#suddenly its 2008 again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sahkuna · 7 months ago

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NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?”

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulders, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere.

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation.

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows.

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, his arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“Two years, by force.”

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today.

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!”

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him.

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot.

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it.

“But anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side.

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own.

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner.

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened???

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school.

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently.

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly.

Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow.

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you.

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”

There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…

“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro.

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!”

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, the girl’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there.

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes.

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was... different.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmless, right?

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.

You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sato—” Fuck.

You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be.

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now.

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again.

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person.

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob.

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!”

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake.

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har. Har. Very funny.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.

Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre.

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him.

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt.

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject.

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.

For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot.

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it).

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute.

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement. “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal.

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear.

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours.

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means.

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him.

But something’s up.

His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line.

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes.

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.”

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in.

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?”

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone.

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars.

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning.

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours.

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly.

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot.

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—

“…Yeah, why?”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!”

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read to the end we're making out.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk fluff #divider by cafekitsune #sahkuna!

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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Yanis Varoufakis’s “Technofeudalism: What Killed Capitalism?”

Monday (October 2), I'll be in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab. On October 7–8, I'm in Milan to keynote Wired Nextfest.

Socialists have been hotly anticipating the end of capitalism since at least 1848, when Marx and Engels published The Communist Manifesto - but the Manifesto also reminds us that capitalism is only too happy to reinvent itself during its crises, coming back in new forms, over and over again:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

Now, in Technofeudalism: What Killed Capitalism, Yanis Varoufakis - the "libertarian Marxist" former finance minister of Greece - makes an excellent case that capitalism died a decade ago, turning into a new form of feudalism: technofeudalism:

https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/451795/technofeudalism-by-varoufakis-yanis/9781847927279

To understand where Varoufakis is coming from, you need to go beyond the colloquial meanings of "capitalism" and "feudalism." Capitalism isn't just "a system where we buy and sell things." It's a system where capital rules the roost: the richest, most powerful people are those who coerce workers into using their capital (factories, tools, vehicles, etc) to create income in the form of profits.

By contrast, a feudal society is one organized around people who own things, charging others to use them to produce goods and services. In a feudal society, the most important form of income isn't profit, it's rent. To quote Varoufakis: "rent flows from privileged access to things in fixed supply" (land, fossil fuels, etc). Profit comes from "entrepreneurial people who have invested in things that wouldn't have otherwise existed."

This distinction is subtle, but important: "Profit is vulnerable to market competition, rent is not." If you have a coffee shop, then every other coffee shop that opens on your block is a competitive threat that could erode your margins. But if you own the building the coffee shop owner rents, then every other coffee shop that opens on the block raises the property values and the amount of rent you can charge.

The capitalist revolution - extolled and condemned in the Manifesto - was led by people who valorized profits as the heroic returns for making something new in this world, and who condemned rents as a parasitic drain on the true producers whose entrepreneurial spirits would enrich us all. The "free markets" extolled by Adam Smith weren't free from regulation - they were free from rents:

https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/

But rents, Varoufakis writes, "survived only parasitically on, and in the shadows of, profit." That is, rentiers (people whose wealth comes from rents) were a small rump of the economy, slightly suspect and on the periphery of any consideration of how to organize our society. But all that changed in 2008, when the world's central banks addressed the Great Financial Crisis by bailing out not just the banks, but the bankers, funneling trillions to the people whose reckless behavior brought the world to the brink of economic ruin.

Suddenly, these wealthy people, and their banks, experienced enormous wealth-gains without profits. Their businesses lost billions in profits (the cost of offering the business's products and services vastly exceeded the money people spent on those products and services). But the business still had billions more at the end of the year than they'd had at the start: billions in public money, funneled to them by central banks.

This kicked off the "everything rally" in which every kind of asset - real estate, art, stocks, bonds, even monkey JPEGs - ballooned in value. That's exactly what you'd expect from an economy where rents dominate over profits. Feudal rentiers don't need to invest to keep making money - remember, their wealth comes from owning things that other people invest in to make money.

Rents are not vulnerable to competition, so rentiers don't need to plow their rents into new technology to keep the money coming in. The capitalist that leases the oil field needs to invest in new pumps and refining to stay competitive with other oil companies. But the rentier of the oil field doesn't have to do anything: either the capitalist tenant will invest in more capital and make the field more valuable, or they will lose out to another capitalist who'll replace them. Either way, the rentier gets more rent.

So when capitalists get richer, they spend some of that money on new capital, but when rentiers get richer, them spend money on more assets they can rent to capitalists. The "everything rally" made all kinds of capital more valuable, and companies that were transitioning to a feudal footing turned around and handed that money to their investors in stock buybacks and dividends, rather than spending the money on R&D, or new plants, or new technology.

The tech companies, though, were the exception. They invested in "cloud capital" - the servers, lines, and services that everyone else would have to pay rent on in order to practice capitalism.

Think of Amazon: Varoufakis likens shopping on Amazon to visiting a bustling city center filled with shops run by independent capitalists. However, all of those capitalists are subservient to a feudal lord: Jeff Bezos, who takes 51 cents out of every dollar they bring in, and furthermore gets to decide which products they can sell and how those products must be displayed:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

The postcapitalist, technofeudal world isn't a world without capitalism, then. It's a world where capitalists are subservient to feudalists ("cloudalists" in Varoufakis's thesis), as are the rest of us the cloud peons, from the social media users and performers who fill the technofuedalists' siloes with "content" to the regular users whose media diet is dictated by the cloudalists' recommendation systems:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

A defining feature of cloudalism is the ability of the rentier lord to destroy any capitalist vassal's business with the click of a mouse. If Google kicks your business out of the search index, or if Facebook blocks your publication, or if Twitter shadowbans mentions of your product, or if Apple pulls your app from the store, you're toast.

Capitalists "still have the power to command labor from the majority who are reliant on wages," but they are still mere vassals to the cloudalists. Even the most energetic capitalist can't escape paying rent, thanks in large part to "IP," which I claim is best understood as "laws that let a company reach beyond its walls to dictate the conduct of competitors, critics and customers":

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Varoufakis points to ways that the cloudalists can cement their gains: for example, "green" energy doesn't rely on land-leases (like fossil fuels), but it does rely on networked grids and data-protocols that can be loaded up with IP, either or both of which can be turned into chokepoints for feudal rent-extraction. To make things worse, Varoufakis argues that cloudalists won't be able to muster the degree of coordination and patience needed to actually resolve the climate emergency - they'll not only extract rent from every source of renewables, but they'll also silo them in ways that make them incapable of doing the things we need them to do.

Energy is just one of the technofeudal implications that Varoufakis explores in this book: there are also lengthy and fascinating sections on geopolitics, monetary policy, and the New Cold War. Technofeudalism - and the struggle to produce a dominant fiefdom - is a very useful lens for understanding US/Chinese tech wars.

Though Varoufakis is laying out a technical and even esoteric argument here, he takes great pains to make it accessible. The book is structured as a long open letter to his father, a chemical engineer and leftist who was a political prisoner during the fascist takeover of Greece. The framing device works very well, especially if you've read Talking To My Daughter About the Economy, Varoufakis's 2018 radical economics primer in the form of a letter to his young daughter:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374538491/talkingtomydaughterabouttheeconomy

At the very end of the book, Varoufakis calls for "a cloud rebellion to overthrow technofeudalism." This section is very short - and short on details. That's not a knock against the book: there are plenty of very good books that consist primarily or entirely of analysis of the problems with a system, without having to lay out a detailed program for solving those problems.

But for what it's worth, I think there is a way to plan and execute a "cloud rebellion" - a way to use laws, technology, reverse-engineering and human rights frameworks to shatter the platforms and seize the means of computation. I lay out that program in The Internet Con: How the Seize the Means of Computation, a book I published with Verso Books a couple weeks ago:

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

#pluralistic #yanis varoufakis #socialism #communism #technofeudalism #economics #postcapitalism #political science #rent-seeking #rentiers #books #reviews #gift guide

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mononijikayu · 5 months ago

Text

“i blinked and suddenly, i had a valentine— gojo satoru.

Your heart swelled with tenderness that you’ve never felt before. And yet all at once, that unescapable touch of sadness at the thought of his departure. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful face. That tender face, that laughing face. Gojo Satoru was the wonder of your world. In his existence, in his every breath, his every touch, his every grin — you couldn’t help but feel like life was anything else but worth living.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: valentine by laufey

NOTE: when i listened to laufey, i wondered about satoru a lot. i think its because satoru is just very love coded, you know? he's a romantic at heart. he's gentle too. also, he definitely loves chara-bentos. genmei (you) really make the best of it. he requests digimon a lot, but you're still working on it!!! anyway, enjoy this!!! i love you~

masterlist

u s and t h e m

2008

YOU WERE EXCITED TO HAVE SOME SLEEP AFTER THIS. With a smile, you approached your apartment, juggling grocery bags in both hands. The weight of the bags felt lighter than the relief you felt after finally securing a leave from your sorcerer duties.

Gakuganji had been quite adamant about keeping you around, insisting on your presence for various missions. Yet, you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. The constant strain of back-to-back missions had left you yearning for rest and proper sleep.

When you received the news that your leave had been approved, a wave of immense relief and joy washed over you. It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted off your shoulders. The thought of having a break, a chance to breathe and recharge, filled you with happiness.

However, as you entered your apartment, the excitement was briefly tempered by the realization that your pantry and fridge were nearly empty. The thought of enjoying a peaceful day off without any food was disheartening, so you quickly decided to go out and buy some groceries.

Now, with bags filled with fresh ingredients and your favorite snacks, including the much-anticipated coffee jelly, you couldn't wait to relax and enjoy the evening. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over your own quaint neighborhood.

The sky was painted with hues of orange and pink, creating a serene backdrop as you walked towards your apartment. The gentle breeze carried the sounds of children playing in the distance and the faint hum of traffic, adding to the peaceful ambiance.

As you neared your stairs, you paused, noticing a familiar figure slumped against the railing. The sight of the usually energetic and lively Satoru Gojo looking so worn out tugged at your heart. His head was resting against the railing, and he seemed to be half-asleep. Your brows furrowed in confusion and surprise. Why was he here all of a sudden? How did he even know where you lived? You’ve always left that from records.

"Gojo–kun?" you called softly, as you patted his shoulder. He stirred, blinking slowly, his cerulean eyes unfocused as he tried to wake up. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

"Hey, senpai." he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry…. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

You could only frown, realizing how tired he looks. You can only think he’s been doing a lot of missions again. You’d already told everyone, especially Yaga–sensei, that the kids should be resting still. It’s only been a few months since the failure of their mission, since Gojo Satoru’s awakening. And since then, none had listened to your advice.

From what you heard, the missions they’d been sent on lately had been solo missions and one after another, they barely had any time to themselves. You purse your lips. They shouldn’t have to do this. Not when there were others there too. You could feel guilt pulse into you, for taking a break. It’s only a few days at most. But you couldn’t help but wonder what those three days could do to these kids. They’re getting overworked.

"You've been on too many missions lately, haven’t you?" you asked, concern evident in your voice as you looked at Satoru, who was now seated on the couch, still wearing the exhaustion from his recent endeavors.

"Yeah." he admitted with a weary sigh, his cerulean eyes meeting yours. "It's been non-stop. But passing on missions right now... I don't think that's a good idea."

You sat down beside him, feeling a mix of empathy and worry. "Why not? You need rest, Gojo–kun. Geto–kun’s been shouldering cases too, hasn't he? Surely there's someone else who can take over some of your workload."

“How come you’re formal with me again?” He pouts at you, taking you aback. “I thought I told you to just call me Satoru?”

“You’re my kouhai, and I am your senpai. There’s still degrees of respect—”

“I don’t care.” He retorts back at you, like the brat that he is. “Just call me Satoru, senpai. Please.”

It was evident in the desperation flickering in his bright blue eyes, the glasses perched slightly askew on his nose. Your own gaze, sharp and unwavering, met his own with understanding.

In the years you had known Gojo Satoru, you had sensed the weight he carried—names like Zenin and Gojo, identities tied to clans and powers, but never fully embracing him as an individual. He had yearned to be recognized for himself, as Satoru, not just as a bearer of lineage and strength.

"You're so talkative for someone who's sleepy, Satoru," you remarked with a sigh, breaking the thoughtful silence between you.

His response was a smile tinged with relief, a small spark of joy amidst weariness. "I always feel good when I'm with you, senpai," he confessed sincerely.

"Don't say it like that," you replied, feeling a rush of warmth to your cheeks at his words. You shook off the embarrassment with a playful scoff. "You're too much, aren't you?"

"Only for you, senpai!" he declared with a mischievous grin, his eyes crinkling with affection.

You shake your head at him. “Did you just come here from a mission? Where’s Geto-kun? I thought I told you to take a break?”

Satoru nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Suguru's been handling a mission by himself, again. Haibara and Nanami are already swamped with their duties. The higher-ups are stretched thin as it is. I doubt they’ll give us time to rest.”

You frowned, “They gave me time to rest.”

“I don’t think they’d go against a special–grade Zenin, senpai.” He points it out to you. “‘sides, I doubt that’s lasting long. You’re too valuable in the field.”

You sighed in resignation. “I suppose you’re right. But you can’t keep going on like this. You’re sleeping in unknown places like this. It’s unhealthy.”

He looked at you gratefully, appreciative of your concern. "I know," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But it’s what there is. Besides, are you really going to doubt my six-eyes right now, senpai? No random bum is gonna defeat me.”

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Be that as it may be, I don’t think that you should be out here all by yourself.”

He watches you as you take out your keys. “You really do live here, huh?”

You turned to him. “You were just guessing?”

“Well, not really but I found you!” His grin annoyed you for a moment.

