#maybe i'll do this for other things as well?

[milawritess]

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow — Gojo Satoru

pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

synopsis: crushed by the pressure of his work, Satoru and the reader's relationship begins to spiral. You do everything you can to make him happy, but you fear it's not enough. Maybe it never was. After a miscalculation that could have resulted in innocent lives being lost, the situation takes a turn for the worse.

Word count: 17k+ (I'm sorry in advance)

genre: heavy angst with happy ending

warnings: heavy angst, swearing, reader is a motherly figure to Megumi but their relationship is a bit strained, mentions of depression and self-doubt, reader is a sorcerer, fighting, insecurity, arguments, and breakups (?), descriptions of gore, mentions of sexual intercourse (mdni), depictions of a complicated and untraditional relationship, reader gets hurt, hardly edited/proofread (oops), gojo is fed up and mean :(

a/n: this is the first and longest thing I've ever posted on here lol. I felt like there was a lack of sorcerer!reader, so I played around with that concept a little bit. other than potentially shitty writing (sorry for any typos or grammatical errors), I truly hope you enjoy <3

“Get out.”

The hash sentiment lingers, hanging heavily in the air. 

“Well, hello to you too.”

He hears your feet shuffle across the floor as you stumble to take your shoes and coat off. “I just came to check on you.”

“And I’m fine,” he responds without moving, one arm up, draping over his aching eyes. He lies on the living room couch, one lanky leg propped up at an angle.

“You’re clearly not fine,” you respond, seeming unphased. “Have you eaten anything?” You ask, waiting for a response that never comes. “Okay, I’ll make your favorite ramen.” 

He feels the side of the couch dip, your hand settling on his chest. Your fingers were greedy like you couldn’t stop yourself from playing with the fabric or caressing his taut muscles. Your voice is gentler when you speak this time. “Do you want an ice pack? Some tea?”

You two have done this dance before. You come home to find him exhausted, overworked with a migraine that could tranquilize an elephant. And just like always, you carefully slip his shoes off and unbutton the sleek black jacket to his uniform. It’s hard for him to stay mad about anything when you’re this kind, this caring. 

“Satoru, please say something.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

Your voice was so gentle. So sweet, saccharine, and so fucking patient. A voice you only ever reserved for him and for his ears only. A gentle whisper carried in a gentle breeze. It was his favorite sound. 

But not tonight. 

So you try something else. Sweet kisses along the corner of his lips. You’re even bold enough to move his arm, the arm he was using to desperately block out any light or simulation. You kiss his eyelids, his forehead, and cheeks—feather-light. Your hand slides up his chest before reaching his face. You caress your thumb under his closed eyes, and your other hand finds his hair, gently massaging his temple. He has all of you. Every bit. 

“Let me take care of you.” If it were any other night, your breath fanning his neck would have shattered him; goosebumps would have wrecked his body, he’d shiver, and everything in him would ease, and all of his stress would slip away into nothingness. He never had to be the strongest with you. You would render him down to nothing but a simple man with just a few words. “You don’t look too good, honey. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” For a woman so strong in your own right, a woman of unyielding dignity and poise and unwavering determination to succeed, this is his favorite side of you. 

But not tonight. 

When his hand clasps your wrist, he feels your whole body freeze against his. Maybe you were surprised. Maybe you predicted this and were preparing yourself but-

The tongue-lashing dies in his throat when he opens his eyes. Just a peak to your face makes him falter. You were pouting. Worried. “I’m fine.” it’s harsher than you deserve but kinder than the thoughts swirling through his head a second ago. 

He’s agitated. Stuck in the same old system that continues to fuck him over—his students over. 

And yet, you just looked too beautiful. 

You pull away, finally taking the hint. Then, you stand, fully removing yourself from him and stepping away. Your body heat quickly disappears from where you once sat, and he quivers. The room was quiet once again. 

The room remained quiet even as you placed a hot bowl of ramen on the table beside him, a glass of water, and two pills. 

You slept alone that night. 

-

You remember when you first met Megumi. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

You never would have expected that to be the the words from a child you had just met. You raised a brow. “Well, aren’t you a fucking, brat?” 

You were different back then—colder, angrier. You were similar in that sense.

Oddly enough, maybe that’s what gravitated him to you.  

You’re not sure when it happened, but gradually, the harsh edges of you began to… change. Not entirely softened, as thorns remained, but you bloomed, red petals and all. You grew softer, kinder, more patient—and finally—your heart had made space for others. The fear of loss remained, but you had never cared for someone so fragile. No one had ever cried for you, reached for you with small chubby fingers, or depended on you as he once had. You never had someone in your life that needed to be nurtured, protected, and guided. 

He was just a boy. 

Over time, you realized that if you remained unchanged, perhaps he would never grow into the man he needed to be. You’re not sure why he picked you, why he looked up to you of all people, but he did. He found comfort in you and followed you like a little duckling with a little waddle and permanent scowl. 

There wasn't a rhyme or reason. He chose you, and you chose him. 

Soon enough, you were waking him up for school, running your hands through his messy, dark locks. You were making him bento boxes, running to parent-teacher conferences, and having hard but meaningful conversations with him in his room about his troubling behavior. 

Then you were hugging him as he cried, as he revealed the same dark thoughts you once had about yourself. 

You wished this world wasn’t so cruel, so dark. You hope that in a different life, he would have grown into a normal kid, with hopes and dreams and a list of things he wanted to do and go out and experience. You didn’t want him to be shackled to a world that’s left you so scarred.

You fought for any sense of normality you could give him. If that meant confronting the higher-ups, so be it. At times, you even confronted Satoru. 

He was just a boy. 

Fire never harmed you;  it never dared to scorch your skin. You commanded and held domination over nearly every flicker of heat. He was so small when you met him; you remember the first time you saw his small form shiver in the cold. It made you anxious. Despite buying him the heaviest winter coat you could find, you were beside yourself, always wondering—is he warm enough? 

But, long were the days of you bundling him up in his jacket, tying his shoes, and tugging beanies over his dark hair and red ears. Long were the days of you clasping his little hands in yours to bring them warmth when the air grew too bitter. He grew older, smarter, wiser, and stronger. The boy that used to cling to your skirt after a hard day at school now stood inches taller than you. 

You knew that one day he’d leave you, and you were okay with that. Seeing him so ready for the world made you happy. You worried—of course you still worried—but you were so proud. He was hesitant, unsure at times, and sometimes even looked back to you for assurance. 

You were always there, smiling, ushering him along. 

You can do it. I believe in you. 

You grew up together, you think. Sometimes, you wondered if he ever paid for your shortcomings, or if he remembered your failures as a caregiver, but just like you did him, he’d assure you with a soft nudge and a gentle smile. 

He knows you did the best you could with what you had.  

He was just a boy. 

Your boy. 

He wasn’t yours, but you loved him like he was. Only as he grew did you realize the lines you had crossed. 

He doesn’t remember his mother, but you’re sure he remembered her smile, perhaps her touch, or the sound of her laughter. You never meant to impose on her memory.

When it happened, he had just gotten into Tokyo Jujutsu High, and Satoru took him on his first official mission. You no longer had the means of pushing this off; you couldn’t beg Satoru or the higher-ups for another month, another week, another day. Megumi wasn’t a normal kid. He was a sorcerer and needed to start fulfilling his duties and mastering his technique.

“You can’t avoid the inevitable. You can’t protect him forever,” Satoru had once told you. 

You knew he was right. 

You stayed home that day, anxious and worried, but you knew Megumi would be alright. Satoru was with him. Even if the tall man was a bit harder on Megumi than you, you knew he’d keep him safe. 

However, your worst fears came to fruition. Megumi wasn’t the same after that mission. 

You remember. Satoru’s eyes were stern that night while Megumi's eyes never left the floor as he made his way to his room. 

You remember thinking—what could I do to make my boys happy again? 

After all, they were your everything, the reason you stood here now with a full heart. Things were newer for you and Satoru then, but he kissed you that night, warm, large hands gently holding your cheeks. He missed you a little bit extra that day. You were nervous, hesitant to fall into the sanctuary of his embrace, but it was only a matter of time until you were fully, devotedly his.

 “Are you okay?” You had asked, only for him to nod his head. 

“Yeah. Of course, I am, angel. Megumi is shaken up, but he’ll be alright too.” 

You made Megumi’s favorite dinner that night—the same beefsteak he’s raved about since he was only six. Well, he never raved, but you perfectly remember the first time you made it, which happened to be the first time he tried it. He could barely get his chin over the table to scope his food into his mouth. He wasn’t good with chopsticks yet, so he used a little fork, which he held in his tiny fist. His little eyebrows raised before dipping down, creasing at the inner corners as he concentrated on the flavor. He murmured it’s good, and you remember being so proud of yourself. That was one of the first times you felt that you were doing something right by him. You made the same dish on occasion, and time only helped you perfect the recipe. 

Megumi never came out of his room that night. The lights were off when you knocked. Even after hearing no response, you had cracked open the door, poking your head inside. 

“Gumiii,” you stepped into his room. He was on his bed, groaning as you flicked the light on. He turned his back to you. “I made your favoriteee.”  

You had sat on the edge of his bed, a hot plate of food in your hands. “C’mon, it’s the beefsteak you like. Nice and warm.”

“‘m not hungry,” he had grumbled. 

You sighed. “The mission must have been unpleasant.” He remained still. “I’m sorry, Gumi. Satoru said you did well! I’m proud of you—” he flinched from your touch, snapping his arm away from your reach. You froze, having felt the coldness of his rejection. “If you don’t want to talk about the mission, how was your first day at your new school?” You asked. “Do you have any classmates you like?”

“Just quit it already…” he had murmured. “I’m not in the mood.”

Your shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re okay. My first mission was tough too, and you already know I wasn’t great at making friends either–” you winced, biting your tongue.  This was coming out all wrong. “… are you okay, Megumi?” 

“I’m fine!” He clipped, pushing himself upright in bed. “Just leave me alone and stop acting like you’re my mom already!”  

You remembered—and just the memory of that night shambled your heart. You could never forget the hurt those words caused and how you couldn’t show it. 

You had smiled wearily. Then, you placed his dinner on his desk. “…you’re right,” you echoed. “I’m not her, never could be. I’m sorry if I imposed. I never meant to.”

You never spoke of the incident, but you remembered that things were tense between Satoru and Megumi for a short while after that. You told Satoru to drop it, but you had a feeling the poor boy received a tongue-lashing from Satoru. You were never sure, though, and you could never prove it. 

You just remembered feeling cracks in the foundation of the home you never knew you had so carefully crafted, brick by brick. Some of the warmth was gone—a warmth you never knew was quite there until it wasn’t. 

Little by little, you pulled back. Megumi moved into the student dorms shortly after, and he needed you less and less. You no longer made him bento boxes or his favorite beefsteak. You bit your tongue with the lectures: Megumi, that’s not nice, or Megumi, you need to have more faith in yourself. You can do it.  

Though the bitter bite of cold never entirely touched you, heated by an unquenchable fame, you pulled back your hand when you reached for him. He left you seared—burned. 

You still worried. You never knew if you were giving him too much or not enough. So, you left most of the mentoring to Satoru now.  It’s been a few months since the incident, and now you only ever speak to him if he approached you first. 

That's why you were happy when you spotted him in town. You offered him a small, shy wave. He unexpectedly approached you and asked how you were and what you’d been up to. However, the most unexpected part was when he asked if you were busy. You shook your head, and it was impossible to hide you beam when he offered to get you hot chocolate from the same coffee shop you used to take him to after school in the colder months.

However, it seemed you weren’t the only one confused by Satoru’s recent behavior. 

“Huh?”

“Gojo didn’t want me going on my mission,” Megumi reiterated. 

You blink a few times, tapping your fingers against the styrofoam cup in your hands. “Huh. He’s never done that before.”

“He doesn’t think I’m ready. He took the mission himself.”

“He said that? That he doesn’t think you’re ready?”

“Well… not exactly.” He scowls slightly, looking down at the cup of hot chocolate. “But he damn well implied it.”

“Gumi,” you frown at the boy. He doesn’t make eye contact with you; he looks forward now, gazing out the window and watching the fresh snow coat the ground. 

He was upset. 

“He could’ve at least taken me with him.”

For a moment, you see that same little boy you met over ten years ago and that same dejected look on his face after being let down one too many times. It breaks your heart. 

“If Satoru took the mission and went alone, I’m sure it’s for a good reason.”

He wants to say more but opts for something quick and sweet. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You have to do something. Quick. Anything to make him a bit happier. “I have a mission later in Osaka. I’ll be catching the 2 pm train. Wanna come? I could use the extra help.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking, you presume, but he nods. “Yeah, sure. I don’t have anything else to do.” 

“Great! And just so you know, we’ll probably be dealing with a grade one or two.” 

He pauses momentarily before calmly asking, “And you need help with that?”

“Uh, yeah. Any help is much appreciated. Plus, I haven’t seen you much recently.” You smile brightly, and he turns his head, eyes finding the ground, looking a little bashful. 

“About that…” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave him off. “You’ve been busy with school, and I know that.”

“But that’s not–”

“It’s okay, Megumi,” you smile again, resisting the urge to reach across the table and gently squeeze his hand. “I get it.”

He gives you a look, a small disgruntled scowl. He wanted to say more.

“Alrighty then.” You stand, stretching from sitting in the chair. “I’ll buy you another hot chocolate for the road. We should probably start getting ready to leave.”

-

The mission goes well. An abandoned warehouse in Osaka conjured up a nasty looking grade three, but Megumi held his own just fine—like you expected. He’s grown much stronger and more sure of himself. You’re proud. Seeing how far he’s come certainly puts a smile on your face. He’s not a little boy anymore, you realized. He’s growing into a fine young man. 

Urg. Stop getting emotional. 

However, after stopping for a later dinner, you both arrived home late, around nine or so. 

“You did good tonight, Megumi,” you tell him for the nth time. 

He rolls his eyes, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. “You’ve told me that already.”

“I know, I know. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of you. You’re getting so much stronger.”

Instead of brushing you off like all the other times, he sighs before offering a forced “thanks.” 

“Alrighty then. Try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you and the others sometime tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sounds good. Get back home safe.”

You nod, smiling. You make sure to watch him as he goes, making sure he gets inside before turning around. He’s capable of taking care of himself, but some habits never grow old. Making sure he gets inside anywhere safely has always been something you’ve prioritized, whether he was going to a friend's house, school, or boarding the train. 

You loved him like your own, but you knew he wasn't. After all, it was only a few months ago now that he reminded you that he wasn't yours.

You’re not my mom. 

It hurt—it still does—but you never held it against him. You still loved him nevertheless. Your relationship might have shifted but it doesn’t negate the fact that you care for him and would gladly give your life if it meant keeping him safe. 

Then, there was Kugisaki and Itadori—two others slowly weaseling their way into your heart. They’ve helped Megumi so much; he might be too proud to admit it, but they’ve helped him come out of his shell; they were his friends, and you knew they had each other backs. 

You sigh, a translucent cloud of white floating up and above your head. Just like always, your thoughts shift to blue eyes. Satoru. You’ve missed him today. No calls or obnoxious spam texts. It’s not unusual per se, especially when he gets busy. Regardless, you missed him.

But, something is bothering you. He wasn't communicating with you and he usually tells you these things. Even if he didn't have the time to tell you something right away, he'd eventually find a moment to talk to you. This time around, he didn’t. He didn't tell you he was leaving or about the whole ordeal with Megumi.

He just got up and left. You woke to a cold bed and an empty house. No text message, no note with a silly doodle. When you called him in the morning, it went right to voicemail. Eventually, when you pull up your shared text messages to check for anything new, you only saw the message you sent him from the day before. At a loss, you type out a quick message. You didn't think it would make things better, but at least it was something.

I hope you have a good day today :) 

It was all you could really muster up after last night. He seemed so agitated, and so fed up. You blamed it on stress; he isn’t usually like that. Usually, his touch was careful, calculated as if you were fixed of glass. You missed his lame jokes and mischievous grins when he was up to no good. You weren't offered any of that last night. Or the night before. Even the night before that. 

You’re starting to worry. 

He always bounces back so quickly. The only thing that typically gets him this mad are the higher-ups. Which, in Megumi's case, makes sense. You can see why Gojo would intervene if they gave him a dangerous mission. 

But why didn’t he take Megumi with him, at least?

Hm.. maybe it was beyond Megumi's skill set. Would the elders be stupid enough to set him up? They did it to you long ago, but they wouldn’t be bold enough to do it to the boy with the ten shadows technique, would they?

Or maybe Satoru… just doesn’t want to be near you?

Urg. You roll your eyes at your own selfish thoughts. Satoru wouldn’t do something like that. He’s already overworked as it is. Maybe you should make him something. A nice dinner? Or maybe he needed a pick-me-up? Kikufuku? You’re sure you could find the recipe online. 

You're torn, so you decide to make both. Maybe you'll even put on a nice dress. 

You decide to call him, and after a few rings, he answers. “Hey, honey,” you say sweetly, happy he even bothered to answer your call. "I was wondering when you’d be home tonight. I want to make you a nice dinner.”

He’s quiet again—too quiet. “Dinner? Tonight?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been so busy lately. I figured you’d like that.” 

He hums into the phone, sounding a bit lighter. “Dinner does sound nice…” 

Your smile widens. You could hear the underlying stress in his tone; it was flatter than usual, but at least he was trying. “... I’ll even put on your favorite dress?” 

He chuckles a bit. “Tempting, but I’ll probably have to leave after dinner.”

“Oh,” you murmur, wincing slightly at the rejection. Maybe you’ve gotten too spoiled—too accustomed to him pushing off his responsibilities all for the sake of spending a few more moments with you. Were you being too greedy?  “Are you okay? They’re not stretching you too thin, are they?”

He sighs in a carefree tone. “I'm doing fine. Same old thing, just a different day,” is all he offers, but you can tell he’s withholding. 

“I can help, y’know,” you offer gently. “If you have too many missions, I can take a few off your plate.”

“Nah,” he tells you a bit arrogantly. “It’s better if I handle it.”

Now you’re really starting to feel the distance. He usually reserves the softer parts of him for you. You suppose he just didn’t have the patience to do so right now. “You, uh, got into it with the higher-ups I heard,” you mention, trying to keep the conversation going but approaching from a different angle. “Megumi was telling me you even took his mission. I think he was a bit upset you didn’t take him with you. How come you never told me?”

“How come you never told me you were going to Osaka? Or the fact that you took him with you?”

Your stomach twists, unease bubbling in your chest. You didn’t like where this was heading. “I– it’s never bothered you before,” you manage, though your voice falters, dying down into nothing but a whisper. “And it’s not like you’ve been… wanting to speak to me recently. I haven't had the time to tell you much of anything," your trail off, your voice slowly fading before you begin again. "Did I do something to make you mad?”

The silence that follows is unbearable—longer than you ever imagined it could be. “Satoru… Please just talk to me.”

“I gotta go,” his tone is cold, clipped, and final. 

There’s a click as he hangs up, and the silence becomes deafening and threateningly absolute.

-

You realize you miss the way he used to look at you. Not the way he'd gaze at you, but in the way he would gaze into you, as though you were ever the only thing that ever really mattered.

After your last conversation with him, you were unsteady. You hated how you stayed in bed for hours, analyzing everything he's said to you recently, dissecting his every action. You hated how needy you suddenly felt, even while laying there, in his bed, in his clothes. He paused just a second too long before answering you now, as if he had to must up the courage and energy to do so. His laugh no longer came out easily. Others might miss it, but you never could. It was still rambunctious, taking up a whole room, but to you, it felt forced, brittle even. You've known Satoru at his best, and you've also known him at his worst.

When he looks at you now, you wonder if he's really seeing you. Painfully, you realize you haven't seen him; not without his eyeband on at least. Last night you did, for the first time in a while, but he seemed agitated.

The worst part was that you didn't know how to bring yourself to confront him. You struggled, unsure which pretty words and cadence would unluck the distance between you two.

Did something happen on one of his missions? Was he stressed? Had the higher-ups pushed him too far, testing his patience?

Or was it you? Was this somehow your fault?

Did you scare him away? Have you said too much, cared too deeply, loved too loudly?

You weren't sure, but you had to try something.

You were grateful you were cooking him dinner tonight on your day off. It was the least you could do, and you adored taking care of him. You choose hot pot, something you and Satoru have tried at home before. It took over a few hours to prepare, but it was worth it. You made two broths, you sliced up shabu-shabu and wagyu beef and even went to the extent of watching a video to make a dipping sauce. Unfortunately, you forgot one of the ingredients for the kikufuku mochi and didn’t want to risk making something he didn’t entirely like. Luckily, you had spare time to run down to the kikufuku store right before it closed. Of course, you grabbed all his favorite, two boxfuls, in fact. He was a big guy, so you hoped you had more than enough food for him to indulge.

You and Satoru were together. Though he never outright asked you to be his, you knew. It was an unspoken thing, and you were content with that. For as goofy and eccentric as that man could be, it was rather surprising how he was never outright with what he was actually feeling. 

He was damn good at showing it, though. In more ways than one. 

You feel it in the way he’d always reach for you after a nightmare. Shaking, needy hands tightly clasping at your waste, fearful of you disappearing and slipping to a place where he could not reach you. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow. Please. His face would nuzzle into your neck, sharply inhaling your scent. You’d hold him, whispering endless promises. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Or it's okay. Breathe, my love. I’m with you. 

You feel it on the nights he’d pin you beneath him, his grunts and moans echoing in your ears as he fills you so completely. He’d beg, no demand you—tell me you’re mine. Only mine. 

And, of course, you’d eagerly nod, overwhelmed with the pleasure only he could strum out of you so perfectly. ‘m yours. All of me—yours. 

