#that way leads to friends going missing
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coldgoldlazarus · 1 year ago
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Honestly, I kinda love that while yes, the hardships the Toa Inika/Mahri faced during the events of 06 and 07 was a contributor to shaping them into one of the most ruthlessly pragmatic teams out there, it's really only the cherry atop the sundae.
An arguably bigger factor is also having lived as Matoran on an island under a 999-year-long siege from its own wildlife, followed by the Bohrok crisis and the Rahkshi. Sure, their jaunt through Literal Hell in the first half of 06 didn't hurt, but they honestly had very little chill even before then.
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skunkes · 2 months ago
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the bad: i have been raised without much warmth from my parents in childhood, but also pressured to conform to familial authority, doubt myself always, and value familial connections above all else (<- failed at this, and feel guilt about it.)
but also in experiencing this i have been so isolated from the entire rest of the world and others, that it will be nearly impossible to create my own "family" -> find safety and comfort in anybody else once my family is Gone. despite dis i find it really difficult to break away from the familiar, disobey and disappoint, because, well, why are my wishes more important than anybody else's. why would I cause upset and distress in anybody, and exert so much effort into my doubt filled half decisions, for my meaningless little Wishes. being away would also mean less time with these people who I'll never see again once they're gone. being raised this way is definitely paying off for those who did so.
the good: yaaaay adjacent inspiration for writing talon lore
#talkys#my dad scaring me but also giving me no advice on what to do instead only saying if i do this it will be the wrong choice leading#to more wrong choices well yep you got me i am scared. i am inept. i fear regret and punishment for wrong decisions.#i struggle to make decisions because i cant go back on them.#''ill never have savings again'' and ''you cant value friends over family they'll abandon you''#and ''living here is only a problem for you because you dont communicate. there is a way to work things out''#i wish i could work it out and stay i dont know why i cant work it out ! and what do i want#to leave so badly for... to continue to never have stable housing#never have savings again? be alone and in danger?#to be able to wear whatever i want and...buy things? really? that doesnt seem very worth it#nothing seems very worth it#im miserable here but maybe i'd be more miserable away...it is true#well at least the chances to leave are very slim. and will continue to get slimmer the more time passes.#but maybe its fine i dont want to ruin my life or be even more of a burden or reason for distress in someone else's#moving out wouldnt fix anything. wherever you go there you are.#my friend said i have to be a little selfish (positive) to push myself to leave. bt i dont want to be selfish. im ashamed of that as a trai#delete later#even now i feel immense guilt and stress when my dad does things that hurt or bother me bc i know ill miss him when he's gone.#(and ill have nobody after all of that. due to the being kept in a cage)#that sucks. why does everyone else always win. why am i always the weakest pliable one. i wish i had no emotions#my surgery is the only decision in my life ive been 100% sure on for years#and even then my parent's words had me crying and rapidly changing emotions daily until the day came#im not strong enough or sure enough about anything else to withstand More of that#<- and i know that tomorrow im gonna be like actually you know what who cares lets try to leave#and the next day ill be resigned to staying here forever#and the next day ill be like actually you know what who cares l
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trans-leek-cookie · 1 month ago
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listen I'm not gonna be a Curly apologist he did Fucked Up as captain but I genuinely recommend ppl watch a playthru that goes thru the game in chronological order. It kinda helps clear up the events and gaps between them, bc even tho u See the times, you still experience it out of order.
The stuff Anya says definitely sets off alarm bells but it doesn't seem like he Fully Understands what she means, and I'm going to be 100% honest I think she was trying to repress it herself. This isn't to say that she is AT ALL "at fault" for what happened after and she should've gotten help even if she wasn't ready to fully discuss the issue but I genuinely think she herself was still coming to terms with things, so she didn't necessarily process the full impact before talking to Curly, and a lot of what happens occurs after they're laid off- like this delves into personal interpretation but I genuinely think Anya only registered Jimmy as a serious danger after his outburst towards Curly. Ofc my interpretation is limited bc of the limited pov in game and not having gone through what she has, but it personally reads more akin to coercion over time than a singular Obviously Violent incident (like. Not to say that Sexual Assault isnt violent in nature, just that coercion often specifically works to obfuscate the fact it is a form of violence.) The layoff is a Massive catalyst for her bc of Jimmy, in that she now has a very clear understanding of his capacity for aggression.
To extrapolate a little from the "Dead Pixel" conversation, she starts by saying she Likes The Screen (even though it's fake). While Curly has his quotes about the pixel "not ruining the illusion" which. Y'know is Symbolic Of His Flaws. She doesn't say the pixel ruins it, just that she can't get it out of her mind.
If we take the pixel to represent her Or jimmy, either way the way she talks about it kind of downplays things, like it's a Minor Thing that's Slightly Upsetting, but she's still okay with the big picture. Idk I could be 100% wrong but that is my take
Besides that, Anya tells curly she's pregnant 2 days before the crash, and it isn't until she outright states it that he starts Putting The Pieces Together. I want to note, he says "I'd do anything" and "this doesn't have to go on our performance evals" 1. Before he knows shes pregnant 2. Under the assumption she might attempt suicide, and I doubt he even thought about her using the gun on anyone else before she brings that up. He says literally before the line where she tells him she's pregnant that "being laid off isnt a reason to hurt [herself]". Like I've seen ppl talk about the performance evaluation thing like it's about her and jimmy, but I think he's referring to (his belief) that she might attempt suicide or similar which might genuinely be a consistent thing he's seen her struggle with, given she's able to go through with it. Also just to note: assuming their society is like ours (hellish) reassuring her he won't blab Abt her mental health is like. Genuine reassurance- lots of mentally ill ppl will Not Open Up bc it could have long term consequences (like. For example. On employment) ANYWAYS I hope it doesn't come off like "Curly never failed Anya" but rather "Curly approached this specific situation without the context of why Anya is panicking and (possibly validly) assuming she's dealing with a very different issue"
Also let me say again the time frame is 2 days. We don't Really see what happens, but we know Anya tells Jimmy without Curly knowing. I genuinely believe he maybe didn't do a Great Job in those two days (the fact he says Anya should've talked to Him before telling Jimmy is uhhh. Mm. 1. Your job to create an environment where she comes to you my man 2. Weird to tell her what she should do with HER OWN PERSONAL INFORMATION) but like.
