#sorry. i can’t be normal abt him.
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going through every emotion on earth
#pokemon#kieran#trainer kieran#rival kieran#pokemon kieran#pokemon scarlet violet#pokemon sv#teal mask#art#fanart#I’ve been playing violet!!!! going through every emotion. on earth.#GOD HES SUCH A FREAK. ABNORMAL. GET HELP.#twirling hair he’s like me fr! (get out of my head.)#I hate him I love him i need him dead I adore him more than my life I want him to explode I wish him the best in everything#sorry. i can’t be normal abt him.
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Loneliest man in the universe.
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The diffriders are so fucking fascinating to me specifically flare trooper dumjid bc like. You take a dragon mercenary who has seen war and has actively watched many comrades die. His whole thing is that he’s a perfect guard and thus the only one who survived, leading to a fucked up conception of himself as above death. And then you have him possess the body of some kid who presumably agrees to let him see earth bc That’s His Favorite Card And He Thinks He’s Cool and who’s probably like 12 (sorry saori I have no clue how old you are I’m just guessing based off taiyou + hiroki) and just. Walk around on earth (where are saori’s parents btw. Like you could say this about most vanguard characters but where are saori’s parents/guardians/friends do they know what “saori” is up to?? Does anyone who knew him pre-diffride realize how different he’s been acting?). Play a card game where he commands his dead comrades bc shiranui is paying him (which. How is he paying him, earth currency or cray currency? And what IS cray currency for that matter?). The only thing he likes about earth is the music but he is specifically cursed to keep having his headphones break. When a unit who’s diffriding a human dies in the human’s body, both the unit and the human die on both planets, and besides the money dumjid is only on shiranui’s team bc antero/miguel DIED, a fact which he’s fully aware of and iirc derides him for (may be wrong abt that one though). He constantly tells people to die when he’s cardfighting them. He is laid-back about vanguard and doesn’t care much until he loses a cardfight and because loss and death are inextricably linked in his mind he proceeds to get Super Fucked Up About It bc he’s built his entire self image off being The One Who Survives and losing the cardfight is akin to confirming that it’s possible for him to die & he especially can’t accept that Some Random Humans have the ability to take him out. Sometimes he shows his opponents the battlefield and the bodies of his comrades and they really don’t seem to devote much thought to it (like. What??? I get that chrono & friends love vanguard and chrono does address it a little bit but mostly iirc just to say “I don’t think that’s what vanguard actually does/that’s not OUR vanguard”). He’s affected worse and worse with each loss and joins a group trying to end the world to get revenge on the humans who’ve beaten him (iirc unclear whether he knows the success of the destruction of the earth will destroy him too). He becomes the last of the original diffriders - chaos breaker dragon doesn’t count he was diffridden during U20 - to remain on earth, a point which he makes sure to bring up as proof of his superior survival abilities. The kid whose body he’s possessing expresses that he’s not happy about the way dumjid’s acting and dumjid doesn’t give a shit and continues to puppet his body around. Just, everything about him as a character is so fascinating in a concerning way and, like shiranui, he brings up the fact that vanguard is Real in a way that the earth characters don’t really consider - yes they have strong imaginations and genuine attachment to their units, but ultimately they’re playing a card game where even if cards get sent to the drop/damage zones they can come back for the next battle* whereas on cray they’re fighting Actual Battles and the units that die die For Real And Permanently. Unlike shiranui, who eventually began to see vanguard as a method of reunion with his dead friends and decided that what he’d been told about earth vanguard being a direct cause for his friends’ deaths might be wrong, Dumjid never changes his view on earth vanguard after “experiencing death”, so when he finally loses and goes back to cray he’s essentially dragged back clawing and screaming. I don’t know, there’s just something about him that’s sooooo soooo fascinating to me
#*not counting g zones in battles with zeroth dragons except that chrono’s g zone DID come back#though that was probably only possible due to his Singularity so that’s a special case ig#also saori is kinda fascinating too in that he’s just some normal kid who agrees to let dumjid puppeteer his body bc he looks up to him#and then dumjid brings all his baggage and Completwlg Fucking Spirals and saori’s like I Want To Get Off This Ride Now but he Can’t#and while he once let dumjid control him now dumjids controlling him by force#and saori Doesn’t Like What He’s Doing but he Can’t Control His Own Body and he’s moving and speaking but it Isn’t Him#and even after dumjid is sent back from cray he falls in a coma#and I’m pretty sure he was in the coma for the longest time out of the people that were diffriden#which makes sense considering how much longer dumjid was controlling him for#but imagine waking up and you’re finally you again#but you have to deal with the fact that someone who you thought was cool used your body to try to start the apocalypse#and it affected your physical health too + you probably remember feeling all the things that dumjid felt#like. what. and I think we only saw him non-diffridden that one time in the last episode on his team with taiyou and hiroki#which was very cute and all and I’m glad he at least got friends out of it but Good God#anyways all the diffriders are just Fascinating to me and I could probably talk like this abt all of them#but I probably think about dumjid the most bc of *gestures* All That#sorry I have Gotta Yap Disease but I think I’m done now probably.#cfvg#fuchidaka saori#kind of#flare trooper dumjid#guess we’re tagging units now
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Cool. So I guess this really was my hero academia or whatever the fuck ever
#bnha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#trying to be normal and sane about one of my fav mangas being ruined in 5 literal chapters it’s fine#wkwksjskjsskjsks like oh my god#that shit w the new character and the old lady who ignored tenko???????????#like in what world. is that like#truly have never been so angry abt something actually like lmao fuck u#SORRY JUST LIKE WHAT?????? WHAT ARE WE DOING???????#‘a world where heroes have more free time’ and hero society is exactly the same and kei has maybe possibly the most busy job of all now#(and also the job of the people who literally groomed him)#but it’s fine because ?????? idek actually?????#when they had endeavor sit beside dabi’s death bed until he inevitably dies with no regard to what he wants I thought#it can’t get any worse right:)#hA.#okay anyways. I’m stealing these characters#tenko I would have done tons of cocaine with u and kept u alive forever#lmao sorry#ghost thoughts
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i want to bite on eddie’s ankles like a chew toy
#can’t b normal abt him ever#he’s just so cute :( every part of him :(#also I haven’t been online or interacting as much lately I’m sorry i will be better!!!#i miss my friends and rbing my friends stuff#just been a lil out to lunch u know#live#eddie.txt#🦇
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i once read something that described kendall as taking up maximum space at the dinner table, scoffing everything down and even picking at the food stuck between his teeth at the end . and it’s like. what a wild misunderstanding of the character. he’s constantly wilting, has literally never finished his plate and it’s actually. odd how absent he is at every dinner table , constant dissociation that’s framed as normal as everybody chats around him
#like don’t get me wrong he can definitely put on a show. and he probably likes to. but it’s so obviously fake. like you can#pretend the whale is a shark but at the end of the day it’s still a fucking whale . constant moaning and wailing etc#like i cannot think of any dinner scene in succession where he is fully present. family or otherwise#idk how much sense this makes really. but that bit about him disassociating even in the credits made me think#like . this stems from me writing 1k abt kendall ed the other day. but like yeah he’ll order the 8 ounce steak in front of you and eat it#like he’s normal but the meat stuck between his teeth will drive him crazy#he’ll go to the bathroom for a straightener that doesn’t work and he’ll want to blow#his fucking brains out bc he can’t stick his fingers down his throat here but my god he wants to#sorry. anyway#tw ed#.
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the choice of ai’s name is really so genius not only because of the ‘eye’ pun and her character arc being centered around love / how idols embody love, but also because she’s literally the vessel for every single one of aqua’s loves…. like she’s his mother but also his first love and also a stand-in for the (presumably) parental love he felt for sarina….. ai is love. his love. all these different loves melting together. idk but i’m obsessed with them and whatever freaky soul connection they have
#they’re so greek tragedy coded#aaaaaaa i need to read the manga 😔😔#i can’t analyze their characters properly otherwise sobs…#but this is . my take. as an anime only <33#it blew my mind when i watched the first ep with my bestie and she was like . i wonder if aqua views ai as his daughter#LIKE???????????#oughhhhhh sorry i can’t be normal abt gorou/aqua and his fixation on ai because it’s so???????????????#it always . comes back. to sarina and him#like that’s the Core of the story#the core of a manga about the darkness of the entertainment industry is a hospital bed where a dying girl watches an idol sing on stage#THAT’S SO .#sorry. i’m still sick so i feel especially insane#ari noises ✩
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everyone always wants to talk about jenny nicholsons video essays and i’m like does ANYONE want to talk about the art of the mattress aka the sleep song. bc it plays in my head every time i see anything about her.
#sleep sleep sleep time to go to sleep now… it is night and i need to sleep while it is dark….#also of course it’ll be okay from the wedding episode <3#anyway she blocks me on twitter also. not as scandalous as it seems i just made a vague tweet abt friendship is witchcraft#and presumably got auto blocked#i wasn’t even calling her out either i think i was just like. reflecting on how the song from it was trending on tiktok#it’s an understandable reason to block people just. not wanting to engage with that part of her history i get that#this was also before her briny video so she hadn’t spoken on it in a long time#brony*#i genuinely like that video a LOT i think she is able to offer a really unique perspective on a lot of brony fandom culture#not just as a big name creator but as a long time fan of older mlp gens#and ofc what she had to say about the use of the g slur in fiw was like. i mean i believe her.#that she and the cocreator had no idea it was a slur and dropped that aspect when they realized it was.#like i didn’t know for a long time either. it’s not my place to be like ‘and that means it’s fine and not a problem’#and i don’t think it IS fine. but certainly everything she said about her intentions seems like. true and honest.#anyway brony stuff aside i hate her for the way she’s spoken about john boyega. no apologies for THAT huh!!!!#there are some things out there that ppl attribute to her that are fully fake/edited but#ppl will also say ‘oh she didn’t say anything bad about him that was fake’ no she very much did#but i’ve followed her on youtube since she was still actively making fiw like she had a bit with a pony oc that she did for a while#i remember the first star wars video when i was like oh she Is A Reylo#which on its own is like. ew but i’m still interested in her stuff#but you know. she crossed a line i think#and i do still find her stuff INTERESTING#and i am genuinely still fond of fiw though a lot of that is nostalgia#but like she has a lot of interesting stuff to say about mlp and obviously as a theme park fan she’s inescapable#and it pisses me off that she’s friends with other creators i DO like but also they know her as a person and i don’t#sorry this was gonna be a short post i just can’t talk about her a normal amount#i have to explain every thought i have about her#anyway i haven’t watched the star wars hotel vid but i probably will eventually#in like an incognito tab#r.txt
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:((((((((( i ran out of tags . tumblr hates to see me thrive!!!!!!!
ok niku just . read the tags first and then come back here ok 🙏🙏 i have a lot i still need to say this is so important to me . this fic changed my life .
(WARNING this got long ….. really long ….. mysteriously. i got carried away 💔 PLS don’t feel the need to respond to any of this btw i mean that sincerely i know this is kind of a Lot i just need you to know much i adored this fic <3333)
BACK TO GOJO ok so his talk w reader…… it was just so satisfying to see them finally get to tell someone about their experience. it must’ve been such a great feeling for them !!!! to get some of it off their chest :((( … and to have Gojo Fucking Satoru our safe harbour of a man there to believe them and listen to them and reassure them. he’s so mature when it comes down to it and you captured that so well…… like as much as he acts childish and teasing this is exactly how i picture him interacting w someone he doesn’t know in a situation like this!! he’s flirty and unserious but he tells you he’ll protect you and means it. (i’m so down bad it physically hurts)
sorry i’m abt to go on a tangent i think BUT I JUST 😔😔 really… REALLY love their dynamic…. how it evolves so much even though he doesn’t even know reader exists for most loops!! and to them he’s just this beautiful Something that they can’t help but look at…… ”inhumanly attractive” is a great way to put it like he’s just….. this magnetic force……….. and i feel like even before they speak to him for the first time they probably find some kind of hope in him.
AND that’s so important bc to me that’s like . the main Theme of the fic? hope. reader has to find some kind of hope to make it through shibuya and more often than not they find it in gojo!!! in just seeing a familiar handsome face, in learning how to navigate the timeline through his actions, in talking to him and finally having him on their side. their choice to trust him fully at the end just made me soooo insane. and obv the hope theme continues even after that because gojo believes in them!!! believes that they’ll be okay in the prison realm….. more on that later actually bc i Still. have a lot to talk abt 😔👉👈 i’m just wildly flipping through my notes at this point i’m sorry to throw this at u when we’ve barely interacted but in my defense this fic reached into my actual skull and started rewiring my brain so!!!! yeah.
i got completely sidetracked there but . yes!! the conversation between them when gojo gets sent back in time is. so good!!!!! so wonderfully written!!!!! i haven’t mentioned it that much yet i think but i love your writing i devoured every line…… i struggle w the flow of my own writing SO much but this just flows so incredibly well??? it was sm fun to read????? and the rhythm of the paragraphs (that sounds. Insane but i hope u know what i mean 😭😭) is so distinct!!! and ofc there are SO many banger lines in this in general…. the gore descriptions and the lines abt reader and their fixation on hope. on gojo!! ”He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.” <- this is just one example but!! idk i’m just so enamored by ur writing style.
and the dialogue!!!!!!!! i cried!!!!!! it’s so consistently gojo…. him going all ”oh?” ”interesting…” but not explaining anything … the ”ding ding ding!” after making reader guess what he should just be telling them (it’s the teacher in him <33) AND AND AND these too!!!! :3
“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”
“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.”
THEY JUST FEEL SO CANON that’s our gojo…… that’s exactly what he would say…… he’s so unserious and so funny and so charming 😔😔 sigh.
ANDDDDD reader telling him good luck!!!! gojo beaming and squeezing their shoulder!!!!! the lil wave!!!!! 🥺🥺 that made me smile so wide niku he’s so infuriatingly cute . it felt so genuine!!!! pls know that this gojo will probably live in my brain forever like genuinely . i’ve been brainrotting over him all week and this was the final nail in the coffin. i’ll never be free.
ok but also !!!! extremely important !!!!!!! before i get to the ending i just need to tell u . how much i loved kenjaku in this ……….. kenjaku nation (me & six others) will never forget these crumbs of content like he just feels so real!!!!! and he’s so interesting!!!!! made me realize how truly down bad i am for him bc these lines made me so fucking happy 😭😭 brain started releasing serotonin like CRAZY i’m so ashamed.
“You can come out, you know.”
”How interesting.”
"I'll be nice, though. I'll make it painless."
…….. he’s just ….. yeah. yeahhhhh. 😔😔 i’ll never be normal abt him. i think it’s SUCH an interesting detail that he always makes reader’s death painless in every single loop…. he never lies about it. that feels so in character to me too!!! he’s kinda fascinated at first and when that interest disappears he kills them. but he doesn’t make it unecessarily cruel because there’s just. no need. kenjaku is a sicko but he’s oddly polite at times and i’m just……. yeah. gonna need you to take over for gege akutami actually 🙏🙏 get in the writer’s chair!!! the fandom needs u!!!!!
wait while we’re on this topic pls just know the entire confrontation between reader and kenjaku was one of my favorite moments in the entire fic <333 not JUST because i’m a kenny stan ok……… reader’s resignation and ”I appreciate it.” made my brain spin because it’s just . kinda chilling? kinda sick? that they aren’t even really afraid of death anymore… or more like they’re just so frighteningly used to it.
AND AND ANDDDD niku your writing in this scene 😵💫😵💫😵💫 gutted me like a fish.
Time doesn't flow in the box. He didn't lie. You die again.
i exploded btw . ackkk i wish i could explain it better i just!!! :< adore your writing. these lines made me go completely batshit they’re just so good. and the ”time doesn’t flow in the box” line … how that ties in with the ending and reader’s choice. whewww.
segway time <3333 this is the final rant i promise!!! i just need to talk about the ending bc it was so perfect and like many other things in this fic it made me insane …. have i said that already …. probably at least a couple times 😔👉👈 it’s true ok!! it’s just sooo interesting to me and obviously so wellwritten and fitting and just. thematically ties everything together so well? i was FLOORED
hhhhh i don’t know where to begin so i’ll just start w the final convo between reader and gojo :> he asks for their name !!!!!!! i cried !!!!!!!!!! calling someone by their name or knowing their name as a form of like . Closeness or Affection is one of my greatest weaknesses and i also think it’s soooo telling that GOJO wants to know Your Name. he wants to know you. to hear that from someone who seems so inhumanly beautiful and violent….. for him to kind of extend a final olive branch and attempt to connect w you :((((( it just says so much without spelling it out and i. started chewing at my desk. it’s so good!!!!!!! such a genius way to tie everything together!!!! and reader’s final words to him…
“Thank you, Satoru Gojo.” You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind. And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black.
first of all!!! so so sooooo pretty. wowow. second of all THE THANK YOU ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ that’s also such a perfect conclusion…….. reader finally put their trust in someone and had that faith returned. and they thank him!!!! i like to think it means something to gojo too…. likeeee how often do people really thank him for what he does? how often is his hard work to protect people acknowledged and appreciated? sorry to bring gojo back into the discussion all the time sadly i AM in love w him….. 😔😔 and this fic made it worse so technically it’s your fault. kind of.
okay so my brain is kinda spinning away again so i’ll get to the final final thing!!!! for real this time!!!!! reader’s decision to be imprisoned in gojo’s stead… that’s so . genius? i’m so in awe??????? it makes so much sense from a character perspective based on what they’ve been through — after being at the mercy of time for so long, wouldn’t it be nice to be free of it? completely? it’s almost kind of chilling and just the idea of it scares me LMAO but it makes sm sense that reader would be drawn to it.
AND like i mentioned before!!! how it leads to a deeper connection between them and gojo, and how at the very end of the fic he’s the one who has faith in them. faith that they’ll be alright, of sound mind.
…… and that brings me to the final final final thing because. it’s just like the opening poem!! reader is the cat in the box. nobody can say for sure if they’re alright, not to mention alive, until the box is opened. and we don’t get to know!!! you leave us on a cliffhanger and that’s so good bc it really is like the cat in the box…. we can only wonder but it also gives us the freedom to decide for ourselves if we think they come out okay or not and i’m just………….. in love. with this fic. and the ending and the reader and gojo and you.
hopefully you’ve noticed atp but i really did go completely insane reading this 😭😭 i said it at the beginning but just to reiterate!!: for SURE one of my all time favorite gojo fics . AND loopfics in general…. thank you sm for your hard work :’3 aaaa i can’t tell u how much i admire the time you spent working on this??? your storytelling and writing and characterization skills????? i genuinely feel sooo giddy and excited and happy rn bc. i just adored this fic!!!! i’m so lucky i got to read it!!!!! :33 pls pat your gojo on the head from me and let him know i love him…. it’ll boost his ego but that’s a risk i’m willing to take 😔😔 i hope you have theeeee loveliest day or night a human being can have bc you made mine <3333333
beyond the unending night (reader + satoru gojo)
notes: it's finally here. the long awaited halloween fic. yes, i know it's march, but i did start working on it in september. haha. there's so much i could say, but i will leave it at that this fic is, in every sense, a fic that i would not normally write. and yet here we are.
contains: f!reader (no physical description or gendered language is used), no explicit romantic pairing (though you don't have to look hard to find the reader x gojo implications), major character death (played with), semi-graphic depictions of death, blood and violence, minor suicide ideation, canon retelling (lines of dialogue are pulled from the jjk english dub because i'm a dirty dub watcher). opening poem is from higurashi no naku koro ni (minagoroshi-hen). fic title is from giga's beyond the way.
please note that this is a time loop fic and, by nature contains repeating scenes (particularly from canon). please do not read this fic if you do not like that sort of thing.
wc: 21,883 read on ao3 (account required)
Please tell me what happened in this night. It's like the cat inside the box.
Please tell me what happened in this night. You don't know if the cat in the box is dead or alive. Please tell me what happened in this night. The cat in the box was dead.
The first time, it is instant— you don’t even know what’s happening.
The second, it is by flame, but you barely realize it, barely feel it— a second of mind numbing heat before nothing.
The third time, it is something slicing across your throat; you see the blood spilling everywhere, then the pain follows— a moment of pure agony before nothing.
The fourth time you realize what’s going on; what’s really going on.
You realize you’ve been dying.
You think your head is going to explode.
At first, you think it’s because the subway platform is crowded, insanely so— there are hundreds of people shoved into this space alongside you, packed like sardines in a can. You’ve never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you live in Tokyo. For the most part, you’ve learned to accept it, but even this crowd is a little much and you wish you hadn’t listened to your friends when they said you should go party in Shibuya for Halloween; you don’t even like partying.
There’s a sharp pain in your temple followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone is screaming it at you through a megaphone positioned right next to your ear.
It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
For the eighth time.
Before you can even question the thought, images flash in your mind’s eye, blurry at first before they come into focus. The platform gates open. Chaos ensues. People dropping onto the subway tracks— spontaneously bursting into flame— their heads, necks sliced off, stomachs cut open—
Bile rapidly builds up in your throat, and you clamp your jaw shut, trying to force it down. Not here. Not now. You try to focus on something else, anything else happening outside of your brain. There’s a pair next to you musing about the people standing on the subway tracks, wondering what the two (the four?) of them are talking about. You blink back tears as you look. You can only see two: a freakishly tall man with white hair dressed in all black, and another man, dressed in strange, yet more traditional looking garb. Are those costumes too? You don’t have a lot of time to think about it as another image forces its way into your brain.