You feel it in his protective gaze, his eagerness to hold you in the life vest of his arms. You felt it late into the night, damp bodies pressed against one another; low lighting, quiet laughter, and secrets revealed. His dreams, his wishes, his what ifs—the parts of him that no one knew or considered. Or when he handed you a silver key with a handsome and cheshire grin. What do you say? He was lovely, every bit of him, especially his gentle and selfless heart that you would never take for granted like the rest of the world seemed to. 

You feel it when he comes home from overseas and how his strong arms hold onto you just a bit longer, a bit tighter. You feel it with how he smiles into your neck or that one time at the airport when he lifted you up and spun you around, uncaring who saw. 

You feel it in the way that it was unspoken. You feel it in his cursed energy and how it perfectly intertwined with yours, reaching for you, comforting you when his hands could not. You especially feel it in the necklace he gifted you—the one your fingers were playing with now: a silver chain with cerulean sapphires, the same breathtaking shade of his eyes. His cursed energy, carefully imbued into the stones, was like carrying a piece of him with you—always, wherever you may go, and it rests directly above your beating heart. 

He might not voice it, but you feel it. He loved you. And you certainly loved him. 

So when had it become so hard to reach him? Why does he seem so intangible all of a sudden? Something deep and unsettling blooms in your stomach. 

And now that you think about it…

When was the last time you two did any of that? When was the last time his careful hands caressed you?

Only Satoru could make you this worried or make you feel this displaced. A sense of panic strikes you, and you pull out your phone to text him when you realize he’s thirty minutes late. Usually, that wouldn’t bother you, but–

After only three rings, you're sent to voicemail. When you check his location, he’s at the high school. Should you check on him? Or would that make him… mad?

He toru! Dinners ready. When do you think you’ll be home? Miss you. 

You bite your lip. He quickly read your message, but those three little bubbles never show up. 

Nothing. Just nothing. 

Maybe he’s staying up late writing the report for his latest mission? 

“eek!” Your phone pings, and after a round of hot potato, you see he’s texted you back. 

Only to be met with more disappointment. 

Dealing with something urgent. Don’t wait up. 

You frown, knowing you should drop it, but you can’t. 

Satoru…

He’s typing faster now. What?

You pause, thumbs hovering over letters you hesitate to type. What’s going on? You’ve been off lately. 

I’m fine. Just busy. 

Do you want me to bring you dinner to the High School?

Those three bubbles appear and disappear more times than you can count. No. I said don’t wait up. 

You know I don't sleep well without you.

He responds in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Your patience is wearing thin for the first time since this ordeal started. Are you saying you won’t be coming home tonight? 

You’re offered no response. He doesn’t even open your message. For the second night, you lay in a cold bed. Except, Satoru doesn’t come home. 

Only he could fracture you so completely. 

-

During your next mission, you brought the whole trio along. According to the report you were handed, you were only dealing with a grade three, but there was also an Infestation in the area. You could use the backup.

You had initially asked Megumi, but once Yuji caught wind, he was adamant that he tagged along, and, according to Nobora she had nothing else better to do. 

“Are you guys sure? It’s your day off.”

Yuji shrugs, both arms up, hands up and behind his head. “Yeah, I’m game.”

“Me too,” Nobora voices with a small glint in her eyes. “I got something new I want to try out anyway. We didn’t get to go on a mission last week as it is.”

You paused. "Huh? Gojo didn’t take you on any?”

“Nah,” Yuji shakes his head. “I think he’s been busy or something.” He looks at Kugisaki. “Hasn’t Gojo-Sensei seemed a little… off?”

Nobora nods. “Uh yeah. He hasn’t been himself at all. We figured you’d know something,” Nobora says, curious eyes scanning you. 

“Huh… I’m not sure. We haven’t gotten around to talking lately.”

Megumi hums, though it sounds more suspicious than his usual passive tone. 

Though they weren’t necessarily your students, you figured there was no harm in taking them. You've done it before and having them around was always like a breath of fresh air—reminding you of why Satoru dedicates himself so fully to his cause and being a teacher. They give you a reason to get stronger and keep fighting. You loved these kids and all their bickering. 

Except, this mission doesn’t go anything like you had expected. The report was wrong—a grade two was ambling through the abandoned schoolhouse. That was fine; the four of you were more than enough to kill it. The infestation was a bit overwhelming, but you had their backs, and they were nothing but pesky small curses lower than a grade four. 

Everything went well when the ambush happens. You all saw it: right in front of your eyes, a grade one emerging from the shadows, born into something nasty. It's skin oozed a sickly black slime that clung to its misshapen body. Its face—or lack there of—was dark and amorphous, split by a jagged maw that stretched impossibly wide, revealing rows of sharp serrated teeth, ready to cut and slash through flesh like a meat grinder. Other that is daunting appearance, the only other notable thing about it was its speed.

You told the kids to back down, but it was already too late. They were already involved, stuck in the heat of battle and fighting as a seamless unite. They were more than capable of standing on their own. 

But you needed them out of here. Your obligation was to protect them no matter how eager they were to help. However, before you could think of your next move, the curse made one last self-preserving attack. It opened in wide jaws, releasing several red beamed energy blast aimed directly at stone pillars. 

You had no time to think, only react. In an instant, you surged forward towards the trio, faster than their eyes could react. Grunting, you knocked them back, glass shattering as you kicked them through a window. You felt the impact ripple through your body, fully knowing you knocked the wind out of Megumi and Yuji. However, they recovered quickly, their instincts sharp enough to catch Nobora–

Right in time before the building collapsed. 

The building groaned like a wounded beast, its entire frame buckling from lack of support. Stone walls crumbled into clouds of dust and debris, windows shattered in explosive bursts, steel beams twisted and snaped with sickening shrieks. The ground trembled violently as the structure gave way, collapsing into a chaotic heap of concrete, rubble, and smoke, swallowing everything beneath. Including you.

You survived. Reinforcing your body with cursed energy made you strong enough to withstand the impact, and your heavenly restriction certainly helped. Nevertheless, you still took on quite a bit of damage from the tons of metal and concrete.

You woke up under the rubble with a startling gasp, choking on the dust. Were you out for a few seconds? Minutes? You were unsure, but the only thing pushing you to stand was the panic coated in Megumi’s voice. He was calling for you, and so were the others. You could hear the strain in their voices, the utter distraught. You healed your broken leg and the gash on the corner of your forehead, ceasing your gushing blood. You gathered yourself and your strength before pushing. They found you quickly after that, noticing a heap of rubble moving. They ran, rushing to help you push back concrete that threatened to suffocate you. You never did like tight spaces. 

Thankfully, you were alright. The kids were safe as well.

However, the curse had escaped. Megumi was visibly shaken, his fingernail cracked, bruised, and bleeding from digging urgently through the rubble to find you. 

Everyone was on edge. It wasn't their fault you didn't react quickly enough. You were more than capable; maybe that's why the failure stung so much.

You let yourself down. You let them down.

You were spiraling into a dark place quickly. The guilt threatened to swallow you whole. Gojo was still nowhere to be seen. You didn't have the strength to call him. You’re not sure what you could even say. You’ve fucked up before, but never to this extent. Not to where a whole building collapsed. 

“Good morning. A tragic incident occurred last night when an abandoned school collapsed around 7 pm. Authorities are currently investigating the cause, and preliminary reports suggest that the collapse could have been due to a structural weakness—one of the many reasons why the school was abandoned in the first place. We will continue to monitor the situation as more information becomes available–"

Megumi gently grabs your phone and locks your screen. Wordlessly, he shakes his head before pocketing your device. You’re too exhausted to ask for it back. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sensei?” Yuji's voice was soft, the first voice to break the ice. You look up from your hands, unsure how long you’ve been lost in thought. You force a small smile as you gaze at the three kids. You were sitting across from them in the waiting area outside the council room. 

“I’m alright. Are you guys?"

“We’re all fine,” Megumi cuts in quickly. “We’re– we’re more than okay.”

“That's good,” you trail off. “That's really good.”

Uncertainty hung dangerously in the air. What happened now? You were okay, but for how long? 

You knew you were in for a lashing with all the collateral damage you caused. It was supposed to be a simple mission. This wasn't supposed to happen. You four were fine, but did anyone else get hurt? 

You flinch at your own thought. You don't think you could live with yourself if innocent lives were lost.

“Sensei?” Yuji's soft, unsure voice cuts in once more. When your eyes make contact, he smiles brightly. You can tell it’s forced. “After this, wanna go get something to eat? There’s this great sandwich shop down the street!”

“Y–yeah!” Nobora sits up straight after being less than conspicuously nudged by Yuji. “It’s pretty good. We went the other day–”

The council room door creaked open. The higher-ups were waiting, shrouded in shadows and faces hidden. Even if you couldn't see them, the tension was palpable. Even without seeing them directly, you could sense their anger, smell it as it rolled off of them in a quiet, unspoken fury. You glance at the kids once more, this time with a gentle, reassuring smile curling at your lips. 

Everything would be okay.  

-

Everything was, in fact, not okay. 

The air was heavy as you entered your office. Your limbs ached, your head throbbed, and every breath felt like dragging glass through your lungs. You had thought the worst of it was over, and slowly, you felt your body begin to shut down, but only when there were no prying eyes to see how you compensated for your injuries. Even after using RCT, you had a limp—your bones were mended but not quite right. Your head was no longer bleeding—but still, you weren't quite right. 

You dismiss it as exhaustion; after all, you had just learned RCT not too long ago. Maybe you missed something. However, this wasn’t anything you couldn't handle on your own. You could see Shoko, but why bother her? You’ve endured far worse. Dealing with a sore body and a headache for the next few days wasn’t out of your jurisdiction. 

When you open the door, a flickering lamplight reveals a tall frame standing by your desk. Even before your eyes dance upon his sharp and still silhouette, the air shifts—your soul already knows he is there. Satoru.

But, his eyes never meet yours; you weren’t blessed enough to see them, a bright blue illuminating in the absence of light. His eyes were covered with a familiar dark cloth. However, you didn’t need to see them to know that the usual warmth they held as he gazed upon you was gone. In its place was a coldness that turned your stomach.

“Satoru–”

“I know,” he says, voice clipped as he turns to face you. “I read the reports.” Your heart sinks as he haphazardly tosses the report down to your desk. 

You’re exhausted, unsure of where to even begin. So many questions floated in your weary mind. Where were you? When did you get here? Please, don’t be mad at me. 

It’s funny how all your dignity, poise, and strength to endure are gone with him. You already took one berating from the elders, and you’re not sure you could handle another. 

Not from him. 

“But, I want to hear it from you.” He stepped closer, his height making him all the more domineering. “What happened out there? And how the hell are my students caught up in all of this?”

“The report was wrong. It was a grade two, not three, but we handled that just fine. We cleared out the area and completed the mission, but we were ambushed. A grade one appeared, destroyed the pillars, and–” You hesitate, unable to form the words. “Well, you know what happened.” He’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. “I–I did everything I could, Satoru. The students were fine, but the curse got away.”

“Everything you could?" His voice echoes. "I don’t need excuses. Certainly not from you. You endangered them—all of them. They’re not even your students!” He snapped, his voice rising in a way you’ve never heard before.

You bite back the lump forming in your throat. “I thought you, out of anyone, would understand the circumstances.”

“...Understand?” He utters back, a quiet fury rolling off him in waves. 

 “I made sure that–”

“You failed,” he snaps, voice laced with malice. “Enough. Just stop it. You were reckless and went behind my back, and you let a pathetic grade one get the best of you.”

Your chest tightened, crumbling at the weight of his tone. “Went behind your back? I did no such thing.”

“They could have been hurt because of you!” You visibly flinch, his words carrying more weight than the debris that had buried you—broken bones and all. 

“I’m recommending you be demoted to grade two.” 

What?

“You can’t do that. Satoru, you can’t–”

“I can,” he said coldly. “and I will. You failed, and not only did you fail, you went behind my back and involved my students. Your recklessness caused this,” disdain coats his voice, and he sucks his teeth. “I was gone for two fucking seconds, and you damn near ruined everything. People could have died. My students could have been injured. So stop being a nuisance and just do as you're told from here on out.”

No. 

No, no, no, no. 

You fought for years to get to grade one. A woman with a name of no renown—this society was never in favor of you; the system was set up for you only to fail time and time again. For years, you were held at grade three, then grade two, all because of your name’s sake—all because you were a woman. You didn’t have the luxury of being as good as other sorcerers; you had the burden to be better. 

Even now, at grade one, they continue to undermine you and undervalue you. You knew you didn’t have room to make mistakes, for they would tarnish every bit of good you have done. You thought Satoru understood that. You thought he viewed you as an equal, someone strong enough to stand by him. You thought he valued you, respected you. 

You never thought a mistake, a stupid mistake, would lead to this. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. 

“This has nothing to do with my rank. You don’t believe me. You don't trust me. After everything–”

Hearing his scornful laugh, your vision begins to blur. “Don’t make this personal. You fucked up, and now I have to clean up your mess.”

Your ears begin ringing. The pounding in your head becomes too much and threatens to crack your skull open once more.

“But it is, isn’t it?” You whisper. How could it not be personal with how he's been treating you for days? “You haven't been able to look at me in weeks. You speak to me as if I’ve become nothing but a burden to you—a nuisance. What did I do to deserve this?”

He remains silent, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he grits his teeth. Point proven.

Your heart painfully twists with each beat. “Do you even… care about me anymore?” You’re not sure why you say it, why the words slip past your lips, but they do.

He read the report and he hadn't even asked if you were okay. Maybe it was a selfish thought, but it makes your chest ache. You just wanted to go home, crawl in bed and hold him. However, you knew that wasn't in the cards right now.

“Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

Your voice finally wavers before him, cracking as you press on, desperate for him to understand—desperate to have him by your side as he has been for so many years.

“You’re casting me aside like I’m... worthless."

It was cruelty, a quiet and deafening insult for him to demote you of your status—but more specifically, your place beside him. That hurt runs deep, to the point that feelings of betrayal start seeping into your veins, poisoning you, antagonizing you. Belittling you. It was a sharp dagger you never expected—searing with a hatred that threatened to cripple you. This wasn’t just about your position. He was a man of unchallenged stature, of the highest status and regard, lowering you, demeaning you with his every word, every action. 

When did things go so wrong?

Yet, even now, you question yourself. Were you being dramatic? Were you taking this too personally? Were you being selfish?

Because he was right. Every word he's said so far was right. You failed. You put them in danger.

You stand there, a hollow feeling growing in your chest. The sting of Satoru’s words cut deeper than any blade you’ve faced. His jaw tightened, his gaze hard as steel and cold as ice. “You gave me what I never asked for.”

“Don't you dare!” You snap, finger trembling as you point his way with an accusatory jab. “Don’t you dare pretend this is nothing.  You know me better than anyone. How could I not take this personally? I’ve done nothing but stand by you, love you, trust you–”

“Like I said, I never asked for any of that,” he utters sharply, his carefully composed exterior shattering. “Whatever we were was nothing more than fucking convenience.” 

Suddenly, he stops, freezing at the onslaught of his own lethal words. His next words seemed to die in his throat. The damage was done. 

Exhausted, defeated, numb. His words hit you like a death blow. “... Convenience?” Echoing the very word that came from his lips—a sound you hardly recognize comes from your mouth, a small slip of the anguish tormenting and swelling in your body escapes. 

The necklace around your neck, the very one he had given you, seemed to pulse against your skin, warm and alive. It carried a piece of him, a piece of you, a guiding hand in the absence of light: a thread, an anchor—a way home. 

Suddenly, you hated it. Hated the way it sat so close to your heart, hated the warmth, his energy; you hated that, even now, his words cutting so deep, unraveling the fabric of your being, it comforted you, reaching for you. 

You yanked it off, the chain snapping in two as you held it in your trembling hands. 

He falters, his whole being frozen. “What are you doing?” he asked, quiet and tense, blanketed in uncertainty. 

“I don’t want it,” you say, voice quivering, threatening to fail you at any moment. His energy—the only energy that blended so perfectly with yours—reached for you, and so did his trembling hands. Reflexively, you flinched away, retreating further into the room and further from him. “Don’t,” you shake your head. “Don’t touch me. Not with your hands, not with your energy. Don’t.”

Silent tears stream down your face. You are unable to look at him, and your breathing is shallow and unsteady. You open your hand, letting the necklace drop to the floor. The faint sound of metal hitting wood echoes in the suffocating silence of the room. 

There’s a soft knock on the door. It creaks, slightly opening. “... Y/n sensei?” came an unsure voice.

You stiffen, and suddenly, you can sense them, three nervous students standing outside your door. Too caught up with Satoru, you had entirely missed them. You clear your throat and dry your cheeks with the back of your hand before turning to the door. You walk over, opening the door wide enough to see them. 

“Sorry if we’re interrupting, but we just wanted to know if you still wanted to come out for dinner with us...” 

Fuck. How much did they hear?

You take a breath, and it’s shakier than you anticipated. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. Let me grab my jacket, okay.”

Yuji only offers an unsure smile. Norbora has a hard time even looking at you, while Megumis's eyes are solid and unyielding, glaring right past you. His hands were in his pockets, balled into tight fists.

You don’t know what to do other than quickly turning. Within a few ushered strides, you were at your desk, grabbing your coat off your desk chair; you’re careful to avoid Gojo, who manages to plaster on that big fucking grin. 

“Heard you guys were up to no good while I was away.”

“We were fine,” Megumi interjects before Yuji could open his mouth. “More than fine.” 

“Y–yeah, everything ended up being just fine. Y/n-sensei made sure of that,” Nobora awkwardly adds, shifting her weight on her feet. 

“Ah,” Gojo nods. “Well, make sure you get some rest tonight. We’ve got a long day tomorrow! You guys will be training with the second years!” 

You hated how he could act as if everything was alright while you were fighting back tears. It was another jab, a suckerpunch to the gut. 

You just needed to get out of there. 

-

After dinner with the kids, you headed out on your own the following day. You went home, stuffing some clothes in a bag before spending the night at a cheap motel. Before getting with Satoru, you always floated from place to place, never truly settling. Those days, all you carried on you was your backpack. You didn’t have a home or many possessions you could call your own. You just had yourself.  

I guess old habits die hard. 

Megumi was the first to text you: I went to Gojo's house today and didn’t see you. 

All good! I’ve been busy running errands.

Nobora text you sometime after.

Hey Sensei!! Let me know if you’re available today! Let’s go shopping!

You responded rather quickly. Sorry, I’m not around today. Maybe ask Maki? Or maybe Yuji and Megumi would like to tag along.

But guys suck :(

Then, there was Yuji: Hey, Sensei! Let me know if you want ramen! The gang and I got you since you covered for us the other night! I even got coupons! 

You weren’t sure what to say. You always covered for their meals (no exceptions), but you knew they were just trying to be kind. You double-tapped and hearted the message. 

You appreciated them more than anything, but frankly, it was a bit embarrassing. You never meant for them to overhear you and Satrou that night in your office, and you were never one for pity. If it were anyone else, you would have called them out and told them off. However, you wouldn’t dream of doing that to the kids. They were trying to support you in the only way they knew how, but it wasn’t their responsibility to worry about you. 

Surprisingly, Shoko was the next person to contact you. You never stopped by my office. I’m assuming you’re alright?  

Smiling gently, you responded. Yeah, no injuries to report. 

A building collapsed on you.

You scoff, imagining her deadpan expression. Heavenly restriction, remember?

That doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt. 

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. Yeesh. Just meet me at the bar you like downtown. 

That’s where you are now, Shoko’s favorite bar, tossing back your third shot. ”Take it easy. I don’t feel like dragging you home tonight.”

“Ah. I’m alright, Shoko.”

“You don’t look it.” 

“Neither do you with those bags under your eyes.”

She brings her drink to her lips, mumbling “touché” before taking a swig. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Vivid memories pressed to the front of your mind of the building collapsing. “Satoru is demoting me. After the elders ripped into me, I found him waiting for me in my office.”

“He– what? Jeez,” she took another sip of sake. “Out of everything, I didn’t expect that.” 

“I– we haven’t been doing too good. I’m not sure if there even is an us after last night.”

“Huh. He did seem a little out of it today.”

“Somehow, I kinda doubt that.” There’s a beat of silence, and you swirl the liquid in your cup. 

“If it means anything, he asked me about you. Asked if you were alright.” 

You smile a bit sardonically.  If Satoru really wanted to find you, you knew he could, as he had the means to do so. From here, you were only about five miles away from his estate. It’s not like you were too for his eyes to see.  Suddenly, that thought bothers you, and you find yourself almost subconsciously concealing your cursed energy.  

“Is that why you texted me?”

She gives you a weird look. “Partially. I had my own concerns.” 

“Like what?”

“If I’m being honest with you, you’re not great at RCT. I wanted to check and make sure everything was alright. It eventually catches up with you if you don’t do it correctly. I’ve seen it cause irreparable damage before.”  

“Ah. I guess that makes sense.”

“You should come to my office tomorrow so I can check–”

“I think I’m gonna quit.”

“…what?”

“I mean, that’s what they really want, right?”

“If you do that, they’ll find the easiest excuse to label you as a traitor. A cursed user.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Since day one, they’ve been trying to paint me as a villain.” 

“So don’t give them what they want,” Shoko bites back. She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “Listen, I can’t stop you. You are going to do what you want to do at the end of the day, but you don’t need to do this. You made a mistake.”

“I’m just tired,” you tell her truthfully. “For months, I’ve been pretending, going through the motions. I've been miserable. Megumi hasn’t wanted me around much. He’s older now, and he doesn’t need me anymore–”

“Of course he does,” Shoko cuts you off. “He’s still a kid.”

“And I’m not his mother,” you retort bitterly. “Then, there’s Satoru. He’s been so distant.  He used to always be in my corner and make everything better, but I don’t even have that now. Now, all of the jujutsu society thinks I’m a liability. He thinks I’m a liability. Maybe it’s why he’s grown to resent me so much.”

