#kay attention tags

[istjury]

random oc sketch but i have no idea how to draw boots

[bonkutoe]

nekoma hcs i've been dreaming up since before the movie came out:

- shibayama keeps a quote book

+ there are some absolutely foul, heinous statements in there.

+ he ends up passing it down to a first year before he graduates and has to explain uhh. quite a lot!

+ "um. why does yaku call kai babygirl" "how about we stop talking for a while!"

+ "'it tastes so good i would stick—' shibayama-san what IS this" "I'M JUST THE MESSENGER IT'S NOT MY FAULT"

- kuroo made a sliding scale diagram of every nekoma member from most to least catlike and refuses to accept any criticism

+ in order (as far as more relevant characters go) it went kenma, fukunaga, kuroo himself, tora, yaku, kai, shibayama, lev, inuoka

+ yaku in particular was deeply offended about his placement

+ "you're like if a dog could be a cat" "FUCK you how is tora higher than me" "well that's because he's like if a cat could be a dog."

- inuoka has a special handshake with everyone

+ the one with tora is the longest because they keep thinking of stuff to add and its really cool and not a distraction at all kuroo they promise

+ it's 40+ steps at this point

+ they keep having to restart because one of them forgets something

+ kuroo just wants to do serving drills and he's getting tired of asking nicely

- fukunaga can will and does fall asleep anywhere

+ like. anywhere. in a plane on a train on his desk at school on the floor in the library you name a location and i'd bet good money he's snoozed there. he fell asleep on the bench during a timeout once in the middle of a practice match. yaku found him in a cabinet one time

+ some under the counter door closed curled up shit. made it look like sleeping on a cloud too i'm sure

- speaking of fukunaga. he carries around one of those little party noisemaker things around with him so he can use it when something makes him happy

+ like those ones where you blow in them and the paper unrolls and it honks or whatever. you know the sound idk how to describe it

+ he's exploring creative methods of communication so he doesn't have to force himself to talk all the time :)

- every time kuroo sees a cat he HAS to meow at it, it isn't a question of if he will or not, he Has To. it's like a compulsion

+ it's the alternative to baby-talking them (which he also does sometimes)

+ when ppl send cat pics in the gc he types meow and hits send

+ he wants to be POLITE and say HELLO and since cats can't speak japanese, kuroo will speak cat

+ he gets down to their eye level too or at LEAST crouches. he doesn't wanna frighten them

- lev tried to keep the blood speech alive after the third years graduated

+ "ok we're blood--" "you're doing it WRONG" "WHATT WHATTTTT"

+ he tries to come up with something new but gives up bc he can't stop thinking of vital organs

+ "ok ok kenma i got it this time. so we're like the liver--" "tora i'm gonna kill this guy"

- touchiest volleyball team known to man

+ hugs, heads on shoulders or in laps, holding hands, shoulder touches, patting each other on the back or the head, arms around shoulders, cuddling at sleepovers they're doing it ALL

+ totally indiscriminate too. if you attend nekoma high school and join the boys' volleyball club you will not be touch starved i can tell you that

- you know how when you have a litter of kittens they all kind of sleep in a pile

+ this is a maneuver nekoma hits often, i think

+ it turns into a catch-all solution for like. anything

+ didn't get enough sleep? cat pile. finals are coming up? cat pile. forgot your phone at home? cat pile. it rained during the school day and you got the bottom hem of your pants wet on the way to afternoon practice? cat pile.

+ it sort of happens in the gym before/after practice just because it's the most convenient option, but it definitely happened in the bleachers after the dumpster battle too

[cookii-moon]

Introducing… the Perfectly Neurotypical Ninja!!!

(I had an idea and thought it’d be funny)

our first incredibly neurotypical ninja is…

✨ JAY! ✨

Has zero volume control whatsoever

He can NOT be quiet for the life of him

There is no way he doesn’t have some form of anxiety disorder

Like his entire panic and fear definitely seem like anxiety to me

Has a plushie he still sleeps with for comfort and is emotionally attached to (which is super real of him honestly)

Panic attacks

He DEFINITELY has hyperfixations

Have you just seen him in general

That one short where he just starts running around on the roof

Also that one time he and Kai were supposed to train and got distracted by competition (Actually this could probably apply to all the ninja because they do this type of thing all the time)

Got so hyperfixated on dancing games that he learnt how to dance

I don’t think he can sit still it just doesn’t seem possible to me

(I’m not a Jay fan so I can’t point to much else off the top of my head but we’re all in agreement there’s no way he’s neurotypical right?)

Okay never mind, our FIRSt neurotypical ninja is…

✨ COLE! ✨

Talks to himself. A lot.

No seriously he talks to himself so much

Professional school dropout

Gets along great with animals and people who don’t fit in

Probably has owned a pet. Or five. (Probably a cat or a reptile) (he came around to them eventually and now he loves them) (dogs are too energetic and loud)

Most likely has depression

Definitely has sensory issues there’s no way he doesn’t

That one time he nearly had a breakdown from being overwhelmed. (Points to core shorts)

Dislikes metaphors (canon)

Wears the exact same hoodie without fail in every single episode where he has to wear civilian clothing (I think it’s a comfort thing at this point)

Probably taught himself several different ninja things he had no need to learn (why can he fight with a sword and nunchucks when he never uses either of them outside of a single special) (this also applies to shields and staffs and throwing stars but those are at least practical)

He says it’s to prepare but really he did it for fun

Has somehow not discovered his ninja special interest yet

(he physically can’t do anything else it’s too boring) (even when he’s not ninjaing he needs to practice once a day minimum or else he explodes)

Dances when happy/excited (definitely not a stim)

Immediately starts telling Jay about dancing when he enters the contest in a very excited manner (definitely not infodumping)

Has caused several misunderstandings due to bad social skills (he can NOT read the room for the life of him)

His best friend is Jay.

(even if he’s not autistic there’s no way this guy is neurotypical.)

(these are not the actions of a neurotypical person we’re all in agreement of that right)

Whoops… uh…never mind…our FIRST!!!! Neurotypical ninja…

✨ NYA! ✨

Terrified of failure

Like it haunts her she does NOT want to fail she has an entire arc devoted to it

Has a hard time letting go of things (she holds grudges A LOT)

This also includes things of sentimental value like Samurai X

Change is difficult for her just in general

SUPER stubborn

Definitely has a schedule that she envisions in her head but forgets to tell everyone else

(that short where she planned to spend time with Jay but he was going to the arcade)

Short temper especially on bad days

The more I write this the more I realize how little characterization she actually gets for most of the series

Justice for Nya honestly

(I’m assigning her neurodivergence I don’t care how short this is)

(I think autistic. But spicy.)

(probably also anxiety or OCD)

(do you see the vision)

….Okay so maybe not that one either- Uh… our FIRST!!! Neurotypical !!! Ninja!!!

✨ KAI! ✨

Has anger issues. Probably.

Super impulsive

No like incredibly impulsive. Ultra impulsive.

Craves attention but has really bad self worth issues

Hinges his worth on his powers (not healthy)

Wanted to be useful so badly that he convinced himself he’d get powers if he drop kicked Garmadon (it did not work)

Did I mention anger issues

Wants to be useful so he can protect!!!

That one time he and Jay were supposed to be training and-

Has zero patience

(I don’t know what flavor of neurodivergent he is but he’s neurodivergent somehow)

(once again I don’t pay attention to Kai there’s definitely more)

…Okay so this time for sure. Introducing FOR SURE our FIRST neurotypical ninja….

✨ ZANE! ✨

Do I even need to say anything

The entire episode “Home”

Social skills

Taking things literal

That one canon (?) book where he apparently has flashbacks to the ice emperor (im calling OCD or PTSD on that one Zane)

Also that one time he locked away bad memories in decoded (decoded is canon to me and the reason for that is mainly because it actually references ghost Cole (iirc) which is a miracle)

Yeah I think he has PTSD

that one time he hyperfixated on and roleplayed as a detective and then a pirate

probably more. Maybe.

That one’s a robot he’s disqualified. The FIRST, FOR SURE, NO MISTAKES, neurotypical ninja is…

✨ LLOYD! ✨

The fact he apparently has so much of starfarer memorized that he can nearly win a quiz contest thingy and the only thing that stopped him from doing that was that he hadn’t read a brand new limited edition issue

starfarer in general he is not normal about starfarer

Way too trusting for his own good

I would be more surprised if he didn’t have some sort of disorder considering everything he’s gone through

hes got to have at least something related to his trauma right

(This one is way shorter because. Again. Not a Lloyd fan. but. I think the starfarer thing is enough to push him into probably not neurotypical territory.)

(most kids do not know the entire plot and all the fun facts to a long running comic book series by heart)

Are you kidding me none of them are neurotypical?

Okay ne- what do you mean the last one

there’s those ones over there!!!! *points to Arin, Sora and wyldfyre*

Oh wait they’re also neurodivergent?