Your eyes narrow as you sighed. "Come on, let's get you inside."

He nodded, still groggy from fatigue, and followed you into your apartment. The weight of his exhaustion seemed to lift slightly as he stepped across the threshold. Satoru's bright blue eyes scanned the cozy interior, taking in every detail.

The living room welcomed him with its warm ambiance—soft, inviting cushions adorned the couch, bathed in the gentle glow of warm lighting. The faint scent of fresh flowers lingered in the air, adding a touch of tranquility to the space.

It felt like a sanctuary, a stark contrast to the sterile and regimented environment of the Jujutsu High dorms where practicality often overshadowed comfort. Here, in your apartment, there was a sense of homeliness that resonated deeply with Satoru.

The walls, adorned with personal touches and memories, spoke of a life lived beyond the battlefield of sorcery. Pictures upon pictures of you and two young women. He could only surmise that it was your friends from Kyoto Jujutsu High. It added a nice touch. But he always gets curious about it all. Still, he doesn't want to put you on the spot.

As he took in the aroma of vanilla essence, he could feel at ease. There was no need for Infinity in this proximity. He was with you. And when he's with you, he's free to be him. He's free to be Satoru. And with you, in this place, he could pretend and set aside the weight of his responsibilities of the strongest far away.

Satoru paused for a moment, taking it all in with a mix of gratitude and relief. He turned to you, a soft smile playing on his lips despite the weariness etched into his features. "Thanks for letting me crash here, senpai." he said, his voice tinged with genuine appreciation.

You returned his smile, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "You're welcome. But next time, please call. I thought were dead, laying outside like that."

"But surprises are way more fun, don't you think?"

You sighed. "It's not fun for me, Satoru. I was going to enjoy my coffee jelly in my peace."

“You really have a nice place.” He says as he starts moving around the pillows to the side. “I really didn’t think that this sketchy place had anything to offer.

“I know the owner, she gave me a discount.”

He looks at you with a raised brow. “Why does a Zenin like you with so much money want a discount?”

“None of your business,” you retorted, setting the grocery bags down on the counter with a soft thud. As you walked over to where Satoru lay sprawled out on the couch, you couldn't help but observe him for a moment, taking in the weariness etched into his features.

“How did you really find my place?” you asked, curiosity tinging your voice.

Satoru gave you a lazy grin, his bright blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “The Six Eyes,” he replied simply, as if it explained everything.

You sighed, shaking your head in mock exasperation. “You’re so...”

“Charming?” he interjected, his grin widening.

“Infuriating,” you finished, though there was a hint of fondness in your tone.

You leaned closer, studying his expression. “Do you have a headache?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

He nodded, his weariness becoming more pronounced. “A little.”

“And by a little, you mean a lot, hm?” you teased gently, knowing well the toll his abilities could take on him.

“It’s not easy trying to narrow down one area, figuring that area out with just your smell in the whole of Nakagyō-ku, you know!” he protested, half-serious, half-playful.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “That sounds like something a stalker would say.”

“Huh!? I’m not a stalker!” Satoru exclaimed, feigning offense.

“Also something a stalker would say,” you teased, unable to resist.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I plead guilty to having heightened senses,” he admitted with a playful glint in his eye.

You chuckled, shaking your head affectionately. “You're incorrigible, Satoru.”

“Only for you, senpai,” he replied with a wink, his playful demeanor melting into a genuine smile.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “Are you hungry? I was just about to prepare dinner.”

“Ah, that would be great, senpai! I’m starving, y’know?” Satoru replied eagerly, sitting up a bit more on the couch, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten in anticipation of a meal.

You chuckled softly at his enthusiasm. “Alright then, let’s get you fed,” you said warmly, turning towards the kitchen with a sense of purpose.

As you began to gather ingredients and pots, the comforting routine of cooking helped ease the tension that often lingered from Satoru’s exhausting missions. You moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, preparing a meal that you knew would both satisfy his hunger and lift his spirits. The rhythmic sounds of chopping vegetables and sizzling in the pan filled the air, creating a soothing background to your conversation.

“So, any exciting stories from your latest mission?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru as you worked.

He leaned back on the couch, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “Oh, you know, the usual—exorcizing curses, saving innocents, the usual hero stuff,” he replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. But then he falters for a moment. “Though, the paper work is going to be a pain!”

You chuckled softly. “You make the physical work so easy.” you remarked, turning back to stir the simmering sauce.

“Well, it’s not always a walk in the park at all.” he admitted with a soft sigh. “But…. knowing someone who can be kind to me about it is with me….about everything. It’s good.”

You grinned. “Didn’t take you to be so emotional about that, Satoru.”

He pouts deeply. “Only you can see it like this, senpai.”

You smiled to yourself, grateful that you could provide him with this small comfort. As the aroma of the cooking food filled the kitchen, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you both—a moment of peace amidst the chaos of their lives as sorcerers.

As you moved around the kitchen, preparing dinner with practiced ease, Satoru couldn't help but watch you with a soft smile playing on his lips. The way you effortlessly navigated the space, your movements graceful and purposeful, captivated him. Each chop of the vegetables, each stir of the simmering pot, seemed like a dance orchestrated by someone who knew the kitchen intimately.

The comforting aroma of food slowly filled the air, mingling with the soft evening light filtering through the windows. Satoru leaned back on the couch, his gaze fixed on you with a warmth that bloomed in his chest. It wasn't just the meal you were preparing—it was the care and thoughtfulness behind it that touched him deeply.

In that moment, amidst the clinking of utensils and the gentle hum of the stove, Satoru realized how fond he had become of you. It wasn't just your strength as a sorcerer or your wisdom as a senpai that drew him in—it was the way you effortlessly made a house into a home, a sanctuary where he could find solace and peace.

"You know," he began, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity, "I think you're spoiling me, senpai."

You turned towards him, a playful glint in your eye as you stirred the pot. "Oh, am I?" you teased gently, your smile warm and inviting.

Satoru chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his gaze lingering on you with unabashed admiration.

As you placed the dishes on the table, the spread before him elicited a delighted grin from Satoru. "This looks amazing, senpai," he praised, his eyes lighting up with genuine appreciation.

You sat down across from him, sharing the meal together in comfortable silence, punctuated by occasional laughter and shared stories. The simple act of enjoying a home-cooked meal with you felt like a cherished moment, a testament to the bond that had grown between you.

And as the evening unfolded, wrapped in the warmth of good food and even better company, Gojo Satoru knew one thing for certain—he was incredibly lucky to have found not just a senpai, but someone who had captured his heart in ways he never expected.

Valentine's Day, 2008, he thought.

This is when it all started for him and you.

History can only get better with time.

2011

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. A year had passed since you married Satoru, and each day felt like a precious gift wrapped in tender moments and quiet smiles. It was something you never imagined for yourself, when you lived in Zenin manor. You never saw a future beyond what you were forced to have then. But here you are, with him, free and content. And it meant the world to you.

He never asked for much from you, always mindful not to overwhelm you with his larger-than-life presence. From the moment he slipped the ring onto your finger, he made it his mission to take care of you, to save you in ways big and small.

Satoru was a good husband—attentive, kind, and always putting your needs first. In the mornings, he would tiptoe around the apartment, making sure not to wake you as he prepared breakfast.

You often woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sight of a beautifully set table, complete with a little note from Satoru that read, "Good morning, wife. Have a great day!"

He found joy in the smallest things, like holding your hand during walks in the park or surprising you with your favorite flowers just because he felt like it. He had an uncanny ability to make you laugh, whether through his goofy antics or his playful teasing. And every night, without fail, he would wrap his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings as you drifted off to sleep.

Satoru's love was a constant, steady presence, like a warm blanket on a cold night. He was always there, ready to catch you when you stumbled, to listen when you needed to talk, and to simply be there when words weren't necessary. His blue eyes, usually so sharp and intense, softened whenever he looked at you, filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

Despite his strength and the immense responsibilities he carried as a sorcerer, Satoru never let it overshadow the gentle, caring man he was with you. He made you feel safe, cherished, and above all, loved. In these walls that build your home, you never once felt out of place. You just instantly felt it. You felt like you belonged here. You felt like you had a place in this world, a purpose to live — because of him.

You don’t know if you were in love with him or if you feel like a wife should feel for one’s husband. But you knew you cared deeply for him. You knew that you wanted only the best for him.

And you want to be able to give it to him. You wanted to do everything in your power to see him smile, to protect his smile. You wanted to make Gojo Satoru feel like he has somewhere he can feel warmth in his humanity.

As your first Valentine's day approached, you found yourself wanting to show him just how much he meant to you. You wanted to thank him for all the ways he cared for you, for the endless patience and unwavering support he offered to you. So in that morning, you woke up early, determined to see him off on his mission. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the curtains.

Satoru was already getting ready, moving quietly around the bedroom. His movements were graceful, almost silent, as he slipped into his uniform. He glanced at you with surprise when he saw you awake, propped up on one elbow, watching him with sleepy eyes.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "You should go back to bed."

You shook your head, blushing slightly as you held out a carefully packed lunch bag. The pink bento box was wrapped neatly in a patterned cloth, a small handwritten note peeking out from underneath. Satoru’s vibrant blue stared at what you were holding, blinking – as though he could not believe what you were holding.

He knows what it is, it's clear to see. It’s like then, in those high–school dramas, where the woman would make the person she cared deeply for a bento, with those cute character designs. Silently, he hoped that it was a digimon–chara bento. He hoped it was Metalgreymon or maybe Skullgreymon.

"I wanted to see you off…." you said softly, your cheeks tinged with pink. “Is that….is that not what you want?”

“N–no, that’s not it.” He responds almost immediately, rubbing the back of his head. He looked shy by what you said, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “It’s just… I didn’t expect you’d be up this early, least of all for me. And doing this bento for me…”

“I–I wanted to!” You tell him, the blush on your face extending to your ears. “I… I don’t know how long you’ll be gone, but I… I wanted to show my appreciation… It’s Valentine's Day, you see…”

Satoru's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and gratitude as he looked at the lunch bag from your hands. His long fingers brushed against yours, sending a warm shiver up your spine.

"You made this for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the delicate moment.

You nodded, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Yes. I wanted to make sure you had something good to eat. You work so hard, Satoru. You deserve it."

Satoru’s eyes softened as he took in your words, his heart swelling with affection. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your flushed cheeks.

“You’re too good to me, y’know?” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Thank you. This means more to me than you know.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his own in a tender gaze. “You work so hard, Satoru. And all at once, you do well in taking care of me too… I just want to make sure you’re taken care of, even when you’re out there.”

He pulled you into another hug, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. “You take care of me in ways I can’t even begin to explain. I should be the one thanking you, darling,” he murmured against your hair. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

He smiled, his eyes shining with a love so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You flatter me.”

“It’s not just empty flattery… it’s from the heart, y’know?”

“I do know.” You smiled gently at him.

“I promise to come back to you as soon as I can, darling.” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “And when I do, we'll celebrate properly.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek softly, pouring all your emotions into that single gesture. You didn’t know what compelled you to do that. But at that moment, it felt appropriate.

It felt like something that you wanted to give him. It was at that moment, an earned gift. After all he had done for you, it was a thankful gentleness. You tried to be as tender as the wind when it brushed against his own cheek.

Satoru froze, stunned at what just happened. He looked at you, unmoving. In that moment, self-awareness brushed through you, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I–I’m sorry," you stammered, stepping back slightly. "I didn’t mean to—"

He cut you off by pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you securely. "Don’t apologize," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "That was... perfect."

You felt his warmth envelop you, and you relaxed into his hold, your heart racing. "I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me," you admitted softly, your voice barely audible.

Satoru pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You have no idea how much that means to me, darling." he said, his gaze intense and filled with affection. "You always know how to make me feel special."

Your blush deepened, but you smiled up at him, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. "You deserve it, Satoru. You deserve all the love and appreciation in the world."

“So do you.” He says, his face scarlet as he smiles at you. “You always will, darling.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise, Satoru.” you whispered against his ear. “Be safe for me, hm?”

Satoru maneuvered his face, his forehead resting against yours. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay?” he said, his voice full of tender affection. “I’ll be counting down the moments until I’m back in your arms.”

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I’ll be waiting for you. Like I always am.”

With one last lingering look, Your husband took the bento from your arms and smiled. You returned it just as brightly. He turned to leave, but he stopped. Your husband lets himself glance back at you with a look that speaks volumes. No one else would have him like this. Only you. He would never let anyone else have this moment.

As he walked out the door, you could only think about looking forward to seeing him come home. Looking forward to having him in your arms, to enjoy a meal together, to laugh together.

You returned to your shared bedroom and smiled as you saw the lilac paper laying on the lamp table. You take the paper in hand and clutched it close to your heart. You take a moment before you read the words again.

"Think of me while I’m gone.”

You sighed, smiling to yourself once more.

You had some things to think over this weekend.

2015

HE COULDN'T DESCRIBE HIS LOVE FOR YOU. It has only been two months since you gave Gojo Satoru the best gift in the world: your little boy, Gojo Satoshi. The cute little boy who looked ever so beautiful, identical to his father, was his beloved, as much as you. And he could not get enough of him. The love that filled his heart seemed to expand with every smile, every coo, and every moment spent with his precious family.

The days had been tiring, filled with the demands of taking care of a newborn, the other children, and maintaining the household while Satoru was away on missions. Despite the exhaustion, you cherished every moment with your family. There was a quiet joy in the simple, everyday moments – the soft giggles of Satoshi, the curious questions from Megumi, and the boundless energy of Tsumiki.