“Please. Just stop talking,” Shoko remarks, overwhelmed with how quickly you were talking. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of conversations like these, but at least she listened. “I’m here if you ever need anyone. And please, don’t let this fester. I would rather not lose another friend.” She takes a large gulp this time, finishing her drink before gesturing for a refill. “Tsk. Satoru is complicated—I get it—but he wouldn’t want you to leave. Neither would Megumi. That kid loves you. Maybe you and Gojo just need a break.”

A break? Ha. That was one way of putting it. However, it already felt much more like a breakup, and its permanence frightened you. Like many other things in your relationship, it was never voiced but certainly felt. 

“Yeah,” you say softly, body buzzing as you down your fourth shot. “Maybe you’re right.”

-

You start walking home after having drinks with Shoko. It was a long walk, and you took your time. You weren’t in a rush to head home to potential chaos. The thought of staying at a hotel crossed your mind, but you had nothing to change into. Frankly, it didn’t matter where you went either. It’s not like you’d be able to sleep any better. 

Though, it’s not like you were going back home to anything good. You were suspended without pay; you couldn’t go near the school grounds or exercise any curses—a stipulation you rolled your eyes at. If they thought just a few measly words would stop you from exercising a curse, they would be more idiotic than you thought. 

Still, maybe it’s good to take some time off. Maybe you should stay at the hotel. If you were lucky, they’d have a washer and dryer. 

Then, your phone starts to ring—a unique ringtone that a white-haired idiot assigned to his contact one day after you let him “borrow” your phone. He even changed his contact photo; years later, you never had the heart to change it. 

Your heart aches when you see the contact photo of him, his goofy smile and gorgeous eyes peeking over his black shades. You answered hesitantly after a few rings. 

“Hello?”

“Heyyy,” you hear, his voice light and cheery yet, lacking its usual spark. “Where are you? I know I missed dinner the other night so I picked up your favorite on my way home!” 

Back to normal? Just like that?

You take a breath, reeling in your emotions. It wasn’t normal, per se, but you could tell he was trying, stepping cautiously over the ice he knew could shatter at any moment. 

“I’m not home, right now.”

“Huuuh?” You can hear the slight whine in his voice, and you can imagine him pouting like a small child. You expect him to carry on with his theatrics, but he hesitates. “When do you think you’ll be home then?”

“Uh, I don’t really know,” you trail off, unable to keep up his faux mirth and bravado. 

 “Well, if you don’t want to sleep next to me tonight, I can just take the guest bedroom!” For a moment, he sounds hopeful.

Honestly, he’s just making your head spin. 

“Honestly, I think it’s best if I stay out of the house for a little while, Gojo.”

There’s a beat of silence before you hear his nervous laughter. “Gojo?” he remarks dejectedly. “Can’t remember the last time you called me that.”

You were unsure what to say; you hadn’t even realized you initially referred to him by his last name until he pointed it out. You want to tell him sorry—for everything, but your tongue tenses in your mouth, and your throat threatens to close up. You hated it when he got like this, and typically, you’d do anything to make him smile again. 

But you’re hurt, and he caused that hurt. 

“I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” he adds quickly, unable to withstand your silence. 

“What’s there to talk about?” You ask softly. “What done is done. I messed up.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “You’re right. It can’t be undone now. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Your stomach drops your heart twists and aches. Was he going to officially end things with you? A bitter, more cruel half of you whispers—you weren’t even officially together to begin with. However, none of that even matters; he has too much of you, too many pieces of your frail heart in the palm of his hands. You were irrevocably his, but was he ever yours? 

Just a few weeks ago, you thought you would have an entirely different answer than the one you have now. You're too afraid to face him or the truth. You were guilt-ridden, your pride and dignity torn to shreds. Hearing that he no longer wishes to be with you would be too much. 

Honestly? 

You’re not sure how you’d react. If you’d sob, if you’d remain stoic, or if you’d flip a table and trash every one of your possessions. You’re at wit's end, and the level of fallout threatening to break free from you was immeasurable. 

So, you finalize what you had been contemplating just five minutes ago. “I think I’m going to stay at a hotel, Gojo. I need space. Time to think.” 

“I don’t want us to go to bed mad at each other,” he says lowly, his voice reverberating through the phone. You shiver. “It doesn’t feel right.”

You hated this. You fucking hated this. 

Your chest tightens, and your knees weaken. You wanted to give in. He always had that power over you. He ruled your heart so effortlessly. You yearned for him, your heart singing a million love songs, beckoning him back to you. 

But you couldn’t. You were too mad. You felt cast aside as if you were nothing but an afterthought—after all these years. Yet again, you feel the foundation of your home cracking, and your knees go weak yet again. You take a shuddering breath right before repeating the exact words he threw at you just a few nights prior—words that so effortlessly dismantled your spirit. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

-   

You’ve always had a habit of running. It was easier for you than most. You figured you’d go back to that cheap motel in Tokyo, but you were too restless. Too angry. Feelings of betrayal ran deep, and the guilt nipped away at you until there was only a void. 

Before you could leave, though, you call a number you knew by heart. Stepping onto the train and holding your phone to your ear, it rings. For a moment, you assume he’s asleep. It was getting late, but after the fifth ring, the line clicked. A groggy voice peaks through. 

“Sensei? What’s going on?”

“Megumi,” you breathe out. “Hi. Sorry to wake you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Nozomi 1, departing from Tokyo and heading to Kyoto, will depart shortly. Please be careful of your footing while boarding. Please refrain from using mobile phone inside the train–“

“You’re leaving?” The tiredness in his voice is replaced by something else you can’t quite place. 

“Only for a short while. It’s not like I’ll be working anytime soon,” you chuckled nervously. “But I just wanted to let you know. It didn’t feel right leaving without speaking to you first.” 

“Oh,” is all he can muster up at first. “I– when will you be back?”

“I’m not sure,” you answer him honestly. “A few days, maybe.” 

“Well… Can we visit you? I’d go alone, but I think Yuji and Nobora would kill me if I did.” 

Oh. You hadn’t expected that. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Um, yeah. When I figure out where I’m staying, I’ll let you know.”

He sounds worried. “You don’t know where you’re staying yet?”

You snicker. “Ha, this is, uh, kinda an impromptu thing.” 

“… and you’re sure alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m alright. I just wanted to tell you.”

You can tell he’s not exactly satisfied, but he isn’t one to stop you. “Well, text me where you’ll be staying in a few hours. You should probably hang up now, though, and figure it out.”

You smile softly to yourself. He always was a kind boy—kinder than he’d ever reveal. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, Megumi.”

“Night.. I’ll call you later. Be safe.”

When you hang up, you feel a bit better. 

- 

The first night was hard—really hard. Sleeping away from Satoru was incredibly difficult, but so were his sharp words that relentlessly bounced around in your mind.  You found no peace by your window, watching the last of that day's sunlight slipping away behind the horizon, casting long shadows over the dead trees covered in snow.

You could almost feel his presence, like the cast of your shadow on a wall—following you, mirroring your every move. Your phone never rang with his ringtone, your phone never buzzed with a new text. Yet you stared at the shadows for a bit longer, a bit more intensely, waiting for two blue eyes to illuminate the space. They never did. 

Kyoto's stillness seemed to reflect your own, waiting for something to change, waiting for something dead and wilted to bloom once more. 

However, even all the way over in Kyoto, bad luck seems to follow you like the plague. You were walking to a small corner market to grab something to eat when you felt the disturbance in the air—tasted it on your tongue. You hoped that surge of cursed energy wasn’t what you thought it was. You would have loved to be proven wrong, but your instincts were keen like a hound trained to hunt. 

A curse womb opened right above a Kyoto High school. 

You were definitely getting fired after this. 

You knew a cursed object was most likely responsible for this. Considering it happened at a school, you were more than willing to bet a strong cursed object was placed there, most likely intended to ward off any other strong curses that might otherwise appear in the area. You assumed the seal broke, probably after hundreds of years of suppressing the power of the object. You’ve dealt with a case like that before.

You couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Three stupid students—ghost hunting of all things—removed the seal. The decorated white cloth tightly wrapped around a black skull was torn, and its viscous cursed energy soared, tinting the sky black. 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you hissed under your breath when you slammed open the classroom door. “This way, c’mon!” You didn’t have to tell them twice. Book it, and you stay by their side for as long as you can. You had to put up your veil, but only after they were far enough. 

You got impatient, however, especially towards the kid who had been recording everything up until now, where you crushed his phone in your hand. 

“Wha– hey! You're gonna pay for that!”

“What the hell is more important? Recording or your fucking lives? Shut up and run!” 

The air suddenly cracks with a tension that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s here. You could feel it—the dark, oppressive presence creeping across the courtyard, lurking. You yourself could see it with your eyes, but you felt it. 

Your senses were better than most. It was partially why you and Yuji got along and trained together so well. You were just like him when you were younger. Granted, he wasn’t born with cursed energy like you were, but your heavenly restrictions were nearly identical. 

You stop running when you reach the edge of the courtyard, but those three kids carry on in a scram. Holding the cursed object in your hands, you raise the skull in the air. It takes a considerable amount of force, but you crush the skull, black dust coating your hand. There’s a hollow screech, and you hope that’s the end of it. 

Of course, your bad luck persists. 

Typically, destroying the cursed object that’s created a cursed womb kills it or at least nullifies it. The exception is when the curse is an S-grade; those wombs are damn near impenetrable. 

Destroying the object seemed only to irritate the curse as it began crawling out of a bloody sac. 

You hold up your fist, index, and pointer finger together, pointing to the sky along with your thumb. A crimson veil pours down, covering the entirety of the school. However, you sense three others within your veil just as you seal off the area. 

“Yo, Y/n sensei!! What the hell are you doing here, loca!” A deep laugh echoes across the courtyard. 

Christ. You knew that voice from anywhere. 

You glance over your shoulder and see a few unexpected faces. Utahime and two other students—Miwa and Todo who looks way happier than he should be, considering the circumstances. 

The newly born curse loomed menacingly overhead, its red eyes gleaming like coals in a dying fire. It was tall, with protruding joints that snapped into place. Its black and sleek hair extended beyond its long, contorted body. Its face was painted white and cracked as if crafted of aged porcelain. Its kimono was white, stained with splashes of red and black goo. You stood firmly in place, fire crackling at your fingertips, your breath steady but sharp in the cold night air. Todo and Miwa joined your side quickly, and Utahime offered you a firm nod from the sidelines. She was entrusting you with her students.  

Quickly, the courtyard became a battlefield, filled with the crackle of burning energy and the hum of raw power. 

The curse lunged, zipping through the air. You were faster, your body twisting and moving with fluid grace. You raised your hand to strike, a jet of flame bursting forward, crackling against the air. The curse shrieked as the fire seared its back, black smoke rising from its melted skin. 

It recovered too quickly for your liking. It rolled through the flames like water through a sieve, reforming and lunging again, its claws gleaming.

Your senses were on fire—every shift in the air, every sound, every movement was magnified. You could hear the heartbeat of the curse, the faintest tremor of its form as it coiled to strike. You could smell the thick, sour scent of decay that clung to it like an ancient smog. And you could feel it—the deep, heavy weight of power pressing down on you, making your muscles tighten and strain against the oncoming attack.

The curse moved to strike again, but you were already there, rolling beneath it, body twisting in a perfect arc, and feet hitting the ground in a spring-loaded motion that sent you leaping upward. Your fist, wreathed in fire, crashed into the creature’s chest.

The explosion of heat sent the curse reeling, but it was only a momentary distraction. It retaliated, slashing the air with a massive, clawed hand. Three energized strikes were headed your way. You reacted with seconds to spare, but Miwa stood directly in the line of fire. You knew her simple domain wouldn’t be summoned fast enough, but she didn’t. It would be a miscalculation that ended her life. 

The claws tore through your side, then whipped down in a sickening arc, ripping clean through your arm. The pain came in an instant—a blinding, searing agony that burned through your body. You didn't even have time to scream.

You staggered back, a cry escaping Miwa’s lips as she looked at the bloody stump where your arm used to be. Blood poured and squirted from the wound, but there was no time for that. 

"Get back!" you shouted to the blue-haired girl, voice raw. She wasn’t nearly ready for this; Utahime gravity overestimated her abilities or underestimated the cursed strength. Regardless, the girl was too distraught to do anything at this moment. 

There’s a rush, and you suddenly realize you are outside the heat of battle. Todo went in, guns blazing, but you could only waste so much time. Todo was strong, way above his current ranking, in your opinion, but it was only a matter of time before that curse cut him down, too. 

Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees. The pain was overwhelming, but you focused, drawing from the reserves settled deep within your core. Your energy surged, and tendrils of fire spiraled around the wound, filling the air with intense heat. 

“Sensei! Are you alri–" Miwa gasped, her feet coming to a haunt as she watched in awe and terror as your arm began to regenerate—pulsing with energy. The flesh knitted itself together, bone and sinew reforming in a frenzy. 

But the process wasn't easy and certainly didn’t come without a price to pay. Your body screamed, the regeneration draining your reserves. You were already weakened, and the battle had just begun. Tsk. 

Todo found his way back over to you two, panting heavily. “How are you doing over there, Sensei?”

"Clap," you say, voice strained. "Now." He looked at you, bug-eyed, but he nodded. He didn't hesitate. 

He brought his hands together in a sharp clap, and everything shifted. “Alright! Let’s dance!”

In an instant, you found yourself on the other side of the curse. You inhaled deeply, heart pounding, immediately launching yourself back into the fight.

The curse roared in confusion, disoriented, but it was too late. You were already in motion. Your feet hit the ground in a fluid motion, and with a vicious snap of your wrist, fire erupted once again. This time, it formed into a massive whip of flame that lashed through the air.

The curse hissed as the whip wrapped around its neck, and you pulled with your whole body. Never losing your grip, muscles straining, you move forward, wrapping the flames over your arm again and again, pulling tighter and tighter until you smelt the pungent odor of the burning flesh around its neck. You wrapped the whip around your arm one last time before turning your body and pulling the whip from over your shoulder, viscously yanking and slamming the curse to the ground and into submission. 

The curse struggled, its body writhing, but it was weakened. Miwa went for the opening, summoning her New Shadow Style: Simple domain. She’s gotten better since the tournament, and you acknowledge with a grave chuckle as she instantly draws her blade, slicing the curse directly across its chest cavity. She cost you an arm, but deep down, you knew she had the conviction to win and succeed. 

Todo doesn’t wait. Another clap. Another shift. You and Todo swapped places with the curse itself this time, and the curse had no time to react. He goes for a punch, cracking the curse with a quick jab, followed by a right hook. He claps again. The moment the curse materialized in front of you, disoriented, you surged forward, throwing everything you had left into one final strike.

It twisted in anguish, its body crumbling to the ground before its remains turned into ash.

Then, there was nothing.

The air grew still. The ground beneath you is scorched but calm. You sucked your teeth, silently berating yourself. 

You hated using your technique. Frankly, you opted not to unless you absolutely needed to, which was the main reason why people hardly knew about it. It wreaked havoc, leaving nothing but indomitable infernos that refused to be quenched like normal flames. They left nothing destruction in their wake—hungry to consume and spread. However, you’ve gotten better at controlling it—you’ll give yourself that. The only thing burned here today was the grass in the courtyard. 

You stood there for a moment, panting, your body trembling with exhaustion as you collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. “Y–you did it!” Miwa cheered. “I had no idea you knew RCT. Thank you for helping me back there.”

“What the– Miwa, we won! Show some conviction!” Todo cut in, flexing his biceps. 

“He’s right,” you managed a weak smile as you worked on catching your breath and easing your fast-beating heart. You collapse to the ground, still gaining your breath. "We did it."

You hear footsteps approaching from behind. Tilting your head, you see Utahime standing directly above you. 

“Oh. Hi ‘hime.” 

She smiles a bit, but her face remains hardened. You straighten up a bit, catching on to her attitude. Something wasn’t right. 

“You guys did a good job. However, another problem has arisen across the city.” 

“Huh? Another one?” Miwa asked, brows tugging inward. She shifts her weight from one hip to the other. “That's like the fifth one today...”

They continue on in their conversation as you drop your veil, sniff the air, and concentrate on your surroundings. A sense of foreboding strikes you under the dark ambiance of the sky. Even after killing that S-grade, things don’t feel right. 

“Thanks for joining us,” Utahime says, drawing back your attention. “I nearly had to call for backup.”

You scoff, glancing up at her from the ground. “Something doesn't feel right, Utahime.” She nods, agreeing with your observation. “When did the reports come flooding in?”

“About an hour ago now.”

“Hm,” you wonder, thinking back to when you first found the cursed womb. “That’s about the same time I first sensed the presence of the cursed womb. They’re most likely connected.”

“That's what I thought. The presence of the cursed womb must have irritated some of the curses in the city, most likely because they were drawn to the energy fluctuations the cursed womb caused. It's good you were here. We're stretched thin right now. If you don’t mind staying, we could use your help. The other students are out on missions across the city, and things just keep getting worse.” 

You smile up at her before pushing yourself back up on your two feet, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Sure, let’s get going–” but as you stand, it feels as if a bolt of lightning strikes you down or as if your chest has been cracked open by a sledgehammer. The agony was too great to even scream as you fell to your knees and crashed back into the ground. 

It was lights out. 

-

It was quiet. Dark—a vast, unending expanse of nothingness that swallowed you whole. An endless drift. It would have almost been peaceful if not for the faint pull at the edges of your awareness, like an anchor trying to tether to something you couldn’t see. 

But then came the first sound. 

You heard voices—muffled cries. Please wake up, said one voice. Please stay with me, came another. 

Pain began to throb somewhere in the background, dull and distant. Disembodied as if it belonged to someone else. 

Don’t you dare leave me. The voice was sharp, demanding, cracking under the weight of fear. You knew that voice and remembered all the sweet things it used to whisper to you. Your heart takes a painful lurch. You can hear its occasional beat in your ears. We need you. I need you. 

Oddly, you were cold.

You were drifting again, further and further. The anchor was slipping. You were sinking, your head hardly above water, when another muffled voice broke through—whimpering, sobbing. Your heart lurches painfully.

Mom, please don’t go.

The words pierce through the nothingness, shattering it all to bits and pieces. The words pull at you, a lifeline you hadn’t known you clung to and needed. Images begin to flash, and suddenly, the voices are no longer just voices. Your heart suddenly burns as though the memory of life itself is fighting its way back into you. 

Your eyelids were heavy, limbs weak, unresponsive—cold. You were so cold, but it wasn’t enough to stop you from crawling out of a black pit that threatened to swallow you whole. There’s a faint sensation of pressure, a hand tightly gripping yours. 

Light begins bleeding into the edges of your awareness. You sucked in a deep breath, lungs empty and greedy. 

Then, your eyes fluttered open.  

You blinked a few times, realizing how hard it was to breathe. Breathing was supposed to be an automatic response, but you had to force it, each breath dragging along the back of your throat like sandpaper. You’re weak and shivering as you use most of your energy to sit up. You were in an empty room, you realized—the sharp smell of sanitizer permeating your nose. 

You push yourself out of bed, knees buckling under your weight. You catch yourself, gathering whatever bits of strength you have left. Your teeth clattered. You were freezing. Shaking, you wrapped the white blanket over your shoulders, gripping it tight before you trudged towards the door.

The hall was mostly empty, all except for a sleeping boy slouched over in a chair beside your door. Your heart squeezes. 

“Megumi,” you whispered his name. You stare at him for a moment, unable to bite back the tears that nip at your dry eyes. 

You wrapped the blanket around him, tucking it gently around him. However, he flinches, jumping straight up in his chair. “S-Sorry,” you tell him quickly with a watery smile. “You looked cold.” 

“You…” the word was a raw and weak whisper. His eyes widened. It took a moment for recognition to settle in, but once it did, he spoke again. “You’re awake.” He stood up from his chair, and you stepped back, offering him space. “You’re awake,” he repeated again. 

Then, you start to wonder just how long you’ve been out of it. Days? Weeks? The thought of months terrifies you, but before you can even go down that loophole, he’s hugging you tightly. “You’re awake,” he says once more, his voice breaking. 

However long it was, he’s right. You’re awake. You’re here, living and breathing. You wrap your arms around his torso, patting and rubbing his back soothingly. “Yup… I’m here. I’m awake.” 

You let him be the one to pull away, letting him take however long he needs. You enjoyed it regardless. You couldn’t remember the last time you hugged him. 

When he pulls away, his eyes are red. He sniffs a bit, backing up and taking the blanket off his shoulders. This time, he’s the one wrapping the fabric around you. He’s frowning a bit as he does. “... you’re the one that’s cold,” he notes quietly. 

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” He asks softly, brows furrowing. 

You shook your head. No. Frankly, you didn’t remember much of anything right now. “I was on my way with Yuji and Nobora. We got on the train after you let me know where you were staying.” That’s right. You texted Megumi when you figured out where you’d be staying. You thought they’d come over sometime in the following days. You had no idea they were rushing to see you on the next available train. 

He places his hands awkwardly on your shoulder before gently guiding you to the chair he was sitting in moments ago. As you go to sit, your body seems to forget how to move for a moment, and you lose your balance. He catches you quickly, carefully helping you down into the chair. “When we got to Kyoto, we realized quickly how bad things were over there.   We started helping out at the Kyoto school, dealing with the curses that had been lingering in the area where the cursed womb opened up. Eventually, we ran into Todo and Miwa. They told us what happened.” He grunts, kneeling down so he’s at eye level with you. 

You’re silent for a moment. “How long was I out for?”

“Pushing four days now.” 

The memories strike you like a fright train. “Are you okay? Is everyone alright?” You hadn’t realized you had reached for his cheek. 

He grabs your wrist, thumb gently caressing the back of your hand before pulling your hand away, guiding it back to your lap. He moves the blanket until it's covering you again.  “We’re all fine. Everything’s been dealt with. Yuji and Nobora went down to the cafe to grab some lunch. They’ll be thrilled when they come back.”

You tilt your head. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

He smiles a bit. “I didn’t want to leave you unattended.”