Your corpse— lifeless on the ground.
Your corpse— burning to ash.
Your corpse— bleeding out.
You can’t hold it in any more. Every fiber in your being screams at you to get away from the subway tracks, but instead you rush toward them, shoving people left and right as your hands desperately reach the stability of the gate. You grip it like a lifeline as you retch over the side of it, the contents of your stomach spilling all over the subway tracks.
There’s a quiet murmur of disgust behind you but you can’t be bothered to respond. You need to get out of here. You need to leave. You need to do it before—
The gates open and the crowd starts to move like a tidal wave, pushing and shoving their way through the gate. You’re swept away, vomit long forgotten as you and a few dozen others tumble onto the railway.
Alarm bells go off in your brain, loud and deafening. A voice in the back of your head screams for you to get off the track! Get off the track now before—
The platform erupts into a cacophony of screams, drenched in horror, saturated in fear. You are surrounded by people, by corpses— beheaded, sliced open, bursting into flames.
Your terror roots you to the ground as the carnage ensues around you. It’s only when another person, another corpse, dressed in a magical girl costume collides with your body that you can finally move. But it’s too late, you realize, despaired and helpless, as your bodies fall to the ground.
It’s too late.
You die an eighth time.
You think your chest is going to explode.
At first, you think it’s because it’s so hard to breathe, frustratingly so— there are hundreds of people squeezed into this space alongside you, packed like cattle for slaughter. You've never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you’re in Shibuya. For the most part, you’ve come to accept it, but this crowd is way too much and you wish you had just stayed home and ordered a pizza; though honestly, the thought of pizza kind of makes you sick.
There’s a dull throbbing in your forehead, followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone’s hollering at you from a loudspeaker that’s been installed in your brain.
It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
You think it's the ninth time now.
Behind you, you hear a woman screaming, her voice crazed and terrified. You turn your head automatically to look at her and when you see her you realize you recognize her yellow and white magical girl costume. You can say with certainty that you’ve never seen her before and yet—
Before you can ruminate more on it, images— memories assault your mind’s eye with a clarity that is absolutely sickening. That woman colliding into you, your bodies slamming into the subway tracks before you both— Your stomach churns violently,
and you feel like you’re going to puke, but you force it down— can't afford to right now. Instead, you make your way over to the woman.
Her head is in her hands as she mutters over and over again about how everyone is going to die. People around her figure that being stuck in here with the crowd has probably gotten to her. You, however, know better.
“...hey,” you say softly.
Her muttering comes to an abrupt halt and slowly she raises her head to look at you. There’s a flash of recognition in her eyes and she grabs you violently by the shoulders. “You! You know, don’t you? That we’re going to die?”
If it weren’t for the fact that you have indeed experienced death here eight times already, then you would have thought she’s lost her mind. Slowly, you nod and she seems relieved by it, her grip on you loosening.
You can’t help but feel a little relieved too— glad to know that you’re not the only one experiencing this nightmare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that’s confused though. Why is she only remembering now? But then again, it took you a few times before you realized yourself.
Around you people start to gasp, and you glance back toward the railway to see an abnormally tall man with white hair and dressed in all black jump down from the atrium onto the railway. He lands rather gracefully for someone who jumped at least one floor and starts to converse with the other three people (you think they're people— two of them are in some pretty wild costumes) on the track.
Wait. Isn’t it supposed to be just two people: the tall man and the one in the traditional clothes? Where did the other two come from?
“We have to get out of here,” the woman says. “Before they kill us.”
Her grip shifts from your shoulders to your arms and she starts to shove at everyone around you, trying to force her way through. She seems to know, just as well as you do, that any second now the gates will open and the crowd will start spilling onto the railway, littering the tracks with bodies and ash. Neither of you can let yourselves get swept up with the rest. If you do and you end up on those tracks, you’re as good as dead.
People move aside at a snail's pace, many of them too focused on trying to see what is going on on the subway tracks. This isn't good. You need to move faster or else—
The collective sound of the gates opening echoes in your head, a metallic hiss that makes your stomach fold into itself. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you both whip your heads back to look, to confirm, but it’s a mistake.
The briefest lapse in attention is enough to pull you both into the current of people, and try as you might to fight against it, the crowd splits you and the woman apart as it swallows you both whole. You’re both spat onto the tracks at the edge of the platform and your head collides with the metal rails of the track. It feels like your skull is about to crack in two, and it takes every fiber in your being to scramble to your feet. You're close enough to the platform that if you can just climb up it, then you'll be—
“Help! Help!”
It’s the woman’s voice. You turn to see that she ended up a couple meters away from you. She’s staring at you, eyes brimming with fear filled tears as she extends her hand in your direction. You take a step toward her, reaching out.
And then, her entire body is engulfed in flames, the skirt of her magical girl costume a ring of fiery death around her.
Her blood curdling scream is the only thing you can hear, her burning flesh, the only thing you can see. You don’t know what to do.
You can’t save her.
There's something touching your back. You can barely feel the pressure, but it's hot, scorching hot, mind numbingly hot, painfully hothothot.
You know this sensation. You have felt it before. The scent of burning cloth, burning hair, burning flesh clogs your nostrils. It's too late, you realize, helpless, despaired as the flames eat at your body— your soon to be corpse.
It's too late.
You die a ninth time.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
This is the tenth time.
Your head hurts, but you ignore it. There’s something more important that you need to attend to. You immediately make your way to the woman you met during your last round, the one you watched burn to death. Her costume is still pristine, unmarred by fire and death.
For now.
She’s not screaming this time and while there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that’s concerned by this, you try to ignore it.
“Um, excuse me?” you say when she doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach.
The woman turns to look at you. You’re taken aback by the distinct lack of recognition and it feels almost as if the woman you encountered previously and the one before you now are two separate people. In a way, they technically are.
“Do I… know you?” she finally asks when you don’t say anything.
Your mouth is dry. How do you even answer that? You don’t know her. You just watched her die twice. You know her. She begged you for help. You couldn’t save her.
If you explain all of this you know she’s just going to think you’ve lost your mind. Maybe you already have— you’ve died nine times after all.
You give her a weak smile. “I… just wanted to tell you that you think your costume looks great.”
She blinks, taken aback by your words. There’s no doubt that she wasn’t expecting you to say that. It’s the truth though, her costume is nice; she’s dressed up as a character from a magical girl anime that was popular a couple years ago.
“Thank you! I made it myself!” The woman breaks out into a genuine smile and your heart hurts. In a few moments she’ll die and the costume she worked so hard to make will be nothing but ash on the subway tracks.
“Sorry,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
“For?”
For watching her die. For not being able to save her.“...I just kind of came up to you all of a sudden…”
She laughs. “It’s okay.”
It’s not.
You consider telling her that she should try to move. That if she stays here she will die. You don’t want her to die. Again. You can still hear her screaming in your ears as she burned to death. You want to tell her.
You don’t.
“Stay safe, okay?” you say. It almost sounds like you’re begging.
She gives you another smile, kind and gentle and you think you’re far too undeserving of it for not telling her what fate will soon befall her. “You too.”
“I’ll try,” you say and move away from the woman just as the gates open and the crowd surges toward the railway. You do not fight it as you are swept up into the crowd and despite what you said, you do not try, this time, to stay safe.
You die for the tenth time.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
This is the fourteenth time.
There’s a slight ache in your head, but it’s subtle enough that you can ignore it. The pain you feel lessens with each round and you think it’s a sign that your body no longer feels the need to remind you of the precarious situation that you’re in.
Or maybe you are just becoming numb to everything: your death, the death of the people around you, the death of the woman in the magical girl costume—
You try not to think about it too much as you reach into your bag to check the time on your phone: 8:37PM. There’s not a lot of time: you need to move.
At the very end of your last attempt to escape this nightmare you realized something. You need to know exactly what is going on around you so you can plan accordingly: where to not stand, where to not go. Up until now, you’ve relied almost solely on the knowledge gained from your previous failures to try and survive, but obviously it’s not enough to keep you alive. You’re not sure why you didn’t realize this earlier. The panic, maybe? The fear?
Maybe you really are becoming numb to all this.
Unlike previous iterations, this time you elect to move closer to the gate, positioning yourself somewhere against it where you’re unlikely to be pushed off the platform in a couple minutes when they open. You take great care to place yourself where you can see the ones responsible for the slaughter very clearly. At the beginning, you could only see one, the one who looks the most human, but with each repetition, the other two have become more and more clear. You wonder why. You don’t have time to think about it.
Murmurs nearby alert you to the arrival of the fourth major player involved in the night’s events. You look up and see the white haired man dressed in all black descending upon the platform like an angel from the heavens. This is your first time really looking at him and you realize there’s something almost inhumanly attractive about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it occurs to you that you shouldn’t even try; you don’t have the time to be drooling over some handsome stranger.
You’ve naturally never taken the time to try and listen to whatever the conversation the man and his opponents have before all hell breaks loose on the platform, but you try and lean closer to listen. It’s hard to hear over the dozens of conversations going on behind you, but you try anyway. There might be a clue to what’s actually going on— or better yet, a clue on how to get out of it.
It’s obvious that you’re missing context from what bits of the conversation you do manage to hear, but honestly it all sounds like stuff out of a shounen battle manga. There is one part of the exchange that you manage to hear with a startling sort of clarity. It feels almost as if your heart stops beating as your blood turns ice cold in your veins.
“If I run away, you’re just gonna kill everyone here, right?” the man in black asks.
There’s a pause, and if your heart was still beating it’d be long enough for just four heartbeats.
“If you run away?” The monster with cane repeats, the sadistic grin spreading wide across its features, displaying its charcoal black teeth. The gravelly sound of its voice sets fire to the blood in your veins, your stilled heart thumping wildly, in fear, in anticipation. Soon. It’s happening soon. You brace yourself. “We’re going to do that even if you don’t!”
You die a fourteenth time.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
This is the seventeenth time now.
Things are going surprisingly well, even as the people around you tumble onto the tracks. You manage to hold on, desperation keeping you from falling into the abyss. This is good, you tell yourself, despite the fact that it’s not the first time you’ve achieved this. Every little victory is worth celebrating, but you have to remain vigilant. This is yet another information gathering loop, and while you know that maybe this time you’ll be lucky and live, there’s still a chance, a big one, at that, that you will die again.
You have to make the most of each and every death.
It’s such a morbid thought, but the ends justify the means, or so you tell yourself. If you have to die a few times to make it out of this unending nightmare, then so be it.
The spot you’re in is a good vantage point; it’s easier to see everything happening below you. It’s so good that it’s actually sickening. You watch as the monster with the cane and one with what looks like branches for eyes slaughter the people on the track, mowing them down, setting them aflame. In another life, in another many lives, that was you down there, and for what feels like the first time in forever, you feel like you’re going to be sick. You feel like, at some point, you likened the scene before you to some kind of shounen battle manga, but you think that was wrong.
This is borderline horror.
Everything plays out before you like a scene out of an action horror flick. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were just an extra on set, but you know the reality is that you’re just an extra to whatever phantasmal battle is taking place in front of you. The monsters and the strangely dressed man all try to attack the man in black, but he manages to block every hit effortlessly, as if he is protected by some sort of invisible barrier. When it seems the two monsters are about to hit him, he merely jumps out of the way and the two monsters seem to collide, the force of their combined strength sending a gust of air throughout the crowd. The man in black neatly lands on a nearby platform half wall and says something about curse users, whatever those are, to the monsters, before he starts to mock them, pulling down his strange blindfold in the process.
And this, you’ve found, is where you start to get in trouble.
You clearly remember thinking, at some point, previously, that there was something attractive about this man. You still don’t know what it is. You haven’t had the time to try and figure it out, but there is one thing that you do know: you can’t keep your eyes off of him.
He drops back down onto the tracks, antagonizing his opponents in an arrogant tone as he approaches. When he comes to a stop between the two monsters, the second round of their fight begins. They try to hit him, but he dodges still, gracefully, fluidly, like the three of them are embroiled in some sort of passionate, yet violent dance.
You cannot turn your eyes away as he cruelly rips off one of the arms of the one-eyed monster.
You cannot turn your eyes away as he brutally kicks the branch-eyed monster in the abdomen, sending them flying to the other side of the platform.
You cannot turn your eyes away as he effortlessly hurls the one-eyed, now one-armed monster in the same direction, sending them smashing into the wall.
Only when the man in black seems to fly to the other side is the spell over you seemingly broken. Still, your eyes give chase, and your body too, rushing from one side of the platform to the other. You can’t lose sight of this fight, you tell yourself, settling in a spot you recall being safe during your last round. Doing so could mean another death, another loop, another October 31.
You watch as the man in black acrobatically dodges what looks to be vines or roots that the monster with branches for eyes seems to have summoned from the depths of the Tokyo metro. He lands on the monster’s shoulders, balancing on them as he uses its branch-eyes for leverage. The look in the man’s eyes is so crazed that you can see it from where you’re standing. He says something to it and then—
With a feral and sadistic smile, he rips their eyes straight out of their skull.
Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest as you watch the fight unfold. It is horrifyingly, disgustingly violent, yet still you watch as people on the track are killed by the human-like person, blood raining down as their freshly beheaded skulls go flying into the air. He and the one-eyed monster launch their counter attacks against the man in black and the blowback is so intense the power goes out causing everyone to scream.
There’s a faint glow where the man in black is standing that starts to grow brighter and brighter. You can make out his form turning to face the wall, and it seems almost like he’s slammed the monster that had branches for eyes against it with some sort of telekinetic power. Despite the panic from the people around you, you manage to hear him, chuckling like a mad man as he draws closer and closer to the monster.
The one-eyed monster yells out a name, a name you think must belong to the man, but he doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as he extends his hands out toward the eyeless monster, exerting some kind of force that you can’t really see. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as the eyeless monster’s entire body is vaporized in a flash of blue light. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster, as the lights flicker back on revealing a smoking crater stained with purple blood where the eyeless monster once stood.
But you do.
Satoru Gojo.
You make sure to remember that.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
And this is the eighteenth time.
You watch as the man called Satoru Gojo stalks through the crowd of people on the subway tracks, chasing after the one-eyed fire monster. It throws people at him, in a clear attempt to slow him down.
It does not work.
Satoru Gojo climbs back onto the platform in a way that you can only describe as inhuman, and the people nearby shriek and move away from him, out of terror, out of fear. You, on the other hand, draw closer, refusing to lose sight of him.
He is relentless in his pursuit of the one-eyed monster. It continues to throw person after person at him, but he does not stop and the people float there, suspended in midair before they are gently lowered to the ground by some unseen force and scramble away.
No one dares get close to Satoru Gojo, everyone on the platform seems to know that doing so means certain death, yourself included. But you still feel the need to keep an eye on him. The monster and the strangely dressed man are focusing more on him than the crowd— anyone in between is just collateral damage.
But not you.
Especially since you’ve made it this far— you’ve never made it this far before.
A voice echoes throughout the platform; you realize it’s the automated announcement.
An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.
You can hear everyone’s relief coming from all sides. The train is coming! The train is coming! A ripple of hope makes its way throughout the crowd. With the train comes the chance to get off the platform and the senseless violence that’s been happening here. Some of the people around you are talking excitedly and others are running toward the gates, toeing the yellow line they’ve been instructed to wait behind. And you, you should be excited, you should be hopeful.
All you feel is dread.
It eats at your stomach, at your chest, at your mind. Clawing and gnawing at you in a way that leaves you paralyzed on the platform. There’s something wrong here. You can’t be sure because you’ve never made it this far, never survived long enough for the train to come, but something is just not right.
No.
You must be paranoid. The train coming is a good thing. It has to be a good thing. You are just paranoid. It’s normal. It’s natural. Dying seventeen times would do that to anyone— rob them of hope, condemn them to an existence full of fear.
It is not lost on you that the thought of dying more than once, much less, dying seventeen times is not normal or natural in the very slightest.
But you need hope, you crave it, wildly, desperately. The hope of freedom, of escape is the only thing getting you through this unending nightmare. Every time you die, every time you wake, it is with the hope that maybe, just maybe this iteration will be different, maybe this one will be the one where you make it out, make it back to your friends who must be waiting for you, make it back home where you can be safe and sound. You need the hope to keep going. Because without hope, what will you have left?
The train screeches as it pulls into the station and the people around you laugh in both disbelief and relief. They start to push and shove toward it, fighting to be able to board because there’s no way everyone here will be able to get on an eight car train and being left behind at this point is practically synonymous with death. Unable to decide if you believe in the train as a symbol of hope or a new layer of fear, you are pushed along with the crowd toward it.
The doors of the train cars slide open and the current passengers all rush off as they disembark. You as well as everyone else on the platform can see with a horrifying clarity that the train is filled to the brim with monsters. Monsters that reach out and grab anyone their hands can reach. The woman to your left. The person to your right.
You.
Hope is gone.
What do you have left?
You die for the eighteenth time.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
This is probably the twenty-sixth time now.
If there is anything this entire ordeal has taught you, it is that you are resilient. Whether it is some innate trait that you never had any reason to uncover before or just a byproduct of being trapped in an unending cycle of being dead and not dead, you don't know. What you do know, though, is that even if you no longer have hope, you at least have your resilience.
Whether you want it or not.
You check the time. It’s 8:35PM. Something flickers in your chest, like a faint light in a sea of darkness, but you ignore it. You don’t have time right now.
With a nimbleness born from your previous failures, you weave your way through the crowd. You’ve done this enough times to know where the gaps are— who will yield and who won’t. Your destination is the escalator that leads off the platform and up to a higher part of the station. You’d noticed previously that the escalator along with every other entrance onto the platform will eventually be blocked by vines or roots of some sort (the work of the branch-eyed monster probably). It’s not a perfect plan because you don’t know what happens on the other side, but whatever it is has to be better than whatever is happening on the side that you’ve been on.
You’d tried to get to the stairs during your last two rounds, but you’d just missed it. You hadn’t been fast enough and had gotten caged and slaughtered along with the rest. But this time, this time you have more time. It’s just one minute, but it’s enough. You know it is.
The flickering in your heart grows stronger. Hope. You try not to pay attention to it— you don’t want to be disappointed yet again. But you want to so badly. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to focus on the good, tells you that if there was truly no way out of this endless nightmare, then why would you get more and more time with each round to escape your fate?
With that thought in mind, you break out into a run, recklessly rushing through the crowd, shoving anyone who will not yield to the side. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the stark white of Satoru Gojo’s hair as he descends upon the platform.
You need to get up those stairs.
Now.
If you remember correctly, the roots and vines don’t close off the area the moment he touches down, but a little after they start talking, so you think there is probably some time, but you can’t leave it to chance.
The stairs are packed, and for some reason no one is moving. The escalator right next to it is just as full and the power doesn’t seem to be working. You don’t have time for this. You clamber onto the escalator’s rubber handrail, ignoring the weird feeling that passes through your body as you do so. You don’t have the time to worry about whatever that is. The people around you start exclaiming around you, but you don’t care, you don’t listen. You wobble as you try to balance yourself and when you think you’re steady you try to run.
But you trip.
And you die for the twenty-sixth time.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
This marks the thirtieth time.
And you have, finally, finally made it up the escalator, up the stairs with barely a second to spare. You pause, glancing back as the roots or vines or whatever the hell they are seal off the entrance to the platform. You notice that the area where the plants come down is actually fairly clear, despite the crowd. It seems weird, but you don’t dwell on it.
A strange feeling envelops your entire body and your legs turn into jelly. As you sink to the floor, you realize what you’re feeling is relief as all the tension, maybe thirty iterations of Halloween 2018 worth, seeps from your being. You don't remember the last time you felt anything other than fear and dread; it’s weird, but not unwelcome.
That voice in the back of your mind tells you that you can't relax just yet: October 31st isn’t over. Even though you have repeated this night again and again, burning the events that play out on the platform into your memory, you do not know a single thing that happens over here. It would be smart to scope everything out.
Legs still shaky, you rise to your feet and start walking. You think it’s probably for the best to try and head up to the surface and you make your way up to the next floor.
It’s packed with people here too, but relatively peaceful, especially when you compare it to the pandemonium taking place beneath your feet. Still, you can make out the undeniable hum of displeasure resonating throughout the crowd. People complaining about how uncomfortable their costumes are, people complaining about how much they want to go home, people complaining about how much their nights have been ruined because they couldn’t meet up with their friends and—
A thought hits you like an eight car train.
You were supposed to meet up with your friends.
That’s why you were on the platform in the first place— you were waiting for them to arrive, but then the trains stopped working, and people just started pouring into the station out of seemingly nowhere (you think you heard some people say they’d come from the crossing?). Soon after that is when everything went to shit.
You check your phone, though, for once it’s not to look at the time (8:56PM). Instead, you open LINE to check your friends’ group chat. There’s no signal here, for whatever reason, so if there are any new messages, you haven’t received them. The last one was from Kei, mentioning he was enroute, but as far as you know, you’re the only one who made it to Shibuya before the trains stopped.