…..uuuuugh shows canceled then…. Sigh… Guess I’ll start up the Incredibly Neurodivergent Ninja show instead.

(disclaimer this is a joke)

(but they are all neurodivergent that part isn’t)

[localguy2]

Rewatching the calm inside made me think about the "Ninja Never Quit!" scene

And I'm left thinking about something, sure the name "The Imperium monastery" sorta gives away where they're gonna end up, but how would they *exactly* know where?

I'm sure that anyone with a sane mind could come up with a reasonable explanation like "They saw through some hidden cameras" or "they had a map of Imperium and knew precisely where they would end up."

BUT, it's much funnier if you take the explanation as:

They randomly guessed they'll end up outside the palace, so they specifically just waited by the front door for a few minutes and all agreed on yelling "Ninja Never Quit!" when they jump out.

[a-hypnos-v]

first time drawin him, hope i got the likeness right, but tips would be appreciated from any seasoned fanartists of him

[zamisriza-the-resurrection]

Having an Evil Goku and making the Z-fighters and Goku himself forced to confront a potential reality where Goku was evil was a massive missed opportunity in the Zamasu arc. I mean if it's a multiverse there's gotta be infinite possibilities. Also it would've been cool to incorporate into XenoVerse 2 as Trunks and the Supreme Kai of Time get into a minor argument of why they can't just make Goku good. Basically it's because no matter how horrible the "canon events" for a lack of a better term, may be, the least they can do is keep the individual timelines they way it was originally written. Not to mention the horrific implications of him allying with the future Zamasu and wanting to erase everyone and having to think about what made him snap. Like Toriyama wanted to make Goku more unique, why not make him encounter an enemy where the heroism caused him to snap? It would be unique because it doesn't take away from Goku for the sake of being edgy like some other shonens do, also it would force Goku to actually think about that rather than going full villain mode because it's an alternate Goku. Yes that was a long introduction and in this essay I will

[anxiety-elemental-kay]

And Take Away Its Pain: A Comparison of Masculinity, Trauma, and Queerness in Warcraft and Warframe

First, I want to shout out my friend Silriven at BluSky. (If any of you are mean to her I will Find You.) This thread she wrote recently reflecting on if/how she still likes Anduin as a character was what got me started writing this essay. She talks about the fandom response to Anduin, and the ways both the fandom and writers contradict themselves in discussing the character. The reason I wrote this essay is because I can think of another character and video game that work as a counterpoint to the way Anduin is portrayed.

Even before this specific thread, I made made a thread on BluSky comparing Warcraft and Warframe much earlier because both these games had major update reveals at around the same time. Not only that, but their content served as an interesting contrast between the different games' stories, and my own reactions to each.

The War Within[1] trailer and related announcements were revealed at Blizzcon 2023, around the same time as Digital Extremes, the developers of Warframe, held Tennocon 2023, which included a thirty minute demo of their next major story update, Whispers in the Walls.

For those unfamiliar with either/or World of Warcraft and Warframe, I’ll give a quick summary of the trailers.

In TWW trailer trailer we see Anduin Wrynn sitting by himself in a desert. Anduin is a character the players have known for a long time, and last time we saw him he chose to disappear in response to a trauma he suffered in that expansion’s story. Here his face is dirty, he’s grown out a beard, and his hair is cut short. He has a vision of something that looks like a star calling his name. A second character appears, an orc named Thrall. The two talk; Thrall is calm while Anduin is angry and confrontational. They discuss the visions they’ve been having, how someone at “the heart of the world” is calling out to them. (Anybody who’s kept up with Warcaft's story even a little bit will know this voice is the Titan Azeroth, who lives inside the planet Azeroth.) When Thrall touches Anduin’s shoulder, Anduin has a brief flashback to when the ghost of his father touched his shoulder. Anduin draws his sword and declares “I’m not that person anymore! I have no Light! Not after what I’ve seen, not after what I’ve done!” Thrall replies “You are not your past, Anduin” and expresses his trust in Anduin, who struggles to not cry, and lowers his sword. Both of them experience a much stronger vision of the star calling for them, then Anduin accepts Thrall’s hand, and Anduin pledges to stand with him. They both express confusion at who could be calling out to them. (It’s Azeroth you dinguses!!!) The trailer ends with a cool shot of a giant sword sticking out of the desert, before switching to The War Within expansion logo.

Now, the Whispers In The Walls showcase was a full demo including gameplay, but to keep the comparison as fair as possible, I only talk about the opening three minutes [2]. You can see the whole showcase here.

In the Whispers preview, we open with a cutscene. We start with some spooky eldritch speech, then we shift to someone the player will have heard of before, but never seen, Albrecht Entrati. Albrecht checks a beeping pager, and then an old computer, both out of place against the stylized sci-fi future setting of Warframe. He is followed by his feline companion. He gives his cat some pats, then he sits in a sci-fi casket, where his kitty also curls up. A second character, who we’ll learn later is named Loid, approaches Albrecht with his head bowed and eyes on the floor. Albrecht reaches up to Loid to touch his cheek, and wipes away a tear with his thumb. (Remember this moment, it's important for a point I'll make near the end of this essay.) Albrecht's dialogue is subtitled as (Quiet whispering). Then Albrecht lays down, and the casket closes. Loid raises a hammer as the casket makes loud sounds and lights flash, before he finally brings the hammer down to smash the casket. The screen cuts to black, then the gameplay starts.

Comparing these two teasers at the time, I thought about how Whispers was much more effective at building a story hook by creating mystery. Even if I limit myself to that opening cinematic, we have one character, Albrecht, who we’ve heard a great deal about and is important to the story, but we’ve yet to meet him in-person. The contrast of his 90’s tech and fashion against the more fantastical technology common to Warframe’s universe is stark and creates interesting questions. We’re introduced to this relationship Albrecht has with Loid. I don’t know who these people are or what their circumstances are, but I see genuine love and conflict. I’m already invested in learning more and seeing what happens to them. It’s a great hook! I actually rewatched that opening three minutes a few times while writing this because I have brainworms!

The TWW trailer is about creating a hook based on seeing where beloved characters are now, seeing what’s become of them when the player wasn’t looking. Azeroth the Titan is speaking to the main cast, which is clear to the audience familiar with the game but not the characters for unclear reasons. Anduin is still suffering, unable or unwilling to heal from his trauma. Thrall wants to him to come out of hiding. Anduin agrees to. That’s it. What’s the story hook here? Anduin seems to have gone nowhere in the years since he was last seen, and I have no sense of where his story (or Thrall’s, or Azeroth’s) might be going. I don't even know why Anduin changes his mind and chooses to help Thrall. What, just because there's another big threat to the world? The last one wasn't enough to bring you out of hiding? It’s just stuff happening, a general sense of vague Peril. I can't even get that excited about the shot of Sargeras' sword! Blizz should've thought to address that earlier, like, when the planet got stabbed! That was cool and exciting! Our planet got stabbed by Warcraft Satan! Then it's ignored for years until now, after people kept asking what was going to happen to it. The trailer tries to build a mystery about where the visions are coming from, but it's the Titan Azeroth, the players figured it out right away, there's no mystery. I don't have any reason to feel like the writers care about the story, setting, or characters. I’m left feeling nothing for any of it but a vague sense of disappointment.

Even more, the TWW trailer feels like it’s deliberately avoiding adding any details. Anduin talks about how he’s lost his Light, how he’s “not that person anymore” which is not a bad way to take his arc, but I can’t connect it to when Anduin was enslaved by the Jailer in Shadowlands. I know where his trauma comes from, but the trailer makes no effort to explain or expand on how those specific events affected him. I’m not even going to explain what any of that means to people unfamiliar with Warcraft because it doesn’t matter! In both dialogue and in visuals, the trailer gives little texture or meaning to what Anduin is feeling. In the Whispers trailer, I know Loid is sad, not just because Albrecht is leaving, but that he has to have a role in that departure. I don't know what happened to Albrecht at this point, but the emotional hook is there along with the questions about the story. I care because I believe these two characters are in love. Why should I care that Anduin feels he's lost his Light? I have no sense of what this loss means or feels like. I have no sense of what he's struggling with, or what he might face in the future.

Since those trailers were released, Warframe had its promised Whispers update, and I’ve played the full quest and leveled up the linked faction, which contained more story. While I know I’m being unfair comparing a trailer to a full release, I will continue to do so anyway because 1) I’m a bitter old faggot, and 2) the full story of Whispers makes the comparison between Loid/Whispers as a whole and Anduin/TWW even more interesting/saddening.

This is your warning that I’ll be spoiling the quest Whispers In The Walls. Eventually. I've got some foundation I want to lay first.

I found a tweet thread by Christie Golden, one of Warcraft’s major writers. She links a TIME article about a woman struggling to raise her son to be gentle and kind in a world that encourages anger and violence in men. Golden lists Anduin (among others) as an example of nontoxic masculinity in fictional media. In her replies she goes on to expand on her thoughts.

