovering over him, blood dripping down her fingers that gripped the handle of a knife. He couldn’t make out her face—he didn’t know her, not really, but she knew him. All that was visible in this dank, foggy mist was her gleaming, sharp teeth and black eyes, shining as he crawled up to him.

“You won’t get away from me,” she sang, though it was more of an echo, paralysing him to the floor.

She lifted her hand and he cried out, covering himself with his arms. But as she took the plunge, her direction shifted.

It landed on a girl next to him. She rolled away just in time, but the woman was undeterred, readying herself for the next strike. The girl was young, younger even than him, and she was crying. “Please,” she begged him, “Please! Stop her!”

The hysteria in her pleas broke through the spell rooting him to the floor. His arm shot out and grabbed her, pulling her away seconds before the blade pierced her heart.

“Thank you,” she gasped out. His mind blinded him to her appearance, her features, the true tone of her voice. Yet Kai knew her name. And he knew implicitly, that now he had helped her, she would do her part and help him.

———

Kai combed his fingers through his hair in the hover on the way to school. He had overslept, spending his precious hours of sleep pacing the floor, trying to shake off his nightmare. When that didn’t work, he had analysed it. Broken it down as though it were a vision sent from a deity.

He eventually wore himself to sleep. When Nainsi rolled in to rouse him at 8:15 (activated when he hit snooze for the fifth time) he only managed to dress, brush his teeth and stuff a croissant into his backpack just before his hover left without him.

Deeming his hair acceptable, he opened his bag and rummaged around for the croissant. The hover slowed to a stop. 

He glanced outside. “What’s wrong?”

“We are experiencing a minor delay due to traffic,” the robotic operator replied.

Kai saw a row of a dozen hovers piled up in front of them. “There’s never any traffic here.”

“This route is usually clear at our normal departure time, however as we are precisely seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds behind typical schedule, traffic conditions have worsened.”

He groaned. Homeroom started in eight minutes. He drummed his fingers on his legs, calculating. “How much longer will it be?”

“Approximately four minutes and twenty-one seconds.”

Gathering his bag and coat, he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Drop us to the ground.”

The hover began to descend. Kai flung open the door before they had even reached the street.

“Your Highness, the journey is not complete,” the feminine voice objected.

“I’ll run!” Kai yelled, jumping to the ground and taking off. He sprinted to the end of the street, tearing a bite from his croissant and nearly knocking over a pedestrian and a chihuahua dressed in a pink jumpsuit. “Sorry!” he called out.

The academy came into view as he turned the corner, some fellow late stragglers rushing out of hovers. He checked his port watch. Six minutes to homeroom. 

As he dashed up the courtyard and into the locker bay, he received a good helping of bewildered stares. Reaching his locker, Kai folded over his knees, gasping in air as his heart pounded in his temples.

A chuckle cut through his wheezing. “Hey, whatcha running from, Prince? Finally realised what was coming for you?”

Kai closed his eyes, holding out a hand. “Later Lijun, I don’t have time for this.” 

Lijun looked positively furious when Kai opened his eyes, but he just turned, pressed his thumbprint to his locker keypad and stuffed his bag inside.

“Oh, so you think you can just talk like that to me, huh?” Lijun snarled, ripping the pastry from his hand. “You think you can just—”

“Yeah, yeah, harass me later, I gotta go.” Kai seized his wrist, took another bite of his croissant, and sprinted away. Lijun would make him regret that later. But he had greater priorities right now.

The digital clock above the school’s trophy cabinet read 8:47. Three minutes left.

It took a good deal of force to weave past the loitering students blocking the hallway. Eventually, Kai found his target by the library door. Yìchén was engrossed in his portscreen, loudly making sound effects as he swung it around like a steering wheel. “Yes! Triple hit!”

“Yìchén!” 

Yìchén lept in his skin, dropping his port and only just managing to catch it midair. “Kai! I hadn’t saved that level,” he moaned.

Kai raced over. “Is Jenny here?”

“She said she’s hanging out with Myla today. Something about being sick of our testosterone-fueled—”

“Good. I need to talk to you. Without her.”

Confusion was scrawled across his face. “We have homeroom in only a minute.”