Did one of them maybe make it here though? Surely, you would have run into them if—
The image of a woman in a magical girl costume fills your vision, burning to death before your very eyes as her screams echo in your ears. It is the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve thought about her and your stomach churns violently. You couldn’t help her, you can’t even help yourself, so how could you even expect to do the same for your friends if they were here? The mere thought of having to watch them die over and over is almost enough to send you over the edge. You don’t know if you could do it.
Would you even have a choice?
No. You can't think like that. You have choices. You've had choices. If you didn’t then, you would still be down below, among the fire and brimstone. Dying, if not dead already. However, instead, you are up here, where, for the moment, it is quiet and peaceful.
That thought, in of itself, is enough to give you a shred of solace, a glimmer of hope.
You take a deep breath and fiddle with your phone a little more, changing your lock screen to a picture you and your friends took at a photo booth not too long ago. The four of you are huddled together, faces squished as if you're all struggling to fit in the frame, despite there being plenty of room. You're mid-laugh because it's the first time you've been in a photo booth in years, Mio and Shin are grinning mischievously and finally, Kei is smiling, but only just slightly, the embarrassment clear on his face. It's probably only been a few months since you all took this picture, but the fact that it feels like it's been years makes your heart ache.
You press your forehead to the screen, like a prayer, like a promise.
You will make it out of this nightmare.
No matter what.
A shrill scream yanks you from your thoughts and you are instantly on your feet, alert as your eyes flit around frantically to identify the source. It doesn't take long for you to find it and when you do, you think you might have stumbled upon a new layer of horror to this nightmare.
It’s not the corpse, dangling by a noose, that terrifies you— by now you’ve seen dozens upon dozens of dead bodies that the sight of just one more doesn’t faze you in the slightest. The thing that’s the most mortifying, that’s the most disturbing is that right next to where the body is tied are two girls, two teenage girls still dressed in their school uniforms.
You can accept monsters and weirdly dressed men being responsible for the carnage tonight, but children too? Both girls look like they’re barely in high school and try as you might to rationalize things, to chalk it up to coincidence, you cannot ignore the ominous energy radiating from them.
The very notion that these two children could have killed someone here is a hard pill to swallow, but so is the fact that you’ve died.
And you’ve had to swallow that pill thirty times now, so what’s once more?
“Listen up!” one of the girls yells over the crowd, but she is mostly ignored; you don’t think everyone here has noticed her and the corpse dangling from the rafters. She scowls and turns to the other girl and says something quietly to her. The other girl nods and almost instantly she’s stringing up another person, another example. You want to look away so badly, and yet you cannot bring yourself to and you watch the poor soul choke to death.
“I said listen, you dumb monkeys!” the girl shouts, and this time she’s caught most of the crowd’s attention. “If you don’t want to end up like these two, you’ll listen to what we have to say!”
There is clear dissent among the crowd, people dismissive as they utter their disbelief. Some seem to think it’s a prank, but you know better. It takes two more examples before the crowd goes silent before the two high schoolers.
“About damn time!” The girl roars and then points toward the atrium, which is currently covered by roots and branches. “All of you move over there!”
You have a bad feeling about this.
Still, you comply; the girls have made it abundantly clear that failure to do so will result in death, though, at this point, you're almost certain this iteration is a bust and death is all but imminent. You try to keep positive— thinking you can at least gather information or, who knows, maybe there's a chance that this one is the one.
Yet when you step onto the mound of vines and branches that cover the atrium it feels as if you've crossed the threshold into hell. Your footing is stable… but for how long?
An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.
It's faint, but you can hear the announcement from below. The liquid in your stomach curdles at the sound as you recall the train and, in particular, what is on board. Soon enough, those monsters will be swarming the platform, massacring everyone in reach, guzzling down their blood, feasting on their flesh—
It dawns on you that the people on the platform are the monsters' first course.
And you, and those around you here in the shrubbery, are the second.
As you realize this, the branches and vines disintegrate beneath your very feet and suddenly you are mid air— falling, falling into the abyss below.
You die for the thirtieth time.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
You've done this nearly sixty times now.
After countless failures, you've decided that you're just not going to go upstairs any more. No matter where you try to go, you still end up herded onto the death trap above the platform where you ultimately fall to your death. You've tried positioning yourself in the same spot, tried bracing yourself for the drop— but nothing seems to work: upon landing, assuming you manage to land without hurting yourself or dying in midair (which has happened a couple times) you get grabbed and killed by one of the monsters from the train. It's probably not impossible, you just don't have the physical prowess or reflexes for it.
If anything, you can try again later, but you sincerely hope you don't have to.
It's 8:32PM, and you have plenty of time to get to your chosen spot for this loop— it's close to the stairs, in the very center of the platform. Here, there's little risk of getting pushed off onto the tracks when the gates open. You'll probably have to move when the train comes, or even before (assuming you survive) to avoid the monsters, but you'll get to that when it's time.
You can't really see the fight once it breaks out after Satoru Gojo arrives, but you still try to keep track of it as best as you can. You see when he hurls both monsters across the platform and you're not sure if it's muscle memory or what but you have to fight the urge to move to the side and watch. It's been a while, yes, but you've seen the fight countless times before— it doesn't change. Satoru Gojo will give chase. He will rip the branches from the branch eyed monster's skull. He will use some kind of power to eviscerate them.
You don't need to watch, but there's something in you that wants to.
It doesn't make sense, you've seen it all before; if you're unlucky you'll see it all again.
The lights go out and people start screaming; Satoru Gojo is ending the life of that one monster. Soon enough he'll be back on the platform, in pursuit of the other. You think at that point it would be good to move, reposition yourself as far from the incoming train as possible.
When he rises from the tracks like a demon straight from hell, you realize it's the first time this loop that you've actually gotten a good look at him. You remind yourself, again, that this isn't the first time you've seen this man, this scene. You can't help but watch, but stare at Satoru Gojo as he stalks through the crowd in pursuit of his prey. His expression is an eerie sort of calm that's at odds with the acts of violence you've seen him commit— his eyes an unnaturally bright blue.
He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.
An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.
The sound of the announcement sends your heartbeat into a frenzy, snapping you out of your little trance. The train is coming and you need to get moving. As you dart to the edge of the platform, the thought occurs to you that even if you avoid the initial wave of monsters, it's likely you will inevitably be caught by them and killed. It wouldn't be impossible for Satoru Gojo to turn his attention to them instead of the two he's currently facing, but he's just one man— can he truly defeat all those monsters?
You can see the train pulling in and you brace yourself, praying that it'll work out somehow.
The doors hiss open and the screaming starts again as the monsters come bursting out of the train, biting and mauling anyone they can get their hands on. Those who were lucky enough to not be at the front start to scramble away and the monsters give chase. Your body is taut, ready to try and dodge any that come your way.
Out of the corner of your eye you notice something moving through the air. A person? With blue hair? You take the risk to look— they're attacking Satoru Gojo. He tries to punch them but they fly away from him to dodge— disappearing into the crowd.
You hear a loud cracking sound over the cacophony of the crowd and your stomach twists; you know what that sound is. The roots above the atrium disintegrate and bodies from above start to rain down onto the platform.
And then, you're not sure what happens— it's so quick that you only manage to see what looks like an explosion of blood surrounding Satoru Gojo. Corpses litter the ground around him and even from here you can tell he is shaken by the carnage.
The monsters have finally reached where you're standing, and you duck under one as it lunges at you. Although it's big and scary, you realize it's moving kind of slow. Right after it another one comes at you and you take a side step to avoid it; this monster is kind of slow too.
Maybe you can do this.
As soon as you think that a strange feeling courses through you. Every hair on your body feels like it's standing on edge and the voice in your head is telling you to look at Satoru Gojo. You don't understand why because you think he's the least of your worries right now, but you do it anyway.
He's in some sort of stance, one hand raised to his face, fingers bent in some kind of gesture. There's some sort of aura, oppressive and frightening emanating from his form.
Satoru Gojo is doing something.
You just can't tell what.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
And you are utterly confused.
Barring your first few loops when you weren't fully aware of what was happening, you have very distinct memories of how each of your previous iterations of this night have gone— of each and every one of your deaths. But for your last round, the last thing you remember was feeling the immense power radiating from Satoru Gojo's body, but that's it.
You do not remember dying.
In fact, you don't think you did.
And yet, here you are again, back at the start: it's 8:32PM and the monsters and strangely dressed man are standing on the subway tracks waiting for the arrival of Satoru Gojo.
You don't understand what's going on; you didn't die but you're still stuck in this damn loop. Up until now, your death has served as the trigger to restart the loop. It's not impossible that maybe you suffered a quick and painless death but you're almost certain that isn't the case.
Something else must have happened.
Something having to do with Satoru Gojo.
You have to find out what. If you don't, you won't know how to avoid it, and if you can't do that, then you really might spend an eternity stuck in this nightmare. And so you take great care to repeat the steps of your last round. You need to make sure to survive to the same point you made it to last time.
Miraculously, you do.
The moment you feel that sensation again, a prickling sort of feeling that envelops your entire body, your eyes are on Satoru Gojo— trying to figure out what the hell he's doing. His eyes are crazed with a desperate kind of focus. You see his mouth move— he's saying something. A spell? A prayer? A curse?
You don't know.
You do know.
Your brain feels like it's going to explode.
Again.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
Again.
You do not know how many times it's been the night of Halloween in Shibuya: you stopped counting around the hundredth loop. It feels like it's been a while since then. Or maybe it hasn't? You don't know any more.
What you do know is that this night ends up going one of two ways before you are forced to repeat it. Either you die, in some way, shape or form or something happens just after nine that forces you to reset. You still don't know what it is exactly; you only know that Satoru Gojo is responsible for it.
You do prefer it to dying— it's far less painful.
But if anything, you wish you could just die permanently and never have to repeat this night ever again.
Unfortunately, you know better.
The only good thing you’ve noticed about all of this is that you really do seem to keep waking up earlier and earlier. The last time you checked, it was at around 8:30. It might take hundreds of thousands of loops, but eventually you’ll certainly wake up early enough to avoid this damn entire mess.
But by the time that happens… will your sanity still be intact? Will you really be able to go back to a normal day to day life after living the equivalent of hundreds of years, repeating the same night over and over again? You don’t even know how you’ve managed to stay sane all this time and as much as you want to believe you could do it…
There has to be a breaking point.
For both your mind and this time loop.
If you’re lucky, you’ll reach the latter first.
There’s a dull ache in your head that feels foreign yet familiar. Your mind is foggy, all your thoughts hazy as you try to recall what the word for this feeling is.
Groggy.
It feels as if you’ve woken up from a nap and you blink the sleepiness away from your eyes. When was the last time you took a nap? It’s been a while… You think you maybe tried once or twice, but you were too nervous, too on edge. Awake or asleep, it didn’t matter because, either way, you were doomed to repeat this nightmare.
As you think this, you realize that something is different.
You’re used to how the start of each loop feels like waking up suddenly and abruptly and it becomes clear to you that you haven’t looped. This is completely uncharted territory.
You need to find out what’s going on.
The first thing you notice is that it’s quiet. Almost eerily so, especially when the last thing you remember was screaming and chaos. You glance around you and find that it looks like all the monsters from the train are dead, the ground littered in their bloodstains and corpses. There were so many of them, you don’t know how someone could have wiped them out so quickly… Could it possibly have been Satoru Gojo’s doing?
More concerning than the complete eradication of the monsters is the fact that nearly everyone else on the platform is standing stock still, their mouths ajar with blank expressions on their faces. It’s almost as if their souls have completely vacated their bodies…
Were you like that too before you woke up?
You hear voices, and your body immediately goes tense as you turn your head in their direction. A little ways ahead of you, you see a man dressed as a monk conversing with the blue haired person from earlier and before them is—
Your heart nearly stops: it’s Satoru Gojo, restrained and on his knees.
Honestly, you can’t make heads or tails of the conversation they’re having; it’s more shounen battle manga nonsense. Satoru Gojo doesn’t seem to be enjoying their conversation either, and he interrupts them, clearly annoyed.
“Are we gonna do this or what?” he asks. “The view sucks and I’m just kinda bored.”
“I wanted to enjoy this sight for a little bit longer, but you are right,” the monk says. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen— gate, close.”
When he says that, Satoru Gojo’s restraints move, the weirdly shaped cubes at the ends of them closing in around him, trapping him in a giant red cube. It starts to shrink until it’s small enough to fit in the monk’s hand.
You gulp and hope they don’t notice that you’re awake. The fact that they haven’t slaughtered the rest of the people standing around you is a good sign, but you don’t want to find out what happens if they know you’re cognizant.
It’s not hard to play the part of a living statue, especially when you compare it to everything else you’ve had to suffer through on this night. You watch as the monk’s allies, the ones who had attacked everyone on the platform, wake up, but before they can do or say anything, the box holding Satoru Gojo slips through the monk’s fingers and makes a dent in the concrete. The look on the monk’s face makes it clear that it’s a problem he wasn’t expecting.
You don’t know a damn thing about Satoru Gojo, but you feel like this kind of thing is the norm for him.
The blue haired person suddenly looks in your direction and you nearly stop breathing. Have they noticed you? It takes everything in you to keep perfectly still, in hopes that maybe they didn't, that maybe they’re looking at something else. They raise their arm and it extends, their hand acting like some kind of projectile. You almost shut your eyes and brace yourself for impact, but their hand flies upwards and hits something on the ceiling, destroying it.
Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief— you’re still safe.
For now.
You listen to their following conversation and while you still don’t fully understand everything, it’s clear they’re talking about what to do next since they’ve taken care of Satoru Gojo. Something having to do with someone named Yuji Itadori? The group seems split on what to do about him but it’s clear he’s their next target.
Eventually, everyone but the monk (you heard the blue haired person, who is apparently named Mahito, call him Geto?) runs off, probably to find this Yuji Itadori person. Once they’re gone, Geto speaks and, at first, you think he’s talking to you, but it becomes clear he’s addressing someone else. “Those cursed spirits are actually smarter than the two of you.”
“Give him back!” a voice hidden among the crowd hisses. Your blood runs cold at the sound. You recognize it; it’s one of the high school girls from the upper floor.
“We cooperated with you fully and kept dropping monkeys for you,” says another voice; it must be the other girl that was with her, the one who hung all those people.
“Now give us back Master Geto’s body like you promised!”
“Don’t toy with Master Geto any further than you have!”
You blink in confusion. Isn’t the monk named Geto? The way the girls are talking it sounds like they’re talking about someone else… Is it possible that the body is ‘Geto’ but the person they’re talking to is someone else possessing it? It sounds kind of crazy, but then again, so is every single thing you’ve experienced tonight.
Your suspicions concerning this ‘Geto’ are confirmed only seconds later as he says, “Now begone, or is it your desire to be killed by this body?”
One of the girls vows her revenge and you hear shuffling somewhere else in the crowd as they scurry away. Now you think it’s just you and whoever it is that’s puppeting Geto’s body. You see him plop down in front of the box (the prison realm, you think he’d called it) that’s holding Satoru Gojo.
“You can come out, you know,” he says after a while.
You freeze. The rest of the platform is completely silent. This time you think he might actually be talking to you.
“I know you’re there,” ‘Geto’ adds, his voice casual. “If you’re insistent on hiding, you should know that I’m not afraid of using whatever means necessary to smoke you out.”
Given everything his allies have done, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s serious. You were hoping to hide out among the crowd until he decided to leave, but it looks like you won’t be able to now.
Looks like this loop is a bust after all.
Your heart starts to race as you weave your way through the crowd. In every single one of your loops, you were always treated like a bit character, never noticed or singled out by any of the major players of the night. Although this is your first time encountering this ‘Geto’ it’s clear to you that he’s involved with everything that’s happened here and honestly, you get the feeling he might actually be the mastermind behind the massacre.
That makes you even more nervous.
You come to a stop in the place where Satoru Gojo was once kneeling before he was put in that box. Now that you’re out in the open, ‘Geto’ looks you over with some sort of nonchalant curiosity.
“You’re…” he starts, sounding thoughtful, "not a sorcerer, are you?”
Sorcerer. You heard that term thrown around by him and his group a few times. It’s what they’ve been referring to their enemies as. It probably wouldn’t be smart to lie and say you are one; you get the feeling he’d see through your lie anyway. “I’m not.”
He hums. “How interesting.”
“...what do you mean?” you ask before you can help yourself.
“It’s just you have an abnormally large amount of cursed energy for a non-sorcerer,” he explains. “Though, I suppose that all just sounds like gibberish to you."
You nod and look down at the box lodged in the floor. It has eyes, big creepy looking eyes. "...are you going to do the same thing to me as you did to that man?"
He laughs, "...fortunately for you, the prison realm only holds one person at a time and I need him sealed away more than you."
"...does that mean you're going to leave him in there forever?"
"If I'm feeling nice, I might unseal him in a hundred years or so."
One hundred years? At this point, you've probably lived roughly that amount of time through your loops alone, but for Satoru Gojo… "Won't he die first?"
"Only if he decides to," 'Geto' says, looking completely and wholly unbothered. "Time doesn't doesn't flow in the box, so when I unseal him, he'll be the same as he was just now. Physically anyway. Who knows how deteriorated his mind will be after all that."
Time doesn't flow in the box.
The words echo in your mind over and over. Time doesn't flow in the box. In other words, that means time has stopped in the box, and if that's the case then—
"Anyway, rather than worry about him, shouldn't you be more worried about yourself?"
You look at 'Geto' and he's smiling at you, it's friendly, but ominous. There's no doubt what is going to happen next, though you had already resigned yourself to this iteration being a bust; it was only a matter of time.
Time doesn't flow in the box.
"I was thinking I might keep you around, even if you aren’t a sorcerer, your wealth of cursed energy would serve my plans well," he muses. "But… it would be too much trouble trying to teach you how to use it in time."
As he talks, you realize this is probably the first time your death is intentional— every other death you've suffered has just been a byproduct of the ongoing slaughter. You were just another casualty, a victim, never a target.
You're scared.
Even though you know that once he kills you, once you die, you'll just loop back to around 8:30 again. You'll be on the platform again. And you'll play out some sequence of events before you eventually die again. And again and again.
Time doesn't flow in the box.
"I'll be nice, though," 'Geto' says, raising a hand and another monster appears out of nowhere. You don’t even bother trying to figure out from where. It doesn’t matter, especially since this monster will surely be the one to end your life. "I'll make it painless."
"...I appreciate it," you say and close your eyes hoping that he's not lying about it.
Time doesn't flow in the box.
He didn't lie.
You die again.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
And you're trapped.
You don't know how and you don't know why, but you are stuck in a time loop— forced to suffer through the horrific events of the night before you die and begin it all again. It's been a long time since you stopped counting how many loops you've gone through, but if you had to guess, it's probably somewhere in the hundreds now.
You are so very tired.
But it doesn't stop. It won't stop no matter what you seem to do. You are stuck. You are trapped. You are doomed.
“Time doesn't flow in the box.”
Ever since that first loop where you heard whoever is possessing Geto's body say that, the words have been stuck in your head, playing on loop.
You finally realize why.
“Time doesn't flow in the box.”
It's 8:25PM when you wake up; that should be plenty of time.
You need to find Satoru Gojo.
After hundreds of loops you've come to a singular conclusion: you need to prevent him being sealed in the prison realm. You've witnessed it enough to know that you won't be able to do it alone; you'll need his cooperation.
You rush upstairs as fast as you can, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine as you step onto the stairwell. According to your previous loops, Satoru Gojo arrives on the subway tracks at 8:40PM. With how crowded the upper floor is, you don’t know if you’ll have the time to intercept him and talk to him, but if you can at least figure out where to find him, then you can try and talk to him during a subsequent loop.
When you reach the fourth basement floor, however, you don’t know where you should even start. He’s pretty tall so you think you could spot him in the crowd, but… there are still so many people. It occurs to you that maybe it would be better to try and look from a higher vantage point so you head to the stairs that lead up to the third basement floor. You check your phone again. It’s 8:35PM; you need to hurry.
Luckily for you, you find him very easily on the third basement floor.
The only problem is that he’s in a hard to reach spot— squatting above a sign hanging over the crowd.
You check your phone again. It’s 8:38PM and he’s starting to move, presumably to meet with those waiting for him on the subway tracks. It’s good that you found him, but there’s no doubt about it.
You’re going to need more time.
The moment you wake up, you immediately bolt toward the stairs. It's taken many, many more loops, but you've finally brought the time you wake down to around 8:15. You're still not sure if it's enough time, but there's only one way to find out.
You barrel your way up to the next floor and zig zag through the crowd to get to the next flight of stairs. By the time you get to your destination, you're completely out of breath, your chest heaving as your lungs clamor for air. You’ve done this so many times, yet your body acts like it’s always the first. It sucks, but there’s nothing you can do about it. You slow to a brisk pace to catch your breath and check the time. It’s 8:27— a new record. Hopefully it’ll be enough.
The goal is to catch Satoru Gojo before he moves to his lookout point above the crowd. While not impossible, it would be difficult for you to follow him there. You eye the safety barricade that blocks off the area where he’ll be moving in just a few minutes warily.
Yes, getting over there would be extremely difficult.