You don’t know what to think. You’re just happy you’re back. Happy because he was happy. You always hated it when he worried about you. You never believed it was his job to do so. However, he stayed by your side and protected you when you couldn’t protect yourself. 

You wiggle your toes and roll your shoulders before standing again. “You shouldn’t be standing–”

“I’m alright, I promise,” you tell him, dismissing his concern. “I just want to walk around, okay?”

He stares at you intently, unsure, but he seems to have no energy to argue with you. “... alright,” he relents. 

He follows you closely as you drag your feet across the floor. You don’t know where you are walking, but you want to stretch your legs and regain a sense of your body. You are weak, but you need to move. 

You ask the question you were too hesitant to ask: “What about Gojo?”

He huffs. “He left a little while ago. Said he’d be back shortly,” he scoffs. “Bullshit if you ask me.”

“Megumi,” you sigh his name with a soft reprimand. 

“He should be here,” he responds disgruntledly. “He should be by your side, and he’s not."

You stay quiet. You’re not exactly sure what to say to him when you agree. Maybe Gojo was done. Whatever this was, whatever relationship you had—maybe he didn’t want you anymore. You look ahead, fighting your own body that threatened to collapse at any moment. You could feel Megumi’s eyes on you, but you didn’t have the heart to look at him right now.

You were afraid you would sob if you did. 

Though you had never walked these halls before, the hospital's layout was quite easy to catch on to. After taking a fourth right turn, you see your room in the distance. A stubborn part of you says to keep going and keep walking, but the exhaustion is catching up to you quickly. If Megumi hadn’t been by your side, cautious eyes scanning you, you might have kept going until you passed out. You realize that the strength you had was nearly depleted. Only trickles of your cursed energy remained, and it would be a long while before you gained it back. 

You hear footsteps behind you. Quick and ushered. Megumi turns before you, his whole frame tensing.  He sucks his teeth and clicks his tongue. “So he finally shows up.” He speaks in a sardonic tone, loud enough for anyone in the hallways to hear.

Satoru comes running from around the corner then, taking deep breaths. Your brows slightly pinch together in confusion. “S–Satoru,” you stutter, walking closer. “When did you get here?”  He looks disheveled. Alarmed. Was he just running? 

It was hard trying to figure out what he was feeling or experiencing when that black eyeband covered his eyes. However, you noticed the bouquet in his hands, a delicate combination of soft and tender hues: pale pink and roses, white peonies, deep pink lilies, and baby’s breath delicately wrapped along sprigs of greenery. 

You place a hand on Megumi’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go eat with the others?”

“But–”

“I’ll be alright,” you explain to him in a soft tone.

He hesitates, torn between staying and leaving.  He was unsure if he should leave you to handle this alone, but after a moment, he backed down, probably realizing he shouldn’t stand between the two of you and what needed to happen. With an irate glance shot at Gojo, he turns, pocketing his hands as he makes his way to the stairs. 

Only when the door shuts do you look at Satoru again. 

He stays unusually quiet, his face unreadable. Frankly, it was rather unsettling. You had no idea what was going through his mind. “I–I’m sorry!” you blurt out the first words that crash to the surface of your mind the moment you see him in his entirety. There was no hope of holding back. After days spent away from him, lost in his absence, and days dancing on the edge of death, the words tumble out of you before you can stop them—unbidden, unstoppable. “For everything. Y–You must have been stressed with work and other things. My fuck up only added to your plate. I get it, ya know? It's selfish of me, even now, to rely on you so much when there’s a whole world that needs you. They are not my students, and I put them in danger.” Quickly, the tears gather in your waterline again, but you blink them away. “I–I’ll be leaving soon. I’ll… I’ll go. I’ll get out of your way, and you won’t have to deal with me bothering you any longer–”

“Can I touch you?” The question comes suddenly, softly, and almost hesitantly. 

You blink a few times, puzzled, but then, you unravel, folding inward under the weight of his voice. Your breath hitches in your throat. Was he still holding onto what you had said that night? Was he haunted by the barriers broken and the others so carelessly assembled? 

He still wanted you? 

You didn’t want him to let you go. Not yet. Not ever.

Like a dam breaking, you surged forward, closing the space between you two. Seconds later, you feel his resolve crumble. He crushes you to his chest, flowers falling to the floor. His arms enveloped you with a force that robbed you of breath, your feet nearly coming off the ground as you both stumble backward. Trembling, he clung to you as if you were an anchor in a world that threatened to tear him apart. There were no words—the unspoken agony and grief were far too overwhelming to put into words—if there even were words for it. 

I’m sorry. I love you. I’m glad you’re okay.  You felt it all with him. You could feel the pounding of his heart against your chest, hear its frantic rhythm match your own.

His hands were shaking, one tangling in your hair, the other wrapping entirely around your frame and squeezing your hip. He buries his face into your neck, and his hot breath is ragged and uneven as he inhales your scent. “I thought–” he swallows, shaking his head. “I didn’t know where you were—for a second time.”

Your cursed energy was low, more depleted than it had ever been. It explains why you were so weak, so frail. When he saw your empty bed, he must’ve panicked. He ran to you, anxiously following the weak traces of your presence. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and the familiar silk of his eyeband rubs against your skin. You gently tug at the fabric with the tips of your fingers. His breath hitches, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he stills as you slip the black band from his face. He lifts his head just enough to rest it against yours. They were that same stunning shade of azure—bright and impossibly vivid, glowing softly as if they carried the remnants of a forgotten star. Captivating, otherworldly, yet achingly human—something he’d often forget from time to time. 

“You promised,” he murmurs, voice broken. “You promised.”  

“What are you talking about?” you ask just as brokenly. 

Suddenly, one of his hands grasps your neck, and you choke on your words. He doesn’t squeeze tight, but the look on his face is enough to make you gasp. “I couldn’t feel you. I couldn’t feel you anymore,” he says achingly. 

Your chest tightens, nails slightly digging into his forearm. You open your mouth to speak, failing more times than succeeding. You wanted to speak, but the words lodged in your mouth. 

“I–I don’t understand.”

“You’re not wearing it anymore,” he murmurs, his nose brushing softly against your cheek. The necklace you always wore—his gift to you, the one that held a part of him, a part of the two of you—was gone. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, an absence that gnawed at him like hunger, an emptiness he could never satisfy. 

His voice wasn’t angry, far from it. It wasn’t even harsh, but something in it—a quiet desperation—made the air between the two of you quiver. 

“You promised you’d never go where I couldn’t follow,” he whispers again. “Remember?” 

You nod in his hold, tightly pursing your lips together when a few tears escape, dripping from your eyes.  He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours again, gazing deep and unwavering into your eyes. I remember. His grip on your neck loosens until he removes his hand from your throat completely, gentle fingers pushing down your shirt's fabric. His fingers trace your skin, the empty spot where your necklace once laid. 

Then, it suddenly hits you. “Oh.”  

He could feel you as much as you felt him. If you were ever too far from him—out of the range of his sight, out from where his hands could reach for you, that necklace was a beacon, a beckoning, a lighthouse in the storm that guided you home—guided him home. 

You squeeze him tighter. You missed him. You really missed him. 

“How did you find me?” 

He takes a moment to breathe, trying to settle the rapid beat of his heart. “Utahime.” He wheezes out a pained laugh. “She called me panicking once you collapsed. I got there as quickly as I could.”  

You copy his laugh, albeit coughing a bit from the pain blooming in your ribs. You hated to admit it, but the longer you stood, the more your body began to hurt. “I should just heal myself and get this over with.”

“Don’t,” his grip tightens on you again. “you’re using it wrong. There’s damage, lots of it,” he tells you, wiping at the blood that had stained your skin at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Any more and–” his eyebrows furrowed deeply, the weight of grief and guilt tugging his features. The corner of his lips tightened. “Shoko operated on you for hours. You nearly died.”

He sees what others cannot, his gaze piercing the surface to something deeper, something raw. He sees the world through an entirely different lens, and right now, the sight of you seems to pain him dearly. 

For a moment, you wonder just how much damage is hidden within you and how much it must weigh on him to see it. “Shoko might have gotten you out of the woods, but she told me you’d need a few more rounds to get you back to normal.”

“That makes sense,” you murmur, allowing your entire body weight to ease into him. He accepts you with open arms. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Or twenty.”

“I missed it,” he utters, voice thick with regret. “If I had just looked a bit closer, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I fucked up. I could’ve prevented this.” His careful grip on you tightens as if you’d slip away from him once more.  “But,” his tone softens. “You did so well. You took care of that cursed womb before I could even get to the scene.” Even through his pain and wallowing, his heart swells. He was proud of you. 

He bends down, grabbing the flowers he dropped before moving towards you again. “Oh gosh,” you hide your face into his neck as he reaches down, one arm hooking under your legs as he lifts you. You don’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m definitely fired, aren’t I?” 

He carefully guides you back into your room. He manages to toss your flowers on the counter by the window. “Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll handle it. ‘Kay?” He places you down on your bed, but he hesitates, not wanting to fully pull away. 

Your eyes flicker, recalling the night of your augment. You knew this was the reason behind his haunted expression. You recognized the torment because you, too, had felt it. “You’re mad,” he observes relatively quickly.

You didn’t want to bring it up. You weren't necessarily mad, not anymore, but even near death couldn’t make you forget the pain he had caused with words he so carelessly struck you down with. 

“What you said… Hurt me, Gojo,” you look down at your hands, feeling selfish for even bringing this up after nearly dying. However, you knew this conversation was inevitable.  “Even if you were right I felt cast aside. Useless. Why didn't you tell me you felt that way before?”

“No… don’t say that. I was being stupid. I over reacted. I know you'd always protect those kids and that's exactly what you did. You’re not weak or a nuisance, or... convenient.” you flinch at the word. “You’re far from that. I need you to know that.”

“...Then what am I?”

“Everything,” he shudders. “You’re everything.” His lips brush over your forehead, your cheeks, and eyelids, each kiss tender and lingering. But then he pauses, his smooth lips hovering just above yours. He’s always been so confident, so self-assured. You’re unsure how to react.

You were sitting on your bed, feet dangling just above the floor. He is leaning over you, one large and warm hand on your thigh, the other cupping your face gently. He was close, but not close enough. Even bent at the waist, his height keeps him just out of your reach unless he leans back down just a bit more…

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, giving him all the assurance you have to offer.

You were hurt, but you still wanted him.

You still loved him. 

His mouth was warm and soft—testing the waters and treading carefully. His grip on your thigh tightens until– 

He lets go. You feel the tension in his body dissipate, and finally, he allows himself to fully enjoy you—taste you. The kiss deepens, and you swear it brought life back into your frail body. He overwhelms you now in the most delicious way possible. Your toes curl, and your tight embrace eases. Your arms go weak, your hands moving to run down his chest, his taut muscles quivering in the wake of your touch.  Every moment was a promise, every brush of skin a new vow. No words were spoken, but you both heard everything that had been held back, everything that had been left unsaid. 

I’m sorry.

I love you. 

I love you.

I love you. 

He smiles against your lips, but you don’t stop or pull away, catching and nipping at his bottom lip. Then, you kiss him again, slotting his top lip between yours. “You really love me, huh? Hehe.”

Oh. You hadn’t realized you said it—whimpered murmurs against his lips. No wonder why he looked all dopey and smiley. 

“You’re not going to make me grovel for forgiveness?” He pecks your lips again. “This seems too easy. I know you’re still mad.”

You chase after his lips. “Of course, I’m still mad,” you mutter against him. “But I thought I would never see you again.” Even as he frowns, you pepper his lips with kisses. “Plus, it's not like you to grovel.”

“I would for. Only for you, of course.”

You giggle, nipping his lip a little harder. “Yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “I’d like to see that.”

Oh no. You’ve made a grave mistake. You knew you messed up again the second the words fell from your lips. There’s a glint in his eyes now. 

“Oh, my beautiful, angelic Queen! I know I have displeased you. Please accept my humble apologies!” You squeak at the suddenness of his actions. He sinks to his knees dramatically, and his palms meet the dirty floor, and so does his forehead. “I am at your mercy! I have failed you greatly, and I wish to make amends.”

You swat him on the back of his head, but it's not nearly enough to hurt him or deter him from whatever this is. “Gojo! Don’t bow like that! Get up!”

“But I can’t!” He whines. “You must forgive me! I will spend eternity on my knees if it means I can regain your favor, my perfect, beautiful, divine Queen. You alone rule this sinners heart!”  He inches forward on his knees, squeezing himself between your legs. His hands find homage on your waist as he nudges his face into your stomach.

Your eyes roll skyward. “Only you could apologize and insult me at the same time, Satoru,” you grumble, looking down at him before running your fingers through white stands. 

Suddenly, he looks up from this position, resting his chin right beneath your ribs, grinning ear to ear. “You called me Satoru~”

You feel your face flush, heat gushing to your cheeks and ears. “Shut up. You’re such an idiot. Can you get up now?”

“Nah,” he says lazily, burying his head into your stomach again. His voice comes out muffled. “I’m trying to make amends with my Queen. Let me, will ya?”

You ease, realizing you won't be able to stop him from doing what he wants. Even if it was a bit theatrical, he was doing his best—you know that because you know him. You let your nails gently graze his scalp as you continued to pat him. He hums, almost purrs, as your other hand finds his shoulder, squeezing him gently before running your fingers under his shirt, caressing his skull and the taut muscles in his back. A beat of silence passes, but you find yourself uncaring.

You had him back in your arms. That’s all that really mattered to you right now.

“Look, I know… I know I messed up,” he begins, voice so low, you nearly miss it. “I’m not great at this—saying the right things. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was stressed. I was fed up with the higher-ups and fed up with my missions, but that’s no excuse. If I could take it all back, I would in a heartbeat. You deserve better than what I was giving you. I’m gonna try to be better… for you. For us.”  His words hang in the air a bit awkwardly, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his voice. It couldn’t be missed. He shifts a bit, moving to kiss your belly. Then, his large hand wrap around yours, guiding your hand closer to his lips. He kisses the back of your knuckles tenderly as if the act of his apology could never be enough.

“You want me to stay?”

He squeezes you tighter. “Of course I do. What would I be without you?”

“Hm. You’d still be Gojo Satoru. Even without me.” 

“I don’t want to imagine a life without you,” he mutters. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow. I've already told you that…”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper sweetly, patting his head. He nudges his head further into you. “The world will always need you.”

“I will always need you. So please… stop talking like this.” He pinches your side, making you squeak. Finally he looks up, an unimpressed expression gracing his features. “And don’t ever leave the city to get away from me. When you told me you were going to a hotel, I thought you meant in Tokyo.”

You chuckle nervously, looking elsewhere. “Yeah… Sorry about that.” 

“Next time, take a walk or something. I dunno, go touch some grass if you get tired of me.”

A small smile escaped you, followed by a quiet laugh that shook your shoulders. You pat his back three times before kneading him softly. “Okay, humble peasant. You've groveled for long enough. Now lay with me,” you demand him. “I want you to lay with me. I’m so tired.”

“Psh. I’d hardly fit on this bed.”

“Whatever,” you tell him, scooting over. “I’ll make room. Get in, string bean.”

He grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

 It’s a bit awkward at first with his lanky form, but he makes it work. It was a tight fit, and his feet slightly dangled off the bed, but he made no objections. With your back to his chest, he held you against him securely.

“You’re cold,” he observes out loud when you start playing with his fingers. It’s a bitter realization, a deafening one on his part. You know it bothers him, especially as he wraps the blanket around you tighter.

He tries not to let it show. However, he quickly becomes restless and you know he isn’t sated. He begins to move. “Let me go get you another blanket.”

“Nooo. Stay here.”

“Huh? But you’re freezing! And you’re never cold!”

“I’m already warming up!” You intervene with a small giggle, tugging him by his jacket. “Just shut up and lay with me, already.” He hesitates before unbuttoning his black jacket. When he was determined, there wasn’t any stopping a man like him, and right now, he was determined to get you warm.

He lays his jacket over you, spreading the fabric out, smoothing away all the wrinkles, and making sure you're covered. It might as well be a blanket with how long it was over you. Bonus points because it still carried him warmth and smelled like his cologne. A blend of earth and wood with a hint of something darker—smokey and smooth. You always loved the scent. Whenever he walked by, it brushed past you like a gentle breeze over still water, warm and inviting, with subtle notes of leather, musk, and vanilla. 

He grunts a bit before easing into the bed again. “My little icicle- ow,” you shot your elbow back, getting him right in the ribs. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He chuckles, before wrapping his arms over you one more. He brushes your hair from your neck, his breath fanning against your skin. He kisses you there once, twice, three times before saying something familiar. 

“I could sense when you left Tokyo. I didn’t know what to do. Even with my eyes, I couldn’t find you. You were just gone. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow." He kisses your neck. "Please.”

You turn around, searching for his lips. He melts into you once again, squeezing your side sweetly. “I promise,” you murmur. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow,” you say, voicing back the same promise he made you. He smiles faintly against your lips.  

When you woke up the next morning, your necklace was there. It was back where it belonged, sapphires resting gently over your steady beating heart—carrying Satoru’s silent promise.

Wherever you go, that’s where I follow. 

-

a/n: I honestly don't know how I feel about this but if you made it to the end I hope the nearly 18k was worth reading. If you couldn't tell its based off the song Die With A Smile. Honestly, I think I might have been happier by making this a bit longer and flushing out some of the scenes more, but I was trying new things and I was excited to post my first jjk post :) however its getting late now but if there's any typos or errors I notice later I'll edit as needed.

anyways, if you'd like to see more gojo x sorcerer!reader let me know! also I really hoped you liked the bits I added with Megumi (he's just a smol bean).

likes and reblogs are always appreciated! :p

[jinwoosbabyboo]

I have a silly thought that I would like to share with you. Sometimes, I make random noises as a sort of verbal keysmash. Wouldn't it be funny if the verbal keysmashes were somehow Lemurian swear words? Or an old Philos curse?

Gibberish … Maybe?

How I imagine the LADS men reacting to you accidentally saying something in another language. Whole time you just made a random noise and have no clue what they’re even talking about. A/N: Imagine saying "manamana doot dee de dee tee" and they think you just cursed them out in a different language

Zayne

Doorways and staircases really suck sometimes because why did you completely forget what you came in the kitchen for as soon as you walked through the cased opening. You stood there dumbfounded and made a random noise which you could only refer to as a ‘verbal keyboard smash’

Zayne: Where did you learn that? MC: Learn what? Zayne: You just said ‘Forevermore’ in latin MC: I literally made the most random noise my brain could think of Zayne: That was latin clear as day MC: How the hell do you know latin? Zayne: I studied it MC: Why? Zayne: Why not?

From then on Zayne sends you random quotes in latin just to see if you can tell what they say. You keep telling him you never learned latin and have no clue what he’s talking about. After months of him teaching you bits of latin you two have your own little secret language now.

Rafayel

Your brain must've stopped working for a second because here you are opening the oven with your left hand and reaching in with your right hand. The problem? The oven mitt is on your left hand. Just as the tip of your finger is about to hit the edge of that scalding hot cookie sheet you pull your hand back making the most random shocked noise.

Rafayel: What did you just call me? MC: What are you talking about? Rafayel: You just basically called me a barnacle muncher in glubbanese MC: Glubba what?! Rafayel: Who taught you that? MC: Nobody taught me anything what in the blue fuck are you talking about? Rafayel: Are you seeing other Lemurians? MC: I made a random noise Raf get outta my ear with all this

You turned to pull your baked goods out of the oven and set them on the stove. You quickly turned the oven off before turning back to him.

MC: Also aren’t you the only Lemurian left Rafayel: Me and my aunt Talia … wait!

He grips you by the shoulders

Rafayel: Was it her?! I knew it! I'll be back MC: NO! I-

You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence as he turned on his heels and made a beeline for the front door. You try to stop him from storming out the door, but he was too fast. You stare at the door dumbfounded because you still have no clue what the actual fuck glubbanese is.

Xavier

Xavier was the perfect body pillow to lean against while you read a book. Perhaps you were a little too immersed in your book because when the major plot twist came the most unintelligible string of gibberish came out of your mouth. You felt Xavier stiffen behind you which broke you immersion.

MC: What's wrong? Xavier: Why did you say that? MC: Say what? Xavier: You just said something rather strange in Philosian MC: I said what in philosophy? Xavier: I’d rather not repeat it MC: Xav I literally just made a random noise Xavier: Well that random noise is ‘hairy anus’ in philosian MC: WHAT???

You sat up so fast you somehow managed to fall off the couch hitting your elbow on the coffee table. Xavier pulled you back onto the couch checking to make sure you were okay before you notice the grin he’s trying to hold back. He finds this whole thing hilarious.

MC: Stop laughing! Xavier: I should’ve known you didn’t mean to say that MC: I didn’t say anything I made a random noise Xavier: I’m sure you’ll be more careful next time MC: If Philosian sounds like random throat noises then yea I guess I'll be more careful

Sylus

You were laying on the plush couch in Sylus’ study while he was taking a few business calls. He said he would be done soon however the boredom was getting to you. With absolutely zero thought you blurted out a random noise. You didn’t think much of it until you looked over and saw Sylus starring at you; his brows furrowed and his head cocked. You sat up confused on why he was looking at you as if you’d just called him a no neck bitch or something.

Sylus: Where did you learn that? And when? MC: Learn what? Sylus: You just tried to curse me MC: I didn’t do anything…… Sylus: That was a curse in ancient Philosian MC: That was random gibberish Sylus: …. MC: Fix your face Sylus: Trying to get rid of me sweetie? MC: I’m not trying to do anything! Sylus: Unfortunately for you those curses don’t work on me you’ll have to try something else MC: What in the blue hell do you mean ‘try something else’ I didn’t try anything in the first place!

Ever since you supposedly tried to curse him in a language you’d never heard of he’s constantly teasing you. He checks in from time to time to see if you’ve taught yourself any new spells and you tell him the same thing every time.