Here’s the tweet by Golden that stuck out to me: “Too often men and boys who gravitate to the gentler side are automatically perceived as being gay, whether they are or not. ALL men/boys should be able to display these qualities, just like all girls/women can be tough and fearless and athletic if that's who they are.”

What’s wrong with being perceived as gay, Golden?

To be fair, there is a point here about assuming someone’s sexuality based on their personality or behavior. That is nonsense, and assigning traits to someone based on an observer’s opinion isn’t good. I even agree that not all straight characters should be one thing and all gay characters should be another! The problem with Golden’s statement is the implicit bias, being “automatically perceived as being gay” is framed as something bad. Why shouldn’t straight men and boys look up to a gay character? Can they not see themselves in a queer character? Why?

This is another reason why the comparison between TWW and Whispers is so interesting, because Whispers is gay. Sure, there are people who will argue Loid and Albrecht weren’t in love, because no one explicitly says they were together, but if you’re paying attention that’s unneeded. Loid refers to Albrecht as “my Albrecht”, and later, in a diary entry, we hear Albrecht refer to Loid as “my Loid”. There's a moment in the quest where we watch a recording of Albrecht, and he says, “I need Loid to understand why I had to leave. Without him. Why I forced him to destroy the device after I had gone. And why I could never say the words he so needed to hear.”

If you listen to the codex entry “Albrecht’s Notes: The Aftermath” about what he went through after coming back injured from the Void, you get even more. Albrecht describes Loid as “crooning motherly” and how “Loid nursed me then” back to full health. His descriptions, and the voice acting, are entirely earnest. There is no sarcasm or veiled disdain as he describes Loid in these feminine terms. The affection Albrecht both received, and gave, was genuine.

“The agony bit deep, but it was clean. Blameless love bled up from me.

I had decided to live.”

Yes, yes, this section is partly for me to be snappy at the people in the Warframe community who insist Loid and Albrecht aren’t a couple. What I want to demonstrate here is mechanically how Warframe tells its audience these characters are in love without needing to spell it out. Why it’s reasonable (and valid) to interpret characters as queer even if they don’t list their labels on their bios, so to speak.

To bring this back to the character of Anduin Wrynn: while he’s never been officially portrayed as queer, his story, at least in its earliest years, very much was.

Though we don't see much of Anduin in-game early in Warcraft's life, his first story plays out in the supplementary comics and novels. There’s a conflict between who Anduin feels he is and who he is expected to be. He’s expected to become a warrior like his father, Varian, but Anduin finds wielding weapons difficult. He's unable to reach Varian's standards for who he should be. Instead, Anduin chooses to become a healer, in Warcraft terms he chooses the priest class, and focuses on spellcasting and support. At one point, as Anduin is about to leave home to go and train in healing magic, Varian reaches out and nearly breaks his son's arm in his attempt to force him to stay. Varian is horrified at what he's done, and Anduin leaves.

Anduin's story is literally about rejecting the traditional masculinity his father represents to pursue his own, alternative path. We see how the life Varian's lived, a warrior's life full of violence, has poisoned his relationship with his son, how his toxic masculinity was a destructive force. Varian’s story in parallel is learning to accept Anduin’s choice, and learning to understand that his son is still powerful and capable, even if he’s not “strong” in the way Varian himself is. In addition, Anduin is one of the few characters who objects to the war(craft) between the two player factions and wants to find peace between them. Anduin’s story was, in theme if not in content, very much a queer narrative! It's about challenging tradition and finding a path that's more true to who he is and what he believes in.

This was why I connected with the character of Anduin initially. I started playing Warcraft in late Wrath of the Lich King, after ICC came out. When I first met Anduin he had a default human child model, and he said and did basically nothing. Then Cataclysm was released, he got his own teenager model, and a whole questline to himself. Suddenly he was someone with agency, wants, and personality! And then Mists of Pandaria came out and Anduin got to be a major focus of an entire expansion!

Anduin was absent from the next expansion, but the one after, Legion, Anduin returned with an adult model, and his father dies during the story's prologue. While he didn’t get the same focus he did in Mists, in Legion Anduin still had a whole storyline about becoming king, accepting his new role, and making peace with his father's death. It's smaller than his role in Mists, but it's a storyline I enjoyed!

I’ve literally watched this character grow up in real time. It’s a powerful experience!

(Side note: there’s a lot that can be said about Anduin as a monarch, what kind of state head he is, how he treats his people, and is an aspect that largely goes unacknowledged in the canon story. I'll shout out Silriven again, this is a topic she's gone a good job of discussing before. I want to acknowledge this part of his character, but I consider it beyond the scope of this specific essay. I do think making him king, making him someone who extracts taxes and sends people to die in war, does have a major impact on his character, his masculinity, and how he processes trauma. However, talking about monarchy, even a fictional one, is its own topic and needs its own space to explore. It's something to keep in mind whenever discussing any major character in Warcraft who is also a major political leader.)

Through all this I would say I saw Anduin as queer. At no point does he express serious romantic interest in anyone, nor does he appear to be under any pressure to find a partner through either societal or political norms. The themes of his stories made me think he was gay, especially as the only other character he grows close to is another boy. Anduin was a comfort character for me.

This began to change in the expansion after Legion, Battle for Azeroth.

Anduin begins to wear a set of plate armor, looking more like his warrior father, and the role he once rejected, than the priest he chose to be. He leads his armies in a war that he used to be wholly against, a contradiction he never fully confronts. When he punches Wrathion, a childhood friend who reappeared in the last expansion patch, players responded with praise in real life. “Manduin” punched Wrathion, who Anduin claimed was responsible for his father’s death. Which he wasn’t, and can only be seen as responsible through a Five Degrees of Kevin Bacon type web. I'm not sure why Anduin says this, unless the writers wanted to either smear Wrathion or erase the history of friendship the two had previously. Or, maybe they didn't want to bring up any legitimate reasons Anduin might be angry at Wrathion, like abandoning him. If I had a nickel every time one person abandoned another to go on an ill-fated time travel adventure, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't much but it's weird it happened twice.

(Here's a tangent: Imagine if Albrecht ended up in alternate Draenor and/or Wrathion ended up in 1999. Those stories would've gone VERY differently.)

Since I’ve brought him up, it’s time to talk about Anduin and Wrathion.

This topic is. Divisive. In the Warcraft fandom.

Wranduin, the ship name, is something that appeared in fandom mid Mists when the two characters first met. Anduin was curious about who this Wrathion person was and set out to investigate. Long story short, their families had a long history of conflict, and Anduin had every reason to be suspicious and mistrustful of Wrathion. Was openly mistrustful of Wrathion. They continue to hang out together through the rest of the expansion.

This all leads up to a particular moment in the novel War Crimes, taking place after the main events of Mists of Pandaria. Anduin and Wrathion continue to spend time with each other in that book, playing games and discussing politics. When Anduin expresses how tired he is, Wrathion declares “I shall, if asked politely, take you on my back and ferry you to fascinating places, where we will have adventures that will age your father ten years in one night.”

I've never read any of the books myself, but I’ve seen this passage passed around online and it stands out to me. It feels genuine, two teenagers who are close friends but also bad at vulnerability and Feelings, making a connection and finding comfort in each other. I’m not even asking anyone to see a romantic angle to this, just to understand the emotions of the moment. It feels specific to them.

I was in the Warcraft fandom during Mists, I thought their relationship was interesting, and it could make for an interesting romance. Despite ideological differences, they were very much kindred spirits. People born into power who’ve also suffered immense loss of agency. Both were forced to grow up quickly, had their lives endangered at young ages, and both want to protect the world they live in, even if that means different things to both of them. That tension, the clash between their ideals and their personalities, the potential for connection and division both, was what made their relationship so interesting.

Then Wrathion disappeared for several expansions, came back in BofA, and the first thing that happens is Anduin punches him in the face. We never see them in a scene together after this moment ends.

It's worth noting that while Wrathion isn't human (he's a dragon in disguise) his humanoid form makes him one of the very few non-white characters in the main cast. They reintroduce him by having a white man, who was once a friend, punch him in the face. This is an action Anduin has never apologized to Wrathion for.

There’s another Warframe character I want to talk about briefly: Ticker. She’s a trans woman.

She's been in the game much longer than Loid and Albrecht, but like them, her identity is never explicitly stated, but at the same time it's unambiguous. She has a deeper, more masculine voice, has a masculine appearance (Old Mate rank spoilers, but if you know you know) while her body language is very feminine and she uses exclusively feminine pronouns and terms for herself. One her voice lines when you speak with her is “A person gets told a lot of things over the course of a life. Who they are. Who they should be. Amateurs, lecturing a professional.”

She is a trans woman, she has some of the best lines in the game, and I love her.