You don’t want to think about it right now; you’ll deal with it when the time comes.
Especially since Satoru Gojo has now entered your field of vision.
Your heart starts to race at the sight of him and it feels like it’s beating a million times a second. There isn’t a lot of time. You need to talk to him, but your legs only wobble, your feet planted firmly to the ground. This is not good. You need to move. You need to move.
Finally, after what feels like both an instant and an eternity, your feet finally budge, propelling you in Satoru Gojo’s direction. The beating of your heart only grows louder as you make your way toward him, mingling with the single thought that’s echoing throughout your mind right now: will he even hear you out?
You need to make him.
“Excuse me!” The words nearly come out in a stutter as you realize that you are actually talking to Satoru Gojo. You have watched this man at a distance for so long that it almost felt like he wasn’t real, like he was just another fixture in this nightmare that you’ve been living for far too long. And yet, here he is, right in front of you, in the flesh.
And his attention is on you.
All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is actually a little overwhelming. Your mouth is dry and suddenly you don’t know what to say, but you need to say something. You need to say something before he thinks maybe you bumped into him by accident and just walks away without a word.
“I need to talk to you!” The words just burst out from your mouth and something about it is just absolutely embarrassing. You’re not sure if it's desperation or the fact that you haven’t really talked to anyone other than the existence occupying Suguru Geto’s body in nearly forever.
Satoru Gojo’s lips slowly start to form a smile, “Oh, yeah?”
The sound of his voice makes your mind go blank. There’s something different about it right now; more playful, amused even. Maybe it’s because he’s talking to you, a harmless human being and not a monster trying to kill him. It’s almost kind of jarring, but you know, with certainty, what Satoru Gojo’s voice sounds like. And the fact that he’s actually talking to you right now has you kind of excited. You nod, doing your best to not show how thrilled you are that he’s not ignoring you.
He hums thoughtfully, “Sorry… but unfortunately I kind of have some business to attend to right now.”
“I—” You start to say that you know that he’s headed down to the platform below to fight with…Choso and Jogo, you think their names are— you don’t know the name of the monster with the branches for eyes. “It’s— it’s really important!”
Gojo tilts his head a little, clearly thinking. You should probably say something else, something to try and convince him to stay a little longer and hear you out, but your mind is both full and blank. Where do you start? From the beginning? Or do you start with what is most important? Maybe you should say what you think will get his attention. You’re not sure, and you realize you really should have thought about this earlier because you’re running out of time right now.
“...mind handing me your phone?”
You stare at Gojo, completely and wholly confused, but he just holds out his hand expectantly. When you don’t move, he wiggles his fingers a little, a silent gesture telling you to hurry it up. Without thinking, you reach into your bag and unlock your phone before handing it to him.
“Kind of sucks that cell service isn’t working right now,” he remarks as he types something into your phone before handing it back. “But! Here's my number.”
You look down at your phone and, sure enough, Satoru Gojo has added himself as one of your contacts. He’s even added a little star to the end of his name. That’s… a little unexpected. Why his number though?
“Are you… hitting on me?” you mutter in your confusion.
He laughs, “Well, you said you had something really important to talk to me about, right? So just give me a call when you get home or some time tomorrow and we can talk then!”
You’re not going to make it home, or even to tomorrow, and neither will Satoru Gojo. As you start to tell him this, he steps past you. Desperate, you try to grab him, but somehow, for some reason, you can’t. You remember he did this with Jogo and the other monster, made himself untouchable.
This is not good.
He gives you a little wave, cheery as he says, “I’ll talk to you later!”
You watch, helpless as he hops over the barricade beyond your reach.
Gripping your phone tightly, you take a deep breath. It's fine, it's not like you didn’t expect things to go well anyway.
You'll just have to try again.
Every time you’ve tried to solicit help from Satoru Gojo, it has gone the same way. He just won’t give you the time of day, and in some ways you can’t blame him; he’s clearly here to deal with the monsters down on the platform. You’re fairly certain that he probably thinks that whatever is going on with you is a much lesser issue in comparison.
Plus, it probably doesn’t help that in the times that you’ve approached him, you haven’t been able to articulate yourself particularly well. Once you start talking to him, you just get hit with something akin to stage fright and the connection between your mind and your mouth just stops working. It’s gotten better with each attempt, but…
It’s just so frustrating.
It is interesting that Gojo has given you his number every time, star symbol and all. You’re not sure what kind of person you were expecting him to be, but after witnessing him literally and viciously rip monsters apart, you’d figured he’d be a little more somber. However, in the fragmented conversations you’ve had with him he’s come off as far more friendly and playful than you would have thought. Is he the type of person to get more serious when the situation calls for it? You can’t help but wonder, but ultimately, it doesn’t really matter.
What really matters is that you’re able to convince him to help you.
You have to convince him.
“Excuse me!” you say, stepping in Satoru Gojo’s path. You don’t stutter this time, and your voice is more sure. This is good.
“Yes?”
His head turns in your direction and you gulp. Gojo’s gaze, despite that blindfold of his, still feels just as overwhelming as it did the very first time you approached him. You have no doubt that he’s sizing you up, but there’s just something about it that makes you feel like you’re being picked apart.
You take a deep breath and step closer to him, hoping your voice sounds firm enough as you say, “I need your help. I’m trapped.”
He chuckles a little, “I know, but yours truly is on his way to go beat up the bad guys keeping you all trapped here, so soon enough you’ll be all free to go on your merry little way.”
Right. You were so caught up in your own plight that you nearly forgot that technically you’re not the only one ‘trapped.’ Satoru Gojo obviously knows that everyone else is confined to this station, but you doubt he knows that you’re confined to this night alone.
“That’s not what I mean!” you sputter.
“Then what do you mean?” Gojo asks. Should you tell him that you mean that you’re trapped in a time loop? You’re honestly not sure— in the movies and manga you’ve read about time travel, revealing that sort of thing risks creating a time paradox which seems to be a bad thing. If you have to tell him, you will, but— “Oh, I get it.”
You stare, bewildered. Did you maybe just spew all of that aloud?
Gojo gives you a mischievous smile. “You’re hitting on me, aren’t you?”
“No!” The word comes flying out of your mouth. You can’t deny he’s attractive— you’ve thought it all this time, but that is not what’s happening here.
“No need to be embarrassed,” he continues, ignoring you. “I totally get it, so if you want, I’d be happy to give you my number!”
Again? You’ve received Satoru Gojo’s contact details in every loop you’ve talked to him, star symbol and all— you even have his number memorized. There’s something kind of odd about how he keeps giving you his number. Part of you wonders if he’s got some sort of ulterior motive, but you haven’t thought too deeply about it. There are way more important things going on.
“I don’t need your phone number,” you say. “I need to talk.”
Your response seems to give Gojo pause. Did you somehow manage to get through to him? No way. Your suspicions are all but confirmed when he gives you that familiar apologetic smile.
“Like, I said, I’m sort of in the middle of something, but…” Gojo reaches into his pockets and rummages around until one hand fishes out a folded up piece of paper. The other hand keeps digging around in his pocket and when Gojo seems to give up on whatever he’s looking for, he turns his attention back to you. “Got a pen?”
What?
Gojo tilts his head. “Well?”
“I do, but…” You trail off, unsure why he’s asking.
He holds out his hand waiting for you to just hand him the pen. You still don’t get it, but you reach into your bag’s front pocket and pull out the pen and hand it to him. Gojo looks almost like an excited child when he takes it from you, quickly scribbling something onto his paper before shoving it and your pen back into your hand.
You look at the paper; it looks like a receipt. For a disturbing amount of mochi that Gojo bought earlier today. The amount of money he spent is almost sickening; way too much to be paying for mochi. More importantly, you notice something juxtaposed over the receipt’s print.
It’s Satoru Gojo’s name and number.
He even drew a little star next to his name.
“If you change your mind later, just give me a call!” he tells you cheerily. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while!”
You gawk at him. He cannot be serious. You literally just told him that you didn’t need it and yet he still gave it to you. He must want you to contact him later, but you can’t even begin to understand why. It can’t have been something you said or did, right? Unless, he’s actually—
“Later!” Gojo’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you notice him walking off with a wave.
You can’t let him get away.
Again.
You crush the receipt in your hand and rush after him. Despite the crowd, Gojo seems to move through the people with ease and it almost seems like they are yielding to him naturally. It’s good for you. Makes him easier to chase.
“Wait!” you yell, but Gojo doesn’t even look back. Bastard. Your muscles strain as you try to run faster. You know you won’t be able to grab him if you get to him, but there has to still be something you can do to stop him. Circle around him? Cut him off before he—
Satoru Gojo reaches the barricade.
“Wait!” you yell again. “Satoru Gojo, wait!”
He does not even acknowledge you.
You’re almost there though. Almost. If you reach out your hand, then maybe, maybe you can grab him. Something in your head tells you that it’s useless; you’ve never been able to touch him. But, you don’t care, you don’t care because you have to try. You stretch out your hand, desperate and hoping, but just as you do, Gojo effortlessly jumps over the barricade, moving to survey the crowd.
Due to your momentum, you almost collide into the barricade, but you manage to stop yourself. You stare at Satoru Gojo through the glass. He watches the crowd for at most three minutes. Is this just another bust? Is there really nothing you can do? There must be a way you can get his attention. Is it possible to climb over the barricade? No, it’s too high. There’s nothing you can grasp onto or use as footing either.
This fucking sucks.
Another minute or two and Gojo will be on the move again, and there will be no way you can follow, no way you can get his attention. You press your hands against the glass, pushing against it. Naturally, it doesn’t budge. Why would it? If only you could get it out of the way. If only you could break it. This stupid barricade is the only thing between you and Satoru Gojo and there’s no way you can climb it, but if only you could break it.
If only you could fucking break it.
Suddenly, the glass feels warm. Satoru Gojo’s image starts to look a little distorted as the warmth beneath your fingers grows. Something is happening. The glass starts to vibrate and shake. Violently. The tremors grow stronger and stronger. You should stop. You should back away.
You don’t.
The barricade starts to crack and fracture and soon the sound of shattering glass resounds throughout the entire room. Everyone starts screaming. No one knows what’s going on— not even you. But you don’t care. It’s gone. The barricade is gone.
You take a step forward, toward Satoru Gojo. He’s on a beam that’s about a two meter drop from where you’re standing. That’s fine. That’s okay. You can make it. You have to. Without a second thought, you jump—
And you land on the beam. You look up and Satoru Gojo’s attention is back on you. He’s finally, finally turned toward you, face twisted into an expression you can’t decipher or even comprehend, but—
Something’s wrong; your world is turning on its axis, but—
Satoru Gojo is looking at you, and—
Up is very quickly becoming down, and—
Satoru Gojo is coming closer, but—
You’re slipping—
But he’s right there, and—
You’re falling, but—
He’s trying to catch you, but—
It’s too late. It’s too late.
The last thing you think you feel—
—is Satoru Gojo’s arms around you.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
And you are causing a commotion.
“Shit! Fuck!” you curse loudly. The people near you start to shift away but you barely notice; you don’t really care.
You were so close, so fucking close and yet… yet here you are again. It’s quarter past eight and you are back on the goddamn platform. You don’t know what happened; you remember falling and thinking you were going to die, but you are absolutely certain that, once again, this time, you didn’t die.
Is Satoru Gojo at fault again? Did he do something? Like he did all those other times you looped without dying? When you think about it more, you don’t think so. You don’t know what happened; all you know is that you tried to get to him, but you slipped.
And he caught you, you definitely remember that.
You still don’t understand why you looped, but there’s not much you can do about it now; it’s not like you can go back anymore. It just sucks, because you think he might have actually listened if you’d talked to him.
Or he would have come after you for… whatever happened with the barricade. It could have been taken as an attack on the crowd… But if he thought you were doing that, then why would he catch you?
You don’t know.
All you know is that you have to try again.
The only problem is that you don’t know how you managed to shatter the barricade. You think about it as you make your way up to where you’ll find Satoru Gojo. There is the possibility that it wasn’t you and something else happened to it instead, but that feels way too coincidental. It had to be you. That’s the only thing that makes sense. You just can’t figure out how you did it outside of wanting, wishing, praying for the barricade to break. It’s not like you have supernatural powers like Satoru Gojo and his enemies.
Despite your mind being completely and wholly occupied by trying to figure out how in the world you managed to break through that barricade, you still manage to make it to the second basement floor of Shibuya Hikarie by 8:25PM— a brand new record. Satoru Gojo doesn’t show up until around 8:34PM, so that gives you almost ten minutes to try and figure out what you need to do to try and replicate shattering the glass barricade again.
Except—
Except Satoru Gojo is already here.
The thought that maybe you’re mistaken flashes in your mind before it’s quickly dismissed; there’s no way you’d mistake anyone else for him. There is absolutely no denying it: that is Satoru Gojo. Bewildered, you double check the time on your phone. Maybe you misread it and you’re actually late but sure enough you read it right— Satoru Gojo is here early.
What the hell is going on?
Of the thousands of times you have experienced this night, this hell, this sort of thing has never happened before. Everything happens at a specific time, as if adhering to an unseen schedule. It’s likely that what happened in your last iteration did delay Satoru Gojo’s arrival onto the platform, but other than that there has never been a deviation to the time table.
And yet, here Satoru Gojo is, nine minutes early now.
You realize that that’s not the only thing that’s strange: he’s not moving. In previous rounds, when you encounter Gojo here, he’s walking to the lookout spot beyond the barricade. But, right now, he’s just standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. It almost looks like he's waiting for something.
Or someone.
This unexpected turn of events has you rooted to the spot. You’re not sure what you should do. No. This shouldn’t change anything. You need to talk to him. As concerning as a change like this is, the extra time it gives you should be a good thing. Despite knowing that, your feet are still firmly planted to the ground.
The crowd shifts and you see Satoru Gojo start to move. Toward the barricade? No. He’s not heading in his usual direction, rather he’s—
You stop breathing.
He’s headed toward you.
All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is absolutely mind numbing.
He comes to a stop before you, lips curled up to form an amused sort of smile as he says, “Soooo, you needed to talk to me?”
You try to answer but no words come out of your mouth. Are you dreaming? You have to be, right? There's no way that this is actually happening. Could it be that, after thousands of loops, you’ve finally lost it? Your mind shattering along with the glass of the barricade at the end of the last one?
Gojo tilts his head, indicating that he's still waiting for an answer. When you open your mouth, at first, nothing comes out, the words stuck in your throat. You force them out, your voice cracking, “...how did you know?”
He smiles, looking almost mischievous as he reaches up and lightly taps the side of his head. “I remembered, of course!”
All you can do is stare at Satoru Gojo. He remembered? How is that possible? From his perspective, this is the first time you’ve met and while it shouldn’t be possible for him to remember there’s something in your mind that’s keeping you from completely dismissing the possibility.
Gojo laughs, “I take it from the look on your face that you’re not used to this sort of thing happening. Is this the first time?”
“No.” The fact that the word is out of your mouth before you can even really think about it surprises you and you really have to think. Your face scrunches together as you try to remember. Is this really not the first time? Then, the memories assault you, overlapping as they replay simultaneously in your head— a woman in a yellow and white magical girl costume— begging you for help as she burns to death— smiling as she tells you she made her costume herself. “...it happened just once a long time ago.”
“‘A long time ago,’ huh. Sounds like you've been at this for a while now.”
“...unfortunately.”
Gojo hums. “So when you said you didn’t need my phone number…”
“You’d already given it to me a few times,” you say, figuring that’s where this conversation is going.
“Really now?”
Does he not believe you? Or is he just being an ass? You’re not sure, but since you had taken the liberty of memorizing Satoru Gojo’s phone number you recite it back to him to prove your point.
Just when you think you may have stunned Gojo into silence he starts to laugh, obviously finding something funny about the fact that you know his cell phone number. “Seems like you've got quite the fascinating technique there.”
Technique? What is he talking about? Your confusion must be plain on your face because he adds, elaborating, “The time travel.”
You continue to stare at him. You don't think you'd consider what you've been going through time travel, because traveling implies moving from point A to point B, but you've been stuck walking in circles at point A for a long time. What really gets you is… “What do you mean by ‘technique?’”
“You mean you don’t— oh. I get it; no wonder you’re trapped.”
That does not answer your question in the slightest. “Can you please explain what you're talking about? What do you mean by ‘technique?’”
“Right, right… So basically, a technique is like a special sort of power,” he finally explains. “Like I said, your technique seems to be a kind of time travel. Whenever you activate it, your mind is sent back in time.”
What he's saying makes sense, but… “How come you were sent back too?”
He laughs again. “Isn't it obvious? Think back to before— do you remember that I caught you as you were falling?”
You nod slowly. The memory of his arms around you is almost embarrassingly vivid. “...is it because we were touching?”
“Ding, ding, ding! That's correct! Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!”
Something about his tone annoys you, but you try to ignore it. He could have just told you rather than make you guess. “How do you know that for sure?”
“Well,” he continues. “You’ve done your little time loop a bunch of times, right? If your technique affected everyone, or even a few people in a select range you would have noticed for sure. And if it affected only just you then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, now would we?”
When you think about it, you do think that the woman in the magical girl costume might have bumped into you before the loop where she remembered.
“That’s honestly just conjecture, but I've got pretty good eyes, so I’m hardly ever wrong.”
Gojo gives you a grin and while you do think that his reasoning is sound enough his confidence is a little grating. More than that, though, you’re glad that this conversation is actually going really well.
“Either way,” he says thoughtfully. “It doesn’t look like you can control your technique. Usually a person’s technique manifests when they’re a kid, but you seem to be a special case… in fact, I bet your technique activated for the very first time tonight— probably under some pretty extreme circumstances, too.”
“...dying counts as an ‘extreme circumstance,’ right?”
“Oh, absolutely. Or legitimately thinking that you’re gonna die, but it seems like your body has been unconsciously activating your technique as a sort of defense mechanism. Which is why you’re trapped.”
“So, if I could control it I’d be able to make it out of this time loop.”
“Yeah, but in this case it probably wouldn’t end very well for you,” he points out with a chuckle. “It’s not like you actually want to die, right? I mean, if you did, then your technique wouldn’t even activate in the first place.”
You don’t; what you want is for this night to finally end. To be free from the endless cycle of dying over and over again and again. You don’t think death is quite the answer; even if you were to learn how to control this supposed technique of yours, there’s no guarantee that you would just unconsciously activate it when the grim reaper comes knocking on your door. No, the answer is…
“Anyway!” Gojo’s cheery voice cuts through your thoughts. “I highly doubt that you’re the type that makes a habit of jumping off ledges for the funsies, so the fact that you’ve been dying tells me that some pretty gruesome stuff is about to go down, so, tell me what happens tonight.”
The sudden drop of his voice sends a shiver running down your spine. If it weren’t for the fact that you’ve seen how serious Gojo can get, the sudden shift in demeanor would probably freak you out a bit, but it doesn’t. This is the Satoru Gojo you’re familiar with.
You do have one concern though. “That… won’t create a time paradox or anything, will it?”
“Nah,” Gojo shrugs. “You wouldn’t cause one with the way your technique works, besides, if you’ve only been going back at most an hour or two in time it’s hard to believe you’d be making a really big impact… unless you really believe in the butterfly effect.”
You’re still not quite sure.
“Trust me, it’ll be fine.”
His voice sounds strange. Gentle. Kind. It's the most soothing thing you've heard in a long time and it makes you want to believe him.
“...okay.”
Anxiety is still gripping at you, but you try to dispel it, taking a deep breath before beginning your explanation. For the sake of brevity, it’s probably best that you’re as concise as possible. There isn’t much need to really get into the nitty gritty of things unless he asks specifically.
Naturally, you begin with his arrival onto the platform and how soon after a fight breaks out and how the crowd is unfortunate enough to be involved. Gojo’s expression is passive for the most part, but he does crack the faintest hint of a smile when you mention how he manages to eviscerate one of the monsters.
It disappears once you tell him about the arrival of the train. Between the dozens upon dozens of people being dropped onto the platform by those two high school girls and the hoard of monsters disembarking from the train, everything devolves into pandemonium.
“Wait,” Gojo holds a hand up and you pause. This is his first interruption since you started recounting the night’s events for him. “Everyone is able to see the monsters?”
You stare at him. What a weird question. “...yeah?”
His mouth twists and it looks like he’s thinking about something. You can’t even begin to imagine what. Finally, he comments, “Makes sense.”
It does not, but you don’t ask him to elaborate. Surely if it was important he would have just done so.
“Anyway, in the middle of all that, you… you do something.” Your brows bunch together as you remember the stance Gojo took, the crazed and desperate look in his eyes, the feeling of your head about to explode. “I don’t know how to describe it. At first, it would just force me to… activate my technique, I guess. But now, it just knocks me out for a few minutes.”
Gojo frowns and he rubs at his chin, obviously thinking about what you’ve said. Eventually, he raises a hand and bends his fingers into a familiar gesture. It’s the one that preludes whatever he does on the platform. “Do I do this?”
“Yeah.”
He hums. “Interesting.”
You wait to see if he’ll explain. He doesn’t. Great. Even if he doesn’t think you need to know, it certainly would be nice to. It’s annoying otherwise, but you ignore the feeling and continue. “I can’t tell you what happens when I’m knocked out, but when I come to everyone is basically a zombie and all the monsters from the train are gone. I think you kill them.”