I get a lot of ppl want immediate consequences but consider that they can't really get rid of Jimmy (co pilot. Which is. Y'know it's Own Problems) but also like. Curly knows Jimmy, and we know that Jimmy tends to lash out. Curly should probably Not Confront Jimmy Unless He Knows Exactly How To Keep Him From Hurting Anya. Like I'm not an expert but this is something genuinely important- when confronting an abuser you NEED to take into account the impact it can have on their victim, and sometimes for the victims safety you need to wait until you have a Solid Plan. It sucks but it's important.
And theres discussion to be had about Curly kinda going along with Jimmy saying "well what if we all died" and like. I do believe he Didn't Realize What Jimmy Said. Like he was just processing/trying to keep the situation under control (and failing because he underestimated how willing Jimmy was to hurt everyone including himself).
Like he's definitely an enabler but I would say his problems are mostly before he understands the gravity of the situation, in that he's friends with Jimmy and assumes the best of a man with abusive tendencies, and fails to create an environment that can keep Anya and the others safe. Like, he definitely doesn't handle in game events perfectly (psych evaluation for one- he does do it instead of Anya which is actually helpful, but he still treats it like. Weirdly.)
Idk I have a lot of thoughts about this game and I don't necessarily want to defend Curly but more like. Anya's situation is very delicate (and light on details) so sometimes the way ppl talk Abt it feels like they aren't actually focused on what she wants and what it means to prioritize her safety y'know?
Edit bc I just now figured out kinda how I want to word it: curly is an enabler and making things worse bc he doesn't put a stop to Jimmy's BS, but in the specific scenario we see in game I think he's trying to use his Skillset of like, people pleasing not for Jimmy's sake but for the crews (like "if I nod my head and say I sympathize he won't lash out and hurt them") which like. There are situations which that is unfortunately the safest option (on an individual level yes, but sometimes it's also necessary to prevent abusers lashing out in response toward ppl who are more vulnerable) but it was the Wrong Choice.
It's like. I think Curly was trying and had good intentions, and understood that he needed to protect the crew, but he didn't have the toolset/experience to realize he can't Just go along with things and that he needs to be able to set hard limits, even for ppl he likes and trusts. Like he failed but the failure was "for want of a nail", where it began way before what we see (for want of an understanding of power dynamics I guess.) Again, don't think this makes curly more forgivable or whatever, I just think he's a good example of trying to make the right choices when you never realized you'd have to make these kinds of decisions and therefore are unprepared and/or unaware
Second edit: personally I don't think you can really incapacitate jimmy without there being serious risk (again he's the copilot) but curly should've given Anya the gun when she told him Abt the pregnancy
#Mouthwashing spoilers#Rape ment#Suicide ment#SA ment#Yeah. Pronouns were kicking m fucking ass in this post. Names also bc I once called curly jimmy#if I write to much my brain stops cooperating with words#Idk. The way she brings up the locks in my mind sounds a little less like#Singular Incident and more. The lack of locks is a Very Important Boundary That's Missing#That feels like it often leads to the erosion of other important boundaries especially when someone abusive#Is specifically pushing those boundaries. Idk again. My take on it#And while Anya says ''i told you'' a part of me thinks she told him like. Y'know vaguely about the situation but probably didn't#Characterize it as assault (bc even if he didn't believe her I don't think he would ask ''who'' if he remembered her telling him#That his friend assaulted her) and was maybe not interpreting it as assault herself bc she was trying to rationalize it#Bc she's in a very isolated situation for over a year in a place where Two Whole Rooms Have Locks.#Realizing she was in the cockpit (has a lock) when Curly is assuming she's suicidal (or at least going to hurt herself)#And then she's in the medbay (has a lock) when she actually. Y'know#Idk I'm fully up to debate this. If someone has good reasoning why curly is actually worse than I think he is I'm all for it#I'm just trying to like. In the context of my beliefs understand the actions he takes and how they fit in within the timeframe#But legit watching a chronological playthrough helps A LOT bc like. Game is super impactful nonlinear#But like. That's not how the characters experienced it and it really fucks with the timeline of events intuitively#Anyway again. If u hate curly that's entirely understandable I just want to try and organize my thoughts while keeping#The timeline and my view of events relatively straight. Feel like there's sometimes a lil too much focus on how the men failed Anya#When we should focus on what Anya's needs and wants are. Which ofc from our POV characters are Hard bc. It's curly and jimmy#But still it's worth trying to understand her better than they do#Game that makes you think so much your brain becomes mouthwash
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ratatatastic · 3 months ago
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"Have you ever seen [Barkov] fall? Has he ever fallen? He's never fallen his entire career!" "Uh—It's, uh, funny and I don't know if he'll care that I say this, but he's got those—he doesn't like the blades that you can snap in and out quickly. So when he needs to get his skates done in the middle of a game, he's gotta fully take off his skates, get 'em sharpened and retie them up—which is like one of the few guys in the league, I think, that still do that. So sometimes he'll have absolutely no edge, and he'll just find a way to, like, compensate and get through it—which is incredible." "That kind-of sucks though 'cuz that's like a bad dream to have. You're waiting on something else, like—even if the trainers just like snapped it back in or whatever, like maybe they had something different they can put in there. He probably wouldn't even know!" "[...] this guy's particular. He knows his game and he's goddamn good at it! And we don't say a word so!" "'Barky, we need you out there for the face off! There's two seconds left!'" "That's what I mean! He'll compensate and he'll still look better than all of us! Like if any of us had no edge like that, we'd be screwed, right? And he goes out there and does the Barky things that he does. We're all grateful for it! He's been getting me paid for 10 years now, so."