My greatest disappointment with Ticker is that she isn’t involved in the greater storyline associated with her zone. We do meet other good characters (Eudico in particular is a lady character I adore) but Ticker’s exclusion sticks out to me. Sure, one could point to Smokefinger as also being largely absent, but Ticker’s role in the story is to help pay off people’s debts so they don’t suffer more than they have to. This is something she has to do in secret (to her boss’s boss, not to the player natch) or risk facing harsh punishment herself. This could tie directly into the area’s larger story about a workers' union violently revolting against its hyper-capitalist overlords. Why isn’t she in Vox Solaris DE??? By the way, the player sides with the union.

(Side note: Blizzard is an American studio, while Digital Extremes is Canadian. I can feel a potential discussion of these two countries, labor unions, and these two games, but like the point about monarchy in Warcraft, that needs its own space. There's definitely things to talk about, but I'd need to do real research before I could begin to approach it.)

So looking at Ticker, then looking at Whispers, this update shows growth to me. Warframe is showing two men in love[3], both characters and their identities are treated with respect by the narrative and other characters. Yes, this isn’t the same as depicting a canonical trans woman, but I’m inclined to be patient and kind when I sense that creator(s) are earnest about portraying experiences that aren’t theirs. We all have internal biases we need to uproot, it’s a journey that will last our whole lives, and one that will inevitably end incomplete. We can all and always learn to improve our art, as well as our compassion and understanding of other people. For me, forgiveness for earlier depictions that were poor or problematic is easy when I believe the creator(s) are making a sincere effort. We all make mistakes, and we all grow. Hopefully DE will add another canonical trans person to their game who will have a bigger role.

I’m hammering this point home because I have never felt this level of sincere effort from Blizzard.

I know I’m comparing an middle-ish game studio to a massive AAA company, and I do not care. Whether it’s because of the writers’ cowardice or a producer’s mandate, Warcraft takes only small steps to be inclusive, while Warframe is genuinely trying. (DE also updated skin shaders specifically so darker tones would look nicer in their new lighting system!) It's things like this that make Golden's talk about Anduin being an example of nontoxic masculinity ring hollow. Only one of these games seems willing to engage with marginalized stories, with people who live outside of the strict roles we're assigned. The concept of "nontoxic masculinity" cannot exist if one is unwilling to engage with queerness. Allowing men to embrace more gentle behaviors also means not shaming anyone for being gay. Allowing men to do and be things that aren't the pinnacle of traditional masculinity means understanding and embracing that men can and will engage in more feminine behaviors or roles, and this doesn't diminish their gender identity. These concepts are linked.

(I know this is a very binary way of framing these concepts, but let me tell you, Blizz is NOT ready for that discussion.)

Warcraft has added gay characters or made some existing characters gay, but never anybody in the main cast, nothing that would get a major spotlight. Anduin could’ve been an easy solve for this, whether he started a relationship with Wrathion or someone else, it doesn’t matter! Having a major character in a game as large as World of Warcraft would've meant so much. Instead they hide their queer characters in secondary roles, in supplementary media, and made them into easter eggs in the game. Never major characters, never the focus of the story. Nothing they would, for example, show off at a major convention in 2023.

Moving away from talking about queerness for a moment, something that struck me watching the Whispers demo again is that DE isn't afraid to make their new character flawed. I don't want to say unlikable necessarily, because I did like Loid right away, but he's also rude to the established character traveling with us ("Resume your duties, construct!) and then dismissive of the player. He's supposed to wait for an "operator" to arrive at the labs, and thinks it's obviously not the player. By the end of the quest (which I'll talk about in a moment because yes it's relevant) Loid comes to accept that the player is the one he's meant to work with. When you level up the related faction in the full release, Loid eventually tells the player that his role was to care for Albrecht, and it would be his honor to extend that same service to the player. This arc is sweet and feels earned because Loid started so abrasive, the writers weren't afraid to make him abrasive, and even by the end I wouldn't say he's flawless. In fact, in the next update, Dante Unbound, DE has hinted that Loid will have to confront the established character he was rude to in Whispers. Loid feels like a person who's going through shit, in the way that people go through shit. Not with grace, but trying his best anyway.

I bring this up because one of the long standing issues with Anduin as a character, which has gotten worse as time goes on, is the unwillingness to give Anduin flaws. I wonder if this connects back to the point about the lack of specificity about his feelings or experiences in TWW trailer, why Thrall's simple "You are not your past" feels so strange, and why the trailer seems reluctant to acknowledge Anduin's anger as a problem. Anduin has, for a while, been positioned as a moral core for the game, the character who is primarily interested in peace for unselfish reasons. Part of the reason I enjoyed Anduin as a character in Mists was because, sometimes, he got to act like a shitty teenager. He'd be sarcastic or smarmy or do something objectively dumb, like run off to fight a major enemy of his nation on his own. This is especially true when interacting with Wrathion, which includes Anduin using the taunt "You're what, two years old?" To which Wrathion replies "Two in DRAGON years." It's very endearing! Look at these brats, they're believable teenage friends to me. Yes, Anduin is one of the few peace-seekers in the story, he tries so hard to be good and kind even to his enemies, but in moments like these he still feels like a person.

We could look at TWW and say Anduin is demonstrating anger issues, which would be interesting because, like in the example of almost breaking Anduin's arm, this was something Varian struggled with. Except it doesn't feel like the trailer recognizes this as a flaw. The moment goes by and is quickly forgotten. I can look at Loid in Whispers and I recognize where his bitterness comes from: he felt abandoned and so pushes others away. The one detail I did like in TWW trailer was the comparison between Thrall touching Anduin's shoulder, and Varian's ghost doing the same in the past. That moment felt like a trigger for Anduin, reminding him of that moment when he was so vulnerable, but also of his grief for his father. (Nevermind we had that story in Legion about Anduin coming to terms with his grief. Let's ignore that.) It's the most sincere moment of the trailer, but it doesn't follow through! As soon as the second vision dissipates, Anduin takes Thrall's hand and pledges to help. Why? Again, "because there's another big cosmic threat" isn't a good enough reason. What does he feel in this moment? Why did he change his mind now?

Nontoxic masculinity doesn't mean "flawless person". I would still say Loid is a good example of nontoxic masculinity, regardless of if or when he does engage in more toxic behaviors. I'd say as a character Loid is a better demonstration than Anduin of nontoxic masculinity because he's capable of self-reflection, realizing he did something bad, and correcting himself. One interpretation of events in the story of Whispers (because much of Warframe is open to interpretation) is that the local eldritch horror was feeding off of Loid's resentment towards Albrecht, and this was fueling its assault on the labs. Only in reminding Loid of Albrecht's feelings for him, specifically in a way Loid had been deliberately avoiding, can the player begin to take down the bad guy of the quest.

This is a great time to move to my last point about Whispers’ full story: the ending.

I know we can talk about ludonarrative dissonance about two games where the player regularly enacts mass murder and trying to square that with certain story themes. Listen. Hear me out.

In Warcraft, the solution to the final boss is always kill them. (Or arrest them in the case of Garrosh in Mists. In truth this was only a stay of execution). Part of this is the limit of always putting an expansion’s conclusion in a raid. There always needs to be a big fight in a specific kind of setting with specific player expectations. I wish Blizz played with this more; maybe we can only seal away the bad thing? Or maybe the goal is to hold something off while an NPC does a magical ritual that saves the day by some other method? I’m sure there are possible, creative solutions other than “hit bad guy (or his toes if he’s big) until bad guy falls over”.

How does the player save the day in Whispers in the Walls? I’m going to cover this in detail because it’s one of my favorite moments in the whole game.

You spend much of the quest fighting off The Murmur, constructs summoned by the local eldritch horror, called the Indifference (among many other names[4]) which is trying to break into the labs the quest takes place in. The final encounter, the story's climax, has the Indifference possesses a Vessel, one of many unfinished biomechanical giants Albrecht created and left scattered around his lab. The evil Vessel moves in to attack the player, who then possesses a Vessel themself.

The player’s Vessel holds up a hand, and we see a button prompt.

I'm stealing a point from another Tumblr user because it's great. Go read their post and the replies if you're curious about this particular moment!

This button prompt isn’t unusual. There aren’t many quick time events in Warframe, they're not a part of regular run and gun gameplay, but they do appear. If you’re like me, you’ve gone into the accessibility options and toggled button mashing off because wrists hurt. This prompt isn’t unusual to see for me.

But if you didn't use that accessibility toggle, you'll still get this specific prompt. It will be unusual that you're being asked to hold to interact with the scene, rather than the usual smash a button to make thing happen.

So you hold the button, the player’s Vessel reaches out, and when I first played I got excited because I think I’m powering up a big blast to destroy the enemy Vessel!

Then this happens:

I encourage everyone who can to watch the video for the full effect, but I’ll still describe it here:

The background music is ominous, and as you hold the button there's a heartbeat sound. The player's Vessel slowly reaches toward the enemy Vessel. When then the prompt button disappears, the scene goes quiet. The player Vessel gently holds the enemy Vessel's face, mirroring how Albrecht did to Loid at the beginning of the quest. As the music changes to a calming vocal track, we see the enemy Vessel's face change, drop from aggressive to lonely longing. The camera backs away as the two Vessels slow to a stop, posed to echo that "memory of love". The camera switches to Loid, who holds a hand to his own cheek, then looks back at the Vessels. He understands the connection too.