MC: Sylus it was a random noise Sylus: Keep telling yourself that Sorceress

[shackleton2]

it's true and I say this as an avid binge-watcher who in the stone age had to look up transcripts of episodes because I couldn't wait THREE ENTIRE DAYS OF MY LIFE FOR NETFLIX TO MAIL ME THE NEXT DVD

Seasons of TV released as one fat drop of 8-12 1-1.5hr episodes, literally being told THIS IS FOR YOU TO BINGE IN ONE INSANE SITTING is the exact definition of my dreams and desires.

......why are they no good??

I can definitely think of exceptions, but "both of them have too much time and not enough time for the characters to struggle and grow and change," as it's well-put above, does seem to be the rule more and more. But what does that phrase really mean??

I saw something recently weighing in on this and saying series in particular seem to think every single thing depicted on screen has to move the story forward, possibly because everything is angled to encourage "binging". It's funny because that sounds like it should do the opposite of making the story feel ponderous and pointless!! So what's going on?

Maybe it's because Real Life™ isn't constantly moving towards one plot resolution, so the more you write a story where that's true, the more impossible true immersion for the viewer becomes?

But also I think actively designing a series to be compulsively watched in one or two massive sittings is hurting them as stories. Maybe it's because bingeing, especially as it's understood in other contexts, is not about enjoying something massively good, at least not after the initial part.

We all know this, right? You don't binge on something because it's just sooooo good. Are there people out there who have never done any kind of binge? Maybe so, so I'll tell you because I surely have: it's inertia. A really scary kind, to be honest, that feels, after a while of getting acclimated to nonstop-consuming the thing, like an absolute involuntary need. Because the second I stop eating the family sized bag of chips, stop taking another drink, stop lighting another smoke, reality will come rushing back in place of the comfort-stimulus. And in reality I am not experiencing joy or even pleasure, I am experiencing the kind of existential horror you get when you try to convince yourself you don't actually have to deal with your own mind. This 100% applies to letting the next episode autoplay after 5 hours of watching one story unfold.

Sorry I got kinda dark there, but the point I'm trying to illustrate is that I don't think you NEED a GOOD PRODUCT in order to get people to binge. And, well, that shows more and more with this "content" streaming services are releasing.

True Blood was a hot mess in so many ways and my mental health sure as shit was too but holy shit watching that obsessively years back was so FUN. That show and other story-loves of mine feel different from stuff getting released in full-season streaming dumps right now, and I don't think it's quality of writing or acting or effects or anything else making the difference as much as whether a show seems to genuinely LIKE itself, or whether it's counting on you finding it preferable enough to reality to let the next episode play and thus get good stats.

we need 15-20 episode seasons again these limited series have the worst pacing in the world and none of the character decisions hold any weight

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐖𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. isagi yoichi x reader , bachira meguru x reader , itoshi rin x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. the moment he realized that he has the biggest crush on you.

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~2.2k words . 0.7-0.8k words each.

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. drabble for each on. fluff. f!reader. spoiler - free ! safe for minors ! crappy writing. isagi, bachira and rin may seem ooc.

ISAGI YOICHI. when he misunderstood something on valentine's day—

　HE realizes that he has the biggest crush on you when you walked towards him on valentine's day with a beautiful decorated, red box in your hands. Actually it was like a normal day for him—considering that he didn't receive any chocolate.

Well it's not like he minded anyway. Again, valentine's day was always just like another day in school. Yeah but that was until he saw you at the end of the day in all your glory with chocolate in your hand, a bright smile on your lips.

The sun itself shone down on the school, capturing your beauty just right, reminding him of those typical romance movies you never stop talking about. Nonetheless, was that chocolate in your hand? Is that box... for him?

Did you actually like him? He thought the rumors were fake? You never gave any signs that you were crushing on him so he never gave those rumors much thought. And now it seems like he should've prepared for this day!

Nevermind, he can give you tenfold back on white day. The only thing he should do is remain calm and sort his messed up thoughts. At the end, he couldn't help but flush as you stood infront of him, your hand with the box stretched out for him.

"Ah, [n-name]..!" he stuttered.

"Here, 'chi." you paused for a moment, making his heart beat even faster, "a boy confessed to me and gave me chocolate. But I don't feel like eating them, so I'm giving it to you."

It came crashing down. The colors of his face drained. His soul almost flew out of his body. "You okay?" you questioned, a little concerned about the state your friend was in. "Hey, wanna go to the nurse office real quick?! Don't die, Yoichi!"

"I-It's alright... I'm alright..." he blurted out to less your worries, "sure... I'll take those chocolates..."

Even though he assured you he was fine while accepting the box, you were still concerned about his dire state. But you eventually figured out why he was so shocked after forcing him to spill out what his problem was.

"Pfft— You're so silly!" you laughed your ass off, slapping his back firmly which made him yelp out in pain. Not that it really hurt, he was just being dramatic. You think. "Quit being dramatic."

"Hey, you slapped my back! And it did hurt..."

You still think your slap wasn't that painful after he scooted further away from you. "Stop exaggerating." you deadpanned before standing up from the bench, surprising him slightly by the abrupt movement. "Wait here."

With that, you left. Wow, did you really take your leave after slapping his back? Was he actually exaggerating? His back still hurts though. "Did I really just mess up my chance?" he asked himself, his breath hitched, "is she mad?"

Okay, please tell Isagi Yoichi he did not lose his bestfriend since primary school over something that petty. Well, he did thought you had a crush on him. But he would've accepted! Wait, he would've dated you? His best friend? What.

"Calm down and stop overthinking. She will come back." he muttered under his breath, hiding his face in his hands as he bent forward to support his elbows on top of his knees. "after all, she demanded that I should wait. I'm a bit distressed, that's all."

Maybe he should ask you out instead of the other way around. Yeah, maybe he should shoot his shot. You wouldn't reject him, would you? "Maybe I am delusional." he huffed, the blush slowly crept up to his cheeks.

All of a sudden—he felt something cold against his neck that resulted in him flinching. It was too cold for his liking. "Ah, cold!" he immediately sprang up from the bench as a reflex and took a few steps away.

Only to see you behind the seat with a confused expression.

"[name], stop scaring me! This isn't the first time I told you to quit!"

"What were you mumbling to yourself?" you huffed before throwing him something to his direction.

Isagi didn't had time to react but was fast enough to catch the box you had thrown. "Is that chocolate?" he blinked for a moment, not being able to tear his eyes away from the velvet box. This little box was prettier than the other one.

"Yeah. Thought it might cheer you up." you opened the can of cold soda you brought with you. "It's valentine's day, so a little present from your dearest friend won't hurt."

Taking in the sight infront of him, he felt how his face slightly heated up. "Thanks." was this a confession? Was this the confession he needed to be called delusional now? The box was really pretty. Even though it's bought.

"Make sure to pay back tenfold on white day, yes?" you teased him.

"Of course." he answered.

You were surprised by his beaming smile, not expecting this kind of response. So you returned his smile.

After that day, he saw you in an entirely different light. And you did so too.

After all, you're the funniest and prettiest! You're also the one who talked with him without hesitation on your first day of school even though your friends warned you about his weird behaviour. But you shrugged your shoulders with a playful smile.

BACHIRA MEGURU. when he took in the sincerity in your eyes—

　BACHIRA liked you. Not the romantic like-like, rather the plantonic like-like as a friend. But he somehow liked you more than a friend, less than a lover. Something inbetween probably. Again, not that he cares though.

You've been pretty good friends since then, always sitting next to him during most of the classes. And he's also the first one who gets asked by you if you wanna team up for the next school project—warning, he never does one thing to.

The only thing he'd do while you're doing the project is yap, yap and yap. You're doing the whole work. But he does help you if you need opinion or anything else. "Can you hand me the glue?" or "Scissors." or "What do you think? Is the text too small?"

Fast forward—you've grown to be pretty good friends. Silly jokes and banters never came to an end, the laughs were light and pleasant to the ears, shared hugs were warm and cuddly. People assumed you were a couple to be honest.

"Why did the crab cross the road? It didn’t—it used the sidewalk." he mimicked the tongs of a crab, arousing a laugh out of you.

"You're so silly, Meguru!" you laughed.

The jokes would've reminded someone of a dad joke, but for you, it was a first-class joke from the best comedian. Your shoulders slightly shook before you tried to calm yourself down, your aura beamed brightly like his as you smiled.

"Never stop being funny."

"Yes, ma'am!" he grinned, folding his arms on the table, "I had a joke about paper today, but it was tearable!"

One thing Bachira loved was that you shared a humor, laughing at the dumbest jokes together was like a dream for him. "You're so cute!" you squealed, grabbing his surprise soft cheeks. "Your cheeks are the best, man! Ahh!"

Not to mention, whenever you came close, he would notice the twinkle in your eyes—a twinkle that allowed him to believe your unmatched kindness and sincerity were genuine. Genuine for him and him alone.

People do say, eyes are the window of the owner's heart and soul. And Bachira always decided which person had good or bad intentions through their eyes. They were either carrying hatred in them or sincerity like you.

To be frank, he can see a person's heart the clearest through their eyes. And sometimes, when you're talking about things you love, he can't help but stare into your eyes the entire time and admire how they began to shine.

Unfortunately, he's unable to listen what you were saying, making you repeat things very often. Just like right now. "—guru? Meguru, are you zoning out again?" you asked, a little concerned about his attention span.

"What did you say?" he chimed in with a innocent smile, looking like a baby chick that was chirping.

"Ah nevermind!" you huffed, crossing your arms.

It's then when he realized he was being oblivious to his feelings all the time. Did he ever notice how pretty you are up close? Is this what people call crush? If it is, Bachira thinks he fell real deep for you. Like he has he biggest crush on you.

His grin faded for a second staring at your eyes that were filled with worry. "You okay?" you asked, touching his shoulder gently. Wow, he just fell in love with your eyes—they were genuine. Of course. We're talking about you.

"[name]..." he paused to jump on top of you, latching himself onto you, "I love you so much!"

"H-Hey, we're faLING!" you lost your balance.

And yet, he didn't let go.

Rin is also the one who thinks, wow how did she do this? Like, bringing him to the cinema to watch some damn romance movie. He would've rather watched the new horror movie that's out, but you wouldn't quit whining about the new lovey-dovey movie.

ITOSHI RIN. when he caught himself imagining a future with you—

　RIN thinks you're delusional. You're always talking about your dream man and then giggle like a highschool girl, ignoring the fact that you currently are a highschool girl. You were a bit— scratch that, you were delusional with those standards.

Sitting next to next each other, his eyes bore itself into the big screen that displayed some tragic scene. What a typical story. What a tragic scene. He cannot sit there anymore, the seat felt itchy and his mind drifted away.

Not long until he'll fall asleep. He can't though, not after hearing a quiet sob from his right. His eyes wandered to the side, only for them to land on your face—covered with tears as you sobbed like always when something sad happend.

You looked like the actress on the movie who also was crying because their love was impossible, forbidden love. "Quit crying like a baby." he whispered to not disturb other people, handing over a handkerchief for you.

"Thanks..." you mumbled and wiped your tears away.

“Wait for me, my lady...”

Rin continued to watch how the knight was giving the lady a handkerchief, his personal one he spent hours one to craft and decorate. "Once we'll see each other again, you can give it back. But I prefer you'd keep it." the knight swept her hair behind her hair.

"Please come back quickly." she plead.

"I will. That's a promise."

Suddenly, he felt someone lightly shaking his shoulder. It was you, giving him back his handkerchief. "Keep it." he paused. Just like in the movie. Did he catch himself locked in because of that movie? "Err..." he trailed off, knitting his eyebrows in confusion.

"Here." seems like you didn't hear it. "Or should I wash it before returning it?"

Quietly, he took back his handkerchief while shaking his head. "It's fine..." he grumbled under his breath, gripping onto the piece of cloth. His cheeks heated up because of the embarrassment he just said. He was not the knight in the movie.

But he secretly wouldn't mind if you're the lady. He also wouldn't mind, seeing you in the crowd of people, cheering his name during a match. He wouldn't mind if you kissed him for every goal he scored. He wouldn't—you infected him.

Did... did Rin just imagined you as a couple? You must have infected him with those thoughts. It's your fault. But he was wondering what kind of wedding dress would suit you perfectly. He could already hear the bells ringing—shit.

He deadpanned before hiding the upper part of his face with his hand. What is he thinking about? He was already imagining you two during your wedding. You would've looked beautiful though—and he said you were delusional!

"Rin, can I get my drink?" your voice snapped him out of your mind, asking for his drink. Why the heck does he have your drink?

"Huh?" he furrowed his eyebrows, giving you a drink—not seeing there was acutally a second drink.

"It's the wrong one... Did you buy sprite?" you returned the drink. "Rin, you gave me your drink."

Shoot.

"Sorry." he apologized, giving you the other one. Shit. Did you share an indirect kiss? He was drinking out of that one earlier! His face heated up because of... embarrassment? He is being lukewarm as fuck.

"Hope you don't mind that I drank out of your cup..." you whispered.

"I don't." he answered without hesitation.

The only thing he minds is that he caught himself slacking. "I'm going to the bathroom." he excused himself, standing up and quickly made his way out of here as you watched him in concern. Since when was the cinema so hot?

No Rin. You just realized that you had the biggest crush on [name].

"Did I do something wrong?" you muttered before returning to the movie. "Nevermind, it's an Itoshi we're talking about. He can deal with it."

At the end of all Rin knew—your love wouldn't be impossible.

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's — frame lock here I come !!!

[babejinxy]

In love with you - part 4

Pairing: Powder x fem!reader

Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff

Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…

A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull

Gert was about to call you to a quieter, more private place when you both heard Vender's voice calling her from the bar. "Gert, I need you here, now," he said. She huffed and looked back at you, "It seems like I was missed, I'll see you later tonight? Even if it's late, Zaun never sleeps." You laughed, "Of course, I'll be here." She approached you and kissed your cheek, "See you later, beautiful."

You had barely gotten away from Gert when another guy came up to you and put his hand on your shoulder. “I thought I’d never see you again, princess.” He was very blond and slender, you had no idea who he was. He noticed your look of confusion and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Deckard, the guy who sent you the note the other day.” So it was him, he was actually kind of cute, just like you thought, but it wasn't like you were interested in him. “You didn’t show up, I was thinking that maybe your friend hadn’t given you my note.” He said as he approached you, he seemed to be already drunk.

“I was just leaving,” you took a step back to get away from him. “Oh, I understand. I’m lucky to find you here today. Can we talk?” he said, pulling you by the waist. “I thought you wanted to talk,” you said, pushing him away from you. “Oh, come on? Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, getting closer again. You rolled your eyes and moved away from him again, “No, I don’t.” “Then what’s the problem love?”. Before you could answer, you heard Powder’s voice behind him.

“The problem is, she’s not interested right now,” she said, her hands on her hips, and you felt relieved to see her. He turned his head to look at her, “You’re the one who vouches for her, sweetheart?” he scoffed. “No, I’m the one who vouches for myself, and she’s right, I’m not interested.” He pursed his lips, “Alright, alright,” he held his hands up in surrender, “We can take this slow, how about I buy you a drink first, baby doll?”

Once again Powder butted in, this time she stopped beside you. “How about this, you go enjoy the party and spend your money on yourself, before you get kicked out of the bar.” He frowned and laughed, “And who’s going to kick me out, you? Is the bar yours by any chance?”, he said mocking her once more. “Something like that since my father owns the bar.” He wiped the arrogant smile from his lips, “Vender?!”, he said swallowing hard. “That’s it, are you going to leave her alone or will I have to call him to sort this out with you?” Once again he raised his hands in surrender, “kay, sorry to bother you,” he told you before disappearing from sight.

You looked at her, “hey,” you smiled. “Hey you,” she said, smiling awkwardly. “Thanks for that, Pow Pow.” She shrugged, “I couldn’t let him bother you”. “Good thing you showed up then, my savior,” you said laughing. “The guys here aren’t like the guys you’re used to, you have to know how to deal with them”. “It seems like you’ve learned well”. She shrugged, “I had to get by.”

Vender was keeping an eye on the two of you and decided to help out. He changed the upbeat song that was playing to a slower one and Powder looked at him. He smiled at her and made a sign to invite you to dance. Something in his gaze always comforted and encouraged her.

“Dance with me?” she asked suddenly, without thinking much otherwise she would lose her courage. You smiled and took her hand that was extended to you. She held your waist and you wrapped your arms around her neck and she led you to the music. Powder's heart was pounding inside her, she was nervous, this was much more than a dance with a best friend and the tension between the two of you proved it.

“He’s still staring at you,” she said, referring to Deckard. “Ignore him,” you said quietly. “No way,” she said, staring at him. “Why not?”. “Well, why…” she hesitated for a moment and then you interrupted her, laughing a little, “he’s the guy from the note.” She twisted her lips, “seriously?! So he’s nothing like you expected?”, she asked curiously. “Actually, I wasn’t expecting anything, but he’s disgusting.” The wind blew, making your perfume spread, she closed her eyes to smell you and then asked, “what about Gert?”.“Oh, she… well, she… she’s nice, she’s pretty, but…” you hesitated. “But?…”, Powder asked, stopping moving with you.

“But she’s not for me,” you closed your eyes and bit your lower lip, trying to hold back the tears, “all this life… all these people, this coming and going of loves in my life and I never wanted to admit that none of these people were my person, and I’m afraid of never… never finding the right person for me, that’s why I always gave myself so easily to anyone who came along and was never valued as I deserved.” Your eyes were watery, but you swallowed your tears. You took your arms off her neck and placed your hands on either side of her collarbone.

Powder brought her right hand to your face while she kept her other hand on your waist, where she pressed a little. “Y/n look at me”, she whispered in a hoarse voice. She was going to kiss you, she was finally going to taste your cherry lip gloss straight from your lips, like she always dreamed. You raised your gaze to her and in that moment looking into her eyes, with her breath mixing with yours, was the moment when everything came to the surface. Your feeling for her - that you had repressed for years - the love beyond friendship that you felt for her. In that moment you remembered that you had always been in love with her, but it was much easier to block that feeling than to live it. It was her, Powder was your person, the one you loved and would always love.

You started to feel your heart racing inside your chest, you were having trouble breathing, you were starting to have an anxiety attack. “Oh no! Powder I need… sorry, I need to get out of here.” You pulled away from her and ran away from everything.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You stopped in a dark alley away from The Last Drop and leaned against a wall to catch your breath and try to calm down from your anxiety attack. You began to cry frantically, sliding down the wall to the floor, where you buried your face in your hands. You knew it was too dangerous for someone like you to be in a dark alley alone in Zaun. But you were too panicked to be afraid of that.

You loved your best friend, in the romantic sense of the word. You realized this a few years ago, but you kept this feeling so bottled up inside you that you forgot about it. Then you realized, your fear wasn't of ending up alone, you just wanted to transfer everything you felt for Powder to someone else, that's why you had an endless list of boyfriends and girlfriends that didn't work out. It's amazing what our subconscious is capable of, isn't it?

You gradually calmed down and after the adrenaline and anxiety attack had passed, you began to notice how the night was getting colder and darker and you realized that you were in a dark alley alone in Zaun. As much as Vender had managed to control the bandits in the underground city, it was still dangerous for a Piltie like you to be there alone.

You pulled yourself together and thought it would be best to apologize to Powder for running away like that. You weren't ready to tell her how you felt about her, so you would make up an excuse for your behavior and everything would be resolved.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You went back to the bar and looked for her, but apparently she wasn’t there anymore. You bumped into Gert - who was walking with a tray of drinks in her hand - by accident as you walked through the dancing and singing crowd. “I’m sorry,” you said before realizing it was her. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just me,” she said winking at you, she leaned close to your ear, “just a few more hours and I’ll be free, you can make it up to me,” she kissed your cheek before going back to serving drinks. “Sorry Gert, not today,” you said to yourself.

You were trying to get out of the crowd when you felt someone pull you by the arm and grab your waist, you were relieved when you realized that this time it was Mylo. ​​“Hey, I looked for you everywhere, where’s Powder?”, he asked dancing with you. “I’d like to know too”, you said trying to get away from him. He spun you around and laid you down, holding your hand with one hand and the other on your back. You stood up and tried to get away from him, “Not now Mylo”, you said but he pulled you again and spun you around again. “See how great a partner I am, very attractive too”, he said boasting and then pouted to kiss you.

“I’m sure someone thinks so,” you said, turning your face away from him. “There’s not a girl at this party who wouldn’t want to be with me,” he boasted again, “but I only have my eyes on one,” he showed his teeth in a smile and raised an eyebrow at you. You pursed your lips and before you could try to move away from him again, Claggor appeared and put his arm around Mylo shoulders.

You took the opportunity and got out of Mylo's hands. "What's up Y/n? Is Mylo embarrassing himself again?" You held back a laugh, "no, he's a great dancer, but a terrible flirt." He crossed his arms and said, "she's just playing hard to get," he said convinced of it and you laughed, he was so ridiculous that it was almost funny, although Powder found it annoying. "Do you know where Powder is?" you asked finally. “She’s not here, I thought she was with you… have you tried checking her workshop?” Claggor replied. “I’ll stop by, thanks boys”.

“Hey, Y/n,” Mylo yelled behind you and you turned to look at him. “You can thank me in another way if you want, I wouldn’t mind if…”, he put his index finger to his lips and you understood what he wanted, you just rolled your eyes and went to look for Powder. You couldn’t see when Claggor slapped Mylo on the head, “oh, what the fuck is this you animal?!”, he said raising his arms. “Stop being an idiot,” Claggor replied. “Man… I don’t understand how you let a girl like Y/n climb out of your fingers,” he said massaging his head. “Powder is in love with her, you would realize if you weren’t such an asshole,” Claggor replied. Mylo curled his lips, “Powder? Seriously?”.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You entered Powder's workshop silently, she didn't notice you. She was sitting on the couch, with her knees to her chest and her head down. She was feeling terrible and embarrassed. You probably would have realized that she loved you beyond friendship and that's why you ran away. You didn't love her that way and it scared you. Now she had ruined everything and that would shake the friendship between you.