“I probably do,” he says casually. “But what about Volcano Head?”
“...you don't…get a chance to kill him,” you say slowly. Gojo tilts his head, waiting for you to elaborate, but you hesitate. You have to tell him, you know you do, but…
You have seen the interaction so many times and though you don't know the exact nature of the relationship between them, you can tell that seeing Suguru Geto (or rather seeing his body) shook Satoru Gojo to his very core.
There's no doubt in your mind that he will not take this news well.
“Come on now,” Gojo's tone is light-hearted, unaware. “Don't keep me in suspense here.”
It's as if you're withholding the punchline to a joke. In a way, you suppose you are, but you don't think he's going to find it funny.
You take a deep breath. You need to tell him. The worst thing that could happen is that he doesn't believe you, but if that's the case… you'll probably just end up repeating this all again until you find a loop where he does.
Having made it this far, you'd like to avoid all that.
“Before you can get Volcano Head you get restrained by something called the prison realm,” you say slowly, “by someone calling themselves… Suguru Geto.”
The second the name leaves your mouth, there is a clear and obvious shift in the air. Gone is Gojo’s laid-back and frivolous demeanor, replaced with something more somber and almost frightening. The tension grows more and more palpable to the point that you think it might almost choke you.
You almost wish that it would.
“You can’t be serious,” Gojo finally says, once your words have fully sunk in.
“I—” You start to speak, but come to an abrupt stop when you see him shove his hand into his pocket to yank out his phone of all things.
The both of you know full well that there’s no reception here, but you don’t think that he’s planning on making any calls. Gojo scrolls and scrolls on his phone before he stops and shoves the screen in your face. It shows a picture of three people— a teenage girl with a cigarette in her mouth, a younger, happier version of Gojo sporting a pair of round sunglasses and—
“When you say ‘Geto’ is this who you’re referring to?” Gojo demands, using his other hand to point at the third person in the frame— a handsome young man with long dark hair pulled up into a bun.
“Yes, but—”
“That’s impossible. It can’t be him,” Gojo interrupts, his voice firm, cold even. “He’s dead.”
There’s a note of finality in his words that is definitely meant to leave no room for argument. It doesn’t stop you, though. Instead, you glare at Gojo’s stupid blindfold and say, “...being dead doesn’t mean a damn thing! I’ve died hundreds of times and yet I’m still fucking here, but—”
“Your situation is different,” he interjects, the temperature of his tone hiking up, his words like heated hissing. “I killed him almost a year ago. There's no way—”
“You didn't get rid of the body properly!” You cut him off, raising your voice in hopes that he'll take even just a second to stop and listen. It seems to work and you add something you remember ‘Geto’ saying. “You should have had Shoko Ieiri get rid of it, but you didn’t and now some… some kind of gross brain thing is possessing the corpse!”
The air between you both is silent as the grave. Though you can't see it, you can feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. He’s definitely having second thoughts about everything you’ve said so far. There’s a chance he might even think you’re his enemy now. You stare him down though, refusing to look away. You’ve made it this far, you can’t— you won’t back down.
“...you’re not lying, are you.” Gojo’s words are more of a statement than a question. There’s no doubt in your mind that he knows the answer, and yet he’s still asking. You wonder if maybe he’s clinging onto some vain hope that maybe, just maybe this all a sick, cruel joke that’s gone way too far.
“I’m not.”
Gojo holds your gaze for a second longer before he lets out a curse. “Fuck!”
“...I’m sorry,” you say quietly, mostly because it feels like the most correct thing to say at this moment. You don’t know the whole story, but it seems like they were close. If so, then it must have hurt Gojo a lot to have killed him, and must hurt even more to know that someone is desecrating the body. You hate that you, a complete and utter stranger, happened to be the person to tell him, but…
It had to be done, for the sake of getting past this unending night, it had to be done.
Gojo runs a hand through his hair and lets out a ragged sigh. “Okay. What happens after that?”
You give him a rundown of what follows; he gets sealed, the monsters wake up and all but ‘Geto’ leave in search of their next target. When you mention the high school girls demanding the brain give Geto’s body back, Gojo snorts loudly.
“Fat chance of that,” he says derisively.
You nod in agreement. It was clear to you that the brain parasite has no intent on giving it up any time soon. “After they leave, he… talks to me.”
“Probably couldn't ignore all that cursed energy you have,” Gojo remarks offhandedly.
You stare at him, expression twisted in a way that shows that you have absolutely no clue what that means. It should be fine for you to ask this one question; it actually concerns you after all. “What does that even mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like, though… probably doesn't make much sense to you, does it?”
You give him a pointed glare and all Gojo does is laugh.
“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”
“...Like in a video game?”
“Exactly!” Then, Gojo tilts his head, clearly thinking. You don't bother asking; you don't feel like he'll explain.
“He does ask me if I'm a sorcerer, whatever that is. Is that why?”
“Probably. Ordinary people don't have even a fraction of the energy you're packing.”
‘Ordinary people’ he says as if you’re not an ordinary person who got caught up in all this supernatural sorcery bullshit. Or at least you were, but if the time loops are really a product of your own doing…
“Does he kill you when you answer?” Gojo asks to get the conversation back on track.
“Not right away. What happens next kind of varies,” you answer. “He usually lets me have a question or two before he kills me; I've asked him a couple different things.”
“Really taking advantage, aren’t you?” Gojo says and you're not sure what to make of his tone. Is he mocking you or is he easing back into that laid-back persona of his?
“If I’m doomed to repeat the same situation over and over, I might as well make the most of it,” you respond flatly.
“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.”
He’s definitely gone back to acting almost completely unserious— all signs of his earlier agitation are nearly gone.
“So what did you learn?”
“Well, the prison realm only holds one occupant. Once they’re sealed, time stops for them and the only way out is if the bearer unseals them or if they choose to kill themselves.”
“I see… And what about our body jacker?”
“He didn’t go into detail but he said something about… striving toward the evolution of mankind?” You frown a little at the memory. He didn’t explain further because he said that you wouldn’t understand.
“Huh. Interesting. Wonder how he was gonna go about doing that.”
“I don't know, but I can't imagine you'd like it since he goes out of his way to seal you into that box,” you say. “Said you’d get in the way because you’re too strong.”
Gojo shrugs his shoulders and grins a little. Cocky. “Well, I am the strongest sorcerer around, you know.”
You would think him overconfident if you hadn't seen the magnitude of his strength first hand.
“Anyway, that's as far as I ever go. When he's decided he’s done talking to me, he kills me and I loop back.”
“So, in short, what you want help with is getting past that point, right?”
“More or less.”
“And all I have to do is avoid getting caught by the prison realm?”
You nod.
“What’s it look like?” he asks. “A big cage with a bunch of metal bars?”
Now that you think about it, you haven’t woken up early enough to see it before it traps him, but you can’t imagine it looks that much different. “No.. It’s a small box with eyes… It gets big enough to fit you in it, though.”
“Huh.” He stretches his arms out above his head as if he’s trying to emphasize how large he actually is and shoots you a grin. “Should be easy enough then. I bet our body snatcher used the shock of seeing Suguru to trap me but since I'll see it coming, avoiding it'll be a piece of cake.”
Gojo makes it sound so easy, and maybe it really is as simple as that, but you can't help but be worried still.
“Don't tell me you don't think I can do it,” he says, tilting his head.
“It's not that,” you admit. “I'm just concerned I might die before we can get to that point.”
Truthfully, since you know that will just result in another loop you're less concerned with dying itself and more worried about losing the progress you've made in convincing Gojo to help you. Even though it's been clearly proven you can loop him as well, there's no guarantee you'll be able to make the physical contact needed to do it upon death.
“You've made it pretty far on your own, though, right?”
“Yeah, but… I’ve messed up plenty of times.” More than you can even count. “There's also the possibility that taking the time to talk to you might have thrown things out of whack.”
Speaking of time, you check your phone. It's 8:39PM. You curse.
Gojo leans over to check your phone. “Let me guess, I'm supposed to be somewhere right now.”
“Yeah, this is when you’re descending down onto the platform.”
“You know where I am down to the exact minute?” He asks and you tilt your head back and forth a little. It’s not exact per se, but it’s close enough. Gojo chuckles a little. “Man, I didn’t realize that you were actually that into me.”
That earns Gojo a glare from you, but he just laughs it off. “I doubt being a few minutes late is going to make a big difference.”
You certainly hope so.
“Don't worry,” Gojo says and you notice he's using that tone from earlier. “You won't die.”
It’s hard to argue with him when he uses such a reassuring sounding voice and yet, you still open your mouth to try— to voice your doubts, but what he says next silences you before you even can.
“I'll protect you.”
You think your heart stops beating in your chest and your words dissolve in your throat.
He grins at you. “Did you fall in love with me just now?”
That catches you a little off guard. You're willing to admit he's hot, but surely he must be joking. “How could you even think of something like that at a time like this?”
Gojo laughs again. “Well, since someone is so worried about their time table being all messed up, I better head down there; can’t keep Volcano Head and friends waiting, right?”
You blink. Is that it? “Wait, shouldn’t we make a plan or something?”
“Isn’t the plan for me to not get caught in the prison realm?”
Yes, but… “But what about me? Is there anything I can do?”
Gojo stares at you, or at least you think he does. “...I don’t know, is there?”
You’ve seen the encounter between Satoru Gojo and those monsters so many times and you try to picture a version of it where you intervene and… all you can see is yourself getting in his way. You’re no fighter, no… sorcerer, or whatever he is, you’re just some ordinary person that was unfortunate enough to get all caught up in this mess. The most you can probably do is kick the prison realm out of the way when the time comes, but otherwise… “...no, I guess not.”
His expression turns sympathetic. “You’ve done plenty by telling me everything that happens. So just wait up here, and let me handle the monsters.”
You almost nod. Almost. But then you remember what transpires up here above the platform. You know it sounds safer up here where you’re less likely to get involved in the carnage, but… “Wait, no, if I stay up here then I’ll fall to my death when those girls—”
Gojo laughs, interrupting you. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll be fine.”
“How?”
“Just trust me.”
“I…” It’s hard to. After everything you’ve gone through it’s hard to trust in anything, to believe in anything. Even though you’ve made it this far this time, the worry that something will go wrong and that you’ll have to do it all again still lurks in the back of your mind.
Despite all that, you want to believe.
You want to believe that you can make it past this unending night, that one day you’ll wake up and it’ll no longer be October 31, 2018. And the first step towards that is trusting in Satoru Gojo.
“...okay,” you say quietly. “Okay.”
Gojo chuckles then asks, “Anything else before I head off?”
You start to ask if there’s anything you should say, in case things don’t work out, but you stop yourself. You’re choosing to trust him, to believe in him— you can figure out that stuff later if things end up going south after all. So, instead you give him a smile and it feels a little weird because you don’t remember the last time you did. “Good luck!”
For a split second, Gojo looks almost surprised, but then he laughs again, beaming widely at you. He starts to move past you and reaches out to give you what you think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder and then he’s off. You turn to watch him go, the crowd, once again, parting almost naturally for him.
When he reaches the barricade, he pauses, raising his hand as if he’s giving you one last wave. Then he jumps over it onto his little perch and then less than a minute later he’s gone, descending to the platform below.
Now, all you can do is wait.
You check your phone again and it’s 8:44PM. If you remember correctly, the high school girls start threatening everyone right before 9PM. With Gojo’s arrival being shifted back almost five minutes, does that mean that they’ll be shifted back too? It would make sense, but you’re not too sure.
Out of habit, you keep checking your phone and at nearly 9PM, you hear the shrill voice of one of the girls over the crowd, commanding everyone to do what she says, her partner stringing up bodies until everyone listens. Everything plays out just as you remember it, which is mildly comforting, though you know that the events that happen up here are more or less independent from what happens below.
Surely, just as Gojo said, a few minutes aren’t going to change anything, but—
No.
You agreed to trust him. To trust that everything would be fine.
When the girls start to demand that as many people as possible climb onto the roots and vines covering the atrium your heart starts to hammer in your chest. In just a few minutes, all the foliage will disintegrate beneath you, and you and everyone else here will fall into the abyss below.
You are afraid.
There isn’t a single loop where you’ve really survived this fall. If you don’t die in midair, you die right after landing. It’s a death trap, and that’s why you’ve stopped coming up here. There’s a part of you, the part that knows what’s about to happen, that wants to try and run back onto stable footing. But you can’t, because you know if you do then the girls will kill you for sure; you have to stay.
It’ll be fine, you tell yourself, it’ll be okay.
You just have to trust Gojo.
An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.
You hear the announcement faintly below you. It’s almost time. You brace yourself and try to stay calm. Gojo said he would protect you, that you wouldn’t die. You don’t know how he intends to keep that promise, but all you can do is believe in his words.
It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.
The vines and roots start to crack and the ground beneath you starts to give out. You squeeze your eyes shut as that sickening weightless feeling overtakes you. It occurs to you that this is actually quite literally a trust fall— will Satoru Gojo really be able to catch you?
As you fall, you realize almost instantly that something is different.
You’ve experienced this fall dozens of times and so, even though it has been a while since you’ve gone this route, you are very familiar with what it feels like. Something is different. You’re falling faster. The trajectory is changing. It’s like some force, other than gravity, is pulling at you.
Is this Gojo’s doing?
Just as your body collides with the ground you hear the sounds of mutilating flesh meld with the screams surrounding you. Blood and severed limbs litter the ground, but you try to ignore it. You need to focus on your own survival right now. Quickly, you scramble to your feet scan the area around you; you’re on the platform right now and right in front of you is—
Right in front of you is Satoru Gojo.
His back is turned to you, his focus currently elsewhere. Looking at him you realize you recognize this scene, though it’s much closer and at a different angle. He’s about to do that thing, that thing that knocks you out.
Something in you tells you to move closer to him, after all, he used his mysterious powers to deliberately bring you closer to him, right? You rush toward him and as you do something he said earlier pops up in your mind.
Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!
Whatever he’s about to do… Is that his ‘technique?’ And if it is, would it work the same way as yours? If so, there’s only one way to find out: you need to touch him. You dodge monsters and other people as you run toward Satoru Gojo and—
A monster still manages to grab you, its large hands wrapping around your wrist. You try and yank it free, but it's much stronger than you are.
“Shit!” you hiss as the monster starts to pull you toward it and away from Gojo. What do you do? Your other hand is still free, should you try to punch it in the face? Or—
Before you can do anything, something blasts the monster’s head clean off. Shocked, you stare as the monster’s body slumps onto the ground, its grip loosening on you instantly. You whip your head around to find that while Gojo still has his back to you, his arm is bent back in your direction, his palm open as if he fired some invisible blast from it.
Then you feel it again, something pulling at you, but this time it's more forceful. Your body is yanked toward Gojo and the second you feel his hand press against you, you see him make that gesture with his other hand.
“Domain Expansion,” he whispers in a strained voice. “Infinite Void!”
Something happens and your vision flashes for a fraction of a second. And then—
The room is enveloped in an eerie stillness; all the violence and bloodshed coming to an abrupt stop. Monsters and humans alike stand like the living dead, unconscious with their eyes wide open as if they are staring into an infinite abyss. You recognize this scene, you’re familiar with it because it’s similar to the one you wake up to after being hit by Gojo’s ‘domain expansion.’ The only difference is the presence of the monsters, who are all but gone when you regain consciousness.
The pressure from Gojo’s hand is gone and he says to you, his voice still low. “If you’re squeamish when it comes to blood and gore, it might be best for you to close your eyes.”
And then he’s gone.
You do not take his advice. You do not close your eyes. How many loops were you unable to witness what’s about to unfold? A few hundred? A few thousand? And if all goes to plan, then you will never get another chance again: there’s no way you could possibly look away.
And what you see unfold before you is that Satoru Gojo was right.
He is the one to kill all the monsters.
It’s not as if you really had any doubt, after all, it seemed like the most logical conclusion to come to and yet…
There’s a difference between knowing and seeing.
All the violence resumes and the platform is engulfed in the sounds of carnage and slaughter once more. The lack of terrified screams makes everything more disconcerting— without them, all you can hear is the squelching echo of mangled flesh and blood splattering all over the place. You can’t really see him, but you can tell where Satoru Gojo is in the crowd as he leaves dozens upon dozens of decapitated heads soaring in his wake. Once or twice, he leaps out of the crowd and even from where you stand you can see the crazed glow of his inhumanly blue eyes as he massacres monster after monster.
Even though you don’t think you have anything to be scared of, you are still terrified: Satoru Gojo is no longer a man, but violence incarnate. You want to move closer to where Gojo gets trapped, but you’re afraid to. What if you get in his way? What if he kills you by accident?
Dying again when you’ve made it this far is definitely not ideal, but isn’t being killed by Gojo the best case scenario? Because then the two of you would probably loop together again and—
No.
Gojo said you wouldn’t die.
He said he’d protect you.
It’s hard to believe when he’s in the middle of a massacre, slaughtering monsters left and right, but you remind yourself yet again that you have to believe in him.
You take a deep breath and start moving, taking care to keep an eye on where Gojo is. You don’t know how long this is supposed to take, but you do know where he ends up when he’s just about done. The closer he gets to that spot, the sooner the prison realm will be unleashed upon him.
There’s a small group of zombified people nearby and you settle yourself among them. It’s not super close, but you think it's close enough that you'd be able to run over and kick the box away from Gojo if you have to. You do a quick survey to see if you can spot the body snatcher, but he's nowhere to be found. Hopefully, he hasn't noticed you moving around, or, if he has, he's more concerned with Gojo than he is with you. Given that you always seem to be the last thing he acknowledges, you'd like to think that he doesn't consider you a threat.
Which you're not, not really anyway.
The sounds of slaughter start to die down and you look to see Gojo approaching the spot where he gets caught. He looks beat, his eyes unfocused and his breathing heavy. You do another quick scan around him and notice a small box a few meters away from him, wrapped in what looks like paper charms or seals or whatever they're called. That has to be the prison realm— though it looks different than what you saw before. Gojo seems to notice it right after you do, his gaze honing in on it, examining it with some measure of bewilderment. Then, some invisible force slices through all the paper seals covering the box and it expands, the corners of the box floating up in midair to reveal what looks like a large sheet of dark red flesh with a large bloodshot eye stapled to the middle.
Disgusting.
If Gojo didn’t realize before, he seems to now, because he takes a step back, away from the grotesque thing. Good, good—
“Hey! Satoru!” Your blood runs cold at the sound of the body snatcher’s voice. He emerges from the crowd, smiling widely as he gives Gojo a wave. “Long time no see!”
Satoru Gojo’s entire body goes rigid. Shit. You told him, you warned him about what was going to happen, who he was going to see, but was that not enough? It’s possible that no amount of warning would have been enough to mentally prepare Satoru Gojo for the sight of the man he said he killed a year ago. After all, you know that there’s a stark difference between knowing and seeing. Even then, if Gojo doesn’t gather his wits and move now then he’s going to get caught and you can’t let that happen.
Your body moves before you can even think about it.
You scramble out from your hiding spot in the crowd and throw yourself in between Satoru Gojo and the prison realm. There’s no way you can kick it away from him now, not when it’s in this form, but maybe, if you get between them you can at least keep it from capturing him.
The eye quivers erratically, as it flits from Gojo to you. Every hair on your body stands on end as it watches you, the pupil dilating and contracting uncontrollably. You can’t look away from it, your own gaze fixed to your image reflected in the black abyss of the pupil. Something in the back of your mind tells you to stop, to get away, it’s dangerous, but you keep your feet firmly planted to the ground.
A second, or maybe even a minute passes and the prison realm shifts, its fleshy form morphing to restrain you.
The body jacker looks at you, his frown tinged with disgust. “Don’t you think you’re being rather rude by butting into what could have been a touching reunion?”
You scowl. Is he still trying to play the role of Suguru Geto?
He sighs and looks past you at Gojo. “Satoru, I thought bringing lesser sorcerers to fight alongside you was more trouble than it was worth?”
You hear Gojo snort from behind you, “It is… but this person here isn’t a sorcerer… Just like you aren’t Suguru Geto.”
The faker almost pouts and presses his hand to his chest as if Gojo's words have wounded him. “Satoru, I’m hurt, how could you say such a thing to your best friend?”
“Cut the bullshit,” Gojo snarls. “You can’t fucking fool me. You might be in Suguru’s body but I know with all my heart and soul that you’re not him.”
The corpse snatcher stares at Gojo, expression blank before he sighs once more. Then, his gaze shifts back to you, his eyes narrowed as he looks at you with sheer disdain. It feels as if you’ve been drenched in ice cold water. There's no smile this time but you already know what's going to happen.
He’s going to kill you.
“I intended to deal with you later since you seemed harmless enough,” he says, raising a hand to summon a monster— the same one he always uses to end your life. “But you’re in the way. So, I think it’s for the best if I just get rid of you right now.”
Instinctively, you try to take a step back but the prison realm’s restraints keep you in place. Not that it would have mattered much, even in the loops where you’ve tried to escape the faker’s monster, it still kills you, too fast and too agile for an ordinary human like you to avoid. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the monster to kill you. At least, it’s always painless.