The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)
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loving my captain face... absolutely smitten with the man hes spent a decade with despite still not being invited to his house... thats love babey oh hes absolutely swinging and kicking his feet
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THE LITTLE SMILE HE MAKES AFTER HE GOES "hes been getting me paid for 10 years now so 😃"
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faaun · 3 months ago
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ok let's catch up quickly
#so i went on a few dates w this guy. long hair beautiful face kinda looked like a girl (good) said yes ma'am when i told him to do smth#(also good) film student great at photography including candids. made a sheath of leather for a sword pin i have . et cetera.#he asked to cuddle and i was like iggg and then i felt Nothing and i was like ohhh yh ok ok yep lesbian#like he meets almost all my criteria but. yeahhh no . also at the end of that date he had some weird takes. anyway broke up w him and told#him actually im p sure im a lesbian (again) and he was like yk thats the second time this has happened to me this week but its ok bc ive#fallen for this girl from berlin. and then we cooked together. anyway . met a beautiful butch lowk in love w her. weve been on (1) date.#have two exams in a few days havent studied enough going to like end it all basically. my research partner kicked me off our research#(expected(it was always skinda sketchy)) which was devastating + it happened in a lidl 15 hours into a journey from bordeaux#to go back to the UK. my friends were kinda busy paying for baguettes but also they heard this whole exchange and are kinda mad at him#my friend of 10+ years is coming over in a few days. my evil ex situationship person that i decided to stay friends w because i kept#insisting they are a good friend and not evil and also extremely beautiful? turns out shockingly enough they were evil. tried to fix them#and then i realised due to their entire friendship group being ppl like me (Every Single One of their friends are ppl they met on dating#apps then led on then dumped and proposed staying friends w) and are collectively extremely attracted to them and not over them they#keep validating the most diabolical shit they say/do to hace a chance w them. they broke up w their ex and the way they keep leading#this poor girl on and making her heartbeeak worse and saying that they want more power over her and want her to beg for them back etc...MY#JAW HAD DROPPED esp bc i didnt even know the ex was in the picture BECAUSE ME AND ONE OF OUR FRIENDS (that they also dated) HAD JUSR SLEPT#NAKED TOGETHER IN THEIR BED W THEM. GIRL. anyway that is the least of the diabolical stuff they said but no we are moving onnn#this was b4 the beautiful butch btw. anyways . i have a mitski concert tmrw i think?? idek anymore#i used to have a crush on this guy very briefly and then it disappeared and then i realised if he fundementally changed everything abt#himself then maybe id like him but ofc i didnt tell him that but i still think abt it sometimes but anyway thats irrelevant now bc 99% sure#even if he did id still not find him attractive (lesbianism). please recommend good overnight moisturisers btw i have super dry skin#right. the friend of 10 yrs. we had a hard convo abt why she essentially bullied me in year 8 and it made me highly bitter but i also love#her and ik things are diff now its been like . Many Years . and shes going to stay a while I HAVE TWO EXAMS I DONT HAVE TIME but i love her#its fine. i think i might just switch into medicine and do the whole become a neurosurgeon thing (which was my plan B) bc plan A is looking#kinda impossible rn. I WANNA TALK MORE ABT WHAT THE EX SITUATIONSHIP PERSON SAID but i wont bc i dont wanna be too mean but also . MY GOD#i had a conversation w a philosopher friend about whether i have a moral responsibility to try to fix them bc unleashing this on society#feels wrong and he said 'probably but...run' so yeah im not talking to them atm. second date w beautiful butch on monday btw IDK WHAT TO#WEAR. she said she likes fems. im just gonna wear the shortest ralph lauren skirt i have w the cute leg warmers and hope 4 the best#its 1:15 AM im abt to drink coffee and start studying bc what the FUCK man. also almost finished watching the boys its very good#one of my best friends is struggling rn it is breaking my heart i want to take the burden from her i miss her very much
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ehlnofay · 1 year ago
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It’s not until she hears Sissel’s knees hit the floor that Efri is jolted back into her body.
She blinks, whipping her head around. Sissel is kneeling, bracing a palm on the ancient stone pavement, at the barrier – no, the barrier’s gone, it’s just Sissel on the floor. She lifts her head and meets Efri’s eyes; her hair is wispy and wild, the little plaits meant to keep it neat come loose and tumbling, her eyes wide. The barrier's gone, but still, her pale face is lit up blue.
“Are you okay?” she asks. She doesn’t speak loudly, but it echoes in the great stone chamber.
Nine, Efri doesn’t know.