“Pow Pow?” you said, standing behind her. The sweet sound of your voice brought her out of her dark thoughts. She lifted her head and looked at you. Your eyes were still red from crying, you smiled at her, but she was too nervous to smile back. Although your smile could fix anything.

You approached her and sat next to her. “Look, I’m sorry I left like that, it was hard for me… to admit those things,” you said with a sigh. As she looked at you and felt your scent again so close to her, you right there in front of her made her remember Vender’s voice saying, “Isn’t she worth the risk?” Then she readjusted herself on the couch, turning to face you and gathering all the courage she had inside her.

“I think it’s time for me to admit some things to you too,” her heart could explode at any moment, just like yours. “The truth is, I always wished that all those people you were with could be me… I asked myself every day, “why not me?”, but then I remembered that you love me like a friend or even a sister, and it hurt, but…”. Your heart skipped a beat with each of her words, “Powder I…”, you interrupted her, but she interrupted you back, “wait please, let me talk… it hurts knowing that I’ll never be able to have you in any other way than as a friend, but I don’t care, having you in my life in any way is already worth it. I always watch you, when you're putting on makeup or reading or studying or even when you're not doing anything because... you're beautiful and perfect and it's good to just stop and look at you... I'm sorry I kept this in for all these years, it's just that I've always been afraid of ruining what we have, I couldn't bear to be without you around because the truth is that you're the love of my life, I..."

“... love you,” you both said the words in unison. She stopped for a moment and looked at you with her beautiful, bright blue eyes. “W-what?” she asked, her voice breaking. You smiled with your eyes watering, “I love you too Pow Pow, I held back that feeling because I thought it would be easier that way… I gave my heart to so many people when I should have given it only to you, to whom it always truly belonged, now I know that.”

She smiled and laughed a little, “How stupid we are… I could have had you from the beginning”, she whispered, bringing her face closer to yours, while looking from your lips to your eyes. “I think things have their right time to happen”, you whispered back. “But we make it so complicated”, she placed her hands on each side of your face and rested her forehead against yours. You held her wrists, “well, we don’t have to do this anymore”.

“I had a dream where I kissed you, I’ve had that dream a million times,” she whispered, looking at your lips. “You can kiss me now,” you said and at the same moment her lips kissed yours and she gasped as she finally felt the cherry taste of your lip gloss on your soft lips. You two smiled into the kiss and you wrapped your arms around her neck while her hands traveled to your waist.

She squeezed you a little and settled herself on the couch, making you understand what she wanted. Still with your lips on hers, you sat on her lap and at that moment, she deepened the kiss. Powder pulled your lower lip between her teeth and then slammed her tongue into yours, taking full control of the situation and swirling your tongue around hers and then biting your lip again. You never thought she could be so dominant, but you loved it.

She put her hands under your blouse and felt your hot, goosebumps-filled skin. She squeezed your waist again and you gasped into her mouth. It was your turn to pull her lower lip between your teeth and she squeezed your sides again at the sensation. Powder held the hem of your blouse and you only stopped kissing for her to take it off your body. Before she kissed you again, she ran her eyes over your round, perfect breasts, still covered by your white lace bra.

You both smiled and you went back to crashing your lips into hers and she soon dominated it again. Her hands went up from your waist to your breasts and she placed them there, just feeling the exposed skin of your breasts. She stopped the kiss and looked at her hands on your breast, her thumb drawing circles on the top of them slowly. You bit your lower lip and she - still with her hands on your breasts - went back to devouring your already red and swollen lips.

She laid you down on the couch, getting on top of you, her tongue still exploring every corner of your mouth. She stopped the kiss and nuzzled her nose your neck, feeling your goosebumps and your scent that she loved. She nuzzled her nose slowly down to the valley of your breasts still covered by your bra and returned to your neck where she finally began to plant hot kisses on your skin, you closed your eyes at the sensation as you moaned softly and sweetly…

So, part 5?

[billthedrake]

ORAL FIXATION (PART FOUR)

It was Dad's idea but I don't know why I hadn't thought of it. He didn't even bring it up with me in advance. Instead he sprung it one night at dinner.

"So..." Dad said to Mom as we ate. "Junior's gonna help me get in shape."

Mom laughed and looked over at me. "Is that so?"

I played dumb, like I knew what Dad was talking about. "Um, yeah."

"He's letting me tag along on his morning runs," Dad chimed in before I stumbled too much. "And we have a whole gym workout planned, too."

Mom seemed surprised and amused. Dad was a good looking guy with some solid muscle on him, but he spent a lot of time at work, and though he was on his feet most of the day, a doctor doesn't have the most active job.

She looked back and forth between me and Dad. "Well, good for you men," she said, smirking some.

***

I felt a little bad, because I had a good idea what Dad had on his mind. We were both up early the next morning, a little before dawn even. I'd seen Dad in his gym clothes before, but it had been a while, to be honest. But they showed off his hairy meaty legs as we did stretches in the driveway, feeling the cool morning air.

"Where you run to, son?" he asked.

I told him my route and the distance I normally did. We lived a half mile from a park with a nice trail system, so it gave me some variety. "We don't have to do the whole thing, Dad," I said, pulling back my heel to my glutes for that extra stretch, then the other leg. "Just let me know what you're feeling."

"I'm a little out of shape," he admitted. "But I'll keep up."

He did, too. Pretty well, though I knew my pace was faster than his. I slowed down some, but I had that teenage energy working for me. I looked over at him after a couple of miles, and he looked at me.

"Doing OK, Pop?" I asked.

He nodded, a little of breath. "Yeah, Junior."

Only his eyes were on me. Probing, and more than a little hungry. We were circling in the wooded area of the park, and had only passed two joggers so far. The way my father looked at me excited me and gave me a half-stiff dick even mid stride. "You want it, Dad?" I asked quietly.

"Um, yeah," he said, nodding excitedly.

We slowed our gait to a trot and a walk, then I followed as he led us into the woods and behind a larger tree.

I stood and pulled down my shorts as his fingers traced along my bare thighs, his eyes fixed eagerly on my crotch, awaiting his next meal.

Before that morning, I knew Dad was an incredible cocksucker, and I knew we had that forbidden-thrill bond of his blowjobs. But that day I realized just how much Dad needed my cum, how addicted he was to blowing me.

The tree bark was a little scratchy, but I leaned back to steady myself as Dad took me into his mouth. No foreplay really, just nice steady mouth strokes up and down, working extra length down his gullet as he got into it.

I got into it, too, cradling his head gently and silently coaxing him to work my load out. I could see the silver flecks in his brown hair. Respectable doctor on his knees for a hot no-recip incest blowjob.

"Yes," I hissed. I knew we had to be quiet, but I missed talking to Dad while he sucked me. But this was naughty and hot, and I knew we were both worked up. Dad let out his own soft moan around my cock as my dick spurted its first salvo of precum. It had taken only a minute and wouldn't be much longer for the full cum, given how horny I always am in the morning.

Dad worked me more rigorously, deep and with high suction. And doing something with his tongue. That did it. I curled my fingers in his hair and held tightly as I blasted hard. A good seven or eight spurts of his son's seed right into his craw and straight into his belly. Dad sucked it down gratefully.

He didn't belabor the aftershocks but gave my wet dick a gentle kiss as he pulled off, then looked up and winked at me. I could see he was erect when he stood up, but true to form he didn't make any move for reciprocation.

"Maybe that'll slow you down," he whispered with a laugh.

I pulled up my shorts and laughed back.

By the time we got back, Dad's hardon had gone down and I felt more ready for my day than ever. It was surprisingly matter of fact between us, even, as we did our cool-down stretches and talked about how the run was for Dad, what his goal was.

"Tomorrow, same time, buddy?" he asked, giving my shoulder a light punch as we walked into the kitchen to rehydrate.

I'd been in a conditioning phase for football but generally aimed for running every other day. But if Dad was gonna be my running buddy, I'd make it every day for sure.

***

We skipped some mornings, but I got used to the ritual. I was a horny jock, and it was just mindblowingly great to have a fatherly blowjob to start most days. Jake Gehring made a crack about me being in a good mood lately, but for some reason I wasn't sure I should share the development with my buddy. I'm not sure why.... Dad had sucked Jake a couple of times. Given my friend's moods when he showed up at school, I'm sure Mr. Gehring was giving him the same treatment.

I wasn't being greedy, honest, the escalation just kind of happened. Dad had drained me good and well on our morning run, but around 7 o'clock one evening, he knocked on my door and stepped in, barechested and wearing just a pair of shorts. God, he was looking incredible with his lightly furred chest and muscle showing its pump from his workout in our basement home gym. And there was those clean-cut, professional looks. Hot doctor with a secret side.

"Your mother just left for her book club," he announced with a playful grin. "You up for a blow job?"

I liked this side of Dad. Matter of fact. Sexual. Needy.

"Hell yeah," I smiled. "If you're offering." I'd gotten off big that morning, Dad always gets me off well when he sucks. But I was a teen, and I had a pretty high sex drive.

"I'm offering," he grinned back, stepping in and closing the door. "Though maybe we can take our time." He got up on the bed and ran his hands up my legs. Dad seemed to really like my legs, or maybe that was his way of foreplay to get me going.

"You want me to last longer?" I asked. Maybe not insecure but feeling like a young guy with a lot to learn about sex. "You get me so worked up, it's sometimes hard to last," I admitted.

Dad chuckled. "I like that, Junior," he said. "I love when you cum fast... but I was thinking it would be fun to edge you a little tonight.... I mean, we have the time to play."

I knew what edging was, but never had really done it. I was usually too impatient to cum. "Sounds hot, Dad."

And like that, my father scooted up and cautiously met me for a kiss. We'd kissed before, but not much. I got the sense Dad only let himself do it when he was really horny. He was really horny now, I could tell by the feel of his boner in his shorts, pressing against mine.

I fucking loved it, though. I mean, I love kissing in general and making out with Dad was a mind fuck and a half that made my cock drip big time.

We both laughed as we broke the kiss. Like we'd gotten carried away.

"You OK with this, Junior?" Dad asked.

I ran my hands along his bare flank, feeling his warmth and firm muscle beneath the middle age softness. "Dad... you're fucking sucking my cock every day... of course I'm gonna be OK with this."

I worried I was too direct, but Dad just chuckled. "You're a horny kid all right," he said. Now his fingers ran underneath my T-shirt, feeling up my bare muscle. "And I'm VERY happy to take care of my hot young man." From anyone else that would have sounded slutty, but from Dad, it was just weirdly paternal and hot.

I gulped. "God, Dad."

"You'd say if we were doing this too much, right?" he looked in my eye, even as his fingers now ran beneath the elastic waistband of my mesh shorts.

I gulped and nodded. My cock lurched, feeling the aching closeness of his hand. It was like it had been 12 days since I'd last gotten off, not 12 hours. "Trust me, Dad... if anything it's the opposite."

That made him pause and look right into my eye. "You want it more, Junior."

My throat felt dry and I felt hot and sexual. "Fuck, Dad," I didn't normnally curse like that around my father, but something about the blowjobs changed the dynamic. "I don't mean it like what you're doing for me isn't enough... but yeah, I think about it a lot."

Dad peeled down my shorts, taking my briefs with them. My hardon was bared for him, throbbing and rigid. He took a second to openly admire it. Like he did each morning on our runs, but instead of a second to get a look, he had as much time as he wanted. We didn't need to rush this.

"We'll figure out a way, buddy," he said. "Put you on the twice a day plan," he winked. Then more softly he growled. "Damn, I love your cock so much son."

His fingers now traced my length slowly, openly, his eyes going from my dick and back up to meet my gaze. His blowjobs were incredible, but there was something powerful and intimate about this, too.

"Um, Dad," I said, a little nervous.

He looked back up at me. "Yeah, buddy?" In that you-can-ask-me-anything tone he'd use in our father-son chats.

Here goes. "I notice you rarely get off yourself," I said.

Dad seemed prepared for my comment, like he was surprised I hadn't asked him before. "I like to save it for your mother, Junior," he answered. "Makes me feel less guilty about what we're doing." Then fixing my gaze... "Too much information?"

I shook my head. "All good, Dad. Just wanna make sure.... you know... I don't wanna be an asshole or anything."

"We're good, son," Dad said, giving my bone a steadier stroke now. "Truth is, it's my way of edging, too.... can't get enough."

I sat up on my elbows, looking down. I wanted him to suck me so bad now. "Anytime you want it, Dad, just let me know. For real... I'm always horny."

Dad didn't reply but just moistened his lips. Then he leaned over and took my stick in between his surprisingly soft lips. At some point I'd have to ask him where he learned to suck dick so well. But that could wait. For now, I just enjoyed the feel of his warm wet mouth making love to my prick. Up and down, bobbing with fuller strokes till he was deep throating me.

"Dad!" I cried. I knew I'd cum any second.

Dad pulled off instantly and attacked my balls. It was the perfect stimulation, but one that fed my lust without making me boil over. He did this for a minute than took my whole cock on again.

Edging or not, we could only go a couple of times at this before my load had a mind of its own. As Dad was making his retreat from my dick, I was already firing against his tongue. My ejaculation caught him by surprise but he went back into full on milking mode to suck my balls dry.

"Sorry, Dad," I said as he finally came up from my lap.

Dad grinned. "Not a problem, son.... was it good?"

"The best," I answered. "I just know you wanted to go longer tonight."

Dad scooted up to lie beside me. "Well, your mother will be out till about 10...." he reached down and ran his fingers along my spit and cum wet half-hard dong. "You think maybe you got another in you?"

I smirked back at him. "I'd say so, Dad... definitely."

That was the first day Dad swallowed three of my loads, but not the last.

****

I wasn't real tight with Matt Carson, I mean he seemed a cool enough guy but he wasn't a football jock and was on the quieter side. Almost nerdy quiet. But he was friendly in his way as he stopped me in the hall one day between periods at school.

"Hey Mike," he said. Unlike guys on the team or my close buddies, Matt didn't call me by my last name. I guess I used his first name, too.

"Matt," I said, not giving him a fist bump like I might my buddies. "What's up?"

"What are your plans Saturday?" It was December and it was the rare week when the high school had no sports going on.

I shrugged. "No plans yet. Why?"

He was still guarded but more talkative than I'd ever seen him. "It's my birthday this weekend and I thought of having a few guys over. If you're interested..."

This surprised me. I wasn't a close bud with Matt. Then again, I worried he was the kind of dude who didn't have any close buds. I felt bad. "Sure, sounds cool," I said. Maybe I was getting myself into an awkward evening, but whatever.

I was glad to see a big smile on Matt's face. "Awesome, man... I wasn't sure..." he started. "It's at 7, just pizza and stuff... but guys are free to stay over if they want." There was something to the look in his eye that made me wonder if something was up. Maybe it wouldn't be a key party but a Mr. Carson BJ might be in the works. "I'll check with my folks," I said. "But I'll see you at 7."

We bumped fists and walked on to our classes.

****

It did seem to be just pizza and stuff. I sat wondering if my Dad was upset or jealous. Mom had been the one I asked for permission to stay over at Matt's, and I could see Dad's quiet but noticeable facial expression. I'd have to clear the air with him later, but part of me resented this part of our weird affair.

Especially because it didn't look like anything sexual was even going to happen.

However, around 9:00, Drew, one of Matt's basketball teammates, and Connor, one of the popular kids in school, had to go. I think Drew's parents were pretty strict and maybe religious, whereas Connor just had a hot date. That left Matt, me, my teammate Alex Ramirez, and another basketball player, Daryl, a tall chocolate-skinned jock who was kind of moody when I'd met him before but now seemed a lot more chill.

We were playing video games and I hadn't noticed Daryl had gone more than a couple of minutes. Hell, maybe he was just gone a couple of minutes. But he came back with a conspiratorial grin on his face. "Dayum, Matty... your old man has skills all right."

I was caught off guard, my face darting between the guys... Daryl, with his shit-eating grin, then Matt, who blushed some, then Alex who was amused by my surprised reaction.

"I guess you missed the last key party huh, Walsh?" Rodriguez teased, leaning back to spread his legs. "We got a new member to the club," he explained, gesturing toward Daryl.

Daryl now was getting a more earnest look on his face, leaning in some as he fixed me with his gaze. "Matty says your dad's a great cocksucker."

Part of me wanted to tell the guy not to talk about my father like that. But he was right, and besides, the appeal of the guys talk won me over. "Fuck, dude, I can't resist a blowjob from him."

Alex was now getting impatient. He gripped his crotch, where a thick rod rode up in his sweats. "It is my turn, Carson?" he asked the host. "I'm not supposed to fuck around without Dad there, so keep this a secret, OK?"

Matt chuckled. "Yeah, you got it."

I watched the hunky tight end stand up. Alex had the height, build, and athleticism of a star player, and it turns out he had the tool to match. Mr. Carson was gonna get a mouthful.

Now Matt seemed to get his normal shy side coming out. "You OK with this Mike?" he asked. "I figured..."

"Yeah," I said. "I wasn't sure if it was gonna be this kind of party, but that's very cool."

Carson smiled. "It's kind of my birthday present, actually. Dad putting out for my buddies," he explained. "It's been one of my fantasies."

Daryl laughed as he picked up the control to take over playing the video game. "You are one kinky motherfucker."

Carson seemed to relax. I realized he craved to be teased, to be one of the guys.

"What's the fantasy?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Dad taking care of you all. Multiple times if you want."

"I'm gonna want," Daryl piped, reaching down to rearrange his junk. He seemed hung, but not quite as big as Matt, who had a really long schlong. "Shi-ut"

"Yeah, me too," I said. Mr. Carson had never drawn Dad's keys at one of our oral parties, so I'd not yet experienced his mouth.

I'd have to wait a while longer. Rodriguez was taking his own sweet time, damnit. I tried to make small talk with Matt while Daryl played his turn, but I was getting harder by the minute.

"Your Dad OK with you having fun tonight?" Matt finally asked, nodding to my boner.

"I don't know, actually," I said. "We didn't talk about it. I don't really give a fuck," I said, even though maybe I did.

Alex finally came back in, olive complexion flush redder and a his hair actually sweaty. "Damn, Carson," he said to Matt. "Who's birthday is it?"

Already I was standing up, impatient to claim my first blowjob.

I sort of knew my way around the Carson McMansion, and I saw the light from the end of the hall upstairs saying where the master bedroom was. The door was ajar, and I quietly stepped up and gave a little knock.

"Mr. Carson?" I asked. I don't know why, but I was in polite guest mode.

"Yep," came the deep voice inside. "Come in."

There was a magnificent sight. Dave Carson's 40-something body naked and splayed face down, all 6'6" of his lean daddy build lying on the king sized bed. For a man of his build, his ass was surprisingly round, an almost pert bubble butt dusted in hair. Even from a few feet away, I could see the buns were wet.

Mr. Carson turned his head back but didn't make a motion to move. "There's lube on the nightstand," he said matter of factly. "And rubbers if you want. None of the other guys did," he chuckled before laying his face back down on the pillow.

I wouldn't say I never thought about fucking, but I'd never thought about fucking one of the key party dads. There had always been such a strict oral-only rule. But this wasn't a key party and the usual rules clearly didn't apply.

I stepped up and ran my hand along his calves. Furry and warm, I don't know why but it felt naughtier than normal to touch Mr. Carson like this. "Did Daryl and A both do you, Mr. C?"

He nodded. "Drew, too. Twice. I'm gonna be a little wet down there, Mike."

Fuck. I didn't know if this was crossing some line Dad didn't want me to cross. Like Rodriguez said, this secret could stay with the guys at the party. I slipped down my sweats and kicked them aside. I almost didn't both removing my T shirt but I enjoyed the dreamy smile on Mr. Carson's face as I did.

Yeah, I had a great body, thick and toned and athletic, but I was also just a high school senior who felt like a goddamn porn star just then. I climbed up on the bed, kneeling behind Matt's dad first, so I could run my hands along his hamstrings and ass muscle, taking it all in. My first fuck with a guy.

I dipped my finger in the crack. Mr. C wasn't kidding, he was wet as fuck. I wouldn't need lube on my cock. I didn't know what I was doing other than imitating porn videos. It was a good thing the man was all loose now and relaxed. As I stretched out on his warm body and guided my prick in place, his hole welcomed me instantly, its elastic wetness opening for my cock.

"Fuck!" I grunted.

"Your first, Mike?" Dave Carson asked excitedly. Realizing.

"Hell yes," I said. Now powering in for my first real thrust inside another man. The entry had been loose but once I bottomed out I felt the snugness of his guts around me.

I fucked in again.

"Go for it," Mr. Carson urged. "Fuck me."

The man braced his hands on the mattress, fingers digging in a little when I bottomed out a little too hard or deep. But he didn't complain or tell me to slow down. So I rode it out. I loved getting head, and I'd continue to love it. But this was different and exciting and a completely different set of sensations along my prick. I wanted to maximize that feeling so I fucked faster. Harder.

I planted my lips along Mr. Carson's neck. I got some height on me, but Mr. C is one tall motherfucker. Or I was a dadfucker. The idea had me cumming, my own dad and Mr. Carson melding into one.

When I finally dismounted, my dick was coated in frothy cum.

"Bring it here, stud," came the deep voice in soft instruction.

"You sure?" I asked. I mean, the man's hole was clean, but there was a lot of lube and a lot more sperm on my dick.

He just scooted around to take me in between his lips. Then descended deeper. I learned that day the difference between a real blowjob suck and a clean off suck. Mr. Carson gave it a soft kiss as he pulled off.

"You're amazing, Mike," he said. His blue eyes looked up at me. It was wild this masculine man was so into dick, but then again I could say that about my dad, or Mr. Gehring or Mr. Rodriguez. "Hopefully you're up for more later."