Something touches your back.
Your eyes shoot open.
Before you is the monster, wiggling and writhing only mere centimeters from your face. It gurgles and snarls at you, desperate to fulfill its master’s wishes and kill you but it doesn’t move any closer. You stare at it with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.
Someone behind you clicks their tongue— Gojo. You try to turn your head to look at him, but your movements are too limited, the most you can do is turn your head to the side. The sounds the monster is making start to change, sounding more frenzied, almost as if it’s in pain, and you flit your eyes in its direction just in time to see its entire body explode. The monster's guts and bright purple blood fly off in every direction, getting on the floor, the ceiling, the zombified bodies of the people unfortunate enough to be nearby, but not on you.
This is Satoru Gojo’s doing.
He steps in front of you, half turned towards you as he moves in between you and the body snatcher. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he loudly says, “Did you really forget about me?”
You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the body snatcher.
Past him, the imposter scowls, raising his hand once more, probably to summon even more monsters, but Gojo’s quicker, and it almost looks like his eyes are glowing even brighter, the blue looking almost white as he whips his head in the faker’s direction. The sound of mangling flesh and breaking bones echoes throughout the room as Gojo, using that mysterious power of his, seems to break the faker’s arm.
The body snatcher hisses loudly and despite the fact that his face is twisted in very obvious pain, he tries to shoot Gojo a mocking smile. “Do you really think you can kill your best friend again?”
“I already told you,” Gojo turns to fully face the monster inhabiting Geto’s corpse. He tilts his head a little to the side and some force starts to squeeze at the faker’s neck. “You’re not Suguru.”
You hear a loud crack as Gojo telekinetically snaps his neck.
The head rolls onto the ground and you almost look away, but then you notice his eyes still moving, looking around. Is he still alive? Then you remember: the thing possessing Suguru Geto’s body was some kind of parasite. “Gojo! Wait! The brain!”
He reacts almost instantly, head turning and in an instant the skull is crushed and all that remains is red splotch on the ground.
You almost relax. Almost.
But the body is still standing.
Horrified, you watch as it quivers violently before falling to the ground. Then what looks like dozens of black spirits start to erupt from the corpse and the entire room is engulfed with a shrill howling.
What the hell is going on?
“Those must be all the cursed spirits he consumed,” Gojo explains uselessly, voice barely audible over the screaming. “Guess he was empty before.”
You don’t bother asking what he means. There are bigger problems right now. “What do we do?”
“No choice to exorcise them,” he answers plainly.
For him to exorcise them, he means. You both know that there’s not much that you can do. You still can’t move and honestly, you don’t even know if it’s possible to get out of the prison realm’s restraints. Not without dying. And if you die now…
Everything will have been for naught.
You’ll reset time and have to do this all over again— assuming you can even get to this point again.
There has to be something, you just have to think outside the box.
Or rather—
“Gojo!”
He glances back at you.
“You need to seal me in the prison realm!” you exclaim. He turns to face you fully, looking bewildered and you start to explain as fast as you can. “Those things are going to attack any minute right? I can’t move or try to hide and I can’t expect you to protect me the entire time and if I die then I’ll end up looping time again, but— but, if you seal me in the prison realm then that won’t happen.”
Gojo frowns, looking conflicted. “You don’t think I can do it?”
“Wouldn't it be easier if you didn’t have to?”
He tilts head and you think he’s conceding your point.
“Please,” you beg, staring at him desperately. “We don’t have much time. The other… cursed spirits will wake up soon too!”
You don’t have to explain that you mean Volcano Head and friends.
It takes only a second for Gojo to consider the very few options you have. “...how do you seal it? Do you know?”
“I think so,” you answer. “There’s no guarantee it’ll work but I think that if you say ‘prison realm, gate close’ it should seal me inside.”
If anything, it’s worth a shot.
Gojo nods. “Do you know how to break the seal?”
“I… don’t,” you confess. You never asked, and you don’t think the body snatcher would have told you even if you did. He only told you that it holds one and that…
That time doesn’t flow in the box.
“...you don’t have to break the seal.”
Gojo frowns, “Wait a sec—”
“Even if I make it past tonight… What if this all happens again? What if I inadvertently trap myself in another time loop?” you ask. “I… I don’t want to have to go through all of this again. It’s better for me in a place where time doesn’t pass.”
You don’t know for sure if it’ll be better, but right here, right now, it seems like the best option.
It feels like an eternity passes before Gojo says anything.
“...fine,” he agrees and you don’t quite know how to feel about it. The howling around you all grows louder. You wonder why the cursed spirits haven’t attacked yet. Maybe Gojo’s power is holding them at bay… for now anyway. You both know that he can’t ignore them forever.
“...before I do, though, mind if I ask you just one thing?”
You blink. “Not sure what I can do for you in this state…”
He laughs. “I just want to know your name.”
What an odd request. Though, now that you think about it, you don’t think that during this loop or any other loop really, you’ve ever told him your name. It only seems fair to tell him, since you’ve known his for longer than he’s known of your existence.
You tell him your name.
He nods, looking as if he’s committing to memory. Probably easier to remember than his phone number. “Any last words?”
You try to think of something. Nothing comes to mind and you just shake your head.
Gojo takes a deep breath, “Alrighty then… Prison realm, gate close.”
Just as it did the many times you’ve seen Satoru Gojo sealed away, the boxes and restraints around you vibrate a little before they start to close around you, growing large enough to fit your body as they approach.
You won’t see it, but once you’re inside the box will shrink and become small enough to fit in the palm of someone’s hand.
Will it be quiet inside?
In your final seconds, some words, some last words come to mind, and you say them, hoping that he hears them in time. “Thank you, Satoru Gojo.”
You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.
And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black.
It’s November 30, 2018— morning on the campus of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.
Satoru Gojo strides through the school grounds, casually tossing a small silver box with eerie blue eyes known as the prison realm up and down in his grasp. Walking at his side is Shoko Ieiri, a pretty woman who’s been unfortunate enough to have been Satoru’s friend since high school.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shoko asks, twirling a few strands of her long brown hair.
“What do you mean?” Satoru responds nonchalantly. “All my ideas are good ideas.”
Shoko hums in clear dissent, but doesn’t say anything more. Even she knows better than to try and waste her time trying to argue with Satoru. “I’m just worried about their mental state. Didn’t you say that time doesn’t flow in the box?”
“I’d be worried if it was some normal person,” Satoru says. “But after what they’ve gone through I think they’ll be fine.”
“...well, if you say so.”
The two arrive at their destination: the largest training area on the Jujutsu High grounds. Satoru places the prison realm at the center and takes a few steps back with Shoko standing behind him, in case anything happens.
He doesn’t think it will, but it’s always good to take at least a few precautions.
“Gojo, are you sure we should be doing this?” Shoko asks again. “Didn’t they want to remain in the box?”
“Of course I am,” Satoru says with his usual air of confidence before looking back at the prison realm nestled in the grass. He grins and then—
“Prison realm, gate open.”
if you made it this far. thank you. it's my sincerest hope that you enjoyed the ride. 3
#OHHHHHHHH MY GOD.#okokokok this is gonna be. Really Incoherent sorry in advance 🙏🙏 niku this made me…… insane. fully. someone needs to restrain me#one of my favorite gojo fics Ever??? like genuinely????? this was SUCH a pleasure to read i have sm i wanna say :((( hhhhhh#FIRST OF ALLL the higurashi poem…. what a banger <33 i LOVE how it ties in with the ending too but more on that later :33#but it’s also so perfect bc reading this fic rlly did feel like playing a vn in the BEST way possible…. just. seeing all the tiny variation#experiencing the loops along w reader…… it was just SUCH an enjoyable experience i can’t even describe it!!!!!!!!! i’m so floored!!!!!!!!!!#like i ADORE timeloops it’s my favorite trope Ever and this fic was just . a godsend?? perfection??? the best loopfic ive read?????#I’M STILL GOING FULLY INSANE OVER IT BTW it satiated every single craving i have for timeloop content. my brain is leaking endorphins rn 😵#i LOVE the opening lines and the constant reusage of ”It’s the night of October 31 2018— Halloween in Shibuya”…… just so satisfying somehow#and reader’s mental state was also so thoughtfully depicted… it was so easy to insert myself into them but they’re also. rlly charming?#them latching onto gojo as the one anomaly of the timeloop…. fixating on him and his beauty (real as fuck btw)…. and searching for hope!!!#finding hope in gojo!!!! learning to trust him!!!!! :((( it feels kinda like a very twisted one-sided slowburn … and i ate it up.#i also rlly like that it’s not explicitly romantic!!! there’s enough subtext to enjoy a romance aspect but it’s not the Focus yk??#and i like that!!! the focus is on reader and the timeloop and both of those aspects are woven into gojo rlly naturally :>#ok so i’m using that as a segway. bc OFC i need to rant abt gojo fucking satoru and how much i love him and ur take on him 😔😔#every once in a while i’ll find a fic where i’m like. this author knows Gojo Satoru personally. they speak to him on the phone every night.#and this fic is ABSOLUTELY one of those like….. this gojo is Canon to me. i’m so serious abt it like that’s HIM !!!#and it just reminded me of why i love him sm bc this rlly does feel exactly like the gojo from the manga and that’s SO impressive 2 me ….#i’m in awe of u niku. i don’t even know where to begin w gojo bc i loved SO many lines and lil details u put in………. 😵💫😵💫#he’s just. soooooo charming :/// he truly is. he’s beautiful and handsome and he gives you his number every loop . w a star symbol!!!!#asks you for your phone or a pen and gets all excited writing his name… the mochi receipt…. 🥺 he’s so endearing we need to put him Down.#HE’S SO GOODDDDD I CAN’T SAY IT ENOUGH…. his convos with reader were a huge highlight for me and i loved loved LOVED#the moment he finally understands their situation. when they speak and he hears them out and he’s almost gentle. sooo reassuring.#starting to think you’re genuinely gege akutami btw like . gojo is so complex but you just. captured him perfectly???#he’s cocky and playful and teasing and a killing machine and he’s Kind. he’s playful even when you’re a stranger#and when he finally hears you out he speaks softly and says he’ll protect you :((( reader is better than me i would’ve cried LMAO#THE DIALOGUE IS SO GOOD N FEELS SO REAL ”did you fall in love with me just now?” NOOO ….. ☹️☹️☹️☹️ …. (maybe ……..)#ack. he’s the most charming man in the universe my heart was fluttering like crazy this isn’t… normal human behavior………#WAIT i almost forgot …. i too adore the jjk dub and every time gojo spoke i heard kaiji tang in my head <33 10/10 would recommend!!!#writing ✩
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ TALES OF CANDOR (LN4)
pairing: lando norris x f!author!reader
summary: lando’s girlfriend has a secret identity. she’s not quite the girl next door everyone assumed, and he might just be the inspiration for more than just her instagram captions.
warnings: some hate comments
* faceclaim: mélanie, aka wailcester on ig (please imagine her as you see fit)
ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo
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landonorris some days @ home
👤 tagged yourusername
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user i hope ur enjoying ur time off!
user no hate but like what does his gf actually do?
user literally nothing she’s jobless💀
user it’s giving🏅👷♀️
user lando i love u but half naked pics of ur girl isn’t helping how much we dislike her…
user what’s she reading!!!
yourusername a thousand splendid suns by khaled hosseini!!
user ofc u are. i totally believe u acc read well written books. u probably just read gossip columns but want to seem interesting🙄
ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo
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musingsofcandor biscuit approves of the final draft🤍
👤 tagged acatcalledbiscuit
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user HELLO??? CANDOR DOES THIS MEAN WE R GETTING A NEW BOOK
user i love that we know more abt candy’s cat than we do her…
user can’t wait to read it🥹🥹
rickriordan has to be my favorite thing you’ve written!
user RICK’S READ IT??? OH YOU KNOW ITS GOOD
user lando norris in the likes he’s just like all of us fr
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername ‘when she finally got the camera film developed, seeing his face made it all come rushing back’🦋🫧🧚🏻
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user im sorry i know we r meant to be supportive but she annoys me sm. is she just living off of lando’s money?
user omg the caption!!!
user i recognise it, where’s it from?
user it’s from ‘tales of peter rourke’ by candor!!!
user 🤢
user we get it… ur dating someone rich. now get a job!
ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren interview
[captions:
interviewer: what have you been up to in your break?
lando: a lot of lounging around with my girlfriend. read a few books too!
interviewer: anything good?
lando: i’m really into magical reality at the moment! that kind of it’s all normal till it’s not stuff, you know?
interviewer: any good recommendations?
lando: if you like that same genre, i recommend ‘the right side of upside’ by candor! it’s pretty recent, i finished it last week.]
comments
user he likes candor??? he’s so real for that
user KNEW I COULD TRUST HIM
user bad taste in women good taste in books
ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo
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musingsofcandor thank you for all the love lately on ‘the right side of upside’. insane seeing so many of you recommend it, biscuit and i are eternally grateful. love, candy🤍
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user QUEEN DID YOU SEE LANDO RECOMMENDED IT
user CANDY HAS A MAN???
user love u forever ur so talented
user CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU DO NEXT. CANT BELIEVE WE HAVE TO WAIT NOW
musingsofcandor it might be sooner than you think ;)
user UM. candor is this a soft launch?????
ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo
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landonorris got some super helpful race advice today
👤 tagged acatnamedbiscuit, musingsofcandor
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user OH MY GOD MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING
user LANDO WE NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING IS SHE CUTE I FEEL LIKE SHES CUTE
user break up w ur gf and date candor when
musingsofcandor biscuit says he can’t be held responsible for the outcome🐾
landonorris can i hold you responsible instead, candy?
user UHHHH WHATS GOING ON HERE
user i just know y/n is feeling THREATENED
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername all mine
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user LMAOOO U STARTED SWEATING HUH
user candor could steal ur man if she really wanted to
user GIRL YOU’RE SO OBVIOUS
landonorris yours🖤
user STOP LYINGGGG
ੈ✩‧₊˚ an exclusive interview with candor : entertainment weekly
interviewer: so candor! tell us how it really feels having the world at your feet!
candor: [laughing] honestly quite normal! it’s a blessing and a curse, really, not having my identity revealed. i get to live my life without those pressures, but i don’t get to see anyone and thank them for reading!
interviewer: do you ever get the urge to approach someone reading one of your books?
candor: all the time! whenever i go browsing in book stores and see someone looking at or buying mine, i have such a temptation to scream THANK YOU at them!
interviewer: do you see a future in which you reveal your identity?
candor: maybe! there are a few of my fans who know who i am, those who attend the secret events and signings, but i’m very lucky that they all respect my privacy and haven’t shared anything further. perhaps one day soon i’ll finally let everyone in on the secret.
interviewer: and we can’t talk to you and not bring up your cat — or rather, who your cat met the other day…?
candor: oh! i’m assuming you mean lando norris? yes! he’s a pretty good friend of mine, he’s been a big support over the last few years and we found some time in our schedules last week to meet up.
interviewer: so you’re a formula 1 fan?
candor: huge fan! i’m a big mclaren girl so lando and i met through their events!
interviewer: oh fantastic! see folks reading this, she really is just like us!
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername cars going vroom vroom makes my heart go boom boom
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user lmao posting before and after candor’s interview. girl ur not subtle.
user im so sorry but ur clearly so threatened it’s hilarious
user i don’t get all the hate in here??? she’s just in love n happy?
user shes a gold digger
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo
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musingsofcandor told you it wouldn’t be long🫧 ‘thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat’ will be with you next friday. a lot of love poured into this one over the past few years, i just couldn’t wait any longer to give it to you🤍
already a member on my website? check your emails🦋
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user WHDHSJSJSJSJS
user OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING
user THE EMAILLLLL🥹
user candy omg where do you live that looks so pretty!!!!
musingsofcandor monaco !!
landonorris 🖤
user lando using the black heart and candor using the white… i’m sorry to his gf (not really) but they’re meant to be
ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a photo
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user the best day of my life!!! thank you so much candor for being the absolute sweetest human and taking time to talk to each and every one of us! i cannot wait to read thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat🥹🤍
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user YOU MET HERRRRE???
user WHO IS SHE TELL TELL TELL
user candor asks us not to share her identity so i’m gonna respect that but LET ME TELL YOU I WAS SHOCKED
user i recognise her from just that inch of her face but i can’t tell whERE FROM
musingsofcandor it was WONDERFUL to meet you! i hope you enjoy the story🤍
user wish people on twitter were as kind as this,,, there’s photos of her going around :/
ੈ✩‧₊˚ f1wags just posted a photo
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f1wags the internet has been in PIECES after famous author candor’s recent book signing. photos have emerged of the popular anonymous author from the event, revealing her to be none other than LANDO NORRIS’ GIRLFRIEND, Y/N! turns out, she has a job after all👀 (pictures taken from y/n’s instagram!)
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user i… cannot believe this
user see. when y’all were hating on her you were secretly worshipping her
user @ everyone who was an arse to y/n… KARMA IS A BITCH!
user WHAT????
user HOLY SHIT LANDO HAS BEEN DATING MY FAV AUTHOR THIS WHOLE TIME????
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername well. the secrets out. it’s been a long few years, but it’s nice to not have to hold it in any more.
both my accounts will remain active for separate purposes, but i’m excited to be able to introduce you to candor as she is in her whole truth — just like her name suggests🤍
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user ironically this is exactly how i picture marian elsie from thomasine jeffe looking. full fairy
user i am. so sorry. so so so sorry. i know nothing can ever compare for the things we said but i really am
yourusername thank you. no hard feelings on my end🤍
ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo
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landonorris my candy. it may not have been how you intended, but i’m glad i get to show off how proud of you i am.
i’ve watched you as both candor and y/n for a while now, and i love both versions of you entirely. i cannot wait to see what you do now you have the freedom to be whoever you want to.
and hey, pretty cool to be able to say i’m the inspiration behind some of your characters, huh?🖤
ps. so glad i can finally share photos of mY CAT. even if he does hate me biscuit is MINE as well
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user love the clarification that the most important thing to lando is sharing photos of his cat😭😭
user MORE PICS OF BISCUIT PLEASE
user i’ve always been in love with her i can say that confidently
user oh so you’re a successful fanboy
yourusername biscuit told me to tell u ur smelly for using him for likes
landonorris you literally said to me omg i can post about biscuit now YOU FEEL THE SAME DONT LIE
ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo
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musingsofcandor i’ve had a bit of inspiration for some time🤍
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user MOM AND DAD
user i can’t believe this. my worlds are colliding
user I KNEW CAPTAIN ROURKE FELT FAMILIAR IN THE TALES OF PETER ROURKE
user i can’t believe my fav ever love interest is based on lando….
landonorris i love you. thanks for immortalising me🖤
————
a/n: hello hello! another one whilst i recover!
so this was based on an anon request and i have had so much fUN writing it!!!! whilst i don’t normally do requests generally due to being overwhelmed easily, this one stood out to me as i Love books so i was inspired. to the anon who requested, i hope this is what you imagined🤍
in terms of further requests! whilst i can’t promise i’ll do them, if you have any pressing ideas you think would work with my style , do feel free to send them in ! i always love to hear your ideas (and any thoughts on my works!! please send feedback as well!!) and will try gradually to get through some🤍
fun fact: all the book titles are based on actual books i have written hehe
fun fact pt2: yes her pseudonym is chosen bc i watched divergent last night
taglist (found in pinned post): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35
#f1 x reader#f1#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris au#mclaren#lando norris blurb#lando norris scenario#lando norris one shot#lando norris smau
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okay so i was thinking something like rafe always gives like reader butt pats and she’s gotten used to it so much that she can’t go a day without it. so one day rafe doesn’t do it and she automatically thinks he’s mad at her but rafes not he just does the but pats without thinking. so then their whole day goes along with them fighting abt small things till rafe asks her what’s wrong and they make up🤗
🌶️anon!
rafe cameron x fem reader
minors & ageless blogs dni
cw: a bit of angst, a lil bit of comfort in the end. some suggestive content, spanking, reader is an overthinker, reader also isn’t good about talking abt her feelings
a/n: i’m sorry this took so long! i hope i did this justice <33
being by rafe’s side was ninety percent of your daily routine. he’d asked you to move into tannyhill not long after ward passed, and being his loving girlfriend that doted on his every step, you did.
you couldn’t have been happier to spend nearly all of your time with him. rafe treated you like a princess. despite his rough reputation around outerbanks, you knew him to be the most loving man you’d ever met.
he could tell when you were upset, the small tells of you avoiding eye contact and biting down on your bottom lip made it obvious to him when you needed him most. he was usually able to get you back to your sweet and happy self with just focusing his attention on you. his touch, his voice, his presence, it comforted you in ways nothing else could.
rafe always gave you small pats on your ass throughout the day. it was something you’d grown accustomed to and you adored it. it was one of those little things he did that unknowingly made your heart swell. his casual dominance allowed you to turn your brain off, every thought in your pretty head revolved around him.
today, however, had been a bit different. it started with him not giving you the normal pat when you got out of bed this morning. you didn’t think too much of it, figuring he was probably concerned with work-related emails on his phone.
then it was the lack of attention while you made him breakfast. you enjoyed your small housewife-like duties. rafe walked into the kitchen, leaning his back against the granite countertop. but when he didn’t come up behind you and place a sweet kiss against your neck while aggressively claiming your ass as his, a slight pout formed on your lips. rafe was too engrossed in his phone to notice it though.
when you put a plate of food in front of him, he barely looked up to give you a half smile. you quickly went back to busying yourself in the kitchen, trying to keep your mind away from the anxious thoughts beginning to swirl around.
much to your dismay, washing the dishes wasn’t helping. did you do something wrong? could you have said something last night that, unintentionally of course, upset him? were you being too clingy? was it really just work?
you let out a deep sigh as you finished drying off a frying pan. “you okay?” rafe called out to you.
you turned to look at him, placing a small smile on your face that was definitely not genuine. “yeah, ‘m fine.”
he didn’t look satisfied with your answer, but he didn’t push any further. you didn’t want to share any of your current thoughts. if it was really only him being stressed with the business, you would feel bad for assuming otherwise. you didn’t want to overthink small things, but it was one of your unhealthy habits.
shortly after eating and cleaning up, you were upstairs in your shared room getting ready to go to the country club with rafe. he’d made plans a few days ago to go golfing with topper and kelce, naturally, you were going. rafe brought you with him almost everywhere.
you put on a short white tennis skirt, one that you knew drove him wild, along with a tight pink tank top. as you finished applying your layer of lip gloss, you looked yourself over in the mirror. there was no way rafe could resist giving you a firm slap on the ass when it looked so good in the tiny skirt.