Satoru, on the other hand, felt a profound sense of gratitude and responsibility. Nothing, he thought, would ever be enough to truly repay your love, affection, and the sacrifices you made for him. He was determined to be the best husband and father he could be, to ensure that you felt cherished and supported.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found yourself sitting in the nursery, gently rocking Satoshi in your arms. His tiny fingers clutched at your shirt, his eyes heavy with sleep. You hummed a lullaby softly, feeling a profound sense of peace despite the weariness tugging at your bones.

The door creaked open, and Satoru stepped in, his presence immediately bringing a warmth to the room. He had returned from yet another mission, looking both relieved and concerned. His eyes softened as they landed on you and Satoshi.

"How are my favorite people doing?" he asked quietly, moving to sit beside you.

"Better now that you're home," you replied, offering him a tired but genuine smile.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You look exhausted, darling. Have you been getting any rest?"

You sighed, shaking your head slightly. "It's been a bit chaotic, but it's worth it."

Satoru leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You do so much for us. I wish I could be here more to help."

"You’re here now, and that’s what matters, my love." you said softly, your heart swelling with love for the man who always put his family first.

Suddenly, Satoshi stirred in your arms, letting out a small cry. You started to get up, but Satoru placed a hand on your shoulder. "I’ve got him, don’t get up." he said, taking the baby from your arms with practiced ease.

“You sure? You’re tired too, my love.”

"One hundred percent. Now, go back to sleep." he whispered, his voice tender and soothing. "I'll take care of him."

You nodded, too tired to protest, and watched as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. His touch was warm and reassuring. It always was something so wondrous, when he touches you.

He was ever so gentle, but firm to express its reality. Each and every touch, it was that repetitive, silent promise that he would always be there for you. And you were so happy, so lucky — to have that. You closed your eyes slowly, smiling against the sheets.

Satoru left the room quietly, making his way to Satoshi's room. He sat down on the rocking chair and tenderly took him to be cradled in the bounty of loving arms. He started humming little tunes that Satoshi had loved. Recently, he loved the melody of Hey Jude.

Satoru loved playing that song on your record player. But he thinks that there was no need for the record player. The smile creeping through your son’s lips was enough to tell Satoru that there was no need. His father’s humming was better.

As he rocked Satoshi back to sleep, Satoru’s thoughts were filled with a profound sense of purpose and love. He wanted to be a good father, a good husband. He wanted to create a world where you and the children felt loved and safe.

Satoru gazed down at Satoshi, the baby’s delicate features illuminated by the soft glow of the nursery lamp. The tiny rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the way his fingers occasionally twitches in his sleep—it all filled Satoru with a deep, unwavering resolve.

“I’ll do everything I can to protect you, little dawn.” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “To protect all of you, your papa will do anything and everything.”

His mind wandered to the future, to the life he wanted to build for his family. He envisioned laughter filling the rooms of your home, the sound of Satoshi’s giggles blending with the playful banter of Megumi and Tsumiki. He imagined quiet, peaceful moments where he could simply hold you close, knowing that you were safe and content.

“My little dawn, you were such a gift. You always will be.” Satoru smiles tenderly. “You will always be the proof of mama and papa’s love. And we’ll love you forever. Big sister ‘miki' and big brother ‘gumi will all love you a lot too, hm? Always know that, little dawn.”

In that moment, as Satoshi's cries turned to soft murmurs and then silence, Satoru felt a deep sense of contentment. He looked back towards the bedroom where you slept.

Satoru knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure you never had to carry the weight of the world alone. Satoru looked down at his son, who was now gazing up at him with wide, curious eyes. He couldn't help but smile as he gently rocked Satoshi in his arms.

"What should I do to thank your mom for being everything in my life?" he asked softly, his voice Filled with affection, Satoru gazed down at Satoshi, cradling his tiny body against his chest. “It’s going to be Valentine’s Day soon, little dawn. What do you think Papa should do for Mama?”

Satoshi let out a cute, nonsensical babble, his tiny hands reaching up towards Satoru's face. His fingers brushed against Satoru’s cheek, and he responded with a soft chuckle, pressing a gentle kiss to his son's forehead.

"You’re right," Satoru said, as if Satoshi had given the most profound advice. "I should take care of her just like she takes care of us."

Satoshi gurgled in response, his big eyes sparkling with curiosity and innocence. Satoru’s heart swelled with love for his little boy and for you, the woman who had given him such a precious gift. Satoru wonders what he had done to be this happy. To have such wonder in his life, to be able to love and live. He sighed in contentment.

Gently swaying with Satoshi in his arms, Satoru began to plan a special Valentine’s Day. He thought about all the little things you loved—flowers, quiet moments of affection, and simple gestures that spoke volumes. He wanted to create a day that would remind you of how cherished you were, not just as his partner, but as the heart of their family.

Later, as he tucked Satoshi back into his crib, he whispered, “We’ll make it a day she’ll never forget, won’t we, little dawn?”

Once Satoshi fell back asleep, Satoru carefully placed him back in his crib. With quiet determination, he set about cleaning the house and doing the laundry. He wanted you to wake up to a peaceful, tidy home, a small gesture to show his appreciation for all you did.

As the morning light filtered through the windows, he moved to the kitchen and started breakfast for Megumi and Tsumiki, who were already beginning to stir. The smell of pancakes and eggs soon filled the air, and he could hear the kids shuffling down the hallway.

Megumi entered the kitchen first, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. "Morning, Gojo-sensei," he mumbled sleepily.

Satoru chuckled, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. "Morning, Megumi. Did you sleep well?"

Megumi nodded, glancing over at the table set with plates and utensils. "Yeah. This looks good."

Tsumiki followed closely, her face lighting up at the sight of breakfast. "Wow, Satoru-san, this looks amazing!" She hopped up onto a chair, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Good morning, ‘miki!" Satoru greeted warmly, a smile brightening his face as Tsumiki bounded into the kitchen. "I thought we'd have a nice family breakfast today."

Tsumiki's eyes widened with delight, her cheeks flushed with happiness. "Ah, that’s so lovely, Satoru-san! Thank you so much for your hard work!" She hopped up onto a chair, her excitement palpable.

Megumi, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, glanced at his plate and then at Satoru. "Thank you….I guess." he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled.

Satoru chuckled, pouring some syrup over his pancakes. "You're welcome, Megumi. Now go on. Eat!" He gestured with a playful nudge, encouraging them both to tuck into the breakfast he had prepared.

As they ate, Satoru glanced between them with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "So, what do you two have planned for Valentine's Day?" he asked, genuinely curious about their intentions for the day dedicated to love and affection.

Megumi blushed slightly, looking down at his plate. "I... I wrote a card for Gen-san," he admitted shyly. “And….maybe…”

Satoru raised a brow. “Maybe what?”

“....a hug.”

“A hug?” Satoru starts to grin. “Well, you know that bear hugs are encouraged. I really think it would be a fantastic Valentine’s day gift!”

Tsumiki beamed, "Me too! I worked really hard on my card too. And the paper flowers that I made! I can't wait for Gen–san to see it!"

Satoru's heart swelled with pride. "Gen is going to love them, both of you. You know how much Gen appreciates the things you do."

As he finished breakfast with the kids, Satoru felt a swell of pride and love for his family. Sitting around the table together, sharing smiles and conversation, filled him with a deep sense of fulfillment.

Megumi and Tsumiki were growing up so fast, each with their own quirks and personalities, yet united in their affection for you, the person they saw as their mother. They made him proud every day, not just with their accomplishments, but with the way they cared for and appreciated you.

Watching them interact, seeing how they expressed their love for you in their own unique ways, warmed Satoru's heart. Megumi's quiet thoughtfulness and Tsumiki's bubbly enthusiasm were reflections of the love and happiness you nurtured in their lives. It was a joy to witness how they cherished you, and he couldn't help but feel blessed to have such a loving family.

They were his world, and he was determined to make sure they knew it every single day. The love and warmth in their home were palpable, a testament to the bond they shared.

Satoru knew, without a doubt, that this was what mattered most—being together, supporting each other, and creating moments of happiness and love. It was all you deserved, and that realization made Satoru's heart swell with gratitude and affection for the family he cherished beyond measure.

You woke up to the sun streaming brightly through the windows, a gentle warmth filling the room. Surprised by how rested you felt, you stretched leisurely in bed before deciding to start your day. As you made your way through your home, a sense of calm settled over you, a stark contrast to the usual morning rush.

Entering the kitchen, you were met with a heartwarming scene that made your heart swell with love. Satoru stood at the sink, a baby strap securely fastened around him, gently swaying to a soft melody as he sang to Satoshi. The little bundle of joy in his arms giggled happily, tiny hands reaching out to playfully grab at Satoru's nose. It was a sight that melted away any lingering stress or fatigue from the day before.

Satoru glanced over his shoulder as he noticed you, a warm smile spreading across his face. He carefully set aside the dish he had been cleaning and moved to greet you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Good morning," he whispered softly, his voice filled with the tenderness reserved for moments like these.

You couldn't help but smile back, your heart swelling with love for the man who always managed to surprise you with his thoughtfulness. "Good morning," you replied, your voice laced with a mixture of awe and gratitude. "You've already done so much."

"I wanted to make sure you woke up to a peaceful morning," Satoru said, his gaze never leaving yours. "And now that you're here, we can enjoy it together."

You moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was steady and comforting, a reminder of the love that bound your family together.

"Thank you, ’toru." you murmured softly, your words carrying the weight of all the love and appreciation you felt.

Satoru pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his embrace tightening ever so slightly. "I love you, darling." he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

"I love you too, my love." you replied, your heart overflowing with happiness as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, grateful for the peaceful moments that made life so beautiful. “So much. You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "I want to. You deserve to have a break and enjoy today, darling. You deserve it."

You leaned in and kissed him again, feeling a rush of warmth and love. "I don't deserve you. You’re so good to me, my love." you murmured against his lips.

Satoru chuckled, his arms wrapping around you. "It's me who doesn't deserve you, darling." he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

"Happy Valentine's Day." you whispered, your heart beating for him just as strongly as it did on the day you first fell in love.

You wish that all the years would be like this too.

You wish that you could just be this happy everyday.

And you know, Satoru wishes the same thing too.

2018

YOU COULD ONLY SIGH. It had been two months since Suguru's passing, and the grief weighed heavily on Satoru's shoulders. The loss of his friend and colleague, coupled with the memories of the events that led to Suguru's death, haunted him deeply. In an attempt to cope, Satoru abandoned his iconic Ryomen Sukuna bandages, which once symbolized his strength and resolve. Now, they served as a painful reminder of the sacrifices and difficult choices he had made.

Instead, he turned to light-sensitive dark glasses, a practical solution that shielded his sensitive eyes from the harshness of light. You observed him with a mix of compassion and concern, knowing how much he had endured. The headaches that came with his new eyewear only added to his burden, and you were determined to find ways to alleviate his discomfort.

Each day, you saw him struggle, his once vibrant energy tempered by moments of pain and fatigue. It pained you deeply to witness his suffering, knowing there was little you could do to ease the emotional weight he carried. Yet, your presence and unwavering support offered him a steady anchor in turbulent times.

One day, you decided to visit Shoko with Satoshi in tow. The atmosphere in Shoko's office was calming, the shelves lined with medical journals and the faint scent of antiseptic in the air. Satoshi, ever curious and energetic, was happily occupied with the marbles Shoko had graciously given him, rolling them around on the floor with childlike delight.

While Satoshi played, you took a moment to discuss Satoru's condition with Shoko. Sitting across from her, you felt a wave of relief knowing you could confide in someone who understood the complexities of sorcerer life and its toll on those like Satoru. Shoko, with her gentle demeanor and sharp intellect, listened attentively as you described Satoru's struggles since Suguru's passing.

"He's been finding it difficult to wear the Ryomen bandages," you explained softly, glancing over at Satoshi, who was absorbed in arranging the marbles into a pattern. "They remind him too much of what he had to do. So, he's been using the light-sensitive dark glasses instead."

Shoko nodded understandingly, her expression thoughtful. "It's not uncommon for Satoru’s six–eyes to develop sensitivities after intense situations, missions.” she mused, her brown eyes flickering with concern. "The emotional and physical strain can manifest in various ways. And right now, it’s truly emotional. I think you just have to be patient with him.”

You sighed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you shared your worries with Shoko. "I know….but it hurts to see him suffer like this, Sho. The headaches have been growing more frequent." you admitted, your voice tinged with concern. "I'm worried about how much it's affecting him."

Shoko offered a reassuring smile."I know. But right now, you can give him some space. He’ll come around to it and realize that he needs to give himself something to stop the headaches.”

You pondered for a moment, your lips pursed in contemplation. "Do you think... there's some material that could help with his Six Eyes? Something that might alleviate the strain?" you asked Shoko, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Shoko considered your question thoughtfully, her expression thoughtful as she leaned back in her chair. "It's possible," she began slowly, her gaze thoughtful. "We could explore materials that are less abrasive on his sensory abilities. Perhaps something with a softer weave or a special enchantment that filters out excessive stimuli."

Encouraged by Shoko's supportive words, you felt a renewed sense of determination. Her acknowledgment of your care for Satoru reassured you that your efforts were worthwhile.

"Thank you, Shoko," you said sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude for her understanding and encouragement. "I'll do my best to make something that will really help him."

Shoko nodded with a reassuring smile. "Take your time, and don't hesitate to reach out if you need any assistance. I'm here to help in any way I can."

With a grateful nod, you bid farewell to Shoko and headed home, your mind already racing with ideas and plans. As you walked, Satoshi's cheerful babbling filled the air, a constant source of joy and motivation. You smiled warmly, his innocent excitement lifting your spirits even higher.

Suddenly, Satoshi stopped and pointed excitedly to a shop window. "Mama, here!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with enthusiasm as he tugged at your hand. You chuckled at his excitement, bending down to his level to see what had caught his attention.

You peered into the shop window and saw a display of colorful fabrics and various sewing supplies. Some of the fabrics were vibrant and eye-catching, while others were soft and gentle to the touch. Satoshi's small hand pointed to a bright blue fabric with tiny stars scattered across it, his excitement palpable.

"Good eye, Satoshi!" you praised him, ruffling his hair affectionately. "That's a beautiful fabric."

He grinned up at you, his excitement undiminished. "Papa will like it!"

"Yes, I think he will." you agreed with a smile, feeling a surge of determination to create something special for Satoru using the fabric Satoshi had chosen. “Good job, Satoshi!”

He grinned. “Satoshi–kun, the best!”

You looked at your son, his excitement contagious, and smiled. "You're so smart," you said, giving him a gentle pat on the head.

Flash forward to Valentine's Day. Satoru had made it a tradition to take the day off so that the two of you could celebrate together, and this year was no exception. As you stirred awake in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, you found Satoru in the kitchen, quietly preparing breakfast. His light-sensitive dark glasses were perched on his nose, a testament to the ongoing struggle with his heightened senses.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of pancakes and strawberries, filling the air with a comforting warmth. Satoru turned to greet you with a soft smile as you entered the kitchen, his eyes tender as they met yours. Despite the exhaustion and challenges you both faced, his love and dedication never faltered.

"Good morning, darling," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I thought we could start the day with a special breakfast."

You couldn't help but smile back, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Satoru," you replied, your voice filled with love and gratitude. "It smells amazing."

As you sat down together at the table, the morning sun bathed the room in a golden glow, casting a warm hue over the cozy kitchen. The soft sounds of birds chirping outside added to the tranquil atmosphere, contrasting with the usual hustle and bustle of the day.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the tantalizing scent of pancakes filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop for your conversation. Everything about today was going to be good. You just know it. It always was, when you're with Satoru.

As you sipped your coffee, the warmth spreading through you, you began discussing your plans for Valentine's Day. Satoru listened attentively, his dark glasses reflecting the soft light from the window as he nodded in response to your suggestion.

"I was thinking," you started, setting your mug down gently on the table, "we should go to the zoo with Satoshi and Megumi, and then visit Tsumiki in the hospital."

Satoru considered your proposal, his expression thoughtful yet warm. "That sounds doable," he agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "And then dinner together later?"

You nodded, returning his smile. "Yes, dinner together sounds perfect," you replied softly. "It'll be a wonderful day."

He grinned warmly at your remark about the plan for the day. The anticipation of spending time together as a family and celebrating the occasion filled the room with an air of excitement and joy.

"That sounds like a grand plan," Satoru said with enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling behind his dark glasses.

You returned his grin, feeling a warmth spreading through your heart. "Speaking of something grand," you began, your voice filled with affection, "I also have a gift for you."

His curiosity piqued, Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You didn't have to get me anything," he insisted gently.

"I wanted to," you replied softly, handing him a neatly wrapped box. "Open it."

Carefully, Satoru unwrapped the gift, his fingers moving deliberately over the wrapping paper. As he lifted the lid of the box, his eyes widened in genuine surprise and admiration. Inside lay an exquisitely crafted eye blindfold, made with intricate care and attention to detail.

"Satoru, I sewed it!" you explained, a hint of nervousness in your voice. "But Satoshi helped pick out the fabric, and Megumi tested it out. It's been blessed at the Mikoto Shrine by me. It's a family affair!"

He was speechless for a moment, his gaze fixed on the blindfold in his hands. The craftsmanship and thoughtfulness behind the gift touched him deeply. Slowly, he looked up at you, his cerulean eyes softening with deep emotion.

"You made this?" he asked, his voice filled with awe and gratitude.

You nodded, a shy smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him. "I wanted you to have something special," you admitted softly, your heart fluttering with warmth at his reaction.

"Besides, I know it's hard to use the bandages now. And I just... I want you to have something that drives away the pain and helps you with your headaches."

Satoru set the blindfold down gently, his expression softening as he pulled you into a tender embrace. His arms wrapped around you securely. He doesn't want to ever let you go. Not in his entire life.

"Thank you, darling." he murmured against your hair, his voice filled with heartfelt gratitude. "You always know how to make me feel special."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. "You don’t have to thank me." you whispered, your voice tinged with emotion. "I love you. More than anything."

"I love you too, darling." Satoru replied softly, his words a gentle caress against your ear. His embrace tightened, as if he never wanted to let you go. “Always.”

You leaned into his embrace, your heart swelling with love for the man who meant everything to you. "Happy Valentine's Day, Satoru." you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

His embrace tightened briefly, a silent reassurance of his love and gratitude. "Happy Valentine's Day, my darling." he replied softly, his voice tinged with affection. "I love you more than words can express."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your home and the love that filled the air, you knew that this Valentine's Day would be one to remember—a day where your love for each other blossomed even brighter.

You looked forward to next year’s Valentine’s day.

You wanted to have the same joy and happiness.

You prayed that you and Satoru would have that.

epilogue

The day at the zoo was perfect. You, Satoru, and Satoshi wandered through the exhibits, enjoying the beautiful weather and the excitement in Satoshi's eyes as he marveled at the animals. Satoru wore the blindfold you had made for him, and you couldn't help but think how good he looked in it. The fabric was soft and stylish, and it seemed to suit him perfectly.

As you approached the ocean exhibit, you spotted Megumi making his way towards you. He had stayed at the dorms for his lessons but had managed to follow and catch up with you. You waved at him enthusiastically.

"Megumi!" you called out, hurrying over to him.

Megumi smiled shyly and allowed you to hug him. Then he bent down to scoop up Satoshi, who squealed with delight at the sight of his older brother. "Nii-chan!"

When Megumi finally set Satoshi down, he looked up and saw Satoru standing there with open arms, a playful grin on his face. "Megumi-yannnn, aren't you going to give me a hug too?"

Megumi's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and he tried to hide in his oversized uniform. He started laughing, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. "Huh!? Megumi, what's so funny?" Satoru asked, pretending to be offended.

Megumi shook his head, still chuckling, as he took a step back. "Nothing, nothing," he said, trying to stifle his laughter.

Satoru pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine, be that way," he said, but his eyes were twinkling with mischief.

You watched the exchange with a warm smile, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Your family, despite all the challenges and hardships, had found moments of joy and connection. And in those moments, you knew that everything was going to be okay. As long as you were together, it always will be.

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duffsmckagan · 4 months ago

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DEBORAH FROST, DOKKEN, GROUPIES, HEAVY METAL, JAMES HETFIELD, KIRK HAMMETT, METALLICA, MONSTERS OF ROCK

Stories From The Road: Deborah Frost and Metallica

In Deborah Frost, Stories From the Road, music on December 7, 2008 at 2:28 pm

By Deborah Frost

“I once walked into the dressing room of a very huge metal band well, they were not quite as huge then as they are now, oh what the hell, they are probably the biggest band in the world Metallica (and they didnt get that way without airing their own dirty laundry very publicly from revealing in various cover stories tales of the drummer being fellated under the stage nightly during the bass solo to the somewhat drippier venereal complications).

Anyway, they were somewhere in the middle of the bill on one of those late 1980s Monsters of Rock concerts at RFK Stadium in Washington, I think it was. There was a lot of waiting around in the days they were all lumped together without their own private jets or drivers and everyone seemed to be in a grumpy mood, particularly James Hetfield, who was sitting next to two fairly unattractive girls who could have been models only for one of those BEFORE acne-medication ads.

Instead of his usual warm greeting, James barely grunted at me that he was doing an interview. Which was a little strange, given that he was not really even having a conversation with the skinnier one of the two girls, who was not equipped with any of the usual tools of the trade, like a tape recorder or pencil or piece of paper, only a flimsy little sun-dress which was only remarkable in its cheapness and that it was fairly inappropriate for the weather but did reveal all of her other lack of equipment in every other department.

James suddenly got up, jerking her by the wrist, and disappeared toward the bathroom where other members of the crew and band were, eager to try out the brand new little video cameras (they had just come on the market) they had been playing with. Kirk Hammett also grabbed what I called my Helen Keller camera one of those point and shoot 35 mm things (this was in the pre-digital era) that even she could have operated.

There was a great deal of commotion when James discovered that Kirk was holding them both over the top of the bathroom stall where well, several months later, when I had forgotten all about it and the prints came back from the developer, I was shocked to discover, right in the middle of some happy family vacation, exactly what he was doing with this young lady crouched on the toilet and could not believe that I had not been arrested for pornography. Then again, maybe that only happens if it involves pictures of children and it was VERY clear in vivid living color that James was NO child.

It was almost the end of Metallica as we knew it, when James suddenly roared out of the bathroom, grabbing Kirk by the throat with one hand and the video camera, from which he ripped the film, with the other, before stomping on it and practically smashing the guitarists head against the wall as he begged for mercy.”

#tw: violence #poor kirk #classic rock #metallica #kirk hammett #james hetfield #Deborah Frost #thrash metal #groupies #groupie

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perictione00 · 1 year ago

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Selfish

Ch 5: Betrayal

Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader

Warnings: Manipulation, deception, cheating, use of curse words and mentions of murder.

Synopsis: You left the Jujutsu World behind the moment the source of your warmth turned cold. So what happens when you come face to face with that one episode in your life that you wanted to obliterate? Simple, you reap what you sow.

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Ch 4

2011

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I had it in control."

"Yeah, sure, you did. I could see that you were enjoying it even."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me!"

"I can't believe this. I'm doing exactly what you want."

"I don't remember wanting you all over the monkeys."

"All over the monkeys? Suguru, I'm trying to win their trust to get the funds. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Your soft porn presentation won't get us any-"

"Oh yeah, and killing them will? Soft porn presentation, right? That's how you think of me? I'm here trying to maintain order and secrecy in this organization that you are hellbent on broadcasting to the whole fucking world by killing every non-sorcerer in sight, and you tell me that I'm the problem? Hah, gimme a break."

"Listen-"

"I'm done listening to your bullshit. I'll talk to you when I think you deserve it."

You left the room without a word, enraged at his buffoonery. Things changed a lot in the last year, but you still couldn't comprehend how it came to this. Frequent fights at the dinner table became commonplace. It was embarrassing how the expression of anger, something that you considered very personal, happened in front of his inner circle. How Mimiko and Nanako would come by to explain his point on his behalf. And at night, he would come to your room to apologize in the best ways possible, only to repeat his mistakes again the very next day.

He was more violent than ever now, as if the barriers that kept his fury in check were shattered by the force of his hatred for non-sorcerers, and somehow it slipped into the personal space that he shared with you. Suddenly, he was more rigorous about your appearances and meetings with them. Minimizing your interactions and reducing your role in the organization. You were sure you hadn't done anything wrong, so it felt unfair to face such consequences.

Geto doesn't know when it started. Maybe it was the time when some deadmeat of a man had the audacity to stare in your direction too long, or the time when a fucking politician asked you out during negotiations, or the time you encountered Nanami on a random day and froze. Yeah, maybe it was Nanami all along. It was then that he realized how jealous of a man he was. He knew that you loved him, but he feared that one day you might not feel the same way for him when you discover what he dreadfully and desperately wanted to hide from you.

It was in 2008 that he actually manipulated the entity and located its position inside of you for the first time. Funnily enough, of all places, it had latched itself onto your heart. That's not all there is to it, though. The curse reached out to him in some way that day, in the coffee shop. And although Geto doesn't know how, he communicated with it. It felt like it was calling out to him. He could hear the voices in your head, and it scared him of the possibility that if you gave in, you might be lost forever. However, exorcising the curse was out of the question, so he made the choice that served his interests and his greed.

He doesn't feel guilty, but he surely feels insecure about your relationship with him. Do you really love him, or does it have something to do with that creature? Day by day, he is becoming more paranoid regarding your whereabouts, the people you meet, and the people you talk to. He can no longer fathom the thought of having you out of his sights. He would keep you isolated if it ensured your safety. Geto knows how it sounds; regardless, he wants to hold onto the only remaining thread of humanity, you, forever.

And that's how he met Miguel. In spite of your rare condition, African sorcerers seemed to know quite a lot about it. From various sources of myths and legends, these abominations were said to exist from birth, and here's the twist: their emergence was marked by incantations of a human ritual, deliberately done in order to sentence an individual to a lifetime of hell. Suguru might be a folly of a man, but even he wouldn't wish that for a human child, maybe because he wouldn't want one to be born in the first place. Humans were pityful creatures, and your case was just another reflection of their harmful desires.

He wondered if you noticed the absence of nightmares or how he insisted on always being by your side in your unconscious state. He remains uncertain of the nature of your response upon revelation of the extent of his dominion over the entity, so like a coward, he continues to shroud this from you. Geto Suguru was sure that he was helplessly hooked on you, and he didn't like sharing, so of course he killed every non-sorcerer that had the privilege of coming in close proximity to you. He was so accustomed to your presence that he felt suffocated without you. It infuriated him whenever you would beg for mercy for a monkey. Were you forgetting the end goal? Or did you start losing faith in the cause and in him? He couldn't deduce why you would waste your energy on a pathetic soul. Why would he find your scarve in the pocket of a non-sorcerer he killed? And why would you accept gifts from non-sorcerers? He wasn't delusional about addressing these things, right?

Geto Suguru was an enigmatic leader, a great friend, and an even better lover. He came back for you when you needed him the most. Just when you thought it was the end of the line for you, he rescued you like a knight in shining armor. You were grateful for him. He collected the scattered pieces of your life that were falling apart in front of your eyes and molded them into something worth living for. He presented you with a sense of comfort that you craved. You were grateful. But why were all these feelings vanishing? Why was your voice breaking? Why were tears of betrayal escaping your eyes? Why was he kissing someone who was not you?

There it was. The voices were back again, worse than ever. Taunting you for ever believing that you deserved happiness. You had given up on your morals, on your one true family for him. You would've given up your life for him. So why would he do this to you? Were you just another asset, a stepping stone to achieving his purpose? He dared question your loyalties while actually being the guilty one. You wanted to move, but you needed to be sure. There was nothing to hold on to, yet you wanted to believe in him. You hoped it wasn't real. Unfortunately it was. He didn't stop. You wanted to scream at him, confront him, and slap him. But it would've been too lenient, and you didn't want that. You wanted to hurt him so bad. Right where it hurts.

It was all a fucking joke. He made a joke out of you. And you wanted to return the favor twofold. So you picked up your cellphone and called him.

"Hello Kento?"

Ch 6

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freebooter4ever · 8 months ago

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ok i've been taking a break for the past half hour and doing research on the pens locker room, trying to figure out how i wanted to design my own version of geno's 'stall' (is that what it's called?). i love the circular shape it feels very king arthur

first, there isn't a lot of internet documented history on the various eras of the locker room design??? which seems sad

don't get me wrong the latest iteration is pretty epic but as far is i can tell, it hasn't changed much since at least 2013? i do not envy whoever is cleaning this place. thats a lot of sweat over the years.

second, im enjoying seeing little details that i had no idea existed, being a new fan and all. like the puck wins count???? crazy. these guys have a visual representation of how they're doing in the season right up there on the wall glaring judgmentally at them? im so glad im not in sports. i would not survive.

especially when the HISTORY of these pucks is on the walls.....like damn. talk about pressure. anyway 2011-2012 thats one of geno's best seasons right? :)

this is what I wanted. mesh, hooks, I need to figure out how i want to make this look cool.

i find it really funny and endearing that the thing these guys do to relax in down time is a playful version of their own job....

also im not sure about this like:

are they assigned a razor??? you get traded to the penguins and suddenly you're not allowed to use your fancy expensive specialized razor? is this a normal thing in hockey????? do they have group shaves for special events like the playoffs? hockey players are fascinating.

i dont know why but i never considered that the pens have actual lockers in addition to the little seats in the main locker room. this makes total sense. i dont know where i thought their clothes and stuff went. just disappeared into the ether i guess.

anyway definitely a necessity, the hot tub. it looks a little sad and lonely in this photo. it needs a hockey player in it.

racks and racks of gear???? again this makes total sense but never occurred to me. also maybe helps explain why geno likes to switch up gloves, look at all them, damn. i do wonder about helmets still - geno's looks so unique and he's been using the same design since at least 2009.

ok im guessing this is an away locker room and i have only one question: do they bring a little 'logo' carpet to roll out every time they go on the road? thats amazing.

if you read all that, nice! here's a shot of geno with his jock out:

very important locker room research. bonus the earliest pens locker room photo of geno i could find:

shy beautiful boy ^_^ (also he looks so young and vulnerable its hard to believe that even back in 2008/2009 he already had so much responsibility with so many grown adults making demands on his entire career)(like he went through all that AND is still playing in the league with three cups under his belt? thats fucking awesome)

#malkin

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sunjaesol · 25 days ago

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soljae | one shot, different timeline | prompt: memory

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

SUMMER OF 2016, SUNJAE (26 YEARS OLD)

Loud chatter filled the kimbap shop on the corner of Seooreung-ro 8-gil and Yeongmal-ro 8-gil. A family-owned joint loved by the locals in the neighbourhood and left alone by tourists due to its innocuous front. But inside, customers gladly stuffed themselves around tables like sardines.

Not only because of the incredible and cheap kimbap, but because for years, the restaurant has televised the summer and winter Olympics. It was basically tradition for all the neighbours to congregate and watch together. Including Ryu Sunjae.

Though he didn't live in this neighbourhood anymore, he grew up here. The uncles and aunties loved to see him come around, using the Olympics as a way to reunite with the man that used to be the pride of their community. Not many around here went from professional swimmer to popular drama actor.

The man beside him yelled at the TV in frustration as the Korean gymnast fell off the beam. "Ya, how difficult is it to balance?! My child can do that!"

Sunjae withheld a smirk, taking a sip from his beer instead. Typical commentary.

"Sunjae-ssi!" An older woman, one of his previous neighbours, pushed herself between some people to reach him. She gaped at him. "Ah, you grew again, didn't you? How is that possible?"

Kindly smiling, he shook his head. "I didn't, Ms. Oh. We just haven't seen each other in a while."

Ms. Oh slurped on her pink lemonade. Her hands were pruning from the cold glass. "Maybe. You should come around more often."

"Ah, you know I'm busy filming dramas, Ms. Oh," he trailed.

Unperturbed by his comment, she droned on. "Are you dating anyone yet? I can introduce you to my niece. She's also into the arts—a dance major at university. I'm not really sure what she'll do with it, but I'm sure you two will get along."

Ms. Oh babbled on about her niece, but Sunjae sort of tuned her out. This song and dance became more common with each passing year. Moms and aunts and grandmothers throwing their unwilling and unsuspecting female family members at him as though that still subscribed to the modern ways of dating.

Then again, Sunjae couldn't really judge. He didn't dating. He wasn't even trying.

It wasn't that he didn't find women attractive, but he just never felt... it. He didn't entirely know what 'it' was, but he knew that feeling had to capture him first before he made any move.

Maybe that made him just as old-fashioned as Ms. Oh. Taesung and Inhyuk would say so. They dated casually as a sport.

The intense slurping of Ms. Oh brought him out of his train of thought. His eyes fell on the drink. Pink lemonade. It was kind of funny seeing an old lady drink such a childish soda. When was the last time he had that?

Olympics 2008, right?

Sunjae paused on the thought and frowned. Olympics 2008... Olympics 2008... he swore he watched the gymnasts here with Inhyuk. Right?

His gaze didn't move from the drink. Pink lemonade. Pink lemonade. Sweet. Sweet and sticky and two in each hand. Though smaller hands than his own. Softer, too. Pink lemonade. Pink lemonade. Pink headband. Pink sneakers. Pink smile.

A deep wrinkle broke the plane of his forehead. Why was he remembering something that didn't happen?

Looking away from the drink, he suddenly found himself outside in the park, surrounded by sportsfans screaming at the giant cinema-screen set up before them.

"Sunjae-ah!"

He whirled around at the faraway voice. High-pitched and sweet. Blood pounded in his ears. Sweat formed on his temple.

What was going on? Where was he?

"Sunjae-ah!"

His heart wasn't supposed to be beating this fast, right? Clutching his chest, he sought for the voice, eyes frantically slipping from stranger to stranger.

"Ya, are you blind or something?!" The voice appeared right at his side.

But just as he caught a glimpse of a pink headband, long dark hair, and two pink lemonades in plastic cups, Sunjae was hurled back to the present.

It was akin whiplash; the way Sunjae staggered back and slammed into a man's back. He was heaving, his breaths irregular and his arms shaking. A panic attack? He hasn't had one of thoses in forever.

"Sunjae-ssi?" Ms. Oh appeared in front of his troubled eyes. She looked concerned. "You need air. Let's go outside."

"Who– wha��?" he tried. "Who was—?"

Ms. Oh ignored his stammering and ushered him outside with the grip of a lady who has seen it all. Humid air hit his cheeks, only adding to his unease. Sunjae slumped against the front of the shop.

"Stay here for a bit. Calm down," she ordered. With a disapproving tut, she pushed her lemonade into his hand. "And drink this. You're probably dehydrated."

Without another word, Ms. Oh returned inside.

Sunjae stared at the cup in his hand. He couldn't think. Or no: he couldn't comprehend. Logically, he knew that had to be some crazy hallucination. His imagination running away with his sanity and dropping it in some random park.

But he knew, intrinsically, that it wasn't a hallucination. It was a memory. His memory.

Only... not from here. A different 2008, but the same Sunjae.

And with a girl. A girl he couldn't remember.

#lovely runner #lovely runner fanfiction #soljae #ryu sunjae #im sol #my work

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kay9leo · 6 days ago

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WIP Tag Game

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

@myokk tagged me and seeing how I needed something to get me back into the writing world again after a hiatus, this seems like a good way to get back in 🤗

So while not a "true" WIP, it's an idea stuck in my head since in my original WIP (written and hidden in my computer files) of where Iñaki Martinez Cariaga (or MC) is used, I have Hogwarts Legacy take place in the late 2000s...but what if Iñaki's Ancient magic takes her back in time...to the year 1890? As a play on the name of a title of a famous Mark Twain book, I present a small snidget of an idea that's been flying circles in my head:

A New York Yankee in Hogwarts' Courtyard, 1890

Iñaki walked around Hogsmeade, trying to reconcile the past with the future wizarding village that she remembered before she was sent back in time over more than a hundred years ago.

Hogsmeade was still Hogsmeade with its quint shops, townhouses and stone ruins nearby its town entrance, but it was also different from how she remembered back in 2008.

For one, the MCC or the Muggleborn Cultural Center hasn't been made yet, a place where all muggleborns would go to get a taste of home away from home (even though it wasn't truly a taste of home for her, with her home being an ocean away in New York). Two, the Shrieking Shack building didn't exist yet and three, there was no Tim Howards Coffee Shops yet - the only American magical coffee shop chain that somehow made it across the pond.

If you think about it, I might be able to run into Tim Howards when he's still a baby in this time period. He doesn't become a famous Quidditch player until the 1920s. Iñaki frowned at that thought.

"So, what do you think? Is Hogsmeade up to your standing Yank?"

Iñaki blinked out of her thoughts and looked over to her right to see a brown haired boy, Sebastian Sallow giving her a confident smile despite the nervous look in his eyes. He was currently giving her the grand tour of the place. To her surprise, Sebastian wasn't the cocky boy he made himself out to be before the duel that he lost in DADA class. The entire walk, Sebastian was friendly, jolly and curious about her homelife back in America, never once meeting a Yankee. Soon that became her nickname when he saw how it made her smile as he asked questions to get to know about her a bit more.

It was hard to be tight lipped about her homeland. Especially as far as he and everyone but Professor Fig knew, she was just another girl from their era and out of her element because she was the new kid in a new country and NOT being stuck in the wrong time period. She had to be careful about what she said, to reveal little about the future as possible like Professor Fig and all those time traveling books and movies taught her before.

While she ran into some more recognizable names - Weasleys were a dime a dozens, Prewett was an extinct family name in her time period with their remaining line married into one of the Weasleys' family branches and Gaunt was the original family name of the founder of Ilvermorny- there were a few she didn't recognized.

Onai was one. So was Sweeting. And then there was Sallow.

Sebastian Sallow was a name that rang a small bell in her head, but she couldn't remember for what reason it was for as she smiled at its owner with a light smile as she pulled up a half lie.

"I think it's cute, like it's from a storybook. It reminds me of another wizarding village I visited in the past at home..." Or was it future? It didn't matter, it's in my past now... Iñaki thought with a small painful smile as she looked over the smaller village in this era.

"You really miss home, don't you Iñaki?" Sebastian said as he placed his hand on her shoulder. Iñaki looked up to him with a tight smile, fighting back tears that suddenly appeared in her eyes.

"Who me?" Iñaki chuckled, waving her hand off playfully as if she could physically fight off the emotional pains that came every time she thought about the new country she found herself in due to her dad's new job, the time period that she didn't belong to or the possible reality she might be stuck here for good and might never see her parents, family, friends or even her neighbor's pet dog ever again.

Heck, she might be in the history books of another country and her loved ones would never know what happened to her.

And if she let one tear escape, the whole dam would break and she wasn't certain if she would survive the floods of her emotional pain since she woke up in 1890 after accidentally tampering with a magical place she thought nothing of. It wasn't like it was a time turner. Just a bunch of standing stones that reminded her of Stonehenge that stood in up in a forest nearby Feldcroft that called to her for some reason when she was flying around, trying to free up her mind from the thoughts of being homesick.

She was really far from home this time around.

"Yes you. You seem to keep your distance from everyone you know? We don't bite." Sebastian smiled at her. "Take it from someone that had to move before, you'll find yourself fitting in sooner than later. Natty practically befriend you -"

True...Iñaki thought.

" -Ominis seems relaxed and happy to be around you since you met him your first night-"

It probably helps that my first thought of his surname that I told him was that one of his ancestors rejected her family's prejudicial pureblood beliefs and founded Ilvermorny and not of his infamous descendent that is Tim Riddler...or what ever his name was.

" -in the Slytherin Common Room-"

I was a Gryffindor in my time period.

"-and I do need a dueling partner in Crossed Wands." Sebastian winked at her. "Yeah." Her voice croaked. That's what it seemed it was good at doing since she moved to London for her Dad's work. "I-" She cleared her throat with a smile. "-I DO like dueling."

Dueling made it easy to forget, to not remember that she was no longer home. That there was no DeLorean or ruby heels she can tap together three times to bring her back to her time period, to her world.

It wasn't until the Troll fight she had with Sebastian that she thought, maybe she didn't need a time traveling car or magical red heels to go home. Not when she felt that same magical force that brought her to this time period flow out of her when she defeated -no vanquished- the troll.

If Ancient Magic brought me back to the past, I'm going to find a way to use it to get back to my own time with no problem. Iñaki thought with a smug smile as she helped repair the town back, unaware of the only flaw in her plan as Sebastian Sallow gathered her for a quick drink at the Three Broomsticks on him.

And never once did she notice the awe in his eyes as he looked at her or the growing heart he wore on his sleeve for her the longer she remained stuck in the past. She would have noticed it if she looked back, but the only flaw in that was this:

Iñaki was too busy looking forward to finally go back home, back to the future where she belonged.

No Pressure Tags: @theladyofshalott1989 @ps-cactus and whoever sees this and is interested in writing as well/needs a small push to return to the writing world 😁

Thank you @myokk for tagging me and helping me to slowly return to the writing world for a bit after the hiatus I took💖🥰💖

#Tim Howards is a play on Tim Hortons. Tim Howard is also a retired USMNT player #Tim Hortons was a hockey player who made his own coffee shop in Canada #and in this fic there is a tim howards quidditch player who made his own coffee shop chain in the magical world #Dropping two time travel titles here; Back to The Future and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain #Fun Fact - A Connecticut Yankee book was published in 1889 - a year before 1890 - the year when Iñaki is stuck in the past #And the year when Hogwarts Legacy takes place #So Iñaki can technically read it in 1890 and talk about it without any issue #No Beta Reader or editing we die like Solomon Sallow lol #sebastian sallow #sebastian x mc #kay9leo fanfic #hogwarts legacy #time travel

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batboyblog · 6 months ago

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hindsight I'd place the beginning of the 21st cen rise in antisemitism (and the rightwing swing of a LOT of countries) with the 2008 financial crisis and jews once again being scapegoats. I remember the how europe suddenly starting swinging right, jewish people leaving paris in droves, a massive increase in hate crimes. A lot of this was like, background news in reports on NPR and other places, too, obvious if you knew how to listen. And then the US congress swung right and we got trump.

yeah, I think there are a lot of factors, I think as we moved into the 21st century a lot of the Holocaust generation started to fade away, Simon Wiesenthal the great Nazi hunter passed away in 2005, Elie Wiesel the great author of the Shoah was a child when he was liberated and passed away in 2016.

Today all that's left is people who were very small children at the time and a few very old very frail people

past which the non-Jews who fought fascism, or lived under it are fading away as well, the 80th anniversary of D-Day was a few days ago, to have been an 18 year old on those beaches you'd have to be 98 years old today, most of the small number of Vets who were brought over on a specialized flight were over 100 years old.

I think in the 1990s and early 2000s there was a lot of button pushing, boundary pushing humor? things like South Park or Family Guy that really went in on racial humor, and people ironically or for "shock" value did stuff with Nazi imagery (Jeffery Starr comes to mind) and thing that brought into being people being "ironically racist" in unregulated spaces on-line.

I think the War in Iraq, and the lies about WMD and then the 2007-08 crisis and crash being driven in many ways by government policies, together with the internet allowing conspiracy minded people to better connect lead to a great distrust of government, and conspiracy thinking which together with economic hardship, and the old racist rival and freak out about the black President mixed with those "ironic" racist spaces online to become a meeting and mixing space for a lot of young conservatives and then...

Trump and he was everything they wanted, they busted out of their on-line caves like a Doctor Pimple Popper video and now good luck finding anyone under 35 who works in Republican politics professionally who isn't a Neo-Nazi, as see by that add with Trump "uniting the Reich" in the background, some video guy put that in to impress his pals in some racist chatroom I'd bet most of my fingers.

I think of course this hasn't been a right wing only thing. And I say this all the time, antisemitism doesn't stay in one place, if right wingers are saying it or left wingers the other side hears it, and picks it up and boosts it and its all one thing. And I think there were and are lots of young people on the left frustrated by authority, primed up to believe in a rigged system, and all that means it's easy to blame the Jews. "Why don't we have health care?" "the Jews took all the money" you're hearing that rn and not just in the US, the leader of the French far-left, Jean-Luc Mélenchon, has said some bonkers things about Jews, in 2020 he said "I don't know if Jesus was on a cross, but he was apparently put there by his own people" in 2020, a French socialist was calling Jews Christ Killers....

#antisemitism #history

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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Insurance companies are making climate risk worse

Tomorrow (November 29), I'm at NYC's Strand Books with my novel The Lost Cause, a solarpunk tale of hope and danger that Rebecca Solnit called "completely delightful."

Conservatives may deride the "reality-based community" as a drag on progress and commercial expansion, but even the most noxious pump-and-dump capitalism is supposed to remain tethered to reality by two unbreakable fetters: auditing and insurance:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reality-based_community

No matter how much you value profit over ethics or human thriving, you still need honest books – even if you never show those books to the taxman or the marks. Even an outright scammer needs to know what's coming in and what's going out so they don't get caught in a liquidity trap (that is, "broke"), or overleveraged ("broke," again) exposed to market changes (you guessed it: "broke").

Unfortunately for capitalism, auditing is on its deathbed. The market is sewn up by the wildly corrupt and conflicted Big Four accounting firms that are the very definition of too big to fail/too big to jail. They keep cooking books on behalf of management to the detriment of investors. These double-entry fabrications conceal rot in giant, structurally important firms until they implode spectacularly and suddenly, leaving workers, suppliers, customers and investors in a state of utter higgeldy-piggeldy:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/29/great-andersens-ghost/#mene-mene-bezzle

In helping corporations defraud institutional investors, auditors are facilitating mass scale millionaire-on-billionaire violence, and while that may seem like the kind of fight where you're happy to see either party lose, there are inevitably a lot of noncombatants in the blast radius. Since the Enron collapse, the entire accounting sector has turned to quicksand, which is a big deal, given that it's what industrial capitalism's foundations are anchored to. There's a reason my last novel was a thriller about forensic accounting and Big Tech:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues

But accounting isn't the only bedrock that's been reduced to slurry here in capitalism's end-times. The insurance sector is meant to be an unshakably rational enterprise, imposing discipline on the rest of the economy. Sure, your company can do something stupid and reckless, but the insurance bill will be stonking, sufficient to consume the expected additional profits.

But the crash of 2008 made it clear that the largest insurance companies in the world were capable of the same wishful thinking, motivated reasoning, and short-termism that they were supposed to prevent in every other business. Without AIG – one of the largest insurers in the world – there would have been no Great Financial Crisis. The company knowingly underwrote hundreds of billions of dollars in junk bonds dressed up as AAA debt, and required a $180b bailout.

Still, many of us have nursed an ember of hope that the insurance sector would spur Big Finance and its pocket governments into taking the climate emergency seriously. When rising seas and wildfires and zoonotic plagues and famines and rolling refugee crises make cities, businesses, and homes uninsurable risks, then insurers will stop writing policies and the doom will become undeniable. Money talks, bullshit walks.

But while insurers have begun to withdraw from the most climate-endangered places (or crank up premiums), the net effect is to decrease climate resilience and increase risk, creating a "climate risk doom loop" that Advait Arun lays out brilliantly for Phenomenal World:

https://www.phenomenalworld.org/analysis/the-doom-loop/

Part of the problem is political: as people move into high-risk areas (flood-prone coastal cities, fire-threatened urban-wildlife interfaces), politicians are pulling out all the stops to keep insurers from disinvesting in these high-risk zones. They're loosening insurance regs, subsidizing policies, and imposing "disaster risk fees" on everyone in the region.

But the insurance companies themselves are simply not responding aggressively enough to the rising risk. Climate risk is correlated, after all: when everyone in a region is at flood risk, then everyone will be making a claim on the insurance company when the waters come. The insurance trick of spreading risk only works if the risks to everyone in that spread aren't correlated.

Perversely, insurance companies are heavily invested in fossil fuel companies, these being reliable money-spinners where an insurer can park and grow your premiums, on the assumption that most of the people in the risk pool won't file claims at the same time. But those same fossil-fuel assets produce the very correlated risk that could bring down the whole system.

The system is in trouble. US claims from "natural disasters" are topping $100b/year – up from $4.6b in 2000. Home insurance premiums are up (21%!), but it's not enough, especially in drowning Florida and Texas (which is also both roasting and freezing):

https://grist.org/economics/as-climate-risks-mount-the-insurance-safety-net-is-collapsing/

Insurers who put premiums up to cover this new risk run into a paradox: the higher premiums get, the more risk-tolerant customers get. When flood insurance is cheap, lots of homeowners will stump up for it and create a big, uncorrelated risk-pool. When premiums skyrocket, the only people who buy flood policies are homeowners who are dead certain their house is gonna get flooded out and soon. Now you have a risk pool consisting solely of highly correlated, high risk homes. The technical term for this in the insurance trade is: "bad."

But it gets worse: people who decide not to buy policies as prices go up may be doing their own "motivated reasoning" and "mispricing their risk." That is, they may decide, "If I can't afford to move, and I can't afford to sell my house because it's in a flood-zone, and I can't afford insurance, I guess that means I'm going to live here and be uninsured and hope for the best."

This is also bad. The amount of uninsured losses from US climate disaster "dwarfs" insured losses:

https://www.reuters.com/business/environment/hurricanes-floods-bring-120-billion-insurance-losses-2022-2023-01-09/

Here's the doom-loop in a nutshell:

As carbon emissions continue to accumulate, more people are put at risk of climate disaster, while the damages from those disasters intensifies. Vulnerability will drive disinvestment, which in turn exacerbates vulnerability.

Also: the browner and poorer you are, the worse you have it: you are impacted "first and worst":

https://www.climaterealityproject.org/frontline-fenceline-communities

As Arun writes, "Tinkering with insurance markets will not solve their real issues—we must patch the gaping holes in the financial system itself." We have to end the loop that sees the poorest places least insured, and the loss of insurance leading to abandonment by people with money and agency, which zeroes out the budget for climate remediation and resiliency where it is most needed.

The insurance sector is part of the finance industry, and it is disinvesting in climate-endagered places and instead doubling down on its bets on fossil fuels. We can't rely on the insurance sector to discipline other industries by generating "price signals" about the true underlying climate risk. And insurance doesn't just invest in fossil fuels – they're also a major buyer of municipal and state bonds, which means they're part of the "bond vigilante" investors whose decisions constrain the ability of cities to raise and spend money for climate remediation.

When American cities, territories and regions can't float bonds, they historically get taken over and handed to an unelected "control board" who represents distant creditors, not citizens. This is especially true when the people who live in those places are Black or brown – think Puerto Rico or Detroit or Flint. These control board administrators make creditors whole by tearing the people apart.

This is the real doom loop: insurers pull out of poor places threatened by climate disasters. They invest in the fossil fuels that worsen those disasters. They join with bond vigilantes to force disinvestment from infrastructure maintenance and resiliency in those places. Then, the next climate disaster creates more uninsured losses. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Finance and insurance are betting heavily on climate risk modeling – not to avert this crisis, but to ensure that their finances remain intact though it. What's more, it won't work. As climate effects get bigger, they get less predictable – and harder to avoid. The point of insurance is spreading risk, not reducing it. We shouldn't and can't rely on insurance creating price-signals to reduce our climate risk.

But the climate doom-loop can be put in reverse – not by market spending, but by public spending. As Arun writes, we need to create "a global investment architecture that is safe for spending":

https://tanjasail.wordpress.com/2023/10/06/a-world-safe-for-spending/

Public investment in emissions reduction and resiliency can offset climate risk, by reducing future global warming and by making places better prepared to endure the weather and other events that are locked in by past emissions. A just transition will "loosen liquidity constraints on investment in communities made vulnerable by the financial system."

Austerity is a bad investment strategy. Failure to maintain and improve infrastructure doesn't just shift costs into the future, it increases those costs far in excess of any rational discount based on the time value of money. Public institutions should discipline markets, not the other way around. Don't give Wall Street a veto over our climate spending. A National Investment Authority could subordinate markets to human thriving:

https://democracyjournal.org/arguments/industrial-policy-requires-public-not-just-private-equity/

Insurance need not be pitted against human survival. Saving the cities and regions whose bonds are held by insurance companies is good for those companies: "Breaking the climate risk doom loop is the best disaster insurance policy money can buy."

I found Arun's work to be especially bracing because of the book I'm touring now, The Lost Cause, a solarpunk novel set in a world in which vast public investment is being made to address the climate emergency that is everywhere and all at once:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause

There is something profoundly hopeful about the belief that we can do something about these foreseeable disasters – rather than remaining frozen in place until the disaster is upon us and it's too late. As Rebecca Solnit says, inhabiting this place in your imagination is "Completely delightful. Neither utopian nor dystopian, it portrays life in SoCal in a future woven from our successes (Green New Deal!), failures (climate chaos anyway), and unresolved conflicts (old MAGA dudes). I loved it."

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/28/re-re-reinsurance/#useless-price-signals

#pluralistic #doom loop #insurance #insuretech #climate #climate risk #climate emergency #the lost cause #market forces #risk management #price signals #control boards #decarbonization #bond vigilantes #climate resilience

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worldserasingandcreatinginmymind · 2 years ago

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Help Her | Part One

Pairings: Joel Miller x Reader (platonic) / Tess x Reader (platonic) / Ellie Williams x reader (platonic)

Summary: Since outbreak day in 2003, Y/N and her older brother Ben have survived the post-pandemic world together. But when they arrive in Boston and meet a couple of smugglers, things change.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: like ALL the angst, I'm sorry.. classic last of us warnings; infected, blood, violence, deaths

A/N: spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :) I’ve not played the games, but I've watched the show (multiple times now) and researched a lot, however some details may not match the game/show storyline... for the purpose of this story Joel and Tess were already together in the Boston QZ in 2008 :)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

- - - - -

2003

You were nine when it started. Your parents had treated you and your brother Ben to a trip to Disney World for Ben’s 13th birthday. It was supposed to be the holiday of a lifetime. But even the ‘happiest place on earth’ can’t protect you from the end of the world.

You were on the ‘Its a Small World’ boat ride, sat on the front row with your brother on one side, your parents on the other, when you heard commotion behind you. You turned round to see a fight had broken out near the back of the boat. A woman was screaming as the man next to her was attacking her.

Your brother put his arm around you, turning you to look away as people on the boat started shouting. The boat came to a sudden stop, the emergency alarm blaring through the ride. Your dad and a few others decided to make their way to the back to help the woman, climbing over seats and guiding any children on the ride to move to the front where you were. As your mom held out her hand to help, one particularly sick looking child suddenly screeched and bit into her hand. Your mom yelled, trying to push the kid off but he bit her again, this time on her shoulder.

As Ben kicked the kid off the boat and tried to comfort your mom, you stood up to try to find your dad. You saw him and two other men still trying to break apart the first fight, but suddenly he’s knocked off the boat. He hit his head hard off the side and fell into the water face down.

“DAD!” You yelled, trying to scramble over the boat seats to get to him, but your brother pulls you back.

“Y/N, we have to get out of here.”

“We can’t leave him!” you cried, watching as the water around him started to mix with the red of his blood.

“It’s too late, we have to go!” he climbed off the boat and up onto the side of the ride. He turned back and pulled you up with him, making you stand behind him as he reached back for your mom. You saw blood pouring out of the bite on her shoulder as she reached up for your brothers hand. The three of you made your way through the ride’s scenery towards where you see a fire exit door.

As you burst through it, you were temporarily blinded by the bright sunlight outside but you could hear the screaming. When your eyes adjusted you saw that the whole park had turned to chaos, like something from a horror film. People running in all directions, fights broken out everywhere you look.

You turned to your brother and saw that a few feet away a child had pinned a grown man to the floor, eating his flesh. Ben followed your horrified gaze, quickly covering your eyes and asking your mother what to do.

“Back to the hotel.” she ordered and the three of you run.

By the time you made it back to the room, you noticed your mother beginning to act strange. Twitching uncontrollably, her eyes starting to glass over.

“Mom?” You asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay baby.” she replied, though her voice was shaky “I think I’m just getting sick. I’ll be alright. I need some water.”

She stood up and walked to the bathroom, gesturing for your brother to follow. They went inside and shut the door. Quietly you snuck up and pressed your ear against it, listening to their hushed conversation.

“No, Mom I can’t!”

“You can baby, and you have to.” She was crying “I’m so, so sorry… I can feel it. Something is wrong and I can’t risk hurting you or Y/N. I need you to do this for me.”

“I can’t do this on my own, I don't know what to do.”

“You're not alone. Work together, keep each other safe. You can do this.”

You heard her kiss him and quickly moved away from the door just in time for them to come back out.

“What’s going on?” You asked and your mom pulled you in for the tightest hug you’d ever received.

“I’m going to go look for some medical supplies and food. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” She pulled away, taking your face in her hands and looking at you “I love you baby, more than you’ll ever know.”

“I love you too” you started to cry and she kissed you on the head before moving to your brother. She embraced him tightly, and you heard her say two quiet words: “Help her.”

As soon as she left, your brother instantly locked the door and started moving anything he could in front of it to form a barricade.

“What are you doing?” You started to panic “She won’t be able to get back in.”

He ignored you, silently crying as he continued his task.

“Ben stop!!” You tried to pull him away.

“She’s not coming back!” he pushed you away, making you stumble backwards and fall to the floor.

“Wh- why? I don't understand-”

“She’s one of them.” He gestured to the window “Whatever those people have turned into out there, she’s turning into one of them too.” He pushed the last piece of furniture in front of the door and came over to you, helping you to your feet. “I know you're scared. I am too. I don't know what’s happening, I don't know what’s going to happen. But I do know, for now, we’re safe in here.”

“What do we do?”

“We wait. I’m sure the army will be here soon, they’ll help us.” You could tell he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you.

The two of you climbed into bed, wrapping yourselves up in the duvet as you tried to block out the sounds of screaming outside. Your brother pulled you tightly to himself, using his hands to cover your ears and sang songs to you until you fell asleep.

— — — —

2008

“Just a bit further.” Ben assures you, helping you walk closer to the giant wall surrounding the Boston QZ.

“Hands up!” A voice startles you.

A few feet away from you a middle aged man stands pointing a gun at you, the light of his torch blinding you.

“I said, hands up” he shouts again.

“Please, we need help!” your brother calls back.

“Don't make me ask a third time.” You hear him click his gun.

Ben raises his one hand, the other one still holding you upright. You try to muster the strength to raise yours too.

“She sick?” A female voice calls.

“Not with the virus, but yes she’s sick.” Your brother explains. “Some sort of infection. We got caught in a storm a few days back and she’s gotten worse since then. We need medicine.”

“Then go through the main entrance, get FEDRA to help you.” the male responds dismissively.

“Are you kidding?” Ben laughs “One look at her like this and they’ll shoot her on sight.”

“Not our problem.”

“How old is she?” The female asks.

“She's 14” Ben responds, “Please! Just, help her!”

You hear a hushed argument between the two strangers before the woman finally steps forward.

“You're not bit?” She asks you as she approaches.

“No, I promise.” you croak as she lifts your sleeves and checks you for any signs of infection.

“She’s clear” the lady calls back before moving to check your brother.

Once she’s certain neither of you are infected, she leads you towards the man who reluctantly lowers his gun but keeps it in his hand.

“We’ll sneak you in and give you medicine but then you're on your own.” The man grumbles.

“Thank you, thank you so much” Ben sighs with relief “I’m Ben, this is my sister Y/N”

“Tess” the woman responds “and this grumpy old man is Joel”

They take you back to their apartment. Ben lays you on the couch while Tess goes to get the medicine.

“What brings you to Boston?” Joel asks, still holding his gun close.

“We’re looking for someone. My fiancé is missing. Someone knows where she is and the last we heard, that person was heading to Boston.”

Ben continues his story as Tess returns with a medical kit and injects you with some sort of antibiotic. Within minutes you feel yourself unable to stay awake, and you drift off into a deep sleep.

— — — —

Tess was kind enough to let you and Ben crash on the couch for as long as you needed, much to Joel’s dismay.

You’d become quite close with Tess surprisingly quickly. She was like the big sister you’d always wanted. The two of you would sit and chat while Joel went out to earn ration cards and Ben caught up on some much needed sleep. He found it hard to sleep at night. Partly due to watching to make sure you were still breathing, and partly due to the fear that at any moment FEDRA would come bursting through the door to arrest you both for sneaking into the QZ.

It takes days but you're finally feeling a lot better, almost back to normal. You manage to get up off the couch and have a shower. The water pressure isn’t great, and there’s only a small amount of warm water but you don't care. It’s been so long since you had a shower, this feels like heaven on your aching skin. You get dry, put on the clean clothes Tess found for you and head back out to the living room.

“We found her!” Ben exclaims. “Marlene. We know where she is, which means we’re one step closer to finding Anna.”

— — — —

Tess and Joel agreed to lead you and Ben through underground tunnels to the building Marlene is rumoured to be. The tunnels are creepy. There’s fungus growing up the walls and Joel warns you to watch your step. You reach some ladders, which Joel climbs first, then gestures for you to follow. You're almost at the top when your foot slips and you almost fall, but Joel grabs your arm and hoists you up.

“Thank you!” you sigh and you swear he almost smiles. There is kindness in him, he’s just buried it deep.

Once Tess and Ben join you at the top, the four of you decide to split up to search the abandoned building. Tess and Joel going left. You and your brother right. You wonder through various corridors and eventually spot the woman you need.

“Marlene!” Ben shouts upon seeing her.

“Benjamin? Wh- what are you doing here? We thought you were dead. Both of you. When you didn’t show up to the meet point we presumed-”

“Where’s Anna?” He interrupts her and she falls silent “Where is she?”

“Ben” she takes a breath, briefly looking at you then back to Ben “Maybe we should talk somewhere privately.”

“Marlene please, just tell me.” He almost begs, your heart breaks at the sound of his voice cracking “Where is my girl?”

“She’s gone.”

“Gone?” You ask, looking to her and your brother for an explanation “Gone where? Can we go find her?”

“She’s dead.” Your brother states, slumping back against the wall. You look at Marlene in a panic, hoping she will clear things up. That your brother has just got the wrong end of the stick. She just nods solemnly.

You look down at your feet as you take a few breaths, trying to process the news before another question pops up.

“The baby?” You ask, looking back at Marlene who is watching Ben. The two of them lock eyes for a moment before Marlene finally shakes her head. You see the final sliver of hope disappear from your brother’s eyes as he slumps to the floor, head in his hands.

You close your eyes tight, fighting to keep the tears in. But the news of losing Anna, and your unborn nephew or niece is too much to hold inside. You don't notice Marlene has walked to you until you feel her hand gently squeeze your shoulder.

“I’m sorry” she says quietly, sincerely.

“Its not your fault” you say with a small shrug.

She gives you a sad smile before leaving you alone with your brother. You approach him, sliding down the wall to sit next to him and leaning your head on his shoulder. The two of you stay sat in silence for a while, quietly grieving what you’ve both lost. Eventually you have to speak.

“What happens now?”

“I don't know.” He sniffles.

“What are we going to do? Where do we go?”

“I don't know Y/N.”

“But you always know what to do. You always have a plan!”

“THEY were the plan!” He suddenly shouts “Anna and the baby, they were the only plan I had left. And now they’re gone and I- I don't know what to do.” He takes a breath, looking at you with panicked eyes “I don't know what to do”

You look at him for a moment, thinking.

“We could have a funeral for them?”

“Y/N” Ben sighs.

“Obviously we can’t actually bury them, but we could have a little memorial or something? Could be a nice way to honour them?”

“Nice? Are you serious?” Ben gets up, and you follow him.

“No no I didn’t mean-”

“Nothing about this is nice Y/N! Nothing! I’ve lost my family-”

“You’ve still got me!” You argue and he rolls his eyes “Or do I not matter anymore?”

“Don't do that. Don't make this about you.”

“I’m not making it about me! I’m just trying to figure out how to make things better!”

“Can you bring them back? Stop them from dying?” He stares at you and all you can see on his face is overwhelming sadness “There is no making this better.”

He turns and starts to walk away.

“Ben?”

“I’m sorry Y/N” he pauses “But I need to be on my own.”

“Ben!” You call after him but he’s gone, leaving you alone. You resume your position slumped on the floor, allowing yourself to fully grieve.

“Y/N?! What happened?” Tess calls as she runs toward you, crouching in front of you. Joel stands watch behind her.

“They’re dead.” You sob. “Anna and the baby, they’re dead.”

“Oh darling.” Tess sits by you, putting her arm around you.

“Where’s Ben?” Joel asks, still on high alert.

“I don't know, he walked off.”

“He just left you?” You see a brief flash of anger on Joel’s face. He won’t admit it but he does feel almost protective of you.

“He’s grieving-” you try to defend your brother.

“So are you!” Tess squeezes you “Come on, we should get back. It’s getting late.”

“What about Ben?” You panic.

“We’ll find him. Don't worry."

— — — —

Tess keeps her arm around you the whole walk back, Joel walking ahead slightly with his gun at the ready. You’d heard the stories of people who were out on the streets at night being attacked, robbed or worse. And although you felt safe with Joel, you couldn’t help but worry for your brother.

You’ve never seen him like this. Sure, the two of you had lost many people over the years. Friends that you’d made on travels, even your parents back on outbreak day. But you’d always faced it together.

As you rounded the corner near the apartment block, Joel stopped suddenly.

“Tess, get Y/N away from here.”

“What’s going on?” You try to see past him.

“Tess now!” He demands and as he tries to move you back you see around him.

Your heart stops.

Laying on the ground about 20 feet away is a body.

“Is that-?” You try to breathe “Is it-?”

You strain your eyes in the dark and notice the body is wearing the same clothes as your brother.

“Ben?” You voice barely there. “BEN!”

You free yourself from Tess and push past Joel. They chase after you, but you get there before they can stop you, falling on your knees next to your badly beaten brother and turning his bloodied head to look at his face.

“What did you do?! What did you do?!” You repeat as you stroke your hands over his face. You notice his chest rise “He’s breathing!! Ben?! Ben, wake up you idiot!”

“Y/N…” he coughs, wheezing as he breathes.

“We have to get him to the medical centre!” You shout to Joel and Tess, who are stood behind you.

“There’s nothing they can do for me.” Ben says sadly. “I’m sorry Y/N.”

“Shut up. Just shut up. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, cause you're gonna be fine.” You desperately apply pressure to the bleeding stab wound in his stomach.

“I shouldn’t have left you” he coughs “I’m sorry”

“Stop” you cry, resting your head on his chest.

“Look after her, Joel. Tess. Look after her. Please.”

“STOP IT!” you yell, panic rising.

“Y/N look at me, look at me!” Ben manages you take your face and moves you so he can see your eyes. “I love you”

“I love you too.” you sob, the memory of saying goodbye to your mother flashes through your mind.

His hands slip from your face as his breathing stops. He’s completely still.

“Ben?” You shake him. “Ben?! BEN!! BEN, WAKE UP! BEN!!”

“Come on darling.” Tess puts her hands on your shoulders but you shake her off.

“BEN! PLEASE! BEN!” You fall on him, wrapping your arms around him as you sob “I need you.”

Joel and Tess watch for a moment, allowing you this goodbye before Joel hands his gun to Tess and crouches by you.

“We really have to go now. It’s not safe out here.” Joel says, rubbing your back gently.

“I can’t leave him here!”

“He’s gone Y/N. And FEDRA patrol will be here soon. They’ll take care of his body but if they find us here, we’re in a heap of shit. We have to go!”

He stands and lifts you up. You scream and cry as you try to fight him but he’s much stronger than you. He carries you in his arms, cradling you tightly into his chest all the way back to the apartment.

Once you're back, Tess helps you wash your brother’s blood off your skin and leaves you to get changed into some clean clothes. You find your brother’s hoodie hanging on the back of the chair and immediately hug it to your face. It smells like him. It’s comforting. You pull it on over your head. It’s too big for you, but you don't care.

You walk out into the living room to find Joel and Tess reading a letter. He hands it to you. It’s a note from Ben.

‘Y/N,

By the time you read this I’ll be gone. I’m going to find the fireflies and finish what Anna always wanted to do. I’m sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but I know if I do you’ll try to talk me out of going.

Please know, my decision to leave was nothing to do with you, you’ve done nothing wrong. I just don't know how to keep you safe. And I’m scared. Everyone I have ever cared about has died and I’m afraid I’m going to lose you too.

But I know Tess and Joel will help you. They’ve done more for you in the last 5 days than I’ve been able to in the last 5 years. You’ll be safe with them. Safer than you could ever be with me.

One day, when I’ve made the world a safer place for us, I’ll come back for you. But until then, I will think of you every single day.

Forever… your loving brother,

Ben’

— — — —

2023

It’s been 15 years since you lost the last remaining member of your family. Joel and Tess honoured Ben’s wishes and took you in, even managing to get forged documents to make you an official citizen of the Boston QZ.

As soon as you were old enough, you started earning ration cards. The jobs were shit, but at least you could pay back Joel and Tess for looking after you all these years. You know they could have easily kicked you out once you turned 18, but they didn’t. Even when you offered to get out of their way, let them have their home back again they wouldn’t accept it.

You were super close with both of them, but especially with Joel after he found you one day in the midst of a panic attack. He sat with you until you calmed down, helping you breathe through it. After that he’d opened up to you about his own struggles with panic attacks, and even about his suicide attempt after losing his daughter. He made you promise if you ever felt like that, you would talk to him. And while living in the QZ wasn’t particularly wonderful, you were happy with your little life routine with your little dysfunctional family.

After an exhausting day of street sweeping, you collect your ration cards and head home. When you walk through the door, you're surprised to find you're home alone. You knew Joel would probably not be back yet, since he’s taken on extra jobs to earn extra cards, but you expected Tess to be there. Presuming she’s just popped out and would be back soon, you decide to start cooking dinner for when she returns.

But she doesn’t.

You wait as long as your grumbling stomach will allow before serving up a plate for yourself and putting the rest in the fridge. While you're getting ready for bed you hear the door close and Joel call out a greeting.

“Dinner’s in the fridge.” you respond and he thanks you.

You change into your sleep clothes and go out to the living room to see Joel.

“How was your day?” You ask.

“Shit. You?”

“Shit.” You copy and he hums with amusement.

“You make this?” He asks as he tucks into a plate of food.

“Yeah, is it that bad?” You joke and he smirks.

“Where’s Tess?”

“I don't know, haven’t seen her since I left this morning. She wasn’t here when I got back.” You reply and he looks up at you. You feel a wave of worry. “Do you think she’s okay?”

“She’ll be fine.” He reassures “It’s everyone else out there you should be worried about."

You both laugh.

“You're right. She’s badass, she can handle herself.”

“She learned from the best.” Joel jokes and you roll your eyes.

“Right, I’m off to bed. Goodnight old man.” You kiss him on the head and head towards your room.

“Sleep well baby girl.”

“Joel, I’m 29. I don't think you can call me that anymore.”

“Don't matter how old you are. You’ll always be baby girl to me.”

He smiles at you, and you return it before closing the door and getting into bed.

— — — —

The next morning you get dressed pulling your favourite hoodie, the one that belonged to your brother, on over your head. It’s a little worse for wear now, some small holes and stains that you can’t remove, but you don't care.

As you walk out into the living room you let out a sigh of relief to find Tess sat at the table with her back to you. Joel is sat in front of her, wiping her face with a cloth.

“Morning” you say, gasping she turns to look at you “Shit! What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, stop fussing.”

“Tess, your face!” You exclaim, gesturing to the cuts and bruises that cover her skin “Who did this to you?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Joel grumbles and Tess sighs.

“I need you to take a breath.”

“What?”

“Joel…”

“What?!” Joel says again.

“The guys that jumped me were with Robert. He sold our battery to someone else.”

Joel kicks back in his chair and Tess grabs his hands.

“I’ll kill him.” You say, pacing the room.

“That won’t solve anything!” Tess states calmly.

“No? But it will make me feel better!” you argue.

“I need the battery Tess!” Joel gets up “Trucks no good without one and if I don't get to Tommy soon he’s gonna die out there!”

Joel had told you so much about his brother Tommy, you felt like you knew him already. From what you’d heard, he reminded you a lot of Ben.

“Okay fuck it.” Tess stands up, following Joel across the room “We get our money back and the battery but Joel listen… Robert is terrified of you, so you march out of here all Clint Eastwood he’s gonna get wind of it and skip. I need you to take a breath.” She turns back to you as you're still pacing the room in anger “Both of you!”

There’s a brief silence as you all pause and breath.

“Who’d he sell it to?” Joel asks.

“Don't know.”

“Where is he?”

“Don't know… yet. We’re gonna find out, quietly. Understand?”

Joel nods. Tess turns to you and you raise your hands in sarcastic surrender.

“Now I promised Robert you wouldn’t hurt him. But I would very much like for you to hurt him.” Tess continues “So let’s go hunt that motherfucker down. Get our battery, and our truck, and then we’ll go find Tommy.”

— — — —

The three of you head out to a busy communal area where people are sat eating and talking. Tess goes to speak to one of Robert’s guys, leaving you and Joel observing from a safe distance. The guy glances over every so often, clearly terrified of Joel. And rightly so. Joel had a reputation in the QZ, he is not someone you want to get on the wrong side of.

As you watch the interaction, another guy strolls over to you.

“Hey friend.” he says and Joel just frowns at him, moving ever so slightly to form a barrier between him and you. “Don't worry, I don't want anything. But if you're feeling lost-”

“You tell me to ‘look for the light’ and I’ll break your jaw.” Joel interrupts, staring the guy down until he backs off and leaves.

“Fuckin’ pests.” You mutter and Joel smirks proudly.

This was a daily occurrence in the QZ, some asshole trying to recruit you to join the fireflies. Sure you hated FEDRA but the fireflies weren’t great either, in fact they could be just as dangerous as the FEDRA soldiers.

“It cost us a couple cards but, we got him. He’s supposedly taking the battery to a red tagged building.” Tess explains when she rejoins the two of you “We could take the subway tunnel under haymarket, get into the building from below and take Robert by surprise.”

“Pay this fucker back.” Joel says, looking at you and you nod in agreement.

The three of you begin your plan, breaking in and sneaking down to the abandoned tunnels that snake under the QZ. This isn’t your first time down here, but it’s still creepy. Dark, cold and wet. The constant sound of dripping making you feel uneasy. Tess shines her torch light along the rounded tunnel walls until she spots what she’s looking for.

“That’s the one.” She says, and you see the symbol spray painted next to a door.

Tess climbs the steps onto the platform and forces the heavy door open. She goes inside while you climb the steps, turning around to help Joel up. Although he doesn’t like to admit it, you know he struggles with his knees. As you're helping him you hear Tess scream from inside and immediately jump into action, both ready to fire your guns at whatever in in there. Joel rushes in first, followed by you.

“Oh shit!” You yell as you what startled Tess. Inside the room is a dead infected, fungus growing out from it’s body and up the wall behind it. It’s horrific and you have to look away.

“This one’s done.” Joel says calmly and Tess breaths a heavy sigh.

“Yeah… I know. I just, I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Take it he wasn’t down here last time?”

“No.” She replies as her and Joel get closer to examine it. You on the other hand are still standing as far away as possible. “You think he came down after he was infected?”

“Maybe down here was where he was infected.” Joel says, and your blood runs cold.

A silence fills the room as the three of you linger on Joel’s words.

“Let’s keep moving.” Tess eventually breaks the silence, walking away. You waste no time in following her, desperate to get away from the corpse in the room.

Tess leads you to a tall ladder and begins climbing it. You follow behind her, will Joel behind you.

“It’s like they refrained the whole structure.” Joel says "Probably in the 80’s. Everyone was cutting down on apartment sizes to sell more condos.”

“Oh” Tess says, faking interest “This has been Construction Corner with Joel Miller.”

You laugh, and you can almost hear how hard Joel rolls his eyes behind you.

“How far up we going?” He asks, ignoring Tess’ comment.

“Uh…” she climbs a little further then stops “…this far.” She climbs off onto a small landing and starts pressing the door. “This opens into the hallway.” She tries to open the door but it won’t budge. “What the fuck? Did someone put a piano in front of this?”

“You smell that?” Joel questions and you sniff the air.

“Yeah, gunpowder.” Tess steps back from the door, shining her torch around. You look down and spot blood pouring out from under the door.

“Shit.” You whisper as Joel once again draws his gun.

“Tess!” Joel warns as she pushes the door open. You hear a soft thud on the other side, as if something has fallen. Tess goes through and you follow.

The corridor is littered with dead bodies. Unlike the infected down in the tunnels, these ones are fresh. Whoever did this might still be here. You adjust your grip on your gun, suddenly very nervous again.

Joel surveys the hallway while Tess walks over to a battery near one of the bodies and crouches down to examine it.

“Well battery’s no good” she sighs and you glance over at Joel, you know how much he needs this battery “and he still tried to sell it. Twice.” Tess shines her torch on the now dead Robert who is laying next to the battery “You greedy fuck.”

Suddenly you hear a sound down the hallway, a sort of pained grunting. Joel walks past you, leading the way as you go to investigate. You hear a hushed voices, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. Joel peeks round the corner, turning back to gesture for you and Tess to stay quiet. As you carefully follow him you see where the noise is coming from. Down the corridor are two women with their backs to you, one trying to help the other one stand. Clearly injured.

As Joel gets closer, a door to the side of him opens and a girl comes flying out. She launches herself at Joel, some sort of knife in her hand.

“Joel!” You cry out to warn him, but his reactions are quick enough.

He throws her to the side, she hits the wall and falls to the ground. He instantly turns his gun on her as she sits on the floor, staring up at him.

“Joel? Y/N?” One of the women says, a voice you recognise.

“Marlene?” Joel responds and you look past him to see Marlene and another woman now stood at the other end of the hallway, their guns raised and aimed in your direction.

“You okay?” Marlene asks the girl, but she ignores her. Instead she reaches for her weapon, but Joel puts his foot on it, kicking it back in your direction.

It lands at your feet. It’s a switchblade. The more you stare at it the more familiar it looks to you. Slowly you bend down to pick it up.

“Hey that’s mine!” Ellie shouts at you but you ignore her, turning the switchblade around in your hand to examine it. “It’s mine, leave it alone!”

“Where did you get this?” You ask her, still staring at the blade.

“It’s mine-”

“Where did you get it?!” You ask again, firmer as you finally look at her.

“…my mom.”

“Who’s your mom?”

“I- I don't know. She’s dead.”

Your eyes flick from Ellie, to Marlene and back to Ellie.

“How old are you?”

“Why?”

“JUST-“ you shout, before taking a calming breath and continuing “-answer the question.”

“I’m 14. Jesus, why does it matter?”

“It matters…” you take a shaky breath “…because this switchblade belonged to my brother. You see this little mark engraved into the handle? I did that, on the same day that my brother gave this as a gift to his fiancé. The same day that she went missing. The same day that she died.”

“I- I didn’t steal it!”

“I’m not saying you did. But you see, she was pregnant with his kid when we lost her. Like, really super fucking pregnant… And that was 14 years ago.” You can almost see the cogs turning in Ellie’s head as she processes what you're telling her. “So either this is all just some massive coincidence. Or…” you trail off, watching the penny drop as she works it out.

“She’s your niece?” Joel asks and you shrug, turning to Marlene who has been silently watching the whole thing play out.

“Am I right?”

“Marlene?” Ellie asks and Marlene finally nods. “What the fuck dude.”

Joel lowers his gun, watching for your reaction. He notices the way your breathing has picked up, the way your hands ball up into tight fists as your arms shake. He takes a small step towards you, calmly saying your name.

“You lied.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper, but it is laced with anger.

“I had to. Your brother was grieving-”

“My brother is DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!” You launch yourself towards her, Joel just managing to catch you before you can hit her.

“I know, Y/N, and I am truly very sorry but he wouldn’t have been able to cope with a baby.”

“THAT WASN’T YOUR CHOICE TO MAKE!” You struggle against Joel’s grasp.

“And yet I had to make it.” The calm of Marlene’s voice riles you up even more. “I had a split second to make a decision. Tell your brother the truth, give him the baby and risk him being unable to handle it. Risk both their lives.” She pauses. “Or tell a lie, and give Ellie the best chance to survive, do something with her life.”

“By shipping me off the FEDRA school? Yeah, great plan.” Ellie says sarcastically and Tess shoots her a look.

“You didn’t even give him a chance! You just took everything away from him, and that’s what he couldn’t handle. That’s why he got himself killed.” You look her straight in the eyes. “His blood is on your hands!”

You break free from Joel’s arms and walk away, stepping over multiple corpses until you find an empty room to shut yourself away in for a while. Some time later, when he thought you’d had enough time to cool down, Joel came to find you. He didn’t say anything, he just joined you where you sat leaning against the wall. He waited a few minutes before speaking.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” You say quietly, pulling the frayed edge of your hoodie sleeve.

“Okay.” He replies simply, knowing not to push you.

You lean to the side, resting your head on his shoulder and he turns to put his chin on your head. The two of you stay like this until Tess comes in.

“We agreed on a deal.”

“Wait, what deal?” You sit up, looking between her and Joel. “What deal?” You repeat when neither of them talk.

“We’re gonna smuggle the girl out the QZ and drop her off with another group of fireflies at the old state house. In exchange they’re gonna give us a car, guns, anything we want.” He turns to face you. “I know this is difficult for you. You don't have to come with us if this is too-”

“Of course I’m coming with you. You're my family, and apparently so it she so…” you sigh “I have to help her. Ben would want me to help her.”

Part Two

#tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fic #Joel miller #Joel miller x reader #tess x reader #tess tlou #tess the last of us #Ellie williams x reader #Ellie williams #the last of us fanfic #Joel miller fic #tlou imagine #Joel miller imagine #Ellie williams fic #Ellie williams imagine

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