"Yes, sir," I said in dumb politeness. Now embarrassed, I found my sweats and T-shirt and slipped them on.

Matt was waiting outside the door, naked and hard with the long cock sticking up. He'd watched us.

"Hot, bro," he grinned.

"Yeah," I said. I leaned in to whisper. "You do this often?" I had to ask. I wasn't the brightest guy maybe.

Matt nodded with a pride glee. "All the time. It's hot, right?"

He didn't give me a chance to answer the rhetorical question. He patted my shoulder and walked past me into his father's bedroom.

I gave them their privacy.

****

I fucked Mr. Carson twice more that night. The third time I barely had anything to shoot, but I wanted the chance to enjoy the new experience again. I didn't keep track of the other guys, but they did him at least that much.

We woke up late, and Mr. Carson was still sleeping in. Matt was back to his quiet mode and could have been having regrets, so we kept things cool, talking about school stuff.

I got home by 11. Dad had a nervous look on his face. I felt frustrated. But I kept my poker face as I told my parents I had a good time and checked in. I then went off to shower. I had homework to do and then get to the gym.

I'd barely slipped on my underwear when Dad knocked on the door.

"Have fun, buddy?" he asked quietly, slipping into my room.

I nodded. I loved showing off my body to my father. Something about fucking Mr. Carson made me feel like an even bigger stud than normal. "You mad, Dad?"

"Not if it's what you want, Junior," he said. Then dropping to a whisper he added. "I know I don't take care of your needs enough."

Holy head fuck, Dad knew how to drive me crazy. The man sucked me at least once a day now, and often two or three times. And here was my mild-mannered, professional father acting like it wasn't enough.

"Shut the door, Dad," I whispered.

He got an excited look on his face. This was risky as fuck.

I peeled down my underwear and let my prick flop out. Unbelievably it was firming up again. Dad crouched down and hungrily caught the expanding head in his mouth. I lately learned he loved to have me go hard in his mouth. He was getting that today and going wild, moaning around my teen meat and scarfing it down. Within seconds I was fully erect and Dad was bobbing up and down on me.

This was me with a sex hangover going for hair of the dog. One of my Dad's prize-winning blowjobs. Nasty incest sucking. I watched his salt pepper hair and his hunched shoulders and savored the soft squishy sucking sounds combined with his quiet moans. Dad was going to have to work a little harder for this load, but he was up to the task. It might have been his best technique to date, the right combination of hard and silky-soft. Fingers on my ball sac, coaxing out my load.

I reached down and gripped his shoulder, giving him a soft squeeze to let him know I was coming. He hoovered down my semen as fast as I fed it to him. I was lightheaded, the orgasm was that good.

And as quickly as it started Dad retreated, pulling off and wiping his chin, before standing up. Nervously he darted to the door, listening ear to the wood, before he cracked it open, then slipped outside.

****

I was too tired for more that day, and Dad didn't pester me for anything more. I got a quickie Monday morning as Mom showered. But on Tuesday Dad somehow found time to get me off three times. Mom's book club was the best thing ever, I decided.

I lay back on the bed as Dad knelt between my spread legs, softly kissing my now sated genitals.

"For spring break, some of the dads are organizing a beach trip. Just guys," he said.

"Yeah?" I asked, perking up at the implications Dad seemed to be dropping.

He grinned and looked up at me. Like it was a chore to break eye contact with my dick. "If that appeals to you, Junior."

"Oh yeah. Who's gonna be there?"

"The usual. Carson, Gehring, and Heller. We're working on Joe Marino."

"Hot," I said. My prick was filling out some thinking of the possibilities. "Dad..." I said, my voice getting more serious. "I fucked Mr. Carson." I was going to keep this a secret, but I wanted to clear the air.

"Oh," Dad said, taken aback. He then got his encouraging paternal expression. "You enjoy that, Junior?"

I nodded. "A lot. Yeah."

He seemed to take that in. "I don't think I could do that," he said simply.

"I'm not expecting you to, Dad," I said. "Unless you wanted to." I had to throw the idea out there.

"Can we just keep it to this?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I replied. My dick was hard now. I pushed it down, offering to Dad in case he wanted to go for number four. "How bout now?"

He smiled. "You got a beautiful cock, Junior." He scooted forth and began licking me again.

"And I have the best cocksucker for a father," I teased. I always worried I was going too far when I said stuff like that, but Dad seemed more excited now, swallowing me deeper. I placed my hand on the back his neck and playfully held him there a couple of seconds before took more meat into his craw.

Hell yes we were going for number four. Dad taking his time, me focusing my erotic thoughts to get off again. To get over the finish line for Dad.

And as I came down from my intense fourth come, I decided I was going to have to do something special for Dad, to thank him for taking such good care of me.

[rosiewitchescottage]

We have a 14 year girl whose mother died shortly after her birth. Her father married again. We don't find out how long after it was that he died. But given Queen Grimhild's character, it's not hard to guess that she had a 'magical' hand in it.

She got The Power of being sole ruler. Playing 'mother' to another woman's daughter was clearly not on her list.

What age was Snow White relegated to 'Scullery Maid' status? My guess is that it was when puberty hit, and it was clear that she was going to be a stunningly beautiful woman with the sweetest nature.

Grimhild wants two things, the power of being Queen and to be regarded as the most beautiful woman around.

I doubt that she wants to remarry, that would mean sharing power, after all. But she doesn't want to see any other woman getting so much as admired.

The 1937 Disney Snow White appears to be set in Medieval Europe, so we can assume that when Snow White got to 14, her father would have been sorting out a marriage for her.

With him out of the way, Grimhild can make sure that Snow White is seen by no one but servants and animals.

Snow White is lonely, and that's a serious state to be in. At the wishing well, what does she ask for? She longs for someone to love her and speak kindly to her.

If that isn't enough to make us want to pull her into a hug, then I don't know.

Is Prince Florian the 'stalker' that Rachel Zeglar accused him of being? Well I don't see it through the same 'modern' lense. I'm an old fashioned girl and glad of it. I'll say that he is not.

If Snow White's 14, I'd guess that he's about 16, so it's likely that his father is planning a marriage for him.

We don't know how many beautiful girls have been introduced to him. But clearly, there's something about this singing scullery maid that's caught his attention beside her being so beautiful.

My guess is that it's her wanting something as simple as a kind word. He doesn't know that she's actually a princess. And there's not a sign that she's self pitying. She's wistful, but in telling the birds about the power of the wishing well, she clearly believes that it will work.

After this scene, we don't encounter him again until he finds Snow White in the glass coffin.

So what does this tell us that he's been doing in the meantime? Clearly he's been looking for her!

And for a young man of his time, who probably has girls lining up for his attention, to do that, he must surely be planning to offer her marriage.

If he just wanted to 'play around' then why spend so much time looking for this one girl?

Now there's the question of how a Prince could offer marriage to a scullery maid.

But maybe he's been able to find out who she really is. Let's face it. The news of Snow White's birth won't have been kept quiet. Maybe there was talk between Florian's father and Snow White's Father of them one day forming a marriage alliance?

Then Snow White's father remarries and when he mysteriously dies, the agreement is conveniently forgotten.

People are going to have wondered where a king's daughter vanished to. Maybe Grimhild spun a yarn about her being away at school?

Has Florian been getting questions asked in out of the way places, and gossip has revealed what actually happened to Snow White?

So now he knows that there's no barrier to him offering marriage if he can find her, if she's alive. And if she's dead, he can pay respects at her grave.

Is that romantic, or is it stalking? I suppose it depends on how you see it. And on how the thing is being conducted.

Looking for a missing person is hardly stalking, surely?

One major mistake people make when looking at Snow White is assuming that they were trying to create a Disney Princess role model for little girls to emulate, when actually they were just trying their darndest to create an animated character that audiences would care about.

When we see pure and innocent Snow White being mistreated by her stepmother and later driven into exile, it's supposed to activate parental instincts that make us want to protect her. It shouldn't matter if she doesn't do anything to save herself, because she shouldn't have to. We're supposed to feel the injustice of it, feel sad and angry that she's treated this way, fear that she's going to come to harm. We're not supposed to want to be her, we're supposed to love her, and want to see her get the love she deserves, so we remain invested for the entire runtime of this 80-minute cartoon that they're afraid audiences won't sit through. That's what mattered to the story while they were making it, so applying Disney Princess expectations is ridiculous.

[kamisobsessed]

Happy New Year, Soldier Boy

Characters: Soldier Boy x F!Reader, Annie x Reader (platonic), mentions of Hughie, Butcher, Frenchie, Kimiko, MM, etc.

Summary: Annie and Hughie invite you and the other members of 'The Boys' over for a New Years Eve party. You and Soldier Boy don't always get along. When the New Year is about to ring in, you don't have anyone share a New Year's kiss with, but Soldier Boy changes that.

Warnings: Enemies/lovers (sort of if you squint), Soldier Boy (because he's definitely a warning), swearing, fluff, sexual remarks, alcohol, no use of y/n.

A/N: Sorry if this sucks, I finished it quickly because I wanted to post it. I was debating on a smut part 2, but I'm still not confident in my smut writing skills. Let me know what you think!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Please you have to come, I don't care if you don't have a date, we have to celebrate New Years together," Annie said on the other end of the line.

You sat your phone down on your bed after pressing the speakerphone button. "Annie, I love you, but I really don't want to come to your party and be the third wheel between you and Hughie," you chuckled as you stood in your bedroom folding the laundry you just finished doing.

"No third wheeling I promise," she said "pinky swear."

"Fine, fine. What's the dress code?" you asked.

"Casual, whatever you are comfortable with, thank you for saying yes, how can I ring in the New Year if my best friend isn't around?" She teased.

"Yeah yeah, I'm sure you would be just fine with your boyfriend," you replied.

"Maybe, but I still want you here too," she said.

"Okay, I'll be there. Don't expect me on time though," you said.

"You're never on time to anything, I would never expect that," she joked back, "I'll see you tonight!" and with that she hung up.

You put your folded clothes away and decided to take a shower before the party.

The party starts at 8, but you have never been known to show up to things on time. Always the procrastinator.

After your shower, you stood in front of your standing mirror trying to decide what outfit to wear. Eventually you went with your favorite party outfit. It was already 7:45pm and you just finished changing into your outfit and fixing your hair and applying some light makeup.

When 8 o'clock rolled around, you were just leaving your apartment. You let out a soft sigh as you entered your car to drive to Annie and Hughie's place for the party. You were hoping Annie's promise would stick.

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

You pulled up to Annie and Hughie's and went up to their door and lightly knocked. The door swung open and Annie practically pulled you inside into a hug.

"I'm so glad you came!" She exclaimed, releasing you from the hug.

"Hope I didn't have to bring anything," you said, noticing the table of finger foods to eat.

"No, we got it all covered. Come on, we were gonna do karaoke," she said pulling you into the living room.

You scanned the room noticing Frenchie, Kimiko, MM, Monique, Butcher, and some other random people you didn't know.

And then you noticed him. Soldier Boy. Ever since he started working with The Boys, you and him constantly butt heads. He always has something to say about everything you do, or he's trying to get into your pants. He enjoys trying to get under your skin, so you give the same treatment back to him.

Sometimes you do find yourself wondering what it would be like, in bed with Soldier Boy. There's no denying how incredibly handsome he is. But the way he treats you and your friends, you could never do that.

Soldier Boy noticed you standing with Annie. He excused himself from the ladies who were gawking over him and made his way over to you.

"Why is he here?" You grumbled to Annie.

"We invited everyone, even him," Annie said. "Play nice."

"There is no playing nice with him," you said.

"Well look who decided to show up," he said, his infamous smirk plastered on his face.

"Piss off, Ben," you spat back.

"Have a heart, doll, it's almost a New Year!" he grinned, giving you a wink. You tried to hide the blush that began forming on your face.

"I need a drink," you sighed and you walked away to grab a drink from the minibar. You stood there taking a sip of whatever whiskey you poured yourself.

Annie called your name, "c'mon we're gonna start karaoke soon!" she said as she waved you over.

You headed back into the other room with everyone, standing with Annie. They put karaoke on the TV and people began taking turns singing songs.

Everyone eventually convinced Ben to sing Rapture. You just stood back against the wall nursing your whiskey, back behind everyone crowding around him. Everyone listened or danced along with Ben, but his eyes eventually found you. You noticed him staring at you, a smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes trying to look away from him, but his stupid little dance moves made the ends of your mouth slightly curl up. When he noticed your small smile, his smirk turned into a grin as he finished singing the song for everyone.

Ben made his way to you through the crowd of compliments on his performance. "You like the song?" he asked leaning back against the wall next to you.

"s'okay," you shrugged, looking anywhere in the room except at him.

"Back in the day that song was a hit, especially when I performed it," he said.

"Don't you have someone else to bother or some chick to fuck?" you asked, finally turning to look at him.

He smirked, "is that an invitation?"

Yes. No, no it wasn't, get it together.

You rolled your eyes walking back to the minibar to refill your whiskey. Ben followed you.

"I didn't hear a no," he said, "you know, with how bratty you are, you probably need a good fuck."

"You're insufferable," you said, "just leave me alone." you walked away again to go find Annie.

You tried to stay with or near Annie most of the night. It was almost midnight, you were standing back over by the wall like you were before. Annie was off somewhere with Hughie, and everyone else was getting ready to countdown the New Year.

A tall man walked over to you, "Hey beautiful, what're you doing over here all alone?" he asked you.

"I'm not interested," you say, trying to ignore him as he stood closer to you.

"It's New Year's, baby, everyone needs a New Year's kiss," he said, getting more and more uncomfortably close to you, no matter how much you tried stepping away.

Suddenly the man got yanked back away from you, "The lady said she's not interested, so fuck off," Ben said, pushing the man away.

The man walked away without a second thought.

"Wow, my hero," you said dryly.

"No need to thank me, doll," he grinned.

It was now 2 minutes til midnight, you and Ben were still standing by the wall as people watched the TV of the ball dropping in Times Square.

"I'm surprised you don't have some woman's throat you're ready to stick your tongue down," you said to him. In the back of your mind, you hoped it would be you.

"And leave you over here all mopey and alone?" he smirked.

"I'm fine on my own, I don't need you or anyone to keep me company," you lied. "Go find your New Year's kiss."

"I found it," he said looking at you.

10...9...8...7...

"What?" you said, as he reached his hands up cupping your face, "Ben..." you hesitate. You didn't stop him. Did you want this? Yes. Maybe? Too late now...Fuck he's so hot.

4...3...2...1...

He closed the gap between the both of you. His lips gently pressed against yours, you placed your hands on his chest as he held you close to him. Your lips moved together so in sync, you never wanted to let him go.

He pulled his lips away, leaning his forehead against yours. "Happy New Year, doll," he said.

You had a small smile on your face, "Happy New Year, Soldier Boy."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: Well, that was...that. Side note, I fucking love Soldier Boy. Like, I know he's a misogynistic, egotistic, asshole, but like...yes please.

Taglist: @sl33pylilbunny

[amorre1989]

strange visit and a date night

pairing: Spencer Reid; reader; Derek Morgan

word count: 3,8k

story?: After Spencer runs to the grocery store to buy some things to have a date night with you, but, to surprise of both of you, agent Derek Morgan suddenly shows up at his door.

"alright so, eggs, flour, garlic, wine and tomato sauce, is that it?" he asks checking on the list you just gave him.

"perfect" you answer smiling.

"alright, I'll be back in a second" he says, kissing you softly while holding the back of your head gently. You smiled and let him get out of his own apartment. While waiting for him, you decided to do a little cleaning, you had already become a master in "Spencer Reid's ethics for deep cleaning a house", so cleaning the way he likes was easy as pi (as he would say).

While you were trying to get rid of a stain of sauce from a plate you heard a knock, honestly you just walked to the door you didn't even think about the knock not being Spence, so you opened it. There, standing in front of you, was a dark skin man, very tall and ripped, and bald.

You smiled and he looked surprised.

"uhm, I'm sorry, I think I got mixed with the numbers..." he said, checking again the number of the door. "mhm..weird"

"are you looking for Spencer Reid?" you asked, then you saw his face changing from confusion to super confusion.

"I am, yes"

"this is his apartment, he went grocery shopping"

"are you?...staying with him? or are you maybe being tutored or something?" "tutored?" you thought.

"no, I'm his... something" you said, you haven't discussed it yet...so it would be better to just leave it there.

He burst out laughing and held himself in the doorframe, you smiled, thinking it was funny.

"sorry, are you his friend?" you asked

"I'm Morgan, yes, I work with him" he said exchanging hands with you.

"oh!" now it all made sense "yes! of course, he always talks about you, come in please, if you wanna wait for him"

"I do! yes, thank you baby".

You closed the door and waited together for Spence while sipping coffee and chatting, being interrogated too "how'd you too meet?, how long have you been seeing each other?, do you live together?, why hasn't he said anything before?". So many questions you didn't know how far you could answer.

Then, you hear the sound of the keys opening the door.

"inflation is crazy, and old women should learn to calm down, that woman thought I wanted her stupid cat sand and we don't even-" he stood still, observing the image, you, his now 6 month old not girlfriend, and his womanizer attractive coworker, sitting on his couch together while apparently have been drinking the coffee he bought for you.

"hey pretty boy" says Morgan smiling "you didn't tell me you have a girlfriend"

"I uhm...what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to ask you if you- don't avoid my question!" he says standing up, are they gonna fight?, no, he'll finish Spence.

"it's private" he says leaving the bags and looking at you, you just smile, agreeing, it is private...well not so much because everyone knows but it's not like it's official.

"would you like to stay for dinner?" you ask.

"no!" shouts Spence from the kitchen, you and Morgan look at each other and chuckle.

"no, we had a date night planned" he says coming back to you both.

"alright, alright, I'll leave you too alone then...I came because I wanted to ask you where you buy your clothes, I need to wear something like your shirts to an event" he says.

"I'll send you the info later...just leave" he says pushing him out of the house, you laugh.

"goodbye princess" he says and you wave at him.

Spencer closes the door behind him standing with Morgan at the hallway.

"that's a pretty one you have there" says Morgan smiling

"she is, yeah, she's beautiful" Spencer says blushing

"why didn't you tell me?" Morgan asks

"it's just...I wanted to check this was real and not insignificant before saying anything"

"are you gonna ask her to be your girlfriend?" he smiles, he thinks Spence is such a girlfriend dude.

"I will...yeah, but I need to confirm she wants me to be her boyfriend first" he says

"I bet she'll say yes...so, date night huh?". Spence nods "what will your dessert be?" he asks laughing, Spence blushes but smiles and pushes him towards the elevator.

He waves goodbye to Morgan from outside the elevator and then comes back to you (as usual).

When he opens the door you're the first thing to his sight, taking out the groceries.

"so inflation is crazy?" you ask getting closer.

"yeah, and old ladies" he says pouting. "this was horrible, I never imagined Morgan would come to our house".

You smile at the sound of "our" house.

"let's start cooking for our super fun date night" you say and kiss him.

After Morgan leaves, you too start to cook. Tonight's menu is pasta! which you both love, now you're teaching him how to play with the seasonings and discover new flavors, you've made that since you got into Spencer's life, teach him how to experience, not only in cooking, in sports, your culture, places, and a lot of things Spencer always brought up when talking to the team unconsciously.

Now he's chopping garlic next to you, while you open the tomato bottle and pour it in the pot.

"you know? garlic is a great cleaner for the liver, in women it can help with vaginal infections, bloating from menstruation, it can even help the blood flow and It can help reduce bad cholesterol and triglycerides, and increase good cholesterol" he says while putting the garlic into the pot, you smile and kiss his cheek.

"good for me then, how about for you?"

"Garlic may help reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease, strengthen the immune system, as it contains antiviral, antibacterial and antioxidant properties, It can help fight skin infections, such as athlete's foot and ringworm, as well as intestinal infections" he says smiling at you.

"sounds good, we should eat lots of garlic then" you say and kiss his cheek. He smiles and blushes and starts to chop some carrots and meat. You open the cabinet and give him another board for the meat, then you open the drawer and give him another knife.

"different knives and boards baby" you say while taking the pasta from another cabinet.

"right" he says, not in a bad mood though, in a way that shows he understands and listens to you.

When the pasta finishes cooking you mix it with the sauce together, then you both set the table and he runs to the living room.

You take a peek but you aren't able to see anything besides the door, then he puts a red candle on the center of the table and lights it on, you smile and he smiles.

"how prepared" you say teasingly.

He smiles and kisses you, so sweet and comfortable, his lips are where yours should be stored always.

You have dinner discussing a book you read together and how pretty both of you look tonight.

"your friend Morgan's cool" you say.

"yeah, he's funny" he says. You wipe a stain of sauce from his lips and he smiles, almost spitting the pasta from his mouth as you laugh, then he laughs along.

"you make me nervous..." he mumbles looking down at his plate.

"why?" you ask giggling.

"you just do" he says smiling, he leans and kisses you.

After dinner comes dessert, which was shared ice cream while laying on the couch watching a movie, you interrogate him with questions like "what would you do if..., or what do you prefer?..." which makes him laugh but think.

That's your night, those are your nights, as usual, filled with love and laughs, while he strokes the skin he's able to reach. Once he told you he was a germophobe, now you can't believe it because how can Spence, the man that's all day with his hands on you, when you cook, when you get dressed, when you're brushing your teeth at the same time, when you're sleeping, even unconsciously, be a germophobe?.

Soft strokes on your bare leg, his index finger stroking your thighs, then your calves that he pulled on his thighs, then kisses, kisses on your legs which he says he loves so much. Suddenly he's above you, soft kisses from the ice cream and the warmness from his skin covered in a shirt.

You can hear the credits of the now finished movie, but that's not something that's gonna be the principal of your attention, you focus on his lips on yours, on your neck, then on the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin while unbuttoning your shirt to after feeling him kissing and licking your chest, you focus on thinking about how he's leaving marks on you that say "Spencer was here". Morgan was right, you were gonna be the dessert afterwards.