This kind of thing isn’t unheard of for Warframe either! I'll keep additional spoilers to a minimum, but a previous main story quest, The Sacrifice, has similar themes. In fact, my favorite moment from that quest involves a monologue by a major villain about how he is literally unable to comprehend the idea of empathy or compassion. He doesn’t understand why the player character, in a moment of vulnerability and understanding, is able to do what he couldn’t, with all of his violence and brutality.

“And it was not their force of will - not their Void devilry - not their alien darkness. It was something else. It was that somehow, from within the derelict-horror, they had learned a way to see inside an ugly, broken thing —

— and take away its pain.” [5]

In a story where the primary antagonist is a mysterious entity called “The Indifference” we don’t defeat it with force. With hate. What’s the opposite of Indifference?

It’s old man yaoi love. We defeat Indifference with love.

I don’t feel like I was cheated out of a cool moment. I suspect some people did. It’s not like Whispers didn’t have cool moments! I’m not even going to argue that this moment was uncool, just that it brought up different and unexpected emotions in me! It was an interesting and affecting twist on how we expect these encounters to go. It’s moments like these that tell me that Warframe's writers, for all their flaws, are putting genuine thought and emotion into their game. They’re thinking about characters and themes, trying to follow them through even with the scattershot way that video game design demands writers work.

Writing this description reminds me of a moment in Shadowlands, the expansion that traumatized Anduin. It takes place in (surprise!) the Shadowlands, the afterlife of Warcraft’s universe. Thrall, the second character we see in the TWW trailer, meets his mother in Shadowlands. She died when he was a baby, and now that he meets her in these weird circumstances, they begin to create the bond they couldn’t have before. In particular I found this conversation they have touching. A mother who didn't get to know her son, and a son who never knew his mother, finally get to connect. “I knew who you were the moment I saw you,” Draka tells him, “Do you really think I would not recognize Durotan's eyes?"

“Come, I wish to know more of your life, all of it,” she says to him, sounding tired.

It’s such a sweet moment, and bonus points for focusing on Draka, a woman who was functionally fridged prior, who now gets to be a character with personality and (some) agency in Shadowlands. It’s such a perfect demonstration of everything that could’ve been interesting in Shadowlands, what was and is interesting in Warcraft’s story, and what’s so often set aside or overlooked. Can they continue to have a relationship when the current conflict is over? Questions like this are interesting, but Shadowlands doesn’t engage with them at all, and it's poorer for it.

In Warcraft, trauma is aesthetic. Pain is aesthetic. It doesn’t matter what caused Anduin’s suffering in TWW trailer, all that’s important is that we know he’s suffering. We know he's important because he’s a main character and he’s sad about something. But, like, not sad in a way that would make him cry. That part is critical because we all know boys don't cry, right? That bias feels implicit in much of Warcraft's emotional moments. How much more touching would Thrall and Draka's reunion be if Thrall was allowed to cry at finally getting to meet his mom?

Loid does cry, at the beginning of Whispers' quest and during the story of the faction associated with the update. His emotions, and thus his story, feel more genuine and engaging for allowing him that vulnerability.

Warframe wants to engage with specific traumas, how they can make us bitter towards others, perpetuate our own and others’ pain. The point of pain is to understand it, because in understanding, that pain can be taken away. Warcraft has no interest in taking away pain, and it has no interest in understanding it. It’s not about emotional connection, because that requires a vulnerability and a capacity to self-reflect that Warcraft has no interest or courage to engage with. Pain is aesthetic.

Whispers is setting up a longer story arc for Warframe. At the time Whispers was revealed, Warframe was celebrating its 10th anniversary, and the previous main story quest wrapped up the storyline the game told from its release. In this way, Whispers is again an interesting comparison to Warcraft’s The War Within. TWW is also meant to be the start of a new story arc that will last several expansions. I know which story I’m excited about, and which one I feel nothing for.

Loid was a character I met for the first time last year, he immediately felt like a person, and I was emotionally invested. As a player I so badly want Albrecht to finally say the words Loid needed to hear. Anduin Wrynn is someone I’ve known for years, but is now a cardboard cutout. I don't feel compelled to follow his story because... what could it be? Warcraft doesn't seem interested in any conclusion or goal for him. He just is.

I have a lot of complicated emotions about World of Warcraft, as a game and as an influential piece of media. I played the game for many years, and it was an important part of my life. In many ways I’d say it's still a part of me, even after I stopped playing the game itself. Part of writing this essay was following up on some thoughts I shared with friends on BluSky, but part of it feels like exorcising a demon, or bleeding out poison. Part of me grieves for Warcraft, what it meant to me and what I thought it could have been. In Warframe though, I've found a place of comfort and compassion. In between all the space ninja nonsense and vast quantities of horrific violence the player commits, Warframe offers growth, and a way to let go of what hurts us.

—

I'll take a moment and shout out an excellent video essay by Shaun on Youtube called Andrew Tate: How to be a Real Man. It's a great resource for a more general discussion of masculinity in the real world. The video is a criticism of Tate and his approach, why it appeals to some men, and further dissects what masculinity means, and what nontoxic masculinity means. (Is it an inbox full of pictures of Aragorn?) It's a good dissection of masculinity as a concept, and one I'd recommend if you're curious about the topic of toxic/nontoxic or negative/positive masculinity.

—

Yes not only do I have my paragraph long asides I've now also added footnotes. This isn't a peer reviewed journal, you're not my mom, I do what I want!

[1] One of Warframe’s major quests is also called “The War Within” which might be confusing to a reader who knows Warframe. Don’t worry about it, I’m talking exclusively about the upcoming Warcraft expansion here.

[2] For bonus points, if you haven't played Warframe, go to 20:55 on the demo video. You'll see a logo and release date for Whispers In The Walls, hear the live crowd cheer, and the creative director will start to speak... until she's interrupted by something in the game. What you see and hear next is almost exactly as it is in the final release, including the music, minus an extra line of exposition from Loid. This wasn't just a stunt for the convention. I fucking LOVE Warframe.

[3] To be honest this is part of a personal measurement I use to gauge how queer friendly a work is: if they have queer women do they also have queer men? A good example of why I use this is Mass Effect. That franchise always had queer women and an option for lesbian romance, but only in Mass Effect 3 did they add one (1) queer option for a masculine Shepherd. I am a (nonbinary) lesbian so on the one hand I don’t want to dismiss all queer women in media as “pandering” and queer men as “valid”. It’s more of a guideline to estimate how willing a piece of media/creator is to transgress heterosexual norms. Depicting men who love men is seen as more transgressive than two women in love by the gaming community at large. The reasons for this are complicated and they all suck.

[4] hey kiddo

[5] I wanted to avoid spoilers for other Warframe story quests, but The Sacrifice is, again, an interesting point of comparison for Anduin's story. The Sacrifice is, largely, about a character coming to terms with his grief over the death of his son. If you see the whole video I link there, you'll see the player presented with three options: Wrath (We use this memory. It fuels our wrath), Acceptance (We accept this memory and move beyond its reach), and Emptiness (We return this memory to the Void and find peace in our emptiness.) I just wish Anduin's grief over Varian was, at any point, treated with this level of nuance and care.

[chiistarri]

meoq

[omgkalyppso]

Speaking of Elvish pet names. I was thinking of the first time He Who Was calls Étoile, Ancalimon (the brightest, most bright; a masculine given name and equivalent of the feminine Tar-Ancalimë, who was a Númeno/rean Queen, and taken from a poem which includes the line "Ancalima imbi eleni" which means "brightest among stars"); and that he does this in front Astarion, so Étoile is flustered and Astarion is amused and says now they (Étoile) know how he felt [in relation to them first calling him Vanimelda (most beautiful)] and He Who Was asks what it is Étoile calls Astarion; and Étoile and Astarion share a look and Étoile says, "That's between us." And He Who Was thinks for a moment before declaring that he and this name should be good friends then.

Which is just the silliest turn of phrase, but I think He Who Was would be so proud of the double entendre.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

RJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ https://twitter.com/pinkrachas/status/1652270308269899776?s=20

STAYCARATS WE ARE WINNING. I don't care if they're just sitting next to each other. I'll take all of the Strayventeen crumbs I can get. Also, the idea of the tiny kitty that is Felix next to (arguably) the biggest puppy in Kpop 🥺 brb going to sob into my pillow.

[mistyechoes]

very niche and unnecessary opinion but did anyone else who typically views a lot of fiction as either lgbtq+ or found family see Agent Jay and Agent Kay's relationship from MIB (1) more as found family rather than shippy?

[gloryundimmed]

bumps her head against kai's.