She blinks again, looks down at her hands, clinging to the metal stick so fiercely that her joints ache. (Her own stick, her nice wooden one, is still on the floor somewhere, where it slipped out of her grasp when she hit the wall.) The lumpy heavy end of it, the clobbering end, is still resting on –
Not on. It’s in the thing’s head, fitted neatly in the opening of its dented helmet, the horns spiralling over the floor. There’s a tooth, perfectly preserved, by Efri’s foot.
One by one, she unwraps her gloved fingers from the handle of the metal stick, letting it drop to the floor with a clang so loud it makes her wince. Kazari is nosing at her side. (When did they let go of it? When did they get so close? She must have missed that. She feels out of the loop. Her heart is juddering like fish on a line, battering like some frightened trapped thing at her ribcage, and her breath is coming fast and heavy.) Absentmindedly bringing up a hand to press over her sore shoulder, she says, “’M fine. Not too – barely touched me.”
Kazari turns and spits on the floor. Efri blinks. She does it again, tongue lolling out of her mouth, face very disgruntled – and oh, Efri gets it. She does not glance down at the thing at her feet; she doesn’t need to, she knows what its arm looks like, chewed almost to pieces even through its banded armour. (If she hadn’t been so busy being scared of it, that sight might have made her a bit scared of Kazari. But not now, when they’re trying to hack and spit the taste of dead man arm out of their mouth.)
Efri unclips her canteen from her belt and holds it out. “Here,” she says. Her voice is rough. Her heart is racing too much to let constructing sentences be easy. “Not much, but –”
Kazari stands still while Efri tips half of the remaining water onto her tongue, and then Efri watches her swilling it around in her mouth, trying to bathe all of her teeth in it, before she spits it again on the floor at the dead thing’s feet.
The water is still clear. That’s something, at least; the dead man was too old to still have blood in him. Or maybe he was embalmed, drained of it hundreds of years ago, thousands.
“Are you okay?” Efri asks Kazari when they’re done, because they were the one doing most of the fighting, who was closest. They tip their head, shift their weight – wince when they put weight on one foot. Their lips peel back from their teeth. Their clothes on that side are singed.
Efri points it out. “Your robe,” she says, which makes it sound much fancier than it is. She’s too tired to think of a better word. She rubs a hand over her face, pushing the hair back over her forehead, says, “I’ll reinforce it for you when we get out.”
Kazari noses at Efri’s shoulder – the shredded fabric of her dress, the fraying edges stained with blood. Efri says, “I know. I’ll have to sew that up too.” Over her shoulder, she calls, “Kazari’s leg’s hurt, I think.”
“There’s blood on you,” Sissel replies. She peels her hand off the floor and leans back on her heels.
Efri touches her shoulder again. “’S fine,” she says. “Just a scrape. The blood’s drying already.”
It’s really sore, actually – the flesh abraded and tender, an ache sinking deep into the muscle – but it’s normal sore, the kind of sore you really should be after being thrown into a wall. It doesn’t feel sprained or dislocated or anything like that.  Just like it will be bruised a whole rainbow of colours come tomorrow.
Kazari noses at it again. She leans too far forward and falters on her maybe-hurt leg – rights herself, wincing, and rolls her shoulder. It gleams, just for a moment, and she nearly stumbles again. Efri puts out a hand to steady her. (It doesn’t really accomplish anything – Efri’s strong, but she’s not that strong – but it’s the principle of it.) “What was that spell?”
“Pain relief,” Sissel says from behind her. “I think. Doesn’t actually fix anything, but.”
“You’ll be okay ‘til we find someone?” Efri asks, and Kazari nods. She presses a hand against their shoulder and nods back.
They both turn to look at Sissel, then, who’s just kneeling on the floor, sitting on her heels.
“You all right?” Efri asks her.
“All right,” Sissel confirms. She doesn’t look at them. “Didn’t even come near me.”
She’s staring.
Efri crosses the floor to stand with her. (She needs to lean on Kazari – her legs are too wobbly, and she doesn’t want to touch the dead thing’s stick, doesn’t want to look for her own. Kazari limps a little on their sore front leg.) There’s a moment of total, humming silence – all of them still and staring, necks craned back, looking up at the thing.
Whatever it is.
It’s a ball. Big and blue and shimmering, it floats above a wide crystalline dish set into the floor, spinning on an axis. Just spinning and spinning and spinning, endless motion. Its smooth surface is cut through with dark wavering lines, etched with lettering, and it doesn’t quite glow but it doesn’t not glow, either, the light moving across it silkily, like clouds in a blue sky. It looks like something that should be humming – a low pitch in their ears, an eerie shiver dancing over their skin – but it’s silent. Inert, maybe, but for the spinning.
“What is it?” Efri asks. Her voice cracks as she speaks. She looks down at Sissel’s face, staring as though mesmerised, illuminated by the room’s dim lighting – the fires that should not still be burning down here, the luminous not-glow of the ball.
Sissel says, “I don’t know. Something important.”
Hovering above the dish, it spins, and spins, and spins.
“Is it what the ghost was talking about?” Efri asks. She tilts her head and squints at it. It doesn’t – well, it looks strange and unearthly and powerful, but it isn’t doing anything. And it hadn’t been clear what the ghost was talking about, exactly, according to Sissel, just that it was something important – but what else could it be?
Sissel, still watching it, shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I think so.”
Efri watches it with her, brushing a bit more hair out of her face. It’s sticking to her sweaty forehead. She feels a drip of not-dry blood running down her arm under her sleeve.
Kazari is staring at it too – just as confounded as the rest of them. Efri sees the light in their irises shifting as the ball spins.
They’re not learning anything from staring, the ball staying strange and mysterious as ever, so Efri raps her knuckles against her sternum to steady her breathing (it’s slowed a bit – not normal, but closer to it) and climbs up onto the stone rimming of the dish. Kazari, behind her, lows in consternation; Sissel catches her breath, a noise like a creaking door. “Careful,” she says.
“Promise,” Efri replies, and places her feet very, very carefully on the glassy blue flooring. Nothing happens. She doesn’t step on the dark curved lines as she treads toward the ball in the centre, slow and wary as if she were approaching a skittish animal. Nothing happens.
She reaches out, and, with just the tips of her fingers, she grazes the ball’s surface.
Nothing happens.
It’s cool to the touch, and smooth, like polished metal or not-frozen ice or delicate glasswork. It continues to spin gently under her fingers, warming her glove with friction, no smudges left on its clouded face.
 It really feels like there should at least be a tingle running up her arm, a strange and unfamiliar current, a spark. But it’s just Efri, standing with an arm outstretched, pressing her hand to a ball.
“It’s not doing anything,” she reports, and Sissel clambers up onto the dish with her, fitting her palm to its gently hovering underside. Kazari balks, begins pacing agitatedly. Efri frowns. “Why isn’t it doing anything? Shouldn’t it be doing something?”
“It’s important,” Sissel says definitively. There’s ancient dust on her fingers, but none of it seems to transfer. “It’s something really special, I think.”
Efri shifts restlessly. She shifts her grip and tries to grab onto the dark ridged curves ringing its surface, but they slip easily away from her grasp as though her touch was no barrier at all. “But what does it do?”
Sissel shrugs.
Behind them, Kazari lows.
Efri drops her hand and grabs Sissel’s wrist. “C’mon,” she says, and when Sissel frowns at her, “We’re not going to learn anything about it this way. We have to look for clues!”
Kazari makes a more impatient noise. (Efri thinks she found a clue.)
Sissel gives the ball one last searching look and lets Efri tug her away, off the weird blue dish and down to where Kazari stands on the stone floor, at the head of the table where the dead man sat. Efri sniffs loudly and tries not to think about it too much. The table is smooth polished stone, worn a little away with time; Efri trails a gloved finger over the edge and directs her attention to where Kazari points with their chin.
There’s something carved into the surface, the edges blunted and shapes softened by however many years it must have been since it was put there. Efri squints, trying to make it out. She has to stand right up on her tiptoes to get the right angle to see much of it in full.
“That’s not letters,” she says eventually, frowning. She’s pretty sure she knows her alphabet well enough by now to know that. “Is it magic?”
Sissel shakes her head. “I don’t know what it is. It’s not like magical writing I’ve ever seen.”
Efri looks at Kazari, who also shakes her head. “Maybe it’s a different sort of lettering,” she theorises. It must have been written a long time ago, if it’s from back when the city had people. Onmund’s been reading all about it for ages, and he’s told her a bit – Saarthal was the city of Atmorans, populated by proto-Nordic people. All complicated history stuff. But they weren’t quite the same as Nords today, he said, so it stands to reason they had different writing, too. They’re supposed to be uncovering and cataloguing artifacts (at the thought, Efri glances back at the hovering ball and swallows an inane bubble of laughter) so she suggests, “Maybe you can copy it and we can show it to someone. I’m sure there’ll be someone at the College what knows what it is.”
Sissel, also standing on her toes, nods dutifully. “What will you do?”
The chamber they’re in is cavernous, and about empty but for the ball in the dish, the altar and chair, the body on the ground. “I’ll check him,” she says, and points. “See if he has anything on him that’s special.”
Sissel follows her finger and grimaces.
She digs out her note-paper and her stick of char, and Efri assumes it’s clues time, but when she turns she feels a hand grip her elbow. She looks back over her tattered shoulder at Sissel’s face, her furrowed brow.
“Promise you’re really okay?” she says, voice anxious and solemn.
“Promise,” Efri says, twisting her arm to touch her friend’s hand. Sissel presses her lips together and lets go of her arm.
Kazari trails after Efri to look at the dead man.
First thing is the metal stick. It’s magic someway, Efri knows – he waved it and threw her into a wall, flung spells with it – but she’s not sure how. Doesn’t know enough about enchantments. Didn’t need to, to use it; when Kazari clamped down on his arm she just ripped it from his grasp and –
She doesn’t quite exactly remember, actually, except for the bitter tang of adrenaline in her mouth and nose, the horrible grunting and scuffling sounds, the heft of the stick in her hands. Impact, over and over and over, against something that had a little more give each time.
Efri scrubs a hand over her mouth and grips the handle of the stick. It takes effort to wrest it out of the thing’s face, caught as it is by the edges of the helmet, and when it’s finally yanked free it’s – actually not as bad as she might have expected. There’s no blood, and the corpse was so desiccated it already didn’t even really look like a person anymore, so it registers less as someone with horrible violence done to it and more as a really gross art piece. It’s not nice. She doesn’t like the twisted, gaping mouth, teeth embedded wrong-ways in its tissue and scattered like coins over the floor. And one of the eyes, which had glowed unearthly blue, is now a dull, rotten black, squished like a plum in its socket.
It's worse the more she looks. She sniffs and turns away.
“This is magic, right?” she asks Kazari, testing the weight of it in her hands, the cool surface of the metal, and they nod. “A good artifact?” she adds, and they nod again, emphatically. Efri sets the stick aside and kneels.
It wasn’t wearing any clothes, really – or if it was, they rotted away. She touches the rusted armour gingerly, tries to avoid brushing her gloves against the shrivelled skin at all. Whoever it was had expensive taste, it seems – there’s jewellery in a shockingly well-preserved beard, pendants around the neck, armbands. Efri asks Kazari if each thing is enchanted. No to the armbands, no to the beard-ring, and then, pressed against the wizened chest where the flesh contours to the ribs, she finds some kind of necklace, sharp-edged and thrumming. Kazari nods to that, and, face scrunched up like an old fruit, Efri reaches around the ancient neck to slip it off.
She tucks it into a belt pocket with the tripwire necklace they found at the weird wall.
“Done,” Sissel says. She folds her paper and slips it into her own pouch. Her footfalls on the echo-y stone floor as she approaches the body for the first time are almost silent. “Did you find anything?”
“Necklace,” Efri replies, watching Sissel’s face pinch at the sight of him. “And – stick.” She scoops up the metal stick and holds it out. “He did spells with it.”
Sissel looks at it warily. “Is he a draugr?” she asks, glancing back down at his mashed-up face.
“I mean,” Efri says, “he’s got to be, right?” She’s certainly never seen a draugr before, but what else could it be?
(Calling it a draugr makes her shiver, the set of her shoulders quaking. She’ll stick to dead man.)
Sissel shudders. She reaches out to grip the handle of the stick, and Efri’s not sure if she’s taking it or just trying to keep herself upright. “I can’t believe that happened,” she says. Her voice sounds, suddenly, fragile. “I can’t believe we’re alive.”
“Me neither,” Efri says. She presses the tip of the stick into the ground so Sissel can lean on it, stands a little unsteadily.
Kazari, with a hushed murmur, telegraphs something. Efri recognises the head incline of understanding – she’s familiar with that word, that idea – and, after a moment, the flickering ear of doubt.
“They’ll have to believe us,” she says with conviction, because she means it. “We’ll show them. They’ll see for themselves.”
Kazari presses their nose to her head.
Efri clasps her hands together. “We’ll go tell someone now,” she declares – though it’s easier said than done; they were lost in the ruins ages before they even found the crumbling wall, the halls, this horrible wonderful chamber. But they’ll get un-lost eventually. They’ll get out eventually. Surely. They have practice enough with walking. “But first – help me find my stick.”
#little girl has a kill count now!! more at 11#for context: I altered stuff leading up to the discovery of the eye#efri and sissel went off to play in the undiscovered halls of this ancient archeological dig site#on the grounds that efri has a great sense of navigation and they'll find their way back to the group no problem.#(efri has a great sense of navigation in the wilderness.)#(introduce her to a series of roads and buildings and she is lost in the sauce.)#their friends split up to look for them after they've been missing from a while (wandering around with great interest and no sense of place#(incredibly lost)#kazari happens upon them right as they've found a necklace at the end of a dead-end passageway that - when dutifully grabbed#for archeological research purposes - ended up triggering the wall to crumble or disappear or otherwise remove itself from the equation#and efri wasn't going to just. LEAVE that opening there.#come ONN kazari that's weird!! we can't just leave it!! what if it closes up and we never ever find it again and there's incredible secrets#that the college never finds! what if we never know what's through there!#we HAVE to know what's through there!#so on they go.#and so ensue the horrors#they pass a lot of dead bodies before the main all but those ones are all immobile#also sissel is the only one to receive the psijic projection warning. which she explains to the others as a ghost telling her secrets#which efri accepts bc this seems like the kind of place that would for sure have ghosts#and kazari goes sure that tracks this place is fucking creepy can we leave now (<- is also curious but HAS to put on a show of reluctance#because clearly no-one else is going to)#(permanent babysitter of kids with the worst self-preservation instincts imaginable)#(she is so strong. living every childcare worker's nightmare)#ANYWAY#:D#normal type stuff#posting because it matches the artwork I'm also posting! look at that thing!!!#fay writes#oc tag#efri
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noahtally-famous · 7 months ago
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not me popping back on here with a post after months of semi-inactivity (uni is being a bitch) just to reiterate how much i love writing the pahkitew island cast.
aside from sammy and amy (obviously), literally everyone else can be shipped with one another and it'd make sense to some degree, like it takes skill to create a group of people so inherently shippable (platonically and/or romantically) and ofc the writers didn't know it they just shoved a bunch of random ppl together and dusted their hands off on it but fr tho 😭
(yeah im planning out my leonave 'stranger things inspired' au, and the gears are turning, and i forgot just how much i love writing for this dumbass group)
(i swear im working on the next chapter of a guide to surviving the apocalypse too)
#no but i've way too many ideas lmaoo#i forgot ive a whole longass post in my drafts dedicated to ramblings abt this longfic and i came across it today ahaha#like amy leading a manhunt for leonard bc shes got everyone to think he killed her sister (who she didn't even like much smh)#and topher's one of the ppl involved and when shawn hears he's like “topher? yeah i can handle him dw” (possible tophawn minor pairing??)#and leonard's abt to get the equivalent of being burnt at the stake literally#when guess who shows up in a fucking mercedes of all cars#fucking dave#and he helps leonard escape narrowly by driving fast af and leonard's so confused bc like “i thought you'd be with those guys”#and get this: dave doesnt believe leonard killed sammy bc of his vehement belief that leonard doesn't know magic LMAOOO#and leonard doesnt know whether to be affronted or grudgingly thankful bc if it wasn't for dave's desire for everything to be normal#leonard would have been part of the witch trials 2.0#and idk who's watched st but the plot is somewhat inspired by it#like shawn goes missing first and dave as his best friend is panicking abt it (in this one axel is shawns cousin???)#and then when they find him at last the weird deaths start leading to leonard finding sammy dead and this whole situation#and theres a whole different world underneath them and its up to leonard dave ella and sky to team up and prevent certain destruction#and theres slowburn leonave (with pining leonard and oblivious dave)#and leonard lives with his uncle whos understanding of his passions (unlike his dad who basically gave him away for the same reason)#and leonard's life is total opppsite from dave's#and they both know it#and omgggg this au has been a brainrot for so goddamn long#but idk why i just got a slew of ideas for it today#and like dave stays over at leonards at one point and leonard gives him his bed (like a gentleman)#and the next morning shawn barges in like “wheres my best friend” bc ever since he was taken he's been v paranoid abt losing the ppl he lov#and he hugs dave and daves like “how dirty are you rn” and shawns like “nothing yet i waited so that i can hug you when i see your dumb ass#and everyones like abt dave to leonard “idk if he's the right one for you”#but then later on dave saves his life by going a little bit unhinged classic dave-style#and ends up scaring a nurse and receptionist into retiring early#total drama#td leonard#td dave
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asfdhgsdkjhgb · 27 days ago
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had quite the night drive earlier this evening.
#just me rambling again#web weaving#(?)#uh. one of my friends who is out of town for college was visiting and i got to see him and our friends and the only core member of that#group of people missing was my ex girlfriend who you may also know of as my wonderful wife#who has I assume been very busy with their own life things but has also barely and very sparsely had any hint of communication with any of#us within the past few months which I've been realizing very recently sort of hurts my feelings because we used to be so close and#they had been saying that they would be constantly making sure we still were in each other's lives. but then very quickly have#seemingly dropped off the face of the earth#anyways. I was driving aforementioned friend who is in town back home (family home not college obv) and when i was finally going back#towards my house afterwards my Google maps finally lead me to an area that i was more familiar with driving and i got to an#intersection and it was telling me to take a right to go home but i knew that i knew the way perfectly from that intersection to my#ex girlfriend / best friend / wifes familys house from all of the times I've gone that direction through the past years and so#i turned off my directions and i took a left towards their house#not super sure why but my brain and body just knew it was something i needed to do and so i went and drove down their street and cried#a lot the whole time and then drove myself home from their house once again following a super familiar path#and idk im still feeling very emotional about it. the fact that halloween by noah kahan was the first song to play on Spotify#after i made that left turn im sure didnt help (knowing that i miss them so much and am going to be leaving this area myself#soon enough here and there's been an open offer for a while now that they are welcome to follow and live with me once they get their degree#(and also um. halloween is next week lol)#idk i just havent felt the full force of how badly i miss having them in my life until tonight. when i was around this person i could feel#our souls singing in harmony. i genuinely cannot describe the feelings of our relationship in words i feel like only vaguely abstract art#could communicate the connection that was forged between us and the level of understanding and knowing#something not dissimilar to looking into the sun directly or trying to describe a vivid color to someone who is completely blind#something about the way the entire universe breathes in unison and everything around us are all pieces of the same stars#sigh#i miss my wife tails i miss her a lot /ref
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wildevenusian · 2 months ago
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i just don’t understand. why say ur ready to talk if you aren’t?
can u believe this post is what got me to reach tag limit
#vaugepostimg on main about an irl don’t mind me#i just. am feeling sad bcus i have been trying to keep my distance and respect the space they said they needed. and then they reached out to#me for their book club and said we should chat and i got excited! i miss my friend of course i got excited#still let them take the lead. i want them to be comfortable. they said they’d lmk what day they were free#and then proceeded to ghost me for like. almost two weeks??#(​it was 10 days but !!! still!!! almost 2 weeks from them suggesting i come to book club which would’ve inherently necessitated an irl talk#and then after all that yesterday said they actually weren’t ready which. hurted#tbf i knew something was up after like 2 days of them not replying so it’s not like i was fully caught off guard it just really hurt#and like i feel weird bcus our social circles are really overlapped and i spent a lot of time with them last winter and i had thought#that would happen again this winter. we would swim together a lot and i consistently went to their house dinners#bcus if i care about you i show up! and i’m understanding ! bcus i am patient and kind person and as a triple taurus i’m not tryna rush ever#especially when it comes to people’s emotions ??? especially if someone has told me i hurt them???? like ik im an autistic lesbian but#despite popular conceptions on that particular identity. im not fucking evil ????? if you ask for space i will give you space !!!!!#and like when it comes to emotions and conflict i’m blunt but i’m caring and it takes a lot for me to be disinfranchised by people#or relationships. so i’m not saying i don’t want to still be her friend#i’m just. noticing behaviors#they did tell me that they were very avoidant in conflict and i told them i’m very much not and like. now that i’m on the receiving end of i#idk what to do!! i’m not gonna chase her down like they’re grown!! and again!!! if you ask for space i’m going to respect that!!!#and like honestly. i’m happy she at least gave me the curtesy of saying they weren’t ready to talk even if it took her mad long to do it#so like. who tf knows when we’ll talk. if ever. probably when she wants the validation of our friendship if it even happens at all#bcus again. she reached out not to reconnect and clear the air but to check if i still wanted to come to her club she was starting#ik in earlier conversations she was worried no one would come but ig she found people. which like good for her tbh but to be honest i feel#discarded?? i’m feeling like i’m failing to not project too much so i gotta stop but idk man i’m just feeling weird about it all#and then i had the thought today of like. is this what i want in a friendship? someone who goes back and forth abt whether or not i’m worth#which again. kinda wasn’t expecting that bcus we spent so much time together last autumn/winter/spring like. many times per week!!!#so the idea of not being her friend all of a sudden?? feels fucjing weird to think about#but like? i don’t want to feel this way this is what i hate about west coast/white people conflict resolution!! there fucking isn’t any!!!#and i can’t deal with that! i can’t spend my life with people who aren’t going to engage with me as a person who cares about them#humans are fallible creatures and were only here on earth for so long so why are we wasting time here? what is the point of all this ???????#but then the guilt and shame say i deserve it all and at that point i just need to stop so. i’m gonna stop now lol
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thatone-churro · 4 months ago
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not to be emo on main but i miss when my birthday meant something to me :/
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arolesbianism · 6 months ago
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Thinking abt my dupe ocs again... Maybe Quinn does have hashtag issues actually
#rat rambles#oni posting#oc posting#theyre very well known and liked amongst all the colonies as y'know. they helped found all of them.#and theyve always been very friendly and kind and they have always taken their responsibilities incredibly seriously#and when they get time to be on a planet they relish it as they have a great deal of appreciation for the beauty of these worlds#but one thing that has always been a thing for them is that they've never rly had like. friends amongst these colonies#partially because of them having to travel constantly but even when they get time to hang out more theyve sort of unconsciously trained#themself to be a bit emotionaly detached from those around them#it also doesnt help that theyre a digger and usually one of like 2 or 3 on any given planetoid#which earlier on meant thar they rarely encountered other dupes and late on left then with little to do as most of the ongoing work was#already being managed by others specifically trained for the role#so the isolation started to get to them and they started to get rly antsy and didn't know why or how to fix it#when the printing pod went offline they were one of the ones more calm abt the matter due to them being generally more used to the unknown#and this combined with their general good reputation lead to a lot of dupes looking to them for direction and answers alongside burt#this actually made quinn feel rly good for a while since it was their excuse to actually talk to ppl regularly and in more personal ways#theyd hear out ppls anxieties and ideas and newest passions and goals and theyd actually feel like theyre hearing the words said#they liked the feeling of everyone wanting to be around them and seeking them out even on other planetoids#they'd get phone calls and people taking breaks from their work to come say hi and it made them feel real#but as time went on and their fellow dupes became more and more self reliant they began to seek them out less and less#because why bother someone so important and busy when you dont need to right?#and this lead to quinn going wait no why did you all leave me again :(#it felt like before but worse because now they actually had started considering a lot of these guys friends#and they still had no idea how to reach out themself without a work reason and as such they sorta started dissolving again#and its during this time when they start missing the pod and start to get more upset that shes gone#they end up returning to the original partially to be closer to her and partially because it feels the most like home to them#there they start to slowly learn to reach out themself as they sort of sit in a corner watching burt work while shaking like a small dog#this at first is very unwanted by burt who is stressed as hell but they end up forcing him to stick to an actual shift instead of just#working until he passes out and this allows them to hang out while they force him to have downtime with them to keep him from exploding#it becomes a nice comfort time for them both as they rly havent hung out much since the first like 100 cycles or so
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zhowongli · 11 months ago
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hi i am alive
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dreamcast-official · 1 year ago
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hm.
#eli.txt#i think the reason i feel so shit over The Whole Deal is like. god. i just miss talking to them.#sometimes it felt like they were the only person who cared about what i had to say. they were the easiest person to talk to in my life.#and like. basically overnight. they were so distant for what i thought was no reason. and they did not care about me anymore.#i know they were justified in acting that way and its not like they suddenly hate me and dont care about me but god.#thats what it feels like. thats what it fucking feels like!!!!#i didnt just lose my boyfriend i lost one of my best friends and it fucking sucks. it feels like no one is going to put up with me anymore.#idk i dont feel nearly as comfortable talking to Anyone anymore. because when am i gonna know i made a mistake.#how am i gonna know i made a mistake and they suddenly think i hate them and it leads to something like this. how am i gonna know.#and like!! it looks To Me like their life got so much better without me being an active part of it. and i feel like i have just gotten worse#AND THEY WONT FUCKING TALK TO ME! I KEEP TRYING TO MAKE CONVERSATION AND THEY DONT TALK TO ME! AND LIKE.#I KNOW I FUCKED UP BUT IM FUCKING TRYING TO MAKE UP FOR IT CAN YOU PLEASE JUST LET ME TRY. TALK TO ME. I MISS YOU.#I LOVE YOU. NOT IN THAT SENSE ANYMORE BUT I STILL CARE FOR YOU. YOURE MY FRIEND. FUCKING TALK TO ME.#I KNOW NO AMOUNT OF SAYING IM SORRY CAN FIX IT BUT IM TRYING TO MAKE UP FOR IT. PLEASE JUST DONT IGNORE ME LIKE THAT.#god i just feel like maybe i meant nothing. maybe theyve just already moved on entirely and i was never anything.#maybe im the only one who still hurts. yknow. i dont think they care about me anymore.#which i could fucking deal with if they just said that instead of flat out ignoring me.#god i just feel like shit. what if i keep fucking up the same way what if i lose everyone the same way and in the end im alone.#i would probably deserve it. if i keep messing up this bad maybe i deserve to be alone.#i know thats not true. but i feel really bad right now. im not thinking.#no one is going to put up with me the way they did. they already dont.#god. im so tired. i wish they would fucking talk to me.
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mechieonu · 1 year ago
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i can't believe they made me care abt the fucking raccoon
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sahkuna · 6 months ago
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NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU
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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—
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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.
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vanweezer · 17 days ago
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i feel like something's sitting on my chest. who up panicking they attack
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