[bokutosbabe]

*Pokes my head in through your window*

Good morning, I'm here for the 'More Than A Married Couple, But Not Lovers' event. I'll like to request 🍑+🧁 with Yukimiya Kenyu.

well good morning ! ( afternoon as this is posted )

a yukimiya kenyu peach cupcake :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° home is wherever you are

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event :)

♡ content — yukimiya kenyu x gn! reader, gn! reader, childhood friends to lovers, their moms are also best friends, reader tries to deny their feelings for yukimiya

♡ synopsis — from the second you were born, your mother swore you were meant to marry her best friends son, yukimiya kenyu. maybe they'd accept just a fake marriage?

You and Yukimiya Kenyu had been attached at the hip for as long as you could remember.

Your mothers were best friends, bonded by years of shared secrets, inside jokes, and matching visions of the future. And somewhere along the way, that vision started to include you and Yukimiya—together.

“When they grow up, they’ll get married. Mark my words,” your mom would say with a wink.

Yukimiya’s mom always chimed in with a dreamy sigh, “They’re perfect for each other. Just look at them!”

You and Yukimiya? Perfect for each other? You’d laugh it off every time.

But no matter how much you tried to ignore their teasing, the words stuck.

The years passed, and the two of you became inseparable. From sharing homework to cheering him on at soccer matches, you were there for every high and low.

You knew everything about him—the way he hummed when he was deep in thought, how he needed his tea just right, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his dreams.

And he knew everything about you.

But no matter how close you were, there was always an unspoken rule between you: don’t cross the line.

When the marriage simulation program paired you together, you’d both burst out laughing.

“Of course it’s you,” Yukimiya said, shaking his head with a small smile.

“It’s like the universe is conspiring with our moms,” you joked, though your stomach flipped at the thought of living with him for weeks.

You didn’t expect much to change. After all, you’d been friends forever. This would be just like old times—right?

It wasn’t.

Living together was different.

For one, you started noticing things you hadn’t before. Like how he always smelled faintly of citrus, or how his hair looked when he stepped out of the shower, damp and a little messy.

And then there was the way he looked at you—so soft, so open, like you were the only person in the world who mattered.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. This was just Yuki. He was thoughtful, sweet—he’d always been like this.

But the more time you spent together, the harder it became to convince yourself that your feelings were strictly platonic.

It all came to a head one evening.

You were sitting on the couch, flipping through the program’s assignments, when he spoke up.

“Hey,” he said, his voice unusually tentative.

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about what our moms used to say? About us getting married?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Uh, sometimes. Why?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I used to think it was ridiculous, you know? Like, they were just joking around. But…”

You waited, holding your breath.

“But now I’m starting to wonder if maybe they weren’t entirely wrong.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Yuki,” you said softly, your chest tightening.

He looked at you, his expression both nervous and hopeful. “I know this is probably the worst time to say this, but I—” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I like you. More than just as a friend. I think I’ve liked you for a while now, but I didn’t want to mess things up between us.”

Your heart felt like it was about to burst. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he admitted. “But now… I can’t pretend anymore.”

You didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly his arms were around you, holding you close.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore either,” you whispered, burying your face in his chest.

The simulation ended a few days later, but your relationship didn’t.

For once, your moms were right.

And this time, you didn’t mind one bit.

i love yukimiya so much it's unhealthy

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[officeobject]

Wait I did NOT expect you to ACTUALLY reply ... anyways, I have a niche personality, so I'm probably the best person :) ... to write "okay" to and never reply to forever! I also don't know what you mean by publicly shamed, due to it being so specific, and I also have no concept of death nor suicide, for better or for worse, but like, I do know, that they're then friends by title, and not ACTUAL friends - and like, I can only offer generic advice or make my own plan, and what I would do, as someone who could never be in that same situation ever due to the alignment of my personality and the obscure irrelevance I often fall under when it's the bottom line for people, is to get more bitches. Actually, maybe I'd even get new bitch and make him fight the other ones and watch or something - like I once had a friend who said he'd fight some shithead from my life and like, yeah, that's platonically attractive wow, and like, yeah, if possible then hit-able - but I shouldn't encourage violence, which allegedly isn't the answer, and I do not condone violence, and like, you're probably a teenager, so like - well first of all, I don't expect you to take what I write too seriously - like I don't expect you to actually see me as a human being all of the time, but also, like, just do whatever the feck other teenagers do to be happy and survive or whatever - I don't know, if I think about it for too long, I will hate myself, and possibly get into my addiction - lots of things in my life are about me I guess, and if they aren't about me or what I like for TOO long - or if not enough attention, brain will get mad.

And like, I'll TELL YOU, that what I really wanna say is how sad that is and that help exists, and like, sure, I do mean that, but like, I can only not-personality myself into someone nice, or make it all about me and my rambles and crappy advice.

Like I do NOT get people who can just give advice, or say they're here for someone, and then this just IS, in their personality - like, I'M just with a concern for humanity and a fear of unintentionally killing someone, and THEY, are just here, FOLLOWING THEIR PERSONALITY, WHILE, being all smoothly nice, or awkwardly helpful?! Like I could NEVER!

So over all: I'm sorry to hear that, have you tried talking to someone about it?

[shiny-jr]

Please yap away about your new Empyrean series~! I’ve been watching a bunch of videos and reading about Genshin Impact so I can better understand the world and dynamics you’re planning to write about and absolutely fascinated with everything~

Is there a specific dorm you’re looking forward to writing about or possible side arcs/missions in between the MC meeting the different Archons like the events in Twisted Wonderland? Were some of the dorm leaders easier to place as the different Archons elements than others and if so who did you struggle with?

Oh god, where do I even start? How much is too much to say? I don't want to spoil whole parts. I haven't actually written anything for it, but I do certainly have ideas. Ideas that have been accumulating slowly but surely.

Uh, I think first thing's first, none of the TWST cast are going to be just human. How unfair would it be if, say, Riddle was an archon (god) and Ace was just human? Kinda unfair. Which is why all the characters are going to be something else. I'm still figuring some of this part out.

Keep in mind, my knowledge of Genshin Impact extends as far as Inazuma and no further. Anything I know beyond that was through tiktok, that is it. So I'll be taking heavy inspirations from the first three regions.

Pairing the element to a character wasn't too hard actually. So first I focused on the archons, and I looked at the dorm leaders and what they stand for and what type of magic they use.

We know Riddle uses a lot of fire magic based off his SSR Dorm Uniform card. Additionally, the color scheme just went well with his hair color and the roses and all. At first I thought it seemed uncanny, because how could a green region based off of Britain be symbolic of the pyro element? Well, then I considered that since it borders Savanaclaw, it could make sense.

For Leona, I took into account the volcanoes that act as a natural border between his land and Riddle's. Additionally, his unique magic made it a very easy choice. I mean, turning things to sand? Slapping Geo on it and calling it a day.

On Azul's, I was actually torn. I know it seems like an obvious choice of hydro, but listen, at first I actually considered giving Kalim hydro due to his own unique magic. Then I thought maybe Azul would get cryo, but in my mind, leaving the other elements to the remaining characters just didn't make much sense. So, ultimately, Azul won the hydro element.

Giving Kalim the dendro element just happened to coincidentally align with the Sumeru region's main element. I wanted to give Kalim the next best thing if he couldn't have hydro, which was dendro. As I see it as a very "good" element with positive qualities, which he deserves.

Vil was one of the others that gave me trouble when assigning him an element. For a very brief moment, I considered giving him dendro, but that just didn't fit the sort of aesthetic I had in mind for him. Then I remember what his home region is supposed to look like, if it's similar to Epel's, it's snowy, right? So cryo was the next best option. I think it actually fits him well, if I do say so myself.

Idia was the last character to give me trouble. For a while I really was not sure about giving him the anemo element, as he just seemed like the complete opposite of Venti and his ideals. However, the longer I thought about, the more I came to terms with it. Wind doesn't have to mean just freedom. Wind can be very terrifying too, like what we see in Stormterror's Lair which is the sort of aesthetic I imagined when I finally assigned him anemo.

I mean, duh, of course Malleus was getting electro. What else did you expect? I mean, there was a second where I considered giving electro to Idia, but then giving anemo to Malleus didn't sit right with me. Electro was ultimately the best choice for this archon. It's constantly used in the games around him, he has control over it, it just made sense to give him this element.

Any other characters that are not archons will have their elemental type be based off the region they're from. HINT HINT. For example, Riddle may be pyro as he is the archon, but at least one person in Heartslabyul will not have the pyro element.

[spahhzy]

Neo sat on the porch staring out into the valley in front of her eyes, from the trees to the large looming mountains out in the distance. It was all breathtaking, even for someone who had been in the city her whole life. Taking a sip of her drink, Neo continued to stare out into the world.

???: Neo?

Turning her head to the voice, Neo saw Jaune step out onto the porch, and take a seat onto the steps next to her.

Jaune: Supper is almost done, and mom insisted you be the one to make the first cut.

Neo nodded and returned her gaze out into the open, Jaune looked out as well.

Jaune: Nice, isn't it?

Neo just shook her hand, and Jaune chuckled.

Jaune: I get it, nothing quiet like living back in Vale.

Neo just shrugged her shoulders.

Jaune: You know this isn't the only house we got out here?

Neo tilts her head.

Jaune: Yeah, a few miles west is another nice little home that my great grandfather built. That one is a bit smaller than the big house here, but...i think once the world is saved and things get fixed... I'll maybe come here and make it home.

Neo nods her head before taking another sip of her drink.

Jaune: ...and I was hoping that maybe...if you don't have any other plans that uhm...

Neo eyes widened as she looked at Jaune, who was super red in the face.

Did he want her to...

A smile graced her face before putting a finger to her lips and tilting her head to the right , as if pretending to think about it.

Jaune: Oh, uh, you dont have to rush or anything... I'm not wanting to take away anything from you...it's just...oh stupid stupid-

Neo just gave him a loving smile, and put a finger to his lips.

Jaune: ...

Suddenly, a small box was present in Neo's hand.

Jaune: Uh...what's that?

Neo: I guess the proper term for this would be a juxtaposition.

Jaune carefully takes the small box from Neo.

Jaune: Juxta-wah?

As Neo just rolls her eyes.

Jaune slowly opens the box to see a small white ring.

Jaune: Wow...it looks...almost like an O-ring.

Neo smirks.

Neo: Halfway right... I didn't think you were a diamond and gold kind of girl.

Jaune just chuckles before he pulls the small white ring out of the box and stares at it like it was the most precious thing.

Jaune: I dont need presents Neo...just you.

Neo wanted to melt right their but held strong.

Neo: Well... that's what that means...

Neo looked around, wanting to make sure she signed the correct words.

Neo: It means that you have me....that I'm yours.

Jaune's eyes widened. Was she...?

Neo: It means...come live your life with me.

Jaune stared at Neo with wide eyes as he began to process everything.

She was!

Neo: The only thing i wish for you to do, though, is outlive me so I never have to live another day without you.

Jaune gave her a serious look this time before giving her a bright smile.

Jaune: I can try and do that.

Neo nods before taking one more sip of her drink as Jaune puts the white ring on his finger, enjoying how nice it felt.

Neo: Then it's settled... we're getting married.

.

.

.

Mama Arc: Oh my babbbby boy is finally getting marrieeeeeed!

Jaune: MOM!? HOW LONG WERE YOU THERE!?

Mama Arc: Oooooh, LONG ENOUGH! COME HERE SON AND YOU TOO DAUGHTER IN LAW!

With great strength, Mama Arc dragged both her son and future daughter in law in a bone crushing hug, much to Jaune's embarrassment but he looked at Neo and he remembered a time we're this kind of physical affection Nora used to gave her would always irrational her but now all he saw was a peaceful smile on her face.

Yeah, things would work out, they will save the world, and return here underneath the mountains and vast fields when the time is right.

[cpericardium]

This is the story of the time I interviewed at Ubisoft.

When I was a teenager, I became obsessed with the Bioshock series and got it into my head that I wanted to do game design for a living. I'd never seriously attempted it nor did I know exactly what it entailed, but how hard could it be? I gamed!! I had ideas!! I said this to my teacher during a what do you want to be when you grow up talk, and she said, "Oh! My sister works at Ubisoft Singapore. I'll get you an interview."

Emails were exchanged, and someone at the company arranged a "quick chat" with me a couple of weeks later. It was for a QA tester intern position, which I reasoned was sort of like game design. After all, in the Sims 3 it's one rung on the ladder to becoming a game developer. Also I didn't want to anger my teacher. She was quite volatile.

Round 1:

I'd never done a job interview before. I put on a nice blouse and pencil skirt and heels, nervously applied and reapplied makeup which I normally did not wear, and showed up at the office building an hour early. Then as I went up the elevator I realised they never said what room it was. I couldn't very well email to ask now. I'd look like an idiot!! Fuck!! So for an hour, I just skulked around outside various glass doors peering into offices hoping there would be some receptionist around to ask, but there was practically no one there. The email only said "let's have a quick chat at 2pm on x date".

I was about to slink home with my tail between my legs when the interviewer called at the scheduled time. It was a phone interview!!!!! He didn't say that!!!!! I found a dingy secluded stairwell. As if to taunt me, one of the first questions he asked was "have you ever been to the building?"

Me, through gritted teeth: yeah! actually I'm here right now, haha... to scope it out, you know... get a lay of the land..... it's really big... Lots of glass walls...

Him: oh that's nice.

I don't remember most of the questions, but I do know he asked me what my favourite games were. I said Undertale and Life is Strange (they had come out that year), but he'd never heard of them. Maybe I should've said Far Cry or something but what if he quizzed me on it?

Round 2:

I should not have made it to this round. I was coasting entirely on the goodwill of my teacher's sister, who was high up the chain. She interviewed me next. I think her only question was whether I would be okay working long gruelling hours with little support and no overtime.

Me, blissfully unaware of crunch culture being a massive human rights issue in the industry: bring it on!!

Her: what? 🤨

Then she ushered me into a room to take a pencil and paper test. While waiting earlier, I'd frantically googled and memorised a bunch of Ubisoft games, so I could answer the one asking me to list eight of them. I figured I could have gotten away with saying Assassin's Creed and adding a random number to the back though.

The biggest problem was on the other side of the paper: a diagram of a gaming controller asking me to label the buttons. Here's the thing. I'm a PC gamer. Always have been. At the time, my only experience with console gaming was playing Little Big Planet with my best friend when I was twelve, at her house. And I wasn't very good at it! I think I fundamentally lack the hand-eye coordination for console gaming, but that's just a guess because I can count on one hand the number of times I've ever used a controller. And I can count on one hand the number of controllers I have in that hand! It's zero! I knew the wiggly antennae were for movement and the buttons on the sides did esoteric things that people will yell at you to press during crucial moments, but that was it. I ended up labelling the buttons the shapes they were (circle button, triangle button, square button etc).

The interviewer came back into the room after about 15 minutes and said I now had an hour to play an unfinished level of Assassin's Creed, identify as many bugs as possible, and record them on a spreadsheet. And even though she set me up at a computer monitor, I still had to use a controller. Are you kidding me! This was the Victorian era Assassin's Creed. I had never played any AC games before, so I didn't know what were bugs and what were features. Was "can't jump" a bug? Was "invisible wall surrounding staircases"? What was the format and lingo you were supposed to use when recording bugs? I made no progress towards the quest at all (I did not understand it or who my character was), just wandered around and wrote down things I noticed and didn't like until time was up.

Anyway, that's the tale of how I didn't get a job I was woefully unprepared and underqualified for and in retrospect didn't want all that much. Maybe what I really wanted was to be... was Ayn Rand.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

I'll try to be nice and polite about it because I really think you are coming from a good place: but the thing is you are just wrong.

At least based on my perspective as part of the Latam, all the factors you mentioned were struggles for you and others from the US to learn foreing languages happened here. The difference is that the average brazilian with no classes till maybe high school, the idea learning english is hard and boring and no incitive whastover still needs to know english to get okay-ish jobs, to study in certain academic fields, even to just deal with rude turists in some places. English is more and more becaming a skill that is unacessible but we still HAVE to get.

And this is by design. Is a way to keep us in our place, if we don't understand your language the oportunities created by the US egemony are closed to us and that makes less likely for people from Latin America, specially poor and native people, to get even remotedly close to an even playing field.

The problem isn't simply that you guys don't know our languages is that not knowing our languages means nothing. Doors aren't closed to you the same way they are to us. In that way the biggest problem is that we are forced to know yours.

In Brazil in theory we learn english starting at middle school. When I went to school it was starting when we were eleven. If you ever went to an english class in most public schools or even rural private schools you know that's not really how it works. We spend ten years on the "to be" verb. English was the grade people did because it was easy since we didn't actually had to do shit. The very marjority of people I know don't know english and all the ones I know that do did not learn it from school. But all of them feel like they have to.

In a more personal level I love english, I always loved languages and I would have loved to have learned english at school for fun.

But I learned english because my parents begged from relatives and took extra hours at work to give me some classes and the classes didn't even work as much as I noticed how hard it was for them and had to find ways to make it work for me. And my parents did all that because my cousin failed a bunch of job interviews for not knowing english. They did that because according to them "knowing english was becaming less a skill that helped someone in getting a great job and more a skill you needed to have to get most jobs." Neither of my parents speak english. But they did their best so me and my brother could (mostly via making me teach my brother cause they couldn't pay lessons for the both of us).

I had none of that to help me learn spanish nor italian nor any language I would love to learn for fun if I had the time.

I didn't learn english because it was fun. My brother hates languages. He still learned english after painfull horrible lessons that made me give up on my dreams of ever being a teacher.

The problems are way deeper than your shitty educacional system and it angers people like us because we had all the same problems and were forced to learn your language anyway only to see someone go "well we never had the chance" when neither did we. And I understand that not being incentivized to learn sucks, we didn't either, but the problem is way deeper. They don't want us to learn your language. They want us to have to but fail so that can be used as a justification to deny us oportunities. Is why imigrant characthers with broken english are still a joke on your media.

And this is what this post and this conversation is about. Not knowing other languages might be a result of bad education, might even be by design. But not HAVING to DESPITE the lack of everything is a privilege. And this is the point.

I rarely bring this up because it feels like fairly silly and low-stakes compared to all the other effects of american imperialism, but one of the funniest things when Americans deny that living in the imperial core and the center of global cultural hegemony confers them any sort of privilege over people from the imperial periphery is that like. In order for this conversation where you tell me you have no privilege over me to even be able to take place one of us had to learn the other's language, and it wasn't you.

I think the fact that by default the onus of learning the other's language to enable communication is always put on the other side is a pretty significant privilege on the cultural front.

[tickly-trashcan]

Hear Me Out Cake Event!!

This is the wildest idea for an event I've had but... HEAR ME OUT!!!

In this event, we'll be putting our own tickly twist on the hear me out cake trend!! For our hear me out cake, we'll put the characters we'd like to see get tickled on the cake!! >:) I'll explain more below the cut, but I'd also like to extend an invitation for other creators to jump on this event if they'd like!! :D The event will be starting next week on January 12, so keep an eye out for that!

Here's a quick summary of the event, but I will also explain more hehehe~ There are three stages to this event! The first stage is the Hear Me Out!! stage, where you'll pick out a character you'd like to put onto the cake! The second stage is where all of the characters on the cake are announced, which I'm calling the Big Slice or Little Slice stage! The final stage is called Serving the Cake, and it is where the cake is sliced and all the characters on the cake are given a slice of cake (in the form of tickles! >:D)

Hear Me Out!! Stage:

The first stage of the event! This will run from Jan. 12 through Jan. 18 and will be everyone's opportunity to submit a character for the cake! To submit a character, just send me an ask with the character you'd like to submit for the cake! Please specify the fandom as well :) If you'd like to go above and beyond, then feel free to explain why you want to put this character on the cake!! I'll be posting the asks as they come in before posting the final list of characters, so this is where we can all get silly and talk about the characters we love!

One note for this event: I'm really hoping the community gets together for this event, so if there's a character from a fandom that's not on my personal fandom list, still send them in!! I'll be writing for characters that I know about, but if there's a character that you love, you should send them in! If I don't know them, maybe someone else will end up picking them!

Big Slice or Little Slice Stage:

The second stage of the event! This stage will start on Jan. 20 when the full list of characters is posted! During this stage, any creator can pick out however many characters they'd like to write for and start creating whatever they'd like for them!! Art, fics, whatever you'd like to make! There's no limit on who you can write for or draw in this event but also don't feel pressure to create something for every character on the list!

Another note: The dates after the Hear Me Out!! stage are all pretty iffy just so y'all know! Ideally I'll have the list up on Jan. 20 but it could be later, and also the time frame for the Slicing the Cake stage is super flexible for creators! Don't feel pressure to stick within that time (I will for sure be posting outside of the time given haha)

Serving the Cake Stage:

The final (and most fun!) stage of the event! This stage will start on Feb. 3, two weeks after the full list of characters is shared! This is when anyone can start posting their slices of character cake onto Tumblr to share! You are also more than welcome to post before this time, it's just a rough time frame hehe~ If you're participating in this event, please use the tag #cakes and tickles so that everyone can follow along with the event! It's a terrible tag but it'll work haha! There's no technical time limit on the event, but I was thinking the posting period could be from Feb. 3 through Mar. 3 just for a fun little "month" of cake! But like I said before there is absolutely no pressure to do it within that time frame, just make sure to have fun if you decide to participate!! I'll try and reblog as many tickly creations as I can, so make sure to use the tag above hehehe :D

And that's pretty much it!! This is a crazy event and I'm really hoping that other people participate (if not that is all good there is NO pressure I just thought this would be a fun little community thing haha)! I'm looking forward to the best hear me out cake EVER!!!

If you have any questions about this event prior to it beginning, please don't hesitate to send me a message or an ask! I think I explained everything but there could easily be something that I missed! Thank you guys and look forward to this! :D