“c’mon, kid. don’t have all day here.” he called out from the bottom of the stairs.
“‘m coming,” you responded, grabbing your small pink purse and heading down.
you walked out of the bedroom with a big smile on your face, nearly skipping down the hall. once you got to the top of the stairs, rafe looked up, giving you a quick smirk.
he held the door open for you on the way out of the house, and of course as you got into his truck, but still hadn’t given you a single pat today. you were genuinely beginning to grow concerned at this point. you could brush off not getting them when you got out of bed or while making breakfast, but when he didn’t give you one while you walked out of the front door, swaying your hips, or stepping up into his truck, purposely bending over so your mini skirt rode up? that was extremely unusual.
you buckled yourself in, leaning your knees closer to the door than him and stared out the window.
“you have an attitude?” he questioned you, his tone having a bit of edge to it.
“nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’, “‘m fine.”
you glanced over just in time to see rafe rolling his eyes. he didn’t verbally say anything, but his actions spoke loud enough for you.
you crossed your arms, childishly leaning further into the door to put what distance you could between the two of you. rafe let out a sigh, but still didn’t say anything.
the short drive to the country club was filled with tension. it was uncomfortably silent, neither of you speaking a word to each other.
rafe stepped out of the truck when you arrived, slamming his door shut a bit harder than usual. he still came to your side though, opening up the door for you to step out. he once again didn’t offer any touch to you. your heart sank, you truly didn’t know what was going on.
he grabbed his clubs from the back, walking ahead of you to go meet topper and kelce on the course. you followed behind, slow and stubbornly, your arms crossed and your brow furrowed with a pout on your lips.
you sat in the passenger seat, legs and arms crossed as your manicured nails tapped against your bicep in an irritated manner. you looked cranky, and you knew it based on the looks topper and kelce gave rafe when you initially followed behind him. you usually wore a bright smile and clung to rafe’s side, excitedly greeting the boys.
“what’s goin’ on with her?” you heard topper ask rafe. he attempted to keep his volume low so you wouldn’t hear, but with his naturally loud voice, he failed miserably.
your eyebrow quirked up. you were curious to hear rafe’s response.
“no fuckin’ clue.” rafe grumbled out, trying to focus on his swing. you rolled your eyes, it was his fault you were in a bad mood. he’s the one that’s been neglecting you since you woke up.
topper glanced over at you, letting out a slight laugh at your pouting. rafe’s eyes followed, he pinched his nose in annoyance.
he walked up to the cart where you were sitting, crossing his arms as he looked down at you.
“okay, kid. what’s goin’ on? why are you pouting?”
you let a small scoff out, furrowing your brows, “don’t act so interested now just because your friends noticed.”
rafe was taken aback at your tone. you never spoke to him with an attitude like that. his eyes narrowed, looking at you in a way that made you feel minuscule.
“you can lose that little attitude you’ve got goin’ on, now.” his voice was stern, dripping with annoyance. you wanted to disappear, you were so frustrated that he didn’t understand he was the reason for your attitude.
you looked away from him, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes as you said nothing and stared forward, not particularly focusing on anything.
rafe muttered a “whatever.” before walking back to where topper and kelce were.
you did feel bad for having an attitude, but the way you felt like you were being rejected by him made you want to shut down. it made you want to disappear from the face of the earth for a while. you felt embarrassed, upset, and now overwhelmed with your brain going into overthinking.
you didn’t say a word to any of the men as they played through the course. not even when rafe would get into the drivers seat and bring you two to the next hole.
you instead spent that time biting down harshly on the inside of your lip, fighting to keep the tears of frustration from falling past your eyes. you tried to focus on literally anything else, but the constant noise of thoughts swirling through your brain made it impossible.
they’d wrapped up the last hole. you heard rafe saying something about possibly meeting them around the country club after for lunch.
you refused to look up at him, even when he started heading your way. you missed the way he wore a half smirk as he looked at your pouting figure. he knew you were upset about something, but you weren’t great about vocalizing your feelings.
“d’you want to go back to the restaurant for lunch?”
“don’t care,” you muttered out, looking down at your nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.
“well, your options are either that or we can go home. your choice, kid.” he wasn’t feeding into your baiting tone, and that just irritated you further.
“said i don’t care, rafe.”
“s’okay. we can go home and you can take a nap, because you clearly need one.” he rounded the golf cart, hopping into the driver’s seat as he brought you back to the entrance.
you got out before he could, beginning to storm your way to his truck.
“hey! slow the fuck down. you know you don’t walk into a busy ass parking lot without me.” he called out to you.
you halted, but didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. you mumbled an “okay, asshole.” under your breath, not thinking he’d hear.
boy, were you wrong. it took a matter of seconds for rafe to be in front of you, one of his large hands squishing your cheeks as he moved jaw up to look at him, “wanna say that again, princess?” he said challengingly.
you didn’t respond. wrong answer. his nostrils flared as he squinted at you. he gripped your wrist, harshly dragging you to where the truck was parked. he brought you around to the passenger door where it blocked onlookers from the country club from seeing you.
“i don’t know what the fuck’s goin’ on with you today. but i will not put up with this shit in front of others. you know i- i have a reputation to uphold here, right? you think it looks good on me for others to see my girl being a bitch towards me, huh?”
your lip wobbled as tears began to fill your eyes. you wanted to look away, to look anywhere besides his mean stare, but his rough hand on your face wouldn’t allow it.
“no!” you cried out, “just- just wanted your affection. dunno why you’re mad at me.” you whimpered out, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.
“kid. why do you think i’m mad at you?” he quirked an eyebrow inquisitively.
“b-because you haven’t given me a single pat today! ‘nd you give me them everyday!”
he closed his eyes, taking a deep inhale to calm himself.
“you think i’m mad at you because i haven’t smacked your ass today?”
when he said it like that, it sounded stupid. but it felt like so much more than that to you.
he rolled his eyes, using his hands to wipe away the tears on your face. he made sure you were looking at him, “sweetheart, ‘m not mad at you. i’ve been busy with some clients that aren’t following through on their payments today.”
you looked at him hopefully, hiccuping as you brought your hands up on his.
“do you pinky promise you’re not mad at me?” you asked him softly, holding out one of your pinkies.
“pinky promise. but you’re not gonna be able to sit tomorrow with the spanking you’re getting when we get home.” he reached out his pinky, stifling back a smirk as he intertwined them.
“m’kay!” you responded happily, the tears stopping and a smile appearing on your face.
he opened up the passenger door, holding his hand out to help you get in before he gave your bottom a firm pat and buckled you in.
he chuckled to himself as he rounded the truck, “all that attitude because she didn’t get her ass smacked, huh?”
#🌶️ anon#divider by plutism#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x fem!reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe obx#rafe fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fic
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HAII, I rlly love your writing style and the way you portray the characters! I was wondering if u could do an Ace x shy (ish) reader except the reader is an extrovert but completely loses all social skills when it comes to Ace and practically avoids him lol (cuz he’s so fineeee oml like how can u talk normally to a fine man like him?) I’m sorry Ik it’s a bit specific but I’ve had this scenario in mind for a while and I was wondering if u could write abt it please 😓😓
This was such a cute request, I had fun with this one 😊 I hope you enjoy it!
Tongue Tied
Pairing: Ace x Reader
SFW
Summary: You've decided you're done embarrassing yourself in front of your Commander, but your attempt to avoid him doesn't work out how you'd hoped. Warnings: Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Ace and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 1.7k
If you make a fool of yourself in front of him again, you might throw yourself off of the ship.
There’s only so many stumbles, so many stuttered words, so many awkward laughs that you can handle. Every time you speak to Ace, you somehow manage to embarrass yourself. You’re done with it. If you can’t get your act together, can’t impress and enchant him how you want to, then it’s better not to speak to him at all.
And so here you are, curled up in a corner of the kitchen, praying to any god that might listen that your Commander doesn’t come looking for a snack.
“You alright down there?” Thatch’s voice is kind, as it always is, but you can hear a bit of a laugh. You’re used to the good natured teasing of the crew, so it doesn’t get under your skin as much as it used to, but you can’t help but bristling a bit.
“I’m fine.”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m sure you are. I just wanted to check. I heard there was an incident earlier–”
“God, don’t remind me.” You had been in the middle of telling a story, complete with very enthusiastic hand gestures, only for Ace to sneak up on you and get clocked straight in the face by a particularly large sweeping motion. He was fine, obviously, as a Logia type, but you had barely managed to squeak out an embarrassed apology before you had sprinted off, nearly tripping down the stairs on your way out. “I’m never going to live that down.”
“It’s not like you hurt anybody. Everyone on the ship has at least one story way more embarrassing than this, I promise you. You remember how many times Ace got thrown overboard when he first got here, don’t you?”
“I don’t think losing a fight to Pops is as embarrassing as accidentally punching a commander in the face because I got too excited.”
“Well at least your thing is cute.”
“Cute? It made me look insane!”
“It made you look clumsy. There’s plenty of clumsy people on this ship, and we love them all the same.” You don’t want to give in, want to sit in the hurt and the shame until it eats you whole, but Thatch’s words are so kind and his words are so gentle you can’t help but let your hold on it slip a bit, your shoulders relaxing just a tad. “I promise you this is going to be nothing but a funny memory someday. Probably someday soon. I’m surprised you’re so shaken by this, honestly. Haven’t you had a lot of moments like this?”
“Where I made myself look like a dumbass in front of a crowd? Yeah, I have, thanks for reminding me.” There’s no bite to your words anymore, and you can see the small shimmer of victory in his eyes as he realizes he’s gotten to you.
“But those don’t bother you. Because it isn’t about the crowd, right?”
You sigh. You had a feeling Thatch knew about your little crush, considering how poorly you’ve been hiding it, but he hadn’t said anything before now. You had hoped that no one ever would, and you could keep pretending you weren’t horribly obvious about your feelings. “So you’re going to make me talk about it now?”
“I’m not going to make you do anything, kid. I’m just giving you the chance to. In a safe space. And I promise that not a single word of what you tell me will leave this room.”
You don’t want to. You may be horribly uncomfortable and embarrassed now, but this is a familiar discomfort. A safe sort of pain, dull and easy to deal with. If you talk about it, let your soft parts show, well, who knows what will come after that? Nothing is more terrifying than the unfamiliar, whether it’s joy or disappointment or something in between. At least you know how pining feels, how it sits so snugly in your chest.
But Thatch’s smile is so warm, and his eyes are a little bit pleading, and you’ve never been good at turning away an outstretched hand. “...I just don’t know what it is about him that makes me such a mess.”
“Does he make you nervous?”
“Yes, god, so much. I’m not used to someone making me feel so…small. And jittery. I never know what to say, and even when I do the words come out wrong. It makes me feel so stupid and silly, like I’m a dumb kid again while he’s so…everything. I hate it. I hate feeling so out of control and self conscious. I hate that even seeing him makes me completely lose it, and that everyone can tell. I hate how hard it is to avoid him, because even despite all of that I still want to be around him. It sucks. So goddamn bad.”
“It can be hard to feel like you’re not in control of your emotions, that’s true. But caring about someone isn’t a bad thing, really. Especially not caring about someone like Ace. He’s a good guy.”
“He is a good guy.” It’s part of the reason he had stolen your heart so effortlessly. He was just…kind. He cared about other people, and other people cared about him. When he passed through somewhere, he always left it a little better than he found it, whether he actively tried or not. You can’t help the small, self deprecating laugh that bubbles out of you. “He’d be a hell of a lot easier to get over if he wasn’t. But maybe he’s worth the trouble.”
“Worth making a fool of yourself?”
You smile, a small and fragile little thing. “Yeah.”
It feels good to have gotten off of your chest for a moment, and you let a little of that weight fall off your shoulders.
And then you hear the creak of the floorboards outside, and you and Thatch look up to see Ace, his hat quickly pulled down to cover his face, just barely showing the very red tips of his ears.
“Oh my god.” You can barely squeak out the words, so mortified it almost makes you nauseous.
Thatch has the nerve to laugh. “Well, this isn’t the ideal way to do this, but hey. At least it’s out there. I told you they didn’t hate you, didn’t I?”
What?
Ace’s voice is about an octave higher than you remember it. “Yeah, you mentioned that. I–um–I’m so sorry, I was just coming down to talk to Thatch, and–I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” He lets his hat drop a little, his eyes peeking over the brim, allowing you to see his flushed cheeks, making his freckles stand out even more over the pink.
Thatch very casually walks past Ace, shoves him into the kitchen, and walks away, calling over his shoulder to, “Have fun with that!”
He blinks at you.
You blink back.
“I–uh.” You can’t bring yourself to acknowledge what’s happening, your brain frying under the stress of trying to process the situation. “I’m sorry I punched you earlier.”
He chokes out a strained laugh. “It’s alright. I didn’t even feel it.”
Another beat of silence.
You’ve never seen Ace looking so unsure, shifting on his feet, eyes darting everywhere but you. Normally staying in his presence this long would make you curl in on yourself, taking up as little space as possible, trying not to make an idiot of yourself and failing massively. But something about seeing him look so vulnerable compared to how you usually view him, so human, makes you speak up. “You thought I hated you?”
The red on his cheeks grows deeper. “I–you always run when I try to talk to you. I thought it was because I made you uncomfortable, and I was hoping talking to you more would fix it, but it just made it worse. So I just…make you nervous?”
“Yeah. You do.”
“Why?”
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. “What do you mean why? I thought you just heard why.”
He chuckles nervously. “Right. I–um. I just can’t believe it.”
“Which part?”
He tenses further, but instead of running, he begins to approach, slowly lowering his hat and sitting on the floor across from you. “Any of it, I guess. That you like me. That you think I’m some cool, strong hero, or something.”
“Do you not think you’re cool?”
He hums, closing his eyes in thought. “Yes. But not really.”
“Care to elaborate?”
He sighs. “I know I’m strong, and capable, and I try my best to help people. But…I don’t know. I just don’t think of myself as someone worth getting nervous over.”
“You don’t see why someone might be nervous around an extremely talented and handsome man?”
He grins. “You think I’m handsome?”
“Shut up. You already knew that.”
“You didn’t actually say it earlier. You just said I was good.”
You roll your eyes. “It was implied!”
“Maybe I’m not good with subtext!”
You both laugh, and you find yourself leaning closer. “I think you know damn well that you’re handsome and cool and all of the other amazing things I implied earlier.”
Before you know it, your noses are brushing together, and you can see every fleck of color in his eyes. “Do I?”
His lips are softer than you expected, his touch gentler than you could have dreamed. You don’t even realize what you’ve done until you’re already pulling away, cheeks flushed and a goofy smile on your face.
Ace looks downright giddy. “I never thought I’d get the chance to do that. This is the first time you’ve actually talked to me in months.”
It suddenly strikes you that you’ve finally had a normal conversation with Ace.
And kissed him.
You flush red.
He sighs fondly. “I was wondering when that was going to happen.” He leans forward, taking your hand in his, and is kind enough not to mention how clammy they’ve suddenly gotten. “It might be a little rough doing this if you can’t talk to me. But that’s alright. I think maybe you’re worth the trouble.”
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay
#ace x reader#portgas d ace x reader#one piece x reader#one piece#x reader#portgas ace x reader#ace x you#ace x y/n#op#one piece fluff
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Wer is grumpy jk! We badly need it 😫😭
summary: you and jungkook are getting closer, moving forward – but to where, exactly? what does that entail for your relationship?
w/c: 3.3k
note: this is for all the girlies who asked for part 2 for this drabble. nothing but fluff in here ): ive been thinking abt college jk lately and i lowkey like this grumpy!jk guy… basically this takes place two months after the first drabble u may read this amm for grumpy!jk for a brief bg on what their relationship has become before u go read this parr. anyway the ending is a bit diabolical and im saying sorry in advance
also pls listen to come here by kath bloom, its literally so them 😮💨😖
It’s almost natural the way Jungkook immediately slings his backpack on one shoulder, heads straight out of the lecture hall, and starts the almost ten-minute walk from his department building to yours the moment his last class for the day was dismissed.
He waits outside by the hallway along the lecture room, scrolling through his phone mindlessly, knowing that any minute now you’ll be coming out of the door.
And just as a slew of students’ chattering becomes louder, their heavy footsteps coming out from the hall, Jungkook instantly spots you; talking to a friend animatedly – Joy, maybe? – before you look to the other side and finally see him.
“Jungkook!” You exclaim with excitement, smiling up at him and even doing a little wave. Jungkook watches as you turn to your friend. “Sorry, I gotta go. Zoom meeting at five, right?” He hears you say before she nods, bidding your goodbyes to each other before she goes in the opposite direction while you saunter towards him with that usual dashing grin on your face.
Jungkook meets you halfway, lips curling up slightly at your enthusiastic greeting. Even more so when you don’t fight off the way he goes for your tote bag, taking it off your shoulder and wearing it on his own, the weight not adding that much to his own bag perched on his back.
He remembers the first time he tried to do it (awkwardly, might he add), and you vehemently refused. But Jungkook can be persistent sometimes when he wants to, and eventually you gave up trying to resist.
Currently, as you walk along the hallway out of your building, standing close together, Jungkook tries not to think too much about how easy this feels. Like it’s normal the way you immediately interlock your arm around his own, skipping a little bit upon your walk as you begin speaking.
“You really did cut your hair.” You marvel at him when he looks down at you. And he can’t help it; the blood rushing to his cheeks and certainly on his ears.
“I sent you a picture.” He simply says. It was yesterday. He originally went to his barber for just a trim but he remembers you saying something about a particular actor’s haircut… and look, it’s not like he was trying to look like that man but it may have influenced the decision a little bit…
Anyway, he thinks it looks okay on him. He trusts his barber and Hoseok said it suits him. From your response, you also said it looks nice.
And you tell him so. “I like it! You look so good. Especially with this frame!” You point to his eyeglasses, smiling up at him. “I was thinking you were just sending me a random picture last night.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I wasn't, and uh, thank you.”
“You're welcome. Anyway,” you say, “Did you wait for long earlier? Sorry ‘bout that. Prof. Shin had to extend a little bit ‘cause there were a lot of questions about our new project.”
“You have a new project?”
“Yeah, but nothing really heavy. Just a hotel lobby interior design. We got a week and it’s a paired task thing, that’s why you saw me with Joy earlier—”
He sees a flock of students ahead huddling by your side of the pathwalk, and because you have a tendency to not really pay that much attention to your surroundings, he takes you by the waist slightly to avoid bumping with them, causing you to stumble closer to him.
You crane your neck to look behind you for a moment, gaze falling back up to Jungkook with widened eyes. “Sorry.” you say with a jutted lip and a little frown.
“It’s okay.” Jungkook says with a reassuring smile. He means it. He likes being close like this and if you don’t watch your surroundings, he’ll just do it for you. He doesn’t mind.
You grin. “Anyway… I was saying, it’s a hotel interior. But! The thing is, it’s a themed hotel, which I’m really excited about ‘cause I’m tired of designing contemporary, luxury ones. They always tend to be so redundant.”
Jungkook nods. “I think so too. What’s the themed hotel about?”
“Have you heard of a film called Metropolis?” He shakes his head. You nod at that. “Well, yeah, me neither. At least a week ago. Prof gave it to us as an assignment and it’s a silent film from the ‘20s. A sci-fi tale, so very futuristic – at least for that time. So that’s the theme of the hotel, right, and Joy and I immediately thought of art deco.”
Jungkook intently listens as you go on about your initial ideas, and he doesn’t even have to worry about the terms he doesn’t understand because you always take time to explain it to him in layman’s. It’s funny, really, because ever since he’s learned that you study interior design and started to talk to him about it, he found himself taking interest in it as well. Two months ago, he couldn't have given a single care about a couple named Charles and Ray Eames and their weird chair called La Chaise, but here he is, anyway.