"Whatcha doin'? You're gonna give me brain damage doin' shit like that!" he frowns, "I need my brain to do the work ya give me. We're both losin' in this scenario, boss."

[nanaslutt]

Can we get a part 2 of when reader asks satoru and suguru if they fucked before

of course ml!! tysm for asking <3

part 1 here~

contains: fem reader, fluff, crack, choking, hair pulling, anal sex (gojo gets fucked) spanking (geto spanks gojo once), dirty talk, overstimulation, dacryphilia if you squint, dare i say sub satoru, sub/dom dynamics if you squint, suguru and reader are competitive, u tag team gojo together

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“so, when we’re you guys gonna tell me you’ve fucked before?” you asked, raising your eyebrows

gojo froze in place, pausing his efforts to get a towel to clean you up, he slowly turns to you, faux innocence on his stupidly pretty face, a big hand coming to rub the back of his neck

both you and geto stare at him, a smirk plastered on sugurus handsome features, heavy hand holding up his head, awaiting his response,

“now what on earth put that idea in your pretty little head?” he questions, hand falling on his hip sassily as he does an absolutely awful job lying

“oh i don’t knoww,” you drawl, pretending to think, “maybe geto telling you he was going to fuck you like it was the most normal thing in the world,” you scrunched your nose, shrugging

“but what do i know!” your eyebrows raised, suppressing a smile,

“nothing, you know nothing,” he replied, wiggling his finger back and forth in front of him like a child

“don’t tell me you forgot satoru, you might hurt my feelings.” geto teased, from his place between your calves, tilting his head to the side, “i know we were a little tipsy, but you told me i was an unforgettable fuck.” he pouted, faking offense, “you weren’t lying to me were you?”

satoru’s hand still on his hip like the sassy man he was, his mouth just flopping open and closing like a fish out of water, trying to think of a quick retort but failing to come up with anything, because the raven haired man was right

he was a truly unforgettable fuck

“now my feelings are hurt, he didn’t say I was an unforgettable fuck..” you pouted, crossing your arms over your bare chest,

“your mouth almost sucked the soul out of me,” he echoed from the hall

he had taken the opportunity of getos attention on you while he was ‘consoling’ you to slip out of the room, walking back in with a few damp towels, “course you’re an unforgettable fuck, way more than that monkey brained freak,” he hisses at geto, sitting next to you on the bed, using the warm towel to wipe his cum from your cheeks,

“oh? really?” geto let his head fall from his hand, landing against your knee, squinting his eyes at satoru while the blonde continued cleaning down your body, wiping up any fluids the two men had left

“think i remember making you cum..how many times was it again? 4? you were shooting blanks before i was even done with you” he smiles, rubbing your knee fondly with his strong hand while staring at gojo challengingly,

gojo looks away from your breasts, staring back into geto’s deep brown eyes,

“n they only made you cum once..” suguru mumbles into your knee,

“woah! woah, okay, I didn’t know i was competing with you in the first place!” you defend yourself, front half of your body shooting up, making gojo sigh as you accidentally knocked his hand back, “‘s not about quantity anyways, it’s about quality” you said smugly,

“n toru here, said I almost made him die so id say my quality is michelin star,” you proclaimed, narrowing your eyes at him before gojo pushed ur torso back down,

“i’m surrounded by a buncha babies jesus christ,” gojo shakes his head, pulling your leg out of sugurus grasp to access your leaking cunt better, pressing the harsh cloth against you and wiping you as gently as he could,

“sorry,” he winced for you in sympathy when you groaned out a protest, trying to close your legs on his hand at how painfully sensitive the rough towel made you feel, “anyways, you’re both good in bed, kay?” he continues,

“when suguru fucks me, it feels like my fucking guts are getting all messed up to make room for his stupidly big cock,” looking up through his lashes at sugurus smug expression, then back down to focus on what he was doing before making eye contact with you,

your arms still crossed over your chest, “n your throat squeezes me so fucking good i thought i was seein the pearly gates,” hand coming up to pinch your cheek, discarding the towel somewhere on the floor, standing once more to look for someone’s shirt on the floor he can put on,

“ ‘fucks’ as in you’ve had sex multiple times?” you stared in disbelief between the two of the large men, before settling your eyes on suguru

continuing your teasing you spoke up again, “and my compliment still sounded better,” you challenged him, a smug looks gracing your features

“you think so?” the raven haired man scrunched his eyebrows together, before turning his head to look straight at gojo’s supple bent over ass as he picked up a shirt and started to pull it over his head, “well, only one way to be sure which of us is really better.” he says to you quietly before standing

coming up behind gojo and grabbing his raised arms, preventing him from putting on his shirt, “hold that thought satoru, we’re in the middle of a little debate right now” yanking the shirt from satoru’s hands and throwing it back to its prior home on the floor,

“think you can help us? hmm?” he whispers, right into the shell of his best friends ear, sending goosebumps down his neck, “we’ll make it worth your while.”

———————————————————————

almost two hours later and the three of you were still in the same room, on the same bed,

gojo on his back, suguru fucking his cock right into his prostate as you face gojo, bouncing on his overstimulated dick, a thick ring of yours and his combined cum on the base of his overstimulated cock,

“c-cant cum anymore p-please- haaah- fuck please!” gojo whimpers out, thrashing his head back and forth on the sheets as fat tears drip down his face, making his cheeks shine under the light, “‘s too much ‘m too sensitive, ohmygodd” he drags, curses spilling from his lips one after another, his hold on your grip sure to leave nasty bruises as his hips fuck into your warm cunt without his brains permission,

“not till you tell us who’s better,” geto emphasizes with a heavy thrust, hand coming up to choke you out while he gives gojos poor hole the meanest treatment,

“‘s me right? ‘ve made you cum inside me so many times.” you slur, voice strained from getos rough grip on your throat

“bold of you to think that was your doing,” geto scoffs at you, “cmere,” he pulls your head back to press your lips together, other hand interlacing with gojos on your hip

satoru whines underneath the two of you, watching you makeout and feeling your cunt pulse around him because of suguru’s expert tongue work in your mouth had him spiraling

your hands coming up to grab geto’s wrist while he hums into the kiss, biting your lip between his teeth and pulling on it, letting it go before he chases after it and connects your lips once more

“‘m gunna cum again- please fuck- nggghhh i c-cant cum again,” gojo whines, squeezing getos hand and your hip for support as he’s falling into yet another orgasm and fast,

suguru pulls away from the kiss, releasing his grip on your neck as he pushes your lower back down twords gojos chest, “yes you can,” he growls

the raven haired man grabs your hair by the roots and pushes your face into satorus, “help him through it baby,” not needing to be told twice, you grab gojos cheeks with both your hands and slot your lips against his,

“mmmmph- mmm- can-t- p-please i-“ his protests being cut off by your lips, not letting him catch a breath

“got you, cmon” you comfort him in between your assault on his lips, geto reaching between his bestfriend and your body, finding your neglected clit, and rubbing sloppy circles on it, helping you get closer to your own high

“right there with you,” geto grits his teeth, resisting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and tip his head back, so he can watch the show unfolding in front of him,

“gonna fill up this tight ass while you cum inside them, okay? and you’re gonna take everything we give you, right?” geto’s hips losing their rhythm, teetering on the edge of his own orgasm

gojo just whimpers into your mouth, hes trying to speak, he really is, but it’s all too much, he’s completely fucked out

“need to hear you say it satoru,” he emphasizes with a mean thrust, fucking impossibly deeper into his tight hole,

getos hand rubbing sloppily on your clit almost becomes too much, “yes! yesyes please ohmygod- gonna take it- shit-“ gojo’s whiney voice gets out just before he feels your cunt start to squeeze him,

“toru! fuuuuck me!” you whine, the blondes hips mindlessly fucking up into you helping you ride out your high as he cums so fucking hard, bordering on painful as spurt after spurt of his warm seed fills you once more,

and he’s gasping, barely coherent broken moans of both of your names on satoru’s tongue

geto not far behind you as he stills, balls deep inside gojos ass, the last push he needed seeing the two of you cum all over each other,

“yesssss fuuuuck” he clenches his teeth together hard, toothy grin emerging on his face, finally letting his head fall back, eyes following suit, rolling to the back of his head, “take it f-fucking t-take it.” fucking each rope of his cum deep into gojo’s ass

all three of you bask in the aftershocks of your intense orgasms, core clenching and unclenching around gojo’s length as you finally come down, picking your head up from gojos neck and smiling at his current state,

he was sniffling and gasping, red faced, tears decorating his lashes, making them look like glitter, he appeared more fucked out than ever

geto behind him slowly pulls out his softening cock, and gojo lets out a long groan of overstimulation when he does so, digging his fingers into the fat of your sides and wincing, “fuck, please don’t move yet, might pass out if you do” he says to you, his poor dick crying for relief, still snug inside your pussy, twitching every so often against your walls

you giggle, peppering kisses all over his face, he lets his eyes shut, finally relaxing a little as he relishes in the feeling of your soft lips on his skin,

suguru coming around to sit by his head

when you stop your assult of kisses on his porcelain face geto grabs gojos cheek furthest away from him and makes him turn his head into his thick thigh, “so,” geto starts, rubbing his thumb on gojos cheek, “who was better?” he asks, cocky smile finding home once more on his face

gojos eyes shoot open, looking at him slightly panicked, squeezing your upper thighs for support before he speaks, looking back between the two of you,

“i….im afraid if i don’t answer we will never leave this room.” he gulps

geto confirms his fears, tilting his head to the side, face sporting the fakest smile of comfort gojo has ever seen, “you would be absolutely right.”