One minute. No time for formalities then. Kai grabbed his shoulders, ignoring the Game Over chime from the port and the mystified look in Yìchén’s eyes.

“Tell me what you know about Princess Selene being alive.”

Notes

Did you know that every member of the Rampion Crew has a short story about their childhood EXCEPT for Kai? This is an egregious oversight and I had to remedy this immediately.

Btw this is set when kai is 13 because right now cinder is 11 and waking up for the first time so it’s like princess selene is waking to the world and to kai!!

虎子 (Hǔ zi) means tiger cub in Mandarin

@cindersassasin @hayleblackburn @spherical-empirical @salt-warrior @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @kaider-is-my-otp @slmkaider @luna-maximoff-22 @kaixiety @snozkat @mirrorballsss @skinwitch18 @bakergirl13 @wassupnye @linh-cindy @therealkaidertrash21 @winterrhayle

[cecilpedia]

I find it really weird how a lot of people (including other trans people) either aren't aware of or deliberately ignore the fact that a lot of transphobic talking points ARE in fact directed towards trans men/transmascs.

A huge amount of the anti hrt fear is directed towards people who are taking testosterone. The "this is my voice one day on..." trend that was popular on the internet a couple years back started out with people making fun of trans men recording their progress on T. "Tranny voice" only really became a widespread thing to harass people over when K*lvin Garrah and other similar transmed influencers were making passing advice videos. The book Irreversible Damage went on about "autistic young girls" being "manipulated into thinking they were men." When someone gives a trans character a name in a transphobic joke, a good 8 times out of 10 it's going to be a stereotypical transmasc name like Kai or Aiden or Noah or Oliver.

This is not me trying to say that transfems have privileges over transmascs (and if you do use this post as an excuse to say transfems are privileged over transmascs or talk about "amab privilege" you are NOT welcome here). But it just seems like issues unique to trans men are ignored or flat out denied.

[drujiko]

𝗠𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗔𝗱𝗺𝗶𝗻

✨// Howdy, this account is ran by Jester! A majority of what I post will be canon compliant, but I'll be filling in some information with my own headcanons. Admin is an adult!

𝗥𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗚𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

For a majority of my rules, please see the list posted by @marbled-magician! If you're wanting to interact with the doctor, I ask that you read over these and the ones I have added below.

While Ujiko is a controversial character within the show, the admin does not condone or approve of his actions. Harassments or death threats will not be tolerated and will result in a block.

Please don't vent in the asks. I understand that it's easy to do with a fictional character, but there is a real human behind the screen.

This blog will, for the most part, be pg-13. References to Nomus, Nomu creations, death, etc. will be used. Canon back stories such as Tomura Shigaraki's and All For One's will be referenced. This account is not spoiler free.

He'll be interacting with villains, ocs, and heroes. However, his responses will be in character! So he may be uninterested, mean, or backhanded depending on what has been said. If you want to plot something out, message me!

𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗨𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗖𝘂𝘁

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲

𝗟𝗲𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗩𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀/𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝗟𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗻𝘁

Tomura Shigaraki - @dusty-handyman

Himiko Toga - @little-sis-toga

Kurogiri - @mistdad

Touya Todoroki (Dabi) - @endeavorsbiggesthater

Atushiro Sako (Mr. Compress) - @marbled-magician

Shuichi Iguchi (Spinner) - @spinner-the-gecko

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice) - @duality-in-spandex

Kenji Hikiishi (Magne) - @magnetic-sister

Mustard - @must4rdmha

Goto Imasuj (Muscular) - @bl00dymerder

Lady Nagant - @the-lovely-lady-nagant

Kagero Okuta (Giran) -

𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗸𝗮𝗶

Kai Chisaki (Overhaul) - @kaichisaki-rp

Hari Kurono (Chronostasis) - @kurono-stasis

Shin Nemoto - @shinnemoto-rp

𝗠𝗲𝘁𝗮 𝗟𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗔𝗿𝗺𝘆

Rikiya Yotsubashi (Re-Destro) - @theliberat0r

Geten - @geten-iceman

Koku Hanabata (Trumpet) - @inciting-trumpet

Chitose Kizuki (Curious) - @yourcur1ousrep0rt3r

Tomoyasu Chikazoku (Skeptic) - @skeptic-inc

𝗣𝗿𝗼-𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗲𝘀

𝗢𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀

Getaway - @just-getaway

Kageno - @kagenoakirp

Yumiko - @yumikoshigarakirp

Static - @static-volt

Carmine & Rockstar - @teamdesertflower

Morrigan Taggart - @nightshcderp

[hollyandkuroo]

