#no I didn’t get the character ‘wrong’… I just wrote them in the way I wanted oh my god

[reliablejoukido]

Someone just gave me a shit sandwich comment on a fic and it’s like… don’t do this. Don’t do this to me and don’t do it to other people.

[solxamber]

Hello, I love your writing! The isekai fics are so fun, Vil's was my favorite! Can I request the twst boys (+ staff if you have inspiration for it) comforting a reader who just breaks down in tears after the seventh overblot is resolved because they haven't had much support and time to process being in a new world away from everything they've ever known, were basically told to play therapist by Crowley, and have had their life and their friends lives at risk. Lots of angst but mostly comfort in the end! Thank you if you write this!

7th Overblot Aftermath

Characters: All NRC + Staff

hi! and thank you so much 🫶 vil was the first one I wrote I'm glad you liked it. I love this request and I hope you like it <3

The aftermath of Malleus’s overblot felt surreal. The sky had cleared, but the air was still heavy with the weight of what had just happened. It was over. Finally over. You had seen seven overblots now, each one pushing you and your friends to the edge, forcing you to confront darkness that shouldn’t have existed in people you had come to care for.

But this one had felt different. Maybe it was because of the sheer power Malleus wielded, or maybe it was because of how fragile the world around you had seemed as you fought to bring him back. You had nearly lost him—nearly lost everyone. And you were so, so tired.

Your knees gave out, hitting the ground with a soft thud. You stared at the grass beneath you, eyes blurring with unshed tears. Everyone was celebrating the victory, but all you could think about was the sheer exhaustion gnawing at your bones, the burden of playing mediator, therapist, and survivor all at once. You hadn’t signed up for this. You had been thrown into this world without warning, away from everything you had ever known, and you hadn’t had a moment to breathe since.

“I’m so tired…” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

And then it all came crashing down. The walls you had so carefully built around yourself crumbled, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Quiet at first, but then the sobs came harder, your shoulders shaking as you finally let yourself break.

You barely registered footsteps approaching until a pair of hands rested gently on your shoulders.

Ace Trappola

"Hey, hey," Ace’s voice broke the silence, softer than you’d ever heard it before. “What’s wrong? You’re... crying.”

You hiccuped, trying to suppress the sobs that wouldn’t stop coming. Ace was never one for emotional moments—at least, not the serious kind. He usually joked his way out of anything too heavy, but right now, he seemed out of his depth.

“C’mon, don’t cry,” he mumbled, his voice awkward but concerned. “We’ve been through worse, right? I mean, we beat Malleus of all people. If we can get through that, we can get through anything.”

He crouched beside you, his hand patting your shoulder in an attempt to be comforting, though he was clearly fumbling. “Just… talk to us, okay? We’re here. You don’t have to keep everything inside.”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice, but the tears kept coming. Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure of what else to say, but he stayed close, his presence enough to remind you that you weren’t alone.

Deuce Spade

Deuce knelt down beside you, his expression full of concern. His hand hovered over your back, unsure whether to touch you, as if he was afraid of making things worse. He eventually settled on patting your back gently, his voice unsteady but earnest.

“It’s okay,” Deuce whispered, his usual tough demeanor nowhere to be found. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re all here for you. I—I didn’t realize how much you’ve been going through.”

His face was a mix of worry and guilt, as if he felt bad for not noticing sooner. “You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore. You’ve been looking out for us this whole time, and I… I didn’t see how much that’s been hurting you.”

You couldn’t respond, your throat tight with emotion. Deuce, seeing your tears still falling, gently shifted closer, offering the only comfort he knew how: his presence. “We’re friends, right? And friends help each other. So… let us help you, okay?”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle appeared beside you, his normally rigid posture softer now. He knelt down, placing a hand on your arm, his touch surprisingly tentative. He looked at you for a moment, eyes filled with unspoken regret before he spoke.

“I should have seen how much you’ve been carrying,” Riddle began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You’ve been through so much—more than any of us realized. I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

His words were measured, careful, as if he was trying not to overwhelm you. “I’ve been so focused on maintaining order, on fixing things after my own mistakes, that I failed to recognize how much weight you’ve been holding on your own.”

He sighed softly, guilt clear in his voice. “You’ve been our support through everything, but you’ve had no one to lean on yourself. That’s not fair to you, and it’s not something you should have had to do alone.”

Riddle stayed close, his hand still resting on your arm, offering comfort in the only way he knew how—through quiet sincerity.

Trey Clover

Trey crouched down beside you, his presence calm and steady, like always. He didn’t say anything at first, just rested a hand gently on your shoulder, waiting for your sobs to slow. He wasn’t one for grand gestures or overly emotional words, but he didn’t need them. His quiet support spoke volumes.

“You’ve been doing a lot for everyone,” Trey said softly, his voice low and warm. “More than anyone should have to. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.”

He offered you a tissue, waiting patiently as you wiped your face, though the tears kept coming. Trey’s hand stayed on your shoulder, a grounding weight.

“You don’t have to keep everything bottled up,” he continued, his tone gentle. “We’re all in this together, you know? If you need a break, if you need someone to listen… we’re here. I’m here.”

There was no judgment in his voice, no impatience, just the quiet assurance that he’d be there for you whenever you needed.

Cater Diamond

Cater slid down beside you, his usual carefree smile nowhere in sight. Instead, his eyes were soft with concern as he pulled out a tissue and handed it to you.

“Y’know, it’s okay to break down sometimes,” Cater said quietly, watching as you wiped your face. His voice was unusually subdued, and for once, there was no joking, no lightheartedness to deflect from the situation.

“We’ve all been through a lot,” he continued, “but I think you’ve been carrying more than the rest of us. Crowley’s been dumping all this stuff on you, expecting you to handle everything, but you shouldn’t have to. Not alone.”

Cater leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve been the glue holding us together. But who’s been holding you together, huh?”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to answer, but the tears just kept coming. Cater didn’t push. He just sat beside you, his presence steady, offering you the space to cry without judgment.

“It’s okay to let it out,” he said, his voice soft. “We’ve got you now.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona crouched down next to you, his green eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of your trembling form. He let out an exasperated sigh, as if annoyed by the situation—not by you, but by everything you’d been forced to endure.

“Ugh, this is exactly why I hate people like Crowley,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Always dumping stuff on others and never dealin’ with the mess themselves.”

He placed a heavy, warm hand on your back, his grip firm but comforting. “Listen, you ain’t weak for feelin’ like this. You’ve done more than enough, and I don’t blame you for breakin’ down. Hell, anyone else would’ve lost it way before you did.”

Leona’s tone softened slightly, his voice low and steady. “You’re tougher than most of the idiots I know. So, stop thinkin’ you gotta do everything yourself. Just rest already.” He grumbled something under his breath about humans overworking themselves, but stayed close by, a quiet, protective presence.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie hunkered down next to you, his usual cheeky grin replaced by something much softer. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head lightly. “Sheesh, you really let all that pile up on ya, huh?”

He gave you a light nudge with his elbow, playful but careful. “Look, you don’t gotta carry everything by yourself, ya know? I get it—you’re tough. But even tough people gotta take a break now and then, yeah?”

Ruggie’s eyes gleamed with empathy, his voice taking on a gentle, comforting tone you didn’t hear often from him. “Life’s been a little unfair to ya, huh? I mean, Crowley dumpin’ all that responsibility on you… it’s not right. But you’re here, and you’re still standin’, even after all that.”

He flashed you a small, reassuring smile. “But you don’t gotta stand alone. You’ve got us now. Lemme know if you need a break—I’ll hustle for the both of us.” Ruggie winked, his familiar mischievousness flickering back into his expression, but the concern in his eyes remained genuine.

Jack Howl

Jack’s ears twitched as he knelt down beside you, his tail swaying slowly with a sense of unease. He wasn’t great with words, but the sight of you breaking down hit him harder than he expected. “Hey,” he began softly, his voice gruff but sincere. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

His hand hovered awkwardly for a second before settling firmly on your shoulder. Jack wasn’t sure how to help, but he wanted to—more than anything. “I know you’ve been strong… probably stronger than anyone should have to be. But it’s okay to let it out.”

He shifted slightly, trying to find the right words. “I… I know how it feels to be away from everything familiar. To feel like you don’t have anyone to lean on. But that’s not true. You’ve got me. You’ve got all of us.”

His grip on your shoulder tightened briefly, like he was silently reassuring you of his support. “You don’t have to face all of this alone. We’re here for you. And I’m not gonna let anything happen to you—or anyone else.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul approached you cautiously, his usual calm and collected demeanor faltering as he saw you crumbling under the weight of everything. His steps were slow, calculated, but there was an unusual tightness in his chest. He knelt down beside you, his expression torn between concern and his usual polished facade.

“You’ve… been carrying quite the burden, haven’t you?” he asked softly, though there was a certain edge to his voice, almost as if he was angry—at the world, at Crowley, at everything that had led to this moment.

His hand hovered over your shoulder for a moment before he rested it gently, almost hesitantly. “I won’t lie to you,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always admired how capable you are. But no one should be expected to handle what you have. Crowley’s negligence… it’s unacceptable.”

Azul glanced away briefly, his sharp gaze softening. “But you’re not alone anymore. You have us. You have me. And I promise, I won’t let anyone take advantage of you again—not without consequence.”

There was a sincerity in his words that Azul rarely revealed, a vulnerability hidden beneath his usual polished exterior. “You don’t have to keep being strong on your own. Allow yourself to lean on someone else for once.”

Jade Leech

Jade knelt gracefully beside you, his usual serene smile gone, replaced with a look of quiet concern. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was gauging how best to approach the situation. “My, you’ve been holding this all in for quite some time, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice as smooth as ever, but with an underlying warmth that was rare for him.

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his fingers light but reassuring. “You’ve done more than anyone could ask of you. It’s no surprise that you feel overwhelmed.”

Jade’s gaze flickered over your trembling form, his mismatched eyes studying you carefully. “It’s a great deal of responsibility to bear, especially in a world so far from your own. But… you’re not alone.”

There was a softness in his tone that you didn’t expect, his usual composed demeanor shifting. “You’ve been strong for everyone else. Now, allow yourself to rest. Let us take care of things for a while. You’ve certainly earned it.”

He smiled gently, his hand still resting on your shoulder, steady and reliable. “And do not worry. Should anyone try to take advantage of your kindness again, they will have me to deal with.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd approached you in his typical loose, carefree stride, but when he saw the state you were in, his usual playful grin vanished. His steps quickened, and before you knew it, he was crouched down right in front of you, his mismatched eyes widening in genuine concern. “Whoa, hey, hey! What’s this?” he asked, tilting his head as he examined your tear-streaked face.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug—so sudden and fierce that it left you breathless for a second. “You can’t cry like this, Shrimpy. It doesn’t suit you,” he said, his voice unusually soft, though still carrying that familiar teasing edge.

Floyd squeezed you tighter, his long arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. “If things are bad, you should’ve just told me. I’d go squeeze the life outta Crowley for you—he deserves it.” He chuckled, but his grip didn’t loosen, like he was afraid you might fall apart if he let go.

He leaned back slightly, still holding you close. “You don’t gotta be strong all the time, you know? You’re my friend, and I don’t let my friends break down alone. So, whenever you feel like this, just come find me. I’ll squeeze the sadness right outta ya.” His words, though playful, carried a weight of sincerity that made your heart ache a little less.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil stood before you, his expression unreadable, though his eyes held a rare softness. “You’ve let yourself reach this point of exhaustion,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly. “It’s not your fault, but you shouldn’t have been forced to carry this burden alone.”

He knelt beside you, his touch gentle but firm as he took your hand. “You’ve been strong for so long, but even the strongest need time to recuperate. Don’t mistake vulnerability for weakness. It takes great strength to admit you need help.”

Vil brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “You’ve given so much of yourself, but now, it’s time to prioritize your own well-being. I won’t let you neglect yourself any longer. Remember, even a diamond can crack if too much pressure is applied.”

Rook Hunt

Rook’s eyes sparkled with emotion as he knelt gracefully beside you, his usual exuberance tempered by an uncharacteristic stillness. “Ah, mon ami, you have been carrying such a heavy heart all this time,” he whispered, his voice a melodic lilt.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch light, almost reverent. “To be in a world so foreign, surrounded by danger, yet still you’ve stood tall… such beauty in your strength. But even the most resilient soul must rest.”

Rook smiled warmly, leaning closer as if to share a secret. “Let us lift this burden from your shoulders, together. You are not alone. I, too, am by your side, always watching, always ready to catch you should you stumble.”

Epel Felmier

Epel crouched down next to you, his face tight with concern. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, not used to comforting others but determined nonetheless. “You shouldn’t have had to go through all this,” he muttered, his country drawl creeping into his voice. “Crowley’s a real piece of work, throwin’ all that on ya.”

He reached out, offering a hand in his own shy way. “You’ve been tougher than most, and I admire that. But that don’t mean you gotta keep it all bottled up. It’s okay to feel this way. We’re all here for ya, and I’m not lettin’ anyone mess with you anymore.”

Epel’s expression softened, his voice gentler now. “You’ve got us, so don’t think you’re alone in this. We’ll face it all together.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim immediately rushed to your side, concern written all over his face. “Oh no! You’ve been carrying all this by yourself? Why didn’t you tell me?” he exclaimed, kneeling down and grabbing your hands with both of his, his usual exuberance tempered by a rare sincerity.

He gave you a bright, reassuring smile. “You’ve been so strong for everyone else, but it’s okay to take a break. You don’t have to do everything alone—you’ve got us! And I promise, from now on, we’re all going to make sure you’re okay too.”

Kalim’s warm eyes sparkled with optimism. “Let’s go celebrate once you feel better! Something fun and happy—just to take your mind off everything. I’ll plan the best party ever, and you can just relax, okay?”

Jamil Viper

Jamil crouched down beside you, his dark eyes watching you carefully, as if assessing your every emotion. He sighed softly, his voice low and calm. “You’ve been under more pressure than anyone should have to deal with, and none of it was your fault.”

He rested a hand on your shoulder, his touch firm and grounding. “You shouldn’t have had to bear all this alone, but you don’t have to anymore. I understand what it’s like to carry more than you should.”

Jamil’s eyes softened, though his expression remained calm and composed. “From now on, you can rely on us. I won’t let things spiral out of control again, and I won’t let Crowley push you to your limits anymore. You deserve to take a step back and breathe.”

Idia Shroud

Idia stood awkwardly at a distance at first, his usual nervous fidgeting even more pronounced as he saw you breaking down. He hesitated before kneeling beside you, keeping his hands to himself. “I, uh… I get it,” he muttered, voice quieter than usual. “Feeling like the world’s too much to handle? Yeah, I’ve been there.”

He shifted uncomfortably but spoke with genuine understanding. “You’ve been through way more than anyone should. And, uh, it’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to act like everything’s fine all the time.”

Idia’s blue flames flickered a bit brighter as he added, “If you need to… y’know, not deal with everything, I’ve got games and stuff to help you chill out. No judgment. Just… take it easy, okay?”

Ortho Shroud

Ortho hovered closer, his usual upbeat tone shifting to something far more gentle. “You’ve done so much, and I know it’s been really hard on you,” he said softly, his mechanical voice somehow conveying warmth.

He floated down beside you, his small hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “But you’re not alone anymore! You’ve got big brother and me, and we’ll help you through everything. You don’t have to carry all this by yourself.”

Ortho gave you a bright smile, his eyes glowing softly. “Let me help you feel better! We can work together, and you can lean on us whenever you need to.”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus approached you slowly, his imposing presence softened by the genuine concern in his eyes. He knelt gracefully beside you, his voice low and soothing. “You have been through much, more than anyone should bear. It is no wonder you feel as though the weight is too much.”

He extended a hand, his fingers brushing gently against your arm. “You are not alone in this world. I understand what it is to feel isolated, but you have friends, and you have me.”

Malleus’s gaze softened further, his voice almost a whisper. “I am here for you, as are the others. Rest now, and let us share in your burden. No harm shall come to you as long as I stand by your side.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia floated down beside you with a lightness that contrasted the gravity of the situation. His usual playful demeanor faded, replaced by quiet empathy. “Ah, little one,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with affection. “You’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

He rested a hand gently on your head, giving it a comforting pat. “You’ve done well, more than anyone could have asked of you. But now, it’s time to let go of some of that burden. There’s no shame in needing help.”

Lilia smiled gently, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “You’re not alone, not anymore. We’ll protect you. You can lean on us when you need to.”

Silver

Silver knelt beside you, his calm eyes filled with quiet understanding. “You’ve been strong for a long time,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing. “But you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his touch steady and grounding. “It’s okay to let yourself feel overwhelmed. It doesn’t mean you’re weak—it means you’ve been through too much.”

Silver’s eyes softened as he spoke. “You have friends here, people who care about you. You can rely on us. I’ll be here, watching over you, so you can rest.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek approached you with his usual fervor but hesitated when he saw your tears. His sharp voice softened, though it still carried his typical intensity. “Human! You have been through much, but you must remember—you are not alone in this!”

He stood tall beside you, his green eyes blazing with determination. “You have shown strength, but it is not weak to ask for help! Lord Malleus would never allow you to suffer alone, and neither will I!”

Sebek crossed his arms, standing like a guardian at your side. “You are under the protection of Lord Malleus, and by extension, my protection! No harm will come to you now.”

Crowley

Crowley fluttered over, his usual flamboyant demeanor subdued as he saw your distress. “Ah, my dear prefect,” he began, wringing his hands nervously. “It seems that perhaps I’ve… placed more on your shoulders than I should have.”

He knelt beside you, his expression uncharacteristically somber. “You’ve done so much for this school, more than anyone could have asked of you. And for that, I owe you a great debt.”

Crowley’s voice softened, uncharacteristically sincere. “But now, it’s time for me to take some responsibility. You’ve more than earned your rest. From now on, I’ll make sure you have the support you need.”

Divus Crewel

Crewel knelt beside you, his sharp eyes softened with concern. “You’ve been through hell, pup,” he said, his voice low but firm. “And it’s no surprise that you’re feeling the strain.”

He reached out and adjusted your collar with practiced precision, as if he could fix your emotional state as easily as he could fix your appearance. “You’ve shown remarkable strength, but even the strongest need a break."

Crewel’s voice took on a more gentle tone as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not expected to bear the weight of the world on your own, pup. You’ve more than proven yourself, but now it’s time for you to let others shoulder some of that burden. I won’t allow anyone to exploit your loyalty or determination again.”

He straightened up, his steely demeanor still present but tempered with warmth. “You’ve got me in your corner now. If anyone dares push you to the brink again, they’ll have to deal with me. Understood?”

Mozus Trein

Trein approached slowly, his usual stern expression softened with concern as he adjusted his glasses. “You’ve been under undue stress, haven’t you?” he observed in his deep, calming voice. “No one should be forced to handle such pressure alone.”

He knelt beside you, his demeanor fatherly as he rested a hand on your arm. “This world has not been kind to you, I see that now. But you’ve handled it all with remarkable resilience. However, even the strongest minds and hearts need time to recover.”

Trein sighed deeply, his tone softening further. “I will ensure that you are given that time, without further demands placed on you. You’ve done more than enough.”

Ashton Vargas

Vargas came over with his usual boisterous energy, but seeing you in distress made him pause. His expression softened, and he knelt down beside you. “Hey, hey! What’s all this about, huh?” he said, his voice a bit gentler than usual. “You’ve been holding up the team for too long, I see. That’s a heavy weight, and it’s no wonder you’re feeling tired.”

He placed a strong, reassuring hand on your back. “You’re tougher than you think, but even the toughest need a break sometimes. You’ve done amazing—really! But now, it’s time to rest up and let others carry the load for a bit.”

Vargas smiled warmly, his usual energy tempered with sincerity. “You’ve earned it, champ. We’re not leaving you behind. We’ll get through this together.”

Sam

Sam quietly appeared beside you, his usual playful smile replaced by something softer, more caring. “Well now, looks like you’ve been carryin’ quite the burden, huh?” he said in his deep, smooth voice.

He crouched down next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder with a firm but gentle grip. “You’ve been strong for everyone else, but you can let that go for a bit. No shame in feelin’ overwhelmed.”

Sam’s eyes twinkled kindly, and he gave you a warm smile. “Remember, you’ve got friends, and we’re all here for you. Anytime you need a little pick-me-up, you know where to find me. No more carryin’ this all by yourself, alright?”

Grim

Grim strutted over, his ears twitching as he noticed the tears on your face. “Oi, what’s this?” he huffed, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly concerned. “You’re not supposed to be cryin’. You’re supposed to be tough, like me!”

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to handle the situation, before awkwardly patting your arm with his paw. “Uh... stop bein’ all sad, okay? You’ve been through a lot, but you’re still here, right? And that’s ‘cause you’ve got me, the Great Grim! I mean, you’re my henchhuman, so obviously you’re tough enough to handle anything!”

He puffed out his chest, trying to inject some of his usual bravado into the situation. “I’ll take care of things next time! No need to worry. Just... stop cryin’, alright? It’s weird. I’m supposed to be the one gettin’ pampered, not the other way around!”

Despite his tough words, Grim stayed by your side, his tail flicking nervously. “But, y’know, I guess... if you need to cry, that’s fine too. Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Masterlist

[writella]

Reckless Romantics

Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.

Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread— will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).

A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.

— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡

Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.

My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.

So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?

As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.

From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.

This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.

Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.

“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”

“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.

“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”

“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.

“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”

“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.

“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”

And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.

You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.

Except for now.

“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”

“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”

Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.

“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”

Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”

Oh—

That makes car goes quiet.

You know you made a mistake.

You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.

Right?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.

Right?

Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.

“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.

“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”

“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”

“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

But after that day, it was all you could think about.

The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.

These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.

Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.

Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.

Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.

And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.

You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—

“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.

“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.

“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.

“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.

“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.

“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.

“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”

He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”

“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”

“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”

You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”

Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.

Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.

“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.

“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”

He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.

He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”

He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”

The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”

You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.

“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”

Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.

“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”

You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.

“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”

Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”

“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”

A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.

“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”

“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”

“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:

“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”

“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.

He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”

Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”

This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”

Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.

Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.

Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.

“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.

A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.

“Can I… try it again?”

Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”

You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.

Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”

You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.

“You want to try this time?”

“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”

So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.

You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.

Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”

Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.

He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.

“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.

Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.

This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”

“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.

Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”

You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”

God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.

Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”

A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.

“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”

“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”

Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.

As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.

“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”

You nod quickly, “May I?”

As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.

“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”

He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”

So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”

The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.

You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”

Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.

You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.

“Did I, make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing.

“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.

Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.

“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”

“A good interesting I hope.”

“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.

“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”

You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”

He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.

When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.

Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”

You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”

Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”

Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.

Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.

Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.

He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”

Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.

He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”

“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”

“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”

Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.

But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.

“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”

He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”

Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.

Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.

That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”

“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”

Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.

Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.

He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”

You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”

He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.

“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.

“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.

When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.

As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.

Call when you’re done, it reads.

“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?

He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”

Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:

“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”

She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.

Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.

Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.

[ms-fade]

College!Class-1a! X Fem!Reader 18+Drabble

This is really starting out as imagination for being shared by the characters, then I thought of this. So in this the class has eyes on you and can’t help it but always wanted you. Then one day your professor takes it a step further. This is yanderish.

Class 1A: Izuku midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Ejiro Kirishima, Katsuki Bakugou, Ochaco Uraraka, Mina Ashido, Shōta Aizawa, Hanta Sero, Denki Kaminari, Tenya Iida, Fumikage Tokoyami, Momo Yaoyorozu, Kyouka Jirou

Warning: Sex watching, teasing, degrading, yandere content, masterbating, touching oneself to someone else, slight circle jerk?, professor x student, being used, authority play, hair pulling.

This is content that isn’t light of heart, filthy shit. So, dead dove do not eat. All characters are of age and consenting.

It was just another day in class, your classmates would drift their eyes to you occasionally to stare lovingly then turn away. You looked so cute today, like you did everyday, they always appreciated how beautiful you looked for them. Each time you’d look down or wrote in your notebook, Aizawa was staring at you. His eyes however didn’t look at your face but below the open deck to between your legs. That showed your pretty pussy all to him.

He could barely focus on his lesson with the picture of you in his mind, so he’d trip in his words and forget about what he was saying. This was new for him because he was always calm and steady, bored even. So the whole class took noticed his actions.

It wasn’t until he stopped fully while looking at you and the whole class followed his gaze in confusion. You didn’t even notice because you were taking notes and blocked him out until you got passed a point. “Y/n.” He sounded annoyed. Looking up to meet his glaring gaze you stare wide eyed at being in trouble.

“Yes sir.” He leaned on his desk and pointed in front where you would stand in front of the whole class. You gulped, “Stand up and go to the front of the class.” You flushed embarrassment at all the attention but followed his instructions to not get in anymore trouble. They all kept their eyes on your shy figure standing before them all in your school uniform. Aizawa made his way around and stood by you while putting a hand on his chin, inspecting you.

Turning his attention to the class, “Can anyone tell me what’s wrong with Miss L/n’s outfit?” You stared panic. All eyes looked at you from head to toe at the same outfit you wear every day, and they noticed everything you did. So the class stayed silent. Aizawa sighed and clicked his tongue.

“Surprising, you guys watched her like little bitches in heat.” He said amused with a eye roll, his demeanor changing quickly. The group looked at each other taken aback. Oh, you remembered clearly what you had done today. “I’m sorry-” his hand covered your mouth quickly and pushes you against the desk, the others getting defensive.

“Clearly your peer forgot the dress code,” you squealed when his other hand tugged at your skirt and lifted it. You struggled against him and tightened your legs together with tears picking up in your eyes. It was embarrassing…But also gave you a thrill.

“No panties under her skirt, she didn’t even close her legs.” You huffed as they all looked down at your cunt. Each of them turned red and moaned at the sight, the girls getting wet and the boys pants getting tight. “Shy? Awe, that’s pathetic.” He pushed you back and you were forced to take a seat in his desk.

“Show them, you know you want to be a good little slut.” You looked up at him with puppy eyes while he just smirked devilishly. But the problem to fighting back was simple. You didn’t want to. You spent nights imagining being fucked by your dorm mates, all of them you thought about along with your professor. So you nodded and slowly opened your legs for them to see each detail, your holes and clit. 

Now your eyes cried while your sweet moans poured out, the wet sounds of your pussy while his fingers thrust into you. Hands gripping the desk for support at how good the pleasure felt, your stomach twisting and turning. You couldn’t focused on your classmates to long while they all touched them to you.

The girls parted their legs while rubbing their clits and you could hear them too. Ochako and Mina fingered themself to match what you felt so they could feel one with you. The boys were surprisingly louder then the girl while stroking their cocks. Bakugo was more growling while fucking his hand as fast as he could go, Kirishima was soft and slow along with sero. Deku and denki were the loudest in the room, who got yelled at because they couldn’t hear you. But the other boys and girls kept quiet while touching themselves, afraid to make a sound.

Aizawa was painfully hard and made you rub him threw his pants for some relief, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The way you cried, moaned just by him fingering you. It was intoxicating. “Cum- Oh fuck, going to cum.” You announced with your eyes rolling back.

“Dumb girl, think that’s what you get?” You cried out when he pulled out of you quick and left you empty. “All of you stop or I’ll fail you.” They all stopped and panted, caught in a haze of the high. “At least you all listen to me now, now pull up your pants and shit.” Groaning they all listened, the reality sinking in on them. You wiggled to get off the desk but he stopped you.

“Shoto, Ochako are the only ones who get to finish.” The two looked up and the rest looked at them. “Y/n here will finish you off,” your hair was gripped and pulled you off the desk. He forced you down onto your knees, “Well?” The two thought for a second but stood up to walk over to you, standing above you.