Maybe it’s because of the way you so passionately talk about it. Your zeal oozes out so much when it comes up as the topic of conversation, and there’s always been something about you that pulls people right in. And Jungkook’s at peace with himself now that he’s just one of those people.
He’s willing to be pulled right in, anyway. You don’t exactly make it hard to.
And Jungkook finds that the newfound dynamic between you two isn’t… so bad. He finds excitement at the prospect of seeing you after his classes are concluded, going to Fro-yo for a quick snack because you’re obsessed with it, and studying together at his place later in the day.
A lot of people would say he’s making up for all the times he’s ignored you. The times when he pretended to not care about you. The times when he was just unprovokedly mean and treated you the way he regrets now. And sure, it may have started that way. Ever since your Environmental Science project was finished and the term was over, Jungkook started to feel like he couldn’t go back to the life where you weren’t within his perimeter. Couldn’t imagine you both being back to – practically – regular strangers, so he just… opened up to you more.
He shares his own stories now. Tells you about his day after you do so, and invites you to Fro-yo and other cafes and restaurants around campus whenever your schedules align.
And maybe at first it was, indeed, because he was trying to make up for his past behavior – but that may have only been what he convinced himself of for the first few weeks. When the week stretched into months and the months suddenly involved you doing sleepovers at his place whenever his roommate, Hoseok, is not around, Jungkook is starting to question himself if this is all still about simply making it up to you.
Because frankly, he’s starting to feel like it's a little more than that.
He’s not just buying you frozen yogurt and helping you with any assignment (that requires his silly and minuscule math and science expertise) and letting you borrow and keep his hoodies and shirts whenever you sleep over because he’s trying to make up for the past – he’s doing all of these because he genuinely enjoys your company and would like to do more for you… with you… to you… and just… just more.
He wants more with you.
And every single day is a daunting battle for his internal mullings.
Because he knows he’s been stupid all this time not to realize right away that he’s got romantic feelings for you. That his confusion when it comes to you didn't come from the reason that you were extremely extroverted and had way too much energy – it was that those things made him like you and his little heart and brain couldn’t comprehend any of it the way he can easily wrap his head around math equations and concepts.
But he keeps himself on the sidelines. Thinks about keeping himself there until he’s sure of what you truly think about.
You’re always nice to him. But you’re kind of nice to everybody… so that gets him a little twisted.
On Monday, when you were supposed to hang out – when you usually sleep over at his place, you bailed on him to study with Jae, as per Taehyung's words, your mutual friend.
He just can’t tell if the way you treat him is different to the way you treat everyone else, and that’s what’s been on his mind lately.
“Oh, Kookie,” you say as soon as Jungkook takes out his keys, going for his keyfob when you arrive at the parking area. He looks at you in question, completely ignoring the way his heart flutters a little at the nickname. He kind of hates it, thinks it's too childish when other people call him that – but with you it sounds so much like an endearment, so he doesn't protest. You press your lips into a thin line before you say, “I can’t go to Fro-yo today. Joy and I agreed to have a zoom meeting later to start conceptualizing.”
“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Rain check?”
You pout. “Yeah.”
“You can do it at my place? Hoseok’s doing an all-nighter with his study group, so he won’t be there ‘til the morning.”
“But I didn’t bring my laptop today.”
With furrowed brows, Jungkook steps closer to you. “It’s alright. We can drive to your place, get your laptop then go to mine,” he smiles. “Sleepover?”
Jungkook doesn’t want to toot his own horn but he may have seen your face light up at that. But it comes off easily and he begins to worry.
“I want to, but I don’t want to impose.” You say.
Instantly, Jungkook’s forehead creases. “You won’t be imposing.” When he sees that you’re about to decline again, he lets out a, “Please?”
At that, you stop. You stare at him for a moment.
“Uh…” you trail off. “You sure? Are you not busy tonight?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll probably start on an assignment so we can be both busy–” you nudge his arm at that, laughing. “– but other than that, no. I’ll cook us something. Or do you want to get take-out instead?”
“I’d really, really appreciate your black bean noodles tonight.” You muse, looking at him like he holds the stars in the sky. With you gazing up at him like that, how can he say no?
“I think we have the ingredients in the fridge. Black bean noodles it is, then.” Jungkook says before you’re muffling your own squeal in your excitement, saying your little delighted “thank you” when Jungkook ushers you in the passenger seat after opening it for you.
He rounds the car before he settles on his side, and when he starts the engine, he can’t help but smile slightly at the way you lean comfortably on your seat, as if you’re so used to being in his car – which you are.
And Jungkook finds he likes that. He likes you that way; being used to being around him.
“You’re done?” Jungkook looks up from his computer, seeing you doing some arm stretches and leaning into his gaming chair to do it on your neck as well.
“Yep.”
“Then come here already.” He shuts his laptop close, places it on the bedside table, and pats the space on the mattress next to him.
It’s nearly 10pm and your zoom meeting with Joy went for nearly 4 hours. You got on it immediately after you two ate your dinner, and like clockwork, asked to borrow one of Jungkook’s shirts because your top was getting a little too uncomfortable on your body. You’ve both already showered – separately, of course – and that’s one of the many things that Jungkook smiles about when he enters his bathroom sometimes. Because the fact that you shower in his bathroom means your essentials are slowly making a space for themselves in his own place; the yellow cup holder of your toothbrush sits next to his blue one, and a bottle of your moisturizer is also in his lavatory cabinet.
“‘M so tired” You let yourself fall on the mattress, bouncing a little on it face down, sprawling across the bed like some starfish, your other hand landing on Jungkook’s abdomen.
“Meeting went well?” Jungkook asks, and he’s a little disappointed when you remove an arm on him, but that’s okay, because soon you’re leaning sidewards to properly look at him and it makes him smile to see you so cozy like this. Barefaced and in his shirt.
“Yeah, we got some work done,” You say. Jungkook watches as you try to get comfortable on your side of the bed. “I think I’m sleepy now.”
“Yeah?” He follows after you, and he doesn’t hide his huge smile when you go and turn your back to him immediately after he slides his arm under your neck, spooning you from behind. Snuggling closer to him, Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist and lets out a contented sigh against the back of your head. “My first class is at one thirty pm tomorrow.”
“I have one at eight am. Then the next one is at ten.”
“Tough.”
“I know… I wish I didn’t enlist in morning classes.”
He chuckles, closing his eyes as he starts to feel that familiar lull of sleep dancing behind his eyes. But truth be told, he doesn’t want to give into that just yet.
“You were with Jae on Monday?” He asks, carefully treading through the subject. It’s Thursday now. It's not like Jungkook’s a jealous guy… it just kind of threw him off a little, because you didn’t tell him you were with Jae.
“Uh… yeah?” Jungkook feels you freezing in his arms. “How’d you know?”
“Taehyung told me.”
“Oh.” He can practically hear the wince. “He has such a big mouth.” You say drily.
That earns you a laugh from Jungkook. But he decides to take down the jokes for a more honest and open conversation with you tonight.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s not accusatory. It’s soft and gentle, the way he asks it, with his thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your hip due to the hem of your – his – shirt riding up.
Your answer takes awhile.
“I was… getting help with estimates.”
“... Okay,” Jungkook tightens his hold around you, growing confused. “But I’m really good with estimates. I could’ve helped you.” It was easy math for him. And you never shied away from asking him for help before… why now?
“Well, he offered.”
Jungkook’s brows crease deeper. “That’s not…" he trails off, then continues, "You know you can ask me for anything, right? Jae’s not even on the dean's list. How’d you know he’s teaching you the right stuff?”
Silence hangs in the air before Jungkook hears your laughter. Shuffling in his arms, Jungkook loosens his hold around you to let you turn to him. When he sees your face, there's a huge grin on it.
“He’s not even on the dean’s list?” You sound intrigued.
Jungkook assumed you were curiously speaking, and so he nods, looking into your eyes seriously. “He isn’t. Look, I’m not saying–” when he notices your smile only getting wider by the second, he realizes you’re just trying to fuck with him, so Jungkook cuts himself off, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I sound like an asshole.”
You scoot closer until both the front of your bodies are stuck. Jungkook tries not to think too much whether you’re wearing a bra underneath his shirt or not.
You shake your head. “Not really. I believe you’re way smarter than him.”
“Then why come to him and not me?”
You stare at him for a moment, then you let out a heavy breath. “I just feel like you’re doing so many things for me nowadays. You were also really busy on Monday– don’t deny it–” you say before he opens his mouth to oppose that. He shuts his lips close, listening to you go on instead. “– and I was just being considerate. Jae offered because we saw and sat next to each other at the library, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Jungkook blinks, processing your words. After a pregnant pause, he slowly nods, still dumbstruck.
“Ah… okay. I understand.” he says, embarrassment slowly filling his system.
You smile at him. Playfully. “Sorry for asking help from someone who’s not on the dean’s list.” Jungkook drops his expression into a poker face at that, which makes you laugh even more. You nibble on your bottom lip before you stretch your hand to his cheek and pinch it. He doesn’t bother dodging your hand. With a giggle, you say, “Sorry, sorry. That was just so funny. You’re so funny without even trying sometimes, you know?”
“Not really.” Jungkook says and you can tell the tell-tale signs of his grumpiness starting to kick in.
What he doesn’t expect is the way you suddenly squeal and launch yourself on top of him, causing him to lie fully on his back with you sprawled all over his body, hugging him tight and burying your face in his chest.
“You’re so cuddly and warm. Can we stay like this for awhile?” You break away from his chest and look at him from a low angle.
Jungkook meets your gaze.
Sure, you’ve been cuddling (platonically) all these past few months – but they never went to this length. And he’s not sure what the difference is, anyway – just that you’re much closer like this and Jungkook can feel everything. Still, that doesn’t deter him from wrapping his arms around your waist, slightly locking you in the position. Quite frankly, he doesn’t even want you to move.
“Alright.” Is his simple answer. Not like he needed to think about it.
“I’ll sleep now, okay?” But you don’t wait for his response before you lay on his chest again with your cheek pressed on his hoodie.
Because the moment just feels right somehow, Jungkook lets his hand wander on your head. Then slowly, he lets his fingers comb through the strands of your hair, tentatively at first, lest you didn’t want him touching you or something like that – but once he hears a sound akin to a purr coming from you, he continues and finds himself getting comforted by the action as well.
“The Jae thing really bothered you?” You ask suddenly, not breaking away from the position you’ve assumed on top of his body. But your words are slightly slurred in the haze of sleep.
Jungkook hums. “Yes.”
“Sorry for not telling you myself.”
“It’s okay,” Jungkook reassures you. His gaze falls to the ceiling, hand still caressing your hair. The surface is empty, and there’s not really much going on. Meanwhile, in your own bedroom, you have those glow in the dark star stickers pasted on your white ceiling. He’s never slept over there, but he thinks it would be nice to lay under your makeshift galaxy with your homely scent surrounding the two of you. “Are you not gonna ask why I was bothered?” He says after a beat.
“I was gonna. But I think I know.” You answer, and Jungkook doesn’t expect that one bit.
He stops his ministrations on your hair, and it’s obvious that you’re about to question it when you suddenly peel your face away from his chest again.
When you do, Jungkook meets your gaze and with a leveled tone, he asks the question he’s been mulling about for the past two months.
“__, what are we?”
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so american - ln4
lando norris x fem!sargeant!singer!reader smau
summary; yn sargeant releases her new song which has everyone (and her brother) wondering who is it about warnings; light cursing fc; olivia rodrigo notes; i just had to…
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 2.891.283 others ynsargeant surprise, “so american” is yours now! hope u like it ;)
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user EXCUSE ME?????
user damn what happened to hello?? how are you?? my name is???
logansargeant what
ynsargeant surprise ?
lilyzneimer sooo good yn! been on repeat all day🫶🏻🫶🏻
ynsargeant lilyyyyyy💘💘 user since when is she friends with lily what user well she’s good friends with oscar but they never interacted with each other before, maybe they’ve hanging out more lately??
user “he’s like a poem i wish i wrote” STFUUUU MY GIRL’S IN LOVE LOVE
user god bless america fr
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ynsargeant just uploaded to their story!
[quick ootd check🤫] [always a pleasure to be here, see u tomorrow ny🍎🫶🏻]
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ynsargeant just uploaded to their story!
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ynsargeant
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ynsargeant life lately🧡🫂
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user there’s no way that isn’t lando
landonorris cute rings who got you those
ynsargeant some rando idk his name landonorris wow.
user that’s a hard launch if i’ve ever fucking seen one
user there she goes again with the orange hearts girl just post him you’re not mysterious 😭
user obsessed with lando flying to ny from monaco for one night just to see her in msg🥹
user ikr my girl’s finally getting the love she deserves
ynsargeant
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ynsargeant papayaaaaa
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user i can’t even pretend to be shocked😭
logansargeant wrong garage but ok😞
ynsargeant they don’t give me free coffee over there alex_albon yn we are broke user no way 😭
oscarpiastri wow we’ve been friends for years and i never got you to wear any of my team’s merch
logansargeant tell me abt it landonorris i have that effect🤷♀️ user damn lando norrizz has rizz
landonorris 🧡🧡🧡🧡
user this comment section isn’t real😭
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landonorris don’t tell her but i might just be in love as well
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user THE CAPTION
user he does not let go of that camera huh
logansargeant what’s with the hat ynsargeant that’s not very🦅💥💥🇺🇸 of you
ynsargeant i was promised that pic would not leave the camera roll. landonorris sorry baby u just looked so cute oscarpiastri get a room logansargeant don’t?
ynsargeant hahaha you in love🫵🤣
user girl you literally wrote a song about how down bad you are stfu
user mom wake up new parasocial relationship just dropped
user this post being y/n taken by lando and her post being lando taken by y/n🥹🥹🥹
user tooooootally normal abt this
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#f1 fanfic#formula 1#f1#f1 x reader#fanfiction#smau#f1 smau#lando norris#mclaren#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris social media au#lando norris smau#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#ln4#ln4 smau#lando norris 4#f1 fic#motorsports#formula 1 smau#lando norris fanfiction
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when you ask to cuddle ☆ (boynextdoor) boynextdoor (ot6) x gender neutral reader not proofread fluff
sungho . . . thinks there’s a deeper reason and asks what’s bothering you - he’s used to taking the lead in planning dates and time together, especially since his schedule is more hectic, and you don’t often directly express this desire for closeness. so to ask to cuddle… surely something’s wrong (you just miss him and he can’t stop his smile when you say that). he’s touched, hiding his flushed cheeks by getting you water and making the bed or couch more comfortable. he’ll settle once he feels satisfied he’s gotten anything you could want and opens his arms to you, breath hitching when you nuzzle into his neck and rest your head on his shoulders with a happy hum. honestly, he’s a little stiff until he gets tired, which is when he curls into and around you. often ends with you two asleep and he always wakes up with a crick in his neck. he’ll never complain.
riwoo . . . isn’t huge on it but will do just about anything you ask. normally, he’s working on something even though he’s promised not to take work home, but he leaves enough room between his chair and desk for you to climb on his lab and press closer. when you actively ask to cuddle instead of just taking the silent invitation, he’ll finish what he’s working on and move somewhere more comfortable. regardless of location, his thumbs rub circles on your skin and he’ll kiss your temple occasionally.
jaehyun . . . thrives off this. he almost always is the one initiating and asking for attention just because he can’t get enough of you. so when you ask? on cloud nine. teases you until you tell him to shut up, and he quickly listens so you don’t change your mind. wraps his limbs around you tightly and keeps showing you videos or asking you about whatever thought crosses his mind. almost always lighthearted and giggly, but he’s attentive enough to be more gentle and laidback when he can tell you’re stressed or upset.
taesan . . . pretends he doesn’t like cuddling, but the second you ask (even before you pull out the pleading eyes) he’s way more into it than you. rarely initiates but whines when you try to leave his arms. more than happy to spend his whole day wrapped up in your warmth and have your fingers card through his hair. really gentle and soft, and one of the easiest ways to get him vulnerable and sweet. likes to tell you “secrets” (“hey, y/n? this is a secret so shh… but i love you”). also plays with your jewelry or clothing while listening to you talk (another “secret” he likes to share is that he loves the sound of your voice more than any other sound)
leehan . . . into it, but not super expressive about how he enjoys it too. you have to pay attention to the small curl to the corner of his lips and the softening of his eyes and brows, eyes sparkling even more than normal as you get comfortable and your voice gets quieter as the warmth of his embrace makes you sleepy. still makes you feel like his attention is focused on you, even if he has to take a phone call or do work on his laptop. his love for you radiates.
woonhak . . . whines to stop babying him or messing up his hair, but will pout if you actually stop. claims he’s the big spoon but ends up being the little spoon with his head on your chest, where he lets the sound of your heart lull him into relaxation. likes to say cheesy pick-up lines or fluster you and point out the stutter to your pulse until you start whining (and he has to kiss away your pout).
haven't written for bnd before so sorry if i'm off abt personalities a little
#boynextdoor x reader#bnd x reader#boynextdoor imagines#bnd imagines#boynextdoor fic#bnd fic#boynextdoor fluff#myung jaehyun x reader#park sungho x reader#lee riwoo x reader#han taesan x reader#kim leehan x reader#kim woonhak x reader#jaehyun x reader#sungho x reader#riwoo x reader#taesan x reader#leehan x reader#woonhak x reader
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if you still take requests would you like to write an oscar x reader where they got to know by a coincident and the reader knows absolutely nothing abt f1 and also not oscar so when he was like I drive for f1 she was like wtf should I do with that information??
She doesn’t like cars
{Reader’s POV}
I met Oscar at a grocery store after I had moved to Monaco. The company I worked at were establishing a new branch here and wanted me to help smooth out the process. Who was I to say no to an opportunity of a life time? But being away from friends and family got very difficult when you enjoy being around people.
I only got the weekend off; so I had to make the best of the situation. I was grabbing milk at the grocery store when another hand grabbed the same carton. I looked at the tall, handsome man next to me; “I grabbed that first” I said. “Sorry” he quietly apologised and moved on. We kept running into each other in different isles and the more I stared at him and his toned thighs I found myself drooling. Well, it’s not everyday an attractive man keeps running into you. So, I did what any rational single woman would do and asked him out. To my surprise, he said yes. I doubt myself too much sometimes, I had thought.
We started going out on dates and spending time together. He was rich and had a pretty decent apartment he owned, from what I gathered. He must make quite a decent amount or he comes from money since he’s constantly away on what I assume are business trips over the weekends every few weeks. Did I ask what he did? No. Did he ask what I did? Not particularly. But I did give him my business card.
We were cuddling on one of these days while Oscar was raking his fingers through my hair; “You always help me feel normal” he whispered. “You make me feel rich” I giggled. “What’s mine’s yours babe” he retorted. “Sure, darling” I muttered. “I’ll be gone over the weekend, again” he said stopping his hand movement. “Again? Don’t you think your boss hates you or something with how much they make you go on trips or maybe they love you” I voiced my concern. Oscar laughed a deep laugh which sent vibrations through my body. “Baby, I know this year’s schedule has been a little more hectic with more races” he lamented. “What races?” I asked. “Formula One races” he replied quizzically. “What’s that?” I asked narrowing my eyes. “You don’t know?” He questioned. “Don’t make me feel stupid for not knowing” I whined.
Oscar sighed before speaking, “so, what you’re saying is all this time you had no clue that I was a Formula One driver?” he asked. “Do you test cars or something. I thought they had dummies for that” I quizzed. Oscar was now sat up an amused expression on his face. “No baby, I drive for McLaren” he explained. “Good for you?” I said slowly, I didn’t want him to feel bad about his job or the fact that I knew nothing about it. But since when did they pay test drivers so much?
Oscar started laughing, “that’s it. Take the weekend off. We’re going to Singapore” he announced. “Not this suddenly” I said. “It’s next week. We’ll fly together. Can’t have my girlfriend not knowing what I do for work” he announced kissing my lips.
My interest was piqued so I ended up googling Formula One. My jaw was on the floor when I realised that Oscar was one of the twenty drivers; he was crème de la crème when it came to motor sport. We’d been dating for a while and I knew nothing about what he did, no wonder he owned a place in Monaco; I couldn’t help but laugh. But in my defence my country isn’t huge on motor sports, so I’m sure Oscar can forgive me.
“You didn’t tell me you won 2 races” I announced after finishing dinner that day. “Oh! Did you google me?” He asked. “Nope, I google formula one and you were on top of the list for the previous race. Then I googled you” I explained. Oscar nodded. I sat down on Oscar’s lap, facing him. “Can’t believe you make so much money and let me pay for our meals” I said shaking my head. “That was one time and you insisted” Oscar explained. “Still” I whined. “Can’t wait to watch you win, people say you are really good” I smirked. “Yeah” he said. “Cocky much.” I laughed. “Maybe you can show me how good you are, now” I winked. “I can show you how good I am in everything” he smirked. “I love you, race winner Oscar Piastri” I said kissing him. “Love the ring of it. Gonna have to win more now” he whispered. “Can’t wait to watch you” I mumbled pulling him in for another kiss
#gguk-n#ask request#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x reader#f1 fluff#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fluff#formula one fluff#formula one fanfiction#formula one fic#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fluff#op81 x you#op81 x y/n#op81 imagine
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