[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

--

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!!)

[6gumi]

blessed by the heavens above!

synopsis ﹒ jujutsu kaisen men and their tittie obsession !

pairings ﹒ satoru gojo 、suguru geto 、choso kamo 、kento nanami 、ryomen sukuna ( implications of heian form ! ) 、toji fushiguro x f!reader

cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. tits, tits, tits ! ! ! 、titplay 、body worship ( ? ) 、established relationships ( ? ) 、petnames ( pretty thing 、princess 、reader referred to as “girl” once, etc ) 、titsucking 、size difference 、fingering ( sukuna only ) 、 toji called “daddy” once 、 jujutsu kaisen men n’ their luv for titties . . . | tag ! @diorsbrando

note﹒BACK W/ THE JJK WRITINGS ! ! YAAAAY ! ! coughs coughs wrote this while i was sickies . . . (again) i kept sniffling & sniffing each word i wrote down cries . . . i hope i didn’t make too many mistakes :> | reblogs are highly appreciated. if you want to talk to me or send thirsts / requests, feel free to send me an ask ! — millie ♡

୨୧ SATORU GOJO

gojo was having a rough day . . . the higher ups giving him an earful here and there . . . and exorcizing curses left and right, he was exhausted, so it was almost obvious how he was gonna relax for the entire night ! by laying on your chest ! “i’m gonna take it off now, kay?” his large hands ran through the silky piece of fabric covering your entire body. his beautiful eyes widened at the sight of your bare chest, appreciation clear in his gaze. he licked his lips, unable to resist reaching out and lightly grazing his fingers over your skin, a low hum rumbling in his throat. "fuck . . . now that's what I'm talking about," he says, his voice husky with desire. "damn, angel. your tits are absolutely perfect, just like you." with a mischievous glint in his eye, your exhausted boyfriend leaned in and took one of her nipples into his mouth, suckling it gently before releasing it with a pop . . smirking up at you before latching his mouth back onto your nipple.

shit, he loved your tits, he’d ways pay attention to its warmth, and how it felt within his wet mouth. his mouth nearly watering as he struggled to contain his excitement. gojo’s teeth lazily bit at your nipple, trying to be as gentle as possible . . . breathing heavily through his nose trying to maintain some semblance of control amidst the temptation of your body. you were so small compared to him, yet here he was suckin’ and biting at your nipples . . practically crushing your body from below. despite that, his eyes never left their prize, you. reaching out, he brushed a thumb over one taut nipple of yours . . . earning a sharp gasp. “you make me wanna touch, taste, and explore every inch of you, princess.” the sorcerer spoke playfully, squeezing gently. “can we do this every time i come home?”

୨୧ SUGURU GETO

suguru’s heart swelled as he watched you curl up next to him, he needed your warmth and you were giving him just that. the soft whimpers you made . . . drove him to the edge. the room was bathed in a warm, inviting glow from the fairy lights strung around the windows, casting a rosy hue on the soft sheets and fluffy pillows surrounding you both. gently, suguru traced his fingers along the smooth curve of your hip, drawing lazy circles that made you squirm ever so slightly. despite that, it was a simple pleasure, but it brought him immense joy to see the effect he had on his adorable girlfriend. the sorcerer leaned in closer, whispering into your ear . . . bringing his voice down to a low yet soft whisper as his breath tickled your delicate skin. "see? you’re doing so well, bun," your boyfriend cooed softly, his voice full of warmth and affection. “hm . . . were these things always this cute?”

“your body’s divine, i could look at it for eternity.” suguru examined your tits, he was almost . . . fascinated with how they look. god, how did he not notice their beauty until now? with a tender smile, your boyfriend began to play with your ample breasts, pinching and twisting your sensitive nipples as he watched your pretty face contort in pure pleasure. “yeah . . . my darling likes that, hm?” he could feel his dick pressing against it’s confines as he grunted, squeezing at your pretty breasts even harder than before. “. . . s—sugu . . .” a soft murmur left your lips, your teary eyes gazing up at him. “ . . ‘squeezin’ too hard, sugu . .” “lovely . . . if you say that, i can guarantee that i’ll squeeze these pretty things even harder than i already am. so keep that pretty mouth shut and let ‘sugu do all the work, got it?”

୨୧ CHOSO KAMO

“ . . . baby,” choso’s low voice reverberated through the room, his stare sweet and gentle as he pinched your nipple against his thumb. his own eyes were wide at the display of your breasts, a shiver of desire coursed through him . . . swallowing a lump in his throat as he could feel his dick beginning to swell, pressing against the fabric of his pants. "they’re so beautiful . . “ choso murmured, his voice thick with need for you, the sight was too much. unknowingly licking his lips, he brought your other breast to his mouth, sucking on the nipple and teasing it with his tongue. the cursed spirit’s fingers trailed downwards to your sides, teasing the edge of your panties . . . his grip tightening, almost urging you to rock against him, to feel the length of his erection.

"you’re a good girl," choso praised, his fingers lightly tracing over the curves of your breasts nonstop. he was addicted to the feeling . . . the feeling of your sensitive skin sent shivers down his spine. choso leaned in once more, his lips finding your other nipple, licking and sucking gently, watching as you arched into the touch. "you’re a good girl for letting me see these beautiful things . . . so damn hot," choso bit down gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. choso knew the real remedy for your heat; a good, deep pounding from his throbbing cock. but yet . . . he wanted your breasts . . he wanted to give them his attention, worship them. you always knew he had a thing for titties . . . but tonight, he let his obsession shine through even more. your nipples peaked under the gentle pressure, and the sight sent a surge of arousal coursing through his body. “so pretty, baby . . . such pretty tits you have . .”

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI

nanami’s grip tightens on your arm, a low growl rumbling in his chest. he’s been waiting for this, for you. he’s been away from you for too long, a dreadful feeling of irritation was running through his veins and you noticed that. “you . . . okay, ken?” your husband sighs, hauling you onto his lap, the heat from his body seeping through you. you’re smaller than him, and he loves that. it makes him feel good. nanami’s hand cups your breast, kneading it roughly through the fabric. " . . . i’m just exhausted, princess," he cooed slowly, his voice thick with desire. “just . . . just wanna taste you tonight.” nanami had never imagined himself as the type to be so impulsive, but now here he was, unable to resist the pleasure that awaited him, the irresistible joy of feeling your pretty tits he loved so much against his hands.

“ . . . you’re beautiful.” nanami’s heart raced as he feasted on the sight of you infront of him, he was a man who had never allowed himself such indulgences, but now, in this moment, he found he could no longer resist. lowering his head, your husband tenderly kissed each of your swollen nipples, his hands gently massaging the flesh that surrounded them. your whines grew more insistent and adorable, prompting nanami to do more than he should. the sound of your whine was like music to his ears, sending a thrill down his spine as he leaned down . . . lips brushing against your other nipple, nibbling softly. “pardon me for my ignorance, sweetheart . . . i just needed you so much today. you’re so beautiful . . . it drives me absolutely crazy. these tits . . . so irresistible.”

୨୧ RYOMEN SUKUNA

sukuna reveled in the warmth of your body against his own. the feel of your soft yet delicious flesh beneath his fingertips sent electric shock down his spine. sukuna roughly squeezed one of your breasts, marveling at its firmness. “m—more please . .” you muttered against his chest, the curse’s large hand slid further down, fingers probing between your legs as the wetness he discovered sent a surge of excitement coursing through him. “. . . impatient girl.” the king of curses slowly pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling the tight warmth enveloping his fingers. “you’re a needy slut, you know that?” he scoffs, his fingers in and out of your pretty pussy gently. As he did so, he leaned in closer, “here you are . . . begging me for more. just wait ‘till i fuck this slutty pussy of yours ‘till all you see are stars,”

sukuna’s fingers worked expertly, chuckling lowly at your sweet whines while his other arms held your thighs, keeping your pretty legs spread for him “pathetic . . . ‘s like you’re easy to break.” his fingers danced further as his thumb circled your clit while the others plunged in and out of your cunt, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. "just look at these tits . . .” with each syllable of his words he spoke, his digits gradually worked faster, latching his mouth right on your nipples . . . transitioning between sucking, nipping, teasing. the king of curses could feel the heat of your desire, and he wanted to be the one to quench it. “so fuckin’ small . . . even your pussy can’t take my fingers.”