Haikyuu guys as icks

Saw this idea from someone else xx enjoy

Speaker kid - OMFG its like 8 am and this guy has a JBL speaker at max playing Pop Smoke and Travis Scott, he gen does not give af about his attendence and is late to every class, hes obnoxiously loud and everyone just wishes he would stfu. Hitting that dispo during every passing period.

Terumshima, Tanaka , Iwaizumi

School threat/discord kid - This guy genuinely has like no friends & never talks, hair be greasy and moderates discord servers like the navy. Makes "dark humor" jokes and when someone says something he says shit like, "relax liberal"

Mad Dog, Tendou (SORRYYY I LOVE HIM IT JUST FITS) Tsukishima lowk, kind of Kenma maybe besides the no friends part

TikTok cornball - UNIRONICALLY says things in tt comments sections like, "L + Ratio" "that tuff buddy😹" "Im Himothy" "average woman 😹". Thinks that these terms and refrences are so fcking funny: "what the sigma" "tiktok rizz party" "skibiddi toilet" "fanum tax" "GYATTT".

Atsumu, Bokuto, Lev (bro is childish) , Oikawa, Nishinoya, Hinata

"Opium" fashion demon / fashion snob - Makes ootds and fit checks ALL THE DAMN TIME. Truly believes he is superior to everyone because his fashion taste and wardrobe. Walks around acting like hes on the runway or something. Thinks carti is king and sags his pants. Hes also tries to act "nonchalant"🤢 cause hes just "too cool" for everyone ig. "Kai he/him ig" LMAO

Kuroo, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Osamu

Pretentious fuck - Lowk same breed as the last one but this is the guy to see a girl where a Nirvana shirt and say, "Name AT LEAST 3 songs, please, like genuinely". And makes you feel actually stupid and unworthy LMAO. He thinks deftones is under ground. Says things like "what do yall know about be 'quiet and drive far away by deftones' " As if thats not like one of their most popular songs??? Lowk harasses people about their Spotify wrapped.

Akaashi lowk, Tsukishima, Kageyama, Atsumu

Hornball - Bro is a freak and makes it very known. He posts on his public story literal p0r/n, and captions it things like "need this atm😩" or "mood🥴". LIKE BROOO ACTUALLY STOP WE ARE UNCOMFORTABLE. He has too many damn highlight of himself on instagram too.

Yamamoto, Nishinoya, Terushima, Kuroo

"Broken" emo - This guy goes on snapchat and post on his story a black screen with the caption "logging off for a bit, if you need me text my number" or "dhmu". WE DO NOT CARE ONG. When he was in middle school he watched and reposted bart simpson emo edits, and even attmepted to make his own emo corn ball edits". Says things like "all girls are the same" when his girlfriend in middle school left him.

BOKUTO, oikawa, Atsumu, Hinata

Ok BYEEE

My first post

[kirinda-ondo]

Do you enjoy Supreme Kais and also use Instagram? This is a warning for you:

TW: Stalking, harassment, and grooming minors

Y'all, please keep an eye out on Instagram user @/queenlillian_shygalgirl (Tumblr URL @/queenartistlillian). She has severely stalked my friend by way of block evading, sending unmarked packages to her home, and taking and posting unauthorized pictures of her, including pictures of her sleeping.

She has also sent NSFW art to minors and has openly admitted to being in love with a minor. She is 32 with a child of her own.

More information can be found on this post here, and testimonies from other witnesses and victims will be coming soon.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @queenlillian_callout

I am not one for call-outs, but this user has done a great deal of damage to people and I strongly feel that others need to be aware of the situation. Proceed with caution, spread the word, and block. Do not harass anyone involved. Thank you.