“All of you get to watch, be thankful.” He left you and walked to his chair and leaned back. So, you licked her pussy and gave him a hand job until they both came. Todoroki’s cum splatter on your face as you cleaned her pussy up, you got breathless fast. The end of class was awkward and silent, no one knew what to do or say. So you all just left.

But it was only a matter of time before you got home and the class was waiting for you to get their turn. Willing to do anything to get you.

[somewhereincairparavel]

Alright. I came across someone saying that Rick "put Jason in a pedestal" and "overhyped" him by emphasizing how good looking he is and that Jason shouldn't have been so attractive looking. (Tbf tho that person made it sound like they seemed more mad bc their least favourite character was considered good looking lol) but I'll yap about the significance here anyways. Beware of a very long yapping session below.

I do understand their frustration though, because jason getting told that he looks good all the time makes it seem very shallow and unfair to the others.

And let me tell you, Jason is SUPPOSED to be gorgeous looking in everyone's eyes. He is supposed to be conventionally handsome, Rick didn't intend for his looks to be "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder " or something like Percy's (like how Piper didn't find him as impressive) Percy's is supposed to be more authentic. Percy's character isnt centred in people idolizing him, everyone can acknowledge that he's handsome looking, but it isn't in a "perfect" type of way, he's a carefree spirit and that reflects on his looks. While Jason is hardwired as this ethereal looking hero in people's eyes that not even ONE can deny that he looks good, bc ppl in Rome had set him as the "standard". Jason said this before in the lost hero, that him being a son of Jupiter, makes him feel like the support he gets is only because his dad is a very regal and intimidating figure.

That's kind of the whole point, he's supposed to look like this perfect man who can do no wrong. His "Golden noble boy" arc is literally the whole concept of his character. Why else do you think rick wrote Aphrodite approving of Jason's looks saying that he needed no improvement (which she rarely does) ?

Because Jason is supposed to be put like a statue to admire and idolize, that's ALSO why rick made sure to add that Jason looks like a Roman sculpture, bc that's like a metaphor for his inner conflicts. The guy was put like an artifact for people to ogle at in camp Jupiter ever since he was a kid of 4. That's part of the tragedy.

Annabeth said it perfectly “Annabeth tried to hide it, but she still didn’t completely trust the guy. He acted too perfect - always following the rules, always doing the honorable thing. He even looked too perfect. In the back of her mind, she had a nagging thought. What if this is a trick and he betrayed us?” Mark of Athena, page 6.

His mother, whom he's supposed to look like, is also a literal world wide tv actress. So you can't expect anything less either.

Also, Jason is supposed to mirror Percy. And let's be real. Rick put Percy in a VERY high pedestal looks wise, aswell, Not just Jason. And that's okay.

Rick made Hazel mistake Percy for a literal god because he was just that good looking (tbf, in a way, when I was younger, I found this to be a little bit of an exaggeration, bro was covered in mud and seaweed and was compared to a god, it was rlly funny to a 10 year old me 😭 yeah but don't mind this though, this was just a younger me jealous that I couldn't be as pretty as Percy was in mud lol) If Percy can be "hyped" up so "unrealistically" in that particular situation then so can Jason. They are both literal half gods, so unrealistic praise is very normal) and rick also made sure to emphasize that almost all the teen characters had a crush on Percy. So apparently that isn't called putting a character in a pedestal but Jason's is? They are BOTH put in pedestals, because they're both heroes.

Jason and Percy are supposed to be equals, so both of them being in the top two when it comes to looks makes SENSE. Because people are supposed to argue about who is better looking, since they're written as foils.

You cannot expect rick to make Percy look like a god and Jason look like a rat 😭 then there's no point of having them as parallels if one has the upper hand in something. Rick did a good job by conveying that they are BOTH attractive, but in different ways. That's why the Percy/Jason looks debate always have mixed answers.

Jason getting complimented by Aphrodite, the GODDESS of beauty, for his looks and her saying that he didn't have anything to "fix" in his face BC it already looks gorgeous = Percy getting compared to a gorgeous Roman god by hazel. They are both equal comparisons in slightly different tones.

[ariseur]

✧˖° - DESIDERIUM.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ - featuring ; satoru gojo x fem!reader, slight hints of suguru geto x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ - synopsis ; “ for what is love if not brought back grief but just a little bit smaller? ” satoru wonders as he thinks about the time you got away from him, little does he know it’s eating you up inside everyday.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ word count ; 13.7k words, 74.2k characters

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw ; sfw, fem!reader, fluff to angst with little comfort, canon au, not proofread, interchanging povs but for reader it’s always second person, technically need a pt2 but lmk if u guys want it, not proofread, mainly satoru x reader but hints of sashisu x reader for a while, spoilers / allusions / mentions of jjk 0 and later manga chapters ( after suguru’s left obv ), mentions and cameo from kenny later, canon character death, mentions of smoking, mentions of blood and typical canon violence, mature language, intended lowercase

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes ; ( request linked here !!) wow so this has been sitting in my inbox for a few months now, this was actually requested but i forgot to link it to the post so this idea was brought to us by the wonderful @skypperlegacy — sobbing in my bed writing this i hope you all enjoy. ( edit: i wrote this note on 8/24 and i’m assuming i’m posting this AFTER my birthday, so take this as a little treat for not posting for my birthday ^.^ )

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes (2) ; it is currently 10/26. i have not finished this yet either. what the hell is wrong with me

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes (final) ; i did it. i finished it. 11/13 oh my days i finally completed this thing. i didn’t even flesh out the full idea so lmk if you guys want more of sad pathetic gojo and reader

i. sunlit hallways in 2005

your footsteps bounce off of the walls of the hallway, sun rays ricocheting off the floor and projecting onto your body as you make your way to your classroom. your eyes zip around in every direction as you tried to scan the room numbers to try and find the one yaga had referred you to. you grimace at his booming voice replaying in your memory talking about these two boys who were supposed to help you — idiots he referred to them as. ‘strong idiots’.

you assume you’d be heading into the classroom with the most noise in it, as the sound of muffled chattering pricks your ears from beyond the sliding door of the homeroom to your left. a long exhale leaves your lips, your shoulders rolling backwards in an attempt to try and alleviate the weird pressure that settled upon them before your fingers find the little slot that allowed it to open the door, cursing yourself as a loud squeak emits from your action.

you scrunch your eyes shut in a wincing manner, taking in the silence before peeking an eye open to see two boys — which you presume were the ones that yaga had mentioned to you. both of your eyes shoot open at the sound of a small laugh, seeing a boy with spectacles and snow white hair snickering to himself while his friend shook his head at him and instead greets you with a small smile.

you clear your throat. “are you suguru geto and satoru gojo?”

they nod, the dark-haired boy scooting out of his seat to get up and properly greet you while the other lazily grins at you, the cerulean lenses of his gracing his face and framing his teasing gaze behind a deep blue. “geto,” the former gestures to himself, “and this is gojo,” his hand waves over to the seemingly brash boy who stands beside him, giving a small wave as his hands come to intertwine behind his back.

you lean forward, ducking your head as you bow out of respect for your new classmates. hair falling in front of your face, you introduce yourself quietly as you hear small shuffles emerging towards you until sheen black shoes come into your peripheral.

lifting your head up a little further, you’re met with the bright face of ‘satoru gojo’, the name striking a familiar cord within your brain. gojo, you think, as in the gojo clan? however, you don’t get to ponder on that for too long before he chuckles at your expression — clearly somewhat impressed with his appearance. either that, or you’re completely freaked out. although, gojo’s pride would only let him choose the former.

“so,” the boy, gojo, begins, “are you the little shrimp yaga-sensei told us we’d be looking after?”

you press your lips together in a soft frown, before your eyebrows furrow with the small huff that left you as geto smacks the back of his palm against his friend’s chest. “‘m not a shrimp, you know — not even that much shorter than you.”

as if to further prove his point, you get an eyeful of white hair as he leans down to meet your eyes, just barely but enough to provide the message. “yeah?” he breathed. his grin makes you nauseous, pearly whites on display and dimmed with the backlit centered illumination giving him a frontal shadow. you tilt your nose up at him before holding his own gaze, his bright ceruleans on display as you replied with a passive-aggressive, “yeah.”

geto laughs, pressing his arm against his friend’s chest to get him to back away from you, the intense scent of cypress and a deep sea breeze no longer engulfing your senses. soft snickers instead fill your ears as gojo stuffs his hands into the pant pockets of his uniform before slipping past you with a hum. geto follows in suit.

you turn your head back to the open doorway, seeing the boys make their way out before gojo turns to you once more. “you coming or what, shrimp?”

you groan under your breath and he smiles at your reaction, now no longer in your sight as he turns the corner; struggling to hold back a grin at the quick footsteps that trail behind him with a hesitant, “hold— hold on a sec! i’m not a shrimp!”

“you are too.”

“are not,” you huff.

his eyes trail up towards the ceiling for a second, tapping his chin as he feigns a long, hard thought before cracking out into another smile. “are too.”

this game continues for a while, and you almost feel bad for geto ��� except the little game of chicken that you and his counterpart had going on was taking up more of your attention at the moment. with his obnoxiously long legs, gojo purposefully takes wide strides to try and tease you at least a little bit, having you make more of an effort to keep up — just because you’re new doesn’t mean that you should be let off the hook so easily, he thinks.

“are too—“

“these are the dorms,” suguru interjects, his tone clearly exasperated at this point. a few minutes of walking and the poor man felt like it was hours of meaningless boredom.

your eyes follow the direction of geto’s finger over the trail of doors that lay before you. he leans his head forward, the golden sunlight capturing his face as a few strands of raven hair from his bun slip out from their ties. “my dorm’s on the very end right there,” he gestures his head to the door at the corner, “satoru’s is two down to the left.”

speaking of him, gojo slings an arm around your shoulders; keeping a firm grip even with only his bicep as you try to squirm away. “don’t worry, i’m sure yaga’ll help you in no time. by the end of the day, you’ll be lazing around in a nice bed with your feet kicked up, thinking about how you met the most beautiful man ever today,” he says to you.

“don’t you think it’s a little weird to call your friend the most beautiful man ever?”

to gojo’s horror, geto snickers from behind him.

“you’re a sassy one, aren’t you. .” he mutters under his breath, a sigh escaping him as the warmth of his arm leaves your shoulders and is instead met with the cool air conditioning of the halls, only the sun’s peeking through the windows warming you up. he takes a step near his friend, hands stuffed in his pockets once again. “well, you can always stop by whenever you do get your dorm, i’ll always be here,” he singsongs. you fake gag at his playful wink.

geto steps towards you, leaning into you as he mumbles a little too loudly ( whether that was on purpose or not remained unknown ), “don’t worry, the girls’ wing is on the other side — luckily you won’t have to see that idiot all the time.” you laugh at your eyes trail to gojo’s small pout from behind the boy, his shoulders deflating instantly once he realized he was left out.

“hey, so like, can we not bully me for today? just once?” he chimes in, tilting his head to the side a bit in question. you and geto share one last glance and laugh together before he walks ahead of you again, gojo lagging behind so you’d walk next to him as well.

he couldn’t help but glance at you, noticing how you keep your eyes trained in front of you. only occasionally flitting to the window to admire the outside scenery. it wasn’t everyday that they got a new student, and if they did, they never lasted long. despite still only being a first year, geto and gojo adapted to the harsh environments of jujutsu society — fully aware of the consequences and what it would take to save non-sorcerers. which only made gojo all the more curious as to why you were here.

“pervert, quit staring at me.”

“hey, people would pay for these eyes on them — you’re a lucky girl, today,” he explains, bumping his shoulder with yours. you glare at him. his smile doesn’t falter.

“so do all new recruits get this treatment or what?” you chide, putting a hand on your hip comfortably as you walk. he hums for a moment. “nah,”. he decides, “you’re special,” his grin only widens the more you banter, bright blue eyes mimicking yours in a sharp narrowing. you hold his gaze for a bit, before ultimately deciding it wasn’t worth it — turning your head with a low, ‘tch’ as you keep your feet moving. gojo does the same.

they walk you around the campus, showing you the track field and the direction in which the girls’ wing is, telling you to report back to them once yaga had assigned you a room, gojo urging you to invite him over one day to which geto nudges the back of his leg with his shoe. and at the end of the day you’re left with a small wave goodbye to your new classmates, smiles on their faces as they walk off back into the dorms; leaving you to roam around with the new-known information.

you look back at the stone arch of the school’s entrance, the stone pathway beneath your feet as you squint from the brightness of the sun just beyond the horizon. a perfect point of which the ground and the sky meet.

you can feel the blocks of sunlight on your chest as you take one last look at it, face softening at the sight.

gojo takes one last look behind him to check on you, seeing your frame simply stand and soak up the golden skies. his lips only quirk the slightest bit upwards, geto quirking a brow beside him only to let an amused breath out at his best friend’s infatuation. “don’t start going all mushy on me now, satoru.”

said friend turns his head back ( geto notices how he takes one last quick glance back before fully rotating his head ) and scoffs, “no way.” geto merely hums and closes his eyes, a knowing feeling growing in his stomach. “she is kinda cute, you know,” gojo mumbles — closing his eyes when geto opens his own to look at the boy dubiously.

he, too, looks back at you only to find you walking off to another section of the high school; presumably to go and talk to yaga to find out where the hell your dorm would be. he chuckles. “don’t ruin another friendship for us by going a little too far with the flirting, this time.”

the snow-haired boy stays quiet at that, creating a small lull in the conversation only filled by the clacking of shoes against pavement. the sun on the nape of his neck slowly eases up with how it lowers beyond the skyline, small beads of sweat slowly seeping back into his skin before he huffs. “can you believe the way she talked to me?” geto looks over to him once more. “‘yeah’, who does she think she is talking to us like that?” gojo makes a dumb face as he mimics you, hands on his hips momentarily as he mocks the way you stood — it was surprising how he was the one saying this.

geto snickers. “you mean the way she talked to you.”

“whatever,” his classmate responds with a yawn, being able to crack a small smile at geto’s laughs of amusement at his frustration ( or how gojo would call it, his ‘suffering’ ). “you’ll learn to like her eventually,” he chides. his friend stays quiet at that once more.

gojo tilts his head up at the darkening sky. he swears he can feel the sun on his chest, too.

ii. the way the clouds shape us

“special grade? guess satoru was wrong about you being a shrimp,” the sound of geto’s laughter fills the air, thin fingers handing you back your student id as you pocketed the small, white card back in the pocket of your uniform.

“he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” you shake your head, placid smile painted on your lips. geto leans against the tree, careful not to ruin his sleek hair against the chipped bark. he watched as you lifted your hands up to the sky. you extend your fingers and stretch them out — watching as the light blue of the sky above you illuminates your open-faced palm and casts a shadow for the rest of your arm.

gojo wasn’t wrong, you were definitely beautiful. even geto knew it, taking in the way your hair splayed out delicately against the vibrant grass, as he could hear the distant chatter of his other two best friends making their way towards you two. you had to thank gojo for this, considering he was the found who found this little safe haven in the first place.

over the past few months ( even if you joined a little later than halfway through the actual school year ), it became quite comfortable for you to chat with these newfound friends of yours. you quickly got along with ieiri, much to gojo’s dismay as he has discovered you two make the best team against him with your sharp words towards him. he’d savor the way you’d lean in and tell him you were never really serious afterwards ( even though he was well aware of that fact, he’d like knowing you still didn’t want to really hurt his feelings ). it really felt like home when you were with them, a sanctuary only for the four of you.

with your eyes flitting closed, geto finally tears his eyes from you to gaze at the duo approaching the two of you, gojo whining about something like usual as shoko barely humored him with the little tolerance she had left; a pale cigarette hanging from between her lips.

you relish in the sun on your skin, lessened from the months before that first day you came to tokyo’s jujutsu high as you’ve adapted. you must adapt in order to survive. you realize that now, which is why you indulge in the small moments you can get — even if it’s just silence with geto or the fact that suddenly, even behind closed eyelids, the sun was gone.

allowing your lashes to flutter open, you see a familiar brunette stand above you. a combination of the sweet, earthy tones emitting from the dewy grass below you and her perfume suddenly hit your nose, surprising but definitely not unpleasant. you hummed, eyebrows furrowed.

she laughs, “eh? you two are just out here without us?”

“sigh,” you roll your eyes at gojo who audibly says the word ‘sigh’, “so inconsiderate, you two.”

geto laughs, resting his hands upon his stomach as he closes his eyes — nose twitching with the leftover pollen floating along with the soft, spring breeze down from its habitat within the trees and the plants enclosing you all.

he doesn’t exactly fall asleep, especially in such an uncomfortable position. but he makes peace with this discomfort and instead seeks refuge in his own place of serenity, only him and his thoughts ( and the quiet chatter of you and shoko ganging up on your white-haired friend ).

you exhale smoothly through your nose, a breath of fresh air leaving your lungs as you stare up at your friend, a smirk threatening to unleash itself on her face even from behind the cancer stick. “those things kill, you know,” you playfully chastise her, watching as she chuckles before crouching down.

she slips the cigarette from past her mouth, the end stained glossy and pink from that one lip product you always forget the brand of, before offering the smoke to you between her two fingers. she hums as you take the tube, the material dry against your lips. “might as well while we’re still alive and young,” she says — and the morbidity of the question no longer bothers you like it would have a few months earlier. instead, you actually chuckle at her dry delivery. you struggle not to choke with your laid back position as you hold it before letting it escape you, a hot puff of smoke emitting in the air.

“so, what’re we doing today?” a pair of lanky, slack-clad legs come into your peripheral along with a familiar mop of snowy hair before it disappears, his voice trailing off as he sits next to geto. you prop yourself up on your elbows, squinting at the sudden bright light as shoko sits beside you inside.

you crack a small smile at the feeling of her fingertips messing with the ends of your hair, shaking out the small bits of grass that got stuck in the delicate strands. gojo, however, thinks you’re smiling at him so he grins in return before your smile is soon replaced with an unsure expression — almost like you’re gonna throw up just from looking at him. he still doesn’t falter.

“what do you think we should do?” you ask after a bit, thanking ieiri under your breath as she’s done helping you primp.

“what if we go to the convenience store for a bit and get some snacks? i was thinking—“

“boringg..” shoko’s thoughts are interrupted by gojo’s loud interruption, her face immediately dropping as she looks at him. “hey, you don’t have to show off in front of your girlfriend every day, y’know,” she shoots back.

he pouts at the brunette, his shoulders deflating as his hands come up to his face to mimic a fake tear rolling down his cheek. a nervous huff escapes you as you look between her, geto, and gojo before you start, “he’s not m—“

“how about we go to the arcade in shinjuku city? they close in like,” he checks the imaginary watch on his wrist ( whether he didn’t know he had interrupted you or he didn’t want you to finish your thought was something you didn’t understand ), “two hours, i guess.”

you roll your neck around on your shoulders, sighing at the low cracks that escape your aching bones. eager for some activity, you shrug. “hate to admit it, but that might be the greatest idea gojo’s ever had.”

to that, he beams. you hear a duet of groans come from your other two friends. “aw, c’mon. don’t give into him so easily,” geto chides playfully.

“not to brag—“

“—all you do is brag, gojo—“

“—but i, personally, think i have a ton of great ideas.”

geto tips head back and laughs. you see the way his eyelids twitch and scrunch with his soft smile, outer corners crinkling as the airy sound frees itself from him. he crosses his arms. “that’s why you personally think that, im afraid ‘s not a very common opinion,” he answered calmly. gojo sulks as he looks to shoko for help. she shrugs and puffs out another cloud of smoke between the small opening she’s created on the side of her mouth.

“we can always bully him some other time, i’m bored and i’m practically losing years off of my life just listening to him,” you mutter to her — perhaps a little too loud as you see gojo’s jaw drop open from your peripheral.

geto gets up, dusting the damp pieces of grass sticking to his pants and the back of his legs before taking a big stretch. you wrap your arm around the other, extending your elbow and mimicking his motions as you let out a sigh at the feeling of weary muscles ( which you can already tell that geto and gojo will use against you when you spar ).

“why don’t we go already then?” he inquires, causing gojo to shoot up as you already start to slowly walk back to the campus entrance. shoko snorted as she shook her head, trailing behind to walk and talk with the raven-haired man. your eyes scan over the perimeter of the horizon, spotting all the grass and the vast architecture of the highschool, squinting as you look for the way you came from.

feeling the air change from behind you and the soft sounds of quick footsteps on grass, you begin. “hey shoko, do you ever—“

then you see his stupid smile.

“oh,” you say. he scoffs, almost like he’s offended that you had such a tame reaction. gojo huffs a bit, still attempting to keep up with your pace. “just ‘oh’? you aren’t excited to talk to me at all?” he groans.

you shrug. “just thought you were shoko ‘s all.”

oh, you really shouldn’t have said that. you think — because once you see the way his face splits into a grin once more, you instantly grimace. “so you are excited to talk to me.”

“never said that.”

“you didn’t have to. i’m psychic.”

“that so? what am i thinking right now, then?” you ask, finally tearing your eyes away from the ground and tilting your head at gojo; who taps his chin and pretends to think ( although, you know that there’s a seventy percent chance that whatever comes out of his mouth will be bullshit considering the way he’s struggling to hold back a smile ).

your question evokes a long hum from him as he looks up to the sky, to the right, and then back to you before he answers, “how handsome i am?” your eyes narrow a bit, one of the rare moments where satoru gojo could render you speechless.

once your mouth drops open, void of sound, gojo’s almost ready to backtrack and apologize before you finally laugh. a nice, hearty laugh that makes your chest rumble in between every breath. and if that isn’t the biggest ego booster for the boy then you’re not sure what is. he couldn’t care of you were laughing at him or with him, all he knows is that he can’t help but chuckle along with you. his chest swells with pride as you lean on the stone archway as the cacophony of giggles slows down.

you wipe the corner of your eyes, looking back at geto and ieiri as they eye you in confusion — but nonetheless give you a pity snicker in response.

“you’re hilarious, gojo — keep it up,” you finally say.

he beams boyishly at you, a warm wave of something washes over him albeit he can’t figure out what. “nice to know i still got it,” he asserted, making you give one last eye roll before you looked back at the stone steps leading to the front entrance.

you skipped forward and turned your body a bit to look at your classmates. the usual scowl on your face no longer evident anymore for it was replaced by a soft smile, one so foreign even to shoko who’s company you more or less enjoyed the most. she pursed her lips around the tobacco stick in an uncharacteristic curiosity, wondering what that fool could’ve done now to make you genuinely laugh.

“i’m gonna grab something from my dorm real quick, ‘kay?” although you were probably saying it to the group as a whole, gojo nodded eagerly as he flashed you a thumbs-up with a small, ‘okay’ as well.

he turned to shoko and geto as you rushed up the stairs and into the building, running along to the girls’ wing as they glared at him. “what?” his voice was too innocent to be gojo, just the sound of his “oblivion” made them want to facepalm. geto held a thumbs up as he mocked his friend’s earlier face while shoko have a light huff, the sound somewhere in between sounding both exasperated and entertained.

“th’hell was that?” she asked, finally stubbing the cigarette out with her shoe ( still keeping a pack on here though, you never know when you might need one. especially when you’re friends with the biggest idiot in tokyo ).

“what?” he repeated.

“nothin’,” geto shrugged, the tiny front piece he kept loose from his bun swaying as he shook his head. he shares a look with shoko that definitely throws gojo off though. he narrows his eyes at them, spectacles somewhat hiding the oceans that are his irises.

gojo crosses his arms. “you guys are just jealous that i can make a pretty lady laugh.”

“you— you don’t think . .” shoko trails off, her forehead crinkling as she looks like she’s trying to decipher something. gojo quirks a brow even though she was thinking aloud or possibly talking to geto instead — he still waits for her to finish her sentence. “what?” he repeats only to be met with a dismissive shake of the head from her.

he opens his mouth to ask what they’re talking about before he hears hasty shoes against stone and looks behind him to see you, walking back down with a small pin clasped in your hand that shimmers in the sun when you hold your hand up.

gojo’s eyes take their own route as they fly away from your palm, down your arm until it reaches your face — a fond smile written on your face like you had been claimed victorious. it made his own smile quirk back up again.

you only spare him a glance before you lope to shoko. he watches as you hand the item over to her before she takes it, a faint half-smile twitching on her lips bemusedly.

“so you can keep your bangs to the side,” you answer — even when no one has asked why you gave that pin to her. “i got it from osaka on that mission last month — thought it’d look cute on you.” geto cocks his head as he tunes out your conversation before shrugging and walking back over to gojo, hands shoved in his pockets.

he chuckles, “no need to pout, satoru.”

“i’m not pouting,” he placed a hand on his hip. unbeknownst to him, he totally was; whether it was unintentional or not. “she’s just playing favorites over here when i’m the one who so graciously invited her to start hanging out with us,” he frowns.

a laugh and a rough pat on the back from geto interrupted him from entering his soon incoming villain arc as he walked back over to you and ieiri, pulling his dramatic friend along with him. gojo’s ears perked up at your voice in the conversation once more.

“oh, you know i don’t like all those weird hair clips ‘n’ stuff—“

“don’t worry,” you lean over, brushing some of her bangs out of her face as you clip them to the side. gojo watches afar as your thin fingers work to cover the small pin with another piece of shoko’s hair, successfully getting it out of her face and concealing the pin in the process. you grin, mission accomplished.

pulling back, you watch as shoko touches her hair — smirking when she realizes how useful it’d be. she pats your head and looks at you before her eyebrows furrow; only then do you realize what she was focused on behind you.

“uh, where’s my souvenir?” your face instantly drops as you feel gojo’s chin on your shoulder, words purred dangerously low next to your ear.

“up your ass.”

“mind fetching it for me?”

“you’re disgusting—!” you push him off as he chortles, his eyes crinkling softly as bouts of laughter overtake him at your exaggerated reaction.

“we’re not gonna make it to shinjuku if you guys keep bickering like children,” you both hear geto chide. you look over to the entrance, a small smile on his face as he teases the both of you.

you scoff, stuffing your own hands in your pockets as you walk over to the dark haired man. “he started it,” you mutter.

he gasps. “nu-uh!”

“yu-huh,” you retort. he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation whilst shoko follows you and geto in return. gojo smirks as you huff and turn around, watching as his friend bumped hips with you on the way there, making mindless conversation.

the air wasn’t so bad, the light breeze felt more refreshing than over. he looked back over at shoko’s hair in thought.

perhaps he’d have to work harder at officially getting on your good side some other time, he thinks.

iii. the taste of blue raspberry

vibrant lights and loud video game chirps wasn’t exactly gojo’s scene despite how he always presented himself; extroverted and inherently obnoxious ( although, he’d prefer to use the word ‘comfortable’ rather than obnoxious whenever you’d refer to the latter ). all he could do was trail after you and shoko, geto following him as he observed the random teens and little kids accompanied with their parents that kept the arcade flowing.

cerulean eyes follow your movements in hopes that he’ll keep track of you. that he wont lose you in this crowd. he’ll occasionally look over at shoko and geto to make sure they’re still here, too.

“so, you chose a shitty arcade spot to hangout in? such poor taste,” he leans down over you, hoping that mild jabs and soft teasing will help keep his mind off of the fact that there’s snot nosed kids running around the already narrow spaces between the machines; their flat footsteps melding together with all the loud sounds as they become synchronized with the beat of the music.

your lips twist into a sneer at the sound of him, slowly turning your head to look behind you at the boy who grinned so slyly. gojo knew exactly what he was doing.

“would you rather have yaga put us to work and sweep the dorms?” you bat your eyelashes as he only smiles further, reveling in how you play along with his little game.

“i dunnooo.. wherever you go i go, i suppose.”

“such a flirt.”

“just being honest,” he puts his hands up defensively as he walks past you to a random machine that stands stationary in front of you, untouched with whirring, vibrant lights that glow brighter when he thumbs a few tokens in the slot at the bottom. as you hear the clinking of the coin hit against the curvature inside of the machine, the snow-haired boy turns to look at you with a boyish smile as he crouches down and points a finger to the blinking button saying, ‘play now!’

you have the urge to warn him about how the game is most likely rigged. you don’t. instead your parted lips close with a huff. gojo is said to be able to do anything, you remember, he’ll learn the hard way.

“you mind getting me a slush at the machines?” he says, lanky body extending to its full height as stands upright again.

“that’s so far — and scary,” you feign a pout. realistically, you were just too lazy to walk all the way over there and back for one item.

“take suguru with you,” he tips his head up to gesture in the direction of the dark haired friend, to whom you see looking out the glass doors at all the kids who run through the place.

so there you are, walking along with geto as you huff about how gojo could have gotten the drink himself. he hums occasionally, looking around and observing the environment to try and make sure you don’t run into anything during your chatter.

“he does care about you, though. you know that right?” his fingers sift through the yen in his palm, the coins clinking around as he grabs some and puts it into the thin slot of the slushee machine.

your lips press together as you hum almost dismissively, head cocked. the cup makes a soft thud against the metal as he puts the cup inside and closes the small glass opening. the machine whirs as he clicks the blue raspberry flavor almost like it’s muscle memory — the blue button lighting up with the white kana in front of it.

“you want something?” geto asks quietly, leaning down to interrupt your analysis.

the thought makes you crack a small smile as you think for a moment before turning to face him. “do you want something?” you inquire. “i’ll pay.”

he waves you off with a soft smile. “it’s alright, i’m not much into sweets.”

you grab gojo’s cup out of the dispenser, putting a clear lid and straw in it as you grab another disposable cup. if you were going to get a slushee, you weren’t going to let geto pay for it by himself. the whirring of machine’s drink being poured almost drowns out the loud, coinciding beeps and animated sounds of the nearby screens you both hear.

“then let me buy you something when we get out of here,” you smile at him.

you fail to notice the way his face softens at you when you’re too busy grabbing the cup, licking off the excess that spills over onto your thumb as you laugh. his smile falters a bit, before he walks with you back to go get shoko and gojo.

you scoff at the sight of the white haired man smirking at the pixelated screen, pointing it out to you and geto. the two of you lean over as you heard gojo sip on the drink while you roll your eyes at the big blue kanji in bold spelling out, ‘top score: satoru gojo’.

“thought you weren’t a fan of blue raspberry,” you hear from behind you.

already, you see the man in question leaning on geto as he looks at you with a quirked brow. you look down at your cup. ah, you think, guess you did. your expression must give something away because you hear shoko amusedly huff next to you.

you shrug. “guess i just wanted to try something new.”

clearly a mistake because his smile only widens as he slings an arm around your shoulder too. “nah, you know what i’m thinking?”

“you never think.” that earns you a flick to the forehead.

he leans down. “i think i’m rubbing off on you,” he laughs.

you try to push him off of you yet he manages to let his weight relax as you struggle to keep him up, “gojo, you ass,” you mutter.

he turns to look at you, his smile looks different. feels different. “call me satoru,” he beams.

iv. ‘the star plasma vessel?’

riko amanai is a pretty girl, you think. you have no idea why she wanted to be the star plasma vessel in the first place. you weren’t there when satoru and suguru went to go meet her, instead hearing her version of the story where they practically tortured her — and knowing the boys, you’re not quite sure that she wasn’t exaggerating.

she likes you, definitely favoring you a little more than tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, you think as you pointedly look at the pair of friends, walking ahead of you.

you look down at riko’s arm interlocked with yours and smile. “so,” you whistle, “what do you think of those two?”

her green eyes dart up to yours before looking at suguru and satoru and squinting. “they’re interesting, that’s for sure,” she mumbles. her lips twist into a sneer-like pout just at the sight of them, evoking a lighthearted chuckle from you. you fail to notice the way satoru’s head turns to look at you ever so slightly at the sound.

it makes riko grin as you playfully bump your hip with hers. satoru had never seen you so lax. maybe because the young girl was easier to handle than himself. he didn’t mind seeing you like this, but he couldn’t deny that it was pretty fun to work you up, too.

he smiles at the thought of your puffed cheeks with furrowed brows, narrowed eyes burning holes into him as he would flick your forehead for the third time in a row.

“what’s gotten you all cheesy?” he hears suguru inquire from beside him, tearing his eyes away from the stone road beneath him to look at his snow-haired friend. “eh? just thinking about stuff,” satoru replies.

suguru hums, his hand still shoved in his uniform’s pocket. “you sure it has nothing to do with—“

“a-tat-tat-tat—!” satoru waves a hand in front his friends face, holding another finger up as a gesture for him to silence. “what’d we say about sharing private stuff in public, suguru?”

“i can’t help it, some ‘gossip’ is too hot,” he shrugs.

“that does not help me—“

“what gossip are you guys talking about?” riko chimes, crossing her arms as the two of them look at her. you quirk a brow yourself.

if he’d had known better, satoru would’ve flinched at the rough hand you had smacked down on his shoulder. his eyes flickered towards you, already spotting the sly smile on your face. fuck you for being so beautiful, he thinks.

“yeah, what gossip are you guys talking back?” you press. he scoffs, waving you off as he continues walking. your lips press into a pout as you cross your arms as well, mimicking riko’s motions as you two whisper about whatever. suguru laughs at the two of you — only a few days and you guys were already twins.

sometimes the thought made your smile falter ever so slightly, knowing that you had to escort her only in a day or two was saddening. but for now, you’ll enjoy the smiles and pats on the back — knowing you’d have to part soon was only so minuscule in a world drowned in familiarity.

you intertwine your fingers with hers instead and swing your arms back and forth before you turn your head to your aforementioned friend.

“hey suguru, what do you say we show riko-chan here that little coffee shop downtown?” you ask, watching as he turns his attention away from his small flip phone’s messaging system ( as he’s most likely texting shoko and making fun of satoru in the process ) before his eyebrows raise with a soft smile.

you hear satoru huff again as his head whips around to look at you. stifling a laugh, you take in his furrowed brows and jutted lip as he sulks.

“hey, why don’t i know about any secret coffee shop downtown?”

“we had just found it walking around one day,” suguru deflects.

“and you didn’t tell me about this super-cool-top-secret-no-satoru café?”

you beam before resting your hand on his shoulder. satoru swears electricity shoots through his nerves as he turns to look at you. he wouldn’t spoil it now, but he’s seventy percent sure that this is the first time you’ve touched him without pushing him ( or as he’d like to call it, abusing him ) away.

“don’t be so jealous, satoru,” he ignores the way you call of his name makes a pit settle in his stomach. you turn to riko, “we’ll share the spot, yeah?”

“if you say so,” suguru puts his hands up in playful submission. satoru only chuckles.

your laugh synchronizes with the sounds around you, like music to satoru’s ears whilst you skip ahead with riko and scan your perimeter. everything sounds clearer now; the birds outside zipping around trees, chairs and drinks clinking, a heavy pair of distant footsteps that you can only assume is the trailing of a few people on their way to the same place.

but none of that really matters, although you’re sure everything does. all these sounds are apart of you and you’re willing to make the most of it. you walk hand in hand with riko as the boys follow in suit.

you scoff at the way satoru pulls the chair out for you before sitting himself in his own and kicking his feet up. his brow quirks cockily at the sound. “ah, so you’re only nice to me when amanai is around?”

“someone’s still gotta keep you in your place, satoru.”

“yes, ma’am,” he laughs, tipping his head back lazily as his hands fold over his chest. suguru huffs and grabs his friend’s feet before shoving them back down onto the cement. “decency, satoru?”

“ehh,” he groans, only peeking an eye at suguru before closing them again and letting his body go lax. you shake your head and laugh, watching as riko eyes him in annoyance. they’ll warm up to each other eventually, you think — and you can tell suguru feels the same.

“this is so cool—!” you chuckle at the way the young girl gleams at the intricate details of the outdoor table and the faint music playing from inside the café. her green eyes shimmer in the light, you notice; perhaps maybe just curiosity glinting in them. she’s only fourteen.

your eyes flicker around your environment yourself, hearing the mindless chatter that riko and suguru partake in about, presumably about what they’re going to do next. you squint at the distance, seeing an unusually tall man towering over a few people as he looks in your direction. your lips purse as you narrow your eyes at him further before he tilts his head up and turns away.

you watch as he walks away, his toned back all you see before you hear a mumble of your name and a tap of your foot.

you look over to see satoru, who stares at you with an indecipherable expression — something between an uncharacteristic curiosity and a standoff-ish glow. your head tilts before you look back over at the front of the café. that man is gone.

you turn back to see satoru leaning over the table with a sly smile. “penny for your thoughts?”

you shake your head and dismiss him with a weary smile and a lazy shake of your hand. “just looking around,” you say — even if you know that you can’t fool satoru gojo, his eyebrows only pinch a bit before slightly rotating his head to look behind him a bit.

“you want a sweet?” you ask, tapping his side of the table to get his attention.

had his eyes always looked so piercing, you think to yourself, as you feel something move around in your chest. rearranging itself along with the soft onomatopoeic thumps of the organ that lays inside.

he hesitates. “nah, i’ll get something on the way back later.”

“who are you and what have you done with satoru?” you chuckle. he ignores the way the usage of his given name makes him feel, the way you say it — syllables still fresh on your tongue. instead, he laughs along with you while looking over to his friend. he doesn’t know what he expected, suguru was always observant; so why was he so surprised to see him looking at the two of you with a raised brow?

you look back at riko before gasping out a small laugh at her chubby cheeks, full of food as she eats it like it’s the last meal she’ll ever have. it only makes your grin grow wider when her eyes meet yours, like a deer in headlights whilst she stops chewing. you both take a pause, even when the boys turn to look at you as well — before you burst out into bouts of laughter. riko’s giggles are muffled by the parfait that’s swelled in her cheeks but she covers her mouth with a polite hand as she tries not to choke.

your cheeks feel warm with the way they stretch to curl into a smile. suguru and satoru exchange a look before satoru smiles right along with you. it wasn’t so bad, he thinks. if amanai made you act like this then maybe he didn’t mind her as much as he thought. his foot taps against the concrete underneath the table. he can feel something wriggling around in his chest.

v. deficit

riko amanai’s beauty, no longer will it be seen as the white sheet frames her features instead, you think.

the deafening sound of applause almost takes your mind off of satoru’s expression; only coldness lies within his features, now.

your hand clutches your side, even with the greatness of the stitches that shoko had blessed your wounds with — you could almost still feel his knife in your abdomen. the stinging never seemed to go away. the clapping doesn’t help, all of your senses are occupied on trying to focus on satoru.

with the close proximity of suguru next to you, you can feel the way his hand twitches against his side while he looks at riko, or more so, the sheet that covers her. you can feel his horror, too. just a couple of days ago, she was fourteen, trotting along tokyo with you

you’re almost upset you weren’t there for her death, you weren’t there to comfort her in her last moments or save her at all. you were only there for the aftermath, the same man who you saw at the coffee shop just days prior. you look at suguru to your right — who knows what he’s gone through, you think.

and yet throughout all the booms of cheers and applause, you can hear satoru’s voice and your head whirls back to him. you almost don’t recognize it when he utters, “i screwed up, it’s not your fault.”

your hand comes up to gently rest upon your mouth in a soft gasp as your eyes try not to trail down to where riko’s shoe clad feet swing with satoru’s steps, the only part of her that’s left unsheathed from the horror of what’s underneath the cover.

his next words come out muffled yet you know you couldn’t escape them even if you tried, so close yet so far to avoidance — but you know you heard him clearly.

he calls your name, then suguru’s. “should we kill these guys?” your stomach churns, the pain in your side gets worse — your head hurts and it feels like you don’t know where you are at one point. you start to question whether anything is real at this point. he adds, “i doubt i’d feel anything about it.”

his eyes don’t dart to yours like they had the few mornings prior, before you had gone to escort the young girl. he had smiled and slapped a comforting hand on your shoulder once you explained how you had a bad feeling. you still do. you wonder if there’s any other feelings you could have, anymore.

you hear suguru’s soft mutter next to you, the applause only simmering down as you try to hyper-focus on his voice. perhaps to ground you, or perhaps you couldn’t escape it; a reminder of what this world is really like. “no,” he says. “there wouldn’t be a point.”

your vision glosses over into a blur and you go to look at the light above you, florescent and blinding. your heart hurts and you do your best not to clutch it through the fabric of your uniform, you can’t be seen like this, you think. you can’t let them see what’s happening to you.

fingers digging into your palm, you tune the rest of suguru’s voice out; even though you can feel his eyes on you regardless. instead, the pair of your own follow satoru, seeing riko’s hand, partially crusted with the leftover pool of blood that had flowed beside her head, swing lifelessly as he walks past the two of you.

your brows knit closer together as you stare at him. everything clips in and out. the noise, the cheers, suguru’s voice slowly melding into satoru’s. “no point, huh?” he huffs. “does there need to be a point?”

“of course there does,” suguru snaps back. mauve irises are nothing but void now, his eyes only fixated on the ground a few feet in front of him. “especially for jujutsu sorcerers.”

your eyes burn with the way they’ve been mindlessly gazing at the snow-haired boy, the back of his head the only thing you can catch a glimpse of behind suguru’s dark hair. it doesn’t feel like they can close, only the sheen layer of oncoming tears coating them so they don’t entirely dry out. “satoru,” you breathe — and with the way things are going, you’re surprised to see cerulean eyes turn to meet yours.

suguru doesn’t bother to look at you since he can already anticipate the crumbling feeling of guilt when he sees your expression. it doesn’t matter anyway. it almost feels like nothing does.

glossed lips don’t part like how they’d usually do, they don’t even grace you with the smallest sight of a smirk like how satoru always would. you’re not quite sure why you whisper his name, what you’ll even say. maybe a mantra that only connects the two of you, something that’ll keep you sane.

he keeps his eyes locked on you for a second more before turning his head and walking away. your hand comes to grasp at your side. the stinging comes back.

vi. pinky promises (of two)

sentimentality was a privilege in a world of jujutsu — you learned, after riko. sensitivity wasn’t trained into sorcerers, in fact, you’d say it was actually trained out of them. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing to be sensitive. although, surrounded by the strong, tears burned hot on your skin and your hand burned even harder when they’d come up to wipe them away.

the birds outside the encapsulated feeling of the trees chirp, showcasing what once looked golden now is tainted with a dull grey that seems to gloss over everything now. your eyes feel droopy, no longer laced with sleep but with the dread that’ll come with the rest of the day.

you wonder how satoru’s doing, how shoko’s doing. how suguru’s doing. his face looks thinner, you noticed as you think back from the recollection of your faded memories from two mornings ago. he won’t go out with you as often, you wonder how badly it fucked him up. you wonder if anything will be the same again.

you run a frustrated hand through your hair, cringing at the way oil meets your fingers. you know you have to wash your hair, but you can’t bring yourself to. it almost feels like a chore, combined along with your classes and being put on your ass every time when you try to spar with satoru.

(he always says he’ll go easy on you and let you win. you huff in annoyance — he never does.)

despite all the breaths of fresh air you try to take, your lungs can never feel free of the burden that they’re tainted with. you close your eyes and savor the heat of the bark against your palm, in hopes that it’ll finally soothe the ache in your chest like how it did all those weeks ago — at the beach in okinawa.

you remember the warmth of the sand against your skin, smacking your hands together when you’d sit upright to rid your skin of the small golden flecks. you remember seeing riko and gojo splashing each other in the water as you heard kuroi and suguru’s soft voices conversation from beside you. the feeling of your hair tied, the brightness of the sun drowning your skin. it’s so vivid in your mind, you wonder if everything was all a dream, sometimes.

a raspy voice breaks your reverie as it excuses itself before you move your propped leg and look down below you. a faint smile finds its way to your lips as you see a familiar brown bob accompanied by the scent of tobacco and rose body spray.

“so distant out here,” she cranes her neck up at you with pressed lips, you internally sigh in relief at the lack of a cigarette that’s usually rested between them. a small pout forms on your lips at her extended arm, looking down at her hand and then back up at her with a cocked head. “i’d say with more to do out here, i would understand why.”

you huff. “i was brutally injured not too long ago, and this is how you treat your favorite patient, let alone favorite friend?” shoko smirks with an entertained scoff.

“i don’t see utahime around here anywhere.”

“shoko!”

she snickers as she makes her way over to the grass, the plush dirt cold against her upper thighs as she unceremoniously plops down onto it. you begrudgingly ( but not really, as the lack of social interaction practically burns your throat ) hop down from the branches of the tree, the heat finally capturing you in all of its glory as you carefully sit down next to shoko.

“always reminiscing, huh?” she asks. you can see the way she fidgets with the turtleneck of her uniform, presumably from the antsy withdrawal of her cigs. you give a small hum — whether it’s an affirmation or not, you don’t know. all you know is that it’s a noise that escapes you, now only a rare sight for the people closest to you.

your tongue tingles with the longing of verbosity. eager to say something, except the brunette beats you to it first. “i get it,” she sighs. “it’s nice to be alone out here.”

“we can’t ever be alone with those two idiots,” you remind her playfully, a chuckle managing to slip past your lips as she groans at the mention of the two familiar boys.

“how’s satoru doing?” you ask softly, plucking at the dewy grass that lay beneath you. shoko looks at you quizzically from out of the corner of her eye before closing her eyes with a snorted laugh. your heads whips around to look at her as you see her head shaking fondly.

a small, contagious huff makes it way out of you at the sight before she looks back at you, honey eyes narrowing once she realizes that you’re genuinely asking. her smile never falters, though ( which is usually a bad sign considering of the sadistic streak you’ve seen her partake in ).

“have you got it for the satoru gojo?”

you gape. “i don’t—! i just,” lips pursed, you huff and tilt your chin up with crossed arms. “the escort was a bust, just wanted to see if his ego wasn’t too hurt.”

at your brash synopsis; your ears grow hot when you realize shoko definitely doesn’t believe you — especially with the way she hunches over a fit of silent snickers.

“shut up.”

“ah, i won’t bully you,” her lips twist into a grin. “for now.”

“shoko!” you throw your head upwards while you fall back and ragdoll, your back hitting the solid dirt beneath you as you put your arms over your head, blocking the sun’s view from your eyes.

all you can feel is the ache in your stomach, even with your friend’s reversed cursed technique, you can still feel the knife that once pierced the flesh linger on. your lips twist until you hear the shuffling of weeds and dirt swipe next to you. you turn your head, lifting your arm only to see the brunette scooting closer. she pauses, “what?”

“you don’t wanna lay down with me?” you feign a pout as you look up at her on propped elbows, the corner of your lip quirking up when you see how unenthusiastic she looks with your antics.

“you can get bugs on you,” she chimes before leaning against the bark of the tree.

“it’s nature, sho.”

“some of it’s pretty gross. you ever see tortoises fuck?”

“you’re so weird,” you laugh before rolling on your back again and looking back up at the sky; eyes gazing at the sun until when you look away, you see faded, floating shapes in your trajectory. she snickers too, looking up at the sky, too.

she’s starting to get eye bags, you notice — the fold of skin forming under her eyes along with faint, darkened circles that sit right under her splayed bottom lashes. unable to blame her, you simply lay there and stare. your eyes still pick up on the way she fiddles with her thumbs placed in her lap, pale yet irritated hands a stark contrast to the darkness of her uniform.

“y’know if it’s me you want instead of gojo, you can say so,” she laughs, interrupting your analysis with how hard you were staring. but this time, you don’t say anything. nothing at all, not even a small twitch of your lips in annoyance or a giggle to her joke, you simply keep staring at me.

she barely tilts her head yet it’s enough for you to notice. she finally asks, “something you’re thinking about?”

the words sit heavy on your tongue, laced with a bitterness you could only describe as filth. “do you ever wonder what’ll happen when we’re older?”

“what do you mean?”

“look at what happened, now.”

her brows relax. “oh.”

shoko’s lips pout out a little bit as she looks off into the horizon, where the school lays dormant with only few staff occasionally walking out or a few students walking out to their drivers to participate in another assignment.

your hands feel hollow with the way they’re too weak to even ball your fists, so you swallow the pit that forms in the hollow crevice of your throat and look back up at the sky.

“we’ll be together forever, right, shoko?”

you hold out your pinky to her — and despite her scoff, she interlocks hers with yours anyways.

vii. words left unsaid, words always heard

“you think it’ll get any better?”

your turn your head to the velvet voice emerging from the shadows, tensing in your spot atop the dorm balcony as you slowly look behind you. long hair is seen first; thick, ebony silk cascading down suguru’s thin t-shirt. you can’t count how many days you’ve seen him wearing that familiar white oversized tee, you wonder if it’s become a second skin for him at this point.

you hum at his presence, turning back to the dark sky that lay before you. looking at the exterior of the school that lay in the courtyard, painted with darkness as only the soft glimmer of moonlight embraces them, embraces you.

“you act like everything will go to shit.”

“i’m not saying that,” his tone is sharp — no longer smooth as how it used to be, he sounds on edge, like the rubber band inside of his throat will snap at any moment.

you hear a few small steps shuffle closer to you whilst you turn around and lean your body forward, the metal of the railing cool against the sweat of your arms. another nightmare, geto notes; from the way your hair is still frazzled and your breaths come out heavy with few quick intervals of inhalation.

you could feel his presence beside you, the aura of tensity thickening the air as you struggled not to say anything. you could feel his eyes on you, observing you. suguru was always observant somehow — you wonder how long he had been that way before you had found out. he was a very interesting boy, you learned early on.

“i never said you did,” your lips twisted like something sour fell damp in your mouth. “you’ve just changed, suguru.”

“have you not changed also?”

closing your eyes, you hope for one more breeze to pass through — for one opportunity, for one sign that’ll release you from this energy. it doesn’t.

“suguru—”

“don’t you ever wonder how the world would be,” a pregnant pause wriggles its way into the two of you, “without curses?”

you look at him only to see violet eyes focused straight ahead of him. he doesn’t glance at you nor even breathe in your direction, his shoulders don’t seem as tense though.

you shake your head with a breathy laugh. “yeah, i guess so.”

you lean further to try and alleviate the pain in your stomach, a churning inside of your gut that gives you a bad feeling just at the thought of it. sharing a look, your heads turn toward each other in the moonlight — he looks paler, you notice. sickly.

“hasn’t everybody? or at least hasn’t every jujutsu user?” you mumble.

( you notice suguru pauses, an uncharacteristic habit that he’s slowly developed — once always so sure and witty with his remarks, now wilted with the uncertainness that’s plagued him. )

“why do we exist?” he finally says.

your eyes dart around, stomach finally squeezing at the discomfort you feel at his question; yet you laugh it off anyway.

“philosophical, are we?” you meager a forced grin, although it only falters slightly once you feel him sigh out a breathy laugh. “a human’s purpose on earth is undefined, i don’t really know the answ—“

“i mean as a jujutsu sorcerer: what is our purpose?”

“i don’t know where you’re going with this,” you finally say. suguru takes a step back and stops resting against the railing. you look down at the high drop, then back at the sky — you wouldn’t want to jump to conclusions, but you can’t help but look at him out of the corner of your peripheral.

( at your absence of an answer, he fills in the quietude for you. )

“we fight curses, right? to protect civilians?” he runs a hand through his dark hair, the sweaty strands connecting with the callouses that lie embedded his fingertips.

you swallow. “uh-huh.”

“but who’s saving us?”

your lips twist into a small pout as you try to comprehend the underlying meaning of his words, you wonder what sort of plan he’s dancing around — why he can’t share it with you. he always shared everything with you.

( your mind mainly focuses on that one blanket that he would always hog when he was over, fleece and blue with white polka dots; now faded and worn, and you’re pretty sure it has one hole in it from when satoru tried pulling it towards him at the foot of the bed. )

“curses are created from human negative energy, the shit that stirs within non-sorcerers that finally manifests itself,” he spits. you don’t move.

“i know what you saw out there. about r—”

you cut him off. the topic ends at the beat of your heart.

suguru calls your name softly, looking back at you with furrowed brows and an inquisitive look upon his face. he seems like he’s genuinely considering this, you think.

a pause ensues, and all you hear are the distant chirps of crickets that inhabit the area. suguru doesn’t, he only looks at you — his ears drowning out any other noises besides the soft breathing exerted from him. he doesn’t seem fazed, he’s thought about this for a while — regardless of your answer, even though he knows it’ll hurt him either way.

“satoru,” you mutter.

“what about him?”

“he doesn’t know?”

“the burden he carries is unlike no other, and i have a feeling we can change that.” he places a soft hand on your shoulder, the warmth of his hand spreading along your arm and only furthering your nausea. “i think you know that, too.”

you turn on your heel, feet similar to lead as it takes everything within you to turn away and head back past the glass, trying to make it back to your dorm before a deft hand catches your wrist. it’s bordering tight, but your head whips around to see him nonetheless.

“promise, right?” his other hand holds out his pinky — almost ironic in a way. you can feel your eyelids heating with the oncoming wave of tears threatening to spill. you can’t though, not now.

it takes a second or two but you apprehensively bring your hand to interlock pinkies, a childish but fond gesture the four of you had always done.

soon, he will have coffee and crepes in the street. he’ll breathe in bliss. empty his cup of its grief, for the new life he will lead — you think.

“promise.”

viii. satoru gojo - the strongest

satoru gojo often feels like he’s not as strong as he can be.

how silly is that?

goodness, to him, is adjacent to a rock flowing slowly through the rapids. he’ll float there first. although, he knows it’ll follow him — he can only hope he’ll meet you in the river, up to his knees, both hands full of something good, like silverfish wriggling for the waters.

a bright, childlike grin on his face as it meets your sheepish one, as if when he were to meet you as a child — being your friend would be worth more than being the heir of the gojo clan. his yukata dirtied and muddy from the cross contaminated water, soaked and dripping once the two of you would make it onto the small rocks. he would’ve been punished by the elders for the mess he had created, but he wonders if it would have made a difference.

he wonders, if you had been there, whether you would have made a difference.

he knows you’ve made one now.

and when he hears the news from yaga, he can’t help but clench his fists like his heart had clenched alongside it. his head pounds with blood thumping through his veins as yaga’s voice muffles.

he doesn’t remember much — he remembers being told about you and suguru, he remembers yelling, he remembers the hot tears that welled up in his lashes as he walked away. he remembers going back to your dorm room, opening your door, and feeling his gut drop at the sight of it.

satoru remembers the lingering scent of your body spray and how it engulfed your room. the small scratches satoru had carved into your desk with a pencil once he had tried tutoring you (it ended horribly and you didn’t get anything done, a smile threatens to tug at his lips at the memory).

the small notes you used to pass in class with shoko folded neatly in an organizer. he picks one up and squints at the shaky kanji of shoko’s handwriting bunched up on the page compared to the way your characters floated on the small ripped piece of paper.

‘did you do #14?’ he read shoko’s.

yours read, ‘yep’.

he could almost laugh at her last response — which read, ‘nerd.’

he wonders how you’re doing with suguru — satoru wants to believe you had no part in the massacre he had inflicted on the village but there’s no way to no for sure, all they can tell is that they found one was suguru’s buttons on the scene. his fingers run along your sheets, neat and made from the days before you had left — he feels his breathing quicken at the sight of your fluffed pillows.

(you knew you were leaving, and that part hurts the most.)

his eyes dance around the decorations of your room, littered with cheery figurines and souvenirs from past missions in shibuya or sapporo, ones you’d always have to march back into satoru’s room for because you knew he had taken at least one.

he had never told you that the only reason he did that wasn’t to be obnoxious, but so that he could pull you into his room and coax you to stay a little longer — how he’d promise you wouldn’t get into trouble with yaga if you just went out for a plate of takoyaki in the middle of the night.

when he had seen suguru in shinjuku that day, all he could think about was that he wanted to tell you — how he wanted to just see you, even if it was only a glimpse; even if you hadn’t said anything to him. he just wanted to see you.

words lingered in his brain, suguru’s request burned into his head. because he didn’t come to fight, he didn’t come with aggression. he only requested that he saw his side, too. a part of him was relieved you weren’t there with him, because he was always weak to you — it would’ve made it so much harder, he thinks.

has he always felt this way about you? feeling what way? what the fuck is he thinking? he doesn't even know.

there's a big, hot, white ball of something within him — something wiry inside of his gut that cuts and scrapes at every edge inside his intestines. satoru doesn’t know what it is but he’s never felt this way before.

but he’ll go outside, and he’ll see shoko or wave to his classmates. he’ll hear the whispers float around in the halls, overshadowing the faint sound of soft laughs he used to hear when he’d bump hips with you when you would take your daily rounds — to help with the dreams you had, you said.

satoru gojo didn’t get nightmares, he just woke up with once again another weight on his shoulders the next morning, groggy with the idea of obligations that would only pile up on him. and although satoru never dared to dream when he was asleep ( nor did he know how to dream when he was awake ), he would only pretend to so that he could roam around at night in search of you.

and when he’d find your figure, shaky breaths escaping your lungs with disheveled hair and tear stained eyes — so beautifully illuminated by the celestial pearl in the sky, the only beacon of light suspended in velvet darkness. you’d look up at the moon, perhaps with a prayer in mind, as you’d only think about what to do next.

like always, he’d sneak up behind you. only this time, he wouldn’t startle you with a playful call of your name or tap your shoulder and be on the other side to confuse you. he’d merely slip behind you in silence, leaning against the railing of the open-view gap that’d let you view the outside of the high school. he’d feel you glance at him with a wobbly bottom lip, swollen from the chewing you’d had to do just to silence your cries.

satoru wouldn’t say anything. but you knew why he was there.

(or at least, why you thought he was there.)

your head would drop low with eyes screwed shut, and only satoru could hear the quaky breath you’d take as you’d try to compose yourself. azure eyes would rake across your figure with a furrowed brow, he never understood why you were so emotional — yet he’d lay a comforting hand on your back anyway. you’d savor the warmth of his palm with only more tears building up in your lashes.

he’s strong. he has to be — whether it’s for you, for suguru, for jujutsu society; doesn’t matter. that’s neither here nor there. for now, satoru will nurse the thought of your memory until it bleeds and stains the very bed he dreams of you in — knowing he’ll awake the next morning and jolt at your absence. he’ll then wash his face, hold his head high, and walk right back outside. the hurts only scabs over for the day before he opens it up again the same night.

ix. migration

“you— what?”

“i’m going to the states.”

geto’s lips quirk into a soft pout, one you’ve gotten accustomed to for the past few years.

“how come?” he asks softly, albeit you almost frown at his tone. a sound that had come to be so comforting — it tingles at your bones in small zaps and shivers. it makes you feel terrible, but you can’t help but indulge in the feeling.

“always wanted to go,” you shrug. your eyes glance to the girls’ bedroom; the two twins suguru had found in that small village that had come to be but a large pile of ash and dismay. hand still warm from tucking the two of them in, it fills you with bitter sweetness.

his eyes linger on your face — you can tell he doesn’t believe you because he always has this tell, where his lips will shift to the side momentarily as he presses them together, almost in thought. you’re not sure you believe yourself, either.

staying in japan does nothing for you but weigh you down with the slow, imminent guilt that swells your chest from the fact that you’re stuck here. of course, it wasn’t an involuntary choice to go with suguru — you felt you had no other choice but to escape the things you had seen at the place that had hurt you most.

although, you can’t help but think about the boy who’s hair lights up the room, who’s eyes can see right through you — it’s almost unsettling how much you remember the flecks of blue and detail within them, practically painting the sky in those colored irises. often times, you’ll lie awake at night; hands folded neatly over your chest as the external stimulus of the outside world provide you with a sense of security, realness.

the expensive eau de cologne of his lingers in your nose, the almost spice of the musk permanently altering your brain that’s only triggered when you walk past advertisers outside of the store trying to sell a similar scent.

you swear your eyes don’t water, even though no one’s presence is there but yours — so there’s really nothing to swear about. you just don’t want to seem like something you’re so foreign to; vulnerability. letting the tears flow down the curve of your cheekbones. you don’t wipe your eyes for it’s the only reminder you have left that that boy exists.

so the next morning, you’ll wake up. slumped over from the thing that eats at your bones, your cursed energy being the only thing you can feel running through you.

fingertips coated with the smallest bit of dust, the leather cover of the suitcase is practically unused save for the few times you’d use it when you’d be sent to the outskirts of japan for certain missions. you almost smile at the faint memories that cloud your brain around that time; shoko’s quiet laughs while utahime and you would whine at small inconveniences on the trip. stopping by certain food stalls that weren’t available in tokyo, trying new things — it makes you miss it.

but you know you can’t go back now.

you pretend not to notice the watery eyes of nanako and mimiko once they see you walking out of the door, nor do you notice suguru watching you walk out the door all the same; the robes clinging onto his figure disfiguring him into a man you no longer knew.

the soft smile that once lied on his young face now replaced by one of feigned amicability; like a customer service smile. you’ve known him over a decade and yet it seems like the two of you’ve only been roommate faintly acquainted with each other. it makes your heart thump a little harder.

you pretend not to feel the way your throat closes up as a single tear courses down your skin; leaving a residue that coats the linear path trickling down your cheek — this time, you wipe your eyes.

x. (not so) divine intervention

tongue sticking heavy in your mouth, any form of noise that you could’ve possibly made dying on your throat. your hands feel a surge of pressure through them, fingers twitching along as the gears in your head turn.

you look different, he takes note of. your hairs parted a little different, a few inches of extra length added on as well. a smile tugs at his lips; one full of mirth and almost jocularity. you look so clean, healthy — strong. there’s potential, he realizes, as he searches suguru’s memory bank of you; your face making a constant reoccurrence throughout his mind. the day you left, you cooking for the girls next to him, you lying next to him, your tears that night.

his half-smile only grows wider.

he cocks a brow before he holds his hand up in salutations. he says your name, but it’s not how he would usually say it. it’s almost raspier, lower. your lips press together as you examine him, your eyes keep flitting back up to his head — intricate stitches wrapping around the width of his forehead.

“hey,” geto looks you up and down. “shrimp.”

tilting your head up, you roll your eyes at the nickname before continuing to walk forward. you don’t know what you expected because he follows you anyway, hands clasped together under the warmth of the sleeves of his robes.

his soft footsteps easily match your quick ones, stern and at least trying to flee. you don’t wanna look at him, whether that’s because you know you’ll crumble or because you’re so upset, you don’t know. all you know is that you can’t look at him now. even when he observes the bustling streets of and makes passing comments about the citizens of tokyo.

“i wasn’t sure that you had gotten back — how come you didn’t find me?” he asks, and you know it’s only because he’s fishing.

you spare him a glance out of your peripheral. you frown softly, it doesn’t even look like suguru anymore. paler skin, thinner cheekbones, lips now a lighter shade of pink with small cracks lining them. an angry, irritated color begins to form around his forehead where the stitches lay, the thread sunken so deep in his skin that it makes your own head hurt at the probable tightness.

you quietly exhale, but you know he can hear the shaky breath that comes along with it. “didn’t know if you were busy.”

“you know i can always manage some time for you,” he smiles bittersweetly. tilting his head up, he looks up at the tall buildings that surround you, admiring the straying leaves falling from the trees. one floats down and makes its way onto your head — your eye twitches as he plucks its off your hair before holding it up to his view.

you take your time to look at it, too. it’s starting to brown with the oncoming seasonal change, an amorphous combination of a golden crisp and veranda green.

“i’ve been meaning to ask your help with something,” he doesn’t look at you, still trained on the leaf. “only if you’re ready to be my partner in crime, again." he smiles at you, one that seems more like suguru. it’s confident and teasing, and with the way he leans a little more forward brings you memories of his old demeanor back in high school, the way him and—

you pause, because for a moment, you swear you could’ve seen a glimpse of white hair behind him. it’s almost concerning how quickly your blood runs cold at the thought. it’s not out of dissent nor is it out of a manifest of obscureness to which you’ve rendered him to.

but once you hear geto speak of his name — it’s like you crumble all over again. your hands going soft and clammy, your chest surging with an almost sort of giddiness at the thought of him again. just like a wishful coin in a pond, it’s beautiful to know that there are still glimmers of this feeling. even this deep in.

“suguru?” you tilt your head back, meeting his relaxed gaze as he halts his movements.

“hm?”

“what are those?” you gesture to your own forehead, keeping your eyes locked on your head as you talk about the stitches on his own. you don’t get a reply.

after that, you don’t pay attention half-way through his explanation, stopping him again with a closer step forward as he talks about some sort of plan. really, the only thing you listen to is the small glimpses you hear of satoru’s name. he talks about something going on in shibuya, he talks about jujutsu high — and you would be lying if you said that the mention of the school didn’t make you a little sad.

you wonder what satoru’s doing, you wonder what shoko’s doing. hopefully, you’ll see them soon — even if it’s just in passing. you know nothing will be the same as it was before, but you can help but wonder what they’re doing now.

you won’t know her now — but as she puffs the remaining tobacco through the small opening of her swollen lips, shoko shakes her head and looks down at her pinky. she wonders if that promise had gone down the drain like you had. she swears she can feel the corners of her eyes dampen a little.

and you won’t know it either — but satoru can’t help but see you everywhere he looks. when he sees the first years walking back home from the mission, he trails behind them just to get the view of them lined up together; yuuji bumping hips with megumi while all he gets is a glare in return. nobara looks up on the sky and drags her feet out of boredom, spewing off mindless bits of chitchat about how she totally ‘did that’.

his neck will crane up to the horizon as his lips only recite your nothings. all he is sees is sunset, yet he’s scarred with the melancholy he carries. he’ll try to close his eyes, your hands coming up to his collarbones before you press down. until he’s bruised with incompetence; until his shame has configured the astronomical.

and satoru will smile, a slew of memories seeping back into the curves of his brain as he thinks back to those times of you — of suguru, shoko, nanami. he never stopped hurting that day, but he can’t help but smile at the sight of something begun anew.

oh well, satoru thinks — he can only wonder to what you’re doing now. something inside him hopes for a day where he’ll see you soon. he’ll wait for the day where he’ll see you soon.

𐙚 holy shit i did it

𐙚 comment to join taglist ; @kasumitenbaz @sad-darksoul @seternic @kalulakunundrum @2ukika @sugimvra

𐙚 requests are open — november thirteenth, 2024

[nervoussagittarius]

hey, let’s not be alone tonight

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt introduces his girlfriend to the world through a video on his personal channel, request

warnings: extreme fluff, maybe some swearing who knows lol

matt sat in the driver seat of his car looking down at his lap. his face displayed a slightly distraught look as he glanced up into the camera.

“hi guys welcome backs to my personal channel…god i hate filming by myself.” he said with a sigh.

his gloomy look soon brightened into a smile as he stated “luckily i’m alone tonight” and turned the camera hoping both of you were in frame. you simultaneously laughed at his little bit before realizing that the camera was in fact very much crooked.

“hey matt,” you said pointing to the lens.

“oh fuck, let me fix it. hang on guys” he said holding a hand up to the camera in a “wait” motion .

matt quickly got out of the car making his way around to the front. he conducted you on which way to move the camera so both of you were evenly in the frame.

you tried to concentrate at the task at hand, but everytime you looked at matt for direction he made a funny face back at you, making you laugh.

“is that good? i can’t tell” you said calling to matt. he sent you a thumbs up in response, and made his way back to his seat.

matt and you were in sync as you looked at each other, then to the camera, and then back to each other.

“you ready?” he questioned reaching down to hold your hand over the center console.

“absolutely” you replied.

“guys, you were all wrong…. i’m coming clean and telling you that i’m still as single as i’ve ever been” matt said with a very serious look on his face.

“what?” you exclaimed with a slight giggle, looking at matt. he tried not to break character, but didn’t last very long as you poked his cheek getting him to smile.

“i’m just kidding,” he said “this is my girlfriend y/n. all of you have been speculating so we thought it was time to announce it.”

”you can talk you know” he chuckled softly squeezing your hand.

“i know, i just didn’t want to cut you off” you whispered, looking into his blue eyes as they softened at your statement.

“hi guys, i’m y/n” you finally repeat waving at the camera.

matt couldn’t take his eyes off of you. you looked so perfect sitting under the lights of his car. he didn’t want to pressure you into having to succumb to parts of his lifestyle, but your willingness to participate in a video with him made him love you even more.

matt was very private with his personal business. he didn’t like people speculating or starting rumors. for the longest time he didn’t want to expose you to the hate that came from his job, but he wanted nothing more then to be able to show you off to the world. you were everything to him and he wanted to celebrate that.

“matt..” you said softly, grabbing his attention. “do you want to tell them what we’re doing today?”

“oh yeah, so i was gonna make an instagram story asking you guys to ask us questions, but i couldn’t figure out how to do it, and then i realized it would spoil the suprise. so nick and chris wrote us a couple questions that they figured you’d want us to answer.”

you released your hand from matt’s with a giggle at his statement, picking up your drink. this caught his attention as he quickly grabbed your drink from you, putting it in your other hand, and grasped the left one back in his.

this made you give him a “really?” look but he just responded with a shrug and a brief kiss to your cheek.

“alrighty” he said dragging out the y. “we’re gonna start out simple and take turns answering questions. y/n is going to go first with the question ‘how did we meet?’”

you laughed, “so matt and i actually have different views on how me met, but nick cleared it up for us because he has a better memory of the situation.” matt jokingly rolled his eyes and he looked at you intently.

“i know that we originally met at a vintage thrift store when i had complimented nick on his shirt. i was wearing this vintage leather jacket and he loved it, so he wanted to show matt and chris. that’s actually when we met, but matt claims he wasn’t there for that, so to him we met at a small gathering one of our mutual friends had for their birthday.”

“i promise i was not there when you first met nick and chris”

“how did they get to that vintage store then matt? you drive them everywhere.” you broke out in laughter at the dumbfounded look on his face.

“okay you may have a point, but i’m still sticking to my original story.” he said passing you the phone to ask the next question.

“okay baby, whatever you say.” you patted his cheek as he once again rolled his eyes at you lovingly.

“how long have we been together?” you asked.

he pretended to think for a second before saying “seven months. literally the best days of my fucking life.”

“really?” you said looking up at him with a small smile on your face.

“of course. i love being with you”

you guys stared at eachother for a few seconds before you cleared your throat looking away with a slight blush on your face.

“okay, next question.” you got out quickly, not being able to make eye contact with matt.

you and matt have been together for a decent amount of time, yet he still manages to suprise you and make you nervous daily. he thinks it’s cute, but you find it a little frustrating. he loves seeing how he can still make you blush just by looking at you. it boosts his ego and tells him he’s doing something right.

“how do you manage a healthy relationship? i feel like nick and chris are asking this questions for themselves because neither of them can stay in a relationship” matt laughed.

“i think it’s all about how you communicate and developing a flow that will bind both of your lives without disrupting the previous routine.” you said through giggles.

“it’s definitely important to make time for each other, but you also have to make time for yourself. especially with matt’s job being very time consuming. we’ve done a lot of trial and error to figure out what’s best for us and our relationship. matt and i also have a rule that we can’t go to sleep mad at each other so it kinda forces us to figure our shit out.”

“i agree.” matt says looking at the camera giving them a slight head tilt. he leaned his head back on his seat turning to look at you.

“okay last question for the night. would we ever start a channel together?”

“do you want to answer this together?” matt asks. you nod.

“on three” you reply.

three counts are made before you both answer. “fuck no” “absolutely not”

the serious faces you’re both making are soon broken as you fall into eachother laughing. a few seconds pass before matt lifts his head first placing a kiss to your hair.

“listen, we’re not saying that y/n will never appear in a video again, but neither of us want the hassle or the constant publication of our relationship on the internet”

“yeah, we’re definitely not one of those couples.” you say with a smile, still leaning your head on matt’s shoulder.

matt finally released your hand, grabbing the camera off the dash. you took this time to take a sip of your drink as matt placed the focus on you.

“any last words for the viewers?”

“we love you all and i hope you’re prepared for matt’s constant talk about me, because nick and chris complain about it all the time.”

you grabbed the camera pointing it at matt.

“and what are your last words mr. matthew sturniolo?”

he looked over the camera to you and then back to the lens.

“let’s kiss the camera, babe” he said.

you both leaned forward to place a short peck on the camera lens. pulling back, you both laughed at the fog and matt wiped the lens clean as he ended the video.

“do you think they’ll like it?” you asked softly.

“i think they’ll love it because you’re perfect, and funny, and beautiful, and i love you.” matt rambled.

“i love you too, matt,” you smiled.

you took his hand, once again, as he started the short drive back to his house.

comments:

i’ve never seen two people more perfect for eachother

the fact that matt wouldn’t let go of her hand the entire time did something to me

i don’t blame y/n. i too would get nervous if i was in the presence of matt sturniolo

nick and chris being the biggest supporters of their relationship and making them questions is so cute.

i can’t wait to see all of the posts matt makes about y/n now

crying at how adorable they are

an: i’m in love with this one and them. i hope y’all enjoyed it as well🤍🤍

[i-am-baechu]

ᡣ𐭩Summary: Yoongi is asked by his father to visit his grandmother. The only problem is, it's in the countryside. Going to the countryside is dreadful, doesn't matter if his grandmother's helper is cute.

ᡣ𐭩 Pairing: Party Boy! Yoongi x Small Town Girl! Reader 

ᡣ𐭩 Rating: Explicit (18+) 

ᡣ𐭩 Genre: Fluff, romance, angst, smut, slow burn, enemies to lovers (one side), hopeless romantic reader Sunshine reader and grumpy Yoongi and big city boy and small town girl

ᡣ𐭩 Part of The Legendary Seven

ᡣ𐭩 Warning: Alcoholism and a couple of mentions of a death in a family

ᡣ𐭩Playlist - All The Stars; Kendrick Lamar & SZA 

ᡣ𐭩 Authors Note: worked late but this is the longest story in the series! I really like this story and I worked really hard on it. I hope you guys like it just as much as I do :). One of the characters in this story plays a big part in the next story! 

The last time I saw you...you were crying because you tripped in mud. I rushed towards you and I grabbed the towel around my neck to help you. You stared at me and I stared right back at you. The bright brown eyes stared right into my soul and I couldn’t help but feel frozen and warm at the same time. Frozen because I never had this feeling before and warm because your eyes told me stories that only I could see. You went back to your mom after I helped you and I couldn’t help but stare at you...

L/N Y/N sat at the end of her patio and stared at the dark sky with a frown. Her fingernails etched away in the dark wood as her feet touched the grass underneath her. Every night she would stare up at the sky because it made her think of him. The way the stars twinkled away in darkness made her remember his dark brown eyes. She smiled when she saw a shooting star. She slowly closed her eyes and whispered her wish. Hoping someone heard it. 

“Y/N!? It’s time for dinner!”Y/N glanced at the glass door with a frown, “Coming mama!” She looked back at the sky and put her hand out towards it, “One day...” 

Min Yoongi leaned back on the couch and took another sip of his whiskey. Tonight he wanted to go to the club alone. He needed time to himself and this was the way to do it. His father lectured him about going out to a party recently and spending too much money on alcohol. It was tiresome. He was in college, college was meant to have fun. He had straight A’s so, his parents couldn’t really yell at him for that. He just wanted to have fun like everyone else. He saw nothing wrong with that. 

He stared at everyone dancing but he felt nothing. The neon lights bounced off his pale skin as he lay there, soulless almost. 

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡

“Three of the legendary seven are taken. I was correct, the world is ending. I’m not shocked that Kim Namjoon captured someone’s attention. He’s the most sensible one out of the group. The talented violinist and class president, now that’s something I didn’t see coming or maybe I did... I saw them dancing away in the garden and it’s clear they are in love. Out of the couples, this is the only couple I’m rooting for. The shy violinist who gives her one hundred percent to her partner is a story that Jane Austen would write herself. The couple is more private, unlike his friends. I’ve only sighted them once recently when Namjoon was getting a book for her from the top shelf in the Library. I suppose this is what a relationship is supposed to be...boring. Until then, Pen.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the article and put his phone back in his pocket. He walked through the loud crowd and played his music as loud as he could. Another Pen story out and it was annoying. It’s amazing how people waste their time to bring down others. Get a hobby. He cracked his neck as he made his way to the lunch court. He knew this was going to affect Jisoo and knowing Namjoon...he was probably using his power to find out who wrote the story. 

Yoongi saw Bora and Lin comforting Jisoo at the table, making him frown. He walked towards the table and sat next to Hoseok, “I’m guessing she read the article.”

Hoseok nodded his head and leaned towards him, “Jungkook tried making her feel better by saying at least the article isn’t that bad.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Of course he did...”

Jisoo looked up and gave Yoongi a small smile, “Go-Good morning Yoongi.” 

“Jisoo, are you alright?”

Jisoo sighed and shook her head, “I’m mad at myself more. I saw Pen at the party...when we were dancing in the garden. I saw her and I didn’t do anything about it. I feel so...helpless.”

Jin shook his head and placed his hand on top of hers, “It’s not your fault. It’s the person that is doing this.”

She sighed and looked at Bora and Lin, “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

Bora shook her head and rubbed her shoulder gently, “Nonsense, we’re always here for you.”

Lin nodded her head and smiled, “We’ll get through it together.” 

Yoongi looked up to see a stressed Namjoon. He sat next to him and sighed, “The principal said there’s nothing he can really do. “Freedom of speech”.” 

Jimin rolled his eyes at this and crossed his arms over his chest, “Freedom of speech my ass.” 

Hoseok clapped his hands and gave everyone his signature smile, “Let’s talk about something else.” 

Jisoo nodded her head and glanced down at her violin, “I-I have another concert...I-I was wondering-”

“We would love to come, Jisoo.”

Jisoo looked up and locked eyes with Namjoon with a frown, “You have your debate though. I don’t want you to miss it.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and gave her a soft smile, “I can miss one. I don’t care, I’m going to support you.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the scene and went to stand up but was stopped. There was a group of girls in front of him with hopeful eyes, eyes that annoyed him, “Oppa-”

“The answer is no. Have a good day.” 

The girls frowned at this and walked away from him. Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck with annoyance. He looked back to see Bora shaking her head at him, “What? They do this to me every day.” 

“Yoongi, have you ever tried giving someone a chance?” 

“Dating isn’t necessary. I don’t need a person in my life right now.” 

Lin let out a small laugh and leaned her head against Taehyung who smiled at her, “That’s what Tae said and now look at us. We're happier than ever.” 

“And I’m very happy for you guys. I just don’t want that. A relationship especially with the girls here on campus would be a waste of time. They only want me for my money, that’s it. It’s a waste of time to try to understand them when they don’t want to do the same with me.”

Hoseok sighed and shook his head, “My best friend is going to be single for the rest of his life.” 

Jin let out a small chuckle, “Good luck at finding a girl that doesn’t care about that here.” 

Bora gave a quick glare to Jin and a comforting smile to Yoongi, “There’s a girl out there for you, Yoongi. They will love you for you, nothing more and nothing less.” 

“We’ll see if that happens any time soon.” 

“Y/N, are you alright dear?”

Y/N wiped her nose and nodded her head, “Sorry, I just had to sneeze all of a sudden.” 

Min Alda let out a small laugh and handed her a tissue, “You know when people sneeze that means someone is talking about you.” 

Y/N blew her nose and tilted her head at Alda, “Who would talk about me?”

“You never know dear.” 

Y/N let out a small laugh and collected the bowls from Alda's kitchen table. She went towards the sink and stared outside with a peaceful look. The day was sunny and everything was lush green from the rain last week. It was a beautiful day. She turned towards Alda and smiled, “How about we have a small walk around the neighborhood? Get you some fresh air.” 

Alda smiled at this and slowly stood up with her cane, “You just want to see that Yunho boy.”

Y/N gave her a confused look and tilted her head, “Yunho? He’s my friend.”

Alda raised her eyebrow and let out a small laugh, “Does he know that?” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and helped Alda put on her shoes, “Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?”

“Dear, you have so much to learn.” 

“Mama said the same thing...even Jiwon said that.” 

Alda patted her back and shook her head, “Let’s take that walk.”

Y/N quickly put her shoes on and smiled, “Let’s go. I want to show you our garden, papa just put down roses for Mama.”

Alda smiled at this, “Your father truly loves your mother.”

Y/N smiled at this and opened the door for Alda, “He does...it makes me want someone to love me like that. Someone who would put down a bed of roses during the rain because he knows it’s her favorite flower. One day I’ll get that I’m sure of it.” 

Y/N locked the door as Alda watched her with a small smile, “You will get that one day. You're a sweet girl, who wouldn’t fall for you.” 

Y/N let out a nervous laugh and scratched her cheek, “I feel like a lot of people wouldn’t like me.”

“Nonsense, you sound like my grandson.” 

Y/N placed her hand behind her back and raised her eyebrow, “What’s his name?”

“Yoongi! Did you hear me?” 

Yoongi took off his headphones and stared at Jungkook, “What?”

“I was talking to you for five minutes and you didn’t notice?”

Yoongi shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, “I was thinking about something. What do you want?” 

“Jimin is throwing a party and he wants to know if you would go.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at this, “Why is Jimin throwing a party?”

“He wants to see her.”

Yoongi sighed and shook his head, “He needs to stop. She’s never going back to him.”

“Don’t let him hear that or he will get more heartbroken.”

Yoongi ran his fingers through his hair and nodded his head, “I’ll go.” 

Yoongi got up and left the lunch table to make his way to the theater room. During this time there was no one in there and that’s what he needed right now. Peace and quiet. He opened the doors and his eyes landed on the piano. He tossed his backpack in the front row and he let his fingers tell the empty room his feelings. 

Y/N woke up the next morning to the birds chirping away by the window. She groaned at the sound and pulled her pillow to cover her face. It was one of those days that she didn’t want to get up and do something but life is never that easy. She got up from her bed and headed towards the kitchen with a tired look. Her mother and father were sitting at the table with their morning coffees. Talking away with the sunshine blazing their backs. She leaned against the doorframe and smiled at the scene before her. Her parents loved each other so much and she was so grateful that she had a childhood with a healthy home. 

“Good morning, Y/N.”

She waved at her dad and went towards the table with her messy hair, “Are you going to help the Jeongs?”

Her dad wiped off his mouth and nodded his head, “Their cow is about to give birth. They were worried about her health.”

Y/N’s mom nodded her head at this, “We’re going to be spending more time over there. Are you going to be okay by yourself more?”

Y/N took a sip of her orange juice and she nodded her head, “I’ll be okay. What’s the worst thing that can happen?” 

Her dad shook her head and took a sip of his coffee, “Y/N don’t say that.” 

Y/N let out a laugh and took a bit of her eggs, “Is Yunho coming over?”

“Yeah, he’s bringing more eggs for us.” 

Y/N smiled at this, “Can I walk him back to his farm? I want to see Daisy.”

Y/N’s mother smiled at her and nodded her head, “I know that cow means a lot to you.”

“Of course it does, I named it.” 

Just then the door knocked and she looked up to see Yunho holding a basket of eggs. Y/N got up and quickly made her way to him, “You're early.”

Yunho smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders, “Wanted to surprise you. I also brought butter, my mom wanted to say thank you for taking care of the hens.” 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and gladly accepted the butter, “I will always take care of Helen.”

Yunho smiled at her and glanced at her hair, “Did you just wake up?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and walked away leaving an amused Yunho, “You already know the answer to that, don’t tease me.”

Yunho placed the eggs on the counter and watched Y/N putting the butter in the fridge. He smiled to himself, “It’s my job to tease you.” 

“I have to get ready to take care of Alda but Mama said I can walk you back. I want to see Daisy.”

Yunho nodded his head and turned towards her parents, “Good morning, Mr and Mrs L/N.”

“Good morning Yunho. How’s Daisy?”

“Uncomfortable.” 

Y/N frowned at this, “I have to see her before birth.”

“Y/N, honey, you should change before you go to the farm.” 

Y/N glanced down at her pink pajamas and nodded her head, “Riigghhtt. I’ll be back.” 

Yunho watched Y/N run up the stairs and he couldn’t help but laugh at her. He leaned against the counter as her parents smiled to themselves. Y/N’s mom leaned towards her husband in a hushed tone, “He’s in love with her.”

“I see that dear. Don’t spoil my breakfast please.” 

“Dear, you have to grow up.” 

“No...I don’t want to.”

Y/N came back downstairs in jeans and a simple t-shirt. She finished her outfit with a high ponytail and smiled at everyone, “I’m ready to see Daisy.” 

Yunho nodded his head and headed towards the back door, “Let’s go before she falls asleep.” 

The two walked down the dirt path talking about Yunho’s farm. Y/N’s played a big part at their farm. As the only Veterinarians in town, they take care of all the animals. Yunho’s family gets a special discount because of how close the two families are. Y/N knew Yunho since she was in diapers (well she was older than him by two months). They were always close but she was closer to Kim Jiwon. 

Y/N entered the barn and her eyes landed on Daisy. She ran towards the white cow and smiled at her, “Daisy, my baby.” 

The cow looked up at her and Y/N petted her head, “She looks so tired.”

Yunho frowned and nodded his head, “She does. I’m doing everything in my power to make sure she’s comfortable but it's hard when she's ready to pop.” 

“I know. I hope she gets back to normal life soon.”

Yunho placed his hand on top of Y/N’s and gave her a smile, “She’ll be okay. Especially in your parents' care.”

“They do work hard.” Y/N glanced at her watch and smiled at Yunho, “I should get going. I have to help wash Alda’s hair. I’ll see you later.”

Yunho nodded his head and he watched her leave. He glanced down to see Daisy staring at him causing him to huff, “Don’t look at me like that.” 

Y/N opened Alda’s door and smiled when she saw the older woman knitting on her couch. She took off her shoes and quickly slipped on the slippers that Alda bought her years ago, “Alda, what are you knitting there?” 

Alda looked up and gave her a soft smile, “I’m knitting a blanket for my grandson.”

“For Yoongi?”

“Yes, I’m sure he’ll visit me soon.”

“I hope he visits soon...” 

Yoongi walked into his house to be met with his father’s eyes. Yoongi sighed and tossed his bag on the couch with annoyance, “What?”

“Yoongi, why did you go to another party after your mother told you not to?” 

Yoongi sighed and went towards the kitchen to get a water bottle, “I still showed up to class the next day. I also got the highest grade, why does it matter?” 

Mr. Min sighed and shook his head as he made his way to the kitchen, “That doesn’t matter. We're worried about you, is something happening? You can tell us anything even if it’s hurtful towards us.” 

“Nothing is wrong. I just want to go out and have fun, that’s it. It’s not affecting me-”

“But son it is. You go out to party every day and you drink every day. We want you to be happy in your life without relying on that dangerous liquid.” 

Yoongi took a sip of his water and leaned against the fridge, “I’m fine...” Yoongi walked past his father and went straight to his bedroom. He locked his door and walked to his balcony. He leaned against the railings and looked up at the dark sky. He smiled to himself when he saw the star twinkle away in the darkness. He took another sip of water but this time he closed his eyes and made a silent wish. When he opened them he saw the same star twinkling away, as if it winked at him, “One day...”

Yoongi was in the bar all alone. It was another day that girls would throw themselves against him and all the guys asking him advice about their futures. No one wanted to talk to him about his day or how classes were. No one gave a fuck about him. Sure his parents care for him but that wasn’t something he craved for. He wanted something deeper, something real. He took a sip of his whiskey and looked up at the TV. The alcohol made him feel seen. He made him feel warmth and that’s all he wanted. Nothing more and nothing less. Just to feel something. 

The bartender poured him another drink and he slouched back in his chair, his friends wouldn’t understand. They just saw him as someone that has a problem. They were right but fuck he just wanted someone to hear him say it. He was so tired of feeling lonely. Especially when he was in a room filled with people. His friends loved him but even with them he felt lonely... Maybe one day this feeling can escape. He tipped the bartender and he walked outside into the cold hair. He let the cold winds push his hair away from his face. He looked up to the night sky and he smiled when he saw the stars again. 

He shook his head and made his way back to his house. He already made a wish last night, he can’t make the same wish again. He stopped walking and looked up at the sky, it was as if it was calling out for him. He looked up and his eyes landed on a star that was twinkling away. He let out a small huff and nodded his head. He closed his eyes and made a wish, the same wish he made last night. Let me feel warmth again. 

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･

Yoongi was walking with Hoseok when he was stopped by Lin. He glanced at Hoseok who just shrugged his shoulders. He looked back at Lin with a raised eyebrow, “Yes?”

“My mom wanted to make sure you were okay today. She said something is going to happen to you but she doesn’t know when.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “You believe in your mom’s fortune now?” 

Lin shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest with a worried look, “No but if it involves someone’s safety I become cautious.”

“Lin, I’m fine. What did she say?”

“She said the stars will always give you the answer...oh also something about a cow.” 

Yoongi scoffed at this and walked past Lin, “I would never be near a cow.” 

Y/N petted Daisy and smiled to herself, “Yunho, are you joining me and Jiwon today?”

Yunho stopped raking through the hay and let out a sad sigh, “Sadly, I won’t. Mom and Dad want me to help with the hen house.” 

“What’s wrong with the hen house?”

Yunho put the rake back and looked at Y/N with a sad look, “It's coyote season. We have to make sure the house is secured.” 

Y/N stood up from Daisy and pointed at Yunho, “You have to make sure Helen is safe.”

���What about Hector?”

“All the hens but...Helen is more important to me.”

Yunho rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Y/N it's just hens. You go have fun with Jiwon. I know it’s been a while since you had girl time.” 

Y/N nodded her head and gave Daisy a kiss on the top of her head, “I’ll talk to you later!~”

Y/N walked down to the only cafe in town. It was small but it was perfect on any occasion. Blue Blood was owned by Jiwon’s family and it was very homely. It also helped that Y/N got a family discount whenever she went there. She opened the door and she waved to Jiwon who was already waiting for her. Jiwon lived in the city for half of her life but one day her parents suddenly wanted a change. Y/N was the first person to welcome her in the small town and Jiwon was so glad that her family moved here. 

“Y/N, were you with Yunho?”

Y/N slid the chair out and sat down with a confused face, “Yeah? I already told you I was visiting Daisy.” 

“Are you sure it was just because of Daisy?”

“Oh, I saw Helen too.” 

Jiwon shook her head and took a sip of her tea, “Well, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with me to visit my friend?”

Y/N tilted her head at this, “Oh? Where?”

“Seoul University”

“Seoul University? Isn’t that a rich school?”

Jiwon laughed at this and nodded her head, “Yes it is, do you want to come?”

Y/N shook her head, “No, I don’t want to be singled out. They can smell the poor.” 

Jiwon shook her head, “You could meet Mr. right there, you know.” 

Y/N leaned against the table and pouted, “No, there’s only one person I want.”

“Yes I know, Mr. Brown eyes. Do you even know his name?” 

Y/N shook her head and stared at the ceiling with a dreamy look, “He had the darkest brown eyes I have ever seen. There was this sparkle in them that called out to me. When I see those brown eyes again, I’ll be the luckiest girl in the world.” 

Yoongi walked across campus after getting an urgent message from Hoseok. Usually, Hoseok is confident about his dancing but for some reason today was different. Yoongi knew that Hoseok could do anything but he wished Hoseok’s mind could see him the way he saw Hoseok. Talented and amazing. Yoongi opened the door to see Hoseok sitting on the floor. Yoongi frowned at this and closed the door, “What’s wrong?”

Hoseok looked up and sighed, “I saw this girl...”

Yoongi nodded his head and walked towards him. He tossed his bag to the corner and sat next to Hoseok, “What happened when you saw the girl?”

“I froze. She was doing ballet at the dance studio near my house. I didn’t really see her face but her dancing made me feel frozen. It made me feel something.”

“Like what?”

“It made me want to dance with her and understand her but...I don’t think I can.”

Yoongi shook his head at this, “You're an amazing dancer. You can do anything.”

“Yoongi, you didn’t see how she was dancing. It was like a movie.”

“You dance like a movie too, Step up 2.” 

Hoseok chuckled at this and shook his head, “You're stupid...” 

“I cheered you up and this is how you treat me?”

Hoseok let out a laugh and got up from the floor, “You want to get dinner?” 

Yoongi nodded his head and grabbed his bag, “You paying?” 

Hoseok shook his head, “Jin is. He wants to talk about Jimin’s party with us.”

“I forgot about that. Are you going?” 

“Not sure but knowing Jimin, he’s going to invite her.” 

Yoongi closed the door and rolled his eyes, “I keep telling him to let her go. It’s not healthy.” They walked down the empty dance building and Yoongi couldn’t help but scoff at the idea of trying to get attention from someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with you. Yoongi opened the door and they walked into the parking lot as he stopped himself from rolling his eyes at Hoseok.

“He loves her Yoongi, he can’t let her go that easily.” 

“Hoseok, it's been a year.”

Hoseok opened his car door and gave him a pointed look, “Don’t make Jimin feel bad for being in love.”

“I won’t make him feel bad for being in love. He just needs to let her go, it’s not healthy.”

Hoseok climbed into his car as Yoongi did the same, “You're just saying that because you've never been in a relationship before.”

“I was with Hanni for two years, remember.” 

“You were in middle school, that doesn’t count. That only happened because you didn’t want to say no to her.”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders, “It counts as a relationship still.” 

They walked into the restaurant and their eyes landed on Jin who was looking at the menu. They made their way to the table and sat down. Yoongi hated eating here, he always felt like he was never good enough to sit there (even though his father helped fund the place), it felt unwelcoming. Yoongi picked up the menu and glanced at Jin, “Why-”

“I don’t think Jimin should have this party.”

Yoongi glanced at Hoseok and then back at Jin, “Why?” 

Jin put down the menu and sighed, “For starters, it’s not healthy for him and Yoongi, you should stop going to parties. Your dad called my dad and I got yelled at for something I didn’t do.” 

Yoongi groaned at this and leaned back in his chair, “Sorry that you got yelled at. Stupid old man.” 

Jin frowned at this and shook his head, “Yoongi, he just cares for you.” 

“I know he does but I’m not doing anything wrong.” 

Hoseok took a sip of his water and sighed at his friend, “They’re just worried. You can’t blame them for being worried about their son who drinks every day.” 

“Why am I getting a lecture? We were talking about Jimin.” 

Jin rolled his eyes at this, “I think we should tell Jimin no more parties.” 

“Let him have this one and then we’ll talk to him. You know why he’s doing it on that day.”

“I know it’s their anniversary but we can’t let him do this to himself. Were his brothers.” 

Yoongi nodded his head and glanced at Hoseok, “You talk to him. You live with him, he’ll listen to you.”

“Hopefully he does. Fine, this is the last party.”

Jin nodded his head and turned towards Yoongi, “This should be the last party for you too Yoongi.” 

“Why?”

“Just do it before something bad happens.” 

“Nothing bad will happen.”

The waiter came to the table and smiled at them, “Drinks?” 

“I’ll take the whiskey.” 

Jin and Hoseok glanced at each other with worried eyes but Yoongi ignored it. He just wanted to feel the warmth before going home. Now with Jimin’s party being his last party for a while, he needed the warmth. What’s the problem with that? 

“Yoongi, how could you land in the hospital?” 

Scratch that there is a problem with that. Yoongi groaned in bed as his mother stared at him with shocked eyes, “Mom, I don’t need a lecture right now. Please.” 

She shook her head and turned towards her husband, “I can’t believe this.” 

If Yoongi was being honest, he doesn’t remember much at Jimin’s party. This was the first time he got drunk like this. Sure he’s been drunk before but nothing like this. He never had to go to the hospital to get his stomach pump but here he is. Of course, Jin called his parents as soon as he was admitted. Yoongi had twenty minutes of peace until the door opened to angry faces, great. 

“Yoongi, I told you no more, why did you do it?”

“You wouldn’t understand....no one does.” 

Yoongi’s father sighed at this and shook his head, “Son, why can’t you see that we’re worried about you.”

“Dad, this was the first time that it happened. It’s not going to happen again.” 

His father sighed and he glanced at his mother before meeting Yoongi’s eyes once more, “Son, I want you to do something for me.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow and looked at his father, “What? I’m kind of in a hospital bed.” 

“I want you to visit your grandmother for the rest of the month.”

Yoongi's mouth dropped at this, “Wh-What all of a sudden? It’s in the countryside away from-”

Yoongi’s mother grabbed his hand and gave him a desperate look, “We just want you to be better. Please go to her and stop drinking for the rest of the month, please.” 

Yoongi's eyes widened and when he saw his mother crying he knew what he had to do, “I’ll go.” 

Y/N walked to her patio and sat at the end with her feet touching the grass. It was the same routine she did every night. Looking up at the sky to make a wish for him to come back to her. Her mother joked with her saying she was Snow White singing Someday My Prince Will Come every time she looked at the dark sky. She couldn’t help but agree. She knows one day her wish will be heard and when it happens, her world will be complete. 

She closed her eyes and then made the simple wish, Let me see him, please. She opened her eyes again and she let the chill air engulf her in a hug as she sat there. She knows it’s silly but she knew it was going to happen to her. He was going to come back to her and everything will make sense, she just knows it. That’s how things were supposed to be. 

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡

Yoongi doesn’t remember the last time he was in this neighborhood. It’s probably been about fourteen years (maybe more) since he stepped foot in the small town. It’s hard to imagine that his father grew up here, especially now since he has multiple penthouses under his belt. Yoongi leaned his against the bus window as he stared at the fog with an emotionless look. He hasn’t seen his grandma in years, he still talks to her through letters but that's about it. He loves his grandmother but he is much closer to his grandfather. When he passed away, Yoongi couldn’t spend time in the neighborhood anymore. It was hard for him to understand what happened but he’s older now and it was different. 

The bus stopped and Yoongi got off with a small thank you to the driver. He was expecting to be alone but he was met with warm smiles. There was a girl standing next to his grandmother and he glared at how close she was with her, “Oi, who are you and why are you holding my grandmother?”

Y/N tilted her head at him and let out a small laugh, “I’m her helper. I’m not grandmanapper.”

Yoongi's eyes twitched at the gentle tone but his eyes landed on his grandmother. She looked good for her age if he was being honest. Even though she had a cane and a helper, considering she was going to turn one hundred this year, she looked young. Alda smiled at Yoongi and the smile made Yoongi’s heart melt, “My grandson, I missed you so much.” 

Y/N helped Alda walk closer to Yoongi and Yoongi couldn’t help but feel jealous. They were really close and he knew he had no right to feel this way but he couldn’t help it. He glared at the girl and let out a small scoff, “What’s your name?”

“My name is L/N Y/N. No need to be hostile.”

Yoongi really hated how kind her voice was because it was making him feel like a dick at the moment. Yoongi nodded his head and then back at his grandmother, “You look really good, gran.”

Alda smiled at this and glanced at Y/N, “It’s all thanks to my Y/N. She takes good care of me.” 

Y/N felt her face flush and pushed some of her hair back from Alda’s forehead, “Thank you, Alda.” 

“How much is my father paying you?” 

“I don’t get paid to do this...I just naturally became Alda’s helper. I have a degree if you're worried about my qualifications.” 

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at this and crossed his arms over his chest, “You do this for free? Why?”

“I love your grandmother, that’s why.” 

Alda glanced at Y/N and smiled, “You can go to Jiwon. I’ll be fine with my grandson. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure-”

“You don’t think I can take care of her?”

Y/N glanced at Yoongi and swallowed her spit in pure nervousness. She shook her head as she felt a drop of sweat going down her back, “N-No that’s not what I meant. I just want Alda-”

“Y/N, don’t explain yourself to him. He’s just being annoying. Go to Jiwon and have fun.”

Y/N sighed and nodded her head. She leaned down and kissed the top of Alda’s head, “I’ll see you for dinner.” She turned towards Yoongi and gave him a nervous smile, “It was nice meeting you.” Y/N walked away and tried to ignore the stare on her back. She felt the burning sensation of his stare and it was actually making her feel like she was going to die from embarrassment. 

Alda smacked Yoongi with her cane and he rubbed his knee, “Don’t make her feel uncomfortable. Also, I know that look.”

“What look?”

“You think my Y/N is cute.” 

Yoongi looked up at his grandma and rolled his eyes, “Let’s go have lunch.”

“You didn’t deny that.” 

Y/N walked to Jiwon’s house and she smiled when she saw her in the driveway. She ran towards her and hugged her from behind. Jiwon let out a laugh and shook her head, “You're here early. I thought you were meeting Alda’s grandson.” 

Y/N huffed at this as she let go of Jiwon, “I did meet him. He’s intense.” 

“Was he cute?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and leaned against Jiwon’s car, “He was handsome but not-”

“Not for me because brown eyes will come to me.” 

Y/N happily smiled at this and nodded her head, “See, you knew.” 

“What happened with Yoongi?”

“I don’t think he likes me. I get it, if I saw someone that close with my grandmother...I would feel jealous.” 

Jiwon laid down on her hood and stared up at the grayish sky, “I guess that’s wholesome. If you think about it.”

“It is...I’m not going to hold it against him. I hope he doesn’t act the same when we meet again.” 

Oh, Y/N hates being wrong. She sat at Alda’s dinner table with Yoongi ignoring her completely. She sighed and glanced at the window, what was she supposed to do? It was clear Yoongi didn’t like her and she barely even talked to him. She turned back and ate some of Alda’s famous kimchi as she ignored the eyes. 

“Y/N, how was Jiwon?”

She sat up straight and turned her whole attention to Alda with a soft smile. Yoongi saw how she reacted to his grandmother and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. It was clear Y/N cared deeply for her but he was still wary of her. 

“I was helping her pack for a small vacation. She’s excited to go to Seoul.” 

Alda turned towards Yoongi and smiled at him, “Jiwon is going to Seoul university. Isn’t that the school you go to?”

“Yes it is.” 

Alda turned towards Y/N and her smile became wider, “Yoongi is doing a dual degree.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she looked at Yoongi, “What are you studying?”

“Law and music.” 

Y/N placed her chopsticks down and turned her body towards Yoongi. Yoongi felt his body get warm at the attention but he shook it off, “Music? Do you play? I assume you do but...”

“I play piano and violin.” 

“Wow! My mom tried having me play Violin but I kept failing. I can play the triangle well.” 

Yoongi snickered at this, “You can play the triangle? That's it?” 

Y/N nodded her head, “If you ever need a triangle for your song, call me. I’ll play my heart out~.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes and took a sip of his water, “Are you going to school?”

Y/N shook her head and put another piece of kimchi into her mouth, “No, I graduated last year. I did a simple program to become a caregiver.” 

“Why don't you go to a senior citizen's home then?”

Y/N raised her eyebrow at this and shook her head, “Because I’m happy here. Who wouldn’t be happy here? Ohh, I have to introduce you to Daisy. I have to ask Yunho but you have to meet her. She’s going to have a baby.” 

Yoongi went to glance at his grandma but he didn’t even realize that she got up from the table to do the dishes. How could he not notice her move? He sighed and looked at Y/N, “I have to unpack.” 

“Please, I'll make it fun. I promise.” 

He saw her pleading eyes and he sighed, don’t look at me like that fucking hell, “I’ll go. Stop looking at me like that.”

Y/N's face turned to confusion and she pouted at this, “Like what?”

Yoongi felt his face turn red at her look and he looked away from her, “I-I’m going to the bathroom.” 

Y/N watched him leave and she turned towards Alda, who was making her way back to the table, “Did I do something?”

Alda let out a small laugh as she sat down, “Nothing dear. Nothing at all.”

“Why are we on a farm?” 

Y/N hummed to herself as she opened Yunho’s gate. She turned towards Yoongi and put her index finger to her lips, “It’s a surprise. Don’t ruin my surprise for you.” 

Yoongi sighed and nodded his head, “Fine.” 

They walked deeper on the farm and Y/N stopped, “Yoongi, this is Daisy!” 

Yoongi glanced down at the cow and then back at her, “Daisy is a cow?”

Y/N  nodded her head and sat down to hug Daisy, “Isn’t she cute.” 

“I’m meeting a cow?”

“I thought I already established that. Don’t be rude and say hello.” 

“oh also something about a cow.” No fucking way was Lin’s mom right about this. Yoongi got down on his knees and the cow turned towards him. He felt her hot breath against his skin. He glanced at Y/N who was encouraging him to say his hello. He sighed and waved at the animal, “Hi Daisy, I’m Yoongi. Pleasure to meet you.” 

“You sound sarcastic.” 

Yoongi turned towards Y/N with an annoyed look, “I’m talking to a fucking cow. How else should I sound?” 

Y/N pouted at this and shook her head, “Be nicer to her. She has feelings too.” 

Yoongi ran his fingers through his hair, “Hi Daisy, my name is Yoongi.”

Y/N nodded her head with approval, “That’s better. Was that so hard?”

“Apparently...” 

“Y/N, you're here early.”

Y/N stood up and wiped off the hay off her knees. She turned around and waved at Yunho, “You're here late.”

Yunho scoffed at her and let out a small yawn, “Mom let me sleep in.”

“Oh? That’s rare for you.” 

“I know I was surprised when I woke up. It’s weird to be up with the sun and not when the sun is rising.” 

Y/N turned towards Yoongi who was getting cuddled by Daisy, “Yunho this is Alda’s grandson, Yoongi.” 

Yoongi stopped trying to push Daisy away and accepted his fate. He turned towards Yunho and nodded his head, “Hey.” 

Yunho raised his eyebrow and looked back at Y/N, “The rich boy?”

Y/N shook her head and sigh, “No, he’s Alda’s grandson.”

“He’s still a rich boy.”

“You will refer him to Alda’s grandson. Regardless of his fortune, he’s her family.” 

Yoongi felt warmth again but he shook it off. He let out a small cough and he glared at Yunho, “You do know I can hear you.”

Yunho smirked at him and put his hands in his pocket, “Mmm? I didn’t mean for that to happen. Sorry.”

Yoongi could tell by the look that he didn’t give a shit what Yoongi had to say. He didn’t want to add fuel to the fire so he played along, “It’s fine.”

Y/N could feel the tension building and she didn’t know why there was tension to begin with. She put her hand out towards Yoongi, “Let me introduce you to Helen.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at her hand and then his eyes moved to her face. Her face was always so warm to look at. It was as if she was the sun and it made everyone around warm. It made him sick to meet someone who was more positive than Hoseok. He didn’t think it was possible but here he was. On a farm. Min Yoongi on a damn farm, who would’ve thought.

Yoongi fought back, his eyes being rolled into the back of his head. This was the fourth time Y/N was going over his grandma’s nighttime routine. He put his hand up and Y/N glanced at it and then at him, “Yes?”

“Y/N, I can take care of it. Don’t worry.”

“I just want to make things easier for you.” 

“It’s getting late. Go home.”

She pouted and nodded her head, “You can call me, Alda has my phone number.”

His eye twitched at this but he nodded his head, “I got it.” 

Y/N waved at Alda and bowed, “Have a good night, Alda. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“I’ll see you dear. Be careful.”

“I will. No worries. Goodnight.” 

When the door closed, Alda sighed. She turned towards Yoongi with a frown, “Stop giving her a hard time.” 

“She thinks I can’t take care of you.”

Alda shook her head and rubbed his arm gently, “She doesn’t think that. Haven’t you been noticing that she’s been stepping back and letting you help me more?”

Yoongi thought to himself and looked towards his grandma, “Has she?”

Alda nodded her head and ran her fingers through his hair, “She knows how much I missed you. She wants to give me all the time in the world to be with you.” 

Yoongi glanced outside the window and saw Y/N talking to the neighbors. He smiled to himself, maybe he was being too hard on her. 

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･

It’s been two weeks and Yoongi has finally become used to Y/N. He accepted that she was going to be around because his grandma might as well be friendly. She was always so kind to him and it made him wonder why she was so kind. It brought up more questions. Questions that Yoongi wasn’t going to ask. There was no way he was getting this friendly with her. It was too soon.

“Yoongi, did you hear me?”

He shook his head and looked at Y/N, “What?”

She sighed and she pointed to her car, “I said get in. I have a surprise for you.” 

“Another one? Is it another chicken?” 

Y/N let out a laugh and shook her head, “No, I think you’ll like this one.”

“Do I have a choice?”

Y/N frowned at this, “You do...you don’t have to come with me. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to come with me.” 

There's that look. The look that made him feel so weak. It was like a kicked puppy, how could you say no? He shook his head at her and opened the car door, “You didn’t make me feel like that. Don’t worry. Let’s go before Alda wakes up from her nap.”

Y/N’s smile came back and nodded her head, “Okay.” 

The drive was peaceful. He didn’t even realize until last night that it’s been two weeks since he had a drink. He was so focused on his grandma and Y/N that he didn’t want a drink. He never felt that before, it was weird. He couldn’t explain it. He put his hand out of the window and felt the wind going through his fingers. He smiled to himself and he closed his eyes as he felt at peace. Y/N glanced at him and she couldn’t help but smile to herself at his peaceful look. 

Yoongi looked at the building with a confused look, “Is this the hall?”

Y/N shut off her engine and nodded her head, “The surprise is in there.” 

“Is it an election?” 

Y/N let out a laugh and shook her head, “Just come with me.” 

They walked through the empty halls but even if they were full, he knew everyone would say hi to Y/N. In the past two weeks, he learned that everyone loved Y/N. She helped everyone and it didn’t matter who they were, she would always help. She opened the door and she turned towards him, “I hope you like it. I tried my best.”

He raised his eyebrow and walked into the small auditorium. His eyes widened at the wooden piano that was polished to perfection. He turned towards Y/N who was shyly kicking her foot, “You-”

“I tried to fix it. I noticed that you’ve been tapping away with your pen and I thought you needed an outlet for music.”

“You fixed this for me?” 

Y/N nodded her head, “I know you're going to be here for a while, I thought I would make it easier for you.” 

Yoongi glanced at the piano and then back at her. He let out a small laugh, “You're full of surprises. Aren't you?” 

“Do you like it? I never restored a piano but-”

“Y/N, it’s perfect.” 

She smiled to herself and she looked away from his intense eyes. She couldn’t look into them because she would feel nervous. She couldn’t feel that way, “Will you play?” 

“Right now?”

She looked back at him and nodded his head, “If you want...I don’t want to force you.” 

He walked up to the piano and she watched with total focus. He glanced at her and the way her eyes were looking at him was making him want to throw up. It made him nervous to play even though he played it for his whole life. Right now at this moment, he was nervous. She walked towards the front and sat down at him. He looked away from her when he saw that permanent smile. He closed his eyes and instead of feeling alone in a room, he felt at home. He glanced at her mid-song and he saw how enchanted she looked. He wasn’t afraid to say it but at this moment, Y/N looked beautiful. 

“Welcome to the annual winter’s dinner!” 

Yoongi zipped up his jacket and watched everyone around act normal. He forgot how cold it got in the countryside. Hoseok finally texted him back last night and he was the whole lecture. Hoseok didn’t talk to him because he was disappointed in him. He honestly couldn’t blame him. Apparently all his friends are on strike towards him. They wanted him to learn his lesson but honestly not talking to them made him focus more on his grandma and someone else...

He felt someone poke at his back and he turned around to see Y/N looking at him with a smile, “You look bundled up.” 

“Of course I am. It’s cold.” 

She shrugged her shoulders at this, “I think it feels nice.”

“Of course you do. You're weird that’s why.” 

“I think being weird is good. Yunho saved us seats, Alda is already there.” 

Yoongi frowned at hearing that name. Yunho made it clear that he didn’t like Yoongi. Everytime he tried helping Y/N at the farm, Yunho would appear to do it. It was pissing Yoongi off because he wanted to help her...that’s the only reason he told himself. He also didn’t like how Yunho always gravitated towards her. It didn’t matter who was in the room, Yunho would always find himself next to her. He didn’t like that. 

Yunho went to pull out the chair for Y/N but Yoongi beat him to it. Yoongi sent him a smirk as Y/N sat in the chair. Alda smiled to herself as she watched her plan unfold right before her. Y/N pushed some hair back and she turned towards Yoongi with a small smile, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” 

The mayor smiled at everyone and he let out a small cough. He gathered everyone’s attention and he clapped his hands, “Thank you for making this dinner successful once again. I want to say thank you to our community for setting this up every year. Let’s celebrate the year's harvest with a feast.”

Y/N stood up and walked to the other side of the table to help Alda with her plate. Yoongi watched and glanced at her empty plate. It was like second nature to him to fill up her plate. Y/N looked up from Alda’s plate and saw Yoongi filling her plate. She felt warmth go through her body and she never felt so cared for. Sure her parents would’ve done the same but this was different. It was Yoongi caring for her and it made her feel something that she has never felt before. 

Yunho bought a whiskey bottle out of his jacket and poured some into his cup. He glanced at Yoongi and let out a small cough, “Do you want some?”

Yoongi looked at the bottle and shook his head, “No, I don’t want any.”

“Suit yourself.”

He glanced at YN and for once, he wanted to remember everything. He didn’t need whiskey to feel warmth because everytime he looked at Y/N, he felt that missing warmth. 

“What do you mean Helen got out?”

Y/N was at Alda’s helping her cook dinner as Yoongi set the table. There was a knock at the door and Y/N rushed to get it. She was surprised to see Yunho standing there in his thick jacket and sad eyes. She felt a wave of sadness after he told her Helen got out. 

Yunho sighed, “Don’t give me that look Y/N. I’m looking for her.” 

“How long has she been missing?”

“Thirty mins.” 

She turned towards Alda and then back at Yunho, “We have to find her.”

“I’m trying to find her but if I can’t then I can’t Y/N.”

“Don’t say that about her. We’ll find her.” 

Yoongi placed his hand on Y/N’s shoulder causing her to look up at him, “I’ll go look for her.” 

“But we need to help-”

“Y/N, dear, go help find Helen. I’ll be waiting for you guys here, okay.”

She glanced at Alda and then back at Yoongi. She gave him a shy smile and nodded her head, “Let’s go find Helen.” 

It was really cold outside on this day, it was so cold that Y/N put a jacket on. This made her more worried for Helen. Yoongi glanced at her face and was determined to find the hen. He hated seeing her Y/N being sad, she didn’t deserve to be sad and Yunho was making it sound like it wasn’t a big deal. If it made Y/N sad then it was a big deal. 

Yoongi continued to look but then he saw something in the distance. He didn’t know how Helen did it but she was stuck in a small hole in the ground. Yoongi moved fast and grabbed the Hen. Once Helen got situated in his arms he went to get out of the hole but he was having a hard time. 

“Yoongi, are you okay?”

“Y/N, I’m stuck. I have Helen but I need you to pull me.”

“Yoongi, you should’ve asked me to do it.”

“There was no time! Pull!”

She pulled his leg and used all her strength to get him out. She pulled him out but she lost her footing and landed next to him. She opened her eyes and turned towards Yoongi to let out a small laugh, “Yoongi, your face is covered in mud.” She wiped the mud off with her jacket and her eyes widened. It was the same brown eyes that she remembered when she was younger. The dark brown eyes with the sparkle were looking into hers. 

“Thanks, Helen feel’s cold.”

She quickly shook herself out of her daydream and nodded her head. She opened her jacket and Helen jumped right into it. She zipped it up and smiled at Yoongi, “You could’ve asked for help...”

“I wanted to act fast because I knew how devastated you would be if something bad happened to Helen.” 

Her heart started beating faster and she looked at the ground, “You could’ve gotten hurt, Yoongi.”

“If it makes you happy then I’m okay with that.” 

She looked up and saw the seriousness in his eyes, “Do you mean that?”

He smiled and nodded his head. He pushed some loose hair behind her ear and memorized her face, “Of course I do. I just want you to be happy.” 

Someday my prince will come...I think that’s today. 

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡

It was Yoongi’s last week and he didn’t want to go back home. Everything felt normal here, nothing forced. Just normal.  He also didn’t tell Y/N that he was leaving soon. He knew he had to tell her but today wasn’t the day. 

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and continued to sew his pants. Yoongi was helping her feed the chickens when he slipped on the wet grass. He didn’t hurt himself (just his ego) but he ripped his pants. Y/N gladly told him she would sew it for him. Which led them back to her house. Thank god he wore an extra set of pants or this would be more humiliating. 

“Yoongi, it wasn’t even that bad. Just a small tear.”

I tripped in front of you, that’s what makes this worse. “The chickens laughed at me.”

“Yoongi, their chickens, they can’t laugh. At least I don’t think so.” 

“I don’t know, I feel like Helen was laughing.”

Y/N let out a small laugh and she looked at Yoongi to see him looking at her. She shyly glanced down when she saw those brown eyes, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’ll disappear.”

Yoongi leaned towards her and she looked up at the sudden movement. The tip of his nose was touching hers and he gave her a smile, “I can’t look at you?”

She felt her face get warm and she shook her head, “You can look at me…” 

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No…I like it.”

Yoongi went to lean in closer but a knock at the door made him fly back, “Y/N Jiwon is back!”

Y/N eyes widen at this, “She’s back early.”

“And have horrible timing.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” 

Y/N got up and pulled Yoongi with her, “I don’t think you ever met Jiwon. She left as soon as you came.” 

“Oh, was she the one that went to Seoul?”

Y/N nodded and went downstairs as Yoongi followed, “She texted me last night but I thought she was coming back next week.” 

When they reached the kitchen, Yoongi felt frozen. He knew Jiwon, she was Jimin’s ex-girlfriend best friend. He met her a couple of times but not enough to say that he knew the girl. It was clear that she knew him because of the glare that she sent his way. Y/N waved at her and hugged her, “Jiwon, I missed you.”

“I missed you more. Who is this?” 

Yoongi glanced at Y/N and then back at Jiwon, he knew she knew who he was. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her the best fake family he could make, “I’m Min Yoongi. Alda is my grandmother.” 

Jiwon nodded her head and patted Y/N’s back, “Y/N, I want to get to know Yoongi. Is that okay?”

Y/N glanced between Jiwon and Yoongi with a confused look. She slowly nodded her head and looked at her who was in the kitchen, “I’ll go help mama with dinner.” 

Jiwon smiled at Y/N and once she was fully gone, she turned back to Yoongi. With a hard glare, “I didn’t think you would be Alda’s grandson.”

“Well...I am.”

Jiwon glanced at Y/N and then back at Yoongi, “What are you doing with her?”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets, “I don’t think that’s your business.” 

“It is my business when I know you told Jimin to break up with her. You don’t care about love so, why are you messing with Y/N.”

Yoongi scoffed at this, “I didn’t tell him to break up with her. I had nothing to do with that. If I’m being honest, I have no idea why they broke up. It wasn’t my business.” 

“I know it's a fact that you kept telling Jimin that love goes away. You do know they loved each other and you could be the reason why they broke up.”

“Listen, I told Jimin that after he broke up with her. He was drinking away and I was trying to make him feel better. That’s what friends do.”

Jiwon scoffed at this and crossed her arms over her chest, “Is that why you used a lot of girls when you went out with Jimin? Because apparently that’s what friends are for.” 

Yoongi ran his fingers through his hair out of frustration. He looked back at Jiwon with a hard stare, “What’s the point of this conversation?” 

“I want you to stay away from Y/N. She doesn’t deserve to get hurt by you.”

“I’m not listening to you.” 

“It doesn’t matter, you're leaving after this week.” 

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed at this, “How do you know all of this?” 

“It doesn’t matter how I know it-”

“No, how do you know?”

“Yunho told me everything.”

Yoongi ran his tongue against his cheek and took off. How the fuck does Yunho know so much about him? He slammed open the gate and made his way to Yunho unaware of Y/N running towards him with a worried look. Yoongi spotted Yunho feeding Daisy and he pushed him, “Why the fuck are you telling lies?” 

Yunho looked Yoongi up and down and scoffed, “Lies? It seems to be the truth.” 

“All that “factual” information was written by a gossiper on campus. None of that shit is true.”

“Oh so you visiting your grandma wasn’t because you're just a alcoholic and daddy wanted you to be taught a lesson.” 

Yoongi threw a punch and Yunho held his check, “Don’t you fucking call me that.” 

“You mess with girl’s hearts just because. You're not a man. Stay away from Y/N.”

“I don’t mess with girls' hearts, if anything I turn them down because I know they just want me for my money. That’s not messing with their hearts that's being truthful.” 

Yunho spit out some blood and glared at him, “You just want to fuck a country girl and tell your-”

Yoongi tackled Yunho to the ground and he started throwing punches at him. Who was he to talk about Y/N like she was nothing. Y/N wasn’t any girl, she deserved respect. He kept punching Yunho until he felt a hand on his back. He slowly turned his head and saw Y/N looking at him with a sad look, “Y-Y/N.” 

Yoongi got off of Yunho and grabbed Y/N’s hands. She looked away from his stare, “Jiwon told me-”

“Y/N it’s all lies.”

“I know some of it was lies...are you really leaving after this week? I thought you were staying for the season.”

Yoongi sighed and nodded his head, “My dad just wanted me here for the rest of the month.” 

“So...you're going to be gone. I won’t see you anymore?” 

“No, I'll come and visit. I’ll do anything to see you.” 

She glanced down at Yunho and shook her head at him, “Yunho, you deserved to get punched.” 

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to-”

“You should be saying sorry to Yoongi. You called him an alcoholic and even if he was, you shouldn’t bring people’s trouble in fights. If you have to do that then you already lost. Now say sorry to Yoongi.” 

“Sorry Yoongi.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and grabbed Y/N’s hand. He quickly made his way back to his grandmother’s house but instead of going in, he went through the garden. Y/N looked at his back with a confused look, “Where are we going?” 

“I used to go here with my grandpa...it’s a secret place.” 

They were by a cliff and Y/N eyes widened at the sight. It was so close to the night sky and she looked up at the stars. They sat on the grass and she stared up at the sky with a smile, “I made countless wishes to them...” 

Yoongi slowly turned his head towards her and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb, “What did you wish for?”

“For my prince charming...”

He glanced down at her lips and then back to her eyes, “Did you get your wish?”

“I did.” 

“You know I made wishes too.” 

“You did?” 

Yoongi pushed some hair behind her ears and nodded his head, “I wish to feel warmth in my life.” 

“Did you get your wish?”

Yoongi didn’t say anything and leaned forward giving her a quick kiss. When they pulled apart, Yoongi nodded his head, “I did...Y/N...my dad sent me here because I had a drinking problem back at home.” 

“What were you going through?” 

Yoongi trached her jawline with his fingers and frowned, “No one cared about me...well my friends cared about me but everyone else saw me for my money. No one saw me as Yoongi. I started drinking because it made me feel warm. I was so desperate to feel something that wasn’t loneliness-”

“So you turned to alcohol...alcohol doesn’t have feelings and won’t judge you. I understand.”

“Y/N, I never messed with girl’s hearts or used them. I would never hurt you.”

Y/N glanced down at his fingers and a soft smile appeared, “I know...that’s not part of your character.”

“If I’m being honest, I never had a relationship before. I never felt this feeling...this warmth in my stomach when I saw your smile for the first time made me scared. The day I met you is when the whole world came alive. I felt alive for once.” 

“I never had a relationship either...I was waiting for you.” 

The next morning, Yoongi rushed to Y/N’s house with roses in his hands. She opened the door and she raised her eyebrow, “Yoongi? It’s nine in the morning.” 

“That won’t stop me.”

Y/N glanced at the roses and she took them out of his hands. She brought them to her nose and looked up at him through the red petals, “How did you know?”

“Grandma told me. I would plant all the flowers in the world to make you smile.” 

Y/N felt her face get hot and she let out a small laugh, “Yoongi, you should come in. Mama is making breakfast.” 

This is how things were supposed to be. Life is full of laughter and warmth, no more questions that make you feel so small. Y/N grabbed his hand and brought him into the house. Y/N’s parents smiled at him and her dad was actually glad that Y/N picked Yoongi over Yunho. He sat at the dinner table and everything felt at peace. No more soul searching. 

“Yoongi, dear, do you have everything?” 

“Yes grandma.” 

Yoongi had a few more bags because his grandmother packed him kimchi to bring home. He couldn’t say no to the kimchi. Alda smiled at her grandson but then it quickly turned into a frown, “When will you visit me again?”

“Next month.”

Alda’s eyes widened at this, “Really?

Yoongi nodded his head, “I need more kimchi and you make the best kimchi in Korea.”

Alda let out a small laugh and shook her head, “You just want to see Y/N.” 

“Grandma.” 

There was a knock on the door and Yoongi opened it. His smile appeared and he couldn’t help it, Y/N was wearing that smile that he became accustomed to, “Yoongi, I have a final surprise for you.” 

“Oh?”

Y/N nodded her head and grabbed his hand, “Alda, we’ll be back!” 

“Be safe!” 

Y/N took Yoongi’s hand and he couldn’t help but laugh. They ran on the dirt path and everyone greeted them with a smile. Just a couple of weeks ago, no one smiled at him but now everyone knows him. It made him feel warm, “Close your eyes.” 

He nodded his head and did what he was told to do. Y/N guided him through grass and he was really confused at where he was. He stopped and she rubbed his knuckles, “Open.” He opened his eyes and saw his grandfather's grave. The grave was all cleaned and it looked like a new gravestone. There were flowers all around and it was actually a beautiful sight. He turned towards Y/N who was looking at the grave, “I didn’t want you to forget to say goodbye to your grandfather.” 

“Did you do this?”

“Yeah...I decorated it with his favorite flower-” 

“You knew my grandpa?” 

Y/N nodded her head and looked back at him, “You tripped in mud when I was helping him with his chickens back then...that was the first time I met you. I fell in love with you the moment I met you all those years ago. Your grandpa saw this and told me stories about you but he never told me your name. Your grandma talked about you but never said your name. I wasn’t sure when you came that you were the same boy back then but when I looked into your eyes...I knew. I saw the stars that I fell in love with...I guess your grandparents really wanted us to be together.” 

“Y/N can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes...you can kiss me.” 

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･

It’s been a couple of hours since he came back and he sat in his house alone. His parents had a meeting and they would have a big breakfast to celebrate him coming back home. It was the first time he was actually by himself and usually he would just drink to fill in the void. If anything, he just missed Y/N. There was a knock on the door and he raised his eyebrow. He glanced at the window to see it pouring rain. Who the hell is here?

He walked towards the door and his eyes widened, “Y/N?”

She soaking wet and she looked up at him with a dazed look, “You can’t just leave me without my answer.”

Yoongi let out a small laugh and shook his head, “You could’ve texted me-”

“I wanted to see your face...I would love to be with you, Yoongi.” Y/N jumped into him with her arms around his neck and her giving him a passionate kiss. His eyes widened at the touch but he welcomed it. He wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her closer into his body. Yoongi always took pride in his composure but at this moment, he didn’t give a fuck. 

He pulled her away and she was met with a shy and nervous Yoongi. His eyes told her what his heart wanted to say but his mouth just couldn’t move to tell her. He was so in love with her, it was crazy. Only knowing her for a couple of weeks but he was already on his knees for this woman. He would do anything for her. If she wanted the whole countryside to be filled with roses, he would do just that. Anything to keep that smile on her face. 

He took her inside and locked the door before taking her into his room. He made sure that door was locked and he turned back to her. His fingertips went down her arm as they stared into each other's eyes. She cupped his cheek softly and her thumb gently his pale skin. He leaned his head against her hand and she couldn’t help but feel warm, “Yoongi, I’m all yours.”

“Don’t say that or I can’t control myself.”

“I want you.” 

“God I love you...”

Her eyes widened at the confession, “You said it...”

“I’ll say it everyday, every minute of the day to you. I will always show you how devoted I am to you.” 

She giggled softly and tugged him closer, her lips brushing against his, “I’ll do the same.” Y/N whispered back as her hands slid up to his hair pulling him into another kiss. She melted into his arms and he couldn’t help but feel the same. It was the type of kiss that made you fall to your knees because of how intense it was. 

“You make me feel everything I was missing.” 

“Yoongi, I'll always be here for you. No matter what.” 

He didn’t even realize it but clothing was making its way to the ground. The rain against the window was the instruments that made the moment feel surreal. It was as if the rain was happy that he found his sunshine. His hands gripped at her waist a little tighter and lowered his head to her neck. He pressed a soft kiss along her neck until he hit her collarbone. He took a quick nip and looked up at her flushed face, “Y/N...”

His hands slid down to her sides and he couldn’t believe she was in his arms. He gently picked her up and laid her down into his bed. The only light he had was the light outside his window but it was enough to show him all the details of her body. The small mole on her knee and the stretch marks was the reason why people paint. It was beautiful. His kisses trailed down until his lips brushed against her sensitive nipples as his hand squeezed the other one. 

“Yo-Yoongi~.” 

He released her breast and made his way to her clit with his fingers touching her skin like he was playing the piano. She arched her back into him and he continued to kiss her neck. It wasn’t until she brought him back up to kiss her lips. He sat up and looked down at her, “Y-Y/N this is my first time. Are you sure you want this?”

“Yoongi, it’s my first time too. I wouldn’t want anyone else.” Yoongi leaned down and kissed her again. She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh against his lips, “You're the only person for me.”

“You’re my person too.” 

He finally pushed into her and he felt so nervous. What if he hurt her? His breath caught in his throat as he watched her eyes flutter closed. He bit his lip and gently touched her jawline, “Are you okay?” His hands found hers and they laced them together as if they were going to be ripped apart from something. She nodded her head and with the way she tighten around him, he couldn’t help but let out a small groan. 

“Yoongi, you can move. I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

She tightened her hand into his and nodded her head, “I trust you.” 

He lowered his forehead to hers and he gave her a quick kiss before thrusting. Each movement was like a song, a song that only they could hear. His hand tightened around her as his hips rolled slowly, making her moan at the feeling. Her free hand made its way to Yoongi’s hair and brought him into a passionate kiss. 

“You're everything to me, Y/N.”

She felt his body tremble and his hips stuttering. She looked up to see the wall behind his eyes, it was as if he was scared to give himself to her. Her heart knew why he felt like this and kissed the side of his face, “I’ll always be here for you, Yoongi.” 

His breath catches his through and he lets out a groan. His hips moved a little faster and he couldn’t help but be in awe of the pleasure on her face. His body pressed close against her and his forehead touched hers, “I’ll never let you go.”

“Then don’t.” 

They were so focused on each other that they didn’t even notice the stars twinkling away. They finally got their wishes.

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･

Yoongi sat at the lunch table as everyone around him talked about stuff. He pulled out his phone when he felt it vibrate in his pocket. He smiled at the lock screen, it was a picture of Y/N with Daisy. He clicked on the notification and his eyes widen, “Wow.” 

Hoseok leaned towards him to see a picture of a baby calf, “Daisy finally gave birth?” 

Yoongi nodded his head and smiled when he saw the name, “Y/N named her Byeol.” 

Bora smiled at this and took a bite of her lunch, “You're very smitten by her. When will we meet her?” 

“When she’s officially my girlfriend.” 

Namjoon raised his eyebrow at this, “I thought you asked her to be yours.” 

Yoongi put his phone back in his pocket and shrugged his shoulders,  “I did but I want to court her. I want her to know that I’m being serious about her.” 

Taehyung smirked at him and let out a small laugh, “Awww, Yoongi is being a simp.”

“Shut the fuck up before I shove my foot up your ass.” 

Lin pinched Taehyung’s thigh and smiled at Yoongi, “I guess my mom’s fortune was right.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and took a sip of water, “If that makes you sleep at night. I have to go.” 

It’s been two months since everything and Yoongi has never felt better. In all, it's been three months since he touched alcohol and been to a party. He doesn’t even go to Jimin’s parties anymore, he didn’t have a reason to be there anymore. After that night with Y/N, he promised her that he would court her before they became a couple and she agreed. Every week he would send flowers to her and they would talk every night. They weren’t together but they were together. 

He gathered his things and headed out of the lunch court. He was as if he was running towards something. He ignored all the eyes on him and made it to his destination. He opened the theater door and saw Y/N sitting on stage with her triangle. She looked up with a smile and hit her triangle, “I told you I would bring it.”

He let out a small laugh and shook his head. He walked up towards her until he was between her legs. She let out a small laugh and she wrapped her arms around his neck, “Are you going to show me how good you are at the triangle?” 

“Don’t make fun of me.” 

He kissed her cheek and traced her jawline with his fingers, “It’s my job to make fun of you.”

“Did you see Byeol? Sorry I sent it this morning and I was on the road.”

“I did...Byeol?” 

Y/N nodded her head, “The stars brought you to me...it was the perfect name.”

“I love the name, Byeol. You're my favorite star though.” 

“Don’t let Byeol hear that.” 

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･

Taglist:

@jalexad @lemonadecandy51

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

Okay. I gotta talk about it.

Warning for major spoilers for season 2 of Hazbin Hotel and discussion of leaks—I will NOT be posting any links to the leaks or posting pics/screenshots from them here. Just going to be talking about a particular character.

Okay, last chance if you don’t want to know anything about the spoilers/leaks!!!

Im serious!!! Last warning!!!!!

Lute is now unironically the most compelling character in the entire fucking show and I am not kidding.

Whoever wrote the little bit of her character that’s been leaked did a really good job. She is incredibly interesting to me now because we get to see her when her entire way of life and ideology is challenged.

Lute is a very flawed and cruel person, but she has always been extremely sure of herself and that she is unambiguously CORRECT in her way of life. And now she’s being faced with the fact that she and everything she lived for is WRONG and they just CANT accept it. So much so that it appears that she’s now hallucinating Adam to cope.

Lute cannot accept redemption is possible and her viewpoint is SO black and white that it’s likely going to end up killing her or at the very least will drive her to madness. She would rather burn the whole world than accept change. There’s a tragic element as well that comes with every character that lives in the extremes—she fully believes she’s in the right. So much so that she can’t understand why EVERYONE else in Heaven seems to be horrified by the exterminations. She thinks she is doing the best thing for everyone, and is now resisting the reality that is front of her.

What would be really amazing, and what I’m hoping for is that Adam really did fall and became a “Demon” in Hell. Because then she would have to deal with the person she looks up to and admires the MOST becoming what she’s sworn to annihilate. I don’t know if she could handle that.

The question of whether or not she could reconcile Adam, someone she saw as being heavenly and perfect, could fall and become what she hates the most, a demon, is really interesting. She’d be forced again to question her ideals and beliefs about what is right and wrong. That is the sort of deep character exploration I had been hoping to see from season 1 of Hazbin and didn’t really get.

This small glimpse into her character reminds me of other characters that are so lawful or black and white that they can’t accept change or realities that conflict with their worldviews. Rorschach from Watchmen and Javert from Les Miserables come to mind.

It would be really cool to show her in direct contrast to V (not calling her that sexist ass name at least I can pretend “Lute” is named after the fucking instrument) and have Lute be the foil to V’s continuing character arc from season 1.

Please please please don’t let this characters complexity be reduced to “evil bad villain is bad and evil” for the rest of the story please please please. (Gotta say tho, given Hazbin and Helluva’a track record with writing women villains….and tbh just. Women in general. I am going to be VERY VERY cautiously optimistic)

(Also I don’t care if her song is cringe I think it fucking SLAPS)

[hxney-lemcn]

Affections + First Kiss — General! Scarecrow, Riddler, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Catwoman x gn! reader

summery: affection and first kiss headcanons.

tw: mentions of abuse (physical and verbal), mentions of toxic dynamics

a/n: I've never wrote headcanons for multiple characters in one thing before, so enjoy! I love them all.

wc: 2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Scarecrow

❥Jonathan wasn’t used to a kind touch. Being bullied growing up, being beaten by the bat. No, all he knew was the harsh touch of a fist. The relentless shoves. The purpling of bruises that always showed after. The red blood that would drip from his nose. The burning hatred that steadily grew towards those who wronged him.

❥So when you came into his life, he would flinch if you raised a hand. He would unconsciously back away. The warmth in his heart that you stirred was unusual to him, a feeling he’s never felt towards anyone. He was used to the bitterness after an interaction, not longing. 

❥You eased him into it. Only when you two started dating did he ever think twice about your touch. He knew you held back your affections. He watched you lift a hand up, only to bring it back down to your side. And to Jon, that meant the world. He felt relief when you didn’t push him into uncomfortable territory, and he respected you all the more for it.

❥Although a part of him wished you would hold him. Touch him. He wondered if your skin felt as soft as it looked. Though he also feared that your touch would sting, and the comfort you brought would be no more. No, he would never reach out first.

❥Starting out slow, he let you hold his shoulder. No matter how careful you’ve been for however long, you slipped slightly. It was a gesture not many think twice about. Holding onto someone's shoulder as you look over them, holding onto them for balance. It was only when you felt him tense under you, his ramblings pausing, that you realized your mistake. Yet, Jon had only reassured you that you did nothing wrong. 

❥Having realized that Jon seemed to open your touch, you continued. Lightly brushing your hands, shoulder touches, even just sitting closer. It was like you were single handedly rewiring Jon’s brain, teaching him that not all touch hurts. That he too deserves a kind hand. The flinching had dulled, and he would even look forward to you being near him. 

❥So when you finally got to kiss him? He was a dead man. You got him hook line and sinker. I hope you weren’t expecting to leave him any time soon, because after you opened him into a world of warm affection, he doesn’t want to let go. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Riddler

❥Touch is a big no no. Similar to Jonathan, Edward had been bullied from a young age. Teased and ridiculed, shoved and hit. If not from his peers, then from his own father. His world was cruel for as long as he could remember. In fact, his brain started to warp, perceiving the hits as a form of love, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

❥Edward Nygma is a touch starved man. He longs for the comforts others seem to get so seamlessly. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t want anyone touching him. Tap his shoulder if you dare.

❥You were no different, at first. You quickly caught on to his distaste of touch when he reprimanded someone for getting a little too friendly with him. But you managed to weasel your way into his estranged heart. With how respectful and kind you were, he quickly found himself ensnared with your affection. Even hands free you managed to boost his ego and make him feel, should he dare say, loved for. You gave him praise that he had longed for, which earned you a seat right by his side.

❥It was also partly to keep a closer eye on you. Part of him preened at your praise, and another was weary. Why were you so kind? He was a well known criminal, he knew better than to just believe you were doing it out of the kindness of your heart. Y’know the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

❥I honestly don’t know how you deal with it. He always tries to catch you off guard with a riddle or puzzle. He pushes you away by ridiculing you and belittling you. Yet you won’t stop. You keep spilling his praises, and it’s so baffling to him. Yes, he is the smartest man in the world, but you managed to become a riddle. Good luck now.

❥When you first touched him, it was an innocent hug. He had managed to pull off a heist and got away from Batman without a scratch! Of course he had no doubts about his success, you didn’t either. When he got back to the hideout, you were clapping while singing his praises. Edward felt on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his veins. When your arms wrapped around him, your scent clouding his thoughts, your warmth leaching into him, he found himself reciprocating.

❥Now, whether your dating or you’re just friends, it matters little to the green clad man. You had given him a taste of a touch he’s always longed for. And he realized that he’s more comfortable around you than he’d like to admit. He never reaches out first, but he’ll never turn you down if you want to hold his arm. 

❥His teasing towards you turns lighter, just as his heart feels. So when you finally seal the deal with a kiss, he’ll make sure you never slip through his fingers. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Harley Quinn

❥She will smother you with affection right out the bat. Hugs, hand holding, kisses, you name it. You don’t even have to date her for her to leave a smooch on your lips. Harley Quinn easily trusts people, and you’re no exception. She finds comfort in touch, so why should she deny herself it? She also finds it expresses her genuine affection for you in ways she couldn’t verbalize. 

❥If you don’t like PDA, please tell her right away. She doesn’t understand it, I mean why wouldn’t you want to show your love to the world? But she also doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if you wanna keep it behind closed doors, she’ll try her best. But don’t be too surprised if she sneaks in a little smooch or hug if no one’s looking.

❥Harley Quinn is one of the most affectionate rogues out there. But it’s not always sunshine and rainbows with her. She had been in a seriously abusive relationship, and you have to help her remember that she doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around you. That no matter the argument, you won’t raise your hand to strike her. It takes her a long time to come out of that headspace, if ever. It’s a good thing you’re by her side to help coax her into healthier practices. 

❥If we want to get a little darker, Harley may try to treat you like the Joker treated her. It’s scary to see her go from bubbly to dark. Her features twisted into a wicked sneer as she asks that you’ll never leave her. That no matter what, you’ll always love her. During these moments, you gotta stand up for yourself. She’s trying to gain a sense of control she never felt in her previous relationship, and you have to make her snap out of it. When she comes to and realizes what she just did, the look of utter terror in her eyes is the most heart wrenching thing. She’ll sob, pleading that she didn’t mean to, that she never wanted you to go through that, that she’s terrified of becoming him.

❥Please hug her, kiss her, squeeze her gently. She loves it. All Harley wants is to be loved and to love, and getting affection shows her how genuine you are and is the biggest comfort for her. Feeling your warmth, feeling the softness of your skin, it brings her peace. 

❥The first time you made the first move to kiss Harley, she nearly did a backflip. Her little sugar plum made the first move! I hope you didn’t have anything planned, because Harley won’t let you go for the rest of the day.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Poison Ivy

❥I’m not sure how you weren’t just killed or turned into one of her goons. She’s not one for humanity. She keeps a sharp eye on those who dare tread into her territory. There’s no way to beat around it. She drugs you, finding out what your true intentions are. It has to be something she deems worthy enough to keep you around. She barely puts up with Harley as it is. 

❥Once you gain your free will again, you have to continuously prove your loyalty. Of course she can guarantee it herself if she has to, but you’ve managed to catch her eye. So prove your worth to her, prove that her interest in you isn’t just a mistake. It will take a long time. She’s been wronged one too many times, and she won’t make that mistake again.

❥Even if you manage to gain her trust, she won’t drop her walls around you. Though she’s a bit nicer. Ivy knows that a person works better with praise, but she also means it deep down. She doesn’t say what she doesn’t mean, so don’t take her words for granted. Not that you really can when her perfume scent always seems to cloud your senses. 

❥You let Ivy make the first move when it comes to touch. For a seductress, she won’t touch you if she doesn’t have to. Not to mention the toxins that fill her blood. Who knew if one tap on her shoulder meant your certain doom…but maybe that was a bit of the thrill you loved when being by her side. Though you’ve seemed to find a small soft spot in her heart, right next to Harley Quinn. She wouldn’t tell you that though, best to leave you on your toes lest you get too comfortable. 

❥After going so long without a single touch from the green goddess, when she started playing with your hair, you found yourself seizing up. Ivy brushed her fingers through it so gently, yet all you could wonder is if it was finally over. If she grew bored of you, or if she started to find you bothersome. But her gentle reassurances lulled you. Her warm voice and gentle hands relaxed you. It was then that you realized her affections for you ran deeper than she led on.

❥You’re first kiss was electrifying. That underlying thrill that your life was held in her hands. That she killed men with the very action she committed tenderly with you. Yet deep down you knew she wouldn’t hurt you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Catwoman 

❥It's not easy catching her attention. She won’t settle for less than perfection. She is catwoman after all, she has a reputation to uphold. So when she looked at you, and I mean really looked at you, she decided why not have a little fun? Whether you’re a villain, anti-hero, vigilante, or civilian, she’ll take time out of her busy schedule to drop by.

❥She likes to give mixed signals. It keeps you far enough for her to feel in control, yet it also satiates her hunger. She’ll lean in real close, only to grab something from behind you type of beat. She loves to watch you become a stuttering mess, but she doesn’t mind if you banter back. It’s all a part of the fun.

❥No matter how close you seem to get, you’re somehow still a mile away from Selina. She slips away from your affection without you even realizing it. She always turns the moment into a suggestive one. If she left it tender, then it would be too real. It takes time for her to warm up to you and really trust you.

❥If anything, the first kiss happens before anything truly tender. The kiss catches you both off guard, neither sure who started it. Selina tries to wrap it into something that doesn’t make her heart stutter. Tries to turn it suggestively like she always does, but with the way you tenderly hold her cheeks, she feels herself melt. Finally, she succumbs to these feelings you managed to stir within her, and she isn’t sure if she wants to thank you or curse you out. Maybe she’ll settle for a dinner, tab on you of course.

[horror-beeings-artandwriting]

hihihiiii could i request hcs for v1 and gabriel (separate) with a reader whos a wandering spirit in hell? take ur time!

Omg yes! Im gonna write it so it can be read as platonic or romantic, since you didn’t specify!!

Prompt: Headcanons

Characters: Gabriel and V1 (separate)

Pronouns: He/Him for Gabriel, He/it for V1 and they/them for reader!

Note: I headcanons v1 to be nonverbal like the other robots in hell. Just making noises similar to v2!

Gabriel:

When Gabriel first sees your soul wandering limbo. He is…rather confused. Your soul glows bright with purity. You aren’t a mindless husk that’s for sure…so why are you here…

He spends weeks watching you slowly wandering. You looked so scared. Confused…it made the angels heart ache.

He’d make sure to keep the husks out of your way. He tried to guide you, to the gluttony layer, to meet him. The judge of hell, but you always kept wandering the wrong way. Kept going to deep.

Until one day he had enough and just. Grabbed you. Scaring you half to well. You were already dead so. Scaring you to double death!

He calmed you down, said he was an angel, the judge of hell, that he wished to help your pour soul ascend to the heavens…(he didn’t even know if that was well, posible but eh)

I mean like obviously you’re a semi pure soul you were in limbo! The father’s light…can make mistakes right?

You made this man question his whole existence for a few hours

But that’s okay! You’re a sweetheart!

Just as long as you stay close to him and don’t get near any robots you should be fine!!

Right…? Yeah. Yeah. Probably.

V1:

He was…really confused, why didn’t bullets work on you , why didn’t you bleed. So it did the next best thing. And tried to grab you.

When you definitely saw him and moved out of the way, it let out a whirring almost whine like soul and stomped its foot.

You walked up to him, and it grabbed you again, poking and squeezing your face and arms. You were solid…and then. Well it started dragging you.

You are now his friendly neighborhood spirit, since you can float he would totally use you as a like. Ballon.

He keeps you close, and out of danger and even if it looses its precious P rank, he’ll stop and let you look around each layer.

Bring him husks (IE get their attention and have them follow you) he’ll be super happy! Or at least…you think the manic laughter like sound coming from him is happy….

Ehh….best not question.

He tries to give you blood, but ends up giving up when it keeps phasing through and ending up on the floor.

He has thrown you at things before. And always apologizes by, bringing you to whatever layer you wanna, I mean most of them are dead now sooo what’s the harm.

I hope you liked it! I kinda wrote V1 as how I play him. A stupid idiot who doesn’t know what he’s doing!

Also I love Gabriel ultrakill sm omgggg 😍

[watchfuldeer]

last night i went to a really fun and informal fundraiser evening with jesse and lucy at westminster school, where they were interviewing each other. i got to ask a question which i’ve mused upon for some time about tom, shiv and greg. enjoy! full transcript under cut

Transcript

me: so i’m gonna have to look at what i wrote down.

jesse: that’s alright, you’re highly in credit since you know more about the show than us. more about john berryman.

(laughter)

lucy: tell us what we’ve done wrong so far!

me: god, no. i wouldn’t! so my question, this is a character based question, and one thing that probably got a bit subsumed in the fourth season just because everything was happening. but i’d like to know more about tom and shiv, and also greg. because my read on the situation between the three of them is that greg is a source of marital strife (laughter) that shiv never noticed, and what would it have taken for shiv to notice the depth of greg’s presence in their marriage.

jesse: uh huh.

me: and tom’s attachment to him.

jesse: uh huh. sometimes you get little bits in life or you see something and you’re like, i wish we were making the show, because i suddenly do want to hear shiv say ‘greg you’re a source of marital strife’.

(laughter)

jesse: that’s like, when you’re like, that’s gonna be in, we’re not gonna cut that.

lucy: absolutely.

jesse: (doing greg voice) wh-wh-what?!

(laughter)

lucy: yeah. well we enjoyed that, didn’t we. we had a scene in america decides, which was the only scene between shiv and greg.

jesse: oh yeah.

lucy: the election episode in the final season where she takes him into a little room and threatens him.

me: ah, but it’s jealousy over lukas, over the greg and lukas thing, and it’s like, have you forgotten your husband, who is also very attached to this limpet?

lucy: yeah. i would also say that there are marriages in which a third party is not an unuseful thing, as well. not in a forgiving way about infidelity, but i would say that there are things that tom can express with and at and on greg (laughter) as it were, to greg, that are useful because he’s both a - you know the great, the interesting thing about tom is that he’s both a courtier and a bully. he’s that rare combination of someone who you totally believe as being almost like (mimes bowing and doffing cap) ‘oh yes sorry thank you yes ma’am’ and also like, ‘i’m gonna kill you’ and that juxtaposition is what makes him so interesting.

but in his marriage to shiv he has no real way, until quite late i guess in the final season, where we explore it, to hold power over her and to use that part of himself. so he’s accepted the acquiescing, he’s accepted the role of courtier in that marriage, and greg is quite a useful place where he gets to express all of that, the bully in him so that maybe it doesn’t have to come out in the marriage. which might be bad, because perhaps it should do and then the marriage would’ve ended much earlier, yknow, when shiv would just be like ‘i’m not dealing with you challenging me in any way’. so it’s not until that balcony scene i think where he really challengers her much at all. possibly the beach scene, where he sort of says that he’s considered leaving her, and how that would feel. but with aggressive challenge? it’s all directed at greg, and greg is allowed to be the place where all those feelings go.

me: but the affection - there’s also affection between them.

jesse: YEAH. and i think that’s the other thing maybe you’re alluding to is like, she… i think, some things you know you’re putting in the show because you talk about them and other things just naturally occur, and audiences and people tell you what the show is and what you put in there and you didn’t even realise, but i think we were aware of this - she’s oblivious. her obliviousness is a big part of her wealth and her upbringing and… so there’s something homoerotic going on between greg and tom.

me: i mean it’s not for me to say.

(laughter)

jesse: and does she… i think there’s two ways of reading that, either she’s oblivious, and that’s intriguing and possible. the other is that she sort of - there’s a scene in, you know that one, in the sun valley media conference in argestes, where we wrote a bit where shiv shows up unexpected and tom’s sort of flirting with someone, and it never really landed that much. i think we were like, oh this really gonna, shiv’s gonna spark up when she sees him flirting with someone. and it’s one of those things where you were like, you know what? i don’t think she gives a hoot, really, does she.

(laughter)

jesse: it’s like, she hasn’t got that, that’s not in her belly, that fear of loss.

lucy: no.

jesse: so i think that goes, that probably goes for a same-sex relationship or flirtation as much as it does for with a woman.

lucy: i think that’s true.

jesse: like she really… even if he was like - and this is not the way that tom would be like - ‘i think i’d like to sleep with greg’, i think she’d be like (mimes looking at watch) ‘when?’.

(laughter)

jesse: (as shiv) ‘not when i’m in the city, that’s weird, tom’.

(laughter)

jesse: i don’t think she’d have any fundamental objection to that.

lucy: that’s true. i think jealousy is quite a low status emotion.

jesse: yes.

lucy: and i think that she would struggle to feel it.

(jesse laughs)

lucy: even if it was present in some way, she would never be able to access it because it would put her too much at a disadvantage. so i think yeah exactly that, it would be like, ‘oh i guess you’re going to fuck that boring woman now are you, tom’ or do that, like… she has to be here (mimes one hand above another hand) so jealousy can’t really be accessed by her. so she might be irritated by greg, but in the way you would be by a mosquito.

me: to her detriment.

lucy: to her detriment, sure, ultimately yeah.

[genshinluvr]

Final Moments

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You're somewhere alone, bleeding, and on the verge of death. Everyone is scrambling to reach out to you, but you're not picking up your phone, and no one knows where you are. Not even Nanook knows your whereabouts. You didn't think you could die in a universe you didn't belong to, but you were wrong. At least you were able to hear their voices in your final moments, right?

Note: I haven't written angst in so long. This is probably not the best angst I've written. This is an answer to an ask I received not long ago. I'm not sure how I feel about this mini-fic, but I think something sad happening for once is somewhat good for a fanfic one-shot series. To be really honest, it doesn't feel like angst to me. Idk if it's because I wrote it or if it's because it's not sad enough. Who knows. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Major character death, blood, probably my worst angst

Word Count: 3.9k

Your connection with Nanook has been severed. Whenever you sleep, you and Nanook communicate while you’re asleep. When you’re unconscious due to being knocked out by a flying prosthetic arm, Nanook is there— while you’re physically unconscious. You and Nanook have always been connected through body and mind since your arrival to their— Nanook, your Astral Express, Stellaron Hunter, Xianzhou Luofu, and Jarilo-VI companions— universe. However, this is the first time you realize you and Nanook are no longer connected to each other.

In the state of unconsciousness, you’re in the void. Only this void is different from the one where Nanook is covering the sun and sky. This abyss you’re in is pitch black, and you’re the only living being in the endless darkness. There’s no sky, no sun, no stars to light a path along the way in the void. At first, you’re uncertain whether you’re physically in this void or if you’re just unconscious.

That is until you hear ringing in your ears, and light starts flooding in. You gasp aloud as if you finally made it to the surface after being underwater for more than you can handle. Your lungs hurt, and so does your head. As a matter of fact, now that you have regained consciousness, your entire body aches, and you’re tired. So tired. Your eyelids threaten to shut, but you’re trying your best not to lose consciousness again.

Where are you? 

What happened?

You push yourself upward and slump against the wall, choking out a gasp and breathing heavily. Your heart hurts— you didn’t think it was possible for you to feel your heart hurting to the point where you want to cry. Your vision is blurry, and you try to rub your eyes, but you can’t feel your arms. Exhaustion soon overtakes your body, and you fall unconscious.

Meanwhile, on the Astral Express, everyone is crowding around on the Parlor Car, their phones facing upward on the table. Everyone has been trying to call you, only for them to get a voicemail, or the call would fail to go through. The monotonous beep haunts their minds as everyone frantically tries to reach out to you.

“Are you sure the signal is good? Maybe we can’t call them because of the awful signal on the Astral Express,” Caelus comments, chewing on his nails.

March ignores Caelus’ comment. She presses her phone against her ears, listening to the ringing. If the signal was terrible, then how come the phone call was going through for her? The ringing stopped briefly, making March gasp, startling everyone on the Astral Express.

“Hi, this is [Y/N]! Sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now—”

March groans, ending the call. “Never mind. I thought they answered my call, but I was wrong,” March sighs in defeat, sliding her phone on the table.

The lights on the Astral Express flicker, and the door slams open. Nanook steps into the Parlor Car, his gold eyes scanning the Parlor Car, searching for your face. Nanook sighs and stays close to the entrance, running his hands through his hair. Just as Nanook feared: you’re not on the Astral Express either. 

Welt furrows his eyebrows at the Aeon of Destruction. “Nanook. Your presence is sudden,” says Welt.

“Where is [Y/N]? Are they not on the Astral Express?” Nanook asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Unfortunately, they’re not on the Astral Express. We,” Jing Yuan gestures to him, Blade, Luocha, Luka, Sampo, and Gepard, “were contacted by the Astral Express in hopes that [Y/N] is on the Xianzhou Luofu or Jarilo-VI. To everyone’s disappointment, they are nowhere to be found.”

After hearing Jing Yuan’s explanation, Nanook starts to visibly panic. The Aeon of Destruction paces back and forth, taking deep breaths and muttering something under his breath. Everyone on the Astral Express gazes at Nanook worriedly. This is the first time they see him act this way. Nanook has always had this cool, calm, and collected exterior. Nothing can phase him, and only you can get a reaction out of him.

Sampo raises a finger. “Hold up. Why are you asking us where [Y/N] is? Aren’t you the one who can communicate with [Y/N] inside their dreams?” Sampo asks, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows at the Aeon.

“Nanook, have you been able to contact them by any chance? We’ve been hitting countless dead ends, and we’re really worried about them,” Gepard says, looking at Nanook pleadingly.

Nanook sighs and stops pacing. He looks at the people on the Astral Express with a deep frown. While Sampo is correct about him being able to communicate with you through your dreams, the people on the Astral Express, Xianzhou Luofu, and Jarilo-VI aren’t the only ones whose struggling to get into contact with you.

Nanook wasn’t able to contact you through your dreams prior to your disappearance. When Nanook brought you into this universe, Nanook made sure to form this connection with you— this unbreakable bond between you and him. But despite creating this unbreakable bond, it somehow severed, and he can no longer contact you through your dreams and unconscious state.

This bond is supposed to be a way for him to track you anywhere in this universe. No matter how out of reach you are from him. Whether you’re in the Astral Express, on Jarilo-VI, the Xianzhou Luofu, the void, etc., Nanook should be able to feel your presence somewhere throughout the universe. Nanook mutters something, closing his eyes and pulling at the roots of his hair with frustration.

“What’s Nanook saying?” Himeko whispers, not taking her eyes off the anguish Aeon.

Luka whispers, “He’s muttering something about [Y/N] and the bond between them. I can’t hear what Nanook is saying, but those are the things I can pick out.”

Dan Heng stares at his phone intently, staring at your contact picture while listening to the monotonous ring. This is the fourth attempt. The fourth time he’s tried to call you, only for there to be a voicemail or just constant beeping that’s shaking him to his core. You can be anywhere in the universe, and finding your precise location without you telling them where you’re at will be the most challenging thing they deal with.

“Are they still not answering their phone, Dan Heng?” Luocha asks, approaching the black-haired man.

Dan Heng sighs, ending the call when he hears your voicemail through the speakers. “No,” Dan Heng mutters, shaking his head.

Blade stares at the panicking Nanook, frowning deeply. Blade sighs, rubbing his temples with shaky hands. As much as Blade wishes he was mishearing the things Nanook was muttering to himself, the more Blade thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Nanook is the one that brought you into this universe— he should know your exact location no matter what planet and fleet you’re on. Nanook should be able to communicate with you through your dreams or unconscious state, and because Nanook is visibly panicking and stressing out over your whereabouts, Blade concludes that—

“Your connection with [Y/N] has been severed, isn’t it?” Blade asks, breaking the tense silence in the Astral Express and bringing Nanook out of his thoughts.

Nanook clenches his jaws, nodding. “It has been severed, unfortunately. I do not know how it happened, and I’m sure [Y/N] isn’t the one that severed it. There’s no way for them to sever the connection,” Nanook replies.

Everyone stares at Nanook in horror. If Nanook is unable to contact you, then it’s very unlikely they’ll be able to find you sooner. You, [Y/N]. The same person not from their universe, the same precious star everyone holds dear to their hearts— whether as a best friend, little sibling, or a small crush that developed into something bigger— the same star that shines the brightest in the universe. You’re somewhere out there in the universe, exposed to dangers you’re not used to handling. Heck, everyone didn’t plan on letting you be exposed to any hazards that exist in this universe, but now?

“So, you’re saying there’s no way for any of us to contact [Y/N]?” Welt asks, raising his eyebrows at Nanook.

While Welt looks calm on the outside, the man is freaking out internally. How did this happen in the first place? You were supposed to be safe and sound under his watch, but you suddenly disappeared without a trace, and no one was able to reach out to you or track you down. Not even the Aeon of Destruction is able to track you down, and the Aeon has connections with you— well, had a connection with you.

“What are we going to do now, Mr. Yang? Searching for [Y/N] seems impossible at this point,” Caelus says, plopping down on the chair and running his hands through his hair.

Jing Yuan shakes his head. “I’ll have Yanqing lead the Cloud Knights to search throughout the Xianzhou Luofu,” Jing Yuan says, taking his phone from the table and sending rapid texts to his blond retainer.

Gepard nods. “And I will have the Silvermane Guards patrol the Overworld and the Underworld. If they see [Y/N], their duty is to detain [Y/N] until we arrive to get them,” says Gepard as he grabs his phone to message Dunn.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Detain [Y/N]? As in, keep them in cuffs and behind bars?!” Sampo exclaims, propping his hands on his hips, and looks at Gepard with disbelief.

Gepard, Welt, Nanook, and Dan Heng sigh simultaneously, rubbing their temples and pinching the bridge of their noses after hearing Sampo’s question. March snorts, rolling her eyes. The door to the Parlor Car opens. Pom-Pom waddles into the room, his eyes scanning the Parlor Car for a familiar face other than the ones that are present. 

Pom-Pom sighs with disappointment. “I see that none of you have found [Y/N],” Pom-Pom says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Himeko gives Pom-Pom a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Pom-Pom, but we still haven’t found them. They’re not answering our texts or phone calls, and not even Nanook can contact them,” Himeko replies.

Pom-Pom sighs and waddles to the Phonograph, pressing his forehead against the machine. A dark stormy cloud looms over Pom-Pom’s head as he lets out a string of whimpers and sniffles. Everyone on the Astral Express nearly forgot about how close you and Pom-Pom are. The closeness between you two is adorable, and Pom-Pom treats you like his favorite passenger on the Astral Express. Well, you are his favorite passenger. There’s no denying it. Sometimes, when everyone is asleep, you would keep Pom-Pom company and spoil him with his favorite snacks.

Of course, that was before Nanook became a passenger on the Express. Now you would keep Pom-Pom company on the nights you can’t sleep or when Nanook isn’t on the Astral Express due to his duty as the Aeon of Destruction.

“Pom-Pom?” March asks softly.

Pom-Pom turns to face them, his eyes blurred with tears. “How could all of you fail to protect someone that protected me!?” Pom-Pom wails, tears cascading down his cheeks. “What if we never see them again? They could be in danger!”

Everyone looks away, their shoulders slumping. Pom-Pom’s right. They did fail to protect you— this is the second time they failed to protect you, and they wish they could turn back time and prevent it from happening.

“There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll find [Y/N] and bring [Y/N] back to the Astral Express, alright?” Luka says, kneeling in front of Pom-Pom and patting the conductor’s head.

Pom-Pom whimpers. “But what if they’re injured?” Pom-Pom whispers.

“Then I will do everything in my power to heal them,” Luocha answers.

You’re rudely awoken by the sharp pain in your lower abdomen. You gasp and sit up, letting out a strained gasp and whimper. You look down at your body, now realizing the state you’re in. You don’t remember what exactly happened, but the more you look at your surroundings, the more you start piecing things together. You were attacked by the Mara-struck. It happened so fast that you weren’t able to comprehend what happened before it was too late.

And now you’re here, on Cloudford, bleeding out, going in and out of consciousness, with no cell signal to call or text your traveling companions. You can’t even contact Nanook due to the severed connection between you and the Aeon of Destruction. No matter how many times you lose consciousness, Nanook isn’t there— even if you scream his name, bloody murder. You will always be in the void, alone and searching for the Aeon that brought you into his universe.

You sprawl out on the ground, digging your phone from your pockets. Your vision blurs every few minutes, making it hard for you to do your task. You turn your phone on, attempting to call the first person on your contact list. Blade.

You tried to call Blade, but the call didn’t go through. You tried calling every person on your contact list, but the call continues not to go through. You push yourself off the ground, nearly slipping on the pool of blood beneath you. It’s a miracle that you manage to hold on for so long. The question is: how much longer can you hold on? Black dots dotting your vision, you’re extremely tired, your eyelids are threatening to close, and your legs and arms are tingling.

“I can do this, I can do this,” you chanted, limping as far away as you can. “I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

You’re not sure if giving yourself a false sense of hope is going to do any better. Still, it’s better to do that than lay in your puddle of blood, watching the time tick away and your life slipping from your fingers. With each step you take, you feel your strength slipping away. You’re exhausted, and everything hurts. The Mara-struck did not go easy on you until they assumed you were dead. 

As much as you wanted to blame yourself for not being careful enough, there’s no one else to blame. Not even yourself. People will blame you for not being careful and watching your surroundings, but is it really your fault? The Mara-struck are ruthless, and they’ll attack anyone and anything that is alive and not Mara-struck like them.

You’re brought out of your thoughts and self-pity when your foot gets caught over the other, sending you to the ground with a loud thump. You let out a screech of pain and remain on the ground as every part of your body is stinging and throbbing with pain. The small cuts on your body reopen as fresh blood oozes from the wounds, spilling to the ground.

“Please, just end my misery,” you whisper, tears rolling down your bloodstained cheeks as you slowly drift in and out of consciousness.

The faint sound of buzzing coming from your phone wakes you up. You gingerly turn your head to see the screen of your phone lighting up and vibrating. You reach for your phone and roll over on your side to see Blade calling you. You swipe to the green button and hear a faint scream and frantic voices coming from the other end of the call.

“Blade?” You croak, wincing when you feel how dry your throat feels.

Blade sighs in relief on the other side of the call. “Thank the Aeons, you’re okay. Where are you? Are you safe?” Blade asks.

You chuckle bitterly, close your eyes and continue to lie on the ground. At least you’ll be able to hear their voices one last time, right? It’s better to listen to their voice before…. Someone calls your name, grabbing your attention.

“Huh? Sorry, I didn’t catch onto what you were saying,” you mumble, squeezing your eyes shut and fighting back a whimper that’s crawling up your throat.

“[Y/N], please tell us where you are. We’re very worried about you,” Dan Heng says.

You sniffle. The pain is beginning to feel unbearable. Everything hurts so much, and you want someone or something to end your pain and suffering already. You shouldn’t have played dead when the Mara-struck attacked you for who knows how long. You should’ve let them end you right then and there so you wouldn’t have to continue to suffer like how you are right now.

“[Y/N]? Are you still with us?” Caelus asks, his voice crackling through the speakers.

Fuck. Is the connection starting to act up?

“Yeah, yeah. I’m still here,” you reply, black dots dotting your vision. Is it normal to see a small burst of stars in your eyes each time you blink? “Sorry, I’m not feeling well right now.”

The other end of the call falls silent after hearing your response. As of now, Jing Yuan and Gepard haven’t received any reports from the Silvermane Guards and Cloud Knights about finding you. 

The General of the Xianzhou Luofu and the Captain of the Silvermane Gaurds text their trusted companions regarding the search, only for Dunn and Yanqing to reply that they have yet to find out despite the number of Cloud Knights and Silvermane Guards scrambling to find you. 

Mr. Yang walks over to Blade and takes the phone from his hands. “Sweetheart, can you look at your surroundings and tell us where you are? Even if you don’t know the precise location, do you know whether you’re on the Xianzhou Luofu or Jarilo-VI?” Mr. Yang asks.

“I’m on, uh, the Xianzhou Luofu. The Mara-struck…” you trail off, closing your eyes. Your hands are shaking— you don’t think you can hold your phone up any longer. Your arms feel awfully weak, and your phone feels heavy.

Jing Yuan’s voice crackles over the speakers. “What happened with the Mara-struck?”

Jing Yuan sounds frantic.

You shrug, completely forgetting that the others can’t see you. “They attacked me out of nowhere. They left me for dead, and there’s blood. So much blood,” you whisper, cracking your eyes open and looking at your surrounding.

“[Y/N], can you turn on the video call so we can see where you are?” Gepard asks, his voice crackling in the speakers.

You sigh, gritting your teeth as you turn on the video call. Your face appears on the screen— if you weren’t bleeding out and losing consciousness every few minutes, you would be gasping in horror at the sight of your reflection. Dear Aeons, you look horrendous. You blindly show your surroundings for the men to see where you’re at, but you don’t think you’re doing it correctly. Your arm soon grew tired, and your arms collapsed beside you.

“I’m really sleepy, guys,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. You nearly gagged when you tasted a mouthful of blood. You don’t know how much more you can hold on until they find you.

“Does anyone recognize that area? We’re not from the Xianzhou Luofu— nothing looks familiar for us,” Sampo mutters, gazing at the others worriedly.

Luocha steps forward and takes Blade’s phone from Mr. Yang’s grasp. “I know this is going to be complicated for you, but do not fall asleep, alright? Keep your eyes open and try to stop the bleeding. We’ll be right there soon,” Luocha instructs.

The men hear and see nothing coming from Blade’s phone. The camera is pointed to the sky of  the Xianzhou Luofu— they see the color of your hair peeking in the corner. You rub your eyes and press your hands against the deep gash on your abdomen. You lift your head to see various cuts on your body. All are bleeding.

You whisper, “Which ones do I cover? There’s too many,” you mumble, gazing at the gashes with bleary eyes. 

You let your head fall back on the ground, attempting to cover up as many as you can. How much longer are you going to hold on? You can hear a commotion coming through Blade’s phone as you lie on the ground, your phone lying beside your head. You didn’t think you could die in a universe you didn’t belong to.

“Stay on the phone with us, alright? We’ll be there soon, we promise,” you hear Blade say through the phone.

You can’t tell if Blade is panicking or not. He sounds so far away, no matter how close your phone is to your ears. How could this have happened anyway? It was all your fault, wasn’t it? Were you reckless like last time? No, no. Last time, the Astral Express was under attack. But this time, you left the Astral Express and ended up getting attacked by the Mara-struck. And now look at you, bleeding out on the Xianzhou Luofu while trying to stay conscious.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” You whisper, staring at the clear blue sky above you.

Luka grunts. “We’re not mad at you, [Y/N]. We’re very worried about you,” Luka replies.

Luka is trying his best to remain calm, but his heart is racing against his chest to the point he fears it might burst. 

You close your eyes, feeling nausea hitting you. “Is Nanook mad at me?” you ask weakly.

Dan Heng looks at Nanook from the corner of his eyes as they run through Cloudford, searching for you. It’s just them racing against the clock to get to where you are— racing against the clock to save you. But will they make it on time before you lose consciousness?

Dan Heng shakes his head. “I’m sure he’s not mad at you, [Y/N]. Why do you think that?”

You crack a smile. “I… Nanook and I aren’t connected with each other anymore. Did I do something wrong for him to sever that tie between us?” You whisper, tears blurring your vision. “If I did something to upset him, please let him know that I’m sorry for whatever it is that I have done to upset him.”

Nanook snatches the phone and gazes into the camera, his gold eyes searching for your face. “I’m not mad at you, little one. However, if you lose consciousness, I will be upset with you,” Nanook states.

You laugh weakly, tears rolling down the side of your face. “I’m sorry, everyone. I’m sorry for not being strong enough,” you whisper.

Just when you lose consciousness, you feel someone cradle you in their arms. Your vision slowly turns black as the voices around you fade away— almost sounding like you’re underwater, sinking deeper into the depths.

“No, no, no, no! Please don’t leave me,” Nanook whispers, pressing you against his chest.

Your head lolls back, laying limp in his arms as blood continues to pour out of your wounds. Luocha kneels before you and Nanook, frantically trying to heal the cuts and deep gashes on your body. Sampo, March, and Himeko look nauseous at the sight of the pool of blood below you and Nanook.

March looked away, closing her eyes as a stray tear made its way down her cheeks. “Please tell me [Y/N]’s going to be okay, please,” March pleads.

Nanook presses his index and middle finger against the side of your neck, frantically searching for a pulse. Nanook buries his face into your neck, his body wracking with sobs as he holds onto you tighter. You can’t be gone. Please, please, please, please. Luocha’s hands fall to his side, and he looks away. 

“Well?” Dan Heng demands, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Luocha shakes his head, tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. Luocha grabs your cold hand and presses a kiss on your knuckles. Maybe in another lifetime, you will meet them again. But for now, stars don’t live on forever.

Note: Just because this is angst with death doesn't mean it impacts the overall HSR isekai series. This is a mini-fic, and to make it up to all of you, I will make a Nanook smut for this upcoming week! Yes, smut is finally here! Nanook got the majority of votes. Therefore Nanook is the first HSR male character to be getting smut! As I have stated in my Genshin Isekai fics, the fics in the series are like my multi-verse. Anything can happen in these fics, but it will not significantly impact the overall series. So, even if something traumatic happened to the reader in one fic, the next fic, it never happened to the reader. Some things will impact the story, but others won't be mentioned in other fics. For those who want to be on the taglist, here is the [Google Form]. For those who want to join the Discord server but weren't able to, here is the new temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]! Please make sure to read the server rules— you can lurk, chat and hang out on the server if you'd like! If you don't vibe with the server, you can leave whenever you want ^^ To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for the HSR one-shot series: @mompt2, @elegantnightblaze, @lunavixia, @jadedist, @reversearrowhead, @pinksaiyans, @aurelia-xyt, @lilliansstuff, @ssunset0, @starrry-angel, @kaoyamamegami, @kodzuvk, @for3very0urs, @a-cosmicdawn, @g3n0dtt, @theblades, @raaawwwr, @immahuman, @irisxiel, @siaracarroll, @crazydreamcat, @sagekun, @orichalcumthief, @dyingsweetmackerel, @rosiesareblue, @ichikanu, @hispasian-otaku, @asoulsreverie (Accounts that I was unable to tag are not tagged in this fic. Those who do not want to be tagged in a specific fic are not tagged. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[pochipop]

＃ALICE IN BORDERLAND !! ♡ — THERE'S NO HELL IN WHAT I'VE FOUND (CHISHIYA X READER).

#. synopsis! — chishiya has fallen in way too goddamn deep .

#. characters! — chishiya .

#. warnings! — brief mentions of canon-typical gore, slight angst .

#. word count! — 1.2k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — i have not finished season 2 yet, but i wrote this all in one sitting after seeing the first two episodes + falling for this silly man all over again lolol. i might branch out + write more for this fandom (but i will never write for niragi, so just a heads up on that!)

It really did just have to come to this, didn’t it?

Chishiya is a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. He knows that when it comes to surviving in a place like this, there are times when you have to sacrifice others and be willing to carry that burden for the rest of your life. There is no easy way out. Either you die and go on to whatever happens next, —if anything happens at all— or you push others to the wayside in lieu of saving yourself, preserving your own survival, and you live to see the monster you inevitably become. 

And call him crazy, but Chishiya was okay with becoming a monster if it meant he could save himself. Hell, he’d done so much of the work from the shadows that it would hardly be fair to let him of all people meet his tragic end here.

But you just couldn’t help yourself. You had to crawl under his skin, —make him care about you, make him fall so hard that he was left to question whose survival mattered more. When it came down to the wire. . .

He’d have chosen you.

That’s the scariest realization of all, he muses. These games, all the gunfire, all the explosions, all the fatal electric shocks. . . They paled in comparison to the realization that his biggest fear wasn’t his own demise anymore. It was yours.

As the game comes to a close and those of you left standing slowly reacclimate to the best state of normalcy one can muster up given the circumstances, he hates that his first instinct is to slip away, knowing you’ll find him soon enough. He may have been foolish enough to catch feelings, but he wasn’t so dumb that he’d show such a weakness around anyone else. Though he’s sure the likes of Kuina or Arisu have long since caught on, —he won’t be the one to confirm a damn thing, and he expects that you’ll keep your mouth shut about it as well. It’ll be a worse liability than it already is if word gets out to the wrong people.

Chishiya slips away before anyone has the chance to acknowledge his presence, leaving his absence unaccounted for by everyone but you. Of course, you noticed him sneaking away, parting from the group like a snake in the grass. . . You’ve always been a little too perceptive for your own good.

Fatigue claws at you like a famished predator, weighing your body down a great deal. You smell of sweat and the blood of the young girl next to you who hadn’t been quite so lucky. Still, you will your body forward and follow in Chishiya’s footsteps after lingering for just long enough to throw suspicion off your trail. While you certainly aren’t a master of manipulation, —you are clever in a way that even someone like Chishiya has to respect. You know how to take care of yourself, even in a twisted world like this.

He wishes knowing that gave him any kind of peace, but he’s afraid he’s reached the point of no return. It’s not that he doesn’t believe you can survive just about any of these games on your own. . . It’s that even if he does, the worry lingers just because it’s you. 

Fuck. 

He really can’t believe he’s done this to himself. It’s so untimely, so completely and utterly ridiculous, —so much so that he convinces himself his mind is just playing tricks on him sometimes until you fall into place at his side again and all such thoughts are forced out the window from his vice-like grip. 

“Ugh,” you grumble, arm tucked below your chest as you cradle your own torso, “there you are.”

Chishiya offers you little more than a sidelong glance before returning his stoic gaze to the skyline. The sun sets as you bring yourself closer to him, keeping a comfortable distance. It ends up just like this far too often, and Chishiya frowns at the thought of closing the barely-there gap, brushing his shoulder against yours. Maybe later in the night when the lethargy really starts to hit him and his inhibitions lower ever so slightly, he’ll let himself fall apart just enough to hold you for whatever time of fleeting hours remains. That way, he can blame it on the fatigue, on the cold, on the temptation of sleeping next to a warm body.

It’s not because it’s you, it’s just because you’re there.

And maybe if that were the case, Chishiya wouldn’t be quite this frustrated.

“Surprised it took you so long to find me,” he says finally, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “You’ve been getting slower about it.” 

“Oh, well excuse me for not rushing after you like a lion on a gazelle,” you answer sarcastically. “Not like my lungs almost gave out down there or anything.” 

He doesn’t say it, —but he’d trade his breath for yours if it meant you could reach him faster. 

“That one wasn’t so bad,” he shrugs. “We’ve both been through worse.”

His worst is just beginning, it seems. You close the gap yourself, resting part of your weight against him, and he feels his heart flip itself into a tailspin. For the first time in so long, Chishiya isn’t sure where to go from here. He’s trapped inside these feelings and they’re inching closer to swallowing him whole by the second. They run so deep he might as well be drowning in them.

“Easy for us to say, I guess,” you mumble. “We’re alive. Most people who end up here aren’t that lucky.”

“True enough,” he acknowledges softly, making no move to push you away.

He never does. 

You stand in silence with him for a while, watching as the sky turns dark and the bright colors of the setting sun are swallowed up by a deep, velvety navy. There’re no stars to be seen, nothing for you to wish on. . . It’s a little childish, but any sliver of normalcy you can manage here, you’ll take with open arms. That’s why you let your feelings for Chishiya blossom freely, refusing to stifle your heart’s desires for the sake of some stupid game of life and death.

If I die right now, I’d rather do it with you than be alone. 

Chishiya wishes you’d never said those words to him, —not because he doesn’t reciprocate, but because they resonated much too wholly for comfort. If he can help it, he won’t be going out in a place like this. But more than that, he can’t imagine letting your flame be snuffed out without a ravenous fight.

Silence reigns once again. It’s a characteristic feature of your gentler moments with Chishiya that are few and far between, but when they happen, you like to think you cherish them the best way you know how. Beyond that, you also like to think Chishiya finds even the slightest sliver of peace with you. 

He doesn’t confirm or deny anything of the sort, but you wager that’s a flimsy yes at the very least when the tension in his shoulders melds away and his head rests gently against your own.

You can’t make any promises about tomorrow, —but for now, things are okay. And if that’s the best you’ll get here, then so be it.

[flashyfools]

months ago, while mindlessly scrolling through twitter, i came across an analysis of this particular panel from chapter 434 (i can’t remember who wrote the thread, i’m so sorry </3), and i really want to talk about it too.

(EDIT: original author of the thread is @goingbuggy!!! go check out their metas, they're amazing)

the thread was focusing on the way the speech bubble covers shanks's scar completely, and how it can be seen as a sign of vulnerability. oda is using shanks’s own words to hide his suffering, letting his physical scars be representative of his emotional ones, even though the event he’s talking about is completely unrelated to the way he got his scar.

in fact, we know shanks is not ashamed of the scar, since just a couple of pages after this one he mentions it directly as a way to start the conversation about blackbeard:

he doesn’t have a problem with the marking itself, it’s just used as a narrative device, a tool to highlight (in an extradiegetic way) his emotional wounds and the pain he always tries so hard to hide, in an effort to keep his usual composure.

the original author of the thread compared the panel from chapter 434 to another, way older one, from the very first chapter:

this takes place right after shanks loses his left arm to save luffy’s life. it’s obviously a very emotionally charged moment, which means the best thing to do would be showing a close-up of shanks’s reaction to everything that’s unfolding in front of him at that moment (luffy’s cries, or even his own reaction to his sacrifice). oda, however, chooses not to do that; instead, he hides half of shanks’s face, just like he did in chapter 434. the way the moment is portrayed tells the reader shanks is willing to hide his pain in an even deeper way than what he’s showing by smiling at luffy right after getting his arm chopped off.

it’s a great way to explain an important characteristic without stating it right away. it's a focal point of shanks's character: it's his way of showing luffy he cares about him and would much rather hide his suffering than pass it onto him, but it's also oda's way of conveying that shanks is much more vulnerable than what he allows himself to show.

having said that, the reason oda chose to bring back this framing in chapter 434 appears obvious: shanks misses buggy.

it’s plain to see, especially if we look at the whole page.

shanks tries so hard to act collected when talking about buggy, but it’s obvious that he’s hurting. his wording makes it clear he’s trying to detach from him (“that’s the end of it” + “rumors have it”); he acts like buggy doesn’t exist in his thoughts anymore, when it’s obvious he still does. he feels remorse, he regrets letting buggy go. he’s scared he might have been in the wrong. he knows he hurt buggy, but he desperately wishes he didn’t.

all of this weighs on him in a way he isn’t used to, so he locks these feelings up, thinking of them only in relation to something that happened in the past, and as so, stays in the past. he smiles while talking about him and buggy, but it’s a remorseful smile. he cuts the conversation short even though he vividly remembers what happened between them, and as he does so, his words hide the scar. he desperately tries to patch things up in his mind by exclusively clinging onto the good memories they share, but the remorse always creeps up on him. he always smiles when talking about buggy, even when he’s talking directly to him. but his smile always ends up looking sour.

this is exactly why i hate it when people say shanks doesn’t care about buggy. oda wouldn’t have given these panels so much depth if he didn’t want to show just how much shanks actually cares. even just the fact the panel we are focusing on directly mirrors a panel from the first chapter, one so important and impactful, should tell you everything you need to know.

buggy will always be shanks’s weakness. caring so much about someone when you’re a pirate of that caliber is difficult in itself, even more so when that someone is so far away from you now.

[fuctacles]

Eddie, begrudgingly: Dustin's older brother is kinda fine :/

I had a craving for best friend's older brother AU so I wrote some but it's not my forte I'm out of ideas so that might be it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Edit: jokes on me I guess [Part II] [Part III]

Eddie was about to knock on his freshman friend’s door when there was a loud commotion on the other side and the door opened by itself. A guy, probably around his age, nearly ran into him in his haste to leave the house. He startled, taking Eddie in. And then taking a double take, the way Eddie was used to people doing at the sight of him.

“Who are you?” the guy asked, scrunching his nose and not meeting Eddie’s eyes.

He felt his hackles rise, venom building in his throat and ready to spit. He wasn’t expecting this on a Saturday on his friend’s doorstep, but he guessed this was the kind of town where you just couldn’t wear your battle vest in peace anywhere. His upper lip twitched ready to form a snarl, when suddenly the guy's features softened, a spark of recognition lighting up his eyes.

“Wait. Let me guess. Eddie?”

Eddie faltered, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. He frowned.

“Yeah?”

The guy's face warmed up with a smile, and Eddie was not ready for that kind of emotional rollercoaster this early in the morning.

“Dustin’s stories do not do you justice,” he says for some reason, eyeing him again. Eddie wants to shrivel up and hide. What the fuck was happening. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” he said, stepping to the side to invite him in. “I have to go to work, so you two be good, okay?” he says before waving a cheery goodbye and closing the door, disappearing just as abruptly as he showed up in front of Eddie. The inside of the house suddenly seemed dull.

Another ray of sunshine peeked from the kitchen, toothy grin and hazelnut curls.

“So you’ve met Steve!” Dustin grinned in place of a greeting.

Eddie gawked at him.

“That,” he pointed at the closed door. The sound of a car leaving the curb tickled his ears. “Was Steve?!”

“The adopted brother Steve? The Star Wars fan Steve? The badass older brother Steve?”

“Yes, all that,” Dustin nodded enthusiastically.

“I thought he was, like, 16!” Eddie flailed and it sounded like a petulant whine even to his ears. He winced.

Dustin frowned at him like he was being stupid. Eddie didn’t like that gaze, but unfortunately at this point, he was getting used to it. His younger friend leaned on the kitchen door frame watching Eddie toe off his shoes.

“He’s 19. What gave you that impression?”

Eddie frowned at his scuffed Reeboks. He nudged them with his toe to line up, looking for an answer.

“The adopted part, I think? He’s almost an adult, who adopts that old?”

He knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as he said it. He looked up at Dustin, whose face twisted uncomfortably.

“Shit, sorry man. I didn’t mean-”

Dusting clicked his tongue impatiently, interrupting him.

“It’s fine. This is an unconventional arrangement,” he said in that way when you heard something repeatedly. “I can tell you more, but after we make that character sheet, okay?”

Eddie nodded, eager to abandon his social faux pas. The Henderson’s were an unconventional unit, and that’s what he loved about them, at least from the stories Dustin shared. The guy was a little freak, just like Eddie, so it checked out his family was just as unconventional. So was Eddie’s after all.

The parallels made him warm up inside, the familiar need to protect his younger friends flaring up.

“Deal,” he nodded, following his friend inside the kitchen, where notebooks and DnD manuals already littered the table.

A couple of hours, two coffees and an unsolved argument about the intricacies of multiclassing later, they decided to take a break and Eddie could finally feast his eyes on the family photos on display. He stood in front of the newest one standing front and centre on the mantle. Steve was smiling shyly to the camera while Claudia Henderson had her arms around his shoulders and Dustin was grinning wide from his other side, hair ruffled by the older boy's hand.

“How long he has been living here?”

Dustin’s head popped out of the kitchen where he was rummaging for snacks.

“About a year. Remember the Starcourt fire?”

“Yeah?” Eddie frowned, taken aback by the seemingly unrelated question.

“Well, he’s been there and-” the boy frowned, fully stepping into the living room and crossing his arms. “Shit, Mom says I shouldn’t be babbling it around. That it’s Steve's story to tell.”

Eddie hummed, cocking his head.

“Your mom is very smart.”

Dustin unwrapped his arms, clenching his hands together.

“I guess I could tell you I mean who are you gonna tell? You just-”

Eddie raised both his hands, stopping him.

“Dude, he interrupted with all the disapproval his drug dealing nonconformist self could muster. “She’s right and that would be breaking your brother’s trust.”

“Uh. Yeah,” Dustin gulped, looking adequately ashamed at proposing the idea. “You’re right., he nodded.

This lasted about half a second because nobody could stop Henderson from being an egocentric know-it-all and since he was wrong he was now going to overcompensate for it. Of that, Eddie could be sure.

“We can go to his workplace and you could ask him!”

Eddie raised his hands again.

“Hold your horses Henderson, we’re not harassing your brother at work.” The boy was actually pouting, the little shit. “I am not that determined to hear it. I’ll just catch him another time I visit.”

That was the wrong thing to say because he wasn’t planning on being a recurring guest initially. Or maybe it was the right thing to say since Dustin positively beamed at the implication.

Maybe it was because the kid’s presence has been a good influence on him as well.

Also, while the story of Steve’s adoption didn’t seem that interesting before, the idea of a mall fire being somehow involved raised questions that were now itching the back of Eddie’s tongue. He had to ask them at some point.

*

“There’s this guy,” Eddie starts one day during lunch break. 

“Oh-ho,” Gareth murmurs with disdain, the crumbs from his sandwich falling from his lips.

“Not like that,” Eddie glowered at him, slapping against his arm. Even though it was kinda like that. “He’s picking up Henderson after Hellfire today and if we run into him, I want you guys to be civil.”

“We’re always civil,” Jeff frowns at Eddie’s backhanded accusations.

“Yeah, especially when you guys are mooning after Mrs. Wheeler.”

The comment raised a wave of loud protests from his friends.

“I am just saying-”

“You’re just saying that guy is hot and we shouldn’t ogle him?” Gareth, the worst friend he has, raised his eyebrow.

“No, I’m just-”

“You calling dibs, Munson?” John the Traitor, the Backstabber, joined in. Johned in, if you will.

‘No!” Eddie protested, maybe a little too loud. A couple of heads turned but when they saw the ruckus was coming from the freaks table, they quickly lost interest. “He’s the worst. A hunk of jock with stupid hair but!” He rose a finger. “He’s Henderson’s family. And what do we do with family members in Hellfire?”

“Lure in.”

“Lull into a fake sense of security.”

“Cast charm person.”

“Exactly,” he smirked, pointing his finger at each of them in approval. “This case is no different.”

“It feels different,” Gareth murmured under his breath, earning himself another smack on the shoulder.

*

Eddie wrapped up the session and was giving out experience points to his players when a soft knock interrupted his counting. He frowned at the door.

“Speak ‘friend’ and enter!” he hollered to his sheep’s utter glee. He grinned at them.

Dead silence was all the response he got, so he assumed whatever normie was bugging them got discouraged. But then, Henderson was turning around in his seat, yelling at the door.

“It’s from Lord of the Rings! You know this one!”

There was a shuffle on the other side where apparently, Steve came already to pick up his brother.

“Oh! Um… Melon? Was that it?”

“You may enter!” Eddie commanded with a grin straining at his cheeks. Dustin was doing a good job educating his jock brother, apparently. 

The guy pushed the door open, taking in the table full of teenagers. He waved hesitantly.

“You guys finishing up?”

“I’m handing out points, we need just a few minutes,” Eddie waved his hand. “And it’s Mellon.”

Steve frowned.

“That’s what I said.”

“Sure you did,” Eddie cocked his head condescendingly, ignoring the eyes of Corroded Coffin members staring at him. “Now sit and wait,” he gratuitously offered, snapping his fingers and pointing at a nearby bench, like Henderson’s older brother was some kind of dog.

To his surprise, he nodded shortly and obeyed, sitting down and watching him expectantly. Eddie took it as his cue to proceed. He coughed to gather his sheep's attention and went back to his meticulous calculations.

*

“That didn’t look like Charm Person to me,” Gareth hissed as soon as the younger members of Hellfire had left.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows, throwing him a look while he stuffed his campaign notes into his bag.

“You told us to be nice, but you ordered him around like he was one of the kids,” Jeff pointed out, arms crossing.

“I did not”

“You totally did.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he straightened up.

“What is this? Mutiny? Among my own kin? Ungrateful little herd I had nurtured on my own breast-”

He was interrupted by a cacophony of grossed out noises.

“Spare us the imagery, please.”

Eddie huffed indignantly, closing his bag.

“Then quit yapping. It was a singular lapse of judgement on my part,” he said with finality, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Without looking back, he walked off, hand raised in a goodbye, “Toodles, bitches.”

And he was gone.

Gareth sighed.

“Man, I love Eddie, but sometimes…” John cut himself off, shaking his head. 

“Yeah.”

*

Eddie’s been on the fence about it for some time now. But the time was ticking and he did say more than once that ‘86 was gonna be his year, so maybe it was time to pocket his ego and make some calls.

Some very, very humiliating calls.

Sighing deeply he imagined himself going to the woods and digging up a deep hole. There he imaginary buried his pride, made a fancy map to find it later, hopefully in time for his graduation, and finally dragged himself back home and in front of his phone. Next to it, he tacked on a list of numbers of all his newest sheepies in case of emergencies. Like Hellfire scheduling.

He sighed once more, slumping dramatically before dialling the first of the numbers. As he listened to the dial tone, he squared his shoulders, decided a more confident pose was in order. He was now a man of action, taking his fate in his own hands. His pride was buried deeply in the darkest corners of the forest and only a courageous-

“Har- Henderson residence, this is Steve speaking.”

Eddie’s mind went blank, completely thrown off. Who was he calling again? What for?

“Hello?”

“Is this how you pick up the phone? Did I get the wrong house? Is this the British Queen?”

“... Eddie? Is that you?”

Busted.

“What gave me away?”

“Ah, only the dramatic nonsensical ramblings.” Steve answered, amusement in his voice. 

“Thank you, I pride myself in those.” No pride! Pride is buried deep in the putrid soil of a forgotten battlefield! “But I’m here for the superior Henderson, please and thank you.” Ah yes, the Charm Person again. Somebody could think Eddie buried his Charisma along with the pride.

“Sorry, Claudia is at work right now.”

Eddie scrunched his nose, confused, the gleeful tilt to the voice in his ear irking him. Then he remembered the mom. A staple in most households.

“Har, har, Steven. The smart one.”

“Please never call him that to his face,” the man said with a resigned sigh.

“There wouldn’t be enough space in the room for both our egos if I did.”

Steve laughed then, softly and genuinely, before calling out for his younger brother.

After a loud rattle, Dustin’s lispy voice finally reached Eddie’s trailer.

“What's up?”  

The man braced himself for what he was about to request.

“I need your help with an assignment.”

*

The door opened before he could even knock. Again.

“I thought I told you not to inflate his ego.”

“No, you told me not to call him smart. It is merely a by-product of my desperate attempts at graduating,” Eddie shrugged matter-of-factly. “Besides, I don’t respond to the likes of you.” He punctuated his words by seizing the guy up before brushing past him inside the Henderson’s house.

“The likes of- Excuse me?!”

Eddie was skipping towards Dustin’s room.

“Hey big guy I’m here for my tutoring!” he announced himself, standing in the open door to his friend’s room, who quickly beckons him inside. Steve’s heavy steps follow and soon he’s the one standing in the door frame, arms crossed, while Eddie bounces on Dustin’s bed.

“What do you mean the likes of me?” he asks, almost pouting. 

“Mainstream,” offered Dustin, shuffling through stuff on his desk.

“Jocks,” added Eddie, still bouncing with glee, hair following up and down.

“Normies.”

“Pop listeners.”

“Mom friends.”

“Conformists.”

“Okay, I get it!” Steve threw his hands in the air, stopping the list that probably wouldn’t come to an end otherwise. “You’re the cool guys, have fun having your cool stuff,” he huffed angrily, grabbing the doorknob. Before he closed the door he threw one seething glance at Dustin. “Do not. Ask me for snacks,” he hissed before slamming the door shut.

Eddie flipped back on the bed, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Man, your brother is so easy to rile up,” he chuckled gleefully.

“Right?! He’s so bitchy,” Dusting turned around towards him, signature smile in place. Eddie hollered.

“He is!”

Alas, a slap of palms interrupted his delightful trashing around.

“I believe we have some physics to cover?”

Eddie groaned. Right. He didn’t come here to bother the older Henderson. Booo.

[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]