୨୧ TOJI FUSHIGURO

"do’ya like this, doll?" toji’s way of relieving his stress is getting a small ‘lil squeeze of your tits ! or . . . perhaps more than that. his cruel gaze glanced down at your smaller stature, a cocky grin on his lips as he was practically looming over you. toji’s hand slid down your figure, digits dipping between your legs, stroking your wetness. “tell me you want this. tell me you want me." his hands roamed over your entire body, his touch confident and bold as he explored you willingly beneath his body. "damn, you're even more amazing than i imagined," he whispered into your ear, “ . . . might ‘hafta keep ya. don’t want other morons stealin’ ya, doll-face.” toji’s smirk widened as he gently stroked your hair, relishing in the sight of your precious expressions. it was intoxicating to him, this vulnerability that you endured had him in a chokehold.

“always wondered how these pretty tits tasted, baby. guess i should have a ‘lil taste myself tonight,” toji’s frame leaned even closer, looming over yours. “c’mon sweet girl, let daddy take care of you," he whispered, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh before he began to lick and nibble, lapping up the sweet taste of your skin . . his thumb circling with increasing speed as your moans grew louder, more desperate. “fuck, pretty-dolly . . . yer tits are drivin’ me crazy.” toji’s low voice rumbled against his chest, his free hand gripping your hip as he held you firmly in place. “c’mere. sit on my lap, pretty thing . i can give ya somethin’ else to moan and whine about.”

© 6GUMI 2024. modifying 、translating 、sharing my works on other platforms 、or considering them as yours is strictly prohibited.

[o-sachi]

My Golden Girl ‧₊˚ ⋅ One Shot (Request)

ଳ Kaiser loves his generous golden girl, but he hates it when people take advantage of her kindness

ଳ character; michael kaiser (bllk)

ଳ tags; afab reader, no y/n, FLOOF, soft mihya

[🐟]: This takes place before the Blue Lock project, so Kaiser should still be in Germany and practicing with Bastard.

The moon can only shine at night because of the sun.

That's what your relationship is like with Kaiser.

He honestly had no idea where he'd be without you. There were days when he felt like he was slowly losing himself—drowning in the pressure to remain at the top. But as he teeters on the edge, you always come to pull him right back in.

Your sweet words at the end of his day were enough to keep him grounded. As a matter of fact, you barely needed to do much to pacify him. But knowing you—you would go over and beyond for him. Seriously. It puzzles him why someone as pure as you would mess around with someone like him.

But who was he to question you?

"Yo, your girlfriend's been here for like an hour. Have you even seen her already?" Kaiser snaps out of his daydream as the locker room door swings open. It was some guy from his team who he never really bothered to remember the name of. His gaze follows his teammate as he saunters over to his locker.

"Eh... but she's out helping the managers again." That's when his attention was truly caught. "She's what?" "Y'know... handing out bottles and stuff. You should ask her to become a manager too. She'll fit right in." Tsk.

Kaiser shakes his head and grabs the towel off of his head. He aimlessly chucks the piece of fabric to the side and gets up without another word.

His teammate watches—dumbfounded—at the lack of a response. "Hey, Kai-"

But as soon as he spoke, Kaiser was already out of the door.

He wasn't angry or annoyed that you showed up unannounced. Truthfully, he didn't know what he felt. There was a reason why he avoided bringing you or inviting you to his practices.

You were too kind for your own good and the people here aren't shy about taking advantage of you.

Kaiser was stuck between a rock and hard place. One on hand, he loved that you cared enough about him to go out of your way even help the management or even his team. He couldn't bring himself to scold anyone—especially not you. On another, he knew what they were doing to you. They pretended to be all nice and sweet when asking you favors. But don't they have any shame asking so much from you?

Just like what Mr. Forgettable Name said earlier, you were almost like a manager here. But, fuck that. You're supposed to be a guest. You're his girlfriend, so you deserve nothing but the best treatment.

Yet, here he was—watching you as you scurry around, handing water bottles to his... not teammates. What the hell were you even doing giving water to the second string players? Jesus. He wasn't even sure if they were on the second string.

The more he observed, the angrier he became. Someone better hold him back and tell him what he just witnessed wasn't what he thought because one of the players definitely handed you an empty bottle—which, of course, you threw in the trash for him.

Sure, he's probably tired from running all day and yeah, you were closer to the trash bin. But who the fuck does he think he is to ask you of something like that?

He didn't even notice that his legs moved on their own. His body wanted nothing but to walk over to you. Never mind what his heart was telling him.

"Hey."

You spun around, knowing whose voice it was that almost startled you. His bright blue eyes peered down at you and he seemed... a bit pissed.

"Sorry... I know I should've told you that I was coming today, but-" Kaiser sighs heavily, running his tattooed hand through his blonde locks. "Don't apologize. I'm not mad—I just..."

But he was—he was most definitely mad. Just not at you.

It was like the world was testing the limits of his patience today because damn was he not even able to finish his sentence without another person bothering you.

As Kaiser struggled to express himself, one of the managers taps you on your shoulder. She had on the fake smile she always wore whenever she'd ask you a favor.

"Can you go distribute the lunch for the players today? I just have some paperwork to go over. You know how it is... managers get busy~"

Before you could even respond, Kaiser steps forward—putting distance between you and the manager. "And why would she do that? Isn't that your job?"

You grabbed his arm, telling him that it's alright. In a way, his team and the people who manage it have become your friends. You appreciate them for taking care of your boyfriend while you're not there and you're grateful for their warm greetings whenever you walk past any of them.

There wasn't any issue in you helping these people... or so you thought.

The manager smiles nervously at Kaiser, but she doesn't back down. "Well... I mean... if she's willing to do it, right? What's the harm in that?"

Kaiser exhales audibly. This is why he doesn't confront this dynamic. The manager was partially right because his girlfriend was always willing to help no matter what. Now he looked like the bad guy here.

The conversation shifted to an awkward atmosphere. All three of them felt it. But she was the first to break the ice... as usual.

"Mihya, it's alright. I like helping out the team. Consider it as me helping you as well," she says, smiling warmly.

"Baby," he clicks his tongue. "Forgive me, but... how the hell does it help me when you hand out water and food to these third stringers?"

Your eyes widen. "Mihya! Tone it down; they'll hear you."

He scoffs. "So what? Let them hear it."

At this point, the manager had grown quiet, slowly distancing herself from the developing quarrel.

"I've had enough watching people like her," he says, pointing at the manager before she could escape, "take advantage of you."

"It's not your job to hand out lunch boxes to everyone nor is it your responsibility to make sure they're hydrated. Baby—you might as well wipe their sweat for them while you're at it," he adds.

As he released these pent up frustrations, he failed to notice the gradual increase in the volume of his voice. It wasn't just you and the manager hearing it—but everyone else on the field. Even those who were far away, ran over to the commotion.

Kaiser never gave up even a second for you to butt in. "Remember that time they asked you to run to the nearby convenience store to buy God-knows-what? Or that time you had to go with... with... whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is to the hospital?"

"It's Igor," a faint voice reminds him.

"Shut the fuck up!" he retorts. Kaiser sighs deeply, the realization that everyone else was listening finally dawning on him. "What I'm trying to say is that... I'm just tired of seeing you be used like that, especially since I know how pure your heart is and all that," he says, softly.

He wanted the last part to be heard only by you. After all, you were the only one that mattered to him at the moment.

You were... well... staring at him in awe. Speechless. Unmoving. Stunned.

You were clueless to how he felt. Sure, they did ask too much of you. But you didn't think Kaiser was observing you to that degree. Your heart melted at his personal show of affection right in front of everyone.

"Mihya..."

You felt stupid that you could only mutter his name despite everything he had said. But before you could do anything else, his large hand grabs on to your wrist—pulling you along with him. His strides were purposeful and his grasp was firm. You hurriedly shuffled to keep up with his pace.

After gaining some distance from the group, Kaiser halts and turns to look back at them one last time.

"If I see any of you ask a favor from her again—I'll make sure to deal with you."

A promise and a threat.

He yanks you again and continues walking away. Overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events, you try to stop him despite his strength. "Hey... slow down. Let's talk... please?"

Kaiser blatantly ignores you, only stopping once you were inside of the facility and away from prying eyes. The firm grip that once wrapped around your wrist was replaced by a gentle caress as he brought your hand to his lips.

"Sorry... I got carried away. You know I can't let them do tha-"

"It's okay. I understand. Thank you for standing up for me," you say, cutting him off.

He blinks a couple of times, surprised at how well you took it. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad at my boyfriend protecting me?"

You couldn't help but giggle at him. How silly would it be for you to get angry at him right now? What he did was one of the sweetest things anyone could do for someone; not everyone is brave enough to stand up for their significant other like that.

His look of astonishment was quickly replaced with a small smile. "I guess you're right, baby."

And before you know it, you were already caged in his warm